Becoming Nightshade

Constantine leaned against the desk in Maggie's dorm room, his cigarette smoldering in the ashtray he'd commandeered. Papers, talismans, and strange were strewn across the surface as Jason sat nearby, his phone in hand, scrolling through contacts Constantine had dictated.

"Right, now call that warlock in Edinburgh," Constantine instructed.

"He owes me for that little exorcism job. If he tries to weasel out, remind him I still have the incriminating photos."

Jason grimaced, dialing the number. "You're a piece of work, Constantine."

Constantine smirked. "Takes one to know one, birdie. Now keep dialing."

As Jason made the call, Constantine flipped through a battered leather notebook, muttering to himself. Occasionally, he scribbled notes on a piece of parchment that looked older than Gotham itself. Maggie stirred weakly in bed, her voice faint.

"You're going through a lot of trouble for someone you've only meet once."

Constantine glanced at her, his expression softening for a moment.

"You're not just anyone, love. Whether you know it or not, there's something about you—an energy, a power—that someone like Vincent would find very appealing."

Maggie frowned, trying to prop herself up. "What do you mean?"

Constantine let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Vincent doesn't bite just anyone. The aura around you—bright, untapped, and screaming with potential—must've been like catnip to him. He sees something in you, something even you don't understand yet. And trust me, that makes you a target."

Jason hung up the phone, glaring at Constantine.

"You're saying she's some kind of magnet for creeps like Vincent?"

"Not just creeps, mate," Constantine said seriously.

"The supernatural world is drawn to power. They'll use it, twist it, try to own it. If Vincent's got his eye on Maggie, it's not just a casual snack. He wants her for something bigger."

Maggie's voice wavered as she spoke. "But… I don't have powers."

Constantine crouched beside her bed, meeting her eyes.

"Not yet maybe. But power like yours, even if it's dormant, leaves a mark. The kind of mark that someone like Vincent can see a mile away."

Jason crossed his arms. "So, what do we do? Just wait for Vincent to show up again?"

Constantine pulled out a battered silver pocket watch, flicking it open with a practiced motion. He studied the hands for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he snapped it shut with a loud *click* and slipped it back into his coat pocket.

"With the time she's got left before the transformation takes hold?" he said casually, lighting another cigarette. "We just might."

Jason's eyes widened, and he stepped forward, his tone sharp.

"Are you serious? You're telling me we're on a ticking clock, and your plan is to do nothing?"

Constantine blew out a puff of smoke, his gaze steady but weary.

"Calm down, mate. I didn't say we'd do *nothing.* I said we might wait—for the right moment. Timing's everything with this sort of thing. Jump too soon, and you risk making things worse."

Jason glared at him. "Worse than letting her turn into—A vampire?"

Constantine sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Listen, I'm not thrilled about this either, but the process of transformation isn't instant. It's slow, and it leaves traces—breadcrumbs we can use. If we act too early, we might lose our only chance to track Vincent down and stop this from being a permanent transformation."

Jason anger giving way to frustration. "And what happens to Maggie in the meantime? She just… suffers?"

Constantine glanced at Maggie, who was watching the exchange with a mix of fear and exhaustion. His voice softened.

"I know it's not fair, love. But trust me, I've seen worse, and I've pulled people back. You're not gone yet."

"This is insane," Jason said, his voice sharp as he stopped mid-step to glare at Constantine.

"You're seriously suggesting we let her *turn*? You're gambling with her life."

Constantine exhaled a plume of smoke, his expression annoyingly calm.

"Just let the process play out enough to lure Vincent in. He's clearly invested in her, and the closer she gets to transformation, the more likely he is to make his move."

"And you expect her to just sit there and 'play along' while this happens?" Jason snapped, gesturing toward Maggie.

"What if she loses control? What if she drinks blood and its game over?"

Maggie spoke up, her voice hoarse but steady.

"I won't."

Jason turned to her, his frustration softening into concern.

"Mags, this is instinct. Hunger. You can't just willpower your way through it."

"She doesn't have to," Constantine interjected.

"There are ways to suppress the thirst temporarily—spells, charms, even a few alchemical tricks. It won't be pleasant, but it'll give her a fighting chance."

"And what if those fail? What if she snaps and Vincent gets exactly what he wants?"

Constantine stood, flicking ash into the tray.

"That's the risk we take. You wanted a way to stop him, and this is it. The alternative is hunting him down blind, without any leverage—and I can promise you that doesn't end well for any of us."

