#Bruce and Tim are concerned for the sad sick child

[nightingale-prompts]

Bringing back another black-haired and blue-eyed boy was met with a round of sighs but acceptance.

Little Davey looked only a few years younger than Damian. 12 years old at the most. The boy was pale, slightly gaunt, with large eyes and matted black hair.

Davey was strange. He didn't understand social cues or how to exist in public. He knew next to nothing about how the world works or how to stay safe. Cars were familiar enough but only because he would be dragged into them or put in the trunk. He was very excited when he was allowed to touch the buttons.

Damian wasn't ready to be an older brother especially not to something like that thing. Davey felt wrong to Damian. Something that shouldn't exist.

Damian was proved right when the boy looked him right in the eyes and said.

"Play with me." He pulled Damian's drawn sword to his neck. "Cut me open!"

Bruce snatched Davey back from the blade and told Damian to put it away. Davey was forbidden from entering the Batcave and any dangerous items.

Damian was freaked out. Davey was too mentally disturbed to be here. However, the revenant is fond of his older brother and follows him around and begs him to play. Damian has to try pawning him off on the others but Davey is like glue.

Then there was food.

Davey didn't understand food. He had been fed a mostly liquid diet for his short life by Vlad. The liquid was made from nutrients and ectoplasm. After escaping Davey didn't know what food looked like. When strangers came up to him offering candy he took it. So he learned that candy was also food. But that wasn't enough to make him full, so he resorted to the closest form of ectoplasm he could find. Human blood. He learned that he could drink it for sustenance.

Feeding Davey for the first time was...sad. He was like a toddler learning what different flavors were. Sour, salty, and savory. All so new a wonderful.

Tim let him him have a sip of soda and Davey was hooked.

Tim is also banned from giving food to Davey after letting him try coffee and making him sick.

Stephanie is also banned after giving him spicy chips. Mostly because of Davey's need to harm himself caused him to eat himself sick.

Davey's issues are more than concerning. Dick was supposed to watch him while Bruce was investigating the last suicide linked to Davey. Davey didn't know how to talk to someone not trying to kill him. But Dick felt like him. The blood on his hands was the same as his. But the lingering scent of another pulled Davey elsewhere.

The other revenant.

One that felt a similar drive.

Bruce debated if Jason should meet Davey. It could help them both but it could easily make them worse. Davey was impressionable, to say the least, and Jason didn't need to bring someone else on his crusade.

Jason wouldn't use Davey like that but Davey would surely agree to it.

But Davey wasn't like Jason. He didn't kill. He gets killed. He lets himself be tortured until he drives others insane. Jason could never use him to kill the Joker. In fact, the clown must never know of Davey's powers or Davey might find his eternal playmate.

But it doesn't change that Jason and Davey will meet.

"Yeah, he's coming with me," Jason said picking up the boy under one arm.

"You can't just take him!" Dick yelled

"Do you guys think you can control him? That he'll stop wandering around looking for more targets. He can't and he won't. It's a part of him. At least I can get to his targets before they can kill him first. If he can sniff out any predator then he can use his powers for good." Jason said .

"He's not like us. He's a child and mentally he isn't ready for the outside world yet. I love you but I can't let you drag him into your mess." Dick said.

"And what? Fix him? He is a revenant and he's going to seek out his obsession. In a place like Gotham, he will find another target. He needs it." Jason barked.

There is no clear answer. They could try to preserve any innocence Davey had left but that same innocence led him to being tortured. They could also tell him what he's actually doing and he'll then do it on purpose knowingly killing others. What was better for him mentally because they all knew by this point Davey would strike again? It's his nature.

The only answer they had right now was finding where Davey died originally and calming his spirit. If they could find his original killer or make a grave for him then he'd settle.

Constantine was firm that Davey couldn't leave even if they calmed his soul. His life and death were too traumatic for him to disappear.

On the other side of the country, Danny had a bad feeling. He knew he should leave his clones to themselves and wait for them to come home on their own but his most recent clone brother bothered him. He wasn't like Elle at all. He was...odd. Danny decided not to worry too much since the clone was stable.

But then Vlad talked non-stop about losing his "precious boy". The word made him feel sick. Then there was the first death. Some offender that lived on the outskirts of town ended their life. The only reason anyone talked about it was the state he was found in. Blood was everywhere more blood than a single human body had and unknown chunks of meat scattered the ground.

Danny brushed it off but more started happening and they led a bloody trail.

Of course, Danny knew something was up. This all lined up perfectly with the clone's escape. But at the same time, all the victims were serial child murderers. It was hard to feel bad about it. He had found his obsession and it was such a bad one.

But Danny was still worried. A bit of investigation wouldn't hurt.

(This all came out as a stream of consciousness)

Lay Me to Rest- DCxDP Prompt

Warning: Blood and gore

There has been a series of murders across the country. Each death was varied and self-inflicted. At first, they all seemed like suicide but each had a strange range of symptoms before death.

Sudden paranoia, incoherent mumbling, screaming or yelling, going in and out of their homes sporadically, random fixations, and finally self-harm.

The victims were teachers, parents, businessmen, truckers, and even a crime novelist. All unrelated and in different states.

Each victim didn't seem to have a connection until an investigation discovered that each one had been an active serial killer. The body counts ranged from as little as 5 to as much as 23. The killer was named the Serial Serial Killer which wasn't creative but it was catchy. Some called them the Angel of Vengeance but most thought it was cringy and overdramatic. Many people didn't want them to be caught but others hotly debated letting a killer dispense justice when their crusade could easily turn into them killing people for innocuous things.

The police were still questioning whether this killer even existed. One thing was clear, there was a trail and it led straight to Gotham. A goldmine for them. Naturally, Batman had gotten a hold on the case and began an investigation.

The biggest question was how the killer found their victims and how they knew that they were killers.

The answer was obvious. They didn't need to figure it out. They just needed to wait. Why just in the effort to investigate when a serial killer tries to convince you to leave with them? So bars are the obvious place. But that's shaky at best since there is a period of torment that takes place that allows the victims to return home. The killer doesn't care if the victims could call the police, perhaps because they know their victim won't.

Bruce started to build a profile. He saw a pattern here. Each of the victims had a preference for their victims as well. They targeted young people, mainly boys. Odds are the Serial Serial Killer matched that description or age range. So bars weren't the hunting ground. So parks were more likely to go unnoticed and boys tended to hang out there longer after dark.

The killer was more than likely a victim himself so he may have a few scars but probably not noticeable enough that his would-be assailants would be turned off. There is no ignoring the predatory nature of the victims. Each killed children for gratification in some form. It's not that the boy is attractive but he probably has traits that the victims found attractive in children. So babyfaced, short, native, and polite.

There was much else Bruce could get. There was nothing concrete and he still didn't understand the method that was used. So far this was guesswork.

It wasn't until a few weeks later while he tracking another killer that he found his answer.

Dr.Kinder a Biologist by day and a killer who experiments on his victims at night had picked up a promising new lab rat a week ago. He had intended to slowly dissect the boy. He had gotten so used to the screams he stopped using anesthetics besides he wanted to see how the fear response caused the organs to shift.

To his surprise the boy didn't fight, in fact he seemed to jump to the table and say he didn't need restraints. Disturbing. But he was restrained anyways.

As the doctor cut him open the boy didn't react, only humming to himself as he watched the doctor.

"What are you hoping to find?" He asked. "I'm getting bored and this bearly hurts."

The boy annoyingly never stopped talking and never missed a chance to ruin the moment. There were never any screams or cries but incessant talking.

Dr.Kinder found the boy disturbing so he simply took an axe and chopped the boy into pieces. Not once did he make a sound. The doctor thought it was over but the next day the boy was back. He sat on the autopsy table kicking his feet in nothing but his bare skin.

"What the hell are you?" The doctor gasped in horror.

"I'm bored. Play with me again." The boy purred.

Bile crawled up his throat as the doctor restained this...thing again.

This time the boy spoke differently.

"You cut me up last time. Did you do that to the last boy. After you...you know." A sick grin spread across his cheeks.

The doctor cut open his neck this time and let him bleed out.

Everyday he came back and every day the doctor killed him until the time between his death got shorter and shorter. The days began to blur and he had no idea how long he had been doing this. But that thing kept talkimg to him.

Dr.Kinder stared down at his desk at the papers trying to think of anything but-

"I wonder what people would think about what you've done. You're a disgusting and depraved man doctor. Look at what you've done to me." The sing-song voice of that demon called out.

He could feel those blood-soaked arms wrapped around his neck.

He flinch as he pushed the thing away.

"Oh, are you going to beat me or stab me this time? Ooo, or are you going to put me through the woodchipper again?" The demon asked as the doctor wrapped his hands around his throat.

He just kept squeezing until the boy went limp. It never ends. The blood never goes away. It covered every surface of the room. Dripping, conjugating, and spreading into every corner. Whenever he turned his head he could see body parts spread across the room in the pools of blood he could they the faces of the others that he had killed. Each face wretched in agony.

"You hold on better than the others. I've been eaten, torched, and disemboweled before but after coming back a few times they usually end it after a few words. But every time they don't feel guilt. They just don't want to face consequences." The boy said. "Do you even remember my name? The one I told you when you picked me up on the side of the road or was I just another body to use and discard? I used the name of your first victim. I hoped you'd notice."

The doctor knew he couldn't kill the boy but he could end himself. He had tried it once but just like the kid he came back without a scratch.

"Not yet. This is your life now. Come on, let's taste death together. Again and again and again and again and-" he repeated over and over.

This was hell. This was his hell.

But it came to an end eventually. Dr.Kinder put an end to himself in a gruesome display.

Batman had only caught the tail end as he faced a young boy standing an a pool of blood.

****

"Yeah, that thing is like a worse version of a revenant. Doesn't really have a name yet to describe it. It's undead for sure. You kill it and it just comes back." Constantine said "Why did you bring it here?"

After a long bath and some new clothes, the kid looked normal as played on a phone given to him.

"Look, I didn't know what else to do." Bruce explained.

"You leave it alone!" Constantine said exasperated "Look they are harmless to anything they don't bear a grudge towards. Think of it as a force of nature." Constantine said.

"I just want to know how to stop him." Bruce said.

"Well you can't kill it but you can't bring him back entirely. You can just soothe it 'till it stops targeting its victims. It must have died pretty gruesomely to go to these lengths. You need to find where it died and lay it to rest. Properly." Constantine sighed knowing that appeasing this soul would be more than just difficult.

"Danny, come on. Let's go." Bruced said putting a hand on the boy's head as Danny stood up to leave.

"Okay. Bye!" Danny waved to Constantine.

[bucketofpaint]

Dp x Dc Bad parents with a twist.

The Fentons find out about Danny being Phantom. Either from Vlad or just randomly. They take it badly. They think Phantom is possessing him, but they think they can "save" him. Unfortunately, the GIW think otherwise and want to destroy their son. So what do they do? They erase all signs of their existence in Amity and wiping every article and study they ever had on ghost. Then they packed up and moved to Gotham in the middle of the night. Cutting Danny off from his friends and Jazz (due to her being at college and disagreeing with them). Vlad and the Fentons become business partners. Publicly, the three work together making and marketing inventions. while privately trying to 'fix' Danny on the side.

Danny has to wear an upgraded specter deflector, which is a thin metal bracelet.

Having half of himself offline for a long period of time has been causing his physical health to decline. That and the experiments his parents have been performing on him. No full-blown vivisection. He also gets anesthesia because they believe the Danny can still feel.

It wasn't long for the people of Gotham to start to talk about Vlad Co's new business partners and their sickly son. It wasn't long after for Bruce Wayne to gain some interest as well.

The first time Bruce met the Fentons was at a gala with Masters introducing them. Jack, Maddie, and Their son. He was also able to observe that he looked more sickly in person. With deep eye bags, pale skin, and how thin he was. It made Bruce's heart ache thinking what the boy about Tim's age had been having to endure.

The conversation contuied. Danny nervously fidgeting, only giving curt responses. Mr Fenton laughed, joking about how Danny didn't like fancy events. He excused Danny, telling him to grab something to eat. Danny nodded and rushed away, grabbing food and settling down in a nestled in a far back conner.

Bruce continued talking to the enthusiastic pair, talking glances at the boy occasionally. He felt some of his tension relax when spotting Tim taking a seat near Danny.

After the gala Tim and Bruce got together and compared notes. They both came to one conclusion.

They needed to find out more.

[sparkypantaloons]

Only Pieces

Every time he sees Jason he has to remind himself that it’s real. His son, his precious boy, is here and breathing and living. But, alive or not, he still died. And that bit never goes away.

Jason came back, but Bruce still mourns his death.

Love is the whole thing. We are only pieces.

It hits Bruce out of nowhere. Like a rabid wolf materialising out of the warm afternoon air, savaging him in to pieces of the man he once was. Breath, bone and sinew; torn apart and thrown up into the atmosphere. He can’t see, he can’t hear, he can’t speak. Why would he need to? He’s nothing but fragments now. Left to rot down into dust.

“You okay, B?” Tim asks, looking at him concerned.

He pulls his mortarboard hat off Jason’s head, elbows his brother in the ribs.

Bruce blinks. Tries to pull the shards of himself back together. Cobble them into something that resembles human.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, old man.” Jason says, side-eyeing him. He shrugs off the graduation gown as he speaks, throws it over Tim’s head.

Tim huffs, grabbing at the swathes of fabric. His hair sticks up in all directions as the cloth falls into his hands.

Bruce manages a stiff nod. Clears his throat. “We need to leave in five.” He says. The words rise in his throat like glass.

Tim shrugs. “Ready when you are.”Jason doesn’t say anything. He just stares at the older man, eyes narrowed.

Bruce turns. Leaves the library. His vision is blurring, he feels like he might be sick.

Somehow he finds his way to his study. He closes the door more heavily than he intended and it rattles in its frame. The sound is like an assault, all at once too loud and barely audible over the rushing in his ears.

He sits in the chair behind his desk. Gropes for the second drawer down on the right hand side. The whiskey bottle rattles as he yanks the drawer open. Then the liquid rattles down his throat as he drinks straight from the bottle. It doesn’t burn the way it used to, but it still works. Just.

His senses return. Taste first, then smell, the woody flavour of the spirit left lingering in his mouth. Then he can feel the bottle in his hand, round and smooth under his calloused fingers. He watches the liquid settle as he places it down on the desk, the blurring at the edge of his vision disappearing. He can breathe again.

He slumps back in the chair, tilts his head back and takes a deep breath through his nose. A tear escapes the corner of his eye before he can stop it. He wipes it away quickly and takes another deep breath. He can’t do this now.

“Master Bruce?” Alfred is stood in the doorway. His eyes slide from the younger man to the bottle on his desk, and he tilts his head knowingly. “The boys are waiting.” He says gently.

Bruce nods. His eyes are in danger of blurring again. “Jason, he…” He croaks. He screws his eyes shut, takes another steadying breath.

“I know, Master Bruce.” Alfred says kindly. “I saw.”

~

Bruce drives Tim to his graduation ceremony and Dick comes too. Tim makes his brother sit in the back because even if Dick is the oldest, it’s Tim’s graduation. They chatter away on the journey and Bruce makes sure to laugh or interject at the right moments, to frown or make disapproving sounds when he should. But he’s gripping the steering-wheel too tightly and he’s not fool enough to think they haven’t noticed.

When they arrive, they have photos taken of the three of them. Dick and Bruce in dark blue suits, Tim in between them in his academic regalia. They grin brightly but Bruce only just remembers to let go of Tim when it’s over. Remember’s that he can’t hold his children in his arms forever, no matter how much he wants to.

They mingle before the ceremony, meeting some of Tim’s friends and their families. Brucie Wayne comes out, and Bruce manages to lose himself in the performance. He almost convinces himself that he’s okay, is sure that he will have at least convinced the boys. But when he and Dick take their seats in the hall and Tim has left to sit with the rest of his class, Dick reaches down and takes his hand. He squeezes it tightly and says under his breath “You’re okay, Bruce. It’s okay.”

Bruce has to take another deep breath, then makes the command decision that enough is enough. He slips his hand out of Dick’s, takes out his phone and opens an old WhatsApp group. He sends a short message, then mutes the chat before any replies come through.Today is about Tim.

Bruce slips the phone back into his pocket. He can fall apart later.

~

Tim accepts his degree and they have more photos. He throws his mortarboard higher than any of the other graduates, and then he puts the cape on Bruce and the hat on Dick for one last photo, grinning between them and clutching his certificate, one arm wrapped tightly around Bruce’s waist.

Back at the Manor there are more photos and Alfred opens some champagne. Steph and Babs are there, Cass and Damian and Jason too. Together they laugh and hug and clink glasses and order pizza for dinner, because Tim didn’t want Alfred cooking when he should be celebrating with his family.

Bruce lets himself slip under the surface of the noise, the sound of his children, bickering and joking and breathing and growing. The sound of the living. He lets the sheer life of them wash over him, feels the splinters of his heart float to the surface. He can breathe again.

Dick watches him from across the room. Bruce pretends not to notice.

~

It’s a long few hours later when he checks his phone. The old group chat full with unannounced messages.

He slips quietly out of the drawing room. The hallway is cold away from the warmth of his family. He suppresses a chill and makes his way to his study.

