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depressedgarbages-stuff · 20 hours ago

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<1>. <2>. <3>

Bruce doesn’t know why Jason is mad at him. At this point, it seems to be an everyday thing.

Jason successfully integrates his way back into the family, making it possible for him to hang out with his brothers without being coerced by anyone. He comes and goes as he pleases and struts around the manor like it’s his home again.

Bruce couldn’t be happier.

So why is his second/third oldest mad at him? It seems like nowadays Jason gets mad at Bruce for breathing the wrong way, or walking too slow, or something completely nonsensical.

It all comes to a head when Jason confronts him in his office when Bruce was just finishing up some paperwork.

“What the fuck is your actual fucking problem?” Jason hissed angrily, slamming his fist down on Bruce’s mahogany table.

Bruce distantly hopes that it won’t leave a mark, but for now, he’s more focused on why his son is swearing at him.

“Hello Jason.” Bruce decides to start, giving him a second to collect his thoughts and mentally see if he’s done anything lately. “I’m afraid I don’t understand-“

“Bullshit! Absolute fucking bullshit!” Jason spat, cutting Bruce off.

Bruce’s eyebrows wrinkled slightly at the many curses directed at him. It’s not like he wasn’t used to it; Gotham is his home, but he just doesn’t know why.

“When was the last time you fucking talked to me?” Jason questioned, rounding the desk and jabbing a finger in Bruce’s shoulder.

This causes Bruce to blink, somehow even more confused than before. “I don’t understand. I’m talking to you right now. And we spoke yesterday.”

“No, you walked into the room looking for Golden Boy, saw me and said some fake ass greeting before turning and basically running away!” Jason swung his hands around, making Bruce lean back in his chair to avoid getting hit. “Why are you avoiding me? I thought… I thought you had forgiven me and stuff…”

“What? Of course I have! You’re always welcome here!”

“Then why are you avoiding me? You don’t invite me places, y-you barely speak to me nowadays…”

Bruce picked at the peeling arm of his swivel chair, peeling off a small portion of the black paint and ripping it into smaller pieces before dropping it on the ground. Alfred would probably make him clean it up. “I’m giving you space.”

Jason blinked, looking down at Bruce in confusion. “Space? Why are you giving me space- so much space? You're never fucking around anymore!”

“Well… because you hate me?”

“What..?”

“You told me…” Bruce says slowly, barely stopping himself from scratching at his arm in the tense silence, a habit Alfred made sure he broke. “You’ve told me multiple times how you hate me… and that I’m not your Dad.”

Jason gaped at Bruce, taking a moment to sit on the edge of Bruce’s desk, running a hand down his face. “Fuck Bruce! I-I wasn’t- ugh! I wasn’t being fucking serious!”

Bruce squints, his eyes darting around Jason's angry and confused expression.

“But… you said it? Why would you say that if you didn’t mean it?” Bruce asked quietly, his chest tightening like it does when he wants to cry.

He hasn’t felt this way in a long time. At least, not so strongly. The kind of feeling that you get when you know everyone around you understands something that you can’t. Why would Jason say something he didn’t mean?

Why did Bruce have to be so fucking stupid. He's supposed to be the world's greatest detective, so why does he always have a hard time deciphering what people mean? Especially his children.

“I don’t understand,” Bruce repeated, his eyes stinging as he flapped his hands before drumming them softly on the arm of his swivel chair, trying to calm himself down. “You’ve said it. You say it all the time.”

“Bruce-“

“All of you say it! You say that you hate me, so you hate me!” Bruce insisted, no longer looking at Jason, the study felt significantly smaller now. “Why would you say it if you don’t mean it? Why would you say something so mean?”

“… Dad…” Jason whispered softly, slowly taking Bruce’s hands in his own. Bruce hadn’t even noticed that his fingernails were painfully digging into the palm of his hand, leaving angry red half moons.

“Dad, if you think that we hate you, then why…?” Jason gestures widely, pointing at nothing in particular yet everything at the same time. “Why do you do this for us? Why are you still here?”

Bruce tilted his head in confusion. Not a single second of this conversation has made any sense to him but he knows this part, it is woven into the very fabric of his being. “Because I love you. I love all of you.”

