#jim is such a good dad

[dustykneed]

i just think spock has great mom friend potential tbh. strong contender for the cutest thing i've ever drawn

[gothamite-rambler]

The plight of a father of four boys

Batman (shouting, adopting an angry father voice): Why do you constantly make me angry and embarrass me?!

Nightwing looked at his brothers, who wore equally confused expressions. Batman groaned, his frustration evident, as he knew where this was heading.

Nightwing (waving his hands, exasperated): Batman, which one of us are you talking to?! Is it Red Hood?

Red Robin (pointing at the angry man, eager to deflect): Please say it's Red Hood!

Red Hood (denying, arms crossed): No, I don’t embarrass him. I annoy him! There's a difference. So it’s Red Robin, right? Because nobody likes him.

Robin (joining Red Hood's side, smirking): I agree!

Nightwing: Would you two stop bullying him!

Red Robin (spiteful tone, glaring): Oh, no, it's good because I know who Batman is referring to. It’s the unwanted child, isn’t it?!

Robin (innocent, eyes wide): Why would you say that about Nightwing?

Nightwing (confused and defensive): What?!

Red Robin (pointing, voice escalating): No, I was talking about Robin Jr.! He knows I was!

Robin (shouting, angrily): Robin Jr.! Those are fighting words you knock off Timothée Chalamet!

Without warning, Robin pounced onto Red Robin's back, and they both tumbled to the ground in a flurry of limbs. Meanwhile, Nightwing and Red Hood started arguing, their verbal sparring quickly escalating into a physical altercation.

Nightwing skillfully gained the upper hand, wrapping his arm around Red Hood’s neck in a headlock.

Batman sighed, feeling defeated, as he and Jim Gordon watched the bickering brothers. Jim couldn’t hide his amusement, much to Batman’s chagrin, a migraine already forming at his temples.

Jim (smoking his cigarette): Hm, you know, I often forget you have like four or five kids. Which one were you referring to?

Batman (deadpan, rubbing his temples): All of them�� All of them.

Jim (nodding, chuckling): Yeah, that tracks. Let them work it out of their system.

Batman (walking away, shaking his head): I usually do.

Jim (intentionally annoying the man): Hey, be thankful one of them isn’t a serial killer.

Batman (groaning, exasperated): Oh my god, it’s not a contest! And I'd still win with that case!

[steddieas-shegoes]

Requests: Steve adopting an abandoned child post earthquake in Hawkins after the spring break from hell. And him realizing all the ways he was hurt as a child due to his parents neglect. And how he overcomes it and raises his baby-child with gentleness, warmth, patience and love

OKAY GENUINELY I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY WITH THIS PROMPT AND IT STILL WASN'T AS MUCH AS I WANTED TO DO. FAIR WARNING: this is an emotional roller coaster. It ends HAPPY. But there are a lot of sad and bittersweet moments and feelings leading up to that moment. There is the mention of child neglect, and that can be difficult for some people to read, even with a happy ending, so please keep that in mind before starting this. Also, this is not how the law or CPS works at all, and it wasn't in the 80s either, but this is fiction and I do what I want. I hope someone can continue this idea somewhere because it is so special to me now. This is 6200 words of me not knowing how to wrap it up with a bow. I hope you love this my darling, thank you for this one. - Mickala ❤️

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

Steve spent the last 12 hours pacing the waiting room floor at the hospital. He’d promised the kids he would stay until there was an update on Eddie and Max, and their parents had insisted they go home after they’d been quickly attended to for their minor injuries.

Max was stable, but not awake. They weren’t sure if she ever would be again. Steve passed that on to Nancy so she could call everyone.

Eddie finally made it out of surgery, alive, but barely.

He’d lost a lot of blood and they weren’t able to give him a transfusion until Wayne got there to donate.

It was touch and go for another few hours in recovery.

But things calmed down a bit, his heart rate settling at a normal rate, his oxygen maintaining where it should be with the mask on, the bleeding stopped and his blood regenerating on its own.

He wasn’t awake, but he was alive.

That was enough for Wayne and Hopper to kick him out of the hospital and make him go home.

“Shower. Eat. Sleep. In that order, Harrington,” Hopper said, the gruffness in his voice overruled by the concern.

He was up to speed on everything he missed, and he wasn’t thrilled about how much Steve had put on the line for everyone.

So Steve left, even though he wanted to stay, needed to have eyes on Eddie, on Max.

He had to trust that they were being taken care of.

He made it home, did two of the three things Hopper told him to. His shower was long and hot, finally able to wash away the blood and dirt and Upside Down particles that clung to his skin for the last couple of days. His dinner was quick and unfulfilling, but frozen meals usually are.

And then he did try to sleep. He tried on the couch first, his usual go-to spot after crises. Then he tried to go to his bed, hoping the weight of his comforter would help lull him to sleep.

But two hours later, he was still wide awake.

So he got up, put on jeans and a sweater, and made his way to the school, where emergency services had been set up.

It was chaotic, still very little organization amongst groups. The firefighters had been dispatched all over town, and most medical professionals had been called into the hospital or to help EMTs on calls. A handful of teachers had been put in charge of the check-in process here, making sure anyone who came through was on a list of survivors first, then sent to help where they were needed if they were able.

Steve was able, so he put his name on the list and was told to stand with a group at the far corner of the gym. Everyone in this group was waiting for a dispatch crew of firefighters to come get them to help locate survivors.

They were given vests, gloves, and helmets to wear, and given quick safety briefings. They were told not to move any rubble, that if they suspected someone was under some, to call for the professionals. They were just extra eyes and ears because everyone was stretched too thin for a disaster of this magnitude and help from local towns was slow to arrive.

Steve figured this would help him, if he stayed busy and managed to help people, he wouldn’t think about how helpless he was when it came to Max and Eddie.

The first location they were dropped at was a small neighborhood on the outskirts of town. Most of the homes had been completely demolished, cracks in the ground swallowing pieces of them. If there were any survivors here, they would be in desperate need of medical attention.

But after nearly four hours of searching, only one person was found, their leg trapped under a large wooden beam. The leg was broken, but they were fine other than that.

Steve felt relief that nothing more serious had happened there.

But the second area was worse.

It wasn’t a neighborhood, just a small wooded area surrounding two homes a good distance apart. Surprisingly, the homes were still standing, but everything around them was destroyed. Fires had been only recently extinguished, downed trees and power lines blocking most of the driveway and road in front of them.

“This should be relatively quick, both homes are empty and cars are gone, so we think everyone managed to get out safely, but we do need to be sure,” the firefighter in charge of this group said before leading them forward.

The smaller of the two houses was empty, though a mess, like the occupants had rushed to pack necessities and threw anything else on the ground as they rushed to get out.

The other home, though, was surprisingly clean. Kept up in a way Steve wouldn’t have expected for the panic most people showed while escaping town.

Everyone assumed maybe the occupants hadn’t even been home when the quake hit.

But Steve decided to go upstairs anyway.

Something was telling him this wasn’t normal.

It felt familiar in a way he didn’t want to acknowledge yet.

No one else followed him, all of the volunteers congregating in the living room area to discuss their next location before heading back to the school for a break.

Steve followed his gut, and his gut told him to check the bedroom at the end of the hall.

He opened the door, not surprised to see that nothing seemed strange at first glance.

Then he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, under the bed.

He would’ve checked there anyway, that’s where he would have hidden in this kind of situation, too.

“I guess this place is all clear,” Steve said, quiet enough not to be heard by anyone downstairs yet, but loud enough to be heard by the person under the bed.

“Wait!”

It was a kid, Steve figured as much based on the items on the desk in the corner and the poster on the wall.

The small boy crawled out from under the bed, panic on his face.

“Are you gonna take me to my parents?” The boy asked, lips wobbling.

“I’m gonna try. I’m Steve, what’s your name?”

“Elliott.”

“Nice to meet you, Elliott. How old are you?”

“Nine.”

Jesus Christ. Where had his parents even been? Why weren’t they looking for him?

He hoped they were on their way back and just stuck trying to get into town.

But a part of him had already known that wasn’t true. A part of him knew the moment they pulled into the area that he’d find someone left here, someone who shouldn’t have ever been alone.

“Alright, Elliott, let’s get you back to the school. We can put your name on the list so your parents can find you easier, okay? I can stay with you until they get here.”

“I don’t know if they will.”

Steve’s heart stopped for a moment.

Sure, his parents never came back after the Upside Down bullshit, but he’d been a teenager and adult. They probably assumed he wasn’t involved in any of it and was fine.

But Elliott was nine.��Even his parents would have come back for him at that age.

They never should have left him alone to begin with, but even they knew the trouble they’d be in for leaving him at that age after a fucking earthquake.

“Of course they will, buddy. It’s just hard getting into Hawkins right now, you’ll see on our way back.”

He placed his hand on Elliott’s shoulder, not surprised when he tensed up under him for a moment before he relaxed.

Steve hadn’t been used to casual touch until he met Nancy.

But Elliott deserved to feel cared for right now, so he kept his hand there, let him get used to it for a moment, and then guided him out the door and down the stairs.

Most of the group had moved back outside, but a few people remained.

One of the few women in the group looked over at his entrance, her jaw dropping when she saw he had a child with him.

“Oh my God!”

Steve held his hand up, knowing Elliott probably didn’t want to draw a lot of attention to himself.

“He’s okay. He managed to find a safe place to hide. His parents might be looking for him though so we should get him back,” Steve said calmly.

No one crowded him, but the firefighter waiting by the van that was transporting everyone checked his heart and lungs, made sure he didn’t have any visible wounds or injuries.

Elliott didn’t let go of Steve the entire time, his hand gripping his forearm like he was terrified to lose him among the group.

Steve didn’t try to pull away, not once.

He knew Elliott needed someone. He could be that someone for him.

—-------------

When they arrived back at the school, they put his name on the list, and since he was a minor, they had him go to one of the classrooms that was being watched over by security while they tried to contact his parents.

He told them they left for a business trip over a week ago, he didn’t know when they would be back, and his aunt checked on him every morning, but he hadn’t seen her since the quake.

Steve stood by as he spoke to the responsible adults, not letting Elliott out of his sight.

Elliott begged for Steve to come with him to wait while they tried to locate his parents, so he did.

He realized pretty quickly that Elliott must not have slept last night; He curled against Steve’s side on the floor almost immediately and fell asleep, light snores making Steve smile to himself.

The floor was hard, the wall behind him was somehow harder, but he wouldn’t move short of another emergency.

They stayed like that for hours, kids coming and going as more were found and reunited with their families.

Elliott was the youngest one left in the room, all the other kids high school age.

When one of the men from the group he was in earlier came in the room to get another kid, he asked if there was any update on Elliott.

“Nah, they’re still trying to find them. The aunt um…” The guy looked nervously down at the sleeping Elliott. “She didn’t make it. Was on her way to try to get him when another crack hit the road she was driving on, car crashed. They contacted the dad’s business and were told he’s out of the country and won’t be returning calls until next week.”

“How long are they gonna make him stay here while they figure it out?”

“No clue, man. I’ll ask someone.”

But he didn’t come back and Elliott deserved something better than the floor to sleep on.

“Hey, buddy,” Steve said, gently nudging his shoulder to wake him up. “Sorry, just gotta run and ask someone something real quick.”

Elliott grabbed his shirt, holding it in his fist tightly.

“Don’t go! Please,” he begged, tears welling in his eyes.

Steve’s heart broke.

He’d been this kid for so much of his childhood, practically begging people to stick around so he didn’t have to be drenched in loneliness again.

He knew he would be right back, but to Elliott, especially after the quake, he probably felt like anyone who left would be gone forever.

“Come with me. We’ll find you some dinner while I find out how things are going.”

He stood up, his legs numb from sitting on the floor so long, and helped Elliott find his balance after waking up so abruptly.

They left the room, the security nodding them on when he saw Steve was with him, and walked down the hall to the cafeteria area.

They were serving ham and cheese sandwiches, bags of chips, and water for everyone. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for now.

If he could find a phone, maybe he could get Robin to bring him and Elliott more food.

Elliott shyly thanked the person handing out the meals, and Steve slowly guided him to an empty table while his eyes searched for anyone he recognized.

He almost did a happy dance when he saw Dustin and Claudia across the room.

“Hey, that’s actually my friend and his mom. Can you wait here while I grab them?”

Elliott nodded nervously, clearly only letting him walk away because he would be within his sight the entire time.

Steve ran over to them, wincing slightly when the bite on his stomach started pulsing. Probably should take it easier while that healed.

