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If Dick never has to deal with a cult again, it’ll be too soon.
As it is, he’s tied up in some dingy, abandoned warehouse with a makeshift altar and a carefully drawn chalk circle. They must be near Gotham Harbor, because he can faintly hear the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. He wonders if they’re far enough out from the city that you can see the stars more clearly, but the windows in the warehouse are taped up, so Dick can’t tell.
His head aches a little as he glances around the warehouse, evaluating his situation more closely. He’s tied to a chair with a thick rope and absentmindedly starts to work at the knots. Unfortunately for him, whoever tied him up seems to know what they were doing. They’ve also tied some cloth around his head to gag him, but don’t seem to care that he can see them work. That never bodes well. If a kidnapper doesn’t care if you see their face, that usually means nothing good for you.
Dick can conclude fairly easily that cult members doing a ritual to summon something usually means human sacrifice. He just hopes that his emergency signal will alert the others in time. A muffled grunt to his right brings his gaze over to Jason in his full Red Hood glory, looking pissed off. Dick tries to signal to him, but his hands are tied firmly behind his back. He tries to stay calm, but having his little brother thrown into the mix makes him nervous. He can’t stand to watch him get killed again.
Jason looks at him, nudging his head towards the gathered cult members, but before Dick can try to parse out what he’s saying, the cult members turn their attention to them. Dick stills. They’re out of time.
“The time has come.” The leader crows. “The moon is at its highest.” He grins at them maliciously. “Which one of you would like to have the honor to be sacrificed for the coming of our lord?”
The leader glances between them as if evaluating them. Jason yells threats and curses behind the gag, and Dick stays silent, trying to come up with a last-minute escape plan. Normally, he tries to talk his way out of tight situations, but for obvious reasons, he’s currently unable to.
“You’re going to be far too much trouble.” The leader tuts disapprovingly at Jason. He turns his gaze to Dick, pinning him to the spot like a bug under a microscope. “That leaves us with you, Nightwing. A more heroic soul, a more willing sacrifice. Just the exact thing to entice our king.”
Jason doubles his struggling and his stifled threats as they approach Dick. They knock him in the head, Dick’s world spinning as they loosen his ropes. This should be his time to fight, to break free and escape, but his vision blurs and his ears ring as they drag him over, dumping him harshly on the floor. At least it’s him and not Jason.
“Don’t worry, Red Hood.” The leader sneers as Jason screams. “If his death is not enough, you’ll be next.”
There’s a flash of silver, and then all Dick knows is pain.
___ ___ ___
Jason is going to murder them.
The second he’s free, he’s going to give each and every one of these cult bastards the slowest and most torturous death he can imagine. He lets the anger consume him because otherwise he’ll have to think about the small grunt of pain his older brother had let out as the leader slammed a jagged dagger into his gut before slumping listlessly to the floor. He doesn’t want to watch, but he can’t make himself look away as blood pools around his brother’s body, activating the chalk runes. This is almost worse than dying himself a second time.
The floor lights up with a familiarly sickening shade of green, the bright light blinding as it fills the room. What fresh hell sort of pit monster did his brother just get sacrificed to summon?
A figure appears in the column of light, floating in the air. It’s humanoid, but as the light dims, Jason can identify its otherworldly features. Its hair is stark white, and its body dark, like the depths of the night sky. It has glowing green eyes, like the acidic green of the pit, and its ears come to a point.
The room suddenly drops in temperature, ice creeps along the walls, and it smiles with teeth too sharp to be friendly. Its skin is a pale blue, like someone you might find who’s been out in the cold for too long, and it’s adorned with a crown and a cape. The crown sticks up from the creature's white hair like icicles, burning with a cold flame, and the cape floats around them ethereally.
The strangest part is how the pit calms in his chest. For all it had been rising in anxious anticipation, it stills now that the figure is here, cooing soothingly, like it’s pleased. Jason can’t decide if it’s a good thing or not.
“Your majesty!” The cult leader cries, and Jason hopes the creature eats them. “We gift you with the pure blood of a mighty hero, so you might start your conquest with the most delicate of meals.”
The figure glances down to where Dick lies lifeless on the ground as if seeing him for the first time. The creature lands softly, kneeling down and gently pulling Dick into its lap. The rope around him falls away as his blood smears across the floor. They rest Dick against them, his back against their chest, his head falling limply against their shoulder. For a terrifying moment, Jason thinks they are going to sink their teeth into his brother’s neck and drain his blood like a vampire, but the creature just looks back at the cultist, cradling his brother gently.