Jason shook his head, his voice low and angry.

"This isn't leverage. This is a death sentence."

Maggie looked at him, her gaze unwavering despite her exhaustion.

"Jason, it's my choice. We go with John plan."

Jason's expression softened, his shoulders slumping.

"There has to be another way."

"There isn't," Constantine said bluntly, his tone cutting through the tension.

"This is the only plan that gives us a shot at stopping Vincent for good. The question is whether you're in, or if you're going to keep stomping around like a sulky teenager."

Jason glared at him but didn't respond. Instead, he turned back to Maggie, his voice quieter but firm.

"If you're doing this, then I'm staying with you every step of the way."

Maggie managed a small, tired smile.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Jason nodded, though his unease didn't fade. The plan was reckless, dangerous, and far from perfect.

The room was heavy with tension as Constantine set up the spell. Candles flickered on every surface, casting eerie shadows across the walls. The air smelled faintly of herbs and smoke, the spell work filling the room with an electric hum. Constantine moved with precision, muttering incantations under his breath. Jason sat in the bed with Maggie, holding her in his arms. She was trembling, her breathing shallow, and her skin felt clammy against him. He tightened his grip, his voice soft but firm.

"I've got you, Mags. I'm not letting go."

Constantine approached, handing Jason a small charm—a simple, round amulet carved with protective runes.

"Keep this close. It'll protect you. And don't drop it, or we'll all have a much worse night."

Jason nodded, slipping the charm into his pocket before turning his attention back to Maggie. Her eyes were half-closed, her exhaustion and the pull of the transformation evident. He rested his chin lightly on her head. Constantine began chanting, his voice rising and falling in a strange, melodic rhythm. The candles flared brighter, the shadows shifting unnaturally. Maggie flinched, her body tensing as the spell took hold. Jason, desperate to distract her, leaned down and whispered,

"So… did you read it?"

Maggie stirred slightly, her voice weak.

"Read what?"

"My note," Jason said, his tone light but probing.

"The one I gave you at the airport. You haven't mentioned it."

Despite her state, Maggie managed a faint smile.

"I read it."

"And?" Jason asked, his heart racing.

"No comments? Critiques? It's not every day I pour my heart out on paper, you know."

She let out a weak chuckle, leaning into him as her voice softened.

"It was perfect, Jason..."

The candles suddenly flickered wildly, Constantine's chant reaching a crescendo. Maggie tensed again, a soft cry escaping her lips as the spell worked its way through her. Jason held her closer, whispering.

"You're okay. Just focus on me, Mags."

Constantine's voice rang out one final time, and the room went still. The candles dimmed, their flames returning to normal, and the oppressive energy that had filled the air slowly dissipated. Jason's heart sank as he looked down at Maggie. Her body had gone limp in his arms, her chest no longer rising and falling.

"Mags?" he whispered, his voice trembling. "Maggie, come on. Wake up."

She didn't respond.

"No, no, no," Jason muttered, panic overtaking him. He shook her gently, his voice rising.

"Maggie, wake up! Don't do this to me!"

Constantine stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Jason's shoulder.

"Easy, kid. It's part of the plan."

Jason jerked away from him, his eyes blazing with anger.

"What the hell do you mean, part of the plan? She's not breathing!"

"She's not dead," Constantine said calmly, pulling Jason away from Maggie's limp body.

"Not yet, anyway. This is just the transition—a bloody unpleasant one, I'll admit—but she'll wake up."

Jason struggled against Constantine's grip, his voice breaking.

"And what if she doesn't? What if this doesn't work?"

Constantine gave him a sharp look, his voice low but steady.

"Then you'll have those."

He reached into his coat and handed Jason a small bundle: two wooden stakes and a vial of holy water.

"Just in case things don't go the way we want."

Jason stared at the items in his hands, his stomach twisting.

"You're kidding."

"Not even a little," Constantine said, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

"When she wakes up and loses control, you'll need to be ready."

Jason shook his head, dropping the stakes onto the desk with a clatter.

"I'm not using these on her."

"Then let's hope you won't have to," Constantine said, lighting a cigarette.

"But hope doesn't stop vampires, mate. Be prepared."

The room was silent except for the faint crackle of the candles. Then, suddenly, Maggie's body jerked, and her eyes flew open, glowing faintly in the dim light. She sat up abruptly as she looked around the room as if seeing the world for the first time. Jason reached out to steady her, relief washing over him.

"Maggie? You're back."

She looked at him, her eyes wide and filled with confusion.

