#They only know what Bruce told them but when the Question comes forward with the evidence from his OWN investigation?

[transparentgayprotector]

To get back at him all Danny has to do is find proof that Bruce is Batman and out him to all his Rouges and the world.

Then disappear after making sure that everyone believed it and couldn't brush it off.

The one where Bruce is the asshole (again)

So! We have a typical story where the JLA finds out about the Situation in Amity.

Whichever way they find out doesn't matter, but either way they end up sending Batman to do a threat analysis and review of whether this requires their attention.

And while there, he runs into a Kid who obviously needs to be saved from his Abusive Home. Look at him, he's far too thin, his grades are horrible, he has many unexcused absences, and he has bruises hidden under his clothes.

Even after figuring out that Danny is Phantom the local Hero, he thinks Danny needs to be saved from his Parents.

I mean, it's plain to see! They Hates Ghosts with a Passion, negelct their son very often, shoot at him nearly every day, and are probably the ones who killed him in the first place!

So, with no input from Danny himself, Bruce calls CPS on the Fentons and uses his Wealth to expedite the process and avoid the actual Investigation. (I mean, why would you even need one? It's so obviously a bad home!)

The Fenton's are arrested, and Bruce reveals that Danny is Phantom to convince the Courts that they are horrible people for shooting at their own son, and that they should be locked up (ignoring the horrified looks on their faces, probably cause they were living with a Ghost for so long, thats probably why).

He immediately offers to adopt Danny, even when Danny vehemently refuses his offer. He knows that Danny will come around to it, he's doing this for his own good. He still thinks his Parents were good people, and not thr Villains they really were.

Meanwhile Danny's life has been completely uprooted thanks to the self-righteous machinations of an Adoption Crazed Fruitloop! And not even the usual one!

Sure his parents were often busy with their work, but they Always set aside time to hang out with their kids and make sure they were okay. They never abused him, the neglect was only for like a month or two when the portal before they got their act together and apologized for it, and (most importantly) THEY DIDN'T KNOW he was a Halfa when they shot at him! They only found out when the ASSHOLE revealed his Identity in Court!

And Danny is Extra enraged by that part. The Adoption Crazed Fruitloop had revealed his secret identity for the ENTIRE WORLD TO HEAR!

He would never be able to live a normal life anymore, even if he managed to get away from the Moron who caused all this!

Bruce Wayne was a Villain in his eyes.

He ripped him from his home and from his family (basically kidnapped), revealed his identity to the world so he was forced to stay with him for fear of the GIW, and spun the whole story so that it looked like he was the Good Guy in this!?

It was official. Danny Hates Bruce Wayne, possibly more than anyone else in the World.

And that's a High Bar.

[existential-crisis-of-the-mind]

Small Talk (Jason Todd x Reader, Pt 1 of 3)

Pt 2 Pt 3

Premise: Jason worries that you're just putting up with him out of a misguided sense of pity.

Jason frowns as he looked down at his drink. A cup of steaming hot cocoa you had prepared for him, insisting it will warm him up.

His frown deepens as he glances at his fingers wrapped around the mug. Knuckles which were bloody and bruised an hour ago now carefully bandaged in ointment and gauze.

If it were up to him, he wouldn’t bother wrapping his wounds. They were surface level, didn't need stitches. The dried blood would serve a reminder of another target taken down. He wouldn’t bother taking any painkillers either and certainly not bother fending off the cold with a warm drink. None of that matters in the grand scheme of things.

His eyes then flit to you, sitting on the couch beside him, blanket wrapped around your curled up form as you distractedly flit through TV channels. 

Jason knows you’re not paying attention to the screen, it’s all just static and white noise. He can tell by light frown lining your brow, the way you bite your lip and the tautness in your shoulders that you’re worried. Worried about him, but unwilling to voice it. Probably cause you’d been bluntly dismissed the last couple times you raised your concerns.

Because Jason doesn't have the privilege to acknowledge his pain, doesn’t have the time to sit in his feelings nor reflect on his past. He's had to forego all that if he wants to move forward, to seek justice. At least his brand of justice anyway, drenched red in revenge as it may be.

But you, you stubbornly insist on being soft, on treating his wounds as if he’s delicate, making space for his feelings as if they matter, tolerating his outbursts without judgement or ire, staying in spite of how much the sight of his battered and bruised body coming home scares you.

It’s not like you know all that much about him to justify his antics. He’s not exactly disclosed his past beyond the fact he’s cut ties with his family, hasn’t really told you all that he gets up to as Red Hood. And his standoffish personality? A supposed byproduct of being resurrected only to realise you were abandoned by daddy dearest, though he’d rather not go down that rabbit hole.

So he can’t help but wonder why you choose to stick around. Why you put up with a caustic man like him, surely his sarcasm and occasional witty remarks don’t balance out his other self destructive tendencies.

“(Name)” He calls out, waiting until your eyes are on him before he continuing

“Do you feel sorry for me?”

The question hangs in the air for a moment, almost as if you need a moment to register that’s what he really asked.

“What?… What do you mean Jason?” your expression conveying genuine confusion at his out-of-the-blue question.

“You heard me” He mumbled gruffly, internally warring with the uncomfortable atmosphere he's created but also unable to sit with his doubts any longer.

“Do you pity me? Is that why you stick around and play house?”

He knew that last bit was uncalled for, but it was hard not to feel that way when his mind whispered those cruel words. That you felt sorry for him. Saw him as a broken man, damaged goods.

He knew that’s how the few people still in his life viewed him. A young boy subjected to trauma at the hands of Gotham’s most nefarious villain, turning to a life of revenge and vengeance... too far gone to see the light. An 'anti-hero' who needs to be stopped. Captured and contained.

Except how others perceived him didn’t quite bother him, not like he held any of them in high regards, especially not Bruce. Yeah okay, he was still bitter at how quickly everyone seemed to resume their day to day routine in his absence. Not like he had any evidence of them trying to avenge him and he sure as hell wasn’t going to give them the benefit of doubt.

But you, well you were different. You weren’t a part of his previous life, you only had the (dis)pleasure of meeting reborn Jason Todd. The jaded, sardonic Jason Todd, who was done with the world and all it had to offer. 

And yet you smiled at him. Cared about him. Worried for him. As if he’s deserving of any of those sentiments, as if even though you don’t fully understand him or the things he does, he still matters.

You seem to accept him in a way he’s yet to accept himself, and that thoroughly confuses him. To the point where the only conclusion his mind can offer is that you pity him. 

So here he is. He’d like to think this is him laying his cards on the table, but really he’s just an archer looking down the tall castle walls he’s built around himself, waiting to pierce an arrow through the one good thing he’s got going. Cause it’s just too good to be true. 

He’s not going to put a label on what he feels towards you, not just yet. Not when he doesn’t know where he stands with you.

He raises an eyebrow as he crosses his arms, curious but defensive in his stance as he braces himself for what you have to say.

He sucks in a quiet breath as your lips part. As much as he’d like to think he’s prepared for the worst, the possible reality where you do view him as damaged goods would definitely sting. 

His eyes flit back to yours regardless, he’s no coward after all.

—————————————————————————

Gotta love the random burst of 1am inspiration disrupting my sleep schedule. Let me know what you think of this! Part 2 is likely going to be dual POVs for maximum angst  

[just-aake]

Holiday Teasings

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: A festive new addition to Natasha’s usual outfit surprises all of those around her.

Warnings: fluff

Words: 1446

It was the holiday season, but that doesn’t mean work stops at the SHIELD headquarters. Even now, agents continue to tirelessly carry out their tasks and missions, the hallways bustling with conversation and hurried steps.

All of them trained to be efficient and timely with their duties. However, even the most experienced agents find themselves falling silent and stopping in shock at the sight that passes by them.

Normally, the presence of Black Widow would cause anyone to stare in awe, but today, the reason for such a pause is different. 

Only those close to her or brave enough would ever dare to ask or comment about it though, as proven by Agent Hill when Natasha arrives at the door of today’s meeting room. 

“Wow,” Maria exclaims, blinking in surprise as she examines the widow’s outfit. “What in the world are you wearing?”

“It’s just a sweater, Hill. Let’s not make a big deal about it,” Natasha says pointedly, crossing her arms, which only causes the bells at the cuffs of the sleeve to jingle in response.

Maria quickly raises her clipboard to cover her mouth, hiding her smile as she hums and nods in acknowledgment.

Natasha’s bright red sweater stands out amidst the typical dark SHIELD uniforms, easily capturing the curiosity of onlookers around her.

Had it been just a plain-colored sweater, maybe she wouldn’t attract as much attention.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. 

The design on the front depicts the classic suit of this holiday, complete with cotton fluff, a belt buckle, and jingling bells.

The two enter the meeting room together, and Maria continues her questioning.

“How long do you have to wear that?”

“Midnight,” Natasha responds as she takes her usual seat at the large conference table.

Steve comes in the door soon after, and after a brief pause of surprise, he gives his usual nod in greeting to the two and takes his seat beside her.

Natasha raises an amused brow at him.

“No comments?”

He shakes his head firmly.

“Nope, I know better.”

Immediately after his words, a figure comes rushing through the door. 

“Oh my god, it’s true!” Tony exclaims gleefully. He shakes Bruce’s shoulders excitedly when the scientist enters the room.

“Quick, where is a matching hat to complete the outfit?”

Bruce brushes off his hand and distances himself from Tony when he sees the warning glare the Widow sends their way.

“Must have left it back at the lab,” Bruce responds nervously with a shrug before going to his seat.

Like Steve, besides a brief pause and a curious tilt of her head, Wanda does not comment on her attire when she enters.

After a moment, Sam strolls into the room, giving Natasha a grave look. 

“You may need to check on your ride, Nat.”

Natasha straightens in her chair at his words, her brows pinching in confusion about who would ever mess with her motorcycle.

“What do you mean?” 

Sam gestures over his shoulders, nodding seriously.

“Yeah, I just flew in from the roof, and I didn’t see your reindeers or sleigh anywhere.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and slumps back in her chair as Sam laughs at her reaction, patting her shoulder in jest before taking his seat.

Tony leans forward across the table excitedly.

“Oh, I have a question, and be honest with me here, Romanoff.” He pauses for a dramatic effect before saying teasingly. 

“Am I on the naughty list?”

Natasha rolls her eyes and sighs in disgust, shooting him a deadpan glare.

Before she can respond, Natasha catches something at the corner of her eyes, and her glare swiftly turns to the Sokovian Avenger across the table, who fumbles with her phone in hand at the sudden attention.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

Wanda gives her a sheepish smile, waving her phone lightly. 

“I told Clint, and he asked if I could send a picture of you since he can't be here to see it.”

At her apologetic expression, Natasha sighs and waves her hand in resignation, giving Wanda permission.

Tony laughs and claps his hand in excitement at the sound her action makes, remarking, “Hey, can you shake your hands again? The bells really bring out the holiday spirit in here.”

Natasha is about to tell Tony where he can shove his holiday spirit when a stack of folders thrown against the table interrupts her, catching everyone’s attention. 

Fury stands at the end of the table with a reprimanding expression.

“Alright, that’s enough. Let’s get this meeting started. No more jokes about Romanoff’s outfit.”

“Thanks, Fury,” Natasha says.

Without a beat of hesitation, he replies in his serious tone.

“Anytime, Santa.”

The whole room erupts into laughter, and the meeting ends up having to start much later after that comment.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Your phone chimes, signaling the end of your timer, and you go to the oven to check on your cookies.

Removing the tray of freshly baked cookies from the oven, you place it carefully on the table to cool off. Taking the baking gloves off your hand, you bend slightly to examine the baked treats to make sure that they are perfect.

As you straighten up, your back bumps into another body as familiar hands wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer. 

“Mmm…those smell lovely,” Natasha compliments next to your ear.

You smile and lean into Natasha’s embrace, turning your head to greet her with a soft kiss on her cheek.

Natasha returns your affection, pressing a gentle kiss against your shoulder, before mumbling.

“It’s not even midnight, yet you’re already making my prize, makes me think you didn’t even plan on winning.”

You laugh lightly at her words before admitting.

“A deal’s a deal. Besides, I wanted to make some extra ones for you to bring in tomorrow too.”

Your hands fall atop hers, clasped around your front, as you play with the bells at the cuffs. The sound rings joyfully in your shared space.

“The others didn’t tease you too badly, did they?”

Natasha shrugs nonchalantly before responding.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“That’s good,” you reply, nodding your head.

As you get lost in her warmth, Natasha moves to take a cookie from the tray, but you notice and quickly slap her hand away lightly in a warning. 

“No, they’re still hot,” you chastise her.

Natasha chuckles at you before turning you around in her arms and leaning in closer, her voice lowering to a tempting tone. 

“Can I get my other prize while I wait then?”

With an amused smile, you cup her face and pull her in for a kiss. 

Natasha’s arm tightens around you, pulling you closer in response and deepening the kiss.

After a moment, you pull back, your smile widening when Natasha tries to follow before stopping with a pout when you hold her face firmly in place to look into her eyes.

“By the way, Clint showed Laura and the kids a picture of you in the sweater, and they want you to wear it at their Christmas party this weekend,” you tell her.

“Will I get another reward if I wear this again?” Natasha says jokingly. She doesn’t need any more persuasion to wear the sweater again if it’s for the kids.

You tap your lips as if in fake contemplation before giving her a teasing smirk.

“Well, I did get you something that I think you will enjoy seeing me wear,” you say, leaning in close to her. 

Natasha’s eyes glint in excitement before whispering against your lips.

“Yeah?”

Before she can bring you into another kiss, you pull away swiftly, turning around to check on the cookies.

“Guess we have to wait until after the party to see if you will get your prize,” you tease over your shoulder.

Natasha lets out an amused huff, shaking her head fondly at you, before sneaking a cookie from one of the piles that you’re making.

“Natasha!” You chastise with a small laugh.

She takes a purposeful bite of the cookie, wearing a victorious grin.

You roll your eyes fondly at her, then turn your attention to the piles of cookies in front of you. 

Retrieving your already prepared festive goodie bags, each labeled with the names of your Avenger friends, you begin to separate and place them alongside the corresponding piles you’ve created. 

When you finish, you clap your hands determinedly before declaring, “Alright, for each teasing comment they made to you today, they lose a cookie.”

Natasha’s grin widens in realization, and she gives you a quick kiss on your cheek, returning to her previous position of hugging you from behind before listing out the guilty parties.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: thank you for reading, hope you all have Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

[fictionalmenxyn]

🂱𝐑𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧🂱

Pairing: redhood!rafe x Wayne!reader

Warnings: p in v, no mentions of protection (protect!), pet names, dirty talk, spanking, language and possessive

𝐑𝐑𝐑

It was yet another night of patrolling for you. In your black combat boots and pants with your dark grey hoodie and black tactical vest and belt along with your domino mask. You searched the streets on your own. Usually you were with your father, Bruce Wayne. But he had Justice League matters to attend to.

So on your motor bike you zoomed through the dark and rainy streets of Gotham. Your helmet collecting rain droplets as you speed through the streets.

Your hearing caught your attention of something. Commotion, finally, your night isn’t so boring after all.

You tilted your bike to the side as you spun your bike around. Speeding into the direction of the commotion.

We park your bike near by and hide your helmet behind some trash cans. You go on foot. As you make your way over you double check your knives. Since your dad doesn’t like ‘killing’.

You peak around a corner, seeing a woman getting mugged by two guys.

You headed over, running as fast as you can. I tackled the one to the ground. Starting to punch him a few times till the other on pulled you off the goon. You elbowed the one behind and flipped. Your on the guys shoulders as you elbow his head. He shoved you into the wall. Causing you to fall off of his shoulders. I threw one of your knives into the guys thighs. He yelled out in back “fuck you! I know you! You’re Batman’s sidekick!”

You laughed “no, no… I’m my own person…” you lunged at the guy and placed a knife to his throat. He froze, you smirked “what were you saying??” The other guy was about to grab you. That’s when you head two gun shots fire. You quickly go to the woman and cover her the best you can. You look over your shoulder to see the two goons dead in the alley.

You grabbed the woman’s things and told her “stay in the light, find people and get home safe, yeah?” You hand her things and watch as she runs away.

You see a figure at the end of the street, holding a gun up. Pointing at you.

You raised your hands, still holding a bat-a-rang you had grabbed moments ago. The person seems to froze. The deep voice asked “where’d you get that?” You looked to the bat-a-rang then back to the figure “what’s it to you?”

“My past…”

The guy stepped forward. The dim light coming from the street behind you showing you who the man was, Red Hood. Your eyes widened ever so slightly “Red Hood? What’re you doing here?” He spoke under the helmet “patrolling, same as you… you didn’t answer the question, doll”

The voice seems familiar, a little too familiar. You answered “a friend…” the guy asked “friend?? Or family??” You gulped. How’d he know? Has he seen me before? Why does his voice sound so familiar?

You counteracted “how’s this from your past?” He replied briefly “used to use them..” you asked “how come?” “Doesn’t your dad have many Robins?” Your eyes widen. “R-Rafe…? No… can’t be… you’re-” “a dead man, yeah, I’ve heard it before…”

You couldn’t believe it, once you two were inseparable. You attended his funeral, walked to his grave every other day. Checking his flowers were fresh. You would kiss his headstone before leaving. Before his death, you two were attached to the hip. People would think you two were each other’s first love. But you were friends… Bruce could tell there was more.

Rafe spoke “hey, seeetheart…mind putting the stuff down?” You were snapped out of your thoughts. Seeing his gun was in a holster. You put your bat-a-rang into your tactical belt.

You stuttered “h-how? I-I visited you-your grave almost every day? Rafe… I-i cried for a week when dad didn’t come back with you…” he nodded and slowly approached. “I did die… but I’m back now… it’s a long story for another day… y-you really did all that?” He was now only inches away from you.

Both of you being older now, you could see just from his height and form, how much he’s grown. Whereas you stopped growing at fifteen. He towered over you, easily. You nodded “all of it was true… I made sure I did… if I was busy with homework I got Alfred to remind me after to go visit…” Rafe smiled softly under the mask. A first time after his death.

He place a hand on your hip “you’ve grown up…” you chuckle softly “so have you… probably more than me… still can’t see that face I’ve kissed for years…”

He chuckled lowly “maybe you can see it… but not out here, too risky…”

You nodded completely understanding, since it’d be risky for you too. You asked “would you uh… wanna come back to the Manor…? I know you probably wouldn’t want-” “yes, sweetheart, I’ll come back with you…” he joked lightly “still in the same place, right?” You smiled softly and nodded.

You both got on your bikes and sped through the streets once again.

𝐑𝐑𝐑

You both sat in your room. Your big bag windows over looking the backyard and forest in the back. The rain heavily pours and creating the perfect background noise for your catch up session with Rafe.

You had Alfred find some spare clothes for Rafe. He, now in some black sweatpants and a dark grey gym shirt, sat on your bed. You had changed into some grey sweatpants and a baggy black sweatshirt. You sat on your desk chair (that has wheels). Crossed legged as you talk with Rafe.

Rafe would check you out as you talked, you not minding one bit. Considering he used to do it all the time, so it felt familiar. He was back. We were back…

He placed both his hands on the arms of your desk chair and wheeled you closer. So you were right up against the bed and between his legs. He smirked “so, since I haven’t seen you in a while, why don’t we cut to the chase and you give me one of those magically kisses you used to give when I would be injured after patrol.”

You smiled softly, leaning forward and softly kissing his lips. He lifted you up with ease and put you on his lap. Placing a hand on the back of your head as he deepened the kiss. Your tongues clashing as he claims dominance. He groaned into the kiss, kissing the taste of your cherry lips. He felt like you have brought him back to life.

You felt his hard on as you continued to sit in his lap. His hands moving to your ass and softly squeezing them. He pulled away to get some air. Pressing his forehead to yours. He whispers “ever since I came back… you were on my mind… all the god damn time… wanted to find you sooner, without your dad…” you nodded. He smirked “thought about you in so many different ways…” you whispered “yeah? What way was your favourite?”

He chuckled lowly “you under me, baby… loved cuddling you… but we are grown up now, I want more…” he grabbed your hips and rocked you against his hard on. You gasped softly.

Rafe smirked “you want it?” You nodded “missed you so much…” he pecked your lips. Mumbling against your lips “missed you too.. wanna feel you all over, yeah?” You nodded.

Soo enough you were both naked, you laid in the middle of your large silk black bed. He hovered over you. You glanced down at him. Fuck was he huge…

He smirked “want it, baby doll?” You nodded “want you…” he moved his tip against you. Moving it up and down along your entrance. Causing you to softly moan. He pushed the tip in, groaning as he started to fill you up.

He gripped your hips, he looked down at your chest. Fuck did he love your chest, but what caught his eye. Wasn’t your boobs, but the necklace you wore. The same gold necklace with the letter J on it. The one he gave you on Valentine’s Day when one of your shitty not so boyfriend dumped you. He knew it would make you happy. So that’s why he got it. But after his death he didn’t expect you to keep it on.

It made him twitch inside you, seeing such a memorable thing still on you. Made him want you as his, no one else’s.

He slowly started to grind into you, you moaning softly. He groaned “fuck… you’re so tight, baby… feel so fucking good…”

You moaned “Rafe…mmm so big… missed you, Rafey…” he groaned and bucked a little harder at the old nickname “missed you too, gorgeous…”

He started to pick up his pace, ever so slightly. Causing you to become a moaning mess. He grabbed the bottom of your thighs and pushed them up more. Going deeper into you, filling you more. His long, slow yet deep thrusts made your mind fuzzy. No one has ever been like this.

