Ch. 3 Hysteria

Ch. 3 Hysteria

Chapter 3 of Dead men's Deals, courtesy of the DPxDC ship week! Day 1? Arranged marriages ofc ;). I thought it was a little ironic that I started this just before this was announced, but here we are!

Here's; [Ao3], [ch. 1 & prompt], [ch. 2]

The rest of Damian's patrol was maddeningly quiet, which of course meant that he had to run around with his siblings incessant prattling along the comm line. It seemed as though his half an hour of silence had caused quite the stir, and Richard was halfway to Gotham thanks to his silence.

  Joy.

  “Robin, you can’t be mad at me for worrying after you went quiet.” Richard huffed into the comm over the wind. “Forty-five minutes is a long time, and things could happen.”

  “I am fine, Nightwing. As I stated previously, an informant approached me about a private case that needed my attention. I did not realize he had a signal jammer on his person until he had left.” Damian snapped back as he reached the cave, pushing down most of his ire at his siblings' insistent mother-henning. He did not like being coddled when he was young, and he certainly did not like being coddled as an adult, it was demeaning to his skills.

  “You’re still getting checked for mental manipulation, Dami,” Timothy called from behind him, peeling his mask off and pushing his hair from his face. “No amount of treats will get you out of it tonight. Better safe than sorry, right?”

  And Damian wanted to argue, he really did. But then he remembered and felt that strange energy now nestled snugly in his chest next to his heart. It was cold, but not overly so. When he was not focusing on it he could almost make himself believe that that whole interaction was a hallucination, a figment of his overly stressed subconscious acting out to help him destress from something he couldn’t control. But then he would think about it again, and that cold something would move, reminding him that this was his reality.

  Something in him whispered about the absurdity of his life, another replied that this wasn’t even the strangest thing he’d experienced.

  “Fine, Drake. I’ll subject myself to your pointless tests, but only after I remove my gear.” Timothy almost looked surprised at how easily Damian agreed to the tests, he didn't know how easily he had swayed to please the being he had met now mere hours ago. How easily he wished to comply with the sense of trust that wasn’t his own. He felt it would be necessary to comply with the routine, no matter how tedious it was.

  They both made their way to the changerooms in silence after that, Timothy most likely deep in thought as to whether Damian’s new agreeableness was something to be celebrated or feared and Damian finally starting to tire after needlessly pushing himself for the first part of his patrol.

  It was reckless, now that the weight of so many uncertainties wasn’t nipping at the back of his mind like some sort of rabid animal. To exert himself in an attempt to outrun what he couldn’t control was pointless, and now he was paying the price for it in lead lined limbs. Nothing he needed to worry his siblings over, of course, that would only make him more suspicious. But he was finding the prospect of his soft, encompassing bed very inviting at this point.

  Damian had already taken his mask and cape off, and shucked one glove into his locker before he froze, thumb hooked under the lip of his remaining left glove.

  The mark.

  It would be visible to everyone once he took his glove off. Then he would need to explain Danny and the contract and the letter from his mother and then he would have to withstand Richards' whining. He could not let anyone see the mark.

  “Damian? You okay?” Timothy looked over, noticing his hesitancy and that he was still mostly in uniform. He did not like to linger in the changerooms and Timothy knew that. Even with his family and the years he’d spent in the manor he felt needlessly exposed being among others in a state of undress. Usually he would be changing as quickly and efficiently as possible to avoid being needlessly exposed for longer than needed be, but now… Damian moved his hand from the glove to his suit instead, intending to keep the glove on until the last possible moment.

  “How many times must I tell you that I am fine for you to accept it, Drake?” He snapped again without the heat, his mind elsewhere. Timothy simply huffed as he pulled on an old button down, then slipped back out into the cave to wait.

  There was no longer a reason for Damian to hesitate. Not that he was hesitating. Pointless hesitation was still a weakness Damian wouldn’t tolerate from himself even now. He slipped out of the rest of his suit and pulled his sweatpants on before focusing back on his still gloved left hand.

  Slowly, he pulled it off, revealing the black snowflake with the stylized D resting just above his third knuckle and the band circling his middle finger. He stared at it, examining the minute fractals the tattoo branched into, eyes trailing the feather light lines that connected the D to the rest of the shape, turning his hand to better inspect the black ring now imprinted onto his digit.

