Chapter 86: Remembering an Experience of Fighting Succubi with Great Master Liu
Hereās a Scum Villain extra I originally translated for @daylight-star, featuring Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu. I adored the extra so much, I decided to clean up the translation and share it.
This extra takes place before the Jin Lan City arc. No spoilers if youāre caught up on the main translations, but it adds context to LQG and SQQās interactions, and all of LQGās actions later in the novel. Thereās a follow-up section in another extra that I may translate if people are interested. Edit: Follow-up translated here!
Important Title Note:
Original title is č®°äøę¬”åę³å·Øå·Øęé å¦ēē»å. SQQ often affectionately calls LQG ę³å·Øå·Ø in his mind, which is translated here to āGreat Master Liu.ā é å¦ (lit. seducing demons/monsters) became succubi, the closest Western concept.
Note that even though I use ādemonsā for å¦, the race the succubi belong to, they are not the same as the demons from the Demon Realm, which are é. Traditionally there are four āevilā races, å¦é鬼ęŖ. å¦ are usually evil-aligned animal spirits, in contrast with ē²¾, which are good-aligned animal spirits.
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Chapter 86: Remembering an Experience of Fighting Succubi with Great Master Liu
Hereās a Scum Villain extra I originally translated for @daylight-star, featuring Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu. I adored the extra so much, I decided to clean up the translation and share it.
This extra takes place before the Jin Lan City arc. No spoilers if youāre caught up on the main translations, but it adds context to LQG and SQQās interactions, and all of LQGās actions later in the novel. Thereās a follow-up section in another extra that I may translate if people are interested. Edit: Follow-up translated here!
Important Title Note:
Original title is č®°äøę¬”åę³å·Øå·Øęé å¦ēē»å. SQQ often affectionately calls LQG ę³å·Øå·Ø in his mind, which is translated here to āGreat Master Liu.ā é å¦ (lit. seducing demons/monsters) became succubi, the closest Western concept.
Note that even though I use ādemonsā for å¦, the race the succubi belong to, they are not the same as the demons from the Demon Realm, which are é. Traditionally there are four āevilā races, å¦é鬼ęŖ. å¦ are usually evil-aligned animal spirits, in contrast with ē²¾, which are good-aligned animal spirits.
If Bruce was De-aged and the only one who could make him stop screaming is Jason. (Part 4)
Bruce gets de-aged, but his memories arenāt as young (but not as old) as what theyāre supposed to be. And he desperately needs Jason.
What if the last thing de-aged Bruce remembers is Jasonās death?
I wanted to read de-aged Bruce with our man Jay but I literally canāt find any ;A;Ā
Thereās going to be good olā fluff and bonding between Jason and small Bruce, but thereās also going to be angst. And swearing (mostly from Jay)Ā
If this is your first time... >>Ā Part 1Ā <<
and >>Ā Part 2Ā <<
then the previous part >> Part 3 <<
Part 4
There was just silence. No screams, no whimpers, nothing. The dim light from the corridor filtered through the tiny crack.
He took in another breath and pushed every other thought out of his head. He opened the door fully in one smooth motion and stepped in. He kept his eyes trained forward, towards the room as he nudged the door closed behind him. There was a click, then a small clack and then, it was just dark. The curtains were pulled apart but it didnāt help to make the room any lighter since the moon was on the other side.
He automatically felt around for the light switch but decided against flicking it at the last moment. He didnāt need to startle the kid, nor did he want to see him either. Heās seen the large family portrait of Bruce and his parents enough times to know. It only took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dark room.
True to what Alfred said, any vases, racks or anything that can be thrown was removed from the room. The room looked oddly bare but it made a shadow that was huddled against the wall appear very distinct in the hazily lit room.
The figure had white bed sheets wrapped around him and parts of the sheet was still half on the bed. Jason stood at the door for a long time with his feet anchored to the spot.
Jason could deal with Bruceās stubborn and overbearingly protective attitude, the Bruce that wonāt even try and understand him and the Bruce that stalks his every move. He can yell at him, curse at him and growl at him and then maybe through it all reach some sort of a truce.
However, this shivering child thatās sitting with his knees drawn up and his head buried in his arms isnāt the man who gave and took everything from him at the same time. He couldnāt yell at this child nor scream frustrations at. Every mannerism he constructed in order to deal with Bruce collapsed and he was left with nothing to use.
There was a rustle as the sheets were pulled tighter around the child. āā¦Dick?ā The voice was small, gritty and nothing more than a whisper. Jasonās breath hitched. It was Bruceās voice but tuned higher, softer and unguarded. Jason didnāt know how to describe it. There was a child-like roughness to his voice that Damian never had. āā¦Isā¦that you?ā These words came out trembled and breathy, and Jason was really starting to wonder if this was Bruce at all.
Jason walked slowly towards the sound source with light footsteps. Well, at least the screams he heard over the phone wasnāt going on anymore and this Bruce already seems calm enough. The kid unfurled slightly as he feebly tried to make his voice louder.
Zatanna wants Jason to loosen child Bruceās grip on his memories. He has never been trained in this field but he considers himself a master of carrying impromptu missions.
He does his homework most of the time and formulates a concise and detailed plan followed by a dozen of back up plans. He familiarises himself with exits and gathers his weapons. For example, he smoothly manoeuvred himself out of an invitation from the lovely granny next door when she invited him over for apple pie last week. Donāt get him wrong though ā he caught wind of a human trafficking hand over of teens between the ages of 14 ā 18 from an external organisation to a syndicate within Gotham, and there was a meeting between the two parties at the docks.
But this, this is different.
As Jason neared, he could make out the childās raven-black hair that covered most of his face and the bandages that were coming loose from his hands. Dick mustāve tried to come in many times but to be forced out by disorientated screams since this kid automatically thought that it Dick was the one who came in.
āā¦ām sorry. I didn't recognise you and I mustāve hurt you.ā The words were muffled by the sheet that was wrapped tightly around him. There was a tiny hint of something else in that voice, something like regret and guilt.
Jason was completely unnerved by the fact that this kidās voice was so similar yet just so different. Zatanna didnāt even need to tell him to imagine that this wasnāt the Bruce for him to separate Bruce from the small figure. His brain was already doing it for him.
āā¦I didn't mean to hurt you.ā There was a small sniffle. āIā¦donāt want us to fight.ā
Jason came to a swift realisation that he was referring to the bad blood that ran between him and Dick when Jason donned Robinās costume. Now the kid just sounded melancholic ā something a kid shouldn't sound when theyāre only ten.
The child finally, finally raised his head to look at Jasonās feet, which stopped two meters away.
Jason watched as the childās eyes made its way upā¦all the way until the pair of big shimmery eyes locked with ones that were contaminated with Lazarus green. Wide eyes stared back at Jason and Jason stared back. The facial features softer, plumper and more youthful. Everything was soft, lacking the deep set of wrinkles that older Bruce had gained from consistent frowning.
The child, who Jason still refuses to believe is Bruce, sharply inhaled and unsteadily backed away in a mess of limbs, bloody bandages and tangled sheets. The sheets caught the base of a tall floor lamp and pulled it off balance which tugged the entire lamp sidewards as the small kid struggled even more.
Amongst it all, the kid haphazardly banged his elbow heavily on the bureau and let out a cry of pain. This effectively stopped Bruce from moving, which was not a good thing as the lamp swayed past the point of no return right beside him. It swayed with great momentum, then paused, then started falling.
Jason didnāt even stop to think about what he was going to do. āHey! Watch out!ā Jason yelped in surprise as he dove towards him.
The lamp crashed into Jason and the room was suddenly filled by a wild cacophony of metallic clangs and heavy, dull thuds.
āOw- Fuck-ā he curses and hisses. Jason tossed the rest of what the floor lamp was aside. That fucking lamps that fell on him hurt. āWhy the hell is the lamp so heavy?!ā Jason says through grit teeth.
