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When one Jason Todd had returned from the dead as the Red Hood he was a walking disastrous nuclear bomb of a mess. Yes, he was well aware that was an understatement but at least he was willing to admit it. It had taken several months for the crime lord to rise and fall and the vigilante to rise. It had taken a lot of work and effort but he did make it. It was a long road that would take several more years to get from the angry confused Jason Todd, the Red Hood known for his twitchy trigger finger to Jason Todd-Wayne, Red Hood and constant member of the ‘Bat Fam’ as Dick and Duke had dubbed them. They had all tried to ignore Dick’s insistence to use modern slang and his own brand of made up words but much to most of their outward chagrin and inward warmth, that one had stuck. They had let him have that one. It just wasn’t worth the argument because if it wasn’t that, there was no doubt it was going to end up something even stupider.
Jason was sitting at the marble topped island in the kitchen at 2 am with a book in front of him and Tim typing away at a laptop on the other side of the room, a heavy mug of coffee in front of him. It was quickly approaching Tim’s sibling-imposed limit of how many days he was allowed to stay awake and it was Jason’s turn to have the tranquilizers ready in case Timmy decided to cause them problems, especially with his boyfriend off planet. It had taken an embarrassing amount of time for anyone to get their heads out of their asses enough to realize how much of a problem it was becoming especially after Dick had made it back home at last. Dick had finally put his foot down after Tim had fallen asleep mid leap off the highest most gargoyle of Wayne tower in Gotham for three actual seconds. If Conner hadn’t been coming by already to see him they would have lost him for good. Dick had laid down the law that the limit was three days for every ten hours of continuous sleep. Dick was busy in Bludhaven that evening and it was Jason’s turn for Timbo duty so he was taking advantage of his rare moments of peace to read his novels. As he sat there buried in the antics of the young woman trying to decide who she wanted to be betrothed to while still trying to figure out the best way to provide for her ill father who was-
He blinked. What was that? He felt an odd tugging sensation yet again from the bottom of his stomach but it was subtle. He felt the curl like fingers right behind his naval but not nearly as comfortable or hot as that feeling usually indicated. He frowned, his mind no longer on his book but not enough to close it yet. Tim didn’t look up from his laptop but they were both bat trained and more than tuned in to each other. Reading each other had become easier than second nature to them all.
“What’s wrong?”
“Something’s trying to… I don’t know, grab me or scan me or something. It’s weird as fuck.”
That had most of Tim’s attention now, enough that he deemed it necessary to take his eyes off the screen but not yet too concerned.
“Alien or magic?”
Jason mulled over the answer. He’d had a fair amount of experience with both, they all had. He felt kind of like he was being targeted by something but nothing else so far.
“Mh, not sure. I don’t know. Doesn’t feel like any alien tech I’ve seen but it’s hard to tell.”
Still no serious concerns but Tim was fully paying attention now.
“Is it affecting you?”
That was a million dollar question. Was it? He did a mental check.
Surly over excited brain: Check
Swirling fury of pit madness: Check
Craving for venom or nicotine: Check
Comforting chill of his mother city: Check
Craving for the blood of the wicked: Check
Nothing out of the ordinary then.
“Don’t think so. It seems like it’s gone now anyway.”
He glanced at his watch and rolled his shoulders back, setting his book on the counter with a dull snap.
“Who knows? Time for bed, Replacement!”
Tim frowned like a petulant child but Jason wasn’t having it. He had some of his own irritation that had been growing and shifting in the back of his mind for the last few days so he was already not in the mood for arguing with his hard headed brother. He could feel the bubbling frustration of the toxic overshadowing green beginning to creep into his vision and he wanted to growl as he reached into his jacket to snag one of his cigarettes. He couldn’t explain why the foreign energy picked at his temper so badly but the odd ‘other’ tickle just really bothered him in a way he couldn’t quite put into words. It took him a moment to realize the irritation wasn't entirely his own.
“Not up for negotiation. You’re at your limit. Just because clone boy’s busy doesn’t mean you get to stay up. Bed. Now.”
The frustrating grabby thing was back and this time it was far more forceful and bordered on physically painful. He couldn’t figure out what it was that was trying to get a slippery grip on him but it was so infuriating that when Tim let out so much as a syllable of rebellion he wasn’t having it.
