#also heard wally might be brought back | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

arthyritis · 1 year ago

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A Wonderful World (Welcome Home/Puppet Friends AU) - Chapter Three

The shelves were newly stocked, Poppy had said when they arrived at the bodega. Supposedly, that meant it'd be easier to find what they were looking for because even with only seven other neighbours, things seemed to just disappear from the bodega, named "Howdy's Place", and sometimes it'd be harder to find things than others. So, Pip was grateful for the fresh restock of art supplies.

In fact, things were so stocked that Pip was a little bit overwhelmed by the overflowing hangers and shelves.

"Oh, wow..." he muttered in awe.

Poppy smiled down at him. "You've never been to the store, either?"

Pip stood in place, tapping his foot against the tile floor, his eyes trailing the shelves in a half-daze. "No, I have... but I stayed in Phoebe's backpack most of the time."

"Ah! Is Phoebe your keeper?"

The daze quickly became full awareness as Pip's head snapped to look up at another tall figure suddenly looming over it. The deeper, chipper voice of the caterpillar man was startling in contrast to Poppy's sweet, feminine one, and his height was nearly as staggering. A nametag on his breast read, "Howdy" in neat handwriting.

"Good morning, Howdy!" Poppy chirped. "I suppose this means you've heard the news and some of the information floating around, too. But, yes, this is Pip. He's a little shy."

Howdy extended one of four hands down to Pip politely. "Howdy, Pip! Welcome to the little neighbourhood we call Home! How have you been enjoying your house?"

Finally, Pip broke out of its stupor, and with little hesitance, it accepted the shake of the caterpillar's hand. "It's great, thank you."

"That's great! Now, what are you folks browsing for? Maybe I can help!"

"We're just trying to decide on some drawing supplies for Pip. Might you have any recommendations?" Poppy asked, picking up a pack of crayons to examine. "I'm sure Eddie has more than enough for our next neighbourhood picnic, but it would be nice for Pip to be able to draw on his own, too."

A hand rose to rub against Howdy's chin as he also looked at the display. Then, he reached forward and picked up a pad of paper and a box of markers and gave them to Pip. "Hmm, I think you'd be perfectly happy with these. They're top of the line!"

Pip looked down at the supplies and smiled. "Thank you, Howdy."

The bell over the door rang, and then a deep voice called out which brought Howdy's attention to it. "No problemo, neighbour. I've got to go see what Barnaby wants. Help yourself to any supplies you'd like, though. They're on the house for today!"

Four legs took him out of the aisle before disappearing around the corner.

Pip continued to look down at the paper and markers until Poppy set the crayons down on top and walked to the end of the aisle as well. It watched to see what she was doing, confused when she looked down and nearly bawked in surprise at what she saw. "Oh, Wally! Feathers, you startled me."

"Hi, Poppy," was all Pip heard Wally say. He tried to back out of the aisle before being spotted, but he wasn't so lucky to even get a foot away before: "Hello, Pip."

"Hi, Wally," Pip acknowledged with a faint sigh.

The slightly taller puppet's eyes fell to what was in Pip's arms and couldn't help but take notice of how it held its things tighter to its chest.

"Do you like to do art, Pip?"

He shifted his things again. "Yeah, I do." It's what I was doing before I came here; maybe that's a clue for how I can get back home.

Wally's expression softened. "Wonderful. We have a neighbourhood picnic coming up and there's always an art table, hosted by our own Eddie Dear. You're invited to come, of course, as our newest neighbour. Shall I let everyone know you'll be joining us?"

The tone set an expectation that he wanted Pip to be there.

Did Pip want to go? He wasn't sure. At least, he was sure he could avoid Wally fairly well if he was distracted by all of the other neighbours, but Pip was still so new to everything, so did he want to go and be... watched? Judged?

Its eyes flicked to Poppy, the purple of its buttons fading into the brown. Hopefully, she understood the question, though she remained silent in watching it, a small smile on her beak. "It would be nice to have someone else help hand out the food," she stated softly.

And, well, if Poppy wanted its help, how could it deny her that?

Wally seemed to be oblivious to the more specific underlying reason for the interaction as Pip turned back to him, shaking but trying to smile.

"All right, I'll go."

"Thank you, Pip. I'll make sure everyone knows to expect you." As if right on cue, Barnaby called through the shop for Wally to join him again. Wally smiled and waved goodbye to Pip and Poppy. "Have a good day, and have fun with your art, Pip."

"Bye..."

Pip wanted to slam his house's door, close the curtains, and hide away forever.

More like he wanted to be back in Phoebe's room and climb up to the shelves like he had planned before this mess got started. He wanted his safe space, and as much as he was beginning to like this house, he didn't feel as safe as he had the night before. Not with Wally calling just minutes after he'd woken up as if he were watching him.

Poppy quickly informed him that was a normal occurrence, as was Wally calling to wish everyone a good night individually. They never knew how he knew they were going to sleep or waking up, but they figured his schedule just aligned that well and... never really questioned him.

Pip did not like that at all. He excused himself as he and Poppy arrived back at his house and let her roam to her delight, so that he could go upstairs and unplug the telephone. However, when he checked, there was nowhere for it to be getting any power.

Instead, he took the receiver off the base and settled somewhat. When his death glare didn't cause him to receive a new phone call, he walked away and rejoined Poppy.

She had set out the new art supplies and taken out some of the baked goods she'd brought earlier in the morning and stored away. Her head was on a swivel as if looking for something, and her wing scratched at her head in defeat as she spotted Pip.

"I could have sworn we'd put a radio in here somewhere."

Confused, Pip looked around, too. He hadn't recalled seeing one, but--

There it was, on the desk in the entrance hallway. It walked toward it and turned it on to some random music channel for background noise. Poppy was overjoyed.

"Oh, wonderful! Thank you, Pip."

"Yeah, no problem," he shrugged. "Did you want to draw?" Why had she set everything out, otherwise?

"Oh, no, I wanted to see what you were capable of!" she chirped and handed Pip a 'muffin'. "What do you like to draw, Pip?"

Pip sat down on the couch, passing the food back and forth in focus. "Lots of things... nature, cool objects around the library or my keeper's room, my friends--"

"Why don't you draw your friends for me, then?"

Pip looked up with a bitter chuckle. "Why, because you can tell just how homesick I am?"

Poppy frowned and crouched next to the coffee table. "No... because I want to know you better. I want to see what makes your friends so special to you in how you draw them."

It wasn't long until there was a crayon in one hand and the cupcake in the other and Pip was kneeling next to the table to get closer to his work. He was outlining the light sketch he'd made of an unlikely friend group--a rabbit, a pig, a chipmunk, and a fox.

Poppy watched calmly over his shoulder, delighted but quiet as Pip picked colours for each of them.

"They all look very kind. What are their names?" she finally asked.

The drawing distracted it enough and it began to talk about its family, pointing at each character on the page as it stopped lining the drawing. "The rabbit is Zero, the pig is Ren, the chipmunk is Yay, and the fox is Sweetie."

It switched to colouring, then, and continued talking about each in turn. "Zero is really nice. They can't talk and their legs don't move, but they're funny and also real protective of all of us. You remind me a little bit of them, actually."

The rabbit became brown before their very eyes as Pip finished with the crayon, then worked in the purple and red details of the design.

The last thing it coloured was the red heart on Zero's purple sweater. It sighed with a smile, picking up the pink next.

"Ren is kind of the same but more of a wild card. He also can't talk, at least not in the traditional sense; she has a button under the heart on her chest that lets her talk. He hates the batteries being changed, though. He'll fight as much as he can--or, well, not as much with Phoebe than the library people, as nice as some of them were."

Poppy let Pip vent until he was ready to move on. He coloured the pig's overalls brown, and the ears and feet yellow. Then, he picked up the tan.

"Yay is one of the funniest creatures I know. They're artsy and silly, and their legs flop around like noodles so they don't walk too well, like Zero. They make every bad day way better, and they're one of the only ones who the kids at the library never really picked on. At least physically."

She noticed the eyes of the sitting chipmunk were a little lopsided and found that detail endearing. Their shirt was bright pink to match their happy, silly energy.

Pip sniffed, which brought Poppy's attention back to him. "Is everything okay, dear?"

"Fine, fine," Pip tried to push the topic off of him but couldn't put his heart into it. "I've just... never been able to cry before. I miss them all so much."

Tears dropped down from his button eyes in balloons, which made him feel even worse when Poppy finally made her way around the table to give him a cozy hug.

Their size difference didn't nearly rival Pip's normal seven inches to Phoebe's normal human size, but it was enough to make Pip sink in and embrace the soft, feathery hug around him.

"It's okay, dear. Let it out. You've been so brave, but it's hard, I can tell."

Not another word was spoken until Pip was completely calm, and by then it was nearly lights out. Both Pip and Poppy had a cup of cocoa in their hands and were sipping at the warm drinks, not a care in the world.

"Sweetie is my best friend," Pip finally said. "That's why it hit me so hard. Next to Phoebe, Sweetie is the one who's always been there for me. She's the sweetest, most wonderful puppet in the world. I love her. I love all of them, but I love her."

"I understand, Pip," Poppy nodded. The crayons were abandoned on the coffee table. Pip had picked up the red and orange to try and colour the last character on the page, but he couldn't. "I really do."

Pip sniffed again. "You do, don't you?" He smiled and shifted next to her. "You know, I thought Frank would be my greatest ally here, but I think it's you."

"Oh.." Poppy cooed happily. "Frank is a big sweetheart and I'm glad you two got along so well, but they don't do too good with feelings, to be honest. I'm the bird for that!" she laughed.

Pip laughed along, eyes trailing the small fox on the drawing page. It sighed. "Could you help me hang this up as is? I think it's a good reminder of how everything is still unfinished in some way."

"Of course." The clock chimed and Poppy jumped, nearly spilling her hot cocoa. "Oh, uhh, tomorrow. I'm afraid I have to go. Sorry for leaving you with such a mess. Oh dear..."

He jumped up with her, taking the cup and following her to the door. "It's okay, Poppy. You do what you have to. I know what strict schedules are like."

"Oh, feathers... yes, I knew you would. I'm so sorry. Have a safe and wonderful night, you hear?"

"You, too. Get home safe." Pip frowned as it watched her go, leaning out of the doorway slightly to watch, but then it felt like eyes were tracing every inch of its body that was tilted out of the door. Quickly, it retreated inside and slammed the door.

Once it had cleaned everything that needed to be cleaned, it headed upstairs for the night.

The lights were all on like it'd left them, and the phone reciever was still off the base. No phone call was ringing through like it had somewhat worried (what with everything else going on), and it finally felt like it could be at peace.

It sunk into bed, ignoring as best it could the gnawing feeling of thousands of eyes watching it in the night.

#welcome home fanfic #Puppet Friends #grey does writing

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shrinkthisviolet · 1 year ago

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❛ i know, i know. i’m the best. ❜ with Iris and Wally please?

I love them 🥰 under the cut since it got long:

Something was up with Wally.

Iris could tell in the way his smiles never reached his eyes, the way he pushed himself harder and harder during training—ignoring Barry’s warnings, ignoring her own, not stopping until he was two seconds away from passing out—and even Jesse had noticed a change and brought it up to Iris.

It all added up to this: her baby brother was hurting, and she was pretty sure she knew why.

“Ever since we found out about…” Barry trailed off, wincing. “Well. You know.”

Iris wished he wouldn’t be so coy about it. She was the one fated to die, and she hated how everyone talked carefully around the issue, refused to let her even say it, as though it wouldn’t mess with anyone’s head to know they were fated to die in a few short months.

But this wasn’t the time to dwell on that. She was a big sister, and she had a job to do. “I’ll talk to him,” she promised, squeezing her fiancé’s hand. And sure enough, she went off to seek out Wally.

It wasn’t hard to find him—he spent most of his time in the Speed Lab, working himself to exhaustion. Part of Barry’s worry stemmed from that, and Iris could relate—speedster burnout was no joke, and apparently felt even worse than regular burnout.

“Wally?” She called, despite knowing he couldn’t hear her at superspeed. “Wally!” She called again when he finally skidded to a stop.

Wally glanced down at her, then sped down to meet her. “Hey, sis. What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that.” Iris frowned, crossing her arms. “What’s up with you?”

Wally tried for a smile—but it didn’t reach his eyes, just like the others, and Iris wondered who he thought he was fooling. “I don’t—”

“Wally.”

That seemed to do it, his smile giving way to grief…before anger overtook it. “Okay, yeah, maybe I’m a little strung out. So what?”

“So what?” She repeated in disbelief. “So slow the fuck down, Wally West! Sit down and talk to someo—”

“Who?” Wally demanded. “Everyone else is already devastated and desperate enough without me adding on my own problems. And you’re the one who…who, you know.”

“Is fated to die?” She frowned as Wally flinched. “Stop doing that. It’s my life, my fate. If none of you can say it, at least let me.”

Wally turned away, but Iris heard him sniffling. “It just…it just makes it more real, when you do.”

She softened. “Wally…”

“I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Irey…being your little brother is the best thing to ever happen to me. I love you so much…but I always, always wish we’d had more time. And especially now…”

“Wally,” she insisted, “this…this isn’t going to hap—“

“You don’t know that!” He snapped, whirling back around—Iris flinched, and he winced. “I…” he rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I…”

“No, no, don’t you dare.” She hugged him tightly. “Wally West, you are my baby brother, and I love you, and you are allowed to be upset and angry about this.”

“So are you.”

She tensed. “What?”

“You think I haven’t noticed what you’re doing too?” He smiled weakly. “Putting on a strong front, putting your life on the line…you said it yourself, you want your life to mean something, you want to leave a mark on the world. But…you also don’t wanna think about what might happen…right?”

“How…Wally—“

“You’re my big sister. Give me some credit.”

She sighed. “Well. I’ve been found out by my own baby brother, it seems.”

“Little brother.”

“Tomayto, tomahto.”

They slid down to the floor, Iris resting her head on Wally’s shoulder while he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. And for a few moments, they just…sat there, in peace and quiet.

“It scares me,” she admitted, “a lot. Not just the…the dying—” Wally flinched, but she kept going “—but also just…I don’t know anything about Savitar. Sure he wants power and revenge on Barry, but…is that all I am? Just a means to an end—killed because I’m Barry’s fiancée? Is that all my death means?” Tears streamed down her face. “It must seem silly to you.”

“No, I…I get it. Sorta.” Iris looked up at him, startled, and he smiled wryly. “You forget, that’s why Zoom kidnapped me. Barry Allen’s…well, not brother exactly, but—”

“Not yet,” Iris said with a soft smile, putting her ring-bearing hand atop his.

“Anyway,” he continued, looking away from her ring, “I was kidnapped because of my connection to him. Just a means to a end. And it’s…not the same thing, but…I know how you feel, at least a little, if it’s any consolation to you.”

“Oh Wally.” Iris squeezed his arm. “You are way more than just a means to an end, okay? You’re a speedster. One who might very well outrun the Flash one day. You’re awesome, Wally West.”

“I know, I know.” Wally grinned—and much to Iris’s relief, it looked genuinely bright. “I’m the best.”

“You could be worse,” she teased, laughing when he nudged her with a huff.

“For the record,” he added softly, “you’re pretty damn awesome yourself, Iris West. I’m lucky to have a sister like you.”

“Aww.” Iris smiled. “If only I had something to record that with.”

“Ugh.” Despite his eye roll though, he was still smiling, much to Iris’s relief.

“For the record,” she said, ruffling his hair, “the feeling’s mutual.”

prompt list!

#lavi’s prompt fills #iris west #iris west allen #wally west #brotp: it’s a lot better now #the flash

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loveyoutumbler75 · 1 year ago

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Wally takes a snooze

unfinished fanfic

that has not been spell checked

“Gee, Walls, you sure do look tired. When was the last time you went to sleep?” Barnaby asks his small friend, concerned as he drags his feet with fatigue.

“Oh, you know how it is, Barnaby. House doesn’t like me staying asleep too hard and… well, without her, i might be asleep all day!” Wally laughs, but exhaust makes it sound like a pathetic sound he slapped on the end of his words in attempt to mask his true mindset.

“Well,” poppy spoke from the left of the two, “Why don’t you sleep at one of our houses? I’m sure anyone in the neighborhood would love to have you.” Poppy flapped her feathery wings with joy. Wally looks up at poppy with a shocked look, but even that seemed more tired than ‘shocked’.

“Really? Though, I’d hate to be a bother…” Wally trailed off in thought , but that was quicly stopped by Poppy swooping him up with her wings. “Nonsense! I’ll invite everyone for a sleepover at the barn! It sure has been a while since we’ve all had a get-together, huh?” Poppy spoke as she carried Wally. “I supposed so,” Wally spoke with a quiet voice, allowing the rocking movement and idle sounds of walking from she who carried him to lull him to sleep.

he awoke to the muffled sounds of familiar voices conversating and the smell of freshly baked cookies roaming the air. The rustic decorations around the room he was in told him he was in poppy’s house. A lamp on the side table next to the bed he’d been tucked into emited a soft glow around the room. His jacket had been carefully hung on a pole of the bed frame. Wally sat up, his now un-swooped hair falling to the side, the bed creaking slightly under the shift of weight.

Cracking the door open slowly, introduced to Poppy’s quaint living room with most of everyone doing activities; some

Cracking the door open, Wally was introduced to near everyone of the neighborhood in Poppy’s quaint living room. All doing different sorts of activities; Julie and Sally doing each other’s nails on the coffee table, Barnaby making subpar jokes and puns as Frank looked unamused and Eddie the opposite; laughing heartily whenever Barnaby delivered a punch line. Howdy and Poppy presumably in the kitchen, where pot’s clanking and the sound of a bubbling sound were faintly heard underneath the conversations. Tired, still, Wally wordlessly walked to the coffee table, sitting on his knees and laying his head down on the table in a way he could watch his friends with their nail-painting.

“Oh,” Julie looked from Sally’s nails with excite, “Hi, Wally! We thought you’d never wake up, but I’m glad to see you here now.” Sally waved with the hand that wasn’t being painted. Julie’s acknowledgement of Wally lead to everyone else in the room following suit with their hellos, with even Frank putting a few kind words out.

“Ooh, Wally, if you want, me and Julie can paint your nails! I know just the color that would work perfectly with your complextion.” Sally offered with a look of joy, her smile brought one to Wally, even if it was drowned so heavily with his exhausted features.

Just as Wally had finished agreeing, Poppy and Howdy came in, adorned in messy aprons and with Howdy’s hair tied back in a mini-ponytail for safety measures. “Food’s ready!” Howdy was happy to say, shaking his hands with emphasis.

