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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years ago

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Stalker X Stalker, Part 8

First

Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” she said.

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

“I’ll see you later?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But some do.”

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

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

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

“What do you want?”

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

Oh no.

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

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

“I wish to coparent with you.”

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

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

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Possibly.”

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

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

“She! And her name is Vanelope!”

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

He nodded, apparently satisfied by her begrudging apology.

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

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

Scarecrow’s parties were always the best.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Except for the Ladybug one,” teased Steph.

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

Tim grinned. “That’s no excuse.”

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

Steph grinned. “And me?”

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

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

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

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

When did they start ganging up on Tim?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grinned. “I’ll protect you.”

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

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

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

“Crane!” Tim greeted.

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

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

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

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

Marinette took a brownie with a lot more hesitance.

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

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

Marinette shook her head, though. “No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ladybug, ready to head inside?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then, towards the end, she disappeared.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She blushed, more than a little embarrassed.

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

Marinette mumbled a curse.

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

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

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

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

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

The drink was taken from her fingers.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m nineteen.”

“Exactly: a child,” she said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ivy hesitated. “You don’t get drunk?”

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

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

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

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

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

Harley hesitated. “That’s… different.”

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

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

She’d summoned him.

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

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

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

“No clue why they keep bringing you back.”

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

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

“Favorite punching bag, maybe,” said Ivy.

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

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

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

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

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

Punchline almost punched her.

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

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

But also: Nightwing!

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

Nightwing smiled widely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoffed. “Why would I?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tim started to respond, but then he realized something.

‘Darling’?

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

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

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

Tim rolled his eyes. “If I must.”

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

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

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

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

Which meant one of two things:

a) he was special to her in both identities

or b) she knew he was Red Robin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does Ladybug know our identities?”

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

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

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

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

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

She accepted him.

#stalker x stalker #maribat #timari #timmari #shutterbug #timinette #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #tim drake #red robin #it isn't important but #duke went as miles morales's spiderman #damian went as batman #also pediatric nurse!dick grayson lives in my head rent free

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lesbian-deadpool · 4 years ago

Note

How to the team find out?

Okay so, the first thing you gotta know is that they didn't all find out at the same time.

Now, you’re probably expecting Clint to be the first one who found out, considering how close he and Natasha are.

But no.

It was actually Thor and Sam.

They were both outside, Sam flying around in his wingsuit, as Thor watched on aiming his hammer at the Falcon in jest.

You and Natasha had gotten out of the car and waved over at the two men.

Thor, with his Godly powers or some shit, gasped dramatically and pointed at your girlfriend with a huge grin upon his face.

“Congratulations!” he boomed, much to Sam’s confusion. The man landing beside the God.

“What you congratulating them about?” Sam asked, “Wait, are you two engaged?! Is that what this is?!”

“How did you know?” Natasha asked Thor, her arms opening to accept his happy hug.

“Hey, hey, careful with her.”

Sam came up to stand in front of you, all the while Thor gently swung your girlfriend side to side.

“So, you tow getting married, or what?”

“Oh, no. We’re not engaged.”

“Then what-?” Sam pointed his thumb over to Thor.

“A little babe!” The blonde man spoke, resting his large hands upon Natasha’s still toned stomach, it nowhere near showing a bump. And Sam’s mouth just dropped, making you stifle a laugh, “They will grow big and strong, surrounded by love!”

Natasha smiled warmly at him, actually having to force herself not to cry.

“Wait, you’re actually pregnant?!” Sam exclaimed. Only receiving a happy nod from Natasha, and when he turned back to you, he gained a proud look from you. “Congratulations, you're a baby daddy!” He slapped your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes and turned to Thor, “Seriously, though. How’d you know?”

“Oh, well Natasha is glowing!”

After you had sworn the men to secrecy, you went on with your day. Planning on telling the rest, later on, considering Thor could hardly keep a secret.

But even though that was the plan. To sit them all down and tell them at once.

Tony was the next to find out.

You went down to visit him in the lab. While Natasha was busy filling out some paperwork.

“You seem happy,” the man said.

“Is that such a crime?”

“It is when you don’t tell me the cause of it, or is it too dirty?”

You laughed as he grinned cockily at you, “It’s nothing like that.”

“Thank God, I’d rather not have to douse my ears in holy water.”

You helped him out for a few minutes, passing him tools and chatting as he worked.

“So, are you really not gonna tell me what’s got you in such a good mood? C’mon, let me have some of that happiness,” he nudged your shoulder with his own.

With a smile, you just decided to tell him, “Natasha’s pregnant.”

With his reaction you would have expected someone had just told him some bad news, dropping his tools onto the workbench, only for them to roll off and hit the floor. But when he turned to face you, he wore the brightest smile you has seen on the man in a very long time.

“No way,” he whispered. You nodded. “No fucking way, Y/N!”

Then he jumped on you, hugging you tightly against him, going on about how lucky you were, and how much you were gonna love it, considering how overjoyed he was when his daughter came along.

The next was Wanda.

Well, it’s pretty basic.

Natasha was filling out her paperwork alone in the common room, and in walks Wanda. Who’s eyes blew wide.

It wasn’t Wanda's fault. Natasha was thinking so much about the baby and everything that was going on, that the brunette was just bombarded with the information.

The girl teared up and uttered a small, “Congratulations.”

Natasha snapped her head up, realising what had just happened, and sent the girl a small smile, “Thank you.”

Natasha and Wanda may or may not have spent a good ten minutes crying with one another out of pure happiness.

And then. It was finally time to tell the rest of them.

You were all sat around the almost gigantic dining table, eating dinner together. For one of the first times in forever.

Sam, Thor, Tony, and now Wanda, smiling at you both. Knowing what was soon to come.

Thor could hardly sit still with his excitement.

“Do you wanna tell them, or shall I?” you whispered into Natasha’s ear.

“You get their attention and I’ll tell them,” she responded in the same way.

You nodded once in confirmation before you cleared your throat and stood up.

“Guys, Nat and I have something to tell you all-” Thor rocked back and forth in his seat, utensils gripped in his hands, making you wonder how he wasn't bending them, eager smile stretching across his face. “-We wanted to wait to tell you all this, but as you can tell from Thor's reaction if we don’t do it now, then he will.”

“You guys are getting married?!” Steve asked, happily.

“Uh, no. Actually-”

Natasha stood up beside you, and announced to them all, “I’m pregnant.”

It was silent for a few seconds. Then it all kicked off.

Everyone but the four who already knew stood up shouting their congratulations, and happiness. Walking towards you do give you both tight hugs.

“Wait,” Bruce said suddenly, looking at the four still seated, “Did you guys already know?”

Tony nodded his head. Then Clint, who still had Natasha in his arms, slowly turned his head to face her. Taking note of her bashful smile.

Man, Clint was pissed, that he was told after those four. And even more so along with the rest of the team, when others were told alone.

He didn’t talk to you for a good couple of hours... some of the quietest hours of your life.

And that's pretty much it.

There were still many people for you to tell. And then you had to tell the world too. But that could be left for another day. You just had to make sure Thor kept on not being able to use the internet.

That was until Steve decided to speak again.

“So, when’s the wedding?”

“I thought I told you we weren’t engaged?” You looked at him confused, as you ate.

“Yeah, but you two are having a baby?”

“So?”

“Well, it's just the right thing to do!”

“God, Steve,” Natasha smirked, bringing her glass of water to her lips, “You are so old fashioned.”

#incorrectfawsl #anon #ask me some things #i answer some things #ldspeaks #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel #MCU

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lovelyirony · 4 years ago

Text

times the avengers tried to make tony blush + the one time rhodey showed them how it was done

It was a well-established fact of life that Tony Stark was without a doubt one of the most shameless individuals in the world. From wild parties in his early twenties to the most insane stories some of his former flames have told, Tony Stark is very much not someone who anyone would call a prude.

Now, the Avengers know this. They’ve known it from Natasha’s gentle ribbing at Tony because of her past as a security member, or the almost casual way Tony will talk about certain subjects as if it’s an article in Wall Street.

So they wanted to see if they could trip him up. Something had to do it, right? There had to be something that would get him to stutter or blush or get flustered.

But it didn’t seem like anything could.

They’d bring up anything, ask him if he’d tried anything out of the ordinary, but Tony always answered it as if he was answering whether or not he’d eaten lunch.

“Well yeah, I did try that Bruce, but it wasn’t really all that fun. Now candle wax, on the other hand...that’s a party.”

“Good to know,” Bruce says, turning away with a defeated sigh. He hands Nat the five dollars as bet, and they wait more.

They leave Clint’s laptop up with an old article about one of Tony’s past trysts, and Tony looks at them and looks at it.

“What do you guys think of my outfit? I think that one of Pepper’s magazines mentioned that the 90s were becoming back into style, which means I can finally bring those leather lace-up pants that Rhodey despises out of storage...”

Steve gets a look on his face, his eyes lighting up as his mouth spreads into a grin.

“That’s it!”

Thor and Clint turn to him.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Tony and Rhodey have been together, right?” Steve asks. “So Rhodey obviously knows him better than most of us. He’ll definitely know what makes him blush.”

“You’re a genius,” Clint crows.

“He made an obvious connection, don’t give him too much credit,” Bruce jokes. “But come on, let’s go get Rhodey.”

Rhodey thinks the Avengers are ridiculous.

Trying to make his husband blush with talk of sex when Tony’s practically an expert in the subject? Oh please.

“You seriously expected him to blush when you talked about the complexities of a sex dungeon?” Rhodey asks. “Come on, he’s helped construct them for some friends before.”

“He has?!” Steve exclaims. “Why?”

“Because he studied basic structural engineering and architecture in college and knows what you need. He also really likes secret rooms. There are some in the Tower. He not shown you?”

There’s a mix of “yes”, “no”, and “well he didn’t show me.”

Rhodey sighs.

“Look. I’m coming by team dinner tonight because Tony wants me there and he made me promise him to make my fruit salad, because somehow it tastes better than literally the exact same thing that the store sells. I’ll show you guys how it’s done at seven.”

They are excited, of course. A chance to finally see Tony blush and turn tomato-red is an auspicious occasion, especially when he has no idea that Rhodey’s agreed to help them with this, and so he won’t be expecting any of it.

Natasha smoothly greets Rhodey at the door.

“Do we even get a hint?”

“You’re not going to like it,” he answers.

“And why would that be?” Natasha asks.

“Enough questions and take this fruit bowl,” Rhodey says. “Come on.”

Natasha huffs, but nods at the other Avengers. Might as well pretend like Rhodey told her the plan than be caught unawares.

He goes over to the kitchen island, greeting Tony with a kiss on the cheek and a hug from behind.

“Hey baby,” Rhodey says, smiling. “You’re looking gorgeous today.”

Tony wriggles out of his hold, turning red.

“Honey bear, leave that when we don’t have guests,” Tony stresses, laughing nervously as Rhodey comes in closer to him, laying another kiss on his cheek.

“We’ve been married for years, Tones. Come on. You have to stop blushing every single time I kiss you.”

Tony scowls, swiping the fruit bowl.

“I only invited you here for the fruit, darling.”

Rhodey smirks, looking at the Avengers.

“Yeah, well, I came here for other reasons. You know your team was trying to make you blush?”

“Oh no, who got you to do this?” Tony asks, looking accusatorily at his team. “This doesn’t count, you know. You cannot use my husband to get your gains.”

“Too late, he was used quite nicely,” Thor says, grinning. “Got a picture of it and everything. Thanks for joining us for dinner, by the way.”

“No problem. Heard that Clint was bringing the weird appetizer, and I figured I needed to try it.”

Steve is staring.

“That...that’s it? Calling Tony gorgeous is what did it?”

“What can I say? My husband likes the small things,” Rhodey says with a shrug. “But let’s eat.”

Tony smiles over in Rhodey’s direction, grinning.

His husband is ridiculous.

(Not that he minds.)

#nsfk #listen tony is shameless but gets flustered out of his gourd when rhodey does anything remotely sweet #loveyirony writes #avengers as a family #kind of #ironhusbands #rhodeytony #rhodey #tony stark #iron man #war machine

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 34

💖 first time reader click here 💖

A little bit of plot, but mostly ironstrange x reader filthy porn. Bukkake stuff. Stephen finally opening up a lil bit, I mean... I've slept through a 1/3 of a hospital and lemme tell you, doctors are kinky bastards. On the same note, there's definitely going to be a chapter where all three men are involved after the plot shit is resolved.

There was something big brewing. I had a hunch... which was more like a strong sense of doom... hanging over me and the rest of the world. Peter also had noticed the sudden spike in anxiety, quoting the sudden disappearance of many low-tier mutants from the streets. Usually, Peter dealt with at least a few enhanced enemies during his patrols but the closer it got to Christmas, the less enhanced bothered with small-time crimes, the more intense the buzzing of his Spidey sense became.

Now that my immediate lack of income wasn't a problem anymore, I set business onto that damn mercenary. I was no spy, I was no SHIELD operative but... I could be very clever.

First things first, I had to make sure I would stay alive no matter what. A subdermal tracker was a good guarantee of security and I spent many hours making one - having to keep it a secret was incredibly hard, I hated lying to my loves and I hated avoiding Wanda even more - I was constantly on the edge around the telepath, hyperfocused on keeping up the pretense of normalcy.

I wouldn't be me if I couldn't successfully pull off a whole ass façade. Unfortunately, the continued failures of the people searching left and right for the mercenary only fueled my strength for the inevitable fuck-fest that I would have to create in order to make sure my people get the peace they fucking deserve. The web of lies grew in size every damn day.

Subdermal tracker, an implant that reports directly to Friday upon activation. It hurt like a bitch - I had cut myself open, an inch wide gash on the inside of my forearm - and put it in without any anesthesia in my own bathroom, not even thinking twice before making up a lie that I had been careless in the lab and hurt myself.

An antidote to common tranquilizers, creating it gave me a headache the size of Moscow but I'd been successful; Tony assembled the whole team when he found it out, offering me a ridiculous amount of money for the formula. It was weird. SHIELD was interested, too, and I had to witness Tony and Coulson argue. Apparently, the agency wanted to recruit me and Tony was adamantly against it, totally forgetting the promise Natasha had given me. In the end, the spy and Coulson shared a quiet conversation and the man left, respectfully complimenting my skills.

I sold the formula to Stark Industries, unable to get rid of the weirdness of the situation. I had to shake hands with my own boyfriend and his ex-girlfriend... In a business setting. What. Just what. Bucky and Stephen couldn't stop laughing at the face I made all throughout that day - and Clint even went as far as to bake me a gag cake, a cartooney handshake drawn in frosting on top of it. I hit him with a spatula, Loki smiled in his direction for the first time in, like, ever. It was a trip and Tony had way too much fun with the incident.

Perhaps, turning myself into a cyborg stew wasn't the best plan that was possible to think up in a few weeks' time but I've never claimed to be exceptionally intelligent; if anything, I've always considered myself to be a moderately educated idiot. It is common knowledge that there are two halves of a whole idiot: my second half was on his way from California, having had received my very detailed e-mail about the whole cursed box fiasco and the consequences that followed. I could barely contain my excitement at the prospect of seeing uncle Eddie and his symbiote again.

Tony wasn't even half as excited; if anything, he bordered on outright hostile, bickering, and sassing everybody left and right. It could have been the situation at hand finally getting on his last nerves. It could have been his jealousy, the same that appeared every time I paid extra attention to someone that wasn't him, Bruce or Stephen. Either way, Bruce was sighing all the time now and Stephen's remarks began to fill with poison once again.

Just like the good old times, I guess. I was forced to pull a Me over and over, interrupting their petty arguments with increasingly absurd remarks. I felt like everybody was laughing at me these days, which ended in only one way it could have...

"Brat," Stephen's patience was paper-thin and, being forcefully distracted from yelling at Tony, he directed his angst at the nearest person - me. "I oughta put you over my knee. I swear to Cosmos..."

"Blah, blah, blah. Don't you ever get tired of listening to yourself talk?" I raised my eyebrows, tone deceptively calm. "You're talking too much for someone who can't even..." I didn't get to finish my sentence, suddenly finding my mouth firmly glued shut. It was magic - the sensation was pulling, but not unpleasant. Reminded me of a ball gag Tony had used on me in the early days of our relationship.

"Now, Dumbledore, hold your horses..." Tony interjected looking none-too-happy. The engineer placed a warning arm on the sorcerer's bicep, their little spat seemingly forgotten.

"What, Tony? She's been nothing but a mouthy urchin the past few days, I can't stand it anymore," They shared a meaningful look; no matter how much Tony wanted to argue, he knew Stephen was right. What he didn't know was that there probably have been a magic versus science altercation... Or worse. Humiliation was a small price to pay for some (relative) peace.

I did what I do best. I annoyed them further, throwing up a juicy middle finger to the two men and turned around with a huff, mind set on finding Loki to undo the mute ban Stephen gave me. Needless to say, I didn't make it very far.

In mere seconds, I was sandwiched between the two men, Stephen's finger delicately holding my chin to force me to look into his eyes. Tony was holding onto my shoulders from behind me - I could feel the tension, my engineer was almost buzzing with it. I was pretty sure my eyes were laughing anyway because Stephen's frown slowly transformed into a coy smirk once his stormy blues focused on my face.

"Brat," He repeated once again. "She's doing this on purpose."

"I can't say I'm surprised," Tony's breath tickled the nape of my neck. "That does sound like our little Princess," Apparently, it took all of a 0.1 second for Tony to switch from annoyed to horny. Men, they were so easy to play. "Baby, if you wanted our attention you could have just said so," He chastised me, hands sliding down to my waist.

I hummed, and then aggressively hummed some more until Stephen removed the magical gag. "Not like you'd notice it, being occupied with tearing each other's hair out," I pouted.

The sorcerer briefly averted his eyes, leaning down to softly kiss my pout. It was very unlikely I'd get an actual apology but a kiss I won't be complaining about either. "So, your best tactic was to annoy us even more? How does that work out for you?"

I pulled on the tied fabric around his waist, bringing him closer to me. "Pretty good, if I'm being honest. You're exactly where I wanted you to be," Carelessly, I began untying the layers of silks and cotton I had become intimately familiar with over the course of the past few weeks. Most of the time Steph wore his wizard garbs and while figuring out how to undo them was a trip at first, I had gotten him desperate enough a few times, for him to show me a few tips and tricks for easier access.

Tony snorted somewhere behind me. "You just want us for our bodies," His hands wormed their way under my shirt, brushing the underside of my breasts. Bra? Hardly know her. "Our beautiful, sexy bodies." Yes Tony, very humble.

"When will you learn, people?" I asked rhetorically, simultaneously leaning into both Tony's and Stephen's touch. "Why fight each other when you could be fucking me into oblivion instead?"

Stephen snorted, still not completely used to the at times crude things that left my (and occasionally Tony's) mouth. I had a hunch the sorcerer was holding back somewhat - for whatever reason - and I was eagerly waiting for him to get comfortable enough to reveal that special part of himself. Whatever it was, I just knew it was delicious and sinful and-

"Do you really think I will be giving you what you want after your little... Stunt?" Steph went balls out; his voice dropped and the intensity of his stare left me breathless. The hand that was stroking my face wrapped around my throat as he had some sort of a silent conversation with Tony.

"Yeah," I emphasized the word with an inaudible 'duh' behind it but obediently trotted along as Stephen backed up towards the couch, leading me by the throat like a pet on a leash. I was steadily going into 'no thoughts, head empty' territory.

"I like it when you get all bossy," Tony remarked casually but he was close enough for me to hear the strain in his voice. Every time we fucked, Tony eagerly gave up the control to Stephen. I definitely saw the appeal. Stephen Strange demanded authority effortlessly, his stern but fair attitude simply demanded to kneel.

That's just what I did. As soon as Stephen made himself comfortable on the Italian leather couch, I dropped to my knees, looking up at the man with big round eyes. Just like Tony and Bruce, Stephen had his own weaknesses when it came to moi and I wasn't ashamed to exploit them. Steph's stroked my hair, carding careful fingers through it, slowly unbuttoning his pants with his other hand.

