#and barking orders into Bruce’s comm

[frownyalfred]

okay but the absolute aura of Alfred Pennyworth putting on his special ops operator voice and ordering Bruce to make it home when he’s injured on a solo patrol? he’s the servant, he’s the one who calls Bruce sir, but in that moment, he’s the drill sergeant in Bruce’s ear. he’s the one calling the shots. he is uncompromising.

“Get to the Cave. That’s an order.”

and for some reason, that desperate final attempt to motivate a bleeding, semi-conscious Batman works.

[jaewritesfic]

Melon!AU Part 2

If it had been anyone but Cass to suggest it, Bruce is certain that both Damian and Tim would have responded with an immediate and vehement, Are you insane?!

But it is Cass. It's Cass, so Damian makes a choked sound and bites out, “Help. The Pit Demon?”

Similarly, Tim chokes out, “I don't know about that one, Black Bat. I mean- it's- it looks-”

“Judging books?” Cass asks through comms, a gentle disapproval in her tone that rivals Alfred’s in effectiveness. Bruce himself feels a little cowed by it.

Diplomacy had not, after all, been on his mind before his daughter spoke up.

He should know better than to make assumptions, especially if she's right and the creature isn't as hostile as it seems.

That's still a very big if.

“Commissioner,” Bruce says lowly, turning his head. Gordon is lingering near the roof access stairway, having come up to brief them but seeming reluctant to even look down on the creature in the alley. “Have there been any casualties? Injuries?”

Jim falters, uncharacteristically rattled. Bruce can't blame him - there's a low level dread and an unsettling feeling just being in the same vicinity as the creature, and that's as a seasoned vigilante. Someone who faces death down regularly.

“Uh. No. No, it uh- it took some swipes at people who got too close, but it didn't connect. We backed off pretty fast and called you as soon as possible.”

Bruce blinks. “Not even any blood drawn?”

Gordon shakes his head. “Damn miracle. The thing is fast and those claws are vicious.”

He hears Cass hum into the comms, and he understands exactly why.

The thing in the alley is built to do damage. He has his doubts it was any kind of miracle that made it ‘miss’ any of the swipes it took.

Trying to scare them off indeed.

“Black Bat. What exactly are you reading off the creature?”

“Looking for exits. Desperate. Overwhelmed.”

Bruce hums. “Being cornered and desperate will make anyone or anything dangerous. We need to proceed carefully here. Even if it doesn't want to hurt anyone, that doesn't mean it won't if it thinks it has no other-”

The shadow that is Cass shifts in his periphery, and he looks up to the opposite roof just in time to bark, “Do not-!” as Cass steps off the roof and flips down into the alley.

Why are his kids so determined to give him a stroke?

Dick vaults up over the edge of the roof to join he and Tim, saying, “I'm here, what's-”

He cuts off and claps his hands over his ears with everyone else when the creature shrieks at Black Bat's unexpected arrival.

“Black Bat,” Bruce grits out, heart in his throat as he peers over the edge with ringing ears. “Retreat back to the rooftops now.”

One tap to the comm. No.

Bruce grits his teeth, fighting not to show his anxiety. It's not like Cass to refuse orders. Hell, he can't remember her ever disobeying an order in the field so blatantly.

The low warning noise the creature is making now is almost as bad as the shriek. Something about it sets off every alarm bell in his brain, like it was never meant to be heard by human ears. Almost a growl, almost a moan, something celestial and unfathomable.

Cass doesn't back up or get any closer. She raises a hand slowly in a little wave and says, “Hello.”

If it were possible to startle a fax machine, it would probably sound like the creature does as it jerks and snaps its mouth shut in surprise, lamplight eyes going huge and round.

Masterpost

[haveihitanerve]

i have this headcanon that Bruce still calls Dick Robin or Boy Wonder when they work together and he still calls Babs Batgirl from time to time because to him they are.

Hearing Dick crack a joke while doing a flip and karate chopping a goon flies him back in time to when it was just the two of them, the Batman and Robin days

When Babs crackles in his comm with information and maybe a quick quipp, thats batgirl in his ear, scolding him for getting hurt

And Dick might not show any outward shift at the name, might not do more than follow the barked order of 'robin on your left!' and babs wont remark the different name, the 'thank you batgirl' instead of oracle, but maybe Dick stands a little straighter, maybe Babs sits up a little, preens

Because to them Bruce isn't this maniac who kidnapped express adopted a bunch of children, he's just bruce. their bruce. their batman. And they are his Batgirl and Robin. His Boy and Girl Wonder.

[justasimpleton-26]

It's April Fool's and Jason Todd decides that this year, he's going to make Bruce his target.

Especially because he already got Dick (he superglued short sparkly skirts on several of his Nightwing suits), and he got Tim (hacked into the coffee maker and coded it so it would only make vegan-soy friendly hot chocolate), and even Damian wasn't safe. (Jason went on several animal shelters spree two towns over of Gotham, took pictures with ALL of them, and posted them online which Damian caught wind of, and a brawl ensued on the side of Wayne Manor.)

But to be fair, Jason can't really figure out WHAT would freak out Bruce. Bruce has a cold exterior and shows very little emotion, not TOO bad, but the man is so nonchalant, Jason can only count of maybe 2 or 3 instances where Bruce actually lost his cool.

And it was on March 30th that Jason had an idea.

He bought an extra comm that didn't have Bruce's tracker and coded it in secretly with the others, deciding that the best prank would be to have a robbery go wrong.

Bruce would freak out, Jason would listen in on the chaos, and then reveal himself to the family.

What could go wrong, right?

Actually alot.

So much, Jason wanted to master building a time machine so he could take the day back.

On patrol as Red Hood, Jason scours downtown Gotham. There's always something going on over there.

It'd be easy to find someone who was committing a petty crime or something and that was what illegal.

So Jason is patrolling around that area, the extra comm in his pocket, when he sees a gang of men and young teens stuffing bags with what looks like alot of bills.

Jason glares at them and tells the others in the comms that he's going to take down a gang by himself.

Even though Dick, in his Nightwing suit, is the closest, he's still thirty minutes away. Jason ignores the others telling him to wait on back up, and then "forgets" to switch his comm off, so they can hear everything going on his side.

Jason exaggerates the fight, ducking and weaving punches, and kicking guns out of their hands.

It's when one of the gang members pulls out a crowbar by dragging it on the cement that Jason falters a tiny bit.

Jason can hear everyone in the comms go crazy, telling him to fall back, and at one point, Jason hears Bruce bark out an order to fall back and he remembers the whole point of this.

The last standing gang member with the crowbar aims the weapon for Jason’s head, and Jason ducks, causing the crowbar to scrape against a brick wall.

Jason is exhausted having dealt with the other gang members, and Dick is requesting Jason’s location which Jason doesn't accept when the gang member hits the comm out of Jason’s ear and it clatters to the floor.

Crowbar guy steps on the comm, and Jason’s location goes off grid.

Jason can't believe how lucky he was because he'd been trying to figure out how he was going to severe the comm's tracking to properly do his prank, and Crowbar guy done gave him a solution.

Jason slams his fist against Crowbar guy's jaw, and pulls out his extra comm, switching it on to hear the commotion going on.

His feelings of victory wither when he hears Bruce screaming at Barbra to find Jason’s location, Dick's panicked voice slipping in as he tries to find Jason’s last spot on foot. Tim sounds like he's trying to be the voice of reason and logic, but dread and fear coat his words.

Even Damian sounded like he was struggling to keep his emotions in check because no WAY was this happening again. No way was Damian hearing his father, the Bruce Wayne of all people, fall apart like this, when he'd always ALWAYS had a backup plan for any horrible outcome.

The joke had gone too far.

"Guys? Guys, I'm okay, it's me." Jason says into the comms, and the silence and relief is so intense on the other side, that Jason can feel his guilt grow twofold.

"Report back to the Manor." Bruce chokes out, sounding like he's struggling to keep his emotions in check.

"Copy that." Jason replies, leaving the comm on so Barbra can send his location to Nightwing.

Wing meets him halfway there, and he gives Jason a once over before he punches Jason, then pulls him into a hug so tight, his ribs ache.

"It was just supposed to be a joke." Jason said weakly to Dick.

"Yeah, that was the stupidest thing you could have done. And you ruined alot of my Nightwing suits." Dick replied.

Jason didn't know what to say to that, so the way back home was met in silence.

And then Jason stepped into Wayne Manor where Damian and Tim tackled Jason into a hug, and Bruce stepped in with Alfred, Bruce looking like he aged 2 more years. His eyes were bloodshot, hair a mess from probably pulling on it, and his clothes were wrinkles beyond measure.

He didn't ask Jason anything, just pulled Jason into a hug so hard, Jason could feel tears run down his face.

"Don't ever fucking scare me like that again. Okay?" Bruce told him, as he leaned back and studied Jason’s face, and checked him over for aby bodily injuries.

Jason’s throat is closed with emotion, and he nods his head in agreement.

Needless to say, this was the last time that Jason celebrated April Fool's, or even did a prank.

And when the others questioned why, Jason shrugged it off as finally maturing.

Jason turns off his devices mid patrol and pretends to be dead again for april fool's one time and Bruce has a mental breakdown so bad, Jason has to come clean immediately.

[ashboy-3]

I Promise I'm Safe

Written for SladeRobin mini event 2023 Day 3 Prompt: "Either Way I Win Fandom: Batman/ Nightwing Characters: Jason, Dick, Slade, Bruce, and Babara Words: 932 Warnings: minor violence Summary: While dealing with a small gang Dick and Jason have a run-in with Slade. It's the aftermath that everyone seems to have a problem with

“Red Hood Nightwing report.” Batman’s orders came through the comm lines as the two brothers were in a fight with another Gotham gang.

“We’re fine B. We got it handled. Meet you at the rendezvous point at 20,” Nightwing’s voice reported.

“I don’t take orders from you,” Jason said with a bark that had no bite, well no longer.

“They have hired guns, keep a lookout for secluded points,” Babara’s voice warned them as the two now had to pay attention to stray gunshots.

“I’m on it!” Jason shouted, ducking out from the big fight to go into the shadows.

“You’re leaving your left open,” a new voice said through Dick’s comm.

“Deathstroke? What are you doing here?” Dick asked as a gunshot rang from high up in the right, hitting Dick’s opponent on the head.

Hearing someone behind him, Dick was quick to turn and get into the mercenary’s face,” You didn’t have to kill them.”

“I kill people it’s my job,” Slade’s voice spoke as he lifted a gun and shot someone coming from behind Dick.

“Well you could always learn to do your job without killing,” Dick snapped back, throwing a Batarang at the person coming for Slade.

“How can a mercenary be a mercenary without killing,” Slade asked rhetorically.

“What are you doing here,” Dick asked, the two never stopped fighting the gang.

“I was hired to protect them, but imagine my surprise when the bats show up for some low-life gang,” Slade laughed.

“We came upon them by accident,” Dick punched a guy in the face.

“We were actually looking for Riddler’s gang. One of his usual members is known to hang around here and imagine our surprise when he’s trying to run his gang. Crooks never learn,” Dick laughed.

“They can be annoying,” Slade continued to shoot and take them down. “Where did Hood go?”

“To get rid of the hired guns,” Dick shrugged.

“Yeah and he’s tired of hearing your dramatic ass conversation!” Jason rolled his eyes behind his mask as he took out the last of the goons.

“Why are you helping us?” Jason asked, getting into the pirate’s face.

“The bats are fun to play with. Anyone could notice Wing having an off day, wanted to make sure he stayed on his feet,” Slade shrugged.

“I hate dealing with you,” Jason pointed a finger in Slade’s face.

“I hate putting up with your dramatics,” Jason put a finger in front of Dick’s face.

“Like hell, I’m dealing with both of you together. I don’t give a fuck why you’re here, but if you hurt or fuck him up in any way I will kill you,” Jason let his glare linger on Slade as he made sure his gun was pointed at the man’s heart

“Is that a threat boy,” Slade grabbed the barrel of the gun.

“It’s a promise,” Jason walked away, but not before turning around. “Are you coming goldie?”

“I’ll be there in one second. Just let me ask him something really quick!” Dick shouted back as he turned around to face the villain.

“Why did you help us?”

“The rival gang hired me. Figure I could take them out and help you. Either way, I win. I’ll see you tonight pretty bird,” Slade whispered the last part in Dick’s ear as he disappeared into the night, letting him join his brother on the rooftop.

“I really don’t like that guy,” Jason said.

“You and the rest of the world,” Dick agreed, an awkward silence falling over the two as they ran back to their vehicles to get to the cave.

“Dick promise me something,” Jason finally spoke, the last thing before they officially joined the others.

“What Jaybird?” Dick asked, a carefree smile on his face.

