#Tim Drake is Red Robin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

castrianamore · 1 year

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You Can’t Teach an Old God New Tricks

DC x DP Crossover

TW: Cannon-Typical violence+ some stuff, panic attacks, terrorist-like attack, Injury

Prologue

What was he doing? Really. Tonight felt off.

There was an eeriness to the air even more so than usual. Tim didn’t know how to take Gotham somehow feeling worse than usual. It was his solo night which was normally nice unless the night was young and then silence set upon Gotham.

“Anyone else not getting good vibes?” Tim’s voice broke the silence into the group coms. Tim could hear Jason finishing beating the shit out of someone. Just slightly labored breath.

“I’ve been riding around and only seen one instance of trouble. Either Gotham’s in a good mood or…”

“Something worse is going to happen.” Dick finished for him. Nightwing or rather Dick was working on his investigation tonight. Tim knew that much and had been trying to let him help. He was a pretty good detective he could say so himself.

“What do you think Batman?”

“I don’t know but something is always up in this city. It’s another night. We won’t let anything else happen to it anyways.”

“Fair fair, oh hey! I see you Babybird!!!” Tim perked up looking around and seeing Nightwing obnoxiously waving from a rather large distance. If it weren’t for his special lenses in his mask he definitely would not have seen the man.

“Oh? Yeah, I have something for you by the way,”Tim reached into his pocket before pretending to grab something and flipping him off with a smirk.

“Wow real mature, Red!”

“Thanks Hood’s been teaching me.”

“Of course he did, see you on the flip side RR.”

And Nightwing dropped from the building presumably running off to go work on something else.

“What did you do that i taught you?”Jason replied a little delayed but still there. “I said stay down you mother fuck—“

“HAHA You have to put money in the swear jar!” Tim teased the elder man.

“Careful Replacement. But what did I teach you that Night wing is being pissy about?”

“Oh I flipped him off.”

“But we both flip him off all the time I don’t?” Jason sounded mildly confused.

“I pretended I was showing him something.”

“Okay that makes sense now.” A small grunt of reply from Tim. He sighs and moves across the building hopping to the next and the next. However…

As Tim jumped to the next a building exploded throwing him into a building’s wall and down into an alley way. His back hitting the hard industrial trash can before making contact with the alleyway floor.

His world was spinning. He was sure he had a concussion. Had to have one with how hard he had been thrown. He was vaguely there for a moment as he collected himself hearing a brief conversation over the coms.

That wall had hurt he was floating between consciousness and being a goner. He guessed he blacked out because when he woke up it was hard to breath.

His own breathing was heavy and the air was thick with smoke. Where was his air filter? He patted his suit getting up. Fuck! He had to have forgotten it in the batcave. How could he forget it in the batcave.

An echoing evil laugh sent a shiver down Tim’s spine. What the fuck was he doing. He moved his hand to his ear as he peaked around the corner of the building to see what was going on. Flames lit the night sky up in a beautiful orange hue but the Smokey fog made things hard to see. He touched his forehead feeling blood and wiped it away for a moment. No use worrying about it now it would have to be treated later

Fuck it was hard to breath.

A large ominous figure floated above the city of Gotham. A flame covered crown floating above his head.

This was supposed to have been a normal night of patrols. His shift. Red Robin’s shift. Nightwing had his own investigations to run and Batman was requested at Arkham asylum for a moment by one of the members of the staff. Tim didn’t really care much in that aspect.

But tonight wasn’t supposed to bring trouble. No one had expected the explosions. The earthquakes and tremors through the Earth’s rock and crust as the concrete cracked and broke and a few buildings exploded.

A silent pressure falling over the city so quickly to lift to the flames. The city that seemingly reached towards the welcoming embers. The screams echoing in his ears as Rubble had scattered around him as the first explosions had gone off and a figure appeared.

“You guys seeing this?” Tim whispered into the coms.

“How could we not? It’s only at least as tall as most buildings around Gotham and FLOATING,”Dick whisper yelled.

“Scarred Dickie-bird?”

“Shut up Little wing.”

“Does anyone have visual on our target?” Batman’s voice silenced the trio of brothers. “And does anyone have contact with Robin? He’s not showing up on coms?”