“You offer me a sacrifice of one of Gotham’s Knights and think she will allow me to escape without repercussion?”
“Lord Pariah—”
“Do not speak that name in my presence.” They interrupt with a hiss, voice cold and unforgiving. “He has been squashed beneath my heel like the lowly insect he is. I am Phantom, King of the Infinite Realms, the Balance between Life and Death, and Protector of Humanity. It would do you well to learn my name.”
“Your majesty—” The cultist tries again, a tremor in his voice, but it seems Phantom has had enough.
“Silence,” he demands, and ice crawls across the floor, advancing on the cultists with ruthless speed. Some try to flee, but none are able to escape. Instead, Jason watches as, in a matter of seconds, all of them are encased in a thick wall of ice. “Before you piss me off anymore.” He growls before glancing back down at Dick again.
He stares at the ornamental dagger before pulling it out, twisting it in his hands. Jason can’t help his yelped protest as the dagger is removed. There’s still a chance that his brother is alive and can recover from this, but he can’t afford to lose much more blood.
Bright green eyes land on him, and Jason fears he’s made a mistake as the ice starts to worm across the floor towards him as well, but the ice just crawls up the legs of the chair, snapping his bonds like a fragile twig. Jason rips the gag from his mouth, storms over to the summoning circle, and points his gun at Phantom threateningly. “Give him back.” He demands with a snarl.
“Be at peace, Revenant,” Phantom says calmly, placing the dagger onto the ground and looking up at him, obviously not afraid. Jason is only willing to hear him out because the All Blades sit calmly in his chest. “I have no ill will towards you or your brother.”
Jason deflates a little, lowering the gun. “Then give him to me. He needs help.” Jason tries to sound firm, but it comes off a little like pleading.
“You misunderstand. I am the balance between what is alive and what is not. Death will not take him while I am here, but life cannot reclaim him either. He is stuck, just as he is, while he is within my grasp.”
Jason takes a moment to process. “You’re saying you’ve got him in some sort of stasis?”
Phantom nods, glancing down at Dick again. “He did not deserve the harm that befell him,” he explains, and Jason can tell by the look on his face and the tone of his voice that he genuinely is remorseful. “And he doesn’t deserve the consequences of being treated so unjustly. Alas,” he glances up at Jason meaningfully. “There is only so much I can do. So I will hold him here, for as long as it takes, for him to receive help. Then my debt will be paid, and I will be gone.”
“Shouldn’t they owe you something?” Jason asks, gesturing to the frozen cultists behind them. “They summoned you, and all you got was something you didn’t want.” He doesn’t really want to look a gift horse in the mouth if the King of the Dead was actually willing to leave just like that, but he knows better than to let things go unchecked in case they haunt him later. In this case, it might be literal.
Phantom smiles. “You are kind, Revenant, but I could not ask more from you.”
Jason hums consideringly but puts that to the side for later. “Can you leave the circle?” He asks, and Phantom doesn’t respond, staring up at him like he isn’t sure why he should. “I can’t take him to the hospital because of our identities, but we have a facility to take care of extensive injuries at our base.” He explains.
Phantom’s toxic green eyes narrow at him warily. He shifts, floating to his feet with Dick dangling from his arms, just out of reach. “And you will not harm me?” Phantom asks, distrust and something like wary fear lining his voice. “You will not try to keep me, to capture me, use me for your bidding, or study me to sate your curiosity?”
Jason shifts back at the accusation hidden in his voice, at the way he clutches Dick closer, and at the way the King of the Dead feels he must bargain for his own safety. “No, of course not. It would just be best to keep him in stasis for as long as possible, to increase his odds of survival.”
Phantom stares at him, as if trying to find a lie in his statement. “Very well,” he concedes. “But know this, Jason Todd, Revenant of Gotham,” He starts, voice dark and threatening, shadows advancing from the corners of the room, leaving the king haloed in a deadly light. “If you are to break your word, I will leave and take your brother along with me. Gotham would not be happy, but she would understand, and he would gladly be welcomed to be a protector of my court.”
Jason’s heart catches as he remembers who exactly he was talking with. This was not some petty rogue; this was the King of the Dead, summoned by cultists who were killed almost immediately afterwards for simply speaking the wrong name in his presence. Phantom had been polite and helped them because he felt he owed Dick a favor for being hurt in his stead, but he would not hesitate to turn on them as well if he felt it necessary.
