#Bruce probably knew lots of stuff too but Alfred insisted that kids hiding stuff was normal and necessary

[violent138]

Sibling shenanigans at Wayne Manor/Tower must've been insane can you imagine hiding your collective crimes from Batman?

Those kids were making blood oaths and learning how to bury evidence of the stupid things they did together.

[impyssadobsessions]

Raising Phantom Chpt 6

Read Here on Ao3 Bruce knew his kids were up to something. They've been more secretive as of late, which normally wasn't that strange if it wasn't for the number of times he looked at his phone to see his kids at the public library. Damian said something about them being fixated on a couple of civilians, before being interrupted by Duke saying he thinks Alfred (the cat) was sick. This caused the young boy to run out the room and ever since he hadn't spoken much about it. “It was just a hairball.” Damian muttered later in response to Bruce asking if Alfred (the cat) was okay. Damian avoided him after that. Even on patrol he noticed his kids were using private lines or whispering once Bruce was too far to hear or read them. He wasn't sure what they were hiding, but he was determined to find out. He was hoping the Gala he was holding for the night would give him answers. After all... Glancing at his children as they met up in the formal sitting room before the gala. His kids actually WANTED to come with him tonight. Only Damian was visibly upset. Jason was only one missing, checking his phone. He wasn't far from the manor. Probably was going to come in late. Bruce squinted his eyes at his children. They were definitely up to something.