He got his answer when he caught a glimpse of escrima sticks, dozens of batarangs, three knives and a couple other gadgets that had tumbled onto the, which apparently all fell from the floor lamp. Jason didnāt even know what he should question anymore. Why in a lamp, why in a room thatās barely used and just why?
Child Bruce let out a scared whimper and started writhing even more when he heard the loud clashes, not knowing that Jason just saved him from getting squashed. Hell, child Bruce doesnāt know who the person he just embarrassingly referred to as Dick is.
Child Bruce had realised that something was completely off the instant he saw that pair of deep-set, off-coloured eyes. Normally no-one would be able to distinguish eye colours in the dark but Bruce knew they were green because they glow. Thereās a subtle haze of colour that lingered in the manās eyes that made them stand out in the dark and then, he knew that this was not Dick or anyone else he knew for the matter of fact.
The loud crashes of metal fills his head with shrill echoes. They were like screams ā horrific and sharp and painful. It was dark and he couldnāt see anything, making everything he sees and hears go static like a dead TV station.
āWho are you?! G-go away!ā Child Bruce kicks and struggles but finds himself cornered. His breathing rises erratically and his heartbeat skyrockets. āN-no!ā
āFucking hell-ā Jason got a knee to his chest, which happened to have a fresh bruise. It didnāt hurt but this kid really is trying to give him new ones. āIām not going to hurt you, so please stop struggling!ā He growls.
Through the darkness, the low plea that came from Jason sounded intimidating to Bruce. Child Bruce was already scared and this made it even more so. He canāt feel his limbs, his head is on the verge of splitting apart and there was a stranger in the same room with him. All he could hear is his heart thumping and his rugged breathing. āGo away!ā he screams, on the verge of tears.
His ears were ringing and he wants all this to be just over, then just go home ā
(I have Mother and Father--)
No no no no they arenāt- theyāre not here anymore- theyāre gone. His memories tells him so. But he saw them! Mother had just read him stories and Father had tucked him into bed-
(Alfred is waiting for him at home with a warm cup of tea, and then heāll be able to give the new books to--)
A spike of pain twisted itself into the side of his head.
Jason.
He left him alone. He shouldnāt have left.
Jason, his boy, his son.
Child Bruce could feel heat radiating onto his face as he watched the world burn in front of him. Fire flickered far into the sky as burning rubble groaned and cried as they pushed against each other. It must be hell. Cradled in his arms was a figure that laid limp. He called his name but he remained still and silent. He called again, then again and again and again.
Jason.
The bruised and mangled body remained still in his arms.
No no no no no no NO!
Child Bruceās arms and legs gradually came to a stop, however, he started whimpering, ragged and raw. Jason felt as if someone grabbed his heart and twisted it. The kid sounds like an injured pup, and Jason feels that he was the one who caused it.
āShit, this isnāt supposed to go like this.ā Jason hopes that the floor lamp caused enough noise to attract attention because a person who knows what they are doing would be extremely helpful right now.
He could just wait it out or run out to grab someone who would be more capable to help the kid more than he would be, but leaving this child alone is a spell for disaster.
āHeyā¦Hey, kiddo. Itās alright. Itās ok.ā Jason says, moving himself away from the child. He shuffled back and remained crouched on one knee with a hand open and his palm facing upwards. Itās a gesture to show that he means no harm and that heās not holding onto anything that will either. āIt would be great if we could talk. Let you know who I am.ā
Jason had no idea what he was saying but if it was anything that will get child Bruce out of his whimpering ball and do some ācalming down,ā heāll be able to get well out of this place before the sun rises.
Guess Jason must have done something worse because child Bruceās whimpering only grew louder and more desperate.
The last thing Jason needs is Bruce to have a panic attack. He had always dealt with this kind of shit by himself, but when someone else comes into the equation, he doesnāt know how to do anything. Dick is the guy who deals with Bruceās meltdowns most of the time and surprise surprise, he isnāt Dick Grayson.
Amidst the ragged whimpers and breaths, a strangled gasp comes out Child Bruce, āJason!ā
Jason pulls back, shocked. āBruce?ā He whispers. He couldn't stop a bubble of hope to swell inside of him.
Child Bruce looks at him with wide eyes and Jason feels a painful squeeze in his chest when he sees that the kid hadnāt called his name because he recognised him. He could tell by the way how the kidās eyes didnāt linger on him.
āJason- n-no-ā Child Bruce cries. His whole body was shaking like leaves being thrashed around in a storm. āN-No!ā He grips at his hands and pushes himself against the wall, shoving the bureau back as well.
A sudden waft of rust and copper filled the air and Jason caught on to it immediately. Taking a dunk in the Lazarus pit sharpened his senses and he still hasnāt decided if it was a good thing or not.
Jason stood up, took three large strides to the light switch and flips it.
A huge mess of weapons lay scattered all over the floor and curled right against the wall with the mess scattered around him is a child. The boyās dark ebony hair was tousled in a mess and the cuffs of the white shirt heās wearing is tainted in a vibrant colour of red.
The bandages that had once wrapped neatly around the boyās hands, by Alfred, now came undone and hung loosely like red and white tapes. Except there was more red than white. Jason swore under his breath.
āDonāt tell me the weapons that tumbled out nicked the kid somewhere.ā
Child Bruce seemed to take no notice of the blood that was oozing out from his hand.
A scream tore from child Bruceās mouth. The screams Jason heard through the phone really cannot even begin to summarise the pure embodiment of pain, loss and desperation that came with it. Jasonās heart clenched and his voice dies in his throat.
Jason grabs the bed sheets that were tugged from the bed wraps child Bruce in them. He was hesitant at first, slowly approaching the child when his first burst of screaming ended in hurt sounds.
Child Bruce, however, is so out of it that heās unconsciously seeking for anyone that would keep him safe and pull him out of his sea of raging memories. Ā
Jason gathered child Bruce in his arms, fully prepared for flailing arms and legs. The kid struggled at first, gurgles of whimpers and tired screams rang out and Jason found himself bringing the kid to his chest with the kid tucked under his chin.
Jason doesnāt gently rock the kid, pat the kid or whisper sweet reassurances in the kidās ear. But he holds on to the trembling child with a fierce steadiness. He ignores the growing ache in his right arm and shoulder.
He goes over to some drawers and tugs on them. Five drawers open later, he comes face to face with a comprehensive tray of bandages, tweezers, rubbing alcohol, antiseptics and then an array of more things. He takes a tray out and setās it on the bed.
Now, the difficult part. He was going to plop the kid down on the bed beside the tray, but the kidās making the saddest sounds when Jason pried him away from his chest.
āKiddo, if you donāt mindā¦ā Jason says as he looks down and his words catches when he sees heavy tears rolling down the kidās unblemished cheeks. His eyes are pressed shut and his hands gripped tightly around the bed sheet. So tightly that blood from his hands was seeping into them. āā¦Alright. Fine.ā Jason sighs exasperatedly.
Child Bruce isnāt going to budge from his spot in Jasonās arms because Jason has an inkling, that if he does, heāll resort to screaming to express his anguish for āJason.ā Not him, but the one who already died long ago in Ethiopia. Currently, heās placated by Jasonās presence and Jason wants to keep it that way until someone who he can dump this kid on comes in.
But he canāt just go fixing child Bruceās hands standing up. He doesnāt have three hands, unlike Alfred, who can literally look after an entire family of injured birds and bats at the same time.
So instead, he plonks himself on the bed with child Bruce, wrapped in a slightly bloody cacoon of bed sheets, resting on his lap. In most cases, having anyone on his lap would make him feel something akin to disgust (but that disgust arose from fear and confusion). Holding this child, who also happened to be Bruce, made him beyond bewildered. He doesnāt like the feeling at all.
