August 21: Feast of the Heart
Title: Feast of the Heart
Author: Vashti (tvashti)
Rating: PG
Crossover: The Dark Knight Rises
Characters: John Blake, Commissioner James Gordon, Buffy Summers, Sarah the OC Slayer
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the words, and that's up for philosophical debate.
Summary: Oz was wrong: connections were the last thing John needed.
Warning: Spoilers for The Dark Knight Rises. If you haven't seen it, DO NOT read this fic.
Word Count: 1920 words
Author's notes: As mentioned, this fic is a spoiler TDKR. Also this dips into comic book territory for the Buffyverse b/c that's what works best for the story, but I haven't gotten very far into the comics so if it feels like it's been painted with broad strokes...yeah...
AN2: This follows All At Once, Filter, Transitions, They Keep Calling, Lights, Woven, Feels Like I'm Fiddlin', Advocate, You Don't Know Sarah, An Ordinary Morning, Family Ties, Hero Worship, Complex, Forward Motion, Midnight City and Rookie Magic
§§§
John sprinted from the elevator to the nurse’s station in a few strides. “I’m looking for my sister.”
The nurse on staff bent toward her computer. “Her name, sir?”
“It’s-“
A heavy hand on his shoulder interrupted him. “John.”
He turned. “Commissioner Gordon. Have you seen her? Do you know where she is? How did you know that Sarah was here? Did you know? Was it one-“
“Whoa, whoa…slow down, son.” With his hand on John’s shoulder, Gordon steared him away from the nurse’s station to the large picture windows in the waiting area. “I know you’re worried. I am, too. That’s why I’m here. But we can’t go in to see her just yet. There was…” Gordon hesitated. “There was a needle jammed into her back.” At John’s sharp intake, he quickly added. “They’re working on her now, son. Should be done at any moment.”
John dragged a hand over his face, trying to hold together in spite of the adrenaline that made him feel like he was flying apart. He inhaled deeply through his nose. Letting it out, he said, “Weren’t Barbara and Jimmy supposed to be visiting for the weekend?”
Gordon nodded. “There was some delay with their flight, so they won’t be getting off the ground until about six this morning. How are you doing, son?”
“I don’t know,” John answered honestly. “This…this is not the call I was expecting to get on my way home.” That lie he told glibly, but how easily it could be true.
“I know, son. I know.”
“Honestly?" He glanced over at Gordon. "Honestly, I just want to break something.”
Gordon nodded.
John found the nearest seat and dropped into it, bending over his knees as a wave of nausea struck. “Anyone told her sister?” he asked from between his knees.
“One of them’s in town?” They’d long ago explained to Gordon that Sarah’s ‘sisters’ were related by mutual affection and not blood.
John nodded. “The oldest.”
“Sorry, son, I didn’t know. I’d have had someone call her otherwise. Give me your phone and I’ll call her.”
John sat up long enough to fish it out before hunching over his knees again. He had not been expecting this. Gordon being at the hospital ahead of him? Likely. When Batman showed up in an ER with shaking and trembling comatose girl, claiming to have rescued her from an attack that included her being stuck with a needle full of an unidentified poison, you were guaranteed a hospital visit from the Police Commissioner himself. But this sudden wave of sickness twisting up his guts? He’d lived through worse in the system, and then again during Bane’s occupation. He knew why it was happening physically-unspent adrenaline, fear, anxiety and pure fury were a noxious mix-but he couldn’t wrap his head around it.
John shot up with an oath and paced the waiting area. Gordon watched him, but did nothing to stop the jerky motions. “What’s Sarah’s sister’s name, son?”
“Buffy.”
“Buffy? Not Buffy Summers?”
“Yeah, not a name I would have chosen either,” he said as he stopped at the far wall and stared at the over-patterned wallpaper. Punching it would hurt, but he was positive it’d make him feel better. He used to do a lot of punching before he figured out adults didn’t it.
“How do you know Buffy, son?”
“I stepped between her, her sisters and a mugger in the Czech Republic,” he repeated numbly. It was a really ugly wallpaper, too. Sarah hated this shade of pink. “Why?”
“Unless there’s another Buffy Summers running around Gotham City, it looks like Sarah’s sister has been consulting with the Department.”
John’s heart clenched. He and Buffy had already discussed this, after he’d dropped Sarah off in the ER. They had a plan and a story. "On what?"