#my fav's

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depressedgarbages-stuff · 20 hours ago

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Here, a continuation for this post. I didn’t know y’all would hate it that much lol! Apologies, apologies m(._.)m

This was my explanation for it incase you wanted to read that

——

When Dick finally found Bruce, Bruce was silently lying on the floor of the cave. The lights were off, his eyes were closed, and Ace was resting his head on top of his Dad’s chest.

Dick padded over softly, feeling like he was nine years old again and didn’t know how to talk to Bruce.

“Dad…?” Dick whispered, it felt wrong to try and speak at a normal level. Bruce let out a soft hum and cracked his eyes open as Duck kneeled down beside him.

“Hi baby…” Bruce croaked, his voice sounding raw and broken. “How are you?”

Dick gave a crooked grin and laid down beside his Dad, melting as Bruce’s hand gently started to run through his hair. “Better than you, it seems… it was a crazy last week, huh?” Dick began, expecting Bruce to tense up and start deflecting.

“Yeah…” Bruce sighed, staring up unblinkingly at the cave ceiling. Ace let out a soft whine and wiggled his wet nose under Bruce’s chin, drawing him out of his thoughts. “I… I’m sorry… Sometimes… sometimes I can’t understand you or your siblings.”

Dick blinked as his heart started racing. “What? What does that mean?”

Bruce let out a huff of air, like he was trying to carefully pick out the words that he wanted to use. “You don’t like it when I coddle you or I’m overbearing, right?” Bruce felt Dick nod against his shoulder. “But… sometimes you do? I just don’t- I don’t understand when I’m supposed to.”

“Last week… I ignored your leg after we got back from patrol. I’m sorry that was wrong of me to do.” Bruce apologized, leaned over and pressing a soft kiss to Dick’s forehead. “Last month, you got mad at me for fussing over a stab wound… so I thought… I thought it was the same? I didn’t want you to yell at me. I didn’t want to have another argument.”

“I was scared that you were hurt and would be mad if I tried to help, so I went… cold. I know it ended up being a light sprain, but… I-I did want to help.” Bruce’s voice hitched, making the back of Dick’s eyes burn with tears. “But… but you were angrier? O-or sadder? I don’t know. I don’t understand, and I know you’re probably not making it difficult on purpose, but it’s so hard.”

If there’s one thing that could make Dick cry in a second, or even less than that, it’s seeing or hearing his Tati start to cry.

Dick turned his head and buried his face in Bruce’s shoulder, silently glad that his Dad decided to wear one of his softer sweaters that could absorb his tears.

“I’m sorry too, Tati. I… I came looking for a fight, and I took unnecessary risks on patrol just to get you riled up so I could let off some steam. I didn’t even have a real reason to be angry with you last week… I just-”

“Some days… I feel like I’m coming out of my skin. And it’s weird, I just, don’t wanna be perceived by others…” Bruce stayed silently, and once again Dick was glad his Dad let him take his time and try and sort out his thoughts. “Your gaze is heavy, it’s always been heavy.”

“…heavy?”

“Mhmm… like… I know you expect great things from me. And I love that you know that I can achieve them. But sometimes-“

“It’s too much, and you feel like your failures are magnified the moment you make one little mistake?”

“Yeah… how did you know that?”

“Alfred… he’s the one who raised me. I guess I took a bit more of his parenting than I thought.” The two stayed silent for a while, Bruce still running his fingers through Dick’s hair while his son absentmindedly scratched Ace behind the ear.

“I’ve never noticed.”

“Good. I’ve never wanted you to. You needed someone in your life that you could turn to other than me, I’m glad it was Alfred.” They lapsed into silence once more.

“I, of all people, know how hard it is to ask for… affection. Maybe… we could have a code word?” Bruce suggested hesitantly. “Just so I know it’s okay to hover. Or maybe one, so I know you actually want to be left alone?”

Dick couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah… we can work it out. Later though, I’m feeling drained from all this… emotional talking.”

“Ha, yes. I completely understand, especially with the way you cried.” Bruce teased lightly, poking Dick on the cheek.