"If you insist on being mouthy, I have a better task for you," He husked, pulling me closer towards him. I called it his doctor voice. Honestly, I don't have a clue how his surgical team could be around him with their pants on back in the day... The man was a snack on a silver platter.

Steph's erection sprang free. I didn't hesitate to wrap my hand around it, stroking the underside of his glans just like he liked it, looking to the side where Tony landed on the couch next to Stephen, a curious look on his face. Yeah, Tony liked to watch. Me and Stephen or me and Bruce... Me and Stephen and Bruce? That's an idea for later.

"Don't mind little old me," Tony smirked his trademark Stark mischief, getting comfortable, ditching his oil-stained shirt and unbuttoning his pants to lazily palm himself through his boxers. "Carry on," The smirk only grew when Tony noticed both me and Steph eyeing him with amusement.

I hid my grin, nodding my head, before wrapping my lips around the tip of Stephen's cock, relaxing my throat to prepare for the intrusion. Sweet and salty, the slit on his cockhead was mercilessly teased by the tip of my tongue.

Stephen murmured encouragements under his breath as I began to bob up and down, him controlling the pace with a hand in my hair, just the right balance between cruel and gentle. The sorcerer was always too good to me, bringing me to the point of overstimulation and instantly soothing the ache afterward; "Fuck, darling, your mouth feels like heaven," He groaned as I snuck a look upwards to see his lips parted and a steady flush crawling up his neck.

"She knows how to work a man, doesn't she?" Tony's lust had him panting, hips moving into his own hand. He leaned closer to Stephen, brushing my hair behind my ear with a tender hand. "Merlin needs to share," Tony began pulling me in his direction. I reluctantly let go of Stephen's cock, keeping up the pace with my hand as I scooted closer to Tony to be able to mouth at his stiff erection.

Watching me suck cock always got Tony hard enough to pound nails with. I couldn't blame him, I knew what I could do and did well; by the time I made my way down his thick flesh, drool was dripping down my chin and the make-up around my eyes was surely smeared by tears. My engineer was much less gentle than Steph, pounding my face without reservations.

"I know you can take it, baby girl, fuck," My face was held in his strong grip, thumbs digging into my jaw. "Such a good girl," The two words went straight down to my pussy and I had to squirm and clench my thighs together, whining at the lack of friction.

The air was pierced by a low moan - Stephen was fisting his erection almost desperately now, almost as desperately as I was humping the air, whining like a bitch in heat at the taste of Tony's cock in my mouth. I knew neither of the men would last long, not with all that pent up tension running through their minds and bodies.

"Fuck, come here, baby girl," The engineer yanked me off his cock, gripping the base of it so forcefully his knuckles turned white. I was all but dragged into the space between them; still kneeling, barely seeing with snot and tears smeared all over my face, I couldn't hold in the broken moan as the realization set in.

"Keep your eyes open!" Steph instructed furiously, scooting to tower over me. Tony followed in his steps as I obediently lifted my eyes to their cocks and then their faces; nearly identical furrowed brow expressions stared back at me, lips moist and eyes wide. Both men stroked themselves with renewed vigor.

I hummed softly before sticking out my tongue; their reaction didn't let me wait long. Strings of pearly white cum landed in my hair, on my face; I felt the warmth on my skin and tasted their salt and musk on the tip of my tongue, reflexively swallowing each and every drop that landed in my mouth, savoring it just like I savored the sinful groans that left their mouths.

"Fuck, you're so good to us," Tony panted, gracelessly falling backward onto the couch.

Stephen, however, didn't hurry to catch his breath, giving me a thoughtful look. His fingers shook more than ever but he paid no mind to the discomfort, gathering the cum dripping down my face with two fingers and offering it to me, holding them up to my lips as I gently cleaned them off. And he did it again, and again, until Tony gave a weak moan of recognition, throwing an arm under his head.

"Be polite, Princess," Stephen's voice hadn't lost the lust in it just yet.

"Thank you, sir," I mumbled, utterly captivated by the way he was looking at me. Stormy blues radiated a strong sense of intensity, devotion perhaps, that I wasn't ready for.

Stephen smiled at me, almost coyly, before kneeling right next to me and bringing me over the edge with a few sharp, clever movements of his hand. I held onto his shoulders for dear life, barely noticing Tony's reaction - if there was one - my other lover seemed to be as surprised as I was, choosing to hang back and observe the unusual situation.

I had a feeling that whatever it was, it would make another appearance during our playtime. It wasn't just sex, it wasn't making love - it was... Something. I loved every second of it.

@another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @toomanyrobins @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming

#bun writes #party favours #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #Tony Stark x reader #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x reader #tony stark x you #bruce banner x you #stephen strange x you #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #tony stark smut #stephen strange smut

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kairos-polaris · 4 years ago

Text

Revelations and not so secret crushes

A little gift for @bunathebunny . Also @miraculousmelodies , like I promised

People make mistakes all the time. And it's okay! Failure is a part of progress and if you never fail, then you don't do anything at all.

One may argue that mistaking potions for milk and eating someone's special macaroons wasn't this type of mistake. "He should have been more careful," they say. But did you try to make coffee in a kitchen littered with potions while also being sleep deprived? No? Thought so.

The last paragraph was specifically written for Dick's younger brothers, Jason Todd and Tim Drake. Those two decided that it was a great idea to make fun of their dearest elder brother and his very unfortunate mistake. And even if Tim was perfectly aware of struggles that came with making coffee while being sleep deprived, he didn't have to worry that white liquid may be a potion, not milk.

But in the end Dick was very grateful for that small mistake. It has resolved several conflicts and had very unpredictable consequences.

***

It was morning. Just a normal winter morning. You know, when it's too dark and far too cold and you don't want to leave your bed? That was a morning like that.

Normal men don't get up at six a.m but Richard "Dick" Grayson wasn't one. And it's good, because his family was neither normal nor sane.

"Being normal is boring," his girlfriend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, would say. If it were someone else, Dick would wholeheartedly agree with them while hanging upside down from the chandelier in the manor.

But because it was Marinette, Dick had to immediately assume she hasn't been sleeping or eating healthy for the last 48 hours. Usually, he was wrong, but he did enjoy taking care of her.

Another proof that shows how much Dick Grayson isn't a normal or sane man is vigilantism. You see, normal people deal with trauma by talking about it with a therapist or their friends. And do you know what did Dick do? He donned his family's colour and decided to beat up criminals. What a great idea! And Bruce Wayne allowed it because, apparently, fighting crime is an appropriate hobby for a nine-year-old boy. (Don't worry, Brucie, we know that Dick Grayson is too stubborn and he forced you to make him your sidekick, we don't blame you much)

No matter how much not normal or insane Dick was, he was a good man who wanted to help people. That's why he didn't complain to Bruce about being tired after patrols. Much.

It didn't mean he didn't complain to Marinette though. Hugs and kisses were an added bonus to her being a very good listener. But that morning Marinette was too busy to even notice him. Dick tried his hardest to swallow his disappointment. He knew how important every commission was to Marinette. It was her passion and her life.

He sighed with the most miserable expression he could muster but Marinette didn't even look up. She continued sewing and ignoring his brilliant performance. Dick huffed with annoyance. How could she ignore him when he was sitting on their bed looking so sad and exhausted and hot?

***

Kitchen was the best room in their apartment. It was also the safest one because of Marinette's protection charms and spells. There was always a faint smell of pastry and delicious food.

Preparing coffee was completely mechanical. His tiredness didn't let him comprehend his own actions. That's why he didn't notice the strange taste of the drink as he should have.

Dick immediately felt better after finishing his coffee. He felt like a burden was lifted from his shoulders. It made him think about Marinette. His lovely girlfriend. He wanted to, no, he craved to see her. He could bet she smelled amazing.

Marinette was still working when he entered their room (she preferred her bedroom to any office). His heart swelled with tenderness at the image before him. Marinette was biting her lip, strands of hair in her face. She was also wearing his sweater, which made him roll his eyes, because it was the very same sweater he had lost. She was so concentrated that she didn't even notice him entering their bedroom.

Dick slowly approached Marinette to not spook her. "I love you, Cupcake," he confessed out of blue. Marinette jumped at the sound of his voice making Dick cringe internally. "I'm sorry for startling you, Mari." The woman just laughed and took off her glasses. Apparently, sewing in deem light isn't good for your eyes. And how could she know that?

"No, don't be sorry. I should pay more attention to my surroundings," Marinette suddenly stopped mid sentence. "I'm sorry for ignoring you earlier, Birdy. Do you want a hug?" Dick grinned at her offer and immediately scooped her in his arms.

"I know it's been a stressful week. What do you think about staying in bed the whole day? We can watch a movie. We can watch the Ladybug one and make fun of inaccuracies. Or any other superhero movie," he ranted excitedly. Marinette laughed a little and pulled back slightly. Dick's was adorable, but Marinette had a feeling that he wouldn't appreciate her laugh.

"I have to finish this dress for Clara, you know that," Marinette sighed tiredly. She really wanted to take a break and spend the day with her boyfriend. He always knew when she was too tired to continue working. Maybe, today was a day like that?

It was unfair to keep Marinette from her passion and Dick knew it. But! He wanted to spend some time with his wonderful girlfriend. It wasn't his fault she was the cutest person he has ever met. And he still couldn't make her choose between her passion and him. Dick sighed and started moving slowly to let Marinette out.

"Hey, I didn't say no," Marinette laughed at his hopeful gaze. "Yes, I would really like to spend more time with you."

And that's how Marinette found herself suffocating in a tight grip of her boyfriend. She actually didn't mind it. Feeling his weight on her body was the best feeling ever. It reminded her that he was with her, grounded her, when she was too concentrated on her work.

Marinette didn't really focus on the movie that was playing. Something was off and she couldn't focus. Dick was talking but she couldn't understand a word so focused on her feelings.

"...Marinette? Marinette?" Dick's worried voice drew her out of haze. She could see concern in his eyes so she tried smiling as reassuring as possible. Dick didn't seem convinced but hard lines on his face relaxed a little bit.

"I'm sorry. I dozed off. Cuddling with you always makes me sleepy, you know that." Dick sighed and hugged her even tighter. "What were you talking about?"

"I wanted your opinion about the next Titan's mission. You see, Wally has offered this strategy…"

Marinette listened to his every word very attentively. His excitement was obvious in every line and small movement. He was proud of Wally and his ideas, he wanted to share it with her.

"Do you know that you've spent more time complimenting Wally than actually relaying his strategy?" Marinette asked with a teasing smile. His face and neck were immediately covered with red spots.

"I… I… I have a crush on Wally!" Dick blurted out and Marinette felt like all air from her lungs disappeared. Colour left Dick's face immediately after realising what he had said. He started babbling how much he loved her, how important she was for him, he kissed her cheeks and hands. But all Marinette could focus on was that… she had lost a bet. Jason would be unbearable for the next several weeks. Or maybe even months. Marinette shuddered at the thought.

"Marinette, please, say something. Please. I'm sorry," Dick was clearly panicking and for a moment Marinette wanted to prank him. Pretend that she was hurt and then explain that it was because of her bet with Jason. But it felt too cruel, so she took his hand and smiled reassuringly.

"I knew it," she said, and Dick's bewildered expression was worth her honesty. "And it's okay, because it's possible to love multiple people at the same time. You loving Wally doesn't mean you don't love me." Dick stayed still for a long moment before leaning to her and knocking her breath out with a kiss. Marinette tried to lean away but he chased her lips every time, continuing kissing her.

"I love you so much. I don't know what I have done to deserve someone like you, but I will keep you until the end of the Universe," he whispered into her lips when they finally pulled a part.

"I love you, too. And falling for you felt like the easiest thing in the world," she said breathlessly, making Dick snort. He let out an involuntary whine when she leaned even further away.

"Why were you so upset?" Dick asked after several minutes of silence. Marinette murmured something into his shirt but he couldn't understand a word. "Can you repeat it please? I didn't understand a word you've said."

"Because I've lost a bet," she repeated just barely louder, but thankfully Dick heard her clearly this time.

"A bet?" he asked with the most confused and bewildered expression possible.

"You see, both Jason and I knew about your crush on Wally. And one day we were bored, so we started talking about you two. Jason said that you would blurt it out during an inappropriate moment but I thought you would sit me down and explain everything. So now, because of you I will have to give Jason 10 dollars," Marinette explained, carefully gouging hir reaction.

Dick prepared himself to hear a lot of different explanations. They varied from "I was surprised and didn't know how to react" to "I am unhappy with this and everything I said was for your comfort". He did not expect that the reason for her surprise was a bet. A bet. With his brother. His brother who also knew about his crush on Wally.

"How… How did you two find out? I thought I was doing a great job concealing my baby crush."

"Oh, it was so hard! You totally don't look at him with a stupid lovesick grin. And you totally don't laugh at his stupid jokes. You don't hold hands and touch each other all the time. You don't look both at me and him when you make jokes or laugh. Oh no! You do all of that and more!" Marinette exclaimed with a fake surprise.

"...I do?" Dick asked, his voice so small. "And you really don't mind it?"

"I really don't mind. As I said before, I'm secure in our relationship and I know that you love me. Also, I really like Wally. You have a good taste," Dick's smile at her words was brighter than thousands of suns. He picked her up and started spinning her around. Marinette's laugh filled their apartment, and in that moment Dick knew everything was going to be alright.

***

Later, much later, Dick was panicking. Everything sounded so easy when Marinette was with him. "Just go and confess to him,"she said. "I'm sure he feels the same," Marinette said, patient as ever, when Dick was panicking about every possible negative outcome.

"What if he rejects me? What if he wants me to break up with you?" he asked Marinette then. He tugged his hair from the frustration, but Marinette just smiled and took his hands.

"If he rejects you, I will hold you until you feel better. We will eat ice cream and watch cheesy movies. And Wally is a good person, I'm sure he would never ask us to break up." Dick briefly thanked all gods for giving him Marinette before leaning in to kiss her.

"I love you," he murmured into her lips.

But now he was alone in their apartment, because, unlike him, Marinette had a job to do. Dick sighed the tenth time in a row. He didn't have to worry about Marinette's reaction to his confession, because she was the one who had asked him out. "I don't hesitate anymore," she had said with a brilliant smile.

Well, Dick knew one thing for sure: he was a coward and would never confess to Wally without Marinette being there. And he couldn't ask anyone for advice. How does one explain that they are in love with two people at the same time? Should he just google it?

His musings were interrupted by a series of long knocks and a loud voice. Was it Jason screaming. "Hey, Dickhead, asking someone to hangout with you and then not showing up is such a dick move!" Yes, that was Jason. Dick scowled before remembering that he had invited Jason and Tim to spend time together.

He grinned and leaped out of the bedroom. Hanging out with his brothers would be a perfect excuse to not confess to Wally! A great timing on their part.

"Hey, guys..!" he was rudely interrupted by a shirt thrown into his face.

"Get dressed, Dickie bird. I don't want to see proofs of you and Pixie having a healthy sexual life." Dick flushed bright red when he realized that he was naked. He ran back to his bedroom followed by both Tim's and Jason's laugh. God, how embarrassing.

***

Wally was bored. He felt like he could die from boredom. And the day had started so nicely. He woke up early and prepared himself a very tasty cup of tea. Wally finished every small task around his apartment. He started reading several different books but none of them piqued his interest. There was nothing interesting on TV.

Wally sighed again. And again. And again. He felt like an aristocrat, laying on his coach with a wine glass full of water in his hand. The only thing missing was a manor. And nicer clothes. And servants. And wine. Actually, a lot of things were missing.

Jason's invitation to hangout felt like a blessing. Finally, something interesting to do. His heart totally didn't flutter in his chest when he found out that Dick would be there, too. No, sir, no. Dick was his best friend and nothing more. He was also dating Marinette, Wally's another very good friend.

Wally was the first one to arrive at the bar Dick had offered to meet in. It took all of his mental strength to not start bouncing from all the energy.

"Hi, Wally," Wally's smile dimmed a little when he realized it was Jason, not Dick. "I thought Dickie would be here first. You know, considering it was his idea."

Wally nodded at Jason's words. He thought he would have at least several minutes alone with Dick, who seemed to avoid him lately. And if he did pay attention to Wally, Marinette would always be there. It wasn't a bad thing per se, because Marinette was amazing, but Wally wanted some alone time with his best bro.

"I wonder why," Wally mussed at loud. Jason smiled in agreement and started talking about neutral themes. Wally could do that. After a day of pure boredom everything was interesting.

Twenty minutes later Tim was there, but Dick was nowhere in sight. Wally frowned. Did something happen? Dick would never miss family hangouts.

"You are late, Replacement," Jason chided Tim, conveniently forgetting he himself came later. Wally laughed at the sheer hypocrisy, but it was a very Jason move.

"Well, Dick is not here, so I don't think it counts," Tim shrugged. He was holding a half-empty cup of coffee (what else could it be?) and clearly needed more sleep. Wally internally shook his head. Sleeping as little as Tim was surely wasn't good for his health. Where were Dick and Bruce looking?

"Where is Dick anyway?" Jason asked, letting out an annoyed huff. "Did he do that so Timmy and I could hang out together? Not a very smart move, because I can just leave now and he will never know."

"He could have just forgotten about it," Wally suggested. He was met with two doubtful gazes. "Yeah, it's very unlikely. Something has happened and he can't leave?"

"Why didn't he say anything then?" Jason asked. He was leaning down on the wall of the bar with a small frown. "We should call him or Marinette."

"Marinette is working so she can't know where he is. We should call Dick directly," Tim said, already holding his phone. He was the one who dialed Dick, but Dick didn't answer not after the first call, nor the second, nor the third. Wally was worried. Dick always answered when someone called. Something must have happened.

"I was right. We should go and check on him. Should we walk or should I run to his apartment?" Wally asked, worry laced in his voice.

"Let's ride. I parked my car nearby," Tim said and turned around, walking to his car. Wally looked at Jason who just shrugged and went after Tim. Well, it seemed like he didn't have a choice then.

The ride to Dick's apartment felt longer than it should have. Wally was burning from all the anxious energy. What if something has happened to Dick? What if they were too late? What if Dick just didn't want to see them? Wally didn't know what would hurt more.

The apartment's doors were locked, which was a good sign. It meant that nobody had broken inside. It also meant that they couldn't enter. Fortunately, Tim had his own key so it wasn't a problem. ("Marinette gave it to me," Tim answered Wally's silent question. "She wanted me to know that I'm always welcome here". "Oh, Pixie didn't give me my own key! Does she not want to see my handsome face?" Jason asked more dramatically than needed. Wally totally wasn't disappointed that he didn't have his own key. It didn't mean that Dick didn't trust him, right?)

The apartment was clean, no visible signs of someone breaking in. Wally looked around, trying to find some clues that would help to understand the situation. Jason yelled something, but Wally didn't pay enough attention to understand him.

Wally turned around at the sound of Dick's voice only to look away immediately. He did not expect to see Dick naked. Wally blushed, thinking about the man's muscles and biceps, small scars on his chest and arms, scratches, and hickeys… Wally paled immediately. Oh, yes, hickeys, because Dick Grayson, his best friend, was dating Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Wally couldn't let himself forget.

It was easier to think after Dick had left. Now, Wally didn't have to use all of his mental strength to not ogle his best friend. Wally wondered why he had reacted this way. It's not like he had never seen Dick naked before. "You saw him when you were changing. You were both naked then. But here, it's much more intimate," his traitorous mind whispered.

"I'm not waiting for the golden boy to get dressed. I'm going to the kitchen. Pixie always has something sweet there," Jason said and walked out of the living room. Wally looked at Tim who just shrugged and followed his brother. Well, it seemed like he had no choice but to go to the kitchen.