"You know that missing persons case? The one Sarah’s been following in the news. With the college students."
She really hated this shade of pink. "Oh yeah? She said she was here on business. Didn’t say what."
"You wouldn’t happen to know-- John!"
It did hurt. A lot. And John had hit the wall loud enough to draw a nurse. But he was right. He felt better.
***
"I’m looking for Commissioner Gordon or Sarah Pradchaphet’s room. Actually, he’s probably in her room so if you could just give me that..."
John stood. "Buffy."
She turned and strode to him. "Thank God someone called you." She threw her arms around him. "We okay?" she whispered in his ear.
He nodded.
Releasing him, she said, "What’s the story? Have you heard from the doctor?"
"Doctors, Miss Summers," Gordon said. "She was in surgery until a few minutes ago, but none of her doctors have come out yet. I didn’t know you knew John, here."
"Saved me and the girls from a mugger. In all honesty we probably could have handled it ourselves, but it was a sweet gesture. There aren’t too many white knights left." She slipped her hand into his. "Hey! What’s this?" She lifted an examined his bandaged hand.
John pulled away from her scrutiny. "I don’t want to talk about it."
"He, uh, had a run-in with a wall," Gordon supplied, watching John walk away.
"It’s an ugly wall. Sarah would hate it. Will hate it."
Watching him, Buffy said, "I guess I should call the rest of the gang. Have you heard from Bats?"
Gordon shook his head. "Not since he dropped off Sarah. Did you get our guy?"
"Yeah. Detective Montoya has him for questioning under serious lock and key. It shouldn’t be too hard to get a confession out of him. Not that you’ll be able to keep him."
"Wait...what? Not keep him?"
"What are you going to charge him with, Commissioner? Kidnapping...sure why not. But what are you going to use as evidence, the decaying bodies of the Camazotz rotting in the street? Besides, you really don’t have the ability to hold on to him."
"I’m sure Sarah would be willing to testify," Gordon countered.
"Assuming she even saw what hit her. Batman spotted and rescued her. Is he testifiable?"
Spinning on his heel, Gordon swore and took a step away from her. Facing Buffy again, he said, "Can he at least give us enough evidence to nail Meroni to the wall? There’s a lot of families who be getting any closure if Meroni walks. Again."
She nodded. Sighing, Buffy ran her hands through her hair. "God, I feel so old. I could be one of those families. I’ve known Sarah since she was fifteen."
"She’s not...part of your group, is she?" Gordon asked softly.
Buffy shook her head. "She kinda fell in with us after her parents died. The internship at Wayne Enterprises was supposed to be it. Her launch-pad."
"Hey, let’s wait to hear what the doctors have to say before we count Sarah out."
John knew that everything Buffy said was for his and Sarah’s benefit, to protect their secret, but it still made him sick. Unclenching his fists, he turned away from the window intent on breaking in and changing the subject. Instead, his feet were carrying him beyond Buffy and Gordon-to the man striding purposefully their way. "Doctor?"
"You’re here for Ms. Pradchaphet?"
John feels Gordon and Buffy flanking him as he nods.
"Okay. She’s still in recovery. She didn’t respond well to our usual course of anesthetic--"
John nodded, unsurprised.
"-so she’s still pretty heavily sedated. But the needle that was lodged in her spine has been successfully removed with little apparent nerve damage. Unfortunately, we won’t know for sure for some time. Um...who here is family?" he asked, his eyes scanning over the three of them.
John raised his hand. "I’m her bro-legal guardian. I mean, I will be once the paperwork goes through. We just filed the paperwork the other day." Why was this so hard?
"Good enough for me," the doctor said. "If you don’t mind an audience."
"They’re like family to us."
"Okay. So, first of all, Ms. Pradchaphet is extremely lucky to be alive. You know tetanus poisoning, right? You get it from being scratched by a rusty nail, gives you lockjaw...?" At their nod, he continued, "It’s usually a slow, painful death that is treatable. Ms. Pradchaphet, however, had the toxin injected directly into her spine. To be honest with you all, she should have died on the spot. I’ve never seen anything like it...like whoever attacked her had intended it for an elephant. The needle we removed should have been the least of our worries."
Unclenching his jaw, John said, "What’s you’re point?"
"Ms. Pradchaphet has had serious, major nerve damage. At lower dosage, the toxin could have been counteracted and the effects reversed. With that much poison in her system, even though she is alive, I can’t tell you what the kind of nerve damage she might have sustained. I also can’t tell you how much she’ll recover.
