#tw: bad parenting

[superbattrash]

Sometimes I wonder how I became so obsessed with being competitive about the stupidest things. Who slept the least, who ate the slowest, who had it worse — things I’m actively changing as I get older because it’s just unhealthy and stupid to think those things are things you can or should want to “win”

Then I sat in the car with my mother today and I told her I was tired because I’d been up since 4am to go to work and before I could get to my point (that it was nice to see her (a white lie to be nice) but that I wouldn’t wanna come back to the house because I’m already tired) she interrupted me and said “I got up at 6. And yesterday I got up at 5:30. And I have to get up super early tomorrow because [ridiculous reason that she chose herself]”

I physically felt myself want to say “well I get up early every day!!” because that’s the response she’s taught me. Always have it worse than everybody else or you’re not allowed to speak about things you find difficult/tiring. You’re not allowed space (a whole other issue I was taught as a child) but if you want it, it has to be because you have it the worst but you’re being so brave (read: whiny) about it

And once again I am reminded that my parents should never have had children. Because these things - being worth nothing if you’re not sick or feeling awful in some way (but without ever saying you feel bad, because then you’re just being pathetic), not being allowed to take up space, to make any noise, to express yourself in any way that isn’t sitting still and being quiet out of sight - are insane to enforce on your child. On your children, because I remind you that these people made 4 babies. 4. It’s not just me. There are 3 other idiots (mostly affectionate) who suffer with not wanting to take up space and who think they have to compete in “who has it worse” competitions daily

And how the hell do I unlearn these things when they’re shoved in my face every time I see this woman or any of my siblings?

[thebibliosphere]

I had a severe mast cell reaction to something last night for the first time in the longest time* and I can honestly say, hand on heart, I have no idea how I lived like that 24/7 for years.

I have no idea how I dealt with that nightly as a child, only to be yelled at and told to stop attention seeking, while last night my partner held me while I shook and prepared to stick me with an epi pen.

Thankfully he didn’t have to. Thankfully my airways cleared after my body purged itself of everything I’d eaten yesterday** and my heart rate began to climb down. But Jesus Christ, I am wrecked this morning.

* no idea why, only thing I can think of is hormones + sugar which can sometimes raise histamine levels

** everyone thinks anaphylactic reactions start with visible swelling and airway constriction, but for me it’s always been the much slower reaction of severe gastric symptoms which progresses to rapid elevated heartbeat, followed by agonizing acid reflux that burns through my whole chest and then if it doesn’t stop, my airways start to close while I simultaneously start to “fall asleep” (that’s the shock.)

Very rarely do I get visible swelling or hives unless whatever triggered the reaction was from skin contact or injected into my veins. So, just so you know, anaphylaxis doesn’t always look the way it does in the movies. I tell you this only in case it saves a life one day.

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Pt 4 of forever teen Danny adopted JJ Tim and Red Hood Jason. Sorry if you're a Batman or Nightwing fan, I'm not nice to them in this one.

[Pt3: Here][pt5: here]

The last 4 years have been a riot. Danny has 2 wonderful and slightly unhinged boys that he stole from the Bats. They've gotten in so many shenanigans, between normal vigilante shit, the Bats and/or ghost/supernatural hunters trying to bag them, and them just fucking around.

It's the most fun he's had in a while. They're good kids, but they, of course, have started branching out. They're 19 (Jason) and 17(Tim) now and don't necessarily want their dad following them around. So Danny gave them his personal summons just in case and made them promise to stay close together, the two of them are good at covering for the other's weaknesses. Like how Tim only being Liminal, he can take more hits from the ghost hunters that will clock Jason as a Revenant or Jason's supernatural strength taking out the bigger assholes that target Tim for his small size or Joker mannerisms.

So he tries not to worry, simply going to work and trusting them to either deal with any trouble themselves or summon him. And for 3 months they don't need to summon him once. But at the end of month 3, he feels it.

"Hey, Eddy! I got to go! My kids are in trouble!" Danny calls to his boss, already moving to somewhere there's less witnesses to see him poof.

"Okay! See ya! ...Wait, you have kids?" Danny doesn't answer, letting the summons take ahold and pull him through the fabric of reality.

A fun side effect of being summoned is that he always ends up in his High King form. The form is humanoid in the vaguest of sense. It's also just stars and the void of space. His eyes are giant stars and his mouth is too wide and full of rows and rows of needle-like teeth. A crown of ice smokes like dry ice on his head and the ring of rage is simple stripe of neon green on his right hand's middle finger (he thought it'd be funny to flip people off with it). All in all, he's terrifying for mortals to see unprepared.

And the cussing around him tells the people hassling his sons are NOT prepared.

"HOW THE FUCK DID YOU SUMMON THE GHOST KING???" A very distraught British man shrieks. Danny would feel bad, but this idiot is standing near the Bat and Nightwing AND Danny's sons are tied up in front of them.

"DAaaaAD!" Tim whines, flopping over to look at him. "They're trying to excorise Hoodie!"

"Are they now?" Danny hisses. His voice sounds like glaciers crashing together.

"Bats! What the fuck??? You didn't tell me THAT WAS THEIR DAD!" British man sounds on the brink of a mental breakdown.

"We've never seen this entity." Batman frowns.

"Yeah! They've been calling a ghost kid dad this whole time!" Nightwing defends. "How were we supposed to know they could summon this guy??"

"What...what did you say the "kid"'s name was?" British dude asks faintly.

"We didn't." Batman says.

"Weeell, Johnny-boy!" Jason sounds like he has a shit eating grin. "What they didn't tell you is our sweet ol' adoptive father is called Phantom~!"

"Oh goodie! We're so dead..." "Johnny" says and starts chugging his flask of probably alcohol. It suddenly clicks that this is the fabled John Constantine.

"You should know better than to take a job half-assed, John Constantine." Danny grins with teeth.

"Oh good, he knows my name.." Constantine mumbles to himself.

"Give me one good reason to not kill you all for trying to kill my son and kidnap the other." Danny waves a hand and slices his sons' bindings. "I have only been so patient with you bats because my sons are fond of you, but my patience is running out."

"Tim belongs with us! He needs help and healing!" Nightwing proclaims.

"I talk to a licensed therapist twice a week and take my meds every day! Try again, Big Birdie!!" Tim snarls. "Just because I'm not what you want me to be doesn't mean I'm a broken doll in need of saving!"

"Besides, don't you have a new bird to destroy?" Jason asks with a head tilt. "The second birdie died, the third got mentally fucked, the four died... I think we can count birdie #1 as mentally fucked up, meaning if we follow the pattern, birdie #5 will be mentally fucked by the time he flies the nest."

"How do you know so much about us, Red Hood?" Batman demands with a scowl.

"He doesn't have to tell you anything!" Tim steps in front of Jason and glares.

"I'm still waiting on a reason to not kill you." Danny reminds them. The bats look towards Constantine.

"Don't look at me, mates. That's head bitch of all head bitches. The fact he's letting you plead your case after threatening what he deems as his is a step up huge from most overpowered dead guys. From what I heard, the last guy would have just killed us the moment he was summoned and then destroyed the whole dimension afterwards. This guy beat that guy in single combat." Constantine pulls out a cigarette before addressing Danny, "Your Majesty, I had no idea these were your kids. I was just told a Revenant had kidnapped and "brainwashed" the ex-Robin. Clearly, I wasn't told accurate information."

Nightwing sputters, "What Do You Mean?? Clearly Tim has been brainwashed or something!!"

Constantine whips around to Nightwing, "Oh shut up, you big blue twit! King Phantom DESPISES mind control! Which means your ex-bird is with these two completely willingly."

"There's n-" Nightwing tries, but Constantine bulldozes on.

"I don't know what you did to the kid, nor do I care. But he's considered ROYALTY to the dead and undead now. He doesn't have to have ANYTHING to do with you. If you take him away from his new and apparently accepting family, that's considered an interdimensional crime, and no magician or supernatural or even god-like being will help you." Constantine takes a long drag of his cigarette. "I suggest you apologize, make your excuses, then leave them the fuck alone. Besides, crime has been at a record low in Gotham from what I hear. Let them do what they want. "

"That's because Red Hood keeps killing the Rouges!" Nightwing protests. "Who gives him the right to be judge, jury, and executioner???"

Constantine points to Danny and says flatly. "The ruler of basically everything, that's who."

Danny grins at him, his ghost half is very pleased with the man. "I shall spare you, magic man."

Constantine looks like he's going to faint from relief, moving to park himself by the door. "Just fucking apologize and leave them be, Bats."

"But!" Nightwing looks like he's going to cry. He turns his teary eyes to Tim. "Why can't you just come home, Timmy?"

"What home?" Tim stares down his nose at Nightwing, anger clear in his voice. "The Manor was Never my home. I was simply the stand in for your and B's grief for a boy you both pushed to his death. Phantom showed me what family really was. And that was AFTER I was too broken for you to accept. I was NOT Joker Junior then or now. I'm my own fucking person and I'm staying with the family that accepts me for ALL my oddities."

"You tried to put him in Arkham when he tried to go to you." Red Hood growls. "He wanted your support and help and you were going to lock him up and throw away the key."

"We were n-"

"YOU WERE!" Tim starts to trembling in hurt and rage. "You couldn't even look at me! I wanted you so badly to help me and you were going to put me in there right next to Harley! I wanted you to be my family, but I've only ever been a tool to you!"

"You weren't-" Danny doesn't like how the Bats seem ready to jump at his kids, so he freezes the Bats' feet to the floor.

"Shut up, Dickwing." Jason snarls, pulling Tim into a hug. "You lost your chance to be his brother 4 years ago. Go pretend to care about the new cannon fodder. We don't want to hear it."

"Hood." Batman finally speaks. "Who are you?"

"Who do you think, old man?" Jason takes his hood off for the first time ever in front of the Bats. They visibly startle, recognizing him despite all the changes.

"Ja-" The Bat starts.

"Shut up." Jason glares. "You were a shit dad and brother to me in life. I found the BEST family in death."

Danny picks up his boys, deciding to let them decide on the severity of the Bats' punishment. "Maiming or death?"

"... I say maim, but only because I know the newest bird and want him to stay out of the death cult his mother's in." Jason says softly. The Bats sqawk as they Just realize Danny froze their feet to the floor. Mortal tools and fire can't break/melt his ice, but it's amusing to watch the bats try.

Tim is quiet for nearly 3 whole minutes, locked in some sort of internal battle, before he answers. "Maim in a, at least mostly, healable way. Gotham needs Batman, even if we don't."

"Hmm." Danny ignores the Bats' protests to think about what he should do. "Ah! I know exactly what to do!"

He unfreezes their feet and gently forces both to the ground and processes to break both of Nightwing's legs and both of Batman's arms. He pulls one of their coms off and hands it to Tim, he's the only one that sounds normal on normal tech. Jason hasn't been able to use normal tech since Danny fixed his ecto, so Danny modifies anything he or Jason use.

"Hi, Agent A! Batgirl!" Tim's cheerful tone barely hides his seething rage. "You should send a pick up for Dickiebird and B-man! They need medical attention! Ba-bye~!"

Danny can hear the shouting over the com, but Tim simply yeets it towards the Bats instead of listening to whatever they have to say.

"I have a reason for the injuries I picked." Danny informs the room. Jason and Tim look intrigued, Constantine looks exhausted and slightly guilty about the Bats getting hurt on his watch, and the Bats themselves look dazed and in pain, so who knows if they'll remember his reasonings. "Nightwing is an acrobat and truly a bird, so grounding him is cruel, but hopefully he feels as small and helpless as you both did. Grounding him will give him time to think on his actions and their consequences."

Danny's sons look curiously at the grounded Nightwing before looking back to him.

"I broke Batman's arms so that he's forced to ask for help and communicate. He's far too old for his shitty behavior." Danny frowns. "They both need therapy, but I doubt the flying furries will actually get the help they need."

Tim suddenly cackles in delight. "Maybe THEY should check THEMSELVES into Arkham! Ya know! Since they think I, the one ACTUALLY getting help, should be in there!"

Jason starts cackling alongside his brother while Danny chuckles.

"I shall take my children home now, good day." Danny says while wrapping his sons in his invisibility and intangibility and takes them home. A cozy 3 bedroom apartment on the top floor of a building Jason owns as Red Hood.

[nikoisme]

This pain will linger with me still, I pray this too shall pass.

