#how the death of the waynes set things in motion

[tinypandabasketballfarm]

ehm...just woke up and did this? Well, basically just 1k of a lead up to confessions. Go get it Eddie!

first thing I wrote and shared in 4 years

Their breaths started to mix. It was slow, measured and most of all careful.

“Stevie,” he breathed out.

“Yeah?” Steve whispered back, his thumb doing the back-and-forth motion on Eddie’s cheek. Eddie fought his inner battle against leaning into the touch. Steve had his face in his hands, gently cupped.

“What is happening?” Eddie didn’t dare to speak above a whisper of a breath. He felt the bubble around them. It was just them here, in this moment, nothing else mattered. His own hands, slightly trembling, ghosting over Steve’s hips. Steve’s forehead touched his, their noses brushing, and Eddie held his breath. Frozen in place he waited.

“I…I’m not sure,” he confessed. He brushed their noses against each other, and Eddie stopped a whine in his throat. He wanted to connect them, but he didn’t dare - fear would not let him. This was too delicate. Their friendship finally had solid ground. He dared to say they became best friends since Eddie was hospitalised. Steve keeping him company in the hospital, keeping Wayne company. The former jock was a constant support throughout the whole recovery, always reliable, always there, always eager to help. Who was Eddie to not appreciate it? Who was Eddie to not find it absolutely heartwarming? Who was Eddie, a gay man in small town Hawkins Indiana, to not find it charming? So yeah, he developed a crush on the reformed King. How could he not, he has eyes, and have you seen Steve? That man is a walking wet dream.

So, this? The closeness, the tender touches? Yeah, Eddie was threading carefully and trying to keep some common sense (the fear helps). He had no intentions of confessing his crush. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if Steve figured out, he’s into men! Eddie thought of hiding it, but then he got to know Robin. During one of their many Party movie nights she came out to him. She told him about the bathroom, about the muppet voice and suddenly Eddie thought to himself “maybe I won’t have to hide.” So, he didn’t. He didn’t flaunt it, of course, he didn’t have a death wish (not anymore at least), but he didn’t stop a comment or a quip if he felt it. He wanted to ease Steve into it. Into the whole idea of Eddie being queer. Bless the The Hair, he took it in stride and never prodded. He wasn’t put out by the flirting, sometimes even flirted back (!), made comments to Eddie’s comments and it all felt weirdly organic. It felt safe. Still, as it had never been said out loud, he could not be sure Steve knew he was gay.

Eddie mulled this over. He couldn’t indulge this without being sure what it meant to him. He took a staggering breath and braced himself. His hands found steady purchase on Steve chest (tiddies!) as he slowly shook his head from side to side, forehead never leaving Steve’s.

“Stevie,” he tried to keep the wobble out of his voice. “I…”

“Yes?” Steve nudged his forehead, lips coming dangerously close to his. Eddie went against the screaming in his head to hold on tight as he took a tentative step back. He focused on his hands placed gingerly on Steve’s chest (tiddies!).

“Steve, I…” he tried again but failed as he locked onto those hazel green eyes. Half lidded, Steve’s eyes were almost glossed over and there was something akin to a need in them. Eddie took in the sight of him, the parted lips, relaxed eyebrows, the way his chest was expanding on deep breaths. A burning fire awoke in him and the need to devour Steve got overwhelming. He was beautiful, borderline ethereal, in the setting sunlight. “What is this, Stevie?” his voice came out hoarse. Steve’s eyes roamed his form and locked onto his lips. Eddie gulped and Steve stared transfixed at his Adam’s apple.

“This…it just…,” Steve appeared to be having a hard time piecing together a sentence. It did nothing to calm the fire inside Eddie. “I need to…,” Steve’s breath came harder then. His eyes clouded over; his left hand went to Eddie’s hair at the nape of his neck holding him firmly. Eddie’s breath hitched as Steve’s right thumb glided over his bottom lip. “Want you.”

The inside fire melted Eddie completely. He went gooey for a moment allowing himself to bask in Steve’s confession, in the pure raw way it tumbled out of his mouth. It must be a dream, Eddie thought to himself, there was no other explanation – it certainly felt like one of his many dreams he had had about the boy with soft hazel eyes.

Steve went to close the distance Eddie had put between them, the hand in Eddie’s hair guiding his head to a position Eddie knew was meant for kissing. He stopped him by putting pressure on Steve’s chest (tiddieeeees). “No,” he stood firmly. Steve halted immediately, his eyes losing the glossed over look. He appeared to sober up, to take in what Eddie said.

“Shit. Sorry, I-I thought-,” he stummered.

“No, Steve, I didn’t mean…,” Eddie huffed. He needed to explain for Steve started to look panicked, which was the last thing Eddie wanted. He took a deep breath and bunched up Steve’s shirt in his hands not allowing him to move away. “I want this too,” he whispered, “but I-,” he let out a sharp breath in frustration. He had no idea how to do this. There was too much at stake and he didn’t want to lose Steve. He looked into those hazel eyes, wrinkles at their corners, eyebrows drawn down to the middle and told himself to be brave. He faced a swarm of demobats and he lived to tell the tail. He thought against interdimensional monsters, he could do this.

“Steve,” he began.

“Yes?” A low chuckle pushed pass Eddie's lips. What a dork.

“I can’t do this without getting feelings mixed with it, strong feelings. This, whatever this is, will mean something big to me. If we do anything I need to know you are in it, fully committed. Not an experiment, not a passing horny thought. I can’t do that. I rather never do anything than knowing what it feels like to have you only to lose it because you change your mind or realize it’s not for you.”

There. He said it. He was brave and Eddie waited with a bated breath. Eyes were scanning Steve’s face, analysing, and overanalysing any and every move of a muscle. Steve opened his mouth then closed it, did it again.

The silence did wanders to calm the fire inside Eddie – he barely feels it. It flickers though. A flicker of fire; a flicker of hope still there.

Steve’s jaw clenched tight, his hands leaving Eddie entirely and he could have cried. His stomach fell through the floor, the flicker went out, his shoulders sank, hands leaving Steve’s chest.

“I’m bisexual. I have had a crush on since you slammed me against the wooden wall of the shed and put the broken bottle to my throat.”

Well, call the firefighters.

[risingchaos]

CONTINGENCY PLAN

-

Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Rating: Teen and Up

Relationship: Dick Grayson & Justice League

Characters: Dick Grayson, Clark Kent, Diana (Wonder Woman), Oliver Queen, Dinah Lance, Barry Allen, J’onn J’onzz (mentioned), Arthur Curry (mentioned)

Additional Tags: Dick Grayson is Batman, Bruce Wayne is not Batman, he’s dead, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Oliver Queen is So Done, Humor, No beta we die like Jason, Not angst or fluff but a secret third thing

Language: English

Words: 1,793

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: After Batman’s death, the League is at a loss on how to proceed. Fortunately, Batman had a plan for that. Unfortunately, he’s bad at letting his co-workers in on his plans.

-

Batman had contingency plans upon contingency plans upon contingency plans. He had safety nets and backups and hidden files. He had a thing in place for every possible scenario that could, would, might, or won’t happen, and he was prepared.

So when they finally found the folder ‘In Case of Death’, they were morbidly relieved.

They were less relieved however, when the only thing in the file was a document saying that a plan would have already gone in motion, and to just trust his plans.

The next twelve days following Batman’s death were some of the hardest in the League. Everyone had handled death before, the team had handled death before, but not this kind. Not this level of loss. One of their founding members, one of their most determined and gritty members, gone overnight. He was the major planner, the one with the ideas and the gadgets and the backups. The brain and reason when no one else was, and he was always willing to take the hit if it meant getting the job done.

He was a friend. He was Bruce, to the most trusted members. He had a rare smile he’d share and a deep laugh you could celebrate if you got it out of him. He was protective and almost motherly, always making sure everyone was okay. Almost always. He helped out and cared and teased. He was loved, and he loved them all back.

It hurt. It hurt everyone.

And most of them didn’t even know his name.

On the thirteenth day after Batman’s death, Oliver came into the building fuming. No mask, no uniform, in a smart suit like he had just come from work. He pushed past Barry and J’onn who tried to stop him and ask questions, and marched right up to the computer. At that point, other members in the common room had directed their attention to it, and were horrified as he opened an email from himself and drew up blurry images and half corrupted videos of Batman. Fighting. In Gotham. Yesterday. The man they had all watched die, breathing and fighting like nothing had happened. Whatever was under the cowl fought like Batman, moved like Batman, had the same gadgets and suit as Batman. On one of the videos, there was a small clip of audio, and it even sounded like Batman.

“It showed up two days ago. I just got news of it while looking through some cameras in the area. I shouldn’t have been able to, Batman always protected the cameras. We couldn’t access them if we tried, and we have tried. Whatever it is, we need to find it.”

Oliver turned, jaw clenched and fists by his sides, to the rest of the JLA.

Clark was pale, staring at the screen. He was listening, trying to find the familiar heartbeat again. Just in case. He didn’t find it.

Diana glanced around at her friends, worried for them specifically.

Dinah’s eyes were set, hard and mad as she watched Oliver. They needed to fix it.

Arthur, contrary to everyone else, just looked defeated. His arms crossed, shoulders sagged, tire written across his face.

Barry shifted back and forth on his feet. He wanted to speed off, to find this guy, to either beat the shit out of him or bring him back for the others to beat the shit out of.

J’onn’s face was set in a line, cool and collected. Only the slight furrow of his brow gave away his feelings.

“We have to go to Gotham.” Clark spoke up, glancing around at his friends. “If he’s the plan Batman talked about, he should know about us. If he’s not, we need to stop him. Can you still access cameras?”

He shook his head, working his jaw a little before speaking. “No. After I pulled these, I tried to find more but it locked me out. Whatever this is wanted me to see, and probably wanted me to show you.”

The group all exchanged looks, glancing between each other. Diana spoke next.

“Let’s go to Gotham.”

______

Barry arrived first. He was supposed to be a lookout, a warning, but when he arrived at the regular place Batman used to meet the League, whoever was parading around as Batman was already waiting. In person he could see the differences between Batman and this imposter. The man in front of him was tanner in complexion, a different chin. Different scowl. He wasn’t as tanky as Bruce had been, more on the leaner side. The armor added bulk the man didn’t have, but it fit like it was made for him. However, to someone who didn’t spend at least one day a week with him for years, who didn’t watch Batman die, this man could pass off as Batman without a problem.

They both stared at each other, Barry’s angry blue eyes staring into the emotionless white covering on the cowl. Before Barry could even open his mouth to comment, to yell or taunt or anything, the imposter raised his hand in faux placating and spoke in a near perfect imitation of Batman’s gruff voice. “Wait for the others. I’ll explain then.”

Within a few minutes of tense silence, before Barry lost it and just started asking questions, the rest of the League arrived. Clark’s eyes widened once he saw the imposter, picking up the heartbeat inside. He was too distracted and lightly horrified by the realization to pick up on his friend’s movement. On Oliver’s movement.

The archer ran up to the imposter the moment he saw him, but no one really knew what his plan was. Or got to see. He was on the ground with a fluid movement from the imposter within seconds. Oliver went from in front of “Batman”, moving at near inhuman speeds, to thrown on to the grimy Gotham floor. “Batman” was on him in an instant, pinning him to the asphalt. One hand and a knee restricted Oliver’s arms, the other hand steading them on the ground and using the weight of his other leg and body to keep the rest of Oliver in line.

“Calm do-“

“Who are you?? What are you?? What did you-“

“Take a br-“

“You fucking-“

“Arrow-“

“Coward!”

“Oliver!”

The imposter hissed the archer’s name, low enough that only the man below him and those with superhearing could understand. It stilled the man in green and drew a collective breath from those who heard, Oliver’s chest heaving and eyes wide behind his domino mask. Shit.

“If I let you go, will you attack me again, or will you let me explain before trying to kill me again?” The gruff tone was back. When Oliver didn’t respond instantly, the imposter tightened his hold and pressed his knee a little harder into Oliver’s arm. That got a gasped ‘fine’ and “Batman” got off of him.

He turned to everyone else, giving a sweeping glare (they somehow knew) as Oliver got up and grumbled to himself about ‘damn bats’.

“Zeta back to the Hall. I’ll meet you there and explain.” He paused, deciding on if to give any kind of explanation. “Too many ears.” He gestured around vaguely before doing the incredibly bat-like thing of zipping away and disappearing before anyone could ask a question.

______

As expected, “Batman” was already waiting for them when they got back. He stood by the computer, tapping away. He was pulling up some kind of files from a flash drive, not even glancing over when the Zeta announced them. Instead, he got right into it.

“I’m the contingency plan Batman mentioned in his ‘In Case of Death’ folder. Of course he didn’t specify what, because why would he..” The man trailed off, sighing as he turned to the rest of the League. The gruff imitation was gone, replaced by an upbeat Gothamite accent and a lighter tone. “When we got the news he had- died, we gave ourselves some time to grieve before I put on the suit. It’s not easy losing a family member, as I’m sure you’ve all felt the last week and a half. Almost two weeks.”

He finally turned to face everyone, checking all their faces before continuing on. He took a small breather, reached up, and pulled down the cowl. The domino underneath remained firmly planted on his face, but the few who knew him drew in a sharp breath.

“I’m Nightwing. Batman’s.. Son. I was the first Robin, if any of you remember me like that.”

He gave a tentative smile and little jazz hands, as if to say ‘surprise’.

“Jesus Christ.”

Oliver shook his head, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Nightwing? Really? I got my ass pinned by you?”

Dick just gave a wide smile back, very pleased with himself. “I learned it from Batman. And Arsenal. Both liked making sure I could pin someone bigger than me. The armor helped, adds weight.” He shrugged his shoulders to show. “A lot bulkier than I’m used to, but this was the plan. In Case of Death. When his vitals went down, A alerted me. The next confirmation came from you guys opening the folder.” He pointed a thumb back at the screen. “I can show you guys proof this really was the plan, or you can just believe me. I’m not here to take Batman’s spot. I’ve denied being in the League before, I’ve got too much on my plate with Blüdhaven, my day job, my personal life, and now Gotham and Batman and all the shit with my family. I’m dealing with the loss of him in our lives, but we can’t let Gotham underground know Batman’s-, dead.”

Dick’s facade didn’t drop, not truly, but the smile dimmed a little. It would seem natural to anyone else, just the way a smile ran its course, if not for the fact that this group was trained to find things like that.

“I’m doing rounds as Batman back in Gotham. Give me a call if you guys have a League thing, need Batman there. Promise I can be useful.” He patted the console twice, reached back to pull on the cowl, and hesitated. His smile fixed itself, more cheeky this time.

“I am one hell of a tactician. My dad says so.”

He fixed the cowl back on, dropping the smile properly once he did. It was a little unnerving, how fast the switch happened.

The League watched as Batman, Nightwing, exited the room and soon enough they heard the Zeta whir to life. Nobody spoke for a minute, just letting the information sink in.

Barry spoke first.

“Nightwing, huh?”

He turned, looking at the door they had just watched the man leave through.

“I’ve heard good things.”

[tending-the-hearth]

why "the outsiders" is one of the best shows i've ever seen

i loved every second of this show, so here's all my favorite parts!!

ALSO Trevor Wayne (u/s Ponyboy) was on for my show, and it was his Broadway debut, so that mixed with this only being their fourth official show after debuting on Broadway this past Thursday (they've been in previews for a few weeks) made for SUCH a good show atmosphere, the vibes were immaculate, and Trevor was a phenomenal Ponyboy.

Also, I got to stagedoor, and the cast was SO incredibly kind!!! I love stagedoors when the cast is just made up of the nicest group of people ever

(i'd love to discuss specific things from the show, so if you're curious, send me an ask!!)

***spoilers for the broadway show if anyone cares***

Act 1

the COSTUMES OHHH MY GOD

and the set is so cool???

the fight choreo is something i could talk about forever and ever

in general, the music has a very folk/country vibe to it, which fits SO well since it takes place in oklahoma!!

"grease got a hold" was so fun, i loved the idea that you become an official greaser after getting through your first fight with the socs

the show in general is such a good balance of quotes directly from the book and original lines!

i love that they made Dally another big brother figure to Ponyboy, because it just adds so much to the tension between Darry and Ponyboy

additionally, making Dally the leader of the gang while Darry's trying to stay away from that world... such a good change

Johnny and Pony are the best friends ever omg

Ace my beloved 😭😭 i'm usually hesitant about new characters being added but i love her so much

i was afraid they'd make her like an Anybodys copy, but she was SUCH a good fit within the group, and her relationships and interactions with them all felt so natural

btw she and Steve are siblings that is my hc they're brother and sister your honor!!!

and Two-Bit!!! Beloved!!! Daryl Tofa you are THE Two-Bit ever!!!

Two-Bit and Ace are best friends btw

"Great Expectations" had the stage completely blacked out except for spotlights on each of the outsiders gang when i tell you i was emotional

MY THEORY IS CONFIRMED OF THE CURTIS PARENTS DYING WHILE GETTING STUFF FOR DARRY'S BIRTHDAY I'M HAPPY BUT IN PAIN

Having Johnny present for the scene when Darry slaps Ponyboy is such a smart decision, especially since he's the one who grabs Ponyboy and gets them out of the house

Johnny and Pony duet 😭😭 they're platonic soulmates fr

Having the silhouettes of Soda and Darry during Johnny and Pony's duet, and Darry just sitting so defeated on the floor hurt me ngl

There were effects when Ponyboy was being drowned where it was like we were underwater as well, and everyone else was just moving silently. SO well done

the scene where Johnny stabs Bob was insane- there were blackouts, and people were moving in slow motion, and it was so perfectly overwhelming

God, the entire ending sequence was incredibly with the set pieces!! and in general, the effects were so good

also Dally is such an overprotective brother to BOTH Johnny and Pony

Act 2

The harmonies in this show. This is such a strong ensemble cast, and they're so powerful during the group numbers

"Death's at my Door" made me fucking sob????? Johnny and Pony being each other's reason to live??? Them staying alive just to make sure the other is safe???

Have I mentioned how much I love that Dally sees Pony and Johnny as his little brothers?? Because I love it so so much

Darry and Dally's arguments, and Dally making good points on why he's close with Ponyboy hurt SO much because Darry's trying his best

Ohhhh Darry is speaking to my soul he really is the parentified older sibling ever

But also "Throwing in the Towel" being similar to "Death's at my Door", with Sodapop begging Darry not to give up, because he loves him, and recognizes what he does for them??? And Ponyboy joining in at the end from the church??

Dally immediately hugging Ponyboy and Johnny when they reunite at the church 😭

"Soda's Letter" made me cry violently but that's nothing new

"Hoods turned Heroes" was actually so cute, the greasers were so excited and proud of Pony and Johnny

but the tonal shift at the end when Dally carried Johnny in all bandaged up??

a little miffed we didn't see the Curtis brothers reuniting ngl, but that's the only thing i wish they added in

THE FUCKING RUMBLE WAS SO GOOD HOLY SHIT

Darry asking Ponyboy if he can fight for him 😭😭😭 he loves his brother so much

THE CHOREO AND THE RAIN ON STAGE OH MY GOD

And Ponyboy fights until Johnny comes on stage and stands in front of him, and everything just freezes 😭

I do love how all the greasers were present for JOhnny's death, because it just solidifies how they're a family

Joshua Boone as Dally destroyed me. He perfectly showed how Johnny was Dally's entire world

and GOD them changing Dally's death to suicide by straight up stepping onto the train tracks and getting hit by a train was...

Just how empty and lost Ponyboy was after everyone died, and how desperate Soda and Darry were to get him to at least eat something, they portrayed that grief and trauma so well

"Stay Gold" 😭😭😭😭😭

Literally could not stop sobbing during that song, everyone around me was crying

There was such a perfect balance between Pony's narration and the show itself, and there were moments where he broke the fourth wall, mainly by looking at Soda and Johnny during their letters, and it just made for such an emotional impact

Darry asking to read Pony's story 😭😭 showing his support, and Pony being absolutely shocked but so happy 😭😭

also when Darry and Pony tell each other they love each other 😭😭 sobbing violently i love familial reconciliation

I was just an emotional wreck the entire finale, it was so beautiful

and the implication that instead of writing an essay, Ponyboy wrote "The Outsiders" in-universe 😭😭

[detachedfacade]

it took eddie a long time to make a move. stevie had all but given up. she hadn't necessarily expected him to, but there were moments, lingered touches, flirtation, that felt meaningful. but eddie never really took it the extra step.

stevie didn't realise the over confidence eddie had while flirting was a front. it was only when, while getting high, sitting by her parents pool, that eddie revealed he had been a virgin until he was 20. only a couple of sad handjobs given and received was his sexual experience prior to meeting stevie. "that near death experience really sets a fire beneath you though" eddie had said, had figured if he wanted to not die a virgin he ought to make a move. so he'd gone to the gay bar he frequented a week after the accident and finally went through with it. "and honestly," he said, "I haven't since. not that I didn't like it, I meant I'm sure it will be better with someone I actually like it's just...I still kind of feel like a virgin. like I don't know what I'm doing and I'm scared people will see through that."

stevie couldn't relate, she had more experience than most people she knew, with both men and women. so she knew what she was doing. though, it was definitely the drugs influence that led her to reach out her hand to eddie and say. "i could help you practice."

it seemed after the first step was taken, everything else fell into place. suddenly the weight between them lifted and they could admit, aloud, that they had had crushes on one another. and for how long. "since I met you, honestly. " eddie said.

"did it change? when I..."

"oh my god stevie, yes. since you transitioned it fucking tripled if not more I...I didn't really realise I could like you more but jesus christ you proved me wrong."

stevie was blushing. "that was ...the right thing to say." she said. "I am a bit...or I was a bit scared that since you were gay it wouldn't ever go anywhere..."

eddie shifted in bed. "yeah. I mean I had crushes on girls too, sometimes. I mean debbie harry? c'mon, i'm only human. like robin said, sexuality is fluid."

"robin told you about that conversation?"

"she did, but only after we started...whatever this is." eddie motioned between himself and stevie.

"whatever this is?" stevie replied. "what do you want it to be?"

It was eddie's turn to blush now. "I think I'd like for you to be my girlfriend, stevie."

It became quickly obvious to eddie that whenever her parents were home, stevie would do her best to stay out longer. she would suggest diners and nightclubs and long drives until eddie would say "baby, let's just go back to mine."

of course it wasn't always convenient, wayne being there most nights. but as stevie said, she was 'like a ninja' and could totally sneak in unheard. eddie couldn't stop laughing at the sight of her scrambling up the side of the trailer, his figurines clattering across the floor as she pushed her way into the window. their shared laughter at the moment was made even worse when Wayne knocked and told them to use the door next time.

and so she did. but she insisted, said if wayne was going to know she was there, shouldn't they meet properly? so eddie set a date, and he cooked wayne's favourite dinner, and he let stevie in when she knocked on the front door this time, snuck a kiss before wayne would notice. and wayne said "nice to properly meet you stevie." before taking his seat at the head of the table.

from then she was always round, wayne was always happy to see her, and though he admitted he was still learning 'all this stuff' he never misgendered her.

even when stevies father finally came round, he would still repeatedly dead name her, but wayne, wayne never did. not once. srevie even overheard him, smoking outside with her father, defending her. telling her father, "you ought to get your head screwed on and protect your daughter with everything you have because god knows it isn't going to be easy. and you say you love her, you say you only want her to be happy but don't you see? she is happy." and her father never admitted defeat, but stevie found herself on the receiving end of some stilted affection from then on, and she felt that maybe it wouldn't be all bad going home. eventually.

but by that point, she and eddie had already planned to move in together. It was bound to happen sooner or later. three people couldn't fit into that tiny trailer.

so they got a place on the outskirts of the city, far enough away to start fresh but close enough to visit their loved ones without much hassle. and for a long time Stevie hadn't imagined a part in her life that she would leave hawkins and have any intention of returning, but then robin happened, and eddie happened, and wayne happened and her father looked her in the eye and said "I always wanted a daughter. you make sure you call, okay stevie?" and having something to return for felt so fucking nice.

but the new life in the city was even fucking nicer. no one around to dead name her or ask invasive questions. only herself and eddie finding their feet in a city that didn't know them, and would accept them for who they were. and if it didn't, they would always have love to return to in their shared apartment, in their shared bed, in their shared life. because even if the world was uncertain and scary, everyone could see, stevie and eddie were soul mates.

check out the full collection of stevie drabbles on ao3

[sodaabaa]

little fox, part two

bruce wayne x OC maia agrees to help bruce. the two of them find that they have more in common than they'd expect.

tw: mentions of familial deaths, grief

masterlist

playlist

As promised, at exactly 7 pm, a sleek, black Bentley arrived outside Maia's apartment in the southernmost part of downtown Gotham. She marveled at the car, rarely did Maia ever drive to work, preferring the subway because of the crazy city traffic. Outside of her job, she was a homebody so she had little need for a car. Regardless, her uncle insisted she have one ‘just in case,’ so they compromised on a used Toyota that now sat on the side of the street, collecting dust. 

