#just that they’re back in the batcave and he’s on a table in he med bay

[dragonpyre]

Idk what it is but I just love drawing Jason fighting for his life

Commission info / ko-fi Part 2

[bigfan-fanfic]

Making Bad Look Good Part 2

A second part! Featuring... Two-Face, Deathstroke, Deadshot, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze, Mad Hatter, Hush, Zsasz, Klarion the Witch Boy, and the Court of Owls!

I got a ton of requests for these, and you’ve all been so helpful! This one’s for you!

Making Bad Look Good part 2 - a.k.a. another 6 Degrees of Evil Bacon

Warning: Long post ahead.

Two-Face - Harvey Dent

You met Two-Face back when he was District Attorney for Gotham.

He was no “Ce-SEAL-Your-Fate” Horton from Central City, but he was doing a bang-up job putting criminals behind bars, cracking their insanity pleas.

So you went to meet him after a case where he got the Penguin sentenced to Blackgate instead of Arkham.

Sure, he’ll probably escape, but the precedent the case sets is important.

“Mr. Wayne! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just came to meet our amazing new D.A.”

You make small talk, until you decide to ask him to lunch to congratulate him on the case.

He grins. “Okay. But we’ll flip a coin for the check. Heads, you pay. Tails, my treat.”

You shrug.

He flips a strange coin that he tells you is his lucky charm.

It comes up heads, on the side that looks like it’s been corroded.

You smirk. “That’s a double-headed coin, isn’t it?”

He laughs. “Yup. Most people don’t get it so quick.”

He shakes your hand and offers to pay anyway since you were such a good sport.

After he becomes Two-Face, it’s this moment you choose to remember...

Deathstroke and Deadshot - Slade Wilson and Floyd Lawton

There have been quite a few times when you were targeted by an assassin or two.

But that particular time, you were the prize for a competition between them.

Slade and Lawton had been hired to take you out, but only the actual killer would get the other half of the payment.

So one day, Deadshot is setting up the hit, angling a crazy shot to hit you through the back of the skull and bamboozle all ballistics tests. You come into range, and he shoots -

-only to see you get shoved out of the way by the eyepatch-ed Slade Wilson.

Bruce wants to sequester you in the Batcave, but instead, you tell him to set up a meeting as Batman.

It’s fun to throw money at problems.

On a rooftop, the Bat behind you, you offer Slade and Lawton double the total for your contract to give you the name of their employer and void the hit.

It’s technically against whatever assassin code there is, but you know, money tends to grease the wheels of any machine.

Deadshot takes the money and tells you it was some crackpot billionaire trying to get at Bruce. He also chuckles and says that he’s available if you ever have more money to throw and a grudge for him to carry out.

Deathstroke also takes the money and nods at you before leaving.

And while Slade comes back to torment you and your sons time and again, Floyd is actually quite pleasant. You sometimes hire him when you need security, which he calls easy money, and from that point, your husband almost never encounters him on the job...

Harley Quinn - Dr. Harleen Frances Quinzel

“Paging Dr. Quinzel. Dr. Quinzel, to the front desk.”

You and some other Gotham big shots were invited to Arkham for a publicity tour. Reporters are there, too, including Clark, so you feel pretty safe.

A surprisingly young woman comes to play tour guide, her hair in slight pigtails.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Quinzel. Currently I’m junior psychologist here at Arkham Asylum.” She has a bit of a New York accent, though you can tell she’s worked hard to soften it.

One reporter asks just how “junior” she is, and she gives an indulgent chuckle. “Yes, I graduated med school early, so I’m a bit young for a specialized doctor. But I’m also one of the only medical professionals still willing to work at Arkham, so I think that’s what counts, right?”

The tour goes well enough, until you raise your hand. “You’re the psychologist in charge of the Joker, right?”

Dr. Quinzel smiles in a strange way. “Yes, that I am.”

You frown. “And do you think, as a junior psychologist, you’re adequately prepared for him?”

“I know that I am a medical professional, Mr. Wayne, and I am certainly qualified to examine my patients.”

But Dr. Quinzel, just for a moment, looks fractured, torn. Like there’s some sort of internal war raging in her soul. But it gets absorbed in her too-wide smile.

You put it down to nerves about meeting the press, and let it go.

You always wonder if there was something you could’ve done for the woman, prevented it from all going wrong, prevented her from becoming Harley Quinn...

Poison Ivy - Dr. Pamela Isley

Pamela was going to college at about the same time you were. 

You weren’t friends, exactly, although you did both share a class in Professor Crane’s Intro Psych course (an elective for both of you).

There were a lot of rumors about her. You chose not to engage in the gossip, especially as it was a lot about her sleeping with her Biology professor for a better grade.

You had to do a project with her for your final grade, and she invited you to her apartment to work on it together.

It was full of plants. She mentions it before you have a chance to even think about bringing them up. 