“Dustin!” Steve exclaimed as he got closer.

Dustin’s head shot around, smile lighting up his face as he realized it was Steve.

“Dude! Everyone’s been trying to find you for hours. Have you been here all day?”

“Kinda. I came to help with searching and I found a kid earlier. They’re trying to find his parents, but he’s been kind of attached to me.”

“Damn, I hope they find them soon. Phone lines keep going down. You seen Hopper come by yet?”

“No, has he gotten any sleep yet?”

“Doubt it. Ma, do you have any cookies left for Steve?”

Claudia came bustling over, digging through her purse as she walked.

“Oh, I’m sure I do! Hi, Steve, dear. Hope you’re doing okay in all this madness.”

“I’m doing alright,” Steve gave her a small smile as she managed to find the cookies and hand them over. “Hey, do you know the parents of Elliott Devers?”

“Oh, I know of them, sure. Only met them once, they never seem to be in town. He’s a sweet boy, his aunt seems to take care of him most of the time.”

Steve filled her in on what he knew so far, that Elliott’s aunt had died, that no one could reach his parents, that he’d been alone in the house for at least a full day before Steve found him.

That Elliott didn’t seem to want to be separated from Steve.

Dustin was watching him talk, eyebrows furrowing like he was trying to think of something.

“Wait, his dad’s the guy who was under investigation for tax evasion, fraud, and identity theft, isn’t he?”

Steve’s stomach dropped.

His brain made connections that only children of rich parents can in a matter of seconds.

His parents ran to another country on “business” because that was the only way they were allowed to leave while he was under investigation. No one could reach them because they gave fake information so they could go into hiding. Because he was guilty of all of the things he was under investigation for and didn’t want to lose everything and end up in prison.

Fuck.

Claudia must have realized the same thing, a deep frown settling on her face.

“Elliott is the boy sitting at that table?” She asked as she pointed towards him.

He was watching them as he ate, eyes wide as he kept glancing around the room.

Steve nodded.

“If they ran, and they aren’t coming back, where will he go?” Steve asked.

“I’m sure he’ll be placed with a family who can take him until they can figure out a more permanent place, but that may be hard right now with so many people leaving Hawkins. He may have to leave town,” Claudia said, though Steve could tell she was trying to figure out how to take him in, even if only for a few days.

“What would I have to do to keep him while they keep looking?”

“Oh, that’s a question for Hopper, sweetie. I’m not sure you’d fit the requirements, even though I think he’d be very lucky to get to stay with you,” Claudia touched his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze in comfort.

“Is he coming by?”

“Hopper? Yes, he just got done at the hospital handling some things for Edward,” Claudia said.

“Eddie, Ma, how many times do I have to tell you?”

“The tone! Watch it!” Steve said before Claudia could respond.

She smirked at Steve, then gave Dustin a look that said she wasn’t going to listen to him and walked away.

“I gotta go with her, she’s bringing dinner to Wayne at the hospital.”

“Is Eddie awake?”

“Not yet, but they think it could be anytime. They said the drugs in his system are heavy enough to keep him out for a while.”

“But he seems okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Max?”

He almost didn’t want to ask, but he had to.

“No news.”

Steve nodded once, acknowledging that Dustin didn’t want to talk about it right now, that it was tough to even think about how she was probably not gonna wake up anytime soon if ever.

“Hey, come by my house tomorrow, okay? We can watch a movie or somethin’.”

“Sure.”

Steve gave Dustin a quick hug before making his way back to Elliott, who looked like he might start crying any moment.

“Hey, buddy. Sorry that took longer than I thought, but…” Steve pulled the bag of cookies from behind his back with a smile. “I got cookies! Claudia makes the best chocolate chip oatmeal cookies. You’ll love them.”

Elliott relaxed a little, smiling up at Steve as he reached for the bag of cookies.

“Is she nice? She looks nice.”

“She’s awesome. She always brings me soup if I’m sick.”

“Is that what moms do? My aunt sometimes does, but she doesn’t know how to make the kind I like.”

Steve bit his lip.

“What kind do you like?”

“My favorite is tomato and noodles. She can only make chicken noodle. It’s okay, but sometimes it has a funny taste.”

Steve smiled at him, glad he was at least talking, even if what he was saying was heartbreaking.

“I’m sure Claudia can make you some tomato and noodles. I’ll call and ask.”

“But not now, right?”

Elliott’s voice filled with panic, his eyes widening.

“No, I’m staying with you right now. The chief should be here soon and we can figure out what’s going on, okay?”

“Like, the chief of police? You know him?”

“Yeah, Hopper’s nice. Don’t let his mean face scare you. He’s kind of a teddy bear.”

“Excuse you, I’m not a teddy bear. I’m a grizzly bear,” Hopper said behind Steve.

Elliott laughed, and Hopper tried to hide a small smile. Teddy bear.

“Are you Elliott?” Elliott nodded. “Can we go talk for a few minutes just us? I promise Steve can wait right outside the door.”

Hopper gave Steve a look that said he was about to ruin this kid’s day as if it didn’t already suck enough.

“Um, can Steve come in the room too?”

“If you want him to, sure.”

“I want him to.”

“Okay then, let’s go.”

Steve grabbed everything off the tables, throwing the trash away on the walk towards the teacher’s lounge area that had been set up for the cops to conduct phone calls and interviews as needed.

It was empty now, probably thanks to Hopper taking control quickly.

They sat down around a table, Elliott’s hand finding Steve’s quickly.

“Alright, Elliott, so I have a few questions and then I have some news,” Hopper started, his voice maintaining no emotion the way he’d been taught.

“Okay.”

“How long have your parents been gone this time?”

“I dunno. A week, maybe a little longer.”

“And you were alone that whole time?”

Elliott looked to Steve, like he needed help to answer, but Steve just smiled at him and mouthed ‘just be honest, you’re not in trouble.’

“Most of the time. My aunt came to check on me in the mornings and bring me food for the day.”

“Aunt Janice?”

“Yeah.”

“Bud, I’m sorry to tell ya this, but your Aunt Janice was in a really bad accident and didn’t make it,” Hopper’s voice started to show some emotion, but Steve squeezed Elliott’s hand so he wouldn’t focus on that.

“She died?”

“Yeah, bud. I’m sorry.”

“But who will bring me food in the morning?”

Steve couldn’t do this. Holy shit, he could not do this. How was Hopper able to do this?

“Well, we still haven’t been able to call your parents. Do you know exactly where they might be?”

“I don’t know. They don’t tell me where they go.”

Steve and Hopper looked at each other.

Hopper knew Steve had been in a similar position when he was younger, but no one checked on him. Hopper had often been the one to show up at his door during his early teens to make sure he had food and wasn’t hurt.

“What if he stayed with me until you find them?” Steve asked Hopper.

Elliott turned to him.

“I can stay with you?” He asked excitedly.

“Oh, I’m not sure about that. There’s a process for this kinda thing,” Hopper began.

“Then start the process. He’s staying with me,” Steve said firmly, not caring if he sounded rude, not caring if Hopper hated him for it, just wanting Elliott safe and in a house instead of a school converted to a disaster relief zone.

Hopper eyed him up and down, and the way Elliott was holding his hand and bouncing excitedly in his chair.

“Alright, fine. But it’s a week by week basis until we can get ahold of his parents,” Hopper said directly to Steve.

“Steve, do you have a microwave? I make popcorn so good, like so good. I can make it tonight even!”

Steve smiled at him, and then at Hopper, who was watching with a fond smile.

“I’m sure I have what you need to make some popcorn, buddy.”

“You wait here, I have to get the release from CPS. They’re in the front office.”

Elliott went on and on about all the things they could do while he stayed with him, and when he found out Steve had a pool, he didn’t even stop for breath as he explained that he was the best swimmer when they took a field trip last year to the pool and that he could probably even beat Steve in a race.

Steve just smiled and agreed.

—-----------------------

A week with Elliott went by, and it was easy.

Steve was terrified how quickly he just fit in.

He fit in at his house, making it feel like a home, with his rambunctious energy and nightly popcorn making.

He fit in with the kids, showing interest in D&D even though he’d never heard of it before.

He even fit with Robin, who kind of hated kids, but thought Elliott was probably the cutest kid she’d ever met.

One night, while Dustin and Mike were showing Elliott how to build a character, Robin asked him the question he’d been dreading.

“What happens if he can’t stay?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m assuming they’ll find his parents soon, and when they do, he’ll have to go live with them again. Or at least his mom since his dad will be in prison for life at this rate. How are you gonna handle that?”

He had no clue. He wanted Elliott to have parents who stuck around, and who loved him, and let him pop popcorn every night.

But realistically, even if they did come back, that wasn’t what his life would look like.

His life would be a lot like Steve’s was, sad and lonely, and he didn’t deserve that.

“I’m gonna fight for him. I don’t know what that means yet, but I know that whatever is best for him is what I’m gonna make sure happens.”

Robin wrapped him up in a hug, her arms squeezing him to her.

“You’re gonna be a great dad someday.”

No one had ever said that to him before.

But maybe he could believe it.

—-------------------------------------

Steve was the first person to come to the hospital when Eddie woke up, Elliott excitedly chattering from the backseat of his car the whole way.

It was helping Steve’s nerves, but he knew he wasn’t giving Elliott the attention he needed.

“Sorry, buddy. What was that?”

Elliott was quiet for a moment.

“Are you worried?”

Steve smiled at him in the rearview mirror, his hands gripping the wheel tight.

“A little. You remember how everyone told you about Eddie? How he saved us all and almost died?”

“Yeah, he’s a hero!”

“He is. But he’s still healing and I’m just worried about how hurt he is.”

“Oh. So we can’t hug him or hold his hand to help him feel better?” Elliott groaned. “Oh man, I was gonna bring him popcorn!”

Steve laughed quietly to himself.

“I think he’s on a pretty strict diet right now, buddy. Maybe when he’s out of the hospital we can have him over for a movie and you can make him some.”

“When will he be out?”

“I dunno yet. I think it might still be a little while.”

“Will I still live with you then?”

Steve gulped.

“I hope so.”

“Me too,” Elliott said quietly, staring out the window as they pulled into the hospital parking lot.

His mood was a bit somber as they walked through the halls of the bustling hospital, going to the fifth floor in the elevator where Eddie’s room was.

When he got to the right room, he knocked on the door even though it was open, smiling in at Wayne.

“Hey, come in, Steve. Eddie, Steve’s here,” Wayne said as he turned to Eddie, who was awake, but mostly horizontal still in bed.

“Steve?” Eddie’s rough voice asked.

“Hey, Eds. Hope it’s okay I brought my buddy, Elliott, to say hi. He’s heard a lot about you and Dustin and Mike and Will have been teaching him D&D for when you get out of here.”

Steve walked close to the bed, holding Elliott’s hand. He seemed shy suddenly, which wasn’t like him, not since he was living with Steve.

“Hey, Elliott. You keepin’ Steve company?”

“Yes, sir.”

Wayne snorted.

“Oh, son, you don’t have to be formal with Eddie. He’s barely older than you in his head.”

Eddie glared at Wayne, but smiled at Elliott.

“Seriously, bud, just Eddie is fine. So you ready for a campaign?”

“I dunno. Dustin said maybe I can play with you guys?”

“‘Course you can. I have so many ideas when I get outta here.”

Eddie turned to Steve and gave him a smirk.

“As long as we can host at your place?”

Steve blushed, remembering the last time he had Eddie’s full attention on him, back when his words “make him pay” sounded a lot like “I love you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we can do that. When do you get out of here?”

Elliott was loosening his anxious grip on Steve’s hand as the nerves wore off.

“They said not for a couple weeks, but I’m gonna walk right out of here the moment I can feel my legs again.”

Elliott let out a giggle and Eddie smiled.

“You can help me, right? I may need some support to run for it.”

“No! You have to stay until you’re all better, goofball.”

“That’s exactly what I told him, Elliott. You’re much wiser than he is,” Wayne said with a roll of his eyes.

Elliott moved closer to the side of the bed, his hands folded in front of him.

“Um. Could I hold your hand? So you feel better?”

Steve was going to cry.

Eddie kind of looked like he might, too.

“Yeah, I could use a hand to hold, bud. Thanks for offering. Wayne’s hand gets sweaty, but don’t tell him I said that,” he whispered the last part to Elliott, but loud enough so everyone could still hear.

Elliott held his hand, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed.

He told Eddie all about the character Dustin and Mike helped him build, about how they might run a practice campaign with him soon. He told him about the popcorn he would make for the first time he came over.

