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Chapter Seventeen: Resolve

Dick slept for days.

Bruce refused to leave his side, holding his hand as he went through all the symptoms of withdrawal; the night terrors, the tremors, the nausea. The boy was delirious most of the time, eyes glazed over and distant, untold horrors playing behind their surfaces. Bruce refused to leave him, rage growing inside of his chest with every passing hour. He had allowed this to happen. He had allowed his son to be taken away–essentially allowed him to be tortured–for a crime he wasn't even guilty of.

And the entire time, Bruce had just sat, staring out the window like a forlorn widow, waiting uselessly, while all these atrocities occurred. His parents would be so ashamed. How could he have let them down so completely?

Bruce narrowed his eyes as Dick cried out in his sleep.

No more.

"Bruce?" A voice whispered into the darkness. Bruce turned to the door, where Clark Kent stood, his back hunched over and arms tucked into his sides, in a futile attempt to appear smaller.

"Clark." Bruce replied, motioning for the man to come closer.

The Kryptonian took a few quiet steps into the room, eyes locked onto Dick's sleeping form; warring emotions playing across his face as his mind ran in circles. Bruce knew what he was feeling; he knew the turmoil and the pain curling around in his gut at the sight of the boy. Clark's eyes snapped to the bruises on Dick's arms, his expression darkening as he realized what they were from. Nervously, the Kryptonian ran a hand over his own arms, the scars hidden beneath another long-sleeved sweater.

Silence reined for too long.

"Did you go see Connor?" Bruce asked, his voice hanging abruptly in the air.

"Yes." Clark replied, snapping out of his thoughts, his anger fading away as the subject switched to his clone. "He made a deal with Lex to free Dick..."

"What?" Bruce demanded, narrowing his eyes. "Clark–"

"We talked about it, Bruce...Lex seemed to be treating him well. It was his choice."

"Luthor lies." Bruce snapped, his voice laced with venom. He knew that Clark was trusting, but this? Lex had just walked out of the compound, unscathed despite his veritable career in supervillainy. How could Clark turn a blind eye to that? How could Clark trust his archenemy with a child that was practically his son?

Or with any child for that matter?"

"Connor begged me to trust him. I had to. I can't keep ordering him around." The Kryptonian closed his eyes. "He'll only resent me more."

Bruce sighed, shaking his head.

"You need to make sure to check up on him."

"I will, Bruce."

Clark shifted awkwardly, moving to kneel by Dick's bedside, his lips pulled into a frown as the boy thrashed in his sleep, his hand blindly grasping at the air until the Kryptonian took it in his own.

"That modified fear toxin...it's some nasty stuff." Clark whispered, his eyes straying to Dick's arms again. "The hallucinations..."

Silence fell over the room once more, only broken by Dick's labored breathing.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

Eclipse would only continue to toy with their lives, dragging broken spirits and bodies through the mud until nothing of the old heroes were left. Many of them had been allowed freedom, yes, but if Eclipse had attacked unprovoked before, who was to say that they wouldn't do it again?

Bruce's eyes snapped to Clark, who was still kneeling by Dick's bedside, whispering softly in melodic Kryptonian.

How long until Clark was accused of conspiring with aliens, or plotting his way into the Phantom zone? How long until he was a headliner on the news, reported to have been taken away in a white van, or shot full of Kryptonite bullets and left to die?

Then there were all the others...Ollie, and Dinah, and Zatara, and everyone. Why would an organization, so dead-set on leveling the playing field, even let them live? They'd find a way to wipe them out one by one by one...until nothing was left.

Bruce contemplated this only a moment, before steeling his resolve and speaking into the darkness.

"I think I'm ready to see the cave again."


There was something humanizing about having a bed. His entire life, Jaime had taken falling asleep on a vertical, comfortable, surface, for granted; right along with having clothing and books, and fresh air. As he lay on his back, staring at the blaring lights mounted to the ceiling of his cell, he could almost forget the lump nestled between his shoulder blades, and the bulky metal clamped around his throat.

It wasn't long before he felt Khaji-Da start to squirm, its little needle-point legs twitching around in his flesh, silently panicking. Jaime sighed, rolling over onto his stomach, feeling the scarab's relief when it was no longer squished against the mattress.

"For a high-tech piece of alien weaponry, you sure are a scaredy cat."

"I am not a cat." The scarab huffed.

"It's an expression."

"An expression of human stupidity."

Jaime sighed, burying his face in the single, stiff, pillow on his bed, breathing slowly as he tried to fall back asleep. He wanted it to be dark, so he could forget where he was...so he could pretend that he was back home in his own room, with his mother and father and sister right down the hall...

"Your muscles will being to degrade if you continue to sleep so much." The scarab quipped, dragging Jaime away from his memories.

"Stop lecturing me." The boy snapped, covering his ears, despite knowing that it would do him no good.

"You are my host. I am only looking out for ourbest interests."

"There isn't anything else to do here."

It was true. Since the docs had found a functioning collar, his days had been filled with nothing but staring at the wall and bickering with Khaji-Da. He'd expected them to run more tests; to poke and prod at the scarab until the skin of his back bled. But no.

They'd done nothing..

"Then tell me more about earth." Khaji-Da demanded.

Jaime sighed again, sitting up, drawing his knees up to his chest.

