Who: Luke & Thomas (Later w/ a side of Jane!) What: Thomas takes care of Luke and calls Jane to make sure he's okay. Where:Batcave Warehouse When: Friday morning (12/10) Warnings: PG-13 due to references to violence?
The cold that awaited them outside the plant was actually welcome in comparison to what he’d dealt with inside the freezer. At least it was natural and came with a vast expanse of sky that meant freedom, and he breathed in as much of the night air as he could before his lungs started to burn. During the last few days Luke hadn’t thought he would make it this far, not without sacrificing Wren in the process, but his relief was overshadowed by other things. Guilt was the strongest, followed closely by worry and even shame. It felt like there was everything and nothing to say at the same time, so he opted for the latter and kept silent. Weariness made it easy for everything pass by in a blur, and he didn’t think about what was happening as much as he just let it happen. First he was outside and then he was inside a familiar car, staring out the window without really seeing anything. He kept a hand around his neck without even realizing it, fingers brushing absently at the marks the rope left behind.
It was only when the car came to a halt that he finally seemed to snap back to attention, hesitating momentarily before allowing himself to be led inside the warehouse. He was aware enough to recognize that it was safe, secure, and probably the next best thing to a hospital. In comparison to Thomas, though, Luke didn’t think what injuries he had were anything serious - bruises and marks would fade, but bullet wounds were something else entirely. His own lack of food and water over the past few days seemed to have slipped his mind judging by the way he looked at the IV when it was slid into his arm, but after a couple of moments he simply sighed, leaning back and tugging the thermal blanket - which he hadn’t let go of yet - closer around himself. His focus was fickle, sliding in and out of awareness, but ironically enough he was too tired to sleep.
After what felt like hours, but in reality was only a couple of minutes at best, Luke forced himself to actually start paying attention to what Thomas was doing. “It isn’t bad, is it?” He was referring to his gunshot wound, not realizing that the lack of clarification could be mistaken for something else.
Since the medical area of the warehouse, the same one that they had first met in, was enclosed, Thomas had a small, ordinary-looking space heater that he had going almost the second they were there. He pulled the cowl off so he could better see what he was doing, the gauntlets that got in the way, and the gloves too, despite the customizations he’d made in the interest of dexterity. He pulled out one of those generic gray wool blankets from one of the cupboards and put that over the Luke. It was so large it went over the crinkling thermal one and entirely covered the curving bed and Luke besides.
Now with very thin medic’s gloves, Thomas was carefully dabbing painless antiseptic on the rope burns at Luke’s neck, focusing entirely on what he was doing rather than how the wounds got there. “No, you won’t even scar if we treat it properly,” Thomas replied, obviously without thinking. He dropped that bit of bloody cotton into a silver bin, all hospital supply stock, and picked up another one. He was moving stiffly whenever he turned or bent, but there wasn’t any other sign of damage. There wouldn’t be while he still had the suit on, anyway.
“You need to stay still and rest for at least a week and we need to watch your metabolism. Did they give you anything to eat at all?” He sounded acutely distance, extremely clinical, because he was doing his absolute best to stay that way. He should have taken both of them to the hospital.
The space heater along with the extra blanket provided more warmth than he’d felt in days, and the latter also allowed him to finally be properly covered up; both were a welcome relief. It took a moment for Luke to realize that his question had been misunderstood, but he didn’t immediately respond or try to correct himself. While the antiseptic itself and the way it was being applied wasn’t painful, he couldn’t help tensing up every time Thomas dabbed at the rope burns. It was an instinctive reaction that he did his best to hide, trying to focus his attention on the IV in his arm instead. “Wasn’t what I meant,” he muttered belatedly, though still without elaboration.
Resting for a week didn’t sound so bad, not when that was all he felt like doing at the moment anyway. He’d make sure somehow that word got out to Bunny and Quinn that he was fine and that Wren was checked up on as well. Thomas’ question was met with a prolonged silence before he shook his head slowly. “No. They didn’t give us anything.”
