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desmondmlles · 1 day

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Of caves, poisonous arrows, and futures

AO3

Word count : 5168

Summary:

“I saw this poison at work. He will be dead in a matter of hours, and there is nothing we can do.” This wasn’t how Dick had planned his night to go. This wasn’t how he had planned his future to go. (But at least Jason is there, so he’s not alone.)

Note:

So, this is a fic I started writing when I just got into Batfam and I decided to finish it now. I hope the style and characterization aren’t too inconsistent considering 4 years passed between the moment I started and finished it. Enjoy!

Dick blinks. There is something hard and cold pressing on his back. The smell in the air and the lack of light is very characteristic. He’s in a cave. It’s not the cave though, the one that fells like home and long nights and relief. This one just feels cold and empty. How many caves are there in Gotham anyway? Too many, that’s it.

He’s not alone. There is someone here, very close, talking. He can’t really understand what the other person is saying, but the voice doesn’t sound very happy. It also sounds inhuman. Synthetic, his mind supplies, artificial or modified voice. Ally or enemy? He blinks again, willing his eyes to adapt to the dim light, his brain to understand what’s going on. Finally, he makes out the known features of a red helmet. Ally then. His days as enemy with Red Hood are long gone, replaced with something else. He can’t say they’re brothers now, because in a way, they’ve always been, even in the darkest times, when none of them wanted to. But friends doesn’t exactly cut it either. Allies, depending on the day, might be the closest thing. He still doesn’t really get what Jason is saying, but his attention focusses on something else. There is a third person.

His shoulder hurts and then everything comes back.

He took a fucking arrow in the shoulder. No, that doesn’t make sense. An arrow wound wouldn’t make him that confused. There is something else. Well. He’s gonna have to let Jason understand this one because he’s tired. It’s about time for the kid to do some detective work anyway.

A gloved hand slaps him in the face and that’s rude. Jay should be nicer because he’s hurt and it’s not fair. This wasn’t even his fault. Not even in a self-sacrificing way. It was an accident. He really thought he could get both himself and the civilian out of the way of the arrow. Wait, no. Not a civilian. Well, not exactly a civilian. Matthew Munch is a low-grade thief that had decided to steal from a bigger fish than he could handle. Bigger fish decided to shoot him a poisoned arrow (because that was probably what had happened right? Poison) while Nightwing and Red Hood were apprehending him, both of them more interested in the big fish in question, a new organization. And Dick had just jumped. Like an idiot. Which led to a temporary alliance between two vigilantes and a thief. Oh, Jason is probably loving this.

“I saw this poison in action. He’s as good as dead.”

Oh, and Matthew Munch is also the local ray of sunshine apparently. Trust his hearing to recover just so he could hear that.

“You shut the fuck up.”

Well, actually understanding his brother is nice. Even if he could do without the helmet. He always hated it. Like he hates the cowl that mask half of Bruce’s face. Seriously. Dominos are way better. At least Damian still have just a domino mask. He wonders if and when his youngest brother will outgrow it.

Another slap across his face takes him back to the reality of being slumped in the cold, unfamiliar cave.

“Wing, are you with me?”

Dick blinks again. Matthew says something he doesn’t listen to. Instead, he closes his eyes and nod frenetically.

“Yeah. I’m with you”

Oh, he can talk. That feels good. Even better is the sigh of relief that escape the helmet. But it also means Jason was worried, so maybe not that much of a good sign.

“Ok. That’s great. Do you think you can walk?”

He hears a “obviously he can’t” from behind his brother, and it’s sheer spite and stubbornness that have him gather his legs under him and his arms around Jason’s shoulders.

“I can. Help me up.”

Sheer spite and stubbornness got him far. He’s proud to say that sheer spite and stubbornness got him to climb on supposedly unclimbable things, to perform stunts that no children could possibly do, to solve cases the Batman himself was struggling with, to create a team of “way too young” badass superheroes and to become a badass solo superhero himself while being “way too young” and “not ready.” Come to think of it, he was way too young and absolutely not ready when he first became Nightwing. But. That’s beside the point. The point is: spite and stubbornness got him far.

In this case, spite and stubbornness get him approximately fifteen foots from his starting point before he collapses back onto the cave’s floor. Jason curses and slow down his decent but they still end up in the exact same position they were five minutes ago. Matthew makes a distressed noise, which is new. Wasn’t the guy very neutral about Nightwing’s death just a few moments ago?