[galaxymagitech]

…Bruce. You brainwashed him. Your abused son placating you does not mean you made amends.

Also… “The worst of it now. Having to explain my actions.” Do you have any idea how you sound right now Bruce? Well? Do you?!?

As it turns out, Bruce doesn’t even end up explaining his actions. Instead, he shoots his son in the face.

Yeah, I’m not kidding. The man who has trauma about his family being shot proceeds to…shoot his family. And honestly, “I did it to shatter his helmet to make sure he’s not Clayface” is a really terrible excuse. Keep in mind that this occurs during an argument over Bruce saving the Joker yet again.

Anyway. Wanna play spot the difference?

Yeah, the stuff Bruce was saying in RHatO 25 was worse, but the context of Batman 159 is worse. And the fact that Bruce shot Jason in the face. Even with the helmet it’s a true wtf moment.

I don’t know why Jason went “evil” this time but tbh even if it’s not a trick or some secret plan (which it very well could be) I’m kinda with Jason here.

[incorrectbatfam]

Which of the batkids have been in a child safety tether (as in, you are safe from the child) and why?

[at the amusement park]

Bruce: Now have fun, but remember that safety comes first. If I catch you doing anything unsafe, you're gonna have to wear this backpack with a rope so I can keep an eye on you. Understood?

8-year-old Dick: Yes sir!

Dick: *immediately starts climbing the Ferris wheel*

Bruce: Ten seconds, that's a new record.

———————

[before a gala]

12-year-old Jason: I'm not a pet. You can't put me on a leash.

Bruce: Like I said, it's only if you misbehave. All you have to do is smile for the cameras. If you feel uncomfortable, just tell me and we can go early.

Jason: Ugh, fine.

[later]

Alfred: Master Bruce, I saw Master Jason outside removing the hubcaps from a very expensive limo.

———————

14-year-old Tim: According to my research, you've used a child leash to keep Robin in line, and I just want you to know that you've got nothing to worry about when it comes to me.

[3 years later]

Bruce: Why are you covered in blood?

17-year-old Tim: I got a new spleen.

Bruce: Where exactly did you get it?

Tim: That's private medical information.

———————

Bruce: *talking to Commissioner Gordon*

16-year-old Steph: *tries to sneak to the ice cream truck*

Bruce: Nice try, young lady.

Bruce: *clips the leash on*

———————

Cass: *on the leash*

Barbara: What'd she do?

Bruce: She had coffee. This is a precaution.

———————

Damian, on the leash: This is humiliating!

Bruce: It's what happens when you try to sneak batarangs into a birthday party.

Damian: Can you at least loosen it? It is chafing.

Bruce: Sure.

Bruce: *loosens it*

Damian: *grabs a cake knife, cuts the cord, and sprints away*

———————

Tim: Duke's lucky he doesn't have to deal with the child leash.

Duke: Child leash? Like the thing they use on preschoolers?

Damian: Mhm. Father would put us on it when we misbehaved.

Jason: You cut it in half the first time. You barely even had it on.

Duke: Is it that green one on the Batcave floor?

Steph: Green? The one I had was purple.

Dick: No it's not, it's blue.

Jason: Nope, pretty sure it was red.

Tim: Mine was a shade of orange.

Cass: Pink. Didn't have black.

Dick: Wait, guys, are you thinking what I'm thinking?

[later]

Bruce, on a long rainbow leash: I should've seen this coming.

[popcornpoppypop]

At The End Of The Day

Summary: Kit and Robby deal with having a newborn in the house. Robby notices changes with Kit. He'll keep her from drowning, no matter what.

Warnings: Postpartum depression, intrusive thoughts, bad moms, talks of birth

A/N: I have never had a baby nor postpartum. I did a lot of research for this one. I feel like there are a lot of fics that just end with the happy family and wanted to sprinkle a little reality in there. This is The Pitt after all.

The moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the bed and its inhabitants. The Robinavitch house was quiet; everyone was sleeping soundly. Michael and Kit were tangled in each other’s arms, Hawkeye snoring at their feet.

A cry crackles through the baby monitor on the nightstand.

The two stirred, Michael sitting up out of instinct and practically still unconscious. Kit groaned as she rolled over, pushing herself up.

“I got her.” Robby murmured.

“She needs to be fed.” Kit groaned.

“We have bottles in the fridge. Sleep.” He cleared his throat.

“And let my tits leak all over myself for no goddamn reason? Brilliant.” Kit snapped as she padded out of the room. Robby felt like he had whiplash, unsure what had just happened.

She’s tired, he thought. They both were. It had been only a week since they had brought Abby home. For the most part, they had adjusted. It was, however, evident that Kit was starting to feel the toll of their new responsibilities more than he was.

He got up and went to the nursery. He stood silent in the doorway, watching Kit. She sat in the rocking chair, the baby held to her breast. The shadows hid her face, the silhouette was still enough to take Robby’s breath away. He never would get used to the sight, something so intimate and beautiful about it. He had to choke back tears every time he saw her feed their baby.

The sound of sniffling made him tip his head in confusion.

He cleared his throat, a small warning that there was another person near, as he walked toward her.

Kit was in her own world, the baby suckling and her head bowed. She didn’t care that Robby was there.

He knelt in front of her, her face clearer, as were the tears falling down her cheeks. It took him by surprise.

“Kit?” His voice soft, afraid of startling her.

“Don’t.” She whispered. “I can’t do this right now.” Her voice was small and fragile.

“Alright. I’ll sit here then, that okay?” Robby put his hands on her knees. She nodded. They sat together in the moonlight as the baby finished feeding. Kit put Abby back in her crib, the baby settling back down.

Robby came up behind her, running his hands up and down her arms. The feeling had always calmed Kit, it was a small gesture that had saved her time and time again. Not this time. In this moment, it was closer to a cheese grater against her skin.

“Stop.” She bit and stomped off, back to the bedroom.

Robby stood staring at the doorway that Kit had just left through, a strange, dejected feeling washing over him.

The sun was streaming through the window, it beat against Kit’s eyelids. She groaned as she sat up. She looked over to see that Robby had woken up already.

The smell of coffee and food felt like a warm hug as she walked into the kitchen. Robby stood over the stove, the baby in her rocker on the floor near him. He looked up at the sound of Kit entering.

“Decaf is ready when you want it.” He smiled

“Great.” Kit forced a smile, he could tell.

“Do you want some eggs? I know they are hit or miss for you.” He observed her as she made her coffee. It was clinical more than romantic.

“That’s fine.” She shrugged.

“I can make something else, if you want.”

“That’s dumb, you’re already doing eggs, just make the damn eggs.” She sighed as she walked over to the table and set her mug down.

“O-kay.” Robby felt himself getting frustrated and did his best to stamp it out.

“When did she eat last?” Kit sipped her coffee.

“About an hour ago. She’s okay.” He smiled down at the baby as she gurgled in her rocker.

“Did you change her?”

“Yes. Honey, I’ve got her taken care of. Don’t worry about her right now.” He put the plate of eggs in front of her.

“Don’t be so patronizing. I’m just checking on my daughter.” Kit snapped.

“That’s not fair.” Robby looked down at her, his annoyance evident.

“Whatever.” She sighed. The baby started crying in her rocker. Kit moved to get up but Robby gestured for her to sit down. He gathered the baby up in his arms and cooed for her to settle.

“We’re going to go and play in the living room so you can have your breakfast.” Robby sighed as he walked off.

The day went on and Kit couldn’t shake the cloud over her head. Robby did his best to keep everything light.

Kit was sitting on the couch, watching some nonsense on the TV, Abby was lying on Robby’s chest. She watched as he rubbed gentle circles on her back. A thought flashed across her mind. It was terrifying and came out of nowhere.

He’s going to take her from you and you won’t care.

Kit shook her head, the tears burning her eyes.

He’s going to take her and you won’t see her again and you’ll be relieved.

She felt her chest tighten.

He’s going to take her because he knows what a bad mother you are, what a bad person you are.

She sat up straight in her seat, her hands rubbing up and down her thighs and breath picking up.

You’ll be so relieved when they aren’t here and you’ll get the confirmation that you’re no better than your mother.

Kit jumped up and rushed over to them.

“Give her to me.” She said, her voice panicked and shaky. She pried the baby off his chest.

“Kit, what the hell?” Robby looked up at her furious and confused.

“She’s my baby too. I’m allowed to hold her.” She snapped as she rushed out of the room. It was the first time Robby didn’t recognize his wife.

The tensions only grew worse over the next few weeks. Robby did his best to be understanding. He tried to give her space and let her work through whatever was going on.

“Can you just clean up after yourself, honestly!” Kit snapped as she tossed Robby’s coffee mug into the dishwasher that he had left in the sink.

“Kit, I put it down for a second. I was going back for it.” His shoulders were tensed.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Kit scoffed.

“I’m tired of this. Can you tell me what I can do right?” Robby snapped.

“Don’t yell at me.”

“You don’t stop yelling at me and I have no idea what is happening!” Robby through his hands in the air.

“Just leave me alone, right now.” Kit hissed.

“Right. I’ll just go spend every waking moment with our baby that can’t hold a conversation yet. Fine.” He knew he shouldn’t have said it. But he did it anyway.

“If you don’t want to spend time with your daughter, why did you knock me up then!?” Kit barked.

“I’m not doing this.” Robby turned and stomped off.

Robby was at his wits end. He was trying so hard to help her. Any time he broached the subject, Kit brushed him off or bit his head off.

Kit could feel herself slipping away. She felt herself turning into something different. It was dark and heavy and she couldn’t figure out how to fight it. She knew that this wasn’t rare, but she didn’t think it would happen to her.

The late nights and early mornings were getting to her. She just needed some sleep, she told herself.

She stood rocking the baby in the living room, standing by the window to get some sunlight. Abby was cooing and wriggling in her arms. Kit watched her face scrunch up and test it’s flexibility. She should be enthralled, Kit thought. But she was indifferent.

Robby walked into the room, watching her stare down at Abby. The look on her face was disconcerting. He walked up behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“She’s getting so animated with her face.” He hummed.

“She’s supposed to by now.” Kit’s voice was monotone.

“It’s fun to watch it happen, though.” Robby rubbed her shoulder.

“I need a shower.” Kit passed the baby off to him.  

“Kit?” Robby called after her.

“What?” She snapped.

“I know it’s hard. But you’re doing really well.” Robby smiled. Kit watched him for a long, silent moment. Tears pricked behind her eyes. She shook her head and left.

The baby monitor crackled with soft sounds that lulled Robby awake. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. He looked over to find himself alone in the bed. He was going to roll over and sleep when he heard the sounds again. It was soft, but the sobs of his wife had him up and out of the bedroom quick.

He walked into the nursery to find Kit in her rocking chair, the baby nursing in her arms. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed.

“Kitty, what’s wrong?” Robby fumbled his way over to her. “Is it painful? I can get that massage thing.” He moved to get up but Kit grabbed his wrist.

“I can’t do this, Michael.” She sobbed.

“What are you talking about?” Robby knelt down in front of her.

“I can’t…it’s too much. I might…I might hate her. I don’t want to hate her.” Kit sobbed. Robby’s heart stopped in his chest. The pain she’d been keeping to herself to spare them was breaking her.

“Honey. When…when did this start?” He brushed a stray hair from her face.

“I don’t know. I just keep having these thoughts, horrible thoughts. I hate who I am. It’s miserable.” Kit sobbed. The baby finished feeding and Robby took her and settled her in her crib.

“It’s okay. This happens. Everyone has scary thoughts, it doesn’t mean you hate her.” Robby put his hands on her knees.

“I-I’m turning into my mother.” Kit cried. Robby wrapped her up in his arms, kissing her head.

“You are not your mother. You’re not. We’re going to get through this. You just need some help. We’ll figure this out.” He promised and Kit sobbed, her hands clawing at his shirt, desperate for escape.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” her voice was raw. She wasn’t sure who she was apologizing to at this point. Maybe Robby, maybe the baby or perhaps herself.

“Shhh. You’re okay. You don’t need to apologize.” Robby held her tight to his chest. “Let’s go to bed. You need some sleep.” He pulled her to her feet, guiding her back to their bed. Her emotions taking their toll caused her to pass out the second her head hit the pillow.

Robby sat up all night looking up the best ways to help and the best therapists in Pittsburgh. He sent emails, pulling on every favor owed to him to get her in somewhere.