āHey kid, do me a favour by stop strangling your sheets with your grip.ā Jason makes sure to be softer this time. It sounded weird to his own ears. Jason eases child Bruceās hand with his free hand. The kid relaxes a little when Jasonās warm fingers brush his. āā¦There we go.ā
Jason nudges child Bruce into a better position so that he could use his other hand as well to untangle the soiled bandages. Muscle memory guides his movements as he wipes away blood and grabs for fresh dressings.
Jason tries not to linger long on the bloody red crescents that marred the kidās palm. The broken skin around them was starting to inflame. He powers on, applying antiseptic cream in a quick dabbing motion.
Child Bruce flinches the tiniest bit and Jason worked faster. He had to do this before the kid goes through another screaming fit. āYouāre doing really well,ā Jason says. There was no reply but at least the kid hadnāt started whining. Before he had set foot into this room, he had never heard Bruce make a sound akin to sad whines or noises.
But after all this, when he gets some sleep, those sounds will be plaguing his dreams.
Jason tucks the hand that he wrapped up back into the kidās bed sheet cacoon and fishes for the other one. Child Bruce had pressed his face up against Jasonās shoulder and seemed to have finally stopped whimpering. His breathing, however, is still uneven and shaky. Jason could feel each breath heās taking and each teardrop through his shirt.
This hand also had similar red crescent moon shaped cuts on his palm.
Soon enough, there was a tray of bloody bandages and a pair of freshly dressed hands. Jasonās arm that took the brunt of the falling floor lamp started aching a bit more. The shoulder that child Bruce had rested against was positively wet.
Jason heaves a sigh as he lets silence wash over. His shoulders slump downwards and he takes a moment to stare at the ceiling. Child Bruce was cradled in his arms, still swaddled in bloody bed sheets.
Child Bruce shuffled in his sheets.
āKid, you alright?ā Jason grunted to the small bundle encapsulated by his arms.
āY-yes,ā child Bruce answers. It sounded weak and breathy. Worn out.
āIf you say so.ā Jason thinks itās time to get the boy off his lap, and then maybe into the bed. He gets up with a groan and walks to the front of the bed and lowers the kid near his pillow. āAlfredās going to think I murdered you after seeing the bloody bed sheet.ā Jason remarks to himself.
This time, child Bruce takes a proper look at the personās face at the mention of the butler. The personās face had deep-set eyes that are adorned with thick lashes and contoured by sharp eyebrows. Lips that were slightly downturned when resting. A nose that appears to have been broken on multiple occasions, but still healed nicely. The manās wavy black hair brings out the lock of greyish-white that was above his eyes.
āDo Iā¦should I know you?ā Child Bruce asks tentatively. The man who pulled him out from the deep, dangerous sea of weird memories hesitates for a small moment.
Something at the bottom of his mind whispers at child Bruce soundlessly. A name. A hazy memory. The closer he wanted to reach out and grasp that name, the more it hurt. He knows he was just thinking about it, but his mind must have purposefully locked whatever it was back up.
The things that happened between him still being on the floor to him suddenly in this strangerās lap seemed to blur too. Child Bruce has a feeling he doesnāt want to know why.
āUh, no. Nope.ā Jason says in a sudden spurt of panic. Wow from screaming back to actually speaking already? āPass me that bloody bed sheet, will you? You wouldnāt want to sleep in that.ā
Child Bruce fumbled to unwrap himself all whilst keeping his eyes trained on Jasonās face, then at how he reaches to grab blankets from the cupboard.
Jason tosses the blankets onto the bed but ended up tucking child Bruce in when child Bruce had trouble tugging the blanket with his hands. Jason grabs the soiled bed sheets, tray of used bandages and heads towards the door.
āAre you leaving?ā Child Bruce whispers from under his blankets. He felt completely drained but fear buzzed viciously inside him. Dick must hate him and Alfred must be busy cleaning up the mess heās made. Theyāre probably all somewhere else, and he shouldnāt be complaining. But he is terrified of being left alone with his mind.
āYeah. You can sleep easy now.ā Jason says. This kid probably wanted him out and away as quickly as possible. Jason stands in front of the door when child Bruce quickly speaks again.
āCanā¦can you stay?ā
Jason turns around and unintentionally sends a confused glare. āYou told me to āgo away,ā kiddo, and Iām doing what you asked for.ā
Child Bruce sinks deeper into his bed. āI said that? I-I donāt remember.ā He furrowed his brows in frustration, trying to recall what had happened.
āNo itās fine, you donāt need to. Actually, itās better if you forget about the whole thing.ā Jason sighs and shakes his head. āArenāt you scared of me?ā Jason felt himself grinning bitterly.
āYouāre not scary. You fixed my hands and you hugged me nā that means youāre not a bad person.ā Child Bruce reasons and Jason is reminded that this is a ten-year-old that heās dealing with. āGood people arenāt scary.ā Child Bruce mumbles. āI guess.ā
Jason bites back on a laugh. Good fucking lord this kid was amusing. Who was the one who had a panic attack just a couple minutes ago? āWhat makes you think Iām a good person?ā
Child Bruce splutters something and tries gesturing with his arms weakly but gives up and colour dusts his pale cheeks.
Jason chucks the bloody stuff on the floor and walks back to the bed, sitting at the foot of it. Jason feels unnerved by how child Bruce is still staring at him. āWhat.ā Jason snaps. āClose your eyes. Sleep.ā
āYouāll leave once I close my eyes.ā Child Bruce answers. āAndā¦and I donāt want to be alone.ā
āWell, what do you want me to do. Tell you a bed-time story?ā Jason says sardonically, to which child Bruce gives a tiny, shy nod to. āSeriously?ā And child Bruce nods again, eyes still trained on Jason. Jason composes himself before he starts growling sharp remarks. āFine.ā
Jason ends up going with a grimmer version of Red Riding Hood, adding touches of his own imagination as he recites it from memory. Child Bruce didnāt dare complain about the differing story structure, not wanting him to leave.
Soon enough, child Bruce really does end up falling asleep, even though the lights were on. Jason pauses a while to see if child Bruce rouses from him stopping.
After no protests, he stands and silently turns off the lights. Taking one last glance at the kid that is now resting silently on the bed, he picks up the bed sheet, all the bandages and leaves.
--
Notes:Ā
The reason I referred to small Bruce as justĀ ākidā orĀ āchildā when Jason just met him was to show how Jason didnāt really see him asĀ āBruce,ā but as just any other I kid. This is also sorta why Jason would step out of his comfort zone to do some stuff for him he wouldnāt usually do (like willing to put Bruce on his lap, tell a story etc).
I continuously referred to Bruce asĀ āchild Bruceā for the same reason. Jason just doesnāt see this kid as the Bruce he knows.
Jason only slipped out Bruceās name when child Bruce said his name because that was when his mind linked āchild Bruceā withĀ āBruceā more clearly than any other time.
Iāll post the next part sometime, when my tests are over Dā:
Tada~ I can imagine Jason being hit by a weird beam and then as a side effect his hair grows outā¦and he canāt cut his hair either because the beam somehow made his hair stronger.Ā
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If Bruce was De-aged and the only one who could make him stop screaming is Jason. (Part 3)
Bruce gets de-aged, but his memories arenāt as young (but not as old) as what theyāre supposed to be. And he desperately needs Jason.
I wanted to read de-aged Bruce with our man Jay but I literally canāt find any ;A; So I sacrificed sleep and wrote this.Ā
Thereās going to be good olā fluff and bonding between Jason and small Bruce, but thereās also going to be angst, suffering and then a little more angst. And swearing (mostly from Jay)
Hereās the previous chap >> Part 2 <<
And if this is your first time... >> Part 1 <<
Jason ended up being led by an entourage of people ā namely Alfred, Dick and Zatanna towards the place where de-aged-potentially-alternate-universe Bruce was kept. With each heavy step he took towards wherever they were going, the more and more he grew unsettled.
