#that doesn't mean he's happy about Bruce being in the same room or even building | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grimdarling69 · 28 days ago

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Can I ask for part 9 of deaged dan and ellie please?🥹

Tbh I've been rereading it a lot and I'm excited to read what the batfam and jl reactions while going to where Damian and Dick is. I knowww that it's going to be a crazy ride especially with youngblood(is it really Youngblood? Or not?)

A large toxic blob incased the window on the door. Swirling and jumping individual blob ghosts. They cooed excitedly and pushed against the locked door in vain.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" He finally reached the door and opened it in a practiced manner of hiding behind and ducking. The swarm of blobs rushed past him into the den.

"Calm yourselves one at a time." Damian spoke to them as he walked hesitantly-not fearfully, Damian-back into the room. They swarmed around his head and chittered in a weirdly familiar language. He couldn't understand the language, but he recognized it? He was gaining ecto if he could recognize ghost dialect. He couldn't let Damian know he'd blame himself if he thought he put him in danger by letting him stay in the Realms. He couldn't leave him alone and was scared while he went through this. Damian needed him just as much as he needed him.

"You must have made a mistake. There's absolutely no way she would betray me. She's-this can't be happening." He muttered the last part and pushed through the blobs around him. He went to the table. Frostbite dropped files yesterday as something to do while the storm passes. He hadn't realized the weather would follow them to death. Apparently, in some 'biomes' in the Realms, it has weather but not the same it's all different. All at different times and patterns. The weather couldn't hurt ghosts, but it could hurt buildings and structures. Their cabin, luckily, was on the side of the island that the storm didn't reach, so they were told to stay put. He had gotten frostbite to give them paperwork so that he could convince Damian to do that instead of attempting to injure himself or the cores. It kind of worked he only had to chase him a few times.

"What's happening, Damian? What did they say?" He questioned, keeping in an eye in the weirdly calm swarm landing on the couch next to him. He captured his sons hands so he couldn't pull his hair out like he tended to do now. Damian face was covered in worry, fear, and maybe some regret.

"A group of heroes, including some of the founders of the Justice League and Constantine, are being transported by Pandora and Youngblood." He winced and glanced outside the window like he could see their ship.

"Bruce?" "And Todd, Drake, Brown, and Thomas."

"Shit. Well, we just have to explain to them what you told me, and they'll back off. Jason will be more than happy to knock Bruce into his senses if he doesn't. "

"I don't want them to know about this, about me-or them..."

"Damian, come on, they'd have had to at least know about the babies eventually. When you came home even-if you came to...live with me." Damian glanced around nervously, never meeting his eyes. Oh my god.

"But you never planned on returning, did you? You were going to let us think you committed suicide without any sign at all. Right? That was your plan to-to make us think we lost you!" He was yelling, and a distant voice told him he needed to calm down, but he really couldn't care less right now.

"I- didn't mean to make you think -" Damian was tearing up. He thinks absently that he's seen damian cry more these past few months than the past four years he's known him.

"I was going to follow you!" Damian seemed like he wanted to say something, but he needed to get his point across. He took a deep breath.

"When I got to the bridge, I was-in hysterics. I couldn't help but imagine you in the-the water. Hurt scared in pain, knocked around in the water-er. I thought you could have cracked your head open or just anything, and I had to-to save you! I just thought if i could follow you over that bridge...i could save you. " it was hard to see through the bluryness, but damian was the only thing he needed to see anyway.

"You would have been killed too..."

"I know."

"So why...?"

"Because you matter more to me than anything. You are my son, and you are Bruce's son, and you are Talias son."

"I-..."

"Let me finish. If Bruce didn't want you, you would have never been in the manor. It is impossible to make Bruce do something he truly doesn't want to do. You are a member of this crazy ass family because we want you. Bruce wants you. I want you. So don't push us away, please. "

"I just-i never doubted you!" It's always been bruce.

"Or any of the others, it's only Bruce, why?" He's afraid of his reaction most of all, like he knows something about him Dick doesn't.

"I told you about Jack Fenton, right? Well, before he sacrificed himself, he was cutting me open. As I screamed and cried and begged him to stop. That i was alive that I was his son didn't matter. What did matter was vlad. Jazz-you maybe called him begged him to save you. He told them-my mom all about ghosts about himself, and that stopped him. He said sorry to vlad instead of sorry to the son lying open and organs strewn across the room on the table. It was you who rushed forward and helped me. You who was always on my side so I can never doubt you but Bruce...I've had my share of father's and they haven't always been the best."

"He tries-"

"Sometimes trying isn't enough. But I trust you so...I'll give him a chance. I want to live with you but maybe we'll visit him."

"That's all I'm asking, baby bat." Maybe everything will be fine. Damian will see that Bruce isn't Jack, and everything will be fine. He goes to put his hand comfortingly on his shoulder but damian bypasses him and grabs him tight around the waist, burying his head into dicks clothes. Gripping him so tightly it hurts but he doesn't complain much too happy just hold his son. He grips him as tightly as he dares and rests his head on Damian.

"Richard."

"What, dami?" He turned his cheek from where he placed it on damians head so he could hear better.

"I think the babies are coming..." he pulls away suddenly to look at him, and sure enough, his stomach is glowing so bright his shirt is see-through. Damians face is pulled into an expression of wonder and fear. Shit shit shit. They'd thought we would have more time.

"I'll get frostbite. Just sit down." He helps him to the couch, and after making sure he knows to control his breathing, he runs out of the cabin to Frostbites. Luckily, he wasn't actually in human labor, but it was still extremely painful because of the fact that damian isn't a full ghost. Typically, it was more like a budding reproduction that plants do. A ghost and a ghostling go intangible and divide from each other. Frostbite believes damian will be strong enough for that to happen if they use ecto-dejecto+. Something he modified from the Fentons. He is extremely worried about this, as you could guess. He trusts Frostbite. He's like a large frosty and very intelligent retriever, but he's worried about the side effects of after rather than the immediate. They have no other idea it's this or nothing. Frostbite had said if the kids couldn't get out on their own, he would have to... cut them out. Ecto-dejecto+ it is!

"Frostbite! Frostbite!" He slammed into the large door and banged on it. It was probably unlocked like always, but this was faster. "Is it time?" He hears the resounding yell at foot from the door, and he flips backward so he doesn't get knocked out again.

"Yes! Obviously!" He turns back around and runs back to the cabin. He ignores frostbites yelling about getting his tools.

By the time he gets back, damian isn't on the couch anymore.

"Damian! Damian, where are you?" He's searching wildly around the room throwing things around. It had only taken him 6 minutes to get here and back. Please don't him have...have...

"In here!" Damian! From his old bedroom? Frostbite and him had been working in changing it into a temporary nursery just in case. Had Damian already...?

"Damian..?" He pushed open the door slowly.

"Shh, look!" Damian was smiling freely for the first time in a while. Completely free of the pain from just a few minutes ago. He was holding a baby, and another rested in a blue banket on the bed pushed against the wall, eyes darting around. Damian held another in a pink blanket in his arms, standing in the center. The baby's face was red, and tears steamed down its cheeks, but it wasn't actively crying.

"She just stopped crying. Here Ellie meet your..." he trailed off handing the baby over to him waiting for him to decide what he wanted to be called. They hadn't talked about it...

He couldn't help but tear up seeing the little baby. It didn't look like a newborn but maybe a month or 2 old. Still very young but bypassing the actual infant stage.

"Aren't they beautiful...What do you want to be called?" Damian picked up Dante and rocked him around the baby stared into space. The baby smiled so definitely more than a month. From the books he read it took about 6 or so weeks to smile actually smile instead of just gas.

"I don't know. Didn't think that far ahead." He took the corner of the blanket and gently wiped away the drying tears on her face.

"Im here! Great one! Princess!" Frostbite took forever seriously. And he was ignoring the title everyone insisted on using for him. They had offered to change it to Prince, but then it just felt too real? When he's called princess, it's funnier, less real, and like a joke, not like he's a literal prince of the literal fabric of the universe.

He pushed open the door and signaled to Frostbite standing in the broken doorway with his finger on his lips a classic be quiet sign he's sure ghosts would understand.

"Oh, well, I suppose we were worrying for nothing." Frostbite said once he finally got over the surprise. He was leaning over his shoulder or entire body technically from how large he was to peer at the baby girl. It was quite comical when he reached out a finger seemingly mesmerized at Ellies tiny little hand barely wrapped around half the finger when she grabbed it.

"Oh, I just love younglings. It has been centuries since I've seen such young neverborns. Though I believe it is just their human half influencing their age." The giant yeti seemed perfectly content to be trapped by the small hand.

"Do you think they'll ever gain their memories back?" Damian was sitting in the hand-carved rocking chair with ice and star designs all over it. He still held Dante in his arms. The baby simply watched its surroundings.

"I don't believe so but their cores personality should be similar and they might have a sense of deja vu sometimes but the amount of damage to their cores...I don't believe they will ever fully gain anything back." The yeti provided his much needed wisdom. "This is a new opportunity for them and you would be wise not to waste it, great one."

"I know, I won't its just i will miss them." Damian stared into his sons eyes not looking up at them.

"I know it is of no reconciliation, but...I will as well." Frostbite gently unraveled his claw from the baby and gathered his supplies. Leaving behind the ecto-dejecos without a word.

"You never answered me earlier about what you want to be called..." Damian said absent mindly in tone but completely focused on him.

"I did not realize it was such a big deal to you." Dick did. If he took up the uncle mantle, it would solidify the fact they were only brothers, but if he took up the grandfather title, Bruce and Alfred would be left out. He knew what he wanted, but bruce...its not he thinks Bruce will be furious or something at him it's more the quiet disappointment or regret he's worried about. Bruce was easy to anger but hard to disappoint, and every time he saw that look on his face...Bruce could also be a very jealous man.

"I thought about it what they'll call you guys. Alfred will be pops or grandpa. Bruce can have gramps. And you...can be papa..?" He can recognize the hopeful phrasing in his voice.

"I..thought Papa was for dads..." it's not a question really more like a dazed statement, but damian treats it like it is anyway.

"Not in the Midwest where I first came from. I used to call my grandparents, gama and Papa, when I was younger in that life. Before they died, we would drive for hours every holiday or on long weekends to see them." It was weird to hear him reminiscence about another life. Ellie gurgled, and he glanced down at the wiggly baby. Her fingers were in her mouths, and her eyes were locked with him. For the first time, he feels himself really look at her like a haze was lifted from his eyes. She had a tuft of dark brown hair almost black, her eyes were a startling unrecognizable hazel, her skin was slightly tan but barely like it was only just beginning to change. She had curious eyes and wild extremities like she wanted to get up and touch everything. She had a tiny brown mole beside her nose on her cheek-right in a crevice-a little above her mouth.

"It must have been nice."

"Yeah, it was." It wasn't an awkward silence but a quiet one just holding the babies he glanced over at Damian and saw Dante was asleep. Ellie was just about to fall asleep. Sh kept closing and opening her eyes at weird times.

He locked eyes with Damian and motioned toward the cribs. They were pushed against the wall between a dresser it was obvious the room wasn't even half finished.

The large bed shoved out the way, the pushed out of the way rocking chair and cribs the only sign of a nursery. The various other pieces of furniture were mismatched and aged.

He rocked Ellie, hoping to get her tired enough. He spied Damian, setting Dante down slowly in his crib. He made his way over to the cribs as well, just as Damian was reswaddling Dante. If his age assessment was correct, they'd stop that soon, but for now. Dante stayed fast asleep. He set Ellie down and attempted to fix her swaddling. He hoped he wouldn't fully wake her by messing with it. Luckily, she seemed to get the memo and fell asleep quickly. They turned back toward eachother he let out a relieved sigh and watched as Damian said goodnight to the babies and left the room looking back every step. He took one final glance at them and closed the door softly.

"What are we going to use for a baby moniter? Could Tucker have something we could use?" How would they even connect it? Tucker had said they had once tried internet in the realms but it would just explode randomly.

"No need. We're bonded, I feel their emotions." Ghost bonds at it again.

"Really? What are they feeling?" He needed to know if they liked him of course.

Damian hummed and answered thoughtfully " Loved, happy, content."

"Good."

"There is a...meeting soon between the leaders. It's an annual diplomatic meeting to discuss mostly trade and news. Tucker will be announcing the children as heirs to the Realms and..." Damian trailed off but it was obvious what he was going to say. Me.

"I thought you would be discussing the future when your older...?"

"We will discuss if i succeed him as he succeeded me once before. Tucker has done great work as king, and he enjoys it more than I do. The ancients will disagree they didn't like the fact I named him and sam as my heirs in the first place. The way to calm them is to act like I will succeed until we find a better plan."

"Right. Sam... Do you think she is also back in our world? Tucker became a ghost, but he told me that both you and Sam disappeared around the same time. What if she was reincarnated as well?" Damian listened intently but didn't speak just thinking. Damian didn't seem to have thought about it before and was now trying to think of he knew her.