Julie capped the bottle of paint and put on the table, quickly telling Sally to not move as she ran off to the kitchen. Eddie and Frank also got up to leave, Frank with haste for desperation to escape Barnaby’s atrocious puns.

“Oh, Wally! You’re awake— good, good. I was worried you would’ve have slept through dinner, “ Poppy smiled, sitting on the couch and leaning against the armrest.

Wally smiled, getting up and moving from the floor to the couch with Poppy.

As he settled, finding that leaning into a Poppy’s soft and fluffy feathers were optimal comfortability, Julie waltzed in, carefully balancing two plates of food for Sally and her.

Just as Wally was about to drift to a comfortable sleep once more, he was jostled by Poppy shaking him gently. “No, none of that. You still have to eat, ya’ sleepyhead.” She laughed at her own joke, getting up before Wally could properly right himself, letting him fall against the couch cushions.

#welcome home

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originaltyphoonkryptonite · 4 days ago

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Chapter 18: Old Friends

Zella pov

It was a slow day today. Dick was taking a nap in his apartment with Cippia. I had the store to myself. The bell above the door rings while I was in the storage room doing inventory.

"Just a second!", I call out as I put down my clipboard and pen. I walk out of the room and head to the counter.

"Welcome to 'Silent Shadow'. Can I help you?"

There were 5 people who had entered. Three guys and two girls. One of the girls had long blond hair and dark gray eyes. She was wearing a brown jacket over a green shirt and jeans with boots. The other girl had amber eyes with short red hair while wearing a red and white dress. The boy that was more muscular then the others had black hair and blue eyes while wearing a black tank with jeans. The next of the group had dark skin, pale green eyes and blond hair with a jacket whose collar covered his neck. The last one was a ginger with green eyes with a long sleeve-shirt wearing a short-sleeve jacket over it.

"Yeah. We're looking for a friend's place but must have took a wrong turn.", The redheaded man says.

"Well if that friend happens to be Dick Grayson, you are in the right place."

"Wait what?", The blond girl says with a raised eyebrow.

"He rents an apartment above my store."

"Oh."

"There is an entrance to a hallway in the alley so next time use that."

"We apologize for the inconvenience.", the one that seemed to be the leader said.

"No problem. The door in the back leads to that hallway too so follow me.", I reply as I take out my keys. They follow me to that door, waited for me to unlock it, and then into the hallway.

"So what's your name beautiful?", the ginger asks.

"Zella but sorry not interested, not to mention I think the girl next to you is angry."

He looks over to the blond and gulps. "Sorry Artemis."

"Watch it Bay-watch."

I lead them to the apartments and knocked on Dick's door.

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Dick pov

I hear someone knock on my door and I groan. I get up and notice that Cippa is asleep on his back on my bed. I pull on a shirt and make my way through the living room after closing my bedroom door. I open the door a crack to my surprise to see the original Team there.

"Sorry for waking you on your off day Dick. I'll leave you to your guests.", Zell says as she heads back to her bookstore. I open the door wider and let them in. We made our ways to the couch and chairs in my living room.

"So why are you guys here?", I ask as I sit down.

"Dude! Why didn't you tell me you're getting married!?", Wally whines at me.

"What?"

"My friend, you are engaged no?", Kaldur asks me.

"Shit! I forgot that either Damian, Tim, or Jason might mention this to the team.", I think to myself.

"We're still kinda planing things so that's why I haven't said anything yet."

"Yet?", Artemis asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"So when do we get to meet her!?", Wally jumps up and down in his seat.

"Huh? But didn't you guys already meet?"

"No.", Conner says.

"Hello Megan!", M'gann says her catchphrase.

"What is it?", Conner asks.

"That lady that brought us up here is your fiancée."

"Yeah that was Zell.", I said with a smile.

"She's cute.", Wally says.

"Yeah she kinda is."

"So has she picked out a wedding dress yet?" Artemis asks.

"I don't think she has. She really doesn't have a lot of friends so I don't know what she'll do for bridesmaids."

"Well maybe Artemis and I can fill in for her?"

"Not sure......she kinda takes a while to warm up to people."

"Maybe Zatanna and Barbra can also help?"

"You want my two exs help my fiancée pick a wedding dress?"

"Good point." Artemis says. "Not sure how that would go."

"Either way not sure what she is going to do about that."

"I have an idea Dick." Kaldur says.

"Oh?"

"We could have lunch, the seven of us. To get to know each other."

"I guess that could work."

"What was that?", Conner asks as he looks around.

"What was what?", Wally asks.

"I heard something.", he says as he stands up. He goes over to my bedroom door and opens it. He narrows his eyes and heads back to his seat.

"I could have sworn I heard something."

I internally smirk as I suspect Cippia woke up and used a shadow to go to Zell's place.

"Let me call Zell."

~Time-skip~

Gus happened to be in the bookstore when I called so Zell is eating lunch with us. She and M'gann made the food and it was good. It went fine I guess. Zell sat next to me and did try her best. Though when asked about a wedding dress she did blush. She's kinda cute when she blushes like that. She got along with Artemis better then I expected.

The Team left and Zella flopped onto my couch on her back.

"How many more heroes am I going to meet?"

"More. Much more.", I reply with a smirk.

"Figures."

I go to sit next to her on the couch.

"M'gann wants to take you wedding dress shopping."

"How wonderful." she says as she puts a pillow over her face.

"It won't be that bad.", I chuckle as I remove the pillow.

"I can not believe you agreed to go on a double date with Wally and Artemis this Saturday!", she glares at me.

"I had no choice. If I said no they would get suspicious."

"You are enjoying this aren't you?"

"Maybe just a little?"

"Just for that you can pay for dinner that night."

"Oh come on."

"Nope."

"Alright.", I reply with a smirk.

"What are you planing?"

"Nothing...."

"Don't you dar-!", she cuts off her own sentence as I start to tickle her.

"Mercy! Mercy!", she cries out.

"Hmm, nope.", I say as I tickle her some more.

"Ci-cippia!"

Cippia appears out of a shadow and jumps on me pinning me down.

"My turn." she says with an evil grin while Cippia has a big doggy grin.

"Mercy?"

"Hmm, nope." she mimics my words as she returns the favor.

#oc #nightwing

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whatohitsonfirewelp · 3 years ago

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Question to yj fans, I stopped watching after the second season and I gotta know, is it worth watching again/continuing?

#heard Connor is dead now #also heard wally might be brought back #which I’m iffy on since like #that’s kinda been something we’ve been saying for awhile now #yj has its issues but it’s always gonna have a special place in heart #it’s what got me into dc #whatoh back at it again #yj phantoms #yj4 #young justice #yjtv

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birdy-bat-writes · 4 years ago

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New Year’s Bet

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Pairing: Tim Drake x Fem! Reader

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Word vomit and weird writing? But mostly fluff.

Summary: You and Tim have liked each other for a while. It’s Your chance to confess at the New Years Eve party.

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Sometimes, life overcomplicates things, and when you’re a teenage superhero that fights crime in between your homework, you don’t want any more complication. That’s why you really resented today. You had just come back from a mission with the team. When you got back with the rest of your Alpha teammates, you noticed that Beta had already been here for a while. Typical. Still, it was sweet that you found Tim waiting for you. His hair looked a little more ruffled than when you saw it last, and he looked as tired as you felt but it didn’t stop him from flashing you the smile that could light up your whole world.

“Hi, Boy Wonder.”

“Hey, how’d your end of the mission go?”

“Not bad. No injuries, so that’s good, but I, for one, am exhausted.”

“Same here.”

“How’d your end go?”

“Well, I guess you’ll find out in about 30 seconds because Batman is calling us for a briefing.” You laughed and headed over for the briefing along with your teammates. Seriously, Batsy could not have picked a worse day to send you on a mission that ran for 14 hours. It was peak winter and New Year’s Eve. When you were deployed, you could tell by the looks on your teammates faces that they weren’t too thrilled either and just wanted to be in their beds. You all practically exuded lethargy. Although, as much of a toll as the covert op took on you, the emotional ache of trying to confess to your crush for a week and failing was far more crushing. That’s why you were so exhausted. For the last two weeks, either you or Tim were called away for something before you had the chance to tell him, and now you were back to debating if you should even try. See? Complicated. You were pulled from your thoughts when you saw the crowd around you disperse, indicating that Batman was done talking.

“Briefing over, Nap time!” you exclaimed.

“Nap time? Its 2:30 pm.” Tim huffed a laugh.

“Yes, and that means I have not slept in 27 hours. You and I both know that’s never a good thing.” He smiled and looked like he was about to say something. Presumably sarcastic, before,

“No one’s napping. Y/S/N, Robin, you both said you would help me decorate the party hall today.”, M’gann said. She was right. A few weeks ago, the Justice League members had decided to throw a New Year’s Eve party and invite all the members of the junior team. M’gann was tasked with decorating. You had promised to help, and you weren’t one to break a promise.

“You’re right, I’ll be right there.”

“Great! Robin, you too, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” Of course, Tim was going. You were going to be there and there’s no way he’s missing any opportunity to talk to you. Especially since he had been trying to tell you something rather important for over a week now. He was hopelessly in love with you and now he really wanted to tell you. What better place than a party, right? Gosh, he hoped you felt the same way. I mean, Conner and Gar insisted that you did.

The two of you Zeta tubed over to the hall of justice and saw that Bart, Conner, Jaime and Dick were already there. By the looks of it (the looks of Dick covered in confetti and holding a glitter banner with his foot), they were also roped into helping M’gann. Understandable since the room you were standing in was enormous. This was just one of the spare rooms on the top floor of the Hall of Justice. The back of it was a wide balcony overlooking statues of esteemed heroes, and beyond that, the city skyline. The air was icy but still refreshing. You were admiring the sight when the first order was barked, surprisingly, not by M’gann.

“Okay! Tim, Y/N, you guys hang the banner. Seven feet up on the left wall.” Dick ordered. “Bart, Jaime, you two set up the tables. Conner, make sure they don’t eat all the food. Anyone that can fly is left responsible for the disco ball. I don’t trust any of you with the sound system so I will be picking the music.” He looked a little too happy about that last part. He’d better not play 80’s music all night.

***

“It’s going to happen…” Bart whispered under his breath.

“No, you will not eat the-”

“Not that! Look at Robin and Y/S/N. Today’s the legendary day.” He cut Jaime off.

“Oh yeah, you said they get married in the future. Today’s the day they get together?”

“Yeah, and we’re going to see it live. Now I’ll know who actually wins the bet!”

***

You dragged the step ladder over to the wall while Tim came over with the banner and measuring tape. Honestly, you had no clue that Dick was such a stickler for organization. Still, it wasn’t as boring or tiring as you thought it was. Joking around with Tim brought some life into you.

You had climbed up to the four-foot mark and taped the banner edge to the wall. Nice and even, but you didn’t step quite right while getting down and tripped. A fully trained hero of the night like you would have had no trouble landing on their feet, and you didn’t, but you didn’t get to land on your feet because you landed in someone’s arms. Tim Drake’s arms.

“Are you alright?” He asked, concerned.

“Yeah, I am. Thank you.” Your arms clung onto his shoulders and his hands tucked under your knees and waist.

“Are you sure? You didn’t hurt your ankle, did you?”

“I don’t think so. How’d you catch me that fast?”

“Um… my protective override gives me superpowers?” You both laughed at this. His eyes were so genuine and pure. It was only when you felt his chest heave from laughter against your body that you realized he was still holding you, and suddenly, you could feel your heartbeat get faster.

“Hey, guys, is the banner up?” You heard Dick’s voice approaching and scrambled to your feet. Tim rushed to straighten himself.

“Yeah, everything’s great here. All done!” Tim spoke a just fast enough to sound suspicious, but Dick ignored that. He just might win that bet tonight.

“Perfect. You guys can go home and get changed for the party. Everything is pretty much done around here.” With one last smile to Tim, you zeta’d back home with M’gann so she could help you choose your dress, and you skipped the entire time.

***

“He caught you?!” M’gann was your biggest cheerleader and she was like an older sister to you. Tim was your best friend, but she was the one you went to when you needed to talk about feelings and the girl stuff. You know, like how to keep your hair up during a fight.

“Yeah! Does that mean something?”

“Obviously! I’ve seen both of you jump off 20 story building and land on your feet. There was no reason for him to catch you unless he really wanted to be your hero.” You were positively giddy.

“Maybe I should tell him.”

“Maybe? DEFINITELY! And you can do it in this.” She pulled out a simple black tulle dress that hemmed just above the knee. You really liked it. Paired with a pair of silver shoes and some light jewelry, you were ready to go.

***

By the time you made it to the hall of Justice, the room was already filled with people. Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman sat in the corner of the room. You were sure Supes and Wonder Woman were trying to convince Batman to actually leave the corner but were not succeeding. The decorations you had put up were gleaming in the lights that contrasted the fading daylight outside. Then you saw him. Tim was dressed in a black suit with a dark red tie. He stood next to Bart, smiling that smile again and you felt the butterflies come back. You weren’t alone though. When he saw you, the whole world melted away. You looked absolutely beautiful. With the way your hair fell so gracefully over your glowing skin and how your dress fit you so perfectly… It probably wasn’t possible to be more in love with you than he already was but if it were, he would have fallen hard. ‘Butterflies’ was an understatement.

“So, are you going to go talk to her or would you rather just keep staring at her?” Tim’s thoughts were interrupted by a very amused Garfield Logan. “She’s waving at you. Go talk to her.” He urged. Tim started walking and looked back only once to see gar with the biggest smirk on his face.

“Y/N, you look really nice.” He said. You tried to hide your blush, but he saw it.

“Thanks, so do you.” The smile was audible in your voice and the thought of you smiling at him made the corners of his mouth pull up even more. He wanted more than anything to hear your voice, see your smile, to gaze into your gorgeous eyes forever. “They effort we put into decorating this place paid off. I never thought I’d see Batman under a disco ball.”

“Funny, it’s my sixth time seeing that. One time, there was a shark involved.”

“Someday, you have got to tell me that story.”

***

Minutes turned into Hours and you spent most of them in the back of the room with Tim.

“Capes are functional!”

“How?! Edna Mode said-!”

“Yeah, but mine is bullet proof!”

“Tim, your whole suit is bulletproof! There’s no point of a cape!”

“Fine, it gives me flair.” He joked. In the distance, Bart was watching the two of you giggle in each other’s company.

“It’s 11:30, Jaime, we just have to wait half an hour”

“Dude, this is creepy.”

“But necessary.”

M’gann passed the two of with Conner by her side. She waved at the two of you and joined Artemis and Wally. Both couples looked so happily in love. “You know, I think Conner’s planning on proposing.”

“Really? M’gann will be so happy! I can’t wait for the day he does.”

“Do married couples kiss at midnight on New Year’s?”

“I guess so. I mean, the point of it is to kiss the person you want to spend the new year with, right?”

“Right. So, do you think Dick will kiss Barbara or Wally?” You chuckled. “I say Wally.”

“Never tell Dick, but I agree with you.”

“Are you going to kiss anyone at midnight?” The question had you flustered to say the least. You weren’t expecting him of all people to ask you that.

“Well, I-”

“Guys, have you seen the cake they’re bringing out? Its massive! Come see.” He tried to pull the two of you toward the kitchen, but Bart was having none of that. It was too close to time and things weren’t about to get off schedule now. So, he sped over.

“Hey, Gar! What was that about cake? In the kitchen you say? Cool, let’s go now! Y/N, Tim, have a lovely evening.”

“Wai-” And they were gone. You and Tim looked at each other with eyebrows raised. There was a non-verbal exchange of “That was weird, right?” and “Eh, not for them.” Tim went to get two drinks and you made your way to the balcony. The bright lights of the city skyline looked so alluring for no explainable reason. They looked like stars scattered among the buildings and you couldn’t help but think of all the nights you’d spent staring at the stars until the sun came up next to Tim. You really wanted to tell him tonight. It was 11:55 by now, imagine if you had your first kiss on New Year’s. But that won’t happen. Pssht.

“Two glasses of punch, lots of ice.” He handed you a glass.

“Thank you very much.” Tim’s mind was racing silently. He kept thinking if he should or shouldn't confess. With your own mind racing, you broke the silence "I never answered your question...I- No, I don't have anyone I plan to kiss tonight." His face relaxed for a second before a fiery blush crept up "Do you...plan to kiss anyone?"

He responds "I wouldn't say I plan to. Just…" Should I…? Ah, screw it he thought. He's in love with you with you and he wants you to know. "Y/N?"

“Hm?”

“I really like you. A lot, and-" he's interrupted by a shout, It's 11:58 only two minutes ‘till New Years! You were smiling uncontrollably. "Two minutes till midnight, wow. I know you probably don't feel the same, but I just wanted you to know that since the day I met you, I've been so unbelievably happy. You make that way." Someone started a countdown from 60.

You began, "Timmy, I like you too." You placed your hands on his and the countdown reached 35. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the heat of the moment, but you felt particularly bold and said, "Tim, we kiss people on New Year’s because we want to be with them for the new year. You make so happy all the time and I love being around you and-and- " you stammered while the countdown reached 10. "Will you spend the new year with me?"

5, 4,

"I'd love to."

3. You both looked into each other’s eyes, glanced at each other's lips. He placed a hand on your cheek and gently drew you in.

1! His lips were on yours. Happy New Years! The crowd cheered while you moved your arms up to pull Tim closer into the kiss. It was soft and warm and perfect. You both pulled away grinning like idiots. Bart looked over at you two, Crash.

***

Later on, the Justice League is watching from afar how cute you two are. Wonder Woman and Canary were awing while Arrow and Green Lantern were giving you the "Way to go kiddo" head nod.

"I’d better ask Tim who confessed first." Batman said. Superman looked at him questioningly. "I had a bet with Nightwing. My money was on Y/S/N"

Superman just smiled and said, "You're going lose your money, Bruce."

"Were you actually listening in on their conversation?"

"Um..." Batman looked at him with faint surprise and gave a nod of disapproval. "Oh, what can I say I was rooting for them!"

"I'm disappointed in you Clark. Now quick, tell me what they said."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Taglist: @anothertimdrakestan @offendedfishnoises @comicsandhoney @river-bottom-nightmare @catxsnow @cries-in-fangirl-23 @batarella @idkmanicantenglish @sonofrobin16 @l-horizon11

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dibs4ever · 4 years ago

Text

The Next Generation Fic Excerpt

Rundown:Takes place in the future in the Young Justice Universe, Wally came back to life and married Artemis. Dick and Barbara are married. This story centers around their kids

Wally and Artemis children. 15 year old Twins Mark and Melanie West: Melanie is a speedster named Bullet, Mark is an Archer named Bullseye

Dick and Barbara’s kids are- Leah Grayson who is 12(not yet a vigilante) and Nathan Grayson who is 15 and the current Robin

Nathan and Melanie have just started secretly dating

"Good morning family." Nathan grinned from the top of the banister as he flipped down

"Nathan Wayne Grayson! You are going to rip your school uniform or scuff the banister, how many times do I have to tell you to use the stairs like a normal human"

Nate chuckled "Sorry Mom, I'll keep it in mind next time" he grinned pecking his mom on the cheek.