“The hitman is gonna be back! We don’t have time!”

Oh, so this wasn’t about him falling. This was about him slowing them down. Well, Matthew will have to deal with it because Dick doesn’t think he’s getting up on his own anytime soon. The only thing keeping him sitting more or less upright is Jason’s hands on him. Jason, who seems determined to ignore Matthew as he pats his face again and force him to open his eyes.

“Wing, look at me. I’m gonna get you out of here even if it means carrying you all the way, okay?”

It might very well mean that. Jason sounds worried, even with the voice modifier. This isn’t good. A worried Jason is usually one step away from an angry Red Hood, and he doesn’t have the energy to deal with that right now. He coughs, tastes blood, the hands around him are getting tighter and…

“We should move!”

… and he can practically feel the moment where worried Jason is gone, and angry Red Hood takes over.

“Look, I want to get out of here as much as you do, but right now he…”

“Like I said. He’s as good as dead.”

It takes Dick one second to understand the implication. It takes Jason less than that, because the hands on him are gone, and even with his eyes closed, he can imagine that Matthew is facing the barrel of a gun. He should really prevent Jay from killing anybody, especially the guy he just got hurt protecting, but his whole body is heavy.

“You peace of shit! Nightwing jumped in front of a poisoned arrow for you. And you’re just suggesting we leave him here to agonize alone?”

“I’m not saying we should let him agonize here.”

There is a beat of silence for a second or two that informs Dick he’s not the only one who doesn’t quite understand.

“Look. There is no saving him. You have guns. It’s mercy at this point.”

Something cold washes over him. It has nothing to do with the poison.

I’m making an executive decision Catwoman, I’m saving our lives…

No, not going there. Not thinking of that. Not right now. Jason is not gonna kill him. No one is gonna kill him. Jason is not gonna kill anyone. He won’t let him.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

The mechanical voice is barely a whisper at this point, so Matthew really should start thinking carefully about what he will say next.

“Just give me the gun. I know you Bats don’t like to get your hands dirty.”

Wrong thing to say.

“Oh, I can get my hand dirty all right. In fact, the only reason I’m not getting my hands dirty right here, right now with your fucking little brain is-”

“Hood.”

He can’t do much more than calling out, and cough a little more, but that seems to do the trick. Angry Red Hood is gone, and worried Jason is back. For the time being at least.

“Okay. Fuck. Come on. On by back.”

Dick feels himself being lifted and does his best to hold on to Jason’s neck. Despite the situation, he giggles weakly, “Yay. Piggyback ride.”

Jason snorts. It’s a little distorted, both by the mask and the exertion. The Red Hood is a mountain of pure muscles but, despite being smaller and thinner, Dick knows he isn’t exactly light.

“Don’t get used to it.”

“The hitman will be back. You can’t fight like this.”

Matthew Munch, official killjoy.

“You…” Jason sounds like he’s having a hard time not yelling, which he probably is. “You make yourself useful and find a way out of here.”

Matthew doesn’t seem to be willing to move, which is weird for someone who was so adamant about getting out of the cave earlier. Dick wishes he would get his mind into it, because he feels like he should be in a cot in the Batcave like yesterday. Or in his bed in the manor. Or his apartment. He’s not picky. He just doesn’t want to stay any longer than he has to do on Jason’s back in an unknown cave with a probably lethal poison cursing through his veins.

“You can’t leave me like that! I’m unarmed! At least give me one of your guns or something!”

The guy is definitely overestimating both his luck and Dick’s performance at keeping Jason murder free.

“Oh, I absolutely can. And you just threatened to take my brother out like a dog, so don’t think I’m letting you anywhere near a weapon anytime soon. Now go, or the hitman will be the least of your problems!”

That seems to do the trick. Something in Dick’s chest warm up at the world brother, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it. Because Jason starts walking and his whole body hurts with the movement. He’s pretty sure he let out a pained gasp.

“Hang in there, Dickface.”

“Names” he breath out. He hears an exasperated sigh.

“He’s far away. Can’t hear us.”

“You let the thief get away?”

He’s glad. At least his little brother won’t be killing anybody today.

“I put a tracker on him. He’s not going anywhere but in prison.”