Sat at his desk in the quiet and the dark, he feels some of his resolve seep out of him. The Zoom loading wheel spins, then faces begin to populate the screen. There’s Judy in the top right, her horn rimmed glasses sitting atop her thick curly hair. Sal is just beneath her, his French bulldog snoozing in his lap. Top left is Bhavin, Ganesh sat on a shelf behind him, peeking out behind the cloud of white hair. Beneath him, in the bottom left of the screen, is Bruce. Elbows resting on the desk, heels of his hands pressed into his eyes.

“Oh darlin’.” Sal’s southern drawl comes through the speakers. “What happened?”

Bruce can’t speak. His throat has closed up. He’s trying desperately to force his tears back into his eyes, but they slip down under his hands anyway.

"Didn’t your boy graduate today?” Bhavin asks. He’s lived in the US fifty years, but his voice still carries the sound of his native Mumbai.Bruce manages a nod.

“Ah damn.” Judy says softly, pushing a hand to her chest. “That’s hard.”

“It’s been years.” Bruce croaks out. “This shouldn’t… I shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what?” Bhavin asks him sharply. “Shouldn’t still mourn your child? What his life could have been?”

Bruce takes a deep breath. He finally looks at the screen. “I just… I know today was about Tim, but all I could see was Jason in the cap and gown, clear as day. And all I could think was how he should have graduated. How he should have grown up and been safe and happy and whole and…” He trails off. Stops himself before the tears threaten to spill again.

“He should have.” Judy says emphatically. “Jason should have had all those things. And so should my Tiana, and Sal’s Michelle and Bhavin’s Darshan.”

“It’s not fair.” Sal adds. “It’s not fucking fair and it’ll never be easy. Because you love your boy and he shouldn’t have been taken so soon.”

“My Darshan died forty years ago.” Bhavin says solemnly. “I still cry. I still wonder what he would be like now, who he would have become. Still rage he is not here with me. It never goes away.”

Bruce nods, and it’s Bhavin’s last sentence that keeps the guilt at bay. Because of course Bruce can’t tell them that Jason isn’t dead anymore. He can’t tell them how Jason dragged his small broken bones out of his own grave and clawed his way back to life. How he’s currently sat not fifty feet away, under Bruce’s own roof, surrounded by family and warmth and love.

And part of it doesn’t feel fair. That his boy came back when their children didn’t. But he’d gladly spend the rest of eternity paying whatever debt it is he owes for that miracle. Every time he sees Jason he has to pinch himself, remind himself that it’s real. His son is alive, his precious boy is here and breathing and living.

But, alive or not, he still died. And that bit never goes away.The grief of it comes out of nowhere. On a Tuesday afternoon, in the middle of a board meeting, or out on patrol on a Thursday night. It’ll hit him when he’s eating breakfast, or brushing his teeth, when he’s in the gym, or lying in bed… and the ground will fall out from under him. He’ll plummet into an abyss of grief and despair and rage. His boy, his darling boy. Dead. The life he could have lived, the wonder he could have been. Gone.

Because even if Jason is back, is alive, the dying never goes away.

All the pain and torment that came with it is here to stay, for good. He’ll never be what he could have been and Jason never deserved that.

It’s these three people, these once-strangers, who in some ways helped keep him alive just as much as Tim did, that bring him back from that edge. People who understand just as well as him that feeling of loss. How a taste or a smell can mean nothing one day and have you drowning the next.

Bruce hadn’t bothered to respond when Leslie had suggested he join a support group. She couldn’t possibly understand what it was to lose a child; what value could her advice possibly have? But then the rational part of his mind, what sad, little fragment of it was left, said that a support group could understand. That that was the whole point.

So he’d done it. Apprehensive though he was, he’d shown up on a rainy Wednesday evening all those years ago. At a church hall that wasn’t quite warm enough, serving coffee that was all but cold. Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd’s father. Turns out grief takes the edge off celebrity. Judy and Sal and Bhavin didn’t care who he was, only what he’d been through, only what he’d lost. Being a billionaire didn’t make you immune from loss. Hell, neither did being Batman. Nothing did. They understood that. In a way no-one else in his life did. And all these years later they understood it, still.

“You’re allowed to be sad, Bruce.” Judy says. “A hundred years from now you’re still allowed to be sad. But you have to keep on.”

“Remember Tim did it for him too.” Sal says. “Your boys and Cass are living for Jason too. Just like you are.”

Judy and Bhavin nod in agreement and Bruce finds himself joining in.

“Thank you.” He says. And he means it. “As always.”

“Any time, beta.” Bhavin says. “Any time.”

The screen goes black, and Bruce sits with his thoughts a moment. Already a weight has started to lift and he finds himself glad the night isn’t over yet. That his family is waiting just a short walk away.

Ace pads into the room, rest his head on Bruce’s knee. He scratches the dog behind his ears.

“Err… what are you doing?”

Bruce startles. Dick is stood in the doorway, staring at him with a look of concern.

“Why are you sat in the dark?”

Bruce can’t quite help himself when he says. “I’m Batman.”

Dick rolls his eyes so aggressively they might pop out of his head.

“What are you two doing?” Jason walks in to join them. “Why are you in here in the dark?”

“Why are you in here in the dark?” Dick shoots back.

“I came looking for you.” Jason shoves Dick lightly.

“I came looking for him.” Dick shoves him right back.

Bruce stands and walks towards them. He can't help but smile. “Mission accomplished.” He says. “What fine detectives you both are.”

This time Jason rolls his eyes, but Dick says, “You okay, B?”

Bruce nods, puts his arms around both of their shoulders as they leave the study, and maybe, just maybe, he squeezes Jason a little tighter than normal, relishes the solid aliveness of his second son in his arms. “I’m fine.” He says. “Just fine.”

[queerbutstillhere]

Hiya!! Wow u still doing amazing prompts? How about a soulmate AU for Jondami? Where Kyptonians feel a "click" once they meet their soulmate and that even if they date someone else they can feel as much love that the feel for their mate.

(Hi! Sorry it took this long! I hope you get to see this! And I hope it is good!)

When he was young, his dad explained it to him. Told him how they, as Kryptonian's would often have "soulmates". Said he wasn't sure if Jon would experience this, since he was only half kryptonian, but it was best to just be prepared.

He explained how there was this click. Why everything seemed off and disfunctional, how it felt like everything was just shifted to the left a bit. Why Jon felt odd, like the world was buzzing at such a low decible that he could just barely hear it. And he told Jon that this may stop one day, or he would just stop noticing it.

It was this way because of their soulmates. And once he met his soulmate, things would just click. Everything would be normal and right again. He would feel the shift. So he needed to pay attention if that happened, watch who he had been with. Clark explained that he could still fall in love with people other then his soulmate, Clark had done it so many times before he met Lois, but it would never quite be as perfect as it would be with his soulmate.

Jon took this very seriously, and from that day as a young child, to an eleven year old when he felt it, he paid great attention to all his interactions.

And then he met Robin.

And his world shifted back into focus.

His meeting with Robin hadn't been fantastic, they had tried to kill each other, multiple times. But Jon couldn't ignore the fact that the first time he touched Robin, he physically felt this snap inside him. A Click. In fact it startled him so much that Robin got the upperhand and would have seriously hurt Jon, had Bruce not stepped in right at that moment.

Jon had been shaken up for days after, and refused to tell his parents why. So they chose to believe Robin had done something to their precious child. And they were furious. But he needed to tell someone, and when his older (yet younger?) brother popped in for his monthly visit, he managed to drag Kon outside.

"Hey, kiddo, what's wrong? You're looking a little green. Been exposed to any kryptonite recently?"

Jon shook his head. He did feel a little sick. They were sat on the roof of the barn, staring out over the cow pastures.

"Jon?" Conner asked, joking tone dropped, now just concerned. "Are you okay? What's wrong? Do you need to go to a doctor? I can take you to dad if you don't want Clark and Lois to know?"

"No! I'm not... I'm not sick. And why is Lex a better option then Dad?!"

"He does care what I do? Also I thought you liked Lex."

Jon didn't respond, wrapping his arms around his knees.

"Kon, did dad explain the soulmates thing to you?"

"Sure did. Why- oh my God, did you? Who is it?! Did you tell them?!"

"Shh!" Jon hissed, glaring at his brother.

Kon immediately sobered, reaching out to wrap an arm around Jon.

"Who is it, Jon? What's the matter?"

"It's... Robin."

Conner blinked at him a few times in confusion.

"The... The demon spawn? Tim's little brother?"

Jon nodded a couple times, pushing his face into his knees.

"... Wow. Okay. That's. Yikes. Didn't he try to kill you?"

Another nod.

Kon gently rubbed his back. "Well. It's okay, Jon. You don't... You're only eleven, you don't have to do anything about it. Maybe- maybe it's best not to tell anyone else? Clark and Lois might-" Kon cut off with a small sigh.

Jon just groaned and pressed his face harder against his legs.

"It's okay," was Kon's comforting mantra as he hugged his small brother for a moment.

And it was.

In the end, Jon practically forgot about it. He grew up, was Damian's partner, became his best friend, hung out with him all through highschool. He almost forgot about the soulmate thing. Except sometimes he'd notice how much sharper his world was when he was with Damian, or how much happier he was around him.

But he fell in love in highschool, had his heart dramatically broken when his girlfriend cheated on him, even spent a whole evening bemoaning his sad life to Damian as they ate vegan ice cream on the roof of the barn, wrapped in fluffy blankets.

He thought he maybe fell for Damian, his senior year of highschool, but Damian was off, traveling abroad, so it was easy to forget, and then he spent his summer after working and barely saw him. And then Jon was off to college, barely saw any of his friends, let alone his best friend who lived in another country at this point, stopped superheroing, just focused solely on college.

It wasn't until his senior year of college that he realized his world had fallen back into disarray, that things were off again.

It wasn't until senior year that he remembered Damian was his soulmate.

He sent Damian a simple text.

-Hey, next time you're in the states, we should hang out. I know it's been a while, but I'd love to catch up!

Two days later, he got a response.

~Hello! Sorry for not responding sooner. I am currently in Gotham, actually, would you like to meet up this weekend?

Well that was easier than anticipated.

-Yeah! Sure, I can come down there if you want? Does Sunday work?

~Yes. You can come for lunch if you wish. It shall be at noon.

-I'll be there :)

So Sunday Jon showered and flew to Gotham, wearing fairly nice clothes. As nice as it got for a college student with an unpaid internship. Okay so it was pretty nice clothes BECAUSE of his internship. He didn't fly much these days, but it wasn't like he forgot how to. He just headed to Gotham and plopped himself on the front step of the manor, taking a moment to sort himself, straighten out the wildly tangled hair, smooth down his burgandy sweater and fix the cuffs of the button down he had on underneath it. And then he rang the doorbell.

It was only a brief wait, and then the door swung open to reveal one of many black haired blue eyed brothers of Damian's. Jon's memory immediately kicked in and reminded him the buff one with the white streak was Jason.

"Hi, Jason!" He said with a grin.

Jason, who had scruff and bags under his eyes and smelled like cigarettes, grunted.

"Welcome back, kid. It's been a while since you've been around."

Jon smiled and shrugged. "Well, I've been busy with school and all that."

Jason shrugged in return and opened the door, letting Jon in

"Do I still need to take my shoes off?" Jon asked, pointing at the pile by the door.

Jason looked at it, then at Jon. "To save the old man's back, we'll say yes. I don't even know anymore."

Jon raised an eyebrow and took off his dress shoes, following Jason further into the house.

"I think Damian's in the kitchen with Alfie."

"Okay. Thanks Jason!"

"Uh-huh."

Jon headed into the kitchen and did indeed find Damian, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he helped Alfred cook. He looked up as he heard the door open, and his eyes widened slightly. Jon felt the same thing happen to him. Because man had Damian grown up. Of course Jon had seen his social media and seen this, but it was completely different to see him in real life, just a few feet away. He was wearing a green sweater, and black slacks, black dress socks on his feet. His olive skin was dark, darker then Damian had ever been while living in Gotham. His black hair was short on the sides and back, and still the same long, fluffy top.

"Jonathan, hello!" Alfred said cheerfully, the elderly man smiled at him.

"Hey, Alfred."

Damian seemed to snap out of his daze, glancing down at the food he was stirring then back up to Jon.

"Hello," he said with a smile. He set down his spoon and washed his hands quickly.

"Hi."

Damian stepped closer. "Has it been too long to get a hug?"

Jon chuckled and stepped into him, wrapping his arms around Damian and hugging him tightly. Damian's arms slipped around his waist and returned it, his chin on Jon's shoulder.

And there it was again. The click. The settling of his universe. The reminder that things were okay and good and right.

"It's good to see you," Damian murmured gently, his eyes closed.

Jon hummed gently. "Yeah. It's been a while."

He didn't want to let go. He felt safe hugging Damian. He felt warm and happy.

Damian started to pull back so he let go and watched Damian head back and return to stirring his food.

"So watcha cooking?"

"Sauteing asparagus, lunch is almost ready. Grandfather, could you go get the others and then get them seated in the dining room?"

"Sure, my boy," Alfred said with a smile and then headed out, walking a little slower then Jon last remembered.

Damian watched him leave, eyes full of concern. Jon was too busy reeling in the fact that his ears weren't buzzing anymore and that things didn't feel slightly blurry.

"He's not moving as good as he used too," Damian commented softly, and then shook his head a bit.

"Anyway. How are you? How is college?" Damian asked, smiling.

"College is good. Was good. I'm almost done now. I've got an internship at an architectural firm."

"Oh. Nice. You were going for interior design, right? Or was it architecture?"

"Architecture."

"That makes sense...."

Jon chuckled, looking around the kitchen which was still the same.

"So you finally gave up on the glasses?"

"What? Oh yeah. I don't do a lot of superboy stuff anymore so no one really recognized me as him... I plan to change my uniform and add a mask here soon though."

"That's smart."

"Do you, um? Do you still do vigilante stuff?"

"Oh, in Europe? Some, but you'd be surprised at the lack of supervillains over there. But yes, I do some over there."

Jon nodded. "That makes sense."

"Can you grab that pan for me?" Damian pointed at a casserole dish.

"Sure!"

Jon grabbed it and followed him out to the dining room. The rest of the family was there, getting seated, fussing over Alfred. Jon ended up following Damian back into the kitchen and helped him carry out a few more dishes that all looked expertly cooked and foreign. And then they sat down and ate. Dinner was great, the Wayne family had fun catching up with Jon. And then after, Jon and Damian went for a walk around the Manor, enjoying the nice spring weather.

Jon knew he needed to tell Damian but he didn't know how. They just walked and lightly chatted and caught up. Finally they reached the gardens and Jon reached out grabbed Damian's hand, pulling him to sit on a bench.

"I need to tell you something."

"Okay? What's wrong?" Damian asked, concern filling his face.

Damian showed emotions so much more freely know. Jon had known him for over 10 years now, so this was kinda surprising.

"There's this. . . " He sighed.

Then he stood and started pacing.

"Kryptonian's have this thing. . . They have soulmates," he started explaining, not looking at Damian. "We can feel when we meet our soulmates, it's like this click when we first touch them and-"

"Oh," Damian said. "Interesting. Is there any changes after?"

"After? After the click? Yeah, before, things feel off and for me there's like this buzzing noise. After things just felt more clear and like the world is more focused."

"Interesting."

"Damian. Damian there's a reason I'm telling you this," Jon said, turning to him.

"Why-"

"Because the first time I touched you thirteen years ago, I felt that click."

Damian blinked.

"And when I hugged you again today, I felt the click again."

"Oh," Damian said softly.

"Yeah.... I'm sorry for throwing this on you, but I had to tell you. And we can still fall in love, outside of our soulmate, but things will always feel off."

Damian wasn't responding, just nodding slightly. Jon went silent, crossing his muscular arms and watching him cautiously.

"Well."

Jon sighed. "I'm sorry. Should I go? I should go. I'll let you think about it-"

"Jon, wait!" Damian exclaimed, standing.

Jon had already been flying, so he stopped, blinking.

"Thank you, for telling me. And especially thank you for not telling me earlier, when we were younger. I would not have known how to take it and I undoubtedly would have run away from you."

Jon smiled softly, touching back down to the ground.

"And I'm sorry, for being a horrible friend back then."

"It's okay, Damian. You weren't as bad as you seem to think."

Damian just shook his head slightly. He stepped forwards and hugged Jon again.

"Give me a little time to process this, okay? I'm not going to run away."

"Okay."

Jon smiled to himself as he hugged Damian for a minute, as he felt that warmth and safety.

And then he stepped back. "It was good to see you, Damian."

"You too, Jon."

They waved to each other and then Jon took off up into the air, heading back home.

A few days later he got another text from Damian.

~ I think I'm going to be in the states for a while.

- Yeah? That's cool! I'm sure your family will be happy to hear that.

~ yes. They were.

~ Would you like to get dinner sometime? So we can talk.

- That would be amazing.

~ Thursday?

- Sure, around seven? I can come down there if we push it to 7:30.

~ No, I'll come to you, so seven is fine. Send me your address and I'll pick you up. Dress nicely, business casual.

- Okay, I'll see you then :)

Three weeks later, they were dating.

Send me prompts!

[miss-choco-chips]

Janet Drake...

and the Orphans. She doesn’t care for them. Except when Timothy does, because then it’s a problem™.

----.----

The days following the circus tragedy found Janet constantly wearing a curious accessory. And by that, she means Tim was hanging on to her at all times like a stubbornly stuck belt or backpack, depending on whether he was clinging to her waist or shoulders.