"Jason, I… I feel…"

Her voice trailed off as she glanced down at her hands, her senses heightened. She could hear the faintest sounds—the creak of the floorboards, the rustle of Constantine's coat—and smell the lingering smoke from the candles. Everything felt sharper, clearer, and more intense. Her throat burned with an unfamiliar thirst that made her flinch.

"Different," she finished, her voice trembling. "I feel… different."

Constantine exhaled a puff of smoke, his eyes narrowing as he observed her.

"Welcome back to the land of the living—or close enough. Now the real fun begins."

Maggie sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers curling into the fabric of the blanket as an eerie voice echoed in her mind. It wasn't Jason or Constantine speaking—it was Vincent. His voice was smooth, persuasive, and dripping with false promises.

*Maggie,* he called, his tone like velvet. *You're so much more than you realize. Come to me. I can help you understand what you're becoming, what you're meant to be.*

Maggie's body tensed as the voice pulled at her, beckoning her to move. But as she focused on his words, something strange happened. Her mind seemed to reach out instinctively, piercing through the veil of Vincent's thoughts. Images and emotions flooded her senses—his smug satisfaction, his hunger, his carefully laid plan. She saw it all: Vincent's true intention wasn't to turn her into a loyal companion or even to guide her. He wanted her blood—vampiric blood brimming with untapped power. He craved her essence, the unique energy that swirled within her, so he could take it for himself. Draining her would give him control over her burgeoning abilities, specifically the one that had begun to stir within her: the power of shadows. Maggie blinked, her vision clearing as she returned to the present moment. She glanced around the room, the flickering candlelight casting long, twisting shadows along the walls. Slowly, she raised her hand, her fingers trembling slightly as she focused on one of the darker corners. To her surprise, the shadow seemed to respond. It stretched unnaturally, curling and shifting like a living thing. A flicker of excitement sparked within her. Jason noticed the movement.

"Mags, what are you doing?"

"I… I think I can control them," she said softly, her voice filled with wonder and trepidation.

"The shadows—they're part of me now."

Constantine, who had been observing quietly, arched an eyebrow.

"Well, well. Looks like someone's discovering their new party tricks."

Maggie focus on the tendrils of darkness coiling around her fingertips. As she concentrated, the shadows thickened, swirling like smoke. For a moment, she felt a strange sense of control and power—an extension of herself she'd never known. Maggie stood in the center of the room, shadows flickering faintly around her as she turned to Constantine, her arms crossed.

"So," she said, her voice edged with sarcasm,

"what's the plan here? Do I just show up first, and then you guys come in and *Buffy the Vampire Slayer* the guy out of existence? Which will make me normal again? Am I remembering this right?"

Constantine leaned back in his chair, smirking as he took a drag from his cigarette.

"I like the enthusiasm."

Jason shot Constantine a glare.

"Can you be serious for once?"

Constantine gave a nonchalant shrug.

"Stake through the heart, sunlight, holy water—it's all very dramatic, but effective. Problem is, Vincent's not your run-of-the-mill vampire. He's old, strong. It won't be easy."

Maggie rolled her eyes.

"Great. So, I'm just supposed to waltz into his trap and hope you guys show up in time?"

Constantine smirked.

"Yes, and I'm bringing a few extra surprises." He patted his coat pocket, where various charms and talismans rattled faintly.

"And if this all works, what happens to me? Do I magically go back to normal?"

Constantine's expression softened slightly, the smirk fading.

"That depends on how far the transformation's gone by then. Stopping Vincent will sever the vampire connection to you, but the rest… well, it'll be up to you."

Maggie frowned, her mind racing.

"So, there's no guarantee."

"No guarantees in this line of work, love," Constantine said, his tone serious.

"But one thing's certain—if we don't stop him, you'll lose whatever chance you've got."

Maggie exhaled slowly, her resolve hardening.

"Alright. Let's do this."

Jason stepped beside her, his voice steady.

"I've got your back, Mags. Whatever it takes."

Constantine grinned, flicking ash from his cigarette.

"Good."

Maggie's footsteps echoed faintly against the cobblestone path as she approached the old London home. The house loomed before her, its darkened windows and crumbling façade exuding an unsettling sense of foreboding. She hesitated at the iron gate, glancing over her shoulder. There was no sign of Constantine or Jason, but she knew they were close, hidden in the shadows, ready. The thought gave her a sliver of reassurance. She pushed open the gate, the creak of rusted hinges sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet night. The faint glow of a single candle flickered through the house's front window, guiding her toward the heavy wooden door. Just as she reached the threshold, a familiar voice echoed from within, smooth and melodic.