Steve watched fondly, realizing quickly that this wasn’t something he could lose.

Not Elliott, and not Eddie either.

—-----------------------------

Elliott’s parents were still missing.

It’s been almost a month, Eddie was released from the hospital a day ago, and Elliott was still living with Steve.

The longer he stayed, the more it would hurt if he left.

They got into a routine.

School had been canceled for the rest of the year, so they mostly just made breakfast together, went in the pool, hung out with the kids, visited Eddie, played basketball, and had popcorn every night.

Steve knew Elliott was happy, he knew he was happy.

He was terrified it would end.

They were hosting Eddie for a movie night, and Elliott was more excited than ever.

Steve was a nervous wreck.

He was in charge of making sure Eddie didn’t overdo it, making sure he took his nighttime medications, and getting him to bed at a reasonable hour. According to Wayne, his pills made him tired and he would fight sleep if you didn’t force him into a bed.

Steve spent the day cleaning, baking, and preparing.

By dinner time, when Eddie would be arriving, Elliott was starting to question it.

“What’s wrong? Do you not want Eddie to come over?”

“No! Of course I want him to come over.”

“So…why are you being like this?”

“I’m…”

“Is it because you love Eddie?”

Steve choked on air.

“What?”

“Or do you think Eddie doesn’t love you?”

“Elliott, gonna say a big kid word right now. What the hell do you mean?”

Elliott rolled his eyes.

“You want to make Eddie feel happy and safe here, and you always get this stupid look on your face when we visit him, and then when I asked Wayne if you two were boyfriends he laughed and said ‘probably soon.’ So you love him, right?”

Steve’s mouth was working open and shut, open and shut, no noise coming out.

“Two boys can be together, you know. Robin told me.”

“She what? When?”

“When she told me two girls can be together.”

Steve put his face in his hands and couldn’t help the laugh of disbelief he let out as Elliott touched his back to comfort him.

“Did you not know you loved Eddie?”

“Uh. I guess I didn’t know that other people thought I loved Eddie.”

“Oh. So are you gonna be boyfriends?”

“I…I don’t know, buddy. Maybe.”

“I think you should be. Then it might be like I have two dads.”

What?

What.

“What?”

Elliott pulled his hand away and suddenly seemed nervous.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

Steve couldn’t handle the look on Elliott’s face.

“Elliott, look at me, buddy.” He waited for Elliott to look at him. “Is that what you think of me as? Like your dad?”

Elliott nodded.

“Come here,” Steve said, pulling Elliott into a hug. “You’re the best kid, you know that?”

Elliott nodded, and Steve let out a wet laugh.

“Uh, everything okay in here?” Eddie said from the doorway.

“Eddie!” Elliott let out, and despite the mood of the previous conversation, he was smiling from ear to ear.

Eddie smiled at him and pulled him into the least hurt side of him for a hug.

He looked at Steve with a questioning look. Steve just shook his head quickly, wiping the tears from his eyes quickly.

“Can I make popcorn now, pleeeeease?” Elliott asked, bouncing on his heels.

“Yes, fine. But only one bowl right now. You can make more after dinner.”

“Okay, dad!” he yelled as he ran to the popcorn maker.

Eddie’s brows raised to his forehead as he looked at Steve, who was crying buckets at this point.

“What’s that about, Stevie?” Eddie whispered as he came up to him.

“I um, I guess he just feels like I’m his dad,” Steve shrugged.

“Are you okay with that?”

“I just don’t want him to go.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie said, pulling Steve into a crushing hug that had to hurt him. Steve sniffled against his shoulder, letting himself cry for a minute. “Did Hopper say he may have to go soon?”

“No, but I mean, if they find his parents or if CPS decides he has to go to a real family, then he’ll have to.”

“Stevie, they wouldn’t just take him. Not when he’s safe here and wants to be here. I promise.”

“But what if he goes somewhere far away or to people who won’t let me see him?”

Eddie held the back of his head against his shoulder, placing a kiss to the top of his head.

“He won’t. We’ll fight for him to stay here, okay? He’s got a family here, with us. Right?”

“Us?” Steve asked as he pulled away.

“Yeah. Us. Sound okay to you?”

Steve could only nod as he wiped his running nose.

How attractive.

“Hopper still doesn’t have any idea where they are, right?”

“Nope.”

“They’ll give up eventually. I hate to say it, but they won’t put more effort into a kid who has a safe place to go when they have bigger problems. Like how half the town is still homeless because of a fucking earthquake.”

“That’s a big kid word!” Elliott yelled from his spot at the counter.

“I’m a big kid!” Eddie yelled back, smirking at Steve.

“But I’m not!” Elliott yelled as they heard the popcorn machine starting up.

“Fine!”

Eddie placed a kiss on Steve’s forehead, then one against his lips.

It was soft, chaste, barely a kiss at all.

But it was a perfect first kiss for them.

—----------------------------

Another month passed with no news.

Eddie was at Steve’s house almost every day, spending time with Elliott, spending time with the party, with Steve.

Steve had converted the main guest room into Elliott’s permanent bedroom, but was scared to think of it that way still.

Eddie tried to reassure him, but even he was nervous that no final decisions had been made and the case remained open.

Until Hopper came by one night, well after Elliott went to bed. Eddie was doing the dishes while Steve was prepping some fruit for Elliott’s breakfast before his first day of summer camp the next day.

“Hop.”

Steve felt his stomach sink.

They were going to take Elliott.

“Steve. Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Steve let him in, his face forced into casual calm, but on the inside he was already screaming and crying about what was about to happen.

Hopper sat down on the chair, gesturing for Steve and Eddie to sit on the couch.

“So.”

“You’re taking him aren’t you? He can’t stay.”

“What? No.” Hopper frowned. “No, Steve. The opposite actually. We’re closing the case. CPS said after interviews with him, even if his parents did get found or come back on their own, he wouldn’t be put back in their care.”

“But what about putting him with another family?”

Hopper sighed. He watched Eddie place a hand on Steve’s knee to calm him down.

“They’ve spoken in detail with him about his current situation. They believe that you’re the person he wants to live with and they aren’t going to disrupt his life any more than it already has been. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

Steve felt like he could breathe for the first time in his life.

“He can stay? With me?”

“He can stay with you.”

Steve let out a sob and fell against Eddie’s side. Eddie was crying too, but trying to keep more control so he could comfort Steve.

“CPS has to do a home visit to finalize everything, but if you’re good with it, you can officially adopt him. He’s been considered abandoned by his parents, and since it’s been 60 days, they relinquish all rights automatically.”

“How quickly can we do that?”

“We? Both of you?”

“I mean, can we both even do that?”

Hopper shrugged.

“Don’t know. But they’re probably expecting just Steve for now. They’ll call tomorrow to schedule everything and give you a chance to talk to Elliott.”

Steve and Eddie both nodded.

“I’m gonna leave you two to it, but call me if you need me. Congrats, Steve. I know you wanted this. I know he wanted this.”

“Thanks.”

Hopper saw himself out, closing the door quietly so it wouldn’t wake Elliott up.

“Eddie, did that really happen? Am I dreaming?”

“No, sweetheart, you aren’t dreaming.”

“I get to be his dad.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you want to be his other dad?”

“I would love to, baby. Let’s ask him tomorrow, though. It’s up to him.”

Steve nodded.

It was up to Elliott, but he knew what Elliott wanted.

He knew what he wanted.

They were gonna be a family. A real family. No more worrying about someone deciding to take Elliott away from him.

He could finally use this house that had been left to him by his parents for something other than being miserable. He could keep it filled with love and laughter and happiness and maybe the occasional stupid argument.

Maybe Elliott would make friends at school in the fall and want to have hangouts here. Maybe they could both save up some money and take him on a vacation somewhere. Maybe someday they could get married and Elliott could be the best man.

Anything could happen.

Steve couldn’t wait.

[unforgivablego]

[archersartcorner]

Still thinkin of baby spock, so have a silly thing. Bonus, the photo he showed jim…

… with some notes from me lol

[lichqueenlibrarian]

They’re so unserious

[wheneverfeasible]

wc: 2.3k || rating: T || cw: none || summary: Jim Hopper and Will Byers have a bonding moment post-S4. pre-Byler || now on ao3

Jim wouldn’t say that it wasn’t an adjustment. Of course it was.

It had been easier with Eleven because, though it had been years, he’d once been a dad to a little girl before too. Not that El was anything like Sarah had been, and Jim had made absolute fucking certain El knew that she was not in any way a replacement for Sarah, but she was still a little girl. Or had been, at least.

Still was in a lot of ways, but she was growing up. Still needed her dad though, that much had become certain from the moment they reunited. He was just happy that Joyce had been there for her, had all but already been her mom even before he and Joyce finally became a thing.

And they did become a Thing. It took some doing with having to come back from the dead, with the Byers moving back to Hawkins, and with figuring themselves all out as they settled into this new normal. El had become a part of the Byers family, and sure Jim had his and El’s cabin, but it wasn’t really fit for so many people. So, with a little assistance from the US Government who owed them for an entire lifetime of pain and terror, they bought a new house.

Jim remembered when he used to live in a trailer by the lake, and here he was now living in a sprawling goddamn near-mansion in Loch Nora, not too far down from the Harrington residence actually. It was a gorgeous two-story, five bedroom, three and a half bathroom house with its own pool, and plenty of space for all the kids when they inevitably came to visit. It was…a lot, sometimes. More than Jim was used to, but he never regretted what it meant to be with Joyce.

Even if it was an adjustment.

Jim had, quite quickly, gone from being a single parent with one daughter to a stepfather of sorts to two boys, one of them already grown. He could tell that it was an adjustment to the boys as well, whose last experience with a male figure was Bob Newby who hadn’t been more than just their mom’s boyfriend.

And sure, it wasn’t like he and Joyce were married or anything. They were still getting used to the idea of simply being together themselves, but there was years of history between them, even before all this shit with the Upside Down. What’s more, Jim couldn’t take El away from the family she made with the Byers, so it only made sense to move in together. Make up for lost time.

He could tell it was awkward for the boys as much as it was for him, though Jonathan and him had reached some kind of understanding and bonding due to the boy’s age and the fact that they’d sneak off away from Joyce to smoke pot together occasionally. It was different with Will, however.

Jim could tell he was…maybe wary wasn’t quite the right word, but it was close enough. Jim knew he wasn’t the kind of softness that Bob had been, knew that Russia had changed him further, sharpening bits of himself and hardening others. He was learning to move past that though, surprisingly enough with Steve Harrington of all people and that Robin Buckley girl. They’d talked about it, finally having someone else who understood, and it…it helped.

Living so close to the Harringtons, Steve started coming around a lot more often, helping Joyce out with the kids, or shooting the shit with Hopper. Sometimes Robin joined him, sometimes not. He made certain the girl knew she was always welcome, however, with or without Steve, after she had confessed that she felt like she didn’t deserve to be part of the discussion because the Russians never hit her. He made damn certain she knew that there was more than just one type of torture.

So yeah, Jim was doing better, settling back into his normal (or as normal as it got) life, taking up work as a private investigator, though Cal had offered him his job as chief back. Jim didn’t want it anymore, however, and with the tidy sum of money the government gave to the Hopper-Byers family, he wasn’t in desperate need of money as he worked out his new occupation. He had agreed to help out, unofficially, when needed, however.

It left him time to get used to his new family dynamic, however. To be there for El, Joyce, and the boys, though Jonathan seemed to finally start relaxing again now that the Vecna creep was well and truly gone.

But still Will was hesitant with him, not quite timid but watchful. Especially when Mike was over. Jim always had to suppress a sigh at that. He had thought that he was in the clear once El and the twerp broke up, but no such luck apparently.

And Jim knew. He recalled Joyce’s words, knew what that asshole Lonnie had called the boy, and before it might have been explained away from the kid just being a gentle soul when he was younger, but there was no denying the way that Will looked at Mike. Worse, the way Mike looked at Will. He wanted to grumble, put off by the disrespect shown towards El even though she had been the one to break things off, but El had assured him that she was fine.

Jim knew how he looked. He was large, and while he was no longer portly, he was solid. He kept up with his exercise, even took to jogging in the morning with Steve and Lucas, and made good use of his new pool when it was warm enough to do so. Sometimes even when it wasn’t. He knew he was intimidating. He knew that to a young gay kid whose own father had spouted hate, it had to be scary.

He also didn’t want to out the poor kid, however. Right now it was technically only conjecture. Just an idea. He wasn’t trying to be the kid’s dad. He knew he couldn’t force himself into that position. The kid was grown enough to not need him to, after all.

