sylph_fics | new fic: Gift or Curse? (Or Both?)

This is the first piece of that crackfic I mentioned last night. I can't say it's all merfilly's fault, but a lot of it is!

Title: Gift, or Curse? (Or Both?)
Fandom: DC comics
Characters: Batman, Jason Blood, Dr. Fate
Continuity: Umm... pre IdC. pre War Games. pre Dick's apartment blowing up and him leaving the force. early Titans and Outsiders.
Rating: G (wtf?)
Summary: The oddest things happen to Bruce around Jason.

"..up. Batman, wake up now!"

The voice over dazed ears was familiar, strident and urgent, commanding.... //Who is...?// His head was pounding, nausea in his throat, and everything hurt.

"Now, Batman!" Deep voice, male, tight with controlled emotion....

//Jason.// Few people dared order him, and of those that did, only Jason sounded so--and if Blood was under that kind of strain, he had best listen.

"I'm awake, Jason..." //My voice is wrong...// Even though he had tightened his vocal cords to the Bat's tone, it had come out wrong... Uneasy, he struggled to open his eyes. His vision swam for several moments before coming into focus.

"Welcome back," Jason's voice was just to his left and up, and he looked towards him, seeing lines of unusual strain and concern.

"Jason, wh--" he stopped, cleared his throat, and tried again. "What is it?" //I still don't sound right.// He shifted to sit up--and the suit felt off... loose over his arm, not fitted right at the shoulder...

"Old friend, something has happened. I fear my attempt to shield you has caused a greater harm..."

"Don't mince words, Jason," he snapped--then stilled at the tone of his own voice. He remembered sounding like that, saying those same words... //Oh, no.//

"I am not. I'm not certain, yet, though I grow more so by the moment. Our foe is vanquished, let us go and see the truth of this."

That simple sentence threw the events of the last two days back into sharp focus. First, the realization that there was a sorcerer working within and outside of Gotham--and when would they learn to stay out of his city--to his request for Jason's aid and the difficult if short hunt for the sorcerer, to the beginning of the fight between them, a blaze of dark light coming towards him and Jason's voice spellcasting, blocking it even as it struck him... then nothing. He nodded carefully and shifted to stand--then frowned as the entirety of the armor settled out-of-place, off-kilter, hollow through the chest, thigh, even the calves... //Too large...//

He bit back the soft hiss as he moved in the ill-fitted suit, allowing Jason's assistance as they left the battlefield for first the Car, then Jason's residence. Had he still had doubts that something was very wrong, the very act of settling into the Car would have erased them... now the only question was how far they spread. The drive finished, he rejoined Jason within his sanctum after a few moments, the armor even more uncomfortable during the brief flight. With all lines of sight closed, he pushed back the cowl, looking at Jason through narrowed eyes.

"Good God."

"Jason..." When he was willing to upset Etrigan by that oath, things were never good.

"Look in the mirror behind you, Bruce..."

He turned, slowly... and an annoyed Latin vulgarity spilled from his lips as he took in the sight. Almost all of the lines of stress and worry had fallen away, along with some of the breadth of his jaw, and his hair fell longer and with more wave than he had worn in years. His eyes burned dark with anger due to the situation, but he kept his voice calm with a struggle as he studied further details with hard eyes. "How many years do you think I've lost, Jason?"

"Look at me again." He turned his head, looking over his shoulder. Jason's eyes were dark as he studied him. "Ten at the least, Bruce, though I would tend more towards fifteen or sixteen, given how very much you resemble the young man that first came to me to learn the ways of magic..."

Bruce nodded. "That's what I thought. Were I evaluating my own age... I would say nineteen. Possibly twenty. Can you reverse it, Jason?"

The mage shook his head. "I can attempt. That armor must be uncomfortable in the extreme. I believe I have such a thing as a robe, a moment." He disappeared, and returned a few moments later with a heavy, dark gray robe. "Here."