  Danny had said he wished to annul the contract that had forced this mark onto his hand. Although Damian had threatened violence, there was no grand battle. Their interaction was brief but not unpalatable. And Danny…

  Exhaustion made his thoughts swirl through his head, making thoughts connect for a fraction of a second before breaking apart leaving him confused. Slipping his shirt on, he frowned. After all this time, he thought he was able to understand his own emotions better than this, after all this time, after all the talks he had had with his two eldest brothers. Damian had thought he would know how to feel after he had met the Lord of Death, but their interaction just left him lost.

  He hated how little control he had over the situation.

  He walked out of the changeroom toward his brother, hoping a good sleep and the answers from tomorrow night would help his tumultuous feelings.

~~~~~

      “Father,” Damian called after the head of the house as he headed to his office after breakfast. Bruce turned, one eyebrow raised in curiosity as his youngest strode to catch up.

  “What’s up, chum?” He asked as he resumed his cant, keeping pace with his son.

  “I have… Information on the private case we discussed previously,” Damian confessed. His father raised an eyebrow at his words, confused.

  "The letter, father," he pressed, unconsciously clenching his left hand into a fist.

  His eyes widened in realization before the mask of the Bat settled on his father's face, expression hard and calculative. He nodded, then ever so slightly sped up his pace to the office.

  They walked in, and as soon as Bruce shut the door behind them he turned to Damian. “Did Talia send someone? Did you see her? Does it have anything to do with you comm going offline last night?”

  Damian took his place in one of the plush armchairs before replying with a heavy sigh. “Mother has not contacted me since she sent the letter father, I would have informed you otherwise and you know this.”

  Sitting down himself, Batman narrowed his eyes. “But this is related to why your comm went down last night?”

  Glancing to his hand, Damian nodded. Batman followed his gaze, but like Timothy the night previous, did not react to the black mark that now adorned Damian’s hand. It seemed, until proven otherwise at least, that no one but Damian and the Lord of Death could see their binding mark. Damian was both relieved that he didn’t need to explain the mark to his family, and frustrated that this was just one more thing he couldn’t validate were he to try.

  Huffing, Damian lifted his gaze back to his father. “I met my betrothed last night,” he stated flatly.

  Instantly tension gathered in his fathers frame, posed to react. From where Damian sat he could almost see the gears in Batman’s head working on plans and contingencies to keep his son safe from whatever monster that might wish to take him from them.

  He supposed that he wouldn’t be the only one getting shocked by his encounter.

  “Were you hurt?” Batman asked, his voice dropping to the tone he uses when asking for a mission report.

  “He did not hurt me,” he replied just as flatly as before. It was true, Danny had not harmed him in any lasting physical way. The jury is still out on any other way until tonight.

  Batman recognized all the things he didn’t say with his answer, narrowing his gaze as he studied his son. There were no doubt things he would be wanting to ask by what they meant, about how he may have harmed him in those forty-five minutes. Knowing they would get nowhere if they stayed on this topic, Damian pushed ahead, “He asked to meet again tonight so that he may explain more about our… arrangement.”

  “No,” Batman immediately states, much to Damian’s annoyance. “You aren’t going to meet a dangerous being we know nothing about.”

  “But father, he has answers,” Damian retorts emphatically. “Answers about this whole mess that Mother has dropped on us.”

  “Damian,” Batman glared at Damian, willing him to back down on this. Unfortunately, Damian has learned from his siblings to take that glare as a challenge. Neither backed down for what seemed like hours, Damian knew that if he were to look away it would be taken as a sign of weakness.

  Finally, Batman leaned back in his chair, tension slowly leaking out of his frame until only Bruce was left, sighing in only a way a tired father could. “You know I can’t let you do this alone, right?”

  Damian gave a sharp nod, “I know what risks could come with this. That is why I came to you, father, as no one else as of yet knows of my situation.”

  Bruce nodded, his expression shifting to something less tired and more thoughtful. His stance was firm about letting the rest of the family know about the contract, they were all gossip mongers and as soon as one of them knew the news would spread like wildfire. He would not be able to stop the comments from his siblings, and Richard’s planner must stay hidden at all costs now that he was staying in the manor for the near future. Cassandra might be an exception to that statement, she knew how to keep things hidden when they were important, but the rest he wouldn’t trust as far as he could throw them.

  His father would hopefully take their family's nature into account in his planning.

  “Well then, I suppose I’ll have Dick take over my patrol route for tonight,” Bruce decided with a nod. He moved to get up, but Damian stopped him.

  “Father, what do you mean?” He asked, “Why would you require Richard to take your route?”

  Bruce chuckled as he strode to the door, “Well, chum, I’d need to have him take over if I’m joining you.” And then he left, much to his son's bafflement.