It was a little suffocating at times, but to be honest, the cercany helped her frayed nerves as well as his growing separation anxiety. Because Jack had left, and she was still steaming over the fact.

Her husband, back home for the week, had left for the next dig site earlier than expected, scared away by Timothy’s nightmares and cries. As if it were weird for a four year old to be scared out of his mind by witnessing another little kid’s parents die in front of him. As if it was a minor inconvenience and awkward situation, instead of future therapy material for their kid.

‘Coward’, she thought, full of spite, hand carefully brushing Tim’s hair away from his forehead as he slept with his head in her lap, watching from the couch as Jack trudged down the stairs with his travel suitcase at the ready. 

She wouldn’t ask him to stay, though. Timothy deserved parents willing to stay by their own volition, no some half witted irresponsible man-child who couldn’t deal with a little emotional trauma. 

Like, Janet herself wasn’t the best at reassurance, but at least she was trying, dear god. That had to count more than Jack’s escape act.

But, useless husband aside, she was… worried. About her son.

Emotional trauma wasn’t something she could just intimidate into submission. Some desperate dream, like owning an island, she had the money to fulfil for him. Unknown attacker to eliminate? Sure, there were no lacking meatbags in the market for hire to...make someone else disappear. But dealing with stuff that included heart to hearts and love? Yeah, no. She always thought Jack would be the one dealing with that kind of thing, so she was wholly unprepared for it. It also wasn’t an issue she could just push into her friends; Both Nicole and Lex were equally as unexperienced (inept) in that area.

Though, they did offer some sound advice.

“Take Timothy to see the boy”, suggested Luthor during their weekly business call (or, as Nicole called it, their bitchfest, where they despised together about the concerning lack of braincells flowing in the rest of the corporate world). “He’s probably worried sick about two things: your safety, and the kid’s who he saw become an orphan. Maybe seeing him well cared for by Wayne will be soothing enough for him to relax a little. Fuck if I know. Now, back at my story… You wouldn’t believe what that empty brained, graceless twit Oliver Queen said then.”

So Janet followed his advice, both about the visit to Wayne Manor and not making business with Queen.

After the first uncomfortable five minutes where Tim tried to stutter a condolence out, the kids had taken to one another like fishes to water. The adoration was clear in Tim’s eyes, shining through his nervousness, like that damn bat signal broke through the clouds to illuminate the city.

And Richard, Dick as he asked to be called, absolutely laped at it, doing flips and jumps, each one flashier than the one before, enticing claps from his captive audience of one. He laughed when Tim asked his usual hundred questions, undeterred by her son’s enthusiasm. There were tinges of the sadness and mourning on his eyes, but they were chased away by the four year old’s joy whenever he told a pun.

Sitting at one of the tea tables overseeing the garden where the kids played, Bruce and Janet interchanged looks.

-It was a good idea to bring Tim over, Janet -praised the man.

-Of course -she replied primly, choosing to not inform him it had been Luthor’s suggestion.

-Dick hasn’t laughed at all since he came here… maybe we can set more playdates for them?

Timothy’s laughter in her ears, unburdened for the first time since that night, was all the motivation she needed to nod.

-Why take him in, though? -she asked after a few minutes of watching as Dick did a double flip, to Tim’s excitement.

-Dick… what he went through… it was like seeing myself, back then. I couldn’t just leave him alone.

A sigh, and a sip of tea. 

-Bruce. You can’t adopt every single orphan you come across. 

-----.-----

A little over seven years later, Janet downed a glass of champagne in two long sips, watching from the side of the ballroom as Tim approached the newcomers to his birthday party: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, and his newest ward, Jason Todd.

-When I told him that, I didn’t mean it as a challenge.

-Hum? -asks Nicole, sharp green eyes on her godson, tilting her head a little to hear Janet better.

-Nothing. What are you looking at, that focused?

The woman gave Luthor, who completed their little group (god, reminders of high school much?), a side look. He returned it.

-I’m going to get started into the spa gift card -he said, apropos of nothing, before walking away, whipping out his phone and typing like a madman.

-What was he on about?

-Oh, nothing -mused Nicole, eyes still on Tim (who was, as always with the Waynes, a flustered mess, thanking them -and specially, their latest addition- for coming to his party). She took one of Janet’s hands in both of hers, finally looking away from the child to look at his mother. Nicole’s eyes were full of pity and amusement-. Be strong, Jan.

-What...?

----.-----

-...the fuck?

-Shhh, darling, breath. I told you, didn’t I? Be strong.

-What. Just… no. No. I refuse -he gestured, as graceful and lady like as she could given the circumstances- this. 

They were currently at Wayne Manor, celebrating with the Waynes the fourteenth birthday of the youngest of them. Tim, who had been very cagey and mysterious the last few months, had brought a potted flower. That, apparently, he grew himself, from a seed to the pretty little yellow sprout.

Alstroemeria, a beautiful flower which symbolises enduring friendship. Each of the flower's six petals represents the characteristics of understanding, humour, patience, empathy, commitment and respect.

That was the flower Timothy choose to gift Jason Todd, explaining as he did how he cared for the flower for weeks, telling it stories about Jason and asking it to give him good luck. Something about plants being magical, able to give off special vibes, and how he ‘trained’ it to do the same for Jason. 

It was adorable, and judging from the brat’s furious blush, he agreed. He took the hand-painted pot with utmost care.

It was revolting. She wanted to claw his eyes out, if only to get him to stop looking at her son like that.

Stop him from looking at her son, period.

-Shh -continued to sooth Nicole, quick hand slipping a card into Janet’s purse- There, an all day, full treatment, already paid for spa gift card, from me and Luthor. You’re going to need it. Timmy is eleven after all, hormones are bound to start kicking anytime soon.

She wanted to scream, especially when Richard, apparently tendered after Tim’s heartfelt gift to Jason, picked him up and started to spin him around the ballroom. Her son’s already rosy cheeks went full red.

-Damned Wayne and his godforsaken orphans. I swear to God I’m gonna sue him if he dares adopt another one.

Nicole, on her part, winced a little inwardly. Perhaps this wasn’t the right moment to tell Janet about her sister Talia’s spawn with Wayne.

[wedigbats]

The Snails revolution - Chapter 3 Jason Todd / Reader

Hello :) I am back with a new chapter also available on AO3 : 

http://tinyurl.com/y57d247r

When Lian woke up, it was still early. She hadn't slept much, annoyed by a feeling that didn't want to leave her alone. She liked Dick, he was her uncle Jay's older brother, and even though they didn't always get along, she knew that Jason didn't hate him as much as he wanted to suggest. 

She pulled herself out of the sheets and went to look for something in her suitcase. She grabbed a small notebook and a pen in her kit, then went back under the covers. Damian had told her several times that you have to write things down when you want to get an overview. When you let the information turn and turn, too long in your head you would end up being confused and you could no longer properly analyze the elements you had. 

She opened her notebook, and drew a line vertically in the middle of a blank page. At the top of the right column she wrote her uncle's first name, and at the top of the left column, the first name Dick. In each column she listed the behaviour that the person concerned had had with (Y/N). Dick had been charming, cheerful and seemed interested in everything (Y/N) and Lily had to say. He had been more considerate with (Y/N) than he had been with Lily but Lian thought it was mainly because (Y/N) had asked Dick about his brother. She had told her uncle's brother about their previous three encounters and had been surprised by Jason's hostility towards her when she had done nothing to attract anyone's wrath. 

Dick had explained to him that Jason was not easy to approach, that he was rather homey and liked his solitude. Lian didn't like that remark but didn't say anything. She reserved to herself the right to go to the young woman to deny the bad things that might have been said about her favorite uncle. In the column concerning Jason, the evidence gathered was not very encouraging. He had been cold, sulky, he ignored (Y/N) and replied only if he really had to. The only exception was during the meal, where despite the frontal attack launched by (Y/N) he remained calm. Lian was sure he wouldn't have been so diplomatic with one of his brothers or even Bruce. She had seen him with his brothers and he had no patience with them. 

She was sure of it, though. She had seen him glance at (Y/N) she would bet her life on it. And their neighbour seemed intrigued. Maybe not interested, Lian hadn't dared to ask the main interested party that very specific question, but at least she hadn't closed herself off. And last night she smiled at her uncle. That meant something, didn't it? And then, as Stephanie said, when a boy loves a girl, he doesn't really know how to say it, and he pulls her hair to get her attention. For all she knows, Uncle Jay's hostility might be his way of pulling girls' hair. 

Lian pouted. She wasn't quite convinced. Why did adults have to be so complicated? She wanted to call Damian to explain her idea, but she needed a phone, and the only phone here that had Damian's number was Jason's. In other words, she had little chances of getting her hands on it, and even less chance of calling Damian and explaining what she wanted before her uncle caught her and took back his property. 

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. She was about to close her notebook when she heard noise in the kitchen. Her father and Jason were up and talking while making their own breakfast. 

She quietly got up and stuck her ear to the bedroom door to listen to what they were saying. 

- Still pissed off at your brother? 

- Roy don’t start. 

- I was just wondering if you were mad at your brother because he's your brother and you always find a good excuse to argue, or because he seems to get along well with the neighbours. Face it Jay, he's good with people, and I saw the look on your face when he took (Y/N) in his arms last night. 

- Dick hugs everyone. He can't survive two hours without hugging anyone. We were all, molested by Dick the octopus, at least once.

Lian heard her father giggling, and had to hold back a laugh herself. It's true that Dick was a particularly tactile person. No one escaped it, not even Alfred or Damian. 

- You know, there's no shame in being attracted to someone. We all are at some point. 

- I'm not attracted to (Y/N). I'm no longer a child, if I like someone I don't beat around the bush. 

- But of course...... Jay... maybe you should think about it five minutes and think about how you felt when you saw your brother hugging (Y/N). I hadn't seen you react the way you've been reacting around that girl for a very long time. 

Jason did not answer his friend and changed the subject, preferring to talk about his evening patrol rather than dwell on his alleged feelings. 

Lian was not satisfied. She walked away from the door and went back to bed with her notebook. The adults were complicated, certainly it was not new for her, but still. Her father was happy at the time. She had seen him when they were in the park and restaurant, and all the time she was with him. And she knew that even when she wasn't there, he wasn't sad, and that he was happy to live with his best friend. Lian was relieved, she knew that he had not always been happy and that a few years before, he had been sick. Uncle Jay had done all he could to make everything seem normal to her so she would not be able to realize that her father was in a bad situation. She loved him very much for that, but she was worried that Jason would only smile for her, or Roy. She had never seen him with a girl or a boy like she had seen Dick, or Tim. She wanted him to be happy and not just by kicking the butts of bad guys who wanted to hurt him. Maybe she should talk to her father about it. Damian was too far away and she was no longer so sure that he would be able to help her. Or she could address adult girls, like Barbara or Stephanie. 

She sighed , worried, and got up. She could always see what options she had after eating her breakfast. And if Uncle Jay was in a good mood, maybe she could try to convince him to go see his family. Despite the fact that he would not be of any tangible help to her, she was missing Damian and his bad temper. That's how it is with friends, you tend to love them so much, you can forgive them for most of their flaws. 

When she entered the kitchen, Roy's face lit up. His daughter walked towards him and hugged him at the waist as she used to do, then turned to Jason to do the same. She sat down at the kitchen bar and waited quietly for her breakfast to be served. 

- Well rested, princess? 

Lian nodded with a smile. 

- Yes. I had a great time last night. Even if it would have been even better if you had been there. 

Roy let a laugh escape and passed his hand over his daughter's head, ruining her hair in the process. 

- You know we were supposed to go out last night, that's our job. 

- I know. I know. But I don't really like it. I like spending time with you. And last night Uncle Jay was wounded. 

She pointed to her uncle's forearm as he was preparing her toast. 

- Your father and I are used to it, and it's just scratches, nothing serious. 

She welcomed with pleasure her plate and her glass of orange juice. 

- Do you have to go out again tonight? 

- Jason has to go see someone, but I can stay. We've arranged for me to spend as much time with you as I can while you're here. 

- All right. But can we still spend time with you, Uncle Jay? 

- Of course, princess. I won't be long and I will be back home before you know it.

Lian smiled brightly and focused on her breakfast. The two adults had tea and coffee, and while the little girl at, they discussed Jason's evening appointment. Roy didn't like Lian to be present when they discussed their work, but since it was only a reconnaissance mission, and nothing violent was mentioned, he didn't mind. He loved having his daughter close to him despite the potential danger in his lifestyle. She was his lifeline, and he knew her by heart. He knew something was bothering her, and he could see the cogs in her head getting active. He suspected it had something to do with Jason but didn't say anything. Lian knew that if she wanted to talk, she could turn to her father, he would never stop her from speaking with an open heart, nor would he judge her on her questions. Maybe this time he should take the first step. After all, Jason was his best friend and Lian's unofficial uncle, she would certainly have more qualms about talking to her father if it was about her uncle. 

When the little girl had finished her plate, Jason took care of cleaning and tidying everything up. She went back to the room she was staying in and grabbed her notebook and pen, then went to sit on the couch while her father and Jason went about their business.

She opened a new blank page, sucked the tip of her pen, then, taking a breath, began to write.

"Dear Diary,..."

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Jason was finishing getting ready in his room when Lian came to see him. She slipped into his room and sat silently on the edge of his bed. 

- Is there a problem, princess? 

The little girl played for a moment with the plaid on the edge of the bed, before looking up at her uncle. 

- I wanted to ask you a question, but I don't know if you're going to want to answer. And I don't want you to be angry. 

She looked sad and looked down as soon as she answered Jason's question. He finished putting on his holster and came to sit next to his niece, and took her in his arms. 

- Lian, I'm not the best person to talk open-heartedly, I know that. However, there is no question, and I repeat, no question, that you could ask me that would make me angry. I can't guarantee that I'll be able to answer you, but I'll never get angry with you. 

His uncle's affirmation seemed to reassure Lian, and after taking a deep breath, she started speaking.

- I'm wondering, and Dad doesn't seem to see the same things as me, so I wanted to know..... I wanted to know why you were so cold and mean to the neighbours. I know you don't get along with your brothers, Barbara explained it to me. But (Y/N) and lily they're not part of your family. 

Jason swore silently, and promised himself to say two words to Barbara when he had five minutes. 

- Lian.... 

He squeezed her a little tighter against him and put his chin on the top of the little girl's head. 

- Your father, you and Kory are the people I'm closest to. A few years ago, I loved Bruce, and Dick was my hero and role model...

- Oh, really? 

- Yes, really. Then I had problems. Big problems that led me to realize that the admiration I had for Bruce and Dick was one-sided and that they had no problems replacing me in their lives. 

- With Tim and Damian, right? 

- That's it. Because of that, I have trouble trusting people. And even more so people I don't know. We don't know how people will react. And with my job it's complicated to get closer to people. There's a 50% chance they'll be malicious, or they'll try to hurt us. Finding really disinterested people in Gotham is difficult. 

- What does disinterested mean? 

Jason let out a little laugh. 

- Disinterested means they're not looking for something from you. To take advantage of you.

- And you think the neighbours aren't selfless, do you? 

- I don't know, princess. I just know that we should have stopped to asking them to keep it down. 

-You didn't seem happy last night. When we were talking about Dick. 

- Dick is my problem. He always had a knack for making me feel unwanted and stealing my spotlight. He's good at it. 

- And you're afraid he'll steal your spotlight with (Y/N)? 

Jason frowned but did not answer. He thought back to the night before, and could not put his finger on what he had made him so angry that he wanted to beat his brother up. 

- Dad told me that when you have a funny feeling in your stomach or in your heart but you're not sick, it means you like someone. Do you have this? 

- I don't think so, no. You really want me to get along well with the neighbours, don't you? 

Lian tried to hide her smile by hiding her face against Jason's arm. 

- Yes. I like (Y/N). Lily's nice too, but it's not the same. She's a little weird. She smiles a lot but her eyes remain a little cold. 

Jason thought back to the discussion he had heard in the hallway a few days earlier. 

- Maybe she was hurt and she doesn't want to look sad in front of people. Not everyone talks about what scares them or keeps them awake at night. 

- Like you and Dad? 

- Like your father and I do, yes. 

Lian was not completely satisfied with the answers provided by her uncle, but it was already a start. She hugged him one last time and then cleared out to let him finish getting ready. When he was ready, she took his hand and both returned to the main room. Roy was lying on the couch and watching TV. He greeted his daughter with a smile and looked at his best friend. 

- Ready to go, Jaybird? 

- Yep. Keep your fingers crossed so I don't fall on my family and pray that Gordon doesn't back off  of the deal. 

Roy raised his arm and crossed his fingers as Jason passed through the apartment window. 

For a moment Lian and Roy were content to watch television together in silence. Then Lian began to wiggle until he could no longer hold her in place. 

- What's the matter, princess? You're very agitated tonight..... 

- I'd like to go see Damian. Please, please, please, please, please!!!!

- Lian... I don't know if I can take you to see Damian. You know Uncle Jason.... 

- I know that. But he doesn't have to come with us. And Damian is my friend. Please, please, please, please, please!!!!

Roy sighed. He weighed the pros and cons and in the end, could not fight against his daughter's pleading gaze. 

He grabbed his phone with a sigh and searched Dick's phone number in his phone book before making the call. He was going to regret doing that, but it's not like he's putting her in danger. And if Jason had any objections, Roy would handle it. 