The room was full of light and delicious smells. The table was littered with numerous vials, pastry, herbs, and other things Wally couldn't identify. He breathed out, feeling more relaxed than ever, despite his complicated feelings. Marinette's presence and influence were obvious there, and she always had the way to make people feel better. She was just magic that way.

"Wally! I didn't know you were here," Dick's excited voice interrupted his thoughts. Wally didn't even hear him coming in. Do not think about his body. Do not think about his body. Do not think about his body. "I'm really sorry about forgetting our hangout. I'm deeply ashamed."

"You wish I said "it's okay, I forgive you". But I won't! I will always tease you about it, so get ready!" said Jason, while rummaging through a freezer. "Where is milk, Dickhead? I wanted to make a cup of tea for myself, but I can't find anything here."

"Oh, we ran out of milk," Dick replied easily before a panicked expression settled on his face. "Wait… If we ran out of milk, then what did I add to my coffee this morning?"

"Welp, I hope it wasn't one of Marinette's potions," Wally offered sympathetically, but one look at Dick's panicked expression hinted that it was most likely what had happened. And wasn't that funny? Judging by Jason's laugh, he also thought it was hilarious.

"We can call her and ask about the effects of that particular potion?" Tim offered, trying to be serious but burst out laughing. Dick did not appreciate the lack of concern from his brothers. What if the potion hurt him and the effects could never be reversed? "It's very funny, but we really should call Marinette. We don't know how it can affect Dick. It could be really harmful," Tim said after calming down. Even Jason stopped laughing.

They did call Marinette. It must have been the smartest decision in several hours. But she didn't answer. Calling her five more times didn't help. They just were directed to voicemail. Marinette's cheery voice telling them "Hi! You've reached Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I'm very sorry, but I'm busy and can't answer you right now. You can leave me a message and I will call you later! Bye!" didn't help.

"And what should we do?" Wally asked, interrupting the awkward silence. Well, it wasn't awkward per se, but Jason desperately trying and failing to suppress his laugh did make Dick feel uncomfortable.

"You can try and recall everything that happened. This way we can know how exactly the potion affected you," Tim offered with a small shrug. "Start from the morning and up until this moment."

"I was really tired after patrol last night, so I tried complaining to Marinette, but she was too busy so she ignored me. I decided to make a cup of coffee. I actually felt better after it, but I had this strange need to go and hug Marinette, tell her how much I love her." Wally totally didn't feel a pang in his chest. He wasn't jealous. He didn't want Dick to confess to him, because they were best friends and nothing more.

"What happened next? Or are you hiding something?" Seemingly innocent questions (especially, considering it was Jason who asked) flustered Dick so much he was completely red. He's so handsome…no, bad, Wally, stop. "Oh, you are hiding something."

"Marinette and I cuddled, while watching movies," Dick answered, still as red as a tomato. "And then we had sex!"

Wally wasn't jealous Wally wasn't jealous Wally wasn't jealous Wally wasn't jealous Wally wasn't… Oh, he was so jealous

This time silence was certainly awkward. Very awkward. Dick was burning from embarrassment. Wally was trying to convince himself he wasn't jealous. Tim was thinking about anything other than his brother's love life.

And only Jason was amused. The day was working out great for him. He won 10 dollars. Yes, it wasn't much, but the satisfaction of winning the bet with Marinette was worse so much more. It would be even better if Dick blurted out that he has a crush on Wally with him nearby. But it seemed that his dearest older brother would rather embarrass himself than confess.

"Is it everything? Because I think you have left out something," but Dick just glared at him. Well, time for big guns. "Were you and Pixie talking about something? Something very important? Something that will have a big influence on your relationship?" he then feigned a scandalised gasp. "Did you confess that you have cheated on her?! Did you cheat on Marinette?!"

Dick's glare was the funniest thing in the world, and Jason's snickers just made him angrier. "Nothing like! I just told her that I have a crush on Wally!" His satisfied expression slowly morphed into one of shock. "I meant to say that I had told her about my crush on Wally! No, not that! About patrol! Yes, patrol!"

"Your crush on me?" Wally asked, his voice small and soft. He clearly was shocked by Dick's confession. He looked even more surprised than Dick was. "Are you serious?"

Tim felt like he was in a tv drama. Secret crushes? Check? Oblivious main characters? Check? Mean brother Jason? Check. The drama of the reveal? Check. Friends to lovers? Check? Another love interest? Check. The only difference was Marinette. That woman certainly wasn't the "evil and annoying wife". He briefly wondered how she had reacted, but judging that Dick was still alive she was very nice.

"How unpredictable, how surprising," Jason stage whispered, leaning down to Tim. This time both Wally and Dick glared, which was somehow even more amusing. Even Tim was cackling.

"Get out of here. I… Wally and I have to talk about my stupid slip. Go!" Dick shouted, basically throwing them out of the kitchen. Tim and Jason exchanged a knowing look and burst out laughing. Knowing that it pissed Dick off made them laugh even harder.

Dick didn't know what to say or how to react. He wanted to wait for Marinette to confess to Wally. She would know what to say and how to explain his feelings better than he could ever do. Her presence would give him strength and courage. He didn't want to blurt it out. Again. He was an idiot and Wally would never like him back.

"So, you like me?" Wally asked with a nervous chuckle. His crush liked him. His crush liked him. His crush liked him. Wally could not believe it was real and he wasn't dreaming.

"I..yes. Yes, I do," Dick stated, more confident than before. "You are smart, amazing, and incredible. You have a beautiful smile that lights up every room. Your plans are brilliant, but you don't always see it. You are very important to me so yes, I like you."

Wally felt like his head was spinning from Dick's compliments and the sincerety in his eyes. Blush rised to his cheeks. He was at loss of words. How should he react?! Compliment him back?

"I… I really like you, too," Wally finally answered, his throat dry from nerves. Dick broke in a brilliant, brighter than the sun grin. "How did Marinette react to that?"

"Do you want her exact words or just generally?" Dick asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Generally."

"Well, she said that polyamory exists and that me loving you doesn't mean I love her any less," Dick answered with the same gentle smile he always had when talking about Marinette. But this time Wally didn't feel envious or jealous. Dick suddenly looked more nervous than before. "Would you date me? You don't have to date Marinette, but I don't want to break up with her, you know?"

Wally didn't know. He has heard about polyamory and open relationships before, of course. He didn't know what to do or how to act. Would he and Marinette have to share Dick? Would they have a schedule, so they could spend time with Dick? Would they have to be together all the time? But Wally did know that honesty was important in every type of relationship so he took a deep breath and explained everything to Dick.

"Well, neither I nor Marinette have the experience of dating two people at once, so we will have to figure it out. Trials and errors, you know?" Dick offered with a small 0shrug. He looked away, suddenly more nervous than before. His main concern was confessing to Wally, he didn't think how the whole thing would work. "We can try anyway."

"We can try, yeah," Wally repeated with a small smile.

"Now kiss!" Jason groaned from annoyance and lack of patience. Dick felt blush from embarrassment (the amount of times he blushed today was concerning). Jason was not affected by his glare at all. "Well, I'm waiting. Marinette wanted to see your first kiss and I promised her to take a picture," he said gesturing to his phone.

"We won't kiss on camera. We can wait for Marinette," he growled before realising that he hadn't asked Wally how he would feel. Dick could hope the sudden realisation wasn't obvious, but judging by Jason's and Tim's expressions they both have noticed. Nothing to lose then. "Would you mind kissing me with Marinette there? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Wally was silent for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "We can try, I guess," he said before realising one very crucial detail Dick had missed. "When did you two return? Because I remember Dick throwing you out of here."

"When Dick confessed to you? I'm not sure," Tim said with the same tone one would discuss weather, not their brother's love life. Jason nodded in agreement. "Now, we can leave you two alone. Right, Jason?"

"Eh, we all have to make sacrifices for the happiness of our elder brothers," Jason said with a dramatic gasp, but nothing new, nothing new. "Let's go, Timmy, let's go. We are not welcome here." Wally could swear he had heard Tim mutter "it's not like I am the one who suggested to leave" under his breath.

"So, are we waiting for Marinette?" he asked with a nervous chuckle. God, having Dick's undivided attention and being completely alone with him was a nerve-wracking experience. Wally locked his eyes on Dick's lips. They looked even better than usual. Was it because he could kiss him now? Must be. "No, I wanted to kiss you for too long to wait even a second more," Dick murmured before leaning towards Wally.

Kissing Dick blew up his mind. It wasn't something Wally hoped would ever happen but desperately wanted to. Dick's lips were a little bit chapped, just enough to notice but not enough to make their kiss uncomfortable. Wally didn't want to lean away even for a second to take a breath. If it was his last kiss with Dick (and it certainly wasn't), he would enjoy for as long as he could.

"It was just like I imagined it," Wally blurted out when they stopped kissing. He felt breathless and higher than ever.

"So you imagined kissing me?" Dick asked with a smug smile. "Well, I am me and I'm awesome."

"Where was the confidence when you were panicking about confessing to Wally?" Dick and Wally immediately wiped their head towards the voice. There was standing Marinette with a teasing smile and a Polaroid in her hands. "Don't worry! I wasn't standing here creepily and watching you two make out! I just took a photo and left immediately. Didn't want to intrude," she explained upon noticing Dick's and Wally's reaction.

"Why did you take a photo?" asked Dick.

"For my scrapbook, my heart. I have a photo of our first kiss, our first date, from the day we moved in, and when we finally organized everything. And I wanted to have photos of every important milestone in your relationship, too," Marinette explained, while moving gracefully around the kitchen. Her chaotic moves seemed to have a complicated system Dick couldn't understand.

Wally… didn't know what to say. Sure, he knew that Marinette wasn't against their relationship, but he didn't expect her to be so supportive and kind. He felt warmth bloom in his chest. He wasn't in love with Marinette, but right at that moment, in hers and Dick's cluttered kitchen, he felt like falling for her was the easiest thing ever.

But they still had some questions for Marinette to answer.

"Marinette, you love me, right?" Dick waited for Marinette to nod in agreement before continuing talking. "I may or may not have drunk one of your potions! But it was an accident!"

Marinette sighed tiredly. Then she sighed again. And again. And again. Wally stopped counting after five consecutive sighs. She pinched the bridge of her nose before talking again. "It's okay. I shouldn't leave my potions in the kitchen if I don't want anyone to accidentally drink them. I'm not mad, not disappointed. Accidents happen and it's not your fault. I just need you to tell me from what vial you took it and how it affected you, okay?"

It didn't take long for Marinette fo realise what potion Dick had taken. And when she did, she burst out laughing. Unfortunately, Dick and Wally didn't share her knowledge of magic, so they couldn't appreciate the irony of the situation without her help.

"I've been trying to make a way to free kwami. Tbe potion you've drunk? It's a result of my experiments. It didn't free kwami but it freed you," Marinette explained before laughing again. And this time Dick and Wally did join her.

#maribat #dickinette #birdflashbug #birdflash #fluff #and even more fluff #love confessions and oblivious idiots #I hope it's a good gift

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thr-333 · 4 years ago

Text

Mismatch- Part 6

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Sibling bonding at its finest, fighting and breaking rules

First< Previous> Next

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“Maman, Papa, we’re fine,” Marinette holds the phone between them.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come home?” Tom asks through speaker phone.

“No Papa, Nette worked hard for this trip,” Marion insists, they are sitting in the back of Bruce's car with him and Selina in the front.

“We both work-”

“Both want to stay, that's right,” Marion cuts her off, grinning at her glare, “Besides we have things to do here remember ?”

“Ok, but if you change your minds,” Sabine frets, they do have a concert coming up.

“We’ll be on the first flight back,” Marinette agrees, Aunt Selina leans back and she holds up the phone for her.

“Don’t worry Tom, I’ll keep them out of trouble,” She tells her brother.

“You’re the last person I trust to do that,” Tom laughs from the other end of the line.

“Rude,” She glares down at the phone.

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” Sabine speaks over her husbands laughter.

“Thank you Sabine, you're my favourite person in Paris,” She winks at the twins, whispering "Right now,"

"Hey!" Tom shouts from the phone.

“Of course,” Sabine chuckles over her husband,“We have to go back to the bakery now,”

“We’ll talk later,” Tom promises, "Have fun,"

“See ya,” Selina sits back upright.

“Bye Papa, Maman,” Marinette moves to hang up

“Also we met Aunt Selina's fiance! Bye!" Marion blurts, everyone in the car freezes.

“WHA-” Marion hangs up.

“Marion! That was…..” Their Aunt shouts before giggling, turning into full blown laughter,“... That was so…”

The twins start laughing as well, making her give up on whatever lecture she was going to launch into.

“Selina, your phones ringing,” Bruce says, as she calms down.

“Yeah, it’s probably going to do that for awhile,” Selina turns it to silent and ignores the call, then turns to Marion,“Don’t ever do that again,”

“Are you planning on getting remarried?” Marion asks cheekily.

“Quite the thing to admit in front of your fiance,” Marinette adds, glancing at Bruce to see he is also smiling slightly. Years with Kagami had trained her to notice those hints of emotion.

“Brats,” She huffs turning back around.

“We love you,” They chorus.

“Brats,” Selina shakes her head fondly just as they approach the gates.

Marinette stares in awe at the large estate. The architecture and gardens immediately had her pulling out her sketch book to jot down ideas. She gets pushed out of the car by Marion and keeps drawing as they walk towards the Manor doors.

"You're home is beautiful," Marinette compliments Bruce.

"Thank you, I think so too," Bruce says as the doors open.

“Welcome home, Master Bruce, Miss Selina,” Alfred stands in the doorway, “And you, Miss Dupain-Cheng and Mr Cheng-Dupain, welcome to Wayne Manor.”

“It’s good to see you again, please, just Marinette's fine,” Marinette puts away her sketchbook.

“Yeah, I'd rather you just call me Marion,” Marion beams at him, before whispering, “Did we even tell you our last names?… witchcraft,”

“Very well, please come this way,” Alfred guides them into the Manor, stopping outside a door, "Master Damian is waiting, I must be off to prepare dinner,"

"Thank you Alfred," Bruce tells the butler as he leaves.

They enter the living room type area. A boy who couldn't even be thirteen yet stands. 'He's so small' Marinette thinks to herself.

"Father," He glares at her and Marion.

“This is my son Damian,” Bruce introduces, “Damian met Marinette and Marion,”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Marinette smiles, holding her hand out.

“Tt” Damian looks away, getting a glare from Bruce before taking her hand, “... Likewise,”

Selinas phone buzzes again. Drawing attention away from the insincere tone.

“I should probably answer them, or they’ll never leave us alone,” Their Aunt sighs taking out her phone, “Bruce come with me, I’m sure they’ll want to meet you,”

“Is this going to be a pleasant conversation?” He asks.

“No its going to be very painful,” Marinette smiles, knowing they were about to have a very long conversation with her over excited Papa. He would probably have planned their wedding by the time they manage to hang up.

“Right,” Bruce says hesitantly, he turns to Damian with a pointed look, “Behave,”

"Tt," is Damian's response as he is left alone with them.

Marion sits down. Marinette follows sitting next to him on one of couches, surprised at how soft it is. Damian sits down on an armchair, picking up a book.

“So, Damian how old are you?" Marinette asks, after a full minute of silence

“12,” He doesn't look up from his book

“... We’re 18, twins if you couldn't tell,” Marion steps in gesturing between them.

“I could,” Damian answers shortly.

“Right... so what are your hobbies?” Marinette tries again.

“... painting,” Damian concedes under her expectant gaze.

“Oh, can we see?” She asks excitedly.

“No,” Damian snaps. She doesn't let that discourage her, she doesn't like showing strangers her designs. Apart from the millions of strangers who see her designs anyway.

“Alright, I get that," Marion shares the sentiment, "What about-Oh my god,”

“What?” Damian finally looks up from his book, scanning the room for the cause of his outburst.

“Kitty!” Marion practically leaps from the couch to get a better look at the cat sauntering across the room.

“Oh no,” Marinette sighs watching her brother melt over the cat.

“That’s Alfred,” Damian tells them eyeing the cat and Marion with mild amusement.

“After Alfred, Alfred your butler?” Marinette tries not to snicker at the name.

“Yes, pennyworth is his namesake,” Damian nods, glare daring Marinette to laugh.

“Can I pet him?!” Marion pleads, with baby-doll eyes that could put Manon to shame.

“You can try, Alfred is very selective about who pets him,” Damian grants, and Marion sits on the ground, inching closer.

“I wouldn’t worry, Mari has a way with cats,” Marinette smirks, thinking back to the time she had to fight an Akuma alone because he was being smothered by cats.

“Come here Alfred,” Marion rubs his hand on the ground, Alfred watching closely.

“Do you have any other pets?” Marinette asks, Damian puts down his book.

“I have Titus, a great dane,” Damian watches as Alfred gives in and pounces on Marion’s hand, “Batcow, self explanatory,”

“Bat-cow mutant?” Marion guesses letting Alfred sniff his hand.

“No,” Damian's irritation shows, “She has patch shaped like the Bat symbol,”

“Oh, that was my second guess,” Alfred lets Marion scratch behind his ear.

“Can we see them?” Marinette excited over meeting Batcow.

“They’ll be around here somewhere, roaming the manor grounds,” Damian responds, non committaly.

“Alfred the Cat, feels weird to call them both Alfred,” Marion muses, Damian looks surprised as the cat climbs into this lap.

“Have you any pets?” Damian asks his first question about them.

“No, we live in a bakery so it would be a health code violation,” Marinette answers sadly. She doubts a box of animal type Kwamis are regulation either but no one has to know about that.

“Al-at? no,” Marion talks to himself, or more likely the cat.

“That’s a shame,” Damian acknowledges monotonously, watching as Alfred the cat starts to purr as Marion scratches his chin.

“We did try to sneak strays in when we were little,” Marinette is unwilling to let the conversation drop.

“Ca-Fred, Cat-Fred!” Marion exclaims, apologising seconds later to the newly dubbed Cat-fred for startling him.

“Try?” Damian sneers.

“The first few times were a disaster, we didn’t get past the front door,” Marinette explains, “Maman and Papa would send them to the shelter straight away,”

“At least they didn’t put them back out on the street,” Damian muses.

“They would never,” Marion responds, in baby talk directed at Cat-fred.

"You don't have to use that ridiculous voice," Damian scolds.

"I know," Marion answers, in the same voice, Damian glowers.

“As we got older we started being able to actually get them inside before being found out,” Marinette distracts him from Marion's taunting.

“One of us would be the distraction and the other snuck in, with a sleeping cat or dog, that one we learnt the hard way,” Marion uses a normal voice, still showering Cat-fred with attention.

“I think that is how I got my reputation for being clumsy,” Marinette sighs, it was always left up to her to distract their parents by knocking something over while Marion snuck in.

“What can I say? Cats love me,” Marion proves his point as Alfred turns over, letting him see his belly.

“I can see that,” Damian seems amused as much as he is surprised.

“At first, they’d find them in a few hours, so we learnt by trial and error,” Marinette continues, relaxing into the couch. "We must have taken in at least a hundred strays,"

“I think the last one we had managed a few months before we go found out,” Marion guesses, they hadn't tried again since the received their miraculous.

For one because they couldn't afford their parents searching their room regularly and coming across the Kwamis. However being the heroes of Paris had also proven effective in getting people to adopt. Usually the first person they asked would immediately agree, if they were suited up.

“So how many more pets have you managed to smuggle in?” Marion stage whispers to Damian, the gap between them being too big to actually whisper, “In a place this big should be easy,”

“I’ve tried… Pennyworth has caught me each time,” Damian admits, looking down at the almost asleep Cat-fred.

“That man is a witch,” Marion declares with certainty.

“What?” Damian seems taken aback.

“He appears out of nowhere and knows too much,” Marion provides what Marinette is sure he considers evidence.

“Hn, that is true,” Damain starts to share his multiple accounts of such behaviour.

The three fall into easy conversation after that listening to and sharing stories.

