#finished this in class bc data science is simply So Boring

[asilentguardian]

Okay but I’d love to see your take on stepdad Hal attempt at parenting and trying not to overstep if you’re up for it

Thank you very much for the prompt! I love fics where Hal is slowly integrating into the batfam.

Please enjoy Hal's attempt at giving Tim advice, just in time for Hal's birthday!

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It’s a rare night. Bruce and Hal in the same bed, relatively early. Early meaning 11pm, but for them it’s a miracle. Hal thought that somehow being married would mean their schedules would magically align, that the universe would start seeing them as one person, one unit. But between Batman and the Green Lantern corps and their jobs and Bruce’s kids, there really isn’t time for them alone. Plenty of time to save the world together, to put out fires both literal and metaphorical, but little time for this. Laying together, falling asleep together.

Bruce has already slipped under, arm firmly around Hal’s waist. Hal would love to follow him, to curl against that heat, but Hal’s insomnia has joined them, too, and he can already tell it’s going to be a rough one. It hits him out of nowhere, sometimes, this restlessness. Bruce is still in the early stages, liable to rocket out of sleep if Hal tosses and turns too much. Good sleep is so rare for Bruce these days, so Hal begins the slow process of extracting himself from the bed and Bruce’s grip, only cheating a little bit with the ring to climb over him.

Nights like these used to find him fleeing the manor to the apartment he had refused to give up. But Bruce would inevitably come hunting him down, because he could never let anything go, and Hal would end up putting on a show of resisting, and they’d end up back in bed anyways. The apartment was another battle, one that Hal also ended up conceding. It still felt strange to have a permanent residence in Gotham, of all places.

Now, these nights have him wandering around the manor, exploring the library or one of the multiple sitting rooms or the kitchens until he inevitably runs into one of many nocturnal members of Bruce’s family. His family, really. Another argument they’ve run into, one that Hal isn’t quite ready to concede. He’s never seen himself with kids, doesn’t really think he’s cut out for that. He’s not a natural, not like Bruce.

The glow from the kitchen at the end of the hall tells Hal that he isn’t the only one awake, as usual. Hal makes his footsteps heavier, not willing to repeat the mistake of accidentally sneaking up on a bat. It’s Tim sitting at the counter tonight, another familiar sight.

“Hey kid,” Hal greets as he walks to the fridge. Tim grunts in acknowledgement, face still buried in his phone. It’s funny, the different ways Bruce is reflected in his children. Hal is certain he’s heard the same exact noise come out of Bruce when his attention is turned toward a case. Not that Hal would say so outloud. They all tend to get prickly, when he compares them to Bruce. All of them except Damian, who is still young enough to worship his father. 

Hal is still smiling to himself when he turns back to Tim, snack in hand. He scans his eyes over Tim, making sure his sleeplessness isn’t self-imposed, as it too often is. Another trait, courtesy of Bruce. Hal’s smile quickly drops when he notices that Tim isn’t actually absorbed with his phone, just kind of staring at the black screen, mind clearly somewhere else. There’s no dark circles under his eyes, but they are red and puffy. It’s clear he’s been crying.

“Hey, you okay Tim?” Hal asks. Tim blinks and looks up at him before quickly looking away again, trying to hide his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he responds, voice devoid of emotion. Tim is still a teenager, technically, and Hal knows that they don’t take well to prying. Tim especially keeps most things close to his chest, doesn't share much with anyone, Hal thinks. Bruce is only able to keep track of his life through border-line unhealthy amounts of surveillance. Tim seems to be aware of this and allows it, so Hal figures it’s fine. But he’s never seen Tim cry, not enough to leave him looking like this. Bruce would probably go apeshit, if someone had hurt Tim, so Hal tries again.

“You sure? Because you can talk to me about anything, if you need to,” Hal says, and immediately cringes. He sounds like his high-school guidance counselor. “I mean, I know I’m just that guy your dad married, but I’m still happy to help you with anything.”

Even worse now, Hal sounds like his own step-dad, and what a horrific thought that is. Tim doesn’t take the opportunity to poke fun at his fumbling attempts to be cool, just continues to stare at his phone. He glances up at Hal, then back down at his phone, tapping it against the counter. Hal doesn’t move, sensing that Tim is either going to actually open up to him or deflect again, and he wants to give him the space to think.

“It’s not that big of a deal, really,” Tim hedges.