~~~~~

      Flying in big cities was always something Danny could use to relax. Being so high up with all the glittering lights below him gave him a sense of peace he couldn’t get in his regular day to day life. He hadn’t really done it since coming here, what with his marriage manhunt, but now that Danny found the guy, he could finally appreciate the city for the beauty it had.

  Ignoring all the sounds of gunshots and the stench, the place really was a gothic marvel. All gray stone buildings and gargoyles; Sam would love it here.

  Of course, he did have a destination for his flight. Tonight he needed to pick his partner in magic matrimony up so that they could have a proper conversation back at his apartment. Robin… Danny wasn’t going to lie, he had a crush on the vigilante, but right now voiding the contract was more important than trying to get to know the guy.

  The sun had set a few hours ago by now, prime time for the criminals to skitter out of their hiding places and the vigilantes to start herding them like cats playing with their prey. Perfect hours to go and get his birdy.

  Danny followed the pull at his core as he flew invisibly through the city, trying to remember what he had looked up throughout the day. The city’s vigilantes were something of a band of cryptids, as Danny found out. Seen when needed, but mysterious enough that no one could land any solid information about them. Even the knowledge people had on them was speculative at best, and any concrete evidence was locked behind a firewall so strong it would make Technus and Tucker both drool.

  He couldn’t find much on Robin, other than the odd theory thread talking about how many different kids might have taken up the mantle before the most recent one. Saying that it would've had to have been different kids because they all had different fighting styles, there were periods of time in between sightings sometimes where people think the kids have switched, and that their heights and ages had stayed relatively the same until the latest one.

  The latest one has apparently been around the longest, but out of the supposed others he’s the least well liked. Danny figured that was probably due to the whole ‘assassin family’ thing so he wasn’t about to argue. His own amazing media coverage gave him a better understanding of how people liked to portray people who did things differently. From what he noticed last night the guy was rough, sure, but he did his job and did it well, so what if the criminals got a few extra scrapes?

  This Robin has been around for a while now, and has actually aged. He was probably around the same age as Danny… hopefully. Ancients, he really hoped he wasn’t secretly a lot older or younger than him, that would be really awkward.

  Danny had to shake himself of his thoughts as the pull on his core grew stronger, telling him he was near his… mate? Ancients no, that was gross. His fiancé? That's closer, but it's not like he and Robin wanted this. Partner in a magically binding contract? Partner might be simplest in this case.

  He was coming up to the roof his partner was standing on, talking with someone over the comm in his ear.

  Hm…

  Danny really shouldn’t try to piss the guy off more than he probably already has, but what was a ghost king if he didn’t pull a prank every now and again? Really, Robin was in the perfect position for a harmless prank, where he knew what Danny was but wasn’t desensitized to his antics.