“I just need-”
“God dammit, Tim! Don’t push me! Just go to fucking bed already!
Tim turned his head to stare at him quizzically, sensing something off in his older brother but Jason was feeling too irritable to care. He felt ruffled and off and just wrong somehow. He growled into his cigarette but even he was wondering what it was that was driving him so crazy. He was normally difficult to throw off this badly. What was it that was making him so unsettled then? Green was threatening to overtake his vision again so he closed his eyes, feeling the fury swelling and ebbing after a moment with each breath. He was fine. He was safe. He knew who he was. His brother was in front of him. This was fine. Was it that weird scan that was still struggling to get a grip on him? What could it have been? He didn’t feel any different other than the frustration, not really, but it was like something else was trying to rise and twist within himself. What was it? His mind turned inward and searched for the strange twisting force that the searching touch had latched onto and he was able to identify as another part of himself and not the pit or venom or any of the other shit he had dumped into his system at one point or another. That didn’t answer the question of what it actually was though.
“Are you okay, Hood?”
“Yeah…”
He shook his head and focussed on what was going on outside of his own mind. He was able to speak with a lot more confidence this time.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just feeling funny. Bed time.”
He had obviously been knocked off kilter and Jason knew it but he just got to his feet and shooed his little brother off to bed. There was a sudden rush as Jason wobbled only to be saved from crashing face first into the intricate tiling by his much smaller brother. He could feel that thing in his core spinning and twirling up into his chest before it burst into a wild angry heat around his lungs and heart. Jason considered himself quite well acquainted with the emotion of anger but this wasn’t an anger he was familiar with. This was the kind of anger that came from Lady Gotham herself. He shut his eyes only to curse wildly as he lost all sense of which direction was up.
“Shit! Alfred! I need help with Jason! Something’s wrong with him!”
“God fucking magic dammit…”
That was the last thing he knew before he lost consciousness and knew no more. All Tim knew was they needed help of the magical variety and there were very limited choices there.
When Jason finally became aware of where he was he was in his bed with a pounding headache and a tight chest. He groaned and tried to push himself up only to fall back into bed. It took him a minute to realize he wasn't alone in his room. Tim was standing by his window talking quietly with a blond man in a scruffy trench coat and a cigarette between his fingers. He was muttering something that sounded suspiciously like the end of a ritual drawing Jason's attention to the candles all around Jason on his bedside tables and on the floor. Jason blinked blearily at the blond warlock who was putting out the candles he’d taken the time to light for the ritual. It wasn't difficult to put together why he was there. He was one of the few magic users that Daddy Bruce tolerated and they clearly had a magical issue on their hands. Jason just let his head fall back into the plush pillows. He couldn’t believe his life sometimes. He’d long ago stopped actually questioning it but it didn’t stop him from wondering.
"Good morning, Sunshine. You managed to get yourself into a real bind this time."
"Tell me something I don't know."
Again Jason tried to sit up and had some more success. He was able to re--fluff his pillows so he was at least halfway more vertical.
"You asked for it. Strap in."
The warlock took a deep breath and began his tale of two deities in opposition to each other. As soon as he finished, Jason's poor frazzled mind was struggling to keep up through the pounding headache.
“So, what you’re saying is that I’m stuck in a magical tug-o-war between Lady Gotham and some distant blood relatives that I don’t give a fuck about?”
The velvety darkness in the room shifted and growled in the anger at the gaul of someone daring to try to claim one of Gotham’s own and as though in response to the anger Jason could feel that part of himself keen and crow. He groaned in pain as his head was trying to keep up with what was going on in himself between the pit anger that always lingered, the newly realized thing (his subtle magic) flooding his system, the venom whispering for another hit in the back of his mind, what his gut feeling wanted, and what the more bat tempered reason wanted. Then there was the matter of what he actually wanted. He let himself bury his head in his knees and curl in on himself to breathe in the scent of his family and home in the darkness. It did wonders to help settle his mind a little. Tim moved closer to the bed and just being next to him was already calming his hurricane of a mind. The secondhand smell of nicotine off the dark warlock’s cigarette didn’t hurt either.
“That about sums it up zombie boy. And you best make sure that you keep them from trying to claim you again.”