Dr. Robinavitch,

I’m sorry to hear of your wife’s struggles. This is very common and, unfortunately, rarely discussed. I want to ease some potential grief that you’re feeling and let you know that it’s hard to differentiate the signs of postpartum from exhaustion; you didn’t miss anything.

I would be more than willing to see Katherine this week. I understand the urgency this case has for you. I have personally dealt with postpartum myself and can understand how quickly it can escalate. If she is willing to come on Thursday, I have an opening at 1pm. I will tentatively schedule it for her.

Please let her know that this isn’t a failure or defect in her. That’s the most important thing you can do for her.

Sincerely,

Dr. Joanna Groff.

The morning light was harsh, unwelcome this morning. It felt nagging. Kit rolled over to find the bed empty. She groaned as she got up, her tits hurt, her head hurt, her body ached. She thought she would start to feel better once Abby was born, but she felt worse than ever.

She walked to the nursery, pulling her robe close to her to fight the cool air. She stood in the doorway, watching Robby hold their daughter. His big arms enveloped her tiny body. She looked so small in his embrace.

“Mama is so good to you. We just need to help her a little. We’re going to take care of her just like she takes care of us.” He hummed to the baby, bringing her close and kissing her soft hair.

Kit’s chest tightened and twisted. She felt so much from those words. She wanted to revel in the beauty of them. She wanted to be comforted by his care. But she couldn’t fight the feeling of failure. She couldn’t stop her mind from spiraling and her mother’s words ringing in her head.

“You think you can do better? Please! You’re no better than me, you’re just like me.”

She couldn’t stifle the sob. It echoed into the nursery. Robby whipped around, surprised to see her and the tears streaming down her face. He put the baby down and gathered her up in his arms.

“You’re okay.” He murmured into her hair.

“I’m just like her.” She whispered.

“Nope, not even a little. Come here,” Robby pulled her to the living room and sat her on the couch. He knelt in front of her, holding her face in his hands.

“She told me that I was no better than her, the day Abby was born. I fought her, but maybe she was right.” Kit shook her head.

“No, she’s never been right about you. Kitty, you are so much more than your mother could ever be.” Robby brushed the tears from her cheeks.

“I know you think you’re failing right now, but you’re not. Your mother would never be this upset; she wouldn’t care the way you do. You care so much, it’s too much for you right now. That’s okay. I’m not letting you drown.” He told her, holding her shaking hands in his.

“What if I can’t get out of this?” She couldn’t look at him.

“I’m not letting that happen. I pulled some favors, I got you in with Dr. Groff. She’s the best in the state. She’s gone through this too, she’s going to help us. I’m getting you whatever you need, okay?”

“Okay. Okay.” She shook her head; her body couldn’t stop shaking.

“I love you so much.” He wrapped her up in his arms, Kit clung on to him for dear life.

Kit hadn’t realized it until she was in the parking lot of Dr. Groff’s office, but that was the first time she had left the house for herself since Abby was born. The world felt foreign, scarier. Her hands shook as she opened the car door and made her way inside.

“Hello, how can I help you?” The receptionist’s bright smile didn’t help Kit’s nerves.

“I have an appointment at 1 pm with Dr. Groff. Should be under Robinavitch.” She cleared her throat.

“Of Course. She’s finishing up with her last appointment. I’ll let you know when she’s ready.” Kit nodded and sat in the plastic cushioned chair. The waiting room was sterile. The pictures on the wall were stock photos of plants. The magazines on the side table taunted her with headlines like; How to relearn self-love, 6 ways to a happier mindset, You steer the ship: how to take control of your decisions.

“Mrs. Robinavitch, she’s ready.” The Receptionist smiled. She got up and walked into the office. She was shocked to see how different Dr. Groff’s office was from the waiting room. There was a colorful rug on the floor, the furniture was soft and pillowy, and the walls were covered in beautiful art. There was a warmth to it.

“Mrs. Robinavtich, have a seat.” The woman was in her mid-fifties, her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun on top of her head. Her clothes were loose and airy. Her top was an earthy green and her pants a deep maroon. Her glasses sat on the tip of her nose, just above a kind smile.

“It’s Dr. Robinavitch, actually.” Kit cleared her throat as she sat on the couch.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were both doctors. I’ll make a note of that in your file.” She nodded as she scribbled something on her notebook.

“It gets confusing. Katherine is fine.” Her body was tense, and she was trying to make herself as small as possible.

“I bet. What is your specialty?”

“EM, like Michael. Same department at PTMC. I just go by Dr. R and he’s Dr. Robby. Still causes some confusion with the med students.”

“Well, it’s not hard to confuse them.” Groff chuckled.

“True.”

“Shall we get down to it?” Groff gave a soft smile, trying to encourage Kit.

“I guess. I’m not sure where to start?” Kit gave a nervous laugh.

“Wherever feels most comfortable for now.”

“Right.” Kit bit at her nails. “I guess, I started having these…thoughts about a week after Abby was born.”

“Abby is your daughter?”

“Yes. Abigail.”

“That’s a nice name. After anyone?”

“Michael’s grandmother. She raised him, it meant a lot to him.”

“What a wonderful memorial. How old is Abby?”

“She’s five weeks.”

“How long is your maternity leave?”

“Eleven weeks. Michael’s paternity leave is only eight.”

“So, he’ll be going back soon. That’s scary.”

“I guess. It’ll be different.”

“Do you want to tell me about your thoughts?”

“Want to? No. But I have to, I think.”

“Why do you have to?”

“Because they’re eating me alive and I feel like Michael just can’t understand. He tries, believe me. He’s a man at the end of the day.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well…he didn’t go through all of it, physically. I had carried her, I was so sick. The worst morning sickness, almost had to be hospitalized. But I never cared. I loved her so much from the moment I found out I was pregnant. Then I went through labor and birth, it was so hard.”

“Was it a traumatic birth?”

“No. Not any more than usual.”

“Can you elaborate on that?”

“All birth is trauma. It’s your insides being ripped apart. It’s your body changing violently against your will. It’s your child being ripped from you. It’s pain and fear and violence and too many emotions.”

“Some women find it to be beautiful. You don’t feel that way?”

“No. I don’t. There were moments during labor, at least. Michael holding me and keeping me safe. It was nice when we talked about the future. But once it reached a point when it was relentless, it wasn’t beautiful.”

“What about when you saw her for the first time?”

“I was scared.”

“Why?”

“Well, she didn’t cry at first. The doctor and nurses had to help her and she wasn’t on my chest like all the other mothers talked about. I thought something was wrong. I couldn’t move to help; I was in so much pain. But I was too scared to move.”

“That would be terrifying. But she was okay.”

“Yeah, it only lasted 20 seconds. They put her in my arms, and she was so beautiful. I loved her so much. But…” Kit couldn’t get the words out.

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

“I’ve never even told Michael this.” Her hands were shaking again.

“I’m not Michael. Everything you say to me stays with me.”

“I know. It’s a lot to say out loud.”

“I think you need to say it out loud.”

“When they put her in my arms, after a minute, I wasn’t interested in her at all. I wanted to push her off of me.” Kit couldn’t stop the sobs. Groff handed her a box of tissues.

“Katherine. It’s normal. Everything you’re feeling is normal.”

“I faked it. Every time someone came in the room, I plastered a smile on my face and pretended like I was beside myself with joy. But I was drowning and couldn’t find the words.”

“We’re going to find the words here, together.”

“I love her. I know I do. But I might hate her too.”

“Why do you think you hate her?”

“She cries and my body just gets so tense it hurts. I hold her and look at her, and half my brain thinks she is so beautiful, and the other half is annoyed at her presence. Sometimes, it’s just disinterest.”

“Katherine, what you’re feeling is just normal emotions. Do you have violent thoughts?”

“No. But…Michael was holding her once, and I thought how much better he was at this than me. How he was going to realize I’m a bad mother and leave, and I’d be relieved.”

“I see.”

“I’m crazy.”

“No one is crazy. You are exceptionally normal, I’m afraid.”

“I get it from my mother.”

“Tell me about your mother?”

“She hates me. She’s told me. She had kids because she thought she had to, not because she wanted to. Every time we talk, she tells me how disappointed in me she is. She doesn’t like my life.”

“How did your mother react when you told her you were pregnant?”

“She laughed at me, told me that I wasn’t mother material.”

“That must have hurt.”

“Yeah, but I’m used to it.”

“What do you do when your mother says these things to you?”

“I tell Michael. He counters her, talks me off the figurative ledge. Most of the time, her words just annoy me. I don’t hold much importance to them.”

“Okay. I want you to try something for me this week. When you have these thoughts that upset you, that feel bad, I want you to tell them to Michael like it’s your mother saying them. Take those thoughts and put them into your mother’s voice. Take the importance away from them, like you do with your mother. Do you think we can try that?”

“I can try.”

“You took a big step today, Katherine. It was a lot, you’re going to be tired. It’s okay. You need rest. Let yourself rest. Be kind to yourself as we figure this out. Healing is not linear; there will be good days and bad days. I want us to meet once a week for now. I’m going to keep this time for you.”

“Okay. Thank you. Thank you.” Kit wiped the tears from her face.

“I’m here if you need me. I’ll see you next week.” Groff smiled.

Kit sat in the driveway for a while. She lost track of time. Her mind felt lighter than it had in weeks, months, even. She took a deep breath before she moved to go into the house.

Michael was cooking, humming to the soft music playing, Abby strapped to his chest. He hadn’t heard her come in yet. She stood in the doorway, letting the sight sink in.

“You look good like that.” She smiled. Michael jumped, looking at her and softening as he saw how relaxed she looked, how she looked more like herself.

“Back at you.” He hummed. Kit walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around him and the baby.

“Thank you.” She kissed his shoulder.

“You don’t have to thank me for doing what’s needed.” He said as he stirred the pasta sauce.

“I know. But some men would have just let me drown. You didn’t. You took care of me, even when I didn’t make it easy.” She buried her face in his back.

“I’ll do whatever you need, Kitty. You are the love of my life. You’re my wife. You and Abby are all that matter.” He turned around and held her face in his hands.

“You’re all that matters.”  She pulled him down into a deep kiss. Abby started fussing between them.

“Valid, we were squishing you. Sorry, Babygirl.” He laughed and kissed her little head.

“After dinner, I need to tell you some things about therapy.”

“Big things?”

“Heavy, yeah.”

“Alright. Food, then feelings.” He kissed her cheek.

[neversleep5842]

Whoever You Are, Having You By My Side is Better than Not Having You At All

Inspired by this post: https://www.tumblr.com/caspertheloudassghost/706221984716062720/sooooo-in-batman-the-adventures-continue-9?source=share

And another post I can't find

We were in the middle of eating dinner, talking about cases and the new meta trafficking ring and how to dismantle it then suddenly a green portal appeared out of nowhere. Everyone were on guard, fighting stances ready.

A red headed woman came out of the portal, she was holding some sort of a futuristic sci-fi gun. Her eyes scanning the area, clearly searching for something. The moment her eyes landed on Jason it was as if the whole world came to a halt. Tears started appearing in her eyes. She dropped the gun and desperately run to Jason's direction.

The tears were falling down freely now. She hugged Jason tightly, refusing to let go as she softly muttered 'Danny' over and over...

*************************

"Mom, dad I am home" Jazz shouted

...

Weird... It's never this quiet.

"Mom dad are you here?" Jazz asks.

"We are in the basement Sweetie!" Maddie exclaims.

They probably created a new invention to capture ghosts. 'Creating new ways to hurt Danny' she tries to bury these thoughts deep inside. To ignore them.

Jazz went down the stairs. As she walked she noticed the green glowing slime covering the walls and a shiver runs down her spine. There is so much ectoplasm she thought to her self.

Jazz is frozen in place as she is looking at the broken scene of her little brother being cut open in his human form.

The smell of blood and ectoplasm that is clinging to the air is suffocating.

What are you doing? Jazz asked ,her voice cracked.

Mom Maddie looked at her and smiled. A sad uncomfortable smile.

"Jazzy sweetie... Listen your brother... He has been overshadowed by Phantom. Phantom pretended to be him. Tried to fool us by taking the form of someone we care about. Those evil ghosts are truly sickening, heartless things. Phantom used his body as a puppet... I know this is painful but don't worry we destroyed him. We had to free Danny from that vile creature."

Jazz could not believe what she had just heard. It has to be a bad dream. A terrible nightmare she has to wake up from.

