Chapter Text
POV Batman
Batman stood outside of his son's room.
Well, more like Bruce Wayne. The face behind the cowl that now sat on the back of his neck. He stared at the door quietly, contemplating. Listening. He knows his youngest son is in there. It was hard to ignore the crack of the light that shined beneath the door. But the boy made no sound. Bruce debating on how he should speak with the young boy. Damian Wayne may be his youngest child, but he was also his hardest to handle.
Bruce helped raise many children now. One would imagine he would have this parenting thing down better than most. Unfortunately, that was not the case. Especially when it came to the youngest.
Bruce never thought that he would have a biological child. Not until Damian Wayne showed up into his life suddenly.
It was a fling. Something that he hadn't anticipated, but when thinking back on it, he knew he should've. At one point in time he did imagine how nice it would be to be with the daughter of Ra's Al Ghul. Talia. A gorgeous woman with a coldness that Bruce doesn't remember he ever having. He should have watched his drinks. He should have paid more attention. By the time he realized he felt weird, and that the world seemed harder to focus on, it was already too late.
For Talia stole something from him that Bruce never imagine he needed protecting.
And now, it had produced him a son.
His son.
Not adopted. Not fostered. His actual biological son, who loved to remind everyone of the blood relation. As if it had sway over everyone else. A thing that Bruce had never really cared about himself. His children were his children, biological or not. He loved them all. Truly, he did. But, that same love gave him fear.
Fear of them turning out wrong. Fear of losing them in this war he wages every night. Fear that he will lose everyone he cares about, like that faithful night in the alleyway from the movie theater. Like how the Joker had stolen his children and tormented them. How he successful killed one of them.
It frightened Bruce.
It truly did.
It made it hard for him navigate his relationships with all of them. Some felt easier than others, even though at times it can be rocky for either side. But when it came to Damian, even after all this time, Bruce still felt like he had a hard time understanding him. The boy was raised in secret most of his life under the League of Assassin's training. Under the guide of his mother, Talia. When he showed up to them that night, demanding for the Robin mantle and to be at Batman's side, Bruce didn't know what to think.
He just didn't want the young boy to kill anyone.
Bruce understands that it's hard for him. That training. His instinct to lash out an attack first, and to not ask questions. Damian has gotten better with time. Thanks to his eldest son, Dick. Who really spent most of the time with Damian to change him. He's been with them for over two years now. Damian has learned to be better. Bruce has also learned how to navigate trying to bond with the boy. But, some days are worse than others, and it feels like they're back to square one with him.
"I know you're there, Father."
Bruce felt his shoulders tense, surprised that Damian would make the first move. Usually it was always Bruce who made it. There was no mistaking the clipped tone in his voice, showing the agitation he was still feeling from before. But Damian was addressing him. That, in itself, was a start.
"Will you be camping outside of my door all night, or can I sleep?" Damian called, annoyance still there.
Always so formal in the most brash way. They still have such a long way to go with him, Bruce decided as he reached for the door handle. He turned it carefully, cautiously, and opened the door. He didn't fully step inside. Instead he only partially let himself in, still allowing the chance for Damian to tell him no.
It was Alfred who taught Bruce to be patient with the boy. They had come so far in him being better than he was. Bruce didn't want to ruin it now.
As always, Damian's room was very neat and orderly. Never an item out of place. The desk against the wall, chair pushed in. Closed books and sketchbooks laid on top, but their contents hidden from sight. Swords resting mounted on the walls. Not for decoration. Never decoration, when it came to Damian. And his bed, that the young boy sat in now, barely even looked wrinkled. Like there was barely anyone living in this room. As if it was a guest room instead of the young boy's actual room.
The young boy, who was unquestionably Bruce's child, stared at him with narrowed eyes that revealed his annoyance. Green eyes, that almost felt unnaturally green, was clearly his mother's eyes. Skin tanned, just like hers. Even his nose was like his mother's, with that little arch on the bridge of it, but ended like Bruce's. His hair still dark and messy from patrol. Brows just like Bruce's. His cheeks still rounded with a bit of baby fat. He had yet to fully grow into his jaw, and for his cheeks to slim out.
Still so young. Yet far too mature for a child his age to be.
It was always something Bruce had to remind himself. That Damian was a child. Still brash. Still reckless. Still impressionable. It was Alfred and Dick who reminded Bruce that Damian could change. That there was still a chance for him to put down the cruel ways of the League. But still, Bruce had to keep reminding himself of it. Like his mind had a hard time accepting it, as much as he wished to believe their words.
"…I wanted to talk to you about earlier," Bruce spoke finally.
Damian looked away from him, almost an eye roll, and clicked his tongue in that habit of his. A habit so ingrained by the Al Ghul's that Bruce had to remind himself patience. Damian was out of the Robin mantle, and instead in his pajamas. Even they looked barely wrinkled. Barely worn. Honestly, Bruce should probably blame himself for that matter instead of anyone else.
"I don't." Damian stated bluntly, arms crossing against his chest as his eyes were to the window instead of his father. "I have nothing to say about the matter."
Bruce could only sigh slightly through his nose. He had a hard time wondering if the stubbornness came from Talia or him. He was sure both of them were to be blamed for it. Bruce finally stepped more into the room, gently closing the door behind him. A chance for him and Damian to be alone. One that he silently hoped they didn't get interrupted.
"That's fine," Bruce said. "I'll just do the talking, and you can listen. Sound fair enough to you?"
There was that pause. The one that always seemed to find it's way between them.
Bruce gazed at Damian, staring at the back of his head. Seeing that the boy wasn't going to turn and face him, Bruce took it upon himself to go to the boy's study. He took the wooden chair carefully and brought it closer. Having it face him, he sat down. Trying to be leveled with the boy, but didn't want to invade his space by sitting on his bed. So the chair he sat, Batman costume still worn, as he tried to be leveled with his son.
"…I want to address you storming out of the Batcave tonight," Bruce spoke calmly. Leveled. Hoping he could reach his son somehow. "I know bringing Y/N here wasn't what we would normally do. I know it frustrates you, the changing of the rules. But, this situation they're in. It's not by any normal means. It's better for us to get a handle on them instead of letting them wander the streets and risk harming themselves or others."
"Why is it our responsibility?" Damian snapped. Bruce tried not to show how taken aback he was by it. How Damian still refused to look at him, but was now glaring at the wall across from the end of his bed. "It's Todd's fault for bringing them here. He should be the one staying here with them, or taking them away from here. He should have never brought them here."
Bruce waited for Damian's words to end. A pause taking between them. He could see the anger in the young boy's eyes. Glaring. A fierceness that a young boy his age shouldn't have. But he did. And, after taking in his words, Bruce knew he had to address it.
"…Jason doesn't have the tools we have." Bruce stated calmly. "If this was the Jason we were handling a year ago, he would have handled it himself. He never would have reached out to us. The fact that he did, and he willingly allowed us a chance to help, shows how much Jason has improved in letting us help. Not only as Batman, not only as Robin, but as a family."
Damian clicked his tongue again. Bruce guessed that maybe that was the wrong words for him to use.
"…You did the scans. You have their information, yes?" Damian said, only finally daring to look back at Bruce now. He tried not to stiffen, he tried now to flinch. Tried not to show how much that glare bothered him. "Then why are they still here? We should've rid ourselves of them and let Todd deal with it! Or better yet, the GCPD! Like we always do! Is that not what you taught us?!"
The boy had a point. Bruce did teach them that. That civilians they met should be handled by the GCPD. That they should comfort them to an extent. To care for them, but to not let any of them get too close. Care at an arm's distance. After all, Bruce still hadn't revealed to any of them that the child begged him not to be given to the police. That they said not to trust them. A thing that was still troubling Bruce as they speak.
"…This situation is different," Bruce tried to explain. "They're an undocumented situation. Plus, it's not as straight forward as that. We still don't know much about their powers. Where they came from, who they ever are—we are still trying to figure that all out."
Damian's eyes narrowed, finally looking at his father head on. "…How long are they staying here?"
Bruce tried not to raise a brow at the question. Was he bothered that someone his age was here? Did it bother him the idea of someone his age staying here for a time? Realistically, Bruce knew he couldn't say for sure. Until Oracle can decrypt the errors in the system, and until they maybe get some answers from the child themselves, he had no way of knowing what they will do with them afterwards.
"…I don't know how long they will be staying with us," Bruce stated. Deciding honesty would be best with his son. "Long enough for us to figure out who they are and what they can do. How long that will take, I don't know. But, I've reached out to a few people to help us figure it out. Hopefully they can help us figure it out sooner rather than later."
"-TT-" Again, that tongue click of his. Damian's eyes looked away from Bruce, arms still so firmly crossed. "We should rid ourselves of them and be done with it…"
Bruce couldn't help but narrow his eyes. "Damian, that's not what we do. They need our help."
"Right, like every child out there needs our help," Damian spoke coldly as he turned his head back to glare at his father. "It is a waste of our time and resources. If we go out helping every child we ever met, we wouldn't be able to ever get anything done!"
"Damian, what is this—" Bruce began to ask, but the young boy cut him off.
"I don't see the point of you taking in so many children!" Damian exclaimed, his hands finally throwing into the air as he began ranting. "All these fakes in your care when you have me! Your blood son! Does this manor truly need anymore children to fill it's halls?! Soon this house will be called the Gotham Orphanage than the actual ones we have!"
Ah, Bruce thought. Finally nailing the final nail to the coffin as to why Damian was so upset with the child in the cave. He didn't interrupt him just yet. He allowed him to speak. Knowing that letting him air out his frustrations should make him feel better. Not matter how much they sounded ridiculous in Bruce's mind.
"Yes, we should mitigate as many problems and future problems as possible," Damian continued on, not realizing he was ranting and waving his hands in the air. "However! Letting every child in we come across will jeopardize the whole mission! At this rate it's a miracle that our secret identities have remained a secret so far! Who's to say that we can even trust this child to not reveal our secrets? We should have kept Pennyworth upstairs and a secret. Or given him a secret name! Something to not let them know who we are!"
Bruce couldn't help but raise a brow at his son finally. "Like how you let slip Tim's name?"