“They’re my babies.” she jokes. “So much easier to take care of than pets.”

You smile. “All the oxygen probably helps you work better, right?”

She nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

She talks about how she’s going to be a botanist when she graduates, and she’s going to work for the EPA. She’s very self-interested, but genuine, and you have fun while working on the project.

But only a few weeks after you turn in the project, she disappears. Rumors abound about how she ran off with the Bio professor. Some say they were having an affair. Others are kinder and say they’re on a botanical conservation mission in some swamp somewhere.

Either way, you never see Pamela again.

At least, until Poison Ivy shows up in town...

(Side note: Drew Barrymore as Poison Ivy? Thoughts?)

Mr. Freeze - Dr. Victor Fries

Fries shows up one day out of nowhere

Just shooting with that cold gun.

He attacks a gala event for the Wayne Foundation and holds it up for jewelry and the cash being raised for the underprivileged of Gotham..

You glare at him. “You know you’re just taking money right out of the pocket of needy kids, right?”

“It’s for a good cause.” He says darkly.

“And what cause would that be?”

He sneers at you. “Disease research, mainly.”

The phrase surprises you.

Later, Bruce is doing research at the Batcave. “He goes by Mr. Freeze. Born: Victor Fries. Wife Nora suffers from Stage Four of a rare pneumonia-like condition known as MacGregor Syndrome. He had her cryogenically frozen, and now it seems like he’s turned to crime to fund his research into a cure.”

You hesitate. “Well... is there something we can do to help him?”

“Help him? May I remind you that he held hundreds of people hostage?”

“Well...” you shrug. “I just figure that maybe he wouldn’t be so... crime-y if his wife was being taken care of. I don’t know what I’d do if I was so close to losing you.”

Bruce softens slightly. “Look, Freeze committed a crime - several crimes, and he has to go to jail. But if it makes you feel better, we can have Wayne Enterprise’s medical division look into studying her disease. Judging from what I see here, MacGregor Syndrome has similarities with many other diseases. It might be a key in finding lots more cures.”

You smile and hug him. “Lead with that. Tell Fries that we’re willing to do that.”

Of course, Fries’ future crimes are due to the cost of maintaining his portable cryogenic suit, but you hear a lot less about it than you expect, especially since Nora is being taken care of...

Mad Hatter - Jervis Tetch

You were meeting a couple of old school friends at a tea parlor one day. It’s nice to escape the stress of your life and reminisce.

Roland and Alicia are a cute couple, and they tell you they have a baby on the way.

But the day is marred by a strange incident in which a small man in a top hat and tails (tuxedo tails) comes up to your table and starts babbling at Alicia, calling her “Alice” and trying to touch her blond hair, despite her attempts to shove him away..

Roland gets angry and punches the man, but before he can go any further, you pull him back.

The strange man glances at you. “The Dormouse...” he mutters, and walks away.

“What a creep.” Alicia shudders.

You’ve already figured it out. The man is deluded, thinking he’s the Mad Hatter, and he seems to be trying to fit everything into his Wonderland-inspired delusions. You tell Bruce about this, and he immediately agrees that Alicia is in danger.

You go to their hotel room to see them, warn them, but Roland answers the door wearing a bowler hat and Alicia is nowhere to be found.

Roland attacks you, knocking you out and kidnapping you.

Thankfully Bruce has been watching as Batman and follows.

You wake up tied to a chair around a tea table. Alicia is tied to another chair in an Alice-in-Wonderland costume, looking terrified. 

Jervis Tetch reveals himself and points out his minions, enslaved with his mind control headwear.

“Very spiffy, if I do say so myself.” you say cheerily. “Quite the milliner you are, my good sir.” (Alicia looks at you like you’re crazy)

Jervis loves the flattery, and it distracts him long enough for Batman to smash through the glass ceiling and knock the hat off his head, disabling the control.

Sure, no one was hurt much, but needless to say you would have to visit Alicia and Roland in the future instead of ever having them come to Gotham...

Hush - Dr. Tommy Elliot

“We’re having lunch with an old friend of mine.” Bruce announces.

You raise an eyebrow. “Wait a minute. Why don’t I know who this is? We have pretty much all the same old friends. I mean, we were together, like, all the time.”

“You remember Tommy, right?”

“Tommy? No, Tommy doesn’t ring a bell, hon.”

Bruce sighs, and you laugh. This is as animated as you’ve seen him in a while. “Come on, Tommy Elliot! Back when we were little! We used to play Robin Hood together in the park, and you two always fought over who got to be the Sheriff of Nottingham?”

“Yeah, nope. No memory of that.”

He sighs, but you go with him anyway. It hits you when you see the man at the restaurant. He was that kid! His parents were friends with Bruce’s parents. They had almost died in an accident when Bruce’s dad saved them.