Thomas took his hands back at this confirmation, just in case they shook with the anger he immediately suppressed. It only took him a few seconds, but it was enough of a pause that he leaned against the bed a moment before continuing what I was doing. He drew back again as Luke tensed, more deeply apologetic than for anything else he’d ever done. “I don’t want it to get infected,” he said, as if answering a silent question. He didn’t touch him again, though. His eyes slid down to the IV, following Luke’s gaze and back up. “You’re sure about the hospital?”
Luke frowned, annoyed with himself for not being able to control his reactions properly. It was irrational anyway, since he was fine now and no longer in any danger, but apparently that wasn’t registering as it should have. “I know. Sorry. It’s not...” He trailed off, trying and failing to come up with the words to explain as the sentence faded away. Instead he shifted his attention to the prospect of going to the hospital, which was something he didn’t want whatsoever despite the fact that there was some sense to it. “I’m sure,” he said firmly, dragging his gaze upward and away from the IV. “I don’t need a hospital.” He wasn’t in any state to argue, but he wasn’t going to budge either.
There was a pause before he decided to return to his earlier intended question, this time with a quieter tone. “Your gunshot wound. Is it bad?”
Thomas looked doubtful, but he didn’t immediately argue. Instead he said, “I’m calling Jane to make sure you don’t need better treatment than I can give. If she agrees, then no hospital.” He didn’t yet make a move to contact her, though, waiting for Luke’s agreement with a grave expression. At the question he glanced reflectively down. “It distributes the force,” he said, turning slightly to look over his shoulder in an attempt to see his lower back and side, where the bullet had marred the armor. There was no blood, but even Thomas winced as he twisted again. “I’ll be fine. Big bruise.” And chance of internal bleeding, but Jane would dispel that concern, hopefully.
The lack of blood wasn’t as reassuring as it could have been, not when he knew how well armor could hide injuries and he’d seen how the impact sent Thomas down. “Still. It was a close shot.” It shouldn’t have even happened in the first place, and he carefully avoided thinking about what might have happened if Nightwing hadn’t shown up when he did.
Initially he wanted to refuse, but after a moment of thought he realized that Jane was far more trustworthy than any of the doctors at the hospital and at least she could make sure the bullet hadn’t done any serious damage. In terms of himself Luke balked at the possibility that she might determine that he did need a hospital, but he’d already done enough damage as it was and putting his health at risk because he didn’t want to be stuck in another hospital room for a week would be selfish. He had to do at least one thing right in all of this. “Okay. Call Jane.”
Not wanting to distract, and needing the support and pressure of the armor if he did have lasting damage, he didn’t change. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” He kept himself from asking more about the ordeal, because Jane would tell him if there was any more physical damage. The rest... would be dealt with in time. He hoped. All he could do was hope.
Thomas sent a brief message to Jane with a device from somewhere under the cape, and then he found another cotton swab and the antiseptic. Cool, distantly medical fingers gently touched Luke’s chin up and out of the way. “It’s almost done. She’ll be here soon. Rest.”
Despite wanting to stay awake, Luke was beginning to think forcing himself to sleep was the better option. He couldn’t even walk down the street during the day without getting himself into trouble, and worst of all he should have been able to do something about it - but he hadn’t. He couldn’t even save himself, never mind Wren or anyone else, and he knew very well what would have happened if Thomas and Nightwing hadn’t shown up. Neither of them would’ve gotten out of that plant alive, and he hated that feeling of helplessness now just as much as he had then. Apparently all he was capable of doing was making people worry more instead of less.
“Alright.” He turned his gaze to the other side of the warehouse, feeling a pang of guilt when he thought of all the people he’d need to talk to. Bunny, Quinn and Wren were at the top of his list - but he couldn’t see them now anyway, so there was no point in worrying about it. “Let everyone know I’m okay,” he muttered, closing his eyes. For now he just wanted to pretend none of this was happening, and sleep was his best option. Fortunately it didn’t take more than a few seconds for the darkness to slip in and take him.