Damian looked ready to continue, mouth ajar and open, a small sound escaping as he was prepared to continue on this rant, but quickly stopped once he registered his father's words. His mouth closed, brows scrunching together in a furrow. The crease prominent in his brow. Bruce could've sworn it was a pout as Damian realized the hypocrisy of the his own words. Bruce tried not to vocalize his amusement, and instead took this as a chance to speak.
"…We haven't shown them our identities. They still have no idea what we look like underneath our masks," Bruce said calmly, hoping to ease his son's nerves. "I am not stating that I am adopting them into our family. That is a decision that I haven't even considered. Right now, I'm more focused on looking into their abilities. Seeing how much of a threat they are to civilians, or even us. I have someone coming over who might get us sooner answers than what Oracle can decrypt with the files. Until we know more, they will stay in our care until then."
Damian stared at his father firmly before a small sigh escaped his lips. He looked away from him, hands clenched into small fists in his lap. Staring daggers into the blanket of the bed. If Bruce didn't know better, he was sure Damian would catch the cloth on fire with how hard he was staring.
"…If that's your decision, Father, then so be it." Damian murmured.
Although Bruce felt glad that Damian wasn't boiling mad, there was still a feeling as if he had failed to ease his son. A feeling that felt heavy in his chest. One that Bruce Wayne had no idea to unravel and address.
"…I'll be going back down into the Batcave to see if I can look into more," Bruce told Damian as he stood finally from the chair. With one hand he lifted it to put it back where it originally belonged. "Plus, you know how Alfred is. Once he decides he is needed, he will see it through. It's good that he's taking care of Y/N. Keeps them occupied so we can do our jobs."
Damian let out a low hum, one more so of acknowledgment than a response. Bruce made it to the door, hand on the door knob, already cracking the door open before he paused. He looked over his shoulder to Damian one last time.
"…Everyone in our family plays a crucial role," Bruce stated to him. "That includes you, Damian. We don't accept everyone in as easily as it might seem. Think of Y/N as a civilian in our care. I know they had headbutted you when they were having that nightmare, but they hadn't meant any harm. Who knows, maybe they need a friend as much as you do?"
Damian scoffed, eyes blatantly rolled as he recrossed his arms again. Pride taking hold once more. "I do not need friends. With the amount of people in this house, there's enough "companionship" to make anyone feel like they're suffocating…"
Bruce lightly smiled, allowing one to slip through for once. "Just give it some thought. Goodnight, Damian."
"…Goodnight, Father," Damian murmured.
Bruce stepped through the door finally and lightly closed it, waiting until he heard the lock take hold. He stared at it for a moment longer than necessary before pulling his cowl back over his head. He wondered about Damian as he made his way back to the cave. Wondering why he seemed so defensive of the idea of a new person joining the family. Like it threatened him personally.
It didn't make much sense to Bruce. Between Damian's words and Alfred's, even he was beginning to worry of the fact of if he had to take in another child. But he still stood by his words. He did not plan to take them in as part of the family. Plus, with still there being so much that they didn't know about them, he felt unsure of even trusting them.
Begging to not be placed into the hands of the police, and saying not to trust them. Their powers, strange as they were. Creating a barrier strong enough that bullets ricocheted like they were nothing. One that could move, and stretch in size. The fact that they refused to address most questions. How panicked they looked when Tim asked them about what they said about "disappearing." That strange black puddle that appeared under their feet when Bruce was holding them as Batman. The machine that they relied on telling them that there were errors and malfunctions when they used it.
None of it made any sense.
Not to mention the nightmare the child was having. How all of the vigilantes stood in the cave together, discussing what they would do about the child, only for them to suddenly start thrashing. The tray of cups tossed out of Alfred's hands, shattering the contents all across the floor. How it took all of them to calm the child down. How they had screamed like they were being murdered. One that had shaken them all to their bones. The noise still haunting him in the back of his mind.
Bruce needed answers.
No more questions. No more pondering and curiosities. He wanted the facts stated and a file created on this child. Where they came from, who their parents were—what status of the parents they were in. Everything. Bruce wanted to know everything before making a verdict on what to do with them.
And he knew Batman would be the one to find them.
.
.
By the time he made it back down to the Batcave, he noticed the child in a new place.
They were sat in a seat, stationed near but not directly by the Bat-computer. A new blanket now over them, to keep them warm. The cave was cold, Batman will admit. His cowl back over his head, not afraid of the child figuring out his secret identity. Alfred stood by them, hands adjusting the blanket to make sure they were covering them. Batman picked up the tail end of the conversation they were having. Alfred asking if they were still hungry, and the child very softly saying "no".
By the time Batman's feet stepped off of the last step of the stairs, the child's attention immediately turned to him. Batman couldn't help but raise a brow, mentally noting how quickly they spotted him. Most people had a hard time spotting him, especially when he came from the stairs. Seeing their attention shifted, Alfred turned his head as well. Seeing that it was Batman at the stairs, the older man straightened, and gave a bow of his head in recognition. Batman returned it, and decided to come closer.
Tim, or Red Robin, was no where to be seen anymore. The Bat-computer not showing the data they collected before. Instead, showing the map of the city. The default setting the computer went to. As Batman came closer to the two, Alfred gave his report as Batman could faintly hear his own footsteps echoing around.
"Ah, there you are, sir," Alfred addressed him. "Dear Y/N here has taken a fine shower and has finished their meal. I had also remade their bed so that they have a place to sleep tonight."
"Thank you, Alfred," Batman nodded to him. "I can see to it from here."
It didn't slip passed him how Alfred's body stiffened a bit. Something that the older man didn't do very often. It was enough to cause even Batman to pause, his attention drifting back to the man in question. Seeing at Batman stood still, Alfred came closer to him. He stood by his side, keeping his back to the child. As Alfred leaned his head in closer for him to whisper, Batman glanced at the child and noticed them holding the blanket wrapped around them just a bit tighter than before. The crease in the fabric evident under their nails.
"…Be gentle with them," Alfred advised softly, keeping his voice a whisper as to not offend. "They are very jumpy, sir. I don't know the exact details, but they have been through a lot, it would seem. I advise you take a more… delicate touch with them, sir."
Batman glanced at the child again. Their eyes bouncing around, looking to the computer then back to them. Then the new gurney that was made for them, then back to Batman and Alfred. Briefly glancing away, only to land back on them. As if trying not to show that they knew the conversation was about them, but doing a very poor job of it. It wasn't lost to Batman how the child specifically kept focusing on Alfred. It made him wonder what transpired between them in the short time he left them alone together.
"…Should I be made aware of something?" Batman asked Alfred in a matching whisper tone, wanting the older man to just tell him bluntly what was wrong.
Alfred seemed to hesitate for a second, but then finally spoke. "…They had cried earlier when I gave them food, sir. They admitted to not having something warm in months."
Batman felt his own body stiffen slowly. The words beginning to slowly bare their weight upon his shoulders. His mind briefly thought of their camping gear. Specifically the fishing hooks and fishing wire. He remembered seeing the use in the wire, showing that they were used frequently in a short amount of time. Not to mention the dulled knife. It was a sad knife, really. Dull. Clearly needed some oil and sharpening. Might be better to throw it out all together. But, clearly the child had been using it frequently. He recalled finding traces of fish DNA on the blade when they tested it, connecting back to the fishing hooks and wires. Clearly, they had frequently fishing in order to survive.
"…I don't believe they're from here, sir," Alfred added softly. "They have been on their own for some time now. Keep that in mind when you go to speak to them, yes?"
Batman looked back to the butler, taking a moment to observe his features. They way his eyes were serious, boarding into the side of his face. That stern look that used to make his freeze as a child. A warning look to watch what he was doing. He meant business.
"Of course…" Batman responded calmly, giving him a single nod.
Alfred gave him a linger look, before nodding back. He turned away, head facing the elevator, as he made it clear he was going to leave. But the older man was only able to take two steps forward before the young child called out to him, causing both adults to turn their heads and stare at them.
"Alfred…!" They called, an almost panic sound in their voice causing the two men to halt.
The older man paused, feet cementing into the floor as his body visibly jerked. He smoothly turned back in response, his eyes on the child, as both he and Batman stared at them in curiosity.
"Um…" Their nervousness was palpable. Eyes jumping around, hands fidgeting. One leg bouncing in the chair, feet off of the floor, with only their toes touching. "Can you… Um… Do you have to go…?"
Oh, what a pathetically soft voice that came from them.
Even Batman had a hard time denying the softness of it. How at first they were loud to get their attention, only to quietly recede to a softer tone as if unsure. Uncertain. Afraid they were pushing boundaries they didn't know existed. Whatever Alfred had done had clearly caused the child to seem to desperately latch onto him. That call out to him evident as day.
Even Alfred almost seemed torn. Batman could tell, in the way he took a step towards the child and paused again. His eyes landed to Batman. Gaze firm. Seeking orders, or for him to cut in. Batman looked at Alfred, and briefly pondered.
"…It's up to Alfred if he wants to stay or go," Batman said to address the child and to his butler. "It is late for him. But… The choice is yours."
Alfred's shoulders visible relaxed, just a fraction, but it was enough for Batman to catch. The older man turned back to the child and gave them a smile. Practiced. Calm. An expression he only ever used when it was dealing with children. More so upset children.
"I do have some responsibilities I must tend to," Alfred spoke to the child. Their shoulder's fell in obvious disappointment, but Alfred wasn't done talking. "…Like swapping your clothes, for instance. Once I'm done checking on your things, I will return. Batman here will keep you company until then, but I will be back."
The child seemed to shrink a bit more into themselves, tugging the blanket tighter around them. As if hiding into it. But, they nodded. Slowly, and softly, as their eyes darted to the floor. "…Okay," they spoke softly. So soft they almost missed it.
Alfred gave a nod, a lasting glance at Batman, as if reminding him to be "gentle" in that look alone, and finally he turned away. Batman mentally counted his steps from there to the elevator, and only moved once he heard the door of it opened. Only then did Batman move closer to the child. Their eyes darted up instantly, eyes locked on his form in clear wariness, as he made his way to his chair at the computer.