Tim frowned and crossed his arms. It occurred to Jason that he probably hadn't gone to be like he was supposed to yet.
“Is it going to kill him again?”
Constantine shrugged loosely.
“If Gotham and your magic get pissed off enough, it might. With that cocktail you got in your system there’s no telling though.”
Right. Okay. Jason could deal with this. What next?
“So what do I do to keep that from happening?”
“You keep those relatives o’ yours from trying to claim you again and make it clear to the family magic deity exactly who you belong to.”
Now both were interested but admittedly Jason wasn’t listening as closely as he probably should be with the way his head was pounding but that was what Tim was for so no worries there, snotty little bookworm that he was.
“What does that mean?”
Ah bless the little red replacement for having enough mind to ask the right questions. Constantine rubbed at his scraggled beard with one of his hands and sighed in thought.
“It has to do with the modern wand waving magic users. Sit down kids. This is gonna be a long one.”
Tim sat at Jason’s feet on the comforter and waited, Jason too tired to kick his little brother off his feet.
“Okay, so there’s two classes of magicians if you will.”
Tim had opened his mouth with a shit-eating grin on his face but Constantine was ready for him already.
“Ask about Dragons and Dungeons and you’re not getting your bloody explanation.”
Jason tried to snicker but it only came out a small breathy cough through his aching chest. Tim glanced at him with carefully masked worry and then turned his full attention back to the warlock.
“Around the medieval era when magic users were being strung up, magic users split into the original users more like myself or Zatanna who are out in the open and the new crowd. They’re a different folk. That lot separated themselves entirely from the rest of the world. They traded most of their power for control but learned pretty fast like that they were losing more power than they bargained for in their kids. The solution they decided on was takin’ on a family spirit o’ sorts that makes sure the family doesn’t lose all their power forever. ‘Snot quite how it all works but they didn’t know that. Now all the ‘old families’ have a personal god that’s claimed ‘em, kind of like Gotham has her fingers all over you. Seems like you’ve got one trying to claim you by a blood rite but your magic and yourself has already been comfortably claimed by Gotham and she ain’t havin’ it.”
“So what do we have to do for me to not die again?”
The warlock shrugged and lit up a cigarette with a spark of fire at the end of his fingers.
“You talk to them. You tell them you’re not interested in being reclaimed and you got your own family god, well, goddess in this case.”
The darkness purred again and to have so much of Jason’s self in agreement had him feeling a little more at peace.
“Right. So where are they then?”
The warlock’s eyes flashed dangerously.
“We’re gonna test that right now.”
Jason sighed and reached for his own cigarette, allowing Constantine to light it for him. He took a long drag off of it before turning back to his younger brother.
“Well shit. Since I’m in the clear, Timbo, bed now or I call mama bird Dick.”
As Tim finally gave in and left the room, Jason sighed. Okay. Next step. Getting the old blood relatives to stop claiming him. To put it plainly, he wasn’t interested. He was more than content with the life he had built with his father and siblings under and in the shadow of Lady Gotham herself even if there were some choices he had made he wasn’t entirely proud of. He didn’t regret too much though in that department. He refused to even let his mind go there. He needed to find them first to get them to knock it off but that could be tricky. He didn’t even know where to start. He glanced at the wizard in thought.
“I don’t guess you know who they are.”
John grumbled in thought a moment before he finally let out a defeated sigh.
“I really didn’t want to do this. We need to make a trip to the local Gringotts branch.”
“Why can I not go myself?”
“Because I don’t bloody trust goblins and I don’t trust you not to start something. Hell, I don’t trust myself not to get into with the bastards either.”
Jason’s vicious sharp smile stretched to inhuman and Gotham purred.
“Well what are we waiting for?”
That was how Jason found himself in front of the large white marble building with the shadowy tendrils of Gotham whispering away sweet nothings in the back of his mind. He wrapped himself in them with a deliberate ‘movement’ and strolled through the doors.
They’d been getting a lot of looks on the streets already and it made Jason wonder how the hell any of these people managed to hide their society at all. When asked, John had said they were pompous idiots but they did have some power even if that power was denial. Once inside he marched up to the counter and had the attention of every goblin within 10 feet on the both of them.