“You’re being careful with him right?” Jason asked.

“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do,” Dick promised him as the two joined the others.

“Why was Deathstroke there,” Bruce demanded as he stood in front of the two brothers.

“No idea. Wouldn’t say,” Dick stated.

“He came beat up the gang, killed a few others then left,” Jason shrugged, ignoring the looks the other bats were sending the two.

“Secrets are dangerous in our line of work,” Bruce said, his voice being the warning.

“Ha like your one to talk. You know how I feel about hypocrites B. We’re allowed to have our secrets as much as you are,” Jason got closer, looking the bat in the eye, warning him to back off before a fight broke out.

“Okay, you two. That’s enough. B we told you everything. I’m going to shower and head home I have an early shift tomorrow,” Dick pushed the two away as he walked off.

After his shower Dick said bye to his family, Jason was already gone as Alfred handed him some leftovers.

“Drive safe Master Dick,” Alfred hugged him.

“I’ll be back soon Alfie. I always come back,” Dick promised as he was getting on his bike bruce stopped him.

“Be careful Dick. The last thing any of us want is for you to get hurt,” Bruce put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m fine B. I promise,” Dick smiled as he drove off. Once he got back to his small apartment in Bludhaven he was greeted by strong arms wrapping around him.

“Did you get in trouble with the bat cause of me,” Slade asked.

“Nothing that I can’t handle,” Dick promised as the two just enjoyed being in each other’s company till they eventually have to fight on the opposite side once again.

[batfam-slash]

“I’m so done with this shit!”

Jason pulls his comms out of his ear and the tracker Bruce had given him and throws them on the ground, before reaching for his helmet.

“Jay,” Dick says calmly. “Let’s just talk about this.”

They’re all just staring at Jason like he’s the one being unreasonable. Like he’s the one barking out orders and dismissing everybody else, not thinking about what’s best for the mission. Keeping control even though they lost two important leads tonight.

“Fuck this,” Jason says. “I’m done with this.” He looks at Bruce. “Don’t ever ask for my help again.”

Bruce’s jaw clenches. “Jason, sit down. Let me explain.”

“Fuck you.” Jason sees Lazarus green.

He’s about to storm towards his bike when he meets Tim’s eyes.

He’s not sure if it’s the familiar love and understanding in those eyes, the rage he feels, or the need to give some kind of a fuck you to Bruce.

Jason marches over to Tim, grabs him round the waist and dips him. He smashes their mouths together and kisses Tim with as much passion as he can muster. Tim kisses him back, and Jason can feel everybody’s eyes burning into him.

“I love you,” Jason mumbles against Tim’s lips as they part, too low for anyone else to hear, but he knows the others are good enough at lip reading to make it out.

“I’m out of here,” Jason says to everyone, eyes stinging as he turns and heads towards his bike.

He can’t bring himself to look at any of them.

Especially not Tim.

[sun-moon-stars-jedi]

So, I have this idea for a Batfam time travel fanfic that starts when Jason, Tim and Damian are somehow teamed up for a mission (the disaster is practically inevitable from the beginning, but everyone else was either busy or injured, so Bruce had to begrudgingly send them out together) and just as you would expect, something goes terribly wrong.

Later Jason will say it was Tim’s fault because his cape got in the way and tripped Jason up, Tim will say Damian pushed him into Jason’s path so it was really Damian’s fault, and Damian will say that it was a reflection from Jason’s dumb helmet that blinded him and made him stumble into Tim, but regardless of what really happened, they somehow land right in the path of the strange ray gun their villain-of-the-week is wielding and are all hit by something that looks and sounds and feels like a bolt of lightning.

When they wake up, miraculously still alive and only a little bit sore, the warehouse around them is empty, their comms are dead, and once they make their way outside they quickly realize they’re in a Gotham years before their time.

Now, there are of course some very strict rules regarding time-travel and interacting with people they know in the past, but as their luck would have it, their entrance wasn’t exactly subtle (even in Gotham people notice lightning and thunder whithout a thunderstorm), and before they can even make it a block away from the warehouse Batman and Robin swing down from the rooftops and confront them.

Batman of course does his whole “Who are you and what do you want in my city” thing, complete with the growly voice and intimidating loom, but it’s not like that can faze any of his kids after all this time.

No, what gets to them, particularly Tim and Damian, is the teeny version of Dick standing next to Bruce. He can’t be any older than 11 or 12, and while Tim and Damian had both seen pictures and heard the stories, seeing their older brother standing as tall as he can (which isn’t all that tall even compared to them) in his bright yellow cape and the short pants next to Batman...well, can anyone really blame them for bursting out laughing?

That’s of course not the reaction Batman and Robin expect, and for a few seconds they just seem to freeze up in the face of these new costumed...cosplayers?? criminals?? vigilantes?? who are just laughing their asses off when faced with the dynamic duo.

Jason is the only one who doesn’t fall into hysterics (he can’t start laughing; he wore the short pants too and would only open himself up to even more ridicule in the future than he would already undoubtedly get from the two little twerps), and he’s also not stunned with surprise, because he knows exactly what’s going on here.

So, as the only capable person around (what else is new) he barks at Tim and Damian to cut it out and behave professionally. They’re on a mission after all, and they don’t want to antagonize Batman and Robin, do they?

Surprisingly they listen, Tim even mumbles somewhat of an apology at Robin, who still looks kind of sulky, but accepts it after a nudge from Batman.

Then there’s an awkward silence where both sides just look each other over, though it’s not as hostile as it was before, and with some quick mental math on how much he can tell Bruce Jason starts to explain that they’re also a vigilante team like them and don’t want any trouble, they had only made their way into Gotham because they’d tracked a lead.

Jason keeps everything deliberately vague and doesn’t mention the time-travel (he’s not even sure if Bruce and Dick had encountered something like it at this point and he absolutely doesn’t want to get thrown into Arkham because they think he’s delusional), but apparently his answers satisfy Bruce, because he loosens his stance and nods in approval.

Bruce asks if they need any help, what kind of case they’re working on, what their code-names are - they all have to come up with something fast here, because obviously Red Hood, Red Robin and Robin are precisely the worst names they could give Bruce and Dick in this time, so Jason calls himself Arsenal, Tim says Drake (still the worst name Jason has ever heard) and Damian says Flamebird, which is pretty cute Jason has to admit, though he will still definetly tease his brother about his choice once they’re back home.

It’s only when Bruce asks “And how long are you and your sons planning to stay in the city?” that Jason realizes Bruce thinks they’re a father/son(s) crime-fighting team the same as him and Dick and before he can think better of it he says “Not long.” in answer and leaves the other part of the question uncorrected, even though he can practically feel two pairs of eyes burning into his back with indignation.

The conversation moves on and somehow there never seems to be a good opportunity to rectify that, and so they eventually part ways with Bruce and Dick, planning to meet again the next night to exchange information.

Jason, the chaotic older brother that he is, can’t resist a “Come along now, sons” just as they leave - Tim and Damian are pissed, Jason isn’t their dad, he can’t tell them what to do, and once they’re out of Batman and Robin’s earshot they make their opinion on that very clear, but it’s too late now - for as long as they’re in this time they’ll have to pretend in front of Bruce and Dick.

As it turns out getting back home takes a little longer than Jason, Tim and Damian had initially hoped for, so they spend at least a week or two in this time, during which they meet Dick and Bruce pretty much every night and even begin to help out a little when something more dangerous goes down (though compared to what they’re used to, this version of Gotham is pretty tame).

Because Jason can’t resist annoying his brothers he fully lays into the dad role, calling them “son” or “sport” whenever he can and delighting in the furious glares he receives in return.

At some point it also becomes clear how much more experience the three of them have compared to Bruce and Dick, who have only been vigilantes for a couple of years at this point, and when this young Bruce openly asks Jason for advice on how to be a good vigilante dad because Jason obviously seems to have more experience than him, Jason doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry.

This young Bruce is still Bruce Wayne with all his faults of course, but he’s also a lot less jaded and world-weary and sad, so Jason gladly gives him some advice that he hopes makes some things better without breaking the entire time-line.

Meanwhile Tim and Damian learn first hand what a menace young Dick Grayson was - he disobeys orders, pulls dangerous stunts, fights in freaking short pants, but gets away with everything because of his puppy-dog-eyes and because Bruce was even more of a pushover back then than he is in their time.

Obviously Bruce and Dick never learn the true identities of their visitors or their connections to them in this time - one day the three of them just don’t show up anymore and when they investigate they find a post-it note in the warehouse where they’d first met them that just says “Gone home. See you some time in the future.” with the three names Arsenal, Drake and Flamebird signed underneath.

“It was pretty fun having other kids to talk to about all of this,” Dick says, sounding subdued as he looks at the note and Bruce knows he will probably regret this, but he just can’t stand to see his son sad.

“I heard Green Arrow has a side-kick now,” Bruce says, trying to sound casual, but the way Dick looks at him with tentative hope just makes his heart melt instantly. He would give this kid the world if he asked for it. “Maybe it would be a good idea to meet them.”

[batologia]

It has always been terribly unwise to leave Helena hanging without an answer. He has learned that she is much like her mother in that aspect: she will pry it out of you, one way or another. It is a trick Bruce has fallen victim too far too many times, stumbling over to appease his daughter each time tears begin to fill her eyes — both the manufactured &&. the authentic — ready to bend his spine until it breaks for her. If only it would mean that she will never have to weep again.

  Bruce is a fool. He has always been. Such is why despite knowing the dangers of ignoring her in favor of his brooding silences, Bruce continues to do so. He does not look up when she approaches him. It is still too shameful: too much like admitting defeat, like confessing that he is still not capable enough to be this — a father, a constant, a hero. The Bat is not a hero. Bruce Wayne is not a hero. But for Helena, for his daughter, he will piece himself together into the semblance of one because every child deserves a father as a hero. But he is failing her. He is hurting her.  

  He cannot make himself smile at her when she mentions the band-aids she used to covet like national treasure, a collection that prioritizes aesthetics over functionality which Bruce can never quite stop her from applying on his wounds anyway. He wants to, but his mouth refuses to cooperate. It gets stuck in between, caught somewhere between his molars &&. his ribs, &&. it aches: all of it aches. He wishes he can give his daughter what she wants from him. He wishes he can say something, he can form his lips into some semblance of a smile, all to appease her.

  Instead, he allows Helena to take his hands in hers. Even now, her hands are small in his: so breakable, so tiny. He knows it isn’t true. He has seen her in action. Helena has the strength to take down anyone who stands in her way. Helena has the capability to tear the world apart if she wants to. His daughter is the last thing from fragile, from helpless. Bruce still thinks that she is breakable: like fine china, like it will only take one wrong move before she crumbles apart in his hands and then he will have to watch, helpless again, as she leaves him, too. He knows she has the strength to. He doesn’t know why Helena hasn’t yet left.

  Her hands are careful as she tends to his wounds, &&. Bruce can only watch. He doesn’t encourage her, but he doesn’t stop her either. He simply sits, quiet &&. indulgent in the only way he knows how to be, &&. he watches her work. This is his daughter. He should be tending to her, not the other way around. It should be his duty to take care of her. It is late, she should be asleep — or pretending to be asleep, or going out with her friends, or sinking into Gotham’s thick smog with a kind of ease that only a proper born &&. bred Gothamite knows how. She shouldn’t be worrying for him. Helena should have never worried for him at all.

  ❛ I’m sorry. ❜ Bruce’s voice is hoarse, as if unused. As if he had not been barking orders into the comms just a few hours ago, before the fall had incapacitated him, before he had to keep his tongue tucked in between his teeth so he doesn’t give away anything. ❛ Thank you.  ❜

“dad?”  brows scrunched in worry as petite figure stood standing, helena was well aware her father he wasn't a man of many words but it's her intuition. she can read him, knows his mannerisms well enough, when he's far too trapped in his own mind. she cares deeply, always has on helping him to come out of the entrapment of his own head and this time... is no different as the anger washes away from her visage & is now replaced with only worry. it disappoints her thinking he thinks he can never rely on her for help, but somewhere, she understands it despite it being irritating when he's risking too much by not asking for her help.

“dad, please?”  speak up this time. “just let me know you're okay, at least.” and then she begins to move, feet trailing over with concern in her mysterious hues when her gaze spots the crimson dotting his palms. fear sinking her heart, just another cruel reminder her dad isn't super human– he is just a man, her father and can be taken away from her so quickly. that's enough to push her anger to the side completely. much smaller hands scoop up her father's bigger ones, scowling at him for not letting her help will come later... but right now, this is more important. observing the damage, it's not as bad as it could be... but it still pains her to see him hurt. “here, i'll take care of these cuts.” helena announces, speaking kindly, “i'll get the glass out, put a little medicine just to make sure they heal properly and of course. not without the hello kitty band-aids, remember?” trying to remind him of those cartoon themed or girly band-aids she always put on his wounds when she was smaller and still keeps them.