“Wha- you cried first!” Dick protested, a laugh bubbling up as he swatted at his Dad’s hand. “I love you, Tati.” Dick grinned, squeezing Bruce in a hug.

“I love you too Dickie, so much. My little boy has grown up to be so strong and smart.” Bruce smiled softly, pressing another kiss to Dick’s forehead and chuckling at the embarrassed blush on his son’s cheeks.

“You wanna go watch a movie with me? I’ll even let you have the good blanket.” Dick sprang up from the ground, grinning as Ace also stood up and circled around him happily.

“That’s a lie, but yes, any movie you want, Birdie,” Bruce grunted as he stood up, stretching and ignoring the horrified look on his son’s face as his back cracked loudly. “Alright, Ace, you’re relieved of your duty,” Bruce said, patting the German shepherd on the head once as he barked loudly.

“Why was Ace down here in the first place? And what did you mean by duty?” Dick asked as they started walking toward the elevator, both of them not in the mood to take the stairs.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at Dick. “Ace is my service dog? Like how Titus and Alfred the cat are Damian’s?”

Dick blinked. He did not know either of those things. “Wha-“

“We’ll talk about it later. Cmon.”

——

Jason blinked, staring listlessly at the words in his book. That’s how you could tell he’s really out of it; he doesn’t even remember what book he picked out, and he couldn't care less about it.

Jason was suddenly jolted out of his lethargic state by a familiar knock on the door in a pattern only Bruce did.

It was silent for a while, but Jason knew better. If Bruce had come here in person and knocked on his door, most likely as Bruce Wayne, then he wasn’t going to go away any time soon.

“What,” Jason growled as he threw open the door, silently thrown for a loop the moment he looked at his Dad. “… why do you look like that? And why is Ace here?”

Bruce chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling and showing off the crows feet Jason doesn’t remember him having before. Ew, his Dad looked older. That thought was promptly shoved away to be unpacked later in the very far future.

“I’m sorry for bothering you today… I was wondering if I could talk to you?” Bruce asked, ignoring the way Ace poked his thigh with his nose. “It’s alright if it’s a no. I just wanted to… talk.”

Jason shut down the urge to slam the door shut in his face (only for dramatics, he doesn’t wanna hurt his Dad) and nodded, stepping aside so he could let Bruce and Ace through.

As Bruce sat down, Ace let out a whine and pressed his nose against Bruce’s hand. Bruce rolled his eyes before looking at his son sheepishly. “I’m sorry to ask Jason, do you have a snack I could eat? It seems I have forgotten to eat this morning, and Ace is scolding me.”

Jason frowned, worry curling in his gut as he leisurely made his way to his kitchen, pulling out a box of white cheddar popcorn (the best kind) and tossing Bruce a bag. “You’re paying me back for this shit, I'm not made of money like you,” Jason mumbled, totally not worried because the only time Bruce forgets to eat and Alfred hasn’t reminded him is when something is truly wrong.

“So… what?” Jason questioned, refusing to sit down. He knew power plays; he wouldn’t let Bruce have the upper hand in whatever conversation they were about to have.

Bruce popped a few kernels into his mouth, chewed, and really looked at Jason before sighing. “I’m sorry about last week. Dropping you off like that without talking about it was wrong of me. I don’t want you to think that you can’t come home or to the cave anytime that you’d like, it's your home too.” Bruce apologized.

“Seriously? Is that it-“

“However, I’m not sorry for being upset that you used a gun against someone while I was around, knowing full well how I feel about unnecessary gun usage,” Bruce said, cutting Jason off.

“You are my son. I love you. These are facts and will never change, no matter what you do. I don’t like guns, but more importantly, I don’t like you using real bullets on people, you know this, but you did it anyway.” Bruce stressed, digging his nails into the palms of his hands till Ace’s soft bark stopped him from drawing blood.

“I’m sorry…” Jason whispered softly, shifting on his feet uncomfortably.

Bruce nodded. “I know… and I also know that you’re not going to stop using real bullets, no matter how I feel about it. You’re an adult man who no longer lives under my roof, no longer comes over, if I’m being honest.” Bruce relaxed more into the couch, like the tension in his body was cut as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back. “But…”

Jason bit his bottom lip before shuffling over, flopping down, and resting his head on Bruce’s shoulder, before he could make himself chicken out. “I’m sorry… I just…” Jason hummed, sorting through his thoughts.