---owo--- Jasmine wanted to strangle Vlad. Not only did he keep her out of school and work, thankfully everyone was very sympathetic to her, he went through four designers before she finally convinced him to stick with one. She felt so bad for them. The last one had less than 42 hours to make the gown. They did so splendidly. Her dress did look gorgeous, just wasn't her at all. Thankfully the shape of it was more her taste. It took a lot of convincing to get Vlad to drop the ballgown idea and the pure red look. Jazz made sure to slip the designer some more money from Vlad's bank account as a tip. It was a mermaid style dress with a red and black gradient. The skirt was pin striped black and red. The bodice had detailing sewn on and jewels pin to it. Black sparkly tool laced her hips and then large ruffles of the stuff at the bottom covering her black flats. Vlad would never know that she switched her silver heels for something more comfortable. She also was fitted with black gloves that reached to her biceps. A black choker with jewels that matched her teal eyes, and black bird clips that decorated her hair that was braided into a bun. She fidgeted with her bodice. It wasn't a perfect fit, but it did the job, even if she was often reminded of the forgotten stray pins the tailor left behind. She didn't blame the poor guy as he did amazing for what he was forced to do, but it didn't help her souring mood either. BESIDES the prickly dress, and Vlad's insistence of how important this was, the gala was definitely not how she imagined it. Yeah, she thought it be boring... but it was ridiculously so. Not only that, she found herself still being eyed by a few rich creeps. She wanted to kick them so hard in the balls. Thankfully, Vlad took over the conversations, allowing her to just hide back behind the man. Danny looked like he wanted to kick the men too.. and the women who come to dote on how cute he is. Jazz giving Danny a meek smile every time, while patting his head. She couldn't argue with what the women say, she too thought he looked too cute in a suit. With his chubby cheeks and big eyes. She wouldn't dare say it in front of Danny though. They were just biding their time, following Vlad around until he was able to boast to Bruce. However, Jazz did notice anytime they seem to be close to greeting Bruce, something would happen. Either someone else would come up to them and distract Vlad, or someone would pull Bruce farther from them. She also found it quite odd when they were just a few people away from Bruce, Vlad was bumped into by a man with a wig and fake mustache, getting wine all over his suit. That infuriated Vlad, making them wait outside of the restroom as he “cleaned” his suit. Which meant phasing the wine out of his clothes. Danny was kicking at the floor, hands in his pockets. He just wanted to leave. Jazz felt the same, as she leaned back against the wall. She let out a yelp and jerked back, remembering one of the pins that was left behind out. Danny's brows furrowed in concern. Jazz rubbed the place in her back, giving a wave of her hand to Danny not to be concerned. “Jazz! Danny! How's your night been?” A familiar voice called. It was Dick Grayson, in a fancy suit, looking quite handsome. He smiled to them, but the bit of nervous twitching and bouncing energy caught Jazz's eye. “Its been-” Jazz started to reply when Danny answered. “Terrible. Creeps and touchy old women.” He huffed, arms crossed as he was eyeing Dick suspiciously. Dick seem to relax a little giving Danny a sympathetic smile, and a chuckle. “That's true. I never liked them either and Damian's not fairing much better, he almost tried to... retaliate.” “That's an option?” Danny asked. “No, it is not.” Jazz stated firmly, giving a stern look at Danny. Dick started to chuckle at them, amused, before jolting in spot as if he was reminded why he was there. His eyes side glancing towards a direction. Danny and Jazz having caught notice glanced that way as well, but couldn't find anything important. “Would you like to dance?” Dick hurried with a grin, holding out his hand. “Its about as much fun you can get in here.” Danny was glaring at Dick, ready to pounce. Jazz instead, was pondering the sincerity of the offer. Her lips pursed and brow raised with her arms crossed. She opened her mouth to speak when Vlad loudly entered the scene. “Ah~ Fresh and clean once again. You be amazed at what a little clean up could do Danie- Ah. Dick Grayson. What a pleasure to see you again.” Vlad's voice changing into a fake tone he had held most of the night. Dick's face scrunched for a moment, revealing he did not think the same. Jazz and Danny couldn't blame him. Dick spoke with gritted teeth. “Mr. Masters. What a... pleasure.” “Can you help us locate your father? I been dying to see him all night.” Dick's shoulders relaxed as if he was expecting a different conversation entirely. He side glance and smiled with more smoothness, “I have no clue where he is, last saw him talking to Ms. Atticus on the balcony.” “Pity.” Vlad grumbled, irritated. “Of course the playboy can't stay away from a woman's wile. Surprise he hasn't been striped of everything he owns by one yet.” Dick's fist clenched. “Well, that will be all then. There is still a few more elites I want to introduce my children to.” Vlad stated. Dick blinked, glancing between Jazz and Danny. “Your children?” “Yes, this is my lovely daughter Jasmine! Though I would advise you not to try and woo her. She's quite busy.” Vlad pointed out. Dick seemed to be stuck on the daughter part. He muttered, “Daughter..?” “And this is Daniel-” “Danny.” Jazz and Danny corrected what felt like the twentieth time tonight. “DANNY, my rule breaking son-grandson.” Vlad corrected, as Jazz slapped a hand to her forehead. Her fist clenched tightly. Dick look broken for a minute. He glanced at Jazz and then at Vlad, opening his mouth to speak, then closing it again. “Dick!” Bruce's voice called out, he had Damian under his arm, and Tim's shoulder was firmly under his other hand, as he pushed through the crowd, looking furious. Damian's clothes were a mess and Tim's clothes didn't look much better. Damian was hissing, trying to get out of his father's grip. Tim was giving Dick a panicked look. Dick's eyes widened, then took Jazz's hand pulling her with him into the crowd. “Sorry, but I would really like this dance.” Jazz let out a quick scream of surprise as she was spun onto the dance floor. She blinked in confusion as she tried to keep up. She was so glad she had changed her shoes or she feared her ankles would have cracked. As she was being whisked through the crowd, she turned to glare at Dick. She opened her mouth to scold him for using her to escape his father, when she found herself spun straight into someone's chest. “Change of partners.” Dick said with a bright grin before running in a different direction. The man caught her easily, hands holding tight in the catch, then releasing gently. She could feel the vibrations of his voice as he growled. “Dick! You can't just-” Jazz blinked trying to get orientated on what had just happened, pushing herself off the man. She stared up at the man, blushing as she noticed the familiar black curly hair and white streak. It was Jason, the man that's been reading to her child. To Danny. It was strange to see him in a suit, not that he wore it properly. He purposely left the tie behind and shirt was unbutton a bit. The jacket left open and loose. “Er.” Jason seemed awkward, as they stood on the dance floor. Jazz rapidly regained her composure and frowned. “What on Earth was that?” Jason didn't know what to say at first, then decided to be straight forward replying with. “A distraction.” “I can see that.” She huffed, bottom lip pouted annoyed. She glanced in the direction she came from. Vlad and Bruce seemed to be arguing from where she could see. That was not worth going back to. Its bad enough Vlad called Danny his son in front of Dick. She didn't want to see what speech he had come up with for Bruce. “Fine. If it keeps me from having to be with Vlad any longer tonight, I'm all for being distracted. Ugh. I can't believe him.” She grumbled the last part under her breath. Jason raised a brow, eyeing her for a moment. It wasn't the same look like the other guys had been staring at her all night with. “What happened?” His voice waived. Jazz debated to say, glancing back over to Vlad again. They were still arguing, and looked pretty heated. Tim was inching along the walls, probably to flee. Who she assumed was Damian, appeared to be held back by his Father, as he looked like he was going to attack Vlad. Danny wasn't anywhere to be seen, not like he was easy to spot between the crowd. He was probably chasing after Dick. She sighed, turning back to Jason. It be nice to get it off her chest and at least explain before Dick spread misinformation to the others. She suspected nothing was really private among the siblings. At least, not anything related to her and Danny, as she had practically met all of them at least once by now. “He-oof!” She started to explain when, an eccentric couple dancing, bumped her back into Jason. She let out a squeak, blushing red at the lipstick stain on his white shirt. She tried too rub it off, but he grabbed her hand to stop her. “Perhaps we should move to the side.” Jason gestured towards the balcony off to the side of the room. It had less people and certainly looked far more inviting. “I'm not much of a dancer, so that would be fantastic.” Jazz smiled, her hand falling on his arm, as he kept hold of her other hand. Jason grinned, “Well, I can't promise we won't have to dance out of here, but if it makes you feel better. Neither am I.” “As long as my feet stay in tact, we will call it a win.” Jazz chuckled. –-uwu-- As soon as Dick took off with Jazz, Danny had been chasing after him. He ran between legs, skidding around people to try and catch the man. He was pretty fast and agile, Danny noted. He growled as he lost sight of Dick. Cursed being so short. He looked around, scanning the area and spaces between the people. He didn't see Jazz or Dick anywhere. He furrowed his brows with a glare. Stupid Vlad. Had to bring them to the gala. He pulled on his bow tie and threw it to the ground, stomping it in anger. He took deep breaths. Adults were staring, he bent down and picked up the tie and stuffed it into his pocket. He unbuttoned his suit to get more comfy. Danny was done. He had reached his limit. Vlad could go suck on a lemon. He took another deep breath and looked where he was. Which was difficult through the sea of legs, he must have been in the middle of the crowd. To avoid being bumped into by butts of the rich, he decided to weave his way to the side. He'll have a better chance to slip away and take an aerial view of the gala that way. Then he could kick Dick in the shin and leave with Jazz. Just as he reached the edge of the crowd squeezing through a line of people, who obviously drunk a little too much, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He quickly turned, jumping away from the touch. Hands clenched ready to fight, only to find himself staring at a light shimmery purple skirt of a dress. Glancing up, he noticed the girl wearing it. She had black hair and dark eyes, and gave a soft smile down at Danny with a wave of her hand. Danny blinked at her confused. Who was this? Another one of their siblings? They had been popping up a lot at the library. He hoped they were just estranged rich kids and not digging their noses where they didn't belong. “Danny?” She spoke softly, giving way that she didn't speak much. Danny just nodded, tilting his head at her. She then turned to the side, gesturing with her hand for him to follow. He furrowed his brows, glancing around him. Ah heck, if he ended up in some strange kidnap situation it be a good way to blow off steam. So he followed her, hands stuffed in his pockets. She lead him closer to the entrance of the room, where most of the people had cleared out from after walking in, over the side where a dark skinned teen in a suit stared at them. He wiped eyes, furrowing his brows as he glanced between Danny and Cass. Danny raised a brow, wondering what was up with him, before the teen grinned awkwardly. A girl was standing beside him with blonde hair, she was wearing a more vibrant colored purple dress that looked similar to the black haired girl's. She waved to them, with a grin on her face. He remembered catching a glance at the blonde hair girl before in the library. It was only brief so he didn't know her name, but her voice was recognizable. “Ah, I'm surprised he came with you so easily. I swore he was going to try and fight someone.” She chuckled waving them over. “I'm not against that.” Danny huffed, his eyes peering back at the other teen instead. He seemed to be trying not to stare at Danny too long, but failing as his eyes keep going back to him. The blonde girl chuckled, kneeling down a bit to be Danny's height. “Sure you're not. We haven't met yet, have we? I'm Steph, this is Duke, and that's Cass.” She introduced the others with a gesture of her hand. Duke gave a weak smile and wave, while Cass waved with a brighter smile. Danny glanced at each, matching the name to the person. They were apart of the family chat Barbara mentioned, they had to be. Danny cut to the chase, not interested in chatting. “Where's Dick?” Steph choked on her laugh, hand to her mouth. Duke scratching back of his head, now turning his face away from Danny. Cass was silently snickering. Danny glared at them, already thinking of ditching his new company. He already hated having to look up at them all. Steph then grabbed Danny's shoulder and turned him into a direction. Danny raised a brow in question at her, then glanced forward. Dick was swinging from the chandelier, while and infuriated Vlad and Bruce were yelling up at him and each other. “He's busy.” Steph grinned looking like she wanted to laugh again. Danny squinted his eyes. Dick was a gymnastics instructor so he guess it made sense how the man was able to lose him, but... If he was up there. He glanced into the crowd, this time with more concern. Where was Jazz? “She's ok.” Cass said as she crouched by Danny, as if picking up on his worry. “Your Mom's with Jason.” Duke smiled with his eyes closed. “Jason...?” Danny flashing back to the man that read to him at the library. “Oh.” Danny wasn't sure how to react. The guy did promise he wasn't going to try and get with Jazz, but he wasn't dumb enough to believe it was impossible that he was lying. His mind flashing to the man that bumped into Vlad, and all the various of times they were kept from Bruce, it clicked to Danny. “So you guys were trying to keep us from Bruce?” Danny asked. Steph hummed in awkwardly in response, Duke and Cass not looking at him. So that was a yes. “Why?” “Its just for the best. Hey, you want something good to eat? We can sneak into the kitchen, Alfred won't mind.” Steph asked. “Strangers separated me from my mom and now offering me food.” Danny stated clearly how suspicious they sounded. “That... does sound fishy from outside...” Duke stated, scratching his cheek, still avoiding staring at Danny now. Or trying too. “Pssh. We didn't separate you guys on purpose, just from uh.. Masters and Bruce. I'm sure Jazz and Jason will join us.” Steph explained. “Besides, we're not really strangers. We know you guys from Babs... though if anyone else asked you this please kick them in the nads and run like Hell.” Danny raised a brow, glancing back at the chaos. It beats being stuck with that hell fire. He'll kick Dick later, though he was slightly envious of the man able to just hand on the chandelier. He wish he could just fly off, but Vlad would noticed and Jazz be upset. His stomach growled, seeming to help make the decision for him. “Fine.” He still had the option to disappear if he needed.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Stalker X Stalker, Part 8

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Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo

Tim woke up the next morning, because that’s how things work.