[listentothelittlebird]

So I wrote Waterbender Jason Todd and that was a blast (the series is Gotham’s White Lotus!) but I went through a ton of drafts for how Jason got reintegrated into the Batfam - and here’s one of the drafts!

Word Count: 2760 words

I like this one because it’s dramatic :) Enjoy!

(This draft essentially diverges directly after Burning Iceberg - some of the diversions can be seen in the tags!)

An explosion, Oracle’s words quickly filtering into their comms.

“I have eyes on the combustion bender. Looks like he’s still looking to complete his contract.”

Batman’s voice came next, barking an order for Robin to return to the Batcave.

“But-”

“Little bird, you should probably listen to the B-man,” Red Hood jumped in, “Seriously. Lay off this one for all of us, alright?”

Robin huffed, but obeyed.

The explosions followed Robin’s movements until Batman was able to intercept the bender. Red Hood dropped down soon after. Batgirl had taken to accompanying Robin back to the Batcave. Nightwing informed them that he was on his way to Gotham, likely to check up on Robin for his own assurance.

The blasts caused Red Hood to dart to one side, Batman to the other. Before the smoke filling the empty warehouse could clear, a blade was pressed to Jason’s neck.

“Where is my son?” the voice hissed. The Pit was long gone, but that did nothing to quell the snarl that answered the question.

“Nice to see you too, Talia,” Jason spat out. He could guess why Talia had come to Gotham - investigating the new mask that held his build, as well as the absence of one eight-year-old after his most recent mission.

“Where-” the sword dug deeper, “-is. My. Son.”

“Where do you think?” Jason snarked, “C’mon, Tals, you can’t be that much of an idiot. Detective it out yourself.”

Talia growled. ���You poisoned my child’s thoughts,” Talia murmured darkly, “If not for you, Damian would have completed his mission successfully, and been ever closer to becoming a satisfactory Heir. I should have recognised your meddling from the start.”

Jason chuckled. The smoke was clearing, now, and from the comms, it seemed that Batman was apprehending the combustion bender. He hoped Oracle could hear him and had alerted the others.

“You kept Damian from his father,” Jason stated evenly, “The least I could do was tell the kid about his Dad and his brothers. You know, the brothers you never told him about? Not to mention his sister, too.”

“He is the blood-son.”

“He is the youngest son, and you’re gonna have to get through me and the rest of us if you so much as think of hiding him away again.”

Batman dropped down in front of them. Talia’s sword was still dangerously close to his neck, digging in slightly, nearly drawing blood.

“Back away from the Hood, Talia,” Batman growled, “This is between you and me.”

Talia stilled.

“You haven’t told him,” Talia realised.

Shit.

The sword was humming, growing warmer. Jason could feel the heat on his skin.

“You told me you wanted revenge. You told me you wanted your replacement gone,” Talia was on a roll, now, grasping greedily for control, “You told me you wanted him to pay. For not avenging you. For leaving The Joker walking.”

Jason shuddered at the mention of the Rogue. He could feel Talia’s shark-like grin at his neck.

“A shame,” she tutted, “You realised, didn’t you? That he never cared for you. No wonder you have yet to tell him the truth.”

Batman took a stuttering step forward. Jason tried to control his breathing, the blade heating up enough to burn. She was trying to get under his skin. Trying to…

Jason made sure to inject rage and malice into his next words, “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, Talia.”

Underneath his jacket was a flask of water for emergencies.

“Oh?” Talia hummed menacingly, “And what may that be?”

Jason moved, breaking out of the hold. The sword flared into flames.

The jet of water knocked Talia back several paces, but not before she could take a slash at his helmet. The material melted into his lenses, and Jason cursed, ripping off the helmet just in time to block her blade with an ice-coated arm.

“The spirits. That was you.”

“Bingo. Looks like the Pit didn’t melt out your brains.”

Jason met the flurry of attacks steadily, bending the broken ice into water blasts and back to ice once more, dodging the flames and ignoring the singed marks on his clothes.

Another explosion. Jason’s gaze darted just enough to see that the combustion bender had returned, hands bound but still conscious.

“I should have never helped you,” Talia stated, a tone of finality, “It’s only right I bury you again.”

A bout of flames aimed for his face, forcing Jason to roll backwards, just out of reach. By the time he got back to his feet, Talia was standing beside the combustion bender, who was already in stance. Another explosion sounded, right above him.

Jason only had time to curl up and erect a crystal of ice around him before the warehouse roof fell.

He could taste the smoke on his lips, the dust of wood and cement. He waited one, two seconds, straining against the weight of the building against the ice, before digging into his jacket, pulling out a small comms unit and stuffing it into his ear.

“-you hear me? Hood!” Oracle was yelling.

“I’m under the warehouse,” Jason gasped out, coughing up the smoke and dirt and dust, “I’m- I’m underneath. I- please. Please get me out. Fuck.”

He was trembling. The ice creaked, painfully loud in the silence. 

“I can’t-” his lips moved without his permission, “-can’t do this again. Shit. I- don’t make me do this again.”

Distantly, he registered that his voice was no longer modulated, like it was in his helmet.

“I found him,” came Batman’s grunt, and if Jason had enough space within the ice, he would have keeled over in relief. The soil beneath him rumbled, but Jason had long come to associate this specific tremble with earthbending. The earth opened, and Jason gasped as he dropped into the ditch, which closed and engulfed him in darkness.

“B?” Jason whispered, the sound echoing. He was vaguely aware of someone approaching him as his breath quickened.

“It’s me, Hood,” Batman’s voice sounded, and Jason sobbed.

“I- shit. Shit.”

“It’s alright,” Batman soothed, “It’s-”

Batman cut himself off, coming to a stop just in front of where Jason was on his hands and knees, desperately trying to quell his panicked breathing.

A hand on his shoulder pulled him into an upright position on his knees. Jason flinched as a flashlight was shined on his face, then gulped audibly as Batman visibly jolted back in shock. The light stayed trained on his face, even as Batman reached out slowly, as if scared he would disappear. His hand first found Jason’s arm, then his neck, pressing to his pulse, and then reached to his face, peeling off the red domino mask with a fragile touch.

A beat passed, where Jason stared into Batman’s cowl, desperately waiting for a reaction.

“Batman, what’s Hood’s status?” came through the comms.

“Jason?” he whispered. He tugged off his cowl, and Bruce’s eyes shone with flickering hope and brokenness. 

Jason sucked in gulps of air in between his hitched breaths, enough for him to rasp out one word, “Dad.”

The light moved away from his face, a black gauntlet grasping tightly onto his arm, nearly bruising in its grip, pulling him roughly forward. Jason lost his balance, tipping straight into a tight hug that knocked the breath out of him, just as it knocked the first tears loose.

“Dad,” he whispered again, the grip around him tightening somehow, “Dad.”

“Jason,” Bruce returned just as reverently, “Oh, son, why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I’m-” Jason sobbed, gasping, “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know… how… how to tell you. Didn’t know what to say. I-”

Bruce shushed him quietly, and Jason dissolved into tears in his father’s arms.

-

“Jason?” Bruce had whispered, and then the words through the comms were too muffled to make out.

“Batman? Batman, are you there?” Dick tried again, sharing another concerned look with Tim. Bruce had gone silent, save for words that were too hard for them to make out. Cass placed a steadying hand on Dick’s shoulder, a silent sign of support.

“Tune into Red Hood’s comms,” Oracle chimed abruptly. Dick frowned, but did as told. 

“-Dad,” the voice, unmodulated for the first time, cracked with emotion, and the two brothers froze. The voice bordered on familiarity, despite the lower tones and faint rasp. 

Damian, who had been inattentive to the audio up until that point, straightened abruptly from where he had been scrutinising a batarang. He was by their side in moments, focused intently on the blank screen of the Batcomputer as if it could provide him the answers of the universe. Cass looked on with narrowed eyes, picking up the tension in their stances, tension for different reasons.

“I’m sorry,” was heard, dissolving into incoherent phrases that were shushed by another voice. Bruce, Dick’s brain supplied. That was Bruce comforting Red Hood- comforting-

“I’m not hearing things, am I?” Dick’s voice trembled, humour falling flat. Tim’s face was pinched beside him, vaguely pale, likely mirroring his own. 

Beside them, Damian breathed deeply, in and out, and turned to them with a determined tilt to his frown.

“The brother I mentioned before,” Damian started, snapping Dick’s attention towards him, “The one who told me about the zoo, about hugs. He told me about you as well, Grayson.”

Damian met his eye with only a flicker of hesitation. “He told me you loved hugs, and other forms of physical affection. He told me you once ate a box of cereal and started doing cartwheels down the hallway. He said you taught him how to fly, and how to fall.”

“Prepare the medbay for smoke inhalation,” Batman’s voice intoned. Alfred had appeared on the steps to the Manor, already making his way towards the medical supplies. Tim and Cass shared a look, and followed.

“Jason Todd,” Dick blurted, Tim’s steps faltering, Cass freezing. Something clattered out of Alfred’s always-steady hands. “The brother you’re talking about. Is his name Jason Todd?”

Damian’s gaze, still wary and too-old from his childhood training, nodded with conviction.

-

Alfred paused at the bedside, taking a moment to stare at the absolute miracle in front of him, sleeping peacefully with the same expression he had once seen on a small malnourished boy. He had just managed to convince Master Bruce to wash up before staying vigil by Master Jason’s side, and Alfred was quietly glad for the moment to allow himself the time to take in Master Jason’s aged appearance.

Alfred rested a hand on Jason’s head, and allowed himself an indulgent brush through the young man’s hair, the tuft of white hair tangled into his raven hair. 

“My dear boy,” Alfred whispered, “Words cannot describe how glad I am, to see you alive.”

Master Jason twitched slightly, eyes flitting open just enough to take in Alfred’s face. A small smirk made its way to his lips, a greeting as much as it was a sign of his relief. Master Jason hummed out something intelligible, but Alfred shushed the boy, and his eyes easily slid shut once more.

-

Jason jolted awake with a gasp.

“Jay,” came a soft rumble, “Jaylad. You’re okay. It’s okay.”

Jason flitted his gaze over the room, cataloguing everything he could see in the dim lighting, before familiarity met him with sudden certainty. His gaze drifted over to the speaker.

“It’s okay,” Bruce repeated softly, guiding Jason back to lying against the pillow.

“B-” Jason grimaced at his dry throat, “Bruce?”

Bruce offered him a cup of water. Jason squinted at it and lifted his hand, but Bruce’s hand lowered it before the water could so much as ripple. “No bending in the Manor,” Bruce huffed, his lips twitching into a small smile, “Alfred would have your head in no time.” Jason huffed a laugh as the cup was pressed into his hand.

When the cup had been emptied, Jason cast another glance over the room. It was Bruce’s bedroom, Bruce on a chair beside the bed, Jason in the bed, now propped up against the headboard.

“The bender,” Jason started, turning to eye Bruce, subconsciously checking for injuries. He had a nasty-looking bruise on his arm, but otherwise looked alright. 

“He got away,” Bruce stated, “With Talia.” Bruce paused, visibly reigning himself in, settling for, “Jason… I have many questions.”

“I’m sure you do,” Jason agreed with a cringe, “There’s… a lot to cover.”

He blinked then, perking up once more, “Damian. Can I see Damian?”

“Talia let you meet him,” Bruce guessed. Jason nodded distractedly, shuffling himself out of the covers and inching towards the edge of the bed. He paused to sniff the baggy shirt he was wearing, and blinked at Bruce. “Am I wearing your clothes?”

“You are,” Bruce confirmed, lip ticked up in amusement. There was a concerned glint in his eyes as Jason stood up, swaying through a head-rush. Bruce’s hands stuttered towards him, but hesitated. Jason took the initiative and wrapped his arms tightly around Bruce, and Bruce hugged him back just as firmly.

“Damian’s having breakfast with the others,” Bruce spoke softly, “Are you… ready to see them? Or would you rather me bring Damian up alone?”

Jason hesitated. 

“I kind of owe them all answers, don’t I? Let’s just get it over and done with. Rip it off like a band-aid.”

Bruce hummed, lingering in the hug for a long moment before finally letting his arms go loose. Jason pulled away with a small smile, Bruce brushing a hand over his face with an overly tender expression.

There was vague scuffling coming from the kitchen.

“Quick, grab the coffee, Dami!” Dick hollered with a laugh, easily swiping Tim into the air and holding him over his shoulder. Tim twisted with a feral kick at Dick’s face, which he easily dodged by maneuvering until Tim’s arms were pinned and his legs stuck out too far to hit anything substantial. 