Alfred came to a graceful halt as they somewhat neared their destination, which soon turned out to be only Jasonās destination since no one else was going to go with him beyond where Alfred stopped.
āThe temporary room where Master Bruce is staying is just the third door down on the right.ā Alfred seemed to be directing the words mostly towards Jason. In a more hushed tone, Alfred continued. āMaster Jason, it would be a good idea if you go without an entire horde following you.ā
Alfred knew Jason was already uncomfortable setting foot here, much less be so close Bruce. Having more people to deal with other than trying to handle Jason himself whilst being in the presence of the bat was a horrifying thought by itself. This was also for the betterment of Bruce, despite Alfred knowing that Jason didnāt want to find himself starting to have to actually care about him.
Hearts and bonds shattered at such a young age would leave such a nasty scar that, perhaps, may never heal even with time.
āYeah Ok.ā Jason fixed his eyes on the door that was three doors to the right through the dimmed hallway. āAlright.ā Jason was only just starting to freak out because this is Bruce heās going to be meeting. Hell, it might not even be the Bruce he knows. What should he say? Would he even need to say anything at all? Wait, so why was he going to see Bruce?
Right, he was going to calm Bruce down. If this was another situation, for example, if Jason was interfering with some weapons trade and started shooting everyone, heāll be able to calm and angry Bruce down by saying, āNo, I didn't fucking kill anyone and yes, theyāre alive,ā though whoever was left was usually on the verge of dying and sometimes in need of amputations. He would laugh at the idea of trying to calm the cold, stoic bat. It would all be some sick joke since practically everyone else out there that Bruce knew would be more eligible for the job than he would be.
But this, this was apparently different so whatever eligibility hierarchy there was before is now completely overthrown and Jasonās brain hasnāt caught up yet.
Alfred turned to look at Dick with a similar weariness behind his movements. āI think it is time that Master Tim takes his break. He has barricaded himself inside the cave and has taken nothing but coffee. It will do him good if you accompany him for a while.ā
The butler quickly heads off to make something for Tim. Jason wonders how Alfred is able to feed so many people who are unable to cook without so much as making a mess of something. Jason had also assumed that Alfred would keep an eye on the situation but realised that Alfred must trust him, enough so that he was allowed to use his fine china and enter a room with a fragile ten-year-old Bruce inside. And the amount of trust that Alfred has given to him made his heart unexpectedly ache.
Then, there was Dick. They never got the chance or time to become better brothers. So the use of an old pet name Dick had for him caught him off guard.
āJaybird?ā Dick held Jasonās gaze for a moment as he thought of what to say. Jason found it both amusing and odd that the most sociably-sound, able-to-strike-up-conversations person out of all the batkids is holding back on his words.
āWhat?ā Jason grunted.
āThanksā¦Thanks for doing this.ā Dick said.
Jason snorted and rolled his eyes. It really was out of character for Dick to thank him like this. āDonāt thank me yet. I might just make things worse than they already are.ā
āNo, you wonāt.ā Dick flashed Jason a smile. āItāll be fine.ā
āMy ears sure wonāt if he screams like that,ā Jason utters, feeling coolly detached from the situation at hand.
āWe can always get you fitted with hearing aids if it gets to that point.ā Dick reaches out and tenderly brushes a few loose strands of white from Jasonās eyes and Jason tries his best to suppress himself from moving away from the sudden contact. Maybe it was a force of habit with the other two.
āAlright, Iāll ring you up if I ever need one of those.ā Like hell he would. Thereās still traces of the Lazarus within him and his ears can handle more than just a little screaming.
Dick leaves, his strides long and graceful as he heads towards the Cave. That just leaves him and Zatanna. Jason takes in a deep breath, hoping that it will steal him for what he has to face. He exhales and continues walking-
āBefore you go, I think I should tell you something.ā Zatanna pulls Jason aside by the wrist into a corridor by the side that leads to a bathroom. āI havenāt been completely open with the real reason we need you to meet with Bruce. Yes, heās calling for you, but the reason behind itā¦it wouldāve distressed Dick a little if I told you about it in front of him.ā
āI thought you two talked it through already.ā Jason furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and searched Zatannaās eyes. āYou said that youāll be able to do your magic if I calm him down. I donāt see anything else to it.ā
āYeah, but do you know why Iāll be able to do that once heās calm?ā Zatannaās gaze was piercing, daring him to interrupt her. āHeās hanging onto those memories of you. Voluntarily, if you will. Heās even managed to keep a firm hold on them when I tried to lock them up. From the looks of it, they are his freshest memories. Theyāre the most recent memories younger Bruce has from our Bruce, and theyāre also the ones that are affecting younger Bruce the most.ā
āBoth you and Dick have said that he remembers me dead. Is it serious that itās just one memory of me thatās stopping you.ā Jason says. Zatanna still hasnāt let go of Jasonās wrist and he was starting to feel a little overwhelmed.
āWell, Mr Todd, you do leave quite the impression on people.ā
āYeah, but apparently I donāt leave the nicest ones.ā Jason quickly murmured back.
āUh huh but he ended up taking you in after all,ā Zatanna replied. āYouāre not as bad as you think you are.ā
āI am, Zatanna, I never became the person he thought that I would be.ā Jason bit back a laugh. āHe should have just left me in that alleyway. Now all he does is gripe at all the things I do for Gotham whilst he sits back and deals with the things Gotham doesnāt need. He tails me wherever I go like heās trying to chase down the āmeā he thought he knew. And now, what, this kid Bruce is hung up about it all over again because he just wonāt fucking let go of it!ā
Zatanna didnāt flinch nor move from her spot. She knows that Jason is just as hurt about as everyone else in the family is but his perception of those feelings he has are clouded by suffocating plumes of twisted resentment that is associated with Bruce.
āEven if those memories are painful to him, even if they are making him suffer, heās not letting go of them because theyāre important to him. Youāre important to him, Jason.ā She could practically feel the cold disbelief that radiated off from Jason. āI was surprised that I could lock away memories regarding this worldās Bruceās parentsā¦because heās moved on. He has his own family and city to protect now, something that he didnāt have before.Ā Youāre part of the family he wants to protect to desperately.ā
Jason doesnāt need to know all this. He didnāt need to know that all this wasnāt just Bruce being a stubborn brat and refusing to calm down ā but were essentially specific memories, the memories of Jasonās death that was stopping Zatanna reciting her spell and him getting more sleep.
āI stopped being his āfamilyā ages ago! He made the very clear when he gave me this.ā He spits out, downright feeling bitter all over again as he used his free hand to pull down his collar, revealing a thin white line that ran horizontally along the side of his neck. The slice of a Batarang. āHeās chosen that fucker over me more than just a few times.ā
āJason, those memories were the only things he had of you before everything went spiralling down. And theyāre the only thing he has of you now as well.ā Zatannaās squeezed the grip he had on Jasonās wrist, āBut, what Joker did to youā¦Bruceā¦he, he was distraught, broken and different afterwards. He couldnāt let it go. He couldnāt let himself because you mattered to him.ā
He stops and stares at her, trying to decipher the meaning behind what sheās said about Bruce. Sure yeah, Bruce has changed, but it doesnāt change that fact that he looks perpetually brooding even without the cowl on. To Jason, it seemed like the change in Bruce was trifling. Same old stoic Bruce with his same old moral code.
Zatanna gave an exasperated sigh. āIf you open yourself to your family a bit more you would be able to realise things you donāt now. You have to realise that they are your family and have never stopped being your family.ā
Jason tries to fight the urge to stare at her red lips as they spoke passionately, or at her dark hair that flows as she shook her head. The teenage Jason within struggles a losing fight as he easily tosses away the urges. Heās over all the silly ways how he would blush a little, or linger a little longer when she comes and visits the manor sometimes. Flowers bloom and wither, and now he feels nothing more than acquaintanceship for the magician. It was oddly a calm feeling. Jasonās steady gaze doesnāt leave Zatannaās sparkling light blue eyes for even a moment.