Dick breath in, breath out. He’s not sure how he feels about Matthew going to prison. There is something about the guy. He feels like he knows him. He doesn’t exactly recall from where and he doesn’t have the energy to think about it.

“That’s smart. You’re smart.”

He feels like he should say it. He feels like there is a lot of things he should say to Jason, just in case. Didn’t Matthew said the poison was killing in minutes or something? Dick knows he’s been trained to resist most poisons, but that still might not be enough. The arrow wound is in his left shoulder. How close to the heart is too close? He’s glad no one put him out, but the idea of his little brother walking out of the cave with his dead body on his back is somehow worse. Bruce is gonna hate this. He’s probably going to yell, and Jason is gonna yell back. Dick doesn’t want them to fight. He always hated it. Well, not always. When he was a teenager, a stupid, selfish teenager, when Jason was Robin, before…before. He loved when Bruce was lecturing Jason then. It saw it as some kind of weak proof that the kid wasn’t better than him. That he couldn’t totally replace him.

“You’re awfully quiet up there. Everything okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re not that heavy.”

They both know he’s not talking about that.

“No, for being an ass… when… before…”

He slips, and is jostled maybe a bit too much when his brother stabilizes him on his back, but Jason’s voice is neutral as he says, “We’ve talked about this. Now is not the time.”

And that’s right, they’ve talked about it. But it was always like this - when one of them was close to death or having a nervous breakdown. They never sit down and talk things like a normal family. It is what normal families do, isn’t it? Dick doesn’t remember. Back in the circus, he was shielded from the big problems, up until the big problems were too high, with no net and a broken rope. But this isn’t the time to think about that. If everything goes right, he will meet his parents soon. No. Not if everything goes right. No dying. That’s the plan. He still has to tell Jason why he’s sorry though. To confess his sin.

“Back then… one day. We had a huge fight. B and I. And you were such a smug brat, I…”

He hears a laugh.

“Yeah, sound like me.”

“Anyway, I stormed back to Titan Tower, and I don’t really know why, I mean we were all teens at that point, I don’t really know why we had so much alcohol.”

He hears Jason snort. Talking hurts, but now that he started, he’s not ready to stop. He takes a breath that feels like a sob.

“And I’d already been drunk a few times, B had us build alcohol tolerance, right? So, I knew the effects and all, but I decided to screw safety. I was just… I just wanted to stop thinking for a while.”

His brother makes an understanding noise. They’d all been there.

“And I said… God, I didn’t think, I didn’t mean it, I was hurting, I was wasted, but that’s no excuses. I just… I said I just wished you would…”

He feels the shoulders under him go stiff, but Jason keeps walking in silence.

He had been an asshole to Roy to, that day. The archer had been so careful with him, taking away the booze, giving him a glass of water and a bucket. But at some point, he slipped, called him the wrong name.

Come on Rob, you’ve had enough, let’s get you to bed.

And Dick, like the hurting little bastard he was, had yelled at him. Told him not to call him that, never call him that, that there was no more Robin, that Robin died the day Jocker put a bullet in his shoulder.

Robin is dead. The Joker killed him.

The irony isn’t lost on him. The exact same words had his whole world collapsing on him not even a year later.

Robin is dead. The Joker killed him.

What a big brother he was. Didn’t even go to the funeral.

“Enough. You didn’t know.”

Dick realizes that Jason talks like Bruce before he realizes he was talking out loud. Tim got the detective skills, Damian the quiet way of showing he cares and the stubbornness, Steph the unbreakable will, but Jason. Of all the Robins, he’s the one whose leadership is the closest to Batman. Once he realizes he has the ability to make people shut up and order him without pointing a gun at them, just by using this tone, he will be next to unstoppable. So, Dick obeys. He doesn’t really have a choice; this is a Batman tone, and he’s been trained, he’s been conditioned to obey that tone. But if he says that to Jason, he will be angry.

So, he forces himself to stop thinking about the three words - Robin is dead - that have his mind supplying Jason’s grave and Damian’s body. He focuses on physical sensation instead. This, he can deal with.

His left shoulder hurts, which isn’t exactly news, but it’s still there. Nothing but his mouth seems to be ready to move at his commend, his muscles painfully spasming sometimes. That’s the poison. The poison also apparently has him hurt with each breath, but he’s not wheezing, at least not yet, so he counts that as a win. There is something that feels suspiciously like blood running from his nose and between his lips, down his face, on Jason’s jacket.