Like a cornered animal on edge.
Batman grabbed the back of the chair and spun it around, allowing him a chance to face them, and took his own seat in it. A part of him felt like he was dealing with a nervous dog. How the child kept looking at him, wary, but couldn't bare to keep eye contact and looked away. Their leg was bouncing still. Uneasy. On edge. He couldn't blame them. He knows his presence can be intimidating. That was the whole point to the Batman, after all.
"…Do you feel better?" Batman asked.
The child's eyes darted to his face, surprised. They seemed to stare at him for a moment before speaking. "U-um, yeah. A little…"
"Good," Batman said. He felt grateful to have someone as Alfred. Someone who knew how to be delicate in these situations. "I wanted to ask you a few questions…"
"Mm…" The child hummed, brows furrowed.
That didn't look like a willing expression. Just when Batman opened his mouth to continue, a noise caught his attention. Both him and the child looked over, seeing a bright light pop up the center of the room. The child jerked themselves back, pushing farther into the chair as they looked ready to run. Batman quickly stood and held his arm out, trying to prevent them from falling and hurting themselves.
They child looked over at him with wide eyes. Their chest rising up and down quickly. Panic, he realized. He had been hesitant to touch them. Unsure if it would make things worse or not. But in this moment he decided to act. He knew what the glowing yellow light behind him meant as it grew in size. He knew it was nothing for them to worry about, but the child didn't know that.
"Be gentle," Alfred had said.
He definitely couldn't let the man down.
Batman carefully grabbed the child by their upper arms and stood in front of them, having their sole focus on him. They looked at his face and stared, chest rising up and down too quickly. Gently he guided them back down to their seat. Once sat he crouched down a bit so he was more leveled with them. So his height didn't feel so overbearing. Their eyes still locked on his face. Fear so evident. It hurt to look at it. He hadn't meant to cause them such panic.
Seeing that they were staring at his face, Batman remembered what Alfred did a few hours earlier tonight. Batman took a deep breath in, held it, then slowly exhaled. He did it a couple of times, using his mouth to show what he was doing. Without any words, the child began to copying him. A deep breath in, held it for a few seconds, and then exhaled it all out.
"Good," Batman told them as one of his hands rubbed their arm. "That's it. Good. Keep doing that. In, then out."
Batman didn't need to turn around to notice the light faded. He had a suspicion of who was here. But his attention was on the child at this moment. He refused to abandon them now. Finally they seemed to calm a bit, their eyes on him as finally their breathing returned to normal. Batman didn't move away until he noticed them look over his shoulder, eyes piercing with a stare at the new person in the room.
"Sorry if I was late," came the voice of the woman he had spoken with earlier. "Had to wrap up a show. Strict time schedules and all."
"Actually, you're early." Batman stated as he finally stood at attention.
The child's head quickly whipped in his direction at his movement. He kept a hand on their arm, and gave it a firm squeeze. Hoping it gave them comfort. Hoping to show that they would be safe here. It made him wonder just what made a child like this so jumpy and distrusting. But he couldn't ask those questions just yet.
He looked over at the woman who appeared in the room with a magical circle of light. Long, straight black hair, and fair skin. Blue eyes that shines, and a matching smile to go with. Red painted lips with subtle makeup. White shirt and corset, black tail coat jacket, with matching white gloves and what was clearly a black body suit underneath. Fishnet leggings and black heels, making her height seem taller than it was. A black top hat to match with a red band. A show woman through and through. The one and only Zatanna Zatara.
A magician.
A friend Batman has known for a while now. One he didn't call for help often, but this felt like a reasonable enough of a case where her expertise could help. The woman came forth, heels clicking against the metal floor. Her eyes looked over him fast, then to the child in the seat that he was still holding onto. Zatanna gave that award winning smile, soft and kind. The kind only women like her could give. She placed her hands on her knees and lowered herself to an even height. Trying to keep herself to the child's level like it was instinctual.
"Hi there! My name is Zatanna, and I…" She gave a flick of her wrist and sparkles appeared in the air.
In the blink of an eye, a rose appeared in her hands. The child's eyes widened a fraction, a soft gasp escaping their lips as they stared. For a moment Batman was worried it would frighten them, but when he reevaluated the expression on their face, he realized it was slowly turning into awe. Zatanna held the rose out to them, smile still on her face naturally.
"…Am a magician!" Zatanna said dramatically in almost a whisper.
The child stared for a moment, looking up at Batman in an obvious look of uncertainty. He looked back at them and gave them a soft nod, expressing that Zatanna was someone to trust. He even lightly gestured to the rose with his free hand, telling them to take it. The child stared back at Zatanna, their bottom lip disappearing as they worried on it with their teeth. A nervous tick, Batman noted. With a hesitant hand the child reached for the rose, and gently took it from the show-woman.
"…Thank you," They whispered softly, retracting their arm back as they almost seemed to disappear in the blanket over their shoulders.
"Only the prettiest of roses for the prettiest of people," Zatanna gave a wink. Her charisma knowing no bounds.
The child shifted in their seat, head down. But Batman could have sworn he noticed a new flushness in their cheeks. Although Zatanna spooked them, she somehow eased the situation as fast as it had happened. Batman was certain that Zatanna will always impress, no matter the circumstance.
Seeing that the child was a bit more at ease, Batman decided to crouch beside them. Better than to tower over, and ruin whatever peace they have made so far. The child's eyes immediately darted to him, watching his movement as he crouched. But he kept his hand on their arm. Another gentle squeeze. To show that he wasn't going anywhere. He wished he had a chance to talk with Zatanna before introductions, but clearly that wasn't the case anymore. So, he improvised, and hoped that she would pick up his cues as he went.
"Zatanna here is a very skilled magician," Batman spoke to the child calmly. Hoping the steadiness of his voice would ease them. "She comes from a family of magic. Someone who might know a bit more than I do about these things happening with you…"
The child's eyes widened, and just what Batman didn't want to have happen, they looked at Zatanna with panic and shouted, "No! You can't!"
Both adults looked taken aback. Surprised by the exclaim. All the more reason Batman had hoped he could have had time to speak with the child before introductions. So that maybe he could have learned something to help. It was Zatanna who beat him to the punch, however, as she crouched down in the same way Batman was. She kept her hands to herself, having them on her knees and in front of her, hoping to relieve the child.
"Why do you say that…?" Zatanna asked softly, her eyes soft as she wasn't smiling anymore.
"I… You can't!" The child insisted, looking at Zatanna with a grave expression. "It's… It's dangerous…!"
Batman couldn't help but look over to Zatanna, as she did him. Both of them sharing an unsure expression. Neither of them had expected a reaction like this from the child. As they both looked back to them, it was once again Zatanna that spoke next.
"Well… I won't lie to you, magic is dangerous," Zatanna spoke calmly to them. Hoping to ease the child who looked like they were moments away from jumping from the seat. "But, it's only dangerous when untrained. Uncertain. But, with a careful hand, and steady mind…"
Zatanna lifted her hands up and did two quick hand gestures. Batman faintly heard her whisper, not quite recognizing the words, but knowing that it was a spell. Once again, a rose appeared in her hand. But looking back at the child, who blinked their eyes perplexed, the rose was gone from their hands. With slow, careful movements, Zatanna held the rose back out to the child.
"…Anyone can do anything," Zatanna said almost in a whisper, and flashed a soft smile.
The child stared at her, then back at the rose. Uncertain in their gaze. Their eyes flickered back and forth for a moment, before very slowly, they took back the rose. Carefully they seemed to stare at it, eyes hooded, as they seemed deep in thought.
"…Batman's a good friend of mine," Zatanna went on to explain carefully. Catching the child's attention again so they stared at her. "He told me that you were able to create a bit of magic. Can you tell me a bit about it? Like what it felt like, or what you did?"
The child once again began biting on their bottom lip, seeming unsure. But, then they spoke, very soft and very uncertain. "I… Created a barrier. There was gunshots, and the guy in the red helmet protected me, and… All I could think about was not wanting him to die. I imagined a shield or something to protect us, and… it happened…"
"That's impressive," Zatanna said nodding, giving the child a small smile. "That's something that's very hard to do. Was it your first time doing it?"
The child looked back at her and nodded meekly.
"I see," Zatanna nodded again. "Can you tell me how it felt? Do you remember at all how it felt bringing that power forth?"
The child shrunk into themselves once more. Eyes darting down and biting onto their bottom lip. Uncertain and closed off. A thing they didn't want to have happen. As much as Batman would rather have Zatanna take the lead on this, he decided to hopefully give the child a nudge.
"You did a very brave thing tonight," Batman reiterated to the child. Something that caused their eyes to dart over to him and stare. "You saved lives. Something that not many people can do. Zatanna knows more about magic and these things than any of us do. She can help you if you tell her how it works…"
The child looked away from him and at the flower in their hand. They've been twisting it between their fingers back and forth, staring at it, and contemplating. Finally, just when Batman was about to pull away and suggest a new strategy to Zatanna, the child spoke up.
"…I can't tell you, because I'm afraid I'll hurt more people," the child said softly as they seemed afraid to look at them anymore. "If I tell you, I can't un-tell you. The more I tell you the more at risk you are, and I…"
They seemed to be staring off, not looking at anyone and staring through instead. They shook their head back and forth, eyes looking glossy. Tears threatening to spill forth at any moment. Batman looked over at Zatanna. Trying to gauge what she was thinking. An uneasiness taking forth within him at the words of the child.
"Hey, it's okay–" Zatanna began to say as she lifted her hand up.
Gently her gloved hand touched the child's, and before Batman knew it, he felt like a wave hit him. A small, sharp pain. Right to the side of his head. At first he thought he could shrug it off, but then it became stronger. So much so that he pulled his hand away from the child and held the side of his head, grimacing as the pain grew stronger.
Just as the pain grew piercing, it suddenly disappeared.
As if it never happened in the first place.