"When we caught Phantom, it transform into Danny. It tried to trick us. It used Danny's body to manipulate us." Jack and Maddie tell Jazz. They desperately try to justify themselves. That it was what was needed to be done.

Jazz couldn't stand another second listening to those monsters.

She ran to the kitchen and grabbed one of their new guns.

Her eyes were wet with tears. She stood in front of the monsters who killed her brother. Her parents.

As she aimed for their heads her hands shook slightly. She looked at them in the eyes and she shot.

They fell to ground. The monsters are gone.

She ran to Danny's direction. As she held Danny's cold body, her thoughts ran wild.

No. NO. NO! There has to be a way to save him!

There has to be a way to save him. He can't die. He can't. He can't be gone. He isn't gone. He isn't.

I will save him.

*************************

As she stood in the Far Frozen there was only one thought on her mind. He is fine. He will be fine. He will get better. Her tears turned into ice. They are frozen on her cheeks. She looked at her brother's corpse through the glass. His body was strapped into some medical device for ghosts. It's fine they will help him. He will be cured. He is fine.

Suddenly one of the ghosts called her. Their expression is weird. Sad. Full of pain. The ghost yeti spoke "the Great One is... He is gone. His core is destroyed. I'm sorry..."

No No No No NO NO NO!

He can't be gone

She looked at her brother. Truly looked at him.

And she broke down.

Because she knew then what she hadn't let herself believe.

Danny is gone.

And he is never coming back.

*************************

Just one more world, Jazz thought to herself.

Failure

This one must be the one.

Failure

This one for sure.

Failure

Failure

FAILURE

FAILURE

FAILURE

FAILURE FAILURE FAILURE FAILURE FAILURE FAILURE FAILURE FAILURE FAILURE FAILURE FAILURE FAILURE

That damm word is taunting her.

Her failures still echoed in her mind.

His cold small body.

The way she was clinging onto him, so desperately. Clinging onto His cold bloody corpse.

She was too late. She failed him as a sister. She couldn't save him.

But she couldn't let go. She couldn't. She can't let go. Letting him go means she is giving up on him. And she is never going to give up on her brother. She will never turn her back on him. Not like they did.

The Infinite Realms are infinite. There has to be a world where he is alive.

There has to be.

*************************

Please work. Please.

Jazz stopped counting the amount of times she opened a portal in search for a living version of her brother sometime after her one thousand try. She didn't see the point. Knowing the number of times she failed her brother will not change the fact that she failed him.

He is not here. She failed him so many times.

She just has to keep up on trying.

She Tried not to think about how many times she has failed.

It was easier to keep going that way. To not think of her failures and just keep going. Keep searching. Keep holding on. Keep trying. Keep hoping. Keep hoping for something.

The first time she opened a portal to find a different version of her little brother, she was greeted with the gloomy and nousuating atmosphere of a graveyard. In front of her were four gravestones. That version of her is dead. She looked at the gravestones. Her face darkened. That world's Danny haven't even made it to his tenth birthday.

She kept trying.

She was just seeing gravestones after gravestones. Graveyard after graveyard.

After so many tries. So many failed attempts. She was growing sick of seeing gravestones. She couldn't stand to see another one.

In her 958 try she finally saw something else. No.

What she saw was so much worse.

She watched. Frozen in place. Too shocked to move. As her brother, her very much alive brother was being cut into, experimented and tortured by GIW agents.

She looked at her brother eyes. And something inside her just broke. He looked so small. So hurt. So tired like he wanted to just end the pain. Just end it all.

Anger was coming down in waves. His sad gaze drove her crazy. She couldn't take it anymore.

She killed every single agent there.

She freed her brother from his shackles. Took his muzzle and thrown it away. They muzzled her brother. She was fuming. Her entire body was shaking from sheer rage and fury.

That Danny was too injured to survive. His core was cracked. He was bleeding and bleeding and bleeding. The bleeding never stopped.

He died in her arms.

She was too late.

She failed.

She failed him again.

If she was faster. If she came a little bit sooner she could have saved him.

She will keep trying. She refuses to give up on him.

She will save him.

She will see him again.

*************************

Please. Please work. I just want to see you again. Please.

Just one more try.

Jazz took a piece of Danny's hair and put it the portal gun. She typed 'FIND'.

A portal opened. Jazz looked at the portal. Her eyes begging for it to work.

Please work.

Jazz took a small step into the portal.

Infront of her wasn't a graveyard, a warzone, a lab or a government facility.

No.

In front of her was a family having dinner.

She searched and looked for any sign of Danny.

None of the people were familiar. She couldn't recognise any of them. Except for one.

Her brother.

Her little brother.

He was alive.

He was healthy.

He was here.

She forgot all reason.

She dropped the portal gun. And ran.

She ran like she never ran in her life. And yet she ran to his side like a little kid. She smiled. Her first true smile in years.

She ran desperately. Because she was desperate.

She is just so happy to see him. To be with him.

Tears appeared in her eyes. She hated that they came so easily, but they didn't fall. Not yet.

She hugged him. She hugged so tightly. She didn't let go.

He was here.

The tears were falling down freely now but she couldn't care less. Because her brother was here.

They are together.

She didn't care if his name wasn't Danny.

He still was her brother. Danny no matter the universe. No matter the name or age. He was her brother.

And she will never let him go.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally getting help (prt 4)

Masterpost

The bats worked through the night, coordinating and researching everything that needed to be done. Distortion showed up on the camera which they assumed was Vlad trying to get in but he didn’t manage it. After he finished trying from multiple angels including somehow from directly above (well Zatana did say invisibility, intangibility, and flight were the minimal powers they should expect from creatures of the infinite realms.) He turned human again and spent a long time banging on their front door.

He tried to call the cops but commissioner Gordon called Bruce directly to get the full story then told Vlad it could be dealt with in the morning. Zatana was also coordinating people heading to Amity, a full on raid of the GIW, and the Fentons.

Batman and Superman were collecting all the information that the raid team was sending out and workshopping public statements they could sent out to the public and the government about the unacceptable things they had found and the steps the JL was taking to fix it. The government was not going to be happy they knew, with the JL ‘over-stepping’ into their business and actually getting the word out about the atrocities a branch of their government and their pet scientists had been planning. The JL needed to get out ahead of it before the narrative could be twisted against them.

It was first thing in the morning when they did a live broadcast from the watchtower with Batman, Superman, and Zatana telling the world about the parallel world existing harmlessly along side their own, and the way the government tried to exploit it. The atrocities committed under the name of the Anti-Ecto acts with the ignorance of the public as a cover.

It was at the same time that Constantine, Dick, and Cas were raiding the Fenton’s home. Of course they were armed, but so were the bats, and they were used to fighting people who were armed. It wasn’t a particularly hard fight.

A redhead was sitting wide eyed at the kitchen table. “Can’t we just have one normal day!” She suddenly snapped but she was glaring at her parents, standing up and slamming her hands on the table.  “First you send Danny away with Vlad even though you KNOW they hate each other and it’s a school day and now this! What did you do to bring the heroes down on us!?”

“I don’t know Jazzybear!” Jack half whined as he was forced into power supressing cuffs to neutralize his minor super strength and sat down in the living room.

“I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding, don’t worry sweetie,” Maddie added, both of them were dressed in jump suits which did not help their supervillain vibes.

“it’s not a mistake mate, you’ve been messing with shit you really shouldn’t. And that portal in your basement is a fucking beacon welcoming a war. You’ve gone unchecked for too god damn long, we’re taking over things now.” Constantine told them before stalking down into the basement with Tim on his heels, Batman would be joining them as soon as they were done their press conference.

Cas stayed to watch the parents and Dick approached Jazz gently. “Hey can I talk to you in private please? It’s about your brother,” He said gently and she stiffened immediately. Looking at him in a way that made him feel like she could see straight into his soul and froze him to the spot. After a moment though she just sighed and nodded, beckoning to him to follow her upstairs, to a room that was probably Danny’s not her own. She sat on his bed and grabbed a bear that had been sitting on the edge, waving for him to sit at the desk.

“So, what do you know?” She asked with a sigh.

“Well, last night Vlad took Danny to a Wayne Gala, one of Bruce’s daughter Cas is really good with body language and clocked that something was wrong so she and one of the other kids got him away from Vlad and out of the party. I guess he really needed some adult support because he broke down and told them a lot, about the Phantom thing, the ghosts and… something you’re not going to like. But first I want you to know he’s safe, Bruce Wayne is a licensed foster parent and he’s taking good care of Danny, you can come live with them too if you want.

“We’re going to deal with the ghosts and the GIW and everything else now, I can’t promise by the end of this you won’t need somewhere else to go. I have a feeling if Batman and the Martian family have anything to say about this your parents will end up in prison for their unethical experiments.”

“As long as Danny is okay,” Jazz said firmly. “I was only staying to take care of him anyway, just get me emancipated and a scholarship for Gotham U so I can study while still being close to him I’ll be fine. I’m almost 18 as it is.”

Dick nodded, she was a smart and driven girl, she knew what she wanted, he could respect that. “Now, the thing you won’t like…” he trailed off and took a deep breath. “Danny is pregnant.”

“What!?“ Jazz blanched, gaping at him for a long minute. “That can’t be right! I mean I knew he was trans but he’s usually only interested in girls, how would he even-“ She cut off her eyes widening. “It was Vlad wasn’t it?” She gritted out with an expression the promised excruciating violence.

“Yes,” Dick said shifting awkwardly in his chair.

“Right.” Jazz said and got up, coldly calm. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.” She grabbed a baseball bat from next to Danny’s bed that seemed to be glowing slightly then marched to the other side of the room, opened a cabinet and pulled out two odd looking guns. Before Dick could say much of anything she had vaulted out of the window and taking off down the street.

“Oh dear,” Dick muttered faintly before heading back downstairs. “Hey Cas can we turn on the news, some sort of local station?” He asked. Cas nodded and searched around for the remote, turning it on to find the channel was already on local news.

Vlad was already on there, talking about how it was awful Bruce Wayne had Kidnapped a local child Danial Fenton, and he could not be allowed to get away with this just because he was rich! But that didn’t last long, they watched for a few minutes before a blur of red hair and blue rushed past the camera.

“YOU TOUCHED MY BROTHER YOU CREEP!” Jazz said as she came out swinging and she must have quite the arm because her first swing sent him nearly flying off the stage. He scrambled to get up as she lunged at him again.

“Now Jasmine you’ve clearly been misinformed, I didn’t do anything-“ His muffled voice was cut off as she swung the bat again and he yelped as she hit him in the stomach.

“YOU GOT HIM PREGNANT! YOU DID THIS! YOU SHOULD BEHIND BARS NOT BEHIND A PODIUM YOU FROOTLOOP!” She shrieked as she swung again and this time he managed to dodge. The cameras following them as Jazz chased him down the street, the sound of his supplications and her shrieking fading out as they became more and more distant.

It took a frantic moment for the camera angle to switch to something else, maybe a drone, which was able to follow them down the street.

“You Don’t UNDERSTAND! I didn’t want to hurt him! I just wanted a perfect son! If he had just agreed to be my son none of this would have happened! When I knew it failed I told him to let them die!” Vlad yelled at her, though that did NOT seem to comfort Jazz at all. She had devolved into shrieking book titles like curses as she chased him with the bat and shot at him with the guns though her aim didn’t seem very good.

Well they had him admitting to it on camera now. As he watched a new actor joined the fray, a girl in a red jumpsuit holding a blaster.

“You did what to Danny!?” She demanded as she pointed the blaster at Vlad.

“Oh cheespuffs!” Vlad breathed, his eyes widening as Jazz trailed off letting who must be Red Huntress take over the chase as Vlad shouted about how he had made her! He had given her her weapons she couldn’t use them against him! Which did not seem to be stopping her.

The camera fuzzed out for just a second and then Valery was chasing a ghost with red eyes and a white outfit. Cas was laughing silently at the show and both of the Fenton parents seemed to be in shock. A few minutes later Jazz walked back in through the front door looking tired.

“Turn that off please,” she sighed as she put the bat down.

“Of course,” Cas agreed and picked up the remote again, turning off the tv. 

“Vlad didn’t actually do that, did he Jazzy?” Jack asked softly, he sounded so hurt, as if he had any fucking right!

Jazz looked at him blankly. “How many times have we tried to warn you about him? How many times has Danny told you he didn’t feel safe with Vlad? But as usual you couldn’t see past your own desires. I’m going to go see if the trenchcoat guy needs any help getting into your files,” She sighed before vanishing downstairs. 