He fought back a groan as he slowly flexed each muscle individually, making sure that everything was still working. To his surprise, it actually was. His brain stuttered to a stop. Why had he been asleep, then? He was pretty sure it wasn’t his usual sleep day…

Then, he finally processed the fact that his face was pressed to something that definitely wasn’t his pillow.

He cracked an eye open. He was laying on top of Marinette, head resting on her stomach. She was still asleep, he noted, one of her hands was thrown over her eyes and the other tangled in his hair.

He vaguely considered just staying there. He could stay in that position forever…

Except he couldn’t. He had responsibilities. He was pretty sure that if he skipped both patrols and work his family would assume he’d been brainwashed in some way.

So, reluctantly, he pushed himself up and reached a hand out to poke Marinette awake.

She grumbled a little and caught his hand, blinking her eyes open. She looked up at him for a moment, uncomprehending in her sleepy state, and he couldn’t help but smile. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead before clambering away from their tangle of limbs so he could take a quick shower and get ready.

First, though, he started up the coffee machine. He’d known that she’d had coffee, he’d been there when she bought it... but, really, if she was worried enough to lie about it he’d at least try and alleviate those fears a little.

That done, he took a quick shower. He already had a towel and toothbrush at the house -- wow, Marinette really wasn’t joking, he had basically moved in already, oops -- so he used those.

Then he pulled on the outfit she’d made him. By the time he needed help lacing up the corset, Marinette had stumbled into the room in a daze.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hello?”

She held out one of two mugs for him and he was forced to hide his smile behind his cup.

“Could you help me with this,” he asked.

She nodded and downed her entire mug before walking behind him. He felt her forehead tip forward to rest against the back of his shoulder as she worked and he was very glad she couldn’t see his face because he was sure that he was beginning to get redder than their costumes.

She pulled the lace tight and tied it off and he had no clue if the tightness in his chest was because she had laced him too tightly or because of nerves but either way he didn’t really mind. He turned back around, pressing another kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll see you later?”

She smiled at him. “I’ll make some bacon for you to eat on the go. Don’t want you to be hungry.”

He considered saying no but, really, he didn’t see her all that often in the morning and he had to admit that it was pretty cute. “If you remember to make some for yourself then sure.”

She hummed a little and turned around to go make food. He’d check on her in a few minutes to make sure she hadn’t fallen back asleep while cooking.

For now, he absently checked his clothes over for bugs. It was an old habit from years of living with the bats and, had he been even slightly more awake, he wouldn’t have done it.

Except he did. And there, hidden in the cuff of his shirt, was a bug.

… he hadn’t even been this happy when Damian had bugged him for the first time. She cared about him and his well-being! He was accepted!

When he made his way back into the kitchen he made sure to give her a long hug.

~

Marinette was so tired. She had been working on attaching the diamonds to Cassandra Wayne’s dress and there were so fucking many.

So, when Robin climbed through her window, all she did was give a vague wave of acknowledgement.

“You need better window locks,” he informed her.

“Most people don’t know how to pick every lock in existence, kid.”

“But some do.”

She thought about whether or not she really wanted this to be the argument that took up valuable work time. The answer was no, definitely not.

She finally turned to face him, resting her cheek against the couch. She didn’t know Damian personally outside of messing with Tim when they were in their superhero identities, she wasn’t even completely sure that this was Damian (though he did match up with the measurements she had for his outfits), so there was no good reason for him to be there.

She squinted suspiciously at him. Now that she was paying attention, she could see that he had his hands behind his back.

“What do you want?”

“I saw on your lease that you are allowed to have pets in your apartment.”

Oh no.

“Please tell me you didn’t,” she whispered, her voice close to begging.

He slowly brought his hands out from behind his back to reveal a black cat with almost luminous green eyes. She rested her head in her hands, taking deep breaths to remain calm.

“I wish to coparent with you.”

“... your dad didn’t let you get another pet?”

(Yes, she knew about the pet problem. She had seen Batcow. She had seen the Batbats all over the cave that he had apparently taken in.)

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Possibly.”

She slowly lifted her head from her hands to glare at him. Unfortunately for her, he puffed out his little baby cheeks in a pout and, even if most of what she did was played up to mess with Tim, she was weak for little kids that look sad.

“Fine. But you’re paying for everything and you better actually help me take care of it.”

“She! And her name is Vanelope!”

“Van --?” She decided she didn’t care. She glanced at Damian’s still disapproving expression and rolled her eyes before leaning down to be at the cat’s eye level: “I’m sorry for calling you an ‘it’, Vanelope.”

He nodded, apparently satisfied by her begrudging apology.

“C’mon, put Vanelope down, we’re going to the pet store.”

Damian beamed. She pulled the front of his hood down over his eyes in retaliation for the dumb situation he’d put her in. Revenge achieved, she transformed and ducked out her window before she could get stabbed.

~

Scarecrow’s parties were always the best.

For one thing, there was the haunted house. Scarecrow took the whole ‘scaring people’ thing very seriously, it was his whole shtick, so you could always count on him to dream up the best haunted houses. Even better, he’d give out brownies laced with minute traces of fear toxin to make the whole thing just a little bit scarier.

Speaking of brownies: the food. Tim was pretty sure that some of the stuff served at the parties could rival the things Marinette and Alfred made.

Then there were the venues he picked. They had to get bigger every year, what with Bruce’s adoption problem and the Rogue’s ever-expanding roster. This year the man had rented out an entire park and the building nearby. The building had a dance floor and a kind of second floor that overlooked everyone. The park held all the people that the building could not.

Add in the fact that every single person was probably clinically insane in some way or another and you’d have the reason for why he was always excited to go.

Tim attended the party as a Red Robin employee. He had to, it was on brand.

Marinette raised her eyebrows when she saw him. She’d gotten there before him, which had been a little bit of a surprise. He’d thought she’d at least wait for a few vigilantes to come to make sure it was safe --.

Oh. Nevermind. He stifled a grin when his eyes landed on a blonde in an outfit he recognized as Cassie’s. He was pretty sure dressing up as Wonder Girl was betraying the bats but he wasn’t going to be the one to call Steph out on it. Cassie was pretty cool...

Cassie -- no, Steph -- was suddenly grabbed by the arm by an excited Marinette and pulled her over to him. Marinette was wearing a pirate costume and he suspected that the bottle of wine in her free hand was more than an accessory.

“Red Robin, yum~,” both women chorused.

He rolled his eyes. “They’ve infected you already. Soon you’ll be disappearing into the shadows without ending conversations.”

Marinette grinned, the corner of her mask (now tinted black in some places to mimic a pirate’s beard) twitching. “It’s about time you assholes got a taste of your own medicine.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Y’know, for someone who didn’t like the idea of the party before, you sure did get into your outfit.’

“Please, I put effort into all my outfits.”

“Except for the Ladybug one,” teased Steph.