“I must be going insane,” All their eyes snap to a man standing in the doorway “Demon spawns actually getting along with someone,”

“Todd,” Damian acknowledges coldly.

“Hi,” Marion waves with far more friendliness, “I’m Marion, this is Marinette, your names Todd was it?”

“Jason actually, I lived here and drop by every now and then, mainly when Alfred asks," He explains, sitting on another couch near Marion, "Heard about you had a run in with a villain today,”

“Did you?” Damian asks, the two having avoided it in their conversation so far.

“Yeah, got an earful from Aunt Selina,” Marion laughs nervously.

“Did you get hurt?” Jason looks over Marion, concern written all over his face.

“What? No I’m fine thanks,” Marion smiles, Marinette rolled her eyes she stretches her leg to press to his bruised side, "Ow! Nette!"

"No lying," She shrugs as Marion turns to her. Cat-fred runs at the sudden movement, making Marion pout.

"Rich coming from you," He mutters, turing back to see the look on Jason's face, "My side just a little bruised, doesn't hurt unless someone, oh i don't know, kicks me!"

"I didn't kick you, you drama queen," Marinette sticks her tongue out at him and he copies.

“Did Selina train you?” Damian reverts the conversation.

“A little when we were younger, we still to spar together,” Marinette pretends to go for a kick to his side again, expecting the easy block.

"One of the few instances we're allows to punch each other," Marion jokes, "Although I think I'll hold off for now, you're not above using my injury to your advantage,"

"I'm resourceful," Marinette corrects, "Also, now you're hurt when you're afraid to get you're ass beat?"

"Such crass language, young lady," Jason teases, Marinette pokes her tongue out again.

"I can spar you if Marion is unwilling," Damian offers, Marion grumbles something along the lines of 'I never said that'.

"Right now?" Marinette sizes him up, she could tell he had some training.

"If you want," Damian also starts to size her up.

"Hold up now, you can't do this," Jason steps in, Marinette starts to deflate, "In here, Alfred would stop you, lets go outside,"

She perks up, following Jason, Marion and Damian outside to a clear area of grass. She toes off her shoes and socks, knowing they were steel capped and would cause some serious damage. She also pulls off her scarf, not willing to give him any advantage. Damian keeps his shoes on, clicking his tongue. They start to circle each other, waiting for someone to make a move. Marinette feels the grass beneath her feet, she feels more like Ladybug in a way.

Damian breaks the standoff, lunging at her. Marinette side steps at the last second, reminding herself to tone it down. She tries to make use of the opening by getting behind him, but Damian instantly pivots to keep her in front of him. Marinette takes note he's a lot faster than anticipated and decides to test it. She makes the next move forward throwing a few punches to see how he reacts. Damian easily dodges each one, Marinette realises that she is unprepared to fight someone smaller than her. They did occasionally have to fight Akumatised children but that was with superpowers. She had never actually gone hand to hand with someone smaller.

Taking this into consideration she adjusts to a style she uses more when sparring Marion. They're both about the same size and he's fast so she can rarely use his weight against him like she usually would. Marinette stops trying to get behind Damian, instead planning to send him to the ground, knowing she had the size advantage. Damian seemingly notices this change and adjusts his defences.

'how well is he trained?' Marinette asks herself. Damian tries to goad her into attacking, throwing out punches. Marinette doesn't rise to the bait, dodging and blocking. Marinette dances around their sparring area, testing Damian's stamina while waiting for an opening. She sees her chance and is about to move into counter attack.

"Damian!" They both pause looking toward the manor to see Bruce and Selina.

"Marinette! what do you think you're doing?" Aunt Selina storms towards them.

"Uh... bonding?" She laughs nervously.

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mytwinklelights · 4 years ago

Text

A Reunion - Part 1 | Peter Parker x Stark! GN Reader

A/N: Remember over a month ago when I wrote this preview and didn’t post again? Oops sorry, I had to take a little break from tumblr because I was reading way too much fanfic. But now I’m back, just to post, still no reading for a while! Umm but yeah, here’s the first part! I can’t guarantee when part 2 will be posted but it’ll definitely be within the next 2 weeks! I hope you like it, please let message me with any feedback because I need validation to stay motivated lol

Summary: Y/N is an Avenger, the youngest Avenger. Then, Peter Parker comes along and they’re happy to finally have someone their age to hang out with, even if it was the boy they spent their senior year of high school crushing over.

Content Warnings: I don’t think there are any - let me know if I missed any though!

Genres: Friends to lovers, Stark! Reader, Frequent cameos from Avengers and them being cute, Slow burn, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 2019

----

“Alright gang.” Tony begins, standing in front of all the Avengers at the end of a large oval table in the conference room.

“I’m sure you’ve seen these ‘viral videos’ of this Spider-Boy kid swinging around the city and being a friendly neighbourhood vigilante. Well, Happy and I have managed to track him down and he’s agreed to join the team”

“Viral videos of superheroes?” Steve exclaims, looking at Tony whilst tilting his head and looking genuinely exhausted. “I’m still catching up on these keyboard cats and kids biting fingers”.

I giggle. Having Steve around was just the same as having an uncle you saw once the year who lived of the grid. He was extremely sweet, but utterly clueless to anything other than his job. But I mean, that job does include fighting evil aliens.

“Anyway…” Tony continues as the other Avengers chuckles die down after Steve’s outcry “he arrived not too long ago. Happy is next door giving him all the T&Qs and they should be done now. Let me just check and I’ll introduce you all.” Tony then leaves the room, and the other Avengers start to talk among themselves.

I pull out my phone and type ‘NYC spider boy’ into YouTube clicking on the second search result with 20 million views. I have seen this video before as my friend Michael sent it to me around a week ago.

“Do you think there are many other super kids wandering around the city?” Sam asks, whilst looking at the video of my shoulder. Currently the hero is stopping a city bus from off-roading into some confused tourists by building up a wall with his web.

“I doubt it, I mean I guess he’s the only one going viral” I answer, moving the angle of my phone so the others who have gathered around me can see “but it would be cool to be able to meet some people my age who do what I do, no offence guys”

They all laugh. Being the youngest Avenger and hanging out with 30+ year olds all the time can be kind of isolating, but it’s like having a super close family. A family who also happen to be in life and death situations regularly together. But that’s a great bonding experience I would say.

“Guys, this is Peter, the Spider-Boy” Tony draws our attention away from my phone to the door where he has just entered.

“Spider-Man” Peter mutters as a lame attempt to correct him.

“Peter?” I question and the boy stood in front of me was not who I expected. I didn’t expect the masked vigilante swinging through New York to be someone that I knew.

“Y/N?” He responds, looking even more confused than I am “What are you doing here?”

“So Tony Stark is your dad?” Peter asks.

After seeing a guy from your school who you shared a chemistry class with last year, walking into a super-secret meeting for superheroes where he will be now joining your team. It is understandable that Peter and I were now talking this out to figure out how this state could be so small.

“Yep” I answer. We were sat next to each other on bar stools at the kitchen island. Wanda made some of her famous fruit smoothies for us and we were both stirring them around with our straws whilst conversing alone in the main living space.

“But your last name isn’t Stark, or Potts?” He continues, genuinely really confused about this whole situation.

“Yeah, well you can’t have the daughter of a billionaire and superhero couple walking around New York City alone, going to a normal school, having normal hobbies. It’s like asking for me to be taken hostage. So, I don’t have either of their last names and the general public doesn’t know I exist. It’s for my safety” I continue, reciting this memorised answer I’ve had to say to multiple people once they find out my existence.

Peter nodded as if he was understanding everything, he probably was, but I guess this wasn’t the conversation he planned to have today.

“And you’re the great Spider-Man” I continued, wanting the change the subject from me to him. “How did that happen? Wait… were you Spider-Man when you sat behind me in Chem last year?”

He began to explain to me the story, it happened to him on our school trip to OSCORP we took last year for our Chem class that happened just before the end of the semester. Something about a radioactive spider. It was strange, kind of the weirdest superhero transformation story I’ve heard. And I’ve heard quite a few.

My story was nowhere near as interesting. I guess having superhero parents who were always around weird alien technology and contaminated substances led to some weird epigenetic alterations of their reproductive cells and then when they had me, I could turn invisible.

They didn’t know at first, I was seemingly a normal baby. Then at my 2nd birthday party when they surprised me with a freaky clown, I was so scared that my body just decided to turn invisible. They weren’t expecting it, the clown definitely wasn’t expecting it and they had to cover up with a very convincing lie.

From then, whenever I was embarrassed, scared or essentially in a situation where I wanted to disappear. I did. Literally. It wasn’t entirely effective though as even though my body tuned invisible, the clothes I was wearing didn’t. I spent the majority of my preteen years of being a walking hoodie and jeans with no head or hands protruding from the gaps. For my 13th birthday Bruce and I got to work on a suit which responds to the activity of my skin cells, when I was invisible, my suit was invisible. It made it a lot more effective for me to actually be invisible when I turned but it also meant my dad let me start training to become an Avenger.

Training was fun, I worked with Nat a lot in our gym in order to become an efficient fighter. ‘Just because people couldn’t see me, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t know how to serve a mean right hook’ she always said. I also spent a lot of time with Wanda, trying to manage my powers. Now I am able to actually turn invisible and visible again on demand. And it only takes extreme embarrassment now to turn me invisible against my will, which is great because mum and dad finally let me, after my years of begging, attend Midtown High and stop being home school. This is where I met Peter last year and now I’m at Columbia studying genetics and engineering. A double major, I know but when you’re around the top geniuses in the world everyday, there is no such thing as too much learning.

“So, I guess we’re the only Midtown Alumni to have these crazy powers huh?” Peter finishes. After a long ramble about his becoming a superhero story. I guess he wanted to ease the tension after I couldn’t really think of what to say after “that’s super cool”. It wasn’t like I wasn’t interested, I really was, but when I wanted to have another person my age to hang out with, I didn’t expect it to be the boy I spent my senior year of high school obsessing over. I had turned shy, like really shy, like my normal levels of shy times 50. I couldn’t think of what to say.

“Sorry, if that story was too long and boring, I’ve only gotten to tell it to one person before, my best friend Ned so I was kind of excited to be able to tell it again.”

“No, it wasn’t boring, it was genuinely really cool!” I say a little too loudly and enthusiastically. I cringe at my tone of voice and speak normally again as I continue “It’s just I didn’t really expect the new Avengers recruit to be you, you know, like someone I know. It’s just kind of weird, but nice? I don’t know, now I’m rambling”

Peter chuckles.

“Umm, so are you going to be staying with us whilst you train or are you going back to Queens?” I ask, hoping this new question will miraculously erase Peter’s memory of what I last said.

“A bit of both, my Aunt is back in queens and I don’t want to leave her completely alone, but this upstate facility is a little too far for an everyday commute. I’m here just for today but once I start training on Monday, I think I might stay for the whole week.”

“Well, I can give you the tour! Since you’ll be staying with us soon, I guess you’ll want to know where everything is!” I say whilst jumping of my bar stool and putting my half full smoothie cup in the fridge. I noticed peter has just finished his, so I grab the glass and put it in the dishwasher for him. He thanks me as I do so.

“So this is the kitchen, where we make our food, different from the kitchen where the chefs make our food for occasions, charity events blah blah blah. And also, this seating area here is kind of the main seating area where we’ll sit throughout the day. Lots of sofas because there are lots of us and this is Bucky’s armchair. Don’t ever sit in Bucky’s armchair.” I say, stopping behind the chair and resting my hand on the headrest.

“Bucky, scary guy with the metal arm right?” Peter questions whilst following me at a slight distance around the room as I show him around. I nod. “Yeah, don’t worry, I won’t be sitting in his chair” he laughs.

I continue to show him the rest of the complex, the gym, the labs and finish up on the floor with all our rooms.

“I’m not sure which one of these rooms will be yours because we have a couple spare ones, but they all have the same layout. Look I’ll show you mine” I walk into my room, then hold the door open for Peter so he can follow me in.

“Uh, so this is my room. Obviously, yours won’t be decorated like mine but It’ll be the same size and have an en-suite attached with a full shower and tub and stuff. You know, the basics” I say, whilst sitting on the edge of my bed.

“I like your room, it’s cosy” he adds whilst looking around and then heading for the bookshelf as soon as he spots it.

“Ah thanks, I mean it’s cool, bigger than when we were in the tower in the city so I can’t complain” I say whilst also looking around. What is it about someone else being in your room that makes you see it with fresh eyes and make you super self-conscious that there is going to be a rogue piece of underwear on the floor? Even though I know I tidied my room this morning.

“Holy crap, Vision you scared the life out of me” I say on an exhale whilst holding my hand to my chest after the large gasp I just made as he enters the room, through the wall.

“Sorry, but your door is open” He continues, “Mr. Stark has told me that your car is here to take you back home Mr. Parker. If you would just follow me, I can lead you there” Vision continues, as if him just floating through my bedroom wall and speaking to the boy from my chemistry class now turned superhero was a normal thing to happen on a Thursday evening.

“Oh… thanks Vision” Peter says with some hesitancy, you can see that this is a weird circumstance for him too. “Well, I’ll see you on Monday then” he says smiling at me and walking towards the door. Which vision doesn’t use to exit.

“Yeah, see you then” I smile as he closes the door and I’m left in my room listening to him shuffling down the corridor.

Part 2

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagines #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avenger imagines #stark! reader #stark!reader

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pugh-bug · 4 years ago

Text

Scott Lang x reader

Chapter 4 of this slow burn (which is fitting because I post the chapters slowly) story

Finally! The next chapter will follow on from this because it’s going to end up too long if I don’t post this chapter now. I hope you enjoy it! :)

You’d been stressed the last week and everyone could tell. A twenty thousand word uni essay you thought was in for the end of term turned out to have been due two weeks earlier. It only took one text from a fellow class member, who you never really spoke to or considered, asking you what your grade was to send you into a frantic meltdown. Luckily the Avengers were busy so you had Stark Tower to yourself for a few hours and took full advantage. By crying. A lot. Begging your professor to give you more time to hand it in (because you were sick cough cough) and planning the stupid thing to get it over with. Did you get it done eventually? Yes. Would a drunken chicken be impressed by your words? Doubtful.

Normally you gave Bruce your essays to look over but you couldn’t bring yourself to show him your so called ‘work’ so into the submissions it went. It was too embarrassing but your motivation levels had plummeted since meeting the Avengers and calling them your friends - you couldn’t care too much. In the scheme of things essays just didn’t seem important anymore.

On Sunday you submitted it and sat in silence for a moment. Everyone had gotten used to giving you space, for a change, so you were comfortable with quiet. However you were not going to quietly tell them you’d finally finished. No.

‘FINALLY!’ You yelled, purposefully leaning towards your door for maximum effect. Let them come to you, you thought. As the door opened and your friends pretty faces appeared you felt nothing but relief. It was silly to feel ‘free’ because it was just an essay but fucking hell did you despise avoiding everyone to write it for so long.

Scott came to you first with Tony, Thor and Vision behind. You tried not to revel in him being closest to you too much. He looked especially cute that afternoon, you could tell he’d had a lie in because of his slight bed hair, and you beamed at him. ‘So it’s finished?’ Making space for him so he could sit on your desk beside you, you nodded. ‘Yes!’

While Thor gave you a long speech about how pointless Earth school was in his charming way, Tony congratulated you like you’d had a baby.

‘Good. Knew that was hard for you.’

Scott was glued to your desk and you tried to make eye contact with everyone else in the room but him. Him and his pretty distracting face.

‘I have a brilliant idea!’ Tony then announced, commanding the room in his diva like way. Scott raised his eyebrows at you in anticipation before you all turned to look at the billionaire. ‘I think we’ve all disappointed ourselves this week. Do you know why? Work. We’ve been working too hard.’ Scott laughed and smiled down at you, which you returned. Poor Vision just stood in the doorframe glazed with visible confusion. It was like being in a Ted talk audience.

‘Y/N’s essay,’ Tony gestured to you. ‘My impeccable new suit. I’m sure Vision has been doing.. somethi- the point is, we need to party. My humble suggestion, which you’re free to disapprove of if you’re boring, is that we all get-‘

‘Smashed!’

The exclaim just left you. You had been fucking itching to be drunk all week and celebrate - even if it was a small achievement in the grand scheme of things. You wanted to do shots. Lie on the floor. Dance. Dance and finally eat! Somehow you hadn’t eaten anything all day and it was 4pm. Your stomach was growling at you.

Scott rubbed your shoulder playfully and smirked ‘I like that plan.’

‘Excuse me. My plan.’

You and Scott chose to ignore the diva in the room which of course Vision and his big computer brain had to comment on. ‘Erm...’ he hesitated as he walked towards the two of you in classic Vision fashion. ‘You two are-‘

‘About to find all the liquor!’ Before he could finish whatever awkward question he could ask you jumped out of your seat taking Scott with you. The cabinets where most of the alcohol got stored were all in the smaller of Tony’s kitchens. Scott’s hand in yours felt familiar and unfamiliar at the same time as you giddily dragged him down the hall. You could not stop smiling and he could sense your mood change.

‘Someone’s happy today.’

Of course you somehow took that as a hint to let his hand go, which you did but sadly. Your hand felt a bit lost as you walked and you couldn’t remember if you normally swung your arms or kept them still like Vision.

‘I’m warning you now,’ you opened the cupboards with no specific alcohol in mind ‘I plan on getting very drunk tonight.’ Fuck. There wasn’t any kopperberg left. Oh well you’d settle for gasoline- it was one of those days.

‘You don’t have to tell me,’ Scott chuckled at you. ‘When I was your age I got black out drunk almost daily.’ Once you were carrying a dangerous amount of bottles and cans you looked up at the man and he looked a bit smug. ‘Am I right in thinking you’re proud of yourself?’ He didn’t have to reply, you could tell he was.

The two of you laid out the cans and wine, vodka, mixer and beer bottles out on the counter carefully. It looked like a beautiful recipe for disaster but it wasn’t anything you hadn’t all done only weeks before. The amusing sounds of Tony bossing everyone around to get off their asses and party met your ears. Your main goal was to start drinking as soon as possible. Red wine, you found in your ‘scientific studies’, got you the drunkest the quickest so it was the obvious choice.

As you swug it, Scott hesitated about starting his beer. He watched you but for once you didn’t have the energy to wonder what he was thinking. ‘Oh no,’ you laughed and carried on drinking. ‘I’m gonna have to peel you off this floor later aren’t I?’ His words were worrying but there was a gleam in his eyes and an energy radiating off the two of you that didn’t care what happened.

You laughed and told him that yes he definitely would have to. He seemed to think it was his mission and his alone to look after you. How sweet and incorrect. ‘Scott,’ saying his name never got old ‘Don’t you dare stay sober for me. I’ve never seen you drunk.’ Somehow you hadn’t. Unless you had and couldn’t remember which was also likely. The idea of the two of you dancing together and Scott twirling you under his arm made your cheeks warm and your chest flutter.

The urge to be overly sarcastic was building, why you got like this around attractive people when you were bored you didn’t know. It wasn’t your best trait - funny sometimes but not exactly mature of you. It was almost addictive and spending time with Tony’s sarcy ass did nothing to help you think before you spoke.

You leant on the counter drinking but your mind was trying to decide which playlist you were going to force everyone to dance to. ‘Plughole.’ Scott stated.

‘Wow...’

‘It’s too quiet in here. Did I miss anything?’ Tony strutted in with his classic arrogance. You gestured to yourself and repeated Scott’s remark while chugging more wine. If you didn’t feel tipsy soon you’d start taking shots.

‘Shots!’ Clint yelled, entering the kitchen behind Thor, Peter, Nat, Bruce and Vision. Maybe the archer could mind read after all? He was holding an oven tray filled with shot glasses. Just- a beautiful sight. Scott looked apprehensive on your behalf but that didn’t matter. If he didn’t want you to get plastered he didn’t have to stay with you all night. Nat would.

‘Finally, yes please yes.’