“When you trained me to use guns all those years ago, I felt connected to them. I enjoyed how good I was, and how in control I could be. But it also made me feel guilty, using the weapon that had brought you so much pain. That had ruined your life and made you Batman.” Jason started, letting himself reminisce about the past. “And when I came back… it was like a ‘fuck you’ kinda thing, but overtime… I guess it’s how I stayed connected with you when you still didn’t know I was alive.”

Jason shrugged his shoulders as he absentmindedly played with Bruce’s hand and wrist, his fingers running over the multitude of scars, self-inflicted and otherwise. “I won’t stop using guns, but I am sorry that I shot that guy. I felt bad but wanted to act tough in front of you, I guess…”

Bruce hummed, watching Jason play with his fingers before speaking. “I wouldn’t say ‘ruined’ my life. After all, without my… unfortunate tragedy, I wouldn’t have gotten all my wonderful children. And I would never trade you or your siblings for the entire world.” Bruce said softly, pressing a kiss to Jason's forehead.

Jason let out a small cough and turned away, the tips of his ears and the base of his neck flushing a light red at how sappy Bruce was being. “… I don’t think we’ll ever truly agree on this topic,” Jason whispered softly.

“I know. I’m okay with that. I won’t love you any less.” Bruce gently knocked their heads together, something he hadn’t done since Jason was a little kid.

Jason gnawed on his bottom lip and shifted before hiding his face away in Bruce’s shoulder. “Yeah, I love you too, Dad. Just don’t be getting so sentimental all the time. It’s cringe.”

“What is it that Dick is always saying? ‘To be cringe is to be free’ or something?” Bruce quoted, making Jason scrunch up his nose in a way that was exactly the same as Bruce.

“Ew, please don’t go quoting Dickie. We both know he doesn’t need the ego boost.” Jason complained, grinning to himself as Bruce chuckled.

“Alright then, snack on my popcorn that I so graciously gifted to you. However, I’m gonna make you a real meal.” Jason stated, looking his Dad in the eyes with his hands on his hips. “I can’t believe Alfie let you out of the house without eating for… however long you decided to starve yourself!” Jason said in disbelief, Ace barking in agreement.

“Shush, I don’t need the two of you ganging up on me,” Bruce grumbled, fishing out a dog treat from his pocket and tossing it to Ace.

“Dad, can you open this bag of rice? It’s not opening, and Tim stole my scissors last week and hasn’t brought them back.” Jason whined, poking his head out from the kitchen.

It was an obvious lie; Jason could have easily opened the bag with his bare hands, and even then, Jason had a million knives lying around. But it warmed Bruce’s heart that Jason was asking him for help, just like when he was a child.

“Sure, only if I get to be a taste tester.” Bruce agreed with an easy smile, standing up and ambling his way to the kitchen.

“Duh, do you see anyone else here, old man?”

——

Tim felt himself slowly come to wakefulness, humming softly as he felt a large hand gently stroking his hair.

“Hi, sweetheart.” A deep voice rumbled. Very familiar, very safe.

“Bruce?” Tim groaned, forcing his eyes to stay open and focus on his Dad sitting on a chair he pulled up beside his bed. “What… what are you doing?”

Bruce hummed softly and pushed Tim’s bangs out of his face, taking a moment to gaze down at his son’s tired but relaxed expression. “I wanted to see you… I wanted to apologize.”

“For wha?” Tim sighed, melting into his pillow as Bruce lightly scratched his scalp just right. “Feel like a dog when you pet me, Dad…” Tim slurred, a lopsided grin forming on his face as Bruce chuckled.

“I think you’re more like a cat… or a ferret.” Bruce teased, stifling a laugh at Tim’s sleep but offended expression. “My bad. You’re just my son, who becomes very cute when he’s tired.”

“M’ not cute. I’m a grown man.” Tim complained, most definitely not pouting. “Didn’t answer my question… what are you doing here?”

“I was weird last week, wasn’t I? You and your siblings probably talked about it.” Bruce said, deciding not to beat around the bush anymore than he already had. “I’m sorry about that, Tim. I don’t really know what had gotten into me.”