āIām not in the position to ask but, please, pretend that the kid youāll be seeing is not the Bruce you know, but someone who desperately needs you and your help,ā Zatanna said, knowing that Jason does understand but simply hates showing that he cares. This aspect of his proves that he was raised by Bruce more so than not.
The desperate desire to protect those who canāt, especially children, is a shared trait between the two.
Zatannaās hand slid away from her grip on Jasonās wrist and turned back towards the main hallway. Jason didn't give a definite yes or no, but Zatanna didnāt need to know it since she knew Jasonās answer from the beginning. In fact, when a head-strong person like Jason chooses voluntarily stay when he had a choice to back out, they will see it out until the end.
The two came to a stop at where they were supposed to arrive minutes ago but had a slight detour. Jason faced the closed wooden door. Undefined shadows caused by the dim lighting etched across the door, giving it texture and form, further reconsolidating the fact in Jasonās head that this is real. Not a dream, not a nightmare, not a hallucination.
Zatanna hovered a couple metres behind, understanding that this was something that Jason needed to do by himself.
āWith deduction skills like yours,ā Jason slightly turned his head, but he wasnāt fully facing Zatanna either, āwhy donāt you step up and take his mantle as Batman for a while?ā
An amused chuckle rolled out from Zatannaās lips. āWe established ages ago that his life as Batman wouldnāt be able to match up with mineā¦and we left it at that.ā If Jason could see Zatannaās face right now, he would see an amount of sentimentality he wouldnāt usually associate with the lively and energetic magician.
Jason realised that āweā was Bruce and her, and suddenly realised that maybe that they had something more between them, once upon a time.
āYeah, it wouldnāt suit you.ā The smile that graced Jason didnāt last long. He placed his hand on the metal handle, hesitated, took a breath in, then out, then pushed.
--
This chapter, was hard to write. I was writing it in disjointed sections and Iām not confident with my ability to write conversations between two people so I kept on editing it. This chapter is to shed more light on whatās going on (because I tend to just write without realising that other people donāt know what the heck is going on) and to further develop the plot.
Iāve sort of like the idea of Jason having had a thing for Zatanna, but moves on. I wanted it to symbolise that Jason has changed, that he wasnāt the person he was before, but not someone entirely different either, like a bildungsroman in a way.
Thought Iād show some art Iāve been working on for an original zine Iām aiming to release in August. Title is The Mercenaryās Guide to Post-Apocalyptic Demon Slaying and itās loosely based on classical myths, as well as being an homage to all the dystopian and dark fantasy stories Iāve loved (American Horror Story, Hellsing, Devil May Cry, Akira, lots more). Itās also a little bit of a spoof on those genres at the same time heh.
Basic premise: Aurelian and friends scrape out a living in a destroyed landscape by hunting monsters unleashed by entities that call themselves the Gods Below. Stuff happens. Dark pasts catch up to them. Cities get mad at them. Many pairs of leather pants are worn. And all while trying to avoid a particularly nasty and vengeful God with great hair. Itās loud and experimental and Iāve been having a really great time putting the pages together!Ā Ā
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If Bruce was De-aged and the only one who could make him stop screaming is Jason. (Part 2)
Bruce gets de-aged, but his memories arenāt as young (but not as old) as what theyāre supposed to be. And he desperately needs Jason.
I wanted to read de-aged Bruce with our man Jay but I literally canāt find any ;A; So I sacrificed sleep and wrote this.Ā
Thereās going to be good olā fluff and bonding between Jason and small Bruce, but thereās also going to be angst and suffering, and more angst. And swearing (mostly from Jay)Ā
Hereās >> Part 1Ā << (Visit me before u keep on going cos I was born first! D:<)
~~~
Jason rolled up at the looming front gates of the manor, feeling somewhat chilled after taking blasts of high winds as he sped through Gothamās bare streets. Even with his thick gloves and high-grade clothes that are designed to keep the wind out, mother nature always has ways to intervene. The gates opened, opening their long metal arms to welcome him in.
He rode his bike up to the front door, where he hopped off and had a moment to think about what he was getting himself into. Do I really need to do this? He considers the events that could happen after Bruce returns to normal. Heāll probably banish Jason from ever setting foot in Gotham ever again, probably for seeing him in such a vulnerable state. He'll probably still hate him, even more so since Jason would be the reminder of both his failure and his recent embarrassment.
Ha. Why was he even here when everyone couldāve waited for Zatanna to do her magic and everything would be back to normal again. Zatanna could probably solve everything with her backward spells and her sheer black pantyhose and the black top hat.
So when the large, heavy grand doors opened to reveal Zatanna and Dick on the other side, he did a double take, which gave Dick the chance to speak first.
āIāve heard that Prince Charmings always arrive fashionably late to parties⦠and well, Iām glad youāre here.ā Dick flashes a small, tired smile that didnāt really stretch as far as his usual signature smiles.
āIf this is a party, then this is the lamest one Iāve been at through my entire lives.ā Jason fires back mirthlessly. He watches with spiteful satisfaction as Dickās eyes widened the slightest bit as he processed what Jason said.
Jasonās eyes slid from Dickās blue eyes to the ugly scab that was forming on his chin. Maybe it hurts for him to smile with the cut. Heās trying really hard to believe that itās the cut rather than anything else.
Dick noticed the subtle change in eye contact but doesnāt choose to say anything more. He doesnāt want to scare Jason off before Bruce has a chance of letting Zatanna work her magic.
Jason lifts an eyebrow at Dick, clearly wanting answers. The quick glance Jason shot at Zatanna behind him proved to him that Jason was hoping for the same thing he was when he called her in.
āZatannaās magic isnāt working.ā Dick supplies.
Jasonās entire frame heaved heavily for a moment as he took in a slow breath and exhaled deeply.
āWellā¦shit.ā Jason murmurs. He was hoping that all this was fixed and he that wouldnāt need to hear such agonising screams ever again. He was hoping for a lot of things but none of them was coming true. I should better start hoping that this is dragged out for the longest time possible so that doesnāt come true either.
āIāll explain the rest inside.ā Dick steps to the side, allowing Jason a clear passageway into the house, but he doesnāt miss the reluctance in Jasonās stride as they made their way to the kitchen.
So far so good. Even better than what Dick thought it would turn out. He had imagined that he would have to go knocking on every one of Jasonās safehouses in Gotham, then try and drag him to the mansion.
Jason noticed something was odd the instant he stepped in, though soon realised that it was because Alfred wasnāt the one who opened the door to let him in. Even now, Alfred who was most definitely most attentive to offering āguestsā tea was not here to do so either. (Jason knows heās not a regular, not anymore.)
Dick, now somewhat upholding Alfredās spot as the butler, asked, āDo you want tea?ā
āI want tea, but not yours. Alfās going to murder you in your sleep if you touch his fine chinas.ā Jason stepped between Dick and the glass display case, retrieving three cups with foreign gentleness.
āDamn, you just got rejected.ā Zatanna mused as she moved to watch Jason handle tea leaves with care. But Dick seemed almost happy that Jason started brewing tea. Alfred seemed to have taught Jason a whole lot more things than either Dick or Bruce knew about because his muffins were second to the ones Alfred made. But that was all back then.
Soon enough, they were all gathered around the counter each with a cup of tea in hand. Silence enveloped as Jason took a sip, his gaze somewhat distant as he did. Dick took advantage of this moment to gather his thoughts, and how he was going to present everything to Jason.
He knows he has to ease the facts in as gently as possible. A shocked Jason can soon become a frustrated Jason, who will soon turn into an angry Jason. But Jason beat him to it.