It was pure chaos before long, which was exactly what you craved after such a boring week. ‘I want it all’ by the Arctic Monkeys was playing, despite Thor’s drunken Asgardian chant suggestions, and you had somehow taken 5 shots already. Scott was on 4, Vision going strong with 0 (of course), Thor had beaten you with 7 and yet Tony was winning with 8. You lost count quickly after that.

There were so many people in one room you felt like leaving would be impossible. You’d have to crowd surf to get to the shitting toilet. ‘Scott!’ He’d stayed near you until Steve arrived, looking sophisticated in a suit. That was when drunk you decided Scott could only leave you for Steve. One exception.

‘Scott!’

He heard you the second time, just barely over the music Sam had turned up. You felt needy and raw. Almost all of your ‘holding back reserves’ had been chained up by copious amounts of vodka. ‘Are you okay?’ Slurring his words slightly, Scott put his hand on your shoulder looking genuinely concerned. Your heart swelled. ‘Aw fuck.’ He didn’t respond at your accidental ‘sentence’ that had meant to stay in your brain.

‘I need to throw up.’

You didn’t even know if you felt sick but you felt something. It was just words and a half arsed explanation for leaving the lively room. The two of you were stood in the centre of the dance circle so leaving was a struggle. Avoiding Tony’s flaying arms and Sam’s impressive dancing to find the empty corridor felt like an obstacle course.

As soon as you and Scott reached the bathroom your stomach grumbled. ‘Oh.’ You held it and looked up at Scott’s confused face with realisation. ‘I think I’m just h-hungry! And you burst out laughing in his drunken haze Scott joined in.

‘Pretty sure there’s cake over here.’ He laughed, partially at your excitement but also at his own. Neither one of you ate well without encouragement and all you wanted was to devour sugar or his face if you got any drunker.

Taglist: @supraveng

#marvel #marvel fandom #scott lang x reader #slow burn #scott lang fluff #scott lang

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ellana-ravenwood · 5 years ago

Text

In a world where Bruce Wayne raised Damian since birth - Ficlets part 2/3

And here we are. So. Yeah. I got extremely carried away again so I guess I’m cutting this “last part” in two ^^'. The last part (so the third one) is therefor already written and will be posted soon after a few other stories I got to update ! Thanks for reading, hope you’ll like this and boom :

PART 1

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

TW : mentions of blood in the “The day he learned what death meant” part ! Also, loss of a close family member... + drowning in “The Pond incident”.

__________________________________________________

******

"No more Robins.”

Bruce couldn’t bring himself to explain to Damian what happened to Jason.

Of course, he knew that one day, he would have to. And that the sooner the better. Especially since the boy was asking more and more when his brother would come back.

Bruce was pretty sure his boy thought that Jason went to form his own “Teen Titans”, like Dick did years ago.

Damian kept asking to video conference Jason, when he’d call, why didn't he kiss him goodbye, or when he’d come back to have dinner with them…Yes. Yes the boy most likely thought his older brother did what his oldest brother did.

Went away for a little while, definitely not forever.

Bruce wondered how long he would be able to wisthand his son’s questions.

Every time the little one would ask « When is Zayson calling/coming back ? », Bruce felt his heart shrivel more and more, and flashes of Jason’s body in his arms kept coming back and-

He couldn’t. Bruce couldn’t. How the hell could he say anything ?

How could he explain to his baby son that his beloved brother would never come home again ? Would never call ?And that everything was his own father’s fault…He couldn’t break his son’s heart like that. He couldn’t bear to..

But he would have to. One day or another.

“The sooner the better”, Dick said. And Bruce knew he was right. But it was too hard.

And then suddenly, as if summoned by his thought, there he was.

Little Damian.

Except this was clearly not the right time to tell him what truly happened to Jason, as the boy seemed mildly annoyed and was…Wearing his coat and shoes ? Where was he going ? And who was that other kid with him ?

The newcomer seemed to be around twelve, and was smiling widely, clearly excited to be here. Before he could speak though :

“Daddy, he knows you’re Batman.”

Damian said, very matter of factly, as if it wasn’t really a surprise. And maybe to a six years old growing up knowing his dad was Batman, it wasn’t ?

Although in this case, it was more the fact that Damian’s mind was monopolized by where Jason went, than him not being surprised someone guessed who Batman was. In other circumstances, and if he was older than barely six, maybe he would’ve been very impressed...Later on in his life, Tim would genuinely impress him many times with his intellect.

Damian never told anyone, because since he was very young, Bruce, Alfred, Dick and Jason told him not to. Because it was a secret. And it became natural for him, to not talk about this to anyone. He was basically conditioned to never even mention the Dark Knight.

“Batman” was part of the boy’s life since birth, to him, he was nothing special except for the fact it was his beloved dad. He was always more of a “Robin” fan anyway, as he regarded both his brothers in awe...

Which made him think, where was Jason ?!

The thought of him brought Damian back to his initial idea, which was to go to Jason’s school (wherever that was) and look for him. As he thought about it, he realized there was a big flaw in his plan for sure. Where was his brother’s school ? And also, it was Winter’s vacation ? Why would he be there ?

Then...Where was he ?

Now, Damian was even more annoyed at this dude who knocked on their door. Not only did he wrecked his plans to go to Jason’s school (before he could truly think about it), but now he was monopolizing his dad’s attention so Damian, who was taught basic politeness by Alfred, couldn’t even cut him off to ask where Jason was !

This had slowly become Damian’s obsession, to know where his brother was. He’s never been so focus on only one thing in his entire short life.

“...and that’s how I found out you were most definitely him, The Batman !”

Damian didn’t really listen to what “Tim” said. He didn’t care that much how he found out that his dad was Batman, all he wanted was...Oh, but wait a minute.

Tim discovered who Batman really was.

All on his own. While everyone in Gotham seemed oblivious to that fact. This must mean...

“Hey ! You must know where Jason went ?”

Damian was maybe young, but he was smarter than a lot of adults would give children credits for. He often easily put two and two together anyway (thanks to the many puzzles his father turned into games and made him solve, along with his brothers), and if that Tim could find out who Batman really was when everyone else was in the dark (even Superman, and he met both Batman AND Bruce Wayne rather often), he could probably find Jace !

Tim turned to Damian, and looked at him with a sorry look in his eyes and...Why ? But the boy never had time to ask that question as his father said :

“Damian, go to your room please. Timothy and I have to talk.”

“But I want to-”

“No buts. I’ll come by your room when I’m done. Please, do as I say, Damian.”

There was something in his father’s tone, that made Damian sort-of forget about asking where Jason was. Something grave, as if the man he admired the most on this Earth would suddenly shatter.

There was something in his father’s tone that made him not want to argue, and to just listen. Something that just sounded quiet and heavy. And so without trying to argue further, Damian went to his room, and waited.

Waited for what seemed hours, for his father to come tell him whatever he wanted to tell him.

But Bruce never came to explain anything. Or to tell what happened between him and Tim. He couldn’t. He just didn’t have the strength yet. Especially not after he told Tim off, and told him to forget about Batman and go on on his own ways.

Not after he told Tim that there was : “no more Robins”.

************

The Pond Incident.

It didn’t seem his dad wanted to explain to him much about what happened with Tim, or talk about Jason at all.

In fact, since yesterday and Tim’s impromptu arrival, Damian hadn’t seen his father at all. Nor did he see Dick (later, he’d learn than both men were together, working a case and trying to focus on it to take their pain away...Later, the boy would learn his father just couldn’t face him just yet).

When Damian asked “Fafred” (Alfred), the butler told him they were both busy. The boy didn’t even bother, this time, to ask where Jason was. He knew he’d get no satisfying answers. So he decided, just like the day before before he got interrupted by Tim and then spend the entire day waiting for his dad in his room, well he decided to take things in his own hands.

Now, there was only one solution to this “Where is Jason ?” problem.

Well, this was the last solution.

The most logical and obvious one, to Damian’s little six years old eyes.

Nobody seemed to want to tell him where Jason went, even after two full weeks now ! And Damian looked EVERYWHERE for his brother.

Now, Jason has always been the best at “hide and seek”.

It was easy to find Dick, he always used his acrobat background to find the least likely places to hid in...Which made it the most obvious of places to look in, all you had to do, is look in places normal people couldn’t access, and you’d find Dick ! But Jason...Jason was a true master of the art. He always managed to find the best hidden places !

But he never stayed hidden for that long ! The most he went on was about two hours, and then he got tired of waiting and went to eat some cookies in the kitchen, which is where Damian finally found him !

So if Jason wasn’t in school, if he didn’t have his own Titans, if he wasn’t playing hide and seek...Then there was only one place left where he could be !

The infamous and scary “Pond”.

Both Jason and Dick warned Damian multiple time to not go near it, telling him a monster lived in it so he would keep away.

Of course, the monster story was a lie. A white one. So they’d keep their baby brother safe. Because that pond was rather treacherous. Even if you were a good swimmer, falling in it, with all the water weed at the bottom, could become fatal rather quickly.

And so the “Pond Monster” was born. Damian was truly terrified of it, which sometimes made his brothers feel guilty that they invented such a terrifying cryptid. But at the same time, anything to keep him out of danger.

But today, as the boy thought this was the last place his brother could be, and that maybe the Pond Monster had him, Damian didn’t feel fear.

On the contrary, he felt rather resolved. And here he was, six years old Damian, slipping away discreetly in the garden, as everyone in the house was too busy and weighted down by their pain to notice...

He approached the water slowly, carefully. He wasn’t about to get snatch easily like that by the monster. Picking a stick from the floor, Damian walked to the pond with wary steps, ready to fight.

Only the thought that maybe Jason was there kept him going.

Hey, maybe that’s why nobody was really telling him where Jason was ? Because the Pond Monster was holding him prisoner and they were all afraid it’d take Damian too ?

“M’not ‘fraid !”

Damian yelled at the pond, letting the monster know he was, indeed, not afraid. Or maybe, trying to convince himself.

And here he was, near the murky water. He looked at it, and waited for a few minutes. Waited for the monster. But it never came, so he said :

“If you have my brother, you have to let him go now.”

Silence.

“Please ?”

Silence. Damian hits the water with his stick.

“We can trade, you take me and you let Zayson go ?”

Damian knew that Jason would never let the monster take him, and intended to trick it so he would let Jason free enough so they could both escape !

But the pond desperately stayed silent. And the boy now found himself wishing that monster was real. He approached the water even more, and bend above it.

He couldn’t see anything, and so he walked closer still, and then...

There was a reason, both Dick and Jason made sure that their little brother would never come near that pond. In fact, Bruce planned to take it out years ago but never quite got to it...

The sides were directly quite deep, for a pond. Deep enough for a small six years old boy to...

“Woaaaah !”

Damian slipped, and fell right in the water.

First, before he could even struggle to stay above the water, he felt the cold of it. New Jersey, that time of the year, was cold and unforgiving...

And as Damian’s adrenaline kicked in, making him unaware of the cold, he started to struggle. But the long grass filling the pond were already tangling around him, dragging him down and down, as if they had a mind of their own.

Damian knew how to swim, he learned fast, as his father was truly terrified anything would happen to his kids...But the panic made the boy get tangled even more in those thick grass, and his little six years old body couldn’t win.

He couldn’t win.

His head was beneath the water now, and everything was dark and cold. He cold feel the bottom of the pond, and he could see he wasn’t that much shorter than the depth of it...But the thick water grass wouldn’t let go of him, and he couldn’t reach the surface that was oh so close. It felt that the more he struggled, the more he got tangled.

And it was cold. So cold.

“Damian...”

Jason ? Was that Jason ? Damian could recognize his brother’s voice anywhere.

“Damian what are you doing here ?”

It was cold, and he couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Damian, you’re not supposed to be here. You have to go Damian, you have to go, you hear me ?”

The boy wasn’t quite sure anymore, but he thought he saw the silhouette of a man next to him, helping him out of the water and...Jason ! This was really Jason’s voice ! Jason was saving him !

Probably because of the water, Damian felt like there were two people with him. One that was trying to lift him up above water, and a sort of brighter one, who was slowly fading now...Doesn’t matter.

Jason was saving him.

He knew it, Damian knew Jason would never leave him alone.

Everything was cold and dark, but he felt warm arms get a hold of him, drag him out of the water.

“Good. Good. Go Damian, go. And I don’t want to see you up until you’re very, very, very old...”

The boy did not understand those last few words. Wasn’t even sure he heard them. All of a sudden, he was out of the water, coughing and trembling. And someone was wrapping a warm hoodie around him, trying to get him warm.

“You have to be careful buddy, you have to be careful !”

This wasn’t Jason’s voice.

The water slowly clearing out of his vision, Damian looked at whoever saved him and...

It was the one from yesterday.

Tim.

He was wearing a t-shirt, and was soaked, his hair sticking on his forehead. And he was desperately trying to keep the little boy warm, enveloping him carefully in his own hoodie and coat, that he must’ve taken off before jumping in the pond to rescue Damian. Tim’s own lips were blue, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Are you ok ? Are you ok ? We have to get back you back to the manor, to where it’s warm ok ? I’m going to carry you ok ? Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you I just want to-”

“What happened here ?!”

Damian was still not really sure what was happening, still a bit numbed from the cold water and the fear and...Was it really Jason he heard ?

His little six years old mind couldn’t understand everything, right now. Except that the one who asked what was happening was his dad.

And indeed, as Damian turned to the voice...

“Oh my God what happened ?!”

“I’m sorry sir, I know you told me you didn’t want any help or another Robin or anything but I was um...In your forrest by accident- yes that’s it, by accident-, when I saw your son going straight to that pond and then he fell and-”

A large hand on his shoulder is what stopped Tim’s anxious rant. And Bruce’s kind and understanding eyes what made him feel safe.

“It’s alright boy, come on in tell me all about it around a cup of hot cocoa.”

It didn’t take a genius to gather that Tim had just saved Damian. Taking his own coat off, Bruce put it around Tim’s shoulders, and picked up his youngest son his arms.

“You’re okay to walk ?”

“Yes sir, yes I am.”

“Tough little one.”

Bruce smiled at Tim, trying to reassure him. It was clear the boy had adrenaline rushing through his veins and his heart was still beating fast, unable to quite catch whatever happened there...

Bruce knew. Bruce knew what happened. And it chilled him to the bones.

He couldn’t send Tim away again, not after what the boy just did.

************

Some fresh warm clothes and a cup of hot cocoa later...

What Damian said that day, and what Tim told Bruce, froze the Batman’s blood in his veins.

What if Tim hadn’t been so stubborn, not wanting to give up helping Batman, and Damian would’ve...he would’ve...

It was time now.

Not knowing where his brother went almost cost him his life, that’s how the little one desperately wanted to find Jason back.

It was time now.

Bruce had to tell him. He had to...

The day he understood what “Death” meant.

"Damian, buddy, I have to...I have to show you something.”

Comfortably wrapped in a blanket, little Burrito Damian turned to his father and...was shocked by how serious, tired, sad and old he looked.

Sure, his dad haven’t been the same much lately. Since Jason left. But he also was a little quieter when he let Dick go join the Titans, so Damian didn’t worry too much !

Except right now, it’s as if he truly didn’t recognized his dad. Like it was another man in front of him, who was broken.

When Bruce would look at Damian, at any of his children really, there was always a spark in his eyes. A spark, that was nowhere to be seen right now.

Which worried the little boy.

Bruce turned to Tim, and said :

“Chum, would you mind waiting for us here ? I have to...To...”

“It’s ok Mr. Wayne, I know. I will go home and-”

“Please no. Wait here, there is...There is probably some old clothes that belonged to Dick or...Or Jason, somewhere in the house. Dry clothes. Alfred will take care of things. Finish your cocoa, I will be back and we can...We can talk about Robin. If you’d like.”

Tim’s eyes brightened and opened wide, he excitedly shook his head and said :

“I’d love that sir !”

The pure joy radiating from the boy made Bruce’s heart feel a little warmer, and gave him the last push of bravery he needed to take his youngest son...There.

To take Damian to Jason’s grave.

After asking Alfred to take care of Tim, Bruce took Damian outside again, in the back garden. So deep in the estate, Damian actually realized he never went there.

Holding his father’s hand, the boy stayed silent as he walked along side his dad, walked...Somewhere.

Damian had a bad feeling about this, he didn’t like how wet his father’s eyes were, and how serious he looked. He asked :

“Where are we going daddy ?”

“I have things to explain to you.”

“What things ?”

“Where...Where Jason went.”

“It’s ok, it’s ok, we can wait tomorrow ?”

All of a sudden, Damian didn’t want to know where Jason was. A scary and uneasy feeling he couldn’t quite pinpoint as he never felt it before was creeping his way in his heart, and he was suddenly taken over by a fear of what was waiting for them beyond the woods at the back of Wayne’s garden.

Damian didn’t even know their backyard was so big. He always assumed the forrest was the end of it, but no. No. The forrest was part of it. And beyond the woods laid...

Two weirdly carved stones ?

Damian didn’t like this place. He didn’t like it at all.

“Where is Zayson ?”

He asked, worried, wishing very hard his older brother would pop out from behind one of the stone and everything was just a prank.

“He’s...He’s there.”

Bruce pointed at one of the stone, and Damian didn’t understand.

“Where ?”

“Under.”

“Under ? Why ?”

Bruce realized this was a mistake. How the hell will he explain what happened ? Why didn’t he do it sooner ? Why ? Why why why ? He wished Dick and Alfred would be here. But deep down, Bruce knew this was something he had to do on his own.

That he owned that much to his son.

“Why is he under there, daddy ?”

“He’s..He’s sleeping.”

No. No this was wrong. Don’t give the boy false hope. Tell him right away why his brother is buried three feet under...

“Well, when will he wake up then ? Is it weally safe for him to sleep under the gwound ?”

“He won’t wake up Damian. He...He’s...”

Say it Bruce. Say it. You have to. Don’t beat around the bushes. Tell him. Don’t let him think there’s a chance for him to ever see his beloved brother again.

Say it. Say it. Say it.

Bruce had to gather all his will, courage and strength to finally say it :

“He’s dead, son. Jason is dead.”

It took a little bit for Damian to start to understand what this meant.

A little bit for the boy to have sudden flashbacks of Simba’s dad, in “The Lion King”, whom Dick said was “sleeping”. Of why Nemo’s mom wasn’t around after that scary fish attacked. Or why Little Feet had to cross the Land Before Time all alone, without his mama. Why Bing Bong, in “Inside Out”, disappeared. What happened to the Iron Giant...

For him to remember Harry Potter’s parents, who were “killed” by Voldemort. For the first time, he slowly understood what it truly meant. Harry Potter never saw his parents, except when they were...ghosts ? But they were gone.

Harry Potter’s parents were gone. He couldn’t see them. Ever. They were in a place no one alive could go.

And all of a sudden, he realizes that both his brother’s real parents were “gone”. Somewhere no one could follow them. Somewhere they would never see them again. Somewhere that would sometimes make Dick and Jason sad, because they couldn’t see them ever again.

For the boy to realize his dad’s parents too, left and were...Dead.

Which is why he never met his grandparents. And why his dad was Batman. And why-

“No.”

Damian heard himself say. His little six years old brain refusing to accept that his brother was like Simba’s dad, like Bing Bong, or like...like...

“Damian, yo-”

“No !”

Damian walked to where his dad said Jason was buried, and although he couldn’t quite read yet, he recognized the name “Jason” being written on the stone. His brother taught him how to write it, because the boy drew a lot of things for him and he wanted to address it to him properly...

“Lies ! LIES !!”

Damian screamed, trying to scratch away the name carved deep in the stone.

“Zayson is not dead, he’s not dead ! He would never leave me ! He said so !”

“Damian-”

“Lies daddy, lies ! You’re lying, it’s not nice to lie !!”

Damian kept screaming, tears slowly welling up in his eyes. His little finger tips where starting to get bloody, as he tried to erase his brother’s name off of this damn “grave”...