"Come in, Maggie."

She froze, her hand hovering over the doorknob. The words weren't shouted or spoken loudly—they resonated in her mind, as though Vincent were standing right beside her. The pull in his voice was magnetic, urging her to obey. Her fingers trembled, but she forced herself to focus. *Stay in control.* After a moment, she steadied herself and reached for the knob, twisting it slowly. The door opened with a soft groan, revealing a dimly lit foyer. Shadows danced along the peeling wallpaper, and the faint scent of old wood and something metallic hung in the air.

"Welcome, my dear," Vincent's voice greeted her, warm and inviting, as though she were a guest at a lavish party.

Maggie stepped inside, She could feel him before she saw him, his presence filling the room like a chilling breeze. Her senses were sharper now, and she could hear the faint rustle of fabric, the soft creak of floorboards. Vincent stepping out of the shadows at the far end of the hall. His appearance was as immaculate as ever, his dark suit perfectly tailored, his pale skin glowing faintly in the candlelight.

"You're full of surprises."

"You wanted me here."

Vincent smiled, a slow, predatory curve of his lips.

"Indeed. But there's still so much you don't understand, my dear."

Maggie felt a faint stir in her mind, like the beginnings of a storm. She kept her expression neutral, masking the defiance burning beneath the surface. *Let him think he's in control,* she told herself. *He doesn't know what I can do.* As Vincent stepped closer, she caught a glimpse of the faint movement outside the window—Jason and Constantine were in position. Vincent stopped just inches away, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. Slowly, he raised a hand and ran his finger along her cheek, his touch cold and light as a feather.

"What a beautiful vampire you make," he murmured, his voice low and honeyed.

His eyes seemed to glitter with satisfaction, as though he were admiring a masterpiece of his own creation. She could feel his attempt to pull her in—not just physically, but mentally. His presence was intoxicating, his words weaving a web of false promises around her. But Maggie focused on the shadows flickering at the edges of the room, grounding herself in the power she had discovered within.

Vincent's hand moved to her shoulder, his grip firm but not harsh, as he leaned in slightly.

"I can see it now," he said softly, his lips curling into a smile. "Unstoppable. Together, we could rewrite the rules of this world."

Maggie felt his other hand slide toward her waist, attempting to pull her closer. Her mind screamed at her to act, but she forced herself to wait for the right moment.

"What's the matter, my dear?" Vincent asked, his smile never faltering.

"You don't seem convinced. Surely, you can feel it—the power coursing through you. The hunger that binds us."

Maggie tilted her head slightly, meeting his gaze with a calm she didn't feel.

"You're right," she said softly, her voice steady. "I do feel it.

For a moment, Vincent's expression brightened with satisfaction, but it was short-lived. Maggie's hands twitched subtly at her sides, and the shadows in the room began to ripple, like water disturbed by an unseen force. Before Vincent could react, the darkness coalesced into tendrils and surged forward, slamming into his chest with a force that sent him staggering backward. The confident smirk vanished from Vincent's face, replaced with surprise and anger as he regained his footing.

"Impressive," he growled, his voice cold and sharp. "You've barely begun to understand your power, and yet you dare use it against me?"

"Watch me," Maggie snapped, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

The shadows around her swirled protectively, giving her a menacing aura and right on cue, the front door burst open with a loud crash, and Jason and Constantine stormed into the room. Jason moved like a blur, a stake in one hand and a vial of holy water in the other. Constantine followed, his coat flaring as he chanted under his breath, the air around him crackling with magical energy.

"Party's over, fang-face," Jason snarled, hurling the vial of holy water at Vincent.

The glass shattered against the vampire's shoulder, and he hissed in pain as the liquid sizzled against his skin. Vincent's eyes narrowed, his voice venomous.

"You dare interfere?"

"Interfering's my specialty," Constantine quipped, tossing a talisman onto the ground.

It exploded in a burst of light, the runes glowing fiercely as they began to create a barrier around the room. Vincent turned his attention back to Maggie, his tone dripping with disdain.

"You think you can stand against me? You're nothing more than a child playing with powers you don't understand."

"Maybe."