āSo, tell me that Bruce isnāt de-aged into some fucking ten year old and that phone call I got wasnāt real.ā Jason eyed Dick, daring him to say āyes all this was just to prank your gullible ass.ā
Dick sighed, blowing steam away from his tea. āBruce is ten. He still is, and still will be unless we figure something out.ā
āAnd, Jason, if what I think about this little situation with Bruce is correct, then you will play a huge role. Just to let you know, itās not my magic that isnāt working,ā at this, she sends Dick a look. āBruce himself is the one whoās unconsciously refusing to let me to temporarily lock away his memories. Most of the memories anyway. Iāve sealed away what I can.ā
āWait, so you havenāt tried changing him back yet?ā Jason growled, somewhat annoyed.
āI was getting to that. You see, space-time continuum must have been broken for Bruce to be ten years younger. In fact, I donāt think this is as simple as āde-aging.ā Iāve tapped into his energy signature and itās slightly different from Bruceās usual one.ā Zatanna says, now clearly shedding new light onto the case since Dickās face became even more contorted into confusion.
Jason gathered that this was the first time Dick was hearing this too. āYouāre saying that time travel is involved in this shit and this Bruce is really him from long ago.ā
āYes, but the thing is, energy signatures remain the same no matter what age,ā Zatanna adds as she tucks a dark lock of hair behind her ear. Dickās face went a little paler and his dark eye bags seemed to have become even bigger. āSome exchange mustāve happened between this universe and another universe. Messing around the space-time continuum is a messy thing, and Iām guessing the memory mix-up is a result of it being ripped.ā
Jason concentrated on the aroma of freshly brewed tea rather than on the shock that was about to be hitting him right aboutā¦now.
āThat sounds like aā¦rather complicated deduction.ā Was what managed to come out of Dick before he laced his fingers and pressed them to his lips.
āAnd thatās why I havenāt tried re-aging Bruce. The only thing I can do for him at the moment would be to lock away some of his memories, otherwise, he would practically break,ā Zatanna concluded. āWhenever I tried to speak with him, he began screaming. He was screaming your name, Jason.ā
Jason looked back at the reflection of him that rippled in the tea. āStill doesnāt explain why Iām here.ā He murmured.
This time, Dick was the one who answered. āYouāre the one whoāll be able to calm him down. Iāve tried, Zatannaās tried, even Alfredās tried.ā He eyed Jason with his fervent blue eyes hooded behind his long, dark eyelashes. Jasonās eyes never left his tea. āBut he keeps calling for you.ā
A loud, pensive silence overtook them. The magician added something more in a smaller voice. āā¦I believe that there is a high possibility that this little Bruce, still has his parents back in his world.ā That would be like rubbing salt into a bleeding wound, no doubt making all the memories that flooded into Bruce mind that much harsher and crueller.
That was another shock to Jason because if Bruce never lost his parents, Batman would never have come to beā¦and Jason would never have to be who he is. He mightāve been able to go to Uni, get a degree and not needing to cringe every time he sees a crowbar or bury bullets into heads.
He imagines standing in front of a mirror, seeing himself but standing straight, his shoulders light without burden. He imagines staring into calm blue eyes, like the ones he once had, and black hair brushing at just the tips of his lashes. No white. However, the image was nothing more than a mirage; a soft haze that would linger at the very back of his mind but never leave or step into the light.
If there was ever an even bigger shock, Jason felt betrayed by his own emotions. He fucking feel peeved about how he wasnāt angry about the fact that he was called here for reasons that are only based on theories or for Bruce.
Alfredās paced footsteps arrived at the boundary between the kitchen and the hallway. āMaster Jason, it is wonderful to see you here. I am glad to see that the chinaware has remained, for the moment, intact.ā
Maybe the one thing he would miss if Bruce never became Batman would be Alfred. So something in his heart twinged when Jason saw Alfred standing by the doorway with the most forlornly expressed face Jason has ever seen him show. Jason feels the ache in his chest worsen as Alfred walks closer, allowing Jason to really pick up the subtle changes in the way his body glided across the open space. Alfredās frame was slightly bent over, his back not as straight and his nose held just a little bit lower. As long as āBatmanā exists, Alfredās ongoing exposure to all the suffering and the shit that goes on will never cease. Jason feels the anger inside of him being boiling once more ā but he felt immediately because Jason was one extra thing Alfred had to deal with.
Jason loves the guy and he hates the things heās done to the butler, taking years off his life for worrying over him when he didnāt need to. Heās done nothing to deserve his care.
āHowās Bruce?ā Dick lifts his head and asks. The weariness they both shared seemed to have established a mutual sense of understanding. Dick knows that Alfred has personally stepped up to take the responsibility of taking care of Bruce ā like he always has. Alfred understands that Dick feels useless about not being able to do anything, but he also understands that Dick understands that heās doing what he can as best as he can.
āHe has worn himself out to the point of exhaustion. I must say that it is for the best right now. Iāve removed all things that a young boy like him can break and throw. It was quite the feat to stop him from breaking multiple bones in his body.ā Alfredās expression melted into collected despondence. No one knows how he can pull off such conflicting emotions with calm professionalism. But then, people learn from experiences and this wasnāt the first time Alfred has seen something like this.
Dick could only imagine what Alfred had to struggle with when Dick rushed into the bat cave carrying a glassy-eyed Bruce who was swimming in the swaddles of his Batman costume. Dick thought that it was just shock and a terrible concussion.
He first called Damian down to the cave. Damian had a grey hoodie on with tight black jeans, with his growing fringe bobby-pinned back. That kid has been too busy acing school to get a haircut, much to Alfredās constant reminders. Damian sarcastically commented on how delinquent-like DIck looked with the newly healing cut to the chin.
Dick briefed him over what had happened (though, leaving out how everything about how reckless he got). A villain wannabe, real name Jeremy Fritzleburg, or less commonly known as āthe InventorDoc,ā (Damian snorted at the name), de-aged Bruce (to which Damian snorted at again before an ear-shattering scream rang from somewhere within the cave ā that was when they both knew something was wrong).
Dick told Damian to go check on Bruce whilst he called Tim and told him to come in as soon as he can. He wanted to get the broken pieces of whatever the InventorDoc invented to be analysed and hopefully understood so that theyāll be able to do something.
After more than ten minutes of pacing around, biting his thumb, he thought that calling in Zatanna would be a good option. His thoughts were confirmed when Damian came running back to him, eyes wide and undoubtedly shaken, but refused to admit what had shaken him so bad. He immediately dialled the famed magician, telling her the important point to convey the severity of the situation.
On the way to Bruce, Damian lagged slightly behind Dick.
āWhatās wrong Dami?ā Dick had asked but didnāt get a reply. It was only until Dick was nearing the place that Damian grabbed Dickās arm.
āHe doesnāt remember me.ā Damian had whispered.
Dick paused abruptly, heart suddenly shuddering in his chest. āGo back up and wait for Timmy and Zatanna, yeah? Iāllā¦Iāll talk to him.ā
Damian held on for a bit longer before letting go. He glanced up at Dick, āFather is barely able to talk in his state,ā and then swiftly left.
Dick continued walking and swallowed thickly as he drew ever nearer. Soon, he was face to face with a small, fragile-looking Bruce writhing on the ground with blood trailing from his bloody hand and smearing onto the floor for he had dug his nails into his palms. Bruceās skin was sheen with cold sweat. His small body trembled as he took in shallow, rattling breaths, but found that he lacked the ability to stand back up.
Dick rushed to help as Alfred must have disappeared to brew hot chocolate. Alfred would never leave Bruce alone like this, nor would Damian. Memories mustāve had rushed in sometime between Damian leaving and Dick arriving. Except Dick didnāt know that memories were what was putting Bruce through such an ordeal.