"I already thought of that, and I already found her-him him, actually." Tucker walked through the door unburdened by it. He was dressed casually with a faded yellow sweater and a patched beanie on his head. You would never expect him to be a king. He still looked like young, not high school, but college for sure.

"Him? Who? Did you contact them?" Dick scoured his brain trying to think of anyone matching Sams personality.

"You already know him actually. He's on his way now." Tucker continued motioning toward the nursery door.

"Be quiet. They're sleeping, but how did you contact them?" Damian whispered loudly. Tucker peeked into the bedroom.

"So cute! I might just start up my babysitting gig up again. You're first on the list, of course, best friend privileges!" Tucker gleefully spoke, voice lower but excited.

"Absolutely not! Do you remember what happened at your last babysitting gig?" Damian pulled the door shut softly in a joking but final manor. Tucker scoffed and indignantly argued, "That wasn't even my fault! It was my mom's! She's the one who baked them!"

"Your mom baked babies...?" They both turned and looked at him confused before breaking out into hysteric laughter. A laughter so contagious he could barely stand up right.

"She didn't actually bake any kids, right?" He finally asked once he caught his breath, sparking another violent outburst of laughter.

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BOOM

"YES! DO IT AGAIN! DO IT AGAIN!" Green Lantern yelled out at Captain Yungblood, who stood at a cannon throwing cannonballs at floating puple rocks. When it hit them, fireworks sparked and went everywhere in a mixture of purple, green, and white. Flash senior looked around nervously, trying to stop then both before the big bat heard and yelled at them.

He kinda felt bad for the guy. Jason so deserves a cigarette for empathy. He scrouges around his jacket and pockets empty handed he searches around the floor, growing increasingly agitated. He knows he just had them, Jason just shared with John just a few minutes ago! He looked around accusingly. One of the brats must have stolen it. Green reared it's head begging him to teach the thief a lesson.

He latches his eyes on Tim just as he throws them into the sky to get blown to bits by the idiots. They don't even notice the extra fuel.

"Asshole!" Green clouded his vision as he stomped over to him and picked him up by his suit straps.

"It was for your own good!" He felt the green roar and rage behind his eyes. He could barely see past it, and weird purple haze around them made things even worse.

"Fuck you! And your do goody pretentious attitude!" He threw him at the ships cabin hitting the wood and shaking the whole ship. He felt eyes on him but he didn't care, Red Robin unleashed the bostaff and knocked his legs out form under him in one motion

"Red Hood! Stand down." Batman called from the top of the cabin shadows dampen the greens as his cape billows around him after he jumped down.

"Don't you dare tell me what to do!" He turned the green on his father, throwing a punch Batman barely managed to dodge.

"Jason -" Bruce grabbed his arms and wrapped himself around him, locking him in. He struggles wildly he's vaguely aware of Steph and Duke picking Tim up from the floor. Tim limps away, glaring at the other heros, they scattered into the corners of the ship, suddenly desperate to not be on the deck. God, what's wrong with him... he'd promised he'd never hurt his family again...this was a mistake he should have stayed behind in Gotham. Jason stopped fighting and let go, forcing his dad to follow him to the floor.

"Rough one, aren't you?" Pandora asks the tall alien looking amazon leers over them both. He wasn't a child, but his face reddens at the blatant condescension and scolding.

"We apologize if we interrupted anything." Bruce answers instead, saving him the embarrassment. "Not at all. It's good you're finally getting help here then."

"I'm afraid I don't follow?" Will any of these stupid fucking spirits just have a straight answer for just one question.

"Your liminalty? I can sense the ectoplasm on you it feels...like unsealed wine..." Pandora wrinkled her face as if she was imagining it. "Liminality?" He couldn't help but question out loud. "Ectoplasm? It's the...green goo, right?" Could the...pits actually just be ectoplasm? Wouldn't Constantine have, like, i don't know, exercised them??

Pandora groaned at his rambling and shook her head as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You should meet the chief. He'll fix you." With that sentence repeated in the same ever grave tone the giant warrior left. He turned to bruce, but he was only met with his stone cold thoughts he left without meeting his eyes, and Jason couldn't help but remember how many times he's heard 'i can fix you.' It made him nauseous. Before he could realise it he was standing on the open deck with only the purple and green smog surrounding him God fucking dammit.

A/n really sorry for how long it took to get this out i know most of the posts on this story are taking forever and I'm sorry about that I'm not discontinuing the story but I've had some major writers block lately and I've been trying to cure it by writing other stories but I've just been hating how all them turned out lately. I've been trying to write some captain marvel golden age i just feel like I'm missing parts of Billy and I just hate it so if anyone has some tips for writing him particularly please share otherwise hope yall enjoyed this part snd happy holidays to everyone!!

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batsbirdsandspeedstersohmy · 8 months ago

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I should have put this up earlier.

Wally unfortunately knows how the system works. Having been in the same spot Damian is in right now. When berry and Iris was fighting to get him after finding out Rudolph was abusing Wally. Wally keeps Dick focus even though both would love to just take Damian and refuse to let Bruce see him. It's looks worse to do so until they have him legally. Bruce is a bad parent but he not physically beating Damian so it be even harder. Then Wallys and that itself was hard enough.

Clark and John hear about all of it, John just recently becoming friends with Damian beg his dad to let him see and help his new friend.

Clark while doesn't say it to John is a big scare of being in the court room and how it might be hard to explain to his job and others how he knows Bruce. And why he hasn't gotten more inside details.

Superman and Wonder woman shows up in Gotham and ask Batman what the hell he thinks he doing. Clark says Bruce is being a hypocrite and reminds him about what Bruce said. When Clark didn't trust Conner. Diana is mostly just there as support and back up. Bruce doesn't say anything

The flash (both of them) want nothing to do with Batman.

Just about all Bruce's kids and their lover's call him a out on everything and say he being a bitch. Each with various different levels of mean and trying to reason with him. Tim and his lovers being the nicest. And Jason and Roy cursing Bruce out.

Red hood and arsenal do short at Batman when he comes into their territory. Of course not hurting him but sending the message that any good will they had is now gone.

Poor Duke is like I just got here???

All of the lower level heros are so confused on what is happening.

Gotham is a bit of chaos at the moment. All the smaller villains are like am staying the fuck away from everyone. Something is happening and all the bats are extra crazy.

Wayne enterprises stock goes down Tim works hard to be on damage control as the CEO of Wayne enterprises and not being on the side of Bruce.

Clark and Diana come back and talk to Bruce in the cave. He looks so bad clearly everything has not be good for him. They tell him this has to end. He destroying everyone and everything he built. When Bruce finally speaks he says it probably would have been better if Tim didn't pull him out of the time line.

Diana agrees but tells him only if he keeps on this track and he should clean up this mess.

Bruce says it doesn't matter Dick and wally are officially getting custody tomorrow. He judge is calling it and everyone knows Bruce lost.

Clark says Bruce needs to step away from Gotham and everything for a bit. This is not good

Dick and wally get custody over Damian the next day. They take all the boxes and the rest of Damian stuff back to their apartment.

Bruce has his lawyer cover all the rest of the details and bills Bruce goes on the Kent farm for a while. No Batman no Bruce Wayne.

Tim cleans up everyone's image the best he can.

Wally and Dick had pushed back their wedding for all of this. Now that everything is done they set a new date and all.

Tim with Clark's help moves the press to the wedding and how happy the family is.

Bruce doesn't go to the wedding.

Wally and Dick have an amazing wedding. Damian of course being a big part of it. As well as all of their families. The wedding is just about all super heros.

Bruce slowly trys to build up a good relationship with the rest of his kids again. Starting with Tim. It's a slow process.

Batman comes back to Gotham with duke and Tim at his side. Keeping him in check.

Dick and Wally and Damian live in buldhaven building a great life for themselves. The flash steps away from keystone and works in buldhaven with his family.

Jason and Roy let it leak that they actually been married for 2 years and had just eloped.

Damian isn't Robin he can't decide if he wants to become flambird or falcon. Cause peregrine falcon are the fastest bird this taking from both his dad's.

Damian gets in a few art galleries the family goes and sees every single one. Bruce does as well to remind him what he almost broke. Dick knows Bruce is going but doesn't do anything.

Bruce trys to be a better person and clean up the mess. Wally Dick and Damian of course don't have a relationship with him. Jason and Roy don't either so Bruce doesn't see his granddaughter.

Jason and Roy go to Dick and wally place for every holiday. Lian and Damian getting along well.

Life goes on and it becomes happy. What family was meant to be.

Some thoughts I have on cute story line/au

Wally and dick are dating took them forever to actually admit they got feeling for each other even if everyone else alrighty knew.

Wally is the flash berry is still alive and the flash. They kind of both are at the same time. No it's not confusing unless your arent from key stone or central city. If your from bludhaven you are to scared to ask due to seeing Nightwing and flash kissing. If your from anywhere else then you are probably confused.

Bruce gets lost in the time line

Dick unfortunately has to take up the mantle of Batman

Wally doesn't like that but support his boyfriend in any and everyway he can.

Dick moved back into the manner makes Damian Robin and works closely with him. Wally just about spends every night there even if he isn't living there technically. Since his name is on their old apartment and they don't fully want to lose it yet.

Dick and Damian become close. And thus Wally and Damian become close.

Damian starts seeing them as his parents. Calling them dad in different languages they don't know

Dick has an idea of what's Damian is doing. He knows his Damian even if they don't say it. Dick and wally refers to Damian as their kid.

Wally and Dick go to all meet the parents and Damian art shows and just every and anything they can. Damian will not say it but he is glad to have them there. He gets so upset if anything wrong happens cause he doesn't want them to think he not good enough anymore.

Wally and Dick get engaged Damian knew it was happening. He when with Dick to help pick out the rings. Well he when with Dick to help look at rings and get an idea of style. then waited as Wayne enterprises made something that would work for a speedster. He also inspected the ring very closely to make sure the people who made it didn't mess up.

Bruce comes back

Damian thinks he has to go back with Bruce and Wally and Dick won't want him anymore. Bruce of course thinks he is entitled to Damian. Wally and Dick are heart broken but think its best if Damian stays with Bruce.

Everyone but Bruce cry

Bruce is a bad parent and doesn't see Damian as anything but the killing machine he was trian to be and how he was right when he was dropping off at Bruce door step a few years ago.

Damian is the ring bearer for the wedding of course and hoes with them on wedding planning.

Alfred hates how Bruce is not showing love and how excited Damian is when Dick and wally come over. And how sad he gets as soon as they leave.

Alfred prints out adoption paperwork for what feels like the millionth time and instead of giving to Bruce puts in Dick pile of papers.

Wally and Dick almost cry when they find it and fill out what is their part. They take Damian out for ice cream. And ask Damian if he wants to be with them. Damian of course says yes and how their his dads and please don't leave him again.

They go back and start packing up stuff and go to the bat cave to get Bruce to sign the papers.

Bruce says no he will not and that they baby Damian and he needs to be watched carefully. Dick and Wally are going to get killed if they trust Damian so easily. And he will not let them take him.

Dick and wally are so upset dick gets mad. And yells at Bruce about how he been gone and Damian been hurt so much by him. Wally ends up being like Bruce you have 3 days otherwise we are taking this to court and taking our child back the hard way.

Damian doesnt understand why he can't go with them now. Wally unfortunately understands that it looks worse if they kidnap Damian by taking him now. They promised it only going to be a little bit and they get him very soon.

Damian spends the next three days packing up everything when he not busy. Alfred brings him boxes. Bruce tried to unpack things saying he not going anywhere. Alfred starts moving the boxes to a safe space that Bruce can't get to. But isn't Dick and Wally's place.

Bruce doesn't sign the papers

They go to court Dick and Wally get a lawyer for themselves and one for Damian. Bruce says it stupid for Damian to have his own one. And it's actually Dick and wally having two.

The judge ends up picking Damian a new lawyer and whoever wins have to pay for Damian's.

A lot of Damian's teachers are called in. Damian art teacher is one of the ones who help a lot. She brings up a project about their family tree and how Bruce and Talia are on there. But also Wally and Dick are on it. And Damian has put himself under them but arrows to Bruce and Talia with blood parents.

Talia ends up showing up. Which no one really knows how she knew what was happening. She says wants her son with Bruce that's why she drop him off at his place. (To train with the Batman)

I need to go to bed about 40 minute ago I'll come back and finish my thoughts

#i couldn't figure out how to end it #i have more angsty stuff in this part #but of course it be mess #i do love the idea of hood and arsenal just shoting at Batman and being like fuck you i dont wnat to see you again #and the eatch tower has so much tension when batman walks in #so many heros are confused but then again its batman and all of them where already scared of him #damian wayne #dick grayson #batfamily #bruce wayne #birdflash #batman #jayroy

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brawltogethernow · 4 years ago

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How would you, personally, go about writing a plot where twenty-something Dick Grayson has to take care of suddenly-deaged-to-just-after-his-parents'-deaths Bruce, who doesn't remember anything of his adult life? (I mean, other than Necessary Alfred.)

Well, the part of this concept that can really sock you in the face is. Dick knows exactly what Bruce needed to hear right after Martha and Thomas died.