When Dick picked up, Roy explained the situation to him. Fortunately for Lian, Damian was not out that night and those who were on patrol would not be late, Bruce had asked everyone to be at the mansion early. 

After a few minutes of discussion, Dick confirmed to Roy that Lian was welcome to the mansion, and that the others would welcome him as well for the time of his visit. 

When the good news came, the little girl jumped up and ran into her room to get her coat. She put on her shoes and urged her father to hurry. 

They went down into the underground garage and settled into Roy's truck before taking the road and after about thirty minutes by car, they were in front of the entrance to Wayne's manor. 

Lian stepped out of the vehicle like a rocket, and climbed the steps that led to the entrance door four by four. She ranged, and Alfred came to open the door just as Roy was joining his daughter at the top of the stairs. 

- Good evening, Miss Harper. Mr. Harper. 

- Good evening, Alfred!  Is Damian there? 

The little girl seemed overexcited at the thought of seeing her friend, and proceeded to conjure one of the butler's rare smiles. Alfred, got out of the entrance and offered to let them in, then led them to the living room where Dick, Damian and Stephanie were already sitting. Tim and Barbara were not present, and Bruce was not visible in the room. 

Lian rushed to Damian who didn't have time to avoid the cannonball that was the little girl and found himself against his will trapped in a hug. He grumbled a few words about the lack of control and impropriety of such a display of affection in public before the girl released him. She turned to the others, said a general hello, then took Damian by the hand before dragging him to one of the side rooms, telling him that she wanted to talk to him about something top secret. 

Roy with a sigh approached Dick and Stephanie and greeted them. He sat in an armchair next to them and apologized for the inconvenience. 

- Don't worry about it, Roy. From what you told me, she wouldn't have been quiet until she saw Dami, right? 

Roy nodded. 

- Yeah. She has an idea in mind and I have a feeling it's about your brother. 

Dick was intrigued, and Stephanie got a little closer to the two young men. 

- Jason's out tonight, and when he was getting ready, I saw Lian go see him. I know her, and she knows that when we get ready, she's not supposed to be in the room. I don't want her to get used to seeing us armed. So I wanted to go get her, but she was talking to Jay. 

- And what were they discussing? 

Roy hesitated for a moment. 

- They were discussing last night and Jason's reaction. I feel like Lian thinks Jay has feelings for the neighbour and he doesn't want to say it. 

Dick started laughing, looking like he didn't believe it for a second, while Stephanie frowned and pushed the oldest Wayne to the side. 

- And she's right? 

- Honestly, Steph, I have no idea. I know he promised her to make an effort with the neighbours since she likes them but frankly..... He is strange at the moment, but to deduce that he has feelings for a girl he met just a few days ago.... 

- It's possible, isn't it? Look at stupid, laughing there. He has one crush a week. And Jason, despite everything he wants to say, he remains human. Human with feelings. And if he can feel anger, he may as well fell attraction and maybe even love. 

Dick stopped laughing for a moment and took time to catch his breath. 

- Steph' we're talking about Jason, he has as many love inclinations as Dami. 

- You'd be surprised, Dick. Our little Damian may be a demon but he is not indifferent to a certain person in our entourage. 

Dick looked at the stunned blonde. 

- No......... 

Roy let out a sigh. 

- Lian is convinced that she is right, and I think she will try to use her position with Jason to prove it. I just don't want her to alienate Jay, or be disappointed if she finds out she's wrong. 

A silence set for a moment. Dick always seemed shocked by Stephanie's insinuations, and Stephanie, her, seemed to be thinking. 

- You know Roy, there may be a solution to this problem. 

The redhead looked up at Stephanie, hoping with all his heart that it wasn't yet one of her delusional ideas that would end badly. 

- Go ahead and explain. At this point..... 

The young woman leaned over to her two accomplices to explain her plan. 

Meanwhile Lian had had time to explain to Damian what she suspected and couldn't get him to believe that she could be right. She showed him her notebook and explained to him what had happened, the reactions her uncle had had and the discussion that had taken place in Jason's room before he left that very evening. Damian was not convinced and he contradicted every one of Lian's arguments, and finally finished his argument by explaining that Todd was impossible to love, and that he had proved it many times in recent years. He was a difficult person that even Father could not contain. 

The little girl closed her notebook with a sad look on her face and jumped when her father shouted her first name to call her. 

- LIAN!!! UNCLE JAY IS HERE. WE'RE GOING HOME!!! 

When they arrived at the mansion, Roy had sent a text message to Jason to let him know they were leaving. He told him where they were and assured Jason that he didn't have to join them if he don’t wanted to. Apparently he had decided otherwise. He had greeted Alfred as usual. He may not have liked coming at the mansion, but he still loved Alfred, and no one would make him disrespect the butler who had always treated him with love. He passed through the living room where his friend Stephanie and Dick were, greeted the young woman and took care to ignore his brother who had approached him, then went in search of his niece to be able to leave the house as quickly as possible. 

When he arrived in one of the secondary living rooms, he found Damian sitting in an armchair reading a magazine. 

- Where's Lian, demon brat? 

- She's hiding behind the sofa.

- Hey!

Jason did find the little girl hiding behind the couch, who gave Damian a black look as soon as she came out of her hiding place. She then looked at her uncle, and smiled innocently. 

- Hey, Uncle Jay. Are you all right? 

Jason sighed and rolled his eyes. 

- It's time to go home Lian, your father and I need to talk and it would be better if we were at the apartment for that.

The little girl looked down and pouted. 

- All right. 

She turned to Damian and said goodbye, getting no answer from the boy. Then she took her uncle by the hand and both went to join Roy who was waiting for them at the front door with Dick and Stephanie. 

They exchanged a good evening, and Jason turned one last time to say good night to Alfred but stopped in full sentence when he saw Bruce at the back of the hall. He left the house and got on his motorcycle, waiting for the other two to get back into the truck. They all left, under the gaze of the blonde and the eldest of the Wayne's. 

- Your plan will get us into trouble, Steph. 

- No, It will not! And what are the risks? To see that Jason has risen from the dead with a heart of stone or, on the contrary, that he has human feelings and a crush? I see nothing but positive outcomes in this. 

- I can see that somehow it's going to end badly for us. 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Once everyone had returned to the apartment, things did not go as Roy had imagined. He thought Jason would wait until Lian went to wash up to start blaming him for bringing his niece to the mansion. He expected anger, disapproval, blame and criticism to be unending, not to mention the inevitable monologue about the constant faults of his family and more specifically Bruce and Dick, but none of this happened. 

If Roy was really honest, he knew he had escaped the storm Jason, only thanks to the phone call he received when they returned. He had seen his friends touch the side of his helmet as if to answer a call, as he was opening the way back to the apartment. 

Red Hood gave his friend an annoyed look but made no comments. Roy would do anything to make Lian happy, and he had trouble accepting that the girl or even her best friend could have a more or less normal relationships with his family. He readjusted his helmet, and headed for the window. 

- I have to go out again. I'll be back in a couple of hours. 

- Okay. 

Roy watched his friend come out and sighed. He felt that he had not heard the end of it. He went to his room and put Lian to bed. Once the little girl was settled in and ready to fall asleep, he kissed her on the forehead and returned to the living room closing the bedroom door behind him. He went to sit on the couch as usual since his daughter arrived, and pulled the blanket. He reached out to grab the remote control, and turned on the television. He skipped channels for a few minutes and then settled for a random show. 

He watched the program for a moment and then fell asleep, with the television still on. 

Roy was woken up several hours later by a loud fall sound in the living room. He woke up with a start and grabbed the knife that Jason always left under the couch seat. He jumped over the back of the sofa and found himself facing the intruder who was spread out on the floor of the main room. 

- Hey Roy... 

The redhead dropped his weapon and rushed to his friend who looked rather ill. The lower right part of his helmet was missing, and he was covered in blood. He helped Jason to get up and saw that his friend was keeping his left arm pressed against his stomach. He laid him down on the couch and removed what was left of the helmet before moving his arm to see the damage. 

Roy frowned when he noticed that the young man had received numerous blade cuts to his abdomen. Nothing deep, but enough to cause a big loss of blood, and an inability to use his lower limbs properly. 

- How did you manage to get back in this state? 

Jason didn't answer, he was in shock. Roy swore and noticed that his friend was having trouble breathing. He seized his phone and called Alfred immediately. The butler was taking note of what Roy was telling him and immediately sent Dick to the apartment to help his brother. He heard the bedroom door open and sent Lian back to bed before she could even see her uncle in such a bad state. The little girl immediately closed the door, but stayed behind to listen to what was happening. 

Roy put Alfred on speaker so that he could be guided by the butler until Dick arrived. Meanwhile Jason had passed out. 

- Okay, uh... he has several stab wounds to the abdomen, nothing perforating but deep enough to cause muscle damage. He has trouble breathing and given the amount of blood on his clothes, I would say he has lost quite a lot,  as far as I can see, and if it is his own blood, I would say he lost about 25%. His pulse is slightly slowed and his extremities are pale. 

Roy rushed to the kitchen to grab some clean cloths and applied them to the wounds. 

- It is possible that he may be suffering from a concussion. A part of his helmet is missing but he does not have any trace of a blow or shock of any kind. 

Roy didn't know what to say anymore, and despite the cold sweat running down his back, his voice was stable. Alfred, on the phone, gave him instructions to help stabilize Jason until his brother was there with the necessary equipment. After long minutes of waiting, Dick arrived and Roy opened the door for him. He didn't have his usual smile on his face, but was obviously in Nightwing mode, and took over to help Jason. Roy warned Alfred that Dick had arrived, and the butler hung up after announcing to the young man that he would inform the other family members of the situation. 

Dick cleaned, sutured and bandaged his brother's wounds, checked his blood pressure, as well as his blood oxygenation level before checking the reaction of his pupils with a small flashlight, then when he was finally satisfied, he asked Roy for help to take Jason to his room. 

They put him to bed and let him rest, leaving the bedroom door open to hear if his patient woke up. Once they returned to the main room, they took action to erase all traces of what had just happened. The blanket used by Roy and the cushion covers were stained with blood, so they ended up in a garbage bag ready to be destroyed, along with the rest of the strips of gauze and single-use medical instruments that Dick had used to sew his brother up. They moped and rearranged what was wrong when Jason came back in a hurry. Once everything was back to normal, Dick went into the kitchen and made two coffees. Roy took the opportunity to check on Lian. The little girl had fallen asleep by the door. Her face twisted in an expression shared between sadness and pain. He was trying so hard to protect her from what could happen at work. Obviously, he was failing. 

He put her back in the bed and tucked her in, kissing her again on the forehead before exiting the room. 

He joined Dick and welcomed the cup of fresh coffee that the young man handed him. 

- Is Lian asleep? 

- She tried to get out of the room when I was on the phone with Alfred. I sent her back to bed but she stayed by the door, I found her asleep against the wall.  

Dick sighed and looked down at his cup. 

- Lian is smart. She knows what happened tonight. But she remains a child, she wants to participate, and is naturally curious about what is happening, especially when you don't want her to be interested. 

- I know. I'm just afraid that she'll get hurt one day because I wouldn't have been careful enough, or worse that she'd decide to go down the same path as us. She already admires Damian as Robin. I don't want her to end the way we almost ended more than once.  

The eldest of the Wayne's nodded to mark his acknowledgement, and took a sip of coffee again as he looked towards the open door that led to his little brother's room. 

- Where was he tonight to end up like this? 

- I have no idea. He received a phone call when we were on our way back home. He left shortly after we got back. He didn't say where he was going, he just told me that he was going to be back two hours later. Nothing more than that. 

Dick growled. 

- He sometimes gets on my nerves making secrets out of everything. After all these years I thought he would finally…. 

He did not finish his sentence, his throat tied. Roy put his hand on Dick's shoulder and squeezed for a moment, to give him his support.

- Jason... Jason is complicated. Even for me and we're not related. He's not a bad person, we both know that, but he's very angry with Bruce, which is nothing new. 

- That... I think they're stuck in a vicious circle. They do everything to make the other person angry and wonder why nothing gets better. 

- Maybe we should lock them in a bunker and throw away the keys until they finally yell at each other for what they have to say. 

Dick let out a sad laugh. 

- I'm not sure it'll work. It would be more like a pugilate than a rational explanation if you ask me. 

The two men stayed together talking until late at night, then Dick decided it was time for him to go back home. He said goodbye Roy and asked him to keep him informed of his brother's condition before leaving. The redhead, after Dick left, looked at the couch and thought he didn't really want to sleep there tonight. He took one of the chairs from the dining table and dragged it into Jason's room. He sat down and after checking that his friend was still breathing, fell asleep in the same chair. 

When Jason emerged the next morning, he was surprised to find his niece glued against him in bed. Once the surprise was over, he looked around and realized that he was in his room. He didn't remember coming back to the apartment last night. He tried to move but a wave of pain irradiating from his middle prevented him from doing so. He then turned his head to find his best friend asleep in a chair next to his bed. Clenching his teeth to contain the pain, he moved his arm to shake Roy's knee and wake him up. The latter jumped and smiled timidly as he saw his wounded friend awake. He frowned as he saw a tuft of brown hair next to Jason. He rolled his eyes but said nothing. There was no point now in complaining.  He brought the chair closer to the bed. 

- How are you feeling, Jaybird? 

- Not so good. How did I get here? 

- You crashed in the living room, and you passed out. I had to call for help to stitch you up and bring you here. 

Jason nodded, suspecting that Roy had had to call his family for it. He lifted the blanket to try to see the extent of the damage. He shivered and suddenly turned to Roy with a very serious look.

- Roy...... I'm sorry to tell you this now, but..... Considering my wounds....I lost our baby.

Roy punched his friend in the shoulder, who was holding back from laughing because of the pain. 

- You're a jerk. 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Jason was closely watched all morning, and when he thought his friend had relaxed his vigilance, he was reprimanded by Lian as he tried to get out of bed. He found himself forced to lie down for most of the day, and was not allowed to use his phone. Lian, on the other hand, kept him company. 

Roy had texted Dick to warn him that Jason was awake and that he looked about fine, despite natural fatigue after significant blood loss and injuries such as those he had suffered. 

By early afternoon he had received a call from Stephanie, reminding him of her plan from the previous evening, and letting him know on several occasions that the current situation was very suitable for the execution of the plan in question. The already tired redhead didn't want to think about the blonde's crazy plan but she seemed very enthusiastic about confirming her suspicions and didn't let go of Roy until he promised at least to try. 

Roy took care of his bedridden friend and daughter until the evening. He received another phone call and came out of the room to answer. When he came back, he looked bored. 

Jason looked up from the comic book he was reading with Lian and stared at his roommate. 

- Something wrong, Roy? 

- Yeah. I have to get out. It wasn't planned and I can't leave you two alone. And neither Dick nor Stephanie are available immediately. 

- And? I can keep Lian. Anyway, I can't move much right now. 

Roy raised an eyebrow. 

- Precisely.  You think you can take care of Lian alone tonight? You can't even move from one room to another by yourself. 

- And what do you recommend then? 

The little girl's father played with his cell phone for a moment, and grinned. 

- I don't want any protest, I don't have a choice under the circumstances so... 

- I swear to you, if you call Bruce... 

- I'm not going to call Bruce, but I'm going to go next door for help. 

- What do you mean by next door? 

Suddenly, the meaning of what Roy had just said struck Jason. He became paler than he already was and shook his head. 

- No. No. 

- Yes. And you'll be kind and a patient... patient, I suppose. 

- Roy... 

- No protest, I have no choice, and I'm not giving you a choice either. Now get ready, I'll help you go to the main room, we'll put you on the couch. 

Despite the injured man's protests and threats, Roy helped his friend get out of bed and into the next room. He sat him down on the couch and brought him a blanket and a t-shirt, Dick having only put on him a jog the night before. Lian had not understood at first sight why her uncle was so reluctant, but once he had started threatening her father, she had figured out where they were going with. From that moment on, she became a real energy ball again and ran around to make sure everything was perfect in the apartment. 

Roy left Jason and his daughter for a moment to ring the bell at the neighbours' house. It was Lily who opened the door for him, she was putting on her coat when Roy rang the bell, and she apologized for greeting him like that. When Roy explained the situation to her, avoiding to mention that Jason was injured because of his Red hood activity but arguing that he had had a bad fall and needed to be watched, the young woman looked sorry. She told him that she was about to leave for several days to visit her family, and that it was better for him to contact (Y/N). She let him into their house, closed the door, and then went to get her friend, who was in the bathroom. 

(Y/N) smiled when she saw Roy, she asked him for a little more details about what was going on, Lily having vaguely explained the situation to her when she had come to fetch her. 

Roy told his story again and finally asked her if she would take care of her friend for the evening, and at the same time watch his daughter. He had no choice, and had to go to a last-minute appointment and did not want to leave his injured friend alone. His daughter did not have the physical strength to help him if he fell and he did not want to leave her alone.  (Y/N) agreed and assured him that she would not mind after Roy asked her to forgive him for making such a request. 

The redhead came home a few minutes later and told Jason and Lian that their neighbour would be here within the hour, and that he would leave after she arrived. He then went to get ready, tonight he wouldn't be Arsenal, but he would still take some precautions. He put on civilian clothes, and took his eternal cap with him. When the hour was almost up, he came out of his room and returned to the living room. 