“Robin? No. I haven’t seen him since we finished our rounds last night.” Tim looked around him grappling to the top of the building to look around and try and get a good look on the person responsible for this.

Definitely not human. Could they be Martian? No they tended to stay around the same size as humans and their natural forms. Who was this?

The wind blew the smoke out of the way. A little as he ran from roof top to roof top a cloth over his mouth as he had one thing in mind. Get higher. He had to get higher. Out of the smoke. Out of the flames. See who he needed to fight.

A cry came over the coms. “Out of commission guys.”

“Nightwing!” Tim’s panicked voice rose as he stopped in his tracks as he lands on the next building eyes going from the ground to the sky.

“Broken ankle and probably crushed my tibia on my left side,”his voice sounded strained.

“What happened?” The stern voice of a concerned father slipped through Batman’s voice ready to tell the kids where to meet to help him.

“Got a few civilians out of a collapsing building but it collapsed and I didn’t get completely out of the way in time.” A deep breath of Nightwings familiar techniques to keep himself conscious and working. He’d definitely been through worse but if he was pinned? That was another question entirely.

“Nightwing, Can you move?”

“Afraid not. This is a solid piece of wood on my leg Babybird.”

“Hood you’re the closest can you get to him?”

“Already on my way.”

“Good.”

“I am so not whelmed right now.”

“RR?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have a better visual? I’m on my way back from Arkham.”

“I do…”

Tim’s eyes widened as he stared up at the figure. Midnight black armor with the flaming crown he could see through the smoke. Cape whipping in the wind as the man gave out a dark a chuckle.

“And you think you Can stop me?”

There was something—no someone in front of him.

A weak cough came from the coms.

“This is Robin to the bats.”

“ROBIN!” All of the bats in synchronized concern at hearing the youngest voice even if it was weak.

“Report, where are you? Now.”

“Bat cave.”

“But your readers aren’t..?”

“I was outside and had to bolt. I dropped it.”

“You’re lying.”

Tim could read Damian like a book. It wasn’t intentional but while the kid was a skilled assassin it didn’t change the fact he had awful people kills and even worse cover stories at times. Quick to anger. Quick to prove wrong too, sometimes.

“Shut up Red.”

“Now is not the time to be playing games Robin. Are you hurt?”

“I was taking down a gambling den and the building collapsed on top of us….”

Silence fell over the group. Robin was trapped under a building with criminals.

“Robin answer the question, are you hurt?” It was Jason this time. The faint sounds of win whipping past and a familiar hum of his motorcycle. Dammit his own motorcycle was probably gone once again. This time more than likely destroyed due to the debris and explosions. Jason was probably on his way to Dick’s location.

“Yes.”

“How badly?” Tim couldn’t help the mild panic in his voice. Damian would be okay, he knew that but his brotherly instinct kicked in for the youngest Robin. He wanted to protect Damian. As much of a nuisance and trouble maker the child was he was still family. His family.

“I think my right arm got dislocated but I popped it back into place. My left wrist I think is fractured. Definitely a broken rib or two.” His shallow breathing and tremors were concerning.

“Anything else?”

“I don’t know how much air I’ll have down here. I don’t think anyone else made it, I’m small so that should buy me time and if I can get my breathing under control until rescue services arrive I might be able fo last.”

Robin was trapped under a building with little air to breath and several broken bones and possible fractures.

No one wanted to breath as it dawned on them how serious this entire situation was. However, before anyone could say another word into the communication devices they were cut off.

“Citizens of the Mortal plane!”

Not that anyone would talk now.

“Red! All I’m picking up is static from your end? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know… the figure it’s talking!” Tim looked up in horror as the smile across the figured face grew and grew with ever sharper teeth and eyes that seemed to be focused exclusively on you and only you. He couldn’t move? Of course he couldn’t move that creature. That thing was terrifying.

“I am here to take control of this existence and your wretched short lives will serve me well. You may call me, Pariah Dark. The Ghost King. The king of the Infinite Realms! You’re new overlord, or your new butcher!”

“Red how close are you?” Jason’s voice. “Red how close are you to that THING?!?!”

“Red!”

