Drowning in Dreams
Chapter 1
After apprehending an unconscious Red Hood, Batman is thrown into strange dreams one after another. Why is he dreaming about Jason, how dose it relate to the Red Hood, and what is the green eyed monster hunting him in his dreams.
Batman arrived on the scene after reports of the up-and-coming crime lord, the Red Hood, was spotted engaging with an unknown assailant. He arrived and saw a man who appeared to be the Red Hood, seemingly unconscious in a back alley near the docks. After approaching, Batman confirms that the man is unresponsive but alive, there are no apparent wounds, and while scuffed, he is in the full Red Hood regalia. Batman assesses if he can remove the helmet on scene, to get started on a positive ID, but finds no latching system on the helmet; there are seams where the helmet comes together, but he can not locate the mechanism by which the blasted thing opens up.
Batman pulls out a portable scanner to get a better idea of the mechanics at play, but the readings are shocking. They indicate that the helmet itself is some manner of incendiary device. The whole situation is suspicious; it's looking less like he got extremely lucky in apprehending the mysterious Red Hood, and more like this new rogue is playing with him by dressing some poor sap up and strapping a bomb to his head for Batman to explode. Luckily, according to the field scanner's readings, there seems to be no remote trigger, and the only way for the device to go off is the removal of the helmet.
Batman gently hoists up the potential victim into a fireman carry; this guy is nearly as big as Bruce himself, and carries him to where he has the Batmobile parked. While the scanner didn’t pick up any trackers or bugs, just to be sure, he turns on a faraday cage in the Boatmobile's back seat. This should also prevent a remote detonation, just in case there is a remote trigger on the bomb. He handcuffs the man and does a preliminary search for concealed weapons and gadgets, which he finds a disturbing amount of. Whoever dressed this guy up really wanted to sell the illusion that this was the Red Hood. Bruce would almost believe it was, if not for the bomb strapped to the guy’s head. He secures all of the weapons in an evidence box. The man does not stir at all through the entire process; whatever sedative he’s been given must be strong stuff. If it weren't for the guy’s steady breathing, Bruce would be more concerned about his unresponsiveness. Hopefully, the helmet’s filtration system isn't reliant on battery power, he doesn't know how long it's going to take to get the thing off him.
After making sure the ‘victim’ is secured and restrained in the back of the Batmobile, Batman begins the drive back to the Batcave. If it weren't for the bomb, Bruce would have been fine just dropping the guy off with the GCPD, or a hospital if it turns out the guy is more hurt than he seems, but with how advanced the incendiary device wrapped around his head is, the only place with the specialized tools to remove it is the Batcave.
“Agent A,” Batman says into his comms, “I am bringing in an unknown John Doe back to the cave, have the medbay prepped and secrecy measures in place.”
“Details about the John Doe, Sir.” Alfred's even voice replies.
“Male, six feet tall, two hundred plus pounds, and muscular, dressed in the Red Hood’s gear, helmet and all. He is unresponsive but seemingly uninjured.” Bruce relays.
“That description sounds a lot like the Red Hood, Sir.” Alfred responds incredulously, “ Why is it you're sure this is some John Doe and not the Red Hood?”
“On account of the incendiary device installed in the helmet,” Bruce says sternly, slightly put off by Alfred’s attitude. “I believe he is a random victim or, at the very least, a betrayed co-conspirator who has been rigged up for some sort of sick game. We know that the current Red Hood has some sort of fascination with heads. I believe the bomb is set to go off if I improperly remove the helmet.”
“That is quite gruesome, indeed.” Alfred said, voice sounding a touch sad, “I’ll prepare the blast shields and the bomb defusal equipment.”
“Also set up a cell with a medical bed and IVs. I would prefer for him to be conscious and aware when we remove the device, we don’t want him jolting awake mid defusal.” Bruce adds.
“That would be catastrophic.” Alfred agrees.
“We currently don’t have any way to know how long he’ll be out for, and as we don’t have access to his head, we will need to keep him hydrated medically till we get him out of the helmet.” Bruce continues.