“Be careful, Masters,” Alfred called from where he was dealing with their pancakes, not once looking up to acknowledge the play-fighting.

Cassandra was watching from the side, the only one to acknowledge Bruce and Jason as they walked in, giving them a smile and a wave. She stepped towards Bruce first, pulling him into a short hug, and did the same for Jason. Jason froze unsurely, but Cassandra smiled into his collar and giggled. “Cass,” she murmured, pulling away to beam, “Hello, brother.”

Jason returned the smile tentatively. “Hello, sister,” he offered, Cass’ smile stretching wider. Bruce looked ready to burst with emotion.

Tim whined and slumped over in Dick’s grip as Damian, on Dick’s encouraging nod, poured away the coffee into the sink, “This is unfair! Absolutely unfair! It’s only been a week and I’m already suffering from middle-child syndrome. Unfair.”

Jason snuck up on Dick and pounced, tipping them both to the ground and grabbing Tim out of Dick’s hold. “Middle children have to stick together,” Jason nodded sagely, grinning widely as Tim stared down at him dazedly, from where he had ended up sprawled on top of him.

“Jay!” Dick chirped brightly, and Jason grunted as the older boy flopped on top of them both, “You’re awake!”

“Get off, Dickhead!” Jason managed to roll out from under him. One thing led to another, and suddenly Jason had himself wrapped in a Dick Grayson Hug that was definitely not stopping anytime soon. That was about the time he met Damian’s eye, and he gave the boy a warm smile.

“What did I tell you, Baby Bat?” he drawled, rolling his eyes and gesturing to Dick’s arms, “Dickie loves hugs. Can’t get away from him even if you tried.”

“Damn right,” Dick hummed happily, squeezing briefly, “You run now and I’ll hunt you down and hug you for even longer.”

Jason gave an answering pat to Dick’s shoulder in acknowledgement. To Damian, he shook his head in mock-annoyance. Damian stepped forward, then, and folded himself against Jason’s other side. Jason curled his arm around the boy, and Damian shoved himself more firmly against his side.

“Your eyes aren’t green,” Damian whispered. 

“No, they’re not,” Jason agreed, “I… it’s a long story, but I managed to get rid of the Pit rage, and got my bending back, while I was at it.”

“We have time,” Tim pointed out, settling himself on the ground in front of the small pile of pressed-together bodies, “I don’t think you’ll be extracting yourself from Dick anytime soon, either.”

Jason huffed, smiling softly. “I’ll start from the beginning, then.”

[writinggarbage007]

The Captain’s Assistant

Chapter 5

Steve Rogers x dark! reader, Avengers x dark! Reader

Summary: After 3 years as Cap's assistant and being treated like nothing, you are captured by Hydra and everything changes.

Warnings: Swearing, dark themes, abduction, torture, cannon level violence, threats of sexual assault. Murder. Mayhem.

Will update warnings on each chapter.

Slight AU

3 months, 5 days and roughly 18 hours after abduction

The steady drip, drip, drip from the leak in your cell told you it was raining again. The last few months have been a nightmare of injections that made you sick and torture that the doctor keeps saying will unlock powers. You didn’t know if that was true but they had better pray to whatever vicious god made them that you didn’t get anything similar to Wanda. You'd level this place.

You heard the door squeak open. You wanted to laugh because they finally oiled the door. You wouldn’t though. After 6 injections of the dark red solution the doctor had moved on. Glowing blue followed. Then a toxic looking green.

When none of them had seemed to work they began the torture. Brock seemed to take pleasure in the beatings. You were pretty sure you were going to kill that piece of shit first.

The guy with the sandy blond hair enjoyed knives. You called him Astor the dickless. He had littered you with little slices trying to get you to scream. When you refused to comply he beat you until you couldn't stand. He would definitely be second to die.

They had tried heat, cold and electricity. They had been threatening to rape you daily for the last few weeks, but after whispered arguments with the doctor it had become clear he had other plans.

The last test subject had died. You were told that while the doctor handed you pills he said were vitamins. They barely fed you or gave you water. The only time they let you shower was when you were covered in blood.

As the team of assholes walked down the stone steps you felt something shift inside you. You moved to the back corner of your cell into the shadows and instinctively closed your eyes. It was as if your fear and rage were coming together to protect you.

"Come on pretty lady", Brock said putting the key in the lock." Or intel says the superhero squad is heading this way so we have to move.'

Looking in the cell he cursed."Where the hell is she?" He asked his men.

You stood confused for a moment the realized they couldn't see you. You moved cautiously toward the cell door. Still no one reacted as they searched the cells, calling the doctor on their comms.

When you were standing right next to Astor you eased a knife from his thigh holster. He didn't react. Slinking along the cell doors you got to where Brock was barking orders. Plunging the knife into his stomach felt so good you took it out and did it again. You whispered to him as he fell to the floor. "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Stab in and thrust up."

They men rushed to him as he fell but your goal was standing back looking confused. Astor the dickless never saw you coming as you slit his throat and left him in your cell to bleed out.

Taking his gun you shot the other guards twice each. Taking another gun and a few clips you headed for the stairs. At the top you turned left and headed to the heart of the castle. The doctor was talking rapidly in a language you didn't understand on his phone.

The shot to the head seemed to etch permanent surprise on his face. You almost laughed as you began to search for supplies. You needed to get out of here before The Avengers showed up. You needed time to figure out the power and how you were going to get revenge on them.

Revenge was sweet. As you slipped out a side door you looked at the phone you'd stolen. You were in the mountains of Virginia. In a castle? People were weird.

When The Avengers arrived at a transported castle in the Appalachian mountains they went in quietly. They searched and found no one alive. They took the hard drives and security footage. All the doctor's notes.

They were concerned when they got to the dungeon. You weren't here and the men were dead.

"Who got the drop on them?" Natasha asked looking around. "It doesn't even look like any of them tried to defend himself. Could she have done this?."

Wanda was standing in the doorway of your cell, eyes glowing red. She let out a breath and stepped back.

"There is so much rage in this room." She said looking at Steve with a frown.

"Let's hope she escaped." He replied trying to sound confident. Inside he knew there was no way you could have done this if the doctor's experiments hadn't worked.

"Capcicle I've scanned the doctor. He's been dead less than 2 hours."Tony's voice cut into his thoughts.

"Let's search the area. She may be hiding nearby after she escaped." Sam's voice came through the comms.

"Ok team. Our rescue mission rescued her self. Let's find her and get her home." Steve said heading for the stairs. "Nat, call Fury and give him an update. We're going to need more boots on the ground. For now, Tony get Friday to scan the area. Bucky searches the grounds of the castle. Wanda and Nat after talking to Fury search everything in this place. We don't know that she ran out. Sam fly over the area to see if you find anything that can help. I'll head back to the jet and see if Bruce can make heads or tails of these formulas"

As everyone took off in different directions to search Steve Rogers couldn't shake the feeling there was something bad following him.

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Our Doll 8//fighting in the sky

B.Barnes x S.Rogers, B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

Series Synopsis | After the events of the horrific past, y/n Stark, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes have finally admitted their feelings for each other. But is life as an avenger whilst dating two super soldiers any easier than anything y/n’s experienced in the past?

sequel Series to Their Doll

Series Warnings | smut, violence, torture, swearing, threesomes, drug usage/substance abuse

Chapter Summary | the Sokovia fight ends a little...differently.

Warnings | violence, blood, bullet wounds, death, swearing

A/n | This is a sequel book/series to my fic Their Doll! This book loosely follows the mcu timeline, starting in CAWS in book one and starting just before AOU in this book. Bucky had been recovered and is safe, and Peter was taken under Tony's wing when he was much younger.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Bucky was still on the floor, y/n crouched at his side with a hand cupping his cheek and a concerned look dancing across her eyes. She'd got him propped against a table leg nearby as he'd groaned and winced with pain, flesh hand covering the wound in his shoulder as his breathing got heavier.

Whilst y/n made a fuss, the argument continued and got heated. But she refused to leave him, so much so that when Steve tried to check on them she told him to deal with Tony and that she had Bucky. Or even when Thor arrived, ready to set her dad's plan in motion, of which he did. So now, there was a floating, living computer less than two meters away as Bruce tended to the wound.

They were going to find Ultron tomorrow. Save the world, etc etc. But for now, y/n was much to concerned for her boyfriend who she knew would've healed completely by the end of the hour. Steve knelt down beside her, taking a hold of y/n's free hand and placing a gentle kiss to it before offering her a smile.

"How're you doin', buck?" Steve said softly, looking into the super soldier's cerulean eyes. The brunet offered him a small smile, lips tugging up.

"I'm doin' okay, Stevie." He hummed, before his lips were smothered in a sweet kiss. Y/n still felt a tingle of warmth run down her spine every time she saw them kiss. It was passionate, despite lacking lust in the current situation, and still made a weak pang of arousal crawl down y/n's spine.

"I love you two, so much." Bruce had retreated by this point, so only y/n, Bucky, and Steve were left sat on the floor. Both men before her smiled widely, and Steve leant to give y/n a kiss to the forehead.

"We love you too." Bucky said, and y/n nodded with a tear in her eye. "We'll survive this; we always do."

...

When the cobbles began splintering, and the ground began shaking, and the buildings began crumbling, all I could do was gasp. Sharp and quiet, the sound barely reaching the ears of those around me as I froze in place from where I'd been ushering a group of children towards the bridge.

We'll survive this; we always do.

Then followed the screams. Shock, fear, pain. The beeping of cars, shattering of glass, clanging of metal, thudding off rubble. Even as those around me fussed - backed away from the edge - I stayed frozen. Eyes locked on the earth we were leaving behind, ears perked at the sound of snapping metal and breaking rock. We were going up, and there was nothing we could do about it.

"Sokovia's going for a ride." FRIDAY's voice echoed through the comm, but the words barely fell on my ears as I remained locked, paralysed.

"Y/n!" Sam's voice ripped me from my trance, his slender arms wrapping over my shoulder as he knocked me down just in time. We rolled onto the floor, his wings breaking our fall against the stone and cocooning us. The sound of an explosion pulled my head up, Clint stood facing us with his bow out - no arrow loaded.

My eyes drifted then, settling on the shards of metal around us and I figured out what happened.

"T-thanks." I mumbled, grabbing Clint's hand as he offered it.

"No problem. Now get you're head in the game, y/n. We're really gonna need all the help we can get." Sam replied, expanding his wings again before he was in the sky above us.

"You okay?" Clint asked, brown quirked. I brushed my arms off, nodding slowly to the man. "Okay."

I sighed out in relief, kicking at the metal before me before shaking my head and putting on a brave face. I took off, running towards a scream I'd heard.

"Stark you worry about bringing the city back down safely," Steve's voice rang in my ear, "the rest of us have one job: tear these things apart. You get hurt, hurt 'em back. You get killed, walk it off." I let off a laugh, pulling a knife from it's sheath at my thing and raising my arm, pressing the blade into the robot's head and smiling at the cracklings sound of it shutting down.

"Nice speech, Stevie." I chortled through a smirk and Bucky chuckled. The woman before me strangled away and I watched after her before taking off again.

"Is he always so bossy on missions?" Bucky pondered and Sam's laugh could be heard through my earpiece.

"Yes he is." The Falcon sighed, and I could tell Steve was rolling his eyes with that ridiculous, toothy smirk.

"Remind me to punish you when I get home. Both of you." Steve sneered playfully and Tony gagged. Nat laughed.

"Ew. Please don't talk about your sex lives through the comms." Clint jeered disgustedly.

"Whatever you say, Captain." I smirked and Bucky chuckled again.

It was awhile before anyone spoke again, all wrapped up in crushing the robots. By now I'd found Bucky, and we fought back-to-back as Sam and Rhodey cleared the skies. Bucky held a gun in hand, shooting mercilessly at the gadgets as I threw knife after knife, never even missing once.

"Hey, Doll?" Bucky shouted over the noise as I sent another knife flying into a head.

"Yeah?" I called back, letting out a grunt as I rolled out the way of a bullet.

"D'ya think your powers work on these things?" Bucky asked again, turning around and shooting the one that still had its sights on me.

"Thanks. And I don't know, I haven't tried."

"Well maybe now is about time!" I heard steve voice through the comm again. That when I started to hum, that unfamiliar, dangerous tune. Bucky froze in space, gun lowered at we marvelled at the convulsing robots around us. Their heads crackled as spurts of electricity danced around them, before they all simtaneously exploded, pieces of flaming metal sent spinning through the air.

Bucky pulled me into him, crouching down and shielding us with his metal arm as a few stray pieces were sent towards us.

"Well, I'd say it works." Bucky mumbled through a laugh and I joined him, both of us straightening up and running in the direction of where steve was.

"So it works?" Pietro called down the comm, and I shared a look with Bucky.