When Batman lifted his head he noticed how Zatanna was. Her own hands hovering over her head, eyes squinting as a grimace was on her face. A similar, and simultaneous reaction. One that logic would decree it to not make sense. But Magic? Magic could explain all of it. When Batman looked back to the child he noticed they were fine. Shrunken into themselves yet again. Blanket clutched tighter, and wrapped themselves in it more. As if trying to hide behind it. Bottom lip being bitten more fiercely than before.
"I'm sorry," Batman realized the child was muttering it between their teeth and bitten lip. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry—"
"It's okay," Zatanna spoke.
The child paused, eyes lifting to stare at her as they seemed to pull the blanket tighter. Batman wondered if the threads would hold if they pulled any tighter.
"It's okay," Zatanna repeated herself and once again gave a smile. One that almost eased even Batman's nerves. But she kept her eyes on the child, as her attention was focused on easing them. "Nobody here blames you. It's okay." Zatanna looked over at Batman, and he felt more alert than he had been previously. "Batman and I are just going to go over some things. But, we won't be far. I just want to talk to him about some… adult things."
The child didn't respond. Not verbally, at any rate. They gave the smallest of nods. One that almost was unnoticeable with the large shock blanket swallowing them in the seat. Not wanting to let this chance slip while they had it, Batman stood and held his arm out to Zatanna. Gesturing her in the direction for them to go.
She gave the child one more smile, and even a small wave. All actions in trying to reassure them. The most it did was make them glance up, but they quickly looked back down to the floor. Almost as if they were ashamed of what had just occurred. Something that Batman was still trying to wrap his own head around, if he was honest. Once Zatanna stood they both walked away from the child. Far enough to stay out of their earshot, but close enough that Batman could still keep an eye on them.
They kept in their seat. Lightly twisting it back and forth with one foot. Slumped, and adjusting the blanket around them. As if no matter what they did they couldn't get comfortable. No one would have guessed that this child saved possibly hundreds of lives tonight. Or that they caused some kind of ability that could pierce one's head so sharply it was as if a knitting needle was forced into one's skull, only to make it go away as if it never had happened in the first place.
"Okay," Zatanna sighed out as she crossed her arms heavily underneath her chest. "That was… certainly something." She gave Batman a pointed look. "You didn't warn me about a kid like that."
"I had hoped we could chat before speaking with them." Batman stated honestly and openly with her. "That didn't happen."
Zatanna let out another sigh before lightly glancing over her shoulder at the child. "Yeah, well, too late I guess." She looked back at him with that firm look again. "Did you learn anything about them? Anything about their background that might hint to their powers, or even Meta abilities?"
Batman grimly shook his head. He watched her brows raise high in surprise as he spoke. "They've resisted speaking about anything so far. Also, we keep getting interrupted. Like somehow something doesn't want me finding out their story…"
"Well, that's not… great," Zatanna murmured and lightly shook her head back and forth. "I was hoping you might've learned something. Maybe a certain town or something they came from, or a family name that has a history with magic. Something. But, this?" She looked over at the child before looking back at him. "…I don't know what to do about this."
Batman felt his entire body tense up at her words. He looked down at her warily. Uncertain if he could even prepare himself with what he was about to ask her.
"What do you mean by that?" Batman asked, eyes narrowed.
Zatanna did something that was very unlike her. She hesitated. Uncertain. It was rare that Batman ever saw her react in such a way. Batman knew her relatively well. He met her father, even trained under her father for a time. Their family is well established in magic and their knowledge of it. Zatanna had a mastery of it at a young age as well. For someone like her to be hesitant? It didn't give Batman any reassurance of what she was going to say next.
"When I touched their hand, I felt… something," Zatanna quietly whispered to him. "A magic so old and so strong that I don't recognize it."
"Are you saying that they might not even be who they're trying to say they are?" Batman asked, feeling more and more on edge with how she spoke.
"Not quite," Zatanna shook her head. "That's not what I meant. What I meant, is that they have too much power. It's almost like a faucet. There's so much of it, and so little of it is contained, that I can't even recognize it. It's… strange. When I look at them it's like there's nothing there. Like I'm staring at a normal person. But when I touched them, when I actually made contact…"
Zatanna paused, her eyes fluttering. As if trying to select her words carefully. "…I felt like I was dealing with something else entirely."
Batman glanced over warily at the child. Who still sat in their seat. Swallowed by a heavy blanket, twisting the flower in their hand back and forth. They didn't notice his stare, or at least didn't make it known that they see it. He felt a coil in his gut. Unease. Briefly wondering just what did Jason drag into his cave, underneath his house, and near all his precious equipment.
Near his family.
"But…" Zatanna spoke again, causing Batman to snap out of his thoughts and back to her. "I might not recognize what it is, but someone else we know might… Someone who might be able to pinpoint it better than I can."
Batman's brows furrowed. Someone they both knew? Someone who was better at magic than Zatanna? He couldn't figure who. The person who came into mind was maybe her father. The man was a professional at what he did, a master at it in fact. But he was long dead. He couldn't help them. But the more he thought on it the more his eyes slowly widened, and he stared at Zatanna as he recognized the almost nervous smile on her face. His eyes narrowed immediately.
"No." He firmly stated.
"We need him," Zatanna insisted.
"Do we, though?" Batman resisted. A grave shake of his head. "There must be another way. Someone else."
"You know just as much as I that he is the best shot that we have at recognizing the magic that this child possesses," Zatanna spoke softly as she stepped closer into Batman's space. An action that made him more on edge than before. "He specializes in it. If he can pinpoint it, we can then figure out how to help the child…"
Batman made a disgruntled noise.
He didn't like the thought of it. A child as vulnerable as them, being subjected to the idiocy and dangers of that magician—he refused. He didn't want to risk it. Batman saw more cons than pros with the man that Zatanna was suggesting. Here he was, hoping this would be an easy case to be solved. Yet, it seemed like every wrench in the making was determined to make it as complicated as possible.
"I trust them in your hands far more than his," Batman stated genuinely.
"I can still help," Zatanna said. But he saw the way her smile faltered, and he narrowed his eyes, and her shoulders drooped a bit. "…At least, until we know what sort of magic it is."
Batman shook his head. "If you can't help them, then I would rather try keeping them sanctioned here until we figure out what to do with them."
"Bruce, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?" Zatanna narrowed her own eyes back at him, deeply frowning at his words.
The sound of his name on her lips almost made him flinch. Eyes briefly darting to the child. Hoping they can't hear. But they were just as they were before. Seated, swaying, wrapped in a blanket and staring at the flower vacantly. Good. They can't hear, then.
"Unfiltered and untrained magic is just as dangerous as Meta abilities, maybe even worse!" Zatanna continued as her emphasized her point in firm and repeated gestures. "Please, Bruce. Let's give it a shot. If we can pinpoint just what kind of magic they use, we can then figure out how to train them."
"And if we can't? If none of it works? What then?" Batman verbally pushed back.
He never liked working on hypotheticals. Theories were one thing. Traces of facts that could be linked and attached. This felt like they were just trying to pigeon-hole the situation, which was not what he wanted. Taking a shot in the dark with no real way of knowing. With the person they were going to let take a shot felt to Batman that they were putting the child on execution.
"Then we figure it out," Zatanna spoke simply. Her voice much softer than before. Soft blue eyes almost begging. "Please, Bruce, give him a chance. He won't be alone in doing it. Plus, you'll be right there to stop anything from going too far. We get answers, the child gets some guidance—everybody wins!"
"That has yet to be seen…" Batman narrowed his eyes at her.
"So…? Does that mean yes, or…?" Zatanna asked softly, eyes staring at him.
Batman let out a disgruntled noise, fists tightly clutched at his sides. He didn't like this option she was giving him. But, he also knew how dangerous it was letting someone with magic powers loose on the streets. Something that his specialties didn't allow him a chance to properly counter. As much as it bothered him, he knew Zatanna had a point.
"…Only on my terms." Batman stated firmly. "No funny business. No risking anyone's safety. If it can't be done, then we figure it out a different way."
Zatanna smiled, victory screaming in her eyes. Something that Batman hoped he wouldn't regret. "Deal!" She held her hand out in a shake.
He did not.
She pulled her hand back, but her cheeriness still persisted. "I'll call him and get him here. You take care of our gloomy guest in the meantime. Maybe you both can bond with a shared broody nature?"
Batman could only narrowed his eyes at her in response. Zatanna laughed in response.
This was going to be a long night.
.
.
POV ???
'What a blood mess…'
Getting a call from Zatanna Zatara was never something that anyone should ignore. Especially the walking disaster of a Brit known as John Constantine. Cigarette already lit and hanging from his lips, expression already set in a light glower as he was moments away from summoning the teleportation circle.
It was just supposed to be another night. Out on the town, drinking every bar that hasn't banned him or kicked him out yet, and maybe getting a lay with some other lonely person he met that night. Man, woman, demon, thing—all was fair game in his mind. He's been there and done that—nothing new to the Brit, really. But when Zatanna Zatara herself calls him, he knows to drop everything and pick up the phone.
There was a time they were close. Intimately close. Not anymore. Now they were just coworkers. Coworkers who barely even saw each other. But coworkers nonetheless. Especially when it came to the League. Especially when it came to cases that popped up on their supernatural radar.
Unfortunately for John he was only meagerly buzzed and clocking back into a work that never paid him for his services. He didn't want to admit how his heart leapt in his throat when he realized who it was, or how quick he had answered in his standards. Five rings, which was fast for him. His brain barely registered her words. Just hearing her so close to his ear made his head all fuzzy.
Damn, maybe he was drunker than he thought.
But, when Zatanna asked him to show up where he was, he felt himself sobering up. He did hear the words "Bat" and "cave", and immediately that happy hour mood he was feeling soured. He begrudgingly downed the last of his beer and left the bar, ignoring the curse words and "You have to pay!" being shouted at him as he left.
"Put it on my tab," He waved the bartender off, not even looking over his shoulder at them.
"Damn twat," he was cursed with.
Eh, could be worse.
When he stepped outside he was squinting his eyes, realizing what time it was as the sun was beginning to break on the horizon. He hadn't realized how much time he had spent in that bar. Then again, it wasn't just a bar. It was a club. One of those ones where they go all night and all day. No real break. Can't really see the windows too well, so you had no real way of knowing just what time it was. Especially with the flashing lights and loud music that honestly he didn't care for.