“I am preparing the supplies now, Sir.” Alfred pauses. “Should I call Nightwing in from the field?”
“No, have him continue looking for any signs of the actual Red Hood, the man likes to talk. If Nightwing runs into him, he might give us some more insight into what he intended with John Doe,” Bruce says.
“Certainly, Sir, I’ll relay your orders to Nightwing,” Alfred replies. “If that's all, I’ll go prepare for your return.”
“That’s all for now, I’ll be there shortly,” Bruce says as he turns off his com and continues his approach towards the cave.
A short time later, the Batmobile rolls into the Batcave, and Alfred is already waiting, domino affixed. He helps Bruce unload the John Doe and carry him to the medbay for evaluation. They first reassess his physical state; he is still unresponsive and seemingly unconscious. His vitals are steady and he doesn't seem to be in any immediate medical danger, bomb strapped to his head notwithstanding.
“We should remove his gear,” Bruce suggests,” I want to analyze it to see if we can figure out Red Hood’s supplier. Additionally, in case this guy is Hood’s co-conspirator, I'd like for him to be fully disarmed.”
Bruce and Alfred strip John Doe. The outer layers come off easily enough with the metal-plated boots and gloves, along with his biker jacket. But when they get to his belt to get his cargo pants off, they run into their first hiccup: the psycho has the belt booby trapped as well. After locating the release on the belt, they get his pants off. Leaving him in a gray Kevlar under suit, the zippers are a bit hard to find but are blessedly without traps; it would have been annoying to have to cut the guy out of such tight fighting fabric. John Doe is now stripped to his boxers and helmet; he’s still unresponsive and limp despite his body reacting to the temperature shift.
Speaking of his body, while not many of the injuries are recent, John Doe has several healing bruises and small cuts across his body, and the guy is absolutely riddled with scars. The most shocking is the apparent vivisection the guy lived through, if the long Y-shaped mark going from his collar bones to under his boxers is anything to go by. Life has not been kind to John Doe. His most recent injuries are some couple of hours old electrical burns, perhaps from a taser, and some swelling across his back, seemingly from when he was deposited in the alley shortly before Bruce picked him up; his whole back is going to be bruised pretty badly.
After cataloging his injuries, they dress him in a medical gown and start doing a blood draw. They need to know what's in his system so they can predict when he’ll be waking up. Additionally, Bruce is running his DNA through the system to see if they can get a positive ID on the guy. They run some more advanced scans on the helmet and find that the inner layer closest to the face is lined with lead, the bomb itself seems to be just enough C4 to blow his head and whoever removes it’s hands up. The scans show them where the removal mechanism should be, but damage to that portion of the helmet makes accessing the latch impossible. The good news is that there doesn't seem to be any sort of timer attached to the bomb; the bad news is that the wiring is pretty intricate and will be delicate to defuse. For now, they move him to the holding cell and get him set up for overnight observation, hooking him up on a saline drip to keep him hydrated. As a precaution, they cuff him to the bed, so he doesn't try to remove the helmet without their assistance.
While waiting for the results, Bruce begins writing up a report about the incident.
A while later, Nightwing comes in from patrol. He didn’t run back into Red Hood after his initial run-in with him at the start of the night, hours before Hood was witnessed by the docks.
“Heard you picked up a John Doe with a bomb strapped to his head.” Dick starts a slight challenge in his voice. "How'd that work out?”
“The John Doe is disarmed and currently under observation in a holding cell.” Bruce begins, focused on finishing up his report on the Bat computer. "We're holding off on removal of the incendiary device until he’s conscious.”
“Disarmed?” Dick asks, tilting his head.
“The Red Hood, or someone with access to gear that looks convincingly like the Red Hood’s dress John Doe up like the Hood, hidden weapons and all,” Bruce answers, turning to face his ward. “When you faced Red Hood earlier this evening, did you discharge your escrima sticks during the confrontation?”
“Boy did I,” Dick starts with a wry grin on his face. “The guy is a freaking tank, I discharged nearly the whole battery into him, and the dude barely flinched, and just kept going like it was nothing.”