A man who looked to be in his seventies stepped out. His polished outfit consisted of well fitting black suit and a pair of black leather gloves. 

“Ms. Fox?” He said in a thick British accent. “That’d be me,” She replied awkwardly, giving the man a little wave.

“Alfred, pleasure to make your acquaintance Ms. Fox,” He went around to where she stood on the opposite side of the car and opened the door for her.

“Shall we?” He asked, motioning a hand to the car.

She nodded, entering the car and once again, marveling at the interior that was just as luxurious as the exterior had been. Beige seats made from the softest leather, tortoise-shell trim accented the sides – she could get used to this. 

“Master Wayne tells me you’re Lucius’ niece?” Alfred said as he himself entered the car and took off.

“I am, how do you know Luc?” She asked. He’d never mentioned any British friends to her.

“Work,” He said with a knowing smile.

“So you’re in on this whole thing too, huh?” “Indeed I am, Miss.”

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence as they passed through Gotham. She’d never been past the city limits and it seemed that she was in for quite a drive tonight. Bustling streets and towering skyscrapers faded away as they continued into the outskirts of the city.

“Does this even count as Gotham City anymore?” “Partially, there aren’t many residents in the Palisades – they’re still part of the greater Gotham County area though,” He replied. 

She peered out the window, taking in the green landscape she seldom got to see living inside the city. In the distance, she saw what could only be described as a castle (at least in her eyes). Before she could say anything about the building, everything went dark as they entered an underground tunnel. 

“What –” “A secret entrance, Miss. We’re almost there.” 

Secret entrance. That’s a bit dramatic, she thought. “Was that Wayne Manor in the distance?” “Indeed, it was.” 

“He lives there – all alone?” “If you don’t count the staff and me, yes.” 

She hummed in reply, how lonely must it be? Everyone in Gotham knew the tragic tale of the Waynes, carelessly murdered in a mugging right in front of an eight year old Bruce. She stiffened, trying not to recall the memory of hearing about her own parents' death. She did her best to block the memory, the pain. Luckily, their drive came to an abrupt stop, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“We’ve arrived,” Alfred said as he stepped out of the car and walked over to Maia’s side, opening the door for her.

She stepped out into an actual cave. The distant sound of rushing water filled the air. 

As they made their way further inside, she got a closer look at the dimly-lit cave, there was little furnishing the area, only a large black box that sat in the middle of the cave, guard rails on all four sides. Above it hung a simple lightbeam. The box was connected to the driveway they’d just entered through by a narrow, rusty metal bridge. She peered over the sides, a shallow pool of water underneath them. 

Maia scoffed, “He wasn’t kidding when he said batcave.” “No I’m afraid he was not,” Alfred ushered them over the bridge and towards an impressive set up. “Right this way you’ll find we’ve hopefully equipped you with what you’ll need.” Multiple wide monitors sat atop a large metal desk. She took a seat, the monitor coming to life before her. She looked up at Alfred who stared at her expectantly. 

“Um, I think I can take it from here,” She said nervously. 

“Right then, I’ll see to some refreshments,” He chuckled and left her to get started.

She looked around the cave, her leg bouncing up and down rapidly, suddenly wishing Alfred hadn’t left. Was Bruce coming here tonight? Maybe he was giving her some space to do what she needed to do but she felt uneasy regardless. She was casually sitting in the middle of Batman’s lair. This was definitely above her paygrade, Wayne Enterprise employee or not.

Doubt weaseled itself into Maia's mind. What if she couldn’t track Entropy down? She was no stranger to self-doubt. Going to MIT, majoring in a male-dominated field -- she constantly felt as though she didn't belong, like she wasn't as good as her peers. But she pushed through, for the sake of her parents; to make them proud.

She stared at the screen as she cracked her knuckles and sighed, “Here goes nothing.”

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

Bruce rolled his shoulder as he walked into the cave. He’d spent the night taking down a drug trafficking ring, which was an easy task for the most part except for the dozens of men armed with a myriad of weapons – including steel baseball bats. He’d taken one too many hits, the effects of which were finally settling and resulting in a battered and bruised shoulder.

He paused when he heard murmuring. It was almost midnight. He crossed the bridge and saw Maia, her head resting against her crossed arms atop the desk. Her eyes were closed but her brows were furrowed as she spoke unintelligible words. 

He laid a hand on her back, trying his best not to startle her. 

“Maia,” He whispered. He patted her gently when his whispers didn't wake her up.

She jolted awake, clearly disoriented by her whereabouts. When realization dawned on her, she looked up.

“Oh!” She stumbled up but caught herself on the desk before she could fall.

“It’s alright, how long have you been down here – where’s Alfred?” He said, hands reaching out to steady her.

She rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand, “He, um,” she paused, “He came down a few hours ago to check on my progress."

Bruce nodded, "Have you found anything?"

"They’re good. I wasn’t able to track them down quite yet but I did compile a list of their victims so far and I managed to run it through a pattern recognition system to find connections between them.” “And what did you find?” He asked.

“At first it looked like there wasn’t much aside from their affluent backgrounds and their jobs but then,” She turned to the screen, leaning down to pull up what she found. She pulled up a map showing the homes of each victim. Each address connected to to create a spiral. But it wasn’t just any spiral…

“The Fibonacci spiral?” 

She nodded, turning to look up at Bruce, “and I know who their next target is.” 

Maia pointed to where the next part of the sequence would be. Wayne Tower. 

“They don’t seem to be interested in money since there wasn’t any money taken from any of the other victims. Each victim has been a member of some public entity – City Hall, the police department, even the Gotham District Court.” 

“Wayne Enterprises isn’t a public institution–” Before Bruce could finish, Maia cut in.

“But it funds every level – You provide thousands of dollars in donations to the police department, the District Attorney’s office, and you funded Mayor Loeb’s reelection campaign. I think their ultimate goal is to turn people against the Wayne name and everything it controls – it makes sense from their perspective, your family has a monopoly over this city.” A muscle in Bruce’s jaw ticked as he processed the information. The Waynes certainly had their fair share of rivals and misanthropists – it would take Bruce a considerable amount of time to figure out who’d feel strongly enough against him to go to these lengths. But what was the significance of the Fibonacci sequence? As if Maia had heard his thoughts, she spoke up.

"I was confused about what the sequence meant -- how it related to their cause but then I realized, Entropy is a gradual decline into disorder. The Fibonacci Sequence represents harmony and balance. What if they're trying to restore balance to Gotham by causing chaos, targeting the rich who they believe control the public institutions to spark a revolution?" "Creating chaos and darkness before the dawn," Bruce said.

"A dawn, they no doubt would be in control of," Maia finished.

Bruce ran a hand through his disheveled hair with a sigh. They want Gotham to descend into anarchy -- as if it weren't bad enough as it is.

His gaze returned to Maia, who looked like she wanted to say something more.

“Is there anything else I should know?”

She looked up at him sheepishly, “Since we know who the next target might be – I set up a honeypot.” “A honeypot?” Bruce questioned. 

“Essentially a trap – a replica of your personal computer systems linked to your Wayne Enterprise accounts. It’ll hopefully lure them in and when it does, it’ll send me an alert.” “Is there something wrong?” She hesitated. He raised his brows in anticipation.

“If the honeypot fails, they’ll know we were onto them. It might spook them…or it’ll anger them. There’s no telling what they’d do out of anger.” Bruce nodded slowly, “So this better work then?”

“Yup,” She said, popping the ‘p.’

Bruce huffed a laugh, “I’m putting my company’s fate in your hands Ms. Fox.”

“It was your choice – not mine, Mr. Wayne.” 

He held her gaze for a moment, admiring her intelligence and intellect. She had stayed here, working tirelessly all night to help him. She managed to figure out the group's agenda and set up a trap -- all in the span of a few hours.

She cleared her throat, snapping the two of them out of their trance. 

“It’s getting late – I’ll have Alfred set up a room for you. Have you eaten yet?” Bruce asked.

“Oh, no I can head home – I’ll call a taxi or something.” Bruce waved a hand, “Not a chance. A taxi in the middle of the night in Gotham?” 

She sighed, reluctant to accept his offer but she gave in. Gotham in the daytime was bustling and full of life but nightfall brought out the worst the city had to offer -- Bruce would be damned if he let her go out there this late.

The two of them made their way up to the manor and caught up with Alfred, filling him in on the details before he went off to prepare a midnight snack. 

Bruce rested back on a plush sofa in one of the manor’s parlors that made for the perfect late night lounging spot. Bruce himself often came here to rest in between patrols. Maia sat across from him, her eyes making their way around the room. She stopped on the painting to the right of them above the marble fireplace.

“Your parents?” She said softly.

Bruce nodded. 

“What were they like?” He drew in a breath.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that,” She quickly added.

He exhaled, “No it's alright."

He thought for a moment, trying to string together some words that would do his parents justice.

"My father was a doctor – often being the one to clean my scrapes and cuts from playing outside,” He paused, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile, “He was a healer. The kind of person you'd run to for help, certain that he'd always have the right words to say, the perfect remedy to prescribe to make you feel good as new.” 

She nodded, a knowing smile on her face. No doubt she was thinking of her own parents. Bruce wasn’t sure if he should bring it up. He opted to play it safe and stay away from the topic.

Another time, he thought.

"What about your mother?" She asked.

He let out a breathy laugh, “As a kid, I always thought my mother was a queen. She had this regal air to her, always dressed to the nines. But it was her grace and kindness that made her beloved to the people.”

Before he could continue, Alfred came in carrying a tray with an assortment of snacks; fruits, a variety of cheeses, crackers, and cold-cut meats. Grateful for the interruption, Bruce leaned forward to help himself, wincing at the ache in his shoulder.

“Oh, Alfred this is too much,” Maia said.

“Speak for yourself, I need the calories,” He replied in between bites.

Maia laughed, taking a slice of watermelon onto her plate.

“A room’s been prepared for you in the guest wing, Ms. Fox.” "Thank you," She said, looking between the two of them.

Alfred nodded, leaving the two of them be. They ate in comfortable silence.

As Bruce reached forward to place his plate down on the table between them, he hissed in pain and grabbed his shoulder.

"That's the second time you've winced in pain, let me take a look," Maia placed her own plate down and walked over to Bruce before he could protest.

She pressed gently on his shoulder, feeling for dislocated bones or swelling.

"It doesn't feel like anything's misplaced or swollen. Here, let me help you out of your suit so we can see what it looks like underneath." She helped him out of his batsuit, a difficult task to manage since he could barely lift his left shoulder. He sat in front of her, torso fully bare. Bruce suddenly felt too vulnerable -- every scar and bruise fully exposed under the warm lights of the parlor. Bruce watched her wince as she took in his battered skin, running her feather-soft fingertips over the newly formed bruises on his shoulder.

"Alfred!" She called out.

Almost instantly, footsteps could be heard from the hall.

"Is something wrong --" He paused when he saw Bruce's bare chest, "Oh! Master Wayne. Why on earth didn't you say something earlier! I'll fetch some ice."

He left as fast as he arrived.

"I'm alright, really," He said, returning his attention back to Maia.

"You need ice. And rest. And maybe a hospital -- how have you survived all these years?" She rambled, her hands trailed over the scars across the top of his chest. He tried not to shiver under her touch.

"Alfred does a pretty good job at patching me up," He replied.

"I'm serious," Her eyes shone with concern.

He took her hands in his and looked up at her, "I'm fine. I swear."

He held her gaze, both of them unable to look away. Caught in a trance for a second time that night. There was something about her that hypnotized Bruce. Her brown eyes flitted between his, their breaths syncing with each other.

"How hard is it to refill the bloody ice. I swear I'm going to fire somebody one of these days--" Alfred muttered as he returned, snapping them out of their trance.

Bruce inhaled, sitting back, putting some distance between Maia and him. She did the same, stepping back and stumbling into the coffee table behind her.

"No ice but I managed to dig up some packets of peas from the back of the freezer," Alfred said, handing it to Maia.

"Thanks, Alfred. This'll do," Maia replied. She placed the pack gently on Bruce's bruised skin. He sucked in a breath through his teeth as the ice assaulted his sensitive skin.

Maia winced, "Sorry." "It's not a problem," He waved off and took the pack from her. She took the opportunity to sit on the edge of the coffee table in front of Bruce, the look of concern still plastered across her face.

"It's late, you should get some sleep." "Are you gonna be okay? I can stay up and help if--" "I'll be fine, I've handled much worse than a few bruises. I'll have Alfred carry me bridal style if it makes you feel better," He laughed, trying to put her worries at bay.

She smiled, amused at the image he painted. Bruce's gaze lingered on her lips, the lack of sleep and the events of the night must have been getting to him.

She cleared her throat and stood up, "Good night then, Mr. Wayne."

He bid her a good night, leaning back on the sofa with a sigh as he watched her leave the parlor. He shut his eyes to get some rest himself but his mind replayed everything that had passed between him and Maia that night. Mesmerized, even by the memory of her.

[madaboutmunson]

The King of Wands

Word count: 3.3K (One Shot)

Summary: A short imagine about what things would be like for Steve after the events of Season 4

Warnings: angst, violence, arguing, crying, death, injury

Author notes: This is my first Steve fic, so I hope I did ok

Steve was at that unnaturally thin part of the knife edge of his thoughts where thoughts might become actions. Where a maybe becomes a yes.

Alone in the dark of his RV living room, he sighs deeply. The TV is blaring about something Steve zoned out of well over an hour ago. The whole purpose of switching it on was defeated because his memories were much louder than it could ever be.

He thinks about the decline of the group over the last few months.

Well, the decline of one, in particular, that ultimately was the glue between them all.

His one ankle propped up on his knee, as his eyes unfocussed, stared into nothing. His thumb and index finger alternate tapping on the side of his sneaker.

The one time. THE ONE TIME. He rages in his mind. The one time Dustin was partnered up with someone else, it had all gone to shit in more ways than he had initially thought.

Dustin shouldn't have been there. Robin should have stayed with Eddie. He and Nance should have gone to that house. Dustin should have been with Lucas, Max, and Erica.

Then maybe Eddie wouldn't have played hero, and maybe Jason wouldn't have gotten the jump on Lucas. Perhaps they'd both still be here.

Like Eddie said on that boat, "You tryin' to sink us," and that's precisely what had happened. Not through any fault of Dustin's own, just that his presence in those events set things in motion that could not be stopped. Steve didn't blame Dustin. He blamed himself.

What is a kid to do when his hero dies in his arms? Do you expect him to brush it off and return to how things were? Mostly everyone else around the group seeing Eddie as a murderous satanic cult leader had not helped with Dustin's decent into...well...someone else. His protests were vocal at first, defending Eddie's honour, his legacy, but it wasn't enough to keep their spiteful words at bay, and soon Dustin was cutting people out of his life as easily as brushing dust from his shoulder. Not even Suzie survived that cull.

One bad word against Eddie, got you that look. The one that if it could kill you where you stood, it would, in a fiery blaze of Dustin's silent wild rage.

Steve could see it happening, and it was slow and discrete, but people were so caught up in other things. Max's recovery, the apocalypse, their future. Some even dared to be distracted by love interests and college, but not Steve.

All he could see was that happy, bossy, wonderful kid folding in on himself. Over and over until the folding was so small, it was a speck of who he was. His eyes, which once sparkled with possibility, now dulled with pain and frustration. The colourful wardrobe, or his unashamed interests and personality, slowly morphed into a collection of mourning clothes.

Dustin had taken a leaf out of Steve and Nancy's book how they visited Barb's family after what happened. Dustin visited Wayne whenever he could, so they could reminisce about Eddie. So they could keep Eddie alive by not forgetting him, telling stories, looking through his old belongings and photographs, and imagining what he might say to them now.

In almost no time at all, Wayne started bestowing little Eddie things on Dustin. A book that Wayne was never going to read that Dustin could escape into. An album that gave Wayne a headache, but Dustin could let his anger out to. A t-shirt that Wayne couldn't give to the drive because of the "troubling" graphics that Dustin couldn't wait to encapsulate himself in.

Wayne was only trying to please them both, to keep Eddie alive, and Dustin was always happiest after their visits, but Dustin's room, appearance, and personality were becoming a shrine to a dead man.

Steve knew as obnoxious as Eddie could be, he wouldn't have wanted this for Dustin. Eddie wanted Dustin always to be Dustin. Eddie would never have cursed any of the kids he cared about with the weight of being Eddie.

When it was just the two of them, sometimes Steve got a glimpse of the real Dustin, caring, smart, lovable, and funny, but mostly he got one of two new versions.

Broken Dustin. The one who would tell Steve about his vivid nightmares or middle-of-the-day flashbacks. The one that quoted Eddie's last words like they were his new creed. "Look after those little sheep for me. Promise me". Dustin had sobbed and pounded his fists against Steve's chest as he held him tightly in his arms until he was exhausted, more times than Steve cared to remember.

Cold Dustin. Devoid of humanity and patience. In the best-case scenario, he might lock himself away for a few days, ignore phone calls, and not turn up where he said he would be. He holed up in his room listening to static, drawing maps of nowhere, getting way too high, or passing out drunk. In the worst case, he'd lash out at anyone and everything. He is cruel to his friends and Mom, belittling or berating them. Screaming in their faces, physically threatening them because he didn't have anywhere to put all that anger.

The only blows he ever landed were on the new local bully to contend with. He'd made the mistake of saying the wrong thing on the wrong day to a member of Hellfire. On a good day, Dustin would have taken him down with a quip, an obnoxious insult, but this wasn't a good day. This guy got taken down by a chair to the face. Then as Mike detailed, the guy made the mistake of uttering Eddie's name. Apparently, Dustin didn't even wait to hear the rest of the insult before he was on this guy. He was playing amateur dentist by repeatedly hitting him in the face with a tray and, when that snapped, his fists.

Steve had stood in that office with Mrs. Henderson, looking at the bruised and swollen mess that was Dustin after the bully's cavalry had finally intervened. Steve wasn't even listening to whatever the principal had to say; it wasn't his concern. He had to fix this, but he didn't know how.

Eddie's last words were a source of love and hate for Steve. They were words that sometimes forced the true Dustin out, made him compassionate, caring for others, making people laugh, telling people he loved them often because he never wanted the first time he said it to you to be the last time. But they were also words that put the world's weight on Dustin and made him furious that Eddie had died a hero, and the only person that knew that was him.

Steve wasn't sure what to do, so he focused on what he couldn't do and worked from there. He couldn't bring Eddie back to life for Dustin. He couldn't make Dustin forget about Eddie. He couldn't convince Dustin that Eddie wouldn't want this. He couldn't turn back time and drag Eddie's corpse back with them because Steve rightly chose the living, breathing Dustin, and they were running for their lives.

Steve will never forget how his name rang across that twisted trailer park. A guttural plea from Dustin for the impossible, all wrapped up in "Steve."

He'd run towards the sound forgetting altogether about Nancy and Robin. They could make their own way.

He had to get to Dustin.

The place shook around him. Things were crumbling and cracking. He didn't know how much time he had. He didn't know what might come for them next. Vecna's body was missing.

He just knew he had to get to Dustin.

Steve had never run that fast in his life. The pain seared through his body, but he pushed passed it.

"Steve. Please!!" a sobbing, desperate cry for help that Steve would answer or die trying.

Then the scene opened up in front of him. He hadn't meant to stop running, but the visual stopped him in his tracks.

A mass of dead monstrosities encircled a shuddering heap on the ground. He was too late. Steve shut his eyes for a second and pinched his nose before running his hand down his face. Now was not the time for tears, Harrington.

He resumed his run, "Dustin!" he shouted, but there was no acknowledgment.

A few steps away from the increasing in detail scene before him. Dustin's face finally looked up at him. His eyes were almost swollen shut from crying, his little hands gripped onto Eddie, his knuckles white, and painfully Steve noticed one of Eddie's hands on Dustin, but it wasn't holding on tight. It had fallen. Lifeless.

Steve locks eyes with Dustin and crouches down to his level.

"Steve, please" this time, it's a quiet but no less desperate plea, as Dustin's fists grip so tightly onto Eddie's clothing that he almost lifts him off the ground, offering him up to Steve.

Steve wanted to say he didn't have time, that it was pointless, but he couldn't. He couldn't not try. Steve frantically recalled his first aid training from lifeguarding. He quickly held Eddie's face in his hands, his skin cold and pallid. Steve remembers looking into those dull eyes that not hours ago had been sparkling with hope. Steve goes through the motions of CPR, but he knows it's entirely in vain.

Munson, you idiot, I told you don't be a hero.

"Come on, Eddie. Please," Dustin sobbed, his hands clasped around one of Eddie's hands.

Steve kept trying until another rumble shook the ground. His hands move from Eddie to Dustin's shoulders, pushing him backward, forcing their eyes to meet.

"We have to go now, Dustin. Let's all get out of here, ok?" Steve lifted Eddie to a sitting position, both he and Dustin still crouched down, an arm each around Eddie's back, and draped one of Eddie's arms around them, "Ok, on three. Ready? 1, 2, 3!"

On the three, Steve felt the enormous weight of a body that could not support itself. He felt like it was impossible Eddie could have weighed anything close to this. Then he heard a crunch and a piercing yelp from Dustin as he fell to the ground. A lifeless Eddie threatened to follow, but Steve just about managed to grab him in time, quickly lowering him to the floor and moving to check over Dustin's leg.

Another rumble shook the ground, and Steve locked eyes with Dustin and frantically tried to hoist him up from the floor, but there was resistance.

"No, no, no!! Steve!!" Dustin yelled out, "We can't leave him!!"

Steve didn't respond with any words. He used all his might to tear Dustin away from Eddie by lifting him off the floor almost over his shoulder. There was an audible snap of something, but Steve did not look back. Dustin screams for Eddie ripped through the upside down and painfully into Steve's ear and heart.

Steve's brain shut it out. It was the only way he could keep it together. All he heard for a while was his own breathing, his own pulse, and his feet pounding the floor to get back home.

He didn't have time to think about how this decision might come back to haunt him over and over, but he had no choice.

He had to save Dustin.

Steve's eyes return to focus on his current surroundings, casting his eyes down to the dirty, worn carpet. Barely keeping it together in places as the threads clung to one another in a last-ditch attempt to remain a floor covering.

He gets up, turns the tv up louder, grabs a mug from the cupboard, and pours maybe the eighth coffee today. He doesn't know. He doesn't count anymore. He has as many as he needs to keep going.

Steve feels a sting of pain in his throat and his sides. It's psychosomatic, he told himself, just before the second wave of burning pain. He thumps the cupboard overhead hard and keeps back any noises his body wants to emit. He's not trying to be quiet. He just doesn't want them to win. Pretend it's not happening. But it gets what it wants.

His mind sends him back to a relatively safe place in Hawkins. He's sitting at Dustin's bedside. Dustin will not look at him. Steve was pretty sure he had only got in here because he turned up with everyone else to visit, but he outstayed them all.

He reaches his hand out to Dustin's arm, and it's pulled out of his reach sharply. Steve remembers taking a deep breath, one to push his tears back, but two so he doesn't lose his temper.

Steve understood why Dustin was mad, but Dustin couldn't understand that it was the only choice Steve could make.

