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A demon's travel after death

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“It won’t budge.”

“Leave it in. We just stopped the bleeding.”

 

Voices stirred through Damian’s deep sea of mind explorations and rose him to something akin to a light dreamless slumber. He felt his body again, pressing down as if laying on his side and numbness in his chest. He slowly rose from the sea, back to the world around him.

“Are they sure he’s not a vampire? He’s halfway through the second bag of blood.”

“He just lost a lot of blood, he will need it. Besides, the files said they already tested him.”

“Tested for being a vampire? How?”

“How should I know? Maybe they snuck some garlic in his food or made him go through a hall of mirrors.”

“oh my god. Imagen trapping Dracula by luring him into a hall of mirrors. He would be pissed off walking into mirror after mirror.”

The other seemed ready to berate by the sound of the sigh, but couldn't say anything before a loud boom and big jolt struck. Then everything was abruptly shaking, and he noticed himself being pulled away at the same time as he was being held in place. Straps held him down as his light body wished to stay in the air.

“What in the world is going on out there?!”

“We’re hit.” A strained voice gritted out a little further away than the others. “I have to do a controlled landing- controlled crash landing. Either way, get back in your seats.”

Damian could hear the two next to him scramble as he gave up relaxing his breathing and meditating. However, before he could push open his heavy eyelids the shaking came back worse than ever and loose boxes started sliding forth and back.

They were crashing. He could hear the bottom of their transport scraping up itself and the ground as everything was wildly jumping around inside. Rather than opening them, Damian screwed his eyes shut as small paper boxes fell on him and something that laid on his head. One of the voices where in between screaming and whimpering in the background.

Then it went still, and so it also went quiet.

Pulse clamping in his head and beating loudly, Damian listened for anything or anyone as he laid ridged on his side.

“Oh god… How’s everybody?”

“Shaken, but good. Seems like we didn’t secure the small boxes on the middle shelf good enough. How about you, agent?”

Said agent left a pause before answering in a strained voice: “Can’t move my leg.”

Damian opened his eyes to see feathers and a man quickly unbuckling himself and hurry off to where the strained voice came from. The other person following suit but only taking one step before stopping and standing behind.

“Shit. The yoke’s crushing your femur. Hey, come help here. We need to lift it off, or at least ease the pressure.”

In two quick strides, Damian was left alone. Looking up he found that the feathered lump on his head was his trusted microraptor, Boudica. Nudging her to sit by his head instead of on it, he gave himself a checkover. He had honestly forgotten all about the arrow before looking down to free himself from the straps. The cloth around it was cut and bandages was wrapped around where it was exiting his flesh. Avoiding touching it, or it touching anything, he moved sluggishly at first, but were quick to get out and sit up on the gurney. A second later he tugged the tube to the blood-bag out and was on his feet.

“Careful.”

“Trying ‘hngh’ it’s like lifting a bus. Can’t we cut it off?”

“With ‘huff’ what?”

Damian didn’t bother to think it over. Someone that tried to help him was in trouble. With the shortest legs in the ship, he had to take more than two strides to reach the cockpit but where nonetheless hasty.

All eyes turned surprised to him when he entered. Two people in what seemed like a mixture of scrubs and fireman’s suit stood/squatted on each side of an agent of SHIELD. The agent squinted, clearly in pain, and didn’t seem to properly focus on the new figure that entered.

“What are you- you need to lie down.” The medical worker that spoke barely looked at Damian’s face before locking on to the arrowhead.

Ignoring any comment or protest, Damian stepped up to the agent’s left side and pushed the medic lightly away with a click of his tounge and a flat “Move.”

With one hand, the boy lifted the yoke and the joint consoles that had loosened and pressed on to the agent’s body. The medics, with the help of a harsh stare from the boy, quickly snapped out of their surprise and pulled the agent out of the seat and to sit against the wall.

A minute of arguing later, Damian was sitting with an iv to his left hand, Boudica balanced on his right shoulder, and the agent taking his earlier place on the gurney. They had tried to get out, but the door wouldn’t budge. The agent guessed that the crash might have fried their systems, until the two heroes that had sent them off were back and opened the door for them.

Outside, the world was changed to say the least. Damian was sure he hadn’t even been out of it for an hour. Now, flames licked the top of the tallest skyscrapers and ice covered the roads and crawled up to the big windows of street shops. Boudica took flight, but didn't soar higher than the nearby lamps.

Damian turned to Ava while Peter helped the wounded agent out. “What happened?”

“Loki.”

Damian wondered if that was an answer that anyone from this world would understand. Too bad he was not from it. He just continued to look at her and cocked his head at her in question.

“He used his staff and did what he normally does; create chaos. The sky’s on fire, the ground is frozen and soon it will start meeting and destroy everything that the combined forces touch.”

““WHAT?!”” Everyone seemed to whip their head around at that, even Peter

“Really, Web-head? Are you even listening to the coms? Loki’s been bragging about his plan for the last five minutes.”

“Sorry, there’s just so much going on it’s even hard to get backup transport.”

Damian turned to look at the sky, at the inferno, before asking: “How is he being stopped?”

Not hearing an answer, he turned back to the two heroes. “-tt- There is a plan, right?”

“Yes.” Ava said in an unsure voice, leaving Damian waiting for a ‘but’.

“But we might not make it in time. Dr. Strange is being upheld and can’t get to the stone that opens pathways between dimensions.”

“Why do you need that?” the youngest wondered.

Ava put a hand on his right shoulder and guided him to the medics that were getting the agent into a black vehicle. “Loki’s put on some spell that make himself into some kind of homing beacon to the staff. Whenever he calls, an all-powerful staff just teleports to him in a second. You might recognize the problem with putting that in the hands of an egotistical maniac. Even if we knocked him out now and put him in prison, he would only start it all over again once he woke up.”

Damian nodded. “So, separating them in two different dimensions should be out of reach?”

Peter let out a sigh. “Yeah. If we make it. We’ll have to go and help. Get in and they’ll drive you to a hospital.” He said as he held open the rear door. Boudica landing on the roof of the car as she saw Damian nearing it.

The young boy, the young robin, contemplated before taking a step to the side. He raised his hand and grabbed the amulet that still hung from his neck. He looked at it, the pattern too alike a spider for it to have been a coincidence.

He looked up at Peter. Emerald green eyes meeting white lenses. And he felt a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Or I could race you there.”

 

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