The outside felt like the opposite of that club. Quiet, cold. The chill of the morning sunrise sobering up him quicker than he wanted. Few people on the sidewalks. Always the older folk, who can't help themselves but get up early and go for "that mornin' walk." Buncha bullshit, if you asked John. But, he was asked to show up for a job. As much as he didn't want to go, and instead go back inside to that bar and drown himself in alcoholic sorrows and warm bodies he won't remember the faces or names of, Zatanna Zatara called him.
It had to mean something, at any rate.
Especially if it was her calling him.
A washed up occult enthusiast that could smell the booze that wafted off of him. Making him wish for another. He dug his hands for the cigarette box in his pockets and fished them out, taking one of the cancer sticks and taking it between his lips. No need for a lighter when he could just conjure it with a flick of his finger, lighting the end with ease. He took a slow, deep breath in. Savoring that smoke and nicotine that filled his lungs.
As he pulled the cigarette from his mouth he let out a groan, smoke escaping his lips with the annoyed sound that left him. He chanted words low in his mouth, almost dragging the syllables as he flicked his wrist. A bright yellow teleportation circle appeared beside him. The light making him glare, flinching at out the brightness of it made his eyes and head ache immediately.
Here he was, teleporting to Zatanna Zatara, and not getting a chance to change and bathe.
Just great.
But, as much as he was anxious to see her (what him anxious to see a girl? Nooo, never!), he was less than enthused than who else he was going to be seeing. Already putting the cigarette back into his mouth, he stepped through the portal. It was instantaneous. Just three steps and he was out on the other side, standing in a completely new place that wasn't the grey morning streets of England.
The only thing John Constantine felt grateful for was the fact that it was darker in the area. No killer lights to sting his eyes. The light of the portal shrunk behind him, and with a final puff of his cigarette, he tossed it behind him just as it closed. He already knew the earful he would receive if he kept smoking the cigarette.
"Ah, perfect timing!" Exclaimed the familiar voice that almost made John jolt.
He turned his head lazily and spotted the woman that made things too hard to think through. Bitterly reminding himself to reign it in and be normal about it. Which was easy, especially when his eyes landed on the man that stood beside Zatanna Zatara in all her glory.
The Batman.
The blooding bloke that made John want to flip him off and go back to England.
He didn't really know who the Batman was. Not really. Not truly. All John really knew was that the Batman was someone who was incredible rich, enjoyed black leather tights a bit too much, and clearly was a masochist with the vigilante life he leads.
Too bad they didn't really get along.
John didn't really have anything against the guy, really. He did better than him, that was for sure. The Batman irritated John in a way that not many would probably relate to him about. His stuffy personality, and his stubbornness at pointless things that made it hard to stay in the presence of the man long enough. Not to mention the obvious sight of money that practically got spat in your face just by the mere sight of all his gadgets and doohickeys.
Did he mention that the Batman always gave John a hard time about smoking?
Because he did. Every. Sodding. Time.
John tried to clear his throat, hoping not to show just how buzzed he still was from his night on the town. The smile that Zatanna gave was warm. Welcoming. Then you glance just two feet left of her and there glowering over her head and shoulders was the Batman. In his damned, brooding glory. Looking as intimidating and stupid as ever.
Was he being petty? Maybe.
Fuck 'im, nonetheless.
"Zatanna," John greeted with a slight nod as he shoved his hands into the deep pockets of his trench coat. Eyes narrowing as he looked over to the man who's cave they were standing in. "Batman. What do I owe pleasure of being summoned so early in the mornin'?"
Zatanna raised a brow, frowning at him slightly. "I told you over the phone, Constantine," she said and crossed her arms. "Didn't you hear a word I said?"
John paused, feeling like he was put under a microscope. He vaguely remembered. The club was loud, and he had someone leaning way too close to his other ear for him to recall all the details properly. But he couldn't tell her that.
"Of course! I was just, distracted, was all," John gave a small shrug and her a sheepish smile. "…Mind tellin' me again?"
Zatanna narrowed her eyes, an exasperated look taking over her features. Not even a few seconds in this damnable cave and he's already gone ahead and messed things up. He hated that look of hers. That sort of "I'm disappointed in you" look that only Zatanna could pull off with him. The one that always made his stomach coil and his mood sour further.
Maybe it was a good thing they weren't seeing each other anymore…
"We need your help in examining a type of magic," Batman stated. Voice deep and monotone.
Always hard to tell what he was thinking or feeling. John always had a sense he was always on the verge of being pissed off, just moments away from snapping. Never a fun feeling, that. Where John walked on eggshells with one person, he was walking on nails with the other. All he could think of was, 'Can't I catch a bloody break?'
"What'd'you need my expertise for?" John asked, raising a brow at Batman in particular. "You have the better magician standin' right next to you. If she can't figure it out, then I probably ain't much better, mate…"
"He's serious, John," Zatanna spoke up, stepping towards him. He clamped his mouth shut, hoping she wasn't smelling the booze that oozed from his mouth. It was hard to ignore the way her eyes looked at him, pinning him to the ground where he stood. "This isn't an artifact we're trying to deal with. It's a child."
John felt his entire body go rigid. His hands feeling cold. Like ice water was shot into his veins. It certainly sobered him up faster at hearing those words escape her mouth.
"A what?" John couldn't help but ask.
He watched how they both turned their heads into a direction, and John follow suit.
Right across from where they were standing, almost practically on the other side of the cave, was indeed a child. Bundled up in a blanket. One of those shitty shock blankets that John recognized. Sitting in some office chair, one leg poking out as they used their toes to spin it back and forth. Slowly swaying as they stared at something in their hands. The only bright thing in the room with a pop of color, was a red rose. Twisting and twirling it in their hand, just like they were doing in the chair.
John felt his entire stomach drop all the way to his ass.
"No," He quickly said and stepped back. His head growing in speed and he shook it back and forth. "Nope. Absolutely not!"
"John, wait, please—!" Zatanna quickly followed after him.
John kept his back to her, knowing that if he dared look at her face he might just question himself. But his fear was bigger than his attraction towards her. A child? A damn child? Were they out of their minds?! Fear gripped at John's throat in icy grasp. No matter the heat that radiated from him from his buzzed state of drinking, the adrenaline now spiking his veins was quickly sobering him up. A thing that he was very ungrateful for. He wanted to be away from here as fast as possible.
"I don't do kids, Z! You both know this!" John hissed back, making sure to keep his voice low as he didn't want the child actually hearing him. He dared to look over his shoulder, but only to send a glare at Batman specifically. "This is not my problem. Figure it out yourself. Don't you have like, twenty kids as it is? What's one more to ya, huh?"
"This is different, Constantine." Batman stated firmly as even he gave a brisk chase to John's storming away, keeping up, but not as closely as Zatanna was. "They're powerful. One in a way we can't measure. Only you can give us an idea of what we're dealing with, and how we can approach with dealing with them."
John paused at that.
He knew he should have kept going. Should have kept walking until he slammed the door in their faces. But it made his pause. Briefly debating things in his mind, weighing outcomes, when he remembered that Zatanna was behind him that his resolve quickly crumbling. John let out a frustrated groan, finally turning and staring at Zatanna who was almost minutes away from colliding into his back. She stepped back, staring up at him with those blue eyes that he tried not to stare too deeply in. But then the motion of Batman standing behind both of them made his gaze flicker to him, and any semblance of feelings left immediately.
"…What kind of power are we talkin' about here?" John asked, eyes narrowed at Batman.
"The kind that can scramble high technological scans and results," Batman stated bluntly. "The kind that can create magic barriers that can be the size of buildings, and can even move them for a time. The kind of power that can tap into a person's head and cause a headache, only to then disappear and make you question if it happened in the first place…"
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
John couldn't help the slight slack of his jaw. For a moment he thought that maybe Batman was yanking his chain, but this was Batman. The man barely had a funny bone in his body. He wasn't the type to lie or exaggerate these things. And when John glanced at Zatanna, seeing the way she was staring at him with that desperate gaze, he knew he was cooked. That this was serious.
He couldn't help but look away from her and groan silently, throwing his head back to glare at the rocky ceiling above them. Cursing God and whoever else could hear him in his head. Just his fucking luck, right? Finally John looked back at Zatanna, and tried to ignore that itching rise for another cigarette that clawed at his throat.
"Did you cross out possession?" John asked, trying to look at her with a leveled gaze.
"That's the thing," Zatanna spoke as she fidgeted with her hands. Pulling at the edges of her gloves as if to fix it. A nervous habit. A bad tell sign, John knew. "At first when you look at them, they just seem like an ordinary human. Not even really any signs of a Meta, if I'm honest. But then I had touched their hand. Wasn't even trying to reach out, if I'm honest. And they somehow sent out this power that made me feel almost nauseous. It came so fast that I almost thought maybe it was just me. But when I looked back at Batman, who was also feeling it, I knew it wasn't just me."
She gave him a grave look. Looking at him through her brows. "They're strong, John. Just that moment, as quick as it was, I was able to see that they have a lot of magical power. A kind that I haven't seen in a very, very long time…"
John took in a steady breath through his nose, feeling the dread that they were building as they told him this story. He glanced back at the child in question. Just wondering if he could see something. But they just rocked back and forth, seeming bored. Seeming… normal.
Not very magically strong, if you asked him.
"…So, why'd you call me?" John asked, raising a brow back at the two adults beside him.
"If anyone can categorize this magic, it's you," Zatanna said finally.
"You think it's demonic?" He asked, staring at her with a firm gaze.
If this was as serious as they were both making it out to be, John wasn't going to be playing around when it came to such matters. Good morals be damned. If that child was demonic, he'll send them back to Hell in a fiery punishment worse than whatever Satan himself could come up with for ruining his drinking night.
Morning? Whatever. Same difference in his mind.
"I don't know what it is," Zatanna confessed, "but I don't think the child is being possessed. I think they're just scared and lost on what to do."
John narrowed his eyes at her. She was still fidgeting with her gloves. "…But? What aren't you saying, Z?"