She huffed. “I was on a time crunch --.”

Tim grinned. “That’s no excuse.”

“... you had thought about it for who knows how long and not only did you come up with the name Drake, but you also came up with an ugly brown outfit. You don’t get a say in this.”

Steph grinned. “And me?”

“Your outfits are okay,” said Marinette after a few second’s thought.

Tim gasped in mock offense. “And I thought we were friends.”

“Friends call each other out for their stupid fashion choices.”

Steph smirked and slung her arm around Marinette’s shoulders. “And, really, you need an intervention.”

When did they start ganging up on Tim?

“Whatever. This outfit is nice, so that makes up for all past mistakes.”

“It’d be nicer if you didn’t make the same joke every year,” Steph teased.

He huffed and pouted, but then something caught his eyes. Dick had arrived, Tim could see him perched on a second floor railing in his work clothes… of course, the name tag marking him as Nurse Grayson was gone, but it was still the same light blue scrubs.

He paled a little under his domino for two reasons. The first was the instantaneous worry about their identities; sure, Gotham had many medical workers, but who knows, Gotham and Bludhaven twitter both insisted that Dick had a very distinct body. The second was Marinette was going to end up liking Dick quite a lot -- she already looked up to him for his fighting style, there was no way she was going to be able to resist the signature Grayson charm that had won over every superhero, vigilante, and villain on Earth (and a few other planets as well).

He knew that, inevitably, Dick would win her over… but he was definitely going to stall it as much as he possibly could.

So, he pulled a grin to his face. “Oh, Ladybug, you haven’t gone in the haunted house yet, have you?”

She gave him a slightly wary look. “I don’t do good with scary things.”

He grinned. “I’ll protect you.”

She raised her eyebrows slightly before sighing. “Fine.”

So, they made their way across the park to the haunted house. Scarecrow had, somehow, built an entire house in the one month since he had broken out of Arkham. It looked like it had been torn right out of a video game, with the blackened, decaying, and peeling wood and rickety steps.

Jonathan Crane smiled when he saw the two of them approaching. He was dressed as a scarecrow, but the one from the Wizard of Oz instead of the creepy one he was usually dressed as.

“Crane!” Tim greeted.

Crane held out the plate of fear toxin brownies for them. “Nice to see you, Red Robin. And nice to meet you, Ladybug.”

Marinette blushed a little, her head tipping to the side. “I’d shake your hand but you haven’t set down that tray the entire time I’ve been here. Starting to think you can’t.”

He laughed a little. “I appreciate the sentiment.”

Tim smiled a little and popped a brownie in his mouth. Fear toxin tasted a lot like chili powder and, he had to admit, it was pretty good.

Marinette took a brownie with a lot more hesitance.

“Oh! Have you been exposed to fear toxin yet?” Asked Crane before she could take a bite.

Marinette looked a little worried about the use of the word ‘yet’.

Marinette shook her head, though. “No.”

“Then your immunity isn’t built up. I’d suggest just eating half of that.”

She nodded thoughtfully and broke the brownie in half. She held the halves in her hand awkwardly, unsure what to do now.

“I’ll take the half you haven’t eaten,” suggested Crane.

He set down the tray -- Tim swore he could hear a cartoon sound effect as the man struggled to unstick his hand to the metal -- and took her other half.

“Since it’s a lower dose it’ll probably take longer to take effect,” said Tim. “We’ll have to wait a bit so you can have the full experience.”

Marinette took a tentative bite and her eyes lit up. “This is really good. What’s your recipe?”

Apparently, Crane had once tried to replicate the taste with normal chili powder and had fallen short. Tim watched the two of them theorize what it could be that his attempts had been missing. It was clear that Marinette had missed living in a bakery more than she was willing to admit and, unfortunately, none of the bats were particularly good at even cooking basic meals, let alone the kinds of things she was able to do. Alfred was the only exception and, even then, Bruce wouldn’t let him near her most of the time because of Identity Reasons. Tim was glad that she had someone to talk to about it, he just kinda wished that that person wasn’t a Rogue.

Tim jolted out of watching them when Marinette started rubbing up and down her arms absently. Ah, the toxin must be setting in for her now.

“Ladybug, ready to head inside?”

She blinked and looked up from the conversation. “Oh. Sure. I’ll talk to you later!”

“I’ll try not to get thrown into Arkham by anyone else while you’re gone,” joked Crane.

Tim grinned and took Marinette’s hand, pulling her inside.

It turns out she actually wasn’t all that good with scary things. Or, at least, jumpscares. She clung to his arm, dull nails doing their best to dig into his skin.

On one hand, he kind of felt bad for telling her to come along. On the other hand he thought it was kind of cute, maybe the next movie they watched together could be a horror.

He would probably be able to enjoy it a little more if he wasn’t tripping out on fear toxin himself. There was a creepy little girl following them around and he wasn’t going to acknowledge her and her creepy little white clothes because talking to hallucinations is always bad.

But then, towards the end, she disappeared.

He didn’t like that either. It set him on edge. It shouldn’t, the fear toxin was just wearing off… but he didn’t feel like it was wearing off. He was still a little shaky and the buzzing under his skin was still present, so maybe she’d been real and something was up.

He got his answer when he heard the sound of little feet dashing overhead.

Marinette squeaked and her grip on his arm tightened, somehow.

When the end was in sight and Tim was waiting anxiously for the final scare, he heard someone running towards them. High pitched laughter echoed around them.

“Oh fuck no,” he yelped when he saw the little girl running towards them, arms outstretched, pretty white dress splattered with red.

Marinette seemed to agree with the sentiment. She nearly pulled his arm out of its socket as she pushed herself into a sprint. He stumbled awkwardly a few steps before catching his footing and returning the tight grip.

And then, like the vigilantes with nerves of steel they were, they ran from the child.

~

She tried to look calm when the door swung shut behind them. She was pretty good at managing her emotions, she thought (or, at least, good at pushing them down).

But it wasn’t necessary because, when they reached the safety of the outside, they were handed a framed picture of them sprinting away from the creepy little girl, horror written plainly on their faces.

She blushed, more than a little embarrassed.

Thankfully, she was quickly distracted from her embarrassment. Her eyes landed on Bruce, who was dressed as a vampire. She waved for his attention, intending to point out the similarities in their outfits to mess with him, only for his eyes to zero in on the wine bottle in her hand.

Marinette mumbled a curse.

She turned and pressed a ‘kiss’ to Tim’s cheek through her mask. “Gotta go,” she chirped, before promptly disappearing into the crowd.

Alright, time to avoid Bruce. Where is the last place she’d be? Actually, no, he’d probably check the last place...

Her eyes landed on where Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn were hanging out by the drinks.

Hm... a negative (people she was wary about) and a positive (drinks!) to balance each other out. A good middle ground.

She walked over and picked up a weird drink with a lot of different candies sticking out of it. She did not know why Scarecrow felt the need to sully the good name of alcohol with American candies but, since it was apparently the only option, she slipped a straw under her mouth to drink.

The drink was taken from her fingers.

She looked at her now-empty hand, brain struggling to catch up, straw hanging limply from her mouth. Then she spat out the straw and cursed.

She slowly turned to look at the person who had stolen it from her, expecting to see a disappointed Bruce, only to meet eyes with Poison Ivy.

(Ivy had dressed up as a stereotypical martian. Marinette wondered, vaguely, if actual aliens were ever offended when people dressed up like the movie versions of them.)