Dick glanced at Cas, and then followed them, she would have no trouble watching the Fentons and staying quiet whereas Dick felt like he was about to explode. Batman joined them before long and between the three of them they shut the bulkheads on the portal and locked them, secured dangerous chemicals and devices, and downloaded everything they could. There were plenty of prototypes and blueprints, and stuff that could generously be called research.

It was obvious these people were geniuses but it was even more obvious that at some point they had become careless and obsessive. Half of the writing on the blueprints wasn’t legible, dangerous chemicals were not in proper containment, and the weapons were not locked up. Looking at all of this it wasn’t surprising that two of the people they had been involving in their research suffered exposure, it was a surprise more hadn’t. It was easy to tell when Bruce came down he was horrified, it was in the way he froze when he saw the lab, as if his brain was struggling to process just how irresponsible the Fenton parents had been.

“You must be Jazz, it’s nice to meet you. Danny speaks highly of you,” He finally rebooted to say when she waved at him. 

“I love my little brother, I always did the best I could to keep him safe from… all this,” Jazz said gesturing at the lab with a sigh. “I wish it had done any good.”

“You did plenty of good,” Dick put in. “Trust me, to a kid having someone care about them can make all the difference. 

“All those nights I patched him up after he came back from fighting ghosts. He healed fast but still. I can’t believe… he’s already been through so much and we knew Vlad was up to something! Ellie said she was our cousin but she looked just like him, I should have kept a closer eye on-” She cut off and shook her head. “He’s a good kid, of course if he couldn’t give the babies up, even if it would be better for them if he did. I hope he knows I’d support him either way, I hope he didn’t not tell me because he thought I’d be upset at Him.”

“I’m sure he didn’t,” Dick assured her gently. “Being a big sibling is hard, I know. But trust me you’re doing a great job, better than I did with my brothers,” he said, patting her shoulder. “You can ask him yourself later though. We have a lot to get done today to make sure he’s safe.”

She nodded stubbornly and doubled down on her work, directing them occasionally to where she knew they’d find more weapons or logs. She knew her way around the lab to a disturbing extent. 

Bruce and Dick both got a notification from Agent A saying that after a substantial sleep in Danny had woken up and was having breakfast. He seemed worried about the family but he was taking it alright, especially since he knew they were busy people. It did motivate Dick to clear things up as soon as they could so that they could get back to Danny though. The last thing he needed was More stress!

They had plenty of evidence of the Fenton parents breaking the law to call the police and have them taken away which gave them all the time they needed to strip the house. They got everything they could and decided to leave Constantine at the house to watch the portal until they could figure out how to shut it down completely without causing any damage. It seemed unstable so they didn’t want to risk it just now, especially without Danny’s input because according to Jazz Danny had made genuine connections in the Infinite Realms. 

They wrapped up this stage of the investigation before dinner after being up for about 36 hours. Of course they weren’t Done, there was still plenty to do investigating the government, how they’d gotten away with this and if they had any other nasty tricks up their sleeve. They’d have to manage any backlash from this unilateral move, and they’d have to figure out what to tell the public about Danny since Bruce would be fostering him. But all that could be done after having a family dinner with their new brother and a nap. 

part 5

@blacksea21090 @zline @sebas-nights @littlefeather345 @isnt-that-grape @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @shadowkatt99 @fantasticstoryteller @sithlordchimchnga @fanfictionforme2 @iamalittlefangirl25 @bushbees @yotsubaayase @genius11rare @thomasdimensor @ultimatebluff @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @vivavelle @phoenixdemonqueen @jaggedheart11 @amyheart19 @ashenfairytale @thedragonqueen1998 @quotesandanime @j-joshi @unknown707 @baby-glowstick @okami-love @felicityroth @blackroserelina @wanderwithwings @shephardking @stargirl1331 @supermcraig @tkiesai @thegatorsgoose @mushroomymoss @llavalada @drownthesun @theraccoonempire @ark12 @telidina @dasha022

Please subscribe to the masterpost everyone! the tag list is getting a bit to big for me to manage ^^;

[schrijverr]

The Permanence of Saying It Out Loud

Buck and Eddie are already married, but Eddie is overseas on tour while Buck raises Chris the best he can alongside his new job at the 118. He doesn’t want the pity, so he doesn’t mention his life outside the firehouse to his colleagues. However, bit by bit, they learn more about their youngest member and his family.

On AO3.