He’d always try to play this strategy game thing with you and Bruce. It was only two players, and while he’d always beat Bruce (your husband wasn’t always the tactician he was now), he’d get really frustrated playing against you.

Tommy liked to try and get inside your head to beat you, figure out what you were going to do and then planning for it.

But you could tell what he was doing, and kept doing random moves you wouldn’t normally play, throwing him off and winning.

You didn’t like him much, and you kinda got the feeling he didn’t like Bruce that much either.

“Oh. That Tommy.”

Bruce looks at your worried face. “What’s wrong? If you really don’t want to, we can cancel.”

“Oh, hush. We’re already here. Least we can do is have a nice lunch...”

Zsasz - Victor Zsasz

It’s never a good sign when a payphone rings. So many bad reasons...

Not the least of which is that barely anyone even uses payphones anymore.

Let alone to call another payphone. I mean, how does that even work?

So it startles you when you’re walking Gotham (during the day, of course), and a payphone rings. No one else is around to answer it. 

You start to walk away, and then the next payphone rings when you reach it.

The other guy near it jumps like fifty feet in the air, but then goes to answer it.

He looks scared. “It’s... it’s for you.”

You sigh and take the phone

“Ignoring my calls? Naughty...”

“Um... wrong number. This is a payphone, not, uh, whoever you were calling.”

“This isn’t Y/N Wayne?”

“Yeah, no, it isn’t. May I ask who’s calling, though?”

“I know it’s you, Y/N. You don’t know me. Yet.”

“Look, I know Halloween’s coming up, but I’m not in the mood for Scream right now, okay?”

“This isn’t a scary movie, it’s real. My name is Zsasz.”

“Z- zsa... okay, how is that spelled?”

“Z. S. A. S. Z.”

“Oh, that’s beautiful. If you don’t mind me asking, is that Polish?”

“...What?”

“Sorry, I have to run, but it was nice talking to you!”

You run home and immediately tell Bruce you talked to Zsasz. Luckily you were running a trace with your phone - a little extra Tim developed for you. Within the hour, Batman has Zsasz in custody, saving the poor people he had kidnapped to add to his tally...

Klarion the Witch Boy

“Oh, hello! Who are you, little guy?”

The orange tabby glares at you with utter hate. It flicks its tail, but surprisingly, comes closer and curls around your legs.

It allows you to pick it up, and it purrs.

“Teekl! My word!” a boy comes running up to you, wearing a tailored suit and a newsboy cap. 

The boy snatches the tabby from you and pets it, despite how it looks like it wants to go back to you. “What were you doing with Teekl?”

“That’s its name? He’s a cute little guy. Uh, he just wandered in front of me and basically asked me to pet him.”

The boy glares at the cat. “You TALKED to him?”

The cat looks at him and rolls its eyes.

“Um, who are you, kid?”

He looks at you incredulously. “Seriously, mortal? You haven’t heard of me? I am Klarion! Klarion the Witch Boy! And this is my familiar, Teekl.”

You nod seriously. “Good for you, kid.”

He seems about to throw a tantrum, so you wave and leave the boy dumbfounded...

The Court of Owls

“Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time,

Ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime.

They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed,

Speak not a whispered word of them

Or they’ll send the Talon for your head...”

“That’s a stupid poem. It doesn’t even keep time.”

“It’s free verse.”

“Yeah, free ‘cause no one would pay for it.”

You and Bruce were only kids when you heard the old rhyme. Bruce was trying to scare you as a Halloween season joke, but it wasn’t working.

“Come on, Y/N! At least pretend to play along!”

Thomas Wayne enters the living room, and pretends to scold Bruce. “Now, Bruce, be hospitable to your guest. What’s the argument about?”

You smirk. “Bruce says that there’s a Court of Owls who eat limes and put talons on people’s heads.”

Thomas hunches down, making a spooky face. “Well, Y/N, it’s an old Gotham story. It’s a very bad thing that Bruce told you. You’ll have to be very careful now.”

He looks dead serious, and now you’re scared. “Really? What should I do, Mr. Wayne?”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “You’ll have to be a very good kid all your life, Y/N. Never go out after dark without your parents’ permission. Don’t ever cheat on a test. Don’t lie. And if you ever see someone in an Owl mask, look the other way and forget you saw it.”

He grins, dropping the facade. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I just couldn’t help it. Hope I didn’t scare you too badly.”

Being a stubborn child, you insist he didn’t. After all, you’re old enough not to be scared by that stuff anymore.

But on the way home, after your parents pick you up, you notice something.

A tall figure in an alley, wearing a stylized white Owl mask.

You quickly look away, trying to put it out of your head, mumbling the rhyme to yourself.

“Beware the Court of Owls...”

You forget about this until far later in life, after you, as Y/N Wayne, have become an enemy of the dreaded Court...

[flyingkiki]

Curiosity, 2/?