- I hope you'll behave yourself tonight. 

- Harper, if I could get off this couch without fear of my organs falling to the ground, I'd kick your ass. 

- Jason, language, we have sensitive ears in the room. 

Lian manifested herself by going to see her father, hugging him by the waist and sticking out his tongue at her uncle. 

- Yes, Uncle Jason, think about me, you must be a good example. 

- Just wait, you little ...

The little girl laughed and joined her uncle on the couch. The doorbell of the apartment rang at that moment and Roy went to open to  (Y/N) who was then invited to come in. 

- Thank you again for agreeing to help me. I don't know how I would have done it if you hadn't agreed to that. Things haven't gone the way I expected tonight. 

- No problem really, I don’t mind at all. Lily went to see her family, I find myself alone, so spending the evening with Lian and the homestuck patient doesn't bother me, quite the contrary. 

She smiled joyfully at him, and waved back at Lian, who was still on the couch by her uncle. Roy and (Y/N) exchanged a few more words before he left, leaving the young woman alone with her daughter and friend.

The redhead went down the stairs four by four and answered his phone that started ringing as we entered the lobby. He had not yet left the building, but the people he was supposed to meet were already getting impatient. He told his interlocutor that he would be there in a few minutes and hung up. He found himself in the street, and turned right to go to a dinner a few blocks away. He entered the restaurant and walked towards the back, spotting from afar the silhouettes of his friends waiting for him. 

- So? 

- So honestly, to start with, I'll get something to eat, I'm hungry. 

At the apartment, things had started badly, Jason closing up like an oyster until he needed help to get to the bathroom. This was without counting on, the optimistic and selfless nature of (Y/N) which helped him to move without him feeling uncomfortable or diminished. She even waited for him outside the bathroom door so he wouldn't have to call her again to get back to the couch. 

As Lian was too young to cook alone, (Y/N) suggested that they cook together under Jason's direction who could more or less supervise what they were doing from the couch. His view was partially impaired because of the bar that separated the kitchen from the rest of the room, but it was enough for him to follow the progress of things. That's how they ended up all on the couch, Jason stuck between Lian and (Y/N) enjoying chicken with butternut. Lian was enjoying herself, and the injured man had to admit that the young woman was a good cook, and he finally decided to enjoy the evening. 

When Roy returned several hours later, the night was already well advanced. For his part, the evening had been rather pleasant and he did not regret going out in the end. He turned the key in the front door and was surprised to hear only the sounds from the television.

He put his keys on the kitchen bar and grabbed his phone. 

Lian rolled in a ball against her uncle, Jason slumped against (Y/N) whose head rested on the injured man's shoulder, all sleeping soundly, it was well worth a picture. 

He rolled his eyes with a smile and sent the picture by text message. He put his phone in his back jeans pocket and started to wake everyone up. 

Dick and Stephanie had stayed at the dinner table where they spent their evening with Roy. They were in the middle of a discussion when Stephanie received a text message from the redhead. She shouted with joy and shoved her phone at Dick, her arm outstretched. 

- Look! Look!!!!! They're so cute when they're asleep.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

When Jason woke up the next morning he decided to stay in bed for a while. He thought about the evening before, which looked more and more like an ambush orchestrated by Roy, the more he thought about it. 

He wanted to confront his friend about it but he didn't want to relive the mini-horror he had experienced when Roy came home. Yes, they had all fallen asleep on the couch, yes he had slightly slipped against (Y/N) in his sleep, yes the young woman had fallen asleep against him, so what? It wasn't worth the mocking looks Roy gave him last night when he helped him get back to his room after their neighbour left. 

He grunted and tried to get up, clenching his teeth under the wave of the pain. Roy had warned him that Dick would come in the morning to take a look at his injuries and change his bandages. He wasn't particularly happy with the idea, but he didn't have much choice. 

As it was impossible for him to move properly for a few more days, he was trapped inside. So Roy would wait until Dick got here to go out with his daughter. Lian and her father needed to spend time together and Jason couldn't stop them from enjoying the little time they had together because he had been reckless and became incapacitated. 

He could hear them in the main room having breakfast. He was mixed between the desire to join them, even if it meant suffering in the process, and staying in his bed. After a moment of reflection, he decided to join them. 

Roy and Lian were sitting at the dining table when Jason appeared in the frame of the door leading to his room. Roy got up and went to help his friend join them. He prepared a tea cup for him, put it in front of him and then went back to his chair. 

- Slept well, Jay? 

- Hm.... 

Jason didn't answer and looked down at his cup of tea. He was playing last night over and over again in his head and had trouble keeping a smile off his face. Lian had been particularly happy last night. The little girl was naturally cheerful, but yesterday, she seemed to have reached a peak of happiness. And he had to admit that despite all his prejudices, (Y/N) was pretty good company.

He was drawn from his thoughts by Roy and his daughter's conversation. They were discussing their program for the day. Jason envied them a little. He was certainly not ready to have children, but he had to admit that he missed the afternoons spent with his family from time to time. 

After breakfast, Roy helped Jason get on the couch and he and his daughter prepared to leave. Lian was finishing putting on her dress when the apartment bell rang. 

She rushed to the door and opened it to Dick who had a big smile on his face. 

- Hello Dick!!! 

- Hi Lian! How are you doing? I'm here to watch your uncle. 

Jason groaned from the couch and rolled his eyes. The little girl let the eldest of the Wayne family into the apartment and went to fetch her father. Dick approached the couch and put down the sports bag containing everything he needed to take care of his brother. 

- Hey Jaybird. How are you feeling? 

- Dick. 

Jason did not answer his brother's question, and Dick chose not to be bothered. He sat down next to his little brother and pinched his lips.  

- Just for the record... Alfred warned everyone that you were hurt. And so... I have to report to them on your condition. Bruce... 

- Dick, I know you're here because Roy called you and I don't have a choice in the matter. Don't try to play on feelings, especially not using Bruce you know how it's going to end. 

The two young men remained silent until Roy and Lian came out of the room and left. Once they were completely alone, Dick checked his brother's injuries and replaced the bandages. 

- Your wounds are clean, no sign of infection. Are you tired right now? 

- A little. 

- It's the loss of blood. You're going to need to rest a while longer before you can resume your activities. That's wiser. 

Jason was going to open his mouth to protest, but his brother stopped him. 

- No. No buts. You have lost a lot of blood, I have seen you lying on this couch, bathing in your blood, you need to rest until you can be fully recovered. If you ever faint during a mission you may not come home at all... And I'm not sure I can handle a second funeral for Jason Todd. 

Jason's elusive look gave Dick the assurance that his brother would not protest any more today about his injuries. Dick took his place on the couch next to his brother. 

- Roy told me you played nanny last night? 

- Yeah, he had something to do and left me with Lian to watch.

- I'm surprised he left you alone with his daughter when you're not really in a position to move alone right now. 

- I had my own babysitter since none of you were available. Apparently I'm not supposed to be left unsupervised. 

Jason's statement made Dick laugh. 

- Yes, sorry about that. I was on patrol last night and the girls had their own plans. I figured you might not want to have Tim or Damian in your path, so... But who was the babysitter? 

- (Y/N), the neighbour.

- Ooooh yes. She's nice, and pretty, I  like her. 

- Thank you for not seducing my neighbour. I see you enough as it is. You don't have to become a frequent visitor to this building to that. 

To Jason's surprise, his brother's visit was not completely unpleasant. Apparently today was the day of surprises. After realizing that (Y/N) was not bad company, that he might miss his family despite the efforts he was making to hate them and the fact that for the moment he had not yet wanted to strangle his brother, he surprised himself by hoping that it was the neighbour who had just rang the doorbell.

Dick got up and went to open up, and Jason's heart started beating a little faster when (Y/N) appeared. She came in with a plate of cookies in her hand and a blossoming smile on her lips. 

- Hi, I understand Jason was alone today and since he's sick I thought I could keep him company. I mean, if my presence doesn't bother you. 

Dick let her in and noticed that Jason, although keeping a neutral look, looked a little more relaxed when he saw the neighbour. She went to greet the wounded man and sat next to him, handing him the plate of cookies for him to take one. Jason took one with a little reluctance for form, then she stretched her arm, the one holding the plate, towards Dick who joined them on the couch. 

They talked for a while about everything and nothing, until Dick suddenly decided he had to leave. He said goodbye to (Y/N) and his brother and left them alone. As soon as he got out, he grabbed his phone and texted Stephanie. He would have love to be able to be in two places at the same time in order to see the reaction of the blonde. 

After Dick left, Jason had only one strange fear: that (Y/N) would decide to go home. Fortunately for him, his neighbour didn't seem to want to leave. She sat next to him, with a cookie in her hand, talking. 

- And so as Lily left for her family, I thought I would trump my solitude by keeping you company. That's a little selfish, sorry. 

- No. It's nice of you to come and keep me company. Most people I know wouldn't have lifted a finger to even check up on me. You come with cookies. That's fine with me. 

(Y/N) smiled gently, and cleared her throat. 

- Your brother seemed happy to keep you company, though. 

- It's... complicated. My family is complicated. We don't get along very well. 

The young woman put her hand on Jason's forearm to give him her support. 

- Family relationships are not necessarily easy. But as they say, you don't choose your family but you can always choose your friends. And if you need company in the coming days, until you get back on your feet, I'm here. And even after that. 

(Y/N) smiled at him, gently squeezed the hand she had put on Jason's arm. He could not help but feel a heat ball forming in his chest and had to control himself for a moment not to take (Y/N)'s hand. 

- Thank you. I wouldn't want to interfere with your job search either... since last night you told me that since you moved to Gotham... 

- Um... it's okay, don't worry. My options are limited here anyway. I had started my job search before coming here but I didn't get any answers. I'm considering taking a job as a waitress nearby. I saw that The Question Mark was recruiting. Maybe I'll apply. 

- But why exactly did you come to Gotham to settle down? 

- I followed Lily. She had a very bad experience a few months ago and she had to change her life completely. Alone, she wouldn't have been able to leave, so I left with her. 

The young woman sighed and looked sad for a fraction of a second. The emotion did not escape Jason who this time did not fight against his reflex and grabbed (Y/N)'s hand.

- It's not going as you planned, is it? 

- No. No, it's not going as planned. Lily left yesterday to visit her family and I think she's going to stay there. 

They did not have time to dwell on the subject since Roy and his daughter returned from their day out. The little girl was holding the promotional bag that one of the Gotham museums was offering to its visitors and shouted with joy when she saw the cookies placed on the sofa next to her uncle. (Y/N) laughed and turned to the little girl, receiving a hug between two cookies. Jason looked at Roy who seemed to be at the end of his life. 

- I'd kill for a coffee... literally.

(Y/N) got up from the couch followed by Jason's eyes and headed for the kitchen. 

- You know what? I'll tell you what. I'll take care of it. Coffee for Roy, tea for Jason, and for Lian I'd say... orange juice.

Lian gave her a radiant smile, while Roy thanked (Y/N) for the help. He slumped down next to his friend while the young woman was busy in the kitchen. 

- I see Dick left earlier than expected. 

- Shut up, Roy. 

[lopithecusfanfiction]

A Life So Changed: Chapter Sixty-Three

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2528 Alternate: AO3, fanfiction.net Author's Note: Thank you all for being patient with me when it comes to updating this. Remember, updates will come once a month (i.e. this is August’s update. The next one won’t be until sometime in September.) Enjoy!

Bruce doesn’t sleep that night. He lies there, awake in bed, one hand on his stomach and the other clutching Clark’s lightly. Clark is pressed against his back, heat radiating off the man. The Kryptonian doesn’t sleep either but neither of them talk. They stay muted for the whole night with Clark holding him as if he can protect him from Bruce’s own body.

When the first sign of light starts shining through from between the curtains, they both begin stirring. Bruce stretches out some, achy muscles having been in one spot for too long. Clark watches him, frown on his face, and still says nothing. Bruce turns to face him.

“We need to talk about this,” he finally says in the quiet of the room. His voice sounds too loud. He can feel a dull ache starting in his head.

He sees Clark swallow. “I know.”

Bruce sits up a little, propping a pillow under him. Clark’s hand comes to rest on his baby bump. “We need to figure out a way to save Lara.”

“And you,” Clark mumbles, hand rubbing small circles.

Bruce frowns. He’ll have to address that late in the conversation but for right now, their kids, including Lara, are top priority. “Maybe you can try looking for something in the Fortress. Something to make childbirth easier on her.”

“You know,” Clark starts, resting his head on his arm. “I was thinking, once you are far enough along in the pregnancy, maybe we could have labor induced. That way you’ll be rid of the Kryptonian genes sooner.”

“Clark, that won’t help.” The alpha frowns. “It’s the strain of childbirth that is going to kill us because we both are too weak. Having Lara early isn’t going to change that.”

Clark sits up. “But if you have her early, then you will be less weak than you would be if you had her at full term.”

“Clark, no!” Bruce protests. “I’m not having her early. I’m not making that decision. If I can, I won’t to carry her for the full term of pregnancy.”

“But-”

“Clark, I said no!” Clark is still frowning and the alpha looks away. “Okay,” he says softly, voice sounding defeated. “What about a cesarean section?”

“A C section?” Bruce asks, confused. “Why?”

Clark finally meets his eyes. “You wouldn’t have to go through the strain of childbirth. They would just… take Lara out, sow you back up, and be done with it. No more Kryptonian attacking your body and no more rejection from your body. Simple as that.” The alpha shrugs. “Plus, it’s not like you don’t have scars now. What’s one more?”

Bruce thinks about. It might just work, as long as he is strong enough to survive the surgery. “We’ll see. I’ll ask Leslie about it.” Clark nods, looking down at the bed again. “There’s another thing we need to do.” Clark’s eyes flit up to him before they descend back to the bed. “You need tell Kara and Conner. Obviously Conner and Tim aren’t planning on having kids any time soon but I don’t know about Kara and Barbara. Kara especially, Clark. She’s full Kryptonian. Where Conner has a fifty fifty chance of spreading those genes, Kara’s is guaranteed. We can’t let either of them make that mistake.”

Clark’s eyes are glassy with unshed tears. “Is Lara a mistake?”

“What?”

“Do you regret it?” Clark looks up at him. “Do you regret getting pregnant now?”

“No, of course, not,” Bruce answers immediately. “I would never regret getting pregnant with her, Clark.” Bruce swallows. “Do you regret it?”

Clark shakes his head in the negative. “No. Never. I just… I don’t want it to be like this.” The alpha reaches a hand up and wipes his eyes. “We’ve fought so hard to get to where we are, with you and me being in a good place, my parents finally starting to accept you, and my relationship with Lois is starting to mend as well and yet, here we are, still having to fight.”

“I suppose it’s like crime fighting,” Bruce comments.

“But it’s not supposed to be!” Clark snaps then looks immediately guilty. “Having a baby and a family, Bruce, isn’t supposed to be this hard, this… this tragic.”

“Well, you cheated and I let it happen, that was the first sign that this wasn’t going to be easy, Clark.” Bruce takes Clark’s hand. “But fighting our way here was worth it and we’ll fight through this too. We’re Superman and Batman. We don’t give up on the people we love.”

Clark nods and then rubs at his face, groaning. “How am I supposed to tell Kara and Conner? They’re going to be devastated.”

Bruce frowns. “I don’t know.”

“And what about Barbara and Tim?” Clark asks him.

“I’m going to tell them myself. I don’t want the other kids or Alfred to know yet.” His chest tightens and a lump forms in his throat. “I can’t tell them that me and their sister is-” he chokes off and tears roll down his face as he closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath. “I’m not ready to tell them.”

Clark is squeezing his hand and when Bruce opens his eyes, the Kryptonian is crying as well. “But you have to tell Barbara and Tim because you know Kara and Conner aren’t going to keep it from them.”

Bruce nods. “Yeah, I know.” He sniffles. “They can adopt you know. Tim especially, of all people, know that there’s nothing wrong with that, that you love them just as much as if they were biologically yours. I think he’ll be okay with that. He’ll be sad and disappointed because there’s something special about having a child with the one you love but he’ll love a child that he adopts just as much. Barbara though… she sees my family and she’s a part of it, but she has her own father so she was never my child so she does have a direct part in seeing how adoption is just as good.”

“Same with Kara and Conner,” Clark whispers. “I don’t even know how I’m going to word it. ‘Hey, by the way, you can never have biological kids because you’ll kill your mate but don’t worry, you could always adopt.’ Yeah, that sounds great.”

Bruce is chuckling. He can’t help it. “Don’t make fun of adoption.”

Clark chuckles too, small smile gracing his face. “Sorry.”

It doesn’t take long for the air around them to turn somber once more. “Bruce?” Bruce hums to let Clark know he’s listening. “What if Lois and I had been successful in getting her pregnant?”

“Clark…”

The tears are back in Clark’s eyes. “We were trying, remember?” They roll down the alpha’s cheeks. “She would have died, Bruce. What if you two were pregnant at the same time? I would have killed her too.”

“Clark, don’t… don’t do that to yourself. Don’t think of what ifs.” He reaches up and wipes the tears off the Kryptonian’s face. “That didn’t happen.”

“But you’re still dying… and Lara is still dying.” He sniffles. “And that’s on me.”

“Clark…”

Clark gets up off the bed, wiping his face furiously. “I should go and tell Kara and Conner. Rip is off like a bandaid, right?”