Bruce, though not lacking for people trying to take care of him, did not get what he needed after becoming an orphan. He grew up, and he made the best of things, and he thought about what he needed from the world and didn’t get, and he became that, and that’s Batman, and that’s Bruce Wayne. When he saw a kid go through trauma very similar to his own, he had an entire playbook written by his own suffering and fixer tendencies ready to go. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best thing in the world for Dick Grayson short of his family spontaneously coming back from the dead, and things were good for a long time.

And now Dick Grayson, age, I don’t know, maybe the same age Bruce was when they met to intensify the parallels, has this playbook memorized. So.

Brief, miscellaneous scenario that’s about to cause the de-aging, to establish adult Bruce’s voice. He is motivated and capable with a strong sense of deadpan humor, and there is a large mishealed wound at his core. He is aware of this. He is used to working around it. He isn’t even that bitter about it, most of the time. Basically any supporting cast members filling out the scene could be interesting, so lacking an established roster to pull from you can use anybody. I think I'd use heroes who aren’t in the Batfam - characters with their own concepts of Batman but who don’t all know Bruce’s entire life story from a personal or Gothamite perspective. Dick is not present.

So something goes zam or zap or “Go back to your beginning, hero!” —Actually yeah, I like someone using magic to try to turn Batman into a baby but the symbolism catching wrong and rewinding him to when Batman was “born” instead. Some heavy-handedness is good with DC.

Elementary age Bruce Wayne is deeply unsettling. He intuits most of the situation without assistance or effort. He also doesn’t care. You can’t expect a pile of shattered glass to care about some sci-fi nonsense suddenly happening. He is a million years old. He hates you. He should be dead, they shouldn’t be dead, nothing is right. Breathing hurts, or, doesn’t, but should. It’s unconscionable that it doesn’t hurt to breathe. This child's despair is actively uncomfortable to be around. The grit of a nascent Batman grants him immunity to being comforted by the surrounding gaggle of semiprofessional child comforters. —I’m of the opinion that Bruce Wayne was probably a weird child to match the weird adult he grew up into, just initially happy about it, which I’d gun to make clear in his reactions even with the bottomless agony.

You could also snug a very traumatizingly timed identity reveal moment in here if somebody was tagging along who can go, WHY do I recognize this face from old news... WAIT.

Now Dick can show up. To a JL workroom, or the batcave, or maybe the manor, because I would want to demonstrate that Alfred is well versed in this and is sent back to a not great mental place by it. The old coping methods rise easily to hand even after decades, but he feels he never properly figured out how to fix the problems Bruce had in this period instead of just working around them. Eventually Bruce started working around Alfred’s inability to help. —But anywhere you put that sequence seems like it would drag the pacing.

So Dick shows up, and he crouches down with his characteristic gymnast’s fluidity, and he puts his hands on this kid’s shoulders, and he says...something. It’s not going to be okay. How could this ever be okay? The people assuring you it will aren’t trying to lie to you, there just aren’t words for this. But you can stop this from happening to anyone else. Opening with a conscious deployment of Bruce’s own words from a decade and then some ago, because Dick has always understood this element of their dynamic.

Except then he’s touching this real child who is warm under his hands and small. The shoulders under Dick’s hands are bony, which is a brain-meltingly irreconcilable detail with adult Bruce Wayne the meat slab. When Dick says, “My parents were killed when I was your age, too,” it’s a completely unintentional verbatim quote that crawls up out of his throat like a toad in a fairy tale. He hates that; he has a whole snarled up capital-T Thing about unconsciously parroting Bruce. But also it’s not like he’s going to stop comforting the actual child who now has a complicated look in his eyes—like he was drowning and then Dick threw him a life preserver and told him to hang on until they get to land because it’s impossible to reel him back up to the boat.

So then we go to the manor, and finally get to do some domestic nonsense, but hideous. Ugly conversations about coping and grief in your socks in the kitchen—when your parents just died, the sentence “The weather looks bad” is about your dead parents—because Alfred is coping by airing out whatever rooms Bruce used when he was smol he doesn’t now so hard you’ll never know they were shut up, which leaves Dick free to feed the child a fortifying dinner of instant oatmeal. (Mourning and food have a complex relationship, and I don’t feel food you actively enjoy is always a good choice!) This process involves Dick walking on the counter unnecessarily, which entertains Bruce for a quarter second before he’s swamped by guilt at having the audacity to enjoy something.

It’s miserable, but there’s a distinct glimmer of something promising under the murk. There’s this building surety that this could lead to something good. Bruce gave Dick the tools he needed to heal once, and as an adult Dick could repay that to this version of Bruce with interest.

And then Bruce pops back to normal, because that’s not how time works, with all of the ways that his emotional wounds healed wrong and healed open intact. But also with this Escher-like doubled recollection of the most formatively terrible point of his life, a short new version layered over the original that was pointing distinctly in a direction that would have sucked less.

#dynamic duo #DCU #batman #dick grayson #bruce wayne #(⓿‿⓿)#you don't actually WANT to leave it long enough #for them to establish a batman and robin-like dynamic that should be weirder than it is #because the more progress you make on kid bruce the worse it is when the status quo reasserts itself #and also we have seen that story before #though when dc is doing it well it proves that's not a drawback #and really committing to diverged timeline bruce as a separate character would be like #i'm listening.#phoenixyfriend #asks answered #notfic #w

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years ago

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Dangerous Love (Pt. 10 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 3K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

<- Previous part (09)

Next part (11)->

{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

Absence

The first week goes by terribly slow. The second is far worse. You're currently right in the middle of the third week since Bruce went to Washington to fight an alien invasion. And there's isn't much in the news yet. On the quick talk you had with Bruce, he told you they're doing their best to deal with the situation before the world starts freaking out. These aliens look like humans, but are far stronger. And Bruce is human. He has no superpower but his intelligence, and that's worrying you to death. You know how well he can deal with this, but it's different... Now that you love him, it's different. The very thought of losing him is suffocating, unbearable. You try your best not to think about it too much, but it's a paradox. How are you supposed to stop thinking about someone who's in your head 24/7?

During this time, Alfred has been a very good company. He doesn't speak much, but with time, you notice he feels a bit more comfortable being around you. He was probably one of the many people to try and talk Bruce out of the idea of bringing you here. But you understand him. If you were in his place, you'd probably do the same.

“So, do you like me now?” You ask him, seated on the kitchen island, watching as he takes the lasagna out of the oven. You made it yourself. Alfred gave you Bruce's tablet, so you would have something to distract yourself. One of the things you started doing was cooking. You try a new recipe every day, and you think you're improving.

“I'm growing used to your presence, Miss Quinzel. And I must admit you're doing quite well considering... You know what.”

“Considering I was a criminal. Harley Quinn's sister. Sentenced to life in prison twice?” It's getting easier to talk about your old life. It doesn't mean you like it, but you don't feel so attached to it anymore. You feel like you can exist apart from it, evolve, have a different life.

“Yes.” Alfred nods.

“Did you try to make Bruce, not like me? You know... You must've noticed something.”

“The effect you had on Master Bruce was immediate.” He starts, cutting a piece of the lasagna for you and for himself. “He even thought about sending you back to Belle Reve in the beginning. Whatever that was, I thought it would vanish with time but it didn't.” He puts the plate before you, and you watch the smoke coming from it as you listen to Alfred. “I often caught him looking at nothing, daydreaming, thinking... And when I went to ask about it, the first subject was always you.”

You're blushing, biting back a smile. “How much... How much do you think he likes me, Alfred?” Lowering your voice, you look at him, who sighs.

“I think he loves you, miss Quinzel.”

“Love...” You mumble, wondering if that could be true. Guess only time will tell. And you hope you'll have time, that whichever species is threatening Earth will be defeated. “I'm scared, you know... Of what may happen.”

“Don't worry. Master Bruce always comes back.”

“That's good to know,” you whisper more to yourself than to Alfred.

The bright part of the day was that Alfred actually complimented your lasagna. And for a moment you were able to smile and forget your worries. But later, at night, you're staring at the TV, news channel on, looking for any signs of Bruce. Anything about the aliens that might mean something... But there's nothing.

“Perhaps he'll have time to call you tonight, Miss Quinzel,” Alfred says, trying to calm you down.

Bruce probably asked him to look after you, because Alfred is always around, distracting you when you're starting to overthink, or just asking if you're alright. It's kind really, but you would like it better if it was Bruce doing all of those things. “Maybe. But he's always in such a rush... I can't bear the idea of him getting hurt.”

“Master Bruce is–” The sudden change in the TV gets your attention, and you're both staring when the 'Breaking News' letters come to the screen, in bright red.

“Live from Washington. A giant being, not from Earth, just arrived. He came out of the ship that was hovering over the city and–” The woman speaks fast, and behind her, the city is up in flames. The camera moves away from her, focusing on some kind of human-like beast with gray skin and spikes coming off his body. The thing is kneeled on the ground, like a stone. “He just came out of the spaceship and destroyed a few buildings on his way. He stopped now, but the Justice League is already trying to take him down. Despite the efforts, the... Being doesn't seem to get hurt. It's just sitting there...”

Your heart is beating so loud you can't even hear the woman now. Stumbling up from the couch, you walk away from the living room until you can't hear the TV anymore.

“Miss Quinzel,” Alfred calls, and you sit on the stairs, both hands on your head.

You should be there. You've been to missions before. You could help. “Alfred, how do I get there?” You speak fast, standing up to your feet and going back to your room.

“Bruce wouldn't want you to go.”

“I don't care. I have to help him.” Being here, doing nothing as Bruce is out there fighting a freaking giant gray alien is stupid. “I know I'm only human, but–”

You're cut off by a ring coming from the tablet. It's Bruce. Running to get it from the nightstand, you breathe out relieved to see it's a video call. Sitting on the bed, you answer it. Seeing him brings a smile to your lips. He's wearing the Batman suit, but without the mask. “Bruce.” You put the tablet on the nightstand, using the lamp to support it because your hands are shaking a little.

“(Y/N). How are you?”

“I'm fine... How are you? A-are you alright?” Pulling your feet up, you hug your knees. He looks tired.

“I'm alright, don't worry about me, sweetheart.”

“How can I not worry about you? I saw it on the news, like two minutes ago... The huge gray monster, Bruce. I'm going there to help you.” You speak fast, already thinking about how you'd actually get there. A commercial flight isn't really an option, not for you.

“No, (Y/N). If you were here I'd lose focus.”

“I won't distract you, I promise. I want to help.” You beg because that's the least you can do after everything he did for you. And you'd be helping people too, after being a villain.

“If you were here I'd lose focus because I'll want to protect you. And that would become my priority.” Bruce lowers his voice, and Alfred leaves after mumbling something about giving you some privacy. “(Y/N), I need you to know that if anything happens to me, you won't go back to Belle Reve.”

“What?” What the hell does he mean by that? He can't say something like that... “No! Don't you even-don't you even... Bruce, I don't wanna hear it. You have to make it back.” You speak fast, tears in your eyes. You can't lose him just when things are just starting. This can't be the end.

“Please, (Y/N)–”

“No! I don't wanna hear it.” You yell.

“(Y/N), listen!” Bruce shouts too, his voice louder than yours. His sudden outburst shuts you up, but you're a mess, tears rolling down as you're forced to face the possibility of his death. “I will not let them put you back in that prison. So I made plans just in case...” He makes a pause. “You'd live with a friend of mine. Well, with his mother on a farm in Smallville. It's a beautiful place. You'd have a calm life, but I must ask you not to startle Martha too much.”

“I don't wanna go anywhere, Bruce,” you beg, drying off some tears. “I just want you to come back.”

“I know, my love. But I had to do this. I would never leave you unprotected.” He gets tense suddenly when an explosion happens. “And I will leave you my money. To you and Alfred. You'd have all the means to rebuild your life as you want. In the farm or somewhere else. Study, buy a nice house–”

“Screw your money, Bruce. I want you!”

Another explosion and someone calls him. “I have to go... Take care of yourself, (Y/N).”

“Please, be careful.” I love you. The sentence comes to the tip of your tongue again, but you hold it back. “Come back to me.” You're still speaking when the connection is cut.

You just stay here, paralyzed, looking at the screen where Bruce was seconds ago. He was there, so close yet so far...

Time starts passing by in a blur. You stopped watching TV because you don't want to know what's happening out there. If Bruce dies... Alfred will be the one to tell you. And whatever comes next, it won't matter. At first, you were angry, furious, certain that you'd leave the mansion and head back to your old lair, straight back into your old life. But as the days go by, and turn into weeks, you realize you can't do that. You can't undo what Bruce did like it was nothing. You know that, if the worst happens, you'd want to honor the memory of the man you love. So you'd go to the stupid farm, live the rest of your days remembering the days you spent here, the few kisses you shared.

Sometime in the numbness, you made your way down to the cave, where you started putting all your anger, fear, and desperation on a punching bag. It soon became a daily activity, and it didn't take long until the skin on your knuckles broke. Alfred taught you how to wrap a bandage around your fists to help with the impact, but even so, the blood soon started to soak the white fabric. Bruce will be happy to know that you didn't revert back to your old ways... If he ever has the chance to know.