And it hits him.

He’s bleeding all over Jason. Jason has his blood on him. No one should have a family member blood on them.

His parents died close to him, so close he still wondered on his loneliest nights if he could have caught them, but none of their blood actually went on him at first. It was only when he ran to them. In retrospect, no one should have let an eight-year-old kid run toward his parents’ bodies. It was only when he ran to them that the mixture of sand and blood found its way to his bare feet.

He doesn’t remember exactly when the blood was washed away. He has a memory of Alfred helping him wash his ankles with a washcloth during his first days with them, but it couldn’t be then, right? He‘d spent too much time in juvie for the blood to still be on him when he first came to the manor. But then again, he didn’t exactly had the luxury or the energy to care about personal hygiene there, and his memories from that time were pretty messy. But there is one thing he knows. He doesn’t want Jason to have his blood on him. Suddenly, Jason not having his blood on him became the most important thing.

“What are you wearing?”

It occurs to him at the same time he ears the confused “What?” that they went straight from a conversation about Jason’s death to asking about his clothes, but coherence is unimportant right now. Right now, what matters the most is his little brother not having blood touching his skin.

“Your shoes. What are you wearing?”

He coughs. There’s more blood going to Jason’s jacket, and it will probably be impossible to wash out, but it doesn’t matter as much as him not feeling the warmth of a family member blood directly on his skin.

“Combat boots,” Jason humors him. “Why the fuck are you asking that?”

Ok, that’s good. Combats boots are good. But he still needs to check for himself, so he opens his eyes.

Woah.

The ground is very, very far away. He knows this is probably the poison messing with his equilibrium and depth perception, but the ground seems very, very far away as Jason walks. He sees the combats boots, good, and then close his eyes. He waits until the nausea passes to talk again. Jason didn’t say anything about the blood on his jacket, but Dick is pretty sure he won’t appreciate vomit.

“You’re so tall,” he says.

Jason snorts, but there is no humor. “Well. I grew up, against all odds.”

They are both aware the odds he’s talking about aren’t his short size as a kid. Dick didn’t think he would have the chance to see Jason grow up. He didn’t think he would have the chance to see Damian grow up. How much can destiny gift someone the return of their loved ones from the dead until it’s had enough?

“Damian became so tall, too” he says instead of asking the question. It’s true. He dreads the day where he won’t be able to pick Damian up to bother him anymore.

“Given his parents, he will become even taller. And you’ll see him grow up.”

Dick doesn’t say anything to that. Jason’s voice sounds a little too desperate and it makes him wonder how much blood he’s actually coughing all over his brother’s jacket.

“You should have seen him, when he came back, and you weren’t there. He just- I’m not doing that again.”

“You guys were fine,” Dick says, half trying to convince himself. He’s still dealing with the guilt of the whole Spyral thing. Maybe he could have fought harder with Bruce. Maybe he could have gone against orders and still told the others. “You will be just fine.”

Jason sounds like he’s going to say something, but Dick adds, “If she wants it, Steph can be Nightwing. Tell her I would be honored.”

Jason stabilizes him, jostling him maybe a little too much. “You tell her yourself, I’m not your errand boy.”

Dick let his head loll on Jason’s shoulder. “Yeah,” he says, “Yeah, I will.”

He doesn’t know how long he drifts for before he hears Jason ask, “Talk to me.”

He opens his mouth and feels more blood coming out from his throat. “What do you want me to talk about?” he croaks with difficulties.

“I don’t know, the future. What do you have planned?”

Despite the situation, Dick finds himself laughing. “Not… Not this.”

“No, come on. Humor me. What do you want to do? Not even as Nightwing. What does Dick Grayson plan to do?”

Dick would choke if he still had enough breath to. “Since when do you care about what Dick Grayson wants to do?”

“Since now.”

“Well I-” he coughs. Closes his eyes. This sucks. “I kinda did a job interview last week.”

“For what kind of job?” Jason replies immediately.

