#mommaursa

Jason came running at the sound of glass shattering on the floor, of someone hitting the ground, of a door slamming.

As he came to the landing at the top of the stairs, he immediately saw Cass pushing herself up from her side, diving towards a nearby door.

“Bad.” She said, shaking at the doorknob, pressing her ear against the door. She glanced up at Jason. “Very bad.”

“What’s wrong?” Jason asked, stepping carefully around the shards of glass on the floor, the liquid pooling around them. A drink of water, he knew, one he’d just given Damian before he and his elder sister made their way up the staircase.

Cass shook her head, ducking to the ground, to her hands and knees to peek under the door. “Don’t know. Saw something? He…pushed me.” A pause. “I think to…to get me out of the way. Protect me.”

Jason reached out, grabbed the doorknob. Locked.

Shit.

“Kid!” And it was a bad idea, but he didn’t have another choice. If they were unlucky, the kid already bolted out the window. Was probably already at the outer wall of the grounds. But if they weren’t, the kid was still inside. But the only way to know was to say one thing, the one thing the child, for some reason, never wanted to hear. “Damian!”

“No!” Came the muffled reply. Not too muffled, though, and that was oddly a relief, because it meant he wasn’t near the window.

“On the floor.” Cass confirmed, standing back up, trying the door handle one more time. “Right inside.”

So no battering-ram-kicking the door down. Got it.

“Well, then.” Jason sighed, pulling his knife from his pocket. “It’s a good thing I never forgot how to pick a lock.”

Cass raised a silent eyebrow, but stepped back anyway. He knelt down, twitching as the water puddled there seeped up through his jeans. Below the clicking noises of his knife slipping, he could hear the haggard breath of his brother, the staccato gasps of a child who was petrified.

“In and out, kiddo.” Jason called, noticed the shadow under the door shift. “In, count to three, out, count to five.”

He doesn’t know if Damian did it or not. Didn’t much care either, as two seconds later he heard the distinctive click against the doorframe. The door shifted, and he didn’t get a chance to stand before Cass was pushing the barrier open, jumping into immediate action.

Damian was collapsed on the floor three feet in front of him. On his knees, face curled to the ground, hands covering the back of his hair. He looked almost like a cat, or a coiled dragon, his skinny spine near grotesque, with the ridges outlined by his skin so badly it showed through his t-shirt. They looked like they were about to pop out, all made worse when he inhaled, and those bones pushed further up, became sharp teeth.

Cass was at his side instantly, running her hand gently along those ridges. Jason was almost surprised they didn’t cut her.

“Here…” Damian wheezed, squeezing his hair tighter. “He’s here…I saw him.”

Jason sighed again.

Double shit.

“It’s for my punishment. He’s here to lay down my punishment, just like he used to, just like the last time.” A shudder rippled across his shoulders. “I abandoned him. I’m a deserter and he’s gonna-!”

Cass didn’t let him finish. Gripped his sides and yanked him out of his fetal position. Pulled him gently into her lap. Damian’s hyperventilation kicked back into overdrive, and as Jason stood, Cass put a hand on his chest, began mimicking Jason’s earlier instructions herself, until Damian followed suit.

Jason glanced down the hallway, towards the shadows the setting sun was creating through the windows and doorways. And he could see it, could see Damian’s line of thinking. After all, the child was always on edge, for this very reason. Out of the primal fear that Owlman will come here. Will return to take back his Talon, by any means necessary.

So yeah, he could see it. Could see the shape of a masked man in those shadows, of course.

And it was a stale thought, reiterated by someone in this stupid house at least once a day.

But Owlman was going to pay for this.

And right now, Jason’s greatest wish was that he was the one who got to collect.

He glanced back to the duo on the floor, watched as Cass silently wiped an errant tear from Damian’s face, held his head against her neck.

“Bruce?” She asked softly, ducking down to look into Damian’s glassy eyes. Damian gulped, gave a nod.

“And Richard.”

“Okay.” She instantly glanced up at Jason in expectation. Jason let out a mockery of a groan as she bundled Damian up into her arms, took him bridal-style into the hall. He watched them for a moment, as she carried him further towards the shadows, as his hand dug into her neck in anticipation. He watched as she suddenly veered off into a bedroom.

Into Bruce’s bedroom.

He snorted a laugh, shaking his head as he walked around the mess of the shattered cup remaining in the hallway. He’d get that in a minute, he thought as he pulled the phone from his pocket, held it against his ear, but first-

“This is Wayne.”

“You and Goldie, and probably Timbo, are going to want to come home.” He said simply, trotting down the stairs. “Now.”