The past relationships you’ve had, mostly wanted you to be closer to your dad. So they never really took care of you in that sense. That’s why when you dad noticed your ‘partners’ wasn’t treating you right. He’d have a very stern conversation and kick them out.

Rafe kept going. You moaned “feels sooo good, Rafe… mmm”

He smirked, pecking your cheek and talking against it “yeah? Like my big cock filling you up?… fits so perfect, might be made for each other, hm?” You nodded “yess…” Rafe smirked against your cheek. Then his jaw fell agape when you tightens around him. He moaned against your cheek “fuck, baby, wanna take my time with you… make you feel good… wanna make you mine, how’d that sound? Hm?”

You nodded “wanted it…. For so long…” he grinned “me too, baby… wanna have you as mine, mine to touch… mine to take… mine to love and take care of… to protect…” you moaned.

Rafe started to speed up, the sound of your breathing and squelching starting to fill the big room. The sound of the rain making it surprisingly more intimate. You both loved rain. You’d cuddle for hours talking about go knows what.

You moaned as he started to pick up the pace. “Feel so good, sweetheart… gonna take you as mine, yeah? You’d like that, huh? I’d be the best for ya” you put your hands on his shoulder blades. Digging your nails into his shoulders slightly. His hips stuttered for a moment. Your nails feeling good against his hot skin.

You both started to feel it coming on. Almost at the edge. Rafe gently spanked your ass “gonna come for me, Pretty?” You nodded “yesss!” He smirked “good girl. Come all over me, yeah?” You nodded.

You moaned his name one last time before squeezing against his big hard cock. Finish on him. He keeps his money as he feels his climax approaching. He moaned “fuck… where’d you want me, baby?” You gasped “inside!” He moaned “fuck, you sure??” You nodded “on… the pill…” he nodded.

He gave one more big thrust as he fills you up. Finishing inside of you, just like you asked. He groaned as he slows his pace then comes to a stop.

He gently pulls out, looking down to see the mess you both caused. He could honestly get hard again at the sight. He patted your ass “good job, babe…”

That’s when he squeezed your hand, that’s also when you realised he hand been holding your hand the whole time. God he had a soft spot for you, always had. But Rafe was always like this for you. And showing you all his love was always one of his favourite missions.

You looked at him, breathless and satisfied. He leaned down and kissed your lips softly. Pulling away he asked “so? Is it true? You wanna be mine again? But more this time?” You nodded “forever and always…” he smiled. His first time feeling truly happy after his ‘accident’.

𝐑𝐑𝐑

[the-winter-spider]

Remember pt.2 | B. Barnes

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: Angst, brain washing, violence

Masterlist

—-

“So what happened?”

“I’m honestly not too sure. All scans came back normal, but I think maybe she has a memory block.”

“A memory block? What do you mean?” Steve asked, his voice tense.

Bruce sighed, glancing between you and Steve. “Whatever Hydra did to you, they ensured you wouldn’t remember. I think when you tried to think past the initial incident—when they captured you—there were triggers in your brain telling you to stop.”

You furrowed your brows, pushing yourself up from the bed. “Why would my brain want me to stop?”

Bruce rubbed the back of his neck, a conflicted expression crossing his face. “It’s like a fail-safe… Hydra didn’t want you to know, for whatever sinister reasons they had. But I think, deep down, you don’t want to know either…when those walls in your mind come down, it’ll be…” Bruce hesitated, the weight of what he was about to say palpable.

“It’ll be what? Just say it, please,” you urged, your voice trembling.

“Catastrophic.”

The word lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating. The room seemed to shrink around you as the enormity of what Bruce had said settled in your chest. Catastrophic. The memories, the pain, everything Hydra had buried—it was too much to fathom.

Before anyone could speak, the door swung open, and Tony stormed in, his face a mix of frustration and determination. “I’ve been digging into Hydra’s files, they were thorough, like, terrifyingly so. Whatever they did to her, it was meticulous.”

“What did you find?” Steve asked, his voice urgent.

Tony handed Steve a tablet, the screen cluttered with files and documents. “They didn’t just wipe her memories, they reprogrammed her, injected her with something….remind you of anything? Or anyone?”

“Another weapon,” Natasha’s voice added.

A cold chill raced down your spine “A weapon?” you whispered, the horror sinking in.

Steve’s face tightened, a mixture of anger and disbelief flashing in his eyes “I can’t believe this happened not once but twice” He ran his hand down his face

Tony, with a hint of bitterness, muttered to Natasha, “Fate is starting to look a lot more like a curse to me”

Steve nodded, his gaze hardening with resolve “We need to take this one step at a time, just like with — just like before” He paused “We also have to track down the Hydra base she came from, they’ll be looking for her”

Tears welled up in your eyes, fear clawing at your throat. “What if I hurt someone? What if I hurt all of you?”

Before Steve could answer, the door opened again, and Sam walked in “Hey, so FRIDAY told me everyone was here and I’m starving…” His voice trailed off as he took in the tense atmosphere, his eyes darting between Steve, you, and Tony. “What’s going on? Who is she?”

Natasha stepped forward, giving Steve a pointed look. “You should go deal with…. you know,” she said, gesturing toward the door.

Steve sighed, turning to leave when you reached out and grabbed his arm “Stevie, don’t go…..p-please,” you pleaded, your voice small and desperate. The sight of you like this tugged at his heartstrings, he placed a comforting hand over yours.

“Stevie?” Sam questioned, his eyebrows pinching together.

“I’ll only be a moment. You’re in great hands, I promise. You’re safe here,” he reassured you.

You nodded reluctantly, your grip on his arm loosening as he gently pulled away. You held your breath, watching him leave the room, a sense of dread creeping in.

Bruce stepped forward cautiously. “Do you mind if we take some blood samples? It might help us understand what Hydra did”

You hesitated, then nodded slowly, your mind still reeling from everything that had been said. As Bruce prepared the equipment, you couldn’t help but wonder what horrors your blood might reveal—and whether you were ready to face them.

—

Steve stood outside Bucky’s room, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a war drum. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the weight of what he was about to do bore down on him like an anchor dragging him into the depths. There was no more time to delay, no more excuses to make. This conversation had to happen, no matter how much it might shatter the fragile peace they had all been clinging to.

He rapped his knuckles against the door, the sound feeling too loud in the quiet corridor.

“Come in,” came Bucky’s voice from within, tinged with the usual edge of weariness that never seemed to leave him.

Steve pushed the door open, stepping into the room that felt as much like a cell as it did a sanctuary. Bucky was perched on the edge of his bed, his vibranium arm catching the light as he polished it—a task he always turned to when his mind was heavy. When he looked up, the concern in his eyes was immediate, deepening the lines on his face that war had carved years before.

“What’s up, Steve?”

Steve hesitated, the words sticking in his throat like shards of glass. Finally, he forced them out, each syllable laced with dread “Do you recognize this person at all? Ring any bells? The uniform, the fighting style—anything?”

He handed Bucky the tablet, the screen illuminating the room with the cold, harsh light of the past. The video began to play, showing a figure clad in a sleek black suit, face obscured by a mask. The person moved like a ghost, a shadow with lethal precision, taking down SHIELD agents as if they were mere training dummies. No weapons—just sheer, unbridled force.

Steve kept his gaze locked on Bucky’s face, searching desperately for any flicker of recognition, any sign that this puzzle piece would finally snap into place. But as Bucky watched, his expression remained unreadable, a mask of its own.

Steve’s stomach churned. He had already endured the agony of watching the video himself, knowing that the merciless figure on the screen was you. The person who once wouldn’t hurt a fly, who used to shriek at the sight of a spider, was now a weapon forged in blood and darkness. The thought of showing it to you—of you seeing what you had become—was almost too much to bear. Would you even recognize yourself? Or would it break you beyond repair?

Bucky’s eyes remained fixed on the screen as the figure in black executed each move with chilling efficiency. Then, in a gut-wrenching moment, the individual was stabbed, a knife driven deep into their side. But instead of faltering, they retaliated with ruthless speed, snapping the attacker’s neck as if it were nothing. It was a kill made without hesitation, without remorse.

As the video played on, the figure stormed into the tower, kicking down the front door as if it were made of paper. But then, something changed. The unstoppable force suddenly became human—hesitant, vulnerable. Bucky’s eyes narrowed as the figure paused, reaching up to remove their mask.

But before the mask could be lifted, Steve reached over and stopped the video. The screen went dark, plunging the room into a heavy silence.

Bucky looked up at Steve, his voice barely more than a whisper “Who is that?”

Bucky’s mind was reeling. The world around him seemed to blur as he tried to process the avalanche of information Steve had just dumped on him. The tablet in his hands felt heavier than it should, like it was pulling him down into the abyss of memories he wished he could forget.

“I was hoping you could tell me, if you remember anything,” Steve said quietly, his voice laden with the same desperation that Bucky felt creeping into his own heart “They were with Hydra, same timeframe as you, Buck.”

Bucky shook his head slowly, trying to clear the fog. “I trained a lot of agents… The Winter Soldier program was broad, but not many survived it.” He paused, his gaze narrowing as he replayed the footage in his mind. “But that…,” he gestured vaguely at the now-black screen of the tablet, “that isn’t just Winter Soldier training. I recognize some of the moves, but this… this is something else. I remember there was someone else, though. We were put on a few missions together. Never saw their face, never heard them speak. Always masked, always silent.” Bucky’s voice wavered as he struggled to dredge up more details from the murky depths of his past. “After my longest stint out of cryo, I never saw them again. Why?”

Steve’s eyes flickered with a mixture of pain and determination. “This happened a few hours ago.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, frustration gnawing at him. “And why didn’t you call us back? We didn’t even need to go to the VA today!”

Steve looked away, his voice trailing off. “We had it handled… but there’s something else.”

Bucky’s breath hitched as Steve swallowed hard, the tension between them thickening. There was something in Steve’s voice, something that made Bucky’s heart pound in his chest like a war drum. Steve wasn’t just hesitant—he was terrified. Just rip off the bandaid he thought to himself.

“It’s Y/N, Buck. It’s her”

Bucky’s face drained of colour, the words hitting him like a sledgehammer to the chest “That’s not funny, punk”

But the look on Steve’s face told Bucky all he needed to know. Steve wasn’t joking. He wasn’t exaggerating. He wasn’t mistaken.

“I’m not joking, Buck…. I wish I was” Steve’s voice was barely above a whisper as he reached over and swiped to the next video on the tablet before pressing play.

Bucky’s eyes were glued to the screen, watching with mounting dread as the masked figure reached up, fingers trembling, and ripped off the mask. The camera angle was off, the lighting dim, but then… he saw it. The familiar curve of your face, the eyes that had once sparkled with life now dull and hollow. Your hand moved to your nose, blood oozing from it, and then your head lifted.

His heart dropped.

It was you.

The tablet trembled in Bucky’s hands, his grip so tight Steve was surprised it didn’t shatter. His breath came in ragged gasps, disbelief and horror warring for dominance on his face. “No… no, that can’t be her. She… she wouldn’t…”

But as the video played on, doubt clouded his mind. Memories of you, the warmth and kindness that had once defined you, flickered in his thoughts—now seeming like fragments from another lifetime.

Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, trying to ground him “I know, Buck.. I know, but Hydra… they did something to her, just like they did to you, they turned her into something else”

Bucky stared at the floor, his mind a chaotic whirlwind of guilt, rage, and fear “She’s here? Right now?”

Steve nodded, his voice heavy. “Yeah, she is. But, Bucky, there’s more”

Steve swiped over again, showing you sitting in the interrogation room. You looked almost the same as you had all those years ago—like you had barely aged. But the terror in your eyes, the way you were picking at your nails… that wasn't new. That was something Bucky remembered you doing when you were nervous, something that had always made him reach out and hold your hands to calm you down.

As he watched you in the video, your voice came through the speakers, small and broken. “What’s going on, Steve?” Your bottom lip trembled, and Bucky felt like someone had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart.

Steve asked you what you remembered, and you responded with fragmented memories “I don’t remember anything after Peggy brought me to England when you got Bucky back… I—it’s all a blur” Your voice was strained, your eyes squeezed shut as if trying to ward off the headache that was building. “I remember dancing… I remember you both leaving, getting into a car, and then—”

Bucky’s heart twisted painfully. You remembered him. But the revelation was a double-edged sword, slicing through him with guilt and sorrow. Hydra had you before they even had him… How had they gotten to you? How had Peggy and Howard not noticed? And the thought that you might not even know he had fallen off that train and ‘died’…

Then the video showed you screaming, your hands clutching your head in agony, and Bucky felt like he was going to be sick. The video cut off abruptly, leaving the room in silence.

Steve quietly swiped to the next video, not saying a word. It showed you in the lab, the dim lighting casting long shadows across your face.

He watched as Steve called your name, trying to pull you from the daze you were in. “Y/N… can you hear me?”

You blinked, your voice barely a whisper. “Steve… what happened?”

Steve had told you that you fainted, had some sort of episode. But it was your next words that shook Bucky to his very core.

“I saw him, Steve,” you murmured, your voice so fragile it was like it could shatter. “I saw Bucky… he didn’t know me. His arm…”

Bucky’s heart felt like it had been ripped from his chest. You had seen him as the winter soldier. You were there and he couldn’t do anything to protect you, you were there.

Tears blurred Bucky’s vision as the reality of the situation came crashing down on him. You had been there all along, suffering the same fate as him, but worse—because no one had known. No one had been looking for you.

“I have to see her,” Bucky choked out, his voice raw with emotion.

Steve hesitated, knowing how fragile you were, how volatile the situation could become. But he nodded, seeing the determination in Bucky’s eyes. “Alright. But, Buck, she’s not the same…you have to let me tell her first, you can't just walk in there okay?”

Bucky nodded, his eyes locked on Steve’s, the weight of his request clear. He knew the stakes were high, and the last thing he wanted was to make things worse for you. The emotional turmoil inside him was like a raging storm, but he needed to see you—needed to make things right.

Steve led Bucky down the dimly lit corridors, the air thick with unspoken fears and anxiety. They reached the door to the lab, Steve’s hand hovering over the handle. He gave Bucky a last, reassuring nod, acknowledging the gravity of the moment.

Steve opened the door slowly, the hinges creaking softly. The room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows across the space. You were seated on an examination table, your face pale and strained. The sight of you, a mere shadow of the vibrant person he remembered, nearly made Bucky falter.

Bucky's heart clenched with each silent step down the hall way. The air felt stifling, every breath he took a labored effort. He could feel Sam's eyes on him, but Bucky's gaze was fixed on you, your head hung low as you let Steve and the others lead you forward. The sight of you, once vibrant and full of life, now so small and subdued, sent a wave of anguish through him.

Sam was beside you, whispering softly. You managed a small, downward smile, a faint glimmer of your old self. It twisted Bucky’s heart to see that smile—so different from the one he cherished in his memories. It was a reminder of how much had changed, how much pain you were enduring.

Bruce glanced over from where he was standing, his gaze landing on Bucky “We’re done here,” he said, his voice carrying a note of finality “Tony was going to put her down in the guest area, but—”

Sam cut him off, standing up decisively “I mentioned the extra room on our floor,I didn’t think it was right for her to be so far away from you, not after everything she’s been through”

You kept your head hung low, feeling small and insignificant amidst the chaos of your mind.

“Thanks, Sam,” Steve said, his gratitude evident. There was no way they could let you stay alone, not after everything that had happened.

Sam gestured toward the door, and Bruce gave Bucky’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they both turned the corner. Steve walked over to you, his expression softening as he approached.

Steve cleared his throat gently. “Y/N,” he began, his voice as soothing as he could manage “I need you to focus on me for a moment.”

You looked up slowly, your eyes reflecting confusion and fear. When they landed on Steve, a flicker of recognition seemed to pass through you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the anxiety and pain that clouded your expression.

Your eyes, filled with confusion and exhaustion, met Steve’s “Good or b-bad? Because I don't think I can handle any more bad news for the day Stevie” Your voice cracked. Bucky, who was still waiting just outside the opened door, placed his head against the wall to prevent his tears from falling down his cheeks.

Steve stood at the food if your bed, he hung his head for a second to gather his thoughts before lifting his eyes to meet yours “I promise its good”

You nodded wiping away a tear “okay” you breathed out

Steve took a deep breath “There's no easy way to say this, but when you said you saw Bucky, you did”

Your eyebrows creased “W-what are you talking about?”

“Theres a lot you dont know, I can tell you but if you start getting any head pain let me know so i can stop…. After we last saw you lots happened…. Bucky he died, we thought he died when he fell off the train, i wasnt fast enough i couldn’t reach him in time…. I went down with the jet, this thing called the tesseract kept me alive for all those years…. 2011….. the winter soldier….hydra….brainwashing….his arm….super soldier…. alive….”

You heard fragments of Steve’s story, but your mind was drifting, lost in a fog of confusion and exhaustion. The pieces didn’t seem to fit together, and no matter how hard you tried to focus, the haze wouldn’t lift. Everything was jumbled—your memories, the present, Bucky. Bucky.

“W-where is he? Is he here?” Your voice cracked, sounding small but so desperate. Decades had passed since you had last truly seen him, and now the ache, the longing for him, for his presence, was crashing over you like a wave. You needed him.

Bucky’s breath hitched as he saw the tears welling in your eyes, your pain palpable in the room. He wanted so badly to rush to you, to pull you into his arms and promise you that everything would be okay. But the words felt like ash on his tongue because even though you were finally here, all three of you together again—safe—it felt wrong.

Something held him back. Maybe it was his own insecurities, the gnawing doubt that had plagued him since his return. He wasn’t the man you remembered, not anymore. His hands—his soul—were stained, and deep down, he felt unworthy of you. Or maybe it was because he understood, better than anyone, the storm that's raging inside of you right now. The confusion, the fear, the sense that your whole world had been turned upside down. He knew, and because he knew, he hesitated.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. None of this was how he had imagined his life—or yours—turning out. In all the scenarios he had played over and over in his mind, this was never one of them. The guilt gnawed at him, digging its claws deeper into his chest. He should have protected you, should have saved you from the hell Hydra had put you through, but he hadn’t. And now, he was standing here, looking at the person he loved more than anything, feeling helpless and ashamed. He didn’t know how to fix this, didn’t know if it could be fixed.

“Doll…” Bucky finally managed, his voice rough and filled with so much emotion he could barely keep it steady. He stepped forward, the weight of everything between you suffocating him, but he couldn’t stay away anymore.

Your eyes, wide and filled with longing, met his “Bucky…”

The way you said his name—it was everything he had longed to hear, but it also shattered him. He stepped closer, slowly, cautiously, as if afraid that one wrong move might break you completely. He could feel the tears building in his own eyes now, his heart thudding painfully in his chest.

“I’m here,” Bucky whispered, his voice barely audible. He hesitated, the guilt still clawing at him, but seeing the way you trembled, the way you reached out toward him, he couldn’t hold back any longer.

He moved closer, finally reaching out to take your hands in his. The moment his flesh and metal fingers touched yours, he felt a surge of emotions—relief, pain, guilt, love. You held on to him tightly, as though he were the only thing keeping you grounded.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “For everything, I should have been there. I should have found you. I didn’t know… I didn’t know what they did to you… I-I…”

Your grip on his hands tightened as tears slipped down your cheeks “I missed you,” you sobbed, the weight of those years, those lost moments, finally breaking free.

Bucky knelt in front of you, his hands shaking as he held yours, his head bowed. He couldn’t look at you—couldn’t bear to see the pain he had caused, even if it wasn’t directly his fault. “You didn’t lose me,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here now… but I’m so sorry for what you went through, I should have protected you”

Your fingers gently brushed his cheek, forcing him to look up at you. “None of this was ever your fault, p-please don't blame yourself…” you whispered, your voice soft but filled with determination

Bucky stared at you for a long moment, his heart aching, but there was something in your words—something that gave him the tiniest flicker of hope. Maybe you were right. Maybe, after everything, there was still a chance for the both of you to heal.

Steve placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Let’s get you to the new room”

Steve and Bucky helped you gently off the bed you were on.. Bucky stayed close, his eyes never leaving you. The journey to the new room was quiet, filled with the heavy burden of what lay ahead. But for now, being together was a small comfort in the midst of the turmoil.

Bucky's heart clenched with each silent step down the hall way. The air felt stifling, every breath he took a labored effort. He could feel Steve’s eyes on him, but Bucky's gaze was fixed on you, your head hung low as you let Steve lead you forward. The sight of you, once vibrant and full of life, now so small and subdued, sent a wave of anguish through him.

As you neared the room, Bucky couldn't help but notice how you held yourself - arms around your torso, fingers digging lightly into your shirt as if you were trying to anchor yourself.

You swallowed hard, your gaze shifting between Steve and Bucky. Tears welled in your eyes, and you let out a shuddering breath. “Bucky… I—” Your voice cracked, and you seemed to struggle with the right words. “I saw you… but it was different. I remember but i-it was like a nightmare. I—”

Bucky felt the rush of tears again, the overwhelming urge to let them fall at the thought that you saw him as the winter soldier and the fact you remembered him and you were probably so relieved to see him but then he didn't know who you were. He winced when he felt stomach bile coming up at the idea, which was extremely possible of him hurting you when he was the soldat.

You reached out a trembling hand toward Bucky, as if trying to grasp onto something solid in the midst of your confusion. Bucky took a tentative step forward, his own hand reaching out to bridge the gap.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the pain in your voice cutting through Bucky like a knife. “I’m sorry for what you saw, for what you must think of me.”