“Marked…”
It was a hiss of a comment that would have scared almost anyone but Constantine didn’t scare and Jason had a chronic case of not giving a damn about threats or much of anything really.
“Yeah, yeah. We’re not bloody here for me. Kid needs a blood test to find his relatives.”
The best eyes were fixated on him but slid to Jason and his nose rankled like he could smell the death on him. He probably could.
“Risen…”
“Yeah and we’ll have to do it again sooner rather than later if we don’t figure this out. You gonna help or not?”
Finally a special parchment was drawn from a desk drawer.
“Three drops of blood sir.”
“Just a minute kiddo.”
John took the parchment and mumbled under his breath, examining the complex magics that were woven into the parchment itself to make sure that there was no funny business going on. After a moment he was satisfied and nodded so Jason casually yanked a knife from his inside pocket and slit the end of his right ring finger after tossing it into the air. So sue him. He liked his flare. The ruby liquid soaked into the paper as spidery lines erupted across the page. Names, dates, places, and all manner of information erupted across the parchment. Huh. So mom was a cousin of the Weasley family. Good to know.
“Now we just need to track them down.”
The goblin spoke slowly, eyes never leaving either of them.
“Gringotts may send a letter on request for the family to contact you.”
He didn’t sound happy about serving them. Neither cared.
“That’s probably your best bet zombie boy.”
It was a normal day in the Weasley household for the most part when Misses Weasley came in and sat down in a state of minor shock.
“What’s up mum?”
She glanced to her youngest son and daughter along with their significant others that were sitting at the kitchen table and shook the lingering image of the black and golden thing in her head away, or tried. The afterimage continued to stain her vision.
“I was doing an old family protection spell but it tried to latch onto someone else in America. When I tried to complete it something dark got in the way. I’ve never seen a patron like that before.”
“Who could it be?”
“I don’t know.”
“Wait, patron?”
“Right. I forget you two were raised by muggles.”
Mrs. Weasley froze.
“Oh my goodness! I can’t believe we never- but when you were married I just assumed…” She sat down with them at the table and hummed thoughtfully. “I’m so sorry dears. We should have made sure you were aware of this when you married into the family. Let me see if I can still remember the dates. When the wizarding world went into hiding, I believe it would have been not long after Merlin, there were laws put into place forebaying the marriage between magic users and muggles for the protection of both. There were so many that were killed in those days senselessly. A simple charm of one kind or another would save the witch or wizard but the muggle spouse wasn’t so lucky. The story is that after a few generations there were more and more squibs being born and our numbers were dropping. To compensate, all of the old families made a pact of protection with a family hearth spirit that would protect the family magic and keep it strong. When you were married to Ron, Hermione, you fell under the Weasley family patron’s protection. And when Harry married Ginny you both would have fallen under… let me see… that would be the Potter and Black patrons. It is possible to have more than one but not overly common. They mostly function in the form of ancestral land wards and such protections but there are stories of other instances such as when one of your great grand uncles pledged his own magic to the family patron in order to apparate with an entire train of muggles that was about to crash. After that he could hardly transfigure a tea pot but not a single person was splinched.”
Harry suddenly felt very nervous.
“Should I be doing something for them? I mean I didn’t know about any of this…”
She smiled and held his hand comfortingly.
“So long as you continue to hold them in your thoughts on occasion you are fine. That is why blood wards are so important though, they are tied to the family under that patron’s protection.”
Suddenly something clicked.
“That’s why Dumbledore always made me go back to the Dursleys! They were blood relatives!”
She nodded.
“Yes. I’m hardly a warding expert but I could guess that he was trying to invoke their protection through the Potter family patron. Patron magic can be tricky and each has its own specialties and strengths but I would have to ask the man himself. There aren’t many patron experts. It came up because I was using a spell that allows me to check on everyone under our patron when I got an odd hit across the pond of all places.” That had everyone’s attention now. “Yes. It’s a bit like scrying you see. Apparently when I reached out to them I was confronted by another family’s patron that had claimed them but I’ve never seen anything like it before. It was so dark and powerful.”
She shivered and sought the warmth from her tea but it offered her little comfort. She was staring into space a moment before regathering herself.
“Anyway, don’t worry about me, dears. I’m really fine.”