"It fuckin's works." Bucky smirked before I interjected.

"Kind of. If people are in the vicinity they may get hurt. I'd only be able to use it on a good enough scale if we evacuate this thing." I said and Tony scoffed.

"What do you think we've been doing?" There was a silence again after that.

...

"Hey Steve!" Bucky yelled, waving the to blonde super soldier as he turned around from where he was stood beside Nat.

"Glad you like the view Romanoff. It's about to get better." I came to a halt at the sound of Fury's voice in my ear. Bucky stopped beside me, both of us only a few feet behind Nat and Steve as the whirring of Bucky's arm filled the silence.

Then we saw it. The ship rose gracefully through the clouds, big and glorious and full of the promise of victory.

"Fury you son of a bitch." Steve clipped and I heard Bucky's low chuckle from beside me.

"Oooh, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" I found myself laughing to at Fury's comment.

"This is SHIELD?" Pietro asked, entranced as he walked up beside us.

"This is what SHIELD is supposed to be." Steve affirmed and Pietro's smile just grew wider.

"This is not so bad." The lifeboats began landing, pulling up to the edge of the rock before Steve was barking orders down the Comm again.

"Let's load 'em up." So that's what we did.

...

It was so close. We were so close. Barley any civilians remained, the last of them just getting onto the last of the lifeboats at the moment. The plan to take out Ultron was in play.

Me, Pietro and Clint were the only avengers in the area, about to get on life boats ourselves when a woman began begging and crying.

"Her son isn't here. We need to find him." Clint mumbled quickly as he walked passed me, hand wrapping a round my bicep and pulling me with him.

"Well where could he be? We've looked everywhere!" I explained in a whisper, eyes wide with fear. I didn't like the idea of anyone dying by our hands, besides those horrid, evil robots.

"I don't know, just-" Clint cut himself off, his jittery eyes landing on the boy as he struggled and shouted for help. "Wait here."

And with that Clint was sprinting off, leaving me stood only a few feet from the edge as Pietro made sure everyone else was safely on the lifeboat.

"Shit." I murmured, reaching for a dagger, but my fumbling hand couldn't find one as I say the robot stagger towards Clint and the boy. "Clint!" I shouted, finally finding a knife sheathed in my back pocket and letting it slide from my hand, the rigid metal burying itself in the thing's skull. It shut down immediately, dropping to the floor. Clint raised an arm in thanks, quickly turning back to the boy to lift him up.

I found myself laying behind a nearby piece of rumble before I could make sense of it, winded and groaning as I peered over at the sound of the gunfire.

Where had it come from? The last of them should be dead now. My thought were racing, horrified. But it didn't compare to my disjointed scream. The blood staining Pietro's back was seeping, leaking onto his shirt as he swayed, his faint voice making the sob catch in my throat.

"You didn't see that coming?" My eyes drifted to the sky, the ship nearly out of my reach and the bottled, bubbling anger surfaced again. Only this time, I didn't let it simmer back down again.

We'll survive this; we always do.

The sound that tore from me could barely be described as a hum, let alone a song as the pained sound channelled through me.

You didn't see that coming?

A burst of light, a spark that set fire into a rapid succession of aguish; agony. A wave that knocked everyone to their feet, pushing Steve back as he ran towards Clint, who was hunted over Pietro's limp body.

Don't turn your back on me!

Lifeless, the bodies that sunk into the seats behind me enticed gasps from Clint as he slowly stood, eyes locked on the sight over my shoulder.

I love you two, so much.

I turned with a horrified, disgruntled noise. One of shock, pain, fear, guilt, dread all mixed into one horrid, ugly noise.

Ultron has won.

And maybe he has, because the sight before me  was not one of victory. He had succeeded in some form, no doubt. The wing of grey soaring past me causing me eyes to narrow, and my heart to shatter.

This is what SHIELD is supposed to be.

Taglists

Bucky Barnes Series/mini Series | @buckysgirl101 @quxxnxfhxll

Steve Rogers Series/mini Series | @buckysgirl101 @quxxnxfhxll

Join my taglist now! Uh

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Reunion

Jason Todd & Damian Wayne (Corvid AU)

Word Count: 1109

Summary: Reunions are sometimes pretty sweet.

He was out of town when it all went down, but he’d have to be dead again in order to have not heard about ‘Bruce Wayne’s Biologicals Son Coming Out of the Woodwork’ and the whole snafu in Gotham that’d followed. A smile crept its way onto Jason’s face as he entered city limits. If Damian was here, it was likely you weren’t far behind. His little hellion family would be reunited soon enough

First though, he had to reestablish his hold on Crime Ally now that he was back . . .

~

As fate would have it (or rather, as Oracle’s stalker-like knack for tracking the batfam would have it), Jason found Bruce waiting for him next to his favorite gargoyle right as he was about to call it a night.

“Old man,” he greeted, hand falling to the gun at his hip just in case this turned ugly.

“Jason.”

Wow, my real name. He’s gotta be freaking out more than I thought.

“Come by the manor tomorrow. You need to meet your brother.”

“Why? Tim not up to it?” Jason’s mouth was running despite the fact that he was definitely going to be there. “Or did the brat already get Dickhead to back off? I heard he’s feral even compared to me.”

Bruce’s jaw clenched, bringing a smile to Jason’s covered face. “He wants to meet you.”

“He looked you up after he hacked into the Batcomputer,” Barbara’s voice came through the helmet’s speakers before Jason could voice his confusion.

“First a kid steals your tires, now one breaks into your super-secret files. What kind of riff-raff are you letting into the manor these days, Brucie?”

“Dinner. Tomorrow. Be there.”

Jason snickered at the tightness of Batman’s voice as the caped vigilante dove into the night. “Fucking tool,” he muttered to the empty air.

“You really shouldn’t antagonize him, Hood.”

“And you really need to get off my comms before I have Roy download all sorts of horse porn onto your rig.”

There was a quiet chuckle. “Missed you too, Jason.”

Right. Now to bed.

~

He’s taller, was all Jason could think as he stepped into the cave and laid on the boy he’d helped raise for years that was now standing right in front of him. The change in height hadn’t changed the kid, though, based on the tense excitement that had Damian practically vibrating.

A flicker of movement to the side--Bruce skulking about--gave Jason pause. As subtle as he could, he shook his head and zipped through the League Sign Language for, “Safehouse. Tonight.”

Outwardly, Damian didn’t acknowledge him, but a veil of false calm dropped over the boy, stilling his movements. Talia would be proud. “You must be the dead one,” his lightly-accented voice greeted coldly.

They must be trying to hide his real heritage, thought Jason in response to that smothered accent. Shame. “Bold talk from a kid that had to be moved to fucking Gotham of all places for protection.”

“Boys!” Bruce’s bark announced his arrival into earshot.

“Oh relax, Brucie,” Jason soothed sarcastically with an easy smile as he ruffled his adopted son’s hair, much to the kid’s mock-disdain. “We’re just messin’ around.”

“Still. Enough. Both of you get upstairs; your brothers are waiting for you.”

“Oh joy. The mean Robins get to meet with the happy one and the depressed one.”

“Damian isn’t Robin.”

“Not yet,” Damian snapped. “It’s my right as--”

“You’re not doing anything until you learn to follow the Rule.”

Damian’s silence spoke volumes about his thoughts on that Rule.

~

Jason was on the roof of his apartment building waiting for Damian come midnight that same night. He had no doubt the kid could slip through any defenses Bruce had constructed with the intent to cage him, and Jason had slid a note with the address into his pocket earlier. Now it was just a matter of--Nevermind. Speak of the Devil.

The kid stumbled during his landing because of the obvious excitement that coursed through him. “Baba!” he shouted as he tackled Jason in a tight hug.

“Hey, Dami,” Jason greeted, the first genuine smile he’d had in months blooming on his face. “It’s been a while.”

“Whose fault is that, asshole?” the kid snapped even though he didn’t loosen his grip in the slightest. 

A chuckle bubbled up from Jason’s chest. “Your mama would be pissed if she heard you talkin’ like that.”

“Yeah, pissed at you.” His face was still buried in Jason’s stomach due to the hug. Not that Jason wanted to let him go any time soon.

“Good point,” he admitted.

Those big, green eyes--so similar to the Pit without him having to take a dip in it--turned to look up at him. “Why didn’t you want Father to know we’ve met before?”

At that, Jason sighed. “I don’t know if you’ve been around long enough to have figured it out, but dear old Dad doesn’t exactly like me. I don’t want him judging you for me having ‘tainted’ you or something.”

“I am not ashamed--”

“Neither am I, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re still my kid. God knows it’d kill Bruce to show anyone any affection, so someone’s gotta treat you right.”

If possible, the hug got tighter. “I’ve read his files on you, and I won’t ask why Father doesn’t like you.”

Damn if the kid wasn’t freakishly perceptive, because Jason had been dreading answering that question. Because I’m not Dick, because I’m a street rat to the core, because I think for myself instead of blindly following his orders, because I’m too angry, because I got myself blown the fuck up--

“But know that I also don’t care. You and mama were there for me.” Damian didn’t bother to add ‘when no one else was.’

“Love you too, Dami. This place will always be here if you want to get away from the manor . . . or just want to see me.”

“Thank you, Baba.”

Now, Jason crouched so he could meet Damian eye-to-eye. “And don’t worry about your Mama.” The kid looked away abruptly as if he’d been caught. Jason gently directed Damian’s attention back to his face so he could see just how serious Jason was. “My friends are already looking for her. We’re going to find her.”

The kid scoffed despite the relief scrawled all over his face. “As if you could if she didn’t want you to.”

Jason barked a laugh. “True, but both of us are here now. Do you really think she’d want to stay away?”

“ . . . No.”

Good, ‘cause she showed up earlier tonight, and now I just need to convince her that you won’t reject her.

[hale-13]

Airway

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 29 Prompt - Control

The only real drawback of the current iteration of his suit, Peter thought, was its lack of air filtration. With the tools and workshop space that Mr. Stark provided him with Peter was able to make a Spidey suit that was top of the line in every aspect except for the ventilation; for all intents and purposes Peter was really just breathing through high tech spandex. The tightly woven fabric did, minimally, protect him from inhaling smoke and other harmful chemicals but not enough.

Words: 2407, Chapters: 1/1 (complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, Bruce Banner

TW: Medical Procedures, Panic

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

The only real drawback of the current iteration of his suit, Peter thought, was its lack of air filtration. With the tools and workshop space that Mr. Stark provided him with Peter was able to make a Spidey suit that was top of the line in every aspect except for the ventilation; for all intents and purposes Peter was really just breathing through high tech spandex. The tightly woven fabric did, minimally, protect him from inhaling smoke and other harmful chemicals but not enough.

Which is what landed him in his current situation of sitting with his mask pulled up to the bridge of his nose and an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth as he took shallow, wheezing breaths.

The apartment fire that he had responded to still had a surprisingly large number of people stuck in hard to reach places that left Peter exposed longer than he would have liked. His throat felt like it was on fire and his lungs felt tight the way they used to feel when he had an asthma attack. The fire fighter that had passed him the oxygen mask earlier crouched down in front of him with a worried look on her ash stained face.

“I still think you should let us take you to the hospital,” she said worriedly as she adjusted the flow of oxygen. Peter shook his head..

“I’m good,” he croaked, trying not to wince at just how destroyed his voice sounded and display as much confidence as he could. She still looked dubious.

“Is there anyone you can stay with tonight?” She pressed. “You shouldn’t be alone just in case.”

“I’’ll be okay,” he promised, removing the oxygen mask and pulling his own down to cover his face. It immediately became harder to breathe and he regretted giving up the clean air but he knew if he didn’t get out of there soon he would have a much bigger problem. “Thanks for the help!” He called as he swung out, his breathing becoming more labored as he webbed away.

His HUD fizzed out for a second before directing to the Tower and Peter rolled his eyes at Karen but obliged. May was working a late shift and Peter did feel pretty shitty. It probably wouldn’t hurt to hang around the Tower with its fully stocked and staffed MedBay for the evening. He had to stop a few times on his way to catch his breath but he made it to the landing pad with few issues.

“You stink,” Tony greeted him as he walked in, pulling his ashy mask off his face and letting it drop on one of the many end tables. “You committing arson now?”

“Ha ha,” Peter said hoarsely with a slight cough as he ventured into the kitchen to Fran a bottle of water to gulp down. Tony narrowed his eyes over his cup of coffee in judgement and concern.

“Karen said they put you on oxygen,” he said accusingly and Peter groaned and dropped his forehead to rest on the cool counter top, taking aborted breaths through his mouth. The smell of smoke still on his suit was making it hard to take deep breaths in.

“Only for a couple minutes,” Peter answered, coughing again and taking another swig of water.