But…he wanted Jonathan and Will both to know that he was there for them, whenever and whatever they needed. Jim had no problem with alternative lifestyles. As long as his kids were safe and happy, that was all that mattered.

So Jim tried to soften himself some, joked and teased Will like he did with El, made it obvious that he was in it until the end, that whether or not he and Joyce ever got married, they were his in whatever capacity they let him have them. And slowly, ever so slowly, Will began opening up to him.

It started with his artwork. He’d painted a portrait of the family, all five of them, as a Mother’s Day present for Joyce. He showed Jim first, asking his opinion and obviously nervous about it, but Jim could only praise the work with genuine compliments. He even joking said he might just have to pay Will to do a portrait for his office like those fancy muckity mucks.

Will then surprised him, on Father’s Day, with a portrait of his own. Jim was not ashamed to say that it brought tears to his eyes, and he promptly hung it up in a place of honor.

From then on, things got a little more comfortable, and Will even joined him and the others on their morning jogs sometimes, or some of the other exercises Jim partook in. Slowly Will even started filling out, and he could tell it helped the boy’s confidence some, though he also noticed it made Mike stare more too.

Jim wasn’t stupid. Though there had been a period of time where he didn’t give a shit, where he drank his life away through heartbreak and barely existed, he had still been a cop. And a damn good one once he got a scent. He could piece together clues and figure things out and see what others didn’t want you to see.

It was why, one summer afternoon while Will was sprawled on chair beside him by the pool, watching fucking Mike bellyflop after a failed jump that may or may not have been caused by El, with the puppiest of lovesick eyes that Jim had finally had enough. He sighed heavily, causing Will to glance at him, and he shook his head at the lost cause.

“Really, kid? Wheeler?” he lightly complained. He didn’t look at Will, but he could see him freeze in his peripheral vision, could feel the fear wafting off of him. Jim didn’t react to it, just took a sip of his beer before letting out another sigh. “I guess I am destined to have Wheeler as a fu—freaking in-law. But truly, kid,” he said, and finally looked at Will and ignored his wide eyes to lightly clap a hand on his knee. “You could do so much better.”

Will flinched, ever so slightly, at Jim’s hand moving towards him, and he seemed to be holding his breath, but Jim didn’t let it hurt him. Too much. It was understandable why he’d think someone like Jim, a former cop, might have some hidden prejudices. So he just squeezed Will’s knee before releasing it and settling back into his chair.

But Will just continued staring at him, blinking slowly, before his face slowly went from deathly pale to flushed pink. “I—” he started to squeak out, before clearing his throat and beginning to fidget with his own can of pop. He looked down, hunching his shoulders, before glancing back over at Jim. “I’m…he doesn’t…it’s not…”

“Will,” Jim said, fixing the boy with a look that caused him to snap his jaw shut. “What part of our family is normal?” His raised his brows and spread out a hand to indicate the pool and yard full of their massive found family, something even Jim hadn’t thought possible. “Your sister can literally kill people with her mind,” he dryly pointed out.

That caused Will to snort, a hesitant smile curling his lips. “That’s…fair,” he allowed carefully.

“Your paramour’s sister is probably a better shot than I am,” Jim continued without any ill will towards that. It was mostly the truth. “I’m somewhat friends with a Russian former prison guard. And there’s…” His eyes closed as though it was painful to admit. “Murray.”

Will let out a real laugh at that, before he looked away with an embarrassed look. “He’s not my…paramour,” he said, rolling his eyes at the last word.

“But you want him to be.” It wasn’t a question. Will looked up at Jim again, and though there was still that sense of wariness, Jim could see a small spark of hope in his eyes.

“That doesn’t…gross you out?”

“Oh it definitely grosses me out,” Jim said easily, but continued on before Will could become upset. “But just because it’s Mike. It grossed me out when El liked him too.” Will covered his mouth when a startled laugh left him, causing Jim to grin.

He glanced over at Joyce when he felt her eyes on him, and he gave her a small wink and nod. Her eyes moved towards Will, seeing his shocked and cautiously happy expression, and understanding dawned on her own face. She smiled at him, and even from here he could see her eyes shine with unshed tears before she turned back to her conversation with Robin and Steve.

Turning back to Will, Jim tried to offer an easy, open smile. By the way Will’s shoulders untensed, he thought he had to have succeeded at least a little bit. “You know more than just about anyone how short and precarious life can be. Why waste it judging someone for who they love, the way they were born? Just as pointless as judging them for the color of their skin.”

Jim indicated across the way with his beer can where Erica was sassing Lucas and Dustin about something. “You don’t judge the Sinclairs, do you?”

“Of course not,” Will rushed to say with a small frown. “They’re some of my best friends.”

“And you’re my…” Jim hesitated. He didn’t want to overstep, but…there was no denying he loved Joyce. For him, she was it, and that meant her kids were too. Just as his was hers. Whether or not he and Joyce ever got married, these were his kids now.

Jim looked at Will, who was looking back at him with that wary hopefulness again. He forced himself to expose some vulnerability, letting out a soft sigh as he moved to ruffle the boy’s hair who was probably a little too old to have his hair ruffled.

“And you’re my kid,” he finished, his voice a little gruff, though he’d deny it was from emotion. Or that said emotion bubbled up inside him again at the wide smile Will gave him. He cleared his throat, turning his gaze towards Mike and swallowing down another grimace. Christ.

“You like who you like. Anyone who causes you grief about that can come talk to me.” He let his gaze sweep over the party, taking in Joyce, Jonathan, Steve, El, even Mike, and all the others too. “And trust me. There’s gonna be a whole line behind me.”

Will flushed a little, chewing his bottom lip as he followed Jim’s line of sight. He hesitated, seemed to be bracing himself, and drew in a deep breath. “I’m gay,” he softly said, and the words sounded heavy on his tongue for how light he suddenly seemed after staring those two words that were anything but small or simple in a town like Hawkins.

“I know, son,” Jim murmured, and he leaned back in his chair as Will did the same, a relieved smile lighting the young man’s face as he relaxed fully and completely next to Jim for the first time. “I know.”

-

tagged: @derythcorvinus

[dandelion-blues]

Tales of Arcadia One-shot

A Precious Youngling

Also, on Ao3

Jim cooked and spiced a meal as much to perfection as much he could make it with the materials he had available on this cross-country trip to New Jersey. It should have smelled divine, especially when he hasn't eaten much today, but instead, it smelled unimaginably gross like moldy trash was thrown in and burnt, but no trash actually smelt good now to Jim.

Ugh, Jim hated this. He was supposed to be a chef, and now he couldn't even taste what he was making. Heck, he could barely stand to be in the vicinity when he was cooking, but he wanted to surprise his girlfriend, Claire. In any case, he did it. He just hoped it tasted alright.

Jim carefully picked up the dish that he made using an extra pan that he brought with him as the plate, being careful not to stumble with his longer legs since he's been doing an awful lot of that and made his way towards Claire.

He was greeted by friendly smiles and a sense of community that he didn't feel before when he was just human. Jim didn't know if it was the fact that he was a troll now (or well half), or that he helped save them from their greatest enemy, or most likely a combination of the two, but trolls were a lot more accepting of Jim now. In fact, they were more than accommodating and would even go out of their way to help him out in some way whether that was by giving him pointers or even hunting for forks (his favorite and practically only food he likes to eat now). It was really nice, as it was weird.

Jim was just at his ends wit with the trolls dancing around him and being so nice. Like he was suddenly so different. He was though, he wasn't human anymore. He didn’t even look or act like a human anymore. He just wanted them to act normal around him, not like he was made of glass.

Jim just wished he knew why there was a sudden change. Was it because he looked like a troll now? Did they really dislike him that much because he was a human? He wasn't even a proper troll though, his mentality seemed to switch at random, one moment he was acting like he used to then the next his troll instincts took over and he was growling at something. It was just so tiresome; he didn't understand any of this. He didn't even want to mention his looks. The few times he glimpsed himself in a reflective surface, his appearance had him scrambling back. He just couldn't bring himself to look at himself anymore.

Jim shook his head. He was going to spend this night with his girlfriend and not worry about his problems right now.

Luckily, despite not being able to taste the food that he made, Claire loved it, and she said it tasted amazing. The buzzing in his mind finally fully calmed down, and he was able to just relax with his girlfriend. They hung out all day (night whatever, since sunlight kills trolls. Will kill him). They talked for hours and dueled and he just got to enjoy being in Claire’s company. However, Claire started to yawn. The dark blue of the night started to lighten, indicating that the day was about to begin, and their new sleep schedule of sleeping in the daytime was about to begin.

“I’m so glad that we finally just got to relax and hang out today,” Claire said, stretching, “But now I’m going to pass out.” Claire smiles at him, her brown eyes filled with affection.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Jim nodded in affirmation but was still feeling restless.

“Also, don’t stay up too long,” Claire scolded, “You need your sleep too, even if you need less.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jim saluted.

Claire chuckles. Then grabs his hands in hers and looks lovingly into his eyes, “I love you, Jim.”

Jim gets a soft smile on his face, “I love you too. And have a good ni- sleep, Claire.” Jim rubs the back of his neck awkwardly at his slip-up.

“I will,” and pulls Jim down to give him a soft kiss and walks away.

Jim sighs happily, all his worries from earlier gone. However, as the morning ticks closer and more and more trolls are starting to hide away in the dark. Jim is once again left to his own thoughts and makes sure that everyone gets hidden away before the sun comes out.

However, before he could spiral into thinking about, well everything, a tall orange troll came up to him. His tan horns framed his mossy colored hair, “Now Trollhunter, I know it’s your duty to protect us, but a youngling such as yourself needs rest too. Why don’t you go to your guardian Blinkous and get some rest now.”

Jim is bewildered but says, “No it’s alright, I’m simply doing rounds to make sure everyone gets in the dark safely.”

The troll has this stern look in his eyes, “Now Trollhunter, a youngling like yourself needs more sleep than us older trolls, and it’s dangerous to still be out when the sunlight is approaching us quickly.”

Jim raises his hands up placating, “I know, I know. However, as a Trollhunter I need to make sure everyone is safe. Besides, I handled Gunmar, I can handle a little sunburn if it comes to it.” Jim tries to joke about the concern by stating that he can handle himself.

However, this doesn’t work as the large troll gasps in horror, “I know younglings are reckless, but not this! I am taking you to your guardian right this instant. There will be no risking your life, young troll.”

“W-what?!” Jim shrieks as the troll picks Jim up like a sack of potatoes and carries him over his shoulders. Jim tries fighting back, but the troll's grip remains strong. Jim eventually gives up, his face burning lavender. Jim’s grateful, though, that most trolls are already inside and are not seeing this embarrassment of Jim’s defeat. A few minutes later, after going across the whole camp, the troll finds the cave that Blinky was in and plops Jim gently down in the cave like he was handling a teddy bear. Jim sighs with relief and proceeds to flop down on the floor, covering his face in embarrassment, not even looking at Blinky.

“Tell your youngling that playing in the sun is no joke. His life is more important than patrolling around the camp when dawn is approaching.” The troll demands of Blinky.

Jim sputtered and shouted out a muffled “Hey!” with his covered face.

However, Jim gets cut off when the larger troll says, “Hush, the adults are talking now.” The troll continues with a glare at Blinky “I expect that our young Trollhunter will know the dangers of the sun when I see him next Blinkous Galadrigal.”

Blinky, bewildered by the whole encounter, concedes, “Of course, Heilad.”

The orange troll then huffs and leaves.

“Well, what is this I hear about playing in the sun, Master Jim?” Blinky says sternly but secretly smiles since Jim can’t see Blinky.

Jim mutters something incorrigible.

“What was that?” Blinky raises his eyebrow.

Jim sighs and uncovers his face, and glares at his mentor, his dad, “I was just going on patrols to make sure everyone was inside and protected from the sun, and just made a joke that since I beat Gunmar I could handle a little sunburn, and then that troll just dragged me here!”

Blinky six eyes go large, “Jim going in the sunlight would kill you! I know that you haven’t been a troll for that long, but it would be much worse than a sunburn.The sun is completely deadly to us!” Then Blinky starts to catastrophize and mutters to himself, “Oh dear, I’ve failed you as your troll guardian in informing you about what you need to know as a troll! I know that I’ve been busy as the leader, but that’s no excuse. I need-”

“Blinky!” Jim shouts. Blinky stops pacing and muttering. Jim breathes out, “I know the sunlight is dangerous to trolls. The first night when I became a troll, I burned myself.”