Bucky shook his head, the sorrow in his eyes evident “You have nothing to apologize for…. t-that could never change the way i see you”

Steve watched the exchange with a heavy heart, knowing that healing would be a long and difficult process. But seeing Bucky and you together, even under these grim circumstances, gave him a glimmer of hope.

“Let’s start with something simple,” Steve suggested. “Let’s focus on the present and the immediate steps we need to take. We’ll deal with the past and what’s happened, but right now, we need to ensure you’re safe and stable.”

Bucky nodded in agreement, his gaze never leaving you. He knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he was determined to be there for you every step of the way.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Keepsafes

Fandom: Batman, DC Comics

Summary: AU where Martha and Bruce survive, and they adopt the batkids.

Chapters: 2/?

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Harvey Dent, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, David Cain, Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Relationships: Thomas Wayne/Martha Wayne/Alfred Pennyworth, BruHarvey, BruTalia

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Hurt/Comfort, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Angst, Alfred Pennyworth Knows All, Bruce Wayne Only Has One Child, Bruce Wayne is Not An Only Child, Bi Bruce Wayne

Chapter Two: Sirens on the Staircase

Martha fixed her makeup while her assistant adjusted her dress. “Can you do the sweater, Mrs. Wayne?” her assistant questioned. 

“Over the shoulders,” Martha answered. She brushed hospital shampoo through her hair and looked at Bruce. He hated press conferences, but he understood they had to release a statement. “Bruce, you don’t have to do this with me if it bothers you… All I’m going to do is tell them we’re going home soon, we’d like everyone to respect our privacy, and we love our city and hope it doesn’t deter people from supporting local businesses.” 

“But what about crime?” Bruce asked. 

“Crime is only a symptom of a much more frightening disease that plagues our city… So many people are left behind or ignored because of where they come from or what abilities they do or don’t have. We are supposed to help give people whatever we need as often as we can,” Martha replied, “That being said, do you want to do boring press with me? Or do you want to go support Dad at his pain management appointment?” 

Bruce smiled at her. “I’ll tell Dad you love him,” Bruce replied as he kissed her cheek. 

Martha gasped. “You don’t think that I’d be coming on too strong?” Martha teased. “Tell him I think it’s cute how his nose scrunches up when he laughs and see how he reacts… And then, tell him that I love him.”

Bruce smiled and nodded before heading to the physical therapist’s office on the second floor of the hospital. Bruce waved at the window to make sure it was okay to come in. By this time, the hospital was well-acquainted with Bruce and even welcomed his presence. He brought meals and coffee, distracted smaller children while nurses drew blood, and was painfully sweet to everyone who cared for his parents. He even remembered the names of the people at the front desk.

Thomas lit up at the sight of Bruce and waved him over. "I'm taking a dip in the ice bath today," Thomas explained as he unzipped his robe. Bruce looked at the tub of ice water and frowned. "What's the matter?"

"Won't it be too—? Hm... What's that going to feel like?" Bruce asked. Thomas glanced at his physical therapist. He nodded in reply to Thomas' question.

"Do you want to try it with me? We'll only do a few minutes, and then we'll get out and dry off, warm up a little bit, and have a snack. How about it?" Thomas asked. Over the past few weeks, Thomas realized it was better to let Bruce experience the process of his recovery. It was much easier than giving textbook answers to an already traumatized eight-year-old.

Bruce removed his suit and draped it over a chair while Thomas transferred from his wheelchair to the tub's edge. "Truth be told, I'm glad you're doing this with me," Thomas nervously chuckled. He hated the cold, but Bruce loved it. He loved any extreme Martha and Thomas would allow. Thomas took a deep breath and looked at Bruce. "Count of three? Can you do the honors?"

"One... Two... Three," Bruce counted before plunging down into the tub with Thomas. They both shrieked and blew out a breath from the cold.

Bruce reached forward and grabbed Thomas' hand to keep from jumping out of the water. "It's a shock. I know. Wooo! I wouldn't be offended if you had to get out," Thomas reassured him. Bruce shook his head.

"I'm with you, Dad," Bruce replied, his forehead wrinkling as he stared directly into Thomas' eyes. Thomas chuckled. "Mom told me to tell you that she thinks it's cute when you wrinkle your nose when you laugh."

His chuckle turned to a boisterous laugh. "Did she? Do you think that means she likes me?" Thomas joked.

"She told me something else. She said she loves you," Bruce seriously answered.

"Wow. A pretty lady like your mom loves me? Tell her that she's the girl of my dreams... And that I love her, too. Can you remember that?" Thomas asked as he trembled. Bruce nodded. "You're a good man, Bruce. I don't know if I would've done this for my dad at your age."

Bruce beamed as he shivered in the water. "It's not so bad," Bruce lied. Thomas grinned. 

Silence fell over both of them, and Thomas smiled. The discomfort of the freezing cold faded over the next few minutes, and Thomas took Bruce’s hand once more, looking over his nail beds. “Come on, let’s get out… Easy, you first. Come this way,” Thomas whispered. Bruce waded over, and Thomas sat him on the edge. “Dry your legs and the rest of your body all the way first and take deep breaths. Okay?” 

Bruce obeyed, while Thomas pulled himself onto the tub’s edge. The two of them exchanged glances as they shivered and dried off, and Bruce sat on Thomas’ lap after he transferred back to his chair, and they sat wrapped in their towels and Thomas’ robe. “Would you do this again?” Thomas asked as he held Bruce close. 

“Hm… Can we get soup after next time?” Bruce asked. 

“Miso soup?” Thomas asked. Bruce nodded. “You’re in luck. Dr. Edmonds, can I get another spoon?” 

Dr. Edmonds pulled a spoon out of thin air. After they finished eating, Thomas made sure Bruce drank water with him and got dressed. Bruce eventually nodded off in Thomas’ lap after he got dressed, and Thomas went down to the first floor to watch Martha’s press conference. Martha casually widened her eyes, and Thomas nodded as he approached her in his chair. “Mrs. Wayne? Mrs. Wayne, will you and Mr. Wayne be taking questions at this time?” one of the reporters asked. 

“Thomas, honey, are we taking questions at this time?” Martha asked with a playful grin spread across her face. Thomas reached for her hand, playing with the ring on her finger, almost forgetting that the press was there to begin with. 

“I’ll do whatever you ask, Mrs. Wayne,” Thomas joked. Bruce pressed his face into Thomas’ chest, still fast asleep to Thomas and Martha’s relief. 

Martha smiled and turned toward the cameras. “We can answer a few questions,” Martha replied, “But I’m sure Bruce would like to go home and get some rest, so let’s be brief.” 

**

Bruce stirred in his bedroom as he listened to his parents speaking in the next room. It sounded like they were arguing, so he crept out of bed and listened at his door. “Thomas, it was an accident. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Martha replied. 

“Martha, maybe I shouldn’t—.”

“Oh, Thomas, don’t be that way. You did the same for me when I was pregnant. There’s no difference,” Martha replied. 

Bruce crept out of his room, and Alfred scooped him up. “Master Bruce, I think it’s almost time for lunch,” Alfred whispered as he carried Bruce downstairs. Bruce wrapped his arms around Alfred’s neck, but he couldn’t stop staring over Alfred’s shoulder. 

“What’s wrong?” Bruce asked. 

“Just a small spill, Master Bruce. Would you like a biscuit?” Alfred questioned in reply. 

“Chocolate chip, please,” Bruce answered. Alfred made a soft noise as he patted Bruce on the back. The patting sent Bruce back to the thought of sirens flashing in his eyes, police officers and EMTs swarming on all sides around him. “Wait! Wait! Where’s Mom and Dad? Mom! Dad!” 

“Bruce?” Thomas asked. Alfred carried Bruce up the stairs where Thomas waited in his chair. He was in his robe as he reached out for Bruce, and Alfred handed him off. “Hey, it’s alright, Bruce. It’s alright.” 

Bruce trembled as he pressed his face into Thomas’ shoulder, trying to use his father’s scent as an anchor. “I don’t know who—. I don’t know who took you. The lights—. The lights were flashing, and they took you away from me. I don’t know who—. I wasn’t sure—. I couldn’t—. I couldn’t ask them who—.” Bruce hyperventilated as tears streamed down his cheeks. 

“I’m right here. Daddy’s here. I’m not going anywhere,” Thomas whispered as he held Bruce’s hand. He rubbed circles in Bruce’s palm with his thumb as he kissed Bruce on the cheek. “What’s that silly game we used to play? The one with the—.” Thomas held one thumb up and tapped Bruce’s nose as he started humming the tune to Where is Thumbkin. He switched his hands back and forth even though he couldn’t remember the words clearly. “Help me out, Brucie. Really, son, I’m struggling with this one.”

Bruce slowly started participating, allowing Thomas to wipe his tears away while Martha crept past them to the dumbwaiter. Upon her return, she watched as Thomas struggled to sing along. Thomas lifted Bruce’s chin with his knuckle. “I’m sorry, Dad—.”

“Hey, that’s okay. I’ve got to take a shower, but I’ll be back down for lunch. A kiss for the best, will your heart miss me less? Mwah!” Thomas kissed Bruce’s cheek before patting his arm. Bruce gave him a kiss on the cheek in return. “That’s my big boy. I won’t be gone long. I promise.” 

Martha reached for Bruce’s hand. She scooped him up with her uninjured arm and once she had him balanced on her hip, she blew a raspberry into his opposite cheek. “Is Lovey a little out of sorts after his nap?” Martha asked in a cartoonish bird voice. But before she turned to head down the stairs, she stopped to kiss Thomas. “Isn’t Daddy just the sweetest?” she whispered as she walked down the stairs sideways with her back against the railing. 

“Alfred, I’m sorry,” Thomas whispered. Alfred shook his head. “Could you make sure they get downstairs safely? Hopefully, they take the stair lift down next time. Sorry about all the—.”

“You have never been more pleasant, Master Thomas,” Alfred teased. Thomas chuckled. “We’re happy to have you home, sir.” 

“I’m happy to be home, Alfred,” Thomas half-smiled.

[rainismdata]

I'm stressed right now, so— here I am thinking about mpreg!Bruce and how would he deal with the information that he's now pregnant. Because... well— because. And this is all would be very much out of character.

this would be for AquaBat, SuperBat, and LanternBat.

It's in one tumblr post bcs I'm too tired to make separate posts.

Arthur × Bruce

Bruce would be furious, confused, afraid, and sad at the same time. Because, he doesn't have any relationship with Arthur (or maybe not yet, idk). Also, it's only a few years after the first born of Arthur Curry's child. He knows Arthur and Mera has separated and still become good friends with each other. He knows he's older than he was the first time he met Arthur and if anything, this pregnancy then would be having more obstacles than if he's younger.

Arthur would find him in the training ground, tiring himself out of confusion as to what should he do about the information. He was just found out that he's pregnant after he was fainted on patrol, and Alfred was checking up on him.

Arthur would catch him into his embrace to stop Bruce bruising himself any further. To watch the realization hits Bruce's eyes. Bruce then get a hold of Arthur, leaning closer.

I'll make Atlanna and Mera (hell, also Orm, later when the babies has been growing up) to be happy and congratulating them. Helping Bruce in the process. Helping Bruce to live in Amnesty Bay, so Arthur, Atlanna, and Mera can keep an eye on him.

Clark × Bruce

Idk but I think they would be very much in fluffy domestic thing. Like I know He would be very much freightened still, but he's more calm. He waits for the right time to tell Clark about it.

Until then he told Clark about it, and Clark was a smiling mess even more. Clark knew about it, because he heard more clear heartbeat, a new one, coming from Bruce, but it's not Bruce's. And Clark also wait the time for Bruce to tell him.

Bruce would probably protest as to why Clark didn't let him know earlier. But, actuall, Clark has gave him signs. For one thing, he realized as to why Clark's becoming to be more protective, alarmed, and attentive to Bruce; Clark tried so hard not to make Bruce's stressing out of the League by making one himself.

Fluff. Domestic. Cute. Everything. I'm adding it right away.

Hal × Bruce

It was actually close as what he feels on what I was writing in Arthur×Bruce, but without the fighting. It's just him becoming more quiet. He didn't tell anyone about it. Just Alfred who knows about it. At times, he would excuse him self to go out from the JL's meeting room. Hal would recognize the unusual eye blinks as if Bruce is more tired than usual. He's continuously telling Bruce to drink more water as his lips sometimes was dry.

After two weeks of Earth time out for galactical mission, Hal's back to the Mansion when he found out that Bruce wasn't at the batcave. Alfred told him that Bruce was in his room all day. He didn't know if he's already eat or not. He asked Hal to tell him know if Bruce has ate the foods Alfred brought to his room.

Fast forwards, Hal sits on the bedside, Bruce's side and heard faint sniffle. They talk a little, to the point of Bruce telling Hal the truth. Hal asked "How are you feeling?" when he's given the time to finally speak after Bruce's story and sorry(s). Bruce got his head down and closed his eyes while answering the question.

Hal put his hand on Bruce's cheek to feel the tears coming down to his hand. He get Bruce's head up towards him. "Show me." Hal said, then Bruce opened his eyes, Hal sees the watery blue eyes of Bruce. Hal could see what Bruce is feeling.

[red-jaebyrd]

A New Bird in the Nest

Summary: What if Jason survived Ethiopia and Bruce adopted Tim early? Jason has many insecurities about the new addition to Wayne Manor and it doesn’t help that Bruce has been avoiding Jason since he came back from the hospital. The fear of being replaced and pushed out looms over Jason and it all starts when a kid named Tim Drake moves in. This fic was inspired by this beautiful piece of art by @ky-landfill

It had been almost three months since Ethiopia and Jason was still walking on eggshells around Bruce. Lately Bruce was all clipped tones and clenched jawed whenever Jason attempted to start a conversation with him.  After a while Jason gave up trying to talk to Bruce altogether. With a heavy heart Jason came to the harsh realization that Bruce was obviously still mad at him about Ethiopia.

Bruce was always busy now that Jason was home from the hospital. And while Jason was no longer confined to a bed and could now get around with the help of crutches, Bruce was hardly home. When he was home, Bruce was either holed up in the Cave or his study at all hours. At mealtimes he was constantly hiding behind a newspaper or hyper-focused on a tablet to avoid talking to Jason. Whenever his eyes would wander and meet Jason’s, it was always met with worry lines and a furrowed brow. It got on Jason’s nerves. He didn’t want Bruce’s pity. He just wanted Bruce to talk to him without snapping.

The only time they had talked was in the car on the way to Jason’s PT or to various doctor’s appointments. The conversations always mainly focused on the progress and recovery of Jason’s leg and nothing else. Jason figured it was probably easier for Bruce to talk to him if he didn’t have to actually look at him.

Since Jason had come home from the hospital Bruce had restricted Jason’s access to the Cave. He had told Jason that he didn’t want him to be in the Cave using numerous excuses like the flooring was unstable and would interfere with his crutches. There were also no handrails or any feasible way to install them.

Bruce’s cutoff of Robin spoke volumes to Jason without Bruce ever having to say much to him.

Continue on A03

Dick was visiting at the Manor today. Jason always looked forward to Dick’s visits, but he would never admit that to his older brother. When Jason had arrived home from the hospital, Dick had temporarily moved back into the Manor to help with Jason’s care.

At first Jason resented the gesture, mostly because he thought Dick was doing it out of guilt, but after a while it didn’t matter why Dick decided to stay at the Manor, Jason liked having him around. Not to mention Dick was a great buffer between him and Bruce.

Last week Dick had moved back to his apartment in Bludhaven. It was time for Dick to go back to his city and as much as Jason didn’t want him to go, he knew Dick had responsibilities he needed to get back to. Jason missed hanging out with his older brother every day, but Dick had promised to stop by and visit at least every other weekend.

This weekend Dick came, and they were hanging out the kitchen munching on Alfred’s delicious chicken salad sandwiches when Dick surprised Jason with a question.

“Have you and Bruce talked at all about what happened in Ethiopia?” Dick broached, taking a bite out of his sandwich.

“No,” Jason swallowed, putting his sandwich down and grabbing some chips. “We haven’t talked about that day. He doesn’t really talk to me anymore. Not that he ever talked a lot before, you know, but this is different. He snaps at me sometimes and stops mid-sentence. It’s like he wants to say something to me, but then he doesn’t.” Jason’s shoulders were inching toward his ears. “I think – I think he’s still mad at me.”

“He’s not mad at you,” Dick sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration and muttering a ‘Dammit Bruce’ under his breath. “Believe me. He’s – he’s just overwhelmed with what could have happened and he’s bad at communicating that fear to you.” Dick rubbed his hands together over his plate to discard the crumbs. He put his hand on Jason’s shoulder and squeezed. “You almost died, Jay and for him it wasn’t the first time he’d almost lost his kid to a rogue. He’s not upset with you. Give him time.”

Jason scowled at Dick. How much more time did Jason need to give Bruce? It had been at almost three months. Jason pushed his plate away from him and rubbed the crumbs from his hands onto his jeans. The sandwich now felt like stone in his stomach.

“He won’t let me back in the Cave. Do you think – do you think he’ll take Robin away?” Jason inquired, picking at his sandwich just to give his hands something to do.

“The truth?” Dick asked, leveling a look at Jason.

Jason nodded.

“He should. At least for –,“

“But I didn’t mean to –,“ Jason interrupted, his eyes wide at Dick’s answer.

Dick held up his hands in a placating manner “Let me finish. He should take it away at least for now. Maybe allowing a kid at 13 to fight dangerous criminals wasn’t the brightest idea on his part.”

“You did it at 9 years old,” Jason argued, clenching his fists at the table.

He couldn’t believe the hypocrite Dick was being when it came to Robin. He thought Dick would understand.

“Our situations were different,” Dick countered, raising his voice a little. “I didn’t give Bruce a choice in the matter. I was going to find my parents’ killer with or without his help. Robin was a way for me to be out there making a difference and seeking justice for my parents.”

“I don’t know why I even asked you,” Jason snapped, crossing his arms. “You never liked me being Robin in the first place.”

“No, I didn’t,” Dick retorted, his jaw clenching. Jason recoiled at the quick response. “Robin was mine. It was my mantle to hand over to a successor, not Bruce. I was replaced before I even got a say in the matter.”

Jason lips parted to say something but all he could do was glare at Dick. Dick had never let him forget that he had been replaced.

Dick got up from the table and placed his plate and glass in the sink.

Jason chanced a look at Dick who had his back turned to him with his arms braced at the sink edge. His shoulders tense. After a while Dick turned on the faucet and began to wash his dishes.

Now Dick was going to give him the silent treatment just like Bruce. Jason sighed and rubbed his forehead. He really did have a knack for messing things up and pissing people off. He couldn’t afford right now to have yet another person in his life not speaking to him; especially Dick. They just started getting to know each other again.

He never should’ve said anything to Dick about Robin.

“I never liked that he made you Robin, but…” Dick admitted, breaking the silence and turning off the water.

Here we go, Jason thought, bracing himself for Dick to lay into him.

“I quickly saw in you what Bruce did, that you were the right choice for the mantle,” Dick continued, his voice gentle and even. Jason blinked and looked up at Dick. The older man was now facing Jason drying his hands on a dishtowel. All signs of anger gone as the brightness returned to Dick’s eyes.

Jason gave him a small smile. Dick didn’t have to say that last part to him. Jason picked up his plate and limped to a drawer next to the sink for a Ziploc bag. He placed the reminder of his sandwich in it and hobbled to put it in the fridge. Dick took his plate, turned on the water, and began to wash it. Jason headed back to his chair at the table.

“Do –,” Jason hesitated, steeling himself for his next question. He padded his finger against a scratch on the wood. “-do you think he’ll replace me too?”

It was a question he hated asking out loud, especially to Dick, he didn’t even know why he asked it. Maybe he was hoping for some support, a counter argument in his favor, a lie, or a platitude. However, Jason knew deep down Dick wouldn’t sugar coat his words.

“Not unless he decides to adopt another kid,” Dick snorted, turning off the water and drying his hands. “And I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

“Thanks for the reassurance, Dick,” Jason retorted, rolling his eyes.  

“Jay, I’m kidding,” Dick teased, throwing a dish towel at Jason. “He’s not adopting another kid, okay?”

Jason nodded. He wanted to believe Dick, but Dick had now planted a seed of doubt. Considering Bruce’s track record there was always the possibility of Robin being replaced looming over Jason.

Two weeks later Jason was blindsided by the introduction to Tim Drake. A boy he had met briefly at a gala that Jason had attended with Bruce last year. He remembered trying to make conversation with the kid, but the interaction was awkward. The kid hadn’t been very talkative. While he had an overly friendly smile and gave Jason his full attention, the kid only nodded and gave Jason one word answers. Jason wasn’t sure if the kid was just shy or stuck up. Jason had concluded that the kid likely didn’t want to be seen talking to a street rat from Park Row and was just humoring him.

Bruce informed Alfred and Jason that Tim’s stay was a temporary emergency foster placement until a relative could be contacted.

Jason could deal with having a stranger in his house for a week or two, it didn’t mean he had to like him or spend time with him.  

For the next several days, Jason avoided the new kid at all costs except at meal times, which were unavoidable. Alfred and Bruce wouldn’t allow him to take meals up to his room. Bruce even stopped hiding behind newspapers and tablets at the table futilely trying to engage the kid in conversation. The kid hardly talked but answered questions when asked. Bruce still sometimes stayed in his study, but he now started opening the door again. It was something he hadn’t done since Jason had come home from the hospital.

The changes in the house were obvious, and it stung that the kid was getting Bruce’s undivided attention.

Whatever.