Indeed no one really worried about it until a few days later a letter from Gringotts arrived by owl. Arthur and Bill were home along with the matriarch of the family when the bird soared in through the window.
“Let’s see… Gringotts? What could the goblins want?” He opened the letter and the further his eyes made it down the page the higher his brows rose. “Molly, dear. You may want to read this.” He handed her the perplexing letter so she read it.
Mister and Misses Weasley,
As the patriarch and matriarch of the main Family Weasley it is our duty to send you this letter. An individual, one Jason Peter Todd Wayne, has performed a blood test in one of our branches and wishes to meet with you in regards to familial rights. Should you wish to accept, you may set the time and location of said meeting through a return owl.
Account Manager,
Graggle-Marrow
She looked up to her husband, not anymore sure of how to act than he was.
“Well? Do you think we should meet with him?”
Mister Weasley stroked his chin a moment.
“I don’t see any harm in it. I’m not surprised family members are resurfacing. So many were split or in hiding during the war…”
They both shook themselves from those dark thoughts and the decision was made. The meeting would be at the familial home two days from then. None of them were quite sure what to expect on that Saturday morning but the pair of broad men in distinctly muggle clothing was not it.
Mister Weasley moved out to meet them with his wife a step behind them and greeted them warmly.
“Hello! I’m Arthur Weasley.”
He held out his hand awkwardly for a second, betraying his unsureness of which was their long lost cousin. The scruffy blond got there first.
“Name’s John Constantine but John is fine. This ‘ere is the Zombie Boy.”
The younger man shot him a look of pure murder and took the offered hand.
“Jason Todd-Wayne. Thanks for meeting with me and all that.”
They were expecting the American part of the accent but they were not expecting the odd north eastern twang that was not at all softened by a gruffness. It did not help that he was easily standing several inches taller than Mister Weasley himself and was probably half again as broad in the shoulders that were far from hidden beneath his leather jacket. Molly stepped forward.
“Of course! I’m Molly Weasley. Please come in, dears. I’ve got the kettle on.”
She ushered them in and Jason was struck with a shadow of Alfred calling them up from the Batcave after a long night of patrol for milk, tea, and snacks. He shook his head and followed them into the home. It was interesting. Jason had been in buildings so close to collapsing in on themselves it was ridiculous and lived in far worse but this was probably the most unique building he’d been in. It was far from falling apart but each room appeared to have been an addition of some sort and was styled slightly differently. The largest rooms by far were the kitchen and living room area where they were gathered then. Each room also seemed to defy the laws of space but Jason had seen enough to not be surprised by that. It was convenient though. He wondered about setting up a hideout in a closet or something. It would be worth looking into. More importantly, as soon as he had set foot on the family’s land he had felt Gotham wrap her shadows more firmly around him than she had ever before. It was severe enough that John kept glancing over at him with a raised eyebrow. Whatever. That was why they were there.
“Now that we’re all settled, the letter from Gringotts was a little vague in what you needed from us.”
“Cool. Look, I haven’t grown up with this shit. I mean I know about magic, everyone does whether they can use it or not, but this family god stuff is the problem.”
They were both caught off guard by how crass the young man with the odd white bangs he was too young to have gotten naturally was. Then what he actually said sank in.
“I’m… sorry?”
She glanced to her husband now, alarm clear on her face.
“What do you mean, dear? That everyone knows about magic?”
Now it was Jason’s turn to look confused. His companion just sighed and his fingers twitched for a cigarette.
“Magical amish. Remember when I told you and little red about the split? They’re still isolated from the rest of the world.”
Jason blinked. He could deal with the insanity his family came up with no problem, hell he was more often than not a ringleader in the chaos. He could deal with the stupid shit Roy managed to get himself into. He could deal with the craziness that Kori came out with. This, this nearly broke his brain.
“Wait, let me get this straight. I get they’re the magical amish or whatever but do you not realize that everyone on several planets are well aware of the existence of magicians and warlocks? Fucking hell, Constantine’s in the phonebook under wizard.”
“Warlock, zombie boy.”
“Whatever. That’s not why we’re here. A couple days ago something tried to lock onto me and my adopted family’s goddess didn’t appreciate it. Now I’m caught in between the two and Lady Gotham doesn’t share. I need to do something before it kills me.”