Oh, hohoho. I am so gone. These two are giving me tingly happy feelings. We needs to build our TimRae army. 

####

Raven had shitty family members, Tim noted. Not that it needed to go into his files on her because they already established that with her father, but seriously. Her demonic brothers were assholes, to say the least. He grunted as he swung his staff with all his bodyweight into the demon’s back, saving Batman from loosing an arm. But, fuck, man.

Basically, this is what’s happening:

Some cult, an offshoot of the Church of Trigon, has made its way into Gotham. For the past few days, they’ve been haphazardly opening portals and luring in demons into the city. They were under the belief a new lord of the underworld would bless them. Unfortunately, none of the demons that came into the world were demon lords – just angry demons out for some blood.

And, as it later turned out, after a half-sibling who killed their father.

Raven faintly wondered where she got her luck. All she wanted was to have some peace and quiet for the week – things were going surprisingly well in Jump. But no, some assholes had to play church and worship demons. What the fuck. She grunted and blocked an attack from one of the more gnarly demons, and flipped over it. She sent a ball of black energy to its back just as it was about to turn to her, and she watched as the demon skidded across the ground.

Raven briefly looked over her shoulder, making sure Red Robin and Batman were still alive somewhere in the forest clearing. Good, they still were. She faintly wondered if she should take them out for dinner as a peace offering for having to deal with her shitty family. Raven watched them struggle with a bigger demon – did these demons grow over the past few days? She furrowed her brows. Grunting, she turned back to the demon she was fighting and frowned.

“Sister,” red eyes glowed and the demons arms twitched, as it stood in front of her. The demon growled, fangs baring and it looked ready to pounce again.

“I hate my family,” Raven breathed, hands glowing and with a chant let go of a large blast of black energy.

“You killed father,”

Raven’s eyes widened as she listened to the first coherent sentence from the demon. They never really said anything, aside from sister. This was a first.

The demon growled, noting her opening, and pounced Raven. Fangs bared and claws sharp, it made a swipe at the smaller girl.

Raven grunted as she barely dodged the attack. She felt hot claws dig into her back and blood trickle down her side. She inhaled sharply as searing pain flashed through her body and she stumbled away from another attack. This was not good.

“Die,” the demon growled and started to run towards her.

“Raven!”

She faintly heard Tim in the background but her eyes were focused on the demon that was charging towards her. This whole situation was pissing her off. This stupid cult should have never started trying to bring demons into the world. Her brothers should just fuck off. And if she got her hands on one of the cult members, she’d –

The demon yelped as Raven’s soul self rose from her body. Her energy pulsed, anger and frustration running through her system. Her demon brothers should not be here. They should be no where civilians. She growled as her eyes glowed red, and her soul rose higher. Inky tendrils flooded the clearing, crawling over the floor and towards the two demons who were frozen to the stop.

Tim’s eyed widened as he watched Raven turn into her soul self. She rose off the ground, black energy pulsing through the air and black tentacles slithering across the floor towards the two demons. He inhaled sharply as her red eyes glowed, her face hooded and a shadow if a raven looming over her. He had never seen Raven use this kind of power before in battle, his heart hammered in his chest as a black tendril slithered just past his boots and towards the demon he and Batman were fighting earlier.

“Don’t come back,” Raven growled and with pulse of black energy, the demons were engulfed in the black tendrils. There were loud howls of pain and the tendrils crushed the demons into the ground. Black dust billowed in the air before slowly settling on the ground. The black tendrils slithered on the ground for a moment, before retreating back into Raven’s cape. Nothing was left of the demons.

“Raven,” Batman stepped next to Tim, watching as Raven lingered in the air. Her eyes continued to glow red as she stared at the pentagram on the forest floor. She turned to Batman, red eyes furrowed.

“They’re gone,” Batman supplied, waiting on guard for Raven’s next move.

Red eyes blinked and they flashed white. Familiar large purple-blue eyes stared down at Red Robin and Batman and she let out a soft gasp. The black energy around her disappeared and she landed unsteadily on her feet. She sent them an apologetic look.

“Sorry you had to see that,” she mumbled. She glanced at the pentagram before adjusting the hood over her head.

Batman nodded, eyes narrowing as he surveyed the scene. The cult members that summoned the demons were long gone after making a run for it during the battle. His frown deepened. This cat and mouse chase had to stop soon.

“You’re bleeding,” announced Red Robin, looking at the blossoming red patch over Raven’s right shoulder.

She forgot about that. Drawing her left hand underneath her cloak, Raven pressed her hand against the torn flesh. She winced. This might take a while to heal. “It’ll heal,” she said.

Tim frowned. He knew about her healing abilities, but he also knew that the display of massive amounts of energy can slow down her healing process. “Let’s go back to the cave,” he said. “Ride the Batmobile with us,”

Raven made a face. “I’ll fly,” she said and began levitating.