Dick chuckled and walked toward her "You know Alfred used to tell me the same thing" he said giving her a quick kiss on the lips

Barbara continued to watch her son

Nathan smiled as Leah walked out of the kitchen he picked her up and spun her around "Good Morning little sis!"

"Put me down!" Leah grunted Nathan laughed and obeyed. He patted her on the head before heading into the kitchen to make himself breakfast

"Did you guys run into some sort of toxin on patrol lately" Barbara asked

Dick shook his head "And as far as I know he hasn't while he was with Batman either." he thought for a moment "But he is a little giddy, isn't he?" He rose an eyebrow

Barbara nodded

Meanwhile at the West house

Wally was sitting at the table drinking his coffee. Artemis was across from him also drinking her morning brew. While Mark stood in the kitchen eating his large breakfast

"Good morning Daddy!" Melanie grinned as she walked into the kitchen. She leaned down and kissed his cheek

"Hey sweetie, how are you?" Wally smiled

Melanie walked past him and grabbed an energy drink from the fridge "Oh I'm great. Mark are you almost ready so we can get to Grayson manor?" She asked as she opened the can

Mark nodded "Yeah just let me finish this up and I'll be ready to go!" He said

Melanie smiled "great I'm just going to go check my hair again one last time" she said heading back up the stairs

Artemis tilted her head to the side "Does she seem a little happy lately?" She asked the room

Wally shrugged "Maybe she's just been in a good mood"

Artemis shook her head "That girl has a lot of my personality and the only time I remember being that giddy is when..." she glanced over at Wally "Mark does she have a new boyfriend?" She asked looking at her son

Mark shook his head "No, if she did I would think I'd know"

Wally's head quickly darted to Artemis "She's just happy babe, maybe she's doing well in her classes" he suggested

Mark nodded in agreement and Artemis sighed giving in to what the boys were saying

"You ready to go?" Melanie asked as she walked back into the kitchen

Mark nodded and set his plate down in the sink

Later that night

Melanie had just returned home from patrol. She had changed out of her suit, showered and was now in her pajamas which consisted of a ragged out oversized t-shirt that she stole from her brother and pajama shorts.

Meanwhile across town

Robin was assisting Batman in taking down Penguin. They had been fighting him all night and had finally caught him. Robin watched from a short distance as Batman handed Penguin over to the authorities. He played with some of his tech to occupy his time when an idea hit him.

He walked toward his grandfather "Excuse me Batman?" Robin said

Bruce turned to look at his grandson "Yes Robin." He rose an eyebrow

"I'm going to do one last loop around the city to make sure everything is safe " he pointed

Batman nodded "Okay, after that you are off duty " he informed him, since it was already 2:30am on a school night.

Robin nodded and grappled off. He let himself free fall for a moment doing a flip before shooting the hook off to the next building

Robin crouched in front of the window of the West house he knocked on the window lightly and waited a few seconds

Melanie opened the window "Na-Err Robin?" She said with a grin

He chuckled and climbed into her bedroom

"At your service" he bowed

She laughed and super sped toward him pinning him against the wall

"You know I love it when you do that" he grinned

Melanie smiled " I know"

"We haven't been alone in almost a week" he said softly

Melanie nodded "We are now, and do you know what I'm going to do about it?" She whispered

Nathan shot her a grin "I don't know, why don't you show me."

Melanie smiled and leaned forward kissing his lips.

After a few minutes of making out they pulled apart.

"So how was patrol hero?" She asked stepping away

"We got off to a late start because I had to appear with the rest of my family at a Wayne interprise thing. But it was fantastic Batman and Robin took on Penguin. We brought him down too" he said with a smile "How was your night heroine?" He asked following her

"Great we fought Gorilla Grodd" she said

Nathan nodded "You look cute to of just fought a giant ape" he complimented

She laughed "I'm wearing Shorts and one of Marks old T-shirts, plus my hair is all wet" she pointed

He smiled at her "And you wear that shirt a lot better than Mark ever did" he smirked and stepped closer to her "Your wet hair makes you look relaxed" he said running his fingers through her wet hair "And don't get me started on those shorts that show of those speedster legs of yours" he said as he nuzzled her neck

Melanie laughed lightly and pushed him back. She reached up pealing his mask off "There's those beautiful baby blues" she said pressing her forehead against his as she traced where the mask had been with her fingers

"Is that all you like about me?" He asked with a teasing smile

Melanie tilted her head "Well this Robin suit does make you look very good" she grinned

He smiled and was about to lean in to kiss her when the door swung open.

Like the ninja he was Robin jumped under her bed at lightning speed. Melanie quickly moved sitting on her bed just as Wally stepped in

"Hey honey, I saw the light on and thought you might of fell asleep without turning it off" he explained

Melanie laughed "Oh yeah, I know I should be going to sleep but you know how long it takes me to wind down after an exciting patrol"

Wally nodded "Your mom and brother just got home but you know your brother he's already passed out" he thumbed down the hall

"Robin, Batman said he let you off, where are you" Nightwing's voice could be heard from under the bed

Wally rose an eye brow and stepped further into Melanie's room. He bent down and looked under her bed

"Nate?" He asked

Nathan let out a chuckle and pushed himself out from under the bed "Ugh hey Uncle Wally" he said awkwardly

"What are you doing under Mel's bed? He asked curiously

"I umm, couldn't sleep either. Mel told me she was wide awake so I came over to hang out. I thought I'd get in trouble for being over so late so I hid" Nathan said nervously

Wally chuckled "Oh Nate you know you're welcome anytime, but you probably should be going home since your dad is looking for you" he pointed toward the communicator on his suit

It buzzed again "Robin, your parents are on my case. As Batman and your adoptive grandfather, it's my duty to demand that you return home now!" Bruce's voice boomed over the communicator

Nathan rolled his eyes "Yes sir" he spoke then switched to Nightwing "I'm on my way" he said

"Alright" Nightwing a voice came over a moment later

"Bye Uncle Wally, see you at school Mels" Nathan said nonchalantly as he picked up his mask and slipped it on. He opened the window and gave one last wave before grappling off into the night.

#dickbabs #dick grayson #barbara gordon #batfamily #batfam headcanons

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mooncustafer · 3 years ago

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Recover, Regroup, Roadtrip

Agent Dale Cooper disappeared in March 1989. The case is still open. Agent Dale Cooper disappeared in October 2016. The case is still open.

for @laughingpinecone /

/ @countdowntotwinpeaks‘ WONDERFULXSTRANGE 2021

“Diane, I am uncertain of the date and time, or indeed if such concepts have any meaning in this place. Nor do I have my recorder, but I find verbalizing my thoughts helps me to resist the confusion and lethargy. As for addressing my words to you, even though you’ll never hear them— well, old habits die hard.”

It pleased Wally Brando on a profound level to discover that a few pay-phones remained in Philadelphia, that reaching out was not yet the prerogative only of those who could afford a landline or a mobile. He could also have checked his email on a terminal at one of the city’s Public Libraries, and indeed, made a note to do so within the day so that he might catch up on the news of parents and former school friends. The pay phone was also blessed with both the yellow and the white pages, and the number he sought appeared under “F.” Getting transferred to Dr. Albert Rosenfield was a more complex quest, but he was persistent as well as polite, and after a few minutes he was able to speak to Dr. Rosenfield’s voice mail, if not the man himself.

He introduced himself with salutations, and was about the explain the nature of his request when a beep signalled that the allotted time had run out.

“To listen to your message, press one. To re-record your message, press two,” said the voice of the machine.

Silently cursing his volubility, Wally pressed two. This time he simplified the introduction, and asked if Dr. Rosenfield would be good enough to meet him that evening at the Morimoto Japanese restaurant not far from the FBI offices, to discuss a matter of deep concern connected, he believed, with the little town of Twin Peaks. When the beep came this time, he listened to his message and then, satisfied, hung up. The restaurant he’d named was slightly above his means, but he was meeting a friend of his godfather, and wanted to do justice to the occasion, even if the reason for it was one of peculiar anxiety to himself.

“Diane, I have tried so many times to escape— on the last attempt I really did get out into the world, but my plans, I fear, had dire repercussions for you, and to no end— my course still led me back to the Black Lodge. Some flaw in my own nature keeps trapping me in this loop; perhaps it’s what they sometimes call Saṃsāra.”

It was Agent Tammy Preston’s custom, when scraping the internet for information relevant to one or more recent cases, to check her email inbox every seven minutes— to do so every five minutes would disrupt the flow of her work, but ten-minute gaps might let something important go unanswered for too long. Just now the inbox was due another glance, and switching tabs she saw that two minutes earlier Director Bryson had replied to Tammy’s email of that morning with an invitation to come by her desk at her earliest possible convenience.

Tammy locked her screen, paused ‘Soft Fuzzy Man’ on her playlist and removed her headphones. Picking up the folder marked Missing Persons, 1989– Palmer, she slipped back into her pumps and made for Bryson’s office. The door was open but Tammy stopped at the threshold and rapped on the wall.

“Come in,” said Director Bryson, looking up from a folder. Bossa nova music played softly in the background as Tammy entered and pulled up a chair. It sometimes puzzled Tammy that apart from herself and Director Gordon Cole, no one in this particular division of the FBI seemed to have any interest in music recorded after 1979. (The first few times she’d heard ‘Du Hast’ pounding through the walls of Cole’s office, she’d wondered if this taste for metal was the result, or perhaps the cause, of his hearing loss; but after he’d joked to an unamused Agent Rosenfield about how these were difficult times and difficult times called for Dave Brubeck, she’d looked up the reference in case it was a coded message, and then the next day had overheard Gordon whistling ‘Mister Sandman,’ a song she knew primarily from an internet meme, at which point she concluded that the ear wants what it wants, regardless of demographic.)

“You told me you’d found some serious inconsistencies in the records surrounding Twin Peaks and the Palmer case?”

Tammy nodded, hesitated:

“I believe there may be inconsistencies as well in my own perceptions of the case.”

“Well now, that I find a little harder to believe.” Bryson smiled, but then her voice grew serious: “I’ve looked over the notes you made, and it confirms my own doubts about events.”

“Worse yet— the fact that I truly left the Lodge and then returned to it, will enable the beings that inhabit this place to take another twenty-five year turn in my likeness, unleashing even more evil on the world. The only thing stalling them is the doppelgänger I had MIKE make for the Jones family, but I don’t know if he’s still under the White Lodge’s protection.”

After all these months it still surprised Harry Truman there was so little physical pain, and so much boredom, to dying. Oh there’d been pain at the beginning, when he’d started treatment and had had to stop drinking; the memory of detoxing still made him shudder. But now he only felt a tiredness too huge for sleep to make any dent in it; and since he couldn’t sleep all the time, there were a great many hours during which all he could do was lie in the hospice bed or sit in one of the hospice chairs, and think.

At this point dying didn’t even sound so bad— it wasn’t like the past three decades had been all that great. He imagined going to sleep, just filling up a big bowl of silence and darkness and sinking into it, and then he felt bad for thinking that because Frank had already lost enough people without Harry lighting out too. Anyways, with the things he’d seen over the years he’d be a damn fool to think there was anything peaceful about death and whatever came after. So he’d lie awake trying to find some other topic to ponder, and that’s generally when the boredom set in.

Right now, courtesy of the nap he’d had in the afternoon after today’s treatment had left him especially exhausted, he was lying awake in the wee small hours. 3:52 am, said the clock on his bedside table beside the stack of paperbacks Frank had brought him on his visits— Harry wasn’t afraid of e-readers the way Lucy was of cellular phones, but he found the smell of paper comforting. It reminded him of the Bookhouse. The hospice tended to smell of disinfectants and sweat and soup. The food actually wasn’t as bad as the food at the hospital in Twin Peaks used to be, not that any food could be as bad as the hospital food in Twin Peaks used to be, but it made no difference to Harry, whose appetite had been gone for months. Frank always brought a slice of Norma’s pie too, carefully sealed in an old cookie tin to keep it fresh, but Harry could never manage more than a couple of bites, and they didn’t always stay down.

Being awake in the middle of the night in a hospice wasn’t as bad as being awake in the middle of the night when you were alone at home— the occasional voices or footsteps from the corridors beyond were reminders that whatever might be happening to Harry, life went on for the staff; and the lights from the city outside showed that life went on for others outside the hospice walls. When he’d first arrived, those city lights had made it hard to sleep, but now they substituted for the starry sky above Twin Peaks. There were fewer birds to watch in the city, though sparrows, pigeons or a starling sometimes lit on the ledge outside his window and peered in at him, or maybe at their own reflections. The frequent rain pattering against the glass— well, that sounded the same here as it did in a cabin.

Frank had called to tell him about Margaret Lanterman. Harry sometimes wondered if he should have stayed in Twin Peaks and died in his own home like her, instead of lingering in this hospice like the doomed heroine of some nineteenth-century novel. Or like Annie Blackburn. Or Audrey Horne.

The rain was spattering now against Harry’s window, bending the light from the Japanese stone lantern in the pocket-sized garden below. Harry couldn’t remember what the hospice building looked like from the outside, but he guessed it was similar in style to the mid-century one next door where the day-patients came for their treatments. A flash silhouetted the roofline; five seconds later came the thunder-crack. Harry settled back and closed his eyes.

Sleep pulled him into dreams of an espresso machine, like the one in the coffee place down in the lobby next to the gift shop for visitors. This machine filled a whole room, metal pipes feeding back on themselves like some kind of espressouroboros, neither steam nor coffee escaping from the grotesque contraption. Agent Cooper stood wearily before it with two empty coffee-cups. Harry was just wondering who the second cup was for, when Coop looked up and met his eyes:

“What year is this?!”

Harry sat up in bed, listened intently for two full minutes, but he didn’t hear Coop’s voice again. He sighed. Sometimes the mind pulls imaginary sounds out of the background noise. False pattern recognition or something— Coop would have known a word for it. Harry had little hope left they’d ever find Cooper, or if they did, that he’d still be the man he’d known. Yet he’d carried on, more (he told himself) out of habit than any real hope. He’d kept in touch with Agent Rosenfield, even when it meant letting him know about the cancer— not that Albert would blab the secret to anyone in Twin Peaks.

“Hello?”

“Good, you’re still alive.” Albert’s personality hadn’t mellowed with the years, exactly, but familiarity had worn the edges off his jibes.

“Shut up, Albert. So what have you found?” Albert’s calls generally came every three months, but never at nine in the morning, and he’d last spoken to Harry only two weeks back. Something important must have happened.

“Actually, Sheriff Truman, I’m the one coming to you for information.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, it’s not easy to do investigations from a hospital bed. What can I tell you that you can’t get from other sources?”

“I need you to summarize the Laura Palmer case back in 1989, and the actions of Agent Cooper in Twin Peaks at that time.”

“Albert, is this one of your damn cognitive tests? You already know—”

“We’re both too tired to argue, just humor me.”

“How detailed do you want?”

“An outline will suffice.”

Harry took a deep breath and briefly listed the finding of Laura’s body, and the living but dazed and injured Ronnette, and the arrival of Agent Dale Cooper to lead the investigation. He skimmed over the crimes of Jacques Reneault and some of the other peripheral drama that had occurred in the town around that time, noted that Leland Palmer had murdered his own daughter, albeit while not fully himself, and was beginning to recount Cooper’s temporary suspension and Windom Earle’s campaign of terror, when Albert interrupted:

“You’ve still got the unofficial version, then.”

“Unofficial?”

“According to FBI records and your colleagues at the Twin Peaks Sheriff’s Office, Laura Palmer is an unsolved missing-person case.”

Harry began to feel sick.

“Goddammit, Albert, you did the autopsy. I punched you and you fell across her body. You found a broken poker chip in her stomach—” Albert broke in:

“I hadn’t disclosed that detail to anybody I’ve questioned about this.” His voice was a little shaky. “Listen, Harry,” he continued. “Last Friday I was contacted by a young man wearing motorcycle leathers and talking like Jack Kerouac on quaaludes.”

“Wally.”

“Naturally I supposed him to be from your iodine-deficient neck of the woods even before he introduced himself as your godson and the offspring of those lieutenants of yours. He told me he’d come because he wasn’t sure where else to turn. Apparently he keeps in touch with his parents as he rides across the continent, but in their most recent conversation he’d noticed their memories of certain events had become confused. I was about to tell him I wasn’t the least bit surprised, when he added that he’d checked with other townsfolk, including your brother, and they all seemed to have had the same— how’d he put it? ‘The walls of their memory painted over like a childhood bedroom converted to a study.’”

”That sounds like Wally, all right.”

”Eventually he got round to explaining why he’d come to me. The message that had prompted him to call home was from Lucy; she said she’d shot a suspect who was attacking your brother Frank. She’d also mentioned some FBI agents arriving a few minutes later.”

Harry swallowed. He tried to imagine Lucy shooting anyone:

“Frank never said anything about this.”

“And when Wally called home, Andy and Lucy not only denied it had happened, they had no idea what he was talking about, not that I’d guess that to be an unusual state of affairs. Anyway, after I sent your godson away, I began to have contradictory memories myself of what Cooper had told me about the case. I remembered the poker chip after waking in the middle of the night from the worst dreams I’d had since medical school. I’ve been telling myself it was a false memory, maybe a composite of all the young female murder victims I’ve had to examine in my career, but I told myself I’d make one more phone call, just to check. And now you confirm it. Also, in my recall you knocked me across Leo Johnson’s body. Thanks for the correction. Are you still there?”

“Yes,” Harry answered, glad he was already sitting on his bed.

“Now that that’s established,” said Albert’s voice on the other end of the phone: “here’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question: when do you remember Agent Cooper disappearing?”

“March 1989.” Harry tried to keep his voice steady, as though he was giving evidence in court. He briefly explained about the Black Lodge and Coop’s reappearance and unsettling behaviour and how he’d checked himself out of the hospital and was never heard from again. There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. “Are you still there, Albert?”

“According to FBI records and, up until two days ago, my own memories: Coop disappeared this past October while driving to Odessa, Texas for a case. The last record of him was a credit-card charge at a motel just outside the city.”

“What was he investigating in Odessa?”

“Missing person. I’ve tried looking into that case, but it seems to be a dead end, especially since Coop never seems to have arrived at the diner where the man he was looking for had allegedly been running drugs.”

“Sounds like the kind of establishment where nobody’d admit anything. Maybe Coop did get to the diner.”