Jane hadn't heard about what had happened with Luke, because no one told her anything, and she hadn't bothered to ask. She didn't ask questions, didn't pry more than needed, and only responded when called. That way, when questioned, she had as little information as possible that could possibly implicate those she worked with. This worked out best for everyone in her opinion. She didn't appreciate Thomas' tone, that early in the morning, but there was something about the shortness of it that made her move quickly. It wasn't Oracle that had called her as she'd done to work with Sentinel. No, it was Thomas at an address that was not the Aubade. That alone had made her move even faster.
She’d been sleeping when he’d called her and moved about sluggishly, much to her chagrin. She was thankful Toby slept with Daryl. She left her a note saying she was going out for an emergency housecall. There weren't any details left, but she just didn't want Daryl to wake up and worry when she wasn't there.
Jane let the taxi drop her off a bit aways from where she was going. The driver didn't bother to ask her where she was going as she walked toward the nearest building as he drove off. After he'd turned the corner, she changed her direction and moved along to where she needed to go. She tugged her coat tighter to protect against the cold, bag in hand. She could have been easily annoyed with this whole thing, but the fact of the matter was, that she had agreed to this.
She thought of that when she reached the warehouse she'd been given the address to. She was well aware of whee she was, which made her frown considering Daryl had known Batman was here. She'd be lucky if the woman didn't come back over here to investigate closer. She looked around for a way to let them know she was there. She settled for curling her gloved fingers and rapped on the door with her knuckles.
Thomas had that place so wired that it might as well have been a federal building, and he saw Jane coming from half a mile off. He verified that the taxi had continued back toward the city proper and then he followed her progress until she landed right on the doorstep. He had the door open before she could knock a second time, and the floor to ceiling facade of refrigerator cartons was behind him--half ajar because it was another door, not actual cartons. It was a sign of the gravity of the situation that he met her in half-armor, missing gauntlets and gloves but still concealed from toe to neck in enough armor to stop a bullet--which, as he turned, it became apparent that it recently had. He did not preamble his explanation with a greeting.
“Luke,” he said as they moved rapidly through the huge warehouse with its clusters of space into lab, training, research, outfitting and, finally, the redone office for medical, “was kidnapped approximately seventy-three hours ago. I haven’t seen any life-threatening trauma but they didn’t feed him.” He looked like death, and the fact that not a trace of tangible or visible anger was coming off him was a very frightening sign. He was internalizing all of it. “Please make sure the drip is going to be enough.”
Jane was startled when the door opened before she could hit it the second time. It was way too early for this and she'd...admittedly had a bit of a crazy night before. It obviously wasn't the same kind of crazy they'd had. She blinked attempting to take in what Thomas was saying, mostly due to the tone of his voice. He'd started moving so fast, she found herself a few steps further behind him than anticipated. Brows furrowing, she took in the information, somewhat marveling at the state of the place. It was...not what she'd expected.
Once they were in the room, she was thankful for the heat. The cold had done more than enough to sober her up from the groggy after morning effects and drowsiness, but it didn't do as much as seeing Luke in his state. He was as pale as a sheet and unconscious and she shed her jacket and her gloves within a few strides of crossing the room, dropping them on the nearest available pieces of furniture. She only hesitated a moment to prep herself before pressing her fingers delicately against his skin.
"The IV will be fine. In fact, you should keep feeding him with it for a another day at least. After that keep him on clear liquids. Broths, water, apple juice. Don't want him to try to eat too fast." There wasn't much they could do outside of the heating other than rehydrate him. "Are you leaving anything out?" She didn't know where he'd been, but what he'd been through. His vitals were stable but he wasn't in the clear just yet.
Thomas shook his head slowly, and he sat down heavily on a stool that had been appropriated from the lab section of the warehouse and propped at the side of Luke’s bed. “I thought there might be something he left out.” Something worse than starving, and Thomas’ imagination was too good. The relief took some of the hard edges from his expression, strain cracking through the cold barriers he had put up between himself and his emotions to keep functioning.