“Go take a shower,” his mentor ordered. “Leave your suit in your room and I’ll send it down to FRI for deep cleaning although at this point it might be worth it to just toss it and start again from scratch.”

“But I just broke it in,” Peter whined, trudging off to the room Tony had set aside for his use. He may be right though – smoke was a notoriously hard stench to get out of fabric.

The hot water felt heavenly on his skin and Peter spent probably too long under the strong spray but, unfortunately, his chest still felt tight and heavy when he got out. He paused in front of the mirror, trying to take deep, even inhales and he squinted his eyes in confusion. He had helped out on a few burning buildings and had never felt this way before. Deciding he probably just needed some rest, Peter left the bathroom and joined Mr. Stark back out in the common room.

He only got about halfway through his soup and an episode of The Office before he passed out, head leaned back against the cushions.

——————————————

The room was lit only by the glow of the projector when Peter woke up unable to breathe.

He gasped and flailed as he woke up, smacking Mr. Stark in the face and causing him to yelp as he tried to inhale through what felt like a straw. “Lights up to fifty,” Mr. Stark barked out and Peter snapped his eyes closed against the blue-toned overhead lights snapping on over him. “Fuck Peter,” his mentor said, scrambling of the couch and scooping Peter up in his arms.

Peter felt dizzy and his vision was spotted with black dots as he was carried to the elevator. He could hear his mentor yelling something but couldn’t comprehend what was being said as he lifted one shaky hand up to clutch at his, now swollen, neck and he could feel panic bubbling up in him.

‘Don’t black out,’ he told himself as he tried to calm down and even out his breathing. ‘It’s fine. You’re fine.’

“Bruce!” Tony shouted as he deposited Peter on, what must have been, a bed in one of the exam rooms in the Tower MedBay. “He can’t breathe!”

An oxygen mask was shoved over Peter’s face but it did little to help him but he gripped it with a weak hand anyway, gasping into it and squinting his eye open. “Hey Peter,” Dr. Banner said in his usual calm voice, raising the bed up so Peter was sitting and grabbing a light and a tongue depressor. “I need you to open your mouth for me.”

Peter shakily nodded and dropped the mask to open his mouth, gagging on the tongue depressor and swaying a little at the loss of the little oxygen he was getting. Bruce swore and placed the mask back over Peter’s face, pressing a blue button on the wall and lowering Peter back to lie flat. “His airway is closing!”

“What!” Tony said, panicked and grabbing Peter’s hand to squeeze as the room burst to life with medical professionals. A nurse grabbed him and bodily pulled him from the room as he yelled for answers. Peter could feel his own panic bubbling up in his gut but he also felt like he may pass out and didn’t have the energy to explore it.

“Peter,” Bruce said firmly and calmly from directly above him as a nurse cut off his shirt and another placed an IV catheter in his arm. “Your throat is full of soot from the fire earlier and is causing your trachea to swell and close. We’re going to knock you out so we can place an endotracheal tube to help you breathe. It’s going to be jarring when you wake up later but it will be okay. I need you to trust me.”

Peter could feel tears welling up in his eyes and spilling over his face from the stress and effort but didn’t get a chance to respond before his muscles relaxed like wet clay and his vision spun into darkness.

——————————————

“I’m on my way,” May Parker’s wet voice said through the phone as Tony paced up and down the hallway outside the room where the medical staff was working with Peter. “God Tony fuck!” She said, sounding out of breath as if she were running.

“Happy’s on his way to get you,” Tony promised her, trying to control his own racing heart and tensed nerves. “He’ll be there in ten minutes and he’ll get you back much faster than the bus. I’ve got him May. I promise I’ve got him.”

May let out a sob into the phone and Tony felt his heart clench. “If anything happens to him,” she said and Tony nodded. He knew. He understood.

“Just focus on getting here safely,” he told her as he stopped to stare at Peter’s door. “I’ll let you know when I hear something.”

“The very second you find anything out,” she told him firmly before hanging up the phone. Tony rubbed a hand over his face and dropped into one of the chairs that were spaced throughout the hall, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and closing his eyes.

Waking up to Peter panicking, pale and with blue lips was probably going to be in the top five worst experiences of his life and would definitely haunt his nightmares for weeks to come. Bruce hadn’t told him anything before ordering him removed from the room and his imagination was, most likely, worse than anything that was happening to Peter but he didn’t do well not knowing what was going on.

“Update FRI?” He asked his AI hopefully, tapping on the comm link he kept in his ear basically all of his waking hours.

“Sorry boss,” she said remorsefully. “Mr. Parker’s condition is classified.”

Tony’s stomach knotted further and he stood back up to pace again, unable to sit down and needing to work out his restless energy as he waited for an update on the kid. About fifteen minutes of nail biting later, Bruce slipped out of the room and gestured to Tony to sit back down.

“He’ll be okay,” he started out, making Tony sag in dizzying relief. His throat was filled with soot from the fire earlier and it caused his trachea to swell closed. We knocked him out to place an endotracheal tube until the swelling went down but it was already to severe so we had to perform a cricthyrotomy to establish a viable airway instead.”

Tony felt the blood drain from his face and he felt a little faint. “Talk to me like I’m an idiot Bruce,” he said, desperate and hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was. “I need you to lay it out for me.”

Bruce looked worried and reached out a hand to grab Tony’s wrist to take his pulse. “I need you to calm down,” Bruce said firmly. “Yes, this is scary but Peter is fine. With his healing abilities he’s going to make a full recovery and he’ll probably be back on his feet in just a couple days alright? Peter is out of danger but it isn’t going to help his recovery if you have a heart attack okay?”

Tony nodded, making a concentrated effort to do his four-seven-eight breathing and calm down. It took a couple minutes but Bruce was patient. “Better?” He asked and Tony nodded, gesturing with his hand for the other scientist to continue. “We had to make a small incision in Peter’s neck and trachea and insert an endotracheal tube through that incision since his upper airway was too swollen to allow it to pass. He is able to breath on his own with this in but we have him on supplemental oxygen just to support him. He is on a ventilator just to give his lungs a chance to recover but he can breathe on his own – its just supplemental alright? We’ve started epinephrine and steroid therapy to reduce the swelling and we’ll probably be able to remove the tube in twenty-four to thirty-six hours.”

“He’s okay though?” Tony asked a little desperately. “He’s fine?”

“Yes Tony,” Bruce told him with an indulgent smile. “He’s okay and he’ll make a full recovery.”

“Can I see him?” He asked, staring at the closed door.

“In a few minutes,” Bruce promised. “The nurses and respiratory therapists are getting him settled but then you can go in. Do you want to call his aunt and I can update her in the meantime?”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, passing his phone over to Bruce and feeling his muscles unclench just the smallest amount.

The kid was okay.

———————————————

Peter woke to the clicking and popping of artificial air and immediately panicked at he felt his chest rise and fall against his volition and he grasped at the loose gown resting over him before a gentle hand took his and pulled it away. “Hey kiddo its alright, you’re okay. You can breathe the machine is just helping a little.”

Peter cracked his eyes open and made eye contact with his mentor who was seated beside him. May was loosely gripping his hand on the other side, her head resting next to his arm on the bed and soft puffs of air hitting his skin as she slept. The machine clicked again and it took everything in Peter not to fight it. Tony ran his fingers over his knuckles in a soothing gesture.

“We’re going to have to work on your suit,” the man said with a little smile. “It’s getting a full respirator and oxygen tank. It’s going to be a challenge since its so sleek but I think, between the two of us, we can figure it out.” Peter let his brows furrow in confusion and Tony sighed. “Your throat closed up because of the smoke,” he said. “You’re going to be fine though.”

The ventilator clicked again and Peter squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep calm. He had never done well with loss of control and he could feel his Spidey sense making his hairs raise and his adrenaline spike. He wanted to panic but the artificial breaths wouldn’t let him and it just made it so much worse.

“Hey hey,” Tony said soothingly, rubbing his free hand through Peter’s hair in a calming gesture. “It’s alright.” He gave Peter a considering look then hesitantly offered: “Want me to have them put you out?”

A thrill of relief shot though Peter and he squeezed his mentor’s hand in desperation as he pressed the call button. Peter couldn’t see the nurse but he heard Tony ask for the sedation like he was underwater, not calming until he could feel the cool rush of drugs in his veins.

“I’ve got you buddy,” the man said, a thumb rubbing over Peter’s cheekbone once before settling back in his hair. “You just check out for a while.”

The darkness was welcoming as Peter fell into it; feeling safe with his aunt and mentor watching over him.

[jasontoddiefor]

Summary: Jason Todd was raised on the streets, in Gotham’s filth, but the blood that was running through his veins was everything but. Jason was the last of a line of gruesome, death stained mages, necromancers who dealt in souls and flickering images of immortality. Jason was a fifteen-year-old boy who crawled out of his grave, weeks after he died, reanimated by powers he couldn’t understand or control, and struggled to feel alive even when his father was holding onto him.

AN: I finally get to post my @batfam-big-bang fanfic! I My lovely beta readers for this wonderful project were @nycis and @queerbutstillhere while my amazing artists were @darkmagyk and @paperedking and @zannakai. Check out their stunning pieces!!!

Read on AO3

I had a night I had a day I did one million stupid things I said one billion foolish things I'm not okay

If there are two emotions Jason knows well, they are  fear and anger. Both had accompanied him since his earliest childhood memories. His father’s shouting had been a constant source of anger and fear. His loud voice had forced Jason to hide beneath the table, his bed, the closet, all spaces he had falsely assumed would be too small for his father to reach. With bated breath he had waited for the screeching to stop until only his mother’s soft sobs had echoed through the rooms. Those too had angered Jason. He didn’t know whether it was on her behalf, because he had hated his father so much for causing her any pain, or because that anger had been for himself, the poor child whose mother wasn’t strong enough to leave her piece of shit husband.

On the streets, anger had kept him warm at night and fear had ensured he stayed alive. He had marveled at the shiny tires of the Batmobile, but even then, deep down, he had been so incredibly angry. He was going hungry while another drove a car like that. He had ignored his fear then and stolen the tires regardless.

It had been the best decision of his life.

So now, when once again  he was stuck between fear and anger, he chose to dismiss his fear and lash out instead.

“You can’t be serious!” Jason hissed, throwing up his arms.

Rage boiled beneath his skin like an active volcano. It infected his voice, his stance. He rose to his full height, making him the tallest in the room, but none of his siblings even blinked at it. They were too used to such simpleminded intimidation tactics, employed similar ones in front of villains who thought they could get the better of them.

“This is the right way,” Dick said, his voice strained with finality, a kind of authority he had no right to evoke.

He was not their leader, and he sure as hell was not their father. Dick barely understood what Jason was capable of and when he did, was too scared of it. The others didn’t see it, but Jason knew a coward when he saw one. Dick always tip-toed around Jason’s room like he expected the undead to crawl right out of it and drag him into a bloody casket. Beyond that, he also always took the patrol routes far away from Jason’s apartment complex and city district. Jason didn’t mind, he preferred it when the others kept their noses out of the Narrows and Crime Alley. His people didn’t particularly enjoy it either when the other bats and birds came around to play there as they tended to mess with the wards and ask uncomfortable questions. Jason understood too well how unsettling his presence could be and therefore knew very well that Dick had no room to make such decisions or judge Jason for them.

“The right way,” Jason repeated. “Do you even hear yourself? If everything was right, Bruce would still be here!”

Tim and Steph both winced when Jason said his name and even Dick’s face fell. They all didn’t understand it. Death was so final to them instead of just another state of being, one that Jason could reverse.

“I can bring him back,” Jason continued, desperation seeping into his voice. “Everything will be alright again. It’s all in these books. I just need your help.”

Why couldn’t his siblings just understand that he would fix it and then everything would go back to being the way it was before Darkseid had torn their lives to shreds. The Cave had become messy since Bruce’s death. It had been barely a month ago but it already showed despite best efforts. Jason had dragged all his books here to study and take notes, the constant hum of the technology as much a motivational hymn as it was a lullaby. His notes now were spread out all across the table, proudly displaying the work Dick was disregarding so very easily.

Dick only stubbornly shook his head. “No, Bruce wouldn’t want that.”

This wasn’t about what Bruce wanted, he was dead. This was simply about deciding how they were going to fix it.

“You don’t know that,” Jason countered. “It’s not like he wrote it in his will.”

Dick let out a low breath and dragged his hands through his hair as if Jason were causing him a headache. They had attended the reading of the will just hours before. Alfred had made sure they had all dressed up in proper suits the way they had for the closed casket funeral because there hadn’t been a body to recover. It would make it all more difficult to bring Bruce back without his original body to tie his soul too, but Jason was confident that he would be able to pull it off. Jason had only listened half-heartedly to the reading of the will. He knew its contents by heart, they all did. Every hero had a will set up and about ten proxies who knew every word and could recite it in case their death had been unnatural.