"Dustin, come on, man. I know you're pissed at me. I get it. I do." Steve tried gently. He wanted Dustin back on his side, but more than anything, he wanted Dustin to stop beating himself up about it.

Dustin folded his arms, his eyes glancing at the ceiling, still avoiding Steve, "You don't get it. You don't know what it feels not to be strong enough. If I could have held him up, we could have got him home, Steve. Maybe Nancy or-or-or Robin could have held him up." then the tears came, "Jesus Christ, Eddie. Why?" Dustin roughly rubbed the tears from his eyes like he wasn't allowed them.

Steve hung his head, resting his hand on the mattress. His fingers were still reaching out. "That's just not true. We have no way of knowing how far we could have gotten with a-a weight to carry like that. I was struggling. Nance and Robin would have been in the same position."

He raised his head to look at Dustin again, "And you know full well how many times I've had my ass handed to me. How many fights I've lost, mistakes I've made. You didn't do anything wrong, Dustin. This is not your fault." Steve tried to drive those words home, but all it earned him was Dustin turning his body away from him more.

Steve was clutching at straws. He was sure that what he did next might have gotten him cut off like some of the others. Thankfully, in the end, Steve had a use in the future.

"Eddie would have done the same," Steve reassured Dustin and, in some way himself.

Then he had Dustin's eyes on him, but how he wished he could erase that look from his memory.

It started with a turn. An eyebrow flash, eyes wide full of fear and pain. It winded Steve like no physical blow ever had.

In hindsight, It was a look of heartbreak and disbelief. Steve had just let him down, broken his heart. Broken the pedestal Dustin still had him placed on even though he was mad. It was a look that read. You too, Steve? An ultimate betrayal.

Unfortunately, at that moment, Steve misread that look. He thought he finally had Dustin's attention and understanding, so he continued to reassure him.

"From what you told me. Those things were gonna break down the door, maybe swarm the gate, maybe even get through. At you. Eddie wouldn't let that happen. So he tried to lead them away. Leaving the gate clear for all of us, but he didn't want you to follow him. And you know those precious seconds kept those things from coming back to the house too. In his mind, he was keeping us all safe, " then it just falls out of Steve's mouth, "Even though I specifically asked you both not to do that."

Dustin's eyes narrowed spitefully and refilled with fresh tears, but these were ones Steve caused, "Get. Out." Dustin says firmly.

Steve sat there in disbelief. He had just tried to express he understood Eddie and that he believed Eddie was a hero, but all Steve could manage was a confused look, and he almost laughed or scoffed, "What?"

"You heard me. Get the fuck out of here!!" Dustin's voice is being forced through his teeth with venom. The tone sends Steve back to that boat shed. "Don't bullshit me, man!"

"Dustin, hey, I'm on your side," Steve attempted to soothe him and reassure him, "Eddie wouldn't have wanted you to get hurt or put in any danger."

"Don't talk like that," Dustin seethed, "You don't know him. You don't know him like I do" punctuating his words, Dustin poked himself hard in the center of his chest.

"Hey, settle down." Steve puts his hands on the sides of Dustin's upper arms with some pressure. Dustin tried to wriggle free, but Steve made him still so that he would hear him, "You're right. I didn't know him. Not like you, but he told me all about you, and I saw him with you. That man adored you."

"DON'T TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE THAT!!!" Dustin yells; it verges on a scream as he forcefully shoves Steve away.

Steve remembers being so confused at the time, "Dustin, I am trying here. I can't tell you enough. I'm on your side, ok? Look at me. I'm not lying."

"THEN STOP TALKING ABOUT EDDIE LIKE HE'S DEAD!!" Dustin's face crumples, and he lets out a grunt of frustration, throwing a glass against the wall and smashing it. It wasn't aimed at Steve. It wasn't even close.

The sharp intake of breath Steve did in realisation overwhelmed him entirely, and he couldn't hold back his tears this time, so he hid them.

Steve flung his arms around Dustin, squeezing him tightly to him, a hand clasped at the back of his head, as his whole body shook with violent sobs. Steve's chin rests on Dustin's shoulder, leaning their heads against one another.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Steve repeats over and over, squeezing Dustin tightly. Steve's own tears were streaming down his face now. The dam had burst, and he couldn't stop them.

Then he realises he's not being pushed away anymore; he's being pulled in. Dustin squeezes him so tightly, stroking the back of Steve's hair, "I got you, Steve. I got you, man."

Steve has to stop himself from lurching forward and crumbling into Dustin completely.

In between trying to catch his breath, Dustin says, "Wayne said he thinks he's going mad. Says he can hear him sometimes, calling for him." Dustin's body is almost convulsing as he tightens his arms around Steve.

"I told him a lie. I told him I did too. I told him it was some psychological bullshit. Your brain tricks your senses, making you think something is there that isn't." Dustin whimpers, "But that's just not true. The same thing happened to Joyce and Will. It happened to us."

Steve stopped crying, like a switch in him flipped. He couldn't do anything a few minutes ago, but now he could do what he does best. Harrington was gonna save the day.

He pulled back, clasping his hands around Dustin's face, fighting back the emotions with a promise, "I'm gonna find him, and I'm going to bring him home. You hear me?"

His brain lets him claw his way back to the present. He opens the cupboard, grabs a handful of painkillers, and washes them down with his coffee.

That's how he'd ended up here, scouring what was left of Hawkins, following Dustin's suggestions or leads. The only evidence they'd found was the bandana and his spear and shield.

Steve layers up, adorning himself with as many weapons as possible that won't burden him if he needs to run. He swings his trusty bat over his shoulder, pulls Eddie's bandana over his mouth and nose, and steps outside to start another search.

"Eddie??!" he calls out, but he only gets the familiar reply. A chorus of hideous screeches.

[countessrivers]

Kind of long, but...

I’ve brought it up briefly before, but I just really love the way Gotham frames the murder of Thomas and Martha as that first spark, that first little pebble in the pond that ripples outwards, changing the fabric of Gotham forever.

The murder of the Waynes doesn’t just change Bruce forever, it changes the city. The Waynes were all but the city’s royal family, and having them die the way they did, and the tragedy of having their young son witness it, does something to the city’s psyche itself. It also sets into motion a cascading chain of events that ultimately culminates in guys calling themselves The Riddler and The Penguin, running around killing people and trying to blow up mayors, while Bruce Wayne tries to stop them while dressed as a bat.

First off, the murder pulls Jim Gordon fully into the fray. He starts off new to the city, idealistic, wanting to do good, but his promise to Bruce pushes him into close contact with the most ingrained corruption in the city, which he rails against. Jim spends the show fighting against that corruption, trying to do good, trying to make Gotham better even as he struggles to make headway without giving in himself. Solving one murder case becomes something bigger. It becomes about saving the soul of the city, it becomes about bringing to justice those who keep escaping it, and that mission ultimately lands him in the Commissioner’s chair. 

The cover-up, the instability of Wayne Enterprises (with Thomas and Martha dead and Bruce only 12) and Jim’s refusal to play along also weakens Falcone. Perceived weaknesses encourages both Fish and Maroni to start making moves, and gives Oswald his first chance at playing the game. By the end of the season those weaknesses, helped along by Oswald’s involvement, lead to an all out mob war, and when the smoke clears Maroni and Fish are dead, Falcone is gone, and what’s left of the underworld is following Oswald. The lack of a proper, organised, and entrenched mob from this point forward is really what allows the weirder parts of Gotham to flourish. Organised crime for the most part loses its grip on Gotham, and the danger then starts coming from something else.

The beginning of season 2 is where one of the biggest flow-on consequences can be felt. Theo Galavan himself wouldn’t have come back had Thomas and Martha been alive - a grieving, traumatised 13/14 year old is a much easier target for revenge and manipulation than two adults. I also doubt he would have been able to gain as much of a foothold in the city had Falcone still been in control. Oswald was in charge of the mob at this point, but the underworld had been hit hard. He was new, he didn’t have the connections or the power or the loyalty or the experience to keep Galavan out, or to even stand up to him, which is what allowed Galavan to become Mayor, escape arrest, and get so close to taking WE/killing Bruce. What Galavan and Tabitha do also has far reaching consequences for Oswald’s relationships with a number of the other villains, and in how he approaches things from then on.

Galavan also, in a sense, makes Jerome. Up until that point, Jerome was just some kid in Arkham who had killed his mother. Galavan breaks him out and encourages that sadistic, showman side. He plays on his needs and issues and promises him fame and attention and a legacy. His name being remembered forever. He uses Jerome and kills him when his part is done, but he also brings something out in Jerome that changes how he sees himself, the city, and others. He didn’t make Jerome a killer (he’d already killed his mother and happily offed his father and the other Maniax members) but he gave Jerome the opportunity to indulge in his more dramatic side, he encouraged it, all  while coaching him on how to terrorise a city, how to hold it hostage, how to manipulate the other players, and those are things Jerome completely takes on board once he’s resurrected.

And it’s after Jerome that you really see an uptick in the theatrical nature of the villains. Before that you have serial killers, you have the occasional vigilante or mad scientist, and god knows the villains have always been dramatic af, but whether it’s directly because of what Jerome does, or just the way he shifts the city’s psyche once again, the villains of Gotham start changing. For example, while Ed looks to Oswald for guidance on finding his villainous self, the theatricality, the need for an audience and a foil, the riddles themselves, are on a whole new level from his own past crimes, or any of Oswald’s. People start using freeze guns, you have metas popping up all over the place, Jerome has an actual cult following, and a guy with mind control powers and a thing for hats and rhyming shows up looking for his sister. There is a new kind of villain in Gotham, one that fills the gaps left by the mob, encouraged by the very public examples of those that have come before, or influenced by the ways they have been changed. 

Thomas and Martha being dead also has other consequences. Without them the Arkham project is sold off the the mob, which means Arkham Asylum, rather than becoming an actual working mental health facility as Martha wanted, is reopened exactly as is - a run down, corrupt probably cursed institution that no matter how many resources are poured into, never seems to improve its security, staff or patient care. Thomas being dead means that Indian Hill is able to be reopened, and Hugo Strange is able to experiment on people as he likes. Strange actually creates a number of the Rogues directly because no one was around to stop him. (And even indirectly, as one of the escapees essentially creates the second version of Ivy). 

His habit of bringing people back to life also has a number of far reaching impacts - Galavan is killed off pretty quickly, but Fish coming back has major repercussions on Oswald and, though it’s not Strange directly, Jerome being brought back not only spurs a major turning point in Bruce, but he will then go on to “create” Jeremiah.

The Nolan movies framed the death of the Waynes as something that managed to pull the city together, but I like how the show uses it as an act that rattles the city, that shakes something uglier loose, and in a sense, starts an avalanche that culminates in the need for/creation of Batman.

[remakethestars]

Being Batman’s Daughter Would Include:

Headcanons.

❝Listen, Robin. At their core, people are cowardly and self-serving. Trust no one until you know them. And even then, never completely.❞

— Bruce Wayne, “The Lesson Plan”

TRIGGER WARNING: Plant murder. Mentions of drugs/tranqs (stopping dealers), violence/physical harm, broken bones (knee cap), limb dislocation (shoulder), (Jason’s) death, smoke, waterboarding/drowning?

Headcanon masterlist.

You know how every teenager has that paradigm shift because as much as they love the people around them, they’ll never know the inner workings of your psyche? And they realize they’ll never truly be known? And it makes them feel really lonely?

Yeah, you never come to feel like that because you know Bruce digs so far into everyone around him he probably knows you better than you do.

Honestly, he probably reads your diary. At least, he reads the fake one you hide under your mattress. And the second decoy in the A.C. vent above your dresser.

If you’re as paranoid as Bruce, you probably don’t have a diary, and the aforementioned “decoys” are just to mess with him.

Sun Tzu’s The Art of War was practically your Bible growing up.

You’re torn between giving yourself the tactical advantage of being underestimated & being non-reactive, which — besides giving you the lioness role in the lion–gazelle dynamic — gives you the advantage of having time to think carefully on the repercussions before speaking.

Because, as Sun Tzu said in chapter seven, verse twenty-one, “Ponder and deliberate before you make a move.”

Seeing as Bruce and Damian both have eidetic memories, I’m guessing you do too. 

Which means you totally read the dictionary when you were young and whip our big words nobody’s heard of.

Bruce always assured you it’s okay to be scared. As a matter of fact, like he told Dick (seen in flashbacks in “The Lesson Plan”), he taught you to “Let terror embrace you. The better you know fear, the better you can use it against others.”

And we all know Bruce is the paragon of using fear against people.

Take that, Scarecrow!

(See, I chose that gif because earlier in that move, he displays a fear of bats, & in that scene, he summons them to use as a distraction and walks through them completely unperturbed. No? Okay, I’ll see myself out.)

You started into the vigilante business young, a little bulge under the back of Batman’s cape that made the rest of the Justice League in the meeting think Bruce was host to an alien parasite until your little mask-covered eyes poked up over his shoulder.

The League’s known you since you were young, so they kind of all see you as their niece. That just quadruples the amount of people who are overprotective of you.

Eventually, in your tweens, you think enough’s enough and start out on your own — being underestimated may be an advantage, but it’s getting ridiculous — and you tackle unsolved cases.

You set up various safe houses around the world for your own disposal (using the zeta tubes) and anyone who sees the inside of one in an emergency is always surprised. You don’t really understand why; what serious vigilante doesn’t have secure, state-of-the-art safe locations scattered across the planet?

Sometimes, it gets you into danger, but you always get yourself out of it. If there ever comes a time you can’t, well, you’ve got a direct link to Batman, and if communications fail, you can always yell for your Uncle Clark at the top of your lungs.

If the latter ever comes to fruition, you ask Bruce if he’s disappointed you had to call for back-up or that you called Superman instead of Batman, and he says, “It takes a strong person to admit when they’re weak, [Y/N]; if anything, I’m proud of you. Besides … you’re not the only one who yells for Uncle Clark when they get in over their head.”

Your training entailed hacking and mechanics, so you like to fix computers and sell them on the internet Hugh Jeffreys style. It started out with Macs from the dumpster behind Gotham Academy and turned into a surprising side hustle. Large portions of your profits go into either savings or funding your extracurricular activities. 

You’re using a MacBook that’s running Linux and an iPhone 4 that’s running your own program. 

At some point, your phone falls into the wrong hands, and someone asks why it has such high security. You deadpan and say, “I have three older brothers.” No further explanation required.

One such solo case led you to a ring of drug dealers working in a small town outside of Gotham. You made some tranquillizers and heavy-duty smoke bombs and busted out your shinobi-iri training.

After sliding on a mask covering the bottom half of your face that filtered out smoke, you set all of the bombs off at once in the ventilation system, filling the building and using the infrared in your domino mask to sedate everyone before the cops arrived so no one got hurt (because there would inevitably be a firefight if the cops got involved).

You never go into a situation expecting to go hand-to-hand with someone; you always have a plan to take our your targets quickly an efficiently.

One night, when you’re working on a cold case in Gotham, you stumble across some intel that Poison Ivy’s been stockpiling chemicals and is going to wipe out all human life on Earth.

Luckily for you, Bruce’s paranoia is hereditary; you just happen to carry some white kryptonite in your belt, so you won’t have to go all the way back to the cave to obtain some.

You type out a quick debrief on your wrist computer in case you end up needing to send out an S.O.S., pop on your bottom mask to filter out spores or pheromones she might send in your direction, and bust out your shinobi-iri training again.

Of course, you try the peaceful approach, explaining to Ivy that you agree with her on the tree-hugger front to build rapport (T.B.F., who doesn’t?), but it comes to physical confrontation. You kill every vine that comes your way with a quick punch from your kryptonite ring, toss an expanding polyurethane foam bomb (see Batgirl #38) at her feet, and manage to get an inhibitor collar on her.

Gordon takes her away, and by the next morning, it’s on the news.

“You took down Ivy by yourself?” Bruce asks when you come down for breakfast.

“… Yeah,” you say after a moment, expecting a tongue-lashing.

“Are you hurt?”

“No. She didn’t get a hit in. And before you ask, I had a contingency set up in case things went sideways.”

“… Good job.”

Your dad has the article framed in the batcave, which is the bat-equivalent of having your drawing on the fridge or getting a sticker back on a test.

You’re fighting a grin for the rest of the day.

It bugs you you can’t tell anyone why you’re so happy, so you visit Dick in Blüdhaven while he’s on patrol and give him a play-by-play. You even get a hair-ruffle!

Deathstroke targets you at some point. One of Batman and Nightwing’s worst villains, and he targets you because he knows they love you. You’re the smallest bat at the time, the weakest; he thinks you’ll be the easiest to take.

Boy, was he wrong.

He was trained by the League of Assassins, so you know dropping a smoke bomb’s not going to give you cover (and his mask probably has infrared). His brain processes faster than yours, so tricking him is improbable. He’s probably done enough research on you to know you favor foam bombs and has fast enough reflexes to dodge before they go off.

And he’s jammed your comms so you can’t call for backup. You’re worried he’s got kryptonite on him and will hurt Superman if you call for help.

It’s just you and him.

He has enhanced stamina, so he tries to wear you out. You maintain distance to avoid taking damage and wearing faster.

You always admired Tim for his ability to plan ahead (see, like, the entirety of the Red Robin comics). He doesn’t know how he does it; he just does. He can’t really teach you, so you just watch and learn.

You realize your fight with Slade is just a matter of managing the distance and immobilizing him, so you strike. You duck behind a pillar or grab onto a railing or something and shoot him through the thigh with your grappling gun, reeling him in. He, of course, draws his sword or a knife to cut the line, but you’re already throwing high-density expanding polyurethane bombs.

And, just like that, you’ve single-handedly taken Deathstroke.

It sends a clear message to the rest of the Gotham villains, Blüdhaven’s villains, the League of Assassins — don’t mess with the bat’s little girl. She can hold her own.

Now it’s time for you to come up with another plan to take him down; you doubt the same method will work twice, and you’ve just made a very powerful enemy.

As Wonder Woman’s said, “Do not mistake a desire to avoid violence for an inability to deal with it.” You might go into most situations with a plan to take down your opponent already in motion, but when it comes to an all-out brawl, you’re perfectly capable and don’t pull your punches.

You’re working on an unsolved case in Blüdhaven (Dick’s got enough on his plate) when you get an S.O.S. from the aforementioned along with the feed and recording from his mask. You listen to the mission briefing while you ride back to the cave and then the audio from the Young Justice mission. They got jumped by the League of Shadows in an abandoned factory, and Talia’s trying to coerce Damian into joining the League or whatever.

The usual dropping some smoke bombs and tranqing everyone isn’t going to work on thirty armed League assassins who were trained to fight blind, so you load up on polyurethane foam bombs and call Jason and Cassandra.

The three of you take out the guards outside before splitting up and taking either end of the building (Cass stays with you). You meet in the middle, in the room the team’s being held in.

You highjacked the speakers, so they’re blasting AC/DC’s “Shoot to Thrill” upon Jason’s insistence. You wanted Zayde Wølf or Alice Cooper’s “Hey, Stoopid,” but big brothers will be big brothers.

Jason pops them with rubber bullets from above to slow them down for you while Cass demolishes them and you drop foam bombs, slinging your signature custom shuriken, bonk them over the head with Tim’s staff you picked up along the way, dislocate their arms, or shatter their kneecaps. 

You and Jason get a couple slices from swords that got a little too close, but it’s nothing compared to what you’ve had before. 

When the fighting’s done and the building’s quiet, the team’s, like, “Who the heck are you guys?” 

And Dick’s, like, 😏 “They’re our siblings.” 

Speaking of siblings, you’re older than Damian, and as such, you take upon yourself the honor of teaching him all things pop-culture.

“I have a lot of amazing older siblings. I want to be a good big sister.”

First things first, you give him one of your refurbished e-waste phones and take him to Target to pick out an OtterBox or a LifeProof case or something that’ll keep it safe in the pocket of a vigilante.

Vigilantes are always coming to you when their phone’s broken anyway; you’ve got a stack of spares you’ve repaired.

Then you help him set up a Spotify account (follow me at @remakethestars 😉) and try to help him find his rhythm.

Poor child’s never had Oreos before, so you drag a pack of Double Stuffs out of the cabinet and a glass of milk and show him the best milk-dunking method you know.

You think about handing him a cookie and telling him to waterboard it until the bubbles stop coming up, but cookie-dunking is something every kid does; it’s sacred, and you don’t want him to associate it with violence.

You show him how you and Alfred feed the bats in the batcave.

And you show him Vine compilations and your favorite shows and movies and as many classics as you can, and you put up with him pointing out the inaccuracies and calling them stupid.

Every time he doesn’t get a reference, you write it down so you know what to show him later.

If anything ever happens to you, Damian finds your list and makes it his personal mission to watch/read everything on it. It makes him feel close to you.

You build a relationship with him that’s similar to his and Dick’s, and he comes to you with things he might not be able to come to anyone else with.

Plus, since you live in the manor still and he doesn’t want Bruce to think less of him, it’s you he comes to after a nightmare.

If you know Alfred has pictures of him curled up in your side, you ask him to send them to you. Not for blackmail purposes; just to have.

You’d never use the need of comfort or the sharing of emotions against him because (A) it’s perpetuating toxic masculinity and (B) you don’t want him to think it’s wrong or confirm any of the stupid “strength” things the League of Shadows taught him.

You gave him a stuffed cat that looks like Alfred (the cat, not the butler) with some of your perfume spritzed on it. He verbalized his revulsion when you gave it to him, but on nights he has a bad dream and you’re not home, it brings him comfort.

Titus comes to get you when Damian’s upset. 

Even when he’s not with Damian, he seems to know. Pets are like that.

You’ve learned to trust Titus’s instincts. Damian thinks it’s suspicious when he’s feeling down and you just happen to call.

You never realized it until a long time later, but Ace was acting weird the day Jason came back from the dead.

And he was acting weird the day Jason came back to Gotham too. He ran to the door and began barking. Alfred swept security, but nothing seemed to be off. The whole family was on edge that day.

You were the reason Jason knew he wasn’t completely forgotten; he spotted you through a café window, and you were wearing his jacket.

Visit my headcanon masterlist.

[alyssadeliv]

The Forgotten One

First      Previous

Chapter 8

Just seeing that dagger, even after years, brought memories that made his heart ache. He remembered giving it to her… It was her 12th birthday, and even being only six at the time he remembered feeling so proud of himself when her entire face lit up at the sight of his present. The yin and the yang always represented their relationship so well. She was the light inside his darkness, and he was the darkness to her light. He still had the other part of the set, from the last time he had ever seen her, it was his most prized possession. It was inevitable that every time he looked at it he remembered her, so he mostly kept the weapon in the back of his closet, carefully protected inside a wooden box, because it was too painful to look at every day.

Now that he was older he wondered if his first actions after discovering his other siblings had anything to do with her death. Something inside him told him he needed to secure a position for himself before his Father decided he wasn't needed anymore. Because that was the norm in the League. You had to fight for your position. The only person he could let his guard down was his sister. He didn’t need to prove himself for her. She looked at him as if the world started and ended at him, and he always had looked at her the same. 

He took her death hard, but he never truly got to mourn her properly. Being tossed aside by his mother to live with the father he had never met, after the most tragic event of his life, was enough to damage lesser children, but he was the Heir of the League. He needed to be strong. So that's what he did, first, he tried to eliminate his competition. But to his surprise, he was berated by not only his Father but his other siblings. 

Being only ten at the time he didn’t know a life without violence. And he had to relearn how to behave in this new world he was left on. Without his sister by his side, he felt incomplete. Being neglected by the Father he looked up to for so long wasn’t easy either. He never once told anyone about her. He didn't see the point. She was dead, and Al Ghuls never dwell on the past. But as a Wayne, he often found himself opening the wooden box and remembering all the happy moments of his life by his sister's side.

That’s why this copycat made him so angry. He recognized the uniform and the weapons being used. The fighting style and the evasion techniques he recognized from his training in the League. Whomever this person was, it had ties to his grandfather's organization. Living almost three years away from the League lifestyle was enough for him to decide to never return. But he couldn’t for the life of him understand why his mother sent someone to taunt him with his dead sister's doppelganger. That was cold even for her, and he knew that Talia would never cross that line because she loved Marianne too. 