She smoothed Luke's hair from his face, before turning his head slightly to check his neck. She then grabbed some chapstick from her purse. She rubbed some against his lips, because they were super dry. It wasn't much, but she felt he looked a little better. She might have just met the guy, but she'd liked what she'd seen. This was not the way he should meet his end.
After a minute, she looked over at Thomas, only then taking in the fact that he was in his costume. She gave him a long look. It wasn't the time to talk him about what happened. Without hesitation or permission, she stepped over and took his hand.
Thomas had taken a bullet from a very short distance away. He had the best armor money could buy, and beyond that, of a Musings design, but he was still living because he had just started to turn and taken the projectile at an angle. This time the distributed force had taken him just under the right shoulderblade, closer to the spine than his side. An inch or so higher and he probably would have had a broken scapula, but as it was the bruising was exceptionally deep. Thomas’ ability meant that seventy-four hours awake resembled one all-nighter, but there was still some detectable effects of fatigue.
Waking up wasn’t a conscious effort - if he’d had it his way, he would have stayed asleep and blissfully unaware of everything for a little while longer - but apparently his body had other ideas. It might have been the sensation of something rubbing against his lips, or maybe it was just a random reaction, but whatever it was caused him to jerk awake suddenly without being initially aware of where he was. His gaze was wary and unsure as he stared at Thomas and Jane for a long moment, but Luke relaxed once he recognized them properly and everything came flooding back.
He hoped she hadn’t decided he needed a hospital while he was asleep, but he was distracted from asking when he saw Jane had hold of Thomas’ hand. “How bad is it?” The question was directed entirely at her, because if it was bad he wanted the truth instead of an offhand ‘I’m fine’ to keep him from worrying. If they hadn’t yet noticed he was awake, well, they’d know now.
Jane's eyes narrowed at Thomas. She just looked upset, like she was on the verge of saying something, but she didn't. There was nothing there for her to put him in bed over and she knew he was going to be stubborn if she'd told him to rest. The look would relay her opinion on the matter regardless.
Luke had stirred when she touched him, but he hadn't opened his eyes. She assumed he was just out due to being tired, so his voice surprised her, not that she showed it. Instead, when he asked the question, she looked at him with an expression that was a lot softer than the one she afforded Thomas just moments before. "I think you'll do fine." It wasn't the exact truth. Considering the state of his body, she'd have to touch him again in an hour or two to make sure he was making some progress.
She let go of Thomas' hand, rubbing her own against the back of her jeans. "You think you can tell me what they did to you?" She only got what the body told her was wrong the moment she touched it, not like a full run of whatever was going to happen. Having a little more information wouldn't hurt.
Thomas looked as if he might order Luke to rest again, but Jane was asking medical questions and he wanted as much to know the exact details as she did. He watched Luke closely for signs of distress, however, acknowledging Jane’s quelling look with an unrepentant lift of his shoulder. The good one--which, two months ago, had been the bad one. Things were funny that way. At least she did not look grave or sympathetic, which meant there was no internal bleeding and he would be fine. Good. One less thing for Luke to worry about.
Not wanting to subject Luke to a second pair of questioning eyes, but still not willing to leave the room, he shifted painfully on the stool and started undoing the clips that kept the armor on the suit.
Luke shook his head immediately, biting back his frustration the best he could. “Not me. I want to know if he’s okay.” Judging by Jane’s look he could guess that the bullet had done some damage, but if it had been a life-threatening injury then he assumed she would have looked more concerned or sympathetic rather than upset. It was a relief to know that he was going to be okay too, though. It would have been horrible beyond words to have gone through all that only to die now.
"He is going to be fine," Jane said just after Luke asked. Thomas was going to be fine, considering how quickly he seemed to recover. It was curious, but she'd never actually asked him about his powers specifically. "He's a fast healer and I don't have to reset anything," she assured him, just to make sure he wasn't going to press.