Alfred had been given custody over Damian while Tim had been emancipated. The Wayne fortune had been split five ways between Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, and Damian while Steph and Barbara both got a huge stipend. It was all for nothing, Bruce would be back. Cass knew it as well, or so Jason hoped. She hadn’t even bothered to show for the funeral but had left the city the night before. Jason wished she had stayed, she would support him.

Instead, Jason had to make everyone else listen to him.

Tim was still straight up in denial and didn’t believe that Bruce was dead. His parents had died around the same time, just two years earlier. Of course, he wouldn’t be able to handle it and escape into his delusions instead. Steph, for all that she was a part of the team and family, Jason’s closest confidant out of all of them, had chosen to stay neutral while Dick protested vehemently.

Damian, meanwhile, just thought that Jason wouldn’t be able to pull it off, but that could be blamed on his superiority complex. While the kid, a perfect mix of Talia and Bruce, could imitate Bruce’s accent and body language as well as he wanted to, he still reeked of al Ghul arrogance and the Lazarus pit’s side effects. It was a foul stench, poisonous, and foreign to this world. It had hurt Bruce when Jason had told him what exactly was keeping Damian’s heart beating, but there was nothing that could be done about it. It wasn’t like anybody else besides Jason actually noticed.

“Had he wanted to, we would know,” Dick said.

“But-“

“Jason, stop.” Dick’s order, his tone couldn’t be mistaken for anything but a bark, was harsh. “Bruce is dead and he will stay dead. You will not experiment on his soul just because you think you can bring him back.”

“I don’t think so, I know so,” Jason argued. “You’re just incapable of trusting me! You still think I’m a foolish kid who is just playing around with powers he doesn’t understand!”

His voice rose with every shouted word. It had always been like this. Dick thinking that Jason was crossing too many lines, wasn’t good enough to be Robin or anything. Hell, he had accepted Tim more readily as Robin than he ever had Jason.

“Jason-“ Tim tried to speak up, but was harshly cut off by Dick.

Trust big brother to always know best.

“Because you are!” Dick shouted back. It hurt, cut into flesh like sharp knives, but at the same time it was liberating. Finally, Dick was actually speaking his mind. Honesty, so Jason had learned, was the only way to keep moving forward. They all lied, it was a part of their training, came as natural as breathing, but there was a line you had to be aware of.

“Bruce is dead and you can’t let go. Instead of helping me figure out how to keep Gotham running, you run off and bury your head in old books to find a solution to a problem that isn’t there! He’s gone. I needed you on patrol tonight and you didn’t show.”

Patrol had been just fine, Dick hadn’t needed him. Jason had kept an eye on the comms, they had done as good as they could with three men down. It hadn’t even been a busy night.

“You’re just giving up!”

“And you’re delusional!” Dick retorted.

He picked up one of the pages the closest to him. The originally white paper was covered by ink stains, diagrams smeared uncaringly all over it while Jason had been trying to figure out what exactly his ancestors had gotten up to when they tried to raise the dead.

“This is too much, Jason. You’re only setting yourself up for my failure. I let you keep researching because I thought it would help, but it’s only hurting you. You have to let go.”

“And leave?” Jason spat out. “Like you always do the moment something goes wrong with Bruce?”

Dick froze. His annoyance and misguided worry slowly twisted into dark anger. At that moment, it just felt right. Dick had ceased pretending that he was so much better than them, that he wasn’t struggling without Bruce around. Jason loathed how he sat at breakfast every day, acting as if it was all still alright and fine, smiling and lying continuously.

“I-“ Dick interrupted himself, reigning in his anger as everybody else watched him with keen eyes. “No, no, I’m not having this discussion with you. None of us are on board with your reckless endeavor, so you’re not doing it and that’s final.”

Jason turned to look at the rest of his family, but they were all averting their eyes. Of course, they would all side with Dick over him. He was older, more experienced, the first Robin out of all of them.

He wasn’t the resurrected boy who talked to ghosts and turned living beings to worthless decay with nothing more than a touch.

“I see,” Jason replied and grabbed his jacket from the chair.

Fine, it wasn’t like he needed any of them anyway. It would have been easier with more living anchors, but Batman had left his mark all over the city. Gotham was his, even the magic that buried itself so far underground that hardly anybody could see it knew who it belonged to. Jason had plenty of anchors he could use to bring Bruce back. What were five children compared to an entire city?

“Where are you going?” Tim spoke up. He had barely said a word since Jason and Dick had started fighting, but Jason supposed that it made sense given that Tim thought both of them were wrong.

“Away from here,” Jason replied. “Since Dick is so keen on running this show himself, he can do it. I’m out.”

“What?” Steph asked. “Wait! Jason, no, you have to stay!”

“What I need to do is fix this.”

Jason picked his backpack up from the ground and started stuffing his papers into it. He didn’t particularly care in which order he did it, he would have to sort through them all anyway once he was back in his apartment. He needed to toss those that were trash and copy the calculations and incantations that actually made sense and seemed like they were a good first step onto fresh sheets. Maybe he should get actual parchment. He didn’t usually work with dead writing materials, but with whatever he had on hand. His spells were powerful enough without, but he couldn’t afford any mistakes here.

Once he was finished, he threw his backpack over his shoulder and headed towards his bike, not sparing the group behind him another glance.

“Jason,” Dick started once more.

Jason just threw his hands up, dismissing him.

“Don’t worry, Richard,” he said. “It’s not like I can stay dead for long if something goes wrong. Don’t bother contacting me. I’ll come back once I’m finished.”

He couldn’t see his older brother’s reaction, but Jason would bet that he had flinched. They all hated to be reminded of Jason’s death, but it wasn’t like Jason could erase that part of him.

Jason put on his bright red helmet and turned on his bike. Then, without looking back, he drove off, disappearing into the dawn of a new day.

[thepeacetea]

Broken Angels Ch.3

Hi guys! Wow, i cant believe I’m on chapter 3 already! Thank you all for soooo much for all your likes, comments, and reblogs. Your support has been phenomenal! I really couldn’t have done it without you guys.  I am really happy you all like the story! I just want to do a quick shout out to @particularlygeeky for encouraging me to post this. Anyway i tried to tag everyone who asked and if I missed you I am really sorry. Just send me a message and l’ll get you the next chapter. Again, if you have any questions, comments or suggestions, let me know. Anyway, hope ya’ll enjoy! Peace!

“What’s got you into such a bad mood?”

The Wayne family were, for once, all home relaxing in one of the sitting rooms. Bruce, Dick, and Tim were discussing some aspect of Wayne Enterprises, Jason was channel surfing, while Damian had sunk into the couch with an irritated frown etched on his face. They had all noticed the change in the youngest but had refrained from asking earlier, but everyone was curious as to what had happened. No one was surprised when Jason had asked the question. Turning his glare at Jason did nothing to the older boy, all it did was make him raise a brow, waiting for an answer.

“Today was an annoyance.”

“Ha, when isn’t a day an annoyance to you? Naw, something else happened that ticked you off more normal.” Jason stated, popping a handful of candy into his mouth.

Damian would never understand how someone who acted so tough and violent could eat anything that colourful and full of sugar. Jason had been like that for as long as he had known him, and according to Dick, even longer.

“So, what happened?” Jason prodded again, grabbing another handful of candy.

Growling , Damian’s mind returned to early that day.

He was running late. He was never late. But there had to be an accident at the main intersection that backed up traffic, causing him to have to take a rather lengthy detour. Racing through the halls, he made it through the door just as the bell rang. The teacher, Mr. Spinale wasn’t there yet, which Damian thanked whatever god was out there. But that didn’t mean the rest of the class didn’t notice.

“I never thought I would live to see the day that the Damian Wayne would be late!” Claude shouted, shooting up from his seat.

Claude was . . . interesting. He was a loud mouth boy, who, no matter how blatantly Damian had ignored or told him off, kept coming back to tease him. By all fronts, Claude was a very likable person and had multiple friends. But he seemed to enjoy courting danger if his hobby of riling up the Ice Prince was any indication.

“And here I thought you were incapable of arriving before the bell rings.” Damian shot back, taking his seat. A series of ‘ooohhhs’ followed as Claude just laughed it off.

Before the anyone could say anything else, Mr. Spinale came in followed by fifteen other people, fourteen of them students. They were all chatting in French, but they all seemed to be enraptured by a story one of the girls was telling. Subconsciously, Damian’s mind assessed them and labeled them all as non-threats.

“Class, as you all should know, our school is hosting an exchange program with multiple international schools. Each school sent a class to represent them for three month.” Mr. Spinale stated. Damian could vaguely remember it being announced. It had been a contest or something with the best schools of other countries or something like that. Damian had never payed attention to it. “These students represent Collège Françoise Dupont of Paris, France. I expect you All to make them feel welcome” He instructed the class, casting Damian a meaningful look before turning to the exchange class. For a second, Damian saw confusion flash through Mr. Spinale’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Ms. Bustier. I was informed there was fifteen students. There’s only fourteen here.”

It was slight, but Damian caught the shift in the new class. They all looked as if they had tasted something bitter. The rest of his classmates didn’t seem to notice it, not that they noticed anything, but their reaction to the mention of said missing classmate intrigued him. Usually, a class would be worried if one of their own were missing. Or at least that’s what he had been told.

“We do, but the last one, Marinette, was sick today, so we left her at the hotel. But she should be here tomorrow or the day after.” The red headed teacher, Bustier, said. She had on a cheerful smile that didn’t sit right with Damian. As if she hiding something, or at the very lest wasn’t telling the whole truth.

Apparently Mr. Spinale felt the same way if the near unnoticeable narrowing of his eyes were any indication, but he just nodded once before directing the new students to sit down. It was no surprise to Damian when they grouped together, nor when a small argument broke out over who would sit with story girl.

As classes wore on, Damian watch in mild amusement as the two classes tried to interact. Key word was tried. Majority of the new class knew only basic English, while his classmates were mediocre in French. He ignored all attempts of conversation from the exchange class, sending them away with a bored glare or by immersing himself in a book. But while he didn’t talk with them, he did take the time to study them. Most of them were nothing special, nothing he would concern himself with, with the exception of one student. The one who had been the center of attention when they came in. The one who appeared to be everyone’s favorite. He quickly learned she was Italian, and a compulsive liar, if you could call her stories such. He listened as she fed her classmates story after story with so many names being dropped that he was honestly shocked that they believed them. No one, and he means no one who was anyone, would ever drop as many names as this girl was. In all honesty, he was disgusted at the sight.

Another thing he noticed was that the girl, was that she seemed hellbent on cozying up and charming anyone she deemed important or could possibly be influential in the class. So when she set her sights on him, Damian knew what he could expect. With what she thought to be an attractive sway on her hips, she sauntered up to him. Latching onto his arm, she introduced herself as Lila and began to spew a horrible lie of knowing the Wayne family, his family, and had the audacity to say that she was an honorary member of the family, practically being adopted by the boys themselves. So Damian did what he did best.

“I don’t care who you are, or who you think you know. But if you don’t remove yourself from my arm and my vicinity, then you’ll have a lot more to worry about then what rip-off brand you’ll be wearing tomorrow. Besides,” Damian said, barely casting a glance in her direction. “I don’t affiliated myself with someone as . . . tacky as yourself.” A slight sneer made its way to his face as he forcefully removed his arm from her grasp.

He had spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. Majority of the students who knew him simple shrugged before returning to their previous occupations. Some gave the girl pitying looks, but it wasn’t a new occurrence. They had lost count of how many girls had tried to cozy up with the Ice Prince only to end up burnt.

 For five, long seconds, Lila did nothing. It was as his words had frozen her. In that time, Damian watched as a flurry of emotions flash though her olive green eyes, eyes that reminded him of a snake. Shock, embarrassment, anger, confusion, where a few he could decipher before they settled on anger.

Almost instantly, her whole face changed as tears sprang to life, hurrying down her face before she let out one of the fakest sobs Damian had ever heard. This seemed to spur her class out of their stupor and rushing to her side as the snake started spouting out more lies in French.

“Hey! Why did you say that? She was . . . trying to be nice!” A dark, bi-spectacle redhead demanded, her thick French accent made her broken English harder to understand.

“Then she should learn about personal space.” With that final piece of advice, Damian grabbed his bag and strode out of the room, an aggravated scowl etching its way on his face for the rest of the day.

The rest of the day proceeded in the same fashion. The next three months were going to be very, very long.

“She actually said that!”

Damian shot Jason a glare that promised painful retaliation as said brother laughed. His other brothers where no help as they tried, miserably, to hid their amusement. Bruce was just shaking his head at the boys antics. Alfred had the smallest smile playing on his face, one that if you looked to long made you question if it was there at all.