“Gee, you’ve cracked it Sheriff, we would never have thought of that. The diner was old-school, but not so old-school they didn’t have a security camera trained on the front counter. We went over three days worth of footage. I admit we can’t be sure he didn’t slip in through the back for some reason; but you knew Coop— can you honestly picture him entering a diner and not ordering a coffee?”

“Not the Coop I knew, but— I already told you he was acting pretty erratically just before he took off.”

Harry heard Albert sigh.

“I’ve been checking with a few of my colleagues who were involved in the original Palmer investigation. I think Gordon knows something, but being Gordon he’s saying nothing, and as loudly as possible. Denise— Director Bryson, now— remembers the unofficial version, and according to her so does Agent Preston— oh right, you never met Agent Tammy Preston, the poker-faced glamazon computer hacker— I’m not sure she was even born yet in 1989, but she was on a case in Twin Peaks in October 2016, and during the course of the subsequent paperwork, she started noticing a lot of records and statements didn’t match up, and then she realized her own memories didn’t match up. Which brings up another problem with trying to reason this out by conventional methods: something in that Salem’s Pacific-Northwest Lot of yours is rewriting memories, documents, maybe the facts themselves. But so far it’s predominantly affected the people who were on the spot this past October.” Albert’s voice rasped a little from the long phone call, and he paused to clear his throat. “Unfortunately, that also means the people most likely to remember the original version of events are people who weren’t in the Sheriff’s Office during the incident that seems to have triggered the change. At the risk of sounding like one of those bullshit shows on the History Channel, we may never know exactly what happened that night.”

“Wait, what even was the case that brought you all back in 2016?”

“That’s the problem— I’m one of the people who was there, and I only have vague and disconnected memories of a British man with a gardening glove, the chorus of Guys and Dolls, Agent Cooper leaving the room with Diane, his secretary who quit the FBI decades ago, and Gordon, and only Gordon coming back.” Albert paused again. “It goes against my personal feelings and medical opinions, but would you be willing to let me visit you in person? I’ve some vacation time and enough frequent-flyer miles that the trip will probably cost less than the long-distance charges if we continue this conversation.”

Harry opened the drawer of his bedside table and took out the key to Coop’s old hotel room:

“Yeah, come by.”

“Diane, I am currently alone. I realize that statement implies that I’m not always alone here, and indeed I sometimes have a companion, who I still think of as Laura Palmer, though I don’t know if that’s her identity anymore; I’d hoped, after my last attempt, that Laura would no longer be in this place at all. She comes and goes, or perhaps we both come and go and our orbits occasionally intersect. I’ve tried to find some pattern to it, but with no reliable way to measure time, I’ve had little success.

The last time we met she told me about a room she hadn’t seen before, all white walls, in which a dark-haired woman was contemplating a mirror with a puzzled look. I can’t help but feel this parallels my own situation.”

“Frank sent me this last month. But when I thanked him the next time he called, he didn’t seem to know what I was talking about.” Albert hesitated before taking the room key:

“Great Northern Hotel,” he read, turning it over. “Twin Peaks. Isn’t the front desk going to want this back?”

“Unless I miss my guess, it’s from 1989 when Coop was staying there.”

Albert’s ears stuck out more noticeably, or perhaps it was his face that was thinner. He’d spent the first part of his visit scrutinizing Harry and questioning him about his case and what the doctors were doing for it, until Harry told him to quit it or he’d run out of time to discuss Coop’s disappearance before visiting hours ended, and anyway weren’t Albert’s patients usually dead to begin with?

The trouble with the subsequent discussion was that it went in a circle— the people who’d been present for the 2016 Unknown Event had uncertain memories of what had actually happened; and the people who clearly recalled the 1989 Palmer case as a murder hadn’t been present for the Unknown Event. The one thing that seemed likely was that there was some connection between the 1989 case and the 2016 case, particularly since both had been followed by the unsolved disappearance of one Agent Dale Cooper.

“I hate to say it, Albert, but I’ve given up hope on ever finding Coop.”

“What’s hope got to do with it?” Albert asked. His tone was not sarcastic.

“Diane, I’ve decided that, if only to keep my mind occupied, I will go looking for the white room and the woman with the mirror. I’d feel happier if I had a ball of twine or some breadcrumbs to leave as a trail back to the waiting room, but I’m coming to terms with the idea that’s there’s no advantage to remaining or returning here— it’s not as if I need food or drink in this place, and I cannot be any more lost than I already am.

So far, I believe I’ve walked down five identical red-curtained hallways, and turned left five times. It therefore seems likely that I’m following a counterclockwise, roughly spiral path, although I’m uncertain if I’m proceeding inwards or outwards.”

“If this search is going to require juggling two sets of memories, then I’d better come along so you don’t get brainwashed again.”

“Sheriff Truman, if you haven’t noticed by now, you’re in a cancer hospice.”

“I just finished a round of treatments, I’ve got a couple of weeks free.” Albert snorted and Harry added: “You can monitor my health while we’re on the road.”

“I’m already thinking of your health. You’re immunocompromised, travel is too risky.”

“We’re crossing a few state lines, not going to the other side of the world.”

Albert pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine. I’m driving. Which also means I get to choose the music.”

In fact, they went most of the way by plane, after Albert weighed the odds and decided five hours in a tube of recycled air would still be easier on Harry than a two-day road trip. Some of the passengers threw suspicious looks at Harry’s N95 mask, but they’d cleared it in advance with the airline, and Harry had briefly removed it when he went through TSA, and Albert was prepared to flash his FBI badge, but the flight crew were understanding.

They picked up a car at Midland International. Someone, presumably an employee of the car-rental company, had left a bundle of tourist-attraction pamphlets on the front passenger seat.

“According to these, Odessa has replicas of the Globe Theatre and Stonehenge,” Harry observed once he’d got himself settled.

“Why?” Albert asked.

“Got me there. The pamphlets don’t explain the motivation.”

Albert reached up and pulled down the car’s sunshade on Harry’s side, though the Sheriff insisted his cowboy hat was protection enough for his pale scalp:

“We’re not in the northwest where it rains every fifteen minutes,” he muttered, “and I’ve been looking up the side effects of your meds— you sunburn easily now.” Albert’s driving skirted the city, and they did not pass the Globe or Stonehenge.

The Pearblossom Motel, last recorded location of Agent Cooper, proved to be closed down. They’d noticed the papered-over windows as they pulled up, the sign unlit, not even to say NO VACANCY, but Albert got out to knock anyway. Harry watched him from the car; eventually he clambered out and slowly walked over to join him.

Albert was peering through a spot where the paper had torn away behind the window-glass. He stepped aside for Harry, and the sheriff took a look into the motel’s dim interior. He saw an ordinary, rather old-fashioned registration office, wood-grain panelling on the walls along with a few faded posters for local attractions. Rows of keys still hung on a board behind the desk, and a daily calendar read October 15, presumably the date the motel had closed, or the approximate date— Harry could imagine a concierge might not bother to keep tearing off the pages if they knew it was their last week on the job.

“I now realize that despite everything, I’ve still been harbouring hopes of finding my way back to the waiting room, hence my continual choosing of left-hand turns, as if attempting to mathematically navigate a maze. I must make a true leap of faith if intuition is to guide me, so I’ve closed my eyes and spun around several times in this corridor, first clockwise and then counterclockwise.

Now that I no longer can tell which direction I’ve come from… Diane, can you hear that? Of course you can’t, I don’t really have my tape recorder. I’m going to fall silent and listen for a bit.”

There seemed little else of interest at the motel (Harry, feeling a bit silly, had even tried the Great Northern’s room key on all the doors), so they turned back towards Odessa to look for the diner Cooper had been investigating. The motel was only a mile behind when they saw, ahead of them, a tall woman walking along the highway, her fire-engine-red hair, black t-shirt and pencil skirt out of place in a locale that was rural to the point of emptiness. Albert swore under his breath.

“This can’t be a coincidence,” he told Harry. “Roll down your window, I’m pulling over.” But the woman only threw a glance at the car as it slowed, flipped them the bird, and kept walking, though she stepped gingerly and Harry noticed she was barefoot on the asphalt. Albert leant across him and stuck his head out the window:

“Diane!”

“Fuck off, guys. I’m not Diane, and whoever she is I bet she’d tell you the same.” Harry gently pushed Albert back and leant out the window himself:

“Sorry, ma’am, mistaken identity. Are you all right though? I see you’ve mislaid your shoes.”

“Looks like somebody ran off with them,” the woman answered, her tone mocking despite the tired set of her shoulders. “I haven’t been up to anything illegal, officer. Just a bit of fooling around.”

“We can give you a ride into town,” Harry offered. “If it helps, you’ll be alone in the back seat— means you can get the drop on us if you start to feel nervous.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at the offer, then abruptly barked out a laugh and opened the back door of the car, took a seat and folded her long legs in after her. “Only because I need a lift,” she insisted, rubbing her bare feet. “I knew office romances were a bad idea, but he didn’t have to be a dick about it. Nothing to do now but go home and drown my sorrows in Hallowe’en candy.”

“You’ve still got candy left over from Hallowe’en?” In the mirror above the dashboard, Harry saw Albert raise an eyebrow and the woman in the back seat frowned, insulted:

“No! I may not have a maternal bone in my body, but I’m not going to give the trick-or-treaters candy that’s a year old.”

“Ma’am,” Harry asked, thinking about the calendar back in the Pearblossom Motel office, “what date d’you think it is?”

“Mid-October,” she began. Harry saw her reach into her purse with her black-and-white nails and pull out a mobile phone. Her eyes widened at the date: “No, it’s March. The fuck?—” She ran a hand through her scarlet hair. Harry wondered if it was dyed or a wig. Perhaps she was bald too. “Must be losing it. I was so sure it was October. And it’s not like I’ve could’ve been wandering around this desert for five months.” She tapped her phone screen. “5,230 messages?!” She looked frightened now, raising her head to meet their gaze in the mirror. “Where the hell have I been? And you guys— you’re feds, aren’t you?”

“No,” Harry began.

“I am,” said Albert. “He’s not.”

“Well, can you tell me what’s going on? Or is it classified? God, it’s not aliens, is it? I always assumed alien conspiracies were bullshit to cover up real conspiracies.”

“It’s probably not aliens,” Harry answered, unable to keep doubt from his voice as he remembered Major Briggs, “but I afraid it’s not going to sound any less weird.”

“To start with, we’re in the area investigating a colleague who disappeared in October,” began Albert, “and then you turn up, apparently amnesiac since that date.”

“And with my messages unchecked since then.”

“Yes, but there’s another detail— you look exactly like a former colleague of mine who was close to our missing man. That’s why I called you Diane when I slowed down.”

“I need a smoke.”

“No.”

“Albert,” Harry interrupted, “I’ve already got cancer, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“Do you want me to answer that in detail?”

“No I don’t.” Harry turned to look over his shoulder at the woman in the back: “Just roll down your window first.”

“We’ll pull over and she can step away from the car,” said Albert.

He stopped on a shoulder, and their passenger got out and lit a cigarette. Examining the packet, she called to them:

“Three left. That’s fewer than I remember having on me in October, but not by much.” Albert, meanwhile, had pulled a shopping bag from the back seat:

“You should eat something,” he said to Harry, producing a sealed cup of applesauce and a box of plastic spoons. Between rounds of treatment, Harry’s nausea receded, but his appetite was still pretty weak. “There’s saltine crackers, too.” Harry chuckled in spite of himself as he tore the foil off the applesauce:

“This all makes me feel like I’m home from school with the ‘flu.”

“You’ll have to watch Roadrunner cartoons on your own phone, I’m not paying for the data,” Albert snapped.

“I’m surprised we even get reception out here.” The red-haired woman had strolled back to the car with her cigarette, though she took care to stay downwind from Harry’s rolled-down window. “Guys, is it just me or is this highway really deserted— like, Rod-Serling-voiceover deserted?”

“We were just thinking Roadrunner cartoons.”

“Can’t be, there’s no weird rocks.” She flicked ash onto the pavement, “Though it does feel like if someone painted a tunnel entrance on a wall around here, you might be able to drive into it. If you weren’t a coyote.” She took another drag and glanced at the power lines humming above their heads. “Maybe it’s the hum from those wires that’s giving us brain cancer— oh sorry, dude.” She broke off and looked at Harry in apology.

“It’s all right, ma’am,” he said when he’d finished swallowing his mouthful of applesauce. “I’ve got leukaemia, not brain cancer. And the sound from those lines is unpleasant. Like the whine of mosquitoes in the woods.” As he spoke the hum intensified, becoming a loud crackle. Albert glanced up as a shadow fell over the three travellers and their car.

In the sky a dark, nebulous shape twisted, circled, formed a comma or an apostrophe, and dove towards them.

The first few grackles, out of thousands, came down on the roof and hood of the car. Harry could see one pecking at the windscreen and glaring at him with hard yellow eyes. He suddenly remembered Coop had been afraid of birds; until now, he’d never been able to imagine why. He turned and pushed open the back door as the woman dove inside the vehicle. Around them, the flock blotted out the landscape.

“Hope they don’t scratch up the finish,” Albert shouted over the sound of wing-beats, “or I’m not getting my deposit back.”

“Is this nesting season? I mean, are the grackles round here normally this—”

“Oh fuck, one got in!” came a yell from the back seat. Eardrums ringing, Harry turned to see a small black shape ricocheting around the car’s interior as the woman flailed her long, bare arms. The grackle made for the gap between Albert’s seat and headrest.

And got stuck, its beak not quite touching the back of Albert’s neck.

Harry reached for the little feathered body, thinking of how to pin the wings against the bird’s sides to avoid injury to it or the surrounding humans, but the moment his fingers touched it, it crumbled. At the same time the din outside the car ceased.

“That— that’s not natural.” Their passenger was covering her mouth with her hand. Even Albert looked shocked. Harry stared at the palmful of ash that was all that was left of the grackle.

“Let me get a sample bag,” Albert muttered. He pulled out a small clear plastic bag, and held it out while Harry poured the remains in. Then he handed him a packet of wet wipes. “You all right, Diane?” The woman in the back seat did not correct him on the name this time.

“Couple of scratches,” she said, examining her right arm. Albert passed her a mini first-aid kit. Got to give him his dues, he prepares for everything, thought Harry, adjusting the brim of his cowboy hat.

“Y’know,” he said, “This could be a good sign. In that it’s any kind of sign. There’s nothing worse than working in the dark, waiting for some hint you’re getting warmer or colder— that’s the kind of thing makes you wonder if the thing you’re looking for is even out there at all. But this—”

“Someone tipped their hand, you mean, when they tried throwing a Hitchcock movie in our faces,” Albert cut in. “But what exactly did we do to worry them?” His glance, and Harry’s, moved to the dashboard mirror’s reflection of their passenger.

“You think the birds were after me, or wanted to break up our merry band?” She raised an eyebrow. “Trouble is I know a token effort when I see one.”

“Or a warning.”

“We found the Pearblossom Motel;” Harry thought he saw the woman flinch at the name. “And then left it, to head for Odessa.”

“Are you suggesting we drive around in circles and see if they attack again?” Albert muttered.

“I think that’d be a little unfair to our passenger.” Harry turned to her: “Ma’am, I believe Albert when he says he knows you; but I also believe you when you say you don’t remember him. We can drop you anywhere you like— your call.”

“Give me a few minutes, fellas. Given all the weird shit I’ve just been through, I’ve got to think about whether I’m safer away from you two, or sticking close by. Plus I’ve got messages to check.” She took her phone out again. Without taking his eyes off the road, Albert pulled his own phone from his suit jacket, passing it to Harry:

“You’d better check mine. Maybe Tammy’s got some news—she’s been looking up everyone connected with events in Twin Peaks, but not living in the area. She even emailed some couple in Japan, though I’m still not sure what they’ve got to do with this.”

Harry peered at Albert’s phone screen, occasionally commenting if something looked to be of interest:

“Gordon’s sent a grudging OK, tells you to be careful. Also tells you to look after me. I’d always imagined he’d type in uppercase— didn’t realize it was him at first. Hm. Do you know a coroner?”

“I know lots of coroners, we get together for an annual poker tournament and lucky draw. And when I say draw…”

“Do you know a Dr. Talbot in Buckhorn?” Harry interrupted. “Autopsied a headless body last September that turned out to be Major— wait, he— is this one of those revised timeline things?”

“Not exactly.” Albert brought Harry up to date as best he could on Major Briggs’ disappearance and decades-later reappearance. “I certainly remember meeting Constance,” he added, after a pause, and cleared his throat again. “According to Tammy, I made a favourable impression on her, which is… unusual among my acquaintances, even those who share my profession. So what does she have to say?”

“Something about a wedding ring and Schrödinger’s Cat?” Harry looked at the message again. “She says Tammy spoke to her, and was going to contact you too… a gold ring they found on Briggs… sorry, in Briggs… keeps disappearing from her office’s records and the FBI’s evidence files, then coming back again?”

Albert frowned in thought as he drove: “Does it have anything engraved on it?” Harry tapped a message on the phone screen, CC-ing Constance and Tammy.

Outside the car, suburbs, or at least car dealerships and big-box stores, were beginning to sprout up along the highway.

Albert’s phone pinged and Harry read the message from Constance:

“Yes, scribbled it down last time I could find the record. This ring any (wedding) bells? TO DOUGIE, WITH LOVE, JANEY-E”

“Janey-E,” said Diane from the back seat, and Harry heard her drop her phone. Turning around he saw her wringing her hands, the nails now robin’s-egg blue. “Albert,” she gasped, “Oh, Albert, I was almost lost again.”

“I believe the change in method may have led to a breakthrough: I haven’t found any rooms leading off of the corridor I’m following, but the decor has gradually changed from black-and-white flooring and red curtains, to dark brown linoleum flooring and institutional green walls hung with large relief maps of different parts of the world. The maps appear to have been manufactured some time between 1954 and 1965, as they show North and South Vietnam as separate nations. I’m just passing the continent of Antarctica, now, and… oh. I think there might be…

Diane, I found the white room, and when I call it that, I’m not simply echoing Laura’s name for it. It was like a cross between a sanatorium and a snow cave, if a snow cave had furniture. There was a bed with white blankets and a white metal frame like a hospital bed. Audrey was sitting on one end of it, wrapped in a white bathrobe and looking at a round mirror that stood on a little white table. She turned as I entered, and her face was older, drawn and, for a moment, frightened. Then she looked at me again and relaxed, saying ‘Oh, it’s really you.’ I fear she must have met one of my nastier doppelgängers at some point.”

At Diane’s request, they stopped to eat at a fast-food chain before approaching the diner Coop had been investigating in at least one timeline.