Bruce nods and watches Clark walk away and into the bathroom.

*~~~*

He and Tim are down in the cave, waiting for Barbara to show up. The air is thick with tension and Bruce knows that doesn’t go over Tim’s head. Finally, the omega confronts him. “What’s going on, Bruce? You’ve been sitting there stiffly for the past ten minutes.” Bruce doesn’t answer him. “Something is wrong, isn’t it?” Still Bruce says nothing. “It has something to do with Lara, right? Something is wrong with her?” Bruce looks at his son and Tim’s breath hitches. “Oh God, Bruce you’re scaring me. What’s wrong with her? What’s happening?”

“I would like to know the same thing.” They both turn to see Barbara walking down the stairs leading into the cave. “To call me out here all of sudden. It’s unusual.” She walks up to Bruce and hugs him in greeting and then hugs Tim. “It’s good to see you two but I am definitely curious as to why this a meeting only between you, Tim, and I and why Clark is meeting with Kara and Conner.”

“He’s what?” Tim asks, looking surprised. He turns to Bruce. “Now I’m really scared.”

Bruce takes a deep, calming breath before he starts. “I think you two need to sit down.”

Both Barbara and Tim glance at each other before sitting down in a couple of seats. “What’s going on, Bruce?” Barbara asks.

Bruce swallows. “Tim knows better than you Barbara of how difficult this pregnancy has been for me… physically I mean. I’ve been very sick and have been having really headaches and random pains. Last night was the worst it had ever been. Clark and I went to see the Kents in Smallville and my head started to sudden hurt really bad, I think almost passed out or I did, I don’t recall but Clark brought me to Leslie.” Barbara is watching him stoically, eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration, while Tim’s are furrowed in concern. Bruce swallows again. “She did some blood work and found something out.”

“Is it cancer?” Tim asks. His eyes are wide, scared, and Bruce wants to comfort him.

He stays where he is. “No.” He sees Tim gulp. “Leslie found out that…” Bruce licks his lips. The two kids are on the edge of their seats. “I’m dying.” They stay silent. “And so is Lara. The baby,” Bruce clarifies, knowing Barbara hadn’t been told what the baby’s name is yet.

The two are stunned in silence, staring at him with disbelief. “Why?” Barbara asks, breaking the silence. Tim’s eyes migrate to the stone floor.

“It’s the Kryptonian side of Lara. My body is rejecting here because it sees the those genes as something foreign and so wants to expel it. However, Kryptonian genes under a yellow sun are a lot more powerful than human genes, as we all know, and so Lara’s body is fighting back which is what is killing me.” Bruce looks from one to the other. “I’m telling you both this, and Clark is telling the same to Kara and Conner, because you two are both dating Kryptonians.”

“Which means… we can’t have children with them,” Barbara fills in the blank. “It’s funny, Kara and I were just talking about the future and when we wanted to start trying for a baby.” She shrugs, still obviously in shock. “Seeing you, Bruce, is actually what spurred that conversation on.”

“Kon is only half Kryptonian.” Tim’s eyes dart up to his. “That means he could pass on human genes. We could still have kids together.”

“Tim, I know you’re much smarter than that,” Bruce says. “Do you really want to take that chance?” Tim slumps in his seat and looks back down at the floor.

“What about you?” Barbara begins. “What’s going to happen to you? And the baby?”

Bruce hesitates, not wanting to lead onto the two that there probably is no saving himself. “Clark and I are going to handle it. You two don’t need to worry about it.”

“But we will anyway,” Tim says quietly.

Bruce sighs. “I know. Listen, I don’t want anyone else to know yet, okay? That means you can’t tell Dick, Jason, Damian, or Alfred. Please, I can get your word you won’t tell anyone?”

They both nod. “Of course, Bruce,” Barbara says. She sounds calmer now, put together. Bruce knows it’s an act. She’s trying to be strong, a bigger person.

Tim is still sitting silently in his chair. “If…” he starts hesitantly. “If there is anything I can do to help you two find a way to stop this from happening, please let me know. I’m smart. I’m sure I’ll be useful.”

Bruce won’t drag his son into this. “Thank you, Tim. I’ll keep that in mind.” He stands. “You two better get going. I’m sure Kara and Conner will need you right now.” He walks away then, knowing the two are going to discuss this matter between each other before leaving to their respectful mates.

*~~~*

At dinner, they all are sat around the table. Bruce hasn’t heard from Clark yet and he isn’t sure if Tim has gone to talk to Conner yet. Barbara is gone so she is probably with Kara but Tim is sat across from him. The table is bustling with conversation, something him and Tim stay out of. Bruce’s head is killing him.

Jason is in the middle of a story about taking out a drug deal when Bruce sees Clark fly down outside the window. He stands. “Excuse me.” He goes and leaves the Manor, meeting Clark out back. “Clark!” He hugs the alpha and Clark hold him tightly. When they pull away, Bruce asks, “Where have you been? I was getting worried.”

“I’ve been just flying around. Trying to clear my head.”

“How did Kara and Conner take it?” Bruce asks him, leading Clark to a bench in the garden a little ways from the Manor.

Clark shakes his head. “Not well. Kara started crying and Conner is in denial because he is only half Kryptonian. He’s convinced that he still has a shot at having a biological child with Tim someday.”

Bruce nods. “Yeah, Tim entertained that idea for a few seconds too.”

“How did they take it?” Clark asks him.

Bruce purses his lips, remembering their conversation. “They’re rational people. They probably took it better than Kara and Conner. They understand, I think they accept it, but you know they also hide their feelings, something they learned from me, so I’m sure they are really hurting inside right now.”

“And how did they take the news about you and Lara dying?”

“They were shocked, I think Tim still is, but they won’t tell anyone. Tim offered up his services but…”

“But you don’t want him to help,” Clark finishes for him. “You don’t want him to get involved for fear of getting hurt.”

Bruce nods. “Yeah.”

Silence falls upon them, the crickets chirping in the distance. They hear the click of the back door and soon Tim is in their sights. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you two were out here.”

“What are you doing?” Bruce asks.

“I… I didn’t want to be in there anymore.” Tim sits down on the grass. “I couldn’t keep pretending everything is okay.” Bruce frowns. “I just need a few days to get used to what is happening. I’ll be able to hide it, I promise, Bruce. I won’t tell anyone I just… can’t right now, with them all being there, not knowing what is happening.”

“It’s okay, Tim.” Bruce tries to give the omega a reassuring smile. “I get it.”

Tim is running his hand through the grass. He doesn’t say anything and neither do Clark and Bruce. They sit there for hours, feeling the cool night air in their hair and watching the stars with sorrow.

A/N: Thanks for reading!

[camsthisky]

Determined Ghosts

Part 1 | Part 2

ao3 | ff.net

Summary: A gala, supposed to be spent by eating cakes and wearing a pretty dress, goes wrong. But honestly? What doesn't in Steph's life? Still, they better figure this out before it's more than just Dick that's hurt.

Stephanie’s eating one of those tiny little cakes that absolutely is not enough in any way whatsoever when Tim walks into her line of sight, head craning this way and that over the crowd of people Bruce has invited into his home for yet another gala-party-thingamajig. And—dear god, the boy is short. He’s on his tip toes.

“Timmy, dearest,” Steph says, only a little bit mockingly, and Tim’s gaze snaps to hers, eyes wide and owlish, like he hadn’t even seen her standing next to the dessert table. Which. That’s not that worrying, considering that Tim works on like, less than two hours of sleep a night.

Maybe Steph can get Cass to arm wrestle Tim into going to sleep instead of patrol tonight. And she can casually suggest a movie night to Dick. Dick will jump on anything that involves family bonding time, and Tim’ll be out cold in no time.

“Steph?” he asks, and now he’s giving her a weird look, like he hadn’t even known she was here at the gala-party-thingamajig. Again, very possible. For a person who’s supposed to be one of the best detectives, Tim can miss the most obvious things. He blinks a couple times, seems to accept that she’s not some sleep deprived hallucination, and walks over to her. “Did you need something?”

“No,” Steph says, shoving the rest of the tiny—tiny. Steph is going to have words with Alfred later—cake into her mouth. She swallows and raises an eyebrow. “Did you need something?”

Tim shrugs, head swiveling to look out over the crowd again. “I’m looking for Dick.”

“He was over by Damian earlier,” Steph says. “I think the brat brought his sword, and Bruce refused to deal with it. By default, it was Dick’s problem.”

“No, I know that,” Tim says distractedly. “I was standing right there when Damian started swearing at Dick. It was hilarious.”

“Yeah, you sound like it really changed your world,” Steph snorts.

Tim wrinkles his nose. “That was almost an hour ago, Steph.”

“Mhmm,” Steph says, debating whether it’d be a good idea to stuff the brand new purse that Bruce had gotten her the other day with the entire plate of mini-cakes and how much she’d get yelled at if she was caught. “And?”

“I saw him after that, though,” Tim tells her, following her gaze. He rolls her eyes when he catches on to what she’s planning on doing. “You know you can literally have Alfred make you bigger portions later, right?”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Timmy,” Steph says sweetly.

“It is not.”

“Is, too,” and then Steph finally makes her decision and starts grabbing a few of everything. Because if she’s going to stuff her purse, then she’s going to go all the way. Maybe Cass would be willing to share with her later. If not Cass, then definitely Dick. Speaking of, “Why are you looking for Dick, anyways?”

Tim blows out a heavy breath and sort of deflates, and it has enough umph to it that Steph stops raiding the dessert table to stare at him.

“Um,” she says.

Tim runs a hand down his face. “Sorry. It’s just—He went to go grab something from his room. Said it was important and just left.”

“And?” Steph prompts. “What’s so bad about that?”

“It’s been almost a half hour since I’ve seen him, Steph. And I’ve been around the room twice,” Tim tells her, and he leans back against a nearby pillar. He looks exhausted—well. More exhausted than usual, and Steph has half a mind to find Dick herself and tell him to tell Tim to stop worrying. And when he talks again, his voice is small. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Of course, it just so happens that that’s when the lights go out.

Steph drops her dessert-filled purse and grabs Tim’s hand, pulling him close. People start murmuring and muttering, and Steph has a feeling that Bruce’s gala-party-thingamajig has gone south real fast.

“Should we grab our uniforms?” she wonders, her voice soft enough that she’s sure only Tim hears her.

“No,” Tim says. “We don’t know if this is an attack or—”

The lights flicker. On, off. Someone screams bloody murder, and people start running for the exit as quick as they can. Someone shoulder checks Steph and she stumbles, but Tim tightens his hold on her hand and pulls her upright.

She whirls on him a second later, raising an eyebrow and shouting in order to be heard over the cacophony of panic, “You were saying?!”

“We still don’t—” He stumbles forward as someone bumps into him, too, but he stays on his feet. Pity. It’d have been funny to see him faceplant. Probably not the best time, though. He pulls her closer. “We still don’t know what’s going on!”

“Bruce?”

Tim nods. “Bruce.”

Somehow—holy shit, somehow—they make it through the throng of panicked people crowding the exits to the back of the room and over to where they can see Bruce standing with Damian, Cass, and the Commissioner. By the time they make it to them, most everyone is gone, and the lights are back to normal.

Dick’s nowhere to be found, though, and Tim and Steph share a look.

Bruce is staring at them. Steph knows that there’s no way he didn’t catch that, but he doesn’t comment on it. Yet, at least. Maybe it’s because the Commissioner is still standing there, or maybe it’s because they’ve got bigger things to worry about.

“Are you two alright?” he asks instead.

Tim nods and finally lets go of Steph’s hand, and she shakes it out, flexing it a few times, too. She hadn’t realized how hard Tim had been gripping it until he’d stopped, and she shoots him a concerned look he only grimaces at.

When she realizes that Bruce is still looking at her, waiting for her answer, she makes a face. “I’m fine, you big worrywart. Tim saved me from landing on my face, and I was disappointed by not seeing Tim land on his.”

“Hey!”

“I regret that it did not happen, as well,” Damian says, and he sounds seriously sad about it. Sheesh. Steph had forgotten that the brat had it out for Tim.

“Come at me and you’ll regret it,” Tim says, not a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Like you could take me down,” Damian scoffs.

Tim tenses, but backs off when Bruce clears his throat purposely, his eyes flashing dangerously. It’s so unsubtle and—God, after years, Steph still can’t believe Bruce Wayne can act like he does in public when all he seems to be is a big pile of brood and dad. She can see where Tim gets it from, at least. The brooding and acting part, not the dad part.

Next to Bruce, Jim Gordon sighs. “I’m going to see if I can round up a few of my men, Bruce,” he says. His rake over all of them, before they meet Bruce’s again. “I’ll be back soon, but it’s better that all of you stay together. Just in case.”

Bruce smiles, and Steph wonders if it’s painful for him. It certainly looks painful. “Thank you, Jim.”

And with that, the Commissioner’s gone, Bruce drops the smile, and it’s just the five of them standing there. Nobody says anything for a few seconds, and so Steph steps up. It’s like, her thing by now. She could probably major in it if she wanted to. She’s surrounded by so many emotionally stunted idiots that she’s got enough practical experience, after all.

Except Cass. Cass is great.

“So?” Steph says, folding her arms over her chest and raises her eyebrows. “Whatever’s happening, it better be good. I lost my dessert purse for this.”

Cass giggles, and Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. Tim doesn’t react much, but Damian scowls at her in confusion. It’s great. So many different reactions in so few words. She should get an award.

“I don’t want to know,” Bruce tells her. “Did anyone see anything?”

“Dick disappeared,” Tim says.

Steph elbows Tim. “You don’t know that. All you said was that Dick left to get something from his room. And technically that’s not seeing anything.”

“It’s the lack of seeing something,” Tim argues.

“Grayson is probably playing a prank,” Damian says, a somewhat adorable scowl on his face and—good god, does this child not know how to smile? Did he inherit Bruce’s gene of feeling pain while smiling? Someone needs to teach Damian how to have fun, and soon.

Cass frowns. “I don’t think so.”

Well, Cass’s word is law, after all. At least, it is to Steph. It’s a rare occasion that Cass has been wrong—though, it has happened before, Steph’s sure. She just can’t remember—and Steph doesn’t think now is one of those times.

Damian’s scowl inches closer and closer to a worried frown. “Then where is he?”

“Kidnapped?” Tim suggests weakly.

Steph grimaces. Dick’s a slippery one, especially when it comes to kidnapping. He’s got acrobatic skills he can use in self-defense, curtesy of his circus roots, and it’s an advantage that none of the other kids really have.

Something shatters upstairs, and the five of them freeze. And then, before Steph realizes it, Tim’s darting for the stairs, the rest of them just a beat behind him. They stop at the top of the stairs, and Steph gapes at what she sees.

“I think that I’m going to be sick,” she says, staring in horror at the giant puddle of blood soaking into the carpet. “Like, someone find me a toilet to throw up in, kind of sick.”

“You’re not,” Cass tells her, and Steph sighs.

“I’m not,” she agrees, but she can’t take her eyes off of the puddle. “But that is still disturbing. I sleep here, Tim.”

“Yeah, but you don’t live here,” Tim says, and Steph manages to take her eyes away from the scene in front of her to glance at him. He looks pale, and he’s got that look in his eyes, where his thoughts are racing a mile minute. It’s a little disconcerting, actually.

“I sleep here enough that I basically live here,” Steph says.

“Enough,” Bruce says, his eyes hard and unforgiving. “Cassandra, go get Jim. As of right now, this is a crime scene until we rule out otherwise.”

Cass nods, and she’s just about to leave when Steph hears a voice from down the hall. She frowns because—that was from Dick’s room.

“You guys heard that, right?” Steph asks. “Because if you didn’t, I’m out. Outtie 5000. Good-freaking-bye. Stephanie Brown has left the building and isn’t coming back. All that jazz.”

“I heard it,” Bruce says. And Steph can only watch as he makes his way down the hall towards his son’s room, Damian and Tim not even hesitating—or arguing—before following after him.

Steph shares an uneasy glance with Cass and she bites her lip. “What do you think?”

Cass doesn’t speak for a moment, but then she nods her head in the direction the boys had gone, and Steph can’t help but deflate in disappointment. Just a little. This is a little different than being in uniform, and she’s not happy that she’s doing this in a short sparkly dress Cass had picked out for her.

Cass looks at ease, though, and Steph appreciates it when her best friend holds her hand and squeezes. Steph smiles back.

“Guess we should go watch their backs, huh?”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Cass replies, and Steph’s smile grows a bit more genuine.

“Right, right,” Steph breathes. And then they skirt around the puddle. “Well. Might as well get on with it, right? I can totally use my heels as a weapon, right? That’s somewhat socially acceptable? Actually, don’t answer that. If it comes down to it, I’m doing it anyways. Watch out, thugs, I’m armed and dangerous with heeled shoes, and I can attest that getting hit in the face with one really freaking hurts. So watch out for—”

Steph stutters to a stop, both physically and mentally. She’s standing in the doorway to Dick’s bedroom, but—but.

“What happened?” she whispers to Tim, who looks about as clued in as she does.

His wide eyes flick to her helplessly before they’re back on Bruce, who’s checking Dick’s pulse. Dick, as it turns out, has been passed out on the floor of his bedroom, blood oozing sluggishly from a cut on his forehead. Bruce is trying to gently rouse him, but besides the steady up-down motions of his chest as he breathes, Dick doesn’t move.