It was evident from the way he tensed under the blanket that he was less than thrilled by the thought of telling Jane what they’d done to him, but he reasoned that she was only concerned with anything that would have had physical repercussions. That was a lot easier than talking about the other things, those that left their mark in less visible ways. “Yeah, I guess,” he said slowly, glancing towards Thomas with a hint of hesitation. “They didn’t hit me too much, except here--” He brought a hand to his temple, careful to refrain from actually touching the spot. “One of them got me pretty hard when I bit him.” He’d broken the skin with that one, he remembered, and even thinking about it now provided a faint sense of satisfaction. “Um... they had a rope around my neck, like a noose, and kept it tight.” Luke paused. “Really tight, most of the time, and they... pulled a lot.” He figured the marks were enough to explain what happened without going into too much detail. “I was kept in a freezer, one of those big walk-in ones, and when they did let me out to wash the water was always freezing. They didn’t give me anything to eat either.”
It was better to disassociate himself from what he was describing, which was why what he said sounded so distant. If he was going to let himself actually remember every detail and properly absorb it all then he’d do it when he was alone.
Watching him, Jane saw something she really didn't want to see in a person his age. She'd seen it quite a few times, but that was different. Privates in the army were not regular college students who weren't part of the war. True, Luke had decided to join in just like the soldiers she'd worked alongside each day and night, but it didn't mean she wanted to liken him to a participant in a war. It was a war out there, and as much as people wanted to gloss it over and ignore it, it was getting worse. It wasn't Robin who'd been kidnapped and subjected to the things the young man described, it was the civilian, the newly appointed heir, possible perceived as easy prey Luke Henry that had been kidnapped.
The description of what had happened explained just about everything she needed to know. She took his hand again, giving it a squeeze when he finished. She wasn't the coddling kind, but she understood the importance of a human touch in stressful situations. "Thank you," she said sincerely appreciating the effort he took to explain things to her.
Giving Luke's hand another small squeeze, she looked up at Thomas. "Stick to the plan I told you." She then turned her attention back to Luke. "By the end of the week, you should be back to solid foods, although small solids." Releasing her hold on him, she moved over to where Thomas was undoing his buckles. If this hadn't been such a serious situation, she would've looked forward to the possible eye candy it stored beneath, but for now she simply crossed her arms over her stomach. She didn't bother to lower her voice. "I'd like to stay and monitor him for the next few hours if that's okay with you."
Broken out of iced over rage and regrets, Thomas looked up from what he was doing. “Alright. We called the police on the way back, though. As someone closely associated with me, they might be looking for you in a few hours.” It would have been appropriate for him to sound apologetic, but he did not. The armor came off in pieces, and the clips attached to places on a garment that fit him much like a wetsuit fit a scuba diver. He sighed a little as he got out of the boots, which were the heaviest, in his opinion. He winced once he was out of the shoulders. “I’d feel better if you kept an eye on him,” he admitted, glancing for the first time at Luke in the bed and revealing a hint of uncharacteristic vulnerability. “Safer if you stay here while you recover. I’ll get you a phone so you can talk to your friends.”
Luke simply nodded, appreciating the fact that Jane wasn’t overly sympathetic or pitying. That was the last thing he wanted at the moment, and fortunately the only other person there wasn’t the coddling sort either. As long as he didn’t have to go to the hospital he didn’t really care about staying in the warehouse - it was familiar, for starters, and it wasn’t a place many people knew about. He didn’t say anything when she mentioned solid foods or when it was agreed that she would stay to monitor him, because as much as he hated having everyone worry about him he could recognize that it was justified. Just because he’d become accustomed to the pain and the hunger didn’t mean it was no longer a problem.
He did glance up at the mention of a phone. Even if he couldn’t see anyone for a while yet, talking to them would go a long way. He needed to let Bunny and Quinn know he was alive, and he needed to make sure Wren was being taken care of. “Okay. Thanks.” He’d call once he managed to get some more sleep.
"I'll cross that bridge when I get there," she said without missing a beat. It wouldn't be the first time she'd had to handle being questioned by the police and it certainly wouldn't be the last. "But for now..." she didn't finish the sentence, she just looked at where Luke laid on the bed attempting to get some rest. It was just a few hours. Daryl will say she made a house call. The police could wait. Everything would be fine.