“I’m hungry, but I’d be too nervous to eat at the place where Dale might have… well, if they’re a front for something, then the food’s either spectacular or terrible, and I’m not feeling lucky right now. I want to be someplace as bland and mundane as possible for a while, so I can regroup.”

“Well this place has a twenty-minute limit.” Albert jerked his thumb at the sign.

“That’ll do.” Diane curled up beside Harry in the booth as Albert went up to the counter to place their orders. She still wore her pencil skirt, but on on of their stops she’d purchased tennis shoes and a couple of fresh t-shirts— the one she was wearing at the moment read NOT TODAY in flowery letters. “Now he’s got two of us to worry about,” she said under her breath. Harry decided to reply:

“Someone needs to worry about him.” Diane nodded, and Harry offered his hand: “Sorry, we never did the proper introductions did we? Harry S. Truman.”

“I know.” Her expression relaxed slightly. “I see why he likes you.”

“Not sure Albert likes anybody, exactly—”

“That’s not who I was talking about.”

Albert returned with a eye-searingly-orange plastic tray:

“Mushroom burger, cheeseburger, buttered biscuit for you, Harry, because they can’t just serve toast like a real restaurant and those things they claim are bagels are made out of lies.”

“Don’t worry Albert, I’ll survive a biscuit.” Harry picked up one half of the baked item and took a bite. It wasn’t too bad, actually.

“Diane, the ring that jogged your memory—”

“My half-sister and her husband. Don’t ask me how they’d be mixed up in this though, Janey-E’s aggressively normal.”

“And her husband?”

“Never actually met him. Janey-E and I don’t talk much,” she explained. “But from her comments he’s… passively normal. Works for an insurance company, drinks too much sometimes, the whole man-in-the-gray-flannel-suit thing.”

“I’ve been talking with Audrey, or the version of her that existed in the white room. You’ll notice I use the past tense. Still sitting on the bed, she raised a finger and pointed to the mirror in front of her, saying:

‘The other me— she ran away from home, like she thought Laura had done. I’m amazed she survived her first year in the big city, but look:’

Diane, I saw Audrey searching records online, tailing suspects, testifying in civil and sometimes criminal courts. It’s a life that can make a cynic of the kindest soul, but there are situations the police don’t or can’t investigate, and those were— are, I suppose— Audrey’s bread and butter, in that mirror world. And they seem to pay well enough she can afford to do some pro bono cases.

‘I wish I were out there,’ she said, and the mirror clouded and shifted. She patted the bedspread, and I sat down beside her. ‘You know how,’ she began, ‘when you’re a kid, and you’re reading your favourite book, and a little after the halfway point, you start to think ‘I’m getting near the end of the book?’ And really, you’re not— there are pages and pages left of scenes and pictures. You’re always surprised just how much more there is. But it’s not enough to shake the feeling it’s putting off the inevitable. Dawdling before bedtime.’ She stood up suddenly, bent and kissed me on the brow. ‘Say hello to the other me, if you ever run into her.’ And then she was gone, Diane. Not in flame or fadeout, just gone.”

I look up, and Laura is beside me.

The diner, when they found it, was not what Harry’d pictured. Instead of a lonely Edward Hopper tableau, or a grimy spoon where toughs whispered to each other along the lunch counter and cast knowing glances in the direction of the men’s room, “Wispy Dreams Cafe” was a blandly cheerful donut shop, the logo rather obviously altered from that of a national chain.

“Looks like they’re under new management.” Diane observed as they got out of the car. “Or else they got tired of paying for the franchise?” The three of them made their way across the parking lot the cafe shared with the landscaping company next door. Inside, the sound of chattering customers and a hum from the coffee machine both soothed and overwhelmed. Harry steadied himself against a gleaming, cream-colored formica counter. The woman on the other side— not a fresh-faced high-school senior or a kindly-faced matron, just a woman with her hair in a ponytail and circles under her eyes, doing her best to smile— threw him a glance and Harry nodded.

“I’m ok. Albert, Diane, what do you two want?”

A couple of minutes later, they sat by the window, feigning interest in their donuts and coffee.

“Well, we’re living the cop cliché,” whispered Albert. “So, what do you think? Soulless suburban hangout, or den of villainy?”

Harry gingerly sipped the brew in his cardboard cup and eyed the other customers. You couldn’t say the place wasn’t busy; the woman at the counter had already served a family of four in the time it had taken Harry, Albert and Diane to seat themselves with their coffees, and another customer had just come in the door.

“That counter’s been installed recently. Deep-fat fryer’s been replaced too.”

“And they don’t know how to use it yet. You could wax skis with these donuts. That’s hardly a crime, though.” Diane looked around at the blue and yellow walls painted with large trompe l’oeil sprinkles. “Doesn’t seem to be anything else funny about the place— I hate to say it but this place might be legit.”

Harry watched the new customer lean in to the counter. Harry couldn’t quite make out what he was saying— presumably the man was placing his order, but it seemed to be taking a while and there was something tense in the woman’s expression. Beside him he heard Diane swear under her breath, and faster than he could turn his head, his peripheral vision took in that she was getting up. She strode towards the counter and Harry had a glimpse of the angry red scratch on her arm as he struggled to his feet.

Diane was leaning on the counter now, trying to insert herself between the customer and the worker.

“What did you just say to her?” she was asking.

“Look, I come in here all the time, we joke around. What makes you think it’s your fucking business?”

“What seems to be the trouble?” Harry loomed up behind the customer— he might have only half his usual strength but he was still a good six inches taller than the other man. Behind him, he guessed, Albert was approaching. Harry knew the agent was unwilling to use physical force and not exactly skilled at defusing situations through diplomacy, so he turned his gaze on the customer with all the quiet confidence he’d used as Sheriff. In his ear Diane hissed:

“It’s nothing to do with the case, this asshole’s just creeping on the staff.” She must’ve locked eyes with the man too, for he was staring at her now, his bland pink features shifting expression from anger to terrified fascination.

Rather an unimpressive face, thought Harry, and then, what’s Diane doing? He turned to look at her sharp, smiling profile, and saw a tear slide from her eye.

“No,” she said loudly and abruptly, and blinked hard. “Do you want us to escort him out?” she asked the woman behind the counter; but the man was already out the door and running for his car.

“Diane,” Harry whispered.

“Diane,” whispered Albert. Diane was passing one hand across her eyes.

“I could have fried him. Just now. Something wanted me to; but I just wanted him to back off.” She beamed at them as Albert held out an arm for her to steady herself. “I think I’m back to normal. Well, normal for me.”

“Are we the only two left here now?”

“I’m not even here anymore.”

“I don’t know how to get back to the waiting room.”

“It doesn’t matter, the coffee’s cold.”

Somehow, the white room has become even more featureless, despite that being both a logical and a grammatical impossibility. Only the bed, the table and Audrey’s mirror remain. A moment in the glass catches my eye, and I look to see— oh Diane, I’m so glad you escaped! I see you travelling with Albert, and… oh, Harry…

…the cafe’s fluorescent lights flickered as the background hum, noticeable since their arrival, now rose to an ear-splitting volume then died away just as suddenly. As the three of them looked on, an old-fashioned hospital bed, its steel frame painted white, materialized between the counter and the booths, replacing two unoccupied tables. At one end of it sat Agent Dale Cooper, fully dressed in his suit and tie, a look on his face of mild surprise that turned to the familiar joy as his gaze met theirs. Coop had grown older like the rest of them, sharper angles in his face, but he looked hale and well, and his eyes did not have the cruel gleam that chilled Harry’s memories of their last meeting.

“Harry,” he said, as though a quarter-century hadn’t passed. In response Harry silently doffed his cowboy hat, revealing his pallor, his naked scalp. Coop’s smiled wavered a little. “I’m sorry I was gone so long,” he whispered, and rose from the white bed. In the background, the cafe staff and patrons continued to chat and serve and drink and eat coffee and donuts as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on right in front of them. Albert made a hesitant noise in his throat and Coop raised his hand in that just a moment gesture he always used to make, and in that moment Harry knew his friend really was back from wherever he’d been all those years.

“Apologies for being brusque,” Coop said, “but there’s a family in Las Vegas who I’ve reason to believe are in danger right now—”

“Janey-E?” Diane asked.

“Right on the button. For personal reasons which I’ll explain later, I can’t get in touch with them myself. The Mitchell brothers might be able to help, but I don’t know how much they’ll be able to recall of our last meeting.”

“Tammy and Constance are already on it.”

“Good,” Coop looked relieved, and Harry stepped forward, shaking a little in spite of himself, and as if the motion had at last given him permission, Coop sailed forward and embraced him— very gently, as if he feared Harry might break. He’s gauging by touch how much weight I’ve lost, thought Harry, but it’s all right. He’d forgotten how warm Coop was. He became aware of Albert and Diane joining in, arms circling his shoulders and Coop’s. If I died right here and now, it’d be all right.

But this embrace was not an epitaph, or an epilogue. Outside, somewhere else in the city, was an imitation of an ancient stone monument; and a copy of an old theatre where real audiences watched real actors. Somewhere the forces that had sent the dark cloud of grackles prepared another attack, and somewhere Tammy Preston was moving to protect Janey-E and Dougie Jones. Elsewhere Audrey Horne walked the mean streets and was not herself mean. This was an interlude, but let them have it for a while.

A couple of patrons turned their heads to smile at the reunion going in their midst.

#wonderfulxstrange #@laughingpineapple #twin peaks #@laughingpinecone

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anjuschiffer · 4 years ago

Text

Amira Wayne - Chapter 4

I’m running out of pre-written chapters :’D

Day 4 of @biodad-bruce-month event!

Chapter 4: Habits

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan

Tag: @vixen-uchiha @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

School wasn’t the same without Jason around.

The ride to school was silent, the rain falling that morning didn’t help. If anything, it only made Amira feel colder.

Walking the halls without him by his side was torture, Amira missing his banter over the latest book he was reading. Their banter of the pronunciation of a word they were learning in spanish class. How did she ever deal with the solitude and whispers behind her back when she used to be by herself?

Gym class was terrifying, Amira finding herself leaning against the wall as everyone else got into groups to play dodgeball. Some groups avoided her gaze while some looked at her and sneered. That’s right. Amira only played with Jason since he never held back simply because she was a girl. He was the only one who treated her as an equal. He was the only one who was willing to pair with her, no one else never daring to approach them.

All her other classes seemed to go the same way, finding herself alone and in a corner of the room or isolated from the groups formed during science.

Lunch was something she never knew she would dread. It felt like everyone watched her every move. That she was judged with each step she took. No longer being able to bear the torture, Amira ran to the school library, ignoring the looks she got as she ran there.

Slumping into a lone cubicle on the second floor of the library, Amira looked around. There was no one else there, only a librarian at the front desk.

She took out her workbook, deciding to do something with her uneasy mind. And if anything, she could stay here until the school day ended. Father would understand.

She didn’t know how long she had been there, how engrossed she was with her work until she got a tap on the shoulder. Amira quickly grabbed the hand, bending a finger back.

“A..mira, it’s me. Dick.” She quickly let go, averting her gaze from him.

“Dick? How did you find me?” Amira asked, dumping her things into her bag. “And sorry.”

“It’s alright. And the dismissal bell rang half an hour ago. As to how I found you, a classmate of yours saw you run out of the school lunchroom. Said I might find you here.” Dick explained, soothing his finger.

Richard watched as Amira averted her gaze, Richard noticing her digging her nails into her palm. “Amira, you alright?” When she didn’t respond, he sighed. “Sorry, that was stupid of me to ask.”

He didn’t expect Amira to hold his hand, her grasp tight.

“He’s gone forever, isn’t he?” Richard heard her voice crack, watching a tear slip down her face. “He won’t ever come back, right?”

Dick quickly brought her closer to him, letting her cry into his uniform. He stood there quietly, patting her head as she continued to cry. “Don’t leave me alone either Richard! Don’t leave me! Don’t go!”

“I will try, Amira. I will try.”

When Amira asked Dick to never leave her, she didn’t mean this.

During the evening, Dick would help Amira with her homework or if he was in a patrol, he would talk to her through the comms.

During the short weekend, he would take her out to go shopping, of course, with Alfred accompanying them.

Then came the school week.

That Monday morning, Dick patted her head before the two headed to their respective classrooms, some of the girls in her class asking how she knew him. Turns out that despite the clear age gap (and being in different buildings), some of her classmates were captivated by his charm.

What did Jason call it? Charisma? She forgot.

During lunch, Dick barged into the lunchroom and found her, dragging her to his classroom where he would introduce her to his friends, as in, his entire class.

“This is Marinette! She’s a very close friend of mine! Practically my sister from other parents!” Dick said with a grin, ruffling Amira’s hair as he did so.

The girls in his class cooed, buttering Amira in hopes of gaining her brother’s favor.

“Guys, leave the poor girl alone. She needs her space.” A girl sitting away from the group said, Amira looking to see who it was. She didn’t realize she was staring until the girl beckoned her to come closer. “Hi, name’s Barbara Gordon. What’s yours?”

“Marinette.” Amira said. “Marinette Dupain. I’m part of the middle school wing, grade 7.”

“Dupain? Like the bakery-”

“Yes!” Amira said, quickly rambling about the bakery, not noticing how Dick smiled as he watched her lighten up.

Maybe he should bring her over more often.

The next few days were definitely different for Amira.

Out of school, Amira would be joining Dick at the Cave, learning a few basic gymnast skills. Learning flips and other tricks were exhilarating, Amira absorbing the new skills easily.

Sometimes, some of Dick’s friends would join in, Amira quickly taking a liking to Wally out of three of them, no offense to Garth and Vic. Perhaps because Wally was the one who made sure to make her feel included that caused Amira to grow a soft spot for him. Whenever he would come over, Amira always made sure to have cookies ready for him.

She enjoyed the smile that would radiate off him, Amira always looking forward towards his next visit.

At school, Amira would go over to Dick’s classroom to talk with Babs during lunch.

(That was Amira’s name for her, although she didn’t dare to call Barbara by that nickname. They weren’t exactly close friends...yet.)

She adored talking to Babs about the latest pastry or about Babs’ father’s latest case. (Amira found it hilarious that their dads respected each other both in and out of work.)

It’s been a solid month since she began merging into this new routine, Amira practically skipping as she made her way to see Babs. Just as she was about to make her way inside, she was quickly pulled back, Amira now face to face with a kid...her age? But one thing was for certain, she had seen him before...but where? Surely she would remember a kid that carried a portable camera-

Timothy Jackson Drake. The Drakes only son...only child.

The only reason she remembered him was due to the newspaper she found on the dining table her father left behind that morning. Something about his mother was the headline of the paper.

“You’re Marinette, right?” He asked her, Amira wondering what he wanted with her. This was the first time both children ever spoke to each other.

“I am. Do I-”

“Name’s Tim -Tim Drake- from the elementary wing, grade 5. Anyways, I’ve been wanting to ask you something. Where’s Jason?” He asked, Amira feeling her heart drop. “I’ve noticed that-”

Amira knew that the boy kept talking about something, but she didn’t know what exactly.

Jason’s name just kept echoing within her head, Amira’s head replaying the past month in her mind.

How did she forget about Jason? Why did she forget about Jason? How dare she forget him?!

“-Mimi! Mimi, please, listen to me!” Amira registered a voice, a voice she always heard. “Amira, please, talk to me!” It was big brother.

Amira looked at Dick, his eyes wide with panic, Amira registering the tears that dared to slip from him.

Without another word, Amira hugged him, her grasp on his school jacket tightening as her mind slipped back to Jason.

“I didn’t mean to forget him! I didn’t mean to! I swear!” Amira sobbed, hating that she was breaking down at school, hating that everyone saw her at her most vulnerable point. Hating herself for forgetting Jason. “He probably hates me for forgetting about him. He hates me…”

“It’s alright Amira. It’s alright.” She heard Dick whisper to her, watching as the two left the school grounds. “He would never hate you Amira. He loved you too much to ever gate you.” Dick reassured.

That was the last time Amira ever saw Gotham Academy.

Ever since Amira broke down at school, she remained cooped up in her room, not letting anyone enter it, not even Alfred.

Dick had tried to coax her to come out by telling her that Wally had come over to talk to her, but Amira didn’t budge from her room.

Not until Bruce asked her to come to his study to talk.

“Did you want to speak to me, Father?” Amira asked, closing the door behind her.

She knew why she was there. She knew why her father called her to his study.

After all, it wasn’t that easy to create a cover story of why Dick and Amira came home while school was still in session. It was especially hard when the school called Bruce, asking about the whereabouts of the two of them.

“Amira. Take a seat.” Bruce said as he motioned to the open space in front of him. It’s been a while since she had been at her father's study, noticing the new window seats. They weren’t there the last time she stepped foot into his study. Then again, the last time she did was when…

Now that she thought about it, Amira couldn’t help but look at her father.

Despite the dim lightning of the study, Amira could easily see the worn out features on her father. His eyes were shrouded in darkness, circles deeper than ever, the bags under his eyes darker than before.

The corners of his eyes were red and tired, her father’s lips now forever in a frown.

How could she forget? How stupid was she to think that she was the only one suffering when clearly, her father was too? What about Dick then? Was he also-? And Alfred...

Amira shook the thought from her mind, deciding to pile up the cushions into a corner and taking a seat, letting her back lightly touch the pile. It was only then that she noticed her old Batman plushie.

“I thought...I thought this was thrown out.” Amira said, picking up the old thing, the colors faded, Amira running her fingers over the stitched up arm.

“It was, until I asked Alfred if I could keep it.” Bruce said, letting a sigh leave him. “Sometimes, it's hard to let go of the past.” Amira remained silent, letting her head hang. So this is why he called her to his study.

Amira listened as her father drifted to his memories of when he ventured the world. Of how he met her mother. (That was the first time he actually talked about her to Amira. Sure, he would mention her mother’s small quirks, but Father never told her stories about her.) Of how he met Amira...as an infant.

How Bruce kept making mistake after mistake, wanting to give up various times as he found himself lost. How he thought he wasn’t enough to help raise Amira, that he wasn’t fit for the job.

How he found his efforts finally being rewarded in the shape of Amira growing into the girl she was now. For Dick finally being able to flourish despite his parents’ death. How Jason was able to have a better life once Bruce took him in.

“Where did I go wrong?” Bruce asked, looking out the window. “What did I do that caused-“

“You did nothing wrong.” Amira reassured. “You did nothing wrong Dad. If anything, you always did your best to make sure we were fed, clothed...safe. We couldn’t have asked for a better father.”

Amira sat there in silence for what seemed like minutes before Bruce looked at her.

“But clearly, that wasn’t enough.” Bruce said, getting up from his seat. “I’m sending you to Paris.”