He sees why Phantom had stood, carrying Dick in his arms. Not so he could follow him back to the cave, but so he could flee if he thought Jason would cause harm to either one of them. Jason takes a deep breath. He isn’t afraid and doesn’t necessarily feel threatened, for the All-Blades still confirm the lack of evil intent, but he needs to be careful. Something has happened to Phantom in the past that has made him distrustful.
“I swear I will not bring you anywhere to cause you harm or allow any of my associates to hurt you.”
Phantom stares at him a moment longer and then concedes. “Gotham attests to your pure heart and good intentions. I will trust her in this matter.” He floats out of the circle, settling next to Jason expectantly.
“Right,” Jason says, letting out a breath of relief. “Thank you.” He wanders over to the pile of their confiscated gear and finds his comm, sticking it in his ear. “Anyone there?”
“What’s up, Hood?” Tim’s voice rings in return.
“What’s up?” Jason snarls disbelievingly. “Wing and I have been missing for the past few hours, and all I get is ‘what’s up?’”
“Missing?” Tim asks, sounding genuinely confused. “What happened?”
“You didn’t get either one of our distress signals?”
“No. You’ve been quiet all night.”
“Fucking bastards,” Jason growls to no one in particular. “They must’ve messed with them.”
“I’m afraid that ghosts don’t mix very well with technology.” Phantom cuts in apologetically. “It’s only a matter of time before my mere presence messes with your communication device.” He explains, and Jason curses.
“Jason, what’s going on?” Tim asks, sounding more frantic.
“I’m running out of time, so listen carefully. Dickwing is hurt, badly hurt. I need you to get Leslie to the Cave so she can do an emergency procedure. He’s been stabbed in the stomach and has lost lots of blood. Got that?”
“Got it. Leslie is on the way.”
“Now, I’m bringing a guest to the cave with me. He’s helping me keep Dick alive in the meantime. No one is to question, incapacitate, or otherwise interfere with my guest. Which means keep the brat from attacking him when he sees him holding Dick’s limp body and keep Bruce from sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“Right, I’ll help run interference,” Tim promises sincerely, and Jason relaxes a little.
“Good. See you soon.” He promises and clicks the device off, turning back to Phantom. “Ready to go?”
“After you.”
Phantom unfreezes the cultists as they leave, their bodies falling limply to the floor. Jason doesn’t know whether they’re dead or simply unconscious.
He doesn’t care to check.
It takes them longer than he’d like to reach the cave. Even though Phantom says he’s keeping Dick in stasis, Jason still feels the weight of the minutes passing by. He leads Phantom to the medical wing of the cave. Bruce is—thankfully—nowhere to be found, and Damian is watching them intensely but stays where he is. Tim did as promised then.
“Where do you want us, doc?” Jason questions, eyes landing on where Leslie and Alfred have supplies gathered nearby.
“Here, quickly.” Leslie gestures, and Phantom sets Dick gently down on the firm bed, hand lingering on his shoulder before pulling away entirely.
Maybe it’s just his imagination, but Jason swears he can see the air shimmer around his brother, like a bubble popping. He watches him take a breath where he hadn’t before, but he blinks, and Leslie and Alfred have crowded around him, blocking Jason’s view. He takes a deep breath, taking off his helmet and running a hand through his hair. Now, they wait.
He glances over at Phantom, who seems to be watching them work with the same amount of hope-tinged anxiety as everyone else, and thinks of their earlier conversation.
“Do you eat human food?” Jason asks, drawing Phantom's vibrant green gaze away from the scene in front of them.
“I can.”
“There’s probably some post-patrol snacks upstairs, if you want.” He gestures loosely to the exit of the cave. “But you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
“The food is not alive, is it? I do not think I can bear the energy to fight for a meal right now.”
“Uh, no,” Jason says slowly, brain stumbling over what the King had said. “It’s just, like, sandwiches and stuff, probably.”
“Then I accept. I appreciate your offer, Revenant. Again, you are too kind.”
Damian tuts, drawing their attention over to where he stands, arms crossed.
“Only a fool would call Todd kind.”
“Alfie would kill me if we had a guest and I didn’t at least offer them tea,” Jason says, ignoring Damian entirely. “And don’t listen to him; he’s just upset that Big Bird got hurt.”