Ships: Buck x Eddie

Warnings: implied homophobia and bad parenting (not Buck and Eddie, but their parents), injuries, military, minor call to a school.

~~~

Being a single parent isn’t the easiest, especially when you combine it with a partner being stationed over sea and at war, scared that you can lose them every day and doing everything alone suddenly becomes permanent.

Some days, those thoughts nearly crush Buck. The fear that Eddie won’t come home, that it will be just him and Chris for the rest of time. That they’ll only have a flag and some pictures, never a new memory.

And he knows how everyone reacts to him sharing that his partner is over sea, that they have a kid together and it’s just him for the time being. He can’t stand their looks, those pitying eyes. He hates that he can hear them think all sorts of things; how sad he must be, how shit it is of Eddie to leave, how he’s been practically abandoned, a widower in the making.

Buck hates those looks. He isn’t being abandoned. Eddie will come back and he doesn’t need anyone implanting any ideas into his head.

Besides, Eddie has done this for Chris, he’d never just leave. When Shannon left, Buck had been injured unable to work and another tour was the only way to keep them from drowning in debt. It is different now. Buck has a good job with heath insurance. When – yes, when not if – Eddie comes back, he never has to leave again. They just need to get through this.

Sure, Buck is sad. Fuck. He misses Eddie every single day. But he’s getting through this, they’re all getting through this, no matter what other people think.

However, he doesn’t need every person he meets to fuel his darkest fears and all his insecurities. It is ridiculous to be insecure about Eddie leaving when the man married him and let him adopt his son, but some things are deeply rooted. So, for his own sake, he doesn’t mention his family.

And it’s not as if people ever suspect. Who would? Buck is 26 and a happy go lucky person by nature, why would anyone think he’s been married for years and has a kid that would’ve made him a teen dad had he been a part of the conception.

The academy isn’t a place he made a lot of friends, preferring to get through it as quickly as possible to create a reliable stream of income to get Chris into a good school.

Now he has been assigned the 118 and he’s nervous as hell. It’s the first actually long term job he’s had since he left the army and he wonders what it’ll be like to work in a team. If they’ll like him or if the work environment will be strictly professional. If they’ll ask questions about his personal life or just let him be.

As it turns out, it is the former for both those musings. They welcome him into their fold easily and Buck quickly learns that these people care. They care so much. The firehouse is a family and Buck is getting adopted into it whether he wants to or not.

He wants to keep up the distance as he always does, but it’s a little hard to maintain that, because he likes that people care about him. Likes that they check in with him, that they invite him to come to drinks with them, that they joke around with him.

Buck declines practically all invitations, though he tries to be at a few of the scheduled gatherings by coordinating with Abuela and Pepa to watch Chris while he’s there. Because he wants that friendship with his coworkers. He enjoys being around them.

With them he can be the baby of the group, the reckless rookie, who is a little irresponsible. He runs in head first without a plan, letting the others be the reliable mature adults. It’s nice to let others worry and be responsible for everything for a bit. He likes having that for himself.

Which means he doesn’t really want to tell them, because it’ll come with those looks and a whole lot of questions. And then they’ll have opinions about how he behaves, expectations of what he should do instead, maybe even comments on his parenting or the lack of co-parent. He doesn’t want that, he likes what he has now. He doesn’t want to risk it.

So, he keeps quiet, laughs that it’s a long story why his nickname is Buck, even though his name is Evan Diaz and lets them speculate on a wild social life that he doesn’t have outside of work that makes it that he declines so much.

It’s not perfect exactly, but it works.

Being with the team allows him to forget that he’s supposed to worry about Eddie, lets him be in a place without constant reminders of the husband, who is danger every single day. Eddie thinks the same of him of course, but war isn’t the same as car crashes, fires, or getting people unstuck from traps of their own making.

Just having his mind off of everything, getting to focus on the problems of others instead of his own, helps him recharge so he can be the best dad for Christopher. He selfishly allows himself to have that.

When he tells Eddie about it on their weekly phone call, wracked by guilt about lying, about hiding them, Eddie says: “Cariño, you don’t need to feel guilty. I know you’re not ashamed of us. You’re doing all you can.”

“I know,” Buck replies, not knowing why he still feels so bad about it. “I just- What if I’m not enough? Fuck, Eds, I need to forget about everything for a few hours to function. What does that say about me?”

“That you’re human, mi amor,” Eddie tells him gently. “You’re doing more than enough. You’re there for him. You’re not running. That’s more than me and Shannon can say.”

“Babe,” Buck sighs. They’ve had the argument often enough. He hates Eddie talking about himself like that and Eddie knows it. Even if right now it does cheer him up a little.

“I know, I know,” Eddie smiles gently. “I’m not running now, it was the best option. All I’m saying is that I also did pretty extreme things to stay sane, not mentioning you’re married isn’t the end of the world.”

“Thank you,” Buck returns the smile, before they move onto other topics.

Meanwhile the rest of the team observes Buck. Despite being very chatty and friendly, they slowly realize that they barely know the man outside of work. He’ll pull out a random fun fact at least once every shift, but he never mentions what he does himself off the clock.

They try to get him to open up, asking about what he did in the weekend or what his evening plans are when he declines.

He always has a vague excuse of being busy or catching up on sleep ready. Chim thinks he has a lot of one night stands that he’s embarrassed about, Hen has money on stripper side job, while Bobby tells them it’s unprofessional, then bets on trying to keep up a former frat house life.

Buck is aware that the others are curious, but none of them have straight out asked, so he never says. He wonders if he will when someone does, or if he’ll lie. He’s a bad liar straight on, a better one when it’s by omission. Do these people know him well enough to spot it if he lies or will he spin something – probably idiotic – that will become his life for however long it lasts before that implodes?

None of them ever get to find out, because the first hole in Buck’s lie by omission is poked by the alarms going off. Buck’s heart sinks when Bobby announces there’s been an accident at a school, but no just any school, Christopher’s school.

Never before has anyone gotten into that engine as fast as Buck does in that moment, pulling out his phone with shaking hands as he sends Chris a text. No answer.

The others all notice Buck’s nerves, the way his leg jiggles the whole way there, how he ignores or doesn’t seem to process their worried looks. All have noticed how he is with kids on calls, most assume he just hates knowing kids are in danger.

As it turns out, it wasn’t as serious as suspected. A class had been cooking as a fun way to learn about nourishment when an oven had malfunctioned. There was a fire, but it was small and the 136 already has it under control by the time they arrive.

Still, the school has evacuated and the 118 is there as back up in case it gets out of hand and to check over the kids.

The second their boots touch ground, Buck takes off. He often runs off on his own, but this isn’t that kind of call and the others watch in confusion as he starts going through the kids, calling out: “Chris. Chris! Christopher!”

Buck meanwhile is nearing cardiac arrest. Chris had been excited about cooking in class recently and his mind conjures all sort of fear visions where he’d been hurt and left behind, seen as a liability in the evacuation, or forgotten and immobilized somewhere. He’d heard enough horror stories of disabled people not being taken into account in evacuation plans to worry himself into an early grave.

Then, breaking through the crowd is his angel, walking towards him on his crutches as he happily calls out: “Papa! Are you here to save the day?”

Relieved Buck gathers Chris into his arms, hoisting him up to give his a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, Superman, I’m here to save the day. Why didn’t you answer my texts?”

“We’re supposed to leave our bags behind when we evacuate,” Chris answers.

It’s such a simple thing and kind of understandable. If you have to wait for a couple of hundred kids to pack their bags before leaving, you’re never getting out of there before the building burns down, still it gave him a lot of gray hairs.

He cradles Chris’s head against his shoulder and breathes his scent in deeply. “Next time carry your phone in your pocket, okay buddy?”

“Okay,” Chris agrees easily.

In the background the 118 watches in shock as their youngest member finds what appears to be his son in the crowd. It’s completely unexpected to see Buck like this. There’s not an irresponsible bone in his body to be found right now, just 100% parental concern.

As the father and son connect, Bobby talks with one of the teachers there, who tells them where the kids closest to the fire are. He sends Chimney and Hen towards them, going to collect Buck for himself.

Buck is just hugging Chris now, assuring himself that he’s okay after the scare he just had when he hears Bobby come up behind him. He turns towards his Captain and sheepishly says: “Hi, Cap. This is Chris, well, Christopher. Chris, this is my Captain, Bobby. Remember I told you about him?”

“It’s nice to meet you, young man,” Bobby replies, holding out his hand.

With practiced ease, Buck moves to hold one of Chris’s crutches so he can shake Bobby’s hand as he sends the man a happy smile. “It is nice to meet you too.”

“I need to borrow your-” he sends a questioning look to Buck as he cautiously adds, “dad,” when Buck says nothing to correct him he continues on, “to come help check the other kids. Want to join us to see your dad work?”

“Yes!” Chris cheers and Buck sends Bobby a thankful look. The idea of being separated from Chris right now seems unbearable.

The three of them make their way to Chim and Hen. Buck puts Chris down in the grass near them and goes to check over kids alongside Bobby, shooting looks at Chris every so often, ignoring how Chim and Hen to the same to him, though theirs are more confused than concerned.

None of the kids are hurt beyond band aid work, which is a relief. Buck hates seeing kids get hurt, especially when they’re close to Chris.

When they’re nearly done, one of the teachers approaches them. She knows Buck from pick up, so she says: “We’ve been calling parents to come get their kids. We’re sending everyone home early today. If you want you can get Christopher’s stuff and sign him out now, save yourself the trip.”

“I’ll need to check it over with my Captain. Maybe Pepa will come get him instead,” Buck replies, internally cursing. Abuela hasn’t driven in years and Pepa is working today. He might get some time to drop him off at Abuela’s house, but he really shouldn’t impose so much. She already had Chris for two days this week when he had a 48 hour shift.

The others are finishing up now, which means they’ll have the time to descend on him with questions.

Wanting to delay his execution, he goes to Bobby first, lowly saying: “Chris’s teacher says I can sign him out now, since they’re all being send home for the day. I need some time to figure out a babysitting arrangement with Abuela or tía Pepa. I’m so sorry.”

“Buck,” Bobby places a hand on his shoulder. “There is no need to apologize for this. Chris can ride with us to the firehouse and we’ll watch out for him until you have this sorted.”

“Thank you so much,” Buck says sincerely. He is so very grateful Bobby is taking this in stride and giving him space to organize himself.

Then Buck flees, yes, flees. He is man enough to admit that he quickly leaves with Chris to go get his stuff and sign him out, before Chimney and Hen can get there.

The two are just in time to watch him walk away. Hen asks Bobby: “What did he ask?”

“We’re going to have a visitor at the house today until he can get a babysitter,” Bobby answers.

“More interesting question, where did he get the kid?” Chimney interjects.

“Chim, you must know how babies are made.”

“Oh shove, Hen, you know what I mean,” Chimney rolls his eyes. “Nothing out of him for months and suddenly he pulls out a kid. Aren’t you curious?”

“I mean, it does explain why he always cancels,” Hen says. “God knows that organizing everything with Denny can be rough sometimes.”

Now, Bobby likes to think himself above these things, but he totally isn’t. So he adds: “He mentioned seeing if his grandma or aunt could watch over him.”

“Just them, no other partner?” Hen asks, before whistling: “I can’t imagine doing that alone.”

“Sorry, I think my brain just broke a little trying to imagine how anyone left probie Buck in charge of a small child by himself,” Chim comments.

“Alright guys, that’s enough,” Bobby says, spotting Buck coming out of the school with Chris. “Let’s go. The 136 can handle it from here.”

Buck has already buckled in Chris when they get to the engine and is putting away the rest of his gear. He stiffens slightly when they arrive, which softens Hen a little, so she hits him with an easy one first. “So, how old is he?”

“He’s seven,” Buck smiles, unable to help the expression when talking about Christopher.

“Jeez, that’s quite old already,” Chim whistles.

“Yeah, you must have been like eighteen when he was conceived,” Hen does the math quickly.

“Damn,” Chim adds.

“What?” His eyes widen slightly in surprise, then he throws them another curve ball. “Oh. No. Chris isn’t mine.”

“Not yours?” Hen asks, following Buck to the engine so they can get in.

“Long story,” is all Buck replies.

“Where are his parents?” Hen continues to prod, curious how Buck ended up in this situation. She knows how she did and it’s not often she meets people like her, so she can’t help but poke her nose in, despite knowing how annoying it can get.

Unfortunately, her question isn’t heard by just Buck and it’s Chris who answers: “Mommy left us and daddy’s gone now.”

A painful and awkward silence falls over the people gathered in the engine. No one quite knows what to do with that revelation and the casual tone in which Christopher says it, as if being abandoned by both parents is a normal thing.

Buck break the silence with a strained laugh, giving Chris a side hug as he says: “Yeah, uhm, it’s just us two for now. But we make a great team, right, Superman?”

“Yeah!” Chris cheers, evaporating the last of the tension.

They amuse him with stories about being a firefighter, especially Buck’s antics, on the ride back much to Chris’s delight. Buck watches him fondly, a stark difference to his usual slightly mischievous grin. He suddenly doesn’t look like the team baby anymore, but like the adult he actually is.

At the station, Buck gives Chris a tour, the others butting in to add their own tidbits and fun facts here and there. They’re all still dying of curiosity, but after the reveal in the engine, they don’t feel like prodding when the kid is near.

When that is done, Buck stations Chris on one of the couches with the controller to play video games, saying: “This counts as your after school screen time, alright, kid. No arguing tonight and I’ll make pancakes for breakfast tomorrow, deal?”

“Deal,” Chris agrees seriously after a few seconds of deliberation.

“Good,” Buck grins, ruffling Chris’s hair, before he goes downstairs to have some privacy as he makes some phone calls.

When Buck returns, Chimney and Chris are racing as Hen cheers Chris on, shittalking Chimney with a big grin. He plops down next to Chris and cheers him on as well, the rest of them laughing at Chimney when he looses spectacularly.

Once the round is over, he says: “Tía Pepa is gonna use her lunch break to bring you to Abuela, I’ll pick you up there when I’m done with work, okay. She’ll be here in thirty minutes.”

“I don’t wanna go with tía Pepa,” Chris pouts, crossing his arms. “I wanna stay here at work with you.”

“You know I can’t do that, buddy.”

“Why not? Please, papa, I’ll be so well behaved.”

“I know you will, Chris, but it’s dangerous. We might get called away to scary places where I have to help. It’ll be chaos and I can’t watch out properly for you there. I made a promise to keep you safe, remember? You wanna tell daddy you made me break my pinky swear?”

Silently, the 118 lets out a relieved breath at Buck mentioning Chris’s father. With the way the kid said gone, they feared he might have meant death. But this sounds like maybe Buck isn’t entirely alone, even if the comment clears up nothing as to how Buck got to be in charge of the kid.