“Damian, son, ca-”

“ZAYSON IS NOT UNDER THERE ! HE’S NOT ! HE’S NOT ! HE’S NOT !! He’ll come back Daddy, he will ! We have to take the stone away daddy, or he’ll think we forgot him !”

Blood was tinting the cold marble of the tomb now. And Bruce quickly grabbed a hold of his boy but...

Kids were so squirmy.

That’s one of the first lesson Bruce ever learned, when Damian was still a baby and it was such a struggle to put his clothes on, or to change a diaper, as he would squirm all around joyfully.

Except now, far were the times when Dick and/or Jason would mock him because Damian caught a tuff of his hair and wouldn’t let go, far were the funny moments and laughters as baby Damian literally peed on him more than once, making his older sons laugh too much...

Now, Damian was squirming away from his grasp, crying, screaming...

Heart broken.

“No daddy, no !!”

There was a time too, when Damian would say that. Whenever Bruce would scold Dick, for example. Damian would hug his brother tightly, and, barely speaking a few words, would yell at Bruce : “No dadda, no !”, scolding him in turn because no one was allowed to “yell” at his big brother.

But now, now Damian wasn’t hugging Dick. Wasn’t clinging cutely to his brother. Instead, he had latched his arms and legs around Jason’s grave as best he could, and was now screaming :

“We can’t leave him here daddy, we can’t leave him alone ! He’s so far fwom us daddy, he doesn’t like it when he’s alone ! You know it, you know it. Zayson hates to be alone, pwease daddy pwease ! We have to bwing him back with us ! He’s ok, he’s ok he’s waiting for us to take him home ! Pwease daddy ! Pwease !”

Tears were running down the boy’s face now. Down Bruce’s face, too, as he tried to unlatch his son from around the tomb...

“Noooooo ! Noooo ! No no no !! Let go ! Let go ! Zayson !! Zayson !! JASSSONNNNNNNNNNN !!!!!!”

Damian kicked and screamed and cried all the way back to the manor. Kicked Bruce for taking him away from Jason. Screamed that they couldn’t leave him. Cried because he finally understood...

He finally understood what death meant.

Robin’s Training.

From that day, and although he never cared for it, Damian demanded to be trained like his brothers were.

Stubborn as ever, he would literally harass his father

And in many ways, the resolution of his little six years old boy, is what made Bruce open his eyes about young Timothy Drake.

Both of them wanted to be Robin. One to help, the other because of his brother’s death...

Damian decided “Robins again”, and Bruce complied.

Although, he started to train Damian making it clear that the boy was under no circumstances going to leave as Robin before he reached the age of 10/11 at least.

Damian agreed, and that’s how him and Tim started to train under the tutelage of The batman...

“You’re my brother now.”

Tim wasn’t like Dick, who wanted to make sense of his parents’ death.

Or like Jason, who never had anyone to care for him and who had to make sense of his own life.

Or even like Damian, destined to become a “Robin” because of who his father is, but also because of who his mother is.

Tim didn’t have any personal motive.

He still had his parents, he was from a rather wealthy family, he...He was just a kid, who was a huge Batman fan, and who wanted to help.

That’s what Tim was to the core, a highly intelligent child who just wanted to help. And that’s what he did.

He listened to Bruce, became good at fighting, an expert in tactics, and took a completely renewed Robin mantel...

He would go every night back to his parents’ house, where they’d barely acknowledge his existence. How ? How can such a lack of care and love create such a selfless boy ? Bruce didn’t know, but he was proud. And was it bad, that he started to see little Timothy as his own son ?

The boy would spend most days with him anyway now. With him, and with Damian.

Which was important. Tim had become the only one who managed to make Damian laugh, at this time. As expected, the boy and his discovery of what death truly was changed him...But Tim. Tim, he could bring back the Damian Bruce and Dick knew.

Additionally, them being rather competitive, they would bicker often, which would take Damian’s mind off of his pain.

Damian never bickered with Dick nor Jason. But he bickered a lot with Tim. Closer in age, maybe. They came to quickly care for each others, and were acting like brothers before becoming officially ones.

Some could think that the shock of losing his older Brother Jason would make Damian not want a new brother, not want a “replacement”...But Tim and Jason were so different, Tim was definitely not a replacement. And it didn’t feel right to Damian anymore, to not have two older brothers..

Tim became part of the family before he was adopted. Before his parents died.

And when a tragedy occurred, as it often happened in Gotham. When Tim lost his parents...Bruce and his family were ready to welcome him.

Bruce knew he’d never replace Tim’s real parents, no matter how bad and careless they were, and such. Yet...Yet when Tim stepped foot in the Manor, and had his own bedroom in it, and saw the official adoption papers...

Tim became Robin because he wanted to help.

He became part of the family because he was always here to help, to care, to love.

“You’re my brother now.”

Damian simply stated, but with a lot of emotions in his voice, hugging him as a way of giving him his condolences, and officially invite him in the house...

“You’re my brother now.”

A simple sentence, a heartfelt one full of promises of never letting one another down.

Yes. Yes. Tim Drake went from “only child” to brother of two.

The Mastermind behind the Cookie’ rapt.

Lighter days occurred, after this. Jason’s disappearance would forever leave a hole in their heart, of course, but they were all ready to

“Ok agent Damdam, are everything in order ?”

“Yes agent Tim, it is !”

“Codename agent Damdam !”

“Oh, sorry. Yes agent TOm, it is !”

“Good. Now, it’s time to put everything in action.”

Tim became a permanent member of the Wayne family very easily. He fitted right in.

He LOVED Dick and was a huge fan of his Robin, and as a child, of the “Flying Graysons”. And now, he got to be his little brother and they would get along very well. Dick was living in Bludhäven now, but would often come by.

And with Damian ? Well, he didn’t have that many years of difference with his brother, and although they bickered often, they also got along very easily.

Especially when it was about organizing stealth mission to steal cookies after dinner...

Alfred pretended he didn’t notice, and would always refill the cookie jar to make sure those little secret agent “DamDam” and “TOm” had a way to bond further, and something to steal.

Is a sister different than a brother ?

Cass came in soon after Tim did. About six months after. Bruce knew of her prior to her being adopted of course, or rather, he knew about her parents.

He knew what kind of life she lead. He knew how lonely, painful and...Of course, Bruce couldn’t leave her alone. Couldn’t leave her at her father’s mercy. Couldn’t let her stay a weapon.

They knew each other for a while, when Bruce asked her if she wanted to change, to get better, to break free of the chains her parents forged for her.

In Cass, Bruce saw a lot what Damian could’ve become. And there was no way he wouldn’t try to save her, if she was willing to be saved.

And she was. She was.

And in due time, after many adventures on her own and as a spy for Bruce...She was officially adopted. Just like all his other kids,

By that point, Damian was used to have new siblings, but he was a little worried...

Is a sister different than a Brother ?

No. Damian came to that conclusion very quickly. He loved Cass the same way he loved his brothers. She was important to him, and he wanted to be around her when he felt sad.

In fact, Cass became his shield against “Jason Blues”. That’s how he would come to call it one day. The very specific sadness little Damian felt when he was enjoying something, and wanted to go to Jason because he’d be sure he would enjoy it too...

Jason was always the fun, and funny brother. The one that would let Damian do anything to him, including the times Damian was being a little rough or obnoxious. Jason never said “no” to playing with Damian, like Dick would sometimes do (see previous chapter for more details about all this).

And even if Jason didn’t have any interest in whatever Damian wanted to do, he’d say “sure buddy”, and would play with him nonetheless. Tim wouldn’t do that either, they were close of course, and had a lot of common interest, but neither Tim nor Dick would just let Damian do whatever he wanted. At least, not all the time. Of course, they would often let him chose...

And so when something happened that Damian really wanted to share with Jason, only to realize that his brother was gone (he’d forget sometimes, that’s how surreal this felt), he would go to Cass.

Because Cass had a knack to be soothing. To find the right words, to...Maybe it was because she didn’t speak much ? Because she never had to and was taught to never feel ? Maybe that’s why, she always found the exact right short few words to cheer her little brother up again.

Wether it was a simple “love you”, or “believe in you”, or even “will always be in your heart” (the longest sentence she ever pronounced at the time), she just knew what to say. What to do.

Cass was extremely touched starved. Her father, of course, wanting an emotionless perfect weapon, would never touch her for anything else than to hurt her. And when Bruce gave her his first hug, she realized...She needed it.

It made her feel better, made her feel safe and warm.

And so she wouldn’t shy away from hugging her little brother, wether in public or not, when she felt he was sad.

Sometimes, he wouldn’t even had anything to say. She’d just know.

She’d tell him what he needed to hear, hug him, and be there as much as she could, trying to fill the void Jason left behind.

« I’m learning how to read Cass ! »

« Hello Cass ! Cass ! Cass ! Caaaass ! »

Damian was six. And the school year just started. And clearly, something very exciting happened at school, today.

And that exciting thing was...

“Cass, I’m learning how to read Cass, I’m learning how to read ! I can read you bed time stories now if you want ?”

Tim was the one in charged of bed time stories, as Dick lived in Bludhäven now. And neither Damian nor Cass knew how to read.

Cass being heavily dyslexic, she was slower in learning it, and would often become frustrated...Only with Bruce, would she make progress, as he was patient, forgiving, and wasn’t about to give up on her. Ever.

It touched Cass, that the first thought Damian had, as he was about to learn how to read, was that now, he too would be able to read her bed time stories.

Cass loved bed time stories. Many would say she was too old for them now, but she missed out on an entire childhood. She never had anyone tell her stories. So now, she had to catch up.

“Look, I brought my first book from the school’s library.”

Damian showed her, excitement overwhelming him a bit as he wasn’t able to stand still, and kept jumping from one foot to the other. Cass took the book, and opened it.

It was one of those stories that had very few words, and big images. Perfect to begin. Struggling, she managed to read the three first words, and when she turned to Damian...There were stars in his eyes.

“Wooow you read so well already ! Hey, what if we learn together ? It’s funner right ? Right ? Right ? I bet dad would say yes, what about you Cass, you wanna learn with me ? Uh ?”

It was adorable, how excited Damian was. Cass couldn’t help but think about what Bruce told her once, how his life could’ve been completely different, if he had stayed with the Al Ghuls...

Would he be as excited to learn how to read ? As impressed she managed to read three words ? Would he be that happy over those small things ?

Knowing her own experience, and how similar it was to what Ras had in mind for the boy...she knew that no, no he’d probably be an entire different child.

But hey, right now, her little brother’s excitement was quickly spreading to her. Proof that even children with broken childhood such as her, had a chance to change. To have a redemption arc.

And so here they sat, the both of them, trying to read this new book Damian brought, congratulating and praising each others, and being happy about small things they could’ve never noticed if Bruce hadn’t taken them away from a certain way of life...

Not that everything was perfect with Bruce. He had many flaws. But at least, he never did anything to stop them from having fun, or enjoying childish things. He never forced them to do anything they did not want to do. He never...

Bruce had many flaws, but they would never want any other father.

The Red Hood.

Two years after Cass was adopted, Damian was eight now and things were good. Well. Except for...

Bruce didn’t want to believe it, but now, faced with him, he had to admit it.

There was no doubt in his mind, that this was...this was...

Unfocused, unable to fight properly against him, he took a bad right hook to the face, which broke one of his mask’s lens.

Jason.

The way he moved, the way he fought.

This was Jason.

He was sure.

He’d have his suspicion for a while now, seeing videos of the infamous “Red Hood”, and encountering him a few times.

The man seemed to have a personal vendetta against The Batman, and now, Bruce knew why.

Jason. It was Jason.

And Bruce found himself unable to fight him properly. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t hurt his own son...Especially since he himself, thought he deserved all the punches and kick Jason was giving him.

After all, it was his fault if the boy died..

Years of guilt weighted Bruce down. And he let Jason give him the beating of his life...

“Defend yourself old man ! Don’t humiliate me by doing nothing, come on, defend yourself or I’ll-”

“ZAYSON !!”

Jason froze, as he was about to punch Bruce, and turned around. What...What was he doing here ?!

“Zayson Zayson !!”

The little boy, down there, kept yelling his name, and suddenly, Jason felt his heart beat faster. Felt his heart start again. All the memories...All the memories...

Bruce looked at his son, in Dick’s arms, and understood immediately what happened.

Dick knew his brother. He knew him very well. And he knew that seeing their youngest sibling would awaken something in him. It seemed like it worked, as Jason’s eyes filled with tears, and he let go of Bruce.

“Damian...”

Jason fell to his knees, and Dick put Damian on the floor. The little boy didn’t waste a second, he ran to his big brother, screaming excitedly “Zayson !!” along the way. He jumped into his brother’s opened arms, and started to cry-giggle uncontrollably.

“Zayson, I knew you wou’d come back ! I knew I said to Dad but he said you wou’dn’t but you did Zayson ! You did ! You’re back !”

Tears were running down the face of the little boy, tears of joy. And that giggle Jason sometimes heard, in his darkest moment, reminding him he was still human, still there...Jason’s hold on his little brother tightened, as the boy couldn’t stop his rambling about how he always knew he’d come back.

The Memories that saved him.

He could feel the warm tears of happiness from his little brother warming his cheek, as the boy held onto him.

He was taller than last time he saw him. Of course.

Not much taller, but still, he had a little growth spur, in those two years.

He was eight now. eight…Just a little younger than Jason was when Bruce adopted him…

And suddenly, a surge of memory came back to him. From that first day he met little 3 years old Damian, to his death…

“Hewwo Zayson”, the boy would say every morning, jumping on his bed to wake him up, bright smile and giggles. When he was three, he always struggled to climb onto the bed, and it would take him a hot minute to do so. Jason would pretend he was still asleep, as the boy would finally jump up and say “Hewwo Zayson !”. Over the years, Damian learned how to properly pronounced “Jason”, but just like “Fafred” those cute childish mispronunciation just stuck...And so, the boy was maybe able to talk properly and climb his brother’s bed more easily, he’d still say “Zayson” each times.

“I drew you Zayson !”, he’d say excitedly, already showing incredible skills and talent at art, regularly giving drawings as gifts to Jay. Jason’s bedroom’s walls could be a “Damian Wayne’s art gallery”.

“Catch me Zayson, catch me !”, he’d say, running around the manor or the Batcave, and Jason would pretend that he was too fast for him.

“Zayson, it hurts !”, he’d cry after a fall, and Jason would give him a magic kiss that’d make everything feel better, and a hug. Then he’d make him laugh, and Damian would forget all about his pain.

Flashes of memories, one after another. Birthdays in his family, finally loved and home. Making the pain of feeling betrayed by Bruce who did not avenge him even stronger...Yet this hurt couldn’t taint everything.

It couldn’t taint Damian’s smiles. It couldn’t taint how the boy absolutely adored his big brother Jason. It couldn’t taint being woken up every day by giggles and a mischievous smile. It couldn’t taint years of trying to be the best older brother, to such a sweet boy as Damian.

It couldn’t taint Dick’s teasing. It couldn’t taint how much his older brother worried for him, and told him to be careful when Jason didn’t take things too seriously. It couldn’t taint the nights of fear, being comforted by his older brother, just like Jason would comfort Damian...It couldn’t taint those nights feeling safe and warm, home, knowing his brothers were there.

And it couldn’t taint Bruce’s pride and love for him. It couldn't taint all the moments the man praised him, took care of him when he was hurt (both mentally and physically), gave him this new home and clearly tried to...tried to...

It couldn’t taint how Bruce truly cared...But if he did, why didn’t he kill the Joker ? Why didn’t he do it ? For him ? Just for him ? Maybe...Maybe there was a valid reason ? Maybe...

And it’s those precious untainted memories that made him hug his little brother back. That made him

Talia did it for them.

“I know you did it.”

He says, as if talking to no one in particular.

But then, out of the shadow, a figure appears.

The figure of a woman.

Talia.

Bruce turns to her, but she doesn’t look at him. Instead, she says :

“I did it for him. For Damian. And for you, too. But...”

“But it didn’t go as you planned.”

“No. It didn’t. He stood up from that pit lost and confused, and with no memories of who he was. And when he finally got them back...”

“Is that why you did not tell me what you did ?”

“Yes.”

“How long ?”

“Right after you buried him. We took him with us, to a Lazarus pit.”

“Was it his idea ?”

“Ras ?”

“Yes.”

“No. It was mine. I did it for Damian. And for you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me anything ? For two years ?”

“He lost his memory. I was afraid the shock...He didn’t know who he was. He was not your son anymore.”

“What did you do to him, then ?”

Silence.

“Talia, what did you do to my son ?”

“What would’ve happened to Damian if you didn’t take him...”

“What did you do ?”

“Ras turned him into his personal weapon. Jason was trained already, his brain remembered fighting, but his heart couldn’t remember his life.”

“For two years ?”

“A little less. He-he got hurt on a mission. Hurt pretty bad. And he-”

“He remembered.”

“Yes.”

“Four months ago ? When Red Hood appeared in Gotham ?”

“Yes.”

There’s a long silence, as Bruce tries to process those new informations.

So, Talia was the one to bring his son back. And she did it for Damian, for him. But things didn’t go as planned. Jason couldn’t remember, and Ras got a hold of him...Up until...

Up until a few months ago, when a shock brought back the trauma. The memories. And Jason came back to Gotham.

Jason came back home, only to realize the Joker was still alive. That Bruce didn’t kill him. Not even for him...And so Red Hood was born.

Bruce’s jaw clenches, as he feels a surge of pain. How much more was this boy going to endure ? Once again, the Batman was reminded of how important his children were in his life. Of how Damian changed his all world.

And changed Jason’s. How long would’ve Jason fight ? Would he have hit Bruce, that night ? If Damian didn’t arrive, what would’ve happened ? More and more anger, hate, frustration, pain and sadness ?

Bruce knew Jason didn’t forgive him yet, and only calmed down because of Damian (and Dick). And the Batman was determined to make amend. Amend that would start with a...

“Thank you.”

Bruce could not be mad at Talia. He could see that her intentions were good. That she really did this for Damian and for him. That she cared. That she loved them. But unfortunately, what kept them separated all those years ago was still the reason they couldn’t be together now.

Talia couldn’t break free from her father’s grasp. At least, not yet. But at the same time, didn’t she let Bruce take Damian and give him a better life ? Didn’t she use her father’s precious Lazarus pit to bring Jason back ? And wasn’t she here, right now, telling him the truth ?

There was still some good in Talia, and Bruce would never give up on it. But for now...For now, just like 9 years ago, she wasn’t ready to let go of her father’s legacy. Of her upbringing.

And so Bruce, without a look back, jumped away in the night, disappearing in the darkness.

“Thank you.”

Were the last words he said that night, and Talia watched him go, her heart heavy and wishing things...Wishing she had Damian’s chance when she was a baby, and that someone would’ve taken her away from Ras Al’Ghul.

Home Again.

Jason wasn’t ready.

No. He wasn’t ready to forgive Bruce yet. He wasn’t ready to call him “dad” again. He wasn’t ready to come back to the Manor.

He wasn’t ready.

The pain and anger was too fresh.

“You started to train him ? Him, Bruce ?! And you took a new Robin ?!”

“Before you get mad at me for this too, please listen to me. Your brother...After you died, and after he understood what happened to you, there was no way of keeping him away from this. You saw how I tried to have him have as little to do with Batman affairs as possible. I never trained him, I never...The only reason he hung out in the cave was because we were there, and it was better than a nanny. Clearly. You know how he hated being away from us. But I never, I can assure you Jason, I never intended for him to want to be Robin. It’s just...You died, and there was no trying to convince him to not want to be. As for Tim, it just happened. He’s a wonderful little boy who just wanted to help and...I’m not gonna let what happened to you happen again. I didn’t let them go out there right away, I trained them for years first. I told Cass. I told her.”

There’s a silence, where Jason looks around to his siblings (he somehow gained two, in his absence). He wanted to talk more about how wrong it was to have another Robin, to train Damian to...Instead he said :

“I still haven’t forgiven you. You have a lot to answer for.”

