Blood Knight (Bat-fam Fanfic)

Chapter 2

Before long, an older model car rolled up to the mouth of the alley and I was helping Dick and the butler, who was called Alfred, get Dick into the car without jostling his injuries too much. When I got into the back of the car with Dick, Alfred questioned, "Master Greyson?"

"It's alright, Alfred, I'm fine, just take me home please."

"Certainly, sir, it seems as if you've had a long night." That seemed pretty accurate. I was surprised that Alfred wasn't shocked at Dick's appearance, apparently injuries were pretty common, or Alfred was just on another level of chill. "Who's this young lady?" Who was he calling young? I'm older than his grandparents' grandparents going back at least seven generations.

Dick answered for me, "this is Jacky, she patched me up without asking questions so I introduced myself." Why did it feel like there was some sort of code being passed between the two? I wasn't concerned as long as I wasn't harmed by the end result and it didn't seem to be the case.

Alfred was quiet the rest of the ride back, the exact opposite of Dick, who teased and bantered with me like an old friend. With anyone else, I would've felt uncomfortable from this level of intimacy from a stranger—side effect of growing up in a far more conservative era—but for whatever reason, Dick was different. By the time Alfred had pulled to a stop, I was doubled over from laughing so hard that it took me an extra minute to get out of the car.

In that extra minute, the other Waynes had come out of the mansion. It was my assumption, at least, that they were the Waynes, later confirmed. They were trading questions back and forth from Alfred to Dick, all of which I could hear perfectly thanks to my enhanced hearing. Mostly the standard 'where were you?' 'why are you injured?' type of questions. Stepping out of the car, all talk ceased as they took stock of the presence of an outsider. I could feel the tension thick in the air and a quartet of heartbeats elevating.

That tension evaporated when I turned around and called, "Dick, where are you?"

"Oh, sorry Jacky, here, let me escort you." He quickly came to my side and took the hand that wasn't carrying the cane, placing it curled around the bicep of his uninjured shoulder. "Feel free to compliment me on my muscles."

"Dick, I already warned you that you should not be standing, let alone walking on your own." I admonished, whacking his uninjured shin with my cane. He let out a yelp and muttered something about him not being manhandled and that I couldn't boss him around. I pinched his bicep for the comment, and scolded, "I'm your doctor, not your nanny, you can ignore my advice if you'd like but then don't come crawling to me when you need another miss-fix-it!"

"Sorry, Jacky. Alfred, would you mind getting me a crutch?" Dick asked pensively, as if afraid he'd be struck with another blow to the shin. I could literally feel the surprise radiating off of the other Waynes, clearly Dick was never this timid with anyone else.

I patted Dick's bicep and complimented in a low and appreciative tone, "you do have very nice muscles, Dick." I sensed him instantly perk up and felt a weird combination of regret and pride. He definitely had an ego and I shouldn't have inflated it, but everyone deserved a boost in self esteem every once in a while, especially when you're feeling down.

I heard a clearing of a throat and someone more adult than any others present asked, "Dick, would you care to introduce your guest?"

"Oh, right! This is Jacky, she saved me from bleeding out in an alley by playing doctor with me." Of course he had to say it like that. "Jacky, that was my adoptive father, Bruce Wayne. My other two brothers are here as well, Damian and Tim." Odd, why was there another heartbeat in the mansion that didn't belong to Alfred? Was it a maid or a cook? No, the Waynes were lavish but not to that extent. But then, who could it be?

"Nice to meet you, I'm Jacqueline LeClair. Jacky, for short." I introduced myself, nodding toward where I had heard Bruce's voice come from. I could distinguish the three apart without having even heard the two boys' voices. Tim smelled like coffee was running through his veins, he probably had an addiction, Damian smelled faintly of wax, the kind used for polishing swords in an old fashioned manner, and Bruce smelled like old spice, like he'd just come from the shower.

Damian abruptly blurted, "are you really blind?" He didn't sound very trusting so I needed to be honest in order to not garner any suspicions.

I admitted, "I'm not one hundred percent blind, but my blindness comes from my incredible sensitivity to light, so I keep my eyes covered at all times to avoid further damaging them." This was the best excuse I could come up with because it was closest to the truth.

"So if you took off your blindfold, could you see us?" He pressed further. I wondered what exactly they didn't want me to see.

I shook my head, "vague shapes of blurry color and only at night. If I were to take off my blindfold during the daylight, I would be in too much pain to even open my eyes. Sudden flashes of light are equally as painful, if not more so. I've learned to live without my eyes, but I keep my blindfold on at all times to preserve what remains of my vision. After all, wouldn't anyone like to see colors every once in a while?" This seemed to finally convince him even though just about everything I had just said about the state of my eyes was a lie. If I were to take my blindfold off now his features would be in such sharp relief that I would henceforth never be able to misidentify him. The thing about the light was true though, it was really bloody painful.

I heard Alfred return and pass something long and slim to Dick, probably the crutch he had asked him to get. After Alfred's suggestion to move this inside, Dick slowly lead me into the mansion, slow for both his injured leg and poor helpless blind little me. Now that Damian had determined that I was—at least somewhat—trustworthy, he was hardly interested in me and turned his attention to why Dick was so heavily injured. "So Dick, what the hell hap—"

He was cut off by something unsaid, I could imagine it was some unspoken signal between the three boys's father figure. It could have been a look or a shake of the head, but he didn't speak of it again after that. That was probably a conversation to have behind closed doors, without outsiders present. That was fine, I already told Dick I wouldn't ask questions, but if they were loud enough, I'd be able to overhear if they had the conversation while I was still on the premises. I couldn't say I wasn't a little curious, but in the grand scheme of things, it meant very little to me.

"Are you hungry, Jacky?" Dick asked out of the blue, probably prompted by another silent signal, "I'm starving myself, but I'd love company." As a vampire, I ate less than a normal human but still frequent enough that it would be considered normal, if close to the unhealthy side. But as for the true sustenance of the vampire, I wouldn't have to find a liter or two for another week or so. And yes, I say that because that's about as much as needed to last me a month. I didn't drink from live hosts, too many blood-born diseases, too much chance of exposure, and overall, just too much of a hassle. I would have to break into a blood bank or hospital of some kind. I should get started planning that if I was going to be ready when I truly got thirsty.

Dick's blood was still cloying in the air, sweet and a bit citrusy, like the most transcendental peach. If I ever had the opportunity to drink from him, I would most definitely take it. "Sure, I could eat."