Blinky takes a moment to process what Jim says, then shouts, “YOU WHAT?!”

Blinky goes over to Jim, who is still on the ground, and frantically looks over him to see if he has any injuries. Once again, infinitely thankful that the armor wasn’t permanently stuck on his son and that now he was dressed in a shirt and shorts.

“Blinky,” Jim tries to get his dad’s attention, but Blinky is too focused on looking at his son for his injury.

“Blinky!” Again nothing.

“DAD!” Jim yells.

Blinky looks startled at his son, as Jim waves frantically at him. Except Blinky zeroes in on Jim’s hand, and specifically the darker splotch on Jim’s left hand.

“Your hand!” Blinky shouts and grabs Jim’s hand and inspects it.

“It’s fine, it barely hurt.” Jim says, looking away.

Jim thinks about that interaction with that troll earlier, Heilad? Then asks out loud, "Why are the trolls treating me so differently now? I can't be that different, can I?!" Then Jim growls and yells, "I'm still me!" And his free hand flings to his mouth, horrified that he growled at his mentor and father figure, and his ears subconsciously droop down.

Blinky looks wide-eyed at Jim and squeezes his hand assured that the hand wasn’t impairing and hurting Jim and reassures him, "Oh Master Jim. Yes, you will always be you. The trolls just now see how truly young you've always been, and younglings like yourself are a precious commodity since Gumm-Gumms have stolen our young, so the trolls are simply treating you like they would any other youngling and are worried for you."

Then Blinky continues, "But Jim, even if you are now half-troll, you still have your heart. A heart far better than mine. You're still a sensational chef. A wondrous friend. The most prodigious Trollhunter." Blinky smiles, his speech growing sincerity with every word and gently grabs Jim's other hand from his face with his left lower arm, and his other lower arm still holds Jim's other hand. Then Blinky forces Jim to look in his eyes with his upper arm by holding Jim's face. "A magnificent son. You may not be fully human anymore, and you may not be fully troll, but you will always be Master Jim to me, and no growls or angry outbursts will stop you from being you, or me from loving my son."

Jim burst into tears, needing to hear those comforting words from Blinky, from his dad.

"Oh, master Jim, it's alright, come here." And Blinky takes Jim in his arms and hugs and comforts him.

Jim cries and cries and eventually a high pitch whine escapes him when he thinks of all the horrible things that have just piled up after he turned into a half-troll, and he whimpers, not liking the new sounds that escape him and keens for his dad. Jim's scared and vulnerable and oh so new to his troll instincts that he doesn't know what to do.

Luckily, Blinky and Jim were already settled on the soft moss-filled ground because as soon after Jim began sobbing, Blinky knew that Jim would want to be held and comforted in his dad's embrace.

"Oh son," Blinky whispers to himself, his heart breaking at Jim's desperate keen, and takes Jim up in his arms cradling him close to his own hearthstone (what would be considered the troll equivalent to a heart) and murmurs sweet reassurances to Jim in both English and Trollish, and runs his fingers through Jim hair to calm him down. Jim holds tightly onto Blinky's suspender strap and sinks into Blinky's hold.

Eventually, Jim's crying subsides, and while his breath still hitches, he looks up into Blinky's six eyes with his sky blues and whispers, "I'm s-sorry." Jim clings shakily on Blinky's suspender and buries his face into his father's torso.

Blinky whispers, "There's nothing to be sorry for," and Jim seems to relax a little, his breath calming down as Blinky continues to card his fingers through Jim's hair and holds Jim. Jim smiles into Blinky’s chest, and mumbles, “Thanks.” Jim’s eyes droop, exhausted from crying and the long day, and falls asleep, feeling warm and protected in his father’s embrace.

Blinky smiles sadly at Jim and states, "I wish I could take away your fears and worries." Blinky sighs, "Even when I said before, "fear is but the precursor of valor.' Your valor, your valor exceeds anyone's, and I am so proud of you, and you can rest, you were victorious. You fought valiantly! I am just so proud to call you my son, and you deserve to have peace and rest as much, if not more than the rest of us. Even if it means telling a certain wizard to take a hike, I'll do my best to ensure your happiness, my son, and I'll always be here for you." Blinky promises.

Notes:

Just wanted to have this out fully on Tumblr. Enjoy!

Next TOA One-shot

[estrellami-1]

(Push Away the) Lonely Times

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Just this, please,” Steven says politely the next time he rolls through Melvald’s.

Jim stops, looks for a second, then sighs. “Y’know how Jim wann’ed me t’look after ya?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I’s a-thinkin’ there’s a conversation we best be havin’. Nuthin’ bad, not t’you, but we gotta get all the duckies in a row, huh?”

“Okay,” Steven agrees, slightly nervously. “Um. Now?”

Jim shrugs a shoulder. “Now. Or you’s could come over after work. Or I could come by yers.”

Steven considers it. “Now?”

“If you wanna,” Jim agrees. “‘Ere’s the whole of it. Yer folks ain’t lookin’ out for ya the way they’s supposed ta. Could mean lotsa trouble for ‘em. Could mean you get taken ‘way, put inna fos’er er summin’.”

“Oh,” Steven says quietly. He looks vaguely nauseous.

“Or you could stay wi’ me,” Jim continues. “No trouble. O’course, there might be when yer folks come back inna town, but Hop’s got ‘em.”

“Oh,” Steven says. “And… I can’t just keep living in my house?”

Jim shrugs. “Not the way we figure.”

“Oh.” He sighs. “I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

“You ain’t,” Jim says, a tad harshly for the situation, but the kid needs to know. “I’unnow who tol’ you yer an inconvenience, kid, but it ain’t true. You needa place t’stay. I gotta empty house, jus’ me rattlin’ ‘round in there.”

“Just you?” Steven parrots, in awe, like he can’t believe someone else would befall the same fate he did. Jim wants to hug Steven, punch a wall about it. He does neither, takes a slow, deep breath. Lets it out.

“Yeah, kiddo. Y’wanna keep me comp’ny?”

Steven thinks about it. Fidgets with his fingers, looks down, back up. “Y-yeah. Um. When?”

“Soon ‘s yer ready. I c’n pick up you ‘n yer stuff after m’ shift.”

“Okay,” Steven agrees, then looks at the groceries between them. “Should I buy this?”

Jim leans down to smile at Steve. “Long as yer in m’ house, y’don’t gotta buy nuthin’ y’don’t wanna. I’ll get groceries. You be a kid.”

Steven blinks. “But I’m not, sir. I’m ten. Practically an adult.”

The way he says that is metered, stilted, and Jim grits his teeth. “Yer father tell y’that, boy?”

“Yes, sir, he did.”

“Yer father’s wrong. Yer a kid ‘till y’ c’n get a job. By my math, y’got six years still.”

“Oh,” Steven says, eyes wide. “Okay. Um. I’m gonna go pack.” He hesitates. “Should I put these back?” He motions to the groceries.

Jim laughs. “‘S m’ job, kiddo, not yers. Y’ go pack.”

“Okay,” Steven agrees, running out of the store after another small smile directed at Jim.

Jim sighs, rubs a hand over his face, and starts to put away the groceries Steven had brought up. He pauses mid-reach and considers the brownie mix in his hand before changing course, stashing it behind his register and resolving to get a tub of ice cream after his shift. He’s a kid, after all, and kids deserve brownies and ice cream.

So do adults, Jim reminds himself, smiling a little. Not without humor, thinks, especially adults who take in ten-year-olds who are too young to be living on their own.

Jim Bronsaw doesn’t pretend to be a saint, but he knows he’s a decent person. Maybe even more than decent, sometimes.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme

[dustykneed]

Picture this; Bones holding Joanna, rocking her to sleep and the part in Beautiful Boy where it’s like “The monster's gone, He's on the run, And your daddy's here” is playing. :,)

Fatherhood gives you certain... skills. Coincidentally, this is also how Jim finds out that Bones sings.

:'))

[whynotimtired]

There's something so crushing about the theory that Hopper is actually Will's father, and it truly is the Jonathan of it all. Imagine Jonathan finding out and thinking what? really? For a split second before realizing that no, it's not both of them. That would be crazy. It's just Will. Of course it's just Will.

[gothamite-rambler]

Lex Luthor kidnapped Batman's children again.

Jim: You're going to beat the shit out of him again?

Batman (resolute): Yeah he kidnapped all five of my kids, I'm going to make him see God and then drag him back to life. I'm not conflicted about that.

Jim: That admission should make me stop you, but you'll have him live so I'm good with your plan.

Batman: Yep, can you turn around so I can sneak off, I'm burying my rage and it's make my brain not think critically at the moment.

Jim nodded looking in the opposite direction and Batman ran off ready to pulverize Lex Luthor for a second time.

[blu3-ja3]

Warning!

Slight descriptions of dead children, mentions of abuse and sexual assault of minors. You have been warned, it's not graphic but it's there!

Chapter 2

Tim's POV

"-im... Tim?" I woke up to the sound of Jason calling my name. His slightly curled auburn brown hair pulled back into a short ponytail with the white streaks of hairs, a new development from his mysterious revival, framing his face. Jason's myrtle green eyes had dark bags under them and were frantic as I moved from my current napping spot on the couch. His usual warm tan skin seemed to be paler than normal, he looked rough.

"Are you okay Jason? You don't look good?" Jason just shook his head and continued to walk towards the nearest hidden entrance into the batcave.

It's been about a day and 7 hours since gathering evidence from Jillian's apartment, Bruce and Barbara have been going over the camera footage. Babs found the men carrying out the rug, a very thick looking rug that doesn't fit the thickness or length of the actual rug. The two together have been following the van through the traffic cameras all around Gotham. They've yet to find where the van stopped.

And I've been focused on my own investigation, reading through what Jillian refers to as her dream journal mostly. Along with all the small paragraphs on each drawing, it's been a lot of reading. The only items I haven't checked have been Jillian's diary and her phone. The diary feels like an invasion but the phone has taken longer to open than Oracle expected.

Jason and I arrive at the cave as Damien brushes past us clearly frustrated. Jason continues to move towards Bruce who is currently getting into his Bat suit, he looks just as tired as Jason does. Jason stops in his stride to stand next to Alfred, the older man places a comforting hand onto Jason's shoulder.

"You're no longer in charge of this investigation Tim," Bruce said, cutting me off before I can speak.

"You are not to help in this investigation either. You, Damien, Duke, Stephanie, and Cassandra are not to help any further with this case. You'll continue your patrolling as normal but Nightwing will be monitoring you as you do so." Bruce turns to look at me in his full suit, his cowl not pulled over his face.

"Is that clear Tim?" The look on Bruce's face is one he holds when he wants no arguments. I set my jaw before taking a deep breath and releasing it.

"Only if I'm told why, one good reason," I demand, I watch as Jason's shoulders tense and Bruce's seem to fall. Both of them show signs of stress and exhaustion.

"I can give you two Tim. One: Some of the evidence recovered from Jillian's phone is graphic, I as your guardian and mentor don't feel comfortable with allowing you to continue your involvement with this investigation," Bruce's face is cold no emotions bleed through as he speaks clearly.

"Two," he continues, "The GCPD has recovered the body of Amila Gomez, the first kidnapped child and I won't allow any of my children to see or deal with whatever is about to happen with this case. Including you Timothy, as of this moment Jason will be chaperoning you through the cave and Dick while on patrol. Have I made myself clear?"

I nod my head and glanced at the bulletin board I'd started with Jason and Kon last night. Jason walked over to me and placed a gentle hand onto my shoulder, I looked up towards my older brother. His face contoured into a smile but it didn't meet his eyes, they looked like there was no light behind them. Similar to when Jason woke from a nightmare about Joker, it's a look similar to the one I've seen in the mirror.

"Jason," the brunette turned around to face Bruce, who now had his cowl on, "I don't want you or Dick involved either... Nor you Barbara. This case... I have a feeling it's going to take a toll and I don't want anyone else involved." Bruce said it with such a finality to it before he turned around and walked towards the Batmobile.

"What did you find? Jason?" I swallowed a lump in my throat before Jason began guiding me upstairs. As we entered the living room we were greeted by the rest of the household residents, Selina included.

"Why were we called here? What's going on?" Duke looked around confused as Jason stood next to Selina, I moved to sit down next to Kon.

"The batcave is off limits unless you have a chaperone, same with patrolling. Bruce has a case that has become intense, he doesn't want anyone stumbling across what he has found," Jason spoke clearly, I could feel my frustration mounting and snapped.