It took him almost one week to try to come clean with his family. He needed time to process. In that period of time, their mysterious assassin completed their mission. Damian knew that because a high fashion designer was found dead by the docks a couple of days after their last encounter with the BatFam. There were signs of torture, but the most peculiar thing was that the designer was wearing a tailored suit with the Order of the Miraculi symbol on the back. Gotham police simply linked his death to a Chinese gang, but Damian knew better. He just wasn’t sure what exactly happened. 

He had a theory that after his sister's death, Wang Fu eventually got a new apprentice, and that person now was impersonating his deceased sister to obtain power. Before her death, Marianne was widely known as The Lily of the Desert. Her reputation was incredible. And her Modus Operandi, amazing.

In his sister's memory, he needed to put a stop to this impostor.

“I have not been completely honest with you Father” They were all at the cave, getting ready for patrol. Grayson and Todd immediately stopped whatever they were doing and stared at him as if he had grown another head. Drake nursing a hot cup of coffee didn't seem to have listened to what he said. 

“And what exactly have you been hiding?” Father asks folding his arms in front of him. These last couple of days had been hard on him. Catching the assassin had been his number one priority. 

“I believe that I have information pertained to Gotham's new visitor…” His Father's face darkens. He wore the Batman suit sans the cowl, but he still looked very much intimidating. 

“And why have I not been informed of this sooner?” He asks with a stern tone. Seeing his Father, with arms crossed, made Damian remember the series of long berations he received in his first months living at Gotham. And for some reason, he felt small.

Seeing his youngest reaction, of flinching, he softened his tone. 

“What I mean is… Why not come to us in the first place, surely we could have helped, and-” He was interrupted, a loud signal echoing through the cave signaling that there was a disturbance. Oracle immediately gets to work. 

“There’s a disturbance in Wayne Botanic Garden… The alarm indicated someone broke in. There is no response from the security team there.” The redhead explains the situation. “I don't think it is Ivy. There have been no sightings of her in weeks… She and Harley have been keeping a very low profile.”

“Suit up everyone! We will finish this later Damian. You and Hood are in charge of discovering where this intruder entered the building. Tim, Alfred benched you, stay here with Oracle and go through the security video, find out where this person is staying. Nightwing you are in charge of finding the security team. I’ll deal with whoever it is inside.”

And with that, they were gone.

When they got to the Botanical Gardens it was too silent. The alarm that alerted them wasn’t on anymore. And if they didn't know better it would have seemed a false alarm. 

“New plan, Nightwing and I will enter the building. Robin and Hood are to keep guard on the roof. If you see anything exiting the building notify us immediately.” And he was gone.

Damian got angry, knowing that his Father was punishing him for lying.

“Well, it looks like it’s just you and me baby bird” Todd says with a cheeky smirk. Even with his laid-back attitude, Damian could still tell that he had his guard up. “You stay here, and I’ll take the other side of the building. Call me if you need backup!” Of all of his brothers, Jason Todd was the one he least interacted with. He mostly lived in his apartment, and aside from patrol, he was never home. He liked to think that at some level the oldest understood him. He too was trained by the League for years, and he always wondered what it would have been like to meet him before coming to Gotham. 

Todd didn’t like to talk about the time after his death and Damian respected that. Because he too had difficulty talking about his childhood. Grayson was the one that always pushed them to try and talk about their feelings, and that was one of the reasons he did like his older brother, it kind of reminded him of Marianne.

Even if he did miss his life in the League, life with his Father was without a doubt, better. He was allowed to have pets, something he always wanted. And he wasn’t expected to train until he bled. He was obligated to attend school, and that he didn't like, but in general, he couldn’t complain. 

Suddenly he got movement from his perimetrical vision, and if it wasn’t for his training he might have missed it. Whomever it was, was taking advantage that the roof from the building across from the Gardens didn’t have lighting. 

Throwing caution out of the window Damian went into action. He didn’t need backup. If it was someone from the League, he could take care of it. When he got to the other roof he was immediately attacked. His opponent wasn’t using the weapons Damian knew she had in her possession. At their last encounter, he hadn’t been able to catch a glimpse of who had attacked Drake, but now he could tell it was someone older than him, and she definitely had previous training. He blocked her first punch but wasn’t able to escape the second one. He momentarily lost his air but didn’t let his guard go down. He responded in kind and suddenly they were in heated combat.

On his intercom, he could hear his Father and siblings asking what was happening, but he didn’t have the time to respond. For some reason, their fight suddenly felt like a dance. They were in synchrony with each other and he felt as if he was missing something. The girl was wearing the traditional League attire, with a small symbol of the Order of the Miraculous on her left breast. It was identical to the one his sister would use, and that only helped to fuel his anger. By now the other would be getting there in a matter of minutes, so he had to act fast. Fastly grabbing a Batarang he threw it with all his force. Not expecting it, she couldn’t get out of the way fast enough, and the weapon lodged itself to her right side. Blood immediately started coming out of the wound. He lunged at her. Using her wound as an advantage. But to his surprise, she didn’t seem affected. And was able to block his attacks with ease. He heard some bodies landing on the roof, his family had reached them. But that still didn’t deter him. Punch after punch he started to gain some ground over his opponent. Landing one powerful land on her jaw she falls to the ground defenseless, and her mask dislodged from her face, and now Damian was finally able to see the face of his opponent. He froze. 

Somewhere behind him he hears his Father asking her questions, but it is all muted. A million thoughts pass through his mind, but there are so many that he can’t form a coherent thought. 

“Ashataqat lak ya 'akhy" Comes from her mouth.

He throws himself towards her. He hears Grayson shouting for him to stop, but he can't, it's like his body is moving at its own accord.

Jason sees everything happening in slow motion. From the second they hear fighting sounds from the Demon Spawn’s intercom to when they reach the rooftop where the fighting is taking place. He sees the brutal moves, Robin, lands on his opponent. And if she wasn't an assassin he would feel bad for her. 

She’s injured but that doesn't stop Damian. Dick tries to interfere, but for some reason Bruce stops him. Something he regrets when she’s finally overpowered and is on the ground because even after Dick screams Damian to stop he still goes after the girl. 

But to their surprise, he doesn’t attack her. He throws himself into her arms. She hugs him back, not even caring that her side it’s badly bleeding. She holds him as if her life depended on it. And Damian is no different. Even being at a considerable distance they can see Robin’s shoulders shaking. He's crying, something no one ever saw him doing before.

That sight stunned him. And he can see he is not the only one. Bruce doesn’t seem to know what to do, and Dick looks like someone just kicked his puppy. 

Oh, how Bruce wishes he had heard what Damian had to say earlier.

So last chapter didn’t get a lot of notes... Is the story getting boring? Honest aswers please! I’m posting this chapter today as a birthday present for myself! (My birthday is in 2 days! So exited!) 

Please tell me your thought!

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[bionerd2point0]

Congratulations on the milestone! 🎉🎉🎉 I'm just going to send a single word your way and see what comes of it... Pirates. 😉

aklsjdskdjf You have NO idea how much I was hoping someone would prompt pirates!! XD I loved the excuse to play in this world some more, and ended up with an entire oneshot haha

Please enjoy!

-

The boat rocks gently with the motion of the waves, a sensation that Jason has long since adapted to. He hasn’t had trouble finding his sea legs since he was a twelve-year-old cabin boy for then-Captain Wayne. There’s a big difference, however, between standing on a rocking deck under a bright sun, and sitting on the floor of a brig with a single dingy window for light.

There’s at least six layers to the grime clinging to his skin now, made all the worse by the dusty pile of straw that serves as his bed, but the water he gets with his meals has to be carefully rationed. He’s not sure how much Drake would care if he became dehydrated, or how long the ship’s stores have to last before they need to pillage another vessel or dock or… whatever Drake does to restock. Jason truly isn’t sure anymore, and while the other man has been a thorn in his side for years, he’s also a bit of an enigma.

No one knows where Drake came from, nor why he carries out seemingly random raids, and Jason’s unwilling stay on his vessel has done little to clear that up. Drake visits him daily to taunt him, bringing plates of bland food and playfully asking questions about Naval movements that he knows Jason won’t answer.

Jason wishes he could say he hates seeing the pirate. Wishes that Drake could be more conventionally cruel, give him something to truly loathe, but the isolation has been having no small effect on his psyche, and after ten days alone Jason craves even the short moments of irksome interaction that Drake gives him.

The long hours alone have done more to wear him down than anything else Drake could have concocted, and he’s not even sure it’s intentional. Drake’s busy, after all, and he’s been very careful to keep his crew’s identities a secret over the years. It makes sense to not let them interact with someone who may be ransomed back to the enemy, assuming Drake doesn’t have something else planned.

Jason fingers the thin lines scratched into the wood by his thigh. It’s still too early in the day to scratch in the next, but he wants something to do. He knows better than to give into the temptation, though. The days pass more quickly when he can look forward to scratching another mark into the floor at sunset.

Distantly, he hears shouts from the deck, words indistinguishable but carrying the distinct tone of stress. Is there a storm gathering on the horizon?

The distant barking of orders carries on for a long while before the stomping of boots descending the stairs makes him sit up straighter. Something is happening, and he doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Drake turns the corner and Jason feels a tendril of real alarm curl in his gut. Even if there’s not a storm on the horizon, there’s more than enough dark anger in Drake’s expression to mean trouble. He stalks over to the door of the cell and produces a key, which has Jason scrambling to his feet. All of their interactions have been through the bars in the past, even sliding the meal trays and chamber pot through a small opening. With the way Drake looks… Jason’s not entirely sure he’s not about to die.

The door groans as it opens, rusty hinges protesting. Drake pauses for a moment, taking in Jason’s wary stance and the tension in his shoulders.

Jason’s mobility has been pretty limited thanks to the manacle tethering his wrist to the wall, but he’s kept up with the exercises that he can do around it and was plenty strong before his capture. He can give Drake a real fight if it comes down to it.

“If you value your life… if you have any desire to not be tortured to death in gruesome ways, you will cooperate with me. Clear?” Drake’s tone is cold and serious.

“Why should I trust you?” Jason retorts. Drake’s not outright threatened him before, but there have been plenty of implications and attempts to tease him with ways to ‘improve his stay.’

Drake snorts, a hint of that teasing smirk slipping back on his face. “Don’t trust me, just trust that you’re more valuable to me alive than dead.”

Jason takes a shuddering breath. That… fits the narrative Drake has been building around him. “Fair enough.”

Nodding sharply, Drake produces another key. “Try to fight me, and I’ll have you hogtied, gagged, and thrown in a box with the cargo,” he says mildly, reaching for the heavy metal encasing Jason’s wrist.

Tellingly, Jason doesn’t so much as step towards the door until Drake nudges him towards it.

His legs feel shaky going up the stairs—jogging in place is no match for being able to just walk around throughout the day—but they make it up to the deck without incident. The sun is blinding after spending so long without it, and Jason has to squeeze his eyes shut as spots dance across his vision.

“Keep your head down,” Drake murmurs, grabbing Jason’s arm to pull him across the deck.

Jason tilts his face to the ground and blinks rapidly, trying to clear his vision before he’s locked away again. Surreptitious glances from the corner of his eye reveals the crew in their usual mix of terrifying masks and colorful scarves, identities carefully hidden away. They’re rushing about trying to… tie up the sails? Jason blinks, turning his head just a little more to the side to try and figure out why they’d do that.

There’s no dark clouds on the horizon, but there’s a little smudge in the distance that he can’t quite decipher before Drake hisses at him and he looks back down at the deck.

He’s pulled through two sets of doors on the other end of the ship, then Drake drops his arm and turns towards a basin resting on a trunk in… his room.

Jason stills.

He’s in the Captain’s quarters—Drake’s quarters—and there is very definitely something bad going on because why was he brought to Drake’s personal quarters?!

There’s a bed pushed into one corner and a desk in the other with a bookshelf next to it. A few more trunks, some paintings, a small dining table in the middle, and a place where there might have been a decorative sword hanging in the past… it’s honestly decorated quite tastefully, and Jason is left even more confused than before.

“Here.” Drake turns away from the tall trunk revealing a basin of water, some soap, and a stack of linen. “Wash up as best you can and change into those clothes. Hide what you’re wearing under the bed, and be quiet.” Drake glares at him. “If you break anything, it’s not going to be me that kills you.”

That brings up a whole new host of questions, but Jason dutifully bites them back and nods. At least he’ll be able to scrub some of the old sweat off his skin.

“Good.” Drake nods sharply and heads back for the door, pausing just as he’s stepping over the threshold. “Oh, and Captain Todd?”

Jason doesn’t like the devious smile that curls over Drake’s lips.

“If anyone asks, you’re my lover.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33807820

[justcourttee]

I would love for like Adrien to find a lost 4 year old at one of his photo shoots and after conformting the child and trying to help him find his parents the kid yells mommy! And runs to damian and Marinette

So so sorry for being so inactive. It’s been a crazy semester and I haven’t been able to sit down and write as much as I had hoped. (Side note, If you sent a request, I promise I will get to it. I never overlook them unless they are the same request twice. I will only answer one if it’s the same prompt :))

There were three or four of these requests in my inbox all slightly different but based on this same idea! So I hope you enjoy this :)

Just Like You

Adrien knew one thing was absolute in this world.

Photoshoots always were and always would be the bane of his existence.

He thought that when his father left him in charge of the company so that he and Nathalie could travel the world, he could lay off on the photoshoots, hire some new faces. What a naive wish. He should’ve known that his father would have booked him to wear all of the upcoming designs and deadlines for the next two years.

“Alright guys, let’s call it quits for now and take an hour lunch. Everyone meet back here by 1.”

Adrien sighed as he slipped off the jacket he was wearing, handing it off to the intern before stepping out of their cornered off section of the park. What to eat for lunch was the only question plaguing his mind as he unconsciously stepped toward Andre’s cart conveniently set up a mere 20 feet from their site.  He was so close to his tasty snack when a cry pierced his ears.

His eyes swept the park looking for the culprit only pausing once they landed on a small child collapsed by the water fountain, their face buried in tiny hands.

Nobody seemed to be rushing to their aid, in fact, it was as if all of Paris was trying to ignore the girl’s cries as they scurried to wherever they were in such a hurry to be. Typical. His eyes glanced once more longingly at the ice cream cart before his feet turned on their path. He tried to approach as slowly as possible stopping a couple of feet from the child, careful to not scare her off.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

She didn’t even bother to look up, her wails echoing off the marble of the fountain. Adrien wasn’t sure what to do. He had worked with kids before in photoshoots, but he truly had no personal experience with them.

“Why are you crying?”

There was still no answer. He didn’t know what he was expecting. Just because he changed the question didn’t mean she was going to automatically talk to him. So instead, he remained crouched, hoping he could wait her out before his lunch break ended.

“Mom-Mommy told me not to talk to strangers sir.”

Her french was jagged, much like it was a language in progress. She was definitely from out of town. That concerned Adrien more than anything else. Hawkmoth may have fallen off the face of the Earth, but that didn’t mean every scum followed suit.

“That’s good advice from your mom. Is she with you today?”

Adrien regretted the words the minute they flew from his mouth. Her whole body stiffened as if she suddenly remembered her situation.

“I don’t know. She told me to stay put, but I saw this pretty butterfly and I thought it was one of mommy’s friends. So I tried to chase and after it and when it went bye-bye, I didn’t know where I was.”

Slowly, her head tilted to the side, her watery eyes drilling into his as if she wasn’t sure whether to cry or attack. The look, however, wasn’t what sucked all the air out of his surroundings.

“My God, you look just like her.”

The child turned her whole body, her face morphing from hostile to curious. It was as if some Akuma had hit Marinette Dupain-Cheng shrinking her to the size of one four-year-old girl. She was identical to the girl he had cared for save for her eyes. Instead of the mesmerizing blue he had gotten lost in so many times, they were a striking emerald green.

“Can we get some ice cream?”

Adrien blinked twice as if waking from a strange dream.

“From that cart over there?”

Her little finger nearly poked his eye out as she motioned behind him to where Andre stood.

“I-I-um,” his voice hadn’t cracked in years, was he going to hit puberty again? “I thought I was a stranger. You can’t get ice cream with a stranger.”

Gone were her tears and in their place stood a dazzling smile of tiny peals.

“You’re right, but you’re not gonna hurt me, mister. I can tell by your eyes. Daddy always tells me to check the eyes.”

Without another word, she skipped past Adrien forcing him to chase after her retreating figure. She had just reached the cart when a frantic voice stopped her order in its tracks.

“Amelia Martha Wayne, Where are you?”

“Mommy!”

It was as if she completely had forgotten about her ice cream as she pushed past Adrien’s legs leaving him frozen in place. That voice. He hadn’t heard it in so many months, so many years. It stilled his racing heart.

“Mommy, mommy, do you want some ice cream? This nice man was about to pay for some!”

Instantly Adrien felt his senses heightened. It felt as if he was seconds away from his death bed.

“I promise Marinette, it wasn’t like that!”

Adrien whipped around, his hands straight up in the air only to come face to face with a shorter, very angry face. His fist was already balled, raised in the air as if he was going to clobber Adrien from behind.

“Damian! Wait!” In an instance, a flash of black hair jumped between him and his would-be assailant. “I know him! You remember my partner, right? This is Adrien!”

The words didn’t seem to ebb at his anger, but he slowly lowered his fist, reaching down to scoop up the little girl instead. Adrien released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“That is you, right Marinette?”

He felt like time itself had frozen as she turned, that familiar smile blinding his vision. 

She had matured. Her smile no longer held the naivety and love from when they were younger, but it was just as bright and welcoming. He couldn’t help his own smile that pulled at his lips. She was just as intoxicating as ever. And she was-

His eyes landed on the small bump protruding from her stomach.

“Hey Kitty, it’s been a while.” Her eyes followed his to where they remained glued on her midsection. “Oh yes, a lot has happened the past few years. Please, allow me to introduce my husband Damian and our daughter Amelia.”

His eyes shot back up, the red swallowing his face as he shot his hand out to accept the man’s extended hand in front of him.

“Very nice to meet you Damian, and of course, you as well Amelia,”

The man didn’t utter a word, his face still contorted into the snarl he had upon arriving. Adrien felt as though his voice was stuck in the back of his throat. How could this small man be so intimidating?

“Set call! Ten minutes people, ten minutes!”

Adrien’s eyes widened as he yanked his phone from his back pocket. There was no way that he had wasted his entire break, he hadn’t even had lunch yet!

“I remember that sound, we should be heading out cause I doubt Amelia has given you any time to eat.” Her playful glare earned a giggle from the little girl who mouthed a sorry to him. “But we should catch up before we head back to the States! Just text me when you’re free.”

Her smile was still warm, her eyes still shining with love, but there was one difference from the Marinette he used to know. All of that love was no longer directed at him. He watched as she intertwined her hand with the man beside her, turning to leave the park, the giggle of her and Amelia echoing in his ears. He wanted to reach out, ask them to stay longer, watch the shoot for old time's sake. But as they retreated further away, he couldn’t find it in him to bring her back to the past.

He chuckled quietly to himself, turning to rush to Andre’s cart before he had to return to the life he had chosen.

“I’m happy for you Marinette and that little girl of yours, well,” he spared one last glance over his shoulder, Amelia’s smile just as blinding as the one from his childhood “she looks just like you.”

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy @seraphkitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @mialuvscats @leagrey @smolplantmum @animegirlweeb @glitterflowercat @ladybug-182 @maskedpainter @remy-289 @redbullgivescaswings

[americancowgirl19]

Expendable

Summary: Consumed by your grief over Jason’s death, you track down the Joker on your own. Only you end up finding some... thing very different.

Warnings: vampires, violence, depression, fluff, angst

Reader: Female Reader

Pairings: Dick Grayson x Reader (Platonic), Jason Todd x Reader (Platonic), Tim Drake x Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 6,113

A/n: Enjoy

Masterlist

You heaved heavily hunched over the bathroom sink. Your fingers grip the edge of the counter top, knuckles turning white. Your eyes are screwed shut as you try not fall apart for the millionth time that week.

It’s only been a month since Jason died and you felt as if you saw his freshly dead body a few hours ago. Your dreams are riddled with nightmares. You can’t even escape the thoughts while awake.

All you can think about is Jason’s beaten and burned body. You can hear the Jokers mocking laugh when you and Batman found him after Jason’s death. Bruce refused to kill him and stopped you from doing it yourself. Batman turned him into Arkham and like everyone could predict, the pale bastard escaped.

Slowly, your eyes open. You look at yourself in the mirror. You try to push back the tears as visions of Jason plague your mind. 

You were Bruce’s daughter. You were a few years younger than Dick but a few years older than Jason. You and Dick had a rocky friendship the first couple of years but you managed to work it out. With Jason, however, the connection was instant.

The both of you had tempers. Tempers which the other knew how to calm. The two of you just had an understanding. You became close quickly. 

You didn’t want to believe that Jason was dead. You didn’t want to believe that Bruce just let Joke get away with it. You wanted your brother back, you wanted Bruce to avenge him.

“I’m sorry, Jason,” You whisper. You wished you could have been there to save Jason. If only you had gotten to him sooner. Just 5 minutes would have made all the difference.

Your anger bubbles up to the surface all at once and before you know it, your punching the mirror until it’s all broken in the bathroom sink. Ignoring the stinging pain in your hand, you march out of the bathroom.

You storm out of your room and head toward the Batcave. You didn’t have to worry about running into your father. He’s either hiding in his room or out capturing other bad guys that have nothing to do with Jason’s death. Because apparently everyone else mattered while you, Dick and Jason were expendable.

Not to you, however. Your brothers were not expendable to you. They’re your world and the fact that you couldn’t protect Jason killed you. If Bruce wasn’t going to avenge him then that responsibility fell onto you.

You changed into your Sparrow uniform. By the time your pulling your mask on and making your way to your motorcycle, Alfred is entering the cave. You ignore him but he isn’t a man you can just ignore.

“Ms. Y/n?” He questions. You adjust your getup and swing your leg over the bike. Before you can turn the bike on, the man you’re closer to than your own father appears before you. “Where are you going?”

“Out,” You answer. He gives you a look but you don’t back down.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” He advises.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not asking for permission,” You snap. “Why don’t you go tend to daddy dearest and let me do what needs to be done?” Alfred looks even more concerned as you turn the bike on. You don’t allow yourself to feel guilty for being rude to Alfred. You have to stay focused.

You speed away from the manor and toward Gotham City. The Joker could be in a number of places but you knew who to ask to narrow down his location.

Before Jason’s death, you weren’t as ruthless as you were now. You were a happy medium between Bruce’s temperament and Jason’s. But now, you didn’t even recognize yourself anymore. 

You wanted blood.

You interrogated bad guy after bad guy. You left each of them in the streets, inches from death like the scum they were. You felt no sympathy for them as they struggled to breathe. You ignored their pleas for mercy and for help as you walked to your bike to find your next target.

You were so consumed on what you were doing and your goal to find the Joker that you didn’t realize you were being watched. And Bruce wasn’t the one stalking you.

“Where’s the Joker?!” You shouted before slamming your fist into the guys face. “Tell me!” You screamed. He grunted when you resorted to breaking his rips with your foot. You kicked him before he rolled onto his back prompting you to switch to stomping on his chest.

“Oh, you poor child,” A voice sounded from the shadows. In an instant, you whip the gun you had stolen out of the thigh holster and point it into the dark blindly.

“Show yourself,” You demand. You listen to the steps before a tall man comes into the moonlight. “Who are you?” You ask.

“Someone who can help you,” Your head tilts. “You can put that gun away, it cannot harm me.” He states.

“Who. Are. You?” 

“As I said, I’m someone who can help,” He says, sauntering closer to you. Your eyes narrow at him. “I know where the Joker is, I can take you to him,”

“Where is he?”

“I’ll tell you, but that information isn’t free,” He shakes his head.

“Tell me or you’ll end up like this deadbeat,” You motion to the man on the ground that’s slowly choking on his own blood. The man in front of you looks at him and smirks.