“RED ROBIN ANSWER US!!!” Tim wasn’t sure if he could. It felt like his bones had turned to mush and his eyes were focused and trapped on the one thing. He couldn’t move.

The longer the being talked the more static filled his ears as the radios and comms were filled with noice and a high pitched sharp sound caught him off guard as he desperately clawed out the coms throwing it out of his ear in pain. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He could feel the ringing in his ears and the blood trickling down his cheeks as he slowly reached up to touch it. Did his comms just bust his ear drum? He looked around again. His hearing was dulled. It had definitely busted his ear drum.

“You will bow down to me or you will pay a severe price!”

A loud explosion called the man, Pariah Dark, to look in that direction. In a glowing mass of green was another figure. Much smaller but if Tim hadn’t known any better he would say easily more powerful than the so called King of Infinite Realms. But what the fuck was that? How did his coms glitch out so severely to hurt him?

He stood up wearily trying to get closer to the duo. In his head he could hear Nightwing and Jason screaming for him to stay where he was until they could get backup, but Tim knew backup wasn’t coming.

Ghosts were real. The dead could walk amongst the living and haunt people. Had they messed up so badly as humanity that the dead had to come back and teach them a lesson? Was this a chance? A coincidence? He prayed not, but one thing was for sure about this ghost. About this situation he found himself in.

The king stood right in front of him and they needed intel. He had to overhear what was happening to help his family because…

Dick was severely injured.

Damian was trapped and injured

Bruce was too far away.

Jason had to help Dick or Damian.

His electronics were no longer working. No coms. No tracking. No maps. Nothing.

The only one left to get anything useful was himself, and he swore he would do that. The smoke blowing in front of him gave him trouble seeing the figure floating in front of Pariah. The size of a normal human being but was obviously far from normal.

White hair glowing bright and just slightly floating around him. The faint Green light he gave off with the aura of Superman if not far more powerful. Tim didn’t even realize his hands were shaking. The figures arms were crossed and despite being in the presence of someone so powerful the figure seemed relaxed.

Tim placed a hand to his wrist checking his pulse. It was highly elevated was he… was he scared. Yes. He was, but as the figure opened his mouth to speak that fear changed to terror.

An unearthly wail of immeasurable incomprehension filled his ears. These were words, but his mind could not process the language, the pronunciation. Part of him felt as if he knew exactly what the man was saying. The words harsh and strangely familiar. The sounds caused Tim to cover his ears, even if already dulled from having lost one ear drum for the moment. It would not stop the true paralysis of fear in his bones.

He couldn’t breath. Fuck. No. Take in a breath dammit.

Breath Tim! The smoke choked his lungs and his panic attack began to set into his veins which didn’t help his case.

He shook. Knees on the gravel roof hands over his ears. Tears slipping from his eyes catching on his mask, before rolling down his cheek.

Did this make him a coward?

He was petrified. How could they fight something like that? It was far too strong to be human, to be a ghost even. Too … too what?

No, what stood in front of them with a catch of a gleaming smile of razor sharp teeth and glowing green eyes, had to have been a god. The power. The fear.

Tim didn’t know what happened next.

He just knew he blacked out and woke up struggling to breath in Jason’s arms eyes wide as he clutched his brother desperately. Jason kept his grip on him tight.

“Is-is it gone. Is that THING gone?!?!!”

Jason have him a small shush holding him still in Tim’s bedroom. “Tim, it’s been a week since that creature was defeated. Take a deep breath. “

What.

Slowly he looked up at Jason. The tired eyes and a stitched together cut on his forehead telling him that yes. Time had passed. He had been asleep. It was the only thing that made sense.

“Is Damian? Is Dick are they? Are they okay!!?! I need to see them! I need to make sure that they’re.”

The feral attempt to get out of his brother’s arms in a frenzy of panic and anger and confusion and worry only had his brother’s arms growing tighter around him.

“Tim. Tim. Tim .” Jason’s stern voice shook the younger one for a moment though he should have been far more used to it than he had been. “They’re safe. You’re safe. Anyone who was within the immediate hearing range of that fight have been recorded with onset anxiety, panic attacks. Seizure’s, etc. Some jumped off roofs, out windows to escape whatever it was..”

“Am I okay?”