"Right now, she literally can’t breathe on her own and so we have her on a respirator. When she wakes up, she’ll likely be paralyzed from the neck down. After that? Who can tell. Again, under normal circumstances I could give you a prognosis, tell you what comes after this. But this is so far from normal, we’ll have to keep her here under constant observation until she stabilizes."
John nodded, calmed somewhat by the doctor’s words, as Buffy slipped a hand into his. Nothing he had said was very surprising-he and Buffy had discussed possible results while he’d changed-but apparently he’d needed to hear it from a professional.
Gordon put a hand on his shoulder. "You all right, son?"
"I think so." To the doctor, he said, "Can I see her?"
"As soon as she wakes up from the anesthetics. Check in at the nurse’s station. I’ll be on duty all night, but I can’t promise I’ll be here."
"Thank you, Doctor--"
"Allen. Doctor Allen. And you’re Detective John Blake," he said, extending a hand.
John took it. "We’ve met?"
"Not personally. I remember everyone who helped keep the hospital going during the occupation. We’ll talk again later."
***
You were wrong. Connections are the last thing I need. Blake.
Sitting in the dark, watching Sarah’s chest rise and fall with the pulse of a machine as she slept, John’s thumb hovered over the send button. Was this what Oz had had in mind when he’d begun the alchemy that had knit Sarah to him? She would always have a place with the slayers. He’d always have his ties to St. Swithens and the GCPD. They would have been just fine without each other. He should have never let her come with him to Gotham. Hadn’t Wayne worked alone for all those years, himself the only one in danger of getting hurt? Now Sarah was paralyzed, permanently or not no one knew, and Buffy was promising to take over patrol until she was better.
John’s erased the message and started again. Did you mean I should let connections show me how precious life is? Too late. Blake. Which made no sense. He liked the first one better. He cleared the new one and started typing again, blunt fingers punched hard into the tiny buttons.
"John?"
He was up and out of his seat in an instant, phone and recriminations abandoned.
AN3: More on Tetanus poisoning here. Feast of the Heart by Jesca Hoop, here or here (though it's largely unrelated to the fic).
Author: Vashti (tvashti)
Rating: PG
Crossover: The Dark Knight Rises
Characters: John Blake, Commissioner James Gordon, Buffy Summers, Sarah the OC Slayer
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the words, and that's up for philosophical debate.
Summary: Oz was wrong: connections were the last thing John needed.
Warning: Spoilers for The Dark Knight Rises. If you haven't seen it, DO NOT read this fic.
Word Count: 1920 words
Author's notes: As mentioned, this fic is a spoiler TDKR. Also this dips into comic book territory for the Buffyverse b/c that's what works best for the story, but I haven't gotten very far into the comics so if it feels like it's been painted with broad strokes...yeah...
AN2: This follows All At Once, Filter, Transitions, They Keep Calling, Lights, Woven, Feels Like I'm Fiddlin', Advocate, You Don't Know Sarah, An Ordinary Morning, Family Ties, Hero Worship, Complex, Forward Motion, Midnight City and Rookie Magic
§§§
John sprinted from the elevator to the nurse’s station in a few strides. “I’m looking for my sister.”
The nurse on staff bent toward her computer. “Her name, sir?”
“It’s-“
A heavy hand on his shoulder interrupted him. “John.”
He turned. “Commissioner Gordon. Have you seen her? Do you know where she is? How did you know that Sarah was here? Did you know? Was it one-“
“Whoa, whoa…slow down, son.” With his hand on John’s shoulder, Gordon steared him away from the nurse’s station to the large picture windows in the waiting area. “I know you’re worried. I am, too. That’s why I’m here. But we can’t go in to see her just yet. There was…” Gordon hesitated. “There was a needle jammed into her back.” At John’s sharp intake, he quickly added. “They’re working on her now, son. Should be done at any moment.”
John dragged a hand over his face, trying to hold together in spite of the adrenaline that made him feel like he was flying apart. He inhaled deeply through his nose. Letting it out, he said, “Weren’t Barbara and Jimmy supposed to be visiting for the weekend?”
Gordon nodded. “There was some delay with their flight, so they won’t be getting off the ground until about six this morning. How are you doing, son?”
