The Dead Don’t Knock — DC x DP AU (Part 2)
Jason didn’t remember standing.
One second he was on his knees in shattered concrete, lungs burning, vision green and blurred.
The next, he was upright.
Balanced.
Calm in a way that felt artificial — like someone had turned down the volume on fear.
Clockwork’s hand rested lightly on his shoulder.
Behind him, the glowing barrier hummed softly.
Jason could see Bruce through it now — rigid, furious, terrified in a way Jason hadn’t seen since the warehouse, since the crowbar, since the Lazarus Pit.
“Let him go,” Bruce snarled, fists slamming uselessly into the light.
Clockwork didn’t even glance back.
“This moment is not for interruption,” he said gently.
Jason swallowed. “You put them in a bubble.”
“A courtesy,” Clockwork corrected. “Their panic would only complicate your thinking.”
“Yeah,” Jason muttered. “That tracks.”
The street was eerily silent now. No sirens. No screaming. Even the wind felt paused.
Time.
Of course it was.
“You erased that thing,” Jason said. “The golem.”
“Returned it to the flow,” Clockwork replied. “It was never meant to exist as it did.”
Jason frowned. “And the others? The blobs. The freaky glow-worm ghosts.”
Clockwork’s lips twitched faintly. “Restless spirits drawn to an anomaly.”
Jason stiffened.
“Me.”
“Yes.”
The word landed heavy.
Jason laughed weakly. “Figures. I die once and now I’m paranormal catnip.”
Clockwork studied him with unsettling intensity.
“You crossed when you should have continued,” he said. “Your soul remembers death. The dead recognize it.”
Jason’s fingers curled.
“So they’re coming because I’m… what. Half ghost?”
“Not ghost,” Clockwork corrected. “Not living. Something in between.”
Jason exhaled slowly.
Great.
The barrier shimmered as Dick struck it again.
“Jay! Listen to me!” Dick shouted. “Whatever he’s doing to you, fight it!”
Jason winced.
“He’s not hurting me,” Jason called back.
The sound didn’t carry.
Clockwork had muted him too.
Of course.
“You could let them hear me,” Jason said.
“I could,” Clockwork agreed.
“But they would attempt violence.”
“Fair.”
Clockwork gestured, and the barrier faded slightly — just enough for sound to slip through.
Jason turned quickly.
“I’m okay!” he shouted. “I think. He’s not attacking me!”
Bruce’s voice cut through instantly. “Step away from him, Jason.”
Clockwork finally looked at Bruce.
Ah.
That was Batman.
“Your concern is logical,” Clockwork said calmly. “But unnecessary.”
“You are restraining my son.”
“Temporarily.”
Jason grimaced. “You’re really not helping your case, man.”
Clockwork sighed like a patient teacher.
“Balance is disturbed,” he said, addressing all of them now. “This child’s resurrection created a beacon for displaced souls. Gotham will continue to suffer.”
Bruce’s jaw tightened. “We’ll handle it.”
“You cannot.”
Silence.
Tim swallowed hard. “He’s right,” he said quietly. “Whatever energy this is—it’s centered on Jason. We can’t disrupt it without—”
“Without risking him,” Barbara finished.
Jason’s chest tightened.
Clockwork turned back to him. “They will keep coming,” he said softly. “Stronger. Angrier. More aware.”
Jason thought of the shelter.
The kids’ screams.
The golem’s hand crushing his helmet.
“How bad does it get?” he asked.
Clockwork’s eyes darkened.
“Catastrophic.”
Jason closed his eyes.
Figures.
Clockwork raised a hand.
Reality shimmered.
A small table appeared beside them — white cloth, porcelain cups, steam rising.
Jason’s stomach twisted.
Alfred’s tea set.
Of course it was.
“Emotional familiarity encourages honesty,” Clockwork said mildly.
“You are so creepy,” Jason muttered.
Clockwork smiled.
“Sit with me,” he said.
“Talk.”
Jason hesitated.
Bruce shook his head sharply.
“Jason—no.”
Jason met his father’s eyes through the fading barrier.
For once, Bruce looked powerless.
Jason sighed.
“Sorry, B.”
And sat.
Clockwork poured tea with careful grace.
“You may remain,” he said, “but not as you are.”
Jason tensed. “Here it comes.”
“I will stabilize you,” Clockwork continued. “Anchor your soul properly to time. The dead will no longer be drawn in destructive ways.”
“And the price?”
Clockwork’s gaze sharpened.
“Training.”
“Supervision.”
“A tether to my domain.”
Jason barked a humorless laugh. “So I become your weird time intern.”
“A guardian of balance,” Clockwork corrected.
Jason stared into the tea.
“Do I get to keep my family?”
Clockwork’s voice softened. “Yes.”
Jason’s breath hitched.
“Do they stay safe?”
“Yes.”
Silence stretched.
Jason thought of dying alone.
Of coming back wrong.
Of the dead calling his name in the dark.
Of Bruce’s hands shaking when he thought Jason couldn’t see.
“…I’m listening,” Jason said finally.
Clockwork smiled.
And somewhere in Gotham, the restless dead went quiet.
For now.
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