Bruce nodded once, and stripped out of the suit, frowning as he noticed that the majority of his scars were gone... though the ones he still had, he remembered vividly, training-marks, all of them--//dear god. Jason, fix this.//

Wrapped in the heavy fabric, he settled where Jason had indicated, and watched as he began to study the spell. The mystic gestures were half-familiar, recalled sharply from early lessons... While he waited, he worked at the underlying armor, attempting to make it fit at least somewhat better when he was forced to place it on again.

...and it was quite some time before Jason stopped, and looked at him with a sigh of defeat. "I cannot. Were I to attempt to undo the protection I placed, the original spell would take effect, and I know not if I could stop it before you were returned to infancy or aged to senility. Quite a nasty bit of magic, and one I shall remember. Zatanna would have no more luck, the two spells have conjoined, her brute-force approach could only do more harm than good. Dr. Fate might be capable of setting things as they ought to be, if you are willing to have him see you so..."

"I have little choice, Jason. This... is hardly tolerable. I appear younger than Dick."

"Only slightly," Jason replied, and Bruce could not see any reaction more than that in the careful stillness of his face. "I can contact Fate, if you wish. If you remember Dick, your memories must be safe..."

Bruce nodded once. "I will go to his Tower. I know you prefer not to allow others within your domain." He paused, thinking on that. "They... seem mostly to be." Some things were clouded, but it was not as if they had been removed. He still knew his allies, and enemies.

"Unnecessary, Bruce. I can tolerate Fate's presence, given the situation. Let me speak with him."

While Jason went to contract Fate, Bruce pulled the suit back on, leaving the cowl down. He refused to be seen by one of the lords of magic in a robe and his underwear. It still fit poorly, but the alterations had helped.

Silence between the two of them was still comfortable, fortunate with the length of time it took for Fate to arrive. Jason went to let him in, and Bruce listened through the half-open sanctum door.

"Rare for you to call me, Blood."

"There's a problem, one I hope you can assist in solving. I have done all that I can."

"This problem is?"

"Within. This way." Jason walked back through the door, Fate following... and the helmed man stopped in shock barely within the doorway. "Batman?"

"Fate." If he was very careful, he could sound like himself.

"..Definitely you. What has occurred? You have lost several years."

Jason spoke, explaining the situation and what he had attempted in phrases Bruce was familiar with from those studies, but still did not fully understand. Fate shook his head as Jason finished. "Let me study this."

It was some time before he came out of the almost trance, and Bruce had felt traces of magic sliding along his skin. "There is nothing to be done, Batman. Jason was correct, the mixture of the attacking and defensive spells makes it... most unwise to attempt further meddling. I regret it, however it is best to prod at it with no more magic, lest..."

"The chance of either outcome is not worth the risk, agreed," Bruce finished the trailed-off thought, and some measure of his frustration must have crossed his face as Fate spoke again.

"Batman, consider this... it is not everyone that receives such an extension to their lifespan. The youth may be inconvenient at first... but your city has been gifted with her protector's strong arm for many more years. I urge you to consider it a gift, not such a curse."

The Bat considered that, and finally nodded once. "Not without merit," he finally said. He was far from taking this setback with anything resembling good grace, but it was wise to listen to what Dr. Fate had to say.

"Be well," Fate said to both of them, then quietly left.

Jason just looked at him in the wake of Fate's departure, as if even the Demon was at a loss for words. "Bruce, I..."

"Don't, Jason. I'll deal with this. I'm alive, at least, and have you to thank for it. It's going to be trouble... but I'll manage." //I don't want to do this again, being a teenager was frustrating enough the first time...//

"Yes, I suppose you will. It's what you're best at. Be safe, Bruce."

He snorted softly. Jason knew better. Farewells done, he too left. //Alfred is not going to take this well... Let alone Tim, when he returns from the Titans--and oh, good lord. Dick's reaction, when he learns...//

So, should I bother continuing?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

hockeyiris.livejournal.com

I vote to continue!

Oh, Brucie.

At least you didn't make him a five year old... (like I did)

I'm intrigued.

I can't WAIT to see how Tim and Dick and Alfred react.

I'd say more, but I'm about to ditch out of work.

From:

new fic: Gift or Curse? (Or Both?)

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