“You surely have potential... and you certainly have anger. Oh, so much anger,” He whispers coming forward. “You live on the need for vengeance. I can give it to you and so much more. All I want is to make a deal,”

“What kind of deal?” You ask, tilting your head. 

“I give you the Joker, and you give me your allegiance,” He says, stepping up to the end of the barrel of the gun. If you pull the trigger, the bullet goes straight through his heart.

“My allegiance?” You ask, slowly.

“You get the chance to finally sate your need for vengeance and you work for me.”

You stare into his eyes for a few moments before lowering your gun to the holster. He smirks and scoops you into his arms. Before you can ask a question he’s running at a speed that could outmatch the Flash.

“What the fuck?” You gasp when he comes to a stop and sets you down. “You’re a metahuman?”

“Not exactly,” He smirks. “I’ll explain everything once you’re finished. Inside is the Joker along with a lot of his friends. If you survive, you’ll be an excellent addition to my collection,” He states, prior to running off.

“Who the fuck is that guy?” You mutter to yourself. Sighing, you turn towards the building. A moment later, people start coming out. Large men in suits. They stop and look at you. A few draw their weapons. You smirk. “Who’s first?”

It took you a half an hour to reach the Joker. You’re not sure if you killed anyone, although it’s highly likely that you have. By the time you reach the pale skin fucker you’re covered in blood and bruises (maybe a bullet hole or two). Some of the blood is yours but most of it isn’t.

The Joker talks. He’s taunting you. Yet, you don’t really hear what he says. As you look at him, your mind is filled with images of Jason’s dead body. You stalk closer to him. 

You put your weapons away and pick up the crowbar you had found on a lower level. You had set it down in order to take care of the goons in the room quickly. 

But now you had the Joker right where you wanted him. You weren’t going to make this quick. Every time you brought the crowbar down on him, he only cackled loudly. Every strike just fueled your anger. 

You continued to beat him. At some point, his skull caved in but you continued to swing. You scream, tears falling down your face but you hardly notice. You just swing and swing until you collapse on the ground.

You let out one large, loud scream that echoes throughout the entire building. When you quiet down, your body curls into a tight ball and you begin to sob.

“Easy now, little one,” The inhuman man whispers, kneeling before you. “I’ll take your pain away,” He promises, picking you off the ground. “Rest now, I’ll look after you,” He whispers, racing you out of the building seconds before Batman shows up.

You don’t know how long you’re asleep, but when you wake up everything is different. You sit up from the unusually comfortable bed and look around. You don’t recognize where you are but at the moment it’s the least of your worries.

You never had absolutely perfect vision but now you’re eyes were acting like binoculars. You could see a far distance out the window and everything in clear detail that’s around you. Hell, you could even hear the cars going down the road miles from the house you’re in.

You move closer to the window but stop at the sound of the man who had taken you. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” You spin around toward him. You frown your eyebrows and look back to the window. You didn’t understand what he was warning you about. 

You soon find out when you step into the sunlight and find your skin heating up until it begins to burn. You gasp and speed to the other side of the room.

“What’s happening to me?” You whisper, watching your skin begin to blister. 

“Here, drink this,” He tosses you a bag. Your reflexes catch it. You want to ask what it is but your instincts take over as the smell reaches your nose. Within a minute, you have the bag drained of it’s liquid. 

When your done drinking, you look at the man. He nods to your arm and your eyes widen. You see your arm heal until there’s no trace of what had happened.

“Come, we have a lot to talk about,” You follow him down the hall. “My name is Vladimir but you may know me as Dracula,”

“Dracula?” You deadpan. “For real?”

“What? You do not believe that vampires are real? Even though you are one?” You stop walking. He stops as well and turns to you. “You are the daughter of Bruce Wayne, The Batman, you should be able to connect the dots,”

The blood, the enhanced senses, the vulnerability to light. You didn’t know how it was possible, but it was true. You were a vampire. You had made a deal with the devil... But oh, was it worth it.

****

“Whe-where am I?” A pale, redhead whimpers.

“Vicki Vale,” You state from the shadows. Your voice echoes off the walls making it impossible for her to pinpoint where you are. “So, you’re the one that’s obsessed with my father,” You growled. For a long time, the woman in front of you reported on both Bruce Wayne and Batman. She wrote article after article about him.

“Who are you?” She asks, in a shaky voice.

“Oh don’t worry, it’s not me you have to worry about,” You assure her, a smirk dancing on your lips.

“Alright, Y/n, that’s enough,” Vlad says coming into the room. Vicki gasps and turns to him. “Oh, you are beautiful,” Vlad whispers. “You will work perfectly,”

“Wh-what?” She whimpers, shying away from him.

“Y/n, leave Vicki to rest in peace, we have things to discuss,” Vlad calmly orders before turning to leave the room. You come out of the shadows, smirking when you startle her.

“So, she’ll work?” You ask him, the two of you walking toward his office.

“Yes, but we must move quickly. Your father and brother are causing trouble,” He tells you. Your head tilts at the information.

“They’ve killed more of your vampires?” You ask him.

“They found a way to cure them,” Vlad corrects you. “I need you to end them. I can’t afford to lose anymore vampires and I will not let them stop me from bringing Carmilla back,” He growls.

“Don’t worry, master, I’ll stop them,” You promise.

“I don’t want you to just stop them,” Vlad says, moving closer to you. “I want them dead and I want you to bring me their bodies. Do not fail me,” He growls.

“Have I ever?” You ask, smirking.

“Be quick about it,” Vlad orders. “The sun will be up in a few hours,”

****

“Viki Vale has gone missing,” Bruce informs Dick and Tim as he enters the Batcave. 

“Dracula?” Dick asks, crossing his arms in his Nightwing costume. His mask resting on the desk by Tim.

“He’s planning something. More and more people are being turned, we have to stop him before we’re too outnumbered.” Bruce says.

“Reports are coming in about a string of animal like murders in the Narrows. Fits vampire descriptions,” Tim says, reading the reports off the computer.

“Can you get a read on how many vampires there could be?” Dick asks.

“Doesn’t seem like a lot,” Tim mutters. “One, possibly two,”

“Let’s check it out,” Bruce orders. Tim nods standing up. He and Dick pull their masks on. Tim and Bruce get in the batmobile while Duke powers up the motorcycle. They both drive to the Narrows to investigate.

****

You hide in the shadows as the infamous Batman, Robin and Nightwing appear. You glare at the young Robin boy. Of course Bruce replaced Jason. It was typical for Bruce to replace someone. Fury fills your heart but you manage to control it knowing that if you waited a little longer, you would get the opportunity to unleash hell.

You didn’t want to hurt Dick. He’s your brother. But you didn’t have a choice. Vlad ordered you to kill them and that’s what you had to do. You wouldn’t necessarily take pleasure in killing your father and his newest protégé. However, you hoped that with Bruce’s death you would finally feel at peace with yourself.

You killed the Joker but your anger remained. You killed Jason’s bitch of a mother yet storm within you continued to rage. Maybe with the death of Batman you would finally know peace and tranquility. You didn’t blame Bruce for Jason’s death but you hated that he didn’t avenge him. You hated that he replaced him. That hatred mixed with your growing anger consumed you.

“This one’s still alive,” Dick announced, kneeling beside a woman. Bruce moved to kneel beside him while Tim wandered off. You smirked and followed him. You made some noise to draw him further from the others.

“You’re the new Robin, hmm?” You asked. Tim looked around. Technically, Tim wasn’t new. He had been at this for a couple of years now but you aren’t exactly up to date on the world around you. You’ve been training and isolated from the world for a long time. So, while Tim isn’t exactly new, he’s new to you.

He took a defensive stance but it wouldn’t do any good against you. You could kill him with a flick of your finger.

“We can help you,” Tim says, his eyes searching for you. “You don’t have to do this, you don’t have to be a vampire,”

“Oh, but I want to be,” You smirk, walking around him but continued to stay out of sight. Tim looks confused by your statement.

“We have a cure,” Tim states. You sneak up behind him.

“I don’t want it,” You whisper, in his ear. By the time he spins around, you’re out of sight. You grin, loving the sound of his heart hammering in his chest. “Tell me, what do you know about the Robin before you?”

“What?” Tim asks, tensing.

“You’re not Jason Todd,” You growl. Tim becomes increasingly more nervous. “So, may I know the name of his replacement?” You spit. He doesn’t answer you. “Fine, don’t answer, doesn’t matter anyway,” 

Tim tenses as things fall eerily silent. He goes to fall for back up but before he can finish the first syllable he’s lifted off the ground. You hand becomes tighter and tighter around his throat.

“You’re not Jason and you will never be him,” You growl, glaring at him. Tim choke, gripping your wrist but your grip doesn’t falter. His eyes widen a fraction as he recognizes you.

All throughout the mansion there’s picture of you. Dick talks about you all the time. He knows who you are but he can’t believe it. Bruce assumed you were dead, Dick insisted you were just missing. For nearly 7 years Dick worked to find you. Almost every spare moment went into finding some clue about you but you had vanished. 

“If you were,” You smirked. “You would have been able to take me down... You’re pathetic... Weak,” You bring him closer to your face. He struggles to breathe, looking even more terrified when your fangs extend. “And I’m so hungry,” 

Before you can feed on him, you’re knocked to the ground. You let Tim go as you tumble away. The boy collapses on the ground, coughing and struggling to breath in.

“Has anyone ever told you not to get between a vampire and her meal?” You growled, standing up. You turn to the man who had tackled you and smirked. There, only two feet away, is your older brother.

“Y/n,” Dick whispers, his defenses falling.

“Hey, big brother,” You wink. You take advantage of his astonishment and attack. You don’t even realize it but you’re holing back. You’re not going as fast as you could nor are you striking with all your strength. Hell, you’re barely hitting him with 20% power.

“Y/n! Stop! This isn’t you!” Dick shouts but you don’t listen to him. You grab his shoulders and fling him into a nearby wall. He collapses and struggles to breath.

“I’m not you’re little sister, anymore Dickie Poo,” You say, stalking up to him. “And all you are to me is a meal,”

“Then why haven’t you killed me yet?” Dick groaned pushing himself up. You freeze for just a moment but Dick notices it.

“What can I say? I’ve always liked playing with my food,” You growled, trying to cover up your hesitance.

“You’ve always been a shit liar, sis,” Dick teases. You hiss as he stands. “You’ll always be my baby sister, you’re just more of a pain in my ass right now,” He smirks putting up his hands. “And you hit like a bitch,”

Crying out, you attack Dick once again. This time you hold back even less but you’re still not aiming to kill him. It angers you as you hear Vlad’s comment in the back of your mind. Your vampiric instincts are fighting against your humanity. 

Just when you’re about to give into your inclination to follow your masters orders a batarang sinks into your arm. It snaps you out of your instinctual daze. You look at it before following it’s path. You’re eyes land on Batman. For the first time in years you stare into your fathers eyes.

Before anything can happen, something catches your attention. You turn your head and watch the sun begin to peak over the buildings. You’re out of time.

“Wait!” Dick shouts reaching for you but you’re already gone.

****

You stand in front of Vlad for a solid five minutes. Five minutes of absolute silence. Intense, awkward, silence. You barely have the strength to hold his gaze for these few minutes but know if you look away you’ll look weak.

“I told you not to fail me,” Vlad tells you.

“I underestimated the skill of-”

“You’re a vampire!” Vlad shouts. It takes everything in you to not flinch. “You have the strength of a hundred men! I could possibly forgive you not being able to defeat your father, I failed that as well. However, you couldn’t kill an 18 year-old boy? Or your older brother?” Vlad asks, walking toward you.

“My humanity got in the way,” Vlad backhands you harshly.

“Your humanity,” Vlad says slowly. “For 6 year I’ve been working so hard to perfect you and yet here you are, a disappointment.” He spits.

“I’ll make it up to you,” You promise.

“You will,” Vlad nods, walking back to his seat. “And if you fail me again. I will rip your heart out,” You bow to him. “Wait for my word in your room,”

“Yes, master,” 

****

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Tim asks, his voice horas. You had bruise his throat pretty good. It was a miracle he was able to talk at all at the moment.

“If anyone is going to get through to her, it’s him,” Dick assures him. Tim presses his lips together and follows his brother into the worn down building.

“How do we know he’ll even help?” Tim wonders.

“Because it’s Y/n,” Dick answers simply. Tim glances at him but says nothing else.

“You’ve got a lot of balls to come here, Dick,” Tim and Dick spin around to face Red Hood. Tim is in a defensive stance remembering the last time they had crossed paths. Red Hood and him fought, Tim barely escaping hospital time.

“Relax,” Dick mutters to Tim.

“What are you doing here, Dick?” He asks, looking around for Batman.

“Bruce isn’t here... It’s just us,” Dick assures him. They stare at each other for a moment before he takes off his red mask. “Jason,” Dick nods. Jason ignores the greeting and walks around them to get to his stuff. “Y/n’s alive,” Jason freezes completely. “We saw her a few hours ago,”

“Where?” Jason asks, keeping his back to them.

“Have you come across any vampires?” Dick asks. Jason turns to them.

“They’ve been crawling around town like cockroaches,” Jason says.

“Y/n’s one of them,” Dick tells him. “She attacked us a few hours ago. She tried to kill us but didn’t follow through.”

“We think that she still has some humanity left,” Tim says.

“I know she’s still in there.” Dick insists. “She could have very easily killed Tim and I but she held back,” Jason looks at the bruise around Tim’s throat. 

“She still mourns you,” Tim tells him. “If she knew you were alive, maybe we can get her back. If we can get her back to the mansion, we can cure her,”

****

“Everything is in place,” Vlad says. You stand in the background watching him. On the tables in the middle of the room lay two women. One is Vlad’s beloved Carmilla. The other is Viki Vale. The plan was to transfer Viki’s life essence into Carmilla to bring her back to life.

“Master,” A newly turned vampire interrupts. Vlad turns to her. “Batman, Robin and Nightwing have arrived.” Vlad snarls and turns to you.

“They must not stop the transference,” Vlad tells you.

“I will kill them once and for all master,” You vow.

“Kill the Batman, capture Robin and Nightwing. Take them to my office and keep them there,” Vlad orders. You tilt your head but nod.

“As you wish,” You bow and exit the room. You hunt down the three men but only find two of them; Dick and Tim. “I see your stubbornness has only increased with age,” You state standing at one end of the hall while they stand on the other. They look a little worn down but you can tell they still have plenty of energy.

“Guess I spent too much time around you as kids,” Dick shrugs, twirling his batons. 

“You should have stayed away,” You tell them, cursing yourself for how soft your voice had gotten. Your humanity, yet again, was showing. You pushed it back and locked it in a box but the little slip up was enough to confirm to both Dick and Tim that you could still be saved.

“You’ve been gone a long time, little sister,” Dick states. “It’s time to bring you home,”

“This is home,” You hiss. Dick shakes his head.

“This is a prison,” Dick corrects you. You smirk.

“You once said the same about Wayne Manor,” You remind him. You stare at him and your eyes flicker to Tim. “Join me,” You suggest. “We can give you the power you can only dream of,” You say, stepping closer to him. “We can be a family again,” You whisper, your humanity coming up once more. You allow it, for now.

“We can be a family,” Dick agrees. You perk slightly. “When you’re cured and back at the Manor,” Your face turns sour.

“Fuck the Manor,” You spat. “Fuck Bruce and Fuck Batman,” You hiss. “You think he cares?”

“He does!” Tim snaps. You laugh.

“Where did he pick you up from?” You ask Tim. “You must have a past. Bruce never takes in anybody mentally stable,”

“We’re not talking about that right now,” Dick cuts in. “If you don’t want to go to the manor, fine. Come with me,” Dick suggests. “I have an apartment in Bludhaven. You can stay with me... It’ll be like old times,” You’re so tempted to give in.

“I can’t,” You shake your head. “This is who I am now, this is where I belong,”

“No, you belong with us,” Dick insists.

“I haven’t belonged with you in years,” You mutter but he hears it. “I’m happy to see you alive, Dick... But you really should have stayed away,” You said, your voice hardening.

“We don’t have to do this,” Dick says. He and Tim fall into a defensive stance.

“I won’t go back,” You tell him. “Not with you, not with him and certainly not with Bruce,” You growl. “Why can’t you see that you’re not worth anything to him! All you are is an expendable tool! He’ll just replace you when you’re done being useful to him,”

“That’s a lie!” Tim shouts.

“Oh really?” You ask. “Then why are you standing here? Tell me, how long did he wait to replace Jason with you?” You wonder. “You’re nothing to him and when you die, he’ll move on like he always does and not give you a second thought!”

“You’re head is twisted, Y/n! You’re blinded by hatred and anger and grief, let us help you!” Dick pleads.

“No, I don’t need your help,” You growl racing toward them. Tim and Dick put up a good fight but you were done letting your humanity control you. Before they could pull any fancy tricks like they used to stop the other vampires, you knocked them out cold. Grabbing them by their collars you drag them to Vlad’s office. You lock them inside before hunting down your father.

You find him in the transference room fighting Vlad. You quickly join your master. With the both of you fighting against Batman, you’re beginning to overpower him. Until he uses a UV light which causes you and Vlad to scream in pain. When it’s gone, you slowly begin to heal.

“No! No! No!” Vlad screams seeing Vicki has disappeared before the transference  could complete. “NO!” You force yourself to a stand. You gasp when Vlad appears before you and grabs you by the throat. You struggle against him but he’s a great deal stronger than you. “I told you to kill him!” He snarls. You try to talk but he’s crushing your windpipe. “You’ve failed me for the last time,” He goes to rip your heart out when he’s pull away from you.

You fall to the ground and shake the dizziness from your head. You look up and see a grappling hook in Vlad’s chest. A man by the door holds the string and continues to pull Vlad from you until he gets his footing and yanks the man to him. You watch as Vlad throws him across the room.

“You vigilantes are a disease,” Vlad growls stalking toward him. You force yourself to stand. You feel your thirst begin to rise as your healing completes. 

Fresh blood gains your attention. You turn to the door seeing Dick and Tim at the entrance. You figured you had the guy in the red mask to thank for their escape

“Ah, look at this,” Vlad claps his hands. “A family reunion,” The red mask guy pushes himself up, grimacing at the pain in his back. “If you want another chance to live, Y/n,” Vlad turns toward you. “I want you to kill your brothers,”

You turn to Dick and Tim. They’re eyeing you as you eye them. The human voice in your head gets smaller and smaller as your animal instincts and need for blood overcome you.

“Kill them,” Vlad orders. Unable to fight his order, you advance to Dick. You stop when a clunk of stone is throne at your head. It doesn’t hurt you but it gets your attention. Your head snaps to the red mask guy with a growl.

“You on your period or something sis?” Your entire body freezes at the sound of his voice. No, it’s not possible. “You know how you get during that time of the month... I swear you turn into a fucking gremlin,” He raises his hands and takes the mask off. “Or, I guess, in this case a vampire,” Jason smirks.

“No,” You whisper shaking your head. “It’s not possible... You... you’re dead,”

“Didn’t stick,” He shrugs with that arrogant smirk of his. “Amazing what a Lazarus pit can do, huh?” Your breath hitches in your throat. It was possible.

“Y/n,” Vlad says regaining your attention instantly. “Kill. Them.” Your humanity vanished. With a hiss, you turn to attack Jason when Dick’s voice reaches your ears.

“You’re not expendable,” Dick states. You don’t look at him but it’s obvious you’re listening. “You mean so much more to us. We’re here for you and we’re not leaving without you. You’re one of us, not this creature he’s turned you in,”

“You know how much I hate agree with Dickwad,” Jason chuckles. “But on this, I do. Look, we’ve both changed over the years and that’s fine but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re brothers and you’re our sister. You went against father and killed the Joker for me. You beat the shit out of that one girl that cheated on Dick. You’ve stood up against Bruce for both of us on more than one occasion. You’ve always been there but now we’re here for you. It’s time to come home. Come with us,”

“Kill them!” Vlad shouts. Your eyes screw shut as you struggle between obeying Vlad and listening to your brothers. Realization hits Tim like a freight train.

“Don’t listen to him!” Tim encourages you. It finally made sense. All the vampires they came across were unnaturally loyal to Dracula. It was like they had forgotten their human lives and followed him. He figured it was just instinct but it was something more than that. Vampires were connected to their creator, Dracula, on a level they had severely underestimated. Tim theorized that Dracula had gotten to you, changed you, and manipulated/forced you to follow him. You had to follow his orders but that didn’t mean you wanted to.

You showed multiple signs of humanity. Dick and Jason were you’re anchors to your human side. If you could fight against Dracula’s orders then you could sever the connection. If that happened, getting you back to the manor and cured would be much easier.

“He’s the one who doesn’t care! He’s the one who believes you’re expendable, not us! We care about you, we’ll help you but you have to break his hold over you!” Tim said as clearly but as quickly as he could.

“Shut up!” Vlad shouted turning toward him. Before he could attack, Jason launches a wooden stake at him. It doesn’t kill him but it knocks them to the ground. “Kill them, Y/n! Kill them right now!”

You groan. Your hands grip your hair and begin to pull. You felt as if your head was being torn apart. You fall to your knees. A large part of you wanted to kill them, needed to kill them. Yet a big enough part of you didn’t.

“Y/n,” Jason says, softly. He slowly knelt a few feet in front of you. 

“Kill me,” You whimper, looking into his eyes. “I can’t hold myself back for long,”

“You can,” Jason encourages you. “You’re not going to hurt me, Dick or Tiny Tim,” Tim scowls but remains silent. “You’re Y/n Y/L/N. You were turned when you were 18 years old but you’re 24. You’re favorite food is y/f/f and your favorite show is y/f/s. You always let me sneak into your room if I was having trouble sleeping and you always helped me through the bad days just like I did for you. We look after each other, we have since we met each other. That didn’t stop when I died and it isn’t going to stop since you’re a vampire,”

In the corner of your eye you see Dick and Tim going to end Vlad. Something within you snaps. You snarl and before you know it you’re protecting your master. Before you can reach Dick and Tim, something pierces your shoulder. You look down to see a similar grappling hook hooked into you.

You gasp as Jason yank you back. You snarl and struggle but Jason is able to fight against you allowing Dick and Tim to destroy your master.

“No! NO!” You scream. The pain of your bond to Dracula is excoriating. You scream and writhe on the ground.

“It’s alright sis,” Jason whispers, knocking you out with a special tool they used on all the other vampires. “You’re safe now,” He whispers picking you up. “How do we cure her?”

“We have a serum at the manor,” Tim says,

“Bring it to my place,” Jason ordered. Tim goes to argue but Dick lays a hand on his shoulder. Dick nods and Jason nods back.

****

When you wake up you have the worst hangover known to man. You groan, your hand slapping your forehead. You try to think about what could have given you this feeling but you get nothing. Until everything comes rushing back to you a minute later.

All the killings, Dracula and the whole vampire ordeal hardly phases you. What makes your heart quench is the man you saw before you passed out.

“Jason!” You cry out, sitting up quickly. The motion causes you to groan again.

“Easy, easy,” You’re gently pushed back onto the bed. “Welcome back to the land of the living,” Opening your eyes, you look at Jason. You really look at him. He still has that spark, that anger in his eyes but there’s also relief and happiness. You lift your hand and gently caress his face. He leans into your touch.

“You’re real,” You whisper.

“Yeah, I’m real,” He whispers, tears coming to his eyes. “I thought I lost you there for a second,” He laughs.

“I did lose you,” You whimper. 

“I know, I’m so sorry,” Jason gently pushes you over and climbs into the bed. You instantly hug him with all your might. “I’m here now and I won’t be leaving your side for a damn long time,”

“You saved me,” You whisper. “You, Dick and Tim,” You whimper the tears coming down your face.

“You just got a little lost for a while,” Jason muttered. “You would do the same if any one of us was in your position,” You nod, snuggling into his chest. He rubs circles into your back. “Everything’s going to be ok, now... You’re cured, Dracula’s dead and you’re with me,”

“Can I stay with you?” You whisper, looking up at him.