“I’d like that back, thanks,” she said, reaching for the drink.

She held it out of reach -- holy shit she was tall -- and raised an unimpressed eyebrow at her. “You’re a child.”

“I’m nineteen.”

“Exactly: a child,” she said.

Marinette rolled her eyes. Was this how Damian felt? Damn, no wonder he was always so angry about it… but, to be fair, Damian actually was a child. She was nineteen. She had a job and an apartment. Completely different.

But, since convincing Ivy she wasn’t a child wasn’t working, she had to come up with a new approach: “I’ve been drinking since I was six.”

For some reason, this didn’t seem to soothe the woman in front of her.

Thankfully, Harley Quinn -- who was wearing a knockoff Riddler costume -- decided to take pity on her: “Let her drink, Ives, Europeans drink differently than we do.”

Marinette and Poison Ivy exchanged confused looks. Marinette hadn’t gone out drinking with anyone properly in America outside of occasionally dropping into bars to trick old men into giving her drinks and then disappearing. Poison Ivy just, apparently, wasn’t aware of the difference.

“For them it’s a social thing, they don’t really get drunk like we do.”

Ivy hesitated. “You don’t get drunk?”

“I mean… we can get drunk,” she said slowly. She cringed visibly. “I did, once. The day I turned eighteen my mom told me ‘Just this once, to see what it’s like’... the pictures… they deleted them, but I will never live it down...”

She reached for the drink again and, this time, Ivy gave it to her. She was lucky she had her mask to hide the smirk on her face.

When Poison Ivy didn’t leave after that, Marinette knit her eyebrows together. The woman blushed (she blushed green?) and Harley pushed her towards Marinette a step.

“I would like to apologize for how we met…” Ivy said slowly. “Joker was an asshole in Arkham and I’d had a fight with Harley and I guess I just…” She snapped her fingers.

Marinette raised her eyebrows. “It’s fine. It’s not the first world-ending event I’ve had to stop because someone had had a bad day.”

Harley hesitated. “That’s… different.”

She shrugged. “New city, same shit… just sometimes easier, I guess. People are actually scared of Joker?”

“Now, that isn’t very nice!” Said a painfully cheery voice behind her.

She’d summoned him.

Marinette took a long, deep breath, before turning around to greet Joker and Punchline. They were dressed as circus clowns, because of course they would. “Hey! Still alive, I see.”

Joker smiled, like he always did. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Pretty sure you’ve died more than B-man over there,” said Harley.

“No clue why they keep bringing you back.”

Marinette’s eyebrows scrunched together. The man had died? And they had brought him back? Willingly? Weird.

“It’s ‘cause I’m Batsy’s favorite,” cooed Joker.

“Favorite punching bag, maybe,” said Ivy.

Marinette, wisely, decided to back up a step so she wasn’t between the two fighting groups.

“At least people pick him as their first choice,” said Punchline.

“You’d be the expert on what it’s like to be the second choice, I guess, since you’re just me but purple,” said Harley.

“I’m you but self-aware,” Punchline corrected her.

Ivy raised her eyebrows. “Some would say that’s worse.”

Punchline almost punched her.

She didn’t stop because of some amazing show of self-restraint, of course. Nightwing had just chosen that moment to drop down between the two groups. And then Nightwing, with his all-amazing powers of getting pretty much everyone on his side, got them to declare a truce and go to opposite sides of the room.

Marinette was a little disappointed as she took a sip of her drink. It had just started getting good.

But also: Nightwing!

“Is it true that you can do a quadruple somersault?”

Nightwing smiled widely.

~

Tim was beginning to think that maybe Marinette was so interested in Dick because she was secretly his long lost sister or something. They had the same ability to make even some of the worst people like them.

But, no. Dick having a secret half sister or something? How stupid would that be?

Still, Tim had seen her making friends with: all of his siblings that lived in Gotham, Scarecrow, Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Dick (damn it, he’d hoped he could keep them apart just a little longer)... the only people she hadn’t gotten to like her were Punchline and Joker, and even then she was choosing to annoy them, who knows what would happen if she actually tried to befriend them… and now she was hanging out with Riddler...

He sat next to them on their bench. “I’m beginning to think you can’t make friends with anyone normal.”

She grinned. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

Riddler (dressed as the gameshow host he would probably be if he hadn’t gone off the deep end) looked over at Tim with barely hidden disdain. “Red Robin,” he greeted coolly.

Marinette frowned. “Why don’t you like him?”

“Him and all the bats… they always answer my riddles before I finish telling them.”

“Well, that’s an easy fix: Red, wait until he finishes telling the riddles before answering.”

He scoffed. “Why would I?”

“For the drama!” Riddler said in a tone that made it obvious he thought it was obvious.

“Half the time you have people’s lives on the line. Lower the stakes and maybe we’ll be more attuned to the dramatic tension.”

Riddler scowled. “You bats just don’t appreciate my art.”

“You’d think that they’d be all for drama.”

“Right? They have a whole brooding cave! But I want high stakes and suddenly I’m too concerned with the vibes of things.”

Marinette grinned and leaned towards Riddler conspiratorially. “They have more than a brooding cave. They have brooding gargoyles, brooding rooftops, brooding cars… I once caught Red over there brooding on his motorbike. Who can brood on a motorcycle? It’s a motorcycle!”

Tim huffed. “I thought we agreed to keep that a secret.”

“Sorry, darling, it’s just too easy to mess with you.”

Tim started to respond, but then he realized something.

‘Darling’?

That could mean one of three things. He needed to excuse himself from the conversation to figure out which was the truth.

He sent the two of them a halfhearted glare. “I will not put up with this bullying any longer.”

“Fine, fine. If you’re going to come back, bring me a cookie.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “If I must.”

With that, he turned on his heel and strode off, a man on a mission.

After questioning all of the family she had talked to (she had yet to meet Jason, apparently), he determined that she didn’t use nicknames all that often. When she did it was usually just to make things quicker for herself. The only people outside of him that she ever used nicknames for were Bruce (‘B’) and maybe Damian (‘kid’).

And he had a nickname like that, too, of course. She called him ‘Red’ from time to time, probably just because she was too lazy to go through the hassle of saying his entire codename.

… but ‘darling’ was different. He had a pet name. In both identities, apparently.

Which meant one of two things:

a) he was special to her in both identities

or b) she knew he was Red Robin.

He was kinda hoping for the first one, but he wasn’t about to let emotions cloud his judgement. He sought out the world’s only accurate lie detector.

He found her surveying the crowd with Jason. They looked like they’d been transported directly from the renaissance, with her plague doctor outfit and his Shakespeare costume.

Tim grinned at them despite his slight anxiety. “Nice of you to bring a Green Arrow costume back from Star City, Flamebird.”

Jason touched the ugly goatee and mustache that both of them shared before sending him a glare. “And you all wonder why I don’t come home more often.”

“Really? I thought it was because you and Roy were --.”

Jason’s face reddened with either anger or embarrassment, Tim didn’t know and didn’t particularly care as his brother left them in a huff.

He couldn’t see Cass’s face but he could feel the disapproval.

“I just… I wanted to ask you something in private…”

Cass didn’t leave, so he assumed it was okay.

“Does Ladybug know our identities?”

Cass was motionless for a moment and he wished she didn’t have such a bulky outfit because it was hard to get a read on her…

And then she nodded, tapping the side of her forehead (the sign for ‘know’) to further emphasize the point.