“I hate you all.” Damian muttered, glaring at the lot of them

“I’m sorry, it’s just. Wow. I almost wish I could see that for myself, and I am all out of candy. I’ll be right back.” Jason said, jumping off the couch and disappearing around the corner.

“How does he eat so much of that stuff?”

“We have no idea. Oh, turn on the news. They’re suppose to cover that crash at the intersection.” Tim said.

“ . . .  As many of you know, the intersection on Main and Boulevard was closed this morning due to what could have been, a fatal collision. At 8:15 this morning, a young girl was near struck by a speeding Toyota Tundra. If it wasn’t for the quick thinking of Police Commissioner James Gordon, it would have been a fatal collision. We have had dozens of videos submitted showing before, during, and after the near incident.”

The image was then cut to a shaky video taken from a phone, show Commissioner Gordon bolting for a very tiny girl who was frozen in the path of the oncoming truck. The video showed Gordon tackling the girl. The view fell to the ground as the cameraman ran out into the street, catching Gordon yelling at the crowd while barking orders into his comm. It showed the girl had launched herself at Gordon with a heart wrenching cry. Gordon’s shocked face as he held the breaking girl, stroking her hair in a effort to calm her.

“As you can see, the civilian wasn’t injured in the crash, but some other footage showed something interesting.”

Another video appeared. This time, the sound was muffled but the footage was clear. It showed Gordon still holding the girl as someone was talking to her. As she turned her head, the camera caught a full view of her face. The frame froze, giving viewer a clear picture of her wide eyes dilated with panic, the swollen right side of her face, with a hand print displayed for all to see.

The sound of glass shattering snapped the entire family’s attention away from the news as the anchorman continued to talk. Their eyes landed on Jason, who stood frozen in the doorway, shattered glass mixed with candy lay scattered around him. Damian was about to snap at him when he saw the look on his brother’s face. Complete, utter shock and fear was etched on Jason’s face.

“Nettie?”

  @mystery-5-5 @captainmac6 @you-will-never-know-how-I-think @mochineko @sonif50 @zalladane @thebananathatwrites @schrodingers25 @kuroko26 @miraculousbelladonna @souleaterlicestein @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @ijustwannabecanadian @ellerahs @ranger-paladinikoe @xxmadamjinxx @derpingrainbow @sassy-spocko@vixen-uchiha @mjisntme @iggy-of-fans @violentbisexualprophecywriter @valeks-princess @crazylittlemunchkin @redscarlet95  @alexzandria-747 @ayuchan07  @whomthefyck @rhub4rb @constancetruggle @rikku052 @kurogaya913 @shizukiryuu @spicybelladonna @zazzlejazzle @luciferge @mewwitch @emotionalsupportginger @grunklestantheman @my-name-is-michell @northernbluetongue 

[forever-your-soldat]

Regret

Warning: blood, death, angst

"Come on, you gotta help me out here, kid." Y/n rose a brow as she gave Tony a look, arms crossed with her feet propped up on the table. "What do you expect me to do? If you haven't realized, I'm not a genius like you and Bruce." She said with a dismissive wave.

Tony sent her a grin. "I know that, but you could, I don't know, help me with keeping some of these parts up so I can use both my hands?" He said, mock irritation on his face that made the girl laugh.

"Yeah, that would be a good idea." She perked up, before leaning back on her seat. "But that's just too much work." She sighed, making the man roll his eyes.

"Maybe you should thank her and take a break, Tony." Bruce said from his side of the room. "You've been at that since four in the morning." He added with a worried look on his face. "I'm fine. As long as I've got coffee, I'm up."

Y/n rolled her eyes, looking at the door as it opened and smiled when she saw Natasha standing there, smiling at her when she entered. "Cap's called for us." She announced while Y/n hopped to her feet and walked over, wrapping her arm around Nat's while waving over her shoulder. "We'll see you guys at the jet!"

"You're leaving us behind?" Tony asked playfully and she stuck her tongue out at him. "Oh, so now that I'm leaving you want me to stay?" She sassed, earning a chuckle from Bruce and a grin from Natasha.

"Trust me, we need you to keep us going."

Y/n just laughed before she waved at the two and headed up to get ready.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cold.

It was too damn cold, but there was no source of heat anywhere around Y/n as she forced herself up. One hand to her stomach while the other pressed to the ground.

"Y/n, you need to answer."

Who was that? Nat? Steve? Tony?

She couldn't tell. The voice sounded so distant, and despite wanting to answer, she couldn't, merely gasping, clutching her stomach wound as more red started to paint the pure white snow.

Just earlier she was fighting agents, left and right. Now, she was a few feet away from the base, bleeding to death with no one to see her.

Gasping for air, she moved to sit against a tree, seeing the trail of blood she'd left behind. The last guard was able to catch her off guard, stabbing her in the stomach and actually forcing it deep inside her before he had twisted it. It was that chance before Y/n put a bullet through his head.

"Y/n!"

There was another voice and this time, she weakly pressed her finger to her comms, vision swimming as her eyes tried to focus. "North... outside." Was all she could utter before coughing out a handful of blood.

"Thank god, you're okay. We need to get back to the jet."

That was Bucky. She went to respond, but breathing became too painful and she started wheezing, shutting her eyes tight as she forced the pain to back down. But it was too much.

"Y/n, do you copy?" Sam asked when they all gathered near the quinjet.

There was no answer.

"Y/n, come on. We're going home." Wanda tried this time, yet there was still nothing. It was enough to have both her and Bucky to start panicking.

"Kid, we don't have time for games. It's freezing and I think everyone needs their rest." Tony called in this time, surveying the area. "FRIDAY, scan for Y/n." He ordered when they weren't receiving an answer.

"I'm going to check on her." Natasha decided then as she ran to the direction Y/n said she was at. "Sam, go with her, make sure everything is alright." He nodded before taking off into the air.

"Y/n is alone and in need of immediate medical assistance, boss." All heads turn to Tony, minutes after Nat and Same left, and he cussed before stepping out of the jet again. "Romanoff, found her yet?" He hurriedly asked.

"We need Bruce!"

Sam's panicked voice reached their ears and they all grew alarmed. "What's happening?" Clint asked him. "Can't you bring her here?"

"Negative. Moving her is going to end up hurting her more. S-She's lost too much blood." Natasha's frantic voice answered and they hurried to where they were.

Upon arriving to the area where Y/n defeated the HYDRA agents, they saw the trail that lead further into the forest. They would have been cautious if it weren't for Natasha's voice, worry laced with each word while Sam kept pacing by them.

Bruce ran over when they saw the state Y/n was in, ripping the shirt she was wearing so he could get a better view of her wounds then wincing at the severity of it. "Hand me a towel and the kit. Clint, I need you to get the jet as close as possible, now." He began barking out orders and the team quickly went around them as Clint and Bucky ran to the quinjet.

"Y/n, hey. We're going to get you home, but you need to stay awake." Bruce said soothingly as he pressed the towel around her stomach with Steve opening the kit and handing him whatever he needed.

Y/n nodded weakly, her head now in Natasha's lap while Wanda gripped her hand. "We need you to stay awake, Y/n." The redhead whispered as she cradled her against herself, keeping her eyes on her, watching as she struggled to keep focusing on her face.

"Nat?" Her head tilted slightly and she saw Wanda, then the rest of the team. "Why are you... why are you crying?" She panted, pain shooting through her veins and forcing her to take a sharp intake of air.

"I-I'm sorry." She choked out and Tony quickly shook his head when he knelt next to them. "Hey, none of that. It's not your fault." He gently scolded, but she shook her head.

"I let my guard down, Tones. They..." She was interrupted by a bloody coughing fit and Wanda whimpered as she tightened her hold on her hand. "They lured me out." She managed to say but Tony shook his head.

"It wasn't your fault, sweetheart. You didn't know." Steve was panicking, his heart racing. He called Bucky and Clint over their comms. "Where are you? We have to get her out of here!" There was a bit of static before Clint replied. "There's no place near enough."

Wanda used her powers to try and soothe the pain, but her lip trembled. "The cold is slowly freezing her lungs." She croaked out and Tony quickly did a scan again. "This isn't good. Collapsing on the snow, it's going to kill her unless we get her somewhere warm."

Natasha bit her lip, containing the sob that was threatening to come out as she shook her head. Y/n gave her a weak smile. "I'm sorry." She whispered and Natasha furiously shook her head. "Don't say that! Y/n, you're going to be okay." It was more of convincing herself, but they all need it.

When Clint and Bucky finally arrived, they explained that the jet was a few more feet away. Bruce looked at Wanda. "I need you to lift her to the ship. That's the best we can without moving her too much." He explained and she nodded before they all boarded the jet.

When they finally left, Bucky stayed next to Natasha, watching, like everyone else, all holding their breaths with a tense atmosphere.

"Stop that." Wanda's voice cut through the silence and they all looked at her, eyes watering while she was watching Y/n. "You're going to be okay."

Y/n glanced at her, smiling lightly. "It's going to be okay." She rasped out, eyes half open before she shifted to look at the ceiling of the jet. "You're all going to be okay." She echoed before she had slowly inhaled, then exhaled before her chest stilled.

"I-I can't find a pulse!" Bruce panicked as he kept one hand on the wound, the other moving to her neck to check, but he was coming up empty.

Bucky pushed off his seat and ran over, eyes wild as he took over to find a pulse. "No, no, no, no. Come on, doll. You can't be doing this to us." He muttered as he held her face, shaking her slightly. "Come on. Wake up!" He pleaded as everyone stuck rooted in place.

Natasha felt her knees go weak that she had to grab on to the seat before lowering herself on the ground. Sam held her, eyes stilled trained on where Bruce kept trying to revive Y/n with Bucky.

But it never happened.

Everyone was quiet except for the sobs and hiccups and Bucky pleading, begging for Y/n to just open her eyes.

When they arrived at the compound, there was already a med team waiting for them and they watched as they took Y/n's body away, struggling to let Bucky take her that it took both Steve and Tony to pry him off.

It took them a while to let Y/n's death sink in. But Natasha felt it crushing her as soon as those last words left her mouth on the jet.

Tony locked himself in the lab, staring into nothing before he swiped his things off his desk, cursing and yelling, anything to get rid of the weight that settled in his chest.

Bucky was still, sitting on the couch and staring at the wall. Steve left him to go to his room, only to spot the bracelet Y/n gave him from one of her missions. It was in that silent moment that he let himself cry, sliding against the door as he held a picture of Y/n and him against his chest.

Sam was in his room, cussing and throwing things, blaming himself for not being fast enough in finding Y/n. Bruce was the same, though thinking that he should have done more in treating her wounds.

Wanda sobbed, wallowing in the emptiness that was left behind by her best friend and Clint listened, exhausted yet angry for not getting there in time.

Natasha stayed inside Y/n's room, covered in her blood while staring at all the things that was left behind. Her eyes were red. She was tired.

Empty.

It felt so cold.

Usually they would all freshen up after a mission. It was always quick and they would settle in the common room to unwind.

But Y/n was gone. It just wasn't the same.

When her funeral came, all of the Avengers sat away from each other except for Steve, Tony, Bruce, and Wanda. They sat at the front, quiet.

The ones to carry her casket were Tony, Bucky, Steve, Bruce, Clint, and Sam. Wanda had to hold Natasha as they both cried. Peter was shaking in May's arms, eyes bloodshot ever since Tony broke the news to him.

It was quiet, even after the funeral. Everyone of them missed her, but there no getting her back. It became the source of every fight, each one blaming the other for not saving her.

Steve just finished ruining another punching bag and he just glared at it, fists clenched at his sides before he hung another bag and started beating it up like the rest. "You know, you should really get some sleep." He huffed as he continued throwing his fists into the bag.

"And what? See her in my dreams then wake up so I can remember how I lost my kid?" He threw back, smacking the bag roughly before Natasha stood a few feet away from him.

"I know it's difficult, Steve. I-"

"You don't get it, Nat. I lost my daughter in that damn field. You don't understand what it's like to watch your own kid dying in front of you because you will never have one." He growled angrily, watching as pain and hurt crossed Natasha's features.

"You're right. I don't know what it's like to lose a child. But I know how it feels to lose someone you love." She said, face neutral despite the crack in her voice. "I loved her, Steve. I'm in love with her and I didn't get to tell her."

Steve sobered up slowly before he grimaced, his eyes filling with tears. "She broke my heart. And I just wish I had more time with her... that we had more time with her."

Steve lowered his head, his hands still on the punching bag before he gave it one last angry punch, ripping it apart before he yelled out in anguish before Natasha rested her arms around him and rubbed his head.

"I just need my girl back." He whimpered as he cried in the redhead's arms and she shut her eyes tight.

"I know. I understand."