“I know.”

“I’m just here for Damian.”

“I know.”

“And for Dick.”

“I know.”

“I’m just here because I couldn’t beat your ass in front of them.”

“I know.”

“Don’t push your luck though.”

“I won’t.”

“Right. Well then. I’m off for now, I have things to do and-”

Damian grabbed Jason’s sleeves, panicked.

“You’re not leaving now, are you ??”

The boy didn’t care at all, wether Jason was “Red Hood” or not, wether he killed many criminels, wether...

“We’re watching Harry Potter, yes ?”

They used to watch Harry Potter a lot, when he was still alive. When he...

“You’re staying right ? And meet Tim and Cass more ? They’re your brother and sister, too.”

Brother ? Sister ? New ones ?

Jason wanted to leave. He didn’t want Damian to know how much he still loathed their father. But...But deep down, he knew he didn’t hate Bruce. He was just...So hurt. Hurt it didn’t seem he mattered enough to...

“Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix ? Your favorite ? Yes ? And with cookies from Alfred !”

Jason had never been able to resist his little brother. Today wasn’t an exception...And so he stayed.

He ended up staying all night, marathoning Harry Potter movies. He ended up picking Damian up, and going to put him in his bed, tucking him in, as he did often years ago.

He didn’t talk to Bruce, but he stayed. He stayed, and met his new brother and sister. He stayed because of Dick. Because of Damian. Because of Alfred. Definitely not because of Bruce...

He stayed. And ended up crashing in his old bedroom, which didn’t change one bit. And for the first time in those two frightening, scary and painful years...

He felt home.

************

When Damian woke up, he was suddenly overcame with the fear that his brother might not be here anymore ! That him not being dead was just a beautiful, beautiful dream.

So, just like he did 3 years ago now, he jumped out of his bed, and the first thing he did was to run to Jason’s room.

The way was longer now. After Jay’s death, they all decided to move in the East Wing, and the West wing became sort of abandoned. In the end, only Alfred would go there to keep the place up. Sometimes, Bruce would silently go to Jason’s room, left untouched since he died, and it would be so painful...

The West Wing was pretty much abandoned. Jason’s absence resonated too much, in it.

And so, as Damian jumped out of his bed, he had to cross the entire manor to go to Jason’s bedroom, who kept the one he used to have.

But last night was nice. It felt nice, to be with his brothers (and sister too, now !). It felt...it felt...It felt like home.

This time also allowed him to get more acquainted with both Tim and Cass, and it was clear from that point on, the three of them would become just as close as Jason was with Dick and Damian.

Jason’s “big brother instincts” had always been rather developed.

But anyway, Damian was finally reaching his room and...He stopped in front of it. What if, just like it happened three years ago, he’d open the door to find the room empty.

The bed still made.

As if Jason never came back. As if Jason would never come back.

What if indeed, them being reunited and all this Red Hood business was just a dream ?

What if...

The bedroom’s door open, letting some light in the dark corridor, and a silhouette appears in its frame.

“Oh hey little bugger, thought I heard your footsteps closing in. What’re you doing up so early ? And what are you standing there without-”

Before Jason could finish his sentence, Damian had jumped in his arms.

This wasn’t a dream ! This wasn’t a dream !

Jason was really back !

He was taller, had an odd white streak in his hair, and was more of a man now, than the teen Damian remembered, but his brother was back !

He truly was !

Now, now his family was full again. There wasn’t a huge gap in their lives. A taboo subject no one ever talked about in fear of hurting their family.

Jason’s name was rarely uttered, in the Wayne’s household. For Bruce, Alfred, Dick and Damian, it was too painful. For Tim and Cass, it was the constant fear of bringing up too many bad memories.

But it was fine now, he could say his name, they could joke about how he had trouble pronouncing it and “Zayson” seemed to have stuck even now. They could try to mend the pieces of their heart now, they could really try.

The family was bigger than when Jason left, but it only made his return stronger ! Or at least, that’s how Damian viewed it.

And so here he was, clinging to him.

**********

A little while later, Jason walked down to the kitchen to have breakfast, holding Damian in his arms, who just refused to let go.

The kitchen was empty, but for Bruce, who was eating ice cream straight out of the tub. Talk about a breakfast...

“Are you pregnant ?”

Bruce rolled his eyes, but took two more spoons to give to his sons. Jason sat Damian on the counter, and sat a seat away from his dad, stealing the ice scream tub from him.

The road would be long, before Jason could even begin to forgive his dad...But Bruce was hopeful. He was hopeful that Jason would understand.

His son had always been understanding, forgiving and empathic. Always.

Maybe that’s why the pain of thinking Bruce didn’t care was so grand ? Probably. But Bruce was determined to fix things. He was.

The road would be long, but as Bruce looked at his sons smiling and talking about things as if Jason was never gone, Bruce was hopeful.

Even if his boy would never forgive him, at least...At least his kids were reunited.

************

Final Crisis.

Jason was back.

The family was full again.

The siblings were as close as ever. It wasn’t always easy, and there were fights and misunderstanding and bickering...But even if just like any other family, they had their little differences, things were good. Really good.

Bruce was a proud father, and trusted them enough that he left Dick in charge of taking care of Gotham, as important matters called him elsewhere and...

That’s when it happened.

They received a call from the Justice League Watchtower. From Superman. And what he had to say

“I-...I don’t know how to say this guys. I-Your father he-I...Your father is gone.”

To be continued..

__________________________________________________

I hope you liked it, see you soon with the final part, and don’t hesitate to leave some feedback and to reblog, it’s always beyond appreciated <3.Ok phew, it’s 2 am, off to bed. Sorry for any horrible typo or if it’s not great.

Before I get any question about this, YES, of course Steph and Duke will appear too ! Oh and Babs DUH ! (She was actually supposed to appear earlier but I ended up scratching the idea as it felt out of place in this chapter). They will all appear in the final part, as this took way longer than I initially thought ^^' and I wanna write all of them right (and not just write two paragraph because I fear it’s getting too long and wanna cut to the chase, know what I mean ?). For both Babs and Steph I’ll use flashbacks to talk about how they’ve been in the Bats family for a while, I just really didn’t know how to fit them there right now, it didn’t fit the mood, and for Duke, well he does appear quite late in the Bats stories as he’s a fairly new character so it fits there). By the way, if you have any questions about ages and such in this fic, the explanation is at the end of chapter 1, I went into details about everything.

PS : for people not really reading comics very quickly : in Final Crisis Bruce is rumored dead (he obviously comes back later...with a new costume hahahaha). It’s personally not one of my favorite run, but I do like Dick as Batman and his relationship to Damian is interesting. Now obviously here there’s a MASSIVE change, since Damian normally comes in Bruce’s life not long before his “death”. So I’ll talk about this in the next chapter hehe. More Talia too. Anyway I was saying, Final Crisis and whatever happens in New 52 afterward and all = really not my fav. However, that’s when Duke appears and co (fairly new character, 2014 eh) so if we want him in, we have to go through some events from New 52 and co I guess....ANYWAY HERE WE ARE. Finally coming to an age we first truly discovered Damian hehe, when he was around 10 :). That’s when the true differences begin.

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goulets · 3 years ago

Text

Heartland

Chapter: 1/8 Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson Additional Characters: Colin Wilkes, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Alfred Pennyworth Rating: T (for now) Case Fic/Kid Fic a03 link

Jason looks down at the baby, at watery brown eyes and tiny hands, fingers stretching out without knowing what they're reaching for. She yawns and makes a sucking noise, turning her head into his chest.

Damn it.

“We'll do shifts,” he says to Dick, making his tone as businesslike as possible. “I still have shit to do; I can't sit around playing house with you all day.”

Dick doesn't smile, but Jason can see that he wants to. “That sounds reasonable.”

“This is temporary. Just until we find the fuckers that want to take her out.”

“Sure it is.” Dick's all doe-eyed now, watching the baby settle down to sleep. “Welcome home, Jaybird.”

(colin)

It's a quarter past five and the first streams of daylight are curling over the horizon when Colin finally makes it back to the orphanage. He's down to his normal size, brass knuckles heavy in his pockets and slowing his already exhausted steps. It'll be at least three hours before the younger kids wake up; time enough to get one REM cycle in before he's got all those mouths to feed. Damian taught him about monitoring his REM cycles, how it's sometimes better to get three hours than four, how to stay sharp even when he's running on no sleep at all.

Even better, Dick once told him he's welcome at the manor anytime he needs to rest undisturbed, or a hot meal, or a 'flying lesson', whatever that means. Damian had thrown a batarang at his head when he'd suggested it, so Colin assumes it's some kind of inside joke. Regardless, he hasn't been back at the manor to take Dick up on his offer. Batman's back – the real Batman – and Colin would be the worst kind of liar if he said he wasn't a little bit terrified to face him, considering the circumstances of their first meeting.

A motion in the alley next to the orphanage catches his eye, and he stills. Vagrants don't usually start coming around until the soup kitchen opens, and all the thugs he's used to dealing with tend to wait until the kids are up to start messing with them. That's why Colin likes the walk back from patrol, despite his tiredness, despite the chill that rolls off the ever-present fog. The city's glow is muted at this hour, its inhabitants either just starting to stir or just turning in. He's alone with the smog and the molten aura of the streetlights, and there's a quiet about it all that makes even the bloodstains on his knuckles feel pure, purposeful.

That said, he really does need to invest in some gloves.

The figure in the alley is still moving, clumsy and hurried, and all at once Colin realizes what it is they're fumbling with. There's a sort of house-shaped capsule outside St. Aden's, a narrow chute with a small door that doesn't have a lock, and a weathered sign on the front that depicts the outline of an infant. It's a Safe Surrender site, a place where people can legally abandon their newborns, and someone is using it for the first time since Colin's been at the orphanage.

He creeps closer, keeping to the shadows.

The figure spends about five more seconds fumbling with something on the ground, then wrenches open the door to the capsule and deposits something inside. Colin's stomach twists; the blue light above the capsule illuminates, and he can hear a faint alarm going off in the nuns' office. He wonders if they'll even know what it's for. The figure startles at the light, hastily grabs what looks like an empty bag off the ground, and bolts.

Colin wants to follow, but finds himself unable to walk past the capsule without checking it, and once he sees what's inside, he knows there's no chance of him giving chase. The baby is sleeping, definitely not a newborn, but not more than a few months old. Its tiny body is wrapped in a dirty blanket, wisps of black hair sticking out from an unprotected head. Colin supposes he wouldn't have needed to pursue whoever dropped it off; for all intents and purposes, they might think they're doing the right thing. St. Aden's won't turn the baby away, and it's a better option than leaving it in a gutter or a dumpster, which, in Gotham, is not a thing unheard of.

The baby stirs as a stiff breeze swirls through the alley, making Colin shiver. The nuns will be dressed and out in five minutes, give or take. They'll at least put a hat on the baby, Colin thinks. He doesn't know much about babies, but he knows they need hats. The orphanage has baby hats, and diapers, and blankets, albeit thin ones, most with holes. They might even have a spare teddy bear for when the baby has nightmares. No one comforts you when you have nightmares at St. Aden's. The nuns aren't big on hugs, even the babies they hold as little as possible.

Colin may not know a lot about babies, but he knows what happens when you don't hold them. The kids at the orphanage who've been there since infancy are a testament to that. Colin shivers again, thinking of vacant eyes and hunched shoulders. Pale skin and raw voices. Underdeveloped, broken bodies, floating in the river.

The light in the nuns' office comes on. Less than a minute now. Before he can fully process what he's doing or why he's doing it, Colin scoops the baby out of the capsule and cradles it carefully in his arms, walking briskly out of the alley the way that he came. The fog feels damper; it clings to him like it means to shield him from view. As an afterthought, Colin takes off his own hat and uses it to cover the baby's head.

***

“What is so urgent,” Damian snarls, swinging into the garage and making Colin jump and almost topple over, “that it couldn't wait at six in the fucking morning?”

Moving past his initial alarm, Colin feels relief wash over him at seeing his friend. Damian is decked out in his Robin costume and, all things considered, no grumpier than usual. “I'm so glad you're here,” he says in a rush. “I think – I think I screwed up, and I don't know what to do. Um.”

He decides not to draw it out, and instead steps aside, gesturing to the side compartment of his motorcycle. The baby is still sound asleep; he's wrapped his jacket around it as well. He won't die from the cold, but he worries that the baby might.

“What the – ” Damian blinks at the sleeping infant, then points to Colin without looking away. “Explain.”

Colin does. “And I thought if I called you, you might know what to...because you and Batman have handled this kind of stuff, right? You know who to, um.” He pauses, and realizes that he doesn't actually know why his first instinct was to call Damian, aside from the fact that he really has no one else to call. He wraps his arms around himself and lets out a short breath. “What do we do?”

“There's no 'we',” Damian says automatically, just like Colin knew he would. “You can't take care of a baby. You're ten. You have to put it back.”

Colin doesn't move. He knows Damian is probably right. “I just,” he starts to say, searching for the words. He's so tired he can barely think straight. “I guess I wanted it to have a chance. You know? Kids at the orphanage...kids like me, we don't get a lot of choices. Everyone ends up being a bad guy or a victim.” He swallows. “We don't need any more of either in this town.”

Damian scowls and rubs at his mask absently. “You're not either one of those things.”

Colin look at his fist and squeezes it, concentrating. Within a minute, his forearm is as big around as his leg. “No, I'm not,” he says. Damian has gone very still. Colin closes his eyes and feels his way back to his normal size, flexing his hand once it's shrunk back down. “Not anymore.”

“I – ” Damian cuts himself off, clenching his jaw. “Fine. We'll take it back to the manor. We have to go now, before they realize I'm gone.”

Colin bites back a grin and scoops the baby up, cradling its head carefully against his chest. The baby's face isn't cold anymore, which gives him an unexpected surge of elation, and he practically skips to Damian's side, earning a severely reproachful look from his friend.

“How did you get here?”

“I swiped Father's keys,” Damian says dryly, holding them out and pressing a button. Brilliant headlights illuminate the alley outside the garage, and Colin's jaw drops as a sleek, two-door Batmobile pulls up in front of them.

“How did – ”

“Remote autopilot. It drives itself.”

“Whoa.”

Damian rolls his eyes and presses another button, making the roof retract halfway. He swings in over the door and says, “Don't scratch the interior.”

Colin slides in beside him, awestruck. He's in the freaking Batmobile. If everything under the sun goes wrong with this sort-of kidnapping, even if he winds up in jail, it'll be so worth it.

***

(jason)

Jason's not having a particularly good day.

Scratch that, it's nine in the morning, and Jason's already not having a particularly good day.

“Where did you say you heard this?” Bruce asks, frowning at his computer screen. Translation: which parts of this are you lying about, Jason?

“Oh, you know,” Jason says, not caring to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “Me and some of my League buddies were doing tapas over at Ocho, and you know how they get when the wine starts pouring.” Bruce glares at him, and he glares right back. “All I know is Shiva's overseas for the foreseeable future. Just thought I'd share, since I heard you were looking. But whatever you want her for, I'm telling you, she probably didn't do it. This time.”

Bruce stares at him, cold and still as a statue. Jason wants to hit himself. Idiot move, coming here. Not like the Great Bat Detective needs his legwork anyhow.

He squares his shoulders and says, “Hey, take it or leave it. Which, speaking of, I'm gonna go ahead and leave now.”

Bruce's silence follows him out, and Jason practices the tried-and-true strategy of stirring up old resentments to mask the hurt. Not like he'd expected old Batsy to fall all over himself with excitement on account of a visit from his fallen son, but there's a cold reception, and there's the patented Bruce Wayne Freeze-Out. If Jason had imagined their shared history of returning from the dead would bring them closer together, he'd been sorely mistaken.

“Will you be joining us for breakfast, Master Jason?” Alfred asks, wiping his hands on a dish towel as Jason attempts to hustle past the kitchen. Habit has him pausing, because you just don't blow off Alfred, and that small hesitation is all it takes for the smells wafting out of the kitchen to hit him head-on. And oh, do they hit him. Pancakes, eggs, bacon – turkey bacon, Jason's favorite, of course Alfred remembers that stupid little detail. He probably also remembers that Jason is pathologically incapable of refusing food. Bastard.

“I'm not really – ” he starts to say hungry, but his stomach picks that exact moment to let loose a traitorous growl that echoes down the hallway and probably wakes up any still-asleep inhabitants of the manor.

Alfred, to his everlasting credit, doesn't even flinch. Jason heaves a sigh. “Yeah, all right. Just a bite, I guess.”

“I'll set a place for you.” Like the old man hasn't already.

Jason tugs off his gloves and makes his way to the sink to wash up. No telling what's living under his nails these days, but it's probably better not to ingest it.

“This is really good, Alfie,” he says through a thick bite of pancake. “Damn. I hope the new kid knows how good he's got it.”

“I'm afraid I haven't met anyone quite as enthusiastic about my cooking as you, Master Jason. Except, on occasion – Master Richard!”

“Hey, Alfie! Man it smells good, what's the occasion?” A shirtless, pajama-pants clad Dick Grayson bounds into the kitchen, more golden retriever than man, and stops on one foot with his face six inches above the bacon pan, breathing in. “Hey, is that turkey bacon?” He whirls around. “Jason!”

“Um.” Jason goes very stiff in his seat, teeth locked together around a forkful of eggs. Chew, swallow. He hadn't know Dick was here; hadn't figured any of the bat clan would even be awake at this charming daylight hour, except Bruce, who Jason's convinced deprogrammed the biological need to sleep out of his system years ago. “Hey.”

Dick looks pleased to see him, but confused. He's still on one foot. Jason represses the childish urge to throw something at him; knock him over like a big stupid bowling pin. “What are you doing here?”

“Just came by to drop off some intel,” he shrugs, fidgeting with his napkin. “You know how it is. Spend enough time cracking skulls, more than brain tissue leaks out.”

When Dick doesn't react beyond placing both feet on the ground and pursing his lips disapprovingly, Jason puts on his best shit-eating grin. Ah, ruining family meals. Just like old times.

“Thanks for the grub, Alfie,” he calls, swinging his legs over the side of his chair. “Think I've overstayed my welcome now, so I'm just be on my way.” He deliberates for a moment before snatching the last piece of turkey bacon off his plate, then walks briskly out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

“Jason – wait up a second.” Dick's voice behind him, close behind him, practically a whisper. Jason turns and takes a deliberate step backward, putting space between them. He's fairly sure he can take Dick hand-to-hand, but he wants to be as close to the exit as possible when he does.

“What?” he demands, more roughly than he needs to. He shifts his hip to feel the handle of his knife pressing into it; the exact shape he'll mold his palm to if he needs to draw it.

Dick crosses his arms and stares him down steadily. It's a mistake to make eye contact with him, because Dick's stare isn't like Bruce's, shrewd and penetrating, it's not a gaze that takes any effort to hold. Quite the contrary – Jason's always had trouble breaking eye contact with Dick. Bruce's stare goes through him, turns him inside out, but Dick's grips him, surrounds him, takes the full measure of him without pulling everything ugly to the surface. It's unnerving. He'd rather face Bruce any day.

“You don't have to leave just because I walked into the room.”

He shouldn't be able to project so much earnestness in nothing but faded Superman sleep pants, Jason thinks. It defies human nature.

“It was more of a sashay,” he smirks, still not blinking. “And it's not on your account, don't worry. I just have shit to do.”

“You should come by more often,” Dick presses.

It's all Jason can do not to throw his head back and laugh. “Right,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “That's gonna happen over Bruce's dead body.”

There's a flash of pain on Dick's face, and Jason thinks his phrasing was probably ill-advised. Too soon and all. Oh well.

“That's not true,” Dick shakes his head, shaggy hair falling in front of his eyes. Jason feels a bizarre and fleeting urge to brush it away, makes it an immediate priority to repress desires like that as far down as they can possibly go. “Look, I know it hasn't always been easy – ”

Jason scoffs. “Oh, sure.”