He looked down at where Marinette was excitedly describing something to an enthused Riddler.

He’d been anxious about her finding out but, now that she had, he found that it was a huge weight off his shoulders. She knew who he was and she accepted it.

He leaned against the railing, a smile threatening to make its way across his face.

She accepted him.

[absentlyabbie]

family and (mis)fortune

or, tommy merlyn accidentally part-time joins the batfam

hello, please enjoy and have mercy, pretty much all of my batfam knowledge is informed either by batman: the animated series or tumblr posts. be gentle with me, i know so little about jason todd, i’m doing my best

this meta developed over whatsaspp in messages to @andyouweremine, @acheaptrickandacheesyoneline, and @storiesofimagination

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Just a fun little notion to mull over: Malcolm Merlyn dies/disappears (hallelujah) in the two years after his wife’s death and leaving his child behind. Accident and happenstance bring Tommy Merlyn, orphan, to the attention of Bruce Wayne. And thus Tommy becomes a part time foster sibling to the batfam

(lol the above was supposed to be it, the end, literally the entire whole thing, but then all the rest happened)

Like. Say Bruce (probably he knew Rebecca?) takes over custody of Tommy. For the sake of the boy and his clear attachment to the Queens, especially Oliver, Bruce has Tommy enrolled as a boarding student at Starling Academy. So the boys still get to spend the school year together, and sometimes in the summer or over holidays Oliver visits in Gotham

And Tommy is pretty much just a part time addition to the Bruce Wayne orphans-who-eerily-resemble-me collection, so it’s several years before he catches on even a little to what Bruce and older foster brother Dick get up to after dark

But eventually he DOES find out. And maybe he doesn’t suit up too, but Bruce can’t have one of his kids knowing about Batman and not prepared to protect himself so he gets a lot of the same training

(Meanwhile Tommy grows up with siblings and a father figure(s)—heyyy Alfred—who show him care and don’t abuse him. And maybe even therapy. But also he gets to maintain his closeness to Oliver and even Thea because he still spends most of the year in Starling)

As a better adjusted dude all around Tommy is probably a moderately better influence on Oliver. Like he can’t change everything but maybe things are mitigated. Then the gambit still goes down (probably Malcolm didn’t actually die after all? He just went deep into the league or whatever and continued to influence things in Starling towards the Undertaking from the shadows?)

In the wake of that Tommy moves to Starling full time and insists to everyone including Bruce that Oliver is still alive etc etc. he doesn’t give up hope (although also maybe he doesn’t get involved with Laurel? Maybe.) and then Oliver actually comes back

More or less most of canon stuff goes on except now you have a Tommy who eats breakfast casually with Batman and multiple Robins and has training and has been inside the Batcave and knows what it looks like when someone he loves is not doing a great job of a) hiding how deeply traumatized they are and b) concealing their vigilante side gig

(@acheaptrickandacheesyoneline contributed: "Oliver, you need to get better excuses"

"Excuses for what?"

"Like that. Right there"

To which i responded: “Look I know the reckless playboy thing seems like an awesome cover story at first but trust me, if you don’t balance it right it just makes everything more work than it’s worth”)

Bruce calling Tommy ostensibly just to check in with his foster son but non-covertly actually sniffing around about this murderous new vigilante in Starling

Tommy very awkwardly and transparently lying that he has no idea who it could possibly be

Tommy tries to crack bad jokes about how he just seems to attract cape and cowl types to wherever he lives and Bruce heaving the longest sigh on record because Tommy and Dick really are way too similar for Bruce’s mental health

Also in this headcanon Bruce was definitely like early 20s when he took in Dick so he was like maaayyybe 27 when he took in Tommy. Putting him younger than 40 or just over at time of Oliver’s return. So Bruce is like barely older than Diggle

Okay my math wasn’t great. So if Dick is a few years older than Tommy and Oliver and Bruce adopted him at like 22, let’s say Bruce is 24 when Rebecca dies and Tommy is 8... 26 when he takes custody of Tommy... which means he’s actually like 43 at time of Oliver coming back from the dead (subject to change, i’m bad at math!)

The way I picture it is that Bruce knew Rebecca (maybe their families knew each other??) and went to her funeral, where he observed the lost looking, clearly devastated eight year old that widower Malcolm was too busy brooding furiously to attend to. Bruce never liked Malcolm. They’d met a few times over the years and he always thought Rebecca could have done better. Malcolm always stuck Bruce as oily and shark eyed. Something cold and hungry under the surface of his charming facade. But Rebecca seemed happy with him so it wasn’t his business

That boy though. The image of that grieving boy, his whole world snatched away and not even a kindly butler to hold his hand at the graveside, that stays with Bruce, nags at him. He checks up on the remaining Merlyns from a distance after returning to Gotham. He’s unsettled and unhappy when he learns Malcolm has run off, leaving his young son behind with some hired help and power of attorney vested in his friend Robert Queen. He follows the situation for two years. When Malcolm returns he’s hopeful Tommy’s life will go better than Bruce’s did, but Malcolm only leaves again all too soon. And then he disappears. His plane goes down or something (who even cares as long as Malcolm is gone-zo, pfft bye bitch). And Tommy is truly alone, an orphan in name as well as circumstance now

Bruce knows there’s no other family to claim Tommy. He knows the boy is staying with the Queens at the moment, that Robert has guardianship, but it’s also apparent they’re in no rush to formalize the situation to anything more permanent. Bruce decides to go to Starling himself and see what will become of Tommy

It’s immediately obvious the Queens are a mess. Infidelity and fighting and periodic separation between Moira and Robert. Moira is just recently pregnant. And she seems anxious and uneasy about Tommy. Even as she does seem to care about him, she also seems determined to keep him at arm’s length. However it’s just as obvious that despite all this, Tommy and the Queen boy might as well be brothers for as close as they are

It’s clearly not an ideal situation. Bruce being Bruce decides he’s just gonna fix things. But when Moira catches wind of it she goes oddly protective and it leads to a face off between the two of them. Moira hits Bruce about being too young, unmarried, having no prior relationship with Tommy, living so far from everything Tommy knows. 

Bruce hits back with brutal truths, the killing blow that Moira clearly has no intention of making Tommy part of her own family. Robert may have slightly more ground to stand on, but ultimately they all know that if the Queen marriage falls apart, it’s not Robert who would take custody of Tommy in the aftermath of another family disintegration

And so with the cooperation of Moira and Robert and a lot of money, Bruce becomes Tommy’s legal guardian and works out with the Queens an arrangement that has Tommy in boarding at the same school Oliver attends and charges Moira and Robert to act in loco parentis for daily or immediate matters. Moira will eventually unclench and let Tommy connect easily with Oliver and even Thea, because with Malcolm gone she doesn’t have that fear about her baby girl and her secret half brother putting her family at risk

And then @storiesofimagination was sad that there would be less Thea/Tommy sibling shenanigans in this AU, to which I said:

Oh but there will still be plenty of that! Because Tommy spends most of his school years largely in Starling and a lottttt of time at the Queen home. And Moira isn’t as uneasy about Tommy adoring Thea and vice versa because with Malcolm gone/presumed dead she’s less worried about her indiscretion being exposed

So @andyouweremine asked if Dick and Oliver get along

Dick is a few years older than Tommy and Oliver so he probably didn’t spend loads of time with them during Oliver’s visits? Not none though. Tommy thinks Dick is absurdly cool so Oliver might have been a little bit jealous but also thinks Dick is cool. Dick almost definitely thrives on the fact that living human beings think he is cool