Tim knew he probably looked broken. Hands slipping past his brother’s arms to cover his ears as his mind began to properly take in what had happened. He had passed out from the overwhelming panic and inability to breath on that roof. Jason had said people had been terrified. Rightfully so. That creature was the stuff of nightmares. Anything who had to go toe to toe with them should be fearful. Jason explained a bit more but Tim was already too far gone again staring down at the blankets his heart monitor beeping away next to him.

His heart began to pick up slowly. Jason’s hand on his arm as his eyes grew wide again. He knew what it meant now.

“What did… what did that do to me? What did It do to them?”

Jason looked at him extremely concerned.

“Tim, what do you mean? What happened to you?”

What that creature had said, and he had no idea how he knew this considering all recordings of the event merely ended up as static from his broken electronics, more than likely. Right as he saw Damian enter the room in several casts. He glanced up at him his eyes glazing over once more.  

“I am Phantom, and I will destroy you for touching what is mine, you will be the King of Nothing when I am finished with you.”

Tim didn’t remember much else after that. Merely Jason and Damian having to call for Alfred. Tim was told later that week that he had been in an out of seizure fits for a while. For another week. He had never had seizures in his life but now? That event had changed his brain.

It was another month and a half before Bruce let him back out on duty. And still another 3 before he was allowed to solo.

Tim occasionally could feel the seizure’s coming on but only rarely, But the days went on and years passed.

Tim never forgot those words. He prayed that remembering that fearful night would never amount to anything.

Original Post and ao3 links:

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lily-drake · 1 year

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The Birds Baby Bug

Chapter 1

TW: Mention of attempted suicide

Ao3

Marinette: 10 Tim: 19

The halls were a blur as she ran past them as quickly as she could on her shaky legs. All of them seemed to blend together, though some of the doors turned into different colors signifying what their purpose was supposed to be. Her door was red and yellow. Her door, and so many others’, was a curse she had finally been able to break free from. She swallowed the bile that climbed up her throat when she thought of the things they did to her behind those doors. The needles, the scent of bleach, and…no! She couldn’t think about that now. She needed to run, run, RUN! She could feel the magic that flowed through her, it wanted to escape, to be used, but she shoved it down. The entire reason she was here was because of the magic, the curse that flowed through her very blood. Blood they constantly took and took and took from her.

Her body was weak, she didn’t know where she was going or how she had even gotten this far. She was hungry, her limbs ached , her head pounded in time with her racing heart, but she wouldn’t slow down. If she dared to stop moving for even a second she might as well have signed her own death certificate. Her dark unkempt hair flew behind her, falling into her wild blue eyes before whipping back when she turned a corner.

She needed to escape. She needed to get out. She knows that if she’s caught that she won’t be killed, she knows that she will wish that they had killed her by the end of the punishment. She quickly took another corner, bare feet pounding against the cold stone floor, yet they still barely made a sound. She could feel the spark of her magic at her fingertips, begging to be released as adrenaline pulsed through her system, feeding the spark. But she couldn’t. She didn’t know what would happen if she let even the smallest speck loose.

It didn’t matter though, because as she took the corner she bowled into someone knocking both of them over due to her velocity. Her body ached from both the force of the fall and the magic that crawled at her skin like ants, fighting to be released. She tried to push herself up, tried to move so that she could get her former momentum back, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t hear the footsteps, but she felt their presence, could hear the breath of the assassins that were coming to retrieve her. She didn’t want to go back, she would rather die than go back! She could feel the outline of a sheathed knife pressing into her side, so with nimble fingers she grabbed it and held it to her chest, right above her heart.

She watched all of the dark shadows pause, the person behind her as still as a statue.

“I’ll do it!” She screamed almost hysterically, her hands shaking despite her best efforts. “Don’t come closer! I won’t go with you again! I won’t be used anymore!”

She kept the tip of the knife pressed to her chest, the small, sharp point nearly breaking her skin. Her breathing was quick as she stared around the circle of ninjas. The man in the green cape, she had never learned his name, was nowhere in sight. She could feel one of the men cloaked like shadows step forward. He continued to creep closer, and closer, and with all of the nerve she could muster she lifted the small blade and thrust it towards her chest.