Tim hummed and nodded, staring up at Bruce, looking decidedly less sleepy than a few seconds ago.

“But, I’m only apologizing for how I dismissed you. You’re an adult, Tim, and you and your siblings always remind me of that, so I’m putting this firmly in your hands. I love you, and I don’t want you to destroy yourself with a bad sleepy schedule.”

Tim opened his mouth, probably to call Bruce a hypocrite, but one look from Bruce just stopped him up.

“Yes, I know, I do the same things, which is why I’m telling you this. I suffered the consequences of sleep deprivation and a dependence on caffeine. I’m still dealing with the symptoms, and I don’t want you to be stuck in this cycle like I am.” Bruce gently cupped Tim’s cheek, his thumb brushing under Tim’s eyes as he looked at the eye bags his child had.

“You are so young and so bright. Doing this will put a strain on you and hurt you in the future. I can’t force you to do anything, and I know you barely take what I say into consideration.” Bruce let out a huff of laughter. “But take this into consideration: I love you, and your family loves you. We want the best for you and your health. Please take a break, my dear.”

Tim sniffled and looked up at Bruce sadly. “I know, I know it’s just… I feel like I have to prove myself, you know? I don’t mean to brush you off or anything, but it feels like I’m the only one who can get these cases done, and if I’m off sleeping or doing anything else, people could be getting hurt. It’ll be my fault.”

“If I’ve ever made you feel like I’m disappointed in you for taking care of yourself, you have my explicit permission to slap me or punch me or just do whatever you want,” Bruce said seriously, his mouth drawn in a thin line. “If you don’t want to, call Clark.”

“Even if a million cases never get solved, I’d be happy just knowing you’re safe, happy, and healthy,” Bruce said softly. “I mean, you could quit being Red Robin tomorrow and I’d be happy.”

“Dad.”

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.” Bruce grinned, causing Tim to grin back at him. “I’m real sorry, Timmy, honest.”

“S’ okay, I forgive you. I’m sorry too, Dad.”

“That’s okay, I forgive you, too,” Bruce said softly, noticing how Tim had regained the sleepy look in his eyes. “Guess I’ve kept you up for too long, go to sleep, my dear.”

Tim gripped the sleeve of Bruce’s turtle neck as he tried to pull away, frowning in an exaggerated manner that he would deny to the ends of the earth, which looked like pouting.

“Hey, you disrupted me in the middle of my nap. The least you can do is join me, Dad.” Tim said, tugging Bruce back toward him.

“Tim, I’m not sure your bed is big enough for both of us,” Bruce said warily, still allowing his son to tug him closer without any resistance.

“That’s okay, I’m fine with lying on top of you, and I know you are too,” Tim said with a sleepy grin, content to let his Dad rearrange his body so the two were lying down comfortably.

“Good?” Bruce murmured softly, running his hands through Tim’s hair as his second youngest started to drift off once more.

“Yea… all… good,” Tim whispered, a small smile on his face as he felt Bruce press a kiss to his forehead before he drifted off once more, feeling a thousand times lighter.

——

Bruce listened to the phone ring impassively, not really expecting his youngest son to pick up. So, when he heard Damian’s stiff voice mail message that Dick had forced him to set up instead of the standard one, he sighed softly.

“Hello, Damian… I hope you’re having fun over at the Kent farm. I just wanted to call and say that I miss you.” Bruce paused, looking down at the note cards he had written just to map out what he wanted to say before pushing them away. “I can’t wait till you’re back home, but I know you love being surrounded by all the animals. Be safe, say hi to Lois for me, I love you, Habibi.”

Bruce set down his phone and frowned, already rethinking the message he left when his phone rang, Damian’s name flashing on the screen. Without a single second's thought, Bruce picked up his phone before it could ring twice.

“Baba…” Damian hiccuped the moment Bruce picked up, breaking his heart completely. “You…”

“Oh no, baby, take a deep breath for me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Bruce tried to soothe, helping Damian work through his hiccups and calm down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you again. D-do you want me to hang up?”

Damian hiccuped again softly before sniffling. “No… can you come pick me up?”