“I thought I told you that you weren’t leaving my side for a long time,” Jason smirks. “We have 6 years to catch up on and I need my big sis to keep my head on straight,”

“I need you too, Jason...” You whisper. “God, do I need you,” You snuggle back into his chest. He kisses the top of your head and holds you even tighter. “I was so lost without you,”

“Shh.. You don’t have to worry about living without me again,” Jason promises.

“Good... Because next time, you die I die,” Jason smirks.

“We’re going to be one kick ass team,” Jason mutters. You grin closing your eyes. The both of you got the first real sleep you had since Jason died.

[dying-suffering-french-stalkers]

For the ship game: prime numbers for Lupin x Jigen!

HERE YOU GO GHOST, THIS WAS FIVE PAGES IN A GOOGLE DOC AND TOOK ME SEVERAL HOURS

Under a cut, allegedly, though mobile has been known to just IGNORE THAT. Sorry in advance if this gets goofed for anyone.

2) Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, in any place?

Lupin, obviously (and canonically). Just the horniest man you ever did see. Jigen knows what he wants and when he wants it, but he has difficulty keeping up with Don Juan Triumphant over there. Lupin is also far less picky about locations and times than Jigen is. Jigen still has a FEW standards, thank you, and also a stronger sense of self-preservation. Lupin sometimes tries to start shit in public or during a heist and Jigen is like “I REALLY, REALLY APPRECIATE THE SENTIMENT BUT CAN WE NOT.” The closest to public anything Jigen will put up with is bar bathroom/back-alley hookups, and he doesn’t really tend to do that with Lupin or Goemon since they have secondary locations far more suited to such activity (or at least the damn Fiat, if nothing else). That said, Jigen is a spiteful bastard and gets a huge kick out of riling Lupin up over the walkie-talkie during jobs. He is more than happy to get jumped by his boss after they make it out and secure the loot.

3) Who is more into taking showers/baths together? Who tries to make it relaxing and who tries to make it sexy time?

Honestly, while I can totally see Lupin and Jigen doing this with their other partners, I have a harder time imagining the two of them doing this together and I’m not sure why. I feel like these two on their own both like the privacy bathing gives them, whether it’s to clean wounds or decompress from a job.

On the occasions when they do bathe together, I feel like it’s an unspoken kind of thing, where the other person quietly slips in the tub/shower with them and they just don’t bother protesting. I think Lupin is more likely to join Jigen in his bathing, but if Jigen is sleepy enough or lonely enough he might do the same. There is a lot of mutual appreciation of scars. They’ve definitely smoked in the tub before (Intricate Rituals™). Lupin is probably more likely to get handsy, because Lupin, but two can play that game if Jigen is feeling it, and also Jigen gives Lupin a run for his money in the staring department. No hat to hide behind now.

Lupin has also 100% done the whole “Hey Jigen, do you know if—stop screaming, it’s me—do you know if we have any more instant dashi? Goemon’s gonna slice up the sofa if I ruin soba night again.”

5) Who sleeps on the couch when they get into a fight?

Jigen, but to be fair, he canonically sleeps on the couch most nights (possibly to keep an eye on the door, possibly because he knows that place, at least, is always “acceptable” for him to occupy). It’s an odd night if you don’t see Jigen out there with a glass and a bottle of scotch and an old movie on TV. The main difference is that if he and Lupin have been fighting, he won’t bother with the formality of a glass and the TV will be playing far louder or not at all.

7) [A] Who said “I love you” first? And [B] who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?

I hate to take the coward’s way out here, but I think the answers are A) either one - depends on the headcanon/fic/version of the characters I’m feeling that day, and B) both.

For A, they’re both the sort of people to show their love—true love/affection, not just flirtation/infatuation, LUPIN—in action, not words. Lupin is a man of many words to a fault, generous with his verbal and physical affection, so Lupin has to find a way to make sure Jigen knows he means it and how he means it. He may rightly fear that Jigen won’t believe him (or else believe him but take it platonically) if he says “I love you” to his face, so first he’ll show him through every little action he can. Jigen is a man of few words to a fault, so saying personal stuff like that out loud is both a last resort and the point of no return. Getting him to say it at all, unambiguously, and while sober is like pulling teeth. Once one of them finally spits it out, though, I think the other is quick to reciprocate (again, if they manage to say it clearly and under good circumstances and not ambiguously/while drunk or wounded/etc. They’re both idiots and selective cowards so this is a big if). The mutual relief is palpable and immediately followed by sex, because they’re both (horny) idiots and selective cowards who do not want to talk about Emotions and Personal Things any more than strictly necessary.

For B, ohhhh man, if it isn’t that same emotional avoidance coming to bite them in the asses! Looks like talking about deep emotions is strictly necessary after all! You know it’s a Big Important Argument for them if this is what it comes to. This is going to tie in somewhat to the answers for 11, 17, and 23, so stay tuned. “Because I love you” coming from either of them should give the other pause, but if they are angry enough, they’re both quite likely to storm off after that declaration anyway. They’ll come back and have a real discussion later, but the shock or frustration of that arresting declaration dropped in the middle of an argument is something neither of them are great at dealing with. Hearing that from Jigen might be enough to stop Lupin in his tracks, but Lupin might also be so dead-set on something that he’ll steamroll right over it even if he knows he’ll regret it later. Hearing that from Lupin probably only makes Jigen angrier because of his awful self-esteem (see answers 11 and 23), and even if he’s been working on that, his instinct will be to snarl “Yeah, right” and storm out the door. I like to think that one day they are able to get to the heart of the argument sooner (because this is almost always it) and work on the behaviors that worry the other so much, but alas, they are a mess.

11) Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?

Once again, either of them depending on the day.

As you mentioned in your JiGoe post, Jigen says it partly because he thinks it’s funny (“You have a crush on me, Boss? Fuckin’ embarrassing”) but also because he’s fishing for validation. His self-esteem/confidence in anything outside his shooting skills is shit and he still can’t quite believe that Lupin isn’t lying/he hasn’t conned Lupin into something. This is rather overestimating his conning skills and underestimating his many good qualities, but, well, genuine, lasting affection is kinda new for him. Much to Jigen’s annoyance, Lupin figures out exactly what Jigen’s up to after the first few times and answers him seriously (and positively) instead of continuing the “joke”. Lupin loses patience for this particular tactic over time but I like to think that Jigen finally begins believing in the affection, too, so it comes up less and less and one day Jigen might actually play the quip straight without the self-deprecation. Ideally he would just take the damn compliment, but it’s LupJig and banter is one of their love languages.

When Lupin says it, he typically is playing the quip straight and fondly giving Jigen shit for showing an Emotion and motherFUCKER I just realized Jigen could probably be considered a tsundere. I hate this. ANYWAY. Jigen then immediately snarks back that yes, Lupin, considering we’ve been travelling the world together and actively fucking for X years, it’d be damn awkward if I didn’t by now.

13) Who initiates duets? and who is the better singer?

Lupin absolutely initiates duets, or rather, he tries to; whether or not Jigen actually chimes in is another matter entirely. Lupin is also the better singer by far (when he’s sober). He loves singing along to pop and rock in the car (“This is the reason God invented America!”).

Much as it would please me personally to give Jigen a smooth operatic baritone, there’s no way in hell he sounds good after smoking a pack a day for twenty-something years. I think Jigen can carry a tune and he’s a decent hummer and whistler, but his singing voice isn’t spectacular.

Lupin occasionally succeeds in getting Jigen to join him in car karaoke, though as in all things, Lupin is much louder and more impassioned. Jigen frequently hums along under his breath, though, and Lupin loves hearing Jigen’s a cappella renditions of classical music (complete with hand motions).

When Queen starts becoming popular, car singalongs become much more involved because it’s MY silly headcanon and You Are Not Immune To Queen. Jigen cried the first time he heard “Bohemian Rhapsody” and he will kill Lupin if he ever tells Goemon or, God forbid, Fujiko. When the four of them are in the car it’s a full-on Wayne’s World headbanging party. (Pops is the drunk guy they pick up along the way. Also, seeing Payless Shoe Source in this clip dealt me psychic damage.)

Lupin and Jigen (and Goemon) are the living embodiment of the drunk friends singing “Sweet Caroline” post, and Jigen is specifically this version of “Sweet Caroline”.

17) Who is more protective?

THAT IS THE QUESTION, HUH, GHOST? Jigen’s job and, to a certain degree, raison d’être is protecting Lupin, but (to cheat slightly and quote your own DM to me), if you think Lupin won’t raze everything to the ground to keep Jigen (and the others) safe, you don’t know him at all. They are this meme to the deepest of faults. They are both so desperately afraid of losing what they have (and in Lupin’s case, this is tinged with a bonus, even more concerning “what is his”) that they will go full self-sacrificing, scorched-earth policy. This is, in fact, my favorite reason for Lupin to do the worst thing he does: fake his own death to protect his partners. Lupin never stops to think that maybe, JUST MAYBE, he should trust his partners to fake grief and keep the secret long enough for whoever’s on their tail to give up or let their guard slip. Lupin is willing to hurt them in an effort to protect them, so in that way, I suppose Lupin is the “most” “protective”. Jigen’s self-abasement to the point of unhesitating and perhaps even hasty sacrifice is painful, too, but Jigen would never dare go to the same level of deception (except in Goodbye, Partner, apparently? But 1) I haven’t watched it yet and 2) while awful, I still feel like fake betrayal pales in comparison to very convincingly (AND MAYBE REPEATEDLY) faked death).

19) Who drives and who has the window seat?

They split driving duties, but Lupin genuinely loves driving and Jigen is more than happy to prop his feet on the Fiat’s dashboard and smoke or sleep the hours away.

23) Who thinks they are not good enough for the other’s love? and who’s more afraid of losing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry?

HERE WE GO AGAIN!!! I think the answer to all of these is ultimately Jigen, but that’s not to say Lupin doesn’t share the exact same worries.

Jigen has a very difficult time believing that his partners’ love is genuine, and since Lupin is the one he knew first, that’s where it first manifests. Jigen has had very, very few good romantic connections in his life (if any). He doesn’t know what Lupin could possibly see in an older, prickly hired killer with a drinking problem and a head full of demons. He’s willing to believe that Lupin keeps him around for his skills, for protection, and for sex, sure, but anything past that? Doubtful. This ties into the other two parts of the question: Jigen is afraid that if he fails in his sharpshooting or his protection, he will be cut out of the gang, or worse, Lupin will end up dead because Jigen slipped up. As mentioned in question 17, Jigen cannot bear to lose Lupin and he would never forgive himself if he believed it was somehow his fault. Accordingly, Jigen takes “failure” that exceeds his usual margin of error very seriously in the early days. Later, he is better about this, but the worst-case scenario still stands.

Lupin, on the other hand, has had plenty of romantic connections, some good, some bad, though it is perhaps telling that Fujiko is his longest romantic relationship other than Jigen. He is afraid that if he doesn’t put on the world’s greatest show at all times, no one will give a rat’s ass about some scrawny grandson of an old French thief (or the perhaps unwanted/disliked son of a ruthless crime lord, because I love that fanon for Lupin the Second). He must live up to and indeed surpass the previous Lupins, he must shower his partners in money and adventure, he must always, always come out on top no matter how south the plan goes, or else what is the point of him? It takes time for him to turn his persona off for more than a few seconds, to let the quieter, sometimes contemplative side that slips through the cracks come to rest out in the open. Years down the road, Jigen finally gets up the courage and the words to tell Lupin that he would love him no matter what he did or where he went, even if that was nothing and nowhere. And again, see question 17 re: losing Jigen.

29) Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires?

Lupin is by far the most guilty of this. He’s constantly pulling dumb shit, whether that be for World-Renowned Gentleman Thief reasons or just He May Be Stupid reasons. Case in point: the tunnel scene in The First, after which Jigen was duly impressed. Fortunately for Lupin, Lady Luck must be head over heels for him because the bastard keeps surviving, but sometimes even she can’t save him from medical consequences. Jigen bulk-ordered “Stupid Hurts” band-aids specifically for Lupin. Jigen’s bad choices are more likely to literally backfire on him, but Goemon more than makes up for Jigen’s slack in the Crazy Stunt department.

[chocolate1721]

Ok salt ahead. Mostly Bustier salt. Also bio! Dad Bruce. Also Damian is older than Marinette in this AU.

Parent/teacher conferences at DuPont.

Tom and Sabine are out of the country due to a bakery contest or something. Caline Bustier forgets. She is waiting for the Dupain-Cheng’s in her class room, but they are late. When the door finally opens, she comes face-to-face with Bruce Wayne, who is standing next to Marinette.

Caline is suprised to see a stranger. She turns to Marinette and lets her disappointment show. She asks Marinette (in a condescending tone) where her parents are). Marinette is confused, she told Bustier last week that her parents were going to be out of the country and her biological father would be attending the conference.

Bruce is shocked at how this teacher is treating his daughter.

Bustier turns to Bruce. “Ok since Marinette dragged you here, you can stay, but Marinette I am very disappointed in you. I will be contacting your parents to set up another meeting. This behavior needs to be addressed.” Caline doesn’t ask for any identification, before launching into everything she deems wrong with Marinette. From resigning from the class rep position, to not dropping everything to help her classmates who are “too busy” to do it themselves, to not giving out free commissions and pasteries.

Bruce has knoticed how his daughter has been acting different. Less cheerful and more reserved. It’s like she has given up on something, fundamentally. . . Marinette. She has been acting like a moody Robin.

When Sabine called and asked him to watch Marinette while her and Tom were away he jumped at the chance. . . . . along with his sons.

He was determined to find out why his daughter was soooo batesque.

After listening to this woman he was horrified. This teacher blames a student for her parents not showing up to a meeting, when she was informed of their departure we’ll in advance, but simply forgets! Then scolds said student for hiring a fake parent. Then, without proof of identification, proceeds to give private information to the stranger she believes has no relationship with the student! She is also pushing his daughter into responsibilities that she has no obligation to perform, and encouraging others to take advantage of Marinette.

Bustier then turns to Bruce and starts scolding him. “How could you let yourself be hired by a child to pretend to be their parent?” She tells him that Marinette is a troubled girl. She needs to own up to her mistakes and face the consequences.

Bruce caught Marinette flinch and curl in on herself from the corner of his eye. He slammed his hands on the desk separating him and the teacher. “Marinette would you please step out of the room for a bit?” He asks her gently. She knows that look in his eyes and is out the door faster than you can say ‘spot on’. She is heading to the bakery when she sees her brothers in the courtyard.

Meanwhile Bruce is tearing Bustier apart. From how she treats her students, to how she can’t remember a simple note stating Marinette’s parent would be away and someone else would be at the meeting in their stead.

Bustier was pleased when the man in front of her sent Marinette away. She believed she got through to him and he would come clean. She is disappointed though when he starts to berate her for “mistreating” and “manipulating” Marinette. When there is a lull in his rants she interjects “well, since you’re not actually Marinette’s father this really isn’t any of your business.”

Bruce was struck dumb at this teacher. She just dismissed him as if she didn’t just give him enough information to destroy Marinette and/or her family. “Now if you excuse me I need to contact Marinette’s parents for a parent/teacher conference.” She said.

Bruce was colder than ice as he left the classroom. Before he exited the room he turned towards the teacher “you will be hearing from my lawyers”.

Bruce started the lawsuit as soon as he stepped out of the room. By the time he made it to the courtyard, his lawyers where finding more and more evidence of why Bustier should never be allowed to teach anyone. The suit would be done by the time Marinette goes to class next.

Bruce wanted to be there when the teacher got served, however he got caught up in a meeting, but he had his boys go and film everything and send it to him. He just never thought he would get more than the teacher’s reaction.

Tim and Jason were both videoing, they wanted to make sure they captured everything. Dick and Damian followed because someone had to keep their brothers from doing something stupid.

As their lawyer and they were walking up the stairs to Marinette’s classroom they could hear a teacher scolding a student. They looked into Marinette’s class and saw her teacher, the same teacher who they were suing, scolding marinette for hiring someone to pretend to be her dad. Her teacher was doing this infront of the entire class. Dick had to hold Damian back from doing something he would, most likely never regret, but marinette wouldn’t be happy about it.

Lila pipped up claiming to practically be adopted by Bruce. Stating how what Marinette did would anger them greatly, and how no matter how much Lila would beg them not to, they would sue her.

Lila: they absolutely hate liars. After all, that’s why Bruce’s parents were killed. Someone lied about them.

Just when the boys were going to burst through the door a bang made them stop. Marinette had sprung from her seat and tackled Lila. Marinette punched her, kicked her, did anything she could think of. How dare this little tramp lie about her grandparents. How dare she. Her father has never gotten over their deaths, she refused to stand by and let this two bit conwoman use her father’s pain to gain popularity.

The boys are suprised that their even tempered, sweetheart of a sister is . . . . this skilled at fighting.

Marinette’s classmates are trying to separate her and Lila, but they can’t get ahold of her, she is too slippery. The boys finally snapped out of their trance and quickly intervened. Damian picked his sister up and held her back. Dick was trying to calm her down. Tim and Jason where still recording everything. Once Mari was calm enough for Damian to take over, Dick spun around on the teacher. He ripped her apart. Why didn’t she try to help? Why did she humiliate a student by scolding them infront of their peers? Why do you let a liar go unpunished while his sister is constantly being reprimanded on things that aren’t her fault?

Bustier doesn’t know who these people are but they have some nerve busting into her class room and being rude. She is a great teacher.

Tim gets the class back in their seats, with the exception of Marinette, and then turns to their lawyer, who has been watching on in horror. Tim motions to Bustier and the lawyer clears their throat. “Caline Bustier you are being served.”

Bustier is shocked. Who would ever sue her. “What!? What for!”

“For mental abuse, child neglect, enabling” the lawyer continues on with the list.

Bruce pauses the video and lets out a sigh. It looks like he has a few more lawsuits to make.

[heyitsani]

This Could Be the End of Everything Chapter 1

@jaydick-week Day 4: ABO Dynamics

Word Count: 7,249

Rating: Mature

Warnings: non-con (but not sexual), canonical character death

Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson

Summary: Jason's presentation takes something precious from Dick and they have to face the consequences in more ways than one.

Notes: Okay just a bit of background/history. In this "world" pack dynamics are important, but have taken a backseat since society doesn't require them anymore. But back when they were lead by more primitive needs and desires, each pack was led by one omega and alpha who were more powerful than the others. True Alphas and True Omegas, as they came to be called, were respected due to their power. But as society shifted and packs began settling in single places, Trues became more and more rare because the need for the powerful protectors was not needed.

Now they're considered precious and while True Alphas are more common than True Omega's, both are considered rare. And it's especially rare to have one of each in a pack. And when a True Alpha gives a mating bite to a True Omega, the bond cannot be broken without one or both of them dying (whereas a normal pair could easily break a bond if need be). And should one of the pair die, the other would become a shade of themselves for the rest of their days.

You can also read it on AO3 here

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

It was rare that Dick found himself at the manor these days.  The argument with Bruce that ended up with Robin being stripped from Dick and the one that followed when Bruce gave it to Jason without telling him first were still two excessively big bridges that had been burned.  And had yet to be rebuilt.  Although, if you asked Dick, he would say they would never be rebuilt.  Too much pain in those wounds.

But there were moments, like currently, when Bruce called and Dick answered because he couldn’t not help. Not when Bruce was able to find it within himself to ask for it to begin with.  Even if Dick wasn’t fooled and was well aware of the fact that Alfred had cajoled him into calling his eldest ward.

A fact that Alfred was more than happy to confirm as Dick sat in the kitchen with the older man and sipped on a cup of his favorite Earl Gray tea.

“Master Richard, would you please take this cup up to Master Jason?  He has not come down for his usual after school cup and I fear he has gotten caught up in his reading again,” Alfred set a tray down on the counter near Dick, glancing at the other man.

“Sure, Alfie,” Dick smiled. He set his own cup down on the tray, ignored the smile that Alfred gave him at the motion, and picked the whole tray up before heading out of the kitchen.

The manor was quiet, as it usually was at this time of day.  When Dick had lived within its walls, there had been noise from wherever it was he had found himself.  The need for movement or noise was embedded deep within his skin from his years in the circus and no matter how old he got, he could never shake it.  Jason was much more like Bruce in his need for peace and solitude.  Dick liked to tease Jason that he was adopted simply for the fact that he was much more of a Wayne then the unadopted Dick ever was.

Jason only ever scowled at that, but it made Dick snigger all the same.

Rounding the corner and making his way to Jason’s room, Dick balanced the tray on one hand and knocked. “Hey Jay?”  He listened a moment, letting his omega scent the air a moment for anything out of the normal when no answer came.  When nothing but Jason’s natural scent hit him, perhaps a bit stronger than usual, Dick deemed it safe to open the door.  What greeted him was not something he had been equipped to deal with.

The growl surprised him, but not nearly as much as the scent of alpha that smacked him right in the senses.  And how the hell hadn’t he noticed that through the door?  It was so strong now that the door was open, and he had stepped into the room.

But he didn’t get the chance to process what it all meant before he was being pushed into the closest wall and the tray he had been holding was crashing down onto the floor. It made enough noise that he knew Alfred and Bruce, who was working in his study, would hear it and come running. They wouldn’t come quick enough to stop Jason from doing what Dick could see was burning in his eyes.

“True Alpha,” Dick whispered, eyes going wide.  There was no denying that scent pouring off the newly presented alpha pressing him into the wall.  Jason’s only response was the snarl in Dick’s face and though the omega knew it was probably the stupidest thing he would ever do, he shifted his scent so Jason could smell more than just plain omega.

A scent that Dick worked so hard to hide because he had always expected to be an alpha growing up. He hadn’t even considered omega as a possibility.  If he weren’t an alpha, he would definitely be a beta.  But when he had presented as not only an omega, but a True Omega, his entire world had shifted.  He still struggled with accepting his place in the hierarchy of the world, but he had quickly mastered the skill of turning off the True in his scent, so no one knew outside of the family and a few very select friends.

But the research he had done immediately after his presentation heat had passed had told him one thing over and over: A True Omega can calm a True Alpha when breaching feral while presenting.  And Jason was going down that road, especially since Dick had waltzed into his territory uninvited.

So, he let the True Omega scent come out to play and immediately Jason’s tense hold on Dick loosened and Dick felt his body relax slightly.  “Omega,” Jason whispered, eyes still blown wide with the change.

“Jay, you gotta relax. It’s going to be okay, but you have to relax through it.  Let me go get Bruce.”  At the mention of Bruce, Jason tensed back up and Dick was officially at a loss of what to do.  Did Jason instinctually know Bruce was an alpha?  Did he view Bruce as a threat now?  “Jay?”

“Mine,” the growl was back and something sharp rose in Jason’s scent a mere second before a bright pain hit Dick and he was screaming.

Dick would never know for sure what it was that caused Jason to pull away, but one second Dick was pressed against the wall with Jason’s teeth in the place where his shoulder met his neck and the next he was on the floor, bloody and pressing a hand to the mating bite.

“Oh god, Dick!”  He could hear Jason freaking out, having been pulled out of his haze most likely due to the pain taking over Dick’s scent, but he couldn’t focus on that.  The only thing he could focus on was the burning in the bite and the spark in his chest.

“Jason?!  Dick?!”  Bruce’s voice thundered down the hall along with the sound of his feet rushing their direction, Alfred’s sounding just behind his.  Neither of them answered and only Jason looked over when the two men appeared in the doorway, but he didn’t move from his position just a foot away from Dick, kneeling with his hands hoovering like he wanted to hold onto the omega but knew he shouldn’t.

“I didn’t mean to!  I didn’t-I’m sorry!”  Jason’s voice sounded, accompanied by Alfred’s familiar baritone probably offering words of comfort.  But Bruce kneeling in front of Dick took his focus.  

“Dick?  Dick, I need you to breathe.”  Oh.  Was that why he couldn’t focus?  Yeah, that made sense.  He was disassociating.  “Dick, you need to breathe or you’re going to pass out.  And your state is not helping Jason’s at all.”  Closing his eyes, Dick tried to take a deep breath but found he couldn’t.  “Focus, Dick. Five things you can smell.”

Right, he could do this.