Batman frowned. “You lost blood and your energy is low. Better just ride with us,”

She waved them off and spun on her heels. Like hell was she going to ride a car in a shape of a bat. She knew they’d drive like Dick – like lunatics. “See you at the cave,” and without waiting for their reply, she flew off.

Batman frowned. “Stubborn,” he clicked his tongue.

Tim chuckled. “Seems pretty familiar,”

They arrived at the Batcave in record time and found Alfred making his way down into the med bay of the cave with some medical supplies and a steaming cup of tea. Alfred stopped and watched his two charges jump out of the Batmobile and remove their cowls. “Miss Raven is in the med bay. She arrived a few moments ago and we’ve been working on cleaning her wounds. Some of the cuts ran in deeper than expected,” he supplied as the trio walked towards the med bay.

Tim nodded, long black hair falling into his eyes. Pushing it back, he offered Alfred a soft smile. “Thanks, Al,”

Raven looked up from tending to her wounds. She had peeled off the top of her uniform, leaving her in a utilitarian black sports bra. Her bloodied cloak hung over the end of the bed she sat on. A bloodied sterile gauze was in her left hand, fresh from wiping away some of the blood from the back of her shoulder. “Hey,”

Bruce noticed the bloodied gauze. “Are you alright?”

Raven shrugged. “I’ve had worse,” she said. She thanked Alfred when he set new supplies next to her. “My family doesn’t like me all to much. I can pretty much say the feeling is mutual,”

“Do you think they are after you?” Bruce asked. “The demon you fought looked keen in killing you,”

Raven rolled her eyes. “Most people, and metas, would like to see me gone once they know who and what I am,” she sent a knowing smirk at Bruce, remembering the first time she met the Justice League and asked for help. It wasn’t a warm welcome, to say the least. She shook her head when Bruce continued to stare at her. “Honestly, no. I don’t think so. I’m not really very welcome in the family after we killed Trigon. We’re just dealing with a ragtag team of cult members and blood thirsty demons who find themselves on earth for the first time with no idea what to do expect kill,”

Bruce nodded. He sighed and pushed himself away from the medical cabinet he was leaning against. “Okay,” he began. “We’ll keep our ears close to the ground and listen for any new activities. I’ll coordinate with Oracle and see what we can do,” he said and began making his way out of the med bay. “Rest and get your energy back,”

“Understood,” replied Raven, watching Batman leave.

“Need help?”

Purple eyes slid over to Tim, her stare heavy and calculating. Raven reminded Tim a lot of Bruce, he could barely read her emotions. He eyed the bloodied gauze in her hand and took a small step forward, faintly wondering if he was stepping over boundaries. She was after all, half naked and they barely knew each other. Emphasis on the half-naked.

Raven watched Tim take another step forward, a tentative smile playing on his lips. She could feel several emotions coming off of him – concern, interest, curiosity, attraction. Raven blinked. Tim was so different from all the other Robin’s she met. Dick was a mix of seriousness with a strong intent of proving himself, he was strong willed, guarded, and such a hardheaded asshole sometimes; Jason was a wild mix of chaos and charm, and Damian was, well, Damian. The young boy was practically a storm of emotions. But Tim, Tim of all the Robins was a sea of calm in all of the chaos that goes around them – despite of the amount of caffeine he kept on drinking. She knew that he was the smartest of the Robins; an excellent strategist – she could practically feel how fast his brain works. Yet, he was so different from all the wildly active Robins she knew in her life. This intrigued Raven.

She titled her head and offered Tim a small smile. “Okay,”

Tim paused briefly, surprised that she would let him help her. Nodding, he stepped behind her on the med table and took a look at the three wounds that ran along her shoulder blades. He whistled at the sight of the gaping wounds. “Yikes,” Tim made a face. “Remind me to never get on the bad side of your family,”

Raven snorted.

With nimble fingers, he finished cleaning the wounds and set out to stitch them closed. He noted a few other scars that ran down her back and sides and disappeared into her uniform. He faintly wondered where they were from and what stories they told. These were not in her medical files. He always taught she could just heal herself completely.

“Sometimes, when I’m too tired, my healing process is slower than normal. Sometimes some scars stay,” said Raven suddenly, tilting her head just a little bit so she could see Tim over her shoulder.

Tim paused, blue eyes widening in surprise as they connected with amused purple eyes. His needle hovered close to her skin. “Huh? I –”

Using her good hand, she tapped the side of her head. “You think pretty loudly,” she quirked her lips. “Also, empath.”

“Oh!” Cheeks warmed, blue eyes averted from her amused purple ones and Tim focused on closing the wound on her shoulder. “Sorry,”

Raven shrugged, a small amused smile playing on her lips. “It’s okay,”

Tim concentrated on finishing his patch up job, trying to slow his thoughts down. After a few more moments of silence and after finally, finally, taping the last gauze over the wound, Tim was done. “I’m sure Cyborg does a better job at the tower,” he said after stepping away from the bed.