His companion stepped in.
“We just need to make sure all familial tied have been dissolved. Gotham is different than most patrons as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
The woman nodded with a shiver. Even as he spoke the shadows in the room all seemed to darken to a deep velvet and clung to all of Jason’s features. He didn’t seem bothered by the chill though. In fact he seemed the picture of ease wrapped in the darkness of the unnatural shadows.
“What is it? I still can’t get the image out of my head and I only saw it for a moment.”
John sat back in his chair for a moment with a little exhale. How much to share. He was one of the only people with the actual answer but he had a sneaking suspicion that that wasn’t really what she was ready for yet. Being in a friends with benefits relationship with the devil himself had its perks. It allowed him to recognize other fallen far more easily than he should probably be comfortable with.
“She is one of the oldest patrons but she has her favorites and the Zombie is one of them. She didn’t appreciate it when someone tried to take what belongs to her. Do you know how to dissolve the ties?”
The balding man nodded, still unsure of the whole situation.
“Yes, of course. Are you sure that’s what you want, son? It can’t be undone.”
“Please.”
But as he spoke an odd purr echoed through his words in a way that wasn’t quite auditory but was nonetheless felt by all in the room. The man shook himself and got to his feet.
“Give me just a moment. I need to get a few things. I should have them all here.”
He got up and began rummaging around. In the mean time Molly examined the boy more closely.
“How old are you, dear? This is a very big decision to make and not one to be made in a rush. You could always renounce your newer patron.”
At the mere suggestion the purr from the darkness turned into a growl of fury unlike anything she had ever witnessed before. The younger man flinched at a brief twinge of pain (a massive spike of pain really but it had been enough to catch him off guard enough to slip through his bat training) from his infuriated patron grabbing his raw soul more tightly than she already was.
“I’m happy with Gotham. I was born there and she’s always taken care of me when no one else would. She may be harsh but she does what she can to care for her favorite and I’m grateful for that.”
His words seemed to calm the growl to a purr once more.
“Since mom passed away I don’t really have a connection to you so no offense, but I know what I want. Besides, I’m 22 and I’ve been making my own decisions since I was 11. They may have been stupid but no one ever accused the Waynes of being smart when it came to life choices. Hell, Bruce only picked me up when I had the gaul to try to steal the hubcaps off his car and then attacked him with a tire iron.”
Constantine choked on his tea in surprise.
“Why am I not even surprised. Of course you did. That’s almost stupid enough to be one of my choices.”
That was when Mister Weasley returned with a stone bowl, a small bag, a parchment, and an oddly sharp quill in a sealed glass box.
“I’m sorry it took me so long. We don’t use blood quills very often. Now, this won’t take me long.”
He tapped the glass box containing the quill with the wand and it seamlessly opened, granting access to the red quill within.
“Blood quills are only used in certain rituals and signing certain contracts but they can be nasty little things if used incorrectly.” He put quill to parchment and wrote out a short missive. “I’ll just need your full name.”
“Jason Peter Todd Wayne.”
I, Arthur Septimus Weasley hereby dissolve Jason Peter Todd Wayne of all connection and duty to the Weasley family and patronage.
With each stroke of the quill it appeared on the back of his hand only to heal over within a matter of seconds. It was a few words before Jason realized that the quill was using the man’s blood to write. Creepy. No wonder he was so adamant about keeping the box sealed shut. That done, the man wrapped up the parchment in a roll, poured a powder of some sort into the bowl, and set it alight with the end of his wand. Immediately the powder caught and a bright blue fire filled the stone bowl between them. He next dropped the scroll into the flames. They had expected that to be that when something quite unexpected happened.
The room quite suddenly lost all light and there seemed to be two presents filling the room. The first was difficult to pick out at first because it was so similar to the ancestral home itself. The figure of the man was nearly nude with only a cloth wrapped about him almost like a toga. His skin was a dark green the color of dark moss and his long hair was a deep brown. Several weasels were curled about his person and he gave off the scent of a damp forest. He turned his deep blue eyes to the room’s occupants and was amused to see that his patriarch and matriarch were in awe. He was less amused and more intrigued to find the others displaying open nonchalance or wrapping himself very firmly in the grasp of the other patron that was admittedly even older than he. When he spoke to the other it was like wind moving through the trees of a forest.