He’s dead to the world.

Steph shivers at the mental image that brings up.

Damian scoffs softly, and Steph glances over at him, watches as he watches Dick with worried, but angry eyes.

From somewhere else in the manor, there’s another crash, and the lights flicker again.

Bruce finally looks up, meeting each of their eyes in turn, and says, “There’s someone in the house.”

And yeah. Steph’s done.

[mayonara]

Thanksgiving and Leaves

Damian is stuck watching Dick for a while and Dick teaches him how to play with leaves. By jumping in them.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Also posted on AO3

Happy Thanksgiving all!

"Damian."

The young teen sighed heavily from hearing his name being called. "Yes?" he answered as he teared his attention away from the TV and met Jason's gaze.

"Can you watch Dick?" Jason asked and strode towards the young teen who was lounging in the living room. "I'm going to help Alfred with cooking," he said and held the boy out to pass over to Damian.

"I suppose I can entertain tiny Grayson," Damian huffed and stretched out his arms to receive the fidgeting child.

"Dami!" Dick cried out in delight and immediately latched onto the young teen.

"Good. Make sure he behaves and don't spoil his dinner."

Damian arched a brow at his remark, confused by it. Jason all but sighed and rolled his eyes before narrowing them at the innocent giggling Dick. "That one—" he said and pointed. "Is going to attempt to use his childish charms to coerce you into feeding him. Don't listen to him," Jason warned. "I mean it."

Damian didn't see anything wrong with it, but he wasn't exactly looking to be reprimanded by Jason so he agreed. Besides, it'd be too much work to attempt to steal from Alfred and risk getting yelled at by the butler. So he nodded his head in agreement and Jason gave him a slight nod before he disappeared.

Damian sighed softly and moved the boy to set him down onto the couch. "Tiny Grayson," he called and the boy's eyes perked up, blinking rapidly.

"Yes?" He smiled wide and was completely full of energy.

"I'm watching a show and you are joining me," he said and wasn't about to change the channel for Dick. He was in the middle of a very important show and was determined to finish it.

Dick's eyes widen and he cocked his head to the side in confusion. He didn't seem to understand much of what Damian was saying. "Can I watch cawtoon?"

"No," Damian shook his head. "Were you listening?"

"No?" Dick said and wiggled his nose. "I want cawtoon."

"No."

Dick puffed up his cheeks and kicked up his legs. "Can I have pie?"

"Todd said no to desserts."

"But pie. Pwease?" Dick looked up at the boy with pouty lips and googly eyes, trying to win him over with his sad face. But that wasn't going to exactly work on Damian. At least, he wouldn't allow it too.

"No means no."

Dick sighed. "Ice cweam?"

"No."

"Cake?!"

"No."

"Dami mean!" Dick huffed and threw his body onto the couch, curling into a ball as he threw a tantrum. "Mean! I want pie! Cake! Ice cweam! Cookies!"

Damian flinched from the sudden screaming, shocked that Dick was acting like a brat or well, being one. He wasn't always this way, but sometimes he did get moody and lately, he was becoming more disobedient than usual.

"I said no," Damian said and held firm. He was tasked with not letting Dick spoil his appetite before the Thanksgiving meal and he was going to hold himself to that.

Dick continued whining, murmuring words of 'I want' and listing a list of desserts and sweets. Damian could only sigh and turned around to place his attention back on his show while ignoring the boy. He left him alone to himself, letting him cry and call Damian names by telling he's mean and the like. Which didn't exactly bother him.

Eventually, the boy calmed down as his whines fell silent and he shuffled up from where he was curled on the couch and climbed onto Damian's lap.

Damian breathed under his breath and titled his head down to look at the boy, found bright blue eyes staring at him adoringly. "Yes?"

"Can I pway outside?"

Damian gave him a look, the 'are you crazy look.' "What are you going to do outside?"

"Pway with weaves!"

"Leaves?"

"Weaves!" Dick exclaimed and giggled adorably as he bounced in Damian's lap, excited at the thought of playing with leaves. But Damian wasn't exactly sure what he meant by that.

"Why leaves?" He was confused. Why did Dick want to play with leaves? What was so fun with that?

Dick blinked his pretty blue eyes, long eyelashes fluttering as he stared at the young teen in interest. "You dunno?"

Baffled, Damian sputtered. "Tt. Of course I do." He really didn't though he wasn't about to admit to it. "Let us go outside then," he mumbled and Dick clapped his hands in excitement. Damian lifted the boy carefully into his arms as Dick wrapped his arms around his neck, holding on tight.

On the way to the backyard, he grabbed Dick's hat, shoes and a jacket to keep him warm from the chill wind of Gotham. He didn't want the poor kid to catch a cold. And he wasn't up for getting blamed by his father or any of the other members for getting his 'oldest' brother sick.

Once Damian had Dick all suited up and ready to play outside, they strolled into the backyard. The air was cold and sent a shiver down Damian's spine. He could just see his breath every time he breathed as white puffs of air flew from his lips. At least the weather was clear for the most part with just a few clouds fluttering about in the sky.

Damian kept a close eye on Dick and watched as he toddled over towards the tiny pile of leaves. "Dami!" He called for the young teen and Damian all but sighed as he dragged himself towards the boy. Dick turned around on his heels and peered up at his brother as he held out his palm. "Need."

Damian just stared at him. "What?"

"Need thing! To-to make weaves!"

Damian still didn't get what Dick was trying to do so he thought he'd just ask instead of letting himself keep guessing. "What is it that you want to do?"

"Jump! I wanna jump in weaves. Pwease?"

"You...wouldn't that hurt?" He pinched his brows in concern and slightly confused.

Dick then gasped loudly, realizing that Damian probably didn't know what he was trying to get at. "No hurt! You make um—this--" he said as he made a gesture, using his hands to draw out the shape of a large mound. "Big! And—and then jump!" He squeaked and moved to replicate the move by jumping lightly.

Ah. Damian understood now. Dick wanted to make a large pile of leaves to jump into. Though he couldn't really see the fun in that, but figured he'd go with it anyways. Anything to calm the boy down and satisfy his need.

"Okay," Damian replied and went off to find some rakes. He found a few and grabbed one for himself and a smaller size one for Dick to use since he might want to help. Well, he looked like he was itching to help with how he was kicking at the leaves and trying to form the mound.

When Damian returned, he found Dick already picking up leaves with his bare hands and dropping them into a small pile he was creating. Damian huffed a breath and shook his head at the boy. He went up to his side and stopped him mid-way to hand him the rake so he wouldn't have to dirty his hands any further.

"Use this," Damian instructed.

Dick beamed at him and took the rake. "Okay!" he cheered and then got back to work as he tried to rake the leaves towards his small pile he was building.

The two worked in relative silence and Damian was doing most of the work which he expected to do. Dick was helping and while his contribution wasn't much his effort was well appreciated.

Finally, they finished and made two large mounds, one for each. Dick's was a little bit thicker because Damian wanted to ensure there was enough cushion and leverage so the boy wouldn't injure himself.

"Okay," Damian said and dropped the rakes off to the side. "Tiny Grayson," he called and found Dick about to run towards the pile, but stopped when his name was called.

"Hm?"

"Run and then jump?"

Dick nodded his head vigorously. "Run and jump!" He screamed and hopped up and down, too excited.

Damian scrunched his nose, readying himself for partaking in such a silly event. Jumping in leaves. Tt. It was such a childish thing to do and it was unsanitary as well. Though Damian supposed he would entertain the boy just this once. Besides, he was maybe a little interested.

"Count!" Dick exclaimed and Damian stared at him, not one bit amused, but the boy was grinning and Damian couldn't very well ignore his cute plea.

So he sighed and started counting. "One."

They both lined up so they were evenly spread out and readied themselves.

"Two."

And at this point Dick was babbling about how excited he was.

"Three!"

And off they went. The two dashed towards the pile of leaves and with just a few feet before, they jumped off the ground and leapt forward, falling onto the large mountain of reds, yellows and oranges. The leaves exploded in a loud poof as it all dispersed, fluttering about in the sky as they slowly fell back to the ground.

Damian blinked rapidly as he lay on his back, staring up at the clear sky. From beside him, he could hear the boy laughing aloud, giggling with such fun and then shouting, "Again!"

And strangely enough, the corner of Damian's lips slowly curled into a mischievous smile and he laughed softly to himself. "Yeah, let's go again."

And again they went, over and over until it was time to feast.

----

"Holy shit," Jason muttered which earned him a dirty glare from Bruce, telling him to mind his language. But he was too distracted to really care about getting lectured during the Thanksgiving meal since he was too amazed by how much Dick was eating. "Dickie, you're eating so much."

Dick said nothing but smiled as he stuffed his mouth full of mashed potatoes.

"Just let him eat," Tim said and waved Jason off as he grabbed a piece of turkey for Dick who was pointing at it.

"Yeah, I know, but like—where does it all go?" Jason asked in wonder and gawked at his tiny little boyfriend whose cheeks were filled to the brim, chewing loudly as he was still trying to shovel more food in.

"He's a growing boy," Stephanie added and took a sip of her cider. The girls were also present, Cassandra, Stephanie and Barbara, joining them for a Thanksgiving meal. Although Barbara's visit would be brief as she had to spend the rest of the day with her father.

Sure, what they said was true, but Dick was eating way more than usual. Like he was starving or expended too much energy and needed sustenance to refuel himself. His plate was packed full of mashed potatoes and gravy, some stuffing and turkey. A few sides here and there and he'd eaten it all. Well it was a child's size plate but still, the boy wanted more and was eating with one hand while he reached out with the other.

"Dickiebird," Jason called.

Dick blinked up at Jason with his mouth wide open. He was sitting right beside him on a booster seat since he was too tiny to fill a large chair himself. "Uh huh?" he answered with a mouth full.

Jason sighed and reached over to fix how he was holding his spoon since the boy had it gripped as if he was about to stab something. "Chew with your mouth closed," he said and tapped his mouth softly.

Dick sealed his lips shut and chewed as he nodded his head. "It's yummy!"

"And don't talk with your mouth full."

Dick nodded once more and continued eating his meal in piece as the others did as well while cooing over him.

And well, he supposed it was too cute of a picture to pass by so he let himself do whatever. He just hoped Dick wasn't going to throw it all back up in the middle of the night from over stuffing himself.

...yeah, he really hoped so.

[ellana-ravenwood]

Burrito Blanket Batmom - Bruce Wayne/Batfamily x Reader

I kinda love the idea of a “burrito blanket” batmom haha, and since I thought the request from anonymous I received was quite similar, I mixed them up together. Hope you’ll like it, particularly you @dannysanime, as usual, feedbacks are very welcome :) : 

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

-Are you alright mother ?

It’s early in the morning when your youngest son finds you in the living room, wrapped in a blanket on the couch, eyes wide open and not really looking at anything in particular. You don’t even react as he approaches you. 

-Mother ? Hey ? Mom are you alright ? 

Finally, you turn your head to look at him, blanket all the way up to your chin and wrapped around your head (and all around your body really, your face the only thing peering out of this burrito you made of yourself), you say in a croaked voice : 

-No.

Damian is immediately worried. It isn’t often, if not never, that you complain. That you let things get you down. You’re the cheery one of the family. You and Dick often are the ones that see the positive things in everything, so, seeing you there, laying on the couch without even the TV on, and looking as if you were completely done with life...Well, it worries your kid. 

You realize that he’s concerned about your well being when he kneels in front of you, and put his palm on your forehead. Oh, sweet boy. If only everyone could see him as you saw him, if only he’d be as nice with everyone as he is with you...No one would ever call him “brat” anymore. 

-I’m not sick honey, I’m just...I’m just....erf...

-...You’re just “erf” ?

You shrug your shoulder. Or at least, Damian thinks you shrug your shoulder, he isn’t really sure, seeing as you’re wrapped tightly in that damn comforter. 

He’s not sure what’s wrong with you, but he still wants to help. 

-Hum...Is there anything I can do for you ? Do  you want coffee ? Something to eat ? Or do you want me to go put a movie on or something ? Anything, really ?

You smile weakly at him, and it makes him frown. Your smiles are never weak ! They’re always so bright, warm, beautiful ! They always make him feel better, not matter what. Awkwardly, he brushes a few fingers against your cheek, and your smile widens a  little. Here. Better. 

-You’re already doing a lot my boy. 

“My boy”. He loved when you called him that. It made him feel...It just made him feel loved. And like a part of the family. Your son. But of course he was your son, you never saw him in any other way, even at the difficult beginnings...

He kept on brushing your cheek lightly, putting some strand of hair out of your face. You managed to take an arm out of your blanket, and caressed his hair lovingly, he laid his head next to yours, kneeling on the floor in front of you, and you just shared a sweet mom/son moment...So much that you both fell into a deep and comfortable slumber. 

*****************

Tim found you two about an hour later, and tried to make the least noise possible so that he wouldn’t wake any of you...but Damian had a feather light sleep, and woke up when his brother picked his computer up from the coffee table next to the couch. 

-Sorry. 

Damian groans a bit, and softly takes his hand out of yours, slowly slipping off the couch (as you both drifted off to sleep, he climbed on the couch and fell asleep with his head on your stomach, your hand in his hair, stroking it lovingly...most confortable position ever, especially since the blanket wrapping your body was extra comfy and soft) so as to not wake you, and stands up. He stretches a bit and looks at his brother. 

Tim was smiling at him, because no matter of how much a pain in the ass Damian was, the way he found you two was just too cute. Made him a bit jealous though, he used to love falling asleep with your hand in his hair when he was a kid. 

A bit embarrassed to have been found in such a position of weakness (give it to Damian to think sign of affection toward his own mother was showing weakness...), the boy nodded toward his brother, and with a last small kiss on your forehead, left. 

The kiss made you shift in your sleep, and as your youngest boy left the living room hurriedly, blushing a bit because someone walked in on him being affectionate, you opened one eye, and then the other...and was greeted by the sight of your boy, Tim, smiling at you. 

-Hey you. 

-Hey mom. It’s one of those days uh ? 

Unlike Damian, Tim already saw you in such a state. 

Sometimes, when the pressure of being a Wayne, of always being in the public eye and judged for every actions you made was too much, when the stress and fear you felt every night for your kids and husband was getting too high..When really, everything was just overwhelming, you’d come down in the living room with a heavy blanket, and turn into a burrito, not doing anything all day but sleep and day dream. 

It was your way of calming down. Of deflating any negative feelings. 

-Yeah, one of those days. Where’s your brother ? 

-Which one ? 

-The one that was cuddling with me just moments ago.

-Oooooh, that one. He got all embarrassed and all that I witnessed him being cute, and left in a hurry. He tried not to wake you up though. 

-Such a sweet boy. 

-To you maybe. 

-Aww don’t be jealous, you’re my sweet boy too ! 

-I’m not jealous ! I’m just saying Dams can be...Oh don’t look at me like that mom, I’m not jealous ! 

You reached out with an arm, and ruffled his hair tenderly. He smacked your hand away, but couldn’t hide his smile. He could fool a lot of people, acting all serious and all, but never you. You patted the place Damian left and said :

-Do you wanna cuddle too ? 

-No I don’t wanna cuddle, I have important things to do. 

-Like what ? 

-...Binge watching Game of Thrones.

-Again ?

-Again. 

-...I’m up for that. 

-I knew you’d be. 

Tim settles in front of you, his back against the couch, putting his computer down on the coffee table once more, and turns on the first season of GoT, which you both already watched at least ten times...But come on, Game of Thrones ! 

As much as he likes to play the mature teenage boy who do not need his mommy to do everything for him, he doesn’t resist at all when you put your fingers through his hair and gentle massage his scalp. He always found it soothing when you did that...All of your sons and husband found it soothing. 

You’re half way through the second episodes when you drift once more to sleep. Tim realizes you’re not conscious anymore only at the beginning of the third though, and with another smile, he unwraps your hand from his hair, and stands up. He leaves quietly. 

You needed your sleep in “one of those days”. To decompress you know. 

******************

Jason comes in the living room whistling a random tune and making some good dance move, sure no one was around to see him...and freezes when he sees you on the couch. As soon as you heard his catchy whistle, your eyes were open again, and you were now smirking at him mischievously. 

-You got some move my son.

One of his hand goes up to rub his neck, and he gives you a half-smile, a little embarrassed. 

-You weren’t really meant to see that...

-Yeah, I know. It was cute though. 

-Don’t tell anyone mom, it would ruin my tough guy reputation. 

-Jason, you still sleep with a teddy bear, and whenever you sleep in the Manor you can’t fall asleep without one of my kiss goodnight...what tough guy reputation ? 

-...You’re the only one that knows those stuffs. Shush. 

-Don’t shush me son, I’m in a bad mood. 

-Yeah, I guess because of the...burrito way you wrapped yourself in your blanket. What’s up ? 

-I’m done living. I’m gonna stay on this couch for the rest of my life. 

-That bad ? 

-That bad. This past week has been completely shit. 

-I’m sorry...

-It’s not your fault. If anything, you and your brothers make it better. 

-Now, that’s cute. 

-Shush, don’t ruin my tough mom reputation please. 

Jason chuckles and come sit on the arm of the couch. As an old reflex, his hand take holds of yours, and he squeezes it lovingly, just like he did as a child, when you were both super uncomfortable at charity ball or such things. 

-Do you need anything ? 

-No, let me be miserable on my own. 