Raven looked at her shoulder briefly and hummed softly. Cyborg did a better job, but Tim didn’t need to know that. She looked up at Tim and tilted her head. “Thanks for the help,” she said and hopped off the table. She looked at what remained of her torn leotard and wondered if it was even worth trying to slip back on. She let out an exasperated sigh. Just her luck.

Tim watched Raven struggle to put her torn uniform back on. He averted his eyes briefly when he caught sight of her sports bra. Also, abs!

“Oh, wait. Here,” he said trying to hide his flustered voice and quickly turned on his heels, rummaging through one of the medical cabinets. Making a triumphant sound at the back of his throat, Tim turned around and grinned, offering Raven a grey t-shirt.

“I keep this here for emergencies,” he said as Raven took the offered shirt.

Raven chuckled softly and slipped on the oversized Superman shirt on her. She practically disappeared into the shirt as it hung over her body and fell mid-thigh. It was nice and soft, very comfortable. She looked at the worn Superman logo and she lifted an eyebrow at Tim. “Nice merch,”

Tim laughed, desperately trying to ignore how cute (?!?!) Raven looked in his shirt – she looked so small! “We taught it’d be nice to annoy Bruce once in a while,” he said. Blue eyes twinkled. “Jason has a full wardrobe and, uh, boxers,”

Raven rolled her eyes, amused still. “Of course he does,” her lips quirked a bit in a little smile. She picked up her torn robe and nodded at Tim. “Thanks for the help, Tim. I’m going to rest now,”

“No problem. Good night, Raven,” Tim watched as Raven walked out of the med bay, movements slow and graceful. As he watched her, he quickly squashed down any thoughts of how good she looked in his shirt. Tim swallowed and looked away, instead focused on putting away all medical equipment they just used. Notes, Tim, notes. Raven’s healing process is slower when she is drained. May leave scaring when healing slows down. Scars dip down the small of her back and tiny waist – oh god.

“Good night, Tim,”

Tim paused from returning the antiseptic and saw Raven pause briefly at the doorway and glance at him briefly before slipping through it. Tim blinked.

So much for taking notes, Tim.

[sassycassie-s-series]

All My Fault 3

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Damian Wayne/Batman

Rating: PG-11 (minor violence and injections)

Notes: (Masterlist) Lots of POV jumping in this one. Hope I don’t confuse you too much. If you don’t like shots be a little careful.

Tag List (Open): @batboys-and-other-messes @welovegroot @nanna-the-batmum @probsjosh

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

^^^^^

Damian hissed as he peeled the gauze off his wound.

“Need a hand?” Jason asked.

“No,” Damian snapped. He tutted at the injury on his arm. “Tt. By the way, gossip-mongering is unbecoming on men like you, Todd.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jason said blithely.

“I heard you talking with Grayson last night as you passed my quarters. I assure you that my emotional investment in Cloudburst was never romantic in nature.” He changed the bandage, beginning rough before remembering Cloudburst’s gentleness and mimicking it. It felt better and hurt less to rewrap his arm carefully.

“Uh-huh. Sure,” Jason said, clearly unconvinced, as he plopped down at a table, kicked his boots up, and started to go through some old case files.

Damian’s hand drifted to one of the throwing stars sitting near him, but he stopped, clenched his jaw, and went over to the boxing corner. He wrapped his hands and began to beat the sand out of the punching bag. Jason didn’t say a single word.

Everyone else made their way into the cave eventually. Including Cloudburst. Damian was still boxing, and Jason was still going through his case files. Tim sat at the computer immediately and started running through some programs. “Timeways are still closed. Unlikely to clear up at any point in the future,” Tim announced. “And until we can get the devices to access broken entrances to the time-stream to make repairs, no one will be making any time jumps. Ever again.”

^^^^^

On that grim pronouncement, Tim swiveled in the chair to look at me. “Looks like you’re stuck here for a while, Cloudburst,” he added.

I bit my lower lip. “What… what about a speedster?” I asked. “Like, I mean, you know, Barry. Or Wally. The Speed-Force.”

Everyone exchanged glances. “Every speedster on the planet that we know of at the moment is lost in the Speed-Force, Cloudy,” Dick said. “Once the Time Bombs hit, the speedsters were the first responders. No one has seen nor heard from Barry or Wally—not even Bart—since then.”

“Oh,” I said. “Welp. Apart from speedsters I don’t know any other way to travel through time. Guess I’m stuck here.” I shrugged. “Oh well. At least I'm with you guys.”

“Eeeyyy!” Dick said happily, throwing his arm around me. “That’s right! Who better to be stuck in an unfamiliar future with?”