Today, almost a month after your last video call, you're cleaning your knuckles carefully, gasping when the pain hits. The skin is basically gone, and it's a nightmare just to clench your fists. But it's the only way you can cope. Pain is the only way you know how to deal with everything you're feeling. And above all that, you're feeling dizzy, sore. It's so damn cold today, but you refuse to take a coat with you because you'll warm up as soon as start punching the bag. With one last look in the mirror, you leave the bathroom, taking the bandages and wrapping them around your hands. You hear low voices, chattering, coming from downstairs. Did Alfred invite someone? Nobody came here since Bruce left.

Bruce... You're going crazy because you swear to God you hear his voice among the others. “Get it together. Don't think too much.” You repeat to yourself the motto you made, saying it again and again for the last weeks. “Get it together.” But you hear it again, and low footsteps.

You're telling yourself not to do this, that it's probably just your mind playing tricks, but you're soon at the hall, the voices filling your ears as you walk fast to the stairs. You're halfway there when you see him, climbing the last steps. You stop on your tracks, too scared to be seeing a ghost, a hallucination. Impulse wins over fear, and you're running towards him, too scared to reach nothing. But your heart stops and you start crying when you reach flesh, and you immediately jump onto his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. He's quick to hold you, sustaining your weight.

“Are you really here?” You mumble, your voice is weak and a little affected by the crying.

“I'm here. I'm back, sweetheart. It's over.”

You pull away just enough to kiss him, to make sure this is not a dream. You can feel your heart beating violently, and the kiss has to be brief because you're having a hard time catching your breath.

“Oh, my.” Someone says, and something gets your attention downstairs. When you look, you see the small group of people responsible for the chattering. The so-called Justice League. You jump down, suddenly noticing how you were clinging into Bruce.

“I didn't know you had company,” you mutter, fixing your hair. Bruce suddenly takes one of your hands, and then the other one.

“What's that?” He asks.

“I was on the verge of going mad so I befriended one of your punching bags.” As you speak, Bruce starts unwrapping the bandage, and you sigh because you didn't want him to see what's underneath.

“(Y/N).” He exclaims to see the wounds, the basically inexistent skin on your knuckles, and some blood already.

“I know, Bruce, I just... I didn't know what to do and... This is–” You're aware of the eight pairs of eyes on you. “You should give your friends some attention,” you whisper.

“Excuse me for a moment.” Bruce raises his voice before pulling you with him, back into the bedroom.

He's silent as he treats the wounds. It hurts like hell, so you bite your lip. The bandage he puts on is a different type, and then he wraps it all around your hand, and in between your fingers. He also applied some moisture to help the healing process. “Why did you do that?”

“Because that's the only way I know how to cope.” Bruce sits on the bed beside you, and you turn your body towards him. “I was... I was mad because I finally fell in love with someone and he could die, I...”

“Hey, let's not talk about it now, ok?” He brings his hand to your face, and you missed his touch so much. But there's a weird expression on his face, and his hand moves to your neck. “You're hot.”

“What?” You don't follow the sudden change.

“You have a fever.”

“Oh... Really? I didn't notice.” Well, you noticed the soreness and dizziness, and how your body has been weaker in the last two days.

Bruce goes to the bathroom again and comes back handing you a pill. “This will help lower your fever. Now come, let's get you a glass of water and introduce you to the League.”

He reaches out his hand and you take it. “Are you going to introduce me to them?”

“Of course.”

You take another route so you'll pass through the kitchen first. And then you make your way to the living room. Bruce is still holding your hand, and you're sure that won't go unnoticed. “Bruce, I think you should let go of my hand. They'll think we're together.” You whisper, forcing him to slow down his pace.

“They just saw us kissing. And you jumping in arms.” He stops, looking down at you.

“Oh... Sorry about that, I didn't know they were looking.”

“Do you think I'll hide our relationship?” Bruce furrows his eyebrows a little, his fingers caressing your chin.

“Won't you?” You was expecting that. You didn't think Bruce would ever let whatever is happening between you to get outside this mansion.

“Of course I won't.” He bends over to kiss you and you tiptoe to meet his lips halfway. “Now, come. They're excited to meet you.”

“Why would they be excited to meet me?” You mutter, shrugging your shoulders.

When you get to the living room, all eyes fall on you. Maybe they're curious to know the criminal Bruce sheltered. “(Y/N), these are Clark, Arthur, Diana, and Barry. Everyone, this is (Y/N) Quinzel.“ Bruce says, and you step forward to shake their hands.

“Hi,” you mumble, clearing your throat. “It's nice to meet you, guys. I've seen you on TV.”

“I've seen you on TV too,” Barry speaks up. “No offense.”

“None taken. Don't worry.” You assure him. “I made peace with my past.”

“So... You two, huh?” Arthur says with a smirk. He's holding a huge Trident, and you have no idea why he has this thing here with him.

“Bruce here couldn't stop talking about you," Diana says with a smile, and the others nod and giggle. They seem eager to embarrass Bruce somehow. But you're sure you're the one blushing because it's good to know that he was thinking about you as much as you were thinking about him.

“Age gap. Hot.” Arthur winks at you. Or at Bruce, you're not sure. And it only takes three words to make everyone a little uncomfortable.

“Arthur, would you shut up?” Diana gives him a hard stare.

“Can you talk to fish?” You ask him, trying to change the focus of the subject.

“In a way, yes.”

“That's cool. In an away.” Shrugging your shoulders and giving him a small smile, you exchange a glance with Bruce as the others giggle again.

“Sassy. We'll get along just fine.” Barry exclaims, high-fiving you.

“Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you want before you need to head back to you... Jurisdictions.” Bruce announces. “And as long as you don't say stupid things to my girlfriend.”

“He's talking to you, Arthur.” Clark comments.

“So you guys are officially dating?”

“Of course they are, Barry. Batman here couldn't seem to think about anything else than her during the whole mission.” Diana says in a sassy tone.

“Alright,” Bruce speaks up, sighing. “Make yourselves comfortable. Come, sweetheart.”

“It was nice to meet the girl who stole Batman's heart,” Arthur says as you start walking away with Bruce.

“Woman.” You correct him as you wave.

Bruce takes you upstairs again, and you can't help but smile like an idiot. You feel your cheeks warm, but you're not sure if it's the fever or if you're just blushing. Instead of stopping by your bedroom, Bruce keeps guiding you through the hall. Before you can say anything, he opens a door for you.

“I need a warm shower and attend to a few wounds. Thought you'd like to be around.” When you step in, you realize you've never been in his bedroom. It's huge. The bed seems to be twice the size of yours, and there's a lounge near a big window with a couch and a TV. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Ok.” He places a soft kiss on your lips before heading to the bathroom. There's another door here, which probably leads to a closet. But you don't want to intrude, so you just seat on the edge of his bed.

After a few minutes though, you can't help but wander around a little, looking at his stuff. It kinda feels like Bruce is allowing you to get to know him better, to get closer... A while after you end up by his nightstand, taking a picture up to get a closer look. It's a child Bruce, with his parents.

“I see you already met Martha and Thomas Wayne.” His voice scares you and you put the picture down.

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, (Y/N).” Bruce touches your arm, pulling you closer. You see a purple bruise on his neck, coming from his shoulder.

“You're hurt,” you say, pulling the collar of his shirt away so you can have a better look.

Bruce takes your hands in his, placing a kiss on the bandage wrapped around your knuckles. “I'm fine. Don't worry about me.”

“But–”

“Come here.” He pulls you towards the bed, sitting down, his back against the headboard. Taking a deep breath, you sit before him, but he keeps pulling you until your back is resting against his chest. “I fought a giant gray alien so I just want to sit here with you for a while.”

You smile to feel his arms around you, keeping you close, safe. You're very, very comfortable here, but you have to do something. So you move, turning around to face Bruce.

“What?”

“Sorry, but I have to kiss you.”

“Alright, but stop apologizing, ok? There's no reason to.” As he speaks, Bruce pulls you closer, a finger under your chin.

“Ok,” you mutter, smiling and slowly giving in into the kiss.

@fionanovasleftnut @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker

#imagine bruce #bruce imagine #bruce x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #imagine bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #ben affleck batman #batman x reader #imagine batman #batman imagine #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman fanfiction #justice league imagine

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 5 years ago

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The Best Things ~ J.V. (Part 1)

A/n: I'm so sorry but I DESPERATELY needed to get this off my chest before I exploded because I have absolutely NO self control.

I made a playlist

Word Count: 5000+

MASTERLIST

Come in sets of two...

Y/n was an oddball.

At least that's what his parents said- a lot.

"You're such an oddball."

It seemed that they meant it endearingly, but the words stuck with Y/n much more than they probably should have. And maybe that was less because of his parents or even his brother and more because of the media and the other kids that treated him very differently than they usually treated other people.

It probably didn't help that he was a Wayne.

Bruce Wayne was an absolute golden boy. He was responsible, driven, intelligent. He was a staple for Boys Going Somewhere. A face to an idea that everyone absolutely adored. It was known very well that Bruce was going to be the successor to Wayne Enterprises- even though Y/n was two years older. Bruce was good to the core, with a wide smile but a certain professionalism that most adults didn't ever master.He was level headed and figured things out very easily. His parents were incredibly proud of him and held him very dearly, and it showed.

Y/n wasn't anything like him. He preferred staying up late and watching the stars or the sun set and then rise again, compared to understanding anything about business. He was somewhat of an artist. He had notebooks full of drawings and his room was covered with thumbtacked paintings he'd put on his wall with pride, even though most of them were what he was known for: people, animals, or objects that he'd fixated on long enough to paint them... except that they were often multiple things in one painting, and they were all mashed together in a rather alarming sight. He walked around with paint in his hair and on his clothes, his eyes bright and shining and his energy completely uncontained. He had no sense of self control or when to be quiet or calm. Most often he wasn't even found at home, as he went to school and then hung out with friends he'd made on the streets.

It was instantly incredibly obvious the drastic difference between the two boys, and people had been bidding on which one would succeed and which one would flop the very first second Bruce had been born. Every bet was on Bruce making it.

Despite everything, Y/n and Bruce got along very well. Y/n was rather emotional and got upset very quickly when he was ignored, which worked quite nicely with Bruce's curiosity. Y/n could go on for hours about the same thing and Bruce would listen. Bruce could ask questions about one painting for just as long and Y/n would eagerly answer each one, going into as much detail as possible. Y/n pulled Bruce out of his comfort zone and gave him a little fun outside of the expectations that were constantly pressing down on him. Likewise, Bruce took up the mantle and allowed Y/n the complete freedom to be himself and be appreciated for it.

Even the boys' parents had a pretty steady relationship with Y/n. They found him to be a little much, but with Bruce leaving them reassured that their company would be in a pair of capable hands, they were perfectly fine with letting Y/n go absolutely wild. As log as he was safe and everything he did was legal. They might live in Gotham, but the Waynes were good people and that wasn't changing anytime soon.

Overall, they were a very happy family.

Everything changed the night Thomas and Martha Wayne were shot dead on a way home from a movie they'd taken Bruce to.

It had been a night out like any other. Y/n stayed home as usual- it was the only time he could turn his music all the way up and completely lose himself in whatever he wanted to. The others didn't mind. It let Y/n blow off steam and made him much calmer for a while; in addition, they had a night out together and got to bond with Bruce. Sometimes they'd take just Y/n, and sometimes Y/n and Bruce would go out together without their parents, but most of the time it was Thomas and Martha and Bruce, and each Wayne was okay with that.

Y/n was staring at a half painted canvas, eyes wide and fingers trailing the path of his lips. He was loving the loudness and the thumping of the beat under his feet. Like it was in his blood. He smiled, raising the paintbrush.

The door busted open. "Y/N!"

Y/n spun around, startled. In the sharp movement, he knocked over a tiny bowl full of paint. Alfred reached over, turning the music off. "Your parents were shot and killed. Bruce is home early." Red paint dripped down the easel and over Y/n's shoes as the words tried to sink in but failed.It was like looking at something see through or invisible. Like feeling the breeze and wishing to catch it, but never able to close your fingers around empty air. Y/n just couldn't comprehend what Alfred was saying. Sensing his shock, Alfred moved closer. His voice was softer when he repeated, "Y/n. Bruce needs you. He won't admit it, but I can't help him lone.He won;t even admit he needs help. He might open up to you."

"No," Y/n choked out. Martha Wayne was far too kind and gentle. She was warmth and safety incarnate. Something so good and bright wasn't allowed to fade. Like yellow paint,or the sun. She always came back in the morning Always. And Thomas Wayne was... unbreakable. Unshakable. Impossible to even faze, let alone kill. He was unbeatable. Nothing could kill him. He'd live forever. Or, at the very least, go out at his own time when he was completely sure he was ready to. "No."