The kid had exceptional table manners, which was expected considering where he came from, but it still rubbed Jason the wrong way. What was this kid trying to prove anyway, that he was better than Jason? No shit, Sherlock, that much was obvious.  But it didn’t matter, the kid was soon moving out of Jason’s house and in with relatives. Jason would soon be rid of him.

It didn’t help matters that Dick and the new kid got along perfectly. Dick came over to the Manor right away to meet the new kid. The kid was completely enamored with Dick soaking up the frequent hair tousles and side hugs that Dick had always reserved for Jason.

First, the kid had stolen Bruce’s attention away from Jason, now he was stealing all of the time Jason would normally have with Dick.

About a week and half into the new kid’s stay, Bruce dropped the bomb that plans had changed, and the kid would now be staying with them at the Manor permanently. The kid was soon moved from a bedroom in the guest wing to a bedroom in the family wing next to Jason.

Jason’s stomach dropped. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Bruce had actually done the very thing Dick had teased him about almost two weeks ago, ‘not unless he adopts another kid’. It was actually happening.

Jason was being replaced! It was only a matter of time before Jason was completely out of the picture and the new kid became the new Robin.

He phoned Dick right away yelling at him that Bruce was replacing him with this new kid.

“This is all your fault,” Jason barked on the phone, slowly pacing his room.

“What’s my fault?” Dick asked.

“’Not unless he adopts another kid’ bullshit. Well it’s happening, because you’re the one who said it out loud,” Jason argued, clenching his jaw in frustration. It was a weak argument, but it was all Jason had at the moment. He had to blame someone.

“Jay, you can’t speak something into existence,” Dick snorted.

“I – I know that, dumbass,” Jason growled, irritated that Dick wasn’t taking him seriously. “I just didn’t think he’d –.”

The lump in his throat cut off his words and made his breath hitch. This was all happening too fast for Jason. Bruce wasn’t supposed to get another kid this fast or at all. The kid was supposed to move in with relatives. Jason knew he wouldn’t be Robin forever, but he thought he’d have enough time to get used to not being Robin before Bruce went and replaced him.

“Jay, are you still there? Talk to me, bud,” Dick said, breaking the silence, all teasing gone from his voice. “Bruce isn’t replacing you, Little Wing. He’s simply giving a kid something he needs right now, a home and a family. Nothing more. Besides, Tim is harmless and a great kid. I hope you’re being nice to him.”

“Why does he need my home and my family?” Jason whined, sagging onto his bed. His leg throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

Jason knew he was being unreasonable. This kid had done nothing wrong except existing, yet Jason couldn’t bring himself to be nice because this kid was getting the one thing Jason had been wanting for the last two months – Bruce’s undivided attention; and now stealing the only thing he had left - his brother’s devotion.

“Because his family failed him, Jay,” Dick replied, his tone matter of fact yet gentle. “You know what that’s like. Just talk to him and try to get to know him. He’s a great kid.”

Jason couldn’t bring himself to start a conversation with the kid, not yet anyway, but he no longer glared at the kid at meals or slammed his door in the kid’s face. He’d nod whenever the kid said, ‘Good morning’ and no longer avoided the library when he saw the kid sitting in his favorite chair. He even kept his mouth shut when he saw the kid sitting in Bruce’s study just feet away from the Grandfather clock entrance to the Cave.

The more Jason paid quiet attention to the kid, the more he saw things that reminded him of his own upbringing with Willis and he didn’t like it. The kid knew how to stay out of the way. When he was not occupied elsewhere with Bruce or Alfred, the kid spent most of his time in his room. The kid never really ventured within the Manor by himself beyond the library or kitchen, even though he was given permission and encouraged to explore his surroundings.

At first, Jason actually liked it. It meant he didn’t have to run into the kid or spend any time with him. But soon Jason realized that the kid’s avoidance of everyone was a definite problem.

The kid was quiet and never brought any kind of attention to himself. He never complained about the food given to him, ever; and ate everything on his plate, even the gross under-seasoned brussel sprouts and cauliflower. Bruce didn’t even eat the brussel sprouts on his plate. Jason knew the kid hated them because he noticed the kid struggling to swallow every single one, but he never said anything to Alfred or Bruce. Bruce eventually told the kid that he didn’t have to eat anything he didn’t like, but it was like the kid didn’t hear him. The kid also never asked for seconds but would say yes when they were offered to him.

The weirdest thing of all, the kid never initiated any conversation with Bruce or Alfred unless they spoke to him first. The kid was literally the poster child for that saying, ‘children should be seen and not heard’.

He didn’t even speak up one particular evening when he started breaking out in hives at dinner.

Jason was the first one to notice something was wrong with the kid. It was only for a split second and the kid must have realized something wasn’t right either because he instantly put his head down. But it was too late, Jason had seen the red raised splotches on the kid’s neck and face. The kid was white-knuckling his cutlery, a piece of Alfred’s Pesto Penne was still dangling off his fork.

If Jason had the height and the strength, he would have kicked the kid under the table.

Say something, kid!

Jason wasn’t sure why he was getting so mad, but it was pissing him off that this kid was going through what looked like some sort of anaphylaxis episode and staying quiet. Jason still might not know how to talk to the kid, and maybe he was still a little angry at him for stealing Bruce and Dick, but he didn’t want him to die.

Could it be that the kid was genuinely afraid to disrespect adults that he’d put his health in danger and eat whatever was put in front of him?

Didn’t the kid know by now that Bruce wasn’t going to be mad at him for speaking up about an allergy? Hadn’t the kid spent enough time with Bruce to know that he’d never be shamed for something he couldn’t control.

“Bruce!” Jason yelled, finally getting the man’s attention. Bruce gave him a puzzled look. “Your new kid needs you.”

Just then the kid cleared his throat and made a weird and alarming wheezing sound. Bruce’s fork clattered on his plate the moment he laid eyes on the kid.

“Tim, are you okay?”

The kid’s eyes went wide. His eyes scanned frantically at Jason, Bruce and then Alfred, but he didn’t say a word.

“Tim, I need you to answer me, okay,” Bruce asked, keeping his voice low and calm. “Are you allergic to pine nuts?”

“No, I…I don’t know,” The kid swallowed, tears pooling in his eyes. “I’m…I’m allergic to almonds, but I’m…I’m okay.”

It was obvious to Jason and everyone else in the room that the kid was anything but okay.

“Alfred, get two epi-pens and call Leslie,” Bruce ordered, making his way to a chair closer to Tim to examine his face and neck.

“Right away, sir.”

“I’m okay,” The kid wheezed, moving his face away from Bruce. “Really, it’s f-fine.”

Jason couldn’t take it anymore. The kid was obviously not okay. Nothing about this was fine. The sooner he realized that the better.

“You’re not okay, you dummy! You don’t fuck around with food allergies!” Jason bellowed, banging his fists on the table to emphasize his point. “If you’re not feeling good because the food is making you sick, you fucking say something.”

“Jason,” Bruce warned, keeping his voice even while also leveling Jason with a glare.

He could see Bruce clenching his jaw as he went back to examining the kid. Jason ignored him. He didn’t care that he was making Bruce mad. Jason needed to finish telling the kid what he needed to hear.

“If you’re still hungry, ask for more food,” Jason continued, his voice getting louder. “If you don’t like the food, don’t eat it. Either way Bruce and Alfred won’t get mad!”

“Jason, you’re yelling,” Bruce stated, his voice low and gravely. “Lower your voice or you’ll need to leave the table.

Jason didn’t even know why he was yelling at the kid, but it felt good to get it out. A part of him was frustrated that the kid still didn’t see what he had here with Bruce – safety. Another part of him was irritated at himself for acting like a complete asshole hating this kid for no reason other than existing and taking up space. Realizing too late that this kid was just like him when he first came to live here, scared and mistrustful of adults.

Jason wasn’t done yet. There was one last thing Jason needed the kid to hear and understand about the way things worked with Bruce and Alfred. Something Dick actually told him when Jason first came to the Manor.

“No one here is going to make you do what you don’t want to do,” Jason emphasized, grabbing his crutch, and getting up from his chair. “But they won’t know what you want if you don’t fucking say something.”

He added that last bit.

“Jason, that is enough,” Bruce scolded, his voice loud enough to make the crying kid next to him jump and Jason flinch.

Before Bruce could tell him to go to his room, Jason was already making his way to out of the dining room.

“I’m sorry, Bruce,” the kid sobbed, his breaths hitching, while Bruce continued to examine the hives on his face and neck. “I’m so sorry for making a scene. Please…please don’t be mad. I’ll…I’ll do better. I promise.”

The last sentence was said in a whisper, but Jason heard it loud and clear. It felt like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t get out of the dining room fast enough. If only his stupid leg would let him run. He made his way out of the dining room and into the hallway. He leaned against the wall taking deep breaths.

What kind of parents did this kid have that he was scared of adults and knew nothing about his own food allergies?

Jason saw the signs once he had started to pay more attention. The obvious signs of abuse. They were right there at every meal, every encounter, plain as day, but Jason was too preoccupied with his own paranoia of being replaced, and blinded by Tim’s rich kid status and upbringing to think that someone of his background was being mistreated by his own parents.

Jason was an asshole.

He was snapped out of his thoughts as Alfred walked briskly passed him into the dining room with the two epi-pens for Tim. Jason proceeded to head for the stairs.

Jason made it as far as the bottom of the stairs. He sat down on the steps and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the banister. The familiar throbbing of a migraine radiated from his left temple to the back of his head. After a while he heard familiar footsteps approaching him. It was Bruce.

“How’s the kid?” Jason asked, squinting at the harsh light of the chandelier above him.

“The epi-pens helped. Alfred is monitoring him in one of the downstairs bedrooms,” Bruce answered, sitting down on the step next to Jason. “Leslie is on her way to check on him.”

“Good,” Jason replied, nodding his head. “That’s…that’s good.”

They sat there on the steps in companionable silence. Jason could feel a lecture coming from Bruce. The migraine made it hard for Jason to care. Right now, all the fight in him had left.

“You can’t yell at him like that again, Jay,” Bruce warned, breaking the silence. “He didn’t deserve that from you at all.”

“I know,” Jason groaned, leaning his head against the banister again. “And I didn’t mean to yell, but the k-,“ Jason stopped himself, the kid had a name and he should probably start using it. “Tim needed to hear it. I’m not sorry for what I said.”

“You need to be nicer to your brother, Jay,” Bruce sighed, his shoulders sagging in exhaustion. “We need to make him feel welcome here.

Brother.

Jason let the word wash over him. He hadn’t really allowed himself to think of Tim in that way even though it was obvious that he’d be staying at the Manor permanently. It was all too much for Jason to think about at the moment.  

“Bruce,” Jason breathed, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead. “I don’t want to talk about him right now. My head is killing me.”

He knew he needed to talk to Bruce about Tim, but he couldn’t do it tonight. Right now his throbbing head wouldn’t let him think straight.

“Okay get some rest,” Bruce suggested, brushing Jason’s bangs from his forehead. “We definitely need to have a conversation. We’ll do that in the morning when you’re up for it.”

The next morning Jason took his time making it to Bruce’s study.

He had most of the morning to think about what he was going to say to Tim and Bruce. Jason wasn’t sure if he’d actually have the guts to admit out loud certain thoughts that had been rummaging around in his brain the last few weeks. Especially the big one concerning Robin.

Would Bruce take Robin from him and give it to Tim?

Before Jason realized it, he was in front of Bruce’s study. The door was opened. Bruce had always told Jason to feel free to come inside if the door wasn’t closed. His door hadn’t been opened in the months before Tim came to the Manor. Jason peeked inside from the doorway.

Bruce looked deep in thought as he perused over various papers from different file folders stacked on his desk. Jason was starting to have second thoughts. 

“Hey Jason, what can I do for you?” Bruce asked, not looking up from what he was reading.

It always weirded Jason out when Bruce knew it was him without even looking at him. It was likely the squeaking sound from his crutch that gave him away.           

“You look busy,” Jason observed, giving Bruce an out and hoping that he’d take it. He turned to leave. “I’ll come back.”

“I’m not busy, have a seat,” Bruce acknowledged, motioning to the sofa. He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He closed the file folder he was reading, stood up from his desk chair, and stretched. He soon followed Jason to the sofa. “How’s your head, kiddo?”

“Better. I think I just needed to sleep it off,” Jason answered, sitting down and leaning his crutch against the arm of the sofa. Once he got a closer look at Bruce he could see dark circles under the man’s eyes. “Have you been here all night?” Jason gestured to Bruce’s desk.

“Pretty much. Though I did spend some of the night looking in on Tim,” Bruce sighed, sitting down on the sofa with Jason and rubbing his tired eyes.

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s much better, just tired. He’s back in his room if you wanted to go see him later and talk.”

Jason nodded. It was Bruce’s way of telling Jason that he needed to apologize to Tim. He had planned on visiting Tim after this, though he’d understand if Tim wasn’t up for it considering the way Jason yelled at him last night.

“Anyway, I’m just trying to see if I had missed something in any of Tim’s records,” Bruce continued, leaning back on the sofa. “They’re all pretty vague and don’t go back that far. There aren’t any details about any known allergies or yearly well checks, no documentation about any allergy testing except the most recent one that revealed an allergy to almonds. His immunization record stops at 5 years old.”

“But his parents have money, right? If they live in this neighborhood,” Jason snapped, folding his arms. “How could they just not take him to the doctor?”

“You’d be surprised by the priorities some people have in this town,” Bruce criticized. “Sadly, their children are not on the top of that list.”

Jason shook his head. It didn’t make any sense to him. Tim’s parents had money. Maybe not as much money as Bruce, but they could afford to take Tim to the best doctors for yearly check-ups and specialists to help him with his allergies. Instead, they chose to prioritize their jobs and lifestyle instead of their kid.

“Is that the reason he’s living here with us now? Because his parents didn’t take good care of him?”

“Among other things, yes,” Bruce answered. “Tim’s home life wasn’t great. From what little he told me his parents left him home alone for extended amounts of time at a fairly young age. For his safety and wellbeing, it was necessary for him to be removed from his parents. He needed a home with stability and most of all a family. I felt that we could be all of that for him.”

Jason’s shoulders dropped hearing all of this from Bruce. Tim was a lonely and abused kid, just like Jason had been. Bruce opened his heart and his home again to a boy in need. It now all made sense why Bruce had been spending so much time with Tim. He wasn’t trying to replace Jason. He was trying to make Tim feel at home; just as Jason should have been doing instead of slamming doors in the poor kid’s face.

“I realize now that the timing of his arrival was awful, and I’m sorry,” Bruce continued, interrupting Jason’s thoughts. He placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder and squeezed it. “I know this type of major change was the last thing you needed while you are still recovering.”

Jason nodded. He leaned his head back on the pillows to process everything Bruce had just said. Bruce wasn’t wrong, the timing of Tim’s arrival did suck as it played on Jason’s already frayed emotions. But after last night it made it easier to understand Tim’s sudden placement with Bruce.

Bruce saw a kid in trouble and did what came naturally to him. He did the same for Jason four years ago, of course he would do the same thing for Tim. Jason rubbed his face harshly. He felt like an idiot for not making this connection much sooner. Bruce had reached out to be Tim’s family, just like he had done for Jason, because Tim needed a family. Bruce didn’t need another kid.  It was all about helping a kid in need.

So, he’s not here to replace me.

“What? No, Jason, I would never do that– what made you think I would –,” Bruce stammered, his wide eyes searching Jason.

Oh shit.

Jason didn’t mean to say that out loud.

But before he could think of something else to say, all the thoughts that had been festering in his brain since Tim had arrived came pouring out of his mouth.

“– because you weren’t talking to me. I thought you were still pissed at me for running away. And when Tim came you were spending all your time with him that you used to spend with me,” Jason blurted out in quick succession. His vision started to blur with tears. He really didn’t want to cry, but the tears were already flowing down his cheeks. “and – and maybe I thought that you liked him better because – because he’s a good kid with perfect manners who never talked back or complained, and he’s not – not a mouthy screw up like me who messed everything up.”

Jason’s eyes widened as his brain caught up to the words that had just come out of his mouth. Every thought and fear that he had been dwelling on these past several weeks came out faster than he could contain them. There was no taking it back now.

“Jason, you’re not a screw up and you didn’t mess up anything.” Bruce affirmed, gently pulling Jason into a hug. Jason held on to Bruce like a lifeline, his tears continuing to fall. “Son, you didn’t mess up anything.”

Jason shook his head, but who was he kidding. He made a pretty big fucking mistake that almost got him and Bruce killed. How is Bruce not furious with him?

“It’s true that choices were made by both of us, good and bad and things took a serious turn, and – and for a second I thought I’d lost you,” Bruce sniffed, breaking the embrace to look at Jason. “But I didn’t. You survived and I’m so grateful every single day that you are here with me.

Bruce moved his hands to cup Jason’s face. He gently wiped away the tears from Jason’s cheeks with his thumbs. Jason kept trying to calm his breaths but they were still hitching with every sob. Why couldn’t Bruce have said all this to him sooner?

“I’m so thankful I get to watch you grow and see the person you will become,” Bruce continued, embracing Jason again and rubbing soothing circles on Jason’s back. “I’m so proud that you’re my son, and I love you just the way you are so please, don’t think for one second that I would ever want to replace you with someone else.”

There was still something that Jason needed to know from Bruce. A question he needed answered because he was tired of the subject being avoided and ignored. He was ready to take responsibly for his actions. He just needed Bruce to be straight-forward with him.

“Are you still mad at me?” Jason stammered, his bottom lip trembling. “About Ethiopia? It’s my fault –,”

“Oh, Jay, lad, no,” Bruce interrupted, his shoulders sinking. He hugged Jason tighter resting his cheek on the top of Jason’s curls. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I made you think that I was ever mad at you.”

Jason straightened in surprise at the words ‘I’m sorry’ coming from Bruce. Not that Bruce wasn’t capable of apologizing, but did Jason deserve it? It felt misplaced. He was the one that ran away and got himself in trouble. He was the one that nearly got himself killed and needed rescuing.

“I don’t blame you for what happened,” Bruce continued, interrupting Jason’s thoughts. “I blame the people who hurt and betrayed you. I’m mad at myself for not giving you the answers you needed at the time that you were seeking them. I feel responsible for making you think that you had to go halfway across the world in search of those answers. I’m angry that the one person who should have cherished you for the gift that you are betrayed you to a madman.

“I allowed my anger toward them to fester and instead of talking about what had happened in Ethiopia with you, I internalized it. I’m sorry, Jason,” Bruce apologized. “I am so sorry for pushing you away at a crucial time when you needed me; that will never happen again. Understood.”

“Understood.”

Jason blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. He wasn’t expecting Bruce to say all of that to him, but it was a relief to hear that Bruce’s anger wasn’t because of him. It felt like an invisible weight had been lifted from Jason’s shoulders. Bruce wasn’t mad at him, and he didn’t blame Jason for what had happened in Ethiopia.

“I’m so grateful that you’re alive and here with me,” Bruce repeated, pulling Jason in for another hug.  

They still hadn’t discussed Robin, but right now Jason felt that Robin could wait.

“I love you so much, Jason.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

Later that afternoon Jason headed to Tim’s room. Jason still wasn’t sure what he was going to say to Tim. The kid was likely scared of him now from all the yelling that had happened last night. He couldn’t blame the kid if he now hated him. Jason kind of deserved whatever attitude the kid gave him.

Jason took a deep breath before knocking on Tim’s door.

“Who is it,” a faint voice answered from inside the room.

“It’s Jason. Can I come in?”

“Yes,” Tim answered almost immediately.

Jason wondered if Tim had ever said no to anyone. He felt it was best to give this kid a way out just in case he’d rather be alone.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel up for visitors,” Jason added, still not opening the door. “I can come back whenever you’re up for it.”

“I’m okay, you can come in.”

Jason opened the door and hoped the smile on his face looked genuine and didn’t scare Tim. It appeared that just him being in the room was enough to have the kid sitting up, hiding behind his knees and blankets.

“You’re not going to yell at me again, are you?” Tim asked, hugging his knees.

“No, Tim,” Jason laughed, making his way closer to Tim’s bed. “Not unless you give me a reason too.”

Tim’s eyes went wide.

“That was a joke,” Jason interjected quickly, before Tim burst into tears. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Let’s try this again, how are you feeling?”

“Better, just tired. I’m not itching anymore, so that’s a relief. This one hit me harder than the almond reaction.”

Bruce had told Jason that it was only a few weeks ago that Tim had experienced anaphylaxis while home alone. This incident had prompted Tim’s removal from his parents and placed with Bruce.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Jason said, shifting his weight off his bad leg. It started throbbing in its standing prone position. “Allergic reactions suck.”

Just then the pain in his leg radiated from his hip to his knee. Jason couldn’t hide the hiss of pain that escaped between his clenched teeth. He looked up to see Tim looking at the long scar on his face and then his leg. Jason hated it when people stared.

“I think you need to sit down. You look like you’re in pain,” Tim suggested, gesturing to the armchair next to his bed. “This chair is really comfortable. I like sitting in it while I’m reading.”

“Thanks,” Jason breathed, trying to ignore the throbbing in his leg while making his way over to the chair. He noticed a familiar copy of ‘The Lightning Thief’ on Tim’s nightstand and picked it up.

“Bruce bought me the entire series. I just started it when I came here,” Tim explained. “I really like the story. I wasn’t allowed to read it before – before I came here.”

“Let me guess, your parents think gods and goddesses are evil?” Jason smirked.

“No, mother said ‘fantasy books are frivolous nonsense and not becoming of a future businessman.’”