Meanwhile Chris’s pout persists, even when he slumps slightly in defeat. He huffs: “I just wanna be a firefighter like you, papa.”

Everyone can see how Buck melts at that, hugging Chris close to his side. “Thanks, little man. I’m sure you’ll be a kick ass firefighter. And we also have enough time to go down the pole before tía Pepa gets here, what do you say?”

“Can I really?” Chris asks with big excited eyes.

“Of course, Superman, let’s go!” Buck matches his enthusiasm, roping the whole team into helping Chris go down the pole. Twice.

They’re interrupted by Pepa arriving. When Buck spots her, he says: “Alright, tía Pepa is here. Be good her and Abuela, okay? Remember, I’ll pick you up the second I’m done here and we can have a night together, yeah?”

“Okay,” Chris says moodily, moving to gather his stuff upon Buck’s further instructions.

As Chris does that, Pepa says: “Evantino, you can’t keep doing this. Mamá is getting old. She’ll hurt herself one day if you keep letting her raise him while you work.”

“I know, tía, I know. I’m working on it. We’re still settling, you know how the paperwork gets, it’s one big bureaucratic maze,” Buck replies softly, not wanting Chris to overhear them arguing, especially when it’s about him. “It’s enough of a headache to figure everything out with Eddie’s insurance. It hasn’t been the priority.”

“Make it a priority, before it ends in a hospital,” Pepa tells him sternly.

Buck sighs, turning into himself. However, he manages to plaster on a happy look to say goodbye to his kid, waving him out the door with many promises of a fun night and pancakes for breakfast. The mask only slips off when the two are out of sight.

Hen comes up next to him, a comforting hand on his arm. “That looked rough. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Buck tells her tiredly, looking much older than he is. “It’s just a lot to keep track off.” Weakly he jokes: “I use all my common sense points on figuring out the paperwork that I don’t have any left here at work.”

“Paperwork can do that to a man,” Chimney jokes back, trying to give him that much at least. It’s a success, because Buck gives him a small smile.

Getting them back to more serious and relevant topics, Hen asks: “Why are you doing it all alone? Where are his parents?”

Buck takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “His mom left a few years ago. She wasn’t ready to be his mom. Or a mom in general. When she and Chris’s dad got divorced I thought an extra set of hands would be enough to keep her in Chris’s life, but when her mom got sick, she left and didn’t look back. She lives here, actually. I wanted see if she felt up to being a parent now, since Eddie, Chris’s dad, is off in Afghanistan, but it’s a no still. Eddie’s a soldier, by the way. Army medic.”

That explains why Buck is doing this alone, Hen thinks. He has too big a heart, stepping in to help his girlfriend, then sticking it out even when she leaves. She respects him for it, even if it’s a huge commitment to make at his age.

Chimney claps Buck awkwardly, saying: “That’s rough, buddy.”

“Really?” Buck asks incredulously. “Avatar?”

“What, it’s a classic,” Chim defends himself. “I’m surprised you know it with how media illiterate you are.”

Buck shrugs: “Chris likes it.”

Before the bickering can derail further, Bobby joins them. “Well, you’re not entirely alone now, Buck. You have us. I’m sure you had your reasons for not saying it earlier, so I’m not going to pry, but if you need something to take of Chris, all you need to do is say so.”

“Thank you so much, Cap,” Buck says, hugging the Captain tightly, before letting go, wiping his tears. Hen gets it, the relief of knowing someone is at your side, she still remembers that feeling from when Karen agreed to raise Denny with her.

She also steps closer to Buck and offers: “I’ve been in the field a long time, I know a lot of health care professionals, nurses, caregivers. If you want, I could introduce you to someone to make the bureaucratic nightmare that is the US healthcare system a little easier to navigate.”

“That- that would mean a lot,” Buck says, hugging her too. “Thank you.”

Chimney cheerfully offers: “I can be a fun guy feeding your kid fast food and being a minor bad influence when he stops by again. Got nothing else I’m afraid.”

Buck grins and he slings an arm around Chimney. “That’s also appreciated, man. Thanks.”

After that, it’s a little different. Not in the way Buck feared, though. Now that they know that this job is the non-stressful part of his life, they can steer him straight more easily and having them know about Chris makes it easier to organize everything, even allowing him to hang out with the others, become closer.

Chris talks about his daddy who is being a hero far away from time to time and people give him the look that Buck dreads sometime, however, they don’t seem to have realized that Chris isn’t the only one waiting for Eddie to come home to his family. Buck is strangely grateful for it.

The others don’t ask him how he’s dealing with it all, but how Chris is, allowing him to talk about it all through a proxy. It’s strangely nice. Having this family is strangely nice.

Naturally that means it can’t last.

This whole having a nice family and dealing with it without having to share gets blown to pieces when Buck gets a phone call while at work. They’re all hanging around by the kitchen while Bobby cooks when his phone rings. He picks up without really looking who it is: “Hi, this is Buck.”

“Hello, is this Evan Diaz?” the voice greets.

Fear grips his heart and he walks away from the group to get some privacy as he says: “Yes, this is he. How can I help you, did something happen?”

The others look in confusion as Buck walks away after picking up the phone, his voice seeming off somehow. They keep watching as he listen, then suddenly he stumbles, sobs and goes down to his knees. In a broken voice they hear him ask: “Oh, god, is he alive? Please, tell me he’s alive.”

Worry immediately takes over all of them and they rush to their youngest member, who is barely holding it together. They watch as he crumbles in relief. “Oh thank fuck. Where is he? Can I see him?”

Whoever is on the other side of the line must reply, because Buck is nodding: “Yes, yes, of course, thank you. I’ll- I’ll be there when I can.”

He hangs up with trembling hands, another sob ripping from his throat. Hen shares a worried look with Bobby and Chimney, gathering Buck into a hug. He clutches her arm tightly and she rocks him back and forth for a moment, before asking: “What happened, Buck? What’s wrong?”

“My- my husband,” Buck gasps. “He- he got shot down. Fuck, he’s in a- a coma. In a hospital in fucking Ger- Germany somewhere.”

That is one hell of a revelation and all three 118 members present freeze for a second, sharing another look. This one is more disbelieving, as if to ask: ‘Did you hear that too? Or am I going crazy?’

However, this isn’t really the moment to ask for clarification, because Buck is still sobbing: “Oh god, he might- he might die. All this time I didn’t want people to- to pity me, because he was gonna come back. He is supposed to come back. Doing it a- alone is not- it’s not meant to be permanent. I- I can’t do it alone.”

“Okay, Buck, just breathe, okay, breathe with me,” Bobby starts encouraging him to follow Bobby’s breaths, knowing Buck needs to calm down before he can think rationally about this.

Chimney flies to get him a glass of water, while Buck tries to do as Bobby instructs. Hen just keeps rubbing his back, hoping the touch is as soothing as intended.

After a while Buck has his breathing under control and the tears have slowed down. Once he is deemed okay enough, Bobby carefully asks: “Want to tell us what happened?”

Buck nods, then sniffles: “Eddie, he- he rescued a convoy. The chopper went down, he pulled everyone out. He got- oh god, he got shot.”

The tears start up again and Buck struggles to get himself under control for a few seconds, before he can go on. “They’re gonna move him to Washington and I know that moving him means he’s doing well, like I know that, logically. But… fuck. He’s in a coma. So many things can go wrong. Chris can’t lose his father like this, I can’t lose him like this.”

“You don’t move a patient that far unless you’re confident in their ability to make it safely into transit,” Hen tells him gently. “First you stabilize, remember? Eddie is going to be fine. You’re going to see your husband again.”

“You really think so?” Buck asks with big insecure eyes that are still wet from the tears.

Hen’s heart breaks a little at the sight and she puts as much conviction into her voice as she can when she answers: “Yes, I do.”

“Thank you,” Buck says, tears spilling again. “I’m so sorry for never saying anything. About him, you know.”

“It’s alright, Buck. It’s your life to share,” Bobby tells him. “I hope we didn’t make you uncomfortable or scared to share.”

“No, not that,” Buck assures him immediately. “It’s just easier, you know. To keep it to myself. People just always give you those looks. Those stupid looks. As if- as if you’re already a widower and I- I-” He takes a shuddering breath, forcing away the new onslaught of tears. “I just wanted to have one place where people didn’t. Where this couldn’t happen.”

Buck loses the fight to the tears and he gasps: “God, how am I going to tell Chris that his daddy got hurt? What am I going to do if Eddie doesn’t wake up?”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Buck, it’s okay,” Bobby starts comforting him immediately. “You have us, just tell us what you need and we’re here.”

Again Buck works to calm himself down, getting out of his anxiety spiral slowly. None of the others have ever seen him like this and they wonder just how much of outlet this job has been for him.

“I- I need to call Abuela and tía Pepa and Carla,” Buck lists. “Fuck, should I- should I call his parents?”

The fact that he asks that gives them a little insight into how they might feel about their son’s marriage to Buck. He answers his own question, before any of them can figure out how to, “No, no, I shouldn’t. They’ll- they’ll try to take him. I need to get to Chris. I need to get to my boy.”

“Okay, you’re off shift for today and however long you need,” Bobby says immediately. “Go get your son.”

“You’re in no state to drive, I can take you,” Chimney offers. “If that’s okay, Cap?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Come on, man,” Chim says, clapping Buck on the back before pulling him to his feet.

Chimney drives as fast as is allowed, in the seat next to him Buck is having a tearful conversation with Abuela, explaining what has happened to her grandson. Chim mentally files away that the family they’ve met so far is the husband’s not Buck’s, vaguely wondering why he has never mentioned anyone from his own side of the family.

They first stop by a modest house where he follows Buck inside as he watches the kid efficiently pack a suitcase. It’s strange to see him like this, not just down instead of his usually happy self, but grown up. They all gathered that he acted a little child-like on the job, because off the clock he had to be responsible, but it’s still strange to see that code-switch.

With the suit case ready, they drive to Chris’s school as Buck books plane tickets in the car. Chim is pretty sure Cap gave him the rest of the day off too, because all this driving around is longer than a quick drive. However, none of the 118 could care less, one of their own needed them, of course they were going to be there.

Chim watches Buck when they roll up to the school. He’s been a proper mess since the call came in, however, now he takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and wiping the last traces of tears away as he gets himself under control. He has to be strong for Christopher now.

He gets out of the car and goes into the school, coming out a little later with Chris walking beside him.

The two get in the back of the car and Chim drives off again. Chris asks: “Why are we suddenly leaving, papa?”

“We’re going to meet daddy, Chris,” Buck tells him, trying to inject some cheer into his voice.

“We are?” Chris asks excitedly.

“Yeah, little man, we are,” Buck smiles, before he turns a serious again. “But daddy got hurt while he was saving people, so he needs to rest. He is going to a hospital near Washington and we are going to stay with him for a bit, until he can come home with us.”

“He got hurt?” Chris frowns. “But he is the one fixing people when they get hurt.”

“Well, right now he’s with other people who also fix people when they get hurt,” Buck explains gently, trying to keep it together.

“The same people who fixed you, before daddy did?” Chris asks.

“Yeah, Chris, the same people who fixed me when I got hurt,” Buck says.

Chimney is dying to ask what they mean by that, but he doesn’t want to interrupt, especially when Buck looks like he’s going to start crying again with the slightest push. That is not helped by Chris optimistically saying: “Then he’s going to be just fine.”

Bucks lets out a shuddering breath that is closer to a sob and hugs Chris into his side, hiding his face into Chris’s hair, so he doesn’t see the few tears that leak out. With a strained voice he replies: “Yeah, buddy, he’s gonna be just fine.”

At the airport, Buck and Chris get out of the car and Chim follows to give Buck a tight hug. Buck hugs him back just as tightly and Chim says: “You’re gonna be okay, kid. We’re here for you. Don’t be afraid to call.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” Buck tells him.

Attempting to lighten the mood, Chim smiles: “Hey, I’m just glad I could do something other than be a bad influence,” calling back to their conversation after Chris spend some time with them that first time.

Buck smiles back, still a little watery, but it’s there. He puts a hand on Chim’s shoulder and looks him in the eyes, heartfelt he says: “You are so much more than that.” Then he turns to Chris and says: “Let’s go, Superman. We have a fight to catch.”

He stops to wave at Chimney, then he disappears through the glass doors, picking up Chris to hurry through the airport. Chim hopes that Eddie truly will be okay, that Buck will come back happier, maybe even happier than before he got that call. That they’re not going to lose this happy kid that brightened the A shift of the 118 more than any of them would ever admit.

It’s a shock to their system when they don’t hear a thing from Buck for three days straight. They know he must be holed up in a hospital room somewhere, in a different city with no support system trying to be there for his son and his husband. But they had hoped he would reach out.

After those three days, it’s Hen, who he calls first. They’re all duty when her phone rings and she nearly fumbles it as she exclaims: “It’s Buck.”

The others gather around her as she picks up, a little out of breath due to the excitement and haste as she greets: “Buck? Are you okay?”

They can hear the relief and giddiness in his voice as he replies: “He woke up today.”

“Oh my god, Buck, I’m so happy for you,” Hen tells him genuinely. She might not know Eddie, but she has a wife and a child, she can imagine how Buck might feel right now, knowing that both are okay, that their family is still in tact.

“Me too,” he laughs, stress melting off of him. “I hope I’m not calling at a bad time.”

“No, no, of course not. I’m glad to hear from you. We’re on shift,” Hen says. “I have two very curious men looking at me.”

Buck chuckles at that: “Glad to know I haven’t been forgotten. It’s chaos out here. Abuela called Eddie’s parents, nearly became a full blown custody battle in the hospital hallways. They’re taking Chris for ice cream now. I’m watching them out the hospital window while Eddie rests to make sure I see it if they try to make a run for it.”

It’s obviously meant to be a joke, but Hen can hear that there is a truth in there as well. She confided in the team about her issues with Denny’s custody, another reason Buck might have called her above the others.

She puts as much affection into her voice as she can as she says: “Well, they won’t take him that easily. We have a great police Sargent who’s sleeping with our Captain and a whole slew of people who’ll vouch for your parenting.”

“Thanks, Hen.

“Of course. How’s Eddie?”

Buck lets out a long breath and she can imagine him rubbing his forehead as he answers: “Hurt, but healing, I suppose. Idiot caught three bullets, two in his arm, one in his shoulder, practically his chest if you ask me, though. Nearly bled out. They’ll discharge him in two days, then we have a flight the day after, after that it’s bed rest, then PT, before he is cleared to go look for a job. The military is paying these bills luckily. I- uhm, I’ll need to get some extra shifts when I get back, can you tell Cap?”

“You can tell him yourself if you want,” Hen offers, suddenly suspicious. Buck calling her instead of Bobby to tell them about his schedule and Eddie’s state was already a little weird, but as the fellow queer with a family, she could brush it off. Now she was scared something was up, a reason why Buck might not want to talk to Bobby.

“Uhm, I’d rather not,” Buck says hesitantly.

She sends the Captain a look, a little relieved when Bobby looks confused and a little hurt that their youngest member doesn’t seem to want to talk to him. If something happened, Bobby didn’t do it purposefully. There is no guilt, as if he knows the reason, just confusion.