  Mind made up, Danny descended to the rooftop below with an unseen cheshire grin.

~~~~~

      Damian was in the middle of explaining what had happened on his last patrol in length to Batman when his comm gave out in a hiss of static. He hastily yanked it from his ear, wondering irately how he hadn’t noticed the disruption the first time he had met the Lord of Death. Scanning the rooftop around him, he narrowed his gaze as he realized there was no one else here.

  Except there was.

  The cold thing in the center of his chest was reacting to something, writhing in its space and giving off more feelings that weren’t his. They were weak, giving him ample ability to resist succumbing to them, but that it was giving off anything at all meant one thing; the Lord of Death was close.

  A breath of frost across the back of his neck had him spinning, birdarang in hand. There was no one behind him. A whisper of a chuckle form his left and he was repositioning, searching the shadows for any presence. Nothing. He kept his stance for a few moments longer, seeing nothing but feeling a chill crawl up his spine.

  “Boo.”

  Damian spun, throwing the birdarang in the direction of the voice as he rolled to avoid whatever possible attack might happen in that second. The birdarang clanged against an air conditioning unit and stuck, its target missed completely.

  Or so he thought, until a laugh echoed out from a few feet in front of him.

  The Lord of Death melted into view, clutching his stomach as he curled in on himself in laughter.

  “Oh- oh my Ancients!” He wheezed through gasps. “You should’ve seen your face. Oh man,” his laughter started dying out as he uncurled, wiping a fake tear from his waterline with a finger. “I really needed that. How many people in this city can say they’ve surprised one of the Bats?”

  “That was unnecessary,” Damian sneered at the being across from him as he reluctantly dropped his stance.

  “It really wasn’t,” Danny countered, walking over to pick the discarded birdarang out of the aluminum siding of the conditioning unit. “I find it's best to have a bit of humor before you start talking about heavy topics.”

  Damian crossed his arms as Danny turned back to him. “There is nothing humorous about someone sneaking up on me only to pull such a childish prank.”

  The Lord of Death just shrugged, “Was funny for me. Anyway,” he made his way back across the roof to stand in front of Damian, his expression melting into something more muted as he started playing with the blade. “You ready to get a better picture of just how badly our ancestors screwed us over?”

  Damian canted his hips, silently asking himself if he was really going to ask this instead of just allowing his father to tail them. They had made a plan; Damian would go with the Lord while Batman followed behind, and should something happen to Damian he would whistle to alert his father who would then race to aid him.

  Only, with a better view of Danny’s disappearance and subsequent reappearance, he had to wonder how well their plan would work. Were Danny to disappear with him, there would be little chance for his father to find them, since the signal jammer that killed his comm had also killed his tracker upon review. Would he either ask an embarrassing question, or risk needless danger? The answer was easy.

  “I have a condition for going with you,” Damian asserted, to the Lord’s curiosity.

  “Oh?”

  “I wish to bring someone along with us, so I am not being led into a trap alone.” The offer was simple, yet Damian still prepared himself in case the being before him did not like what was given.

  The Lord of Death nodded thoughtfully, to Damian’s utter confusion. “Yeah, that’s totally valid reasoning.” Danny conceded, “I don’t mind if you bring someone. It's the person on the other roof, right?”

  What?

  Danny turned to face the adjacent building on which Batman had chosen to keep watch of their interaction, though he was out of sight. How was he able to tell where Father had hidden himself?

  Damian resisted a sigh as he watched the other wave where he approximated his father was, hidden in the shadow of the taller office building on the other side. There were no differences in the shadows from where he stood, and Danny wasn’t in any better position to see. It must be another ability of his, he supposed, as Danny turned back to him.

  “You wanna call them over then?” Danny asked him innocently, as though he hadn’t just given Damian permission for backup to face a potentially extremely dangerous situation. This man was truly either brave or foolish.

  Still, with a curt nod Damian whistled thrice, once long and two short; their signal for regrouping. Even with Father not expecting the change in plans it took no time for him to appear out of the shadows and join them on the roof. Damian watched as Danny tracked his father's path, never failing or backtracking to re-catch sight of the Dark Knight amongst the pitch black.

  “Robin,” Batman intoned as he came upon them, keeping his gaze on target as he asked his not-question. Damian just cocked his head to the side in a silent ‘well?’ to their mysterious informant, breaking him out of the near awed stare he dawned upon seeing his father in the light.

  Danny cleared his throat before giving a smile. “Well, since your wish has been fulfilled you think we could get going now?” He crooked his thumb over his shoulder, “We’re burning moonlight afterall…”

  Damian rolled his eyes behind his mask but nodded, preparing himself for the journey by shifting his feet, getting ready to run. Only, as soon as he got confrontation the Lord of Death’s smile grew impossibly wide and lunged, grabbing onto both vigilantes with deceptively strong hands and pulling them with him into a swirling green tear. Neither could free themselves in time, and so they fell in after the Lord of Death.

tagged peeps: @mnemovoid