Jason scowled. He was deeply insulted that the adults in Tim’s life had disparaged Jason’s first favorite genre of books. How dare they. It appeared that Jason had some work to do.

“I can recommend other fantasy books if you like the genre,” Jason offered, setting the book back on the nightstand. “When you’re feeling better we can go to the library. I’ll show you the fantasy section. It’s huge.”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to do that,” Tim shrugged. “I know you don’t like me.”

Hearing Tim say it like that, so matter of fact and accepting, wiped the smile off Jason’s face.  It sucked to know that he had left such a horrible impression on Tim and that Tim was giving him a way out. It was a pre-emptive strike to avoid the disappointment of rejection.

Jason was all too familiar with this tactic – he used to do it all the time to Bruce and Dick when he first came to live at the Manor.

He wondered how many times Tim had been hurt by the people closest to him to easily brush off simple offers and attention from others. It didn’t help that Jason’s actions over the past few weeks solidified Tim’s assumption that Jason really didn’t want to spend time with him.

Jason needed to fix this fast.

“I know I don’t have to show you the library, but I want to,” Jason cleared his throat, stretching his sore leg. “We can make up for lost time, okay?”

Tim nodded.

“Is there anything you want to ask me?” Jason offered, sitting back in the chair. Tim wasn’t lying, this chair was comfortable.

Jason’s brain was screaming at him for daring to open himself up like this to Tim, a kid he hardly even knew. But deep down in his heart, Jason knew this was the right thing to do. It was a fair exchange. He couldn’t expect Tim to open up to him, if he didn’t budge himself.

“Um,” Tim hesitated, wringing his hands and looking anywhere but at Jason. He took a deep breath and returned his gaze to Jason. “What happened to your leg and –,“ Tim gestured to the left side of his own face which was the same place as Jason’s noticeably long scar.

Jason took a deep breath to steel himself. He knew this was going to be a question Tim would ask. He was hoping he wouldn’t ask this question right out of the gate, but he did open himself up to be asked any question. Jason wasn’t stupid enough to give Tim details but since this kid was his new ‘little brother’ Jason should probably be somewhat honest with him.

“It’s a long story, but the short version is I went and did something I shouldn’t have, and this happened,” Jason explained, gesturing to his face and his leg. “Can I ask you a question?”

Jason wasn’t sure the kid was going to answer his question once he heard it, but he had to give it a shot.

“Sure, what do you want to know?”

“I want to know why you didn’t say anything to anyone at dinner when you were having a serious allergic reaction?” Jason asked, maintaining eye contact and using his best Robin voice.

Tim stayed quiet and Jason realized that maybe he had pushed too far with his first question. Part of him definitely wanted to give Tim an out, but the other part of him felt it was important for Tim to answer the question. Jason strongly believed that Tim needed to know from him that Tim would never be shamed or scolded by Bruce for speaking up when something was wrong.

“Mother says,” Tim swallowed, fisting his blankets and then hugging his knees again. “That making a scene at the dinner table in front of guests is rude; under no circumstances should I bring any kind of attention to myself.”

Jason had to take a few deep breaths to calm his rage and quiet a few choice words he wanted to voice out loud about these absurd rules and Tim’s parents.

“Tim, you were going into anaphylactic shock,” Jason explained, keeping his voice level like he does when talking to victims as Robin. “Saying something is always okay. Especially if you are in danger, or you just don’t feel good. You wouldn’t have been making a scene. Bruce doesn’t care about decorum all that much just as long as you don’t say ‘fuck’.”

The last sentence made Tim giggle. It was nice to know he could make the kid laugh.

“You’re safe here, Tim. I know firsthand that concept will take some getting used to but believe me. This place is safe. Bruce and Alfred like having you here and so do I,” Jason confessed. “It’s true. I know I didn’t show it in the beginning, and I’m very sorry about that. So, if you want, we can start over.”

Jason held his breath, pleading internally that Tim would forgive him for how Jason had treated him. He truly wanted to start over with Tim. Jason was looking forward to having a little brother.

 “I’d like that”, Tim smiled. It was a smile that reached his eyes and brought out the dimples in his cheeks. “I just have one more question.” Tim hesitated, biting his lip. “It’s sort of a favor. It’s no big deal. You can say no if –,“

“Tim, I’m not going to say no unless you want me to move furniture,” Jason joked, trying to make Tim laugh. “What do you need?”

Tim looked longingly at the book sitting on his nightstand and then back at Jason.

“Can you read a bit of the book to me?” Tim begged. “I’m still dizzy from last night and every time I try to read, I get a headache.”

Jason blew out a breath and smiled. This request he had no problem saying yes to. He was just glad Tim didn’t ask him to leave.

“Of course,” Jason accepted, taking the book and thumbing to the page that had the bookmark. “How are you liking this book so far?

“I like it. I already liked Greek mythology, but this makes me like it even more. I don’t trust Luke,” Tim voiced off handedly. He looked at Jason nervously like he was waiting to be shut down for his opinion. “I know I probably should, but I don’t. I don’t care how much he’s helping Percy. There’s something not right about him.”

“I’m liking you more and more, Timmy,” Jason praised, giving him an easy smile. Tim definitely had a future in this family with those deduction skills. “Maintain that energy and sit tight. We’re gonna be here a while.”

Jason and Tim hung out more and more dividing their time together in the library, playing video games in the den, or hanging out in the kitchen baking cookies with Alfred. Jason helped Tim slowly come out of his shell around Bruce and Alfred. A red-faced Tim eventually confessed to Alfred that he hated fish, couldn’t tolerate the texture of carrots or brussel sprouts but loved broccoli, chicken, steak and pasta.

Having Tim around became the very thing Jason had needed all along. Hanging out with Tim kept him more active, which in turn helped the mobility in Jason’s leg. Even his physical therapist was impressed with the progress Jason had made over the past couple of weeks.

Jason liked being a little brother, but he liked being a big brother even more.

[playbucky]

Babysitter.

You left Taipai with Bruce and his mother fifteen years ago, now the trouble is coming to LA along with Charles.  Characters – Reader, Charles, Bruce and Mama Sun.  Word Count - 1.6k

‘Bruce, everything okay?’ You quizzed, he and the other man turned to you, shock evident on their faces.  ‘Yeah, I -,’ He started. He cleared his throat, ‘This is my brother, Charles.’ Bruce introduced him, you sent him a polite smile.  ‘Pleasure to meet you.’ You greeted him with a smile, he glared at you but nodded.  ‘Charles this is Y/N, they used to babysit me.’ He admitted, Charles looked amused.  ‘Is your mother still on for dinner?’  ‘Yeah, I mean if you’re okay with Charles joining?’ Bruce asked, you looked at him then over to Charles, you nodded.  ‘It’d be me interupting a family reunion.’ You joked, Bruce chuckled as Charles gave an awkward one as well, ‘Well, I must go, don’t want to be late.’ You told him, you reached up and ruffled his hair before you smiled at the pair of them and walked away. 

‘What the hell happened?’ You asked, the dish you held in your hand suddenly felt awkward, the three of them turned to you, Bruce and Charles had yellow gloves up to their elbows.  ‘Charles had a surprise visitor.’ Eileen stated, you raised an eyebrow and carefully avoided the mess.  ‘I can see that but who is he?’ You asked, ‘He doesn’t look familiar.’ You said whilst you set the dish down onto the table, Eileen stood up and walked over.  ‘I need you to grab the suitcase.’  ‘Why are you so calm about this?’ Bruce asked, you tilted your head, ‘You knew?’ Bruce said, you nodded and he shook his head.  ‘I left with you and your mother, some added protection.’ You explained, you stepped forward but he held his hands up and you listened.  ‘You never told him?’ Charles asked, you turned to him.  ‘He wasn’t to know anything, so I told him nothing.’ You replied.  ‘Suitcase?’ Eileen questioned, you nodded and walked away from the three of them. 

‘Maybe we should kill him.’ Bruce suggested, Charles’s gaze lifted up before he charged at him, you were quick to step between the two.  ‘Back off.’ You warned Charles, his glare landed on you, Eileen stood at your side.  ‘You’re protecting him? He just screwed up the deal.’ Charles shouted, you bit your tongue as he stepped closer as he tried to intimidate you.  ‘You’d be dead if he didn’t,’ you said, ‘and until Bruce can fight like you, I’m with him.’ You almost snarled.  ‘And it’ll be a long time.’ Charles mumbled, you bite your lip as you stepped backwards, closer to the younger brother, ‘You’ve always took his side, you left with him.’ Charles continued, something snapped inside of you.  ‘I did it because of you.’ You growled, both men looked at you shocked, a loud pop came from your neck as you rolled it.  ‘Your lies won’t win me over.’  ‘Charles get over yourself,’ you hissed, ‘as soon as you killed that man I had to leave.’ You remembered the day that you had to frantically pack.  ‘Precious Ba gave me an option, stay with Bruce or end up in the bin.’ You growled, Charles straightened and shook his head.  ‘He wouldn’t.’ He replied confidently, Bruce looked between the pair of you.  ‘I was your only weakness, I guess he could see something none of us could.’ You said.  ‘I don’t have a weakness.’ Charles blinked.  ‘You refused to train for a week because you hit me.’ You reminded him, he stayed silent as you turned to Eileen.  ‘Evaporated milk?’ You asked, she nodded with a weak smile, ‘I’ll be back in half an hour.’ You told them before you left. 

The shrill ring of your phone pulled you out of the trance you had fallen into slicing spring onions. Quickly you answered the phone and set it on the counter.  ‘May?’ Eileen looked at you, ‘What’s happened?’ You quizzed.  ‘Charles has been arrested.’ She said, both you and Eileen stopped.  ‘When?’ You quizzed, you could hear the commotion of precinct behind him.  ‘Maybe an hour or so, open fire of a weapon.’ She informed you, your eyebrows pinched together.  ‘Do you think you could come down? You’re the only one he’ll listen to Y/N.’ She asked, you grimaced, Eileen violently chopped the carrot.  ‘Yeah, send me which one and I'll be there.’ You told him, she swiftly replied before you hung up.  ‘Tell him the truth.’ Eileen stated, you shook your head.  ‘The truth? I don’t think that will help.’ You told her, she tilted her head but continued to slice.  ‘Well then, use your brain.’ She amended.  ‘If you need anything, message.’ She shooed you away. You grabbed your jacket, sliding your arms through the holes as you left the room. 

‘May, where is he?’ You quizzed, she pointed in the general direction of the cells before she lifted her phone, Bruce’s location said he was moving too quick for his car. You looked at May and she nodded, you rolled your shoulders.  ‘She won’t let me see him.’ May stated, you pulled your lips between your teeth.  ‘Who?’   ‘Alexis.’ May announced, your jaw tensed.  ‘Where is she?’ You quizzed, May jutted her chin behind you as you smiled at him.  ‘Go wait in the car.’ You told him, the soft smile never left until she walked away from you, focused on her phone.  You turned around and took a deep breath, ‘Alexis.’ you called, she lifted her head, shook apparent on her face as she took you in.  ‘Y/N?’ She quizzed, you nodded and gave her a polite smile.  ‘How have you been?’ She questioned.  ‘Could be better.’ You told her, she sighed and nodded, ‘Can I see him?’ You asked.  ‘Who?’ She asked, you arched an eyebrow.  ‘Charles.’ You said.  ‘He isn’t here.’ She lied, you scoffed and rolled your eyes.  ‘I can get you his father.’ You bargained.  ‘What?’ She asked shocked, you licked your lips.  ‘It’s what you want, the big break isn’t it?’ You tilted your head to the side, her eyes narrowed slightly.  ‘I can’t do that.’   ‘Charles is the only one who knows his location.’ You said, her eyes widened slightly.  ‘I can’t.’ She said, you almost snarled at her as you took a step closer, fear flared in her eyes before she pushed it down.  ‘I need two minutes, if you can’t do that then Bruce is as good as dead, even you know that.’   ‘Two minutes.’ She agreed, you gave a tight-lipped smile. 

‘I said I’m not talking.��� Charles announced when the door opened, you arched an eyebrow.  ‘Good, you can listen.’ His head swirled to you and watched as you walked to the other side of the table.  ‘I don’t want to listen.’ He commented, you huffed.  ‘Fine but he has Bruce and for all you say you don’t care, I know you do.’ You warned him.  ‘You sided with him.’ He huffed, you rolled your eyes.  ‘Enough about us.’ You dismissed him.  ‘Why, so you can run away from me?’ He asked, you dipped your head.  ‘It wasn’t you.’  ‘I left with him because of you,’ you admitted, you played with your nails, ‘he meant the world to you so I know I had to keep him safe, had to keep both of them safe.’ You explained.  ‘So, you became a babysitter?’ Charles asked.  ‘Yes, and I would do it over and over to ensure each one of you was safe.’ You tapped your fingers against the surface of the table.  ‘You might not to admit it but if Ba kills Bruce, it will kill you.’ You crouched, so Charles struggled to avoid looking at you.  ‘I don’t care.’ He grumbled, you closed your eyes briefly.  ‘Charles, he’s doing it to prove a point to you,’ you started, hands clenched in front of you, ‘He wants to be your little brother, he wants you to be proud of him and wants your approval.’ You finished, Charles looked at you.  ‘He’s at the house, how am I going to get Bruce out?’ He gestured to the cuffs before he lifted his gaze again.  ‘You’re not,’ you exhaled, ‘I’m going to get him, you need to stay here.’ You chapped the table again.  ‘So why have you come here?’ He asked.  ‘We both know I'm not gonna make it out this meeting.’ You said, Charles eyes widened slightly before he shook his head, ‘I just wanted to say bye.’ You added, you stepped to his side, you rested a hand to the back of his head before you pressed a kiss to the top of his head.  ‘It was nice to see you again Charles, please treat him with kindness.’ You whispered, you pulled back and walked away before he could reply you walked away and left him in the room. 

‘Y/N.’ Charles breathed, you smiled up at him.  ‘You good?’  ‘I’m good.’ You replied, you pushed yourself up and he helped you up.  ‘You’re out of prison.’ You commented, Charles scoffed and pulled you in for a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around you.  ‘And you’re still alive.’ He said, his eyes took you in as he pulled back.  ‘I am.’   ‘What happened?’ Charles questioned, you rubbed your shoulder.  ‘Bruce shot him.’ You stated, Charles whipped around to his brother.  ‘What?’ He asked, confused at what he was hearing.  ‘Right through the stomach, Ba will spend the rest of his days in a prison hospital before being promoted to maximum prison.’ You said, Charles looked shocked as he turned to Bruce, who smiled shyly.   ‘Seems like you’ve learnt the family way.’ Charles said, Bruce shook his head.  ‘No, I learnt the Y/N.’ Bruce commented, you tilted your head to the side, Charles chuckled.  ‘Yeah, think we should learn some things from them more often.’ He stated. 

Tags - @tzddybear @sinclxirx @your-favorite-god @bellelove0130 @orlandoblumhouseofguccimane @angeleqao3etc @yzzxbel @sazura

[strangeshoepatrolbandit]

Really excited for how your brotherly love series will go. And I just love how you included Tim and Jason because they’re my faves.

Can’t wait to read about some bonding between Jason and the reader

Sorry this is gonna be a long ass ask because there’s just a lot of things I want to comment on and ask.

There’s so many avenues you can explore. I’m kind of surprised only Damian is the only one who decides to take up crime fighting while the twin is fine with staying behind and exploring the mansion. One question I have is does the reader ever feel as if they’re living in Damian’s shadow? Like especially since Bruce bonds with Damian since Damian has taken up the mantle of Robin, then I’m gonna assume that Dick and Tim also spend time training their successor. Between training, vigilante duties, and time running Wayne Enterprises, that doesn’t leave a lot of free time. Does the reader ever feel left out/ignored or that Damian is the favorite? Or in other words, since the reader hasn’t thrown a tantrum that they’re stuck at the manor and they mainly seem to keep to themselves, do Bruce, Dick, and Tim seem to think Damian is a higher flight risk/the twin that is more reckless and needs more attention?

Poor reader. It hit a little close to home on the insecurities of being irritating/a nuisance to those your love.

Two, I think it’s so sweet that the reader was able to open up to Alfred that Damian yelled at them. I love how at least one of the Wayne’s is able to be open and express their emotions in a healthy way.

Three, you know how DCAU’s Batman vs Robin, Damian has a hard time getting past the security system. Idk but especially since Damian is the one who took up the mantle of Robin and it seems as if his primary focus is on training, I think it’d be such a funny thing to see him frustrated that his twin can bypass the security system with ease when the last time they picked up a sword or did any kind of conditioning was months ago before they lived with Bruce. And even Bruce, Dick, and Tim are scratching their heads since they thought you were the more well behaved and quiet one they didn’t have to worry about.

Damian: *fuming* I trained 18 hours every day for the past two months and couldn’t bypass the electric fence. How were you able to get pass the security system and then travel all the way to another country without any one detecting you until you got back?

Reader: *shrugs* don’t know. Maybe you’re rusty.

Next point, I mean especially since you mentioned that Jason’s eyes were an unnatural shade of green and he has that white streak in his hair, you can have the reader get inspired after hearing Jason’s story. They sneak away from the manor and try to (or successfully??) revive Ra’s by digging up their grandparents corpse and dunking it in the Lazarus pit.

That would be such an interesting parenting moment between Bruce and the reader. Poor Bruce can’t catch a break. He has to sit one kid down to explain why murder is not justice and then talk to the other kid that death is a natural part of life and it is not normal and somewhat questionably unethical to sneak out of the house to dig up your grandfather’s corpse and dip them in a magical lake to bring them back to life

Bruce: *sitting across from the reader rubbing his temples* so hypothetically if your hamster died, would you dunk it in a Lazarus pit because you missed them

Reader: I don’t know. I’ve never had a hamster.

But judging by your tone, I assume you want me to answer no..? You told Damian it was wrong to kill Deathstroke to take revenge for killing grandfather. Hypothetically, if if a very very very bad parakeet killed your hamster—

Bruce: dear god you’ve spent way too much with Jason

Anyways sorry to bug you with the long ass ramble. Hope some of it made sense. Bottom line, I’m looking forward to what comes next and if you ever need a beta reader or just want to spitball/brainstorm with anyone I’m all ears

You were not bugging me at all, I'm so glad that you enjoyed my story!!<333.

(I hope I make sense in this I have issues explaining things so bear with me)

To go over some of your topics, I feel that Damian is more career driven and felt comfortable being Robin because his life was spent being trained to be an assassin. I feel as if the reader is taking a break from the life they were forced to have by trying to live a "normal" life at the Manor. I will now go more into the topics of reader's insecurities, as we know they feel like they are annoying the people they are around, after a while they start to see how everyone is treating Damian like a normal person, whilst they are being treated like a child(even though they are), and they start to think that since Damian has been proving himself they just like him more. Everyone in the Manor does love them though, it's just Damian has hobbies in common with them so they feel that they have more to talk about(Wayne enterprises/Vigilante work), plus reader just stopped hanging out with everyone so how can people get to know them?

Yes, I wanted the reader to be able to have a healthy coping mechanism such as talking, literally all of the batfam has bad issues with talking except for Jason because homeboy goes to therapy(he too is an ex emotionally constipated person). Also yes reader does just have that magic touch, they are an Al-Ghul/Wayne, everyone knows reader was trained the exact same as Damian so it's a little bizarre that they are so good at something after being away from their training.

The reader is much aware of Ra's dips in the Lazarus pit and how it's kept him alive all these years, but I think that they understand that there is no help for Ra's, just like Talia said "the pit can't help a body that far gone"(or something), the reader is a little upset that after Jason had been beaten and put in a building with a bomb that the Lazarus pit still had a way to revive him(Reader and Damian both love animals and have definitely been in trouble for reviving random animals with dips in the pit LMAO). Reader, Damian, and Talia all share the same hatred for Deathstroke and all want him gone, whilst Damian and Talia are attempting to find and kill Deathstroke, reader just sits back because they know Talia has it handled. After spending time with Jason and sympathizing with him about his death, Bruce realizes that reader is all for getting revenge on people, they never did anything about Deathstroke but fully agree and understand Jason's reasoning behind wanting the Joker dead.

This actually meant so much, I'm sososososo glad you enjoyed Pt.1 of Brotherly Love!!! I have had a terrible night and this made it better!!!<33

( I definitely projected in this story, does anyone else have sibling issues?)

....Much love, Strangeshoepatrolbandit....

[awakandanavenger]

Hello! If you have the time, may I ask for a Natasha x former avenger reader fic? It takes place two years after endgame and Natasha and Tony are brought back to life by the power of science and magic (Idk maybe Strange and Banner worked together to bring them back, you decide how) and Natasha finds out reader went down a dark path from grief of losing Nat and has been doing vigilante stuff like how Clint was doing when being ronin. And she finds her and knocks some sense into her and it’s a tearful reunion?

Come To Your Senses (Natasha x g!nReader)

Summary: Natasha and Tony are brought back to life. Nat finds you while you're continuing Barton's mission as Ronin. She has to knock the sense into you to stop and come home.

Word Count: 768 (Still short but still longer than the last one)

Warnings - Mentions of reader being criminal but not sure if there is anything else? Let me know if there is.

A/N - As for the person who requested this, sorry it took so long to write, university is keeping me busy but any other requests you guys want to send I'll do as soon as I can! Remember ya'll, NO SMUT REQUESTS!

It has been two years since Thanos was defeated and honestly… I couldn’t care less if the world is safe once again. I have nothing left worth protecting now that she is gone. In fact, I do not care to the point where I’ve took it upon myself to continue Barton’s mission from during the time of the blip. I hunt down and slaughter every criminal I can find. At least then there would be some satisfaction for the world, and me.