When Dickās hand touched Bruceās small shoulder blades, the child flinched and fell sidewards. Dick saw a face that resembled Brucesās, but rounder, softer, younger but contorted by distress and fear. Bruceās blue eyes were wide, his pupils dilated. Dick thought that it may actually be a new kind of toxin that could take the form of a ray. He doesn't know what heās thinking anymore! Bruce was in a bad shape, and Damian was right. There was no way Dick could get through to the Bruce that was shaking in front of him. There was absolutely no flicker of recognition in Bruceās eyes. To him, Dick was a stranger.
Dick had drawn his hand back, feeling unexpectedly hurt by Bruceās reaction. He couldnāt really help that, despite telling him that it was unjustified to feel hurt when he shouldnāt be.
āMaster Dick?ā Alfred had called as he appeared with bandages.
At that, Bruceās eyes intently bore into Dickās face, cataloguing every detail, every bump and wrinkle. His wide eyes paused at the cut on his chin before shakily meeting Dickās gaze.
āDick?ā The voice was small, shaken and weak, like a candle flame diminishing by the second. But a small flame of recognition was there.
āY-Yeah thatās me, B.ā Dick reached out to touch Bruce, but he still recoiled from his hand. Recognising Dick mustāve triggered something else in Bruce, because he clutched tightly at his own head and curled in on himself, letting out a pained groan.
Dick was torn between putting his hands on Bruceās small back and not touching him at all, but chose to close it into a fist instead. āTim will be here soon, ok? Hang in there.ā
After several strenuous breaths of air, Bruce replied with something that froze Dick to the spot.
āWā¦whoās Tim? W-whereāsā¦ā Bruceās eyebrows furrowed, creating crinkles in his youthful skin as he began recalling the one name that he wanted to say. āā¦Whereās Jason?ā
āHeās not here.ā Dick rushed back with a reply. Maybe Bruce just didnāt see Damianās face properly. Dick thought that Bruce must have temporary amnesia due to the sudden changes done to his body. āBut Tim, heās your son. Lives on coffee, and Damian, heās your current robin-ā
Bruce seemed especially insistent about Jason, rather than about Tim or about Damian. āā¦not here?ā This time his voice was slightly clearer but still as disjointed.
Cogs were turning in 10-year-old Bruceās head as the memories started gushing in, turning so fast that they were burning. Pieces upon pieces of his memory rained down and he was drowning.
āWhereās Jason?!ā Bruce was pleading now, eyes blown wide once again. He tried pushing himself up to search the cave with his sporadic gaze that was glowing with a feverish need to know where Jason was. Bruceās breathing became hard and fast, which was quickly going to spiral into hyperventilation.
āMaster Dick, it is not an apt time for you to be here.ā Alfred shooed Dick gently out of the way so that he could as quickly and softly unfurl Bruceās hand to bandage. āMaster Bruce, you must control your breathing.ā
Dick stumbled to stand up and back away. Thisā¦This wasnāt right. Somethingās off. At that moment, the fear of not knowing what was affecting Bruce overtook him. He had to fix this. Otherwise, Bruce would never be the same and he wasnāt prepared for that.
Dick squeezed the mug of warm tea in his hands. Right now isnāt the time to think back. They need to think forward; think of ways to fix all this and make sure Bruce is going to be ok.
Jason placed down his empty cup of tea. It was still warm to the touch.
āWhere is he right now?ā Jason murmured dourly. Dick looked at Jason with a newfound sense of hope, despite how little it was.
--
I was going to end this a bit earlier, but I had to get Dickās flashback in before I ended it.Ā
I have a headcanon (something where one as an individual, you think/want to be canon) that Jasonās eyes used to be blue, but turned aquary-green after he got tossed into the pit (despite the fact that heās shown to have aquary eyes before he died - I sorta like theĀ āchangeā he undergoes pre to post-resurrection).
Maybe Iāll post the next part sometime :) been hella stressed cos of tests and due dates for my major work ,><,
If Bruce was De-aged and the only one who could make him stop screaming is Jason.
Bruce gets de-aged, but his memories arenāt as young (but not as old) as what theyāre supposed to be. And he desperately needs Jason.
I wanted to read de-aged Bruce with our man Jay but I literally canāt find any ;A; So I sacrificed sleep and wrote this.Ā
Thereās going to be good olā fluff and bonding between Jason and small Bruce, but thereās also going to be angst. And swearing (mostly from Jay)
Read me already? Hereās >> Part 2 <<
~~~
Jason tossed and turned in his bed, unable to find a position comfortable enough to drag him off to sleep. After three more minutes of practically doing aerobics in bed, he decides that this was not going to get him anywhere and that he shouldnāt be wasting time trying to get some shut-eye but more rather do something more productive.
Like what? Go fucking apologise to Bruce to make Boy Wonder happy? Fat chance. Itās three am in the morning and even though Bruce will probably still be awake, he wasnāt going to just voluntarily visit the manor.
Jason pressed a palm to his forehead and groaned in annoyance. Everything was going so well. He hadnāt killed in a month (and he actually tried, really hard), he hadnāt thrown something across the room the instant Bruce entered, and he even managed to stay for a family dinner.
Heās even admitted to himself, secretly, whilst he was beat ass drunk, that maybe, deep down, he wanted to go back to the family. And he hated the thought and the emotional baggage that came with it.
Heās trying to āforgive and forgetā but it's not easy when the Replacement is there, when heās the exact reminder of what he had been through and all the shit that had gone down between him and Bruce. Dickās told him that it isnāt āfairā that he blames Drake, for practically everything. Oh if only Dick knew that all this wasnāt āfairā from the beginning. If only he knew the bitterness that stabbed him when he saw Bruce smiling with the Replacement, putting all the hopes and expectations that was once put onto him being placed on someone else.
Now that Bruce has robins to keep him sane, what had Jason become to him? Right, Jason was a walking talking nightmare that reminds Bruce of his failure, his mistakes.
And then just the night before, Batman and Red Hood had gone on a patrol, together along with Nightwing. They busted a drug and arms trade between two gangs. It was all going smoothly until Jason discovers five children shackled to a steel bar behind the main room in which the dealing took place.
They were quivering in fear and delirious from hunger and thirst, but what really made Jason snap was the fact that gang members that managed to dodge Batman and Nightwing barged into the room to kill them off since the deal was off and keeping them alive would be a fucking waste of effort.
Five bullets instantly buried themselves into the first man that came in, one in each kneecap as well as shoulder, with the final one burying itself in the manās stomach. One for each of the kids that they left to die without them even needing to kill them. The second man that rushed in got a fist to the cheek and a knee to the nose, then a series of punches to his face. All Jason remembers was one huge blur with a cacophony of screams in the background, but he doesnāt know if itās the gang memberās, the childrenās, his, Dickās or Bruceās. Maybe it was all of them.
The next thing he does remember is Batman dragging him forcefully away from an unresponsive body. Oh, but Jason did not go quietly. He struggled against the arms that restrained him. He wanted to get his fists back into the manās mangled face, to get his fists into all the gang membersā faces.
There was shouting, alright. Nasty comments were hit from Jason to Bruce like a match of tennis, and Dick ended up with a deep cut to his jaw whilst trying to get the two apart.
Jason doubts that heāll be able to set foot back in the manor soon after what transpired that night. Jason doesn't even know why Dick still insists that he and Bruce make up, even when itās clear that Jason had crossed a line when he gave Dick the deep gash to the jaw. So when Bruce had growled at Jason to leave, he did. Something dark and bitter overcame him as he walked out of the room, and the bubbling wreckage of hatred within him grew.
Taking a dunk in the pit had done its numbers on Jason, and anger was the emotion he chose to use to deal with the bitterness within him.