But yeah. Dick. Dick is probably weird about Tommy at first. Is this a threat? A rival? Nope it’s a shy goofy kid who thinks Dick is way funnier than Bruce does and looks up to him and he’s only around for holidays and summers so he’s the best part time little brother ever

They get on like a house on fire probably. So many bad jokes. So many. Bruce probably hides from the puns down in the Batcave even when there’s no mission because Dick can either hang out with Tommy or annoy Bruce in the super secret crime fighting lair but not both

Tommy loves the hell out of Alfred. He’s like Raisa, only Tommy gets to keep him

Alfred is just pleased to have a charge he doesn’t have to semi regularly do sutures for

If we’re going full batfam, Tommy and Jason probably can’t stand each other most of the time, but it’s mostly because Jason is extremely prickly and acts out wildly (younger days, obv)

Years later when Tim arrives on the scene, Tommy delights in being the older brother at last. They don’t have tons in common but they get along well enough

AND THEN, because @andyouweremine campaigned to ship Tommy/Dick because both Tommy Merlyn and Dick Grayson are as bi as they come:

Tommy would absolutely have the world’s most awkward crush on Dick at least in his teens. He so would though. Dick would probably be his bisexual awakening. Oliver would get sick of hearing about it. Tommy just looks up one day at like 14-15 while Dick is tooling around the house doing dumb acrobatic impressive-feats-of-athletic-dumbassery and there’s all those taut muscles and a flash of rock hard abs and suddenly Tommy needs to go to his bunk excuse himself to his bedroom to freak out privately that apparently he also likes boys now and ugh WHY THIS ONE

(later in life he’ll somewhat bitterly lament that his type seems to be “taboo.” probably he mentions this to Jason when they are both adults and sharing a beer and doing some extremely rare bonding, and Jason shoots him one hell of a side eye like “Please tell me you’re not into underage girls because I will kill you and I won’t feel bad.”

And Tommy barks a mortified laugh and says “No. Jesus Christ, no, I mean people—adult people!—that I should stay away from, because I should know better or they’d never be into me or, uh,” sweating nervously, hoping his face isn’t telegraphing DICK GRAYSON  or OLIVER QUEEN to someone trained by the actual Batman, “other reasons.”)

And you know, Tommy probably doesn’t find out about his foster dad and foster brother being Batman and Robin until he’s like 16-17. So right before Dick stops being Robin/Jason arrives on scene

Not telling Oliver about kills him

And he’s probably torn between reactions. Excited/in awe that his found family are actual superheroes. A little self conscious and insecure that his found family are superheroes but he’s just... him. Stressed that Bruce and Dick are regularly putting themselves in danger. A little off balance and hurt because Bruce Dick and Alfred have all been keeping this secret from him for years

Eventually he knows why they didn’t tell him. Because it’s so hard not to tell Oliver. He doesn’t actually want to brag to the world and he’s not dumb enough to just accidentally give it away, but not telling Oliver is excruciating, and Oliver can probably tell there’s something Tommy is hiding from him all of a sudden. 

It probably puts a new and awful strain on their relationship, but Tommy finally puts the words together to beg Oliver to understand that he has to keep someone else’s secret. That it’s important and not his to tell and that that’s the only reason he wouldn’t tell Oliver something. Things are still stiff for a little while but Oliver accepts it eventually. Especially after Tommy likens it to how just because Tommy has told Oliver he’s bi it wouldn’t be okay for Oliver to tell somebody else Tommy was bi without Tommy’s permission

And so, after Tommy finds out that he’s part of the actual batfam, Bruce makes him train. Not to take up a mask but to be prepared to protect himself if what he now knows were ever to endanger him

Tommy actually doesn’t want to take up a mask. He’s never been a big “family business” guy, even if he did intern at Wayne enterprises last summer

The strain of keeping Bruce’s secret from Oliver was bad enough. Tommy can’t imagine keeping it secret from Oliver if that same secret was his own

(After all, Tommy may have interned at Wayne enterprises but so did Oliver. He stayed with the Waynes the whole summer and Bruce was never more stressed out in his life over things not directly related to costumed villainy)

--

@memcjo @klaus-hargreeves-katz @its-a-pygmy-puffle @keabbs @princesssarcastia @obscure-sentimentalist

[ambiengrey]

death

This takes place in the cartoon Young Justice universe.

Jason had been prattling on about this to anyone who would lend him half an ear, for weeks.

From the boys and girls in charge of make-up and costume to design, to the choreographers and script-writers, to the teacher in charge of production and back again – he had several stories to tell about each of them and their process; a new one after every rehearsal. To the point where Bruce had to ask Jason which department he was in, because it sounded like he was part of every one.

He’d paused, and rubbed the back of his neck, and blushed, and grinned, “Oh! I’m acting,” after which he’d immediately gone into a story about his “co-stars” and how excited they all were.

In all the time he’d regaled them with his theatre tales – of whom Alfred was eventually the only one who could stand to listen for more than twenty minutes, much to Bruce’s shame, but alas – he’d absolutely refused to say what they were performing, or the role he’d been cast in.

“It’s a surprise,” he’d insisted.

Two weeks before their performance invitations had gone out and at least now, they knew what the play was going to be, and the general theme of it.

Jason was delighted to share more information, but Bruce and Dick had claimed not wanting to be spoiled, and Jason had, pouting, been forced to silence.

“Okay, this isn’t a spoiler,” he was saying now, hands gesticulating as he spoke, “Because you’ve already read the book, but just so you know – we’re doing a lot of the original stuff with this. Like – Peter, killing off the Lost Boys,” he said, dropping his voice conspiratorially even though they were alone in the hallway. “Because it had to be scary, for Halloween.”

“Of course,” Bruce said agreeably, equally quiet.

“But you’ll never believe what happens after that, or by the end – we had to ‘up’ the scare-factor, after all. And yeah, it’s probably really stupid and a disgrace to literature in general, but…this is high school, I guess,” he shrugged, like it couldn’t be helped.

“Naturally,” Bruce said. “So, what role will you be playing, then?”

“I’ll be—” Jason started, but cut himself off abruptly. “—oh, nice try,” he said instead, a suspicious little quiver in his voice, and he jabbed at Bruce’s arm. “But I’m not telling you; it’s a sur-prise,” he enunciated slowly and firmly, giving Bruce a meaningful look. The quiver had gone.

Bruce chuckled good-naturally. Trying to trick Jason into revealing his part in the play had become a competition between Bruce and Dick – and Alfred, and eventually the Team, and even Diana (Bruce isn’t entirely certain Jason hadn’t caved and told her, actually) – besides which, it had served as a good deterrent against Jason’s theatre talk continuing on too long, less someone try and catch him slipping up. He’d been making Alfred nostalgic, and Bruce didn’t know how much longer he could listen to Alfred reminisce.

“Well,” Bruce patted Jason on the back, “I tried.”

They fell into a seemingly comfortable silence as they continued down corridors towards the school’s theatre hall, but, after a short while, Jason lagged behind, and stopped.

Bruce stopped as well, turning around, “Jay?”

Jason stood with his head bowed, fingers fidgeting.