I awkwardly hugged him back and pretended I didn’t notice Damian shoot us a look from halfway across the cave where he was still boxing. I tried really hard not to notice at how attractive he’d grown up to be now that he was my age—and not wearing a shirt. Muscular, chiseled, with soft-looking skin where it was bare of scars and injuries. I’d always thought Dick was the pretty boy and Jason was the hot one—yes there’s a difference—but looking at an adult Damian I started to reconsider my sorting.

Head out of the clouds, Cloudburst, I thought sharply at myself. Head. Out. Of. The. Clouds.

I managed not to stare and went over to Jason. “Whatcha workin’ on, Jaybird?” I asked casually. Since we used to be the same age before last night, he’d always been the closest to me.

“Just seeing if any of these old cold cases have anything to do with the Time Bombs,” Jason replied.

“Need a hand?”

“No offence, Cloudy, but I doubt you’d even understand what���s going on.”

“None taken. Okay. I'm gonna go change into my workout clothes and see what I can get done,” I said. “Hey Dick, still wanna teach me how to fight with escrima sticks?”

Dick perked up. “If you still wanna learn!” he replied brightly.

I grinned. “Absolutely.”

Damian glanced at me as I passed him, gave me a nod, and went back to boxing. I nodded back.

^^^^^

Once Cloudburst was gone, Damian relaxed a bit, wiping off his sweat with a towel and leaning against a cluttered-but-organized table on his hands, panting.

Dick leaned against the same side of the table but facing the opposite way, arms folded, with an interested expression on his face. “What’s on your mind, Little D?” he asked. “You haven’t said a word all morning.”

Damian shrugged, grabbed a water bottle, and downed half of it in several big swallows. He sighed and wiped off again, just to get a bit drier. “She’s… she’s even more beautiful than I remember her being. And she literally hasn’t changed since the last time I saw her,” he admitted.

“So… was Jason right? Did you actually have a crush on her when you were a teenager?”

Damian ducked his head between his arms. “I'm not going to deign that with a reply, Grayson,” he snapped, but Dick noticed his younger brother’s neck turning red—and not from the workout. Dick started chuckling, making sure to be quiet even though Tim and Jason could probably hear him.

“Oh my word, you did!”

“Shut up!” Damian growled, hands clenching to fists where they were braced against the side of the table.

“C’mon, Dames,” Dick entreated. “Cloudy’s a great girl! And now you’re the same age! It’s easier to pursue her when she’s not eight years older than you.”

“Grayson, so help me—”

“Damian,” Dick interrupted. “I won’t tease any more. I’m telling you now that everyone here—except maybe B—would approve.”

“I'm going to go shower,” Damian muttered, leaving the Batcave completely instead of showering in the cave’s showers.

Dick snickered to himself as Damian left and strolled over to Jason. “You were right, Jaybird,” he said.

“I know,” Jason said.

“So… we’re gonna conspire to get them together?” Dick asked, perching on the edge of the table.

Jason glanced up from his case files. “Is that even a question, big bird?” Jason retorted.

Dick smiled. “That’s what I thought.”

^^^^^

“Focus up, Cloudy!” Dick said, tapping me in the head with a non-electrified escrima stick so I’d stop looking around the Batcave in worry. “This isn’t the easiest combat style to learn so you gotta really want it, you hear?”

“I hear,” I said, spinning my pair of sticks the way Dick did. My spin was a little clumsier than his.

“Bend your knees. We’ll start slow and work our way up, okay?”

“Okay.”

I felt like I was in some old martial arts movie, going through a training montage.

It was like a swordfight. Except it was nothing like a swordfight. Dick and I stood closer than I would stand with a sword, which meant we had to get in closer to our enemy to attack them, but still farther away than we’d be hand-to-hand, and we were going with both arms at the same time. Which was hard. I wasn’t used to attacking and blocking at the same time while holding weapons.

Dick was fast. He had a lot of experience with this method of combat—and I had none.

I did my best, but I got smacked around a lot. Dick wasn’t hitting me hard, but the practice escrima sticks still made hollow thwacks when they struck me and Dick would say, “Tag! You’re it!” every. Freaking. Time. I would grunt and attack with as much renewed energy as I could muster. Sweat was dripping down my face and chest and gathering on the back of my neck.

^^^^^

Damian tried really hard to focus on the task at hand while Grayson and Cloudburst trained. He was supposed to be tracing Time Bomb paths all over the city and where they had jumped backwards in time to mess up history.

He was having a difficult time focusing. Cloudburst’s occasional grunt of frustration or pain at getting hit by one of Grayson’s practice escrima was distracting. Every time she sounded hurt he wanted to charge over and shove his brother off of her, telling Grayson to back off. He settled instead for looking over his shoulder to make sure blood hadn’t been drawn.

He caught his lower lip between his teeth and turned back to the map on his tablet. Focus, Wayne, focus, he thought sharply.