"Yes," Alfred insisted, shaking Y/n's shoulders violently. Y/n flinched. "Please-"

Without another word, Y/n pushed away from Alfred and sped to Bruce's room. He didn't even knock. Bruce was sitting on his bed, his eyes haunted and his lips resting in a soft frown. His hands were in his lap as he perched on the edge of the bed like he was planning to run any second, but he also seemed cemented in place as if he couldn't go anywhere even if he wanted to. He was scary still, and as his eyes slowly moved from the floor to meet Y/n's gaze, the older Wayne shivered at the darkness in his gaze. "Bruce?"

Bruce nodded stiffly in forced greeting. "Y/n."

Y/n bit his lip. Bruce's gaze fell to Y/n's feet and widened, his hands tightening on his knees. Y/n looked down to see the red paint still on his shoe, beginning to dry, and immediately felt sick. "So-" he cut off, his throat burning like he'd swallowed acid."So they're really-"

"Yeah," Bruce interrupted.

"You were there."

"Yeah."

Silence fell like a piano from a fifth story building. Even when the silence left, the feeling didn't. Both boys were suddenly being crushed under the weight of a ginormous object neither of them could see let alone explain or find the strength to remove. It stayed through the funeral, and onward. It manifested differently for each boy.

Bruce began to dig into his parents' murder, sifting through file after file, night after night. He got little sleep and ate even less often. At least he wasn't hurting himself anymore. That he had done a lot right before Alfred, Y/n, and Jim Gordon had all teamed up to knock him out of it.

Y/n was thrown into the world of business. He was torn away from everything he cared about. His freedom and dreams were stolen ad he was forced to clean up and get into a suit and start taking care of the family company- at least until Bruce was ready. In a few months he lost not only the things he enjoyed and his parents, but also his friends and the easy going way of life. He was beaten down and forced to be calm and collected. He was taught how to not deal with emotions like real men do and handle business that needed to get taken care of. He wasn't a person anymore. He was a tool.

It was unbearable for Bruce. He was losing all of his family in one go and as he tried to fight to make sense of it or keep anything of his old life, people kept trying to knock him down a peg and remind him that he was a child. Even though Y/n, barely 14, was apparently old enough to have the world on his shoulders when he was completely and totally not able to handle it in any way. It was supposed to be Bruce's job.

Finally he managed to prove his capabilities, but not in time to save Y/n. He had been rung out by the press and pushed to the brink and then over by the people at Wayne Enterprises. When he got his free time back, he didn't spend it watching the stars or the sun rise and fall. He didn't spend it painting dogs and lamps. He didn't spend it doodling and ranting to Bruce about all the things he found wonderful about the world. He spent each and every second he had locked in his room, painting.

The colors of each work began to get darker, the themes more twisted. They got better as he fixated on one thing only... unfortunately, that thing was death.

Y/n was spiraling. He didn't take care of himself and sometimes didn't come out of his room for days. Bruce tried to get through to him, but it seemed that something really bad had happened while everyone had expected him to be in charge. The thing was, there were no hints about it and of course no one at the company would fess up about anything. Y/n wouldn't talk about it. Anytime anyone even mentioned Wayne Enterprises, he would pull away and become unresponsive.

Then the Maniax began wreaking havoc.

Y/n's focus suddenly changed. He wasn't fascinated per say by the horrible things going wrong, but more the people that were committing the heinous acts. One day Bruce finally got him to talk about it, and all Y/n had to say was, "I mean, who does that? Who goes around just killing people like it doesn't mean anything? For no reason? Look at the redhead- he shoots one of his own guys for no reason- Look, right there. What kind of mental state would someone have to be in to be so flippant about taking a life?"

The obsession with the Maniax was soon followed by an obsession of killers in general. He was found constantly reading history books about some of the world's worst killers. Then, about Gotham's worst killers specifically.

That was why Bruce went to him when he began to get involved with that same redhead that had set Y/n down this path in the very beginning. "What do you think drives him? I mean, why do what he does?" Bruce asked his brother one day. It had been quite a while since they'd sat down and talked like this. When Bruce would ask questions about something Y/n fixated on and Y/n answered with pure eagerness. This had been the first time the information had been useful or had a realistic application, and it was upsetting.

"Probably some mental disorders. Perhaps some childhood trauma. He's probably immensely desensitized..." He paused. "Jerome Velaska is actually quite odd. He's probably just psychotic, with some serious abandonment issues and a sort of god complex. He wants to be seen and known and craves endless adoration and attention. He'll do anything to get what he wants, and doesn't have the patience or tolerance for anything else. That's why he acts out- it's like he has the mind of a child. He didn't get his way and now he's going to pitch a fit and chuck his toys. His toys being people and the fit being murder."

Bruce swallowed. "That's demented."

"Hm?" Y/n hummed. He blinked then forced himself to nod. He had zoned out and not blinked to bring himself back to the present. "Yeah. He's totally messed up."

Bruce tried not to ask Y/n about Jerome again after that. There had been a strange light in his eyes. A dangerous interest that made Bruce... nervous.

Everything came to a climatic bang when Alfred took the two brothers out to a charity banquet held in honor of a children's hospital. He'd only managed to get Y/n out because he'd been more energetic recently. More in a good mood. A little more like himself. In favor of seeing Y/n be so much like he used to, neither Alfred nor Bruce questioned it.

Boy did they wish they had though.

The night was seeming to pan out rather dull until the Magician came out. Y/n loved Magicians. He always had. He found their skill to pull off even the most obvious tricks was rather impressive. So when the Magician on stage asked for a volunteer and Bruce was chosen, Y/n was a little disheartened.

Bruce, however, seemed that he would rather do anything else. He had been nagging to leave anyway. Y/n stepped forward. "I can go up for you if you want," he offered.

The woman smiled and on stage, the Magician announced, "Ah yes! Just as well, just as well. Please, join us." The woman held out her hand for Y/n and he took it immediately.

Gotham hadn't seen Y/n in a very long time. People tittered and clapped and Y/n felt nervous. He hadn't been in front of a crowd since-

No, he wouldn't think about that. Tonight it was just some good fun and he'd be okay with that. Wasn't he allowed to have fun every once in a while?

The Magician greeted Y/n then opened a box, motioning for him to get in. He did, with a bounce in his step and excitement in his eyes. The box lid closed over top Y/n and the slats were put in place. It was the classic "sawed in half" trick. Y/n was immediately put off though. It would ruin the magic if an audience member did the trick. The assistant always did this trick, because it required a lot of trick of the eye to work. This way, he'd just get cut in-

Y/n's eyes went wide. The Magician above him smiled deviously.

"Does this handsome gentleman have a name?" Suddenly Y/n's body went cold. He knew that voice. Had heard it again and again and again on tv. He had seen that exact smile accompanying it. He was torn between the horror of the very real possibility of death at any second, and awe at finally meeting the man he'd been unable to get out of his head for the last significant amount of time. Since the whole bus full of high schoolers had almost been set on fire and that soon-to-be familiar face was all over the screen during the news broadcast about it. That face that had been and would be on every news broadcast for quite sometime. The Magician hummed, raising his eyebrows, and Y/n swallowed.

"Y/n," he said. There was no point now. He was trapped and at this man's mercy. What could he do? Cry for help? The most anyone would do is laugh it off, even if he could manage to get the lump out of his throat and get any coherent message across. Plus, something far more demanding kept him silent.

An extremely dangerous sense of curiosity.

If he was going to die tonight anyway, he might as well take his last moments to see what Jerome Valeska was like up close.

"Y/n," the not-magician repeated, musing over the name. "Well, Y/n, this won't hurt a bit." He clanged the two large saws together and Y/n felt breathless. What was he doing?! This was absolute madness! "Is there a doctor in the house?" The crowd laughed. The crowd LAUGHED. Of course they laughed. They always laughed. No one cared about Y/n Wayne.

Suddenly Alfred's voice sounded out, rather panicked. Y/n looked over, surprised. Of all people, Y/n didn't think it would have been Alfred who would have intervened. Alfred had been much too wrapped up in taking care of Bruce. Such as everyone was. Despite that, it was him to stumbled out, "Just- wait- excuse--" He held up a hand, everything going quiet and still as he tripped forward. "Just wait, wait, wait one second."

Jerome didn't wait.

The saw came down.

To his own shock, Y/n was fine.

The assistant rolled away his lower half and then returned it just in time for Jerome to lean close and whisper, "Give em a wave." Y/n looked directly into his eyes and his smile wavered. They were a pretty color. Brown, littered with slight blues and green that came alive under the stage lighting.

"I know who you are." The words wouldn't have been heard by anyone else other than Jerome- even if it wasn't for the clapping. Jerome froze, but Y/n didn't wait. He stood, waved to the audience to show he was alright, and then allowed the assistant to take him back to his place next to Bruce and Alfred.

When Jerome spoke gain, his words seemed to be a little different. Y/n placed the emotion when he turned back around again and saw Jerome's eyes glued intently to Y/n. He wasn't blinking. "Some say Y/n here has a split personality." The audience laughed at the pun and then his voice lightened again as he moved onto his next trick. As he called up the mayor an the set up began, the assistant's mask fell off.

Y/n gasped. He knew that face too. Unmistakable. Barbara Keene. Of course. How did Y/n not see that far sooner?

"I should warn you," Jerome teased lightly. "No one is getting out of here tonight alive." The audience laughed and Y/n thought he would feel terror at the words. What was stopping him now? He could whisper to Bruce or Alfred. To that nice lady from before-

It was then that Y/n realized Lee Thompkins was gone.

Jerome flung a knife straight into the Mayor's gut and Bruce stepped forward, gasping in time with the crowd. Y/n was torn. Why was he torn?! This was simple! Stop this! Right? Surely he could do something.

And yet... he found he didn't want to. God what the hell was wrong with him?

The Mayor fell and people began panicking. The gun shot started and Y/n moved without thinking, slipping behind a curtain and out of sight. He began to move through the curtains until he was far enough fromAlfred not to be stopped, then he was ducking to make sure he didn't get shot- and he waited.

He saw Jerome and Barbara tie up Lee and then make a call. He spoke loudly- it wasn't hard to make out at least one side of the conversation. His demands didn't make sense. They didn't line up at all with his character. Why...?

His maniacal laughter suddenly cut off as he turned to face his newly terrified audience. The moment was interrupted, though, by a new voice. "Enough!" Y/n stepped out from hiding to get a better view, only to see a man he didn't know. That was a new experience on this night where Y/n seemed to be able to put a name to ever face in this room that mattered. "It's time for you to pack up your little sideshow and leave," the man continued. Jerome was still grinning. That didn't make sense either. Why didn't he seemed bummed that his fun was getting interrupted, or a little tentative around the new player he hadn't planned his game around? How had this guy even gotten in, with all the guards outside? It felt off. Y/n could sense it immediately. Even the man spoke like he was... reading lines.

And Jerome responded in the exact same way. Like he was in a show. Like he was acting.

The movements of the two men and the way they formed words seemed so out of place. Even the shot of the gun Barbara used... none of it seemed natural.

Without thinking, Y/n stepped forward. The small noise his steps made immediately caught Jerome's attention. His eyes light up, his smile relaxing to a much more natural place. This was Jerome. The change was impossible to miss for Y/n, who had been carefully studying him so long.

"You," Jerome called, pointing directly at Y/n for the first time tonight. This felt even more thrilling than when Bruce had been picked. Now there was no charade or manipulation. It was just Jerome and Y/n. "Come here." He held up a gun, obviously ready to threaten someone's life to get Y/n to obey, but he was already moving before the words could leave Jerome's mouth. "What a nice boy." Y/n should have been at least pretending to be phased, but he was far too caught up in analyzing Jerome that he didn't think about how his step was confident and unfaltering, taking him to Jerome without any hesitation. He didn't think about the expression on his face, but how it made Jerome specifically respond. By simply having an emotion other than fear, Y/n had caught Jerome's attention and was reveling in it. Jerome could see that too, and it seemed to entertain him even more.

"You just gonna stare at me all day?" Y/n whispered softly, trying not to let his lips twitch into a smirk. Was he... flirting? It felt like he was suddenly outside of his body, watching this train wreck happen, unsure of who was in control or why he was doing anything he was.

Jerome seemed to be absolutely loving it. "Stand here with me." His voice was soft as silk, near purring. Y/n moved to where he motioned and stayed silent. The problem with his new placement: everyone could see his reactions now, not just Jerome. It was time to start acting at the very least.

Turns out he didn't much need to.

Jerome was easily terrifying as he was charismatic.

Every time Y/n thought he had caught on to Jerome schtick, he did something that threw Y/n off completely again. It was all fun and games, playing at murder but then pulling out some joke shot that didn't really make any sense. Did he actually want to keep all of us hostage? Wasn't it enough to have a few? Bruce, me and Alfred because Bruce was Gotham's golden boy, and he wouldn't let anything happen to me or Alfred. Lee Thompkins because she was his bargaining chip. The four of us would be plenty enough of a bargaining chip, maybe a handful more just in case. Why spare everyone, if he really did like killing so much?

There was something to Jerome that really intrigued Y/n. He wondered what the maniac was really thinking. What really drove him to act this way. To take control of a whole room full of Gotham's richest of the most well meaning... only to ask for ridiculous, nonsensical demands and not kill a single one of us.