#maribat #b!dbwm2020 #bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #bio!dadbrucewaynemonth2020

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imonthinice · 3 years ago

Text

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 9/?

Word Count: 1.7k

Author’s Note: Y/N- Your Name, A/N - Any Name (Your Best Friend’s Name)

I am sorry. lmao.

Half of my links are glitched tf out fuck this shit, touched grass yesterday but that grind don’t fuckin stop babey

Warnings: Angst - Injury, Description of said injury, Mentions of Jason’s past, Swearing, Dark Themes, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Jason clutched his right side as he gasped for a long breath of the cold, rainy air surrounding him. Everything hurt and he could barely move enough to text Dick that he was down. He would hold and add pressure to the stab wound sitting directly on his waist, but he could feel the blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers as he held it. His hands were covered by the blood and he was losing it fast.

He wasn’t going to walk this off by any means, he was going to need Dick to go get him and bring him back to the hospital wing of the Batcave because he couldn’t move and he felt his eyes drooping as he waiting and tried to keep his breathing in check, while Dick was scrambling to go get him.

There would be a few questions he would have to answer to Y/N. Not even just Y/N, to Lian, his Goddaughter, who he was planning on seeing in the morning since Y/N was going to a dance competition, or at least he thought she was.

But in that moment, so many memories flew back into his head, the hopelessness as he sat there for a few seconds, bleeding out after the explosion that Joker had set off on him. And then the minutes in the Lazarus Pit as he drowned himself back to life, the water filling his lungs as he cried and screamed. But no one came.

This time, however, Dick came.

Dick swooped his baby brother up and onto his back and he tried to run to the Batmobile as fast as he could, knowing time was of the essence for saving Jason’s life. Jason had broke off from Dick for a few seconds before this moment, and it was the only thing Dick was worried about. That Dick had said to come back to him, alive.

In the car, Dick put his hands on Jason's gaping wound, trying to press his hands into it as well to slow the bleeding, the Batmobile had the ability to drive itself, and Dick thanked whatever God was watching that it did. Jason was struggling for breath at this moment, and Dick was terrified.

“You’re going to be oaky, Jase. I swear. Please. Don’t die on me, it feels like yesterday that I got you back,” he leaned into Jason’s face, “Not again, please,” Dick begged and begged as he rushed Jason to Alfred, who was waiting to operate on Jason.

--------------------------------------------

Y/N woke up as always, this time, without a text from Jason. She thought nothing of it, thinking he was safe in his house with his loving family. She went to go get coffee to kick start her day, and A/N wasn’t in the kitchen. She, still, thought nothing of it, since A/N’s lover was over the night before and she had to turn up her music to ignore the sounds coming from the other side of the house. She sent Jason a quick text,

Good morning, Jay. I hope you slept well.

And she returned to her room, coffee in hand, to write some quick little stories about what she had placed in her journal. Not many of the ideas in there were able to be built off of, but she still tried her best with every idea she had, to see if it could be something more.

It normally never was, but it was always something she craved. The ideas of writing a book always enticed her, but she never thought she was talented enough to do so.

She heard her roommate’s door open and then the front door as A/N waved off her lover. It was a quiet Saturday morning, and Y/N loved that as she dove further and further into her work, immersing herself in the story of two lovers who were destined to meet after one moved to the hometown of the other to pursue criminal psychology.

She couldn’t get her mind off of Jason. They hadn’t even known each other for a week but she knew he was worth her time. A few hours passed by from when she sent the first text.

---------------------------------------------

Dick held Jason’s hand as he was hooked up to many different machines, he could breathe on his own, but the IV and the blood bags were hard to keep Dick’s eyes off of. If only I had been watching a little closer, he thought.

Jason fumbled in his pain-induced sleep, moaning and groaning as he did so when he opened his eyes to find a worried, sleep-deprived and very rough-looking Dick at his bedside, to which, Dick collapsed on Jason in a hug.

“Thank God,” Dick breathed.

“What... what the fuck.... what the fuck happened?” Jason stuttered, like a blanket of sleep and drugs had limited his mobility and brain function.

“I don’t know, Jase. That’s what I was hoping you’d tell me, but then again, your blood alcohol level was suspicious.”

“I... I didn’t drink... drink that much.”

“No, you didn’t. But you did drink, who was with you?”

“I don’t... know.”

“I think you were roofied so they could get the upper hand on you. You almost died, Jase.”

“Come...c’mere,” Jason managed to say, and when Dick came to him, he moved on of his hands onto Dick’s cheek, “Big... big annoying... big little annoying brother.”

“Shhhhhh, little wing,” Dick comforted his little brother, “You weren’t supposed to grow that much taller than me,” he laughed, “Dickhead,” he laughed again, then sighed, and stepped back from Jason to pace back and forth, he was stressed, “I told Roy-”

“Will.”

“Will, sorry. I told Will that you won’t be able to see Lian today, he asked what happened, he might drop by.”

“He should... shouldn’t have to... see me this... this way,” Jason said, eyes pooling with tears, “No one... should.”

“Don’t know how we’re going to explain this to your little girlfriend.”

“Oh... Man... I like... I like her.”

“I know you do, and that’s an issue when you’re high as a kite in a hospital bed, bleeding out, Jase,” Dick tried to explain, “Especially when she doesn’t know you’re Red Hood, dumbass.”

“Oh,” he said.

“I know, Jase. If it was me and Barbara didn’t know, I wouldn’t know what to do,” he sighed, “Haven’t even met this girl,” he laughed.

“It’s... it’s only been... 5 days,” he stuttered.

“and 3 back-to-back, multiple hour, spanning days, worth of dates. You don’t do that with someone you don’t think should meet your family.”

“You’re... stubborn.”

“And you’re my brother. It doesn’t take blood to exhibit the same traits.”

“The meds... are... are wearing off.”

“Do you need more?”

“Not... yet,” he struggled with his words, “Phone?”

“I mean, yeah I can give you your phone,” Dick said as he went to go unplug and hand Jason his phone, realizing that Y/N had texted Jason he said, “Guess you have someone who wants to know where you are more than Will does.”

“Will cares,” Jason said as he took the phone and read Y/N’s text,

I guess it isn’t morning anymore, huh.

Well that’s on me for texting you at 6 in the morning after I know you’ve been working late.

And I’m going to see my Goddaughter today, so I’ve been sleeping in to preserve energy for her.

Can’t forget that she’s what, 1 year old? Girl must have a lot of energy.

Her name’s Lian, and yeah. She’s a ball of energy.

He said as Lian and her dad, Will, formerly known as Roy, walked into the hospital wing of the Batcave. The secret wasn’t hidden to the little girl yet because she couldn’t remember a lot. But, she sure did recognize her Uncle Jay when she screamed her name.

Will brought his daughter up and put her beside her Uncle, and she cuddled into him, he would hold her back.

“Hey... Will.”

“You look like shit, Jaybird.”

“I feel... feel like shit.”

“You’re also talking slow, bud.”

“Drugs... do that... Will.”

“At least you’re not dead, I have no idea how I’d cope or even explain that to Lian.”

“She... she has your... eyes.”

“She’s growing into my nose too.”

“Your nose... looks like shit... on your face.”

“Okay, dickhead. You’re bedridden but yeah, attack me like you used to, I’ll just pull the plug.”

“Lian... would hate you... you for that,” he groaned as he said it.

“Do you need more drugs? I can tell Dick,” Will asked.

“Yeah... I think-”

“Don’t worry about finishing that, Jaybird. I got you.”

------------------------------------------------------

The wet ground surrounding the house Y/N lived in was a representation of what she considered, the bad things, washing away from her life as she got to know Jason more. She wished they could talk more that day, but she did not want to take away time from him and his Goddaughter. Family matters a lot to Y/N, so a thought like that just seemed selfish for her to think when she knew that little girl needed him.

She didn’t think he got injured or anything from the Office, it was a safer place than the fuckin Wayne Manor hallways. She texted Artemis,

So, you’re Wally’s girlfriend, and Wally is Dick’s best friend? Am I hearing you right?

That’s basically the intertwine we have here, yes.

So once you’re in this family, you’re IN, huh?

Nervous?

Not a chance.

The thrill of flipping off pap hasn’t left you yet?

Does everyone know about that? And yes, it’s still massively fun to do.

Wally says Dick is the only one who doesn’t think its that funny.

Lame.

C’mon now, that’s my best friend, but yeah, that’s pretty fucking lame.

You’re the fun best friend, then. You see the fun in making a fool of the pap.

You know it.

Artemis knew of what happened on patrol between Jason and his unknown attacker. Dick had told Artemis to distract Y/N from wondering why Jason seemed drunk, if he seemed drunk. The extents they went to to hide the fact that they were the vigilantes protecting the city, they didn’t know if she was going to be able to keep the secret.

Jason would talk to her after that message,

That storm last night was terrible.

I wish that we were together when it happened. I hate lightning.

Well, you were in Cali.

Did I not tell you? My competition was cancelled because the entire country is fucked with weather.

Oh. That sucks.

Do you want to spend the night here?

---------------------------------------

Do you want to spend the night here?

Jason stared at that text for a while. He did, he wanted to spend the night with her, but he was in pain, hooked to machines, with obvious wounds and bandages. He couldn’t spend the night with her.

I can’t. I’m in Metropolis with Will and Lian. Can we reschedule?

Of course we can. As long as you make sure we actually get to spend the night together.

He asked Dick in that moment, “How... how long... long til I heal?”

“Depends. You’ll be okay-ish in 5 days, but in 7-10 we have to take out your stitches if you’ve been taking care of them,” he said.

“That... that long? Damn.”

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 4 years ago

Text

In Your Father’s Eyes - fic

Characters: Damian Wayne, Jon Kent, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Lois Lane, Alfred Pennyworth, little bit of Clark Kent and Tim Drake and literally everyone Pairing: jondami Summary: Of all the things and all the experiences they thought Jon and Damian would have, it certainly wasn’t this. But they’re all better for it anyway. A/N: A commission for the lovely @heraldofsong! I hope you enjoy it. :) They asked for a bittersweety fluffy story about the Batfam’s reactions/reminiscing to Jon and Damian having a baby. I chose the middle name ‘Charlotte’ because according to the internet it meant ‘freedom’ or ‘free’ and I felt that described an adult Jon and Damian very well. Barry went with Lois downstairs in case Jon and Damian emerged while she was gone, he could rush her back up. Also, it goes without saying, the Flashes brought Steph, Cass and Kara back from the gift shop the same way. Jon is petrified of holding or even touching the baby sometimes. He eventually gets over that. Some vibes for this fic are ‘Mango Dream’ by Afternoon Bike Ride.

It was a quiet afternoon at the manor. The warm sun peeking through the curtains. Birds chirping outside. The contented crackle of flame in the fireplace as he and Alfred each sat in a recliner reading a book.

Then Tim called.

“Conner and I are on our way to the hospital. Just about there, actually.” He said urgently. “Damian and Jon were taken there by a group of Green Lanterns.”

“What happened?” Bruce demanded, jumping from his chair as quickly as his old bones would allow him. Alfred glanced up from his novel, closing it immediately.

“That’s the thing…I…I’m not sure.” Tim offered. “I’ve already talked to Damian. He said neither of them were really hurt at all. Just that he needs us there. All of us.”

That was enough for Bruce.

Tim said he’d already called the others, and was in the process of sending Bruce the hospital coordinates. As Bruce and Alfred gathered their coats and head to the car, Bruce’s phone pinged again with a text.

I think you might want to bring your credit card.

Bruce rolled his eyes at Tim’s instruction, but checked his wallet anyway.

The hospital wasn’t in Gotham, or Metropolis, but a smaller city in between. A medium-sized research hospital that the League used often. Out of the way, but staffed with the most skilled in the world, and able to keep a secret or two.

Bruce could already see the gaggle of Green Lanterns on the roof as they pulled in to the parking lot. But judging by their relaxed body language, just like Tim had said, there was no emergency.

So what…?

Lois and Barry were in the lobby waiting for them. She smirked when she saw them, crossing her arms.

“What’s happening?” Bruce demanded. “Are the boys alright?”

“Perfect.” Lois let her smirk become a wide grin. There was a giddy shriek from nearby, and Bruce glanced over. It came from the gift shop, where he could see Stephanie holding something up, showing a confused Cass and judgmental Kara. “We were just waiting here for you to take you to the right ward.”

“Well, I must say, judging by everyone’s attitude, I can’t imagine it’s the ICU.” Alfred quipped. Barry laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Nope.” Lois spun away, all but skipping as she led the way. “Barry, you ready to catch him?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “We’re heading to the maternity ward.”

Bruce froze.

“…What?”

Barry was instantly at his shoulder, an arm hovering against his back.

“Ms. Lane…” Alfred said slowly. Laughter from the gift shop again, and now Bruce could see what Stephanie was showing the others – baby clothes.

“Wild, right?” She nodded, urging them both to follow. “But it’s true.”

“Apparently the boys were on a mission with a few of the Lanterns, on some planet.” Barry explained as he gently pushed them along. “This planet has way more advanced in vitro fertilization technology than on Earth. Than in the whole damn Milky Way. But apparently a major part of the fight was in a science lab. And I don’t know if it was from blood from injuries or sweat from exertion or what, but somehow both their DNA got into one of the machines, and literally hours later, a baby was being born.”

“An…alien child?” Alfred asked.

“You’d think that, but no. One-hundred percent Damian and Jon. So, only twenty-five percent alien, Kryptonian, from Jon’s side.” Barry hummed. “It wasn’t like their DNA was being added to an already incubating organism. Its creation came about because their DNA got combined.”

“At least,” Lois interrupted. “As far as we know. That’s why we’re here. They’re getting the baby checked out.”

Suddenly, Tim’s text made sense. “We have…nothing for a baby at the manor. Do…you and Clark have anything from when Jon was born?”

Lois’s grin softened. “Not enough to have everything they’ll need. But enough for the first day or so. Clothes-wise, anyway.”

“They’ll…they’ll have to come stay at the manor.” Bruce turned to Alfred, mind already in hyper drive. “Their…their apartment isn’t big enough. Right?”

“They live in a penthouse, sir, not an apartment.” Alfred smiled. “But I’m sure if you asked they wouldn’t mind coming home for a while. Especially with all the foot traffic of new aunts and uncles that they can surely expect.”

“You already know which room Clark and I are staying in, right, Alfred?” Lois teased.

“Of course, Ms. Lane.” Alfred chuckled. Barry suddenly dashed forward, holding the door open for the three of them. “I’m already devising the floor plans for everyone in my head as we speak.”

And even with the three women in the gift shop, the maternity ward was a madhouse of Supers, Bats and Leaguers alike. Tim was talking with Dinah and Ollie, showing them cribs and mobiles on his phone. Conner was talking with Diana, Donna and the two Wally Wests. Lois was already rejoining Clark, who was speaking with J’onn. Jason had already grabbed Alfred and was gently pulling him towards Koriand’r and Roy.

Barry was stepping up behind him. “Has Dick been…?”

Barry pointed, but it was useless, since Bruce had just spotted him. He was away from the crowds, further down the hall, staring into one of the closed doors, his arms folded across his chest.

Bruce nodded and gave Barry a short grin. Barry gently squeezed his shoulder before disappearing into their friends. Bruce inhaled and slowly walked forward. Everyone immediately gave him passing congratulations, and he smiled softly to each of them in return.

Dick didn’t look at him as he approached, kept just staring into the door. Bruce silently stood next to him, and glanced inside himself.

Damian and Jon stood there, next to a plastic crib. They were in matching teal scrubs that barely hid the few bandages they each had across their bodies. Nothing serious, like everyone had told him so far, but still enough that made his heart beat a little faster.

Jon’s wrist hung over the crib, and Bruce could see tiny fingers clinging to his middle one. His other hand was around Damian’s waist, rubbing calming circles against his hip. His head was up, nodding at whatever the doctor standing across from them and the crib was saying.

Damian, surprisingly, was opposite. His head was down, watching the child. His hand was cupping the baby’s head, stroking gently across its tuft of dark hair.

Bruce couldn’t see any other features on the baby. Its face was blocked by its fat belly and gleefully kicking feet. The hand not latched on to Jon’s waved every so often, where he could see a tube connected.

God, he couldn’t even see it and he adored this child already.

“Can you believe it?” Dick suddenly whispered. Bruce turned his head towards him, but kept his eyes on the door. He heard the baby give a loud squeal. Watched as Jon glanced down and grinned, shaking his captured finger. “Damian’s a dad.”

“So it appears.” Bruce smiled.

“He wasn’t one yesterday. There was no plan for him to be one, yesterday.” Dick continued, practically in awe. “This is…incredible.”

“The universe is an incredible place.” Bruce agreed. “…How long have you been here?”

“About an hour.” Dick admitted. “Damian called me when they hit Earth’s stratosphere.”

“Did you get to see the baby at all?” Bruce asked. In his periphery he saw Dick shake his head.

“They were already in there by the time I got here. Jon came out for a hot second to ask me to bring Lois to the ward when she arrived. But otherwise I haven’t talked to them.” Dick sighed. He shifted nervously from foot to foot. “…It’s almost laughable.”

“What is?”

“Damian’s the first of us to be a dad.” Dick smiled wistfully. “Mr. ‘I-Don’t-Need-Anybody’, Mr. ‘I’m-Not-A-Family-Person’, Mr. ‘Jonathan-and-I-Are-Too-Busy-To-Raise-Children’…and he’s the first of us to have a kid. A biological kid.”

“A biological child conceived and born in hours, from what I was told.” Bruce murmured. He chuckled. “Quite a…peculiar birth. Just like him.”

They lapsed into a silence then, as they continued to watch through the door. They could see both Damian and Jon conversing with the doctor, and suddenly, said doctor was lifting the baby from the crib, taking it out of view. The baby clung to Jon’s finger for as long as it could, even pulling a little as it was pulled away.

Almost immediately, Jon turned to Damian, and the two began to speak softly to each other. Damian’s face looked tired, nervous. Jon’s looked similar, but he smiled anyway, cupping Damian’s face in his hands. Damian clung to his wrists, closing his eyes as he leaned into one of the hands.

“…Do you remember when he was little?” Dick asked softly. “So tough and angry. I’d ruffle his hair and he’d try to cut my arm off.”

“He was a little…prickly.” Bruce smiled warmly. “Focused on nothing but Batman’s mission, and being the best. But you freed him from that viciousness.”

“I had help.” Dick laughed, watching as Jon leaned down and kissed Damian, before the two engulfed each other in an embrace. “Don’t sell yourself so short, old man.”

“Don’t sell yourself short either, Dick.” Bruce bumped his elbow into Dick’s side. “For as much as I loved him at the time anyway, much of his growth was because of you.”

