Chapter Text
Unsurprisingly, there"s some disappointment when people begin to arrive at the hospital and learn that Jay is once again asleep, but thankfully it passes fairly quickly. Everyone is just excited that he woke up at all, even if none of them are willing to say it out loud, and that general good mood is maintained throughout the afternoon as other people trickle in. Bruce and Alfred are of course the first to arrive, and Alfred makes the executive decision to warn Dick off, who"s apparently already taken far, far too much time off work. Barbara arrives not long after, accompanied by Tim who turns out to have yet another follow up appointment to get out of the way.
To Khalid"s surprise, his father arrives maybe an hour later, finding his way up to the room easily and being let in without protest. They"ve all visited enough to be on a first name basis with the regular nurses, but none more than his father, who"s made a point of learning the names of everyone who works in the ward.
His father"s always been good at things like that.
"Khalid," he calls, and Khalid spares a glance at the room—Bruce, Alfred, and Barbara all present—before deciding that stepping outside isn"t going to do any harm. It"s the only way they"ll get even a shred of privacy, and with a noisy, friendly atmosphere, he doesn"t think Jay would be at any significant risk of getting confused when waking anyway.
And he can"t just live in the hospital room. He has things that still need to get done, people he needs to meet. He"ll do everything he can to support Jay, but that can"t mean throwing away everything.
He pulls his father into a hug, which his father returns, and they tuck themselves off to the side of the hall, out of the way. It"s a less busy part of the wing, no doubt by design, but even still Khalid wishes they had a bit more space, a bit more privacy.
He"s asking too much, and he knows it.
"How are things?"
"Busy. Mister Wayne said to contact him if anyone came by the house to ask questions, and I believed that he was worrying for nothing... apparently he was right, as we have had many people coming by the house. Some are old friends, who are worried about you and want to be sure you are alright, but others are strangers... possibly asking for the news."
His father frowns, and Khalid frowns as well. He"s been dutifully ignoring the many, many calls he"s been getting, setting aside all the texts and emails and voicemails for later, when he"s got more capacity for them. But as far as he knows, his number is still private, since he hasn"t been contacted by anyone he didn"t already know... or at least not anyone he noticed.
His parents address—which is his address, in most directories—on the other hand is public information, and he can"t imagine sharing his father"s optimism about the respect that society at large would have for their privacy.
"You should tell them you aren"t talking to the press," he says quickly, and his father laughs.
"You sound like Mister Wayne; he said for us to say the same thing. Your mother was only bothered at work once, so we have been lucky."
Khalid doesn"t feel lucky. He hates that his parents are getting drawn up into things, even if he realizes it was almost inevitable.
"Your mother asked for me to speak with you first about something," his father adds after a moment, and Khalid braces himself. Stupid, really, and he recognizes it as such. It doesn"t do him any good to get all tense every time someone wants to talk with him.
"About what?"
"The man who owns the building you live in was kind enough to let us know your lease would be finished by month"s end. Your things will need to be moved."
Khalid can already imagine the logistics of it all. He needs to get everything packed, he needs to find a place to move it all, he"s going to need to find a new apartment—
His father"s apparently far too used to reading Khalid, because he reaches out, resting a comforting hand on Khalid"s shoulder.
"You should not worry. You have more than enough on your mind without adding this as well; your mother and I will handle it. Mister Wayne has already offered to store your things, and says that you will be living at the manor for the future. He has been very generous; your mother and I had to turn down his offer of help for a moving service."
His father shakes his head, as if the idea of Khalid living with Bruce is perfectly fine, but the idea of him paying for a moving service is downright scandalous.
"Harun has a large truck he can lend us, and we have had many friends offer to help. I had planned to pack your things up before worrying you about it, but your mother insisted that I speak to you first, in case there is anything in your room you do not wish for us to see..."
His father"s glance is equal parts pointed and mortifying, and Khalid"s face burns at the insinuation.