“Where did you hit with the charge?” Bruce's questions become suddenly intense.
“Uh, mostly the arm’s I think, the guy really didn’t let me get any solid contact on his core,” Dick answered sheepishly.
“You’re sure the man you encountered this evening was the same Red Hood we’ve encountered before, correct?” Bruce questioned.
“Yeah, B.” Dick confirms, “It’s pretty hard to mix up such a distinct fighting style, besides not many people out there give us as much of a run for our money as Hood. Ya know? What’s got you so worked up?”
“John Doe has several electrical burns across his arms that are consistent with marks left by a taser,” Bruce says.
“Then isn’t the conclusion pretty simple, Mr.Detective?” Dick states,” The most likely conclusion is that your John Doe is the Hood. Man, I knew he was crazy, but to put a bomb in that helmet of his is some real psycho stuff.”
“Hn,” Bruce sighs. “We’ll figure it out when he wakes up. After we get that helmet off of him, we can ship him to the authorities. For now, write up a report about the confrontation, and hit the showers. Are you spending the night?”
“Nah, I’ve got work tomorrow, so when I finish up here I’m heading back home, to Blud.”
“This will always be your home,” Bruce says in a serious tone.
Dick sighs, “You know what I meant.”
“Just be safe. Ok.”
“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya.” Dick waves off.
After Dick rolls out and Alfred goes off to bed, Bruce is left alone in the cave waiting for the results on John Doe’s blood tests. The man hasn’t seemed to have woken up in the meantime. The toxicology comes back clean; there are no known substances in his blood causing the unconsciousness. It’s concerning, to say the least. The helmet is scuffed, but the damage doesn't seem to be enough to indicate head trauma. But who knows what state he's in underneath? In the morning, he’ll have Alfred run an EKG and other tests to rule out if the cause is being tased multiple times by Nightwing’s escrima sticks. The other blood work also comes back within acceptable levels, the only thing of note being slight dehydration, which is already being taken care of.
Bruce is at a loss on how to proceed. If John Doe doesn't regain consciousness within twenty-four hours, he’ll go through with the helmet removal regardless of his consciousness. For now, he’ll wail for the rapid DNA test before heading off to bead himself. As he sits in front of the Bat computer, his mind begins to drift as he enters a light doze.
He’s brought back to his senses by a strange sound, it's similar to a humming noise at first, but then it morphs into the sound of a crying child. Bruce jumps to his feet and looks around the cave for the source of the sound. There should be no children around. Tim has been sent to Titan’s Tower for his own safety after The Hood made a few too many violent references to what the Joker did to Jason. Additionally, Tim is much too mature and independent to be making such pitiful noises. He doubles back by the Bat computer, and now the noise is coming from underneath the desk, it wasn’t before. He crouches down to take a look and makes eye contact with a domino mask. He freezes and takes a shaky breath. Under the desk is Robin, but it's not Tim; this Robin is much too small to be a 15-year-old. Besides Tim doesn't wear elbow and knee pads, but Jason does, or did, Jason did.
Bruce’s knees go weak, and under the desk is unmistakable Jason. Bruce takes a deep breath, glancing over across the way, in the direction of the memorial case, it's still there, the suit Jason died in is still there. Not that the child is in the suit his son died in, the child under the desk is much smaller than the 14-year-old who died nearly three years ago. Had Jason ever been this small in reality, if he had, it would have been when he first became Robin. That is, if this were reality, because it's not, because Jason is dead, and this must be a dream, or a fear toxin hallucination. At the very least, it’s not real; the child under the desk isn’t real.
As the pitiful cries die down into whimpers, and as more time passes staring into those big doe eyes of the Robin under the desk, he begins to care less and less about what’s real and what’s not.
“Lad, what’s wrong?” Bruce shuffles closer to Robin and holds out his hand. "What's got you so spooked you're hiding under the desk?”
“Wah,” The child cries. “Buh, B I’m scared, I don’t want him to find me.”