The shadows surged again, intertwining with Constantine's magical barrier as Jason lunged forward, driving Vincent further back. Vincent bared his fangs, his strength and speed making him a formidable opponent, but the trio's coordination began to overwhelm him. Vincent, battered but unrelenting, suddenly turned his focus to Jason. With blinding speed, he closed the distance between them, his hand slipping into Jason's pocket. Jason's eyes widened as Vincent pulled out the protective talisman Constantine had given him.

"No!" Jason shouted, lunging to stop him, but Vincent smirked and crushed the talisman in his hand. The shards fell to the floor, the magical energy dissipating in a faint shimmer.

Instantly, the room shifted. The protective barrier Constantine had erected flickered and vanished, and the oppressive energy Vincent carried surged forward like a tidal wave. Maggie staggered, her connection to the shadows faltering as a dark hunger clawed its way to the surface.

"Maggie!" Jason called.

But Maggie could barely hear him over the pounding in her head. The thirst—the unbearable, gnawing thirst—consumed her every thought. Her gaze locked onto Jason, and for a moment, all she could see was the steady pulse in his neck, the promise of relief in his blood. She clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms to ground herself, but it wasn't enough. Her fangs ached, and her breath came in ragged gasps as the desire to feed overwhelmed her. She took a shaky step toward Jason, her voice trembling.

"I—I can't…"

"Mags, listen to me! You're stronger than this. Don't let him win."

Vincent's laughter echoed through the room.

"Ah, the irony. You came here to stop me, and now she's about to tear into you instead. Poetic, isn't it?"

The thirst, the unbearable hunger, surged uncontrollably. She could no longer hear Jason's words or Constantine's incantations—all she could focus on was the steady beat of Jason's heart and the scent of his blood.

"Maggie, stay with me!" Jason shouted, but it was too late.

With a guttural growl, Maggie lunged forward, her fangs bared, her eyes wild with desperation. Jason reacted just in time, stepping to the side as she hurtled past him, her claws swiping at empty air. She landed heavily but immediately turned; her gaze locked onto him like a predator stalking its prey.

"Maggie, stop!" Jason yelled, backing away, but she didn't respond. She was too far gone.

Constantine's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding.

"Bloody hell, kid, get out of the way!"

Jason dove to the side as Constantine raised his hands, chanting rapidly in a language thick with power. A burst of golden light erupted between Maggie and Jason, forming an invisible barrier that froze Maggie mid-lunge. She snarled, clawing at the unseen force holding her back, her fangs glinting in the dim light.

"Hold her!" Jason shouted, scrambling to his feet.

"Working on it!" Constantine snapped, sweat beading on his forehead as he maintained the spell.

"She's bloody strong!"

Maggie thrashed against the magical hold, her screams a mix of rage and anguish. Her eyes darted between Jason and Vincent, the thirst driving her mad. Vincent chuckled darkly from the corner, clearly amused by the chaos.

"Such delicious irony. She's already mine, and you're just delaying the inevitable."

Jason glared at him. "Shut up!"

Constantine gritted his teeth, his voice strained.

"We need to end this now!"

Jason clenched his fists around the stake in his hand, set with determination. He spared one last glance at Maggie, still held back by Constantine's spell, her anguished cries fueling his rage. He turned his glare to Vincent, the vampire's smirk only deepening his resolve.

"You think this is a game?" Jason growled. "Let's see how you like it when the odds aren't in your favor."

Before Vincent could respond, Jason lunged forward with a burst of speed. The stake in his hand aimed directly for Vincent's chest, but the vampire sidestepped effortlessly, his movements fluid and almost lazy.

"Ah, the fledgling warrior," Vincent mocked, catching Jason's wrist mid-swing.

"Such passion, but so little refinement."

Jason twisted free, spinning on his heel to deliver a roundhouse kick that caught Vincent square in the jaw. The vampire staggered slightly, his smirk faltering for a brief moment. Jason didn't let up, driving forward with a flurry of attacks—punches, kicks, and thrusts of the stake. He moved with the precision of someone who had spent years honing his skills, every strike aimed to weaken or distract his opponent. Vincent growled as Jason's movements forced him to backpedal.

"Impressive," Vincent admitted, blocking a particularly vicious strike. "You're more skilled than I gave you credit for."

Jason didn't answer, his focus razor-sharp as he pressed the attack. He feinted left, then pivoted, slashing the stake across Vincent's side. The sharp tip tore through his suit, drawing a thin line of blood. Vincent hissed in pain, his crimson eyes flashing with anger.

"Not so untouchable now, are you?" Jason spat, circling Vincent like a predator.