"I don't know what else to say."

"Tell me about sleep. Why do you do so much of it? You've already replenished your energy."

Jaime shook his head. That was something that he couldn't explain. Not to something as logical and driven as Khaji-Da. He couldn't explain the comforting feeling of oblivion; of the darkness that would creep in on his mind and push everything away, until he could forget the horror of the waking world...Until he could forget the constant feeling of the alien thing between his shoulders, and push its grating voice out of his mind...if only for a little while.

Until he could dream.

"Tell me." The scarab demanded, digging its legs deeper into his flesh. Jaime flinched, screwing his eyes shut.

"It's because...sometimes when humans sleep, they can see these imaginary scenes in their heads. They're called Dreams...I don't think you'd be able to understand the concept."

"Go on..."

"I had a dream last night..." The boy continued, picturing the scene just as it had played out. "And in it, I was still with my parents, and we were having dinner together. Everything was great." He allowed himself a short chuckle before pressing on, feeling the scarab's irritation at his hesitation. "At one point, I got a call from Batman, and we went out fighting crime together. He just showed up at my window and asked me to help."

Khaji-Da let out a low trill; the scarab version of a scoff.

"That would never happen."

"I know." Jaime continued. "But, when I'm asleep, it can. Anything can."

"What purpose does that serve? It seems illogical."

"I don't know." The boy buried his face in his knees, feeling tears prickling at the edges of his eyes. "All I know is that, when I'm awake, everything's wrong. You shouldn't be here, and I shouldn't be here, and none of this should even be happening. I can just close my eyes, and–"

Jaime stopped mid sentence as the door to his cell opened, and the doc walked in, flanked on both sides by stone-faced orderlies. His blood turned to ice as he froze in place, watching their approach like a deer in the headlights.

"Good afternoon, Blue."

In his mind, Khaji-Da bristled, swearing in a low, guttural language.

Jaime remained silent, his eyes tracking the men as they got closer and closer, wanting to curl up beneath the covers, as if that would protect him at all.

"There's someone who wants to meet you, Blue."

The boy yelped as he was roughly dragged to his feet by one of the orderlies, the metal floor cold beneath his bare feet. In all the months he'd been inside the compound, he'd never left his cell...never. Now, suddenly, everything was changing way too fast, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep up.

"Where are they taking us?"Khaji-Da shrieked.

"I-I don't know." Jaime whispered as softly as he could. However, he still received a sharp tug on his arm, and a gruff reprimand.

"Are you still talking to it?" The doc demanded, his lips pulled down in distaste. "We might have to do something about that."

A feeling of dread rose in Jaime's gut, and he snapped his eyes to the floor, letting himself be led out of his cell, and into the unknown corridors of the compound.


"Which kind do you think Tim'll like?" Billy asked, leaning over the edge of one of the large industrial freezers the resistance kept in their hideout. He sifted through the dozens and dozens of prepackaged tv dinners they had managed to stockpile, contemplating a chicken strip one, before setting it aside, and going for a pulled pork sandwich.

"I don't really care." La'Gann said, with a dismissive wave of his webbed had. "That ri'sojba should starve."

Billy's lips turned into a frown, before he slammed the freezer lid shut, balancing several dinners in one arm. The Atlantean had been at the base for only a week, and already, he was getting on Billy's last nerve. He was loud, obnoxious, and very opinionated. However, it appeared that he wasn't going anywhere, as he and M'gann had really hit it off...somehow.

"He's just a kid."

"There' something wrong with him." The Atlantean scoffed. "His eyes are too old. In Atlantis, that's the sign of..." He fished around for the right word a moment, before continuing, "A cursed one?"

Billy's frown deepened as he started making his way to the stairs, clutching the food to his chest and ignoring the Atlantean as he padded after him.

"He's trying to hunt my people down. He's trying to hunt your people down. How can your forgive that?"

Billy could feel the Captain moving along the edges of his consciousness, tempering his anger as it threatened to boil over.

La'Gann didn't understand how easy it was to give into power. He didn't know how easy it was to lose your way when, suddenly, everything you ever wanted was right within reach. You only had to cross a few moral boundaries on the way–only had to compromise your integrity–and once you did, it was so hard to stop...so hard to go back.

Billy gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. He firmly believed that Tim was a pawn in Eclipse's game; a kid with too much intelligence who just happened to be close enough to catch in their claws. It would take time, but he could be saved...he could be changed.

Billy was looking forward to getting to know the real Timothy Drake.


Every so often, Roy would forget.

There were times when he'd swear that his arm was still there, passing through the air as he gestured, or resting on his mattress as he slept. Sometimes there would be sensation; pain running through imaginary nerves and into his brain. He'd tried explaining it to Ollie, but the man had simply looked at him sadly, before slinking off in his business suit to take care of his failing company. Dinah had been much more helpful, explaining the phenomenon of phantom pain, giving him painkillers that couldn't possibly work on something that wasn't really there.

Still, he kept taking them, sometimes sneaking extra doses from the cabinet; popping pills and emptying syringes into his veins. No one in the manor really paid any attention to him.. He needed a way to distract himself from his memories; a way to escape from the sterile walls closing in on him, and the pitying tone of his caretaker's voices.

It wasn't long before it became a habit...an addiction.

All alone, Roy began his descent into the dark.