“Your cologne,” he rasped, keeping his eyes closed.  He could feel his hands shaking but tried to focus on scents.  “Shortbread…” A stunted breath.  “Wood polish…my tea…”  Another breath.  “And…and Alfred’s fabric softener.”  He wished he could ask Bruce to touch him, to ground him like a pack alpha should.  But there was a logical voice in his brain telling him he couldn’t.  No one could touch Dick until Jason got himself under control.  The newly presented alpha wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“That’s good Chum. Now four things you can hear.”

Still he kept his eyes closed, pushing his senses out further than this room.  “The kitchen timer, the…the blue jays in the tree out back, the grandfather clock,” he said, struggling to keep his senses out of the room. “Jason’s heartbeat.”

“No, focus on what isn’t caused by the situation or related to it.”

“Your heartbeat.”

“That’s fine. Good.  Three things you can see.”  Carefully Dick opened his eyes and blinked, doing everything he could not to seek out Jason’s eyes.

He glanced everywhere but the spot where Alfred was standing with his hands-on Jason’s shoulders, holding the worried alpha back.  “The tree outside the window.”  He flicked his eyes to the ground.  “The grain in the wood, and the tea on the floor.”  He took a deep breath and glanced at Bruce who was nodding. “Sorry, Alfie,” he muttered, referring to the mess he had made when the tray had dropped.

“It’s quite all right, Master Richard.”

“Two things you can feel. You’re almost there,” Bruce said gently, nodding again.

“The wall behind me.” Dick took another deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling his chest loosen the last bit and his air coming more naturally.  “Pain.” He flinched at the whine that sounded from Jason and cowered under the glare from Bruce.

“Dick.”

“I…the rug…” He tried and Bruce gave him a small smile.

“Last one,” Bruce told him. “One thing you can taste.”

Again, he wanted to say blood, but he didn’t want to make things worse.  Again.  “Lemon cake, from earlier.”

“Good.  Can you stand?  Alfred will take you to get cleaned up.”  Dick thought about whether or not he could stand and figured he probably wouldn’t know for certain unless he tried.  But his brain didn’t seem to want to send the signals to legs to push off the floor and he didn’t want to pull his hand away from the bite mark. He didn’t know if seeing it would set Jason off at all and he didn’t want to risk it.

“I need help,” he whispered, dejected, eyes falling shut again.  There was silence and Dick could smell the hesitation in Bruce’s scent. The conflict.

“Can Jason help you?” Dick knew Bruce was struggling not being able to jump into the comforting father, pack alpha role but he also knew he had to be careful about Jason’s end of things too.  Considering the idea, Dick gave a small nod and seconds later there were hands touching him gently, helping him to his feet.

“I’m so sorry, Dick.  Please, I’m so sorry,” Jason whispered, and Dick opened his eyes to look at the young alpha.  There were tears in Jason’s eyes and he knew Jason felt terrible.  He knew because it pulsed loudly in their bond and scented the air like fog.  But Dick didn’t know how to respond without breaking down again.  So, he just leaned against the wall and let Jason mutter out his stream of apologies.

“Master Jason, I need to take care of Master Richard.  Will you be all right for me to help him to his room?”  Jason’s eyes widened in panic at the suggestion and Dick felt a little bad. The new instincts were hard to handle on a normal basis, but throw in mate instincts on top of that?  Dick couldn’t imagine.

Reaching forward with the hand not holding the mark, Dick gripped the front of Jason’s shirt.  “You can help me to my room, but I need to process, and I need to breathe so you’ll have to leave me there.  With Alfred.”  He was trusting his omega to comfort Jason’s alpha right then because there was no way Dick could do it.  Not when he was desperately in need of comfort himself.  He needed to not have to be the strong one and that wasn’t going to happen while Jason was in the room.

Because the last thing he wanted was to make Jason feel even worse for something that Dick was upset about but not mad at Jason for.

Dick watched Jason take a deep breath before nodding.  “Okay, I can do that.”  And Dick knew he was trying to steel himself for the moment he had to walk out of Dick’s room and leave him with the beta.  But if there was one thing Jason had perfected, it was doing something he didn’t want to do simply because it needed to be done.

Glancing at Bruce, Dick found the older man watching the pair with his well-practiced Batman face. It was one he had never been able to read, no matter how many times he had tried over the last eleven years. But he did know that it was strictly reserved for situations he wasn’t too sure how to handle.  Or situations that compromised who he was as an alpha. This was probably both of those times. His youngest, newly adopted son had presented as an alpha when no one was prepared and managed to claim his eldest, unadopted ward before anyone could stop him.  And now he had to manage the new alpha when his instincts were telling him to care for his pack omega.  And not just any omega, but a True Omega who pulled out the protective instincts more due to the precious nature of having one in your pack.

But Dick couldn’t help Bruce right then.  He couldn’t be who he always was, the one who helped others back onto their feet when they fell, because it had been him who had fallen this time.  And for once in his life he just needed to allow himself to take care of himself.  

“You can take your leave now, Master Jason.  I do believe you and Master Bruce have much to discuss,” Alfred spoke gently but with an undercurrent of authority that most betas were never able to accomplish. Alfred though, he was the true patriarch of this family and anyone who knew them knew it.  

Dick didn’t look at Jason as he stepped away from where he had helped Dick sit on the edge of the elder’s bed.  He didn’t look up from the spot on the floor he had kept his gaze until the door shut firmly behind Jason, shutting his scent out along with it.  It was then when Dick allowed himself to crumple a little. Under the watchful eye of Alfred, it felt safe to do so.  He could hide his face in his hands, ignoring the blood on his one hand, as he silently cried.

Thanks to the scent blockers on his room, specifically installed for his heats, Jason wouldn’t be able to smell his new mate’s distress.  He would, however, be able to feel it through the bond but there was nothing Dick could do about that now.

A hand fell to the back of his neck and squeezed gently.  “Indeed, Master Richard.  Indeed, this is quite the situation.”  And that just made Dick sob harder into his hands, falling sideways into Alfred as the older man gathered the nineteen-year-old in his arms.  It wasn’t the comfort he had been seeking since Jason had sunk his teeth into him, but it would do for now.  It would have to do for now because Bruce had to take care of the new alpha.  

He couldn’t be certain how much time had passed before his tears dried up and Alfred got to work on cleaning and bandaging the new bite.  It wasn’t common practice for the bite to be covered, usually healing quickly on their own, the fact that it was given against Dick’s will made the healing process a bit different.  Slower. Mostly because Dick’s omega was bucking against the idea of this alpha taking something from him without asking, without proving that he could be a good alpha for the omega.  While the laws of old had long ago been changed and Dick was just as worthy of a pack and society member as any alpha or beta, the instinct to be provided for would always be there.

Dick hated it.

He was an adult and he could take care of himself.  He didn’t need to be wooed and courted.  He didn’t need someone to provide for him.  His omega disagreed, sadly.  The True Omega knew that he needed an alpha who was strong, who could protect and love and worship Dick the way he deserved.  That was the part that was howling right now, wanting to rage against the bite and break it.  But that wasn’t an option.

“Alf, what are we going to do?  I can’t break this.  I know you and Bruce could smell it.  He’s a True Alpha,” Dick whispered, looking at the man currently turning down his bed so Dick could crawl into the comfort there.  

Alfred sighed and straightened, frowning.  “We will have to figure this out.  Get some rest, Master Richard.  I will go speak to Master Bruce and send him in here as soon as possible.”  Dick could see the question in Alfred’s eyes and nodded his head, silently admitting that he wanted Bruce there.  “In you go,” he was waved into the bed and remained motionless as the covers were pulled up to his shoulders.  It reminded him of when he had been a boy in a stranger’s home.  

“Can you…”  Dick stopped Alfred from leaving for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what it was he wanted to say.  Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes.  “Can you tell Jay I’m not mad.  I don’t want him to think I’m mad.”

“I will pass the message along.  Get some rest.”

The sound of the door opening and closing was all he heard before the silence of the room fell over him. And though he thought there was no way he would fall asleep right then; he was out before he could really process anything that had happened.

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

Jason shot to his feet from the chair in the kitchen when Alfred entered.  The elder looked tired but gave Jason a gentle smile and a pat to his shoulder before guiding him back into the chair across from Bruce.

“He is asleep,” Alfred relayed, and Jason felt a surge of relief.  He didn’t know if it was because of how stressed Dick had seemed at the entire altercation or because of the bond itself, but he was glad to hear the omega was able to fall asleep.  Jason wasn’t sure he’d be sleeping for the next week.  “He also asked me to pass along that he was not mad at you Master Jason. He was very adamant about that fact.”

The whine that came from his throat surprised everyone in the room, Jason most of all.  And in his embarrassment and guilt, he buried his face in his hands.

“Jason.”  Bruce’s voice sounded far off, and the usual need to obey didn’t come to him, but Jason took a deep breath and raised his head to look at his adoptive father all the same.  “None of us are angry with you.  The presentation is a lot.  The instincts are hard to deny.  Throw in the rank of True Alpha and you’ll find them even harder to deny.”

“You must allow yourself some grace, Master Jason,” Alfred spoke up.  Jason turned to look at the elder beta and frowned.  How could he allow himself grace when he had taken something from Dick against the older man’s will?  Something that he hadn’t earned.  Something the Dick hadn’t seemed keen on giving anyone, from what Jason had seen when he watched the omega interact with other people.  He held himself away from others, he had learned how to pull in his scent to smell just like a regular omega, and he had learned how to ignore the instincts.  Jason had seen them warring in the man’s sapphire eyes so many times and wondered why he would put himself through that just to make the world believe he wasn’t as special as he was.

But Jason had always seen how special Dick was.  How spectacular he was.  Even before he had known Dick was a True Omega.  And now he was left wondering if he had been able to see it because he would eventually present as a True Alpha.  If his inner alpha was just preparing to be worthy of a compatible omega.

“Fuck,” he muttered, looking away from Alfred.  He didn’t comment on the older man’s lack of chastisement on his swearing, but he knew it was probably just because it was a difficult situation.  “He’s not angry but that doesn’t mean he won’t hate me when he wakes up.”

“That may be,” Alfred said from his place.  “But there is nothing to be done to change the situation.  We can only allow Master Dick to decide what it is he wants to do since the choice was taken out of his hands.”  Jason cringed at the words, even if they were said kindly and without the accusation he deserved.  He deserved the anger and the hate.  He had stolen something that was only Dick’s to give, no one’s to take.  He was no better than the alphas in the Alley.  

Bruce cleared his throat and Jason raised his eyes to look at the man, waiting.  “And no matter what Dick decides, you still have a place in this family.  In this pack.”  And those words made Jason sag in relief.  He hadn’t realized he was worried he would be kicked to the curb for what he had done.  He understood that logically he hadn’t been in control, but the guilt swirled relentlessly around his chest and made him feel as though he was moments away from being kicked to the curb.  “Do you understand, Jaybird?”

Jason nodded.

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

He was just blinking himself awake when there was a soft knock on his bedroom door.  Shifting in bed so he was at least facing the door, he called out a ‘come in’ before snuggling further into the warmth of his bed. The previous days events were enough of a reason for him to not get up and greet the day as he usually did.  He felt he deserved the right to be a little lazy today.  Plus, there was a lot he needed to think about now.

“Dick,” Bruce’s low voice rumbled as the door opened and his alpha stuck his head in the room.  Or his former alpha?  Dick wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen now.  The circumstances weren’t exactly standard.  “How are you feeling today?”

Taking a moment to consider the question, Dick went through how he felt physically.  His neck was still sore but not throbbing like it had the night before, his body ached but not in an overwhelming way, and he was tired but he usually felt that way when he first woke up.  Mentally he was probably worse off.  He could feel Jason’s emotions burning strong in his chest, but he ignored them just as he had done last night.  He himself felt like a wreck.  He felt a lot like he had in the weeks and months following his parents deaths.  He was hurting and he was angry, but mostly he felt lost.  And he wondered how Jason was handling the feedback that he was getting from Dick.

“Better than yesterday,” he finally settled on as an answer.  “How is Jason?”

Bruce sighed and moved further into the room after closing the door behind himself.  He hesitated a moment before sitting on the edge of Dick’s bed, just out of the omega’s reach.  “He is feeling guilty and is rightfully upset about what happened.”  

Dick didn’t say anything, but gave a sad smile in response.  He didn’t blame Jason, even if he was upset the choice had been taken from him against his will.  He understood the overwhelming feeling of a presentation.  And he understood even more that being a True Alpha, or Omega in his own case, amped those instincts up a few more levels.  Dick could be angry to the high heavens, but he couldn’t blame Jason for not being able to immediately control the instincts.

“He was okay with you coming in here?”

Bruce hummed.  “He managed to show some amazing control once the situation had settled a bit after you fell asleep.”  It must have been easier for him once Dick’s emotions had faded in sleep.  “But now we need to discuss what you want to happen.”

Dick frowned and pushed himself upright, cringing at the pull on the bite.  But he had more important things to focus on right then. Because he didn’t want to believe Bruce was suggesting what he thought the man might be suggesting.

“You aren’t kicking him out.”  It wasn’t a question or even a request.  Dick knew his place as pack omega lent a lot of authority, even if Bruce seemed immune to it most day, and he would use every ounce of it to keep Jason from being homeless again.

“I am not kicking him out.” Shoulders sagging in relief, Dick leaned back against the headboard.  “I would never do that to him.  He is pack for as long as he wants to be.”

Dick nodded.  “Good.  That’s…that’s good.”

But that just meant that what needed to be decided was what they were going to do about the mating bite. Dick knew it couldn’t be broken and he knew Bruce knew that too.  He knew that they had no choice in this being final.  But did that mean they had to accept it?  Could they just ignore it for the rest of their lives?  

Could he doom Jason to a life of no mate?  No pups?

“I don’t know what to do, B,” Dick admitted, looking from the comforter to his father figure.  “He’s too young even if I was okay with this. Legally he’s allowed to make the choice, sure.  But I’m nineteen and he’s fifteen.  And that is just…no.”  Dick shook his head firmly and Bruce’s face told Dick that the older man completely agreed. Which didn’t surprise him in the least because Bruce was progressive, but he wasn’t to the point where he felt a fifteen-year-old was mature enough to pick a mate after presenting.  “How much does he understand about the situation?”

“Enough to know there’s no fix,” Bruce admitted.  “I told him some of the things we found when you had presented as a True Omega and what the purpose of the role was in our more primitive states.  But how they had become rarer due to the dynamics of packs changing and evolving with civilization.”  It was more than school taught these days because the rank was so rare for both omegas and alphas, though more so for omegas.  Dick remembered the researching Bruce had done when Dick had presented and felt that gnawing need to know everything there was to know in order to get some control over the situation.

“I should talk to him.”

Bruce’s silence told Dick he agreed but had some reservations about it.  It was a difficult situation and Dick knew Bruce was struggling still.  The night would not have changed that.  And it hadn’t gone past Dick’s notice that the alpha had kept himself physically distanced from Dick.  Which meant Jason might have more clarity, but the instincts were still battling his logic and that meant caution had to be taken.

“Do you want to do that in neutral territory or here in your room?”

Being in his territory would definitely give him the upper ground, but he also knew the smell might be too much for Jason to handle.  It would probably make focusing hard for the new alpha.  But being in neutral territory meant the possibility of being overpowered again.  And that thought scared him more than he wanted to admit.

But maybe there was a compromise.

Glancing over to the French door that opened to his balcony, Dick considered them.  “Have him come here.  We’ll sit on the balcony.”  The scent wouldn’t be as bad once Jason was on the balcony and Dick wouldn’t feel like he was unsafe.  Bruce gave a nod and stood from the edge of the bed, looking down at Dick with that all too familiar unreadable expression.  “What?”

For a quick moment, Dick thought Bruce might actually open up and be honest with his emotions, but then the man gave a grunt and headed out of the room.  Predictable, Dick thought as he carefully got out of the bed and made his way stiffly to his bathroom.  He knew he would have time for a quick shower and that since the scent of last night’s emotions were still clinging to him, he definitely needed it. So he quickly washed himself off with the scentless soap the entire manor was filled with, silently missing the soft lavender soap he used back at his apartment, and got dried off.  

He was just pulling on a pair of worn sweats and a t-shirt when a familiar knock sounded on the door and Alfred entered.

“Ah, Master Dick, please hold off on the shirt for a moment.  I would like to have a look at your neck.”  Dick nodded and pulled the shirt off his arms as he sat down on the edge of the bed so Alfred could take a look under the bandage that he had replaced after his shower.  “How do you feel this morning?”

Dick thought about what he said to Bruce earlier about being better today and whether or not he could get away with that with the same.  Not likely. “Sore and stiff.  The shower helped some, but I’m still aching,” he admitted.  The older man remained silent as he looked over the bite before applying a salve and putting another fresh bandage on it.

“You may put your shirt on now.  Master Jason will be here shortly, I’m sure.”  Dick sighed and tugged the shirt on over his head, remaining on the bed.  “Not that I believe I need to give this warning, but do be gentle with the young master.  He has been distraught all night.”

Dick looked up at Alfred with a frown.  If the circumstances were different, he probably would have cracked a joke about Alfred’s sleepytime tea that Bruce was forced to drink from time to time.  But this wasn’t a joke and it didn’t feel like one. Not even for him, the king of puns. Instead he just nodded and looked down at the hardwood floors as Alfred gave the back of his neck a squeeze and then left.

He stayed there, lost in his thoughts and emotions until a soft, hesitant knock sounded on his door. With a deep breath, Dick stood and went over to his balcony doors and opened them wide.  He reveled in the gentle morning breeze that came through for just a moment before turning and telling Jason to come in.

Dick watched the door open slowly before a head of dark hair poked through and looked inside.  “Dick?”  The sound of Jason’s voice made his heart lurch.  He had never heard the teen sound so uncertain before.  Since the first moment they had met, the kid had been all stubborn pride and defiance.  Dick had actually liked that about him, hoping Jason would give Bruce a taste of his own medicine.  But it was nerve wracking to hear this side of him.  Unsettling.  

“Hey Jay,” Dick responded, drawing the teen’s eyes to him.  Jason stopped midway into the room and the door fell closed behind him, causing him to jump slightly.  “Let’s go out on the balcony.”  He got a quick nod in return and Jason quickly walked around the bed and toward where Dick was waiting.  Dick didn’t need the new bond to tell that Jason was nervous about what Dick was about to say to him, that he was trying to be as small as possible.  And Dick also knew that given a few years time, Jason wouldn’t be very successful that that act.

Grabbing a blanket off the foot of his bed, Dick headed moved out onto the balcony after Jason and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders before sitting down on one of the chairs. The air was just chilly enough, but his goal was more to cover the bandages peeking out from the collar of his shirt after seeing Jason’s eyes flicker to them when he passed Dick.  The sharp pain of guilt had slammed through the bond and Dick figured it was probably best to hide the evidence.

“I’m not mad,” Dick told Jason, looking over at the teen who was slumped in one of the lounge chairs refusing to meet Dick’s eyes.  Dick watched him shift in the chair and waited to see if he would say anything.  “Jay?”

The teen looked up at him for a moment before his gaze skittered away again.  “I know you aren’t,” he muttered, tapping the center of his chest. And yeah, Dick guessed that was fair. But he was definitely going to have to find a way to shut the connection down for privacy.  It would be different if this had been something they had both chosen.  But not even Jason had wanted this to happen.  “I know I said it last night, but I really am sorry, Dick.”

Dick nodded and leaned back in his chair.  “Yeah, but you aren’t solely to blame.  I walked into your territory without warning,” Dick admitted, turning his eyes out to the horizon of trees.  “I triggered it when I tried to use my omega to calm you down.”

“This is not your fault,” Jason growled and when Dick looked over, he found the teen gripping the arm rests of the chair tightly enough that his knuckles were white.  If Dick couldn’t feel the fierce protectiveness Jason was feeling then he might actually worry about a lack of control.  But he knew Jason wasn’t going to turn this emotion on him.

“It’s not yours either.”

But Jason went from the rage to incredulity quickly and looked at Dick like he had just said the stupidest thing he had ever heard.  “Of course it is!  I bit you! I stole that choice from you,” Jason rasped.  But Dick sighed and shook his head.  “I’m no better than the bastard alphas in Crime Alley.”

“No,” Dick growled in return, leaning over his arm rest to look at Jason.  “Do not compare yourself to a full grown alpha who has control over their instincts.  Never do that.  You are nothing like them.”

“But…”

Dick growled and Jason froze.  “No.”

Jason gave him a nod, but Dick knew he didn’t actually believe it.  But Dick wouldn’t allow him to think so lowly of himself.  To compare him to some of the worst people out there. No, that was no something Dick was going to allow.

Silence hung between them for a few moments before Jason shifted and drew Dick’s attention back.  “So what do you want to do?”  The question was asked in a sure voice, but the uncertainty swirling in the bond made it clear that Jason was worried.  But what was he worried about?  Bruce had told the teen he had a home here no matter what.

“I don’t know,” Dick said honestly.  “I’m going to go back to Bludhaven and maybe some space will give us some clarity.  I’m also going to work on shutting this emotional bond between us off.  I think until decisions are made, it would be better for both of us.”  Jason watched him carefully and nodded slowly.  Dick could feel the understanding, but also shame and rejection.  But Dick didn’t comment on them because he doubted Jason actually wanted him to know he felt those things.  “You’re too young for any decisions to be made.”  When Jason opened his mouth to protest, Dick raised a hand to stop him. “I don’t care what the law says.  You’re fifteen.  And even if you had come to me in a year and offered me your bite, I would still say you were too young.”

The indignation that came through from Jason made Dick smile.  He knew this would be the reaction.  No one liked being told they’re too young.  But the fact remained.  Fifteen was too young and the pair of them didn’t really know each other all that well.

“I’m not rejecting you,” Dick offered softly.  Jason frowned, eyebrows merging.  “I can’t, even if I wanted to.  But I’m not accepting either.”

“That’s fair.”

AFTER

“Yeah, Walls,” Dick laughed into his cell as he walked up the stairs of the front of the Manor.  He listened to his best friend question his decision again, wanting to be sure that Dick wasn’t doing this for anyone other than himself and it made Dick’s heart ache.  “I want to do this, Wally.  I want to do it because he’s a good guy and when he’s old enough, he will be a good alpha.  But I also want to do this because fighting it the past year has been exhausting.  I could do it forever, but I don’t want to.”

“If you’re sure, man. I trust you know what you’re doing. Just want to be sure that B-man isn’t pressuring you.”

Sighing, Dick pushed the front door open and headed inside.  “He’s got nothing to do with it, I promise.”

“All right, all right. Look, I gotta buzz but call me after you tell him, yeah?  Maybe take a video?  Love to hold his reaction over that punk for a bit.”  Dick just laughed and agreed before hanging up and heading toward the kitchen, where he was sure Alfred would be.  He was only slightly surprised to find it empty.

That surprise turned into concern when he walked through the remainder of the house and failed to find anyone inside.  And though it was early, Dick figured checking the Cave wouldn’t hurt before he started making phone calls.

With practiced hands, he hit the familiar keys on the piano and made his way through the entrance of the Cave and down the stairs.  Most of the lights were off and only triggered as he made his way further inside, but the glow of the computer gave him enough light to see Alfred watching the monitors.

“Alf?”  He called out, causing the older beta to jump and look over at him in surprise.  That made Dick frown.  Alfred always heard them coming.  Always. “Everything okay?”

His eyes moved from the man’s face to the screens and widened at the sight of the inside of the Batmobile speeding toward an unknown destination.  He hadn’t know Bruce was on a mission, not that Bruce shared that kind of information with him anymore.  Not since Dick had stopped being Robin and had become his own hero. But Jason usually let him know if they were going to be out of town on a mission, even if he didn’t say specifics.

“Master Dick, perhaps you should head back up and I’ll be there in a moment.”

But Dick shook his head and came closer, stopping just to the side and behind the chair Alfred occupied. “Where are they?  What’s going on?”  It was strange for Alfred to try and keep him away from a mission. Strange enough that Dick thought about doing something he hadn’t done in some time.  He thought about opening the bond between him and Jason to try and see what the other was feeling.  They had worked long and hard on closing off that end of themselves so they were not influenced by the other’s emotions and Dick couldn’t remember the last time he had tried to open it up.  “Alfred, what is happening here?”