Hope, excitement danced in her mind, at last this torment was about to come to an end. But it was swiped away as the man she had forgotten that she was still sitting atop of rolled over and pinned her to the floor. Shock filled her before she realized what was happening and tears fell down her cheeks. The pulsing thrum of her magic burned, it burned so badly she felt like she was set ablaze, she hoped that it would kill her from its intensity alone. But it didn’t. The eyes that looked down at her were wide and frantic, filled with fear and a deep sadness. She hated it.

“Leave, I’ll take care of this.”

She wanted to roll her eyes, but she could feel the shadows creep away on their silent feet, following his command. The man stared at her a few moments longer before sitting up, legs still straddled around her waist.

“I’m going to get off you now. I don’t know who you are or what they are after you for, but please don’t run.”

Marinette glared at him, if she had any moisture left in her mouth she would spit at him, but the rest of her moisture left when her tears had fallen. His warning didn’t matter though, she doubted that she even had the strength to move. After a few moments she felt the weight begin to lift and despite every nerve, every thought telling her to run , she couldn’t push herself up.

When the boy was fully off of her she nearly breathed a sigh of relief as the agonizing pain slowly began to recede. The man—no, a boy—stared at her with wide, concerned eyes, though she could see his curiosity as bright as day (she hadn’t seen the sun in so long…). He tilted his head slightly, which created the perfect angle for her to truly see his face in the torchlight.

He had hair dark as night, eyes as blue as the sky, and skin as pale as clouds on a summer day. At least, that’s what she thought as she hadn’t seen the night in probably years…

“Hey, a’e ‘u ok’y?”

Everything was starting to blur together, his voice fading in and out as her body shut down. Not again, please not again! She needed to get up, she needed to get out of here once and for all. Even if they were telling the truth when they said they killed her family, that there was a tracker in her blood, chemicals running through her that would cause her death if she ever tried to escape by herself.

Her body was heavy as it laid across the stone floor, the man’s desperate gaze never leaving her. She thought he might be trying to talk to her, but her ears were ringing too loudly for her to hear everything. Each blink grew heavier and heavier until it all went dark. The last of her control on her magic slipped and she could feel it flow out of her like a fast running stream. Then everything went dark.

_______ Tim stared at the small girl in both shock and horror. Quickly he went to check her pulse point and was relieved when he felt her pulse. It was slower than was normal, but not deathly so. Once he had made sure that she was truly okay, he studied the small girl to see if he could find any clues for who she could be.

She had long dark dark hair covered in tangles and knots like it hadn’t been brushed in years. Her skin was pale, paler than his (and that was saying something), he couldn’t see her eyes but he was pretty sure from his brief glances that they were some shade of blue. She was wearing a typical dark blue hospital gown that went just above her ankles. The gown itself was large and flowy making it hard for him to see her rib cage without having to touch her. Her skin was littered with small red dots as if she had been stuck with multiple needles. Each of the dots were at different stages of healing making him wonder how long she had been here. With the utmost gentleness he picked up her wrist and noticed the large cuff-like bruises that wrapped around her wrists; a light purple with specks of greens and yellows. They had barely begun to heal. When he laid a gentle hand against her ribs he nearly pulled back as he could feel her ribs even through the thin fabric. Tim was going to be sick.

The girl could be older than 8, but depending on how long she’s been here her growth could have stunted placing her at maybe 10 or 11.

He kept his hand against her chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest, but there was something else. She was hot, burning even. It was unnatural, wrong. A tingly sensation crept up through his arm and Tim quickly shot his hand back, holding it close to his chest. He could feel an invisible energy moving along his body easing his tense and sore body, then there was a pain in the right side of his body. He held back the panicked and pain filled noises that threatened to escape his throat. Maybe there was a reason the other leaguers were after her, maybe he should have let one of them stay.

The pain only lasted for a minute at most, and then it was gone. And he didn’t just mean the sudden pain in his abdomen, but all of the physical aches and pains he had received from his training and missions. In fact, it felt like something internally was different. He glanced at the small child, still asleep, before he carefully lifted his shirt to look at his chest. All of his scars were…gone. Every single one of the scars he had ever received throughout his life, even the cut from his splenectomy, were completely erased from existence.