Vincent's composure cracked, his elegant demeanor giving way to fury. With a snarl, he lunged at Jason, his speed almost too fast to track. Jason barely managed to dodge, the vampire's claws grazing his shoulder and ripping through his jacket. Ignoring the pain, Jason countered with an upward strike, driving the stake toward Vincent's heart. Vincent caught the stake inches from his chest, his grip like iron.

"Clever boy," he sneered, forcing Jason back with a burst of strength. "But you're still outmatched."

Jason stumbled but quickly regained his footing, his eyes blazing with defiance.

"I don't quit."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Constantine reinforcing the spell holding Maggie back, his face lined with strain. Jason charged forward with a final burst of energy, his stake poised for the strike. Vincent moved faster, sidestepping the attack and catching Jason by the throat with an iron grip. Jason gasped, his feet dangling off the ground as Vincent lifted him effortlessly.

"You've fought well, boy," Vincent said, his tone almost mocking.

"But this is where it ends."

Jason struggled against the vampire's hold, his vision blurring as the pressure on his neck increased. He gritted his teeth, his right hand still clutching the stake. Vincent smirked, his crimson eyes glowing with triumph.

"Such spirit," Vincent sneered.

"But no match for power."

Jason's lips curled into a faint smirk of his own, even as he gasped for air.

"You talk too much."

In a swift, practiced motion, Jason let the stake slip from his right hand. It fell only a few inches before he caught it with his left, the movement too quick for Vincent to notice. Using the last of his strength, Jason leaned forward, driving the stake directly into Vincent's chest. Vincent's eyes widened in shock, his grip loosening as he staggered back.

"No… impossible…"

The vampire's body began to tremble, a faint light emanating from the wound. Jason dropped to the ground, coughing and clutching his throat as he watched Vincent's form disintegrate. The vampire let out one final scream of rage before his body collapsed into a pile of dust, scattering across the floor. Jason sat back, catching his breath as the room fell silent. Constantine released the spell holding Maggie. The golden light flickered and faded, and the shadows that had swirled around her disappeared. She crumpled to the ground, her body limp and unmoving.

"Maggie!" Jason scrambled to her side, his earlier exhaustion forgotten as he knelt beside her.

He gently turned her over, his hands trembling as he searched for any sign of life. Her skin was deathly pale, her chest still, and her eyes closed.

"No, no, no," Jason muttered, shaking her lightly.

"Maggie, come on. Wake up."

Constantine crouched beside them; his expression grim but composed.

"Easy, kid. Give her a moment."

Jason glared at him, his voice rising. "A moment? She's not breathing! She—she—"

His words caught in his throat as panic overtook him. Constantine placed a hand on Jason's shoulder, his tone calm but firm.

"She's in transition. Her body's been through hell—"

Jason shook his head, his hands tightening around Maggie.

"You said she'd be okay!"

"I said stopping Vincent would sever his control over her," Constantine corrected, his voice steady but tinged with regret.

"Whether she comes back fully herself… that's up to her now."

Jason stared at him, disbelief and frustration etched into his face.

"What are we supposed to do, just wait?"

Constantine leaned back, lighting a cigarette as if to distract himself.

"That's all we can do, mate. It's her fight now."

Jason's hands curled into fists, his anger barely held in check as he turned his focus back to Maggie. Her stillness was unbearable, each second feeling like an eternity. He leaned down, his voice soft and trembling.

"Mags, if you can hear me, please come back. You've fought this far—don't stop now."

The room fell silent, the faint glow of the extinguished spell lingering in the air. Jason stayed by her side, refusing to let go, as Constantine watched from a distance, his expression unreadable. And then—just as hope began to waver—Maggie's chest rose with a shallow breath. Her fingers twitched, her eyes fluttering open. She gasped softly, her voice hoarse and weak.

"Jason?"

Relief flooded Jason's face, and he let out a shaky laugh.

"Mags, you scared the hell out of me."

Constantine exhaled a plume of smoke, his smirk returning.

"Told you she'd pull through. Girl's tougher than she looks."

Maggie blinked, her gaze shifting between them.

"What… what happened?"

Jason helped her sit up, his hands steadying her.

"We stopped him. Vincent's gone."

Maggie closed her eyes for a moment, letting the words sink in.

"I feel… different," she murmured, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Constantine stepped closer, his tone light but measured.

"You've been through the ringer, love. Give it time. You'll figure out what 'different' means soon enough."