“C’mon, hit me with it then,” Hal encourages. Tim glances at him again, and his shoulders sag in defeat.

“Bernard and I got into a fight,” Tim mutters. Hal is secretly grateful that it seems to be a teenager-shaped problem, and not a vigilante-shaped problem, though maybe he would be a better help with the latter. His few teenage relationships were pretty disastrous. He takes a moment to wrack his brain. He had heard from Bruce that Tim was dating a civilian, a boy, and assumes that this Bernard guy is said boyfriend.

“First one?” Hal guesses. Tim shrugs.

“Not really. But this one was just,” he pauses, trying to find the words.

“Worse?” Hal offers, and Tim nods, finally making eye contact with him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that mad before,” Tim says. Hal winces in sympathy. He remembers the first time he had seen Bruce really, truly, mad at him. It hadn’t been a fun night.

“What was the fight about?” Hal ventures, still unsure of how far he should push. Tim is a Wayne, and he’ll have no problem telling Hal when to fuck off, but he’d like to not piss off Bruce’s kids.

Tim huffs and looks away, guilty.

“Vigilante stuff,” he says vaguely. Hal raises his eyebrows. He wonders if Bruce knows that Tim’s civilian boyfriend knows his identity.

“He mad you didn’t tell him sooner?” Hal asks. Tim shakes his head, brows furrowing.

“No, he figured it out a long time ago, he’s just. He’s overprotective, I guess,” Tim says. He freezes after a moment and looks at Hal, frantic.

“Don’t tell Bruce I said that. He’s already twitchy about Bernard knowing at all,” Tim rushes out. Hal puts his hands up in surrender.

“Relax, kid, I won’t rat you out,” Hal says. Tim relaxes like he just dodged certain death. “But you know what he’d say, right?” Hal adds. He didn’t use to understand Bruce’s paranoia about identities, not really. He thought it was all bullshit, a way for Bruce to exert control over all of them. But after they started screwing around, after Hal ended up at the manor a few times, after he saw the way Bruce talked about his kids, he started to understand. The stakes were higher, for Bruce.

“Man, you used to be cool,” Tim groans, rolling his eyes. Hal crosses his arms at that.

“Hey, I just said I’d help you out,” Hal says. 

“Yeah, whatever,” he huffs. They fall into silence again, Tim picking at the edges of his phone case. Hal lets him have the time to collect his thoughts like Bruce often needs. 

“How did you and Bruce do it?” Tim asks, suddenly much more timid.

“Do what?” Hal asks.

“Stop fighting all the time,” Tim says. Hal can’t stop the bark of laughter that bursts from him, and Tim looks at him in confusion.

“Kid, we have not stopped fighting since we met. That didn’t change just because we starting fu- I mean, dating,” Hal says. Tim raises an eerily familiar eyebrow at the slip up, but lets it lie.

“But you’re married now,” Tim insists. Hal knows that his smile in response to that is embarrassingly soft, but he still can’t help it. It’s still thrilling, to think about Bruce and married in the same sentence. 

“Yeah, we are. I married him even though he drives me crazy and can make me madder than just about anything else in the universe,” Hal says. Tim shifts in his seat, clearly more uncertain than before. Hal Hal panics, just a little, at the thought of completely blowing this.

“Look, just because you love someone doesn’t mean you won’t disagree sometimes. You might even get angry at each other. Bruce and I could disagree on the color of the sky, probably, but the difference between then and now is that we actually try to understand each other. We fight because we don’t want to be misunderstood, you know?” Hal says. Tim looks at him suspiciously.

“Not really, no,” he drawls. Hal sighs.

“Well, then you can’t go wrong with a good apology,” he offers. Tim looks even more suspicious now, and Hal suppresses his laughter, this time, but can’t help but be reminded of a prickly kitten.

“Yeah, I guess,” Tim says. Hal offers him a smile, and turns to the cabinets to hunt for a glass.

“You’re not, by the way,” Tim adds, quiet enough that Hal almost misses it.

“Not what?” he asks, filling his acquired glass with water.

“Just some guy Bruce married. You’re a part of the family, too, you know.” Tim says. It’s Hal’s turn to feel uncertain now. He swallows his knee-jerk reaction of denial, takes a sip of water before turning around. Tim’s gaze is piercing, and Hal gets the same feeling he gets when Bruce stares at him, like he can sense whatever self-deprecating thought has passed through Hal’s mind.

“Thanks, kid.”