“I don’t know,” John answered honestly. “This…this is not the call I was expecting to get on my way home.” That lie he told glibly, but how easily it could be true.
“I know, son. I know.”
“Honestly?" He glanced over at Gordon. "Honestly, I just want to break something.”
Gordon nodded.
John found the nearest seat and dropped into it, bending over his knees as a wave of nausea struck. “Anyone told her sister?” he asked from between his knees.
“One of them’s in town?” They’d long ago explained to Gordon that Sarah’s ‘sisters’ were related by mutual affection and not blood.
John nodded. “The oldest.”
“Sorry, son, I didn’t know. I’d have had someone call her otherwise. Give me your phone and I’ll call her.”
John sat up long enough to fish it out before hunching over his knees again. He had not been expecting this. Gordon being at the hospital ahead of him? Likely. When Batman showed up in an ER with shaking and trembling comatose girl, claiming to have rescued her from an attack that included her being stuck with a needle full of an unidentified poison, you were guaranteed a hospital visit from the Police Commissioner himself. But this sudden wave of sickness twisting up his guts? He’d lived through worse in the system, and then again during Bane’s occupation. He knew why it was happening physically-unspent adrenaline, fear, anxiety and pure fury were a noxious mix-but he couldn’t wrap his head around it.
John shot up with an oath and paced the waiting area. Gordon watched him, but did nothing to stop the jerky motions. “What’s Sarah’s sister’s name, son?”
“Buffy.”
“Buffy? Not Buffy Summers?”
“Yeah, not a name I would have chosen either,” he said as he stopped at the far wall and stared at the over-patterned wallpaper. Punching it would hurt, but he was positive it’d make him feel better. He used to do a lot of punching before he figured out adults didn’t it.
“How do you know Buffy, son?”
“I stepped between her, her sisters and a mugger in the Czech Republic,” he repeated numbly. It was a really ugly wallpaper, too. Sarah hated this shade of pink. “Why?”
“Unless there’s another Buffy Summers running around Gotham City, it looks like Sarah’s sister has been consulting with the Department.”
John’s heart clenched. He and Buffy had already discussed this, after he’d dropped Sarah off in the ER. They had a plan and a story. "On what?"
"You know that missing persons case? The one Sarah’s been following in the news. With the college students."
She really hated this shade of pink. "Oh yeah? She said she was here on business. Didn’t say what."
"You wouldn’t happen to know-- John!"
It did hurt. A lot. And John had hit the wall loud enough to draw a nurse. But he was right. He felt better.
***
"I’m looking for Commissioner Gordon or Sarah Pradchaphet’s room. Actually, he’s probably in her room so if you could just give me that..."
John stood. "Buffy."
She turned and strode to him. "Thank God someone called you." She threw her arms around him. "We okay?" she whispered in his ear.
He nodded.
Releasing him, she said, "What’s the story? Have you heard from the doctor?"
"Doctors, Miss Summers," Gordon said. "She was in surgery until a few minutes ago, but none of her doctors have come out yet. I didn’t know you knew John, here."
"Saved me and the girls from a mugger. In all honesty we probably could have handled it ourselves, but it was a sweet gesture. There aren’t too many white knights left." She slipped her hand into his. "Hey! What’s this?" She lifted an examined his bandaged hand.
John pulled away from her scrutiny. "I don’t want to talk about it."
"He, uh, had a run-in with a wall," Gordon supplied, watching John walk away.
"It’s an ugly wall. Sarah would hate it. Will hate it."
Watching him, Buffy said, "I guess I should call the rest of the gang. Have you heard from Bats?"
Gordon shook his head. "Not since he dropped off Sarah. Did you get our guy?"
"Yeah. Detective Montoya has him for questioning under serious lock and key. It shouldn’t be too hard to get a confession out of him. Not that you’ll be able to keep him."
"Wait...what? Not keep him?"
"What are you going to charge him with, Commissioner? Kidnapping...sure why not. But what are you going to use as evidence, the decaying bodies of the Camazotz rotting in the street? Besides, you really don’t have the ability to hold on to him."
"I’m sure Sarah would be willing to testify," Gordon countered.
"Assuming she even saw what hit her. Batman spotted and rescued her. Is he testifiable?"
Spinning on his heel, Gordon swore and took a step away from her. Facing Buffy again, he said, "Can he at least give us enough evidence to nail Meroni to the wall? There’s a lot of families who be getting any closure if Meroni walks. Again."