“ – but if you'd just give him some time, I know he wants you back, Jason. You're family. And I think you know it too, or you wouldn't even be here.”

Defiant rage stirs in Jason's stomach, but this isn't the time or the place for that kind of reaction. He settles instead on indifference. “That's an old tune, Dickie. Might be time to learn some new ones.”

Dick's expression softens. Damnit. This is why he can't stand around talking to Dick, making fucking chitchat and this perverse, endless eye contact. They observe each other in circles, it's nearly impossible to hide, and Dick doesn't hide anything, which means Jason's at an automatic disadvantage. Every goddamn time.

It's pointless to bare his teeth in a grin and offer a sardonic wave, but Jason does it anyways. “It's been real, Boy Wonder. I'll catch you la – ”

“Shh.” Dick puts up a finger, frowning. He looks up the stairs. “Do you hear that?”

If this is another strategy to try and stall him, Jason's gonna start throwing punches. “Hear what?” he demands. He's about to tell Dick to go fuck himself – which, he probably can, fucking acrobat – no, bad visual, stop thinking about Dick naked, Jesus fucking Christ – when he hears it too.

It sounds like – “Is that a baby?” He looks sideways at Dick. “Bruce have a second love child already?”

Dick says, “I'll see you later, Jason,” and starts climbing the stairs.

Well, obviously Jason can't leave now.

They follow the cries down one of the many upstairs hallways, which, from the portraits and weaponry lining the walls, Jason figures must lead to Damian's room. Dick pauses outside a closed door, pressing his ear to it, and, curiosity getting the better of him, Jason follows suit.

“You have to get it to shut up! The whole mansion's probably heard it by now!”

“I'm trying!” an unfamiliar voice hisses, and there's the sound of a hiccup from a third unfamiliar voice. Presumably something babylike. “Do you think it's hungry?”

“How the hell should I know? This was your moronic idea, Colin, don't you know anything about babies?”

“Maybe we should google it.”

“I'm going to kill you. Actually, when Father finds out we kidnapped a fucking baby, he'll kill us both. I can't believe I let you talk me into this mess.”

The crying starts again. Dick looks at Jason and mouths, one, two, three, before pushing the door open and revealing their presence.

It's quite a scene. Damian's in half his costume, mask, boots, and cape discarded on the floor, and he's grinding his teeth at another boy, a redhead kid in a dirty checkered sweatshirt who looks to be around his age. The redhead kid looks horrified to see them standing there, first going furiously red, then white as a sheet. But the thing that really grabs Jason's attention is the baby – yep, a flesh-and-blood human infant – cradled awkwardly in the redhead kid's arms, screaming its tiny head off.

Dick looks between them, his eyes enormous. “Damian? Colin? What is this?”

It's a question, not an accusation. Jason has to hand it to him; Bruce would've had them sizzling on the grill the second the word 'kidnapped' reached his ears.

Colin says, “It's not what it looks like!”

Dick glances sideways at Jason. “Okay, but. I'll be honest, I'm not even sure what it looks like.”

Jason shrugs. “You kids abduct any babies lately?”

“We didn't abduct it,” Damian snarls. “Colin found it. Abandoned. It was my mistake to bring it here.”

The baby cries louder. It's a miracle Alfred hasn't come running yet.

“Someone dropped it at St. Aden's,” Colin says quickly, between bouts of screaming. “I just – I couldn't just leave it there, you don't know what it's like, growing up that way.” He clutches the baby to him fiercely, bitterness etched all over his face. “You might as well hand him over to the gangs right now, because that's where he'll end up.”

Dick looks horribly conflicted. Jason laughs out loud.

“So, what was your plan?” he asks incredulously. “Two ten year olds, teaming up to raise a baby? Which one of you's the mom?”

Dick's arm blocks Damian's sharp kick to Jason's face. “Thank you, Jason, that was helpful,” he says. “But, uh, what was the plan, exactly?”

Everyone looks to Colin, who shrinks visibly under their combined gaze. “I don't know,” he says in a small voice, nearly indecipherable beneath the baby's cries. “I hadn't really thought that far ahead. I just – I thought Batman could save him.”

It takes everything in Jason's face-saving book not to respond to that, but he barely manages to keep his mouth shut. Dick shoots him a look of gratitude, and he rolls his eyes. Obviously there are more pressing issues at hand than his lingering manpain; Jason's not that self-involved.

“Okay,” Dick says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Here's how we solve this. He – she? – we'll figure it out, whatever, is probably hungry. And wet. Did you two change its diaper?”

Damian and Colin look at each other and shrug helplessly. “Right.” Dick points one hand behind him. “I'm going to go to the kitchen; I know Alfred keeps formula in there somewhere. And we should have diapers in one of the emergency supply closets. I'll get that stuff. Jason, take the baby for a minute, would you? Colin looks like he's about to drop.”

Jason backs against the wall, saying, “Oh no, I don't – that's not a – ” but then the screaming bundle is being precariously extended towards him, and instinct has him reaching out to take it.

“Jesus,” he mutters, feeling the fragile weight of the baby in his arms. Can't be much more than ten pounds. He has handguns with more substance than this thing. “Where're you keeping those lungs, little guy?”

Silence falls over the room, and it takes Jason a minute to realize that he didn't spontaneously go deaf, the baby stopped crying. Its tiny eyes – brown, dark and wet – are blinking up at him like he's the most interesting thing in the world.

Oh, no.

This is a disaster.

He doesn't hear Dick's intake of breath so much as he feels it, which might be because he's holding his breath too, because the baby is looking at him, and damnit, this is the last fucking thing he needs in his life. “Go,” he says to Dick, inserting as much venom into his voice as possible, wrenching his eyes away from the baby's. “It's probably just going into shock or something.”

The baby farts.

“Okay, or that.”

Dick bites his lip hard, and ten different emotions of various intensities flash through Jason's gut. Then he's gone, cartwheeling down the staircase, knowing him.

Colin says, “Wow, it really likes you.”

Damian smirks. “I guess we know who the mom is.”

“Don't think because I've got a ten pound handicap I won't kick your ass, kid,” Jason snaps. It's an empty threat, and they all know it. For now anyways. Once the baby situation's dealt with, all bets are off.

Dick's back within five minutes, armed to the teeth with things more frightening to Jason than any weapon he can imagine. Diapers, wipes, blankets, bottles, even a tiny blue hat that looks handmade. Jason's heart thuds unevenly in his chest, recognizing Alfred's handiwork in the stitching; indisputable evidence that Bruce Wayne, Batman, was once a baby just like this one. It'd be hilarious, if he could push a laugh past the lump in his throat.

“Here.” Dick hands him a diaper. It has Mickey Mouse on it.

Jason shakes his head. “Nuh-uh. I didn't sign up for this shit. And I mean that in the literal sense; I did not put 'clean up baby shit' in my day planner today.” He thrusts the diaper back at Dick.

“Fine,” Dick snaps, holding his arms out expectantly. “Give me the baby. Damian, shake up this formula, will you?”

Damian snatches the bottle out of his hand and shakes it with the aggression of a paint mixer. Well, hey, at least he's dedicated.

The baby starts to fuss as it's transferred from Jason's arms to Dick's, and the lump in Jason's throat gets bigger. “Hey, hey,” Dick croons, settling the baby down on the rug and starting to unwrap its blanket. “You're okay, little guy. We got you – oh, I'm sorry,” he grins, glancing up at Jason. “Little girl, I'm guessing.”

Jason peers over his shoulder and sees that under the blanket, the baby is wearing tiny pink pajamas with little white and green flowers. Like the blanket, the pajamas are dirty. He wonders when the baby last had a bath.

Not your problem. He needs to get the hell out of here.

“Ooh, someone's got a full diaper,” Dick goes on. Jason wants to kick him in the back of the head. “Let's fix that, huh? Oh, yeah. We'll get someone on that right away.”

Jason jumps backward when Dick extends the dirty diaper to him, and Dick rolls his eyes. “It's just pee. Get over yourself, honestly.”

“Fuck you,” Jason growls. “I'm not part of this.”

Colin walks over with dogged footsteps and takes the diaper from Dick, folding it over until it's a tight little pocket that fits in the palm of his hand. He turns to Damian. “Where's the garbage?”

Damian jerks his head in the direction of the bathroom, and Dick glares at Jason as he refastens the baby's pajamas.

The baby's fussing turns into loud wails again, and Dick picks her – no, it, can't think of it as a person, damnit – up, rocking his arms gently. The baby cries, rubs its face on Dick's chest, and then turns its head and look directly at Jason.

“Aw, Jay. Looks like she's got a crush.”

“Please.” Jason rolls his eyes and tries to ignore the vise that's squeezing in his chest. He really, really needs to leave. Like, yesterday.

But then Dick starts feeding the baby, and Jason finds himself utterly rooted to the spot.

It figures that parenting is something that would come naturally to Dick. It seems like most things come naturally to him, particularly the things that terrify normal people, like leaping off tall buildings, running into the line of fire, taking on twenty armed goons with nothing but his stupid fucking escrima sticks. Dick cradles the baby with arms that've put hundreds of criminals on their asses, arms that are scarred all over, just like Jason's. He gazes down at the baby as it eats, murmuring praise, shifting slowly from foot to foot, and that damn thing won't stop looking at Jason, even while it's sucking enthusiastically at the bottle.

Footfalls behind him; a distinct step he'd know anywhere. “I took the liberty of digging up some clothes for our young guest,” Alfred says, as though nothing is out of the ordinary. “They're a bit dated, but I believe they should still be suitable.”

“Can we all get out of my room now?” Damian asks. “I'd like to change, and I'd prefer to do it without the entire household watching.”

Alfred nods. “Certainly, Master Damian. Master Richard, perhaps it would be prudent to bring this matter to Master Bruce at this time.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dick says, heavily, shooting another look at Jason. Why does he keep doing that? “Let's just get her fed and changed really quick.”

“Of course.”

As soon as they're downstairs, the baby spits out the nipple and screws up its face like it's going to start howling again. Jason doesn't know what it is, some kind of long-buried impulse, a skill set he never thought he'd had to begin with, but he's stepping forward with his arms outstretched, palms open and flat, like he could do a damn thing to keep the baby quiet.

Dick pegs him with a curious look, and Jason freezes. “You wanna hold her?”

“What? No,” Jason says, shoving his arms down to his sides. “I just – I thought you were gonna drop it. Her.”

Dick doesn't say anything, and Jason feels a flush creeping up his neck. “You know what, it seems like you guys have this all handled. I'm just gonna...go.”

He turns, and the baby starts crying again.

Jesus Christ in a goddamn handbasket, this is bad.

“If you wouldn't mind,” Dick says, carefully, “We could use the help. Until we figure out what to do.”

“He can help,” Jason protests, pointing at Colin.

“I actually, um,” Colin looks vaguely terrified, glancing guiltily between them. “I have to go, my kids – there's kids at the orphanage, I have to be there. For them.”

Jason doesn't think about the time he spent on the streets, doesn't relive those fun childhood memories for any reason, but they're a scar on his psyche, forever etched in, and he can't exactly make them go away, either. He remembers the kids from the orphanages, how little and lost they were, better cared for but more unloved than any of the other street kids. He remembers standing up for them as much as he remembers knocking them over and stealing from them. No kids are worse equipped to protect themselves. Colin looks like he weighs eighty pounds soaking wet, but Jason reasons that he wouldn't be friends with Damian if he couldn't take a hit.

Colin probably takes a lot of hits on behalf of his kids. The thought turns Jason's stomach, and he knows he can't ask him to stay.

Dick frowns and starts to say, “I'm sure – ”

“Go,” Jason says quickly, giving Colin a short nod. “It's fine, whatever. My shit can wait a few hours.”

Everyone stares at him. The baby is still crying.

“Oh, for fuck's sake. Fine, give me the damn kid.” He sets his jaw and takes the baby from Dick, expressly avoiding Dick's eyes, or any part of his face, for that matter. The baby fusses for a minute, then seems to catch sight of Jason's face again, and settles down at once.

Shit, shit, shit.

***

“You're doing this completely wrong,” Jason tells the baby as they make their way down to the Batcave. “I'm sure as hell not taking you home with me, I'll tell you that much. No offense.”

The baby coughs, and Jason finds himself holding it a little tighter. It's all very unnerving, the way he's already used to the shape of its small form in his arms, the way its head fits snugly into the soft spot of flesh between his shoulder and his breastbone. Alfred threw out the ratty blanket it was wrapped in and gave them a new one, along with a pink cotton onesie with a stiff lace collar. Purchased forty odd years ago by Martha Wayne, on the off-chance that she was having a baby girl. A little piece of trivia that Jason is going to any lengths necessary not to think about.

“It fits with the intel I got last week,” Tim is saying, “Qurac is a big job; she wouldn't be doing it alone.”

“No,” Bruce agrees, hunched over in front of his massive screen. “Perhaps the League of Assassins isn't behind this at all.”

“So either someone's setting it up to look like they...” Tim trails off, catching sight of Jason, or more accurately, the wiggling bundle in his arms. “Is that a baby?”

Jason looks down and gasps. “Holy shit, how did that get there?”

Dick rolls his eyes. Tim says, “Wait, it's not – ”

“It's not mine, Replacement. Don't give yourself a stroke deducing over there.”

Bruce turns in his chair to face them, frowning deeply. His eyes take in Dick, Jason, and the baby. “Where's Damian?”

Dick steps forward. “He went with Alfred to take Colin ho – back to St. Aden's.”

“Ah.” Bruce nods. “So that's where he went this morning.” His gaze lands on the baby. “I take it the infant came from the orphanage as well.”

“She's really sweet, Bruce.” Dick adopts a pleading voice. “Colin thought he was doing the right thing.”

“Colin can look after her when she's returned to St. Aden's,” Bruce says firmly. “The Mansion is no place for a baby.” He stands and walks over to Jason. “May I?”

It takes Jason a moment to realize that Bruce is asking his permission to hold the baby. He doesn't know what's more surprising, the fact that Bruce is asking at all, or the fact that he wants to refuse, to take the baby and run as far away as possible, to an alternate universe where parents don't abandon their kids or sell them out, where they don't let psychopaths murder them, where they'd rather burn the world down than let any harm come to another child on their watch.

He thinks that Bruce can probably see his struggle painted on his face as he waits for his answer. And he is waiting, because the question wasn't a formality, it's a real uncertainty, and Bruce is asking Jason whether or not he trusts him to take this small life and protect it, even if it's just for a few moments.

Jason's reflexive answer is a harsh and unforgiving fuck no, but that's not the end of it. There's something deeper inside him, something that's been climbing toward the surface for a while now, no matter how hard he tries to bury it, that tells another story. A lot of other stories.

Rather than sift through them, he bites his tongue and hands the baby over. He tells himself he won't look at Bruce to see his reaction, but how often do you get to see Batman with a baby?

Jason will die again a hundred times before he ever admits it, but the vision of Bruce, half-suited up, broad and unyielding and Batman, folding his arms into a cradling position for the baby, is actually pretty fucking charming. He wouldn't've guessed that Bruce had a lot of experience with small children, but he doesn't look uncomfortable. The baby whines and stirs, little hands feebly reaching up to clutch at the bat symbol on his chest, and Jason thinks he actually sees Bruce's mouth quirk in a smile.

“I'm just going to scan her handprint,” he says, addressing Jason.

Jason shrugs. “Whatever.”

The whining stops as soon as he takes the baby over to the enormous computer screen, and Jason hopes that all the lights and flashing images don't fry the baby's brain. There are shots of crime scenes, bodies with blood spilled onto the street, rotating in the corner of the screen, and Jason hopes the baby's subconscious doesn't file those images away for night terrors down the road. Although, if it's going back to the orphanage, it'll see the real thing soon enough.

There's an uplifting thought.

“Danielle Leigh Torres,” Bruce says after a moment. “Born the sixteenth of January. Parents Linda Torres – deceased, and Mitchell Howard, also deceased.”

“Wait a minute.” Tim's gone still with his hand hovering over the keyboard. “Mitch Howard – that's Big Mouth Howard's real name.”

Big Mouth Howard. Jason's heard the name – some lowlife, maybe a bookie? He doesn't know why it'd be significant to any of them, but the way Tim and Bruce are looking at each other suggests that there's something fairly major he's missing. Jason glances at Dick, and is relieved to see that he looks just as out of the loop.

“You two wanna clue us in?” Jason demands, stepping closer to the screen. “Who the fuck is Big Mouth Howard?”

Bruce continues scowling unfathomably at the screen, and Tim lets out a long exhale. “There's been a lot of activity in the East End this past week,” he says. “You guys have probably noticed.”

“Yeah, bunch of dealers got capped,” Jason confirms, still not understanding why this should matter so much to Batman. “Turf wars. Big fucking deal.”

Tim shakes his head. “Not just dealers. Cy Reynolds was Intergang, they bought out the Dragons’ territory a few months ago and have been pulling in major product from Venezuela. His whole family was taken out, all his lieutenants, all their families.” He pulls up a mug shot of a sneering, overweight man with some serious dental issues. “Big Mouth was one of them.”

“So, you're thinking professional hits.”

“Reynolds had a lot of enemies. Guy dipped his pen in way too many wells. We thought Intergang might've taken him out themselves, because he was something of a liability, but why take out the lieutenants?”

“And the families,” Dick adds, frowning. “Someone wanted to send a message.”

“Exactly. He's gotten on the wrong side of the al Ghuls more than once, and this is their style,” Tim continues, pulling up more detailed shots of the bodies. “That one's Linda Torres. She wasn't even married to Big Mouth, but they still got her.”

“League's got bigger fish to fry,” Jason says dismissively. “They wouldn't bother.”

“Yeah, well, you would know,” Tim replies, raising an eyebrow. “Anyways, we're thinking it's a move against Intergang now, not just Reynolds. I have a couple hunches, but we need to examine the bodies more closely to know for sure.”

“Bruce,” Dick says, “if they're really sending a message, they're gonna be looking for Danielle.”

Tim opens his mouth and shuts it. No one speaks, and, as if on cue, the bundle in Bruce's arms starts wailing again.

Something is squeezing Jason's lungs, making it hard for him to breathe normally. Danielle. The baby has a name, it's a goddamn person and it's – she's – been in this world for three fucking months and she's already got a price on her head. God almighty, what a piece of shit world they live in.

Jason grinds his teeth. “No way she goes back to that orphanage.”

Everyone turns to look at him. He ignores them and steps forward, extending his arms towards Bruce, who slides Danielle over to him without protest.

“Jason – ”

“Forget it, Bruce. I don't know what paragraph of your moral code stipulates that you have to throw a fucking baby to the wolves instead of, oh, I don't know, protect her, but you can shove it up your ass. I'll fucking take her if it's that goddamn important to you. And if anyone comes for her, they die.”

“ – I was going to say, I think she should stay here. For the time being.”

Jason pauses. “Oh.”

“Provided, of course, that someone will be able to look after her. Other than Alfred.”

“I'll stay,” Dick volunteers. Of course he does. Fucking boy scout. “Jason?”

Jason looks down at Danielle, at watery brown eyes and tiny hands, fingers stretching out without knowing what they're reaching for. She yawns and makes a sucking noise, turning her head into his chest.

Damn it.

“We'll do shifts,” he says to Dick, making his tone as businesslike as possible. “I still have shit to do; I can't sit around playing house with you all day.”

Dick doesn't smile, but Jason can see that he wants to. “That sounds reasonable.”

“This is temporary. Just until we find the fuckers that want to take her out.”

“Sure it is.” Dick's all doe-eyed now, watching Danielle settle down to sleep. Idiot. “Welcome home, Jaybird.”

***

#jaydick #reposting this initial chapter from 8 years ago bc the other one's formatting got all screwed up #we are back at it again though #my fics #heartlandverse #forgot to put this in the description but the word count for this chapter is 6000

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