He looked back at the unconscious girl, so small yet seemingly filled with a large power. She was a meta, and it looked like she had some sort of healing power. Tim wondered why until he remembered the Lazarus Pit and its side effects. Ra’s owns the pits; but if he could find a person, or rather a power, that could heal him without the pit and its side effects, he would do anything to extract it for himself.

The best thing for him to do would be to take and hide her in his room, then come up with some sort of extraction plan while Ra’s was still gone. But if Ra’s were to find out that he stole one of his “prizes” he would stop helping Tim; which would make it 10x harder to destroy The League of Assassins from the inside out.

Tim glanced down at the small unconscious child, body littered in scars of her own, none healed despite what just happened. Bruce’s face flashed in the front of his mind, and he knew that Bruce would never forgive him—nor would he forgive himself—if he didn’t help this child right away.

Tim took a steadying breath, and carefully picked the small girl up. He expected for there to be something else, something to what he had just experienced. But there was nothing; in fact the only thing that happened was she subconsciously leaned against him. His heart melted, a protective surge running through him as he hugged the small girl closer. He could feel each and everyone of her ribs against his sternum, her face hallowed out with dark circles he hadn’t noticed before under her eyes. She looked dead, but she was breathing, and that’s all that mattered. At least that’s what he kept repeating to himself. He just needed to get to his room, request extra food and water, then he’ll come up with a plan. He just needed to get her to his room first.

_______ Tim didn’t have a plan. The girl was still asleep, tucked into his bed barely moving. Tim was currently hacking through firewall after firewall to discover where Ra’s kept his files on the child. Ra’s might be old-fashioned with his methods—he definitely had a paper file somewhere—but he also knew that the man knew when he needed to adapt. After hours of hacking, the child still asleep, he finally broke through the correct wall and was honestly surprised at the amount of information that began to download to his laptop.

Marinette Gina Dupain-Cheng (Test Subject E131):

Immediately, the name set off an alarm bell in the back of his mind, though he wasn’t sure why yet.

Meta Gene: Confirmed Age: 7 Sex: Female Parents: Deceased Power: Life & Creation Trigger: Currently Unknown

Test #1 Conducted June 6, 2016 18:35

This was three years ago. Another alarm bell, and a shiver down his spine at the implications.

Before the test began one sample of 5 mL of blood was extracted as the control group while E131 was asleep. The subject had a heart monitor attached at the pulse point at the right bicep. Average vital patterns ranged from 86-98 BPM. When they awoke, tests immediately began. This test was specifically focused on narrowing out and separating the Meta Gene for further observation. Past observations of the subject have shown that they hold the power to revive dying and even completely dead plant life, even renewing the soil life.

Subject E131 was locked in a 80cmx80cm room with no restraints and in the same clothes they arrived in. Subject awoke at 18:53 alarmed, vitals immediately spiked up to an average of 110-120 BPM. Subject immediately began to call for their parents for two minutes and twenty-five seconds. During this time E131 began to cry hysterically, no change to the BPM.

Tim paused his reading, he needed to take a breath. This was wrong, this was all so wrong. She’s just a child, she was seven when all of this began. But he needed to keep going, he needed to know what had happened so that he could properly help her.

When it appeared that her BPM was going down, it was decided that at 18:58 there would be another blood draw while the subject was conscious. When medical entered the room, subjects BPM spiked once more. Subject tried to evade medical, including fighting back when restrained, spiking the BPM to 115-135. Another 5 mL of blood was taken before the subject was left alone.

Blood work:

Blood Type: A+ Meta Gene: Dominant Resting Systolic Blood Pressure Average: 93 Resting Diastolic Blood Pressure Average: 76 Stressed Systolic Blood Pressure Average: 127 Stressed Systolic Blood Pressure Average: 86

Analysis:

It was found that when the subject was asleep the gene was left neutral, floating through the bloodstream and helping the cells in the body reproduce and remain healthy. The blood that was taken when Subject E131 was on high alert showed a higher amount of the gene being produced, as though protecting the host. .05 mL of blood from each vial were placed in the soil of two different pots, both with the same dead plant and soil. The plant with resting blood revived in 30 minutes while the plant with the stressed blood revived in 15 minutes. It begs the question, what else can E131’s blood revive, what are the side effects, what triggers their power, and how fast can we make the revival become?