"What the hell did he find Jason? What's so horrible that we can't have access to the cave? That I was pulled from the case? I've seen a dead body before, we all have!" I barked, I hated being left in the dark. Selina stepped forwards and took a deep breath, looking to both Dick and Jason before she spoke.

"There were... Recording on Jillian's phone. They aren't pleasant, Bruce is taking the device to the police. But the most recent recording revealed something about the case, then the body was found," Selina hung her head before she looked at me, her dark brown eyes hold that same dulled look to them as Jason's do.

"Tim please. I know you don't like leaving a case when you've been involved, but just this once, listen to us... Listen to Bruce," Dick pleaded only satisfied when I nodded in agreement, "He's reassigned some minor cases and I'm to monitor you all on patrol while B is working."

Bruce's POV

I haven't felt this much rage and anger in a long time, not since Jason's death. I grip the steering wheel of the Batmobile harder as I drive towards the outer bridges that lead into Gotham. I see multiple GCPD vehicles parked, blocking off one section of the road and holding off a crowd of people.

I hide and park the Batmobile before moving through the multiple buildings on the edge of Gotham. It's raining which will make my approach quieter, as well as obscure myself from the multiple reports trying to get a peak of the crime scene.

I stick to the dark shadows that the bridge casts, the rain and overhead traffic muffling everything else. I walk up and stand next to Gordon, keeping my body in the shadows. I follow Gordon's eye line and spot the black body bag that has a small form in it. I make myself known to Gordon as the man nods to me. He walks over to stand under the bridge, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag.

"The body is being taken to the morgue on Jenkins Street, we have to let her parents positive ID her first," Gordon takes a deep drag of his cigarette before continuing, "But you need to take a look at the body. I'll warn you she was mutilated, sick fucks carved strange things into her body."

I nod looking past Gordon to the body bag. "Where was she found... Who found her?" I ask waiting for Gordon to stomp out his cigarette and walk ahead of me.

As Gordon talks I collect samples of the water, river bed, and take my own pictures of the crime scene. She was found by a couple who lived nearby, their dog wouldn't stop barking at something floating in the river. They thought the body was a log until they walked closer. I watch as two officers approach the body bag, I finish taking pictures of the scene.

The body was picked up and moved and Gordon followed closely beside it as everyone moved up and out of the river bed. The small crowd began yelling questions and pushing to get past, Gordon didn't pay them any attention and just got into his car before following the ambulance to the morgue. I followed taking an alternate route to arrive before the ambulance by a few minutes. Enough time for me to get up to the roof and find the skylight of the morgue, crouching down to watch.

I watch as two EMS roll the gurnee into the room and transfer the body bag onto the slab. As they walk out Gordon walks in followed closely by a woman in a white coat, they're talking amongst themselves about what to expect if the parents coming in give a positive ID.

I hear a car pulling in quickly, followed by the rapid footsteps of two people. Gordon steps out of the room and there are muffled conversations before Gordon re-enters the room. He's followed by a woman with dark brown hair and a man with auburn hair, the woman is in front of the man as they walk over to stand beside the slab. Gordon gives the coroner a nod before she unzips the body bag just enough to reveal the face.

I feel bile creep into my throat as the mother gives a blood curdling scream, turning to fall into the man's arms. The man tilts his head back as tears roll down his cheeks, his face morphs into a pained expression as Gordon asks if they know who the girl was. The man nods holding the woman tighter as she wails louder, Gordon nods the coroner again and she closes the body bag. Everyone begins to filter out of the room together, Gordon is the last to leave looking up towards me and nodding.

I slipped quickly through the skylight, moving towards the slab where the young girl's body laid. I take a deep breath mentally preparing for what I'm about to see. I reach up and in one quick motion unzip the body bag and take a step back.

It was horrific, every inch of the young girl's body had a strange language carved into it. I took a deep breath and tried not to gag. I pulled out a small kit from my belt and prepared myself to examine the dead body of 5 years old Amila Gomez.

First step Batman, first step... Examine the body, detonate abnormalities and take pictures of the body. I felt nauseous as I noticed the rope burns on the child's wrist and ankles, dark red and angry. The carvings on the chest and back seem to be continuous scripts that go from the limbs and circle together before stopping at the center of the chest and back. Where the script all meets and stops there's a large burn in the shape of the hand on both the center of chest and back.

The second step is to swab her body; under the nails, palms of the hands, soles of the feet and any wounds. I used six different vials for the process, one for nails, one for her hands, one for her feet, one for the rope burns, two for the multiple carvings on the body.

Last step samples: blood, skin, hair, and spit. I take a deep breath trying to calm the rapid beating of my heart as I go through the motions of collecting the samples from the body before me. A child, a little girl only a few years younger than Damian... One of the abducted girls is the same age as Damien, one is the same age as Duke and Cass... One is their classmate, a young girl that Tim saw regularly in class.

My head whips up as I hear the approaching footsteps of heels. I finish getting the last of my samples before I exit from the same skylight window I entered from. I find Gordon standing outside on the roof waiting patiently for me on the roof. I take another deep breath stealing my nerves because I have something else to do beyond this investigation.

"Batman, Oracle said you had something that you wanted to show me. They said it was important," Gordon's low timber rumbled as he stood with his hands in his coat.

"Commissioner, while investing Jillian Rodriguez's home I found her phone. After opening the device I came across recordings," My naturally deep baritone voice rumbles from deep within my chest. Gordon holds out with an expectant look on his face, there's a tiredness in his body.

"Gordon... I have to warn you, what's recorded on that phone isn't... Pleasant," Gordon cocks a brow as I continue, "It looks like she was trying to gather evidence, there's recordings of conversations with her sister, screenshots of texts, pictures with dates... There's a recording of Jillian being assaulted by her sister..."

I have to stop and take a deep breath, bile building in my throat. "The second to last audio recording is the main cause for concern... I think she was being sexually assaulted..." Gordon's eyes widened then his face hardened, "She reached out to her social worker multiple times regarding what she has, they never responded to her. Check that," I say as I move to place the colorful phone into Gordon's hands before grappling away to get to my car and drive back to the cave.

The drive felt longer than usual but once there I immediately got to work analyzing everything. Blood, hair and skin goes through a toxicology, each swab is wiped onto new disks before placed into different solutions one for each swab. Pictures are printed and the computer runs through different languages to try and find a match for the strange script. Crime scene samples are tested and checked.

I tense as a pair of familiar warm brown arms wrap around and hold my chest, I can feel her lay her head against my middle back. Her short hair tickles the back of my neck as she squeezes gently and I relax into Selina's hold. As I relax I can feel the fatigue weighing on me, and I realize I don't know what time it is.

"How long?" My voice cracks as it strains my vocal cords, another sign that time has slipped past me.

"It's been two days Bruce, let me ta-" Selina is interrupted by a loud beep followed by another. I look at the computer to see that a compound in the blood has been identified and that another body has been reported.

"Selina I ha-" Selina holds up a hand to stop me, lightly placing a kiss on my cheek.

"I'm coming with you," I start to talk when she holds up her hand again and continues, "Darling, I know what I'm getting myself into. I've lived in Gotham my whole life, sadly a dead body isn't a new sight." I hold her gaze as she continues to talk.

"We'll go to the crime scene and the morgue, I'll help you recover the evidence you need. Then once we're home you're bathing, eating, and then we'll cuddle till you sleep," there's a playful edge to her voice as Selina talks about cuddling... I honestly won't complain if that does happen.

It doesn't take Selina much to get suited up and for us to drive to the crime scene, it's close to the docks near storm drains. There's again a crowd of reports being held back by officers and barricades, we slip quickly past and down the hill towards Commissioner Gordon.

As I began to survey the scene I spotted two body bags, both similar sizes to the last one. Again a pit opens in my stomach and the same gnawing guilt rises to my throat. I repeat my steps from the last crime scene, collecting samples from the storm pipe, the nearby waters, and the mossy rocks. Doing the same process with the bodies after they're identified. Both girls have the same carvings in their bodies as well as rope burns and the strange hand burns on their chest and back.

I'm trying, desperately I'm trying to keep myself together as Selina and I wait for the bodies to ID. I can feel myself drifting away. Slipping into myself and letting my exhaustion get a better foot hold, fatigue burrowing its way into my muscles making itself a home there. But as soon as I start to relax, the cries of grieving families ring out and I feel a pit open in my stomach. I push it down as best I can while once again gathering as much evidence as I can from the two bodies.

The pit only seemed to grow deeper as time went on, this feeling mixed with my lack of sleep has only made everything all that more difficult to do. I jumped when Selina approached me and took over taking the final pictures of bodies. Once out of the morgue and moving towards the Batmobile did she speak up.

"Bruce, you look dead on your feet... Let me drive, okay?" Even behind her tinted goggles I could see the worry in her caramel brown eyes. I simply nod and pass her the keys, I feel a bit of relief as I sit in the passenger seat.

As we drive I feel Selina's hand reach under my cowl to remove it, I turn to look at her as she pulls her own goggles off. Her hand once again reaches up and caresses my cheek while she puts the Batmobile into auto piolet. When Selina turns to me the worry in her eyes has spread to her face.

"Bruce... You're crying, talk to me... Please?" I swallow around nothing before I begin to speak.

"Their children Selina, someone is doing this to children. The oldest one is the same age as Tim..." I take a deep breath trying to keep my voice steady as I continue talking, "They have a child Damian's age and they have those girls bound in ropes so tight it's bruising them. Whoever has them is carving things into their skin while they're still alive and I don't even know what to make of the burns." I hang my head low before I continue.

"The girl Tim's age, she has recordings on her phone... Of her being assaulted by her sister's boyfriend. It's horrible Selina I can't possibly imagine what that poor girl is dealing with now... I just want to find her, all of them and make sure they're safe." I let myself be pulled into a hug by Selina before I feel the car slow and stop.

As we get out I spot Dick at the computer, a rush of anxiety surges through me as I storm over to him. Dick stands quickly from the chair and holds his hands up in a mock surrender, my voice catches in my throat as I see the images of the carvings opened on the screen. Selina places a hand on my shoulder and I force myself to relax.

"Dick, what are you doing? I've told you I don't want any of you in the batcave or near the computer without Alfred," I say trying to keep my tone level, I feel Selina's hand start rubbing my lower back in an attempt to soothe me... It works a little.

"The symbols looked familiar... I've seen Raven write similar ones before, some I know I've seen her write before. I was drawing them out to send her way... Bruce nothing came up for a language in the Batcomputer system, please let me try this," Dick spoke fast as he turned back towards the numerous papers that have familiar strange symbols written on them.

I give a nod of approval to Dick before patting him on the back, I quickly place everything we gathered from the crime scene and bodies into their respective areas before removing my belt and stripping my suit. I hear the sound of the Oracle System pinging something but before I can turn to check Dick says it's just the chemical from the blood sample.

I let Selina guide me through the mansion and into the kitchen where Alfred handed me a plate of food, it's a simple chicken sandwich with a side salad and apple slices. I eat everything and drink two glasses of water before Selina drags me upstairs to our shared bathroom. The tub is steaming and I take my time to soak, letting Selina wash my hair before I wash myself and stumble out of the bathroom.

I let out a groan as the bone deep tension and exhaustion finally caught up with me. Laying in my bed I can feel the last bit of tension ooze out of me as Selina begins to gently rub and massage my back and shoulders. I let the tears fall silent into my pillow as I don't entirely know why I'm crying, but it's cathartic and helping.

After a bit of time Selina lays down next to me and pulls me into her chest, I instantly move to hold her. Once we're comfortable I can feel myself slowly slipping away, then Selina starts to hum softly and I let myself drift away in her embrace.

Cursed Gotham Masterpost

[zombocomme]

Between The Lines, Episode 5: I’ve got my ticket, and I’m a -goin’ home

Enjoy

SFW:PG/PG13: *mentions death, cancer, strained relationships, a father’s love, hardships implied/coming out trans, and some good ol’ fashioned crying

“But I'm a better man ,For having gone through it, Yes, I'm a better man, For having gone through” - Tear Down the House, by the Avett Brothers

🛤🏫🌾🚬🦇🕰✨️🫲🙂‍↕️🫱✨️🕰🦇🍻🌾🏫🛣

James Defroque and his son Jim sat together many miles away from the ministry, matching rocking chairs creaking softly on the wood planks of the manor’s veranda. Another warm sultry day in the south, the cicadas buzzing around them as Jim cracked open another cold beer, handing it to his father, both men content to watch the setting sun kiss the horizon goodbye, the light fading, going softly into the night. The day had been eventful, it had been one of James' good days, which were  often enough to pretend everything was fine and he was just tired the other days. They had gone that afternoon joy riding in the golf carts through the peach orchards, Jimmy wearing his sunglasses spinning the wheels on the turns, nearly tipping the damn thing, both of them whooping and hollering like young men in the country enjoying the life they had created together, having only each other for a long time…

And yet time marched on, seeming to slip through their fingers all too soon.