“Gym instructor. In Blüdhaven youth detention center. First, but maybe it will expend to adults if it goes well. They have… they don’t have a lot of equipment. They told me I should just make them run, but I was thinking… maybe soccer, or even yoga. I can teach them to juggle, equilibrium, or…”

He trails off when his breath runs short. “Circus art,” Jason finishes for him.

Dick nods in his shoulder. “Yeah.”

“You’ll be good at it.”

“I’m not hired yet.” He’s not out of this cave yet.

“Doesn’t matter, you’ll be good at it.”

Dick wonders about that. Would his short time in juvie give him enough knowledge to actually understand what these kids are going through?

It suddenly hits him. “I know where I know him from.”

“Who?”

“Matthew Munch. I know where I know him from. He was in juvie with me.” It occurs to him that he never told Jason that he knew Matthew Munch, but Jason doesn’t call him out on it.

“Well,” he says. “Your friend turned into a looser.”

“He wasn’t my friend,” Dick corrects him. He was one of his bullies, actually. “And not everyone is lucky enough to become Bruce Wayne’s ward.”

Jason let out a sound that makes Dick think he has some reservation on the lucky part of their fate, but again, he doesn’t say anything. This, more than anything, makes Dick feel dizzy. If Jason isn’t going to fight with him, or at least complain, about that, then it might very much mean he thinks they’re in their last moments together.

“Not everyone is you,” Jason finally says after a time. “But these kids will have the chance to have you, I’ll make sure of it.”

Jason is a little out of breath, too. He’s walking fast, and Dick isn’t light. But there something comforting, something warm about the statement. Dick felt it when Jason was defending him against Matthew earlier, too.

He grew up. He grew up so fast, and Dick wasn’t there for it. But still, he came back to them. And he became so strong. Dick is sure he will grow up so much more, still.

And he might not be there to see it.

“And you?”

“Hm?”

“What does Jason Todd plan to do?”

“Names.”

Dick opens his eyes. Did Jason just names-ed him? Really? Really? After they used nothing but their real names for the last… he’d lost the notion of time, and maybe that should be worrying him, but now he’s more outraged at the face that Jason just names-ed him.

Jason must see the outrage on his face because he laughs, and the vibration of his lugs reverberate in Dick’s painful body. It hurts, but he’s not unhappy about it. “Jason Todd plans to get out of this cave.”

Dick sighs dramatically. It’s painful, but the amused look on Jason’s face is worth it.

“Come on. Humor me here, I’m…” he trails off. Saying I’m dying will not help lighten the mood, even if none of them can really forget it. The fact hangs in the conversation like a thick fog.

“I didn’t exactly get the chance to act on the growing up plan I wrote in sixth grade, in case you didn’t notice.”

This, too, his hanging around them like thick fog. Jason died. Dick is dying. There is no going around it. But still.

“But you grew up, still. You’re here now. You have a future. You should make plans.”

Jason stays silent for what seems like a long time and Dick wonders if this is it. If he’s going to close himself off and ends the conversation there. “I have plans,” he finally says.

Dick blinks. “So? Tell me.”

“I will tell you. Once we’re out of this cave, I’ll tell you.”

And that’s a promise. That’s a plan, a short-term plan, but a plan nonetheless. Something for Dick to hold on into like a drowning man hanging to a rope. Except the sea is angry and the rope is starting to unravel.

He’s not sure he will know, after all. He’s not sure he will get to know what Jason’s plans are. But he’s glad they exist.

He closes his eyes one second, and the next they’re out of the cave.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Jason tells him and maybe it’s a little too late for that. But Dick doesn’t tell him that. He doesn’t think he can talk anymore, anyway.

But Jason isn’t paying attention to him much anyway. He’s yelling at someone – a comm? “Yeah, no, I don’t care about that guy, I need a car, like, yesterday. No, I don’t need-” On cue, the sound of tires screeching covers his voice. A car is here. Despite everything, after everything, the sound of the Batmobile still brings comfort to Dick.

There is some silence Dick can only interpret as a staring battle between Jason and Bruce, before Batman says, “Get him to the cave.”

“I didn’t need your permission,” is Jason’s immediate answer.

Batman doesn’t rise to the provocation. “Robin, go with them; Black Bat, you’re with me, we’re getting into that cave; Red Robin, go assist Batgirl-”

“Wait, no,” Jason interrupts. “We need someone who is more used to the cave new antidote system than Robin and I. Red Robin comes with us, Robin go assist Batgirl on whatever it is she’s doing, and yes Blondie, you are babysitting.”