“Why not? Did something happen between you two?” she asks anyway, prepared to fight Bobby should that be necessary.

“Is he- Is he mad?” Buck asks hesitantly.

Now Hen is growing more worried, she sends Bobby a look and he frowns at that, then covers the mic and walks off for some privacy as she asks: “No, he doesn’t seem mad. Why would he be mad, Buck?”

“Just tell her, cariño,” a muffled voice can be heard in the background. The first sign of the mysterious husband, Eddie, that any of them have gotten and she can’t even enjoy it, too worried about Buck.

Startled, Buck exclaims: “Eddie, what are you doing awake? You should be resting.”

Eddie’s voice sounds unbearably fond as he replies: “I can always sense when you’re worrying, amor. Just tell her, get your closure. He’s not mad.”

“And how would you know that,” Buck counters and Hen would be more offended about getting ignored if Buck’s tone isn’t a little lighter after Eddie’s words.

“Cause you couldn’t shut up about the man on our phone calls,” Eddie snorts softly.

“Oh shut up,” Buck says, before returning his attention to Hen as he says: “It’s just- I, uhm- I didn’t tell my dad about Eddie and he got real mad when he found out. Now, I know Bobby isn’t, like, my dad or anything, but he’s, you know, my boss, an authority figure and I- I’m just worried he’s mad at me. For not saying.”

Hen’s heart clenches. She knows Bobby is a father figure to Buck, but the fact that Buck conflates an authority figure with a father figure, not to mention the ‘real mad’ in combination with the lack of mention of Buck’s family (she’s not stupid, she can put one and two together), break her heart a little more.

As gently as she can, she says: “Cap would never be mad at your for that, Buck. I swear. He’s worried about you and wants your family to be okay. For a moment it seemed like he was going to rip the phone out of my hands so he could ask if you’re okay himself. You can talk to him.”

“Thank you,” Buck says in a small, vulnerable voice that doesn’t fit the confident young man she’d known. Then he adds: “But, uhm can you tell him? For now. I’ll call him later.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him, but know that he’d happy to hear from you,” Hen promises, knowing she’s not going to undo whatever happened between Buck and his parents in a singular phone call.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Buck says in a tone that tells her the extra assurance was necessary. “I just have to go, Chris is coming back up and I want to check in with Eddie’s doctor.”

“Alright, I’ll let you go,” Hen says. “Good luck out there, reach out if you need us or just want someone to talk with, okay. Best to you and Eddie. I hope his recovery goes well. We all do.”

“Thanks, Hen. I’ll pass it along. Say hi to Cap and Chim for me,” Buck replies, before he hangs up, leaving her there with her phone in her hand, staring at her home screen.

She returns to Chim and Bobby, telling them about the call and her own theories as to why Buck might be acting the way he is. There’s a deep sympathy in both their eyes when she does, Chim has that extra bit of understanding in it that comes with being her friend and having served under Gerrard.

Buck does call Bobby at some point the next day. Something they know because Bobby stops moping when he finally does (though he denies ever moping in the first place).

It’s tía Pepa who picks them up from the airport when they do return, so they don’t see Buck until the day after he flies back, since that is when he has his first shift. It’s 48 hour one right off the bat, seems like he wasn’t joking about needing those shifts.

When he arrives to the firehouse, he moves cautiously as if he isn’t sure what to expect from his return just yet. That cautiousness melts into a grin when the 118 greets him with cheers and a cake that reads: Congrats on getting your family back together

He looks like he’ll cry as he says: “Thank you so much,” through a choked up voice, as he gets hugged by everyone.

They eat their cake, catch Buck up on the strange calls he missed and the shenanigans at the firehouse, while Buck fills them in on his own time away. It’s clearly an abridged and slightly edited version, one that is more lighthearted than going to visit your comatose husband probably is like, but they don’t call him out on it.

At some point Chimney asks: “So, how did you two meet anyway?”

Buck’s face turns into something fond, something they’ve only seen pieces off when he talks about Chris, though slightly different. “He was pulling a bullet out of my leg, telling me I was an idiot for trying to save him.”

“What?” the others choke out.

Buck gives them a surprised look, which clears up as he explains: “Oh yeah, I was a soldier for a bit, it’s how I met Eddie. Definitely not for me, but I’m glad I did it, because I wouldn’t have met the love of my life without it. He was a medic from a unit on the base I was also stationed at. I was already a little reckless back then.”

The 118 snorts at that, because yeah, they’ve noticed he still is. Though their hearts also constrict slightly retroactively at the danger their family member put himself in before they even met, protective instincts kicking in.

“Anyway,” Buck continues. “After I saved his ass and he stitched me up, we became friends. Nothing bonds like your medic telling you all about his divorce in an attempt to distract you and keep you conscious. We became friends real quick and by that I mean I bugged him every day, because Mr. Surly had no friends and I think he looks cute when he’s annoyed. We kinda had a flirty thing going on all throughout our tour and when it was done I had nowhere to go really, so Eddie invited me to his home. His ex-wife fully left, so suddenly it was us two with a toddler and we became more serious.”

He looks so very fond when he tells the story, so besotted. It’s almost crazy now to think he managed to hide that love for months.

“I worked as a farm hand and Eddie did odd jobs around town, but Chris’s medical bills started piling up and the only way for us to pay them was to do another tour,” Buck explains, very open about everything now that it’s all out there anyway. “I wanted to do it so Eddie wouldn’t be separated from Chris again, but I got injured. Firefighters got me out, actually, it’s why I decided to go to the academy when I was healed.”

They all grimace and nod, they’ve seen some nasty ranch incidents and can imagine how that might’ve seriously injured someone. They can also understand wanting to become a firefighter after seeing one in action.

“We wanted Chris to have some continuity and Eddie’s parents were talking about taking him, so we decided to get married. It was a shotgun wedding, just us and Chris at the courthouse to avoid anyone from stopping us or throwing a fit about it,” Buck shrugs, as if that isn’t kind of sad.

However, before anyone can say something, he lights up: “We’ve been talking about doing a vow renewal, which will be great. Maybe you guys can come? It’ll be nice to have family on my side of the aisle.”

“Of course we’ll come,” Hen says immediately, knowing the feeling of not having anyone there intimately from her own wedding.

Bobby and Chimney also fall over themselves to assure him they’ll be there and they can see that a little bit of insecurity disappears from Buck’s frame. They wouldn’t have noticed it without it disappearing and it’s a little worrying how okay Buck can seem, but they can’t really get into it, because Buck is thanking them with a big grin and then the alarm is going, forcing them to drop the topic.

After that they don’t really get to bring it up again, just observing this new Buck – because he is a new man, almost reborn with more happiness and less stress clinging to him – who is also less reckless and seemingly more okay.

He also doesn’t shut the fuck up about Eddie (said in the most affectionate way). Now that Eddie is home safe and he doesn’t have to worry about Eddie or the pitying looks, the dam has opened and there is a flood of affection for Eddie.

Everyone is all very curious and eager to meet the man that has stolen Buck’s heart so clearly, but since he is recovering Buck isn’t letting them. They are just starting to worry that something might be wrong, when they finally do meet him.

They’re just coming back from a call, getting out of the engine as Chimney says: “Is it just me, or is our probie getting more mature?”

“Mature, I don’t know, but definitely less reckless,” Hen counters, teasing Buck.

Buck is about to respond, already rolling his eyes, when a new voice speaks up, saying: “That’s probably because he has to justify what he did to someone other than an excitable seven year old when he comes home.”

The 118 turns in surprise, finding the voice to be attached to an attractive young man with dark brown hair and his arm in a sling. Before anyone can ask who he is, Buck answers the question for them his face lighting up as he exclaims: “Eddie!”

“Hello, cariño,” Eddie – because holy shit that’s Eddie – greets in return with a fond smile.

Buck rushes over to him, but slows before impact, gently and carefully hugging him as he breathes: “What are you doing here? Is everything okay? Is Christopher okay? How did you get here? You really shouldn’t be driving with that arm.”

Eddie lets Buck’s worries wash over him, the fond smile never leaving. “Everything is alright, cariño. Tía Pepa got sick of my restlessness, dropped me off here so she could clean the house in peace.”

“I told her I was cleaning the house,” Buck frowns. “She doesn’t have to do that.”

“Mi amor, you’ve been caring for all of us and juggling the chores. You deserve the rest, tía Pepa wanted to help,” Eddie tells him gently, sounding as if he’s repeating a conversation they’ve had multiple times before.

“That’s not true. Carla helps a lot with everything and you watch Chris so I can turn in early and you’ve been loading the dishwasher and collecting laundry – even though you really should be resting,” Buck replies.

“Tía Pepa is cleaning the house,” Eddie says definitively, not allowing Buck to argue. “You’re too late and we both know you’re not winning an argument with her. Now, please, introduce me to your coworkers, I’ve been dying to put faces to the names.”

“You really shouldn’t treat my work as your own personal telenovella,” Buck scolds, though it’s obvious he doesn’t mean it.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waves it away with a big grin, making him look younger.

Chimney doesn’t hesitate in skipping forwards, eager for anyone who can give him gossip or an interesting story. “Hi, I’m Chimney. Buck didn’t tell us he was married to such a hunk of a man, what is your routine?”

“Yes, he did,” Hen says, practically pushing Chimney out of the way. “Many times and with great detail. I’m Hen.”

“Let’s not overwhelm him,” Bobby says, pulling both of his subordinates away. Then he holds out his hand to Eddie, making sure that Eddie can return the shake with the hand not in the sling as he greets: “Hello, I’m Bobby, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Eddie straightens up, obviously military, and shakes the hand firmly. “The pleasure is all mine, Captain. Thank you so much for what you did for Buck and Chris while I was gone.”

“You’re welcome, it was never an issue to do so. We’re family here, we watch out for each other,” Bobby says.

“Still, I’m grateful for what you’ve done for my family,” Eddie tells him genuinely.

Within a minute of meeting them, he has won them all over, leaving them to wonder why they were ever worried to start with.

Hen asks: “So, what are your plans now that you are stateside?”

“Healing,” Buck says pointedly, before Eddie can open his mouth to answer.

Eddie sends him a fond exasperated look and they can all perfectly picture the two of them in a desert somewhere, Buck ribbing an annoyed Eddie, who isn’t actually annoyed, but playing the part in their fond routine.

“First healing,” Eddie agrees with Buck. “Then I’m thinking of joining the academy. I’m not really made for a nine to five and Buck has won me over with all his work stories.”

“Well, I’ll fight to get you in my house,” Bobby promises. “Now, what do you think about some lunch, I was just about to get started on some lasagna.”

“Definitely not saying no to some famed Bobby Nash cooking,” Eddie grins, following the others up to the loft and seamlessly fitting in with them.

Being a single parent isn’t the easiest, but now Buck doesn’t have to do it alone anymore. His partner is back and with that the fear of loosing him is gone. Their jobs will still be dangerous, but he can have his back and prevent the alone from becoming permanent.

Today, Buck is high on life, knowing Chris is safely at school and Eddie is here right besides him, the two surrounded by family. There are only more memories to be made in the future.

[mysharona1987]

[drathe]

the cycle

Enver and Urge had really shitty childhoods ngl

[threepandas]

Bad End: For Us

My sister is the only one who actually knows me. Who looks at me and... and actually SEES me, for who I am. It's because she suffers too, I think. Is beautiful. In that way that drives men too distraction. Poets too the page, artists too a medium. They look at her like she is art, magnificence and beauty given form.

Not a person.

Living, breathing, with thoughts and feelings of her own.

She is... is just BEAUTY to them. Delicate features and graceful limbs. Refined and splendid. A lovely voice reducing all her brilliant thoughts to mere sound. Who cares? How clever and educated, how wise or dignified, she may be? She is decoration. A pretty thing to look at. A prize to be held and won.

And... and I am a cute little pet.

Eternally the toddler, to be pampered and dressed in bows. Girlish things, no matter how old I grow. Handled instead of spoken too. Because somehow I am a child. Fuckable, yet... a child. Cute, innocent, naive. Not because I AM, but because they SAY so. Because it matches their fantasy of me.

I fear what will happen if I dare break that fantasy, with how much they control my life.

My Sister, alone, is the one who SEES me.

And people try to convince me she is... what? Jealous? Bitter? Because I am somehow "stealing" the lecherous eyes of her unfaithful man? I don't want them. I don't want ANY of them. Reborn, somehow, as a Protagonist in some game amongst countless, I can predict the plot points as they come. Read the troupes.

Bah. I am no spunky little bright eyed thing.

As I lay, draped over my sister's splendid skirts, in her private writing room, she quietly sips her tea and writes return missives. Strokes my hair as I hide, curled up like a child against her legs. If the ridiculous outfit I was shoved in would allow it? I would cram myself under her desk. Hide there instead.

As it is? I sit like some sulking maiden, an exhausted pet, seeking comfort in the only refuge I HAVE.

They will not leave me ALONE.

The Knight. Some brash, meat headed, "I'll take care of you" type, crashing into every quiet moment I try to have. Loud and presumptuous. Disdainful of my academic interests.

The Playboy. All too forward "romantic" gestures and ignoring obvious discomfort. More wrapped up in HIS feelings then considering, for even a moment, my own. Selfish and dramatic.

The Duke. Cliché and terrible. "Kind" to no one but me. Endless expensive gifts, pressuring grand displays, and eyes that linger possessively. Violence at the drop of a hat.

But oh, let us not forget the ASSASSIN! Yes, the LEADER of the ASSASSIN'S Guild! That somehow, someway, decided I was a prize worth possessing. A cutesy little "interesting" doll. That? Gods only knows, what will happen when he grows bored.

Lingering and haunting me. Crawling through windows. Standing too close, to touch my hair and drop cryptic bits of information that always hint at terrible things. Having to watch my words so SO carefully. Lest someone end up DEAD.

And let's not forget the WORST offender! The most clingy of them ALL!

My sister's FIANCÉ.

The Crown PRINCE! Yes, not some average noble, but a ROYAL!! And the man can't CONTROL himself! But does anyone else care? Noooooo! It's ROMANTIC. True loooove~! Aren't we CUTE together? Surely my Sister, his FIANCÉE, is just JEALOUS. How VILE. Disgusting, they scoff!

I should start throwing chairs.

This house is a nightmare.

I curl closer to my sister. Releasing her skirts to slip an arm around her waist. Hugging her, pressing my face close. She puts her cup down with a soft clink. A second hand joining the first to stroke my head. Cup my cheeks.

"My Dearest, you can not hide against my skirts indefinitely. As much as I would love to let you." She says, voice soft and cool like swirling mist, tilting my face up so she can look me in the eyes. "You DO need to eat eventually, as do I. Unfortunately, I can not keep you here forever. Come, help me plan the wedding. We can look at cake styles."

I'd rather be planning a funeral.

"Not until I get a son out of him, I'm afraid."

Wut.

I blink, not sure I heard that right. Look up at my softly smile sister. No. No, I probably didn't. Wishful thinking maybe? Or I've just been around Stabby too much. I scramble to my feet. Fighting my own girlish abomination of a skirt. I hate it. It's cutesy to the point of mocking. I'm in my TWENTIES for God's sake! Not EARLY twenties either!

Why do I have a BOW ON