-You know, you’re not suppose to be the broody one of the family. 

-But if I’m never sad, how can I know when I’m happy ? 

-...That’s too deep for my brain right now mom.

-You hungover ? 

-No. 

-...

-Yes. It was Roy’s birthday last night. 

-Explains a lot. So how are things between you and...

-Oh you know what ? Leaving you to be miserable on your own sounds like a great idea !

-Hey ! You can’t just...

-I can, and I will. See you later mom, feel better please. 

-Wait, there is something you can do for me. 

-Anything, as long as it doesn’t involve answering your questions about my love life. 

-My dear son, would your tough reputation suffers a lot if you gave me a hug ?

Jason smiles to himself, and shakes his head. He could deny it all he wanted, he was such a mommy’s boy. He just couldn’t resist such a request. He raised, and gave you an amazing hug, that only him could give you. He was gifted in the hug giving department. Your smile made him happy. 

-Just don’t tell anyone alright ? 

-Promise. 

-Ok if you need anything else, I’ll be in my room. And here, take my iPod, I find that music always make me feel better. 

You smile once again at him, and he leaves in a great move, making some dance moves as he exit the room just to hear you chuckle behind him. 

***************

You fell asleep, once again, with the music in your ears, and you almost punch Dick in the face when he tries to put the blanket back up to your chin (your son knows you, he knows that’s how you like your blanket, almost covering your face). 

-Wow wow wow, it’s me ! It’s me ! 

You can’t help but giggle a bit at your eldest kid, sitting on the floor (he fell when you surprised him by almost punching him), arms raised in front of him as to protect himself. 

-Oh sorry Dickie, I...I fell asleep. I think I was listening to some epic music from a movie when I felt you put the blanket back up...frightened me, and at the same time, I feel like I was having a great dream about riding dragons and fighting ruffians so...yeah...Sorry.

-Haha it’s alright mom, really. I’m just glad you missed me, you got a mean right hook ! 

-Your father told me that more than once. 

-I bet he did. So. How are you feeling ? 

-Terrible. 

Your honesty makes him smile widely. He liked that about you. If you really weren’t feeling alright, you’d just say it. It was making your family’s life so much easier, like that, they just knew what you really felt. It was a really nice change of pace compared to the Wayne patriarch. Bruce had a...hard time expressing himself. 

-Who’s ass do I have to kick ? 

-Well, for starter, the entire Gotham’s press. Paparazzis too. Those damn bitches that keep trying to seduce your father. The people who think they’re better than me...Oh, and that guy this morning, who ran into me, made me spill my coffee all over myself, and then proceeded to yell at me because I wasn’t looking at where I was going when he was the one to run in me...And if you have time, if you could also kick Clark’s ass for annoying your father, and putting him in a bad mood, that’d be great. 

Dick cannot hold his laughter, and it takes him a few minutes before regaining his countenance. He smiles at you and nods empathically. 

-I don’t think I’ll have time for all of that mom...Besides, can’t you cheer dad up ? You always do.

-Correction : I always do when I’m myself in a good mood. Right now, I’m afraid I’d just punch him just for brooding. 

-Oooooh it’s one of those days ? 

-Exactly. 

-I love you mom. 

-I love you too Dick, but today, I need more than that to feel better...

-Yeah I know, just thought I’d give you a quick reminder though...Also, I know exactly what you need. 

And he did indeed. A head massage. It always soothed you down so much. When Dick was a child, he would run his little fingers on your scalp because he liked the feel of your hair in his hands...He would also do that when you were sad, as he found out years ago that it just made you feel better. So much that almost in an instant, you were asleep.

With a kiss to your forehead, he takes his hands out of your (H/L) (H/C) hair and stays a bit there, sitting next to you, listening to your breathing, thanking God or whoever was out there for putting you in his life at a time he really needed you. 

Damn he was glad Bruce decided that having a steady relationship with you was a good idea...With a last smile at your sleeping form, your eldest son left quietly. 

*******************

You woke up at some point, with a cup of warm tea and cookies in front of you. 

Alfred. Of course it was Alfred. The man always knew the small little things that would cheer you up. You always wondered how he knew when you were going to wake up, as the cup of tea you found was always warm...That guy was magical. He always had the right words and actions to make you feel alright. 

He was the father you never had (as often in Gotham, unfortunately, you grew up with an absent father, and a single mother who had all the trouble in the world to raise you and your brothers). 

You sighed contentedly, and whispered a “thank you” that you were sure he heard. Behind you, silently standing in the doorframe, Alfred was looking at the back of your head with a fatherly love. A deep bond always existed between you two, ever since the day Bruce introduced you as his girlfriend...So of course he’d make you all the tea and cookies in the World you needed. 

**********************

The sun was starting to go down, and you were still feeling like shit. 

This week really had been particularly difficult. So much stress and pressure, worries and fears...You had enough. You just wanted to not do anything, not think about anything bad, and chill. 

You realized you were lucky to have a house full of boys that cared for you, and each visit from each of them cheered you up a bit...But there was one missing, and you just couldn’t be better without him.

Just as you were thinking that, you hear his heavy footsteps going through the living room. At first, he doesn’t notice you, laying on the couch, but as if a sixth sense hit him, before leaving the room, he turns around...And his face changes.

It goes from a frown, from tense muscles and fatigue to joy, love, relief. 

He hasn’t seen you all day, as it was quite a busy one, and had craved your presence since this morning, when he left your arms. 

Bruce. Your Bruce. He’s here. Back. Finally. 

He approaches you, and in a few big and quick steps, he’s sitting on the side of the couch, trapping your body between him and the pillows. 

-Rough day, my love ? 

-Seeing how tired you look, I’d say you had a rougher one my Broosh. 

-Not particularly..just long. And since you had your day off, I didn’t even get to see you...Or kiss you.

He bends down slowly, and your arms go around his neck. His lips are soft, slightly chapped, and passionate as they move against your own. You drag him on you, and suddenly, his legs are on each sides of yours, and his elbows are holding his weight as he kisses you eagerly. 

He pulls away, and lets out a content sigh. 

-I waited for his all day long. 

You smile, and he smiles back. That particular lazy little smile he’s able to have only when in your presence. He crawls a bit down your body, and lets his weight slowly resting on you, his head on your chest. You know what you have to do, and he automatically close his eyes and lets out another content sigh as you start caressing his hair, and his temples. 

Eyes still close, body relaxed against yours (he’s heavy, only made of muscles and bones, but you always liked feeling his weight on yours...it felt like the safest place ever), he says : 

-Do you want to talk about it ? 

-Be more specific my Bruce...

-About why you’re having a bad day.

-No. 

-Ok. 

A comfortable silence installs itself and, still wrap in the blanket except for your arms caressing Bruce’s head and back, you feel better than you felt in the past week. It has been a while since you both had some times for just lazy cuddling...His voice wakes you up from the slumber you were starting to drift into : 

-I love you (Y/N). So damn much. Without you things do not have any sense, any meanings, and...I’m not good with words. I just love you, so much it hurts, and it would kill me to loose you.

Surprised, you twist your neck to look at him...He turned his head toward you two, his chin between your breast, arms wrapped around you, eyes locked with yours. 

-What’s gotten into you ? 

-Nothing...it’s the truth. And seeing you sad is...I just don’t like it. At all. You’re always cheering me up. You always know what to say or do...I’m...I’m sorry I’m not good with words, or with...like, I don’t know how to show you how much I love you. But believe me when I say I would die a thousands painful death for you. I...I...I would re-live my parents’ death if it meant staying with you forever. 

Your heart misses multiple beats, and your arms tighten around him a bit more, putting more pressure in your caress on his head and back. His words touched you deeply...You know he loves you. He already said it a few times, and though he thinks he’s bad in showing his affection, he always has pleasant actions toward you. Putting a strand of hair behind your ear, kissing you softly even in public, brushing his fingers on your cheeks tenderly, making love to you always just like you want it etc etc...But those words. The fact that he’d re-live the worst day of his life just to stay with you...

He finished what his sons and butler started. All trace of stress, fear, anger, sadness and any negative feelings left you. The only thing that mattered now, was him, his heart beating in rhythm with yours, his breath on the bare skin around your neck. 

The only thing that mattered now, was him. 

-Bruce...I...I...I don’t...I...

-Ssshhh. You don’t have to say anything, I just wanted you to know, that’s all.

There’s a short silence, that you quickly break : 

-I love you too. 

You kiss the top of his head, and feel him smile against your skin...and finally, you open your little burrito. He raises a bit, just so that  now, the blanket is also around him, and, heads on your chest, with your hands caressing him, he quickly falls asleep...You follow right after, your dreams only pleasant ones. More memories than dreams really, as all the best time you spent with Bruce unfolds in your head. Your first date, first kiss, first time, wedding, Dickie, Jason, Tim, Damian, Gotham’s roof, walking hands in hands on a sunny day...So many great memories with the love of your life. 

So many more to comes. 

As the day finally ends, and you both fall asleep in each others arms, wrapped like a burrito in a warm blanket, you feel better than you ever felt in a while. 

Bruce skips patrol, trusting his sons to take care of things, just needing to be with you. And it’s perfect. 

*****************

Late at night, when your sons will come back from their patrol, they’ll find their mom and dad asleep on the living room’s couch, wrapped in their mother’s favorite comforter. They’ll put the blanket back up, without making any noises, as to not to wake you. They’ll lay kisses on both your foreheads, happy to see you two in a good mood again. 

Their father was smiling in his sleep, and they knew that just for that, they will always be there to cheer you up, because the family needed your positivity. 

Their father needed to fall asleep smiling. 

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

Deja Vu - fic

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne Summary: This has happened before.  A/N: Another post nightwing 18 garbage heap. A prequel to Everything, though. I just have a lot of emotions and stuff on how Damian’s recovery would go, and what them folks around him would think. I’m also having some dad feels lately hahaha. And Damian being a tiny baby feels.

~~

He remembered it like it was yesterday.

Coming back to his family after a year away. Damian a newly minted Robin. Dick, shot and injured and probably dying, but still fighting the good fight, like he always had.

Two months off, no debate, he had said. And he remembered Damian panicking. Remembered that was the first and only real time Damian openly panicked, about Dick being taken away as his partner. Remembered both himself and Dick laughing, and telling the child not to worry.

Still, he remembered the injury. Remembered those two months of recovery. The moments Dick would wince out of nowhere in pain. Working through some rehab with both Damian and Tim.

He remembered having nightmares about it. Waking up in the middle of the night and rushing to a computer. Needing to hear Dick’s voice, needing to see him sleeping in his bed at the penthouse. Needing to make sure his son was still alive.

He remembered. Every day since it happened. Vowed to never let it happen again. Simon Hurt would never harm Dick again. Bruce would die before that happened.

But unfortunately, Simon Hurt was smart. And he didn’t attack Dick again. At least not physically.

He attacked Damian instead.

The same injury, a bullet to the head. So many hours until it left him an invalid not even capable of speech, or dead.

The flashbacks came in waves, as Dick and his girlfriend rushed into the cave from their vehicle, Damian cradled limply in Dick’s arms. As Dick rambled quickly about what happened while Bruce held his arms out for Damian himself.

And Bruce was frozen, after he rushed his son to the operating table where Alfred waited. Stood there at Damian’s side, held his hand – but all he could see was Dick in the same position however many years earlier.

Except Dick was a grown man when Hurt had shot him. Damian was only thirteen.

The waves of flashbacks turned into waves of emotions long hidden. Fear. Terror. Sadness. Guilt.

Hurt tried to take another son from him. He might lose Damian again.

Even after Alfred finished the surgery, and situated the anesthetized Damian into a move comfortable position, Bruce clung to those tiny fingers. Refused food and sleep to instead just watch his boy. His littlest boy. The one who loved them all so deeply, and none of them, singularly or together, could ever match it, no matter how hard they tried.

He could hear Dick elsewhere in the cave, angsting. Blaming himself, hating himself. This was his fault, he was telling someone – that woman probably, or maybe Alfred, who had excused himself after the surgery – this was his fault and if Damian died he’d never forgive himself.

But Bruce didn’t blame him so harshly, not really.

After all, this was all their faults; it was just as much Bruce’s as it was his eldest son’s.

Because, when was the last time he’d really seen Damian? Spent any time with him? Sure, he saw him here and there, but…but Alfred had told him the last time he came home from his own missions.

He’d missed his son’s thirteenth birthday.

Everyone had, in fact.

Damian was off doing his own things, and sure, Bruce knew that if he called, for any reason, good or bad, Damian would come running.

He just never called.

And maybe that would have made a difference here. Or maybe not.

Maybe if he’d known that Damian was going to Bludhaven, or about this Shawn Tsang, he’d have been there with his sons. Fighting along side them. Maybe then Damian wouldn’t have run off on his own, or had the chance to be cornered by Hurt. Maybe he would have been able to physically protect him, or beaten up Hurt himself before he had the time to shoot.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Again, his mind drifted to when it was Dick in this position, and he frowned.

He didn’t sit by Dick’s bedside, then. Didn’t think of the what-ifs and maybes. Just told him two months off and moved on to the next big, worldly problem. Let Dick handle it on his own. Let Damian help him on his own.

…He would never be good enough for his children, he decided, even as, in his unconsciousness, Damian squeezed his fingers, and he squeezed back. He would never be able to give them what they deserved, no matter how much he wanted to. It would always be hindsight. He’d always say: “Next time, for sure.”

(It would be next time, for sure, though. Next time he even heard Doctor Simon Hurt’s name, he’d hunt him down. Beat him to within an inch of his life.

That bastard will not hurt another one of his children. He will not hurt Dick or Damian ever again. Bruce swore on his own life, then, and on the lives of his parents.

There were things worse than death. And Simon Hurt was going to pay for this.)

He smirked, then. No wonder Damian was so hard on himself. It appeared to be an unfortunate hereditary trait.

“Sorry, Damian.” He whispered, rubbing his thumb along the back of Damian’s hand. “Looks like you pulled the short straw.”

Damian didn’t answer, and of course he wouldn’t. Bruce sighed, and clasped his other hand over Damian’s too, before leaning his cheek on the bundle of fingers and closing his eyes.

He used Dick’s anguish as his own lullaby to drift off to.

He doesn’t know how long he dozed for, or when Dick stopped talking. All he knew was Damian’s hand was suddenly moving in the cocoon of his, and when he sat up with a start, there was a crick in his neck.

“…Father?” Damian blinked up at him with bleary eyes. His voice was hoarse. “What are you doing here?” A pause, as he looked around. “…Where is here?”

“The cave.” Bruce hummed, eyes dropping to the bandage around Damian’s neck. No new blood had begun seeping through the gauze. At least, not yet. So that was a good sign. “Dick brought you here after he took down Hurt.”

“…Oh.” Damian’s brows furrowed. “Well. You didn’t have to waste your time here, Father. The injury is nothing. I’ll be back on my feet by morning.”

Bruce snorted a laugh, and Damian looked up at him indignantly. “Son, you were shot. In the head. Two months off, no debate.”

Damian opened his mouth to argue, but then closed it, staring up thoughtfully.

“…You said that to Grayson. When Hurt shot him.” And of course Damian remembered. How could Bruce think he wouldn’t? “…Is Grayson okay? And his woman?”

“They’re both fine. Worried out of their minds for you, but fine.” Bruce smiled softly. “…You did good, son.”

Damian hummed. “I don’t know about that, Father. If I did so good, why did I get shot in the first place?”

“I mean in general, Damian. You protected Dick when he needed you to most.” Bruce pushed. “If it weren’t for you, it might be Dick here on this hospital bed, or worse.”

“…Father, you shouldn’t be wasting your time worrying about me.” Damian whispered, looking down. “Goodness knows Grayson isn’t…”

“Don’t talk like that.” Bruce said gently, hooking his thumb under Damian’s chin and lifting his face. “He loves you just as much as I do, and is worried sick. Besides, who said I was wasting my time?”

Damian looked sheepish, blinking quickly.

“How do you feel?” Bruce asked instead. “Are you in any pain?”

Damian thought about it, and shrugged. “A little. It’s mostly sore. Maybe with a little training I can-”

“Two months.” Bruce repeated with a grin. “No debates.”

Damian huffed, and looked down to where Bruce was still holding his hand with both of his own. Carefully, Damian turned his hand over, but didn’t pull it away.

“You’re being ridiculous and overprotective, Father.” Damian pouted.

“It’s kind of my job.” Bruce returned softly. “Go back to sleep, Damian. You need your rest.” A pause, when Damian’s eyebrows furrowed again in concern. “Don’t worry, I’ll sit with you here until you fall back to sleep.”

Damian still hesitated, then glanced up. And with the smallest voice Bruce had ever heard, from Damian or otherwise, he said: “…Promise?”

Bruce grinned wider, patting Damian’s hand. “Promise.”

“Good.” Damian nodded shortly, though winced at the movement. Just like Dick had. “…Father?”

“Hm?”

“…What was Mother like back when you loved her?” Damian asked. “How did you two meet?”

Bruce blinked, confused for a moment. But then he realized: Damian was asking for a…

…A bedtime story.

He relaxed a little bit, exhaled a laugh. Rested his elbows on the mattress without letting Damian’s hand go. Damian’s eyes were already half-lidded, and Bruce knew this wouldn’t take long.

“Well, I was a younger man, then. Way younger. Dick was Robin, and we were following a case. And she was a medical student in the city…”