“Well now, it is interesting to meet another patron, much less one I have never had the pleasure. The young one is so interesting. Is there no way you would be willing to share his patronage?”
The other figure was nothing like him. For one, her androgynous yet feminine face was framed by platinum blonde waves and curls in the style of a twenties flapper. Her ash gray skin was somewhat covered by a black gown decorated in glowing lines and arches evoking the art deco style. Her entire figure was covered in a sheer cloak and veil that looked more like the surface tension of water had simply refused to release her. It bled into every shadow in the room and yet despite how dark she was, she had a golden glow about her. Her eyes were a molten gold and her veil wrapped about her favored with all the willingness to share of a 5 year old that had just gotten a new toy.
“I do not share, polecat. My favored’s souls are mine to care for and mine alone.”
“Lady Gotham?”
She turned to Jason that was suddenly feeling very much like the first time he had seen Wonder Woman but there was a warmth there that he didn’t feel with the super hero. No, this was more like the faint memories of hugs from his mother in her rare sober moments but it was more still than that. This was the mother that had always cared for all her children, that had cradled his tired soul so carefully when he had been killed, and the one that still kept him close to her even when he had been overcome by the Lazarus madness. Still her shadows had comforted and helped him. This was Gotham herself. A smile touched her unimpressed lips and continued to stretch to far too wide, the trademark Gotham grin that all of her born citizens had.
“Yes, my child.”
Her eyes lost all warmth and turned back to the man.
“Your patriarch has absolved all ties and it has been accepted. This child is mine.”
The other spirit huffed but didn’t push it.
“It is as you say. Still, it’s such a shame. I find myself curious though. How is it that mortal souls deal with you never allowing them to go on?”
She scoffed and placed a deceptively delicate hand on the young man’s shoulder.
“See for yourself. I’ve held this child’s soul in my hands once before already and he has returned whole and still under my fold.”
“Yes, yes. I suppose our job is done here then. It’s been a pleasure Madame.”
He offered a nod of a bow but Constantine caught the significance. Gods and goddesses, no matter how minor, didn’t normally show any form of respect for anyone other than the basic courtesies. For him to actively bow to the woman dressed in shadows was nearly unheard of. Evidently both spirits recognized him or at the very least what he was picking up on.
“You, little warlock, are fascinating. I see why my dear brother has grown so fond of you. I must thank you for caring for my dear one in this matter.”
She further wrapped her arms around Jason’s shoulders not unlike one of Dick’s infamous octopus hugs but with a certain touch of elegance the first Robin lacked in the action and absolutely nothing else.
“You’re welcome an’ all that.”
“Well, now, I must turn my attentions back to my other favored and my city but know that your father and brothers and sisters are doing well. They eagerly await your return home as do I.”
“Of course Mother Gotham. Thanks.”
With that the fire from the bowl on the table extinguished and the light returned but still the shadows around Jason were too dark. He was able to take several full deep breaths for the first time since he had arrived, no longer being pulled apart in multiple directions. He was safe now. Constantine clapped his hands together.
“Well! I think our work here is finished. Thanks for all that. We’ll be on our way then.”
The others still seemed a little dazed but they politely showed them out of their home, more than a little relieved that there would be no surprise arrival of the crass young man with the terrifying patron. Similarly, Jason was silently thanking Gotham for protecting him when he couldn’t and for bringing him to his family as many times as were needed before it stuck. She purred as the warlock and the Red Hood stood outside the home, finally outside the claimed territory once more, and were whisked away back home where they belonged. It wasn’t long before they parted once more, Jason back to his family and his life as a vigilante and Constantine as the freelancing warlock. Before they finally split they had one last exchange.
“Thanks John, you’re alright. Oh and I owe you one, but I get veto power.”
“Cheeky brat. Fine. I’ll remember that Zombie Boy.”
It was meant to come out as a threat but it lacked any real malice. Before his eyes the shadow rose up to embrace Jason and he had vanished vanished into the darkness. Gotham rumbled with a contented purr once more and how could she not? All of her favored were finally home at last where they belonged beneath her cloak of darkness.