Jason pulled the blanket off of him and sat up on his bed. The sliver of moonlight cut through the darkness and landed on his small fringe of white hair. It glowed softly in the dark as the light bounced off. The white hair is a scar left on him after healing from death. A souvenir from his trip from beyond and back.
So when his phone started ringing at three am in the morning, he and his heart literally jumped.
āFucking hell!ā Jason grabbed his phone with haste as his loud ass ringtone was not helping his heart slow down from the initial shock. His first thought was to press the big, enticing red button, but the fact that it was Dick who was calling made him hesitate. āThere better be a good reason for this,ā Jason grumbled as he pressed the green instead.
āWhat do want-ā
āJason? That you?ā Yep, it was definitely Dick. āYou actually picked up, oh my god I was hoping you that you were and you really did.ā His voice sounded far from sleepy, rather he sounded like he has been awake for two days straight. It was a little rough and a little slurred together but it was also probably due to how fast he was speaking.
āIf you were seeing if I would pick up then Iām hanging the hell up.ā Jason expected something of a smart remark from Dick, like āarenāt you going to ask how my cut is because Iām looking pretty sharp right now,ā or some weird shit like that if Dickās sleep deprived because he says some weird things when heās loopy from not sleeping.
āNo! Jay! Please just, just hear me out before you leave. Itāsā¦Itās urgent.ā The last words came across the phone as being slightly breathless. There was bated silence as Dick waited for Jasonās reply.
āFine. Shoot.ā Jason answered, and he heard Dick sigh with relief.
āItās just, after what happened the night before, Bās been on edge ever since. He barricaded himself inside his office, and well, I thought he was going to be in there for a while, but he actually came out of it earlier tonight.ā Dick explains.
āAnd you want me to come over and talk with the fucking brick wall?ā Jason growled. Answering the phone really was a bad idea. āHe doesnāt listen and Iām tired of being the only one whoās doing all the trying!ā
āThatās not what I was talking about Jay. Itāsā¦itās not that.ā There it is again, the same breathless whisper of a voice that is most definitely hiding something.
āThen what? Iām hanging up.ā Jason pulled the phone away from his ear when there was suddenly a muffled, high pitched scream from the other side. Jason immediately pressed the phone back to his ear.
It was a scream of agony, of loss, a scream Jason himself is so akin to. Itās as if something had been torn away from someone, and they were yelling their lungs out and their throats raw. There was this desperation within the ear-piercing wail, as if seeking for someone to help.
And it was a scream of a kid too.
After that, he couldnāt hear much more. Either Dick dropped his phone onto something face down or he pocketed it because all he could hear was the very muffled a soft and pleading voice, which is most definitely Dickās. But the screaming didnāt die down though. Instead, now, the kid was screaming something, a word, a couple words which Jason couldnāt discern either.
There was a moment when it was just the rustle of fabric before Dick started talking again, but now with less vigour and rawer, unpolished emotion.
āJason? Jay?ā Dick called, anxious for a reply.
āWhat in the world was that?ā Jasonās tone was serious. He was suddenly unsure why Dick was calling him out of everyone else he couldāve called in order to deal with a screaming kid. If it wasnāt about trying to get him to speak to Bruce, then he really canāt think of anything else.
Something in Dick, at that moment, must have broken because the next words that came out of him were so simple and plain and simply lethargic. But it shook Jason to the core.
āThatā¦ā Dick whispers, almost inaudibly, āthat was Bruce.ā
Jason didn't know what to think.
āSomething went wrong during tonightās patrol and he was hit by something.ā Dick supplied, but Jason still didnāt understand.
Jason stared at the small sliver of the moon that was visible behind his curtains. He felt as if he was spacing out.
āWhen he came out of that office, he looked like an empty person, Jay. Neither Alf nor I knew why he came out then, or what was going on in his head, but Iām pretty sure Alf had a better than I did. I suggested that I take over the patrols tonight and that he should rest, but of course, he didnāt listen.ā Dick paused, and Jason still did not know what to say. āā¦You still there?ā
Jason swallowed and found it extremely hard. āYeah.ā He answers but it sounded smaller than what he wanted it to be.
āAnd the ways he did things tonight, it was as ifā¦as if you were, well, gone, all over again. He didn't think before he jumped, he didn't even consider different courses of action to safely capture the rogue villain-wannabe. He got hit by a huge pulsating flash of something and-and heās been de-aged to being a child around the age of ten.ā
Jason found this experience very odd. Nothing that heās heard from Dick so far has properly sunk in and processed.
āBut somethingās wrong. Bās memories donāt match his age. He remembers things that he wouldnāt have known if he was tenā¦like about him being Batman. The guy responsible doesnāt even know what he did and the machine he made shattered when he fired the thing.ā Dick sounded like he was on the verge of screaming too, but at the villain-wannabe who put Dick through whatever predicament he had gone through before he called Jason.
Everything was slowly starting to make sense to Jason now and he has sort of an idea about why Dick was calling him and not Cass who would love to see a de-aged Bruce. And heās not really sure he likes the reason. Old Bruce or young Bruce, he just didnāt want to be near that man.
āā¦Youāre being oddly quiet, you know.ā Dick murmurs through the line.
āDuh, Dickhead Iām trying to listen. Go on.ā It didnāt come out as snappy as he wanted it to be. In fact, it was pale in comparison to what usually came out of him.
āHis ten-year-old self isnāt ready for all the shit heās been through all the way until nowā¦Itās shredding him apart, and I canāt do anything about it! Just imagine a small plastic bucket and trying to pour in a large hot tub of melting tar into it. Whatever is holding the melted tar was made for it, much like how the B now is able to deal with his emotions by shoving them under the rug, but, pouring the tar into the plastic bucket would overflow and break it.ā Dick drew in a shaky breath.
Trust Dick to put his words into an analogy. Jason doesnāt know if it helped or not, but the imagery of burning and melting plastic wasnāt something he would associate with B. āBruceā¦heās only something like ten years old, but he remembers me and Alf, but nothing at all about Tim and Damian.ā
Jason realised that his heart rate was picking up again.
āYouāre the only one who can help him, Jay. He remembers you.ā
āBut so what? Heāll remember me as the kid who gave him all the trouble he never asked for. What do I have to do with all this? Youāre clearly Bās No 1 golden child. If you canāt do anything for him then thereās no chance Iāll be able to do anything better.ā Hopefully, Dick couldnāt tell that Jason was slightly panicking, because heās starting to. āIf you remember, I make things worse, not better.ā
āJay, this is different! B needs you. Itās because he precisely remembers you that youāre the one that can calm him down.ā
āJesus fucking Christ, his headās too stuck up his ass to say that he needs me!ā Jasonās voice rumbled as he spat that sentence out. Whatās so different this time?
If B remembers him and Dick but not Replacement and Demon spawn, then, oh shit. If Dickās analogy rings trueā¦
āWhat exactly does he remember?ā Jason commanded Dick to tell him. All along, heās been avoiding that one topic throughout his explanation.
There was a moment of hesitation. Jason could see Dick struggling with himself, whether or not he wanted to say it or not.
āWhen you were Robin. He remembers you dying.ā
Dick mustāve said the last word too loudly because the instant he said it the screaming began all over again. This time Jason heard loud and clear what kid Bruce was screaming.
It was his name, twisted in blood and anguish. It sent goosebumps down his neck. Jason realised that he didnāt have a choice in whether he was going to the manor or not. Especially when his name was being called and called over and over again in such excruciation and desperation.
I started reading Jaydick fics again (when Iām not supposed to because thereās this thing called HSC which Iām supposed to be studying for ;-;) and I couldnāt help but draw them. Iāve never drawn proper backgrounds before so I was pleasantly shocked when I did do something of a background 6.6
Lol pls check out my instagram (lol I practically only draw guys):Ā https://www.instagram.com/bubblesss_32/
Any suggestions to draw more? Because I really do love drawing them xD
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