Jason and Constantine supported Maggie as they walked back to her dorm room. Her steps were unsteady, but she was determined not to appear too weak. Jason's arm stayed firmly around her waist, offering silent support, while Constantine trailed behind, muttering about how much effort this job had taken. When they reached her room, Jason gently lowered her onto the bed, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"You good?" he asked softly, his concern clear.

Maggie nodded, her lips curving into a faint smile.

"I'm alive, thanks to you."

Jason started to shake his head, dismissing the praise, but Maggie reached out and caught his hand.

"No, Jason, really. You saved me."

Before he could reply, she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his in a soft, lingering kiss. Jason froze for a second before relaxing, his hand moving to her cheek to deepen the moment. When they pulled apart, her smile was brighter, despite her exhaustion. Constantine, standing in the doorway, cleared his throat loudly.

"Ah, young love. Nothing like a brush with death to spark a bit of passion."

Jason glared at him, his ears turning red.

"Seriously, Constantine?"

Constantine smirked, taking a step into the room closing the door behind.

"Oh, don't mind me, lovebirds. Just here to do my job."

Maggie glanced at him, frowning slightly.

"What do you mean?"

Constantine's expression shifted, his usual cocky demeanor replaced with a rare seriousness.

"Sorry, love, but this part isn't up for debate."

Without further warning, Constantine raised his hand, a faint glow emanating from his fingertips as he began to chant. Maggie's eyes widened, realization dawning just as the spell took hold. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words never came. Jason stood abruptly.

"What the hell are you doing, Constantine?"

"Cleaning up the mess," Constantine replied, his voice calm but resolute.

"She can't remember any of this—Vincent, the club, the fight. It's for her own good."

Maggie's body relaxed, her eyes fluttering shut as the spell completed. The faint glow around Constantine's hand dissipated, and she slumped back against the bed, unconscious. Jason shoved Constantine's shoulder angrily.

"You didn't even warn her! Or me!"

Constantine turned to him, his expression unreadable.

"She's been through enough, mate. Let her have her life back, free of this madness. Trust me, it's better this way."

Jason clenched his fists, torn between his anger and the understanding that Constantine might be right. He looked back at Maggie, her face peaceful in sleep, and let out a frustrated sigh.

"You could've at least told me first."

Constantine shrugged, his usual smirk returning. "Where's the fun in that?"

He patted Jason's shoulder as he started removing any truce of them being there. "The job's done."

Jason sat beside Maggie, brushing a hand over hers.

"You better be right, Constantine," he muttered, his voice low.

As Maggie slept, unaware of the memories she had just lost. In a flash of light, Jason and Constantine materialized in the Batcave. Jason staggered slightly, still disoriented from the teleportation. Constantine, as usual, appeared perfectly composed, brushing some nonexistent dust off his coat.

"Really getting tired of that," Jason muttered, straightening himself.

"Consider it character building," Constantine quipped, already lighting a cigarette as he surveyed the cavernous space.

Bruce was waiting near the Bat computer, his posture rigid and his expression a careful mask of concern. He approached quickly, his eyes scanning Jason for injuries.

"How's Maggie?"

Jason sighed, rubbing his neck.

"She's safe. We handled it."

Bruce's gaze shifted to Constantine, his eyes narrowing.

"And her condition?"

Constantine stepped forward, exhaling a puff of smoke.

"Your little prodigy's fine, mate."

"Details," Bruce demanded, his tone sharp.

Jason hesitated, glancing at Constantine, who took the lead with his usual cavalier attitude.

"We dealt with Vincent. The lad turned him into dust—nicely done, by the way."

He tipped his head at Jason. "But there's a catch."

Bruce's frown deepened. "What catch?"

Constantine tapped the ash off his cigarette, his tone serious now.

"Maggie's got a bit more going on than your average teenager. That shadow power she was playing with. That's not from Vincent or the vampirism—it's hers. Natural. But the bite woke it up, gave her a taste of what she's capable of."

"She used it to help fight him. It was... intense."

Bruce's eyes flickered with unease.

"And?"

"And," Constantine continued, "She can't know how to use it—not yet anyway. She doesn't have the control, and with that kind of power, she'll light up like a beacon to every supernatural bastard and end of the world cultist within a hundred miles. So, I wiped her memory."

Bruce's expression darkened.

"You erased her memories without consulting me?"

Constantine raised a hand as if to calm him.

"Don't get your cape in a twist. It's for her own good. If she remembers how to tap into those shadows, she'll be a danger to herself and everyone around her. This way, she goes back to being a normal girl, blissfully unaware of the mess she narrowly avoided."