Again Y/n got that sense, like something else major was actually happening here.

Y/n was zoning out. Missing things. He couldn't focus on the act going. The show that had more layers than what was originally apparent. He missed the whole throw down with Barbara and Lee as well, but caught the gist: Barbara was apparently in love with JimGordon and fancied that they'd end up together. Lee was apparently getting in the way of that. Blah, blah, blah. Girl drama and psychopaths and romance and delusion. Barbara almost killed Lee. Jerome stopped her. So on and so forth.

Then, Jerome attention was on Y/n again all of a sudden, even though he'd been carefully ignoring the boy he'd called up on stage until that point. He grinned at Y/n, the knife he'd taken fromBarbara manifesting in Jerome's hand. The redhead used it more like a finger than a weapon. He ran the dull side of the back of the blade under Y/n's chin, the flipped it so the blade was pressed gently to Y/n's skin. "My favorite volunteer," he said slowly, stepping far too close for what should have been comfortable. "You know, I've seen you on TV."

"And I, you." He hadn't meant to respond, but it had slipped out before he could stop it.

Jerome's head tilted as he popped his chin in pride. "Well, of course. I was meant to be on the big screen. I made my own way. It was my choice to end up where everyone could see me." He took a deep breath in. "You, however... what a scandal." Suddenly Y/n couldn't breath. Jerome roared in giddy, insane laughter. "There he is!" He turned to the audience, motioning to the slight shake of Y/n's body and the sickly pale tint to his skin. "There's that fear! That fear or hate or disgust or whatever it is you all feel for me... except for you." He looked back at Y/n. "We're so similar, Y/n," he sighed. "I'm an orphan too, you know. I don't fear death either."

"You killed your parents," Y/n managed to get out through gritted teeth.

Jerome tilted his head back and forth. "Details, details." The knife was at Y/n's throat again. "You're no fun anymore, you know. Everyone stops being fun at some point. I will give you one thing: you lasted longer than most." The knife pressed further into Y/n's throat and he sucked in a sharp breath as it broke skin, a single drop of blood making a vibrant path down his pale skin.

Gun shots. Suddenly Jerome spun, pressing Y/n's back to his chest, moving the blade so Y/n's was a hostage instead of the focused on target. There was a bit of chaos in the crowd, and Y/n's eyes widened to see Alfred and Jim Gordon of all people mowing through Jerome's lackies. Jim turned his barrel toward Y/n and Jerome. "Let him go!" He shouted. Jerome's giggle rang right next to Y/n's ear. Whatever weird spell from before that had Y/n controlled and calm and still broke and he flinched back away from the blade. Unfortunately, that only brought him closer to Jerome. After a second Jim defeatedly announced, "I don't have a clean shot. Jerome shifted, obviously eager in his moment of victory.

"Stay calm, Y/n," Alfred eased. Bruce was shuffling, knowing it wouldn't help to rush in but having to use every bit of his self control to stop himself from doing just that. He couldn't lose Y/n too. His brother was part of the quickly dwindling family he still had left.

Jerome's breath sounded in Y/n's ear as he gritted his teeth, switching from plying a game to planning an escape. Of course he wanted to get out of here alive. "It seems like we've got ourselves in a bit of a pickle. "What do you say Sweetheart?" Jerome mumbled in his ear. He was twitching, rocking a little from foot to foot. "Why don't we boost our ratings, hm?" The knife moved from one side of Y/n's throat to the other, drawing the smallest line of blood. Y/n gasped, his body shaking in suddenly very real fear. He wondered if this is how his parents had felt, or if they'd died too fast to really be afraid of dying at all. "Smile." Jerome began his wild, broken chittering of a laugh again.

This was familiar. Jerome had been waiting all night to kill someone, and for whatever reason he hadn't. Unfortunately, that meant he was definitely not going to hesitate to now. Y/n closed his eyes, and echoing, "NO!" Coming from his younger brother before he was sure he was about to be enveloped by darkness.

"I said, enough." Jerome let go of Y/n in surprise and both boys turned, unsure where to move from here. Not knowing how to switch gears. There stood the man from earlier. Theo Galavant. Theo grabbed Jerome by the color and drove a knife into the side of his neck. Y/n made a weird, half-choking, half-squeaking sound as the blade made impact into flesh, the audience gasping behind him.

Y/n couldn't move. He fell backwards, tripping over his own feet and barely catching himself as he made his way off the stage and to the ground. Theo must have thought he was further, but he heard it. He heard what the man said next. "I know, I know, I know," he cooed as Jerome choked, dying. Y/n blinked, trying to clear his head. So many thoughts were swimming through it and his chest had begun to tighten and twist. He couldn't breathe. He could still hear though. "This isn't what we rehearsed. I'm so sorry Jerome. You have real talent! But no, you see, the plot thickens. Enter: the hero."

Something horrible settled into Y/n's stomach as Jerome spoke again, his voice weak and raspy. "You... said... I was... gonna be..." He died before the sentence could finish, and Y/n was running. Ramming into Bruce, the boys holding each other tightly as Alfred enveloped them both with his arms.

"It's over," Alfred reassured. "You're safe now, Y/n, it's okay."

The words sounded sincere and full of relief, but Y/n couldn't shake that things were far from over. In fact, he was sure they'd only just begun.

#jerome valeska #jerome valeska x reader #jerome valeska imagine #bruce wayne #gotham #gotham imagine #gotham x reader #joker #joker imagine #joker x reader #male reader #jerome valeska x male reader #joker x male reader

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OK, March 8

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Bruce Springsteen

Page 1: Big Pic -- as part of Coach's latest campaign Jennifer Lopez posed with a supersized pink version of their new Pillow Tabby purse

Page 2: Contents

Page 3: Contents

Page 4: Chris Harrison gone for good? The Bachelor host's future with the show remains uncertain after his controversial interview with Rachel Lindsay

Page 6: Since the start of his career Justin Timberlake has endured his fair share of scandals but after welcoming his second son with wife Jessica Biel over the summer and celebrating his 40th birthday, he is confessing that he feels immense guilt about the past and he won't be making the same mistakes in the future -- Justin's done some soul-searching and accepts that he's wronged a lot of people over the years with his own terrible mistakes and he says he's still a work in progress, but step one has been to stand up and admit he's hurt too many women -- in addition to a boozy night out with his Palmer costar Alisha Wainwright in 2019 and his part in the now-infamous Nipplegate incident with Janet Jackson at the 2004 Super Bowl, Justin recently came under fire again due to the documentary Framing Britney Spears which showed him exploiting his breakup from Britney Spears to help his solo career -- Justin's learned from his mistakes and has a lot more sensitivity about the impact of his actions on other people and that's the big difference between the Justin of today and his old, immature self and that self-awareness was evident in an emotional statement that he posted apologizing to both Britney and Janet for the errors in his ways -- his words drew praise from his wife Jessica who says he's come a long way as a husband, a father and more importantly, a human being

Page 7: Wendy Williams is on the prowl for a new man and he's got to be husband material and she is ready for a serious commitment -- Wendy's been staying up until all hours of the night checking out guys online and on exclusive dating apps and she wants someone age-appropriate, fun, kind, independent and of course has no history of cheating -- she's feeling very optimistic and even buying new perfume and clothes and jewelry for all the dates she hopes to have once lockdown lifts

* Texas native Matthew McConaughey is seriously considering throwing his hat in the ring to become the state's next governor -- he's been putting out feelers to see if he's got sufficient support and if enough donors are willing to write checks, he'd mount an aggressive run in 2022 -- he's already gotten the thumbs-up from his wife Camila Alves and their three kids -- at this point, he needs to see an actual path to winning because he's not interested in just making a protest statement; don't be fooled by his aw-shucks attitude, Matthew means business

* Now that Keeping Up With the Kardashians is coming to an end, the hunt is on for a new family to replace the clan and one reality pro is poised to nab the prize: Real Housewives of Beverly Hills star Lisa Rinna -- there's already been talk about Lisa picking up the torch and her family is camera ready, consisting of husband Harry Hamlin, and their daughters Delilah Hamlin who's dating Love Island's Eyal Booker and Amelia Hamlin who's dating Scott Disick

Page 8: Things keep going from bad to worse for Armie Hammer -- he was forced to drop out of his upcoming movie Shotgun Wedding with Jennifer Lopez after direct messages he allegedly sent to women in which he described himself as a cannibal and detailed disturbing sexual fantasies were leaked online -- Armie was also fired by his talent agency WME and now the disgraced star may get cut from his new film Next Goal Wins which has already been shot -- he's radioactive and everybody knows it and his completed but unreleased work is getting a second look as studios want to do damage control, and that includes another of his finished projects Death on the Nile where his part could end up on the cutting room floor -- he's a pariah now and it's hard to see how he's ever going to come back from this

* Jennifer Aniston has always had a spiritual side but these days she is taking things to a whole new plane -- Jen has surrounded herself with psychics and has been doing Goddess Circles with the same group of close friends for 30 years, but now she's taking courses to learn to heal herself and be her own guru -- BFF Courteney Cox has been a big influence and Jen's learned a lot from Courteney, who's had a long-term interest in mediums, astrologists and horoscopes, and she's trying to fuse it all together into her own brand of spirituality -- Jen's had a lot of time alone, which has only deepened her questions about the universe and how she can make the most of her life and she's determined to find the answers

* Princess Eugenie is over the moon after welcoming her first child, a baby boy with businessman husband Jack Brooksbank but now the new mom is torn about taking time out from her royal responsibilities -- Eugenie would love to take a long break from everything and focus solely on raising her son however she knows deep down how much she's needed, especially since Prince Harry and Meghan Markle are showing no signs of coming back -- as she weighs her options, Eugenie is looking to her multi-tasking cousin-in-law Duchess Kate for some inspiration because she's impressed by how Kate is able to juggle her official duties while raising three young kids

Page 10: Red Hot on the Red Carpet -- stars captivate in enchanting puff-sleeve numbers -- Bel Powley, Aubrey Plaza, Lupita Nyong'o

Page 11: Kaitlyn Dever, Lucy Boynton, Margaret Qualley

Page 12: Who Wore It Better? Hilary Swank vs. Madeline Brewer, Bella Hadid vs. Devon Windsor, Alison Brie vs. Dua Lipa

Page 14: News in Photos -- Tayshia Adams and her fiance Zac Clark felt on top of the world when the visited the Empire State Building together

Page 15: Chrissy Teigen and John Legend were inseparable while out and about in Beverly Hills, Bill Murray and NFL player Larry Fitzgerald Jr. were among the many stars to shoot their shot during a charity golf tournament in Pebble Beach, Rita Ora performing on an episode of the U.K. show Dancing on Ice in Hertfordshire

Page 16: At the Australian Open Serena Williams came out on top during the fourth round, Bachelorette alum Jordan Kimball and fiancee Christina Creedon couldn't wait until they got home to enjoy Candy Pop popcorn's new Peanut M&M's flavor from Sam's Club in Houston, Heidi Montag spent the day hitting the slopes at Lake Tahoe

Page 17: Hailey Bieber starring in Beyonce's new Ivy Park x Adidas collection

Page 18: Brody Jenner had a blast snow tubing while shooting the second season of The Hills: New Beginnings in Lake Tahoe, Avril Lavigne stepped out with her new boyfriend Mod Sun for a romantic dinner in West Hollywood

Page 20: Justin Bieber looked like he'd just hopped out of bed in a sweater and checkered fleece pants in L.A., Robin Thicke in front of a piano in L.A.

Page 21: Steve Martin doubled up on face coverings on the set of his new project Only Murders in the Building in NYC, Michelle Obama on her new show Waffles + Michi, Cardi B spoiled herself with high-end goods during a day of shopping on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills

Page 22: Brooke Burke romancing with boyfriend Scott Rigsby on Valentine's Day, Lucy Hale accessorized her look with her newest rescue pup Ethel in L.A., Jessica Lange and Susan Sarandon masked up for a snowy outing in NYC

Page 24: For Galentine's Day Vanessa Lachey snacked on macarons and sipped on wine in L.A.