The woman pressed her lips firmly together. Hesitant. Now that definitely wasn't a good sign. Zatanna was one thing entirely. A magic powerhouse, truly. A magician who could probably wipe this whole planet out of the solar system if she really wanted to. But she was too good for that. A woman who's confidence was practically her brand. If she was fidgeting this nervously, then something was horribly wrong.
"Zatanna said that the magic felt "old,"" Batman answered before Zatanna. Something that made John's brow twitch in irritation, but he let the man speak. "But, this child seems to be new to this. They're not used to the magic they have." Batman's eyes narrowed. "They also refuse to talk. Said that if they tell us, we'd be in "danger.""
John couldn't help but raise a brow. "So what, they threatenin' the both of you?"
"No, not a threat," Zatanna shook her head adamantly. "A warning. Like they were scared for us."
John's brows furrowed together. For a moment he tried cataloging the information. Trying to section off magics and trying to think of what it could be. What he was used to, at least.
"Could be possession," John murmured his thoughts aloud, a hand on his chin as he stroke it in thought. "Just 'cause the child doesn't seem to be possess doesn't mean they aren't. Maybe an old demon, or some grouchy old soul wanting revenge of some sort. A quick exorcise should do the trick, so—"
"That's not it, John." Zatanna said firmly and shook her head. Her confidence in her words is what made him falter.
"Then what am I bloody here for then?!" John exclaimed, crossing his arms firmly against his chest in irritation. He tried not to snap, really, he did. But this was becoming frustrating. "My expertise are the Occult, Dark Occult in fact, or have the both of you forgotten!?"
"Don't you snap at me, John Constantine!" Zatanna firmly spoke back, pointing a sharp finger in his face that caused the blond to lean his head back, as if her finger was a knife. He's seen those nails. They might as well be. "This is serious! Just, try talking to them with me. Maybe if we both show them that we know what we're doing, they might open up to us more."
John warily stared at her finger until she retracted it. He saw that desperate look on her face again and found himself wanting to groan one last time. This must be Batman's fault, he believed. Using her to get to him. He was sure the brooding man who loved playing dress up was at fault for the misery that John was feeling now. But he didn't vocalize his annoyance. Instead he let out a sigh, and gave Zatanna a firm look.
"…Let's say it works," John murmured and rolled his eyes at the thought of even humoring the idea. "What then? Are you going to shove the child out into the streets and be done with it?"
"They're too dangerous to let out onto the streets and walking free." Batman stated firmly, all attention going to him. "They have no home. No parents, so far as we know. They've been out on the streets on their own for a while now. How long, we can't say. The child doesn't want to talk. But, they did some good tonight. Saved a few people out on the streets from a hit and run. They can do good. If we can get an idea of what magic they have, maybe we can train them to control it."
John's eyes narrowed at him. "And what? Turn them into a little foot soldier to fight for the greater good? They're a child, not some bloody adult that we can put them on the pay stub!"
Batman narrowed his own eyes. A flash of his own anger shining through, quickly stepping forward and invading John's space. The man may be a few inches taller, but John blamed it on the combat boots. He glared back at the white eyes that tried to stare him down. For once, this felt like something John couldn't back down from.
"They're a child who needs guidance," Batman growled at him under his breath. Tone still low, voice kept quiet so the child never heard. But John could feel the anger in the way his breath hit his face. "If we can help them, than it's up to us to do it. It's better than throwing them back out into the streets and letting them fall victim to their own ignorance. Something that some adults still haven't learned…"
"Oh, that's real rich comin' from you," John said and he grinned dryly at him. Feeling a vein throb on his neck as he couldn't stand being this close to the man. "How's that pretty little car of yours? Nice and expensive, yeah? How many people did you pummel in your streets in order to pay it all off?"
"Enough!" Zatanna exclaimed.
She inserted herself in between them, forcefully pushing them apart with her own hands. She broke the tension glares coming from them, attention now on her, as she gave them both disappointed looks. Something that John was unfortunately accustomed to.
"This is not about any of us," Zatanna spoke as she gave each man a firm glare, looking back and forth at them with each sentence she gave. "We are here for a child. One who's probably feeling really lost, and scared, and not knowing who to trust as they're probably scared to trust themselves. As League members, as heroes, and as adults, it's up to us to help them. Not fight with each other."
John couldn't help but glance back at Batman, seeing that he was already glaring back at him. He matched his glare, scowl deeply etched on John's face. Zatanna looked between them both. A heavy beat of silence hanging over them. Neither wall seeming willing to budge.
"…Bloody hell, fine!" John growled and looked away.
He turned his back quickly and stepped away. His hands immediately finding that box of cigarettes in his pocket, but he refrained from pulling them out. He knew better. Last time John tried lighting a cigarette he blew it in Batman's face just to spite him. Unfortunately, he learned real quick how not to do that ever again. John's frustration began feeling more palpable by the minute. No way to let the stress out. He let out a noise in the back of his throat to show it, only to then whirl back around and point a finger at Batman.
"I'll examine the bloody kid, but if you so much as push them onto me, I'm demanding you pay out of your pockets for it," John said pointing a firm finger at Batman. "You want to do charity work so bad? Fine. But I never agreed to children, you all know why! If you dare push them onto me, it's you who's going to be payin' for it…"
Batman lifted his chin up, shoulders squared, as his black cape wrapped around him in a way that almost made him look solid. Like it swallowed his whole form and limbs, and all he was was some floating head with drapes.
Zatanna let out a heavy sigh. "Fine. If that's what you want, I can pay with—"
"Not you, love," John cut her off quickly. Tone far more gentler than before. But it sharpened as he glared back at Batman and emphasized again with another jab at the air with his finger. "Only his money. He found the kid, yeah? Then he's responsible for 'em…"
Zatanna looked incredulously at him, jaw slightly slacked as she whipped her head back and forth between them. Her brows furrowed and pinching together. It was almost cute, how she looked back and forth in confusion.
"John, that isn't—" Zatanna tried to say.
"Fine." Batman cut her off.
"What?" Both John and Zatanna said in unintentional unison.
"I said fine." Batman repeated himself. Tone back to being stoic and hard to read. Just like that damnable face of his. Curse him for actually looking handsome like that. John just wanted to punch him. "If it means the child will have better control of their powers, I'll pay for it then. Money isn't the issue."
"Ah, well then. Good!" John hissed, trying to keep some of that anger from before.
Zatanna narrowed her eyes at him and gave him a look, her arms crossing slowly across her chest. "What're you so surprised? You're the only one here making demands!"
"I didn't bloody think he's agree so fast," John murmured to her genuinely, shoving his hands in his pockets as he shrugged at her. "I thought he'd tell me to piss off or somethin'. But, hey! Not a bad deal at all! Now, let's go meet the little buggar, yeah?"
John heard the sigh before he saw it, knowing that Zatanna was shaking her head at him as he took point. He could hear the other two following him, Batman quickly taking the lead with the longer stride. For a moment John thought of just overtaking him, just to irritate the man, but then his eyes landed back onto the child.
Their head snapped up the moment they heard footsteps. No more rocking back and forth in that chair. Eyes locked on them, bouncing between the three. John slowed himself, realizing that he hadn't fully thought this whole thing through. That nervousness that he felt before came forth. His palms felt sweaty even in his jacket, but when he rubbed his fingers on the cloth they felt cold. His heart beating in his chest faster than he liked to admit.
He's never been good with kids.
It was only when they got closer did he see the details of them better. A bit of a hollow crease in their cheeks that children shouldn't normally have. Face looking almost gaunt. When he looked at their eyes, he noticed how sporadic they seemed. Bouncing back and forth, unable to stay on one thing. Constantly going back to his form. It wasn't until he was actually standing in front of them did he notice the darkness of bags underneath their eyes.
'Nervous behavior, sporadic eye movements, clear signs of a lack of sleep and appetite, and a lack of red complexion that shows bad health,' John listed the signs in his head. 'Kid looks like they've been through the ringer…'
It was Batman who took point. He got closer to the child, immediately taking a knee to kneel beside them. He offered his hand to them by resting it on the arm of the chair. The child stared at him, eyes briefly casting a glance at Constantine before back to him. Tiny hand emerging from the blanket to immediately take his. The child was clearly nervous with all the company standing before them, that much John could tell.
Batman spoke a name John didn't recognize, realizing it to be the child's. "…This man here is a colleague of mine. His name is John Constantine. He has his own way of navigating magic, like Zatanna. He's here to help."
The child briefly looked at John, eyes going up and down as they evaluated him. Then looked back to Batman before John had a chance to speak up, and gave Batman a look. "I told you. I can't tell you guys anything. It's better nobody knows…"
"You did say that," Zatanna said with a slight sigh as she crouched down herself. Matching Batman in trying to level herself with the child. "But with Constantine here, you won't have to tell us anything. Nobody has to be in danger, and you don't have to say anything you aren't comfortable with. We're just trying to figure out how we can help you."
""Help me?"" The child quoted her words. They gave Batman a look and pulled their hand away. Even John felt that coil of dread by the action. Watched how Batman tighten his empty hand and pulled it away from them. "You can help me by giving me my stuff back, and letting me go. I need to leave here."
"Why's that?" John dared to ask, finally speaking up.
All eyes landed on him. He could practically sense the wariness from Batman and Zatanna. The child looked at him, and John felt his body stiffen. The more he stared at their eyes, the more he began to feel uneasy by them. Nothing was strange about the color. Just, average eyes. Same color that anyone else could have. But he noticed the slightest shift they had. Slightly shaking back and forth. The kind of movement that people had during conversations, or if they were reading something. An uneasiness settling in the pit of John's stomach as he felt his own hairs rising on end.
There was something odd about this child…
"…I can't tell you," the child said softly and shook their head back and forth. "You wouldn't understand. Plus, it'll just put people in danger. I need to get moving."
"Something chasin' you?" John asked, narrowing his eyes at the child.
"John," Zatanna whispered in a pointed way.