“…Look at him, B.” Dick whispered after a moment. Bruce actually glanced at him now, and saw tears in his eyes. “Look how much he’s grown.”

Bruce put a hand on Dick’s shoulder, gave a squeeze as he glanced back towards the door. Damian was twenty-seven now, Jon twenty-four. Both tall and muscular, though Jon slightly more so, and both perfect mixtures of their parents. Each with their own lives, their own identities, creating their own legacies, their own destinies.

But right now all Bruce could see was the children they were. The friends forced together by their fathers, but almost instantly inseparable. The kids who were stronger than any man, and whose favorite game was to climb a life-sized replica of a tyrannosaurs rex that was nestled in a cave, and eat lunch in its mouth.

Damian said something and Jon laughed. Damian’s eyes lit up and his cheeks turned red as Jon kissed his forehead.

Bruce smiled too.

Friends from childhood. Lovers in adulthood.

And now, fathers.

Clark’s baby was a father. His baby was a father.

“I’m so proud of him.” Dick murmured, voice trembling in joy. “He’s just so happy, Bruce.”

Dick turned away, embarrassingly wiping at his eyes.

“God, don’t let him see me like this.” Dick laughed weakly. “It’ll ruin my chances of being the baby’s godfather.”

“It’s endearing.” Bruce promised, turning to look at him. “If nothing else, it’ll heighten your chances. Besides, you’ll still be its uncle no matter what.” A smirk. “And grandpa, depending on who you ask.”

“Oh god, Bruce no.” Dick laughed, wiping faster at his eyes. “I’m too young to be a grandpa.”

“How do you think I feel?” Bruce asked incredulously. “I just got told by Superman’s wife twenty minutes ago that I’m a grandfather!”

Dick looked over at him, eyes soft, the crinkles around his eyes more noticeable with his smile. “You’ll be a great one, Bruce. The very bes-”

There was the sound of a doorknob turning, a latch unhooking. Dick and Bruce both spun back around towards the door to the exam room to find it opening.

Suddenly, the whole hallway was silent, save for a light whooshing, electric noise. Clark was there instantly, Lois in his arms. Conner appeared with Tim, Jason was just finishing pushing his and Alfred’s way through the Justice Leaguers, and the Flashes were each dutifully helping Stephanie, Cassandra and Kara to their feet.

They all waited with baited breath.

It was Jon who was opening the door, and held it open for Damian to walk through. Damian, who had a swaddled bundle tight in his arms, stepped tentatively into the hallway. As soon as he was through the threshold, Jon was at his side, a protective arm around his back.

When Damian glanced up with his wide, shocked eyes – he looked at Bruce first. Then Clark, then Lois, then finally landed on Dick.

“I…” He croaked. Closed his mouth, cleared his throat. Let himself smile slightly as he returned his gaze to Bruce. “We…we have a daughter.”

He turned the baby outwards slightly. Her eyes were closed, but skin was the perfect mixture of Damian’s tan tones, and Jon’s pale colors. She had Jon’s wild curls, but very clearly Damian’s nose and eyebrows. There were immediately a few gasps and coos among the nearby Leaguers.

“Healthy?” Clark asked. “She checked out okay?”

“Completely perfect.” Jon exhaled in excitement. “Doc said she looks like every other baby he’s ever seen, all the way down to the DNA.”

“Anything about…powers?” Clark pushed.

“Dad.” Jon rolled his eyes. “She’s only a few hours old.”

“The doctor told us to monitor her as she grows, and go over your, Jon’s, Kara’s and even Conner’s personal histories.” Damian explained instead. “And if she does at any point present powers, it will likely follow the same timeline as the rest of you.”

Lois stepped forward, gently pressing her hand to the baby’s head. Like always, she asked the question everyone else was too nervous to.

“What’s her name?”

Jon and Damian glanced at each other, and Jon let out a light laugh.

“Martha.” Damian whispered, looking straight at Bruce, with a quick glance to Clark. “Martha Charlotte.”

“Hello Miss Martha Charlotte.” Lois cooed, leaning down to kiss the baby’s head. Martha just yawned, and curled back into Damian’s chest.

“Whose last name?” Dick asked gently, taking his turn to step forward. “Martha Charlotte Kent? Martha Charlotte Wayne? Hell, Martha Charlotte al Ghul?”

Damian smirked and Jon looked heavenward as he mumbled, “To be determined.”

Dick laughed as he looked between the two men. He let his laughter die out and asked, “You two nervous?”

“Is it that obvious?” Jon countered incredulously. “I mean…jeez, I’m still afraid to hold her!” He leaned into Damian’s back. “What if I…I don’t know, squish her, or something?”

“You won’t, Beloved. I promise.” Damian teased, leaning back to kiss at Jon’s cheek.

Dick smiled, and couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward and pressed his temple against Damian’s, looking down at Martha. She gave a contented sigh.

“I am so, so, so proud of you, Damian.” Dick whispered, squeezing Damian’s arm. Lois nodded in agreement as she ran a hand through Jon’s hair, before returning her attention to the baby. “”I am so proud of you both.”

Damian let himself smile, let himself exhale in what almost sounded like relief as he leaned into Dick. He stood there a moment, let Dick and Lois fawn over the baby, before glancing up again. Clark was watching with a bright smile, one almost too big for his face. Waiting excitedly for his own turn, but clearly quickly losing his patience.

Then he looked to Bruce. Bruce who had just been staring silently since they stepped into the hallway, eyes wide, lips parted. A faint, awed smile was etched gently into his face, and it made Damian’s own smile widen. He slowly stepped away from Jon, Lois and Dick and towards his father, angling towards Clark in the process to include him too. “…Father?”

Bruce looked up at his face, the adoration clear in his old blue eyes.

“…I have a daughter, Father.” Damian breathed, looking towards Martha. She smacked her lips sleepily, and Damian’s smile, impossibly, grew. Let himself smile wider than Bruce had ever seen. “And I just…she is already my whole world. I…I’ve never loved someone so quickly.”

“That’s what having a child does to you, son.” Clark smiled.

Damian’s grin faltered, just slightly. “I’m sure it was not this way when I arrived in your life.”

It was a self-depreciating joke, made to downplay Damian’s importance to every single person in this hallway. But Bruce didn’t take it. Bruce didn’t dare play into the darkness that still plagued his youngest’s mind.

“On the contrary.” Bruce hummed, taking hold of his elbow. “I might have loved you even quicker.”

Damian snorted and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he just kept looking at Martha, shifting his hand to run across her tiny cheek. His voice was barely a breath. “…I have a daughter.”

“And she looks like you.” Bruce noted, poking at Martha’s nose. She scrunched it up and shook her head. Damian laughed, and held her even closer. “…I’m so happy for you.”

Damian looked up then, almost in surprise.

“You’re going to be a great father.” Bruce whispered, squeezing Damian’s elbow. “The best of any of us.”

Damian turned back towards his husband just in time to see Dick grab Jon and wrap him in the biggest hug he could. As Dick released him, Jon glanced over at him. “…And he will be an even greater one.”

Jon, who of course heard the whole conversation with his powers, grinned sheepishly.

Damian giggled as Jon stepped towards him, and kissed his forehead, then leaned down to do the same to Martha. A moment later, he allowed himself a deep breath. “Well. You ready?”

Jon glanced over his shoulder, towards their waiting brothers and sisters, to the entirety of the Justice League waiting behind them. He exhaled sharply. “As I’ll ever be, today.”

Dick laughed as he and Lois helped pushed the new parents forward. As Clark stepped closer to Bruce and hugged him in quiet glee.

“Welcome to the family, Martha.” Dick grinned, gesturing out to everyone, before looking down at the sleeping newborn in Damian’s arms. Damian and Jon looked happily at each other. “We’re so happy you’re here.”

#Damian Wayne #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jondami #jon kent #Lois Lane #clark kent #commission

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Carl Barks: Back to the Klondike Review: Blinkus of the Thinkus

Welcome one and all! If your a longtime reader of this blog, you know I love a good birthday celebration, having started with my first year reviewing animation last year with Donald’s and deciding to do Mickey and Scrooge’s later that year. But since I misseda LOT of disney birthdays, and found several Non-disney birthdays and anniversaries I just gotta celebrate, this year i’m making it up and style and have a whole calender set up to tack these big milestones to the wall. So over the year expect tributes to the greats of disney, looney tunes, and mgm both behind and in front of the scenes, as well as to various shows I like. It’s gonna be a good time.

So to start us off, it’s only fitting my first duck birthday since Scrooge, is for the love of his life and the stealer of his wallet, Glittering Goldie O Gilt! And I felt the best way to celebrate this storied day was to go back to her very FIRST apperance, one of earliest Scrooge headlined comics and a forever fan faviorite, Back to the Klondike!

But before we get into that, a little history on our gal in gold. Goldie was created for this story by comics god, the late great Carl Barks. Barks ended up just using her once, which is a shame but understandable as he probably only thought of her for that one adventure. While some characters like Gyro ended up being used again and again he probably just didn’t have any more stories in mind for her and figured Scrooge would return to her one day or he wouldn’t, but it wasn’t up to him. Fans however loved the character, her feisty dynamic with scrooge, and the fact she brought out his good side, so naturally other writers would bring her back. In paticular Barks Superfan Don Rosa cemented her as the love of his life and wrote several more stories with her, fleshing out their backstory and saying that at least in his personal canon, Scrooge retired to spend his final years with her. And while his fanboy was clearly showing, and that can end nasitly just ask Dan “Hates Wally West because he’s not barry allen” DiDio, glad he’s gone.. Rosa’s work with goldie is an example of what happens when it’s done right. Less DiDio or Bendis and more Al Ewing. Using the continuity and what’s there to build on a character who deserved better.. to me that’s one of the BEST things you can do in comics and Rosa’s work is proof of that, ironing out the.. questionable elements we’ll get to and leaving the gold in. So Rosa’s work combined with Ducktales not only adapting this story but bringing Goldie back a few times after that has elevated the character to a storied and permenat part of the duck canon, with her excellent heavily revamped Reboot counterpart currently carrying the torch with the help of the wonderful Allison Janey, perfect casting there. So with a legacy of gold behind her, let’s take a look at where it’s started and see if it still glitters after all these years under the cut.

We begin our story at the Money Bin. Scrooge has been counting his money.. but has already forgotten, and forgot where he put the slip he wrote the number on and even forgets who Donald is when he shows up until Donald, while having some fun with him as Scrooge is trying to phone him while he’s right there. As for how he got into the most secure place in the bin.. the story actually answers that both worringly and hilariously: Scrooge left the door unlocked. Naturally he’s not happy about this and Donald states the simple solution: Go see a doctor something’s CLEARLY very wrong, and the fact this could possibly be something like Demntia is VERY bad for someone who runs a zillion dollar company. Scrooge of course scoffs at “wasting his precious money” But Donald not only points out the obvious, that two bucks now saves him from having someone rob EVERYTHING, but Scrooge’s attempt to tie a string around his finger.. instead triggers a trap. And this entire sequence is decent with some good gags.. it’s just hampered a bit by making light of something that’s kinda bad. Not old people forgetting things.. but an old person with a disease as we find out forgetting things. Not helping is I laughed at first at the gags.. till I remembered a kind, old, friend of the family who had it and forgot me entirely by the end. So yeah, not the worst gags and the boxing glove and donald bits aren’t terrible, but it hurts now my brain’s made that connection.

Our heroes head to the doctor’s office where Scrooge is diagnosed with...

That.. might be the best name for a fictional illness i’ve ever heard in my life.. just inching out “Brain Cloud” and “Whale Cancer”. Still not the most SENSITIVE gag.. but it was the 50′s and mental issues weren’t given a lot of respect. IT’s why the above sequence and this whole part of the plot dosen’t scuttle things: It’s not the most repsectful.. but it wasn’t a time where these things were givne proper respect, treatment or knowledge, so barks wasn’t being an insentive douche on purpose, he just didn’t know. It dosen’t make it 100% okay btu it dosen’t wreck the story like say his blatant racist caractures in Voodoo Hoodoo. Seriously that’s.. not okay, and given he’s the kind of guy who researched locations he used, unlike with mental illness i expect BETTER of him than most men at the time. Still respect the guy, but it dosen’t mean i’ll overlook the fact he made some pretty bad mistakes. Same way while I love and miss Stan Lee I won’t ignore his blatant sexisim or racisim towards Chinese and Vitamise people. You CAN like a creator even if their work has some questionable and unjustifable elements, times do change and people do mamke mistakes when their young. It just depends on exactly WHAT they did or wrote that makes that distinctoin. So on that bombshell, Scrooge is given medication after a needle gag. He needs to take his pills every 12 hours. It’s then he starts to remember something, mubling abotu skagway, goldie and dawson and telling Donald to get the boys, their going to Alaska! Once they get on the boat Scrooge explains: he remembered thanks to the medcince he left a stash of gold nuggets there from his prospecting days.. and part of why this story ended up being one of the single most important to Scrooge’s character. While it establishes some character traits, something I dind’t realize till wikipedia pointed it out, it also establishes Scrooge’s days as a prospector. While other things made him what he was and got him to that point as Don Rosa would later flesh out, it was his days in the yukon that, for better or worse defined who he is now and shaped him into the man he is today: Tough, fair, badass as all hell, mean as the devil and richer than god. This time would be used a lot to set up stories, which made sense as it was the cleast and most agreed upon part of his past by all writers, and him at his abosltuely peak physically and mentally and the gold rush motif of the time perfectly fits someone defined by being rich. It’s also honestly nice that the Yukon is used, as Canada sometimes gets lost in the shuffle wise and hell until reading life and times I gneuinely had no idea what the Yukon was or where Calvin was headed when he and hobbes ran away from home.

Scrooge also first mentions Goldie and while clearly remembering her fondly.. goes into a rant about her howing him a thousand dollars which has compounded to a billion the second the boys catch on he was sweet on her with Donald assuming he’s just not a good person. But this is really just setting up another vital part of his character and the other thing: his heart. Before he’d been show as a pretty heartless, greedy asshole. While the previous story, Only a Poor Old Man, had softened him up a bit, this is the first to show that beneath the pile of greed and mean lurks a decent human being. Just don’t tell anyone or he’ll throw his money at you.. then tell you to bring it back to him. It’s what makes the character who he is: he’s cruel, onrey and selfish.. but he CAN care when the chips are down and can do the right thing.. as we’ll see later.

God I love the little poems Bill Watterson would put in the books. I didn’t as much as a kid, but god I do now. Anyways before our heroes can get going Yukon Ho, they stop in Skagway for suplies before heading out, Scrooge softing at taking a plane as “Soft” and him and the nephews hiking a week.. before running into the same flying service again, and finding out Scrooge OWNS it and forgot, because being scrooge he forgot to take his meds. Something I can relate to and i’m not proud of as staying on them is important to my well being. Seriously always take your meds. Unless their not working for you then talk with your doctor to get new ones.

So we arrive in Dawson, as our heroes will have to walk rest of the day Scrooge takes the boys to the Black Jack Ballroom, which used to be a hot spot and was where he met Goldie for the first time. After another covering for his reminscing with greedy bollocks, he tells the boys the story.. one that was cut from the original printing despite introducing goldie and something the editors dind’t bother to tell carl till they berated him over trying to sneak a blackjack saloon and a kidnapping in there... and to them, or their long dead skeletons probably, I say.

Yeah not wanting that in a kids story, while bollocks, tha’ts their perogative.. not having him send in replacement pages to keep story flow.. is dickish and underestimates kids intellegence as Don Rosa, while loving the story felt something was off till he saw the missing pages years later thanks to a fellow fan. So yeah kids, and adults, into the work noticed. Nice job. Again I can’t BLAME them for not wanting Scrooge to be a kidnapper as we’ll see and Don Rosa had to massage the hell out of that, but I can blame them for not caring enough to fix the obvious hole int he story. Though it’s now complete and unabriged and has been since the 80′s so there's that.

So in a nutshell Scrooge came to town for a coffee, and while the bartender ignored him he didn’t once he plunked down his goose egg nugget, what made his fortune and one of Scrooge’s most treasured possessions. It’s here we meet Goldie.

Yup.. just in case you thought her being a thief and greedy as hell was a new thing, and I kinda forgot how much, she dirves for the nugget, has Coffee with scrooge.. and drugs it, but makes the mistake of NOT clearing town, so Scrooge fights his way through the ballroom to her, gets the nugget back, forces her to sign the money for the iou he spent.. and then uh.. kindaps her to force her to work on his claim for 50 cents to try and teach her how to work honestly.

Yeahhhh as I said Don Rosa tried his best to fix this , and did so in his final story, which we’ll get to some day, revealing Goldie had a shot gun on her the whole time and was going along entirely to find out where Scrooge’s claim was. That.. actually makes more sense with the character and is far less horrifying and Scrooge finds this out fairly quick, so them forming an attraction out of this becomes 100% more plausable. So yeah good on Don Rosa for fixing the implications here. I may give out on him from time to time.. but he is a genuinely talented writer and did what a good comic book writer in an established continuity should do: update elements so they aren’t so... eugguuhhh after they become horrifingly outdated. And look YES she did do horrible shit to him.. but you still can’t kidnap someone over that. just put her in jail. What was any of that.

Anyways Scrooge HAS been taking his medicine, and proves it by showing the boys his pills and the next day they head to Scrooge’s old claim.. only someone’s living there and using it, and his old cabin.. and a shot gun. Yeah so they aren’t getting through in the day what about the night.. well they get attacked by Blackjack, who turns out to be owned by the claim jumper.. and is also you know a bear> And Donald left his back in new quackmore so their outmatched.

So outgunned and outplanned, if not outnumbered or outmanned, our heroes make a camp fire and whiel Donald again suggests the obvious, call the police.. Scrooge can’t. He didn’t pay taxes on the claim so he’s technically jumping his own claim and techincally she has a right to it. So techncially.. Scrooge is the bad guy here as he left the money here, didn’t pay his taxes and didn’t ever come back for it. Still beats trying to terrify your nephews or deny orphans a train because your an asshole buffet.

So the next morning Scrooge dosen’t want to rush her because “We Daren’t Get Rough with an old woman”. Two things.. 1... think before you put images in my head scrooge.. brrrrrrrrr. I mean Goldie. is not in the best shape in thie story as you’ll see and neither are you. In the reboot sure you two kept up a lot better but here.

And it’s not even an old people thing. Ann Margret was still fine so fine by the time of Grumpy Old Men, not to get creepy jut to prove i’m not being ageist. For a still alive example Keith David is also still a smokeshow at the tender age of 64. So yeah, not an age thing just not these paticular old people.

But they need a plan so the boy suggest luring the bear into a trap with honey. Donald and Scrooge build the cage while the boys.. find the jar of honey.