Tim felt sick. Three years, she had gone through this for three. Years. But he had to know more, he needed to know what exactly he needed to do to get back at Ra’s for these horrors.

Marinette Gina Dupain-Cheng (Test Subject E131): Meta Gene: Confirmed Age: 8 Sex: Female Parents: Deceased Power: Life & Creation Trigger: Emotion Based

Test #96 Conducted December 25, 2017 14:15

Subject E131 no longer has the same emotional reaction to the video of her parents death. Where once they would fly into a fit of rage and sorrow, creating life out of seemingly nothing; they remain numb and limp. Today we will try something new. Something more advanced now that we see the subject's basic capabilities.

Subject was placed in a room full of small animals ranging from chicks, to rabbits, and a small tabby kitten. The subject was slow to trust the animals, but after nearly thirty minutes of nothing happening, they began to play with the animals. It was agreed upon that the subject be allowed to spend time with the animals for three hours. While the subject was in a state of bliss, blood was pulled from E131 from the automatic needle attached to their bicep. Subject showed no reaction to the extraction.

Once the three hours ended, all animals were killed right in front of E131. Subject had the intended reaction as they began to scream and cry, emotions spiking into a high. Leaguer, who was heavily injured in battle, was sent into the room while E131 was at the peak of their emotional state. When the Leaguer exited the room five minutes late, they were completely healed¹ .

Analysis:

We have taken the blood samples from the two emotional peaks and added them into two different samples of the pit before using the pit and blood concoction on two dead rabbits of the same height and weight. The rabbit with the distressed blood sample created a single heartbeat in the dead rabbit before it flatlines once more while the one where the subject was happy created no signs of life. The hypothesis was that the subject's heart rate did not reach the same peaks as the fear sample. More tests will be conducted around this.

*Footnote¹ Leaguer was put under observation for two months with biweekly check-ups. There were no harmful side effects, but the Leaguer seemed to have a higher pain tolerance and faster healing process for a short period of time.

Tim read and read and read through each and every report. Electrocution, starvation, hypnosis, forced to watch death, etc.

Test #254 Conducted April 2, 2018 14:15

Subject was so distressed that a dead animal that was hidden in the corner was revived from the dead. …Sample showed the highest positive effects in removing pit side effects.

Test #317 Conducted July 13, 2019 01:15

Age: 10

This was last week.

Subject has been shown to wield more promising results in a dream-like state. 10 mL of Fear Gas obtained from Scarecrow from Gotham, New Jersey USA was used on the subject. Emotional response was not as high as it was as high as it was in Test #315 despite a higher amount of gas being released. Subject attempted to stab herself with an imaginary knife. …Blood from peak emotional outburst was able to revive a dead rabbit with no help from the Lazarus Pit. Subject E131 will have their blood extracted and placed into the Lazarus Pits in two weeks time. The next and final test will see if emotional outburst will be able to revive a human from the dead without blood sample or Lazarus help.

Tears streamed down Tim’s cheeks in a never ending stream. How-how was anybody this heartless, this cruel? How was she still alive?! Tim turned to look at the small child only to see them staring right back at him.

“Hey.” Tim whispered, his voice cracking slightly. He didn’t care though, what mattered was making sure that he saved this small child and made sure that Ra’s would never be able to get his disgusting hands on her ever again. The child didn’t speak, only watched him with wide, fear filled eyes.

“Are you thirsty? I had some food and water brought up for when you woke up.” The only reaction he got was her pulling the covers closer to her chest. Slowly Tim stood up, telegraphing each of his movements as he approached the dresser next to the bed where the food and water were located. “Do you want me to try it first?”

Hesitantly she nodded. Tim gave her a small encouraging smile before he took a large sip of the water and swallowed it. He waited a few minutes for her to see that there were no side effects from it before slowly placing it back on the dresser for her to take by herself. Then he picked up the food, which consisted of rice and beans with a little bit of some sort of meat, and mixed it together before getting a bit of everything on his fork and taking another large bite. Once again they waited about five minutes before he set the plate back on the dresser and he took a few steps back.