^^^^^

Once or twice I thought I caught Damian glancing at me whenever I’d get injured. I hadn’t even seen him come back in the cave—we’d bumped into each other when he was heading up to shower and I was heading down to train.

Finally, after… oh… a half-hour of me getting the snot beat out of me worse than when I was barely starting my training, I tapped out. Jason threw me a water bottle over his shoulder without even looking. I sprayed some of it on my face, shook it off, and then gulped down half of it. Panting, I stumbled off the training mat and over to where Tim was sitting at the computer. “‘Sup, Timbo?” I asked. “Figure anything new out?”

“Not in regards to you being stuck in the future,” Tim said distractedly.

“Speaking of which,” Alfred piped up, emerging from the med-bay. “Eight years of mutating viruses and bacteria mean if you leave this cave without the proper vaccinations, you could die.” He set a silver tray with ten carefully-organized syringes on it on the table.

I backed away from him, dropping my practice sticks. “Oh no. No, no, no,” I said, fear sweeping over me. “I’m sure I’ll be okay. Really.”

“Miss McCloud, I understand your distaste for injections, however it is necessary.”

“C’mon Cloudy, shots aren’t that bad!” Dick urged, prodding me in the back with his practice sticks.

“They’re not bad when you only have to get one or two a year,” I retorted. “Ten in one sitting is not going to happen.”

“Here,” Damian said, pushing off the table he’d been leaning against. He had on a loose black tank top, black jacket, and black jeans. “Hold my hand. Squeeze as hard as you want. I guarantee you won’t hurt me.”

“I really would rather do one at a time…” I said.

“Just the flu vaccine for this year and the tetanus shot you missed, then,” Alfred said. “The other vaccines can wait for the coming days.”

I really didn’t want to get a shot if I didn’t have to. I refused to move from where I’d backed up over the training mat even though Dick’s escrima stick was pressed against the base of my spine. He was adding more pressure and I returned it, absolutely not wanting to get a shot.

Damian approached the edge of the training mat and held his hand out to me. “Come along, McCloud. I promise the pain will be minimal,” he said. “A small pinch, and then it will be finished.”

I bit my lip and took a single step forward.

Dick had been applying so much pressure to his stick on my back that my relent had caused him to stumble forward.

I pressed my lips together and pinched my teeth around them, simultaneously biting both lips as best I could. When I reached the edge of the mat, I took Damian’s hand. My pulse was already pounding and my stomach churning. I hated shots almost as much as I hated spiders.

Damian guided me over to the table where Alfred had set the tray down. I let go of Damian’s hand long enough to boost myself up to sit on it.

“Which arm, Miss McCloud, do you prefer?” Alfred asked, picking up one of the smallest of the syringes.

“Left,” I said, staring straight ahead.

Damian took my right hand and stood just off-center to my right side. “Look at me, okay? Do not even acknowledge the existence of Pennyworth or anyone else in this room. You and I are the only ones who exist at this moment. Look at my eyes and concentrate on them. Squeeze my hand if you so require. Do try and relax your left arm.”

I licked my lower lip and did as he said, ignoring Alfred circling around Damian’s back to my left side and wiping off my skin to sanitize it. I stared straight into Damian’s left eye, urging myself to memorize the pattern of the hazel flecks in them. They were shaped like diamonds…

My left deltoid muscle started to sting. I clenched Damian’s hand hard, trying to distract myself from it. Look at his face, look at his face, look at his face. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it, I thought.

He gave me an encouraging nod, that almost turned into a smile. I flicked my gaze to his other eye, memorizing the pattern of flecks there too. His eyes were really green. Like, I’d seen some fairly bright green eyes on kids I’d gone to school with, but Damian’s had this vibrant, crystal-clear quality that I’d never noticed when he was younger.

My muscle stung again as the next injection went in. I gripped Damian’s hand even harder.

If I let my mind drift, it wandered to the hypnotic feeling that came with staring straight into Damian’s eyes and ignoring the rest of the world. Like when he’d initially brought me to the future the night before and reality sort of melted away like ice cream on hot pavement.

Alfred applied a Band-Aid to my arm. “There you are, Miss McCloud. All finished,” he said.

Damian gave me a look. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked quietly.

I hopped down off the table—and ignored how close to him I’d landed. Even though it was so close I could feel his body heat. “No I guess not. Thanks,” I said.

“Keep your arm moving so it doesn’t get sore,” Damian advised, letting my hand go and disappearing into the shadows of the cave.

I huffed and rolled my left arm around in my shoulder joint.

I caught Dick and Jason sharing a look as I crossed over to the training mat and picked up my practice escrima sticks again. “Okay, Dick. Let’s run through that exercise again. Just the exercise. Not the sparring.”

He spun his. “Whatever you say, Cloudy with a Chance of Rain,” he teased.

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