#ask andromeda

Bruce was sparring with an eight-year-old, this was normal apparently. It didn’t even look like he was holding back that much. Little Cassandra kept up like it was second nature, unperturbed by the size of her opponent. She was lightning-quick and frighteningly graceful. It was only until they had noticed Alfred’s presence that the fight paused. It was rather odd. 

“We were having a conversation, that’s how she speaks.” was all Master Wayne said, the butler narrowly dodged a kick from the girl before Bruce smiled and explained, “That means hello. She’s happy to see you.”

***

Cass loves ballet, she taught herself all the dances from those animated Barbie movies and filled the ballroom with classical music to practice whenever she could. Singlehandedly changing the purpose of her body, from a weapon to an art, but there was only so much she could do on her own, and eventually, she asked to be taught how to dance. 

Bruce was well-versed in some kinds of dance, ballroom mostly, it was the sort of thing any high-society type was expected to know. He also had some experience on the pole, which took advantage of the strength in his arms and thighs and general flexibility. He did not know ballet. 

Which was how he ended up accompanying his daughter to her ballet classes, she was nervous to go alone, especially when she saw the slick flat training rooms that reminded her too much of her life before. He wasn’t too old to be a danseur and the instructor was able to integrate him into the group of little girls with surprising ease. 

He could set aside an hour and a half a few times a week to see Cass smile that wide even if he was pretty sure the instructor, who was at least a decade older than him, was flirting with him when the kids weren’t listening. 

All in all, Bruce was just happy Cass found something to be passionate about.

***

Jim Gordon was just getting used to dealing with the bat, he had to admit, the guy got shit done when the deepest pits of this festering city didn’t want him to.

At first, he was completely sure the batman was just a guy. A guy who was real good at what he did and made for a pretty decent halloween decoration. 

Now, he wasn’t so sure. 

There was something in the pitch-black shadows of his cape, Gordon could feel it watching him. Then it was gone, slipping into the darkness of the rooftop without a trace other than the flutter of the bat's wings. 

He fished his pocket for his lighter and his box of cigarettes. By the time he looked up, batman was gone too. Maybe he was just starting to get paranoid.

Two weeks later the same thing happened, but this time, he spotted a little hand against the gray of most of batmans suit. He blinked and it disappeared. A trick of the light perhaps. 

Then he met the baby bat. Tiny alongside its father but vicious in its own right. If that thing was the spawn of the batman, there was no way in hell they were human. At least batman was better at pretending to be, even then he gave Jim the heebie jeebies. 

Then he started to consider that if there was a baby bat, there’s got to be a mama bat somewhere and to save his own sanity from the theory that there were more batpeople out there, he stopped thinking about it. 

Life was so much easier when he was sure batman was just a guy in a stupid fucking suit. 

***

He couldn't feel anything other than the blinding burn on every inch of his skin that only grew deeper within his body. He must've been screaming, but he couldn't hear it, it only made his lungs fill with something, something heavy and blistering and if there was any air left he would be begging for the darkness to just take him already.

And then there was light. An awful shifting living green light. His eyes stung like nothing he had ever felt before and yet he didn't have the presence of mind to wonder why he could still see.

Through the misery, through the cursed water he was drowning in, there started to approach a shadow.

The shadow grew, blotting out the visual pain of veridian flame, whether this darkness was his blessedly welcome demise or his last bit of longing that someone would save him, it didn't matter. It was almost over, it had to be. There was an end within reach.

He reached out for it. Desperate and hopeful.

The shadow reached back. Grasping his weak, nearly numb hand with a strength he had forgotten existed in a world stuck between freefall and weightless floating. It pulled, enveloping him in its firm embrace as they started to rise from the infinite torment.

The moment his head breached into the open air, the misery noticeably started to fade, but his throat was still filled to its brim, and its spasms were too weak to dislodge it. It was only when he was fully exhumed and set on his side that the acidic liquid finally started to leave his body in fits and bursts.

"That's it, let it out," Finally the shadow had a face, a familiar one. An ungloved hand resting on Jason's arm as he gasped for air. He could imagine a frantic pile of heavy dark metal armor resting on the bank of whatever fucked up pond he had been submerged in.

Jason grasped at the hand keeping him steady as he gasped through the last throes of the pain, leaving him with the vivid memory of it and the bone-deep exhaustion pulling him lower to the ground.

"Bruce-" it came out in a sob the moment he had enough air to say it. he couldn't find it within him to be embarrassed about the vulnerability of his wavering voice like he normally would.

"You're okay, you're okay," The prince attempted to reassure them both, keeping his voice as calm as he could as he crashed from adrenaline and pure condensed fear. He picked the young knight from the luminous riverbank, fully carrying him towards his sizable obsidian black steed. "It's time to go home."

***

His consciousness returned for a moment with the rhythmic and jarring thumping of a horse's gait, there was an arm as firm as steel keeping him secure, tucked in safely against the familiar armor of its rider.

"Almost there Jaylad," Bruce uttered from just above his head, he couldn't tell if the prince had been speaking the whole way or if he could somehow tell that he had woken up despite not moving or even opening his eyes.

With that comfort, he slipped back into the darkness.

***

Jason woke up from a dark and dreamless sleep surrounded by softness and warmth. He also woke up with several indications that he was not left alone.

"How mad do you think Bruce would be if he caught one of us fraternizing with the magic folk in the lockup, because that lightning kid is really fun to talk to." Richard asked in what may have started out as a whisper but had slowly become more confident in his fellow Robin's heavy rest that it was practically the normal volume of his voice.

"He probably already knows, as long as you don't try to break him out, it should be fine," Steph replied flippantly. "Oh Rao, you woke him up, great job Dickhead," She swore an alien name that had accidentally been passed down between the placeholder royalty from the stars to the Prince that commanded them.

"Jason!" he opened his eyes just in time to see Richard flip from his perch at the far bedpost to his bedside. "How are you feeling?"

Jason took stock of his body and was surprised by what he found.

"I feel great." When that statement came out a little too deadpan and his fellow knights looked completely unconvinced, he opened his mouth again, "No, really, I'm fine. Better than normal, actually." Now that wasn't quite true, but he didn't know how to explain that he felt kind of hollowed out emotionally. But physically, he felt pretty good.

"Well, pardon us for questioning that when it looks like you've aged sixty years." Steph joined Richard at his side, covered in her favorite violet cloak, sans her typical intricate armor, she looked a lot smaller without it.

"It's not that bad," Richard defended, "You just have some oddly placed early graying, some people call that a fashion statement." He reached up to the front of Jason's scalp and brought a fingerful of his bangs in front of his eyes, to his surprise, they were a bright white.

"Is he awake?" Jason had failed to notice a shadow forming in the doorway. "I heard you talking from across the hall."

"Your highness," Jason addressed his prince formally, the way he knew Bruce hated, but it was always funny to see his face scrunch up in distaste or to not fear his responding razor-sharp glare. This time, all he got was a quick wince, which was a little disappointing.

"I'll summon the court physician to check you over. I'm sure Leslie would be overjoyed to see you cognizant again." The prince stated flatly, causing Jason to groan and the other two knights to dissolve into cackling. Leslie was not known for soft hands and kind words. At least he could prove that he wasn't lying.

"I'm fine!" Jason claimed.

"You nearly drowned in waters from the Lazarus River and your eyes are glowing green, if you're not a little bit cursed in some way I will eat my horse."

"It can't be that bad." Jason huffed.

"It's not, Bruce is just paranoid," Richard claimed.