Bruce’s eyebrows shot up in confusion, even if he was already standing up and making his way to the Batcave. Secret identity be damned, he was taking his fastest jet. “Me? You don’t want Jon or Clark to drop you off? It’d be faster.”

“No… I just really want to see you. Is that alright?”

“Of course, it is Hayati, I want to see you as well. I missed you so much.” Bruce took in a short breath and punched in the coordinates for the Kent farm, ignoring the lurch as the jet spread out of the cave and was at the farm in under ten minutes.

The moment Bruce jumped out of the jet, Damian was in his arms, hugging him tightly, which was really special because even after all these years, Damian rarely initiated physical affection.

“I’m sorry! I was being so horrible-“ Damian blubbered, soaking the front of Bruce’s turtle neck with his tears.

“Hey, no no no. What’s this? Who said my son was horrible? Where did you ever get such a silly idea?” Bruce immediately shut down Damian’s self-deprecating words, picking Damian up and kissing his forehead before glancing over at Clark with a concerned but confused expression.

“He’s been on his phone a lot, I think he might’ve read somethin’ online,” Clark whispered, gently patting Damian on the back before ushering a worried Jon inside to give them as much privacy as they could.

Bruce carried Damian inside the jet, activating the lead lining so the Kents wouldn’t be able to listen in. Bruce knew Damian would die of mortification if Jon heard him being more emotional than he already was.

Damian silently took the bottled water Bruce offered him but made no move to open it, instead swinging his legs over the edge of the chair where Bruce sat him.

“I know it’s dangerous outside… especially in Gotham… but…” Damian bit his lower lip, trying to fight off the onslaught of tears through sheer force of will. “I read online that a lot of parents don’t let their kids stay out all night, but it’s for a good cause. I’m a very mature person, I'm different than regular people.”

Bruce sighed and ran his fingers through his hair before kneeling in front of Damian, making sure to make eye contact with his youngest child. “It’s not that I don’t believe that you’re capable of taking care of yourself. In fact, I know you are. But your siblings can attest to the fact that I worry and I will always worry, no matter how ‘mature’ you see yourself.”

“An overnight charity event for animal rights is an admirable gesture to give your free time up for, but I can’t allow it, Damian.” Bruce reached for Damian’s hand and gently held it. “You’re still newly fourteen, and no matter what you think or how you feel, you are a child, and it is my duty as your father to protect you and keep you safe.”

Damian let out a sigh and leaned forward, resting his head against Bruce’s shoulder and frowning. “But… I really wanted to go.”

“I know, baby,” Bruce murmured, rubbing Damian’s back. “And if one of your siblings, or I, was free that night, we would’ve gone with you. But we’re not, and I’m not sending you there alone with people I haven’t met.”

Damian nodded. He knew it was reasonable, logically, but he was still only a kid. He wanted what he wanted.

“You have every right to feel upset, and I’m sorry it seemed like I just shipped you off without talking to you, sweetheart. It was rough last week, but that’s not an excuse. I should’ve calmly explained it to you.” Bruce apologized, pulling back from the hug so he could look Damian in the eyes.

“Damian,” Bruce started. “I’m not allowing you to go to that overnight charity event. I understand it’s for a cause you care about deeply, but I care about you more. I love you so much, and all I want is for you to be safe.”

Damian laughed softly, wiping away the tears on his face and hugging Bruce tightly. “Explanation received and understood, Baba. I… love you too.

Bruce pressed two quick kisses to Damian’s cheeks, silently reverent that Damian had grown so much and was happily receptive to his physical affection before pulling back and standing up.

“Let’s get home. I’ll let you pick out ten charities for wildlife and animal care to donate to, hm?”

Damian nodded and straightened in the seat, putting on an air of his usual elegance even if his face was still red and splotchy from his cry session.

“I would like that very much, Baba. I’m not going to get grounded, am I? This doesn’t technically count as ‘running away’. I read that online.”

Bruce sighed before chuckling. “I’m a little worried about what else you read online, but no, you’re not getting grounded. This was on me after all.”

Damian nodded. “Good. Now let’s go home. I want to sleep in my own bed.”

——

<Prev>. <Explanation>.

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