She nodded. Sighing, Buffy ran her hands through her hair. "God, I feel so old. I could be one of those families. I’ve known Sarah since she was fifteen."
"She’s not...part of your group, is she?" Gordon asked softly.
Buffy shook her head. "She kinda fell in with us after her parents died. The internship at Wayne Enterprises was supposed to be it. Her launch-pad."
"Hey, let’s wait to hear what the doctors have to say before we count Sarah out."
John knew that everything Buffy said was for his and Sarah’s benefit, to protect their secret, but it still made him sick. Unclenching his fists, he turned away from the window intent on breaking in and changing the subject. Instead, his feet were carrying him beyond Buffy and Gordon-to the man striding purposefully their way. "Doctor?"
"You’re here for Ms. Pradchaphet?"
John feels Gordon and Buffy flanking him as he nods.
"Okay. She’s still in recovery. She didn’t respond well to our usual course of anesthetic--"
John nodded, unsurprised.
"-so she’s still pretty heavily sedated. But the needle that was lodged in her spine has been successfully removed with little apparent nerve damage. Unfortunately, we won’t know for sure for some time. Um...who here is family?" he asked, his eyes scanning over the three of them.
John raised his hand. "I’m her bro-legal guardian. I mean, I will be once the paperwork goes through. We just filed the paperwork the other day." Why was this so hard?
"Good enough for me," the doctor said. "If you don’t mind an audience."
"They’re like family to us."
"Okay. So, first of all, Ms. Pradchaphet is extremely lucky to be alive. You know tetanus poisoning, right? You get it from being scratched by a rusty nail, gives you lockjaw...?" At their nod, he continued, "It’s usually a slow, painful death that is treatable. Ms. Pradchaphet, however, had the toxin injected directly into her spine. To be honest with you all, she should have died on the spot. I’ve never seen anything like it...like whoever attacked her had intended it for an elephant. The needle we removed should have been the least of our worries."
Unclenching his jaw, John said, "What’s you’re point?"
"Ms. Pradchaphet has had serious, major nerve damage. At lower dosage, the toxin could have been counteracted and the effects reversed. With that much poison in her system, even though she is alive, I can’t tell you what the kind of nerve damage she might have sustained. I also can’t tell you how much she’ll recover.
"Right now, she literally can’t breathe on her own and so we have her on a respirator. When she wakes up, she’ll likely be paralyzed from the neck down. After that? Who can tell. Again, under normal circumstances I could give you a prognosis, tell you what comes after this. But this is so far from normal, we’ll have to keep her here under constant observation until she stabilizes."
John nodded, calmed somewhat by the doctor’s words, as Buffy slipped a hand into his. Nothing he had said was very surprising-he and Buffy had discussed possible results while he’d changed-but apparently he’d needed to hear it from a professional.
Gordon put a hand on his shoulder. "You all right, son?"
"I think so." To the doctor, he said, "Can I see her?"
"As soon as she wakes up from the anesthetics. Check in at the nurse’s station. I’ll be on duty all night, but I can’t promise I’ll be here."
"Thank you, Doctor--"
"Allen. Doctor Allen. And you’re Detective John Blake," he said, extending a hand.
John took it. "We’ve met?"
"Not personally. I remember everyone who helped keep the hospital going during the occupation. We’ll talk again later."
***
You were wrong. Connections are the last thing I need. Blake.
Sitting in the dark, watching Sarah’s chest rise and fall with the pulse of a machine as she slept, John’s thumb hovered over the send button. Was this what Oz had had in mind when he’d begun the alchemy that had knit Sarah to him? She would always have a place with the slayers. He’d always have his ties to St. Swithens and the GCPD. They would have been just fine without each other. He should have never let her come with him to Gotham. Hadn’t Wayne worked alone for all those years, himself the only one in danger of getting hurt? Now Sarah was paralyzed, permanently or not no one knew, and Buffy was promising to take over patrol until she was better.
John’s erased the message and started again. Did you mean I should let connections show me how precious life is? Too late. Blake. Which made no sense. He liked the first one better. He cleared the new one and started typing again, blunt fingers punched hard into the tiny buttons.
"John?"
He was up and out of his seat in an instant, phone and recriminations abandoned.
AN3: More on Tetanus poisoning here. Feast of the Heart by Jesca Hoop, here or here (though it's largely unrelated to the fic).