Just now I am waiting to ambush a gang of criminals. They have been drug dealing and the usual shit. Still. They kill people who try and stop them so it is up to me to stop them if no one else can. I take my sword from my waist belt. But just as I am about to run inside and complete my mission, a finger taps my shoulder and I whirl around with sword aimed ready to attack whoever it was that tapped me but who I saw made me drop my sword with a loud clang. Luckily, none of the criminals inside heard.

“What are you doing here?” She asks. “No. Not possible. You’re dead.” I say not believing who is right in front of me. It’s my imagination surely! “It’s really me. I’m back. So is Tony.” I step forward to her and gently feel the locks of her red hair. “You’re real? But how?” “Bruce and Dr Strange came together and found a way to bring us both back to life.” Wait, what if this is a trick? What if this is a shapeshifter and is finding a way to get to me to kill me? I have made a lot of enemies over the last two years, so it is possible.

“You’re hesitant which is understandable.” “Damn straight. For all I know, you’re not really Nat.” She raises her eyebrow. “What do you mean?” “Well, for all I know, you could be a shapeshifter. Those exist.” “Well, I’m not that. When they brought me back my first thought was to find you. Bruce told me everything that’s been going on and where to find you. That’s how I knew.” It is true. Nat was always protective of me but still, everyone knew that. Then I got an idea. “Okay, if you really are Nat and not a shifter. What was the first moment we both shared when we realised we belonged together?” Only the real Nat would know. “The first moment we shared together was that night when I had a nightmare about the Red Room. You rushed to comfort me, and it was the sound of your heartbeat that lulled me back to sleep. The next morning you said if the sound of your heartbeat helps me sleep, you’d gladly stay forever.” It’s true. That was our first real moment that I admitted to myself that I’d love and take care of her from that point on.

Now that I am certain she is the real Natasha, I wonder why she even came back for me in the first place. “Okay, so my question to you Nat is why are you even here? Surely Bruce or Strange must know what I’ve been… am doing.” “That’s exactly the reason I came to find you. To stop you continuing your ‘mission’. Clint did the exact same thing but even he was able to put his dangerous behaviour aside when he got his family back.” “What? And you’re expecting me to do the same now that you’re back?” “I don’t expect you to do anything. It is your choice. I just hope you make the right one. If you do, I’ll be at the Avengers tower.”

That got me thinking. So, if I am understanding this correctly, she will take me back if I stop killing criminals. Hmm, I suppose I could change the mission so they get arrested instead because no way in hell am I stopping completely. Plus, if the Avengers get back together, that way in a way, my mission can continue but in the right way.

Just as Nat was about to leave, I grabbed her hand, and she stops. “You’re right.” And I explain my thoughts of wanting to continue but in the right way. Surprisingly, she agrees. “So, you’ll come back home?” She asks me. I sigh knowing she’s going to keep finding me until I agree to go back. “Sure.” I speak. In all honesty, I can’t believe I am going back, with Natasha no less. It’s enough to make us both cry of happiness knowing.

Hope you all liked this one! Don't forget, I still take requests and Nat isn't the only character I accept requests for. There is also Wanda Maximoff, Shuri, Queen Ramonda, Nakia and Okoye! NO SMUT AS MENTIONED! Hope to see your requests soon! :)

[gunebuggieswriting]

̶Good Bad Habits Run In The Family: Chapter Ten

DPxDC Crossover, Jason Adopts Danny AU

[AO3] [FF.net] [Wattpad]

First Chapter || << Last Chapter || Next Chapter >>

"You're related to Red Robin?"

Jason kind of wished he could be re-buried at the moment, knowing he was going to have to explain a lot. He could only hope that Danny wouldn't freak out too much, or any of the other bats for that matter. He already knew Tim had linked him with Danny, and that he probably knew that Danny was the new meta, but the rest of them didn't know. Bruce would most likely be furious that Jason was hiding information about a pressing subject, or for that matter hiding an actual meta with him. Not like he cared what the older man thought.

Sighing deeply, his hands rubbing his face with new found stress, he looked at Danny. The teen's eyes were wide, holding both shock and a layer of fear, stirring the inside of Jason’s stomach. He didn't like the idea that Tim had done something to Danny to make him this on edge, right when he was finally starting to relax around Jason.

Deciding to stop dragging it out, and to put them both out of their misery, he leaned forward. "For one, you can't call him that in public, secret identity and all that."

Danny, after hearing Jason's voice, snapped back to reality, his eyes more focused and analytical towards Jason. The sharp eyes were tinted with a bit of green, like it was barely being restrained, unsettling Jason more the longer he looked. "That doesn't answer my question. I thought you two just worked together or something! Are you all related?" Danny's hands were moving frantically as he quickly spoke, showing how frazzled the situation has made him.

"Well, kinda, but not really?" Danny deadpanned at Jason, his answer not being really helpful. Jason grumbled a few curses, uncomfortable as he ran a hand through his hair, no doubt messing it up. "Most of us are adopted, so we're technically related, just not by blood."

Danny was staring at Jason with a critical expression, trying to process everything that the man just told him. Then it all seemed to suddenly click and Danny almost fell out of his chair from realization, jaw gaping with surprise, causing a few other customers turning towards him confused. "You're Jason Todd, aren't you? How did I not figure that out earlier?" Danny was leaning back in his chair, a hand over his mouth as he continued to think.

Jason was dumbfounded, as he already thought that Danny would've put two and two together. Surely he would recognize him from Bruce? Perhaps he was being too egotistical and not everybody immediately knew him like he thought. Years in the spotlight and constantly being headlines for news would do that to somebody. "Yeah? I honestly thought you already knew."

"No? Why would I? I don't keep up with all the Wayne drama, wait, does that mean Wes was right? There's no way that Bruce is-" Danny stopped himself before he finished his sentence, but both of his hands were in his hair and slightly tugging on them. "It makes so much more sense now."

Jason could tell he wasn’t the only one feeling overwhelmed, after all this is a lot of information to take in. That didn’t stop him from wanting to know Danny’s thoughts, surely him being acquainted with the Wayne's didn’t change anything, right? "First of all, who the hell is Wes and what does he know? Second of all, you need to shut the fuck up a little, we're in public. Third of all, what do you mean it all makes more sense?" Amy had come back with their food, placing them down in front of the two. She must have noticed the difference in atmosphere, not being nearly as laid-back as earlier, keeping quiet as she walked away, not wanting to get in the middle of whatever was happening.

Danny seemed somewhat anxious to talk now that he was the one being questioned. His hands released their grip on his hair and began to fiddle with his shirt. "Well, um, Wes is just somebody from my school, or the one I used to go to. He comes up with all kinds of conspiracy theories like that, nobody ever takes him seriously, so don't worry about him." Jason couldn't help but think to Benard and how that all went, and he frowned, knowing that he probably should worry about this Wes guy. Though Danny was clearly uncomfortable having to speak of his past, so he wouldn't push it for now.

"Alright, what about the whole making 'more sense' thing?" Jason pressed, wondering if Danny already had a suspicion of his relationship with the others, or if this somehow made his view of Jason different. He hoped not, he hated being looked at with a difference only because he was known as the "son of Bruce Wayne who died and came back".

Danny's hand, which seemed to not quit moving, began to scratch the back of his neck. He was biting his lip, nervous as he debated on what he should tell Jason. Hopefully he doesn't find what he says rude or upsetting, like it would for many others. "Well, it makes sense why you have such a powerful aura of death around you. I thought it was because of the whole crime lord thing and killing others, but now I know why it felt so much different from the others."

"Death aura? What do you mean by that?" Jason questioned, but he knew what Danny was referring to, he just wanted to ignore it. The swirls of discomfort were him, not another force, he was far past that. He knew he was. His vision was clear, and he would keep it like that. There was no pit other problem.

"The stories were true, weren't they? You died before, haven't you?" Danny asked Jason, with an air so nonchalant that it made Jason both curious and uncomfortable.

Jason didn't want to answer that, to be forced to remember and face a reality he wanted to keep buried with the rest of his past whenever he dug himself out, so he ignored it. Danny already knew what his answer would be anyways. Jason had a feeling that Danny knew all too well, and it only made those green specks in his eyes be that more concerning. "Is that 'death aura' how you knew it was Tim earlier, since apparently everybody's is different?"

Danny let the fact that Jason danced around his question go, understanding the way he didn't want to go into more details. Danny didn't like his past being explored either, so it was only fair. The teen took a bite of his fry, surprised that the green seasoned food was actually decent, before speaking. "Yeah, sorta. Usually most people have little to no hint of death on them. Though you bunch seem to all be affected one way or another. Red- Tim's is quite powerful and a lot different than yours. It seems he's killed quite a few people, even more so than the crime lord himself."

Jason was beginning to get used to how relaxed Danny talked about these things, as if being revived from the dead or killing people were something that came to no surprise. Though the thought of Tim having killed more people than him did take him back a little. He knew that Tim was a bit unhinged at times, but surely the replacement followed Bruce's strict "no killing" rule.

"So, about that family dinner?" Danny asked after he ate a few more of his fries, not liking how awkward the silence was getting. They were getting along so well a few minutes ago, and now it felt like they were right back in the warehouse that night that Jason dragged him there. Then after a few  of those tense seconds he continued. "And your adopted family?"

The man swallowed the bite of his burger, and then took a big gulp of his tea, his throat suddenly dry. He never really liked talking about the others, and them being referred to as "family" made him somewhat queasy, a rise of longing unnecessary emotions he wanted to block. "You don't have to come if you don't want to. Though it might make it easier to explain everything to them if you do." Jason saw how Danny's lips pulled into a small frown, quickly glancing away from the other, and he suddenly felt like he was pressuring him too much. "Of course, you still don't have to. We can sit this one out and chill in my apartment, maybe fix up your room some more."

Danny looked at Jason, his frown now more thoughtful. "Can you tell me more about them?"

"Huh? You mean the people who will be at the dinner?" Jason asked, a part of him surprisingly pleased at there being a chance Danny will want to go. It was either because he wanted to resolve the unavoidable drama that was bound to happen or because he was craving some more of Alfred’s food, perhaps both. It wasn't that he was wanting to introduce them to Danny, or try to make Danny feel more comfortable with them.

"Yeah, maybe if I already sorta know what to expect I might be okay with going." Danny explained, already half way done with his burger and still working on his pile of fries. It made sense to Jason, as he knows how overwhelming new situations and a huge group of people can be. Especially with Danny having been homeless before, there was a possibility that the prospect of being around more than well off people could cause insecurity. Jason knew that personally, having been there once. Danny may need time to warm up to the idea.

"I'm going to be honest, they're mainly idiots." Jason said past his burger, waving his hand, Danny letting out a small chuckle. "Although they can be a lot at times, they usually mean well. Except for Damian, that little brat is evil and he lets you know, so I'd be careful around him until he warms up to you. Kind of like a feral chihuahua really."

That caused Danny's growing smile to become a full on grin. "Wait, if all of you are- well y’know, does that mean he's…" Danny asked without finishing his words, but Jason understood nonetheless. He nodded, a confused look on his face, wondering why Damian being Robin would matter. "Man, I already like him. He's such a good kid."

The anti-hero almost choked on his food hearing the earnest way Danny had just complimented the small demon. After composing himself once more, he looked at the furrowed eyebrows on the teen's pale face. "Are we talking about the same kid here? Damian is literally the most violent one of us, he'd stab you over a cookie if he wanted it."

Danny tilted his head, but a smile formed on his face anyways. "He still means well. I mean, he's a kid, I know they can be a little feisty sometimes."

"I'm sure the highly trained 'kid' would love to hear that. I would never expect a knife in your shoulder by the end of the night." Jason replied sarcastically, balling up his trash, finally having eaten his food. Danny was still eating the last few of his fries, having stolen half of Jason's as well as they were talking. Not that the man minded, wanting Danny to eat as much as he wanted in order to gain some more meat on his thinned figure. He didn't like how sickly Danny had gotten to look after his time stuck in the warehouse and then on the streets, it made a worm of guilt work its way into Jason, knowing he should've done more. 

Danny, not knowing Jason's inner turmoil, laughed, showing a bit of those canines that seemed to have grown since last time. Jason didn't know if Danny could control that or not, so he chalked it up to the nonhuman part of the kid. "He likes me! Plus I can easily heal from any attacks, that is if I don't just plain out avoid them. Who knows, maybe we can rough house a little." Danny said with an easygoing smile, brushing off the threat without any doubts. Jason knew that the other had powers, but he felt like he may need to teach him about self preservation skills.

Then Jason remembered the best part about the dinners, and he knew that this would win the boy over. "Hey, you remember some of that food I fed you while you lived in the warehouse?"

Danny nodded, curious as to where this was going. "Yeah, it was pretty good. Definitely the best food I've had in a while."

Jason smirked, "Well, you'd get more of that food at the dinner. Alfred, the best cook in the world, always fixes everything. Now, imagine fresh food like that." Danny perked up at that, and Jason knew he had found the right bait. After all, it was what Alfred used to get him over there every weekend. It wasn't because he wanted to help cook, feeling like a kid again. "Sounds good, doesn't it? Who knows, maybe for being a guest he might give you an extra chocolate chip cookie. Trust me, they are to die for."

Danny smiled at the small joke, but his mind mainly focused on the promise of good food. Perhaps this dinner wouldn't be such a bad idea, plus, he would be able to see Robin again, or Damian in this case. He wonders if the short tween would act any differently out of the costume, or any of the others for that sake. He was nervous meeting Signal again, and the thought of Tim made him squirm, hating how the constant loom of being watched had felt days before. He could only hope that they wouldn't jump on him with too many questions as soon as he showed up.

After a few minutes of debating internally with himself, weighing the pros and cons, he came up with a decision. "I guess I'll go, but if anything happens I'm leaving."

Jason couldn't ask for any more, already surprised that Danny agreed at all. "Don't worry, I leave anytime they annoy me too much. They know not to fuck with me."

"You sure it's not just because you're a big baby and they don't want to upset you?" Danny asked, raising a teasing eyebrow as Jason's face erupted into red, stammering out some denial that sounded more like complaining.

"I am not a 'big baby', and I can easily pummel you and them. I can already imagine how well you're gonna get along with Dick, it's going to a fucking nightmare." Jason continued to grumble, glaring at Danny across from him, the teen laughing at his misery.

"I'm already starting to get excited for this dinner now. When are we going this weekend?" Danny finally asked after calming down from his giggle fit, which Jason had suffered through. He wanted to make the kid laugh more, to just let the other be a teen.

Jason smoothed out his disheveled hair with a few quick swipes of his hand, huffing a bit before he spoke. "This Saturday, so tomorrow."

Danny slightly freaked out, not expecting it to be so soon. Though he already told Jason he'd go, and he didn't want to back out now. The man may not show it, but he obviously wanted Danny to go with him. A small part of him also wanted to go, to have a chance to be normal again. "Alright, so what will we do for the rest of the day?"

Jason thought about it, and realized he didn't exactly have anything else planned. He shrugged, making the other boy roll his eyes. "What do you want to do?"

At first the raven haired boy seemed taken back, not expecting the question to be turned on him, as he had nothing in mind. He looked at Jason's relaxed posture, realizing that he meant it, that Danny could choose anything. He thought it over, coming to a simple conclusion, one he hoped the man wouldn't mind. "Can we just go back to the apartment? I kinda had enough for today…" It was true, Danny was ready for a nap after the meal and amount of things he did. He may have only spent a few weeks closed off from society, and then a week of being completely homeless, but it was enough for him to no longer feel comfortable in public. It wasn't because he felt like he didn't deserve this, this sense of normalcy in a life he ruined, or the many others he ruined as well.

"That's a good idea, I'll need a bit of rest before patrol later anyways." The anti-hero said, standing up and grabbing both of their trash to throw away, before walking to the door. Danny nodded while following along, being brought out of his thoughts, and he couldn't help but realize he sort of forgot that Jason was Red Hood. It wasn't because it was unbelievable, the two had the same build and attitude, but by how normal Jason was compared to Red Hood. Sure, Jason was the adopted son of a billionaire with a crazy back story, but other than that he was still another civilian. Adding in the whole vigilante stick made it that more surreal. Or too close to something more familiar to him.

Danny remembers whenever he used to do patrol, the insane amount of fights he'd get in, especially at night. He missed doing them sometimes, he really missed his friends. Danny realized that he had been silent for a few seconds longer than usual, Jason looking at him somewhat concerned. "I can always skip one, I know I could do with a bit of a vacation." He said, wanting to make sure that the younger boy would be fine on his own.

Danny quickly shook his head. "No, I'm fine!" The man looked unconvinced, so the other tried to put on a small smile. "Really! I was just thinking about how bizarre my life kind of is right now." The partial lie worked, Jason letting out a small huff of amusement.

"I bet, compared to how most people would react, you've been taking it all pretty well." Jason lightly nudged at Danny, who in turn tried and failed to push the bulky man.

After an annoyed huff Danny straightened back up to walk better, knowing how clumsy he could be. It was what started this all in the first place. "I kinda take things in stride, go with flow y’know." He did a wave with his hand, before thinking about how silly he probably looked and shoving his hand back in his pocket.

"I like that attitude, don't let life drag you down. You know people who have your back no matter what, why worry all the time?" Jason meant for it to be light hearted, maybe even encouraging to a degree, but Danny’s smile quickly faded from it. Before Jason could ask what was wrong, Danny looked away, his expression now carefully crafted to be blank. The older man felt terrible, not knowing what he said wrong. He knew he shouldn’t ever give advice, as he hasn't lived the best life, or try and take care of a teen for that matter.

Danny on the other hand was trying his hardest to not let his thoughts wander to those who he should've been there for, or the fact that he shouldn’t allow people close to him, to let them want to help him. The guilt he's been repressing came back full force, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his rising tears at bay, cursing how emotional he could be from some simple good natured words. Though he couldn't help but feel as if he shouldn’t have 'gone with the flow'. If he thought things through, not have been so impulsive and selfish, then the others would still be here. He would be with his friends, his family, the town he loved but was forced to leave behind because of his mistakes.

It didn't even seem that he learned his lesson, doing everything he regretted all over again. He told himself that he wouldn't be so selfish ever again, and then he goes and decides to pull more innocent people into the mess that is his afterlife life. How could he be so laid-back, so careless, after everything that's happened?

"-kid? Hey, can you hear me?" Danny's haze was broken from the wave of Jason’s hand in front of him and voice.

"Huh? Sorry, kinda spaced out for a second. What is it?" Danny asked, nervously scratching at the back of his neck, keeping his head turned slightly away as he blinked back tears. 

"We made it back and you tried to keep on walking, so I called your name and you didn't answer." Yeah, Danny was so not getting out of this. "Are you okay?" The teen opened his mouth to make up another lie, hoping his luck would work a second time. Before he could get a word out, Jason raised a hand stopping him. "Actually, I know you're not, so don't say you are. I know you don't wanna talk about it, but know that I am here and I'm not leaving, no matter how stubborn you are to not realize that. You can't get rid of me kid, after all I always come back."

The tears began running down midway through Jason's small rant, and he was wiping at them furiously, though he finally turned back to Jason. He was clearly out of his element, not used to comforting, but it made Danny feel a bit better anyways. To hear the words made it somewhat easier to swallow, to put into reality as he forced his other thoughts back down. He wished he wouldn't cry as much, hating how it felt like he was only being a burden to the other.

Jason hesitated to take Danny's arm and lead him into the apartment so that he could cry more openly, not wanting to make the crying teen run away by the sudden touch. He did anyway, seeing how some people passing by were giving them weird looks, and he glared at a few before gently grabbing Danny's arm. He didn't expect for the other to latch onto him in turn, turning his head to sob into the outer part of his arm as he walked slowly to the door of the apartment.

As soon as they entered, Jason wrapped his arms around Danny. Danny didn't hug back, only slightly burying his face into the man's chest as he tried to calm himself down. He didn't want to cry now, ruining the good mood that they had built back up. He pushed himself away from Jason, yet some of him yearned to be hugged right now, to be told that it was going to be okay. He knew it would never be, and that he deserved that.

Danny sucked in a desperate gulp of air, sounding more like a hiccup than anything as he held his hands above his face, trying to hide it. "I'm- I'm just going to go take a nap." He barely stuttered out, not waiting for an answer as he quickly went to his room and shut the door. This left Jason there, his hand outreached to try and stop the upset teen, but not knowing if he should. This was something that he didn't know how to handle. When it came to comforting, he only knew the basics, such as reassurance and hugs. Complex emotions like this he couldn't handle, and it made him feel guilty that he couldn't actually help Danny through whatever he was going through, even though he promised he would.

The man sighed, slipping off his leather jacket as he wondered if he may have bit more than he could chew this time. He wouldn't ever give up on Danny, but he may not be what the teen needed at the moment. If only Alfred was here, he'd know what to do.

He wasn't though, leaving it all up to Jason, who couldn't do anything. He ran a hand through his hair, not caring if it got messed up as he walked over to his barely standing couch. He laid down on it, enjoying how his body sunk into the well worn cushions, pulling one of the small pillows he had to lay his head on. He wanted to help Danny, but he was somewhat overwhelmed himself, and he had a feeling that giving some space may be better anyways. He wasn't lying earlier either whenever he said he would like a nap, still planning to go out that night. Danny most likely wouldn't leave him room for the rest of the day, so Jason would just leave him a plate of food before he left to go on his patrol.