His mood had changed so unexpectedly, Bruce had to take a quick, surreptitious breath, to keep him calm. Dealing with Jason was a difficult endeavour for Bruce, who was, somehow, prone to saying the wrong thing more often than not. On occasion, he’d gone so far as to ask Clark – who had arguably no experience raising a son, since he and Conner had decided they were rather brothers instead – of all people, for advice.

Bruce approached, settling a hopefully comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Pre-performance jitters?”

Jason shook his head, “No, no; it’s…nothing like that.”

“Alright…” Bruce said slowly. “Something else on your mind, then…?”

“Um…yeah,” Jason mumbled, and touched at Bruce’s sleeve. “Can…we talk?”

“Jason,” Bruce squeezed his shoulder, caught slightly off-guard by the boy’s hesitation. “Of course, kiddo.”

“Okay,” Jason breathed, and slipped out from under his hand, pulling Bruce along by the edge of his sleeve, into a stairwell and onto the first landing before he let go.

Bruce stood with a fair view of the hallway they’d come from, and the ascending stairs. Jason took a step or two up and clutched at the railing as he faced Bruce.

“I… don’t want you to be mad,” he started.

Bruce had already repeated their earlier conversation in his head three times, looking for some indication of what he might have said to have triggered Jason’s change in demeanour, but he’d come up empty.

“Or… disappointed,” Jason added bitterly.

Bruce shifted his feet; uneasy and unsure of how to respond.

Jason glanced up at him briefly, and Bruce hoped he’d smoothed the frown from his face quick enough. He didn’t want Jason to think he was glaring at him.

“Okay, so,” Jason started again, “I’m Peter,” he looked up, eyes wary and expectant. “In the play…” he trailed off.

“Alright…” Bruce said, uncertainly, and leaned forward to whisper, half-smiling to try and lighten the mood, “Why am I privy to this information all of a sudden?”

“Because—Peter murders the Lost Boys, and I’m…Peter,” Jason explained uneasily. “And I don’t want you to be mad—”

“Jason,” Bruce cut in, gripping the banister as he came closer. “It’s a play.”

“I know, but—”

“It isn’t real—”

“I know that,” Jason nearly snapped, sounding exasperated, and Bruce thought he’d said the wrong thing again. “It’s just that, after what happened—”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Bruce interjected, knowing what Jason was referring to and not wanting him to finish the sentence. Bruce thought he had a vague idea of where this was headed, and he didn’t like it. He might have said more if he knew how exactly to continue, or Jason’s face didn’t suddenly look so startled.

“What?”

“You haven’t said that to me before,” Jason answered, hushed, almost awed, as if this was the first time it even occurred to him—

“It—” was implied, Bruce almost said, but stopped – that would definitely be the wrong thing to say. “You said it was an accident,” he said instead, “I believed you.”

“You—

“You believed me?” Jason questioned, sounding caught somewhere between incredulity and frustration. “Bruce. You hardly acknowledged me. You benched me; sent me to Dinah, and avoided me for a week!”

Bruce glanced sideways at the hallway, one hand raised, placating, before he tried to explain, “I was not—avoiding you,” he kept his voice carefully levelled. At least Jason hadn’t raised his above an angry whisper.

“Well, that’s what it felt like,” Jason countered.

“…I was working the case,” Bruce said, and continued before Jason could add something and make him feel guiltier. “As for benching you, and your appointments with Dinah—” for a moment he considered asking if Dick had not explained that, but then changed his mind. “You had a traumatic experience – not just watching a man fall while you could do nothing to save him,” Jason shifted his weight, not looking up, but Bruce ploughed through, “Not to mention the victim right before—”

“Gloria,” Jason whispered.

“Yes. Gloria. The case as a whole was taking its toll on you, Jay,” Bruce heaved a heavy sigh, eyes landing on his feet as he admitted, “It’s cases like those that make me question letting you kids into this life.”

“I’m not a kid anymore,” Jason said defiantly, however quiet.

“I know…” Bruce said, looking up again. “I made you see Dinah, because I thought you’d need someone to talk to about what you’d been through.”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Jason said, and when he looked at Bruce, his eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

Bruce swallowed thickly, “I’m no good at talking…” he said gently. It was different with Jason – especially after this incident. With Dick, Bruce could claim some training exercise or another, and spend time with him for a few hours – or a few days. Sometimes that, and almost never a full-length conversation, was enough to get him forgiven.

But Jason, more often than not, responded better to verbal reassurance. Grandiose gestures often overwhelmed and embarrassed him. There was no good way to explain that Bruce could not have communicated well on this issue, because he had been struggling with whether or not to believe his adopted son had in fact shoved a man off a balcony to his death – and subsequently lied about it. Or, attempted and failed to save him.

Or, chose not to attempt at all.

“You could have tried…” Jason replied.

If Jason spoke to Dinah, Bruce had reasoned, he could receive more professional help in dealing with his trauma than Bruce could provide, and, Bruce could drown in the ignorant belief of his son’s innocence that came with taking the boy at his word without investigating or thinking about it further.

As opposed to treating every shared thought and feeling of Jason’s as a fact of the case; analysing, judging and questioning it – and Jason – endlessly.

“You’re right…” Bruce admitted. “I could have,” he shook his head regrettably. With encouragement from Dick, who had handled the situation a lot better than Bruce (naturally), Alfred and the Team, Jason had joined the theatre group. “I should have,” he added, and stepped closer. Bruce had thought showing an interest would be enough. He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “I will, from now on,” he hadn’t expected it to haunt Jason for this long. “I promise, Jason. I’m sorry.”

Jason ducked his head, hiding an embarrassed smile and wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. He looked back up, “You really believed me…?”

“Yes,” Bruce said firmly. If any doubts had lingered, he was banishing them immediately.

Jason lurched forward, swinging his arms around Bruce’s middle and hiding his face against his chest. “Thanks…” he mumbled.

Bruce wrapped his arm about the boy’s shoulders and squeezed, “Of course, Jay.”

“So…if I wanted to talk to you…?”

“Anytime,” Bruce promised. “About anything,” he let go, and Jason stepped back, as he added, “And, I’m not mad about the play.”

Jason smiled, however briefly, “I’d never—”

Bruce ruffled his hair, clutched his shoulder. “I know.”

“I don’t think the play can start without you, Jay!” a voice called from below – Dick.

“Right,” Jason said, and slipped around Bruce and down the stairs. “I’ll go on ahead, okay? You can find your seats?”

“’Course,” Dick said easily – by which he probably meant Alfred already had – hands on his hips, smile on his face.

“Okay,” Jason trotted on one spot, and then sprinted down the hall, narrowly avoiding Dick catching him for a headlock, but not escaping a hair-ruffle in passing. He laughed, sounding only almost too much like Robin.

Bruce came down slowly, debating whether or not to ask Dick how much he’d heard.

“You’re late,” he said instead.

“Mission ran late,” Dick shrugged.

“Any mishaps?”

“How bout I tell you after?” Dick suggested, clapping Bruce on the back and basically steering him along.

“Fair enough,” Bruce agreed. After a moment, he said, “You owe me a twenty.”

“No!” Dick exclaimed. “He told you who he is?”

Bruce chuckled, “He did.”

“It’s Peter, isn’t it?” Dick asked, bouncing in his step.

Bruce only shook his head, “I’m not telling you.”

“Twenty bucks says he is.”

“I’m not betting with you anymore.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’ve already won.”

“Rub it in.”

“I am.”

“…B?”

“Hm?”

“You’re good, right?”

“…Yes, Dick. We’re good.”

October 30th: Death.