“Agent A what are the stats?”  Bruce’s Batman tone broke through the speakers and Alfred sighed, turning on the mic that he had apparently turned off at some point.

“He’s still alive.”

He’s still alive.  

“Who is still alive?” Dick whispered, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it.

“Nightwing what are you doing there?  Agent A get him out of there.”  And that cemented it even further.  And it solidified his decision to open the bond.  Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and sought out that spot in his chest that he had tended to so carefully.  One small tug on the thread was enough to pull it wide open, leaving him gasping and gripping the back of the chair to remain upright.

Pain.  So much pain it was staggering.

“What is happening to him?!” He gasped out, letting Alfred lead him to sit in the chair he had just been in himself.  He tried to straighten himself out, but he couldn’t pull himself out of the bent over position he fell in the instant he was seated.  “B…”

He could hear Bruce swear over the comms and Alfred’s hushed reassurances, but the only thing he could really focus on was the pain.  And the fear. So much fear and so much pain. There was something else buried under that, but the two overwhelmed anything else that might possibly be trying the come through.  And even if Dick wanted to, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to close the bond back up.

And since his was open, Jason’s was now open as well.

“Please, B,” Dick begged, lifting his head to look at the screen.  “What’s happening?”

“Joker has him.  I’ll get him back,” Bruce told him and Dick felt his eyes well.  He knew Bruce meant what he said, but he also knew that whatever was happening to Jason was going to kill him if Bruce didn’t reach him soon.  “Agent A, how far?”

“Looks as though two miles, sir,” Alfred’s warm voice sounded as a hand landed in the middle of Dick’s back.  “No change to the vitals.”  Dick’s eyes went to the screen that held Jason’s vitals and he focused on that. He focused on the, although erratic, heartbeat of the man and tried to take a few deep breaths.  “Master Richard, it might be difficult but perhaps you could reassure the young master through the bond?  He won’t be aware that Batman is on his way to help, but perhaps you can help convey it.”

Could he do that?

He had heard of other doing it before, but he had no idea how to send an emotion.  Only how to feel one.  But he could try, right?  Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself further.  He released the grip on the seat of the chair and focused on calming his body.  Once his body was no longer on the ledge of panic, he tried to remember the feeling he had when he had decided he was going to tell Jason that when his 18th birthday arrived that he would be happy to allow the alpha to court him. The warmth it brought him at the thought of Jason trying to prove he was worthy.  The happiness that he felt in the moments he got to spend with Jason over the years, despite the issues he had with Bruce.

And then suddenly he felt something back.  Something more than fear and pain from Jason.  Gratefulness.  An emotion so warm that Dick was sure if he touched his chest, he could feel it burning through him.

But then the fear spiked, and Dick sat straight up, looking at the screen to see Bruce pulling up to a warehouse of some kind.  “Something’s wrong.  Something’s happening.  Bruce!” Dick shouted as Batman’s cowl showed the man getting out of the vehicle and running toward the building just in time for it to explode in flame and debris.  “NO! Jason!”  

[red-jaebyrd]

Somebody That I Used to Know

Here is the long awaited sequel to “My Brother’s Keeper”. Sorry it took so long I was in in the process of moving out of state. Thank you to @brokenhearted-queen for your awesome beta work! I really appreciated it.

This wasn’t part of the plan, but since Jason and his brothers had arrived in Bludhaven nothing had happened according to their plan. They weren’t supposed to make contact with Ric this soon, this fast, but it happened. They had agreed in the beginning to simply sit back, watch him, and make sure he was safe from The Court of Owls.

As far as Jason knew The Court had been trying for years to acquire Dick to their cause to become their Talon. In each encounter they were not successful. Opportunity struck when Dick had been shot in the head. What better opening did an evil organization need to swoop in and take advantage of an asset with amnesia? Jason, Tim and Damian could not allow that to happen, which meant they had to get to Ric first.

The plan eventually was for Jason or Tim to insert themselves into Ric’s life and keep him safe away from the Court.  Acquire the intel they needed to further implicate The Court and figure out a way to reverse the damage they had done to Dick and hopefully fix it.

But then Ric’s cab broke down and Jason had a crisis of conscience. He couldn’t in good faith just leave Ric with a busted cab on the side of the road, so Jason helped and then got invited to have a beer. It was only supposed to be one night; one beer and Jason would disappear and “run into” Ric again at a later time.

Except Jason’s curiosity had got the better of him and he had allowed himself to get attached. All those nights talking with Ric, Jason came away learning new things about himself and  his long lost brother, or rather, a man that looked a lot like his brother, but wasn’t his brother. Jason found that Ric was very easy to talk to. Not that talking to Dick was difficult, but sometimes conversations with Dick would turn into the older man telling Jason what he should have done, rather than just letting Jason talk.

Jason had discovered that he could truly talk to Ric about everything, especially all the shit that had happened to him lately like losing Roy and the fallout with Bruce. To his surprise there was no judgment from Ric, just empathy; no unsolicited advice, just commiseration. It was unsettling yet welcoming as Jason began to realize that this was the exact brotherly relationship he had always wanted with Dick. How fucked up was it that it had to take a bullet to the brain and amnesia to make this happen for both of them.

Before Jason knew it, he and Ric were becoming fast friends. Ric didn’t suspect a thing and everything was going back to the original plan. Only this time, they had an active eye on Ric instead of solely relying on CCTV footage.

All of it was going great until that fucking Talon had attacked them, Jason and Ric had moved together, fought together in sync like no time between them had passed. Like a bullet to the brain hadn’t changed anything between them. Muscle memory had taken over and Ric was not letting up. It had been just like old times all those years ago out in the field as Robin and Nightwing fighting and kicking ass. The victory had shattered when Ric called him ‘Little Wing’.

All the air had left Jason’s lungs as the familiar nickname reached his ears. Ric saw it too as his smile faltered realizing the strange name that had come out of his mouth.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Ric stared wide eyed at Jason, his breaths coming in ragged as the fight had ended. “What just happened? I don’t know why I called you that. Why did I call you that?”

Jason looked around. They were out in the open standing over an unconscious assassin in plain sight. This was not the place to have that conversation.

“Later, not here. It isn’t safe,” Jason said in clipped tones. He grabbed Ric by the shoulder and steered him toward his car. “I promise I’ll explain everything. Get in the car.”

Ric was quiet the whole ride to Jason’s apartment while Jason told him everything; how Jason knew him; how long they had known each other and their connection to Bruce Wayne. But once they got inside, Ric didn’t hold back and Jason couldn’t blame him.

“All that time pretending to be my friend, was it all an act?” Ric snapped.

“No, I wasn’t pretending,” Jason confessed. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Was I just another case to solve, another problem to fix?” Ric shouted, gesturing wildly at Jason and pacing the small space of the living room. “Or was it all just… just a means to an end…to get what you wanted; to get him back.”

The accusation sucked, but it wasn’t that far from the truth. Jason glanced over and saw Tim eavesdropping near the hallway. Jason motioned for Tim to come into the room. Tim hesitantly inched his way slowly next to Jason waving nervously at Ric. Ric ignored him.

“No, it wasn’t like that, Ric. I swear,” Jason sighed, putting his hands out in a calming gesture. He looked over at Tim for help.

“He didn’t lie about his name, only about who he was to you, or used to be to you, to Dick,” Tim rambled talking with his hands and almost hitting Jason in the face. He quickly shoved them in his pockets. “Not everything was a lie; he just didn’t provide specific details about how he knew you.”

Ric glared at Tim causing the teenager to look away in shame. Tim quickly shuffled way from Ric and Jason and sat on the couch.

“Really not helping, Tim,” Jason sighed, running his hand down his face in exasperation.

Ric looked up and finally noticed Damian who was edging into the room from the hallway. Ric’s jaw clenched in anger. “You’re working for him!” he shouted, pointing accusingly at Damian. “Did he…did Wayne hire you to find me?”

Damian shrunk under the accusation. He looked close to tears even with a scowl on his face. This was getting worse by the minute. The boy stomped off to the kitchen out of sight from Ric.

“Bruce didn’t send us. We’re not doing this for him,” Jason scoffed. “Fuck that. We’re doing this for us, for you. You belong with us, not here on your own.”

Ric crossed his arms in defiance. “I’ve been doing just fine on my own before you guys came along and fucked things up.”

“Bullshit!” Jason argued, leveling a look at Ric. “You’re waking up in strange houses, drinking all the time to numb the pain and dull your memory from all the nightmares. I’ve seen it. I’ve heard it from your own mouth what those nightmares do to you. Your memories are coming back and you're scared shitless.”

“Fuck off!” Ric bellowed, stalking away from Jason toward the dining room table. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Jason had hit a nerve. He glanced at Tim and hoped he saw it too. Tim nodded and headed to the desk grabbing a thick file folder from the top drawer.

“You have to believe us when we tell you that you’ve been played by the Court of Owls this whole time,” Tim interjected, handing Ric a thick file folder. “They took your memories of us with a regimen of drugs and deep hypnosis. They knew that taking away your memories of us would make it easier to groom you into their Talon. So if anyone lied to you, it was them, starting with Dr Haas.”

Ric haphazardly flipped through the documents in the file and then set it down on the table in front of him. He jammed the heels of his hands in his eyes. “I can’t. I can’t do this right now.” He crossed his arms angrily and turned to Jason, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I thought you were my friend, but you lied to me.”

“I -” Jason started, but shook his head in frustration.

But that was just it; Jason had never lied to him at least not about anything they had talked about at The Prodigal. He may have omitted names in their discussions as well as certain details concerning their shared history, but Jason was truthful about everything else. All of their conversations were based in truth. Jason made sure he had never lied to him, not like Dick had done all those years ago while he was ‘dead’. It still pissed Jason off whenever he had thought about it.

“You know, I didn’t have to say yes to that beer, but I did and let’s just say a part of me was curious to see you.” Jason shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I wanted to see if you remembered me, but I didn’t need you to remember. In all honesty I didn’t want you to remember so imagine my immense relief when I met you and you didn’t have a clue who I was. I was just a random stranger to you.”

Jason walked over to the table positioning himself next to Ric who was still standing in front of the table staring daggers at the folder. Jason leaned against the table and tilted his head to get Ric to look at him.

“And every time we sat down and had a beer, all the baggage and history of all the horrible shit I had done in the past was not rubbed back in my face by the guy who had my brother’s face,” Jason continued. “The ‘Golden boy’ was gone and in his place was this guy, my friend who never offered a lick of advice to me but instead just listened to my bullshit without judgment. I got to do the same in return for him with no agenda of jogging memories. It was perfect.

“So yeah, I’ll admit that I took advantage of a bad situation. I bent the truth a bit and left out certain details. But, I never lied to you, not like you lied to us all those years ago.”

Ric’s head snapped up at Jason’s last sentence. His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Jason, low blow. Now’s not the time for this discussion!” Tim cut in standing between Jason and Ric.

Jason narrowed his eyes at Tim and crossed his arms. Tim opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it. Instead he shook his head and walked away leaning against the wall. Jason took a deep breath and refocused his attention back onto Ric.

“Once upon time you faked your own death and didn’t even let us in on the secret.” Jason said coldly. “For months we thought you were dead. Don’t remember that do you, Dickie? Well it sucked.”

Ric rubbed his right cheek and returned his focus to the contents on the table.

“You said your lie was to protect us, but it was really to protect you, to protect Bruce, to protect the mission. You put the mission ahead of us, because that was what we had been taught. It’s how he raised us in this life.”

Jason slumped in the chair next to Ric and caught a quick glimpse of him biting his lip. Jason closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he continued.

“And you know what, as much as it sucked, being lied to by you and believing that you were dead, I get it now. I get why you had to lie and carry that secret. So yeah, I kept who I was from you and I put ‘this mission’ ahead of your feelings, but I did it because you’re a Rob-.” Jason stopped to clear his throat. “…because you’re our brother. I did it because that’s exactly what Dick did for us.”

“I’m not him anymore. I-I don’t…” Ric shook his head, gesturing at an old picture of Dick from the file folder. “I –I really don’t know who I am right now.”

Jason closed the file folder and pushed it out from Ric’s reach.

“I know who you are. You’re my friend, Ric and like I told you at the bar, you’re still the same guy I met on the side of the road with a broken down cab,” Jason reaffirmed. “You’re still the same guy I have beers with and play pool. And you’re right. You’re not Dick Grayson, but that’s not gonna stop us from trying to protect you from yourself and every other motherfucker lining up to take advantage of an amnesic former vigilante.”

“How do I know I can trust you guys?” Ric challenged, crossing his arms and leveling a look at Jason.

“You don’t, but just hear us out,” Jason said, getting up and pulling out a chair for Ric. “If you don’t like what you hear you can leave. We won’t stop you.”

Ric furrowed his brow at Jason for a split second but sat in the chair keeping his arms crossed.

“Excuse us for a second,” Tim said as he steered Jason by his sleeve into the kitchen out of earshot from Ric.

“What are you doing?” Tim whispered loudly as he kept his grip on Jason’s sleeve.” We can’t just let him leave.”

“We can’t force him to stay.” Jason retorted, yanking his arm out of Tim’s grip.

“The hell we can’t.” Tim argued. “Damian and I worked too hard on this to give up now.”

“Do you think I want to let him leave? You don’t think I want to tie him to a chair and make him stay? We can’t force him to stay, otherwise he’ll take off and then what?” Jason snapped. “Once he hears everything we have to tell him, he isn’t going anywhere.”

“You better know what you’re doing, Todd.” Damian said, glaring at Jason as he opened the cupboard to retrieve the box of tea bags.

“I do. Stay in the kitchen, understood.” Jason instructed, putting his hand on Damian’s shoulder. “Tim and I will handle this.”

Damian nodded, placing a teabag into the mug and pouring hot water into it.  

Jason and Tim made their way back into the living room to talk to Ric. Jason’s palms started to sweat at the thought of getting this all wrong and Ric storming out of the apartment in anger. Jason was already taking a risk by giving Ric permission to leave if he didn’t like what they had to say. But Jason had to remember that they weren’t showing Ric video footage of his shooting, nor were they force-feeding him memories of Dick Grayson and his old life. They were simply explaining their presence in Bludhaven and showing Ric evidence of him being duped by The Court.

Tim kept wringing his hands despite the determined look on his face.

“This is gonna work, Tim,” Jason reassured squeezing Tim’s shoulder. “Like you said, you and Damian worked too damn hard collecting evidence and research. He’ll believe us.”

Tim nodded, swallowing thickly.

He watched as Ric fought to sit still in the chair. Ric uncrossed his arms and leaned forward resting his elbows on his thighs. He ran a hand up and down his neck in exhaustion before massaging his temples. He then straightened up, crossed his arms again, and started bouncing his knee up and down so fast Jason was surprised Ric’s calf wasn’t burning. He looked like a spring ready to snap and hightail it out of the apartment. Finally Ric got up from the chair to pace the space of the living room. Jason knew he wouldn’t last long sitting still.

“We were only going to keep an eye on you and not interact until absolutely necessary,” Jason explained entering the living room from the kitchen.

Ric continued to walk around the apartment. He looked like he was listening, the tension in his shoulders was still present, and Jason could also see the muscles working in Ric’s jaw. Jason glanced at Tim to take over.

“We hadn’t planned on ever really talking to you…” Tim continued clearing his throat. “…not this soon at least. Our main intention was just keeping you safe, because you’re important to us.”

Ric finally stopped pacing and turned around to face Tim.

“I don’t know you,” Ric said flatly. “I barely know Jason.”

Tim’s shoulders sagged in defeat at Ric’s words and Jason could see the muscles in Tim’s jaw clenching. Jason knew the kid was fighting back tears. Jason walked over to Tim blocking his view of Ric and gave him a one armed hug. It wasn’t a Dick Grayson hug, but it would do in a pinch.

“Kid, you alright?” Jason quietly asked crouching at Tim’s level to get him to look at him.

“I will be,” Tim sniffed and took a deep breath. He plastered on a fake smile that did not reach his eyes and returned his attention to Ric.

“I know you don’t know me, but you trust Jason and I know a part of you wants to trust me too,” Tim reasoned, leveling a look at Ric. “Deep down your gut is telling you that we are important to you too, isn’t it?”

Jason watched as Ric’s shoulders slumped and his anger deflating as Tim’s words sunk in.

Ric stalked over to the table toward the file folder and opened it. He thumbed through it slowly and thoroughly.  Jason and Tim watched as Ric took in all the evidence Tim and Damian had collected over the last few weeks. Photos, notes, detailed documents of his past medications and prescriptions and their intended effects on the nervous system, particularly his. Ric sunk into the nearest chair as he held aloft a sketch of his neurologist, Dr Haas.

“This is all so fucked up,” Ric turned to give them both his full attention still holding the picture of Dr Haas. “So what you’re saying here, what these documents are saying is that I was drugged and hypnotized with suggestive thoughts to alter my memories so that I could be lured into an old secret society called “The Court of Owls’?”

“Sounds far-fetched but it’s on par with their reputation,” Jason added.

“Yes, you are the key to them continuing their work,” Tim clarified, pointing out certain photos of the Court to Ric. “You are who they refer to as the ‘The Gray Son of Gotham’. Their intention was to raise you into taking over your great-grandfather’s position, to be their Talon, basically their enforcer.

Tim pulled out a chair and sat next to Ric.

“We wanted to get close, but not so close that we would give ourselves away to you.” Tim continued, talking nervously with his hands. “That all backfired when Jason ‘met’ you sooner than we had intended. Still, the meet proved to have been beneficial because now we had an active eye on you.”

“So you were spying on me?” Ric quipped. “Were you also wearing an earpiece?”

“No,” Jason retorted, appalled that Ric would even suggest such a thing.

“Jason wouldn’t wear one,” Tim replied nonchalantly.

“Shut up, Tim.” Jason said through gritted teeth.

Jason turned to Ric. “Everything I ever said to you was never made up or fabricated. Again, I never lied to you. I swear. I just omitted names and certain details. Everything you told me, I never shared outside the bar. I promise.”

“Ric, are your memories coming back?” Tim asked.

Ric cringed at the question, his shoulders inching toward his ears. He swallowed thickly and looked over at Jason. Jason gave him an encouraging nod to answer the question.

“Yes, I think so,” Ric answered, looking down at the file folder and thumbing through the photos. “Mostly in dreams, but tonight was the first time I remembered something while I was awake. I think the muscle memory of fighting that Talon with Jason triggered something.”

“How so?” Tim probed.

“I called Jason ‘Little Wing’. At the time I didn’t know why I said it,” Ric explained. “It just came out as the most natural thing to say to him, but in the car I remembered that I used to call you that when you were younger?”

“When we had fought together as Robin and Nightwing,” Jason finished. “I hated the nickname at first, but I learned to like it later on. You still call me that now even if I’m not so ‘little’ anymore.”

Ric nodded and rested his chin in his hand and slowly scrutinized every piece of paper in the file folder with his free hand. He didn’t say a word the whole time. His brow furrowed in thought as he read page after page of notes. Ric’s silence was starting to unnerve Jason. He was still always so used to Dick being chatty regardless of his emotions. It was what made him annoying and endearing all at the same time. Jason had to remind himself that Ric wasn’t Dick. Maybe silence was how Ric liked to process things.

“I don’t want to go back to Gotham,” Ric said breaking the silence. “I’m not ready to see – I don’t want to see Bruce just yet.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not going back there for a while,” Tim assured. “It really isn’t safe to go there. We’re going to lay low here for the time being. You can stay here until we clear this mess with The Court.”

“It’s just that everyone who says that they know me keeps wanting me to be someone I can’t remember and I can’t handle it right now if he…”

“You don’t need to be anyone other than yourself, Ric. It’s okay. No one here is going to tell you how you should or shouldn’t be living your life.” Jason said the last sentence louder so it carried over to the kitchen. “Right?”

“Correct,” Damian answered from the kitchen.

“We’re still interested in getting to know you. Will you give us a second chance, please?” Tim asked. “We won’t push an old life you can’t remember down your throat.”

Just as Ric was going to answer Tim he stopped and sniffed the air. “What’s that smell? Is the old man here?”

“Alfred? No, it’s just the kid making tea,” Jason replied, his mouth going suddenly dry.

The smell wasn’t just from any ordinary tea. The scent was of home and comfort that brought with it memories of simpler times when a cup of tea fixed everything. The rich aroma of Earl Grey tea filled the living room and flooded Jason with memories of sad times turned to happiness with a simple cup of tea with Alfred. Jason almost couldn’t take it. Tim stared at him with wide eyes. Ric looked lost in a memory triggered by the strong scent of bergamot. It was Alfred’s comfort tea. At least that is what Dick had named it all those years ago when they had tried to coax Jason out of a bad mood. It was the type of tea Alfred had made on bad days that contained just enough caffeine to counteract anything from crying jags to bad moods. It was the tea he’d make in the special Robin’s Egg blue teapot with matching cups. It was Alfred’s way of comforting them the only way he knew how, with a cup of tea and a listening ear.

Jason didn’t even know he had Earl Grey tea in the apartment. Alfred must have stocked his pantry with it the last time he was here and now Damian had found it.

Damian walked into the room handing a steaming mug to Ric. “Drink this. It –.”

“–will make you feel better,” Ric finished. “He – he used to say that to me on bad days while he handed me a cup of Earl Grey tea.”

Damian sat in the empty chair next to Ric, cradling his own cup of tea. “He said it to all of us, Richard.”

Silence filled the apartment as Ric and Damian drank their tea. Tim gathered the scattered contents of the file and placed them back into the folder. Jason made his way into the kitchen to collect himself. He slumped against the kitchen counter and took a deep breath.

The evening’s events replayed themselves in his mind’s eye. Jason shook his head as he thought about what they could have lost tonight. They got lucky that Ric hadn’t bolted out of the apartment and disappeared. Tim had known that playing to Ric’s instincts would pay off. Jason had known that if he stated his case and showed the evidence, the detective buried inside of Ric would wake up and believe them. It had been a gamble, but it paid off. Jason rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Exhaustion was starting to settle into his bones.

“Hey, you okay, you’ve been in here a while,” Tim asked, poking his head into the kitchen.

“I’m fine. What are they doing now?” Jason asked, changing the subject.

“They finished their tea and now Damian is trying to get Ric to play ‘Cheese Vikings’.”

“Is it working?”

“I think Ric is warming up to him. They’re no longer scowling at each other, so that’s progress.”

Jason nodded.

“What’s wrong, Jason?” Tim asked, squeezing Jason’s shoulder. “You did it. You brought him back to us.”

He knew he should be happy, relieved that all four of them were finally under the same roof. But Jason couldn’t help but feel like he was slowly losing his friend. He didn’t go into this to just get Dick back, even if that is what he had told Tim and Damian at the start. He went into this to also keep Dick safe. But then he met Ric and they had gotten to know each other, which is when everything got complicated. There was always the possibility of Ric getting his memories back, that was a given; and with getting those memories back there was the possibility of Jason losing his friend. Jason just thought he’d have more time, but then that Talon fucker attacked them and Ric had called him ‘Little Wing’, and all bets were off.

Was it even possible at this point to have his brother back and still keep his friend? Jason didn’t know.

Jason grabbed two beers from the fridge. He opened one and took a swig.

“I’m happy he’s safe now. It’s just been a long night.”

Jason wasn’t going to bother explaining his apprehension to Tim. The kid was finally smiling after months of wearing a perpetual scowl to match Damian. There was no doubt Tim was happy that Ric decided to stay with them, and he should be happy. He and Damian worked damn hard collecting and curating all that evidence just to prove to their brother that he had been duped by the very people that were supposed to be helping him.

“You’re lying.”

Jason glared at him. “Just drop it.”

Both of them made it out of the kitchen and into the living room with Ric and Damian. Ric now had a controller and seemed to be doing an okay job navigating the game.

Jason handed the unopened beer to Ric and sat in the armchair next to the couch.

Ric handed the controller back to Damian to open his beer and took a drink.

“You know, I’m still a little mad at you,” Ric groused with no heat in his voice.

Jason smirked. “I know, but you’ll get over it.”