He'd make it a quick one tonight. His people wouldn't mind if he canceled one meeting and instead checked up on them, as there was no way he would be able to focus for too long anyways. Most of his thoughts would circle around Danny, like they have been for the last few weeks. His worry had eased after wrangling Danny into his apartment, but now it was worse with how sullen the boy looked earlier. He still didn't understand what he said or did to cause such a reaction, but he guessed that it could be anything, though it had to be related to whatever trauma Danny had gone through and that was enough. He wanted to apologize, but that could cause Danny to feel guilty for making Jason feel like he did something wrong.

He was beginning to get a headache from thinking so deeply about something he had little intelligence in, so he shut his eyes. He didn't  bother to take off his shirt with the small wet spot in it, the coldness of it a stark reminder to how he failed Danny was. It didn't really matter though, as no matter what he couldn't block out the quiet sniffles and sobs coming from the other room, or the countless thoughts running through his own head.

They might not make it to dinner tomorrow after all.

[kumeko]

A/N: For the @legacieszine! When you find out Stan Lee created a character named Stripperella…this is what comes out of it XD You have no idea how much it pained me to keep Dick out of this fic. Double entendre intended 😉

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Slack-jawed as he sat in a booth, there were two things Wally was certain of at this moment. The first was that this night would haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Wow, you really know how to pick them,” Kyle snidely said, smirking as he tugged on his collar. As usual, the guy was wearing a dress shirt, as though it would kill him to wear anything but a button-up. It was slightly open for once, revealing a black t-shirt underneath. He whistled low. “Perfect spot, really.”

And the second was that he was glad Dick wasn’t here. He might never live this mistake down, but at least he didn’t have to hear about it everyday now. Wally groaned as he leaned back into the vinyl seat. “Shut it.”

“I thought you said you frequented this place often?” Connor asked, his hands interlaced on his lap as he gazed around curiously. Wally half-wondered if this was his first time at a club—the man was as strait-laced as they came, despite who his father was. Or maybe it was because of.

As much as Bruce Wayne acted like a playboy in public, Oliver Queen lived the part. Sometimes Wally wondered just how Oliver ever caught Dinah’s attention, but there were some mysteries in life that couldn’t be explained. Even in a world of magic, gods, and the supernatural.

“I don’t!” Wally hissed, rubbing his forehead as he glanced around the so-called gentlemen’s club. The lighting gave the place a strange electric blue and pink tint, with the light at its brightest at the center stage. Women pole-danced, hooking their high heels around the metal pipe as they twirled. It was the same as any other strip club, save for one important difference: their outfits.

Of all the nights he could have picked, he had to pick the themed night. And the theme? Heroes and Villains.

At this rate, it was going to get carved on his tombstone. The only good thing was that they were sitting further back; if they got any closer, the strippers would swarm Connor. As it was, Wally could already feel dozens of eyes directed at his friend.

In more ways than one, he wasn’t sure if he could survive seeing Power Girl or Huntress flirting shamelessly with Connor.

“Methinks he doth protest too much,” Kyle teased, wetting his lips as he gazed around. Slouching in his seat, he gave a wicked smirk. “Does Linda know?”

“She doesn’t because there’s nothing to know,” Wally ground out, gripping the table tightly. Dick had once asked how they were friends and even now, he didn’t know the answer. Kyle was reliable, sure, but he was also an infuriating git.

As usual, Connor intervened before things got bloody. Curious, he thatched his fingers and rested his elbows on the table before leaning forward. “So, who brought you here?”

It was a question he didn’t want to answer. Not in front of Kyle. Wally dragged a hand through his hair, watching the green lantern from the corner of his eye. “Hal,” he admitted reluctantly. “After Barry…” He swallowed the lump in his throat, it still hurt to think of either of his uncles. Death was a common danger in his line of work, but that didn’t make it any easier.

They had once been with him and now they weren’t. Wally bit his cheek and forced himself to continue. “When I didn’t have to use a fake id anymore, Hal brought me here as a birthday treat. Carol and Irene were pissed after, but what’s new there?”

You’re legal now, kid, Hal had told him, his arm slung across his shoulder. There had been three beers on the table and without asking, Wally had known it was for Barry. Had Barry and Hal talked about this before? Was this something that had been planned? It was a question he had never gotten around to asking and now he’d never know the answer.

Wally should have known not to delay. He knew better than most about regrets. His shoes fit comfortably now, but he'd stepped into them quicker than he’d wanted.

“Hal?” Kyle flinched. His teeth bit his lip softly as he examined the club with new eyes. He chuckled mirthlessly. “It has his taste.”

An awkward silence fell between them. Wally wasn’t sure if that last part was an insult or not. Perhaps this was why they fought so much; Hal’s death was still a sore wound, regardless of how it happened. Part of him still thought of the man as family. It was hard sometimes to look at Kyle’s ring without wondering if it should be there.

Connor broke the silence first. He sat a little straighter, craning his neck as he watched someone walk over. “Our drinks are coming.”

“What?” Wally turned to see who Connor was looking at. “We didn’t order any….”

He trailed off as a bombshell blonde walked over. Her blue-black crop top and miniskirt left little to the imagination and a thin cloth mask covered her eyes. In her hands was a tray with three beer bottles and a bottle opener. She stopped in front of Connor and winked. “Three beers?”

Kyle rolled his eyes. He muttered under his breath, “Every time. I swear to god.”

Wally had met a few deities in his time and he wanted to question every single one of them. How Connor managed to charm women before he even opened his mouth was a mystery. At this point, it really had to be genetic.

And despite Connor’s awkwardness, he didn’t seem too flustered by the attention. He put one of the beer’s back onto the server’s tray. “I’ll just have a club soda.”

“Really?” their server pouted. “It’s ah lot more fun drinkin’, sugah.”

“Yes,” Connor replied firmly. It was one of the few things he was stubborn about.

“Boo.” The woman pouted once more, her plump lips pressed tight against each other. She spun on her heel, about to walk away, before glancing over her shoulder. “Reminds me, ah’m Stripperella today, but you can call me Exotica Jones.”

“Stripperella,” Wally repeated despite himself. The name was very on the nose.

“Yeah!” Encouraged, she spun around, as though to show off her outfit. “Wanted to come up with somethin’ original. Stand out ah little. Ah’ll go get you that drink, hun.”

The theme. Wally groaned again. “In my defense, every other time I’ve been here was normal. I didn’t even know they had themed nights.”

Kyle smirked like a cat that caught the canary. “Sure you didn’t.”

There was nowhere to look where there wasn’t a costume he recognized. How was Wally supposed to go to the JLA tomorrow after seeing Vixen on the pole or Supergirl in a cage? Hell, how was he supposed to look at Clark after that? At least the man didn’t have mind-reading in his powerset, or Wally would be really screwed.

Though, a small part of him was certain Bruce already knew about this visit and it was a good thing he was the most tight-lipped person on the planet.

“The costumes are surprisingly accurate,” Connor commented, his fingers lightly rapping on the table in unfamiliar patterns. Of course that was what he noticed.

Kyle rubbed his chin as he studied the place with a new eye. “Huh, you’re right. Didn’t think they’d put in that much effort. I wonder if that makes it worse?”

“Worse,” Wally stated flatly. “So much worse.”

This wasn’t the way he had planned for the night to go. When Dick and Kory announced their engagement, Wally saw his chance. For years, Donna had claimed the spot of Dick’s best friend. But Donna couldn’t host a stag party.

And that’s where Dick’s other best friend came in. Better yet, if Wally did this right, he might demote Donna in the pecking order and get bragging rights.

But only if he did it right.

A woman dressed as Donna Troy walked by and Wally shuddered. “Yeah, that’s it. We’re going. This isn’t it.”

“Oh, what’s this I hear?” Kyle dramatically cupped his ear. The ass. “You did something wrong? I thought professionals never get things wrong.”

“It’s not wrong if I didn’t know this would happen,” Wally snapped back, glowering at his so-called ‘friend’.

“I thought professionals are supposed to be prepared for everything?” Kyle needled. Like a dog, he refused to let go.

“Being professional is recognizing when you can and can’t be prepared,” Wally retorted, half-rising. “Unlike an amateur who’s never ready.”

Just as they were about to get up, Stripperella sashayed back, her hips swinging as she held a fancy glass filled with bubbling club soda. Wally and Kyle glanced at their beer bottles and then at the tables nearby before sitting down, deflated. No one else had anything like that. No one else had anything remotely like that.

“Some people got all the luck,” Kyle muttered.

“Good thing Ollie didn’t have any other kids,” Wally grumbled. Society would crumble otherwise.

Oblivious to their jealous eyes, Connor smiled as he accepted the glass. “Thanks.”

“Anything for you, sugah.” Stripperella batted her eyes at Connor before turning the other two. “Boys going anywhere?”

Wally flinched. “Uh. Well, something came up…and…”

She pouted. “Without finishing your drinks?”

There was something oddly intimidating about her, as though not drinking would be a big problem. Well, if her goal was to get Connor’s number, it probably was. Not only that, but Wally could feel a dozen glares in his direction and perhaps there were some fights not worth having. “After we’re done,” he agreed.

“Coward,” Kyle mumbled.

“I don’t see you getting up,” Wally hissed back.

“I don’t have a reason to,” Kyle replied smugly, but his hand shook lightly as he picked up his beer.

Liar. Wally grumpily drank his beer. Though, it made sense Kyle wasn’t as bothered. He was still newly minted, still learning the people behind the masks. Meanwhile, Wally had been deeply entrenched in the community since he was a teen.

And then there was the other newbie. Connor set down his glass. “They added a lime.”

“We’d make a fortune pimping you out.” Wally nursed his beer. They’d have to draw it out a bit, but maybe they could leave in ten minutes. Surely that was enough to appease their server or at least for her to strike out. “Alright, this place is a dud. We have just enough time to try another place before patrol.”

Kyle snickered. “You got another one lined up? What’s the theme this time? Nurses?”

“You should let it go—” Connor cut himself off and flinched.

Wally glanced up to see a Black Canary strut by. She tossed her blonde hair and smiled seductively at Connor. “Oh, that’s just…awkward…” he said.

“Yeah.” Troubled, Connor gulped his soda. “I’m not sure how to feel about that. Not good, I guess.”

Kyle stared as Wonder Woman danced with Catwoman. “Yeah, you know, I get it. I think this was hotter before I got the ring.”

“Everything is,” Wally agreed. He downed his beer in one go and slammed the bottle down. “Alright, drinks over. Let’s go.”

“Done already, sugah?” Stripperella appeared out of nowhere and Wally resisted the urge to bolt right then and there. “Don’t worry, ah’ve got round two!”

“You didn’t have to,” Wally said diplomatically, nudging Connor to squeeze out of the booth.

As though to pre-emptively block him, Stripperella side-stepped in front of Connor. “Part of my job, hun. Can’t let you cuties stay thirsty.”

“I’m sorry but we have to go,” Connor tried, half-standing, his hand resting on the table to keep his balance. He flashed a trademark smile, a fatal blow.

Or it would have been, if their server wasn’t so hell-bent on getting more. Stripperella smiled brightly and leaned forward. “Are you askin’ for a dance?”

Wally was a superhero with two other heroes. They’d fought gods and aliens and magic, had time traveled and saved the universe more times than he could count.

They also ended up drinking round two because there were some fights that couldn’t be won.

“I think they’re trying to get us drunk,” Wally quietly said.

Kyle snorted. In a low voice, he asked, “Us? Or just him?”

“My drinks are non-alcoholic,” Connor replied, shaking his head. The glass this time looked even fancier than the last. If they stayed any longer, he’d end up drinking out of a jewel-encrusted gold cup.

“Then they’re trying to get us drunk to isolate him,” Kyle continued, unphased.

“We’ll have to escape,” Wally stated. It was time to stop playing around and take the situation seriously. “Without using our powers.”

“Powers would be easier,” Kyle pointed out. “You could just drag us out.”

“Only if we want the papers to know,” Wally replied, dismissing the idea. Linda would find out. So would Donna and Dick and he didn’t know which was worse.

“Then what’s your plan?” Connor asked, still keeping an eye on their surroundings. “She’s already returning.”

Wally swallowed. It wasn’t an honourable plan but it was the best one he had. One day, he’d be forgiven. “Easy,” he leaned closer to Connor, “Do you trust me?”

Connor nodded, as unguarded as he got. “Yes.”

He waited a beat, until Stripperella was almost at the booth. “You shouldn’t.” Wally flashed a smile. “Sorry.”

And then, he sped up his hand just enough that Connor couldn’t react before Wally unbuttoned the top of Connor’s shirt and spilled his club soda on him. As his friend stared at his shirt, dumbfounded, Wally gasped dramatically. “Oh no!”

Stripperella couldn’t tear her eyes from Connor. “Oh honey, are you okay?”

Connor turned to Wally, betrayal etched on his face. “Wally—”

“He’s so clumsy,” Kyle interrupted, quick to catch on. He reached across with a napkin and each dab just exposed more of Connor’s chest. “It’s everywhere.”

The final step of the plan. Wally stared pleadingly at Stripperella. “Can you help him? He needs to change his shirt.”

His acting was terrible but she didn’t care. Her eyes were glued on the prize and she smiled. “Of course, sugah.”

“This isn’t over,” Connor growled, glaring at his turncoat friends as they slipped out of the booth and all but sprinted out of the establishment.

Wally threw a half-hearted Sorry over his shoulder before bursting out the door. And he was, really, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made. Besides, he could make up for it later. Probably. Besides, wasn’t it time their friend flirted with more than just a ghost? They’d failed at setting him during their cruise, but maybe this was just what Conner needed?

Kyle didn’t stop laughing as they sped through the parking lot. “You should be worried.”

Wally raised a brow, slowing down as they reached his car. “Why?”

“Well, you’re proposing to Linda soon, right?” Kyle gulped air as he leaned against the passenger door. He pushed back his sweat-slicked bangs and closed his eyes. “Your stag party’s next.”

“Sure…” Wally bit his cheek, not quite following. “But Dick’s organizing that.”

“Sure, butttt,” Kyle drawled, stretching his arms above him. “Who’s he going to ask for help?”

“You—” Wally blanched, realizing just how royally he’d screwed up. “Shit.”

“Yeah.” Kyle snickered. “Shit.”

[justkending]

Finding Memories. Chapter 10.

Series Summary: Waking up with little to no memory of her past, and being saved by a group of individuals who call themselves heroes, sends a long time captive for a whirlwind trying to find some form of grounding in this world she quickly learns runs on chaos. But she’s not the only one trying to figure out her forgotten backstory. Bucky Barnes, along with the other Avengers, can’t help but sense that there is a lot more to the whole situation than a diagnosis of amnesia. Her background slowly starts to come forward in pieces of her past and hidden information discovered. Who is she? And why was she in the room they were meant to destroy?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Word Count: 2100+

TW: Torture, Kidnapping,cussing, PTSD, and blood. 

A/N: So sorry this has taken a minute to post. I haven’t had any clue where I’ve wanted the next few chapters to go in order to lead us to our future storyline, but I started writing and well... I finished another chapter and I think you and I can both say I wasn’t expecting the route I decided on. But, hey, I was feeling EXTRA cause I got a snow day tomorrow so I can write the next chapter sooner! Enjoy and as always, I love hearing back from you all! Even if it’s just a hey so I can say hey back:) xoxooxox

Chapter 10:

Y/N eventually went to bed shortly after Bucky and her had dinner. 

Bucky decided to go and work out some as he felt that was a good time to try and break down the case more. 

In the meantime, Natasha was hunting Wanda down. She mentioned she was talking to Bruce earlier, but she never made it to Y/N’s room like she said she would. Now it was later, and she still had no idea where she was. 

She was looking down at her phone, seconds from calling her when she heard footsteps heading her way. 

She looked up, and around the corner turned the person in question. 

“What have you been up to missy?” she said with an interrogating look. 

“Hey, I was just coming to find you,” Wanda pointed to her. “I have something I need to talk to you about.”

Now Natasha’s curiosity had peaked. 

“About what?” 

“Not here,” she looked around. “Come with me down to the lab,” she motioned her head to follow her. 

Down in the lab, Bruce was hunched over paperwork and examining them closely. 

When the two redheads walked into his private office, he looked at Nat with a smile. 

“So you did tell her,” Bruce stood up from his position and crossed his arms after taking his glasses off. 

“Not yet,” Wanda shook her head. “Figured it would be better if we both told her.”

Natasha was looking at them with confused stares and couldn’t handle being out of the loop any longer. 

“Can someone tell me what’s going on, please?” she groaned. 

Wanda knew there was no point easing into it all as she could see the annoyance on the spy’s face. She didn’t want to make her wait longer than she already had. 

“We have some things about Y/N that we need to discuss with you,” she said leaning on the table. Nat was curious and looked at Wanda, who read her mind, nodded and answered, “Yes, he knows.”

“I know about the incident in the training room, but we have some other things we need to talk about before that,” Bruce sighed, moving toward the two.

After about 20 minutes of debriefing Nat, there was a second of silence. Her head was down as she added all the new notes to her mental list, but Wanda and Bruce couldn’t tell if she was just processing, confused, angry or all the above.

Then she raised her head and looked straight at them both.

“Why wasn’t I a part of this little side investigation?” she asked bluntly. 

Wanda knew she would be upset about being out of the loop, but they felt they had good reasoning for keeping within a smaller group. 

“We didn’t want things to come back to bite us in the ass in whatever way it could and figured the less who knew, the less hurt,” Wanda answered. “It was nothing against you or anything having to do with not trusting you with the information, but there is still so much we don’t know about her that could get us in trouble.”

“And?” Natasha questioned as if that wasn’t good enough of an answer. “You think getting hurt or in trouble are ever part of my main concerns?”

Anyone willing to join any group of individuals such as the Avengers wouldn’t last a single second if they were worried about either of those two things. 

“We were trying to look out for you,” Bruce spoke up.

“And for that I appreciate you, but you both know I like to make my own decisions,” she sent a serious look. “I would’ve liked to have known however, so I can decide if this is something I wanted to be a part of for myself.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t,” Wanda spoke up. “But we’re letting you in now and we want to know what your thoughts are on helping Y/N learn more about herself and her powers. Things are developing fast, and if Tony hears word of it at all, there is a good chance he’s going to do something that he’ll regret.”

Natasha took a second to take the quick apology and move on. It’s not that she was no longer upset, but there were more things to worry about at the moment than her feelings being slightly hurt.

“Y/N said you ran a blood test today,” she said to Bruce and he nodded. “Any difference in the original ones?”

“Her blood is no longer infected with narcotics and antihistamines,” he answered. “Everything is functioning as normal as can be expected. But because of the mutant genes, her labs will never come back as completely normal.”

“Did any of the mutations change?” she asked. 

“That’s the thing,” Wanda jumped in. The other two looked towards her. “Bruce went over the mutations again and they’ve changed, but we can’t tell if it’s just the look of the DNA bonding, or if the powers they were trying to sedate are finally developing and growing.”

“Growing?” Nat raised an eyebrow. “Growing in size?” Nat was perplexed. 

“Growing as if they're becoming stronger,” he waved off. “So yes, to an extent they are growing, but not in size. Just in power and strength.” 

“You took her last blood sample after we had been practicing this morning, right?” Nat asked. 

“Yeah, Wanda had come to talk to me and I asked her to find Y/N and see if she could get her to come down to do another blood draw.”

“Which is why I walked in on you both fighting and witnessing her-,” she paused trying to find a word for their morning discovery. “Protect herself?” 

“It wasn’t out of malice. I can tell you that much,” Natasha shook her head. “I saw the fear of God in her poor eyes before it happened. I wasn’t even going to follow through with the hit but by the time I realized, she was already throwing me to the other side of the room.”

“So it wasn’t because she got angry or anything?” Bruce asked with true curiosity. That type of issue was his specialty. 

“I wish it were anger,” Nat sighed. “But that was panic.”

“Noted,” Bruce, turned and picked up a piece of paper he was looking at earlier, and made a small note on them. 

“Could her blood analysis have been drastically changed after that kind of reaction?” Nat asked as she put the pieces together faster by the second. 

“Any intense emotion can cause all kinds of chemical changes in a blood sample, but add in the mutation being put to work, and it could absolutely be the answer behind why the cell looked the way they did,” Bruce answered, still looking down at the paper. “I should get another sample tomorrow morning when she’s not in fight or flight mode,” he mumbled, pausing in his writing before making another physical note of his thought process.  

“Wanda,” Nat turned to her friend with eyes ready for a mission. “I need you to fight Y/N tomorrow,” she said in a rash and rather abrupt way. 

“Excuse me?” Wanda blinked slowly. 

Nat let out one single laugh before waving her shock away. “We already talked about it. It was her idea.”

“I once again say… Excuse me?” Wanda emphasized on the tone that showed that didn’t make her statement any better. 

“Ugh, calm down,” she rolled her eyes, moving in front of her. “We decided if someone was going to keep training with her like we had been, it needs to be someone who can at least go against her in a similar manner.”

Wanda’s nerves eased pretty quickly after hearing the full explanation and not just parts of it. Her suggestion and idea was a valid one. No one really knows to what extent Y/N’s powers are, but if anyone could hold their own on the same playing field it would be her.

“So she does want to keep training?” she asked. 

“You surprised?” Nat asked. 

“No, but I had just hoped she would take a little more time to think about it,” she answered. “Part of me wished she would try and give herself some time to recall all this stuff in a less stressful way.” 

“In a perfect world, Maximoff. In a perfect world,” Nat sighed. She knew how the story of the victim with a good heart doing the right thing, even if it wasn’t the best thing for them, went all too well. “But at the end of the day, it’s her choice, and she still can back out at any point in time.”