He knew he was poking something. Maybe he should just let the two handle the talking. Maybe he should just keep quiet and watch. But the more he stared back at this child, there was something there. He could feel it in the way his skin prickled. Hairs standing on end. Now this. This was what he was familiar with.
Uncertainty.
The child stared at him and shook their head. "If I say it, I can't take it back. Once you know, you can't unknow. I…" They shook their head again and looked away. "I can't tell you! Any of you! For everyone's safety, I need my belongings and to leave this place! I need to go back to traveling. That's the only way anyone can be safe."
"You keep talkin' about safety, but you don't have a clue of what you're doin', do you?" John asked, not afraid to say the things that everyone keeps beating around the bush.
"Constantine," Batman warned him.
"No, no! Don't stop me," John shook his head at him, eyes fixated on the child. "I wanna hear their answer…"
The child stared back at him, only to look away. Unable to keep hold of his stare. Then came the strange itch in his head, causing him to slightly tilt his head to the side. Like there was a hushed whispered, so faint and quiet. It scratched at his ears. His eyes narrowed.
Maybe this was something needing his expertise.
"I…" The child's mouth moved up an down, as if trying to figure out what exactly they wanted to say. He noticed them squeeze their eyes shut before speaking. Almost like they were in pain. "…I don't want to hurt anybody…!"
John let their words settled into the air.
There was a tension that hadn't be there previously. A heavier one. One that put every single adult on edge. John focused his mind on the whispers, trying to see if he could hear it more. Unfortunately he couldn't. For a moment he wondered if he was just hearing things. But the more he stared at the child, the more he began to wonder.
"…What if I told you I know a couple of wards?" John suggested.
The child paused. Body completely still. John waited. Finally, they lifted their head up, a look of curiosity on their face, as he could tell they were trying to hide the grimace of pain. Even Batman and Zatanna was looking at him now.
He had center stage. He couldn't let this chance slip.
"Wards are kinda like spells," John briefly explained. "Drawings I can make and maintain. There's a multitude of wards out there. Real easy to do if you know what you're lookin' for…"
The child stared at him for a moment. "What… What kind of wards?"
"Any kind," John answered as he sense a rise of whispers. He kept talking, hearing them be louder than before. He made sure to speak in a way that was like offering honey to flies. "Protection, wish for safe travels, offerings—I know many kinds. All easy to do. All you have to do is just learn. Lucky for you…" He gave them a firm look. "I'm offering up my services."
"John—" He heard Zatanna begin to say.
But even to his surprise, it was Batman who stopped her. He reached his hand out, grabbing her arm. Trying to quietly tell her to give John a chance, as even John was sure he was beginning to notice a change in the child. They turned their attention back to the child, allowing John the chance to continue.
The child looked uncertain. Bottom lip disappearing. Probably biting and picking at the skin. A nervous habit, John noticed. They seemed to be debating in their head in the way they didn't quite look directly at him, but in his general direction. It was when their eyes shifted did John know he had their attention.
"What… What kind of services…?" The child asked softly. As if scared to ask, but the curiosity was eating away.
'Gotcha,' John thought before speaking. "Control. I can teach you how to control those abilities of yours. To figure out how to not only protect yourself, but to protect others. To be a hero, like ol' Batsy here. Or the gorgeous Zatanna Zatara. Confident, and in control of yourself."
The child stared at him. Eyes almost unblinking. There was a pregnant pause. As if letting the weight of John's words settle in. Quietly he begged the child to take the bait. To give him the chance of trust. There was something there in the strange whispers he heard. Something in their creepy behavior and uncomfortable stares.
Something dark. Something that John wasn't sure that even Batman himself fully understood that the child may possess.
But John did.
He could understand it very well. But, he could only fully understand it if the child gave the detail.
"Could you…" The child spoke softly, almost hesitantly. Hands fidgeting and seeming restless in their seat. "Could you… teach a ward that can… That can stop teleportation?"
Now, John didn't expect that question.
"In a way, I can," John nodded. "Depends, though. Magic is a very specific thing. Even the smallest of details can change a spell. There's a lot of variations that matter when it comes to wards. What sort of teleportation are we talking about?"
The child gripped the blanket a bit tighter. But their eyes were locked onto John. As if worried if they looked away he'd disappear. He could already feel the heat of their gaze pressing in on him. Did he do something wrong already?
"Can you… Can you make someone not teleport in their sleep?" The child asked softly.
"Teleport in their sleep…" John echoed, brows a bit furrowed.
An interesting trait. One that he was slightly unfamiliar with. Usually people who teleport in their sleep tend to usually be kidnapped victims. Not people with uncontrollable powers. But, binding a person to a place, that he could do. When he glanced back at the child he noticed how they almost seemed to be holding their breath. Seeming on edge to get his answer.
"…I can certainly do that," John responded.
Maybe he was being a bit of a shitter here.
Pulling bullshit from his ass. But, he knows wards. He knows occult things. Even if this meant letting the child tell him a bit more, just a bit, he could figure out the rest. Information that could put people in danger? He dealt with that everyday of his life. Plus, it wasn't like he had anyone in his close life to worry about. Nobody at home to care about. No parents to fret over. Just himself. As much as the thought slightly terrified him, the more he conversed with this child, the more he was beginning to wonder if he might just be the best chance this child had.
Admittedly, he was beginning to feel a bit bold. Maybe a bit too much air in his own head, really. But he dared to get closer to the child, as he had been the farthest person away from them. He copied Zatanna and Batman, crouching down in front of them, but now being the closest person in front of them.
He could feel his own heart beating too fast in his chest. He wiped away the clamminess in his hands one last time. Trying to still seem appealing, in a way. For a moment he forgot he was dealing with a child. But now being closer, seeing how small they were—seeing them closer. It made him all the more nervous. To hesitate. But his curiosity was slowly winning over his fear. He wanted to know. He wanted to know just what this child possessed that made Zatanna Zatara and the Batman hesitate.
What was the darkness that seemed desperate to whisper into his ears?
"I could even teach you more than that," John offered. "I can help you not feel so afraid of everythin'. Make you feel like you can walk around like a normal person, and not a walkin' disaster. But…"
John placed his hand on the armrest of their chair. Not quite offering his hand. But, not quite closing them off. His hesitance still there, but he so desperately wanted to know more. What were these powers?
"…I can only do it if you let me in," John said in a hushed tone to them.
The nail in the coffin, John decided.
The child stare at him intensely. The rose in their being held so tightly John didn't believe the child notice that they had snapped the stem. He was beginning to feel almost nervous under their stare. He could feel the awkwardness in his chest taking hold. Was he even doing this right? He wasn't really talking to them like a child. Trying to keep that confident persona up, he cleared his throat. Seeming to almost snap the child out of their stare as they looked at him in confusion. With a careful hand he gently took the rose out of their hands, not exactly making skin contact. The child's eyes shifted to the rose.
"Oh…!" The said softly, seeming surprise that it was broken. "I'm… I'm sorry…"
"That's alright," John said with a shrug as he held the rose up. He whispered a few magic phrases, but held the rose in front of the child so they watched. "Flowers are delicate little things. Sure they smell nice, but they don't last…"
He gave a slight crooked grin, and crushed the rose between his hands. He noticed the child jolt, a small gasp escaping their lips from his actions. Surprised. A bit of a sad look in their eyes. But, it didn't last as John opened his hands again. A lollipop with a red wrapper now was held in his hand, now holding it out to the child. Their eyes wide in surprise, attention focused on the candy now in front of them.
Kids like candy, right? Easy.
"But candy? Probably not good with how long they last, but ah! Who cares, right?" John shrugged his shoulders and held it out to them. "I can do a whole lot more than just that, kiddo. Here. Candy's all yours…"
The child's attention shifted to John for a moment, then back to the candy in his hands. Their hand was slow. Cautious. Eyes flickering between John and the candy like he would rip it away from them any moment. He thought about it, truthfully, but he had to be good here! Had to gain a bit of the child's trust. But what John hadn't expected for was that when the child grabbed the lollipop from his hand, their hand briefly touching his, was that John felt overcome with something dark.
He couldn't stop himself from stiffening. As if someone just shot icy water into his veins. A presence heavily pressing into him. Like gravity was beginning to press him into the ground. Briefly he stared at the child, and one moment he was staring at their face, and the next it was like they weren't there. Their body overcome by shadow, all details hidden. As black as night itself. Where their eyes should be on their head was replaced with eyes that weren't their own.
They were red and orange in color. Rings wrapped around each other. And it wasn't just one set of eyes he was staring at, oh no. It was six. One set where a normal person's should be, but it was far larger than any human's eyes could be. The other set a little higher, placed more on each temple of their head instead. And lastly, the last set was one the side of their head. Each eyeball shifting, moving in various directions. Until suddenly, they all blinked in unison, and suddenly all stared at him.
It happened for just a few seconds.
John couldn't help the stifled gasp that escaped him, body jolting at the sudden shift. The weight was gone. The child took the candy from his hand, not touching him anymore. He quickly figured that their hand leaving his disconnected the strange image he saw. Although the icy feeling in his veins were gone, they still felt like they had been there. Like a ghost lingering beneath his skin. The weight that he had felt was gone, but his body ached as if it had been there. It happened so face that he almost questioned if it had been real.
If John was certain of one thing, it was that he was definitely sober now.
He tried to clear his throat. Trying to remind himself that he was in front of a child and trying not to scare them. Even though they scared the shit out of him just now. As he lifted his head again he tried to smile. Tried, being the key word. Trying to hide how shaken he had been from that event. But it was only when the child caught his eye did he pause.
They were biting their lip again. That nervous tick. Eyes staring intensely at his. Like they were waiting to see what he would say or do. John simply exhaled, the noise he was certain was audible to everyone even though he didn't mean it, about to stand up and excuse himself for a moment. That need for a cigarette growing in his throat more and more.
'…Don't tell them…'
How could he not jump at the sudden intrusion of a voice in his head? One that was certainly not his, and one that he was uncertain if it was really the child's or not. It came like a whisper, like someone said it hushed into his ear. It made his skin grow bumps, hair standing on their very ends.
This wasn't normal.
This wasn't magic.
This was Supernatural entirely.