Page 25: Bella Hadid alongside models Mayowa Nicholas and Heejung Park in Michael Kors' new campaign for the Spring 2021 collection, Hugh Grant stepped out for some fresh hair in London, Sofia Vergara kept it casual during a visit to a pal's house in Beverly Hills

Page 26: Inside My Home -- Katherine Heigl and Josh Kelley's Rocky Mountain retreat

Page 28: Marriage isn't easy especially during a global health crisis but for Kristen Bell and Dax Shepard divorce is not an option -- Kristen said she and Dax at the start of the pandemic were at a point in their marriage where they definitely needed a little therapy brush-up and every couple of years they're being very antagonistic towards each other and they don't want that so they go back to therapy and figure out how they can serve their team goal better and it's been incredibly helpful and even in the toughest times they always have each other's back and they're committed to being each other's biggest support systems -- while their relationship may never be perfect, they're happy and love each other and that's what matters most

Page 29: Now that Tom Brady has won his seventh Super Bowl with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, he has set his sights on the next prize: baby No. 3 with wife Gisele Bundchen -- they've been telling friends they hope to make an announcement by summer at the latest and Tom and Gisele have been super loved-up since leaving Boston and moving to Florida after the QB signed on with the Bucs and the change of scenery has worked wonders on their love life and put them in baby-making mode -- the duo, who recently bought a $17 million spread on Miami's exclusive Indian Creek Island, plan to build a luxury mansion there complete with a nursery and they hope to be all settled in when the new arrival comes -- they've never felt healthier or been happier

* Aaron Rodgers looked positively giddy when he revealed he had a fiancee, Shailene Woodley at the NFL Honors, but the QB is dreading the next step: bringing her home to meet his parents because it's no secret that Aaron's been estranged from them for years and the last thing he wants is for Shailene to get caught up in the drama -- Shailene wants Aaron to clear the air with his folks, but he's not ready to do that and he doesn't want to bring Shailene into a toxic environment

* It's only been two years since Miranda Lambert married Brendan McLoughlin but she's already itching for some alone time -- she's headed to Texas in April for her first concert in over a year and she's told Brendan he shouldn't come because it will be all work and no play but she really wants to get away from him for a while and after the pair's recent road trip together, Miranda is desperate for some space -- sometimes Miranda feels like she's living with a baby because Brendan whines and complains about life on her farm

Page 30: Kourtney Kardashian and Travis Barker's romance is heating up fast, so much so that she's practically handed over the keys to her Calabasas estate and she loves having Travis sleep over and sometimes he'll stay the whole weekend -- he gets along famously with her children and Travis has been a friend of the family for years, so the kids have pretty much known him their whole lives and they'll do fun stuff together like hiking or playing video games and Travis loves making breakfast and showing off his pancake-flipping skills --Travis is spending so much time at Kourt's place that he's moved a bunch of his stuff in to make it easier for his kids Landon and Alabama with ex Shanna Moakler to visit him there -- everyone's convinced they'll be living together full-time before you know it

* Prince Harry and Meghan Markle were met with a flurry of well-wishes after they revealed they're expecting baby No. 2 -- the couple decided to wait until Meghan was safely into her second trimester to share the news and they only told a handful of family members before the public and they wanted to cherish this secret for as long as they could -- Harry and Meghan have been nesting at their Montecito mansion and have been busy prepping the nursery and making sure it's eco-friendly with energy-efficient lighting and they're keeping it as plastic-free as possible

* Love Bites -- Clare Crawley and Dale Moss reunited, Kit Harington and Rose Leslie welcomed a baby boy, Paris Hilton and Carter Reum engaged

Page 32: Cover Story -- Bruce Springsteen's private world -- he's an open book in his songs, but here's Bruce's untold story of his struggles with depression and regret -- he still has dark thoughts from time to time but therapy and medication have helped a great deal

Page 36: Stars' Cheating Confessions -- sometimes all you can do is beg for forgiveness; these celebs have all had to plead their case -- Donny and Debbie Osmond, Jude Law and Sienna Miller, Jada Pinkett Smith and Will Smith

Page 37: David Letterman and Regina Lasko, Dean McDermott and Tori Spelling, Kevin Hart and Eniko Parrish

Page 40: Interview -- Elizabeth Olsen -- the Avengers star dishes about getting witchy again for Marvel's mind-bending WandaVision

Page 42: Golden Girls -- how these Golden Globes nominees get their award-worthy figures -- Anya Taylor-Joy, Nicole Kidman, Lily Collins

Page 43: Kaley Cuoco, Michelle Pfeiffer, Amanda Seyfried

Page 44: Aadila Dosani's vegan recipe for Chickpea and Potato Soup

Page 46: Style Week -- Ashley Graham is the new global brand ambassador for self-tanning label St. Tropez

Page 48: What's Hot Right Now -- create a naturally gorgeous, flushed look with fashion designer Jason Wu's namesake makeup collection

Page 49: Haute hippie retro jeans -- take a trip back to the '70s with Revice Denim's ultra-cool capsule, Los Angeles Lovers -- Delilah Belle Hamlin

Page 50: Flower Power -- floral prints are spring's hottest trend -- rock the pretty blooms for a fresh, boho-chic look -- Kaia Gerber

Page 52: DIY Blowout -- these foolproof finds deliver impeccable hair right at home -- Drew Barrymore

Page 54: Entertainment

Page 55: Q&A with Mary Fitzgerald of Selling Sunset

Page 58: Buzz -- after months of playing it coy, these celebs confirmed their relationships on Valentine's Day -- Scott Disick and Amelia Hamlin

Page 59: Vanessa Hudgens and Cole Tucker, Sharna Burgess and Brian Austin Green, Kourtney Kardashian and Travis Barker, Kendall Jenner and Devin Booker

Page 60: Sound Bites -- Halsey on not conforming to conventional beauty standards, Anderson Cooper on coparenting with his ex, Ashley Graham on the importance of self-care, Kate Winslet on feeling like a fish out of water in Hollywood

Page 61: Tom Holland on the plot of the next Spider-Man flick, Mila Kunis joking about keeping her family entertained during quarantine, Drew Barrymore when asked if she's ever been skinny-dipping, Madelaine Petsch on playing a teen in Clare at 16

Page 62: Horoscope -- Pisces Lupita Nyong'o turned 38 on March 1

Page 64: By the Numbers -- Riz Ahmed

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years ago

Text

The Things Left Behind (3/?)

Ao3: Chapter 1, Chapter Two, This Chapter,

Tumblr: ((chapter 1 and 2 have not been officially posted onto Tumblr))

Work Summary:

"They say fingerprints are made up of an individual's genetic makeup and of the life experiences that individual encounters the more their life progresses."

Bruce looks up from Dick's hand, his fingers rubbing the pads of Dick's fingers and Dick can only stare wide eyed as Bruce let's go of Dick's hand and stands back, arms folded across his chest.

"I suppose, you're living proof of that," Bruce concludes.

Or: It’s not the first time someone in the superhero community has been cloned.

---

When Dick wakes up, he’s almost forgotten that none of this is right. None of it is his. Not his body, not the bed he’s sleeping in, not the name that comes to the forefront of his mind every time he catches himself thinking about it.

When Dick wakes up, he thinks he's Dick. The real Dick. The one that lives and breathes and has done those two things and so much more for 26 years. 17 more than this Dick has.

Or more. The fake Dick doesn't actually know how long it took for his fake body to be grown. What if he was literally born just a few days ago? A mere set of genetic strings floating inside a glass, person sized tube.

When Dick wakes up, he's clutching Zitka like he swears he's always done since he's gotten her. Except, when he opens his eyes and pinches her flat ears between his blank fingertips, he sees that she looks too worn to be the Zitka he remembers. The fabric making up her fur too coarse, pills hanging off her that threaten to create holes if pulled too hard.

Then, he remembers that those memories of Zitka are not his. He remembers the blankets and comforter over his body belong to the guest room. He remembers the borrowed clothes that he doesn't recognize, that look too new to be 17 years old. They're a little big too, like they belong to another boy just a little bigger and a little older.

Siblings. The real Dick mentioned siblings. Like Bruce was his dad.

And suddenly, Dick- the clone, wants to cry again. He wants to cry and hold Zitka until she's soaked in his tears. He wants to ugly sob, he wants to punch something, he wants to tear the curtains from the window and kick the legs of the vanity. He wants his hurt to be physical. He wants to be real.

But he's not real. He's fake, and Bruce only took him home- to the manor because he must feel obligated to.

So instead of standing up and expressing his fear and sorrow and anger, the clone curls up and sobs harder, trying not to think about the only thing he can think of.

What will happen to him now?

Tests maybe. First. To see if they can find clues as to who created him. Then they’ll see if he has any triggers that lead to sleeper agent tendencies. After that, they'll determine what kind of threat he is. If he's deemed worthy like this Kon-El person to try and build a life, or if he’s found too dangerous to be allowed to live freely.

If he is allowed to live and start a new life, he knows Bruce won't want to keep him. He has a Dick Grayson. A Dick Grayson who's all grown up and happy and a big brother and a son.

Something that the clone just can't see himself to ever be… let alone want.

Because, as much as these feelings are not his, they're also compelling. He doesn't want a dad. He had a dad. He doesn't want brothers. He doesn't want sisters. He just wanted a place to live, a table to eat on, and someone to occasionally tell him they are glad he's around.

But he doesn't… want a family.

But those are Dick's feelings. Not his. Yet, somewhere along the way, Dick changed his mind.

He wonders why. What changed? What made Dick decide to abandon Mary and John Grayson like this?

He can't comprehend it.

And Bruce won't want to keep him anyway.

A soft knock on his door pulls him from his spiraling thoughts. He quickly wipes under his eyes with the fabric of the pillowcase then slowly sits up so he's sitting against the headboard. The door doesn't open; the clone wonders that maybe if he remains silent the person on the other side will just go away. However, he soon finds his silent hopes all for naught when once again the door is knocked upon; only this time it’s louder.

The clone doesn't know if he can really deal with anyone at the moment. Maybe Alfred… but Bruce and Dick will just make the tight feeling in his chest tighter. And what if it's one of the siblings?

He doesn't know how he'll react if the door opens and it's a sibling.

He bites his lip when the door knocks once again. A voice accompanies this one.

It's Dick. Because of course it is.

"Hey Dickie?" Dick asks, and the name sends a knife through the clone's ribs. Dick shouldn't say his own name like that. It must taste horrible in his mouth.

It tastes horrible in the clone's.

"You up?" Dick's voices again. Older. Firmer. More mature than what the clone could have ever imagined.

The clone swallows then decides he might as well rip off the band-aid. He gets out of the bedsheets, the borrowed oversized pajamas slipping down his shoulder and down his hips. He scrubs under his eyes one last time before he opens the door a crack. On the other side is the original version of his DNA, standing there, smiling too brightly for how early in the morning it must be.

"Good morning," Dick greets, his knees bending ever so slightly to look less intimidating. And to think, Dick's always been small for his age, but here he is, bending down to not look over his younger clone. "You up for pancakes?"

Pancakes? Alfred's let sugar into the building? Man, more is different here than he thought.

"I'm not… really hungry," the clone says, but then Dick's face scrunches up ever so slightly and the clone knows he's trapped.

"You gotta eat something, squirt," Dick chides, "though I suppose it's still early, and I can tell Alf to hold off another hour, if you want. Maybe we can invite one of the others so you can finally meet-"

"I'll eat now," the clone bursts, then instantly feels bad about it when Dick's face falls ever so slightly.

The clone shuffles his feet and tries to ignore the heat in spreading up his neck and through the tips of his ears.

"I… don't want to bother Alfred..."

Even to the clone, the excuse sounds lame. However Dick doesn’t seem to have any intentions of calling him out on his lie. He can’t understand why Dick is letting him act like this. Lie. Be uncooperative. Take guest rooms and stuffed animals and clothes belonging to someone else. He shouldn’t have this understanding look on his face. He should be grabbing the clone by the arm and dragging him off to do what they want him to do—just to quit being so commendable.

Instead, Dick smiles and begins to lead him through the empty manor. The clone tries not to think about who else could live here. Who else has roamed these hallways. Him being here must be throwing off the entire ecosystem of the place… keeping multiple people from coming home just because he's uncomfortable with meeting them.

After breakfast, the clone decides, after breakfast and he'll tell Bruce and Dick that they shouldn’t… that they don’t have to go out of their way anymore to keep their newest little intruder comfortable. Let the others come back to their home.

It’s not his.

It’s not anything he has the right to have dictatorship over. His discomfort is meaningless.

The moment the clone steps into the dining room, he immediately wishes to go back to bed. Already, little appetizers are set out—bowls of eggs, plates of sausage and bacon, butter with knives carefully placed besides each little dish—but there's no one else in the room besides the two of them.

Which means when Dick sits down at his normal spot and the clone purposely sits somewhere else, he's helpless to stay there and watch as Dick stands up with his plate and walks over to sit across from the clone.

The clone curls his fists under the table and diverts his gaze.

Awkwardness settles between the two of them like a big ugly beast, and that awkwardness insists on staying there even as Dick reaches over and piles his plate with sausage. The clone bites the inside of his cheek and doesn’t move to do the same. He can tell Dick wants to comment on that, maybe even say something about trying the bacon and how Alfred’s bacon is the only kind that’s worth eating… but when he opens his mouth the door’s into the dining room open once again, and in walks none other than Bruce.

Panic reignites in his chest at the sight of the man before him. He’s like a tower, something eerie that practically has a visible aura of authority and intelligence. He carries himself with purpose despite the clear-as-day bags under his eyes and the deeper frown gracing his lips than normal. He definitely doesn’t look like sleep had visited him last night… he was probable up from sunset to sunrise trying to figure out where the clone came from and what to do with him.

Perhaps the minutes until his fate is to be decided is closer than he thinks.

The clone catches Bruce's eye for a second, a natural urge in him screaming to scramble up and grab onto his arm and demand what is to be done. In his fake memories, he’s so used to the dynamic between the two of them. The trust.