Jason folded his arms, his voice tense.

"You didn't even give her a choice."

Constantine turned to him, his gaze sharp.

"A choice? Let me tell you something, mate. That power isn't a toy. You think she'd want this? To live with that kind of target on her back?"

Jason clenched his fists, glaring at Constantine.

"She could've handled it."

Bruce placed a hand on Jason's shoulder, his tone quiet but firm.

"And if she couldn't?"

Jason said nothing, his frustration evident. Constantine sighed, softening his tone slightly.

"Look, kid, I get it. But this isn't about her being strong enough. It's about keeping her safe."

Bruce gave Constantine a measured look.

"And if that power surfaces again?"

Constantine smirked faintly, already turning to leave.

"Then you'll give me another ring, won't you? Now if you excuse me, I've got a vamp nest to clean out."

He mumbles a spell under his breath vanished in a burst of light, leaving Jason and Bruce in the heavy silence of the Batcave.

Jason blinked hard, the remnants of Constantine's spell fogging his thoughts like a dense cloud. His hand instinctively reached for the back of his neck, as though trying to shake loose an itch that wasn't there. Bruce, watching Jason closely, noted the momentary flicker of confusion that passed over the boy's face. His jaw tightened, though his voice remained steady.

"Are you all right?"

Jason hesitated. "Yeah... I think." He glanced around the Batcave, his gaze landing on the Robin suit displayed in its case.

"Wait, why are we here again? Wasn't I on patrol?"

Bruce's lips pressed into a thin line, his suspicion confirmed. Constantine had done it—a clean wipe, erasing all memory of Maggie's vampire encounter and the events surrounding it. Yet, something in Jason's expression made Bruce uneasy. He didn't know if Constantine's spell would hold indefinitely; Jason's bond with Maggie was strong, and his memories might resurface in unexpected ways.

"We wrapped up patrol early," Bruce said, his voice neutral, betraying none of his concern.

"Thought it'd be good for you to rest. You've been pushing yourself hard lately."

Jason frowned, his instincts telling him there was something more, but he couldn't pin it down. The harder he tried to focus, the more slippery the thoughts became, like sand slipping through his fingers. Finally, he shrugged, the tension in his shoulders easing.

"Yeah, guess you're right," he muttered, though his tone was far from convinced.

"I'll grab some shut-eye."

With that, he disappeared upstairs, leaving Bruce alone in the cavernous silence of the Batcave. Bruce turned back to the Bat computer, his fingers flying across the keys. Constantine's spell might have temporarily eased Jason's mind, but it had left Bruce with a bitter taste.

Maggie stirred as a soft knocking echoed from the door. She groaned, sitting up and rubbing her temples. Her body felt heavy, and she had the vague sensation of having overslept. The knock came again, this time followed by Charlotte's voice.

"Maggie? Are you awake? We just wanted to check on you."

Maggie blinked a few times, her surroundings coming into focus.

"Yeah," she called, her voice hoarse. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Yeah, I'm up. One second."

She shuffled to the door, unlocking it and opening it just enough to see Charlotte, Oliver, and Aditi standing there, their expressions a mix of concern and relief.

"You look better," Charlotte said with a smile. "Are you feeling, okay?"

Maggie nodded, forcing a small smile.

"Yeah. A lot better. Guess I just needed to sleep it off."

"We were starting to worry," Aditi said, holding up a notebook.

"I took notes for you in case you're ready to catch up."

Maggie gave her a grateful look.

"Thanks. You're a lifesaver."

Oliver leaned against the doorframe, his usual smirk in place.

"You missed all the excitement, though."

Maggie frowned slightly, tilting her head.

"What excitement?"

"You know that weird flu going around?" Charlotte asked, leaning closer.

"Two more students caught it. The whole school's buzzing about it."

"And," Oliver added, his grin widening,

"Professor Harrow had a full-on meltdown during a debate yesterday. You really missed a show."

Maggie chuckled softly, though something about their words left her unsettled.

"Well, sounds like I picked the wrong time to get sick. Anything else?"

The three exchanged glances before Charlotte spoke again.

"Not really. Just glad to see you're up and about. Let us know if you need anything, okay?"

Maggie nodded.

"I will. Thanks for checking in."

As they walked away, Maggie closed the door, leaning against it with a faint sigh. Something felt off—like there was a piece of the puzzle missing. But whatever it was, she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Shaking off the unease, she decided to focus on catching up and getting back to normal.