“The little liminal does not offend me,” Phantom reassures, glancing over at Damian, evaluatingly. “He, too, is kind but tries to hide it. Care and concern of such intensity only come from a good heart. Perhaps he would like to join us upstairs.” He trails off, letting his invitation hang in the air.
“He’s right,” Jason agrees, walking towards the stairs and snagging Damian’s arm to drag him along with them. “There’s no point in you just waiting aimlessly down here.”
Damian snarls and rips his arm away, but follows them nonetheless, and Jason can see the concern he’s too tired to hide. They find Tim in the kitchen, anxiously eating his way through a bag of chips.
“Everything okay?” Tim asks, head whipping up to stare at them all, like their arrival might bring bad news.
“Fine. He’s with Leslie and Alfred now. We won’t know until they’re done.” Jason shrugs, trying to downplay his own concern, in hopes that it's reassuring. “We’re just here for the food.” He says and plops down at the table.
“His life force is strong,” Phantom assures, settling at Jason’s side. “Gotham will not let him go without a fight.”
Tim stares at Phantom calculatingly but doesn’t say anything. Jason just reaches for a sandwich and is going to see how long he can put off explaining. Damian seems less pleased with the lack of answers, sitting in a chair across from them.
“I would fight with you to soothe your energy,” Phantom says to Damian, as if explaining something gently, “but you should fuel your body first.”
Damian sits a little taller. “You wish to spar?”
Phantom nods thoughtfully around a bit of his food. “You seem like you could use the socialization.” He tilts his head consideringly. “But you also have questions. Ask, little liminal. It will not upset me.”
“Who are you?” Damian demands. “Why were you with Todd and Richard? What did you do to him?”
“Damian,” Jason cuts in warningly. This is the exact thing he was worried about, in case Damian’s demand causes Phantom to flee.
“Relax, Revenant. His questions mean me no harm. It is only fair for them to know about one they protect so dearly. Gather near, Red Knight of Gotham.” He glances at Tim. “You shall know as well.”
Tim moves closer, settling down curiously.
“Your brothers were chosen by misguided followers of a previous ghost king to bear witness to his summons. He was a Tyrant King, Conqueror of All, and generally disliked by denizens of the Infinite Realms. Those who did follow him could entice him to favor them by offering sacrifices of blood. This is why your brother was injured in such a way. Unbeknownst to them, I have defeated him in combat and am now the King myself. I am a different type of king, a protector of humanity, one who strives not to meddle with the balance between life and death, so your brother’s blood did not please me. I have done what I can to ensure his survival, but now, we must wait.”
Silence hangs in the air as they process his words. Damian looks like he isn’t sure how much he believes, but doesn’t question any further. Tim stares at the table consideringly, and Jason is sure that he will be doing a ton of research into this later. For now, it seems that a combination of tiredness, hunger, and anxiety keeps them quiet. Jason knows they won’t really be back to their normal selves until they see Dick alive and well again. Most of Damian’s accusations are fueled by his concern for Dick anyway, thinly veiled attempts to hide his panic.
Phantom seems relieved that the line of questioning is over, despite the fact of how well he ended it. Jason did intend to bring him upstairs for food as a way to escape the scrutiny and inadvertently brought him right to it. For now, it seems, everyone has calmed, but Jason knows he will be bombarded more when Phantom is gone. He knows he’ll be questioned about why he trusted the King so readily, but they didn’t see the genuine remorse on his face, cradling Dick’s limp body in that dingy old warehouse.
After a while of companionable silence, Phantom straightens in his seat from where he had been slouched, eating his food, his head turning to look towards the entrance of the cave.
“What’s wrong?” Jason asks, his heart dropping in his chest at the sight of the King so alert.
Phantom stares for a moment longer before turning back to them with a smile. “Good news, Knights of Gotham. Life has claimed your brother once more. He will need to rest much in order to heal fully, but death has lost its hold on him today.”
Jason sags in relief, finally feeling like he could relax. He hadn’t realized how much the fear and adrenaline had been keeping him going since watching Dick get injured in the first place, but now he knows that he’s okay; Jason just wants to sleep for a week.
“My debt has been paid,” Phantom says, rising from his seat. “Peace be upon your household, Revenant, and may your family heal quickly.”
“Thanks, and no offense, but I hope to never see you again,” Jason says.
Phantom just grins. “I as well, but if you do, you will be met with a friend. Farewell, dear Robin.”
And with that, he’s gone.