Wanda smiled at the reassurance. They had grown close to Y/N in her short time there, but in it they had started welcoming a new family member into their dysfunctional family. And no one ever wants to see someone they care for get hurt. But it’s because you care for them, you let them make their own decisions and give support where you can. 

“Are you ok with trying to help Y/N figure this out, even if it’s not the way we hoped?” Nat asked. 

“I’ll do what I can.”

______________________________________________

The sun was just minutes from being completely gone and leaving a nice lavender haze to the sky. 

He had decided at the last minute to take a run. He had avoided running the whole time in the gym because treadmills annoyed him. He felt the track would fall out from under him as he ran and he hated having to adjust the speed every time instead of it just happening naturally.

So running out on the nature trail and around the compound without any restrictions and fresh air was always an easier choice when he decided if he wanted to run that day or not. 

He was on mile 4 when he decided to go a different direction of the normal trail he followed. Even with the new perspective on the trail, nothing seemed to turn his attention away from all the pieces of the neverending puzzle he couldn’t solve in his head. 

He didn’t even realize where he was when he heard a rustle in the treeline and foliage he was running alongside. 

Stopping dead in his tracks, his breath became quickly controlled and quieted as he honed in on the crowded trees that were swaying softly in the night wind. His eyes flitted across the greenery and he waited for something out of place to pop out at him, but it was a completely normal set of trees with nothing odd  in between them. 

His head lowered as he stared harder into the treeline feeling like he wasn’t seeing something he knew was there. He listened carefully trying to decipher if the rustling of the leaves were coming from the ground or the branches. 

Then he smelled something. Something besides the pine and cedarwood that was naturally in the air. It was subtle and anyone without his enhancement wouldn’t even know to look for it. 

His nose wrinkled as he tried to identify it. It was a plant, but nothing that grew out over here. It had a light and airy smell. Something that if in its rightful home would be a compliment to the surrounding scents. But this unique fragrance didn’t belong anywhere in the gardens of Stark’s landscape. 

One more hit of it and it clicked. 

Lavender.

That sparked his curiosity even more and he started stepping toward the darkened space. The amount of leaves grouping together to create large amounts of shade made the moonlight barely peak through. 

But just as the scent got stronger and he got closer, something moved in the bushes and Bucky quickly turned in an intimidating stance toward the motion. 

But again… Nothing was there. 

He swore he heard something. Nothing could make that kind of a noise and turn out to be nothing.

He was on alert, but he never saw anything to confirm his suspicions and the smell of lavender was now a lingering memory. 

He continued to check in paranoia, but came up empty each time. He started back out to the path, and in a trained manner, looked up at the building taking note on what side of the compound he was on and noted what cameras he would check when he got back in. 

But after finding the cameras it dawned on him. He studied the perfectly stacked and aligned windows and noticed it was the living quarters side of the compound. 

Then his heart stopped.

Fourth story up, third window on the left, and on the patio was a birdhouse. One that Sam made in a woodshop last week with his nephews and brought it back. The person he gifted it to was the only person who was kind enough to take it. 

“Y/N.”

He must have stopped breathing because it came out as if he had just been socked in the stomach and finally remembered to breathe. 

He looked back into the woods, seeing the spot where he heard the noise and smelled the soft and subtle hint of lavender. 

When he looked back at the windows, the calculations clicked and the new anxiety he had carried him all the way back up to the rooms without a single stop.

If you would like to be tagged in this series, please send an ask here.Thank you:)

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[katzell]

your thoughts on the marvelous mrs. maisel finale? especially, the conclusion of the lenny and midge’s storyline?

Thank you so much for the ask!

I've been thinking about it for weeks, so it's time to get into it. I'm going to mainly address the Lenny and Midge part of the question, mostly because addressing everything else would make this far longer than it already is. And boy is it long. Here we go!

After years of ranting and raving, I now know when there is a version of a show I am watching and a completely different show the writers are creating. When I realize the show I want isn't something the showrunners are interested in, I cut and run.

I nearly dropped Maisel many times over the years as it became clear Midge was never going to have her big break before the finale. It would rather spin its wheels and have more family dinners and musical numbers than grapple with the real dangers of being in show business in the 1950s and 1960s. Midge and Lenny was the only thing that kept me going, and paradoxically it was because Lenny was going to die rather than in spite of it.

I never carried an ounce of hope that Lenny was going to escape the real fate of Lenny Bruce. When the Palladinos introduced Lenny in the pilot, they never meant for him to be a regular character. It was supposed to be a fun nod to the comedians of the time and the kind of comedy the Palladinos were inspired to explore in the series. And then Luke Kirby gave a mesmerizing, unforgettable performance. From that point forward, ASP was always very careful to make most of the characters who populate Midge's world fictional versions of real people. The decision to call him Lenny Bruce and not David Blake (or something better) put limits on what that character could realistically be or do.

For ASP, saving Lenny would have meant undercutting the few ties to reality Maisel had established. And I I agree with her. Especially given how little the show really seemed interested in exploring the darkness of that world. Sexism, racism, antisemitism, homophobia were all present, but the tone was always more light and whimsical. Which is why we got so many interminable boring overindulgent musical sequences.

Knowing that Lenny's death was coming filed in some of the shadows the show itself danced (literally) around. It also allowed me to enjoy Midge and Lenny as a pair of star crossed lovers who could have saved each other, but ultimately don't because of both their own faults and the societal forces around them.

Accepting those limits, I found really beautiful tragedy in Lenny's final two appearances. The opening scene broke me. I was prepared for him to die, but I wasn't prepared to watch him fail. Immediately after the episode I was upset with that narrative choice, but rewatching his previous appearances I came to agree this moment carries more narrative weight than one terrible phone call ever could. Midge watching Lenny fail and not confronting him after was set up in season four. And it's a tragedy of miscommunication on both their parts that comes from a place of love and respect.

Lenny told Midge when he woke up on her couch that he never wanted her to save him again. He was so embarrassed at the idea of Midge seeing him at his worst that he fled her home without his shoes, without using the bathroom, almost in a state of undress. Lenny also made clear to Midge that his drug use wasn't something he would discuss with her in the hotel room. Lenny so desperately wanted Midge to be impressed by him. And yet that desire ultimately prevents any chance Midge has of actually getting close to him. At Carnegie Hall, he realizes for the first time how carefully Midge listens to him and appreciates him. The thought terrifies him. Suddenly his best self seems like it might ruin Midge. So he bolts.

Lenny and Midge could talk about the struggle of comedy and even nod to the ways the world was inhospitable to people who lived outside of the accepted cultural mores of the time, but Lenny could never bring himself to share with her the nature of his addiction. For Lenny, this subject was far more taboo and unspeakable than religion, race, and sex. Because unlike those topics, society saw (and still sees) addiction as a personal failing. For all that Lenny could call bullshit on some things, he internalized this myth. If Lenny had been more honest with Midge, if he had gotten out of the cab and gone back upstairs, if he had let Midge know more about his drug use, if he had asked Midge to bring an umbrella to support him for more than national television appearances, Midge would never have let him fall on his own.

Midge remembers everything Lenny ever said to her. His words are maxims, even prophesies. Midge believes Lenny even when she shouldn't. We see her quoting him often. She carries his fortune with her for the rest of her life. It's such a clear indication of her love for him, but it's also a tragedy. Midge probably let herself believe that the paraphernalia she found in the bathroom wasn't a big deal, because Lenny had promised her it wasn't. By the time she had heard enough to know differently, the damage was done. If Lenny hadn't told her not to save him she would have tried to pull him out of his spiral with everything she had. As it was, she sent him Susie, her best friend, her greatest asset, the lifeline she had relied on over and over. But it just wasn't enough. Midge couldn't meet him at the club and respect what he had told her. And Midge always, always tried to do what Lenny said.

That miscommunication, that tragedy, is heartbreakingly rendered by Rachel Brosnahan and Luke Kirby. Without explicitly saying anything, we know Lenny wants Midge to walk through that door and to try to rescue him. And we know that Midge wants to do just that, but cannot bear the idea of being rejected by him.

In the end, at least, we have that scene in Chinese restaurant which I think might be the most visually stunning scene of any of Midge and Lenny's encounters (I'm sorry Miami club, you are a close second!) It's a nice final reminder of what Lenny did for Midge: he acknowledged she deserved a place amongst the elites of the craft. I only wish there had been room for Midge to also validate Lenny. I would have loved her to give him some parting words that he might also treasure.

There are other ways of tragically ending Midge and Lenny's journey that I would have loved to see, but given the Palladinos disinterest in really exploring the nasty, dark, ugly parts of show business in the 1960s, I am not surprised we didn't get them. That can be a project for a fanfic writer who doesn't want to "fix it" so much as "make it worse." (Go for it fanfic writer! Sometimes we need sad things!)

I also have my own ideas of what would be a happy ending for these characters (see Midge and Lenny's Alternative Adventures). But I think the key to landing those stories (for me) is to confront this miscommunication so that Midge and Lenny can both accept and demand more from each other and to build up a new, less brittle kind of respect that comes from real intimacy. I want productive fights that tear through artifice and expose the mess underneath. Only then do I think they have a shot of saving each other from their own worst instincts.

Does that mean I liked it? Hahahahaha I don't even know. I respect it. It lingers. I felt something. And that's better than most series finales. And Midge and Lenny remain sensational.

[schrijverr]

Growing Pains [Dick's POV] 6

Chapter 6 out of 6

Dick knows who Barbara is under the mask, Barbara doesn't. This causes some strange interactions as their friendship develops.

In this chapter, Dick and Bruce let Barbara into the fold of their identities, something Dick is a little nervous about. Though he shouldn't worry, despite her teases, Barbara truly is his friend.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

Chapter 6: Identity Confirmed

Dick is nervous as they drive in the Batmobile towards where they located Barbara to be. He is excited for patrol too, but it’s getting overshadowed for the moment.

He is glad that Bruce wasn’t mad when he told him about accidentally outing himself to Barbara and therefore also likely outing Bruce. However, just because Bruce is cool, doesn’t mean Barbara will be. He still remembers that she seemed to have something against him. What if she doesn’t like Robin anymore now that she knows it’s him under there?

So, he stays quiet as Bruce parks next to the building she’s on while they wait for her to come down. Which she does after a second, landing next to the Batmobile as she cocks her head and asks: “What? Not feeling up to walking tonight?”

Batman doesn’t reply and instead grunts: “Get in.”

It says a lot about how much she trusts them that she doesn’t even hesitate before jumping in, already leaning forwards as Bruce starts to drive to continue the conversation. “So, where are we going?”

“The Batcave.”

Dick can feel that Barbara looks at him, but he doesn’t look back. He wants to and his rational side tells him that he’s being silly, but he isn’t ready to face her yet. It seems safer to do that in the familiarity of the Cave. Of home.

Fortunately, Barbara takes his silence in stride and directs her next question at Bruce again. “That’s cool. Is there a reason we’re not patrolling?”

“We’ve decided to let you in on our identities,” Bruce explains.

She’s quiet for a moment, then she says in a smug voice: “Was that always the plan, or just because Dickie here spilled?”

His ears burn slightly of embarrassment, but he also immediately drops his resolution to wait until they’re in the Batcave. His honor is at stake! So, he yells: “Hey! I didn’t say anything incriminating.” Because he hadn’t.

“No, I just figured it out,” Barbara says happily. “I totally knew already too, by the way.”

He still feels a little guilty about spilling and he withstood a lot of anxiety over it, she doesn’t get to claim that she figured it out earlier. So, he hotly protests: “You didn’t. I saw your face, you only figured it out today.”

“I was already suspicious,” now Barbara is getting defensive too, this was not how Dick imagined this car ride. “I knew something was up with you, you’re not subtle at all.”

“I’m the most subtle,” Dick protests again at the new lie. He can’t have Bruce thinking he isn’t sneaky, he’s been very sneaky. “You didn’t notice me for weeks.”

“No, I let you observe me for weeks,” Barbara corrects condescendingly. “If you weren’t Robin, you’d be a creepy stalker or something.” Dick’s ears burn even more now, he never meant to be seen as a creepy stalker, he was trying to ensure the safety of him and Bruce, that’s totally different and makes it okay.

Then, she has the gall to turn to Bruce – who has been suspiciously quiet this whole time, the traitor – and say: “You should really invest in more sneaky training with this one.”

“Don’t listen to her, I’m plenty sneaky,” Dick yells, trying to shove her back into the backseat in an attempt to salvage the whole situation.

Despite the hostility, the atmosphere is far from it. He and Barbara have always bickered and when he focuses, he can hear the teasing tone as she tries to break the tension.

That doesn’t mean, he isn’t feeling incredibly betrayed when Bruce finally opens his mouth and says: “Hm, I don’t know, Dick. She might have a point,” leaving him guffawing in offense.

Barbara seems amused by his misery and joins in the betrayal by turning to Bruce and ignoring him to causally say: “I should get to sit in front next time. He’s shorter, that’s safer in the back.”

“You can’t have shotgun,” Dick complains, getting over his speechlessness. He turns to Bruce: “She can’t have shotgun! I always have shotgun.” He has to maintain this, he’s Bruce’s ward, that means he has to pick his side right? Barbara is already taller than him, he can’t loose this too.

But Bruce is not responding to him and a feeling of dread arises. He is so protective of Dick, which is sweet and makes him feel safe, but he also has his dignity. He’s already eleven!

However, before he can shake Bruce and demand a reply, they enter the Batcave and he is distracted again. Because he remembers fully taking it in for the first time, how cool it all was, he wants to show it off to his friend.

So, he excitedly follows after Barbara, who is looking around with the same awe and slides up to her as he smugly says: “Pretty cool, huh?” She remains quiet, just looking with wide eyes and Dick can’t help but laugh at her a little. He feels like she deserves it after bullying him in the car in front of Bruce.

At that, she snaps out of it, scowling at him as she pushes him. Though he knows it’s not mean spirited, he knows how hard she can push and that’s barely anything. She says: “You probably weren’t much better.”

“I was plenty better,” Dick tells her smugly, because he was and he can lord that over her now. “I didn’t even react.”

Bruce undermines him a little in his smugness by commenting: “You were too busy yelling at me to let you commit murder.”

Dick pouts at him. He’ll probably never let him live that down, even though he didn’t commit murder in the end anyway. Bruce gives him a gentle look, knowing it’s a sensitive topic and trying to make it easier to bear by making light of it. It’s nice that he tries.

He’s without the cowl now, but still in the suit. It’s Dick’s favorite Bruce, because it’s the most real one.

Out of the corner of his eyes he sees Barbara’s head snap towards him and she asks: “Who were you trying to murder? Are you still murderous?”

“Nah, murder is in the past,” Dick says, because he did decide on that. Still, that doesn’t mean that ever present anger doesn’t flare up again when thinks back on it, so his voice is strained when he adds: “He was going after Tony Zucco. I wanted in.”

An understanding look dawns on her face and Dick wants to crawl out of his own skin a little. He nearly backs away when she puts a hand on his shoulder, because he doesn’t want a hug right now, he might cry and he has a reputation to uphold. But Barbara is always surprising him, so she doesn’t hug him, but says: “If you ever change your mind, I’m here to help.”

Dick can’t help but be shocked for a little. She’s very serious about it. Then the ridiculousness of the situation hits him and he lets out a giggle and he grins: “Thanks, Babs, I’ll keep it in mind.”

“No killing,” Bruce interrupts them and he sees Barbara cringe a little.

He gathers that she doesn’t know that he isn’t actually grumpy, so he breaks the tension by stage-whispering: “It’s his rule.”

“Ahhh,” Barbara replies, relaxing and giving him an exaggerated wink. Dick can’t help but feel delighted that she’s his friend.

Especially when their shared shenanigans get Bruce to sigh, before he says: “Go change. Penguin is robbing Gotham Bank.”

“Change?” Barbara and Dick ask at the same time.

“Yes,” Bruce answers, gesturing to a set of display cases, “I’ve had Lucius make better costumes for you. More protection and safety precautions. Don’t worry, I kept your design.”

Dick hesitates for a moment, he’s attached to his current suit. It’s the one he wore with his parents, but Bruce’s promise that he kept the design makes him approach. Indeed, it’s the exact same suit.

He stands there for a second, before getting startled by Bruce, who whispers: “So you can maintain the original safely.”

Warmth spreads through him, because Bruce always seems to know how to make it all a feel okay again, no matter how heavy his chest gets. So, he excitedly changes into his new suit, carefully folding his old one.

When they leave the Batcave, Bruce stops Dick and says: “Batgirl rides shotgun.” Then to both of them, he goes: “No names in the field.”

“Why does she get to ride shotgun?” Dick complains, while Barbara quickly scrambles in, because she’s mean and doesn’t want him to have any fun. He should have rights to the shotgun.

Bruce doesn’t seem to care about his right though, just saying: “Bank robbery, remember, Robin?”

Dick sulks as he gets in and informs Barbara: “I liked it better when you weren’t riding with us in the Batmobile.”

She sticks her tongue out in return, leaving him to sulk as Bruce drives them towards the back robbery.

It’s nothing monumental, being out here with Barbara also knowing. It’s just a thing now. She knows.

However, it is big to Dick, because she’s his friend. She knows him wholly now and doesn’t look away. She doesn’t care that he isn’t born rich, she isn’t uncomfortably sympathetic about his parents and she doesn’t take his barbs seriously. She gets wanting to fight, she gets the rush of grappling through the city. She gets him. And he gets her.

They work together like a well-oiled machine that has been weeks in the making. Her and Dick are on the two assassin looking ladies duty. He’s the distraction and hitter from the front, while Batgirl flanks from the back.

Maybe he should work on his stealth a little more, but he has always liked being in the spotlights more. The light to their shadow, right?

When the fight is over and the villains restrained, they return to the Batcave – Bruce probably wants to write his report right away, because he has something up his ass about maintaining an accurate database of encounters – Dick doesn’t care, because he wins shotgun and Bruce doesn’t order him to the back. Honor restored!

When they get back, Alfred is waiting with cookies, greeting them in his composed manner as always: “Welcome back, sirs and miss. I have some tea and cookies.”

Dick loves Alfred’s cookies and despite having shared them with Barbara before, he’s excited to do so again, now finally able to tell her who made them. So, he cheers and drags her along, saying: “Alfred makes the best cookies.”

They’re both happily stuffing their faces, thanking him for the cookies. Alfred smiles at Barbara, then replies: “You’re welcome, Miss Barbara. I do want to officially welcome you to the team. And to thank you for looking after Master Bruce and Master Dick.”

Bruce is pretending he doesn’t hear, but Dick just feels the rush of embarrassment. He already does enough stupid shit where Barbara can see, he wants to look somewhat cool in front of her. Though, he probably doesn’t help his case by whining: “Alfreeed, don’t say that. If ever, I was looking out for her.”

Alfred just raises a pointed eyebrow at Dick and one look at Barbara tells him that he’s going to be screwed for forever. Especially when she grins at Dick and says: “I don’t know, without me there, anyone could have snuck up on you.”

“That was one time!” Dick exclaims, the blush not leaving, much to his dismay.

Barbara is enjoying this moment and he knows it, she is cackling loudly as she ruffles his hair. His hair! He tries to duck away, but can’t escape her as she teases: “Keep telling yourself that, Dickie.”

“Dickie is absolutely not going to stick,” Dick warns her, because it makes him sound like he’s five and he’s already grown, thank you very much. To show that, he sets in a counter attack in the form of tickles, which has her dancing away.

Their little game turns into actual sparring when Bruce starts to call out tips to both parties, until they are both on the ground, panting.

Bruce appears in their sight, holding out a hand to both of them as he pulls them to their feet. He smiles: “Could use some work, but you’re getting good.” Then he holds out a piece of paper to Barbara and explains: “These are some exercises you can do at home. We’ll train every weekend here. These are rotating meeting points for pick up on patrol, memorize them, then burn the paper.”

Dick is proud of Bruce for letting Barbara in like this and he’s proud of Barbara for seeing past his whole ‘I am the night’-shtick, because she salutes: “Aye, aye, sir.”

Bruce seems to be amused as he says: “I’ll drop you off near home. The Commissioner is off work soon,” he then adds. “Dick, time for bed.”

“I’m not tired,” Dick immediately protests. He can’t have her think he has a bedtime, he’s Robin. Though his effort is undermined by a yawn and knowing Bruce or Alfred will say something otherwise, he amends: “Okay, maybe a little tired. Bye, Babs, see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Dick.”

Then they’re both quiet for a second, he isn’t sure whether they’re just going to wave, shake hands or hug. He remembers how on the roof she hugged him, how it was nice to have that. He’s always been a touchy person. In the circus he was surrounded by people who’d hug him. Bruce is getting better at it, but it can’t hurt to have more people to hug. So, he makes an executive decision and hugs her, glad when she hugs back.

He doesn’t want to make it weird, so he quickly steps back, before bounding up the stairs backwards as he waves and calls out: “I’m calling shotgun for next time!”

“You can’t do that,” Barbara yells back, but Dick pretends he doesn’t hear.

The next day, he’s a little nervous, because what if it doesn’t translate to outside their sidekick gig? What if she shuns him at school again?

But he needn’t have worried, because the moment he sets foot into Mr. Stevenson’s class, she is there, giving him a grin and waving at him to come over.

Some of the class is giving them weird looks, but that’s something else to worry about later. He’s sure that between the two of them, they can come up with a sufficient explanation as to why they’re suddenly friendly, when they seemed enemies not so long ago.

Dick doesn’t want to go to school. Not really. It has always seemed more pointless than focusing on training, but with his friend here, the world isn’t just a place of anger and training. It’s nice to have someone to hang out with here too, it makes school just a little bit better.