From where he’s on Jason’s shoulder, Dick can hear Steph reply that she didn’t say anything. No one else contests the order, not even Batman. Dick knows Jason doesn’t want to hear it, and he won’t be able to say it anyway, but in that instant, he’s a good leader. That shouldn’t really surprise Dick; Jason had his own men at some point, perhaps still does. He always had his doubts but now, Dick is sure of it: if things have been different, Jason could have been the successor of Batman.

There is some movement, and he’s not exactly proud of it, but he whines when he feels the warmth of Jason’s shoulder moving away.

“I’m not far… you’re so needy,” he hears Jason says from what he finally registers is the driving seat of the Batmobile.

There is a hand shaking his shoulder. “Don’t fall asleep,” Jason says again. Dick wants to reply something, he really does, but he blinks, the world tilts, and the next thing he knows, he’s no longer in the Batmobile.

He groans. There is an immediate shuffle next to him. “Oh, hey, hey, are you awake?”

That’s Tim. He blinks, or he think he does. Tim falls back into the chair next to the cot. “I can’t believe it worked.”

“What happened to ‘trust me, I’m sure it will work’, pretender?”

Tim shrugs. “I had to say something, didn’t I? Confidence is key.”

Dick isn’t sure of that, and he wants to tell Jason to not call Tim that, but figures are moving, he feels dizzy. He blinks, and…

“Are you really awake this time?”

Tim is no longer on the chair anymore, Jason is.

“Is everyone ok?” Dick asks, and he’s satisfied when his voice, if a bit shaky, comes out as intended.

Jason stares for a second. “Yeah, everyone is ok. Bats had them go upstairs.”

“But you’re here.”

“Since when am I obliged to follow his orders?”

Dick is surprised. He had expected Jason to leave as soon as he was out of the woods, maybe to continue the case.

“Matthew Munch?” he asks.

Jason stares again, before sighing. “You’re unbelievable,” he says, but there is no heat behind the words. “Yeah, he’s fine, he’s in custody of the GCPD, which might be where he’s the safest.”

Dick doesn’t say anything to that. A part of him wants to ask Jason why he’s still in the cave, but another is scared it will make him angry or make him leave.

Jason seems to understand the unsaid question anyway, because he laughs. “I have something to say to you, don’t I?” And then, much lower, very fast, he says. “I’m training to get an EMT certification.”

Dick blinks. What? “You already know field aid.” And he’s better than any starting EMT, too.

Jason seems to look everywhere but at him. “Yeah, well, if I want the job, I need the certification.”

He suddenly recalls their conversation in the cave, the other cave, not that long ago. “So that’s what Jason Todds plans to do. That’s great. You’ll be good at it.”

Jason looks everywhere but at him. “Yeah, well. No one could save that kid, all these years ago, but maybe if I save someone else… I don’t know. It just feels like the right thing to do.”

“It is,” Dick says. “I’m so proud of you.” And he’s scared maybe that will be it, that will be what makes Jason run away, but it isn’t. Jason just sits there in silence.

“You look tired,” Dick tells him, because it’s true.

Jason laughs. “Well, you should look in the mirror.”

“Not fair,” Dick replies. “I got poisoned. But you saved me. You’re good at this, saving people, you’ll be good. I’m sure of it.”

Jason clears his throat. “You too, I guess,” he says, even if Dick doesn’t remember actually saving anybody tonight. “You phone rang this morning, by the way. I didn’t answer, but the caller first name was Tina and her family name entered was ‘Gym teacher job’. That sounds probably good, right?”

Dick hmms. He will have to call her later, but Jason is right. This is good. Calling back, instead of an email or nothing, is usually a good sign.

There is some noise upstairs, and Jason stands. “And, that’s my cue to go.” He waves his hand. “Feel better, I guess.”

Dick blinks and Jason is on the other side of the cave. “Wait, Jay.” He needs to tell him something.

Jason stops. “Good luck, for the EMT certification.”

Jason doesn’t say anything to that, just takes his bike and goes.

Dick closes his eyes. They survived. And maybe they do have a future.

Note:

I hope you liked the story, many thanks to @ohmytoddhewitt for beta reading!

#v good #fic rec #dc comics

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