He watched her eat, she appeared almost ravenous, so much so he had to remind her to slow down a few times worried that she’d choke. Tim’s heart ached with the fierce want, no need to protect this small vulnerable child. He was 19, he could legally adopt her, especially since the League had taken both of her parents, meaning she was an orphan. But he was getting ahead of himself, before he could even plan giving her a new life, a life that she deserved, he needed to find a way to get her out of here without being on the receiving end of Ra’s rage.

“More?” She whispered. Her voice was cracked, brittle sounding. It broke his heart, and he prayed to whatever God existed that the damage could be repaired.

“I can’t get you any more food right now. You're too malnourished, and if I give you more than that you could get really sick. I can get you another cup of water though, but that will have to do so we don’t accidentally cause your electrolytes to crash.”

The small girl nodded as if she understood him, but he didn’t think she fully did, after all she still only had the schooling of a first or second grader. There weren’t any files that showed they had tried to school her after all.

“Wh-”, she fell into a coughing fit, and it took everything inside of Tim to stop him from rushing to her side. “What’s your name?” She croaked out. Blue eyes dull and full of pain.

“I’m Tim.” He whispered, trying to encourage her to do the same so she didn’t hurt her voice anymore.

“Why are you here?” She whispered back. That small gesture eased some of the weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying.

“I’m trying to find my dad, and they’re offering me help. How did you know I wasn’t one of the ninjas?” He asked softly, making his voice only sound curious.

She pointed to her face before replying, “No mask, different robes, and y-you talk to me.”

Marinette fell into another coughing fit after that, her skin looking even paler than when he had first found her. Tim clenched his fist against his knees as he was seated on the floor. Was this what Bruce felt when he saw Dick and Jason? This overwhelming need to protect such a small child when so much bad has already consumed their life? Did Bruce ever feel this way about him?

“What’s your name?” He asked, he didn’t need her knowing that he knew about the worst years of her life.

“E-...No, that wasn’t…Ma-Marientte. Mama always called me Marinette.”

Tim now understood why Jason did what he did. He wanted to kill these Ba*, but more than that he wanted them to feel the same agony they made her feel first. Then suddenly a face flashed before his eyes followed by a name, and hours and hours of research that lead to a dead end. A Paris cold case he had stumbled upon a few years ago when he was checking in on the city where he received a good portion of his training.

Marinette Gina Dupain-Cheng, presumed dead as her parents and grandmother were brutally murdered by an unknown person for unknown reasons. Only problem was, they had never found Marinette’s body. But he had, and she was still alive .

“I’m going to get you out of here.” He whispered, shocking the young girl as her eyes seemed to grow as wide as saucers.

“I’m going to get you to safety and you’ll never have to worry about whether or not you’ll be another experiment again. I’m sorry it took me this long to find you,” Tears began to well in his eyes. If only he’d been smarter, there had to have been something that pointed to the League that he had overlooked. Bruce would be so disappointed in him, Ra’s was probably laughing his a* off. “I’ll take care of you. I will protect you. I won’t let them hurt you ever again.”

She just stared at him, face blank and passive. It was as if she were seeing something that he simply could not. Then tears spilled from her eyes and Tim couldn’t restrain himself as he moved closer to the small child, but never touching her. But it didn’t matter because she launched herself at him, holding onto his shirt in a vice-like grip. Tim quickly wrapped his arms around her, letting her cry. Tears fell out of his own eyes.

“...You talk to me.”

When was the last time she had heard anyone but herself, felt a touch from another person that wasn’t cruel or fake, treated as a human being. He thought back to his own empty house. The cold haunted rooms that echoed with nothing but the ghost of a 9-year-old boy that wasn’t even living. Parents that only cared about him when he messed up, only touched in public or as a warning.

“You’re safe now. I promise it.” He whispered, holding the girl as close as he dared in fear of injuring her further. He would protect her, be the guardian that Bruce was for Jason and Dick. The shadow that haunts the dreams of those who dare hurt what was his. Marinette Drake had a nice ring to it, but only if she too agrees. Jason’s never going to let him live this down. It would be worth it though, because she would be safe.

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