Family Ties : A Batfamily Story

Chapter 39

Enjoy and Savor!!!

POV Tim

I haven't slept since we got back from the harbor, but that's nothing new for me. My road rash still burns through the morphine and my ankle was declared as rolled, not sprained. That means instead of crutches I can just use a boot cast to walk, so that's good. But that's about as good as it gets. Dick hasn't said a word since we got back, he has just been perched on a flight of stairs in the bat cave staring into nothing for the past two hours. Babs sits next to him, one of her hands entwined with his. She occasionally glances at me to check if I'm okay, I'm not. Dick, one of the few people who knows me and still loves me, a man I have considered my brother for years, almost killed a man. He always seemed to be so in control, and though he was violent, he always held back. But tonight, that wasn't Dick. That was nothing but pain and grief. It was ugly and scary, I never want to see it again.

Suddenly, the quiet of the cold cave is replaced by a blaring alarm throughout the hollowed carven. I spin around to look at the bright red print on the bat computer "INTRUDER". Babs flashes me a confused glance before leaving Dick's side to run to the computer. Bringing up the security cams, she finds the intruders. A large black van zooms down the back entrance to the Batcave. The only way they got in was with a perfectly placed explosive or a hacker who knows what they're doing. As the van comes into view, Babs, the only one uninjured currently, takes a fighting stance. I'm more curious than worried. If they know how to get into the bat cave then they know who Bruce is. That is a short list of people, most of which are friendly. This person is probably just some leaguer who didn't have time to wait for an invitation or something.

Before the van even comes to a complete stop, the driver jumps from his door. I recognize him immediately. Roy Harper, formerly known as Speedy, now known as Arsenal. He's been missing for the past year, though Dick has been keeping an eye on him for his friend Thea. Lately, though, he has had little to no idea where he was. Until now at least. Babs, recognizing him too, drops her fighting stance.

"Roy?!" Babs exclaims but he ignores her. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"We don't have time for that, Barbra, we have to find Alfred!" He commands without a single explanation, opening the side door to the van.

My eyes go wide as I see what's inside. Jason, his face smeared in blood as once white rags cover serval, no doubt, bullet holes in his body. His raven hair is crusted with the scarlet liquid as is his Red Hood uniform. My mouth goes dry as I take in the horrific sight. I can feel my fingers start to shake as I stumble to my feet.

Babs lets out a small scream as she sees him, waking Dick up from his grief-stricken trance. Eyes filling with urgency, the man sprints towards his brother. His hands waste no time to check for a pulse.

"Babs, get Alfred!" He yells releasing Jason's wrist from his grasp.

Babs, who now is shaking, takes one last look at her brother before running towards the nearest exit. Meanwhile, Dick and Roy lift the unconscious Jason and take him to the med bay, leaving a trail of blood in their wake. I watch in fearful awe as he is carried away. Jason, is all I can seem to think as I try a process what is happening. Jason is hurt. My chest burns with a sick feeling as I try and shake myself awake. I need to focus. Forcing myself forward, I turn the corner to the med bay. Inside, Dick has already grabbed an IV for Jason as Roy presses on a wound scary close to one of his leg's arteries. Roy notices my approach and waves me over.

"Put pressure right here," He says in a stern voice before pushing past me.

I do as he says, laying both my hands on his bloody bandages. I have seen many injuries in my time, we all have, but never this much blood. There is so much blood. The smell of it all spreads through the cave-like perfume till it all reeks of the sour stench. It coats the table that he lies on and the once white bandages that are plaster on him like papier-mache. His face is smeared with it as it covers all his neck and chest. He must have lost three, maybe four litters. That's enough to kill him. If he losses five he's going to die. I don't want anyone else to die.