The child rushes into Bruce’s arms, and Bruce lets out his own pained whine. Even if it's a dream, he hates to see his son so scared.
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here, you're safe now.” He says the words he wishes he could say to the real Jason.
“Noo, he’s going to get me, and I’m going to drown again,” Robin says as he buries himself in Bruce's hold.
“No one’s here, but me and you're safe, I promise.” He found the mention of drowning strange, Jason hadn’t drowned and had no association with it.
There was a crashing noise from the direction of the holding cells. Bruce, still holding Robin, stood up and checked the security cameras in the holding cell that was meant to be holding the restrained John Doe, but instead was a fully kitted Red Hood. The medical bed was gone, and Hood paced the cell like a caged animal, periodically throwing himself at the clear wall. The crashing noise was him banging his head against the wall; it was a disturbing sight. Hopefully, the banging wouldn't trigger the bomb; luckily, C4 is relatively stable, if not, Hood would have already blown his head off. Just to be safe, Bruce pressed a button to release knockout gas into the cell. He then directed his attention back towards the shivering child in his grasp.
“See, look, it's okay,” he said, directing Robin’s attention to the security feed. “The bad man is safely contained, you're going to be okay, Lad.”
“No, no, no,” Robin shook his head, “He’s in danger too, the monster is going to get him too.”
“Lad, look at me.” Bruce made eye contact with Robin.” What monster, what do you think is coming for you?”
“The green-eyed monster,” Robin replied, “He’s going to drown him, then he’ll drown me too.”
An alarm went off in the holding areas when Bruce looked back up at the footage. The cell that housed the Red Hood was quickly filling up with glowing green water. By the time Bruce put in the command to open the cell, Hood had already been floating face down in the water, still unconscious from the knockout gas. The child in Bruce’s grip resumed sobbing, repeating that he's going to drown over and over. Movement on another camera catches his eye, in some dark, nondescript part of the cave, a figure clad in tattered robes and dirty bandages shuffles by the camera, glancing up at it with its glowing green eyes, Bruce can’t make himself look away from its glowing eyes.
Something else dings on the computer. The DNA test for John Doe is complete; he’s a match for Jason Todd. That can’t be, Jason has been dead for nearly three years. Jason is the bawling child in his arms. Movement on another camera catches his eye; the green water that drowned Hood is filling up the Bat Cave. He checks more cameras. The water is filling up faster and faster; it's already up to his knees. He should get up and take Jason out of here; they need to run, but by whatever logic runs the dream he can’t move from this seat. It’s a dream, he knows it's a dream, he knew it was a dream from the moment he made eye contact with Jason, God let it just be a dream. Jason’s pleas have quieted; the water is past his waist now. Jason is so cold and barely breathing. Bruce looks back at the monitors, and they've all shut down, and in their reflection, he can see it, the monster's green eyes stare back at him. The water is so high now, he lifts Jason’s head higher up his shoulder, he’s so cold and still. He can't look away from the eyes reflected on the screen, staring back at him. The water covers his head, all he can see is green, he can’t breathe, he's drowning.
Bruce jolts awake to the sound of the Bat computer alerting him that John Doe’s DNA test is done. Bruce gasps for air, the drawing feeling from the dream following him back to reality. After calming down he checks the camera in John Doe’s cell, the man is still unconscious and restrained to the medical bed, the only change is that the heart rate monitor shows that his heart's beating a little hard, but not to an alarming degree, Bruce briefly muses that perhaps the man is also dreaming, hopefully it's not as bad as the dream Bruce just had. Bruce checks the results of the actual DNA test and is frustrated to see that it came up as inconclusive.
He gets up and goes to the lab station where the equipment for running the blood tests is, and sets up another test, this one will take longer than a few hours, but is more likely to have reliable results. It should be finished by the time he wakes up. Bruce gets changed out of the Bat suit and takes a quick shower. The water going down the drain almost looks green in the dim light; it’s just a trick of the mind.
Bruce finishes up in the locker room and checks one last time that John Doe’s vitals are stable before going back up to the manor for a good night's rest in his own bed.
AO3 Link