James looked his age, and older somehow, despite his still youthful face. James had not chosen eternity when he became a full blooded vampire. Not many had the stamina to live forever, and many chose not to live that long. James had resigned himself a long time ago to the finiteness of a mortal life, albeit what would have been a long one… had it not been for the cancer in his body, slowly taking more than his healing factor could replenish. And he was losing this battle.

Jim looked a little older though not by much, with a gentlemanly streak of grey at his temples and  dashing line of salt and pepper down his neatly trimmed beard.

 He, like his father, had chosen to give up his eternity years ago, the exchange meant to bring his “Little Lottie”, Charlotte, one of his twins, from the other side, from the ferryman’s plane beyond the grave to this one.  A choice he never regretted despite the knowledge that Copia and Millie were going to live forever, and he wouldn't, a real consequence he was reminded of daily as he spent his time treasuring his children and what time left he had with his father James.

James looked across the the little table beside him at his own son whom he had been finding every moment he could to bond with, and gave him a gentle smile, the long orange light surrounding the purple shadows of the oncoming night, “You look well son.” he said his voice a little more raspy than before, “The years have been kind to you”. Jim chuckled, “You’re not looking too bad yourself, considering,” he teased, lifting his beer.

James had become more pensive and sentimental as he loved on this borrowed time. He had a year left, maybe two. Without the healing factor of his vampirism, the cancer would have claimed him some years ago. But he could feel it in his bones, the way the sickness wormed its way into the warm dark places in his body, corrupting it cell by cell… he could count on one hand how many times he had regretted his decision to live the life of a mortal vampire.

Seeing his son now, looking much like he did at that age, stronger, younger, living a more fulfilled life in comparison, James ached with the realization that he didn’t have much longer to see where his son would go in life.

Where that life would lead. He wouldn’t see his grandchildren graduate and grow into the amazing people that they were inside. He wouldn’t see his greats come into the world either. No triple generation family photo would grace the walls of his beautiful home…

James had made the decision of mortality when he was a young man thinking it wise, banking on a long life that easily would have spanned a hundred and fifty years, but he never counted on the time he thought he had, being cut short. And now he was actively watching precious moments pass by… moments that he knew would end. It made them all the more precious…and also, all the more painful, that even on a good day like this one that he had enjoyed, it was sinking with the sun, a setting thing that he knew his eyes only had so long to watch happen again and again.

The insidious disease, its tendrils slowly spreading making his body more tired, and more achy, crying out with the need to rest, but rest be damned! He wouldn't sleep his life away, not what was left of it. Time once abundant now seemed cruelly limited. And he was determined to make the most of it.

His smile was bittersweet behind his glasses and mustache, the long sleeved button up and cozy sweater vest a shield against the sensations of chill that seemed to plague him these days, despite the warm June weather. He took a deep breath and sighed, savoring the scent of dusk, knowing it would be one of a numbered few left that he would experience, and in his ponderings, he reflected on what it meant. To live. To die. To go on the journey that follows the great sleep…

*Nihil was gone, as was Sister Imperator. And despite the ability of their ghosts to cling and humorously haunt the ministry, he knew he was the last of the old trio left really. And “the after” held no true promise that he too could return… or where he would even go… and it saddened him to know it, to know his son would someday make that journey also… Like looking in a mirror, Jim sat much like his father did on that porch, nursing a beer and rocking gently on his toes, a mirrored pose enjoying the summertime haze that the fading light left behind, thinking of better days, as night came in.*

James took a deep drag on his cigarette and spoke, the plume of smoke whisking away on the welcomed breeze, his voice low and rough, “You look a lot like me at your age,” he mused, studying his son’s face. “But you're stronger to be livin’ the life I could only ever dream of, a happy one hmm?” he chuckled, another plume of smoke rising into the warm night air. “Time is a curious thing isn’t it? It runs out so quickly, even when you think you have so much of it left.” He ashed the cigarette and put out the burning cherry in the clay ashtray he had kept around from when Jimmy had made it in art class once upon a time. 

“Mm.” was all Jim could muster, the ring in his throat growing tighter at his father’s words. He knew his old man was going through it, and he didn’t want to tell him to stop. Stop hurting him, stop reminding Jim that he was about to lose the man he had always wanted to make proud and failed many times. The man who he looked up to, even if they hadn’t been close in his youth. 

They had, only yesterday, it seemed, reconnected and seen life more fully for what it was, a gift, a thing to love that could transcend time and death. And yet, he felt his chest squeezing. He took another long gulp of his beer, finishing the dregs and reaching out to grab another. “It be that way don’t it” Jim said, a breath he knew he was holding refused to let go.

“True that,” James agreed, taking a sip of his own beer, smacking his lips. Everything tasted different now. He had his regrets. His failings. Things that had strained their relationship in the past. But like god knows the sparrow in the field, he knew his son. He had watched over him his whole life as best he could. He knew Jim was struggling to come to terms with the inevitability of it all, and he knew Jim had his own thoughts about his own mortality stewing in the background.

“Life doesn’t always play out the way we expect it to, does it?” James said with an air of finality. He glanced at his son, seeing the pain behind the forced smile. It hurt to see his son like this. Hurt him more than words could say…

He reached out and patted Jim on the shoulder, then gave him a firm squeeze as his eyes watered, his voice tight with emotion, cracked ever so slightly, “I’m proud of you, you know. You've raised a good family, and you’ve done well for yourself. And you found happiness. That’s all a father can hope for for his son.”

“Dammit Dad, if you make me cry again, I swear to god, I’m gonna eat that last brisket sandwich, ya hear?”

 James chuckled, a smile breaking through his usually stern exterior. A welcome sight after all these years and one Jim knew he would only see so often before he wouldn’t anymore. 

Jim sighed after a moment of their shared sniggering, James sighed with him, a triumphant air in his drinking the last of his beer, “Ya know, I’m gonna miss these nights”.

“Oh don’t you threaten me with that sammich, boy.” he said, his voice teasing, “Dyin’ or not I can still whip you!” Jim snorted on his beer and laughed, wiping the gathered tears that had been floating in his eye, his dad laughing heartily beside him.

They were even closer now, now that they shared the experience of parenthood, and found a measure of equality in their once strained relationship. But it was moments of levity like this that they realized they had always been close, belonging to the same silliness that so easily could connect between them.

“Yeah”, Jim said, “Me too.” 

“Settin’ us down a spell, enjoying the purdy view, passing the beer, shootin’ the shit, ramblin’ on about life and things.” James said, sounding like his own late father who had painted the porch white and who planted the pretty flowers that edged along the veranda.

Jim’s throat tightened once more as the lingering light all too soon gave up its glamor to pale and fade, making room for the velvet cloak of night. The symphony of frogs and crickets humming together in the night life filled the air with song. He had so much to say and so little time to say it. Where his mind flooded with things to ask and talk about with his dad, words faltered in his throat, the fleeting nature of time weighing on them both. 

Lantanas, bursting with color and light, hardy things that just seemed to grow and grow no matter how hands or weather abused them. This year they had come out more orange and pink, a color so sweet like a rainbow sorbet, so vivid  like the horizon where red and orange light had given way to the pink and purple hues as the set sun had passed the horizon line, though its glowing light lingered to welcome the night in, warmly.

James finished his own beer, the can making a soft tining noise as he tossed it into the little paper bag  in an empty planter where they had been keeping their empties in.

He let out a deep sigh, his gaze going out to the silhouettes of the sprawling Defroque peach orchard and the land beyond it. “There’s so much I still need to tell you, “ he said. “So much I want you to know.” 

“So much…” Jim echoed, his voice thickening with emotion as he tried to hold back the tears that were spilling over now, trying in vain to keep them at bay. 

James reached out and patted his son on the back, a gentle gesture of comfort he felt he had not done enough over the years, “It’s okay, son,” he said quietly. “Let it out. There’s no shame in tears.” 

“Ain’t no shame, daddy I just hate cryin’ so much.” Jim sniffed, grunting as he tried to harrumph the pain away. 

“I know. I know, "James said reassuringly, his hand still resting on Jim’s back. “It’s hard to show that kinda vulnerability. But son, crying is a natural thing. It doesn't make you weak. Not in the slightest.” He chuckled softly, “Hell, I’ve cried many-a-times in my day, even if you ain't seen it” he assured.

Jim leaned forward, feeling torn and raw. 

*He should be comforting his dad, but it seemed to be going the other way around.*

 The realization that there wasn’t much time left where he would have that luxury, of being comforted by his father’s hands, setting in. “No daddy I…I did.. I saw it a few times… damn near broke my heart…Matter of fact, it did… broke my heart as a boy even if I wasn't appreciative of how good I had it, how good you made it…”

*Knowing I done it. Knowing it was my fault you cried at night when you thought I was sleeping. Knowing I was the trouble...*

James looked at his son, his heart breaking a bit at the roughness in Jim’s voice. It killed him inside that they only had so many moments left like this one. But he wasn’t going to let this one slip by.

He reached up a hand, his grip firm yet gently, “Son, you have no idea how much you been a blessing to me. Even if you weren't always the most appreciative, you’ve grown into such an admirable man, and a wonderful father yourself despite the failings of me and mine… you broke the cycle of things that had a purpose but weren’t what you needed most, and now you’re being’ such a good daddy to Charlotte. To Ari/a. I couldn’t be more proud, If anything, that's my gift from you to me. Makin’ up for everything, I get to see that you made it in the end. Your babies have grown into fine young folks, and you're closer to them, more involved than I ever was to ya, and that's a testament to you appreciating your life enough to make it work. To make it better for them now. That’s what fathers do, mhm” he nodded.

Jim huffed a rueful laugh, “Oh bless your heart daddy…” Jim Rubbed his forehead, hating to tell his dad the truth about his life. “Lottie and I, well yeah, we’re like peas in a pod but Ari/a… we just don’t understand each other… Jesus Christ I wish I knew how to fix this…” Jim groaned defeatedly.

*The blowout he and his child, now “son”, both had earlier that summer had resulted in the kids being packed up and sent to their other dad’s place back in ministry valley for the rest of their summer… and now with the recent revelation how long James really had, Jim felt serious regret for letting his temper get the better of him, for sending them away, for not being the kind of person who could naturally understand and bond with his son the way he had with his other daughter… *

*It had felt easier when Ari/a was younger, when he just seemed a quirky, curious kid. But as he grew older and now with puberty starting, Ari/a felt more isolated and confused, prone to harsher moods and breakdowns that even Jim couldn’t handle. He felt like he was  just another father failing his “son”. His son, who should be here with him and Little Lottie to spend what may be the last summer with him and their grandfather.*

James, who could see the signs of this certain hurt, who had seen the same struggle in his day between him and his Jimmy boy, pleaded urgently with his son, “No Jimmy. No. You’re not failing him, son.” he said, trying to keep his voice gentle, “You’re struggling, and that's okay! No parent is perfect, and no matter what you do, kids are always gonna need what you couldn’t give 'em. It’s a tale, old as time, ‘ain’t nothin’ happen here that didn’t happen there’, you ain’t the first and won’t be the last, and that’s sayin’ somethin’." James continued.

"We all make mistakes, boy, but the important thing is that you’re trying your best to be there for him now, accepting him for who he is even if it’s hard, loving him enough to try and protect him from even yourself. You love that boy with all your heart too, and that’s more than a lot of kids get. You may be closer to Charlotte, hell, that girl is like her momma, sunshine and cookies with cream, who doesn’t adore that little blonde angel." James began to choke up.

"But you and Ari/a, you have a new chance to get to know him... As father and a ‘son’ now, and that's priceless. You have a new chance to find love with each other, so that you get to have moments like we have now, sooner rather than later, when it's too late. You got time, son, don’t waste it settin’ on what you can’t change…” Except, Ari/a was so much like Jim. the same need, the same hurt, the same disappointment, and the same struggle bounced around that boy's head, just like it had for Jim when he was Ari/a's age...