John stared at the child for a moment. Not realizing he had been holding his breath until he reminded himself to breathe. He snapped himself out of it and looked away. He needed a moment. He needed to distance himself. Needed a chance to regain his thoughts. In a quick motion he stood up at his full height, gave the kid a smile (a terrible one really), and quickly separated himself from them.
"Stay put. Don't go anywhere…" He instructed the child as he turned his back to them.
"John…?" Zatanna softly called, but he didn't catch it right away.
John shoved his hands back into his pockets and briskly made his way to the other side of the cave. Hands fidgeting. He could feel his brow twitching. The buzz he felt from the alcohol was gone now. Unfortunately sober, and now on edge. He kept his back to them all, not daring to turn around as he felt his mind racing.
'Demon? Maybe. Spirit? Unlikely. An entity of some sort? Maybe, but what?' John's mind raced as he pondered to himself. 'Voices in another's mind, feeling the pressure of weight, feeling as if splashed with water—Haunting? No, not quite. Demon would be burning. Fire-like. Searing. This was cold. Not blistering cold, but fuckin' cold. Not quite corpse cold, but I don't know if I could call it living—'
"John?"
The man jolted, almost biting his tongue from the curse words he wanted to spew as he felt something touch his back. He spun around, realizing it was Zatanna who had called to him and touched his back. John lifted his hands and rubbed his face, letting out a muffled groan as he told himself to get it together.
"Hey, are you okay?" Zatanna asked again, her hand gently on his arm. A part of him hated how much it secretly grounded him. "What happened back there?"
The words the voice had echoed in his head flashed in his mind again. As much as John wanted to spill, as much as he wanted to tell her, he hesitated. There was no doubt in his mind now that this was something occult. That this was something odd, and strange, and something that maybe even Zatanna couldn't handle. The mere thought of her dealing with whatever that was made him worried. John didn't want Zatanna even touching whatever that thing was.
And as he glanced over his shoulder, looking back as where they had previously been, he spotted the child. Still in the chair. Looking to Batman as he seemed to be saying something soft to them, before he stood up and was making his way over. The child stayed in place, staring. Looking back at John.
He hated the way his heart was hammering in his chest right now.
"Sorry…" He murmured as he didn't look Zatanna in the eye. "Just had to step away. Had to… Had to gather my thoughts."
"Did they do something again?" Batman's asked. It surprised John. He got here faster than he expected.
"No, no…" John shook his head, lying like he breathed. "Just needed a breather. Had to work my thoughts together…"
John didn't know why he lied.
Why he did it so easily. For a moment he thought about telling them. About saying what he saw. But if this was as dangerous as he was thinking, if even Zatanna was saying this was something powerful and old, then John couldn't risk that. More than anything, John wanted to figure out what it was. There was no mistaking the supernatural-ness of it. How his Occult knowledge was tingling with anticipation. How he so badly wanted to piece it all together.
He couldn't tell them all of it.
So, instead, John steeled himself. He forced himself together and spun around to face them. Zatanna's eyebrows shot up in surprise, both her and Batman staring at him in anticipation and confusion. John tried to ignore the way his hands were shaking by shoving them into his pockets, hoping to hide the fear he felt at the mere idea of what he's come up with.
"Batsy, I'll be takin' that paycheck." John stated calmly. "The child clearly has some sort of magic going on with them. I think I can figure it out."
"Wait, really?" Zatanna asked him. "Are… Are you sure about this, John? I mean, they're just a kid…"
"Yeah," he lied. Even he sounded terrible to his own ears. But he had to keep going. "I'll take 'em in. You said they didn't have a family, right? One less thing to worry about…"
"Constantine, this isn't just some pet," Batman said firmly with narrowed white eyes. "They're a child. A person. Yes, you can teach them magic and control, but they need to be taught normal things as well. Like school, and a degree."
"That's what your pretty paychecks will be for," John stated as he raised a brow at Batman. "I'm not takin' them fully. Nooo way. I can teach them things. I'm willing to figure out what needs to be done to help them. But, I'm not keepin' them the whole time. I can't exactly do my job with a child slowin' me down…!"
"Wait, I'm confused," Zatanna waved her hands back and forth as she gave John a look. "You want to teach them, but you don't want to house them? Is that what I'm understanding?"
John paused. That fear clutching at his throat again. Making his stomach coil into knots. Making him say things that not even he fully understands.
"I, uh… No?" He shrugged, his mind having a hard time connecting everything.
Batman let out a disgruntled sound. Low and brooding, like he was. His eyes not exactly on John, but seeming to look elsewhere. "…It wasn't my intention to house them, but if it comes down to it, then fine. But I expect you, Constantine, to stay here and regularly help them with training. I will hold you to it."
"Hold on now," Zatanna cut in as she gave each of them a look. "No offense, but if this is a magic business like John confirmed, then why don't I take the child? If they're so worried about staying in one place, I never am. I'm constantly traveling on shows, I can teach them magic—" She then flashed that signature show smile at Batman. "Especially if I had a wealthy patron helping pay for services…"
"No!" John exclaimed.
Even he jumped at the sound of his own voice.
Batman and Zatanna stared at him, confusion written all over their faces. John couldn't blame them. He couldn't explain why he was so adamant, either. Well, a part of him could. He didn't want Zatanna dealing with the child. He didn't want to risk that with her. He just couldn't. The thought of him putting her in danger, again, for who knows how many times now? John wasn't sure he could stomach the thought of any harm happening to her.
"I can do it on my own just fine, thank you." John stated firmly. "Just, maybe like a summer camp thing every now and then? You got kids, right, Batsy? We can create a play-date or somethin'…"
"Constantine. Is there something your not telling us?" Batman asked, eyes narrowed again.
John scoffed at him, trying to keep himself from spilling the truth. Of all people he had to hide a secret from, it had to be from that nosy Bat. So, John's response was to be offended. Hand on his chest and all, creating a scene to distract and disinterest the brooding blob of darkness.
"Who do you take me for? A weasel?" John asked him, giving him a look. "I'm hurt. An 'ere I thought you trusted me for once, Bats. Have you no shame in questioning colleagues?"
"Not when I have probably cause to ask the very questions," Batman answered firmly.
Eyes narrowed. Daring to even take a step forward into John's space to intimidate him. The damn bastard. John wanted to curse him out. Of all people who he had to deal with, it had to be the supposed "World's Greatest Detective"! He'd love to blab the truth and be over with it. Run away back to his normal life, without a child, and go back to being free and doing whatever he wanted.
But he couldn't. Not now.
He was invested to learn more from the child, now. No matter what it took, he wanted to figure out just what was causing this supernatural occurrences.
"We're getting nowhere like this," Zatanna sighed and shook her head disapprovingly at them. "Let's have a vote, then. Why don't we ask the kid ourselves who they'd rather be with. Once they pick, we can figure the rest out later."
John's head snapped in her direction. He couldn't believe what she suggested. Normally, John was tell them to figure it out. To take the kid and have him dust his hands and be done. But, again, that fear of Zatanna becoming hurt because of him. Because of withholding information. He just couldn't risk it. Especially with how she turned without another word, making her way to the child before anyone could agree.
John looked back at Batman for a moment, a shared moment of eye contact. Even John felt like they mentally shook hands for a truce of some sort before the both of them turned to follow after her. They both quickly caught up with Zatanna, who easily put on that show face to the child. Hiding whatever frustration she may have been feeling before. Not at all showing it with how she spoke with them or looked.
"Hey! We were all having such a fun discussion, that now we're kinda at a stand still," Zatanna said as she spoke gently with the child. Tone sounding almost playful, like she was giving them a show. "All of us really want to help you. But, none of us know who would be the best person to really help. I know this is all kinda scary, and sudden, but who would you want to be with to help teach you how to control your powers?"
The child stared at her, looking almost bewildered and lost. "Control… My powers?"
"Yeah!" Zatanna nodded. "As heroes, we can do a lot more than protect people. We can actually show you a way to help you gain more control. Even if you don't want to be a hero, that's okay, too. We just want to help you control those powers of yours. So you don't have to be so scared anymore."
The child took a moment to register her words. They were quiet, staring at their lap in thought. That nervous tick of biting their lip present, hand still holding the lollipop that John gave them. John felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest. His patience very thin in this moment, almost antsy to what they would pick.
"I can… I don't have to be a hero?" The child asked softly.
"Nope! Not if you don't want to," Zatanna shook her head. "I'll be honest with you. Being with us does call for certain… difficulties. We are heroes, and some people know us better than others. Batman, for instance, is very popular. Me? I'm more average on the scale of heroes. As for John, he's a bit unknown. But, a hero nonetheless." Zatanna shrugged her shoulders. "Even if you pick one of us, everyone here will still do their part in helping you out. We all want to see you succeed in controlling your powers. But…"
"We have our own duties to fulfill." Batman stated. Impatient as ever.
John kept his mouth shut. Figured it was best to save the commentary for later.
"Right," Zatanna nodded. "We can't all be together helping you at the same time. So, we've decided to let you pick. One of us will take care of you like a guardian, and actively we will chip in with helping you and your powers."
"But…" The child seemed hesitant, a worried expression on their face. "…But it's dangerous."
"We deal with danger everyday, kid," John couldn't help but say. Feeling exasperated at the child's resistance.
"But we won't let any harm come to you," Batman was quick to add, giving John a side glare.
The blond man avoided his gaze, feeling the weight of it be heavier than it has been all evening. John never claimed to be good with kids. What should the Bat expect?
"All of us swear to take good care of you," Zatanna spoke gently. Her tone was so gentle it even surprised John. "…We want to help you, Y/N. With whatever it takes. You can choose whoever you want to go with. The decision's yours."
With his heart pounding, all the magician could wonder, was what decision would the child make?
.
CALCULATING . . .
. . . THE CHOICE IS YOURS . . .
Relationship with ??Ella??: Neutral
Relationship with the Heroes of Gotham: Wary
Relationship with the Magician: Concerned
Relationship with the HellBlazer: Cautious
The Cult is Catching Up…
YOUR ACTIONS AFFECT THE FATE OF THE STORY
Your Choice Matters