There’s none of that here. He just manages to keep glued to his seat as Bruce’s eyes widen like he’s forgotten the clone was here.

Bruce slows his walk ever so slightly as his eyes break from the clones and stare off slightly to the left with no purpose. "Good morning… Dick."

And the clone really wants to sink into nothing now, especially as the real Dick smiles and doesn't say anything. Willingly standing back as someone else is being referred to by his own name.

The clone is curling his fists so tightly in the fabric of his pajamas he can almost feel the indents of his nails through the material.

"Morning…" the clone says quietly.

Dick smiles brightly and turns towards Bruce. "Hey B!"

"Good morning…" Bruce sits down at the head of the table. "Dick..."

At least Dick's smile strains a little right there. Though, the clone can't tell if it's because of his name being thrown around, or if it's the unsure way Bruce says it.

Bruce shouldn’t be unsure of who deserves the name Dick. He’d have to have been hit quite a few times in his head since the time of the clone’s memories to have forgotten who his son is—and it’s not the clone.

Either way, the clone sinks back into the chair as Dick and Bruce begin what seems too casual to be a morning conversation… he stays quiet and hopes he remains ignored at least until the end of breakfast.

However, his attention is grabbed by Bruce clearing his throat. “So,” he says, “Dick… how did you sleep last night?”

The clone takes a second to realize that Bruce could only be talking to him, you know, judging off of how they both turn to look at him. He clears his throat awkwardly and shift’s in his seat. “It was okay…”

Bruce’s eyebrows fall. “What? You’ll have to speak up a little louder.”

The clone didn’t even realize he practically mumbled that. He clears his throat and desperately wishes that Poison Ivy would barge in and control the potted plant in the corner to grab him and drag him away from this entire situation. “I said it-”

The door opens, and in walks none other than Alfred. Tension tightens in his being, but he also can’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

Everything stills right then and there. The clone can only stare wide eyed as Alfred walks in with a smoothness that only he has and begins to set down trays of steaming hot pancakes. Seeing Alfred aches in a whole new way compared to Bruce and even Dick himself. The clone hasn’t seen hair nor hide of Alfred since he’s arrived, but seeing him now is further proof of the time gap he’s living in.

He’s so much older. Skinnier. His face is covered in wrinkles he’s not sure he had before. The hair of his mustache is a little bit more gray.

“Good morning sirs,” Alfred says, a twinkle in his eye and a specific look towards each of his two charges. Then, his eyes settle on the clone and the clone almost finds himself bursting into pathetic sobs right there. A spark still sits in Alfreds eyes, and it shines so brightly that the way his mouth seems to fall into a barely concealed form almost goes unnoticed. “And welcome to the manor, young Master Dick.”

Then breakfast starts. The clone ducks his head to avoid Alfred’s sharp eyes and leans back as Dick reaches over the table to plop two fluffy pancakes onto his plate, already mumbling through bites of his own to try the blueberry syrup.

He tries the blueberry syrup, just to get him off his back.

After that, things shockingly go okay for a little while longer—but the clone can tell the exact moment Bruce decides he wants to say something. He can see it in the way he clears his throat, tugs at one sleeve, sits up more straight, and taps the knife to make sure it's straight besides his empty plate. He can also tell in the way the real Dick tenses, because he's definitely noticed all of those tells as well.

The clone puts down the bite of pancakes he was about to pretend to eat down at the table, sucks in a breath of air, and then looks Bruce straight in the eye.

This is it. This is when his fate is revealed and everyone can stop forcing themselves to be nice to him.

"Dick…" Bruce starts, and the clone can't deny that he's the one being spoken to. Not when Bruce is staring him straight in the eye, like he would the real one. Like he probably would any of his other kids. "I… understand that it might be scary right now, but I promise this will all be figured out, and you can soon begin living like a normal child."

The clone blanks. He wasn't… expecting that. He looks over at the real Dick, who's currently wound tight like a cobra. The clone wonders if there's something about how Bruce is acting right now that he hasn't learned to look out for. Something the real Dick can see a mile away. The clone catches sight of Alfred, his lips turned into a frown, eyes narrowed. He can see it too.

The clone has no idea.

The idea that there's something he doesn't know about the tells of the family before him shouldn't relieve him as much as it does.

"That's why," Bruce says, bringing the clones attention back to him, "if you would like, I would be honored to-"

"Okay, B," Dick yells loudly, standing up from the table quickly, almost causing the chair behind him to fall backwards. "We need to talk."

Bruce raises an eyebrow, but when Alfred clears his throat, the man huffs and stands up, allowing Dick to grab him by his arm and drag him outside the dining room.

It falls silent in the dining room, and it takes every ounce of will power the clone has to not say anything as he looks down at his plate and runs his fork through the syrup soaked pancakes. A hand appears in his vision and fills up his glass with chocolate milk.

"Don't worry, young Master Dick," Alfred says softly. Kindly. And the clone realizes this is the first conversation he's had with the man since... since ending up back here. He blinks and looks up at Alfred, and all he sees is intense sincerity and warmth. Something in his chest loosens ever so slightly. "Master Bruce means well, but some habits cannot change easily. You are very welcome into this home, no matter what you decide when the time comes."

The clone brings his hand up to his cheek and wipes under his eye before anything can form.

"… Thank you Alfred."

"You're very welcome, young sir." Alfred smiles for just a flash, and then he flicks his eyes down to the clone’s still full plate. "Why don't you eat just a single helping to ease an old man's heart? We can figure out everything after."

The clone nods, and he thinks he might almost smile. Thankfully, Alfred turns away and allows the clone to reach forward and take a bite of delicious pancake goodness in silent companionship.

The clone wonders how long this will last.

He doesn't dwell on it.

-o-o-o-o-

"Are… you sure?" Dick asks.

The clone nods and shuffles his feet on the carpet lining the long corridors of the manor. "I can't keep them from their home forever. I might as well just rip off the band-aid and get it over with."

Dick studies him for a second, and the clone can't help but shuffle again. After Dick and Bruce came back from whatever conversation they had, neither of them mentioned anything about what the argument was about. The clone could tell it was an argument because Bruce didn't say a single thing, just nodded at the clone and continued his second helping of pancakes in silence.

The clone wonders if he gets as red in the face as Dick does when he gets angry. If his hands shake that much.

Dick's calmed down now though, which is why the clone has cornered him in the hallway on a sorta unneeded tour, but one that was useful all the same. A lot of things have changed. Some wings have been completely rebuilt. Rooms are different… some look lived in. Vases are missing.

Dick kneels down in front of the clone and gives him a once over; a wrinkle placing itself comfortably between his brow. "Look…” he says slowly, “I was told to try to not do this… but I think you might need to hear this anyway."

Weariness fills the clone's veins, but he remains silent and Dick seems to flounder a little bit for words.

Dick takes a deep breath and then looks the clone straight into his copied eyes. "I understand how you’re feeling. You've never wanted a new family. You’ve never wanted Bruce to be your dad. You're afraid of… what siblings could mean..."

The clone looks away, something icky settling in his stomach.

Dick doesn't force the clone to look at him, but he keeps talking anyway.

"I just want you to know that it's okay to feel that way. I felt that way for a long time. If you don't want to meet the others because it makes you uncomfortable, then I won't force you. None of us will force you. We'll give you space until you're ready."

This is awful. The clone feels sick to his stomach.

It takes him a second to find his words. It takes him a second to put words on the tip of his tongue that aren't you don't know me and stop pretending you care. He swallows down his anger that doesn't belong to him.

None of these feelings belong to him. The clone never lost his parents, the clone wasn’t ever taken in as Bruce Wayne's ward, he doesn't deserve to feel any of this.

It’s all only inevitability before someone decides it's time to send him away. It's only a matter of time before he's determined too dangerous to keep here.

So, instead of screaming his voice raw at Dick like he wants to, he takes a deep breath.

"It's fine," he says, "don't worry about me. Besides, it's not like they're my actual siblings. I'm not Bruce's ward."

Dick's face pinches like that wasn't what he wanted to hear, but the clone turns around and walks away as quickly as he can. He wants to be alone. He wants to climb in a corner somewhere and not exist.

Instead, he ends up back in the room they're letting him stay in, his eyes immediately latch onto the stuffed elephant placed carefully on his bed. He stomps forward, grabs it by the trunk, then hurtles it out of the room and slams the door shut, breathing hard.

It takes just a moment for angry tears to burst from his eyes. He locks the door with shaking hands, and he's sure his face is red. Then, he turns and collapses backwards so his back is almost stabbed by the doorknob. His knees give out and he sits there, staring at nothing, wishing he could sink into nothing.

He sits there and begins to pathetically cry once again, but this time he simply doesn’t allow himself to make a sound.

-o-o-o-o-

A knock on the door. About an hour later.

"Dick?"

The clone doesn't answer.

"Dick, can we talk?"

Still no answer.

"… Look, I think what I said was… I think it hurt your feelings more than helped you like I intended... I only want to help you."

Silence.

"Dick, come on buddy, I'm-"

"Stop calling me that."

"… Wh-"

"Dick. Stop calling me that. I'm not Dick. I'm not you."

A beat of silence. An exhale. The clone curls tighter against the door and wrings his awful blank fingertips into the pants of his borrowed pajamas.

"What would you like me to call you then?"

The clone opens his mouth. Them closes it. Does he want a name? Does he even deserve one?

"Kiddo, we need to call you something."

"I don't care. Call be anything. Just not…"

A body on the other side of the door shifts, and the clone wonders if Dick is sitting on the floor like he is, back against the door, elephant in his hands, probably checking for destruction.

"How about this… how about we call you… John. We call you John, and you can tell us when to stop if you ever decide on something else." A beat. Then a quickly rushed afterthought. "Unless you don't want John, it can be anything-"

"John is fine."

The clone says it before he means to. He almost wants to take it back. John is still Dick's name. It's his middle name. It's his dad's name.

"Okay!" Dick says, and the clone can hear the strained smile in his voice. "John it is, them!"

The clone… John, he supposes… bites his lip. "What about… the others."

"If you want, we'll introduce you to them one at a time. I'm thinking Duke… or Tim first. Duke is really chill, but Tim also has… experience… and he's a sweet kid. They're all sweet kids."

John nods, then remembers the door is still locked and closed behind him. He wipes his cheeks and stands up, undoing the lock at opening the door to find Dick hastily standing up with Zitka in his hands.

"Is that okay?" Dick asks, his eyes wide and… hopeful.

Hope. That's what Dick is all about…. Right?

The- John takes a deep breath. "Yeah… yeah I think that's okay."

Dick's face splits into a giant grin, and before t-John can even try to escape, he's engulfed into a giant hug.

His- Dick's mom used to say he gave the best hugs. It seems like it's true. This is the best hug John’s ever had… or that he owns the artificial memory of having.

Dick splits the hug and holds his hands on John's shoulders, thumbs and fingers finding the little grooves of his collarbone and shoulder blades, unconsciously kneading the muscles there. He still has a goofy grin on his face. John realizes it might be because somehow Zitka has ended up back in his arms.

Of course Dick would still want him to have it. John can't imagine ever giving Zitka up to someone… but Dick's an adult now, and he's already gone so much out of his way just to make John somewhat comfortable here.

"I'll talk to Tim then," Dick says, "I think he's the best choice."

"Okay," John replied, nodding slowly. "Is he the owner of these pajamas?"

Dick's face ripples in amusement. He smiles slightly, though this time it's more to himself. "No… Damian gave us permission for you to use his clothes. He's a little older than you. 13 years old…" Dick's eyes go far away, and then he blinks and shakes his head. "He might be someone you'll meet later, he's just as sweet as all the others, but can be a little… prickly."

John nods. As long as the sibling these clothes belong to knows that he's using them, then that's okay. He wonders.… Who Damian really is to Dick. He doesn't understand that far away look that passed by, but he can tell it must be something special.

"You okay?"

John blinks, exiting his thoughts. He looks at Dick… then at the animal in his hands. He has the intense desire to hold it close to his chest and hug the life out of it in apology for throwing it earlier.

Instead, he tries to force something that feels like a smile but might look more like a grimace. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Dick asks, and John simply shrugs. For throwing a scene? For existing? For everything?

He’s not sure. Dick opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but then some sort of chime breaks through the silence and Dick pulls out a phone that’s definitely more advanced than what John thought a phone could even be. Dick looks at his phone for a second, and then gives a slight smile towards John.

“Speak of the devil, it’s Tim,” Dick says, his eyes soften from the name alone. “He’s wondering if you would want to meet him… apparently Kon’s free tomorrow and he thinks you two should meet while you’re at it. That is- just if you’re comfortable-?”

Kon? As in… Kon-El? Something so afraid and so hopeful twists in his chest, but he’s nodding before he can think too much about it. Dick smiles and begins to talk about how much fun tomorrow will be and John can do nothing but continue to nod along, trying to ignore how that twisting becomes a knot of anxiety.

He has a feeling that things are about to get a little bit better… or So. Much. Worse.

Just… rip off the bandaid… right?

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #nightwing #batman #fanfiction #jin writes #dc #dc comics #clonefic #batman comics

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