Jim sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, sniffing. He had been pushing the reality of the situation out of the way for a sense of fleeting sanity. The news about his father’s cancer had been shocking, to say the least. And his son trying to find himself, his sister on his side, it had felt like no one was on Jim's side.  He felt a similar feeling of isolation and loneliness that had more in common with his son than he thought. And this time, James was right about that. He and Ari/a had something important in common. And now he felt guilty for sending the kids away when he should have let them stay, and tried to find another way to make life work with his dad’s growing needs in his frailty from his illness. 

But he had been at his wits end a long time. He and Ari/a had said things to each other they shouldn’t have, and while he didn’t want to admit it out loud, he had been in the wrong. All he wanted right now was to pull his son into his arms and kiss those dark long curls on his head, and hold him close the way he wanted to hold his own dad right now. To say sorry. To comfort him. To make amends before life got too short or too complicated to do it in time… The feeling of a father slipping away in their lives was something he and his son had in common now. But more than anything, he wanted to see his son, happy; Jim wanted to Ari/a to know he was safe. He was loved. more than anything in the whole wide world...

*It was like trying to live with a hole in his shoe…something he walked with that made him feel raw and worn out. But despite how hard it would be to deal with it all, he wished now more than ever he had his own family gathered round him so he could hold on to them tight and never let go. James watched the emotions play out on his son’s face. Even with this pain of loss and grief looming, Jim was growing… his Jimmy boy was appreciating his life because  of him. Jim was realizing how fleeting time it could be because, well, James was dying…and in a way, that comforted the older man, that at least his own ending was a reason for his son to find a new beginning, that it would bring the family closer, that his final lessons to Jim were going to be the ones about life that really mattered, ���To live like you’re dyin’;” as an old song once put it…*

“I just feel like I blew it and now… now I’m praying the kids *want to come down for Christmas.” Jim winced as he felt the possibility of his son choosing to stay away punching him in the gut, knowing this may be the last one the whole family could get, and this time next year, his own daddy would be gone, or at the very least, on his way out… Christmas might be the last time James would have enough “good days” to enjoy with his family.

“You didn’t blow anything away, Jimmy boy,” James said sternly, “Life’s full of mistakes, hmm? ‘Wish-a-could-a done it different’, ain't no shortage of that when you're looking back… it’s what we do to mend them afterwards that matters.” He paused, his voice cracking slightly, “And your beautiful family is lead by your example more than you realize. They are loving, they are kind, they are forgiving, something I didn’t teach as much of and that *I wish-a could-a given more of to you… even if tensions are high, I got no doubt they'll come down, and we’ll have a gorgeous Christmas. Y'all need each other. I need ‘em too… and whos gonna tell a dyin’ man no.” he said, chuckling hopefully, trying to rouse Jim from the heartache he was carrying.

Jim reached up, holding his dad’s hand warm on his shoulder, feeling every vein and wrinkle, trying to memorize it, his emotions spilling over at the beautiful and painful truth of his father’s words, that felt like a blessing over his heart. His eyes squeezed and he felt his breath huff and hitch. James had seen this look many times… and he moved to hug his son…

*Because no matter how old he was, the young man across from him… that would always be his little Jimmy boy…a boy who needed his Daddy now more than ever. Even if he didn’t want to need him, James knew what Jim needed… And who could tell this dying man no…*

James wrapped his arms around his son, pulling him into a tight embrace. He held him close, as if trying to hold back the hands of time with all his might. 

This was his son, a little boy who’d grown into a young man, a brother to the other people in Milagro’s life, a husband who cherished Copia with all his heart the way James should have cherished his own late wife. Jim, who had become a wonderful father, playful, wise, and while strict, emanated love for his children in every way, in every moment he could. Something James hadn’t taught him, but that he was proud Jim had figured out before it was too late to *see him do it.

The little boy, who had become quite a man, yet no matter the years, the bond between father and son would always remain, because they both had watered and cared for that seed. And Like the lantanas, no matter what life had thrown at them, or what mistakes they had made, that love was stubborn and hard to kill, and he was grateful for that, as he kissed his son’s head. 

“It’s okay Jimmy my boy,” his voice a whisper choked with motion, “ It’s okay my boy. My sweet boy… Daddy’s here, I’m here, I ain't gone nowhere yet!” he cried, feeling Jim cling to him even tighter, soft sobs escaping to muffle in James' fleece vest, staining it with tears that had been needing to come out for a long, long time. 

James held his son tightly, rubbing small circles on his back, “Shhh, it’s okay, “ He murmured his own tears falling on the soft dark hair at his lips, the way it had felt when he held Jim  so small once… his mind wandered to that time, his baby boy so small and in need of his undying love. But the salt of those tears reminded him that he was here and now, in this moment, with his son, the way he had been all his life, even if he hadn’t been perfect at it, he had always been ready to be by Jim’s side through it all.

 “You’ll never walk alone, Jimmy. Maybe it feels like it does, but you’re not. Life hasn’t left you alone, ya hear me? You got a whole family that loves you… And I’ll always be here, my boy, if only in spirit when I leave this tired body. Love don’t die, Jim. And that will never change, ya hear me, won’t never change.” James said, cupping Jim's' saddened face to look at him. Both men crying, broke each other's hearts, and yet there was comfort in their shared grief.

James pulled Jim in again, hushing him quietly, rocking him gently in the tranquil night, letting Jim lean on him…

“I’m here Jimmy boy. I’m still here. And I ain’t going anywhere, not in the ways that count.”

They sat together as the night sounds seemed to hold space for them, the quiet settling in, like a protective blanket as James looked up at the winking stars. James was there to offer his son the gift of a steady presence in the face of what was probably his greatest pain, in the face of the unknown dark that would take him from his boy, and eventually, take Jim from Ari/a too. “I’m here for you Jim… no matter what happens or how one story ends to beget another. No matter the squalls and storms. No matter what comes our way… I’m here. And I love you.”

“I love you too daddy,” Jim's breath shuddered. He wished his dad’s arms would never leave from being around him.

“I love you more than you know,” James murmured as he continued rocking Jim softly in his arms, “You’ve always been my boy. My little boy. My everything. I’ve never stopped loving you, son. Not for a second. And I never will. Not even if I'm not here physically. My love for you is forever.” James pulled back slightly, holding Jim out to look him over, and take in every detail in that face that mirrored him in all the ways that mattered and more, “You understand that, right? I’m here for you. Even when I’m gone, My love, my spirit, will always be with you, winking at you like them stars.”

Jim nodded, feeling like his heart was both healing and breaking at the same time.

James put a hand to Jim’s cheek, his touch soft and gentle in the way he wished he had been more often in his time, “You're going to be okay Jimmy” he smiled softly, a thumb brushing a rivulets of tears away, “Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But one day, you’ll look back and realize you were stronger than you thought, and you’ll live long enough to see the fruit of that labor. I have confidence in you, son. More than you could ever imagine.”

Jim’s eyes gazed up at his dad, framed against a crown of starlight. It felt like a familiar moment back in time when he had been a boy. In tears like this, his daddy had cupped his son's face and smoothed out his hair, wiping away his tears the way he was doing now.

Daddy had been a super-hero then. A person who could make everything better when he was little. Even when he and his dad fought, even when he ran away from home, he always came back, his dad welcoming him home like a prodigal son every time. Some called it enabling. James called it ‘love unconditional’. 

Jim was suddenly also seeing himself from Ari/a’s eyes, his dad a glimpse into what he would look like later in life. Ari/a had once looked up at him this way. And the little boy in Jim watched as before his eyes his dad had gotten older, frailer, but despite the grey in his hair, the wrinkles in his face, the smile lines of a life well loved and lived, the frowny ones of grief where love was left persevering, there was a timelessness that looked at him from those old eyes, that comforted him with their familiarity, And for a moment, it felt like maybe… just…maybe… everything *would be okay.

James looked down at his son, his eyes filled with the same hope of timeless love. Age may have brought its tell-tale signs with it, but his affection was no shallower for it. Holding his son like this, it was as if no time had passed at all.

“Everything will be okay Jimmy…I promise you that.”

Later, as they closed up the house for the night, Jim’s phone rang, and he answered it. Ari/a was in trouble and needed him. But James needed him to. But James was immediately ready to go with Jim back to the valley, to do all he could to save his son, and his son’s son…

When Jim hung up the phone, he looked at his dad and the house the Defroque family had held stewardship over for generations. A monument full of memories and strength. He saw his father as part of it, a man who was as much a part of the place as the land it stood on.

“Daddy, we may not be back here for… a long time.”

*If you come with me, you may never see this palace again.*

James' eyes were steady and unwavering as he looked back at his son, a resolute fire flickering in their depths, “I know, and it breaks my heart. And I’m a-commin’, by and by, I’m a-commin’ with you, whether you like it or not” he smiled.

His expression faltered a bit as his gaze swept over the house, over the walls and rooms that held lifetimes of memory that had become such a  comfort to him in his last days. This house had seen their family through its ups and downs, providing shelter and strength during the hardest of times. To leave it behind, to potentially never return… It was a painful bittersweet realization. His gaze fell to Jim’s who wore a pained expression knowing what his father was giving up to come support him in fighting for his own family. But James wouldn’t have it, no sorrow for earthly things lost.

 “In the end Jimbo, you come in this world and leave it the same…naked as ya came, none of this, none of this goes with you” James said, gesturing around them, “ Defroque house and its legacy was only ever meant to leave you, the next generation with every opportunity I could give. You're doing the same for you and your children now. This house was never what the Defroque name stood for. It stood for unity in the darkest of times. It stood for getting our hands in the work for love and family. The house that Defroque built ain't in all this stuff and things, boy. It’s in the work for the love of our family that built it. Home ain't a house son. It’s where your love belongs. It’s where you set your roots, it’s where your heart builds a “you” shape in the lives of those you love. We’re goin’. Together. And that’s that. You've been building that legacy since you stepped up to be the man I taught you to be and more, something far beyond me, and I’ll be with you to see it through. Even unto to the end.”

Jim’s heart ached as he listened to his father’s words but he knew the truth in them. The Defroque house was more than a structure, more than the symbol of their family’s heritage and legacy. “House Defroque” was anywhere one lived, the name a symbol of his father’s father’s blood on trails broken and lives known. Something He would share with his children, somehow…somehow…

Jim smiled gratefully, appreciating the sacrifice his dad was making for him. One he gladly accepted despite the circumstances. One more joy ride out to the valley. One more adventure with his old man, to get his family back. In that moment, he saw life in his father’s eyes, his eyes twinkling like stars, standing tall and proud as the house, no, as the *home he had built in his love. “I couldn’t do this without you, “he said quietly. “You’ve always been my rock, dad. Our rock” he said, his eyes glancing at the family pictures where his own family photos were among them. 

*One in particular, of Jim during the first few months of his babies’ lives, looking at the camera, clearly sleep deprived but smiling, the happiest man on earth in that moment, in nothing but a white t-shirt and boxer shorts; Jim held a swaddled Charlotte in one arm and Ari/a in his lap, his free hand holding a bottle to his baby’s lips. Charlotte was fast asleep in his embrace, and Ari, his eyes ever wide and observing, was blinking up at his dad, the camera flash highlighting the way, that even back then, Jim’s babies, the way Ari/a loved, both their daddy. Felt loved and safe in his arms, as they should. It was a picture centered proudly next to a similar one of James cradling a baby Jimmy in his lap. The moment captured the patriarch as he cooed over his only son. 

The warmth of that moment leading to his own as a father, made Jim realize that his dad was right. James would always be there with him, in him, in all the ways that mattered.. And now, he was going to go make things right, he was going to be there for his own son in a way that a good father should. James' chest swelled with pride as he took his place behind his son, Jim clutching the phone with a fire burning in his chest, and a determined look on his face, a smile playing on his features as he felt the strength of every generation in his blood. “All right Daddy. Let’s go, let’s go get the kids back.”

At that moment, house Defroque had never stood taller…

[martyrbat]

madness – batman: haunted knight

[bubblesxo]

okay, for my de-aged gotham!bruce au

what if there was a new rogue running around de-aging everyone who got in their way? the trigger to turn back is unknown and seemingly random. so after bruce is de-aged, some of his old rogues are de-aged too. since their MOs are a bit different because they're at a different point in their lives (it depends for each one when they're de-aged to) bruce is their main source of information on them, meaning that the batfam is basically forced to let bruce work with them to fight the de-aged rogues.

rogues i want to include (so far): the penguin, the riddler, (of course) the joker (i want to find a way to include jerome so so so bad but i don't know how exactly yet), not sure who else as to the rogues.

but i also want to de-age selina and alfred at some point. maybe someone hit the manor at a gala or something. they play that off as when bruce was hit so bruce can walk around gotham without the cops scrambling to find bruce wayne.