Regardless since the boys won’t do it for what Scrooge pays and neither will donald Scrooge goes to lure the bear with the honey. Once that’s done, and Scrooge is being covered with honey and licked by a bear...

So while he washes that off, the boys come up with another plan: they run around back while Donald makes noise to draw Goldie’s fire, with that being Dewey’s plan to meet her since he’s figured this out already. But Goldie has a backup plan and when she figures out they disabled Blackjack unleashes mosquitos... ugh. Having been stung like hornets about 50 times in animal crossing I feel you boys. So while Scrooge and Donald run off naked... troy if you will.

Thank you Troy, the boys confront Goldie who reveals her identity... and that she’s broke, her dance hall having failed with the rush and this claim being all she has.. and her suspecting scrooge woudl gladly take it. The boys vow not to tell scrooge.. but he’s on his way so they kinda have to and he primps to go visit and Donald starts to see through his BS about collecting the debt. Sure enough despite being taken aback by her putting on her old dress , he takes her for all she has and is.. genuinely suprised as she thought she’d have more and she’d actually changed since the old days, donating her profits to orphans from mining disasters. Scrooge.. is clearly rattled by this. Whiel it turns out to my shock he was clealry after the money, though givne who we’re dealing with I shoudln’t of been really, he still cares and still realizes he’s being kind of a dick. So he challengers her to a gold digging race, and if she wins the claim is hers and any gold she finds.. and naturally, while he seemingly puts her soemwhere where there isn’t she finds the claim and Scrooge bemoans not taking his pill.. but while the boys boo him for it, Goldie who fondly waves them off and Donald know better: Donald points out he counted the pills this morning.. and recently. SCrooge DID take one today... he’s just has his cane shoved firmly up his ass with pride so he coudln’t ADMIT he was wrong and instead simply staged that whole thing with the full knowledge Goldie would win. It, again, sets up one of his defniing traits; how he keeps people at arms length. How he’s just so proud and full of himself he can’t bear to admit anything resembling weakness.. but WILl find a way to do the right thing without that or forgoe it as a last resort. He may project being a stingy cretionus old man.. because he is.. but he’s got a heart as big as that nugget.. it’s just locked tight in it’s own bin... his body is complicated and weird that way Final Thoughts:

This story is a classic with a decent setup, great backstory for scrooge, and a great guest character and unquestionable impact on the character. However.. it does have it’s problem; As Don Rosa, who as i’ll remind you is both a huge barks fanboy and huge scoldie shipper, himself pointed out he wrote his final story, and had planned to for years ENTIRELY because this one never quite explains how Scrooge and Goldie went from old enmies to lovers.It did lead to one of his best stories and one of the first I read post life and times so, props to that. And of course as I pointed out some things have just.. not aged well, especially the kidnapping so their relationship kinda comes off like stockholm syndrom as a result of both of these.

That being said.. warts and all.. it’s still a really damn good story and a good one to try if your intrested in barks work or where Goldie came from: it has adventure, some really good jokes and if you can get past the dated bits the plot is solid. And while it goes without saying i’ll say it anyway Barks art is goregous as always ESPECIALLY in the flashback sequence. Overall not the best AGED Scrooge story, though not the worst either see Voodoo Hoodoo, good god, but defintely a classic for a reason. If you liked this review, follow me for more, and for more duck content as I still have more of the three cablleros to work through, another chapter of life and times coming up this week befor ewe break again for feburary, and some other fun stuff. Until the next rainbow, it’s been a pleasure.

#carl barks #scrooge mcduck #uncle scrooge #donald duck #huey duck #louie duck #dewey duck #glittering goldie #goldie o gilt #scoldie #back to the klondike #blackjack #comics #disney #ducktales

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goldandbluesmiles · 4 years ago

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Heading Towards Something Good

Summary: Damian, Father, Family and Affection

Notes: Based on this prompt by @just-an-aussie-otaku Hope I did it justice.

Ao3

XXX

The relationship between Damian, his family, and affection was...unnamable at best.

The League had not been big on displays of affection, praise had been sparse and the only positive touch had been after a job well done. Jobs that had let Damian empty and hollowed out. His mother had tried, but in keeping the balance between keeping her father happy and keeping her son safe, his mother had let normal child-rearing slide.

It was probably why she had sent him to Gotham.

When he had first come to the manor, he had been distant from his family. Then his father had died and the emotions that he had tried to keep a lid on had exploded around him.

And there had been Grayson.

Grayson, who had sat up with him at night, even when he had acted terribly to the older man.

Grayson, who had given him hugs and ruffled his hair even when he had threatened to stab him.

Grayson, who had ostracized one of his brothers for him. Damian himself might not like Drake but he knew how much he meant to Grayson and how much it had hurt the man to drive him away to look after Damian.

Grayson had given him unconditional love even though Damian had made it extremely hard for him.

And now Grayson wasn't there anymore.

He wasn't gone per se. Bludhaven was only half an hour away after all, and Damian could not begrudge him his own life. Damian was also quite glad to get to know his father alone.

However, Grayson's absence was felt. Especially on nights when Damian felt like peeling his skin off.

Grayson had always had an infinity for knowing when Damian needed him. And while Father was there now, he had no such instinct. They simply did not know each other enough.

The only way for Damian to get anything out of him would be to ask.

And really, he'd rather just take comfort from the dark.

xxx

Damian might not have had much training as a Bat but he had more than enough as an Assassin. He thinks that maybe his family had forgotten that sometimes, especially during the time his father was lost in the time stream.

Damian had started to silently creep around the house at night and none of the present occupants of the house had ever caught him. It had allowed him to hear conversations and exchanges he wouldn't have usually been privy to.

One of the first ones he had heard had taken place three weeks after Father's disappearance.

"I don't know what to do Wally, it's just so hard. I don't know how Bruce used to do take care of little me- Yeah okay, I guess he wasn't grieving at the time but still-"

If Richard and Alfred ever figured out that he overheard their conversation they had never shown. Hearing them had given him a new perspective on the first Robin, it had allowed him to appreciate what the older man was doing for him and had brought them closer.

It was this closeness that had allowed him to learn more about the kind of man his father was. Richard had told him stories of how in the beginning he had practically forced tactile affection on the repressed man. By the time Jason had come along, Father had been so well conditioned by his eldest that he had reached out on his own. Both he and his young ward had been at an uneasy middle until Jason had finally succumbed to the comfort. Post-death Jason had a relationship that consisted of barbs and retorts underlined with the care that existed years ago. Drake had been different, he had had parents and Father had been grieving, but eventually, they had been headed to a sort to a resolution that had picked up now that Father was back. Cassandra and Father had their own language, consisting of silent looks and precise movements. Stephanie and Barbara were not his children but they both had history and respect with him.

Damian had no idea what he had with Father.

"He'll want something with you too," Richard had said a little while after the original Batman had shown back up.

Damian had not answered him but that statement was the reason that he found himself slinking down the hallway towards Father's room.

Tonight was not a good night. It was the kind of night that made him want to silently scream, made the glass shards inside of him scrape at his sides and made the insistent buzzing in his head loud enough to drown out his thoughts.

It was the kind of night that Richard would have held him to sleep.

But Richard was in Bludhaven. And Father was just in reach.

The door was open. A few more steps and Father would surely notice him.

For a second, just a second, Damian consider just turning back to his room and forcing himself to go to sleep. However, the idea of being alone in his room again made him want to be violently ill.

By God, Richard had spoiled him. He had never had this problem with the League.

Making up his mind, Damian went forward until he was standing on the doorway to Father's room. The man was sitting up in bed and seemed to be looking at some papers with WE logo on them. It took him almost a minute to look up from them but when he did, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"Damian?" he asked

Feeling a bit panicked he blurted out the first that came to mind.

"Father, I need affection,"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Damian felt his whole body grow still and cold. This was not how he was supposed to say that! He looked pathetic! Father was going to think-

Except.

Except that Father merely raises his arm outwards, a clear invitation to sit with him. Refusing to overthink, Damian moved until he was in the circle of his father's arm. Once he was there, the older man bodily hauled him onto the bed. The reports were moved around until there was enough room for Damian to curl up in Father's lap, right against his chest.

"Oh, baby," said Father, once Damian was settled in his arms, "You only have to ask. I know I'm not good at noticing when you kids need something like this and I try to be better at it. But Damian if I don't notice, please ask if you need me,"

Damian nodded against the older man's chest and his father gently kissed his temple.

"Do you want me to turn off the light or is it okay for me to continue reading?"

"It's alright," murmured, already starting to get hazy. Father was warmer then Richard and while Richard's hugs had been tight and soothing, Father's was all-encompassing and safe.

Damian fell asleep as the glass inside carefully receded and his skin finally felt right again.

xxx

After that small incident, Damian became much more comfortable asking his Father for what he needed.

He even used the same line he did the first night. It never failed to make Father's lips twitch up in a smile.

Usually, they were alone when Damian asked. Just before school in the morning, the study or the lounge in the evenings, their rare lunches together, sometimes in the Batcave after patrol.

But they were always alone. Then came the day when Richard was over. School had been long and tedious. Homework had taken more energy than he had anticipated. All he wanted was to curl up with Father and just spend the evening in his company, however, it happened.

He first checked the study. Father was not there. The next place to look was in the lounge. Damian did find Father there, lying horizontally on the couch, book in his hand. However, he was not alone. Richard was there too, working on his laptop. He hadn't called Damian before coming over which meant the decision was last minute.

Damian contemplated just going to Richard and sitting with him the way they used to. However, his older brother looked busy and Damian was surprised to find that he wanted to sit with Father. Not just because he was the only option, but because it was honestly soothing.

Mind made up, Damian walked over to Father and stood by him with his arms crossed.

"Father, I need affection,"

In response, the older man raised his arm without taking his eyes off the book he was reading. Damian ducked under it and ended up laying on top of his father, head pillowed on his chest.

Damian knew Richard was watching them but with the way his muscles were uncoiling, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Dick, for his part, hid his shock pretty well. On the inside, he was squealing in delight but he kept his composure, occasionally sneaking glances at Bruce and Damian. Bruce kept reading his book and Damian seemed to be texting someone. After every few minutes, Bruce gently stroked a hand through Damian's hair and give his temple a kiss.

So Adorable.

Dick discreetly took a picture. Damian obviously didn't notice and if Bruce did, he didn't say anything.

The picture was later sent to everyone he knew.

And if Damian internally smiled at the copy he was shown by Selina...well no one needed to know.

xxx

Tim and Bruce were sitting in the cave working on their perspective reports when Damian walked to them. Tim side-eyes him, surprised to see the boy in his civilian clothing. Most of them tried to keep both lives separate and Damian especially never stayed in the cave in his civies.

He was even more surprised when Damian climbed into Bruce's lap. There were no words spoken, no indication. He just climbed up there and started reading the case file along with Bruce.

And Bruce. Just did nothing. He just let him sit there.

Had Tim missed something? When had these two gotten so comfortable? He'd seen the picture but this-? And since when did Bruce let people that close to him?

Tim himself was rarely on the receiving end of the closeness.

As soon as Tim had that thought, he regretted it. He knew from stories that Bruce had been a different man before Jason's death. His relationship with Cass was good. Tim had been unfortunate with his timing. At first, they were just professionally linked and by the time he had been adopted, they had had a habit neither one had taken the time to break.

Tim couldn't begrudge the man trying to have a better relationship with the child he never knew he had. He just wished watching it didn't make him feel a little hollow inside.

Still, as the even went on Tim couldn't help but feel a little happy about it too. He loved his family and both of them deserved this.

And anyway it wasn't as if his relationship with Bruce was lacking any love. He was especially reminded of this later on patrol when Batman bought Red Robin his favourite shake 'just because'

xxx

Jason was halfway out the door when he realized he didn't have his keys with him.

Damn it.

This is what happened when he came to the manor as Jason Todd and got comfortable. He started acting like a normal human being instead of the paranoid and cautious bat he was supposed to be.

It's good to keep them separate. You can be just Jason too, son.

And that was Bruce's voice in his head.

Jesus Christ. He really needed to get out of here and get drunk with Roy. Maybe Kori could be persuaded to come too.

He headed to the TV room and was treated to a lightly odd but admittedly adorable sight. Bruce was sitting on the couch with Damian in his lap, both of them fast asleep and snoring lightly with their mouths open. Cassandra was also there leaning into Bruce's side, looking sleepy but awake.

Jason let his lips twitch up at one side and grabbed a blanket from the armchair. He spread it over Bruce and his siblings. Bruce and Damian barely stirred but Cass smiled at him and mouthed 'Thank you'.

Jason gave her a salute, grabbed his keys from the table and headed out again, a little more bounce in his steps.

Later when Roy asked him why he was smiling like a moronic sap, he just grinned harder and pushed the other man to the ground.

It's what he deserved.

xxx

"Oh Hey, Bruce-"

Tim entered the living room and was greeted to the sight of Damian, once again, curled up in Bruce's lap. Stephanie was there too, sitting on a different couch and discreetly snapping pictures of the pair.

He had been hoping to get Bruce alone and while he wouldn't mind Stephanie, Damian still had some problem sharing his time with his dad.

"Tim did you need something?" asked Bruce

"Uh, well I was hoping to show you my report but we can do it later. I'll just-"

Before he could walk away, Bruce's voice stopped him.

"Why not now, Tim?"

He turned back to look at Bruce and saw that he was frowning in confusion. Tim didn't know how to tell him that his youngest was most likely to stab him at his intrusion. And the was Stephanie was stifling her laughter wasn't helping either.

Before he could come up with an excuse, however, Damian straightened up and jumped to his feet.

"Father is right, Drake," said Damian, "Putting off work is not a good look. You just reminded me I have a report on my own to finish,"

Tim raised his eyebrow at the boy. Even if Tim hadn't been trained by the Bat, he could have seen the lie from a mile away. Which meant-

He shared a disbelieving look with Stephanie. Had the Batbrat just read the room?

Wonders would never cease.

Tim sat down with Bruce and they carefully started to go over the reports from WE.

As he was sitting, Tim found himself leaning closer and closer to his dad. Finally, he just decided to take a leap of faith and put his head on Bruce's shoulder. Without any hesitation or lull in the conversation, the older man put his arm around Tim, pulling him close and giving his hair a kiss.

Huh. So it was that easy.

Stephanie raised her camera at them, looking at them in amusement.

Tim looked her dead in the eye and, very maturely, stuck his tongue out at her.

The deep sigh from Bruce did not deter either of them.

xxx

Bruce had noticed how comfortable his youngest had become around him and it never ceased to warm his heart.

They were at a gala, Him, Dick, Tim and Damian. It was late into the night but only halfway through the party and Bruce was chatting with a group of socialites. He was in the middle of pretending to find Mrs. Doser's vacation story interesting when he felt a tug at his side. He looked down to find his youngest standing by him and sleepily rubbing his eyes.

Damian didn't say anything but when he looked, Bruce read his face loud and clear even if that wasn't Damian's intention. Without any hesitation, he picked up the young boy and settled him against his shoulder. Damian squirmed a little but in the end, he relaxed under Bruce's gentle coaxing.

Damian was surprised at his Father's actions. At best he had hoped to have some of his Father's attention, at worst be berated or sent away. He had not expected this and could find no reason for it to be happening. But as the night went on and people merely cooed and awed at them, he figured this was just something people did with their children.

He got an image of his mother carrying him after a brutal training session but banished it from his mind. She had done her best and thinking about it wouldn't help.

During a separate incident, Batman was sitting in front of the Batcomputer having a meeting with the core members of the JL. He was in the middle of explaining the budget when Damian marched towards him wearing a mask and completely uncaring of the faces on the computer. As soon as he reached Bruce he jumped into his lap and closed his eyes. He must have been severely sleep-deprived because it only took his moments to fall asleep.

Bruce was torn. On one hand, his sweet, precious baby was sleeping in his lap. On the other hand, the founding members of the JL were still online and only Hal Jordan knew his identity.

In the end, the meeting continued with Batman glaring every time anyone tried to deviate from the subject.

If he smiled at the string of emojis and supportive texts Superman and Wonder Woman sent him on hs secure computer, it was his own secret.

xxx

Damian couldn't sleep and the most frustrating thing was that he couldn't pinpoint the reason. He hadn't gone on patrol and his day had been relatively uneventful.

He just couldn't find sleep.

Damian finally gave up and padded down to the den. He was surprised to find that Richard was there too.

"I guess we had the same idea, huh?" said Richard, sending him a soft smile

A closer look at the older man's face and Damian knew that Richard had a good reason to not be asleep. His eyes were puffy and face a little pale as if he had been crying.

"Couldn't sleep," mumbled Damian

"Same," said Richard waving his arm to invite him over.

Damian went over situated himself beside his older brother leaning slightly against his arm. They sat there in silence for a little while until Father came into the room.

He stopped in the doorway, almost as if he hadn't expected anyone to be down there.

"Boys," boys he murmured sounding tired but awake at the same time

"Hey B,"

"Father,"

"You know what we should do?" asked Father, taking in both their appearances.

Damian was confused by Richard seemed to perk up.

"Pillow fort!" he said

Father smiled, "Pillow fort,"

What followed was one of the most confusing half-an-hour of Damian's life. He hand never made a pillow fort before but he was good at taking directions and arranged blankets, pillows and support as required. When they were finished, they had quite a big tent with pillow walls, blanket roof, and cushions to keep them comfortable.

"Why is it so big?" he asked

As if on cue, Timothy, Stephanie and Cassandra stumbled into the room.

"See, I told you I heard voices," said Stephanie

"Yeah, yeah," said Timothy, "Are you guys making a fort?"

"Yup," said Dick, "Join us! The more the merrier,"

Damian expected himself to feel annoyance at being interrupted but found that he felt...content.

Now wasn't that a thought.

They had just started to arrange themselves when Jason walked in with Duke right behind him.

"Pillow forting without us," said Jason

"That's not a word," mumbled and Timothy, "And there's room,"

"What do you think, kid?" Jason asked Duke, "Should we grace them with our presence?"

Duke grinned, "I don't know about you but that looks comfy,"

"The Duke has spoken," Jason mock cried, "Make room brats,"

They moved around until Father in the middle. Dick and Tim on either side of him and Damian on his lap. Duke curled up across Tim and Father's legs while Jason took the spot opposite of him. Stephanie and Cassandra ended up curled together on the comfy couch behind Father.

"Good Night, everyone," said Father

There were a few mumbled answers as everyone started to nod off surrounded by the comfort of family.

Damian fell asleep with a smile on his face.

The relationship between Damian, his family, and affection was still unnamable. But he liked to think that it was heading toward something good.

#batfamily #batman #batdad #Damian Wayne #Damian al Ghul #bruce wayne #dick grayson #batfamily members

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