"No," he blurts quickly. "No, there— I mean, there isn"t going to be anything. The only things I wouldn"t want you to see are whatever letters the school has sent, only you already know the worst of them, so feel free to just... dig through that." His mom has a good head on her shoulders for things like that, and Khalid"s happy that he"s not going to have to be the one sorting through the stack of mail that"s surely waiting for him.
"Nothing? Nothing at all?"
Khalid has to wonder what his father—his devout, religious father—thinks he"s going to find. A sex dungeon? A mountain of illegal drugs?
"Nothing," he insists, and then hesitates, realizing. "Almost nothing. My voicemail probably has a lot on it now, but can you pull the tape and..." More hesitation, where should it even go? "Give it to Jim Gordon?"
"The chief of police?" His father seems baffled by the very idea.
"The Joker left a message on my answering machine that morning. I never listened to it, but it"s probably still there. It"s... probably pretty good evidence for him. It"s one of the only really tangible things to prove my whole story."
Thankfully, his father understands immediately. Jim"s never been anything but understanding, but that doesn"t mean he"s going to be the only one to ever handle the case. If they"ve got a solid physical piece of evidence just sitting around, there"s no reason not to turn it over to him.
And even more thankfully, his father has a good head on his shoulders.
"If you believe it will be good evidence, best to keep it secure. I will speak to him before we go over. Since no one has been there, if a police officer collects the machine, then there will be no possible question about it."
"That"s... a good idea, yeah. It isn"t high priority, but just any officer could go grab it, and then it wouldn"t be an issue." Hopefully nothing else is on the answering machine that might be more personal, but he"s going to just have to deal with that.
"If you have no objections, we will move your things this weekend. That way you can have everything you need when it is time for your friend to go home."
His friend. Putting a word to it feels so complicated, and in a way that Khalid doesn"t want to think about. Why hasn"t English come up with a word for "Guy whose tormenter also tormented me, and now he"s the only person in the world who"s ever really going to get it"?
Khalid needs that word right then.
---
Doctor Thompkins shows up close to two hours later, looking relatively well rested and amusingly unaffected by Bruce"s enthusiasm. If Khalid didn"t already know that Jay had been awake for a while, he suspects he might have guessed just from the way that Thompkins—who spent the first forty-eight hours hovering over Jay watching for any hint of trouble—is so nonchalant.
She treats him with a level of indifference, right up until he tips his hand during a brief moment they"re alone. He doesn"t say I know he"s been faking, but he implies it, and that"s enough to get her to relax.
Her declaring that Jay is in "better health than we could have hoped" seems to do a lot to quiet Bruce"s anxiety, but Khalid could have done without her twice-daily reminder that Jay would be "much worse if not for mister Nassour"s previous work". It just leaves Bruce hovering again, acting more like a doting mother than Khalid"s own mother on a good day.
Khalid"s almost, almost happy when Jim Gordon arrives asking for him, but it"s only almost. Jim"s expression is too grim and serious for Khalid to think, even for a moment, that he"s not going to hate the conversation to come.
"Could I have a minute, Khalid?" He calls, and Khalid"s already going, heading out into the hall. He doesn"t miss that Gordon"s got his uniform on under his coat, meaning it"s without question work related, although he"s probably not there in any official capacity.
Khalid says nothing once they"ve stepped outside, just stares up at Gordon and waits. For once, he doesn"t let his anxiety eat him alive—he has a strong guess as to why they"re there, after so long, with Gordon looking so sour.
"Someone told me you were a friend of Doctor Robles?"
Khalid can"t decide if it"s a slip or not. It"s technically new information, but in no way is it surprising to him. He"s been expecting the news since the second or third day afterwards, because he can"t imagine any reason why Matt would be missing day of, and then not follow up when they"d first expressed worries about his whereabouts. It wasn"t like him, and the longer it had been since he"d been seen, the more certain Khalid had been of his fate.
"Friends from work, but... yeah," Khalid says. Matt had only just graduated, putting them closer in age than most. They"d been contemporaries, of a sort, and more than that Khalid had liked Matt.
He"d been a good man.
"I"m sorry to tell you that we found his body yesterday. We"d have told people sooner, but we had to confirm his identity and notify next of kin."
Last of Kin in Matt"s case, Khalid knows. His mother"s the only family he"s got, and he wonders if it would be inappropriate to look her up and send flowers. Maybe even visit. He doubts she"d even know who he was, but he also doubts that she would have known many—or any—of Matt"s friends. He"d never talked about anyone, and any time work was over, he was always just heading home.
It was one of the many things they"d had in common, and Matt had never judged him for his focus on his studies.
He"d been there all too recently, after all.
"I assume he never left Arkham?" Khalid guesses, and Gordon nods.
"He was the primary doctor on duty when everything happened, and we think he was with the Joker when word came that Batman had arrived. Joker killed him—snapped his neck, so he"d have gone quickly—and shoved his body into hiding spot. He didn"t suffer at all, and there"s no question that the Joker did it in a rush. Space he was in was small, and had two other bodies in it already... bodies that the Joker had put a lot of time and effort into hiding."
Khalid tries to find solace in the fact that Matt"s murder helped solve two others, but there"s no justice to be found there, not really.
"Anyone I would know?"
"We"re not releasing their identities yet," Gordon says, but it"s obvious to Khalid that he"s not done, so he keeps his mouth shut. "I don"t think you would, just from how long they"ve been there, though. Jason, though, might know, and I"ll have to talk to him about them... sometime."
"Jay?" Khalid"s having a hard time making a connection there. How could Jay be involved?
"One of them shouldn"t have any connection, but one of them is also a doctor. He"s been missing since right around one year after Jason was taken."
Khalid doesn"t get it, not right away, but Gordon clearly expects him to get it, staring pointedly as if waiting for the shoe to drop.
It doesn"t, and Gordon eventually realizes that, clearing his throat awkwardly.
"A year after he was taken, Bruce was sent a tape by the Joker that included Jason being shot... apparently to death. It"s why we no longer considered him missing. Based on the body and how long it"s been there, I think— we think— that the Joker brought him in to deal with the bullet wound at the time."
Oh. Khalid slots the idea into his mental timeline of Jay"s life and comes away feeling satisfied. Yes, that makes sense. He"d known that Jay would have had to have had some sort of medical attention. He couldn"t have survived it otherwise.
"Does that... fit?" Gordon ventures, and at last Khalid understands why Gordon"s telling him at all: the police don"t know why the Doctor died, but of all the people in the world, only a handful could even guess if Gordon"s theory is correct.
And Khalid is a whole hell of a lot less busy than Doctor Thompkins.
"Yes," Khalid confirms, silently noting the way Gordon seems to relax when he says it. "He had a healed bullet wound, and there were signs surgery had been done at the site. He must have had some kind of medical care at the time, which is consistent. He also didn"t have any other scars that I"d describe as consistent with receiving medical care."
Or at least not any that Khalid himself wasn"t directly responsible for. Of all the things he"d done to help, advocating for Jay getting medical care before things became impossible to reverse was one of the best. Better to clean an injury and give him stitches than to wait for the infection to eat through him, and it feels like a point of pride that Jay"s got more stitch-scars on him from his time with Khalid than all of his past time with Joker combined.
"Well, have to admit that"s a relief," Gordon says. He looks like it"s a relief, like Khalid"s taken an actual, literal weight off his shoulders. "Trying to piece this whole thing together while avoiding the bits I"m not supposed to acknowledge has been a... chore."
Khalid suspects that"s the politest possible way he could put it, because just wrapping his head around what he needs to keep straight has been hard enough. There"s a million and one little details that he just hasn"t had to think about due to being so isolated from the wider world. He knows there are things he"s going to have to pay attention to... he just lacks the willingness to actually do so.
He"s being sheltered, hiding away in a bubble, and even if mentally he knows he"ll have to leave it before long...
He still wants to put it off as long as possible. Every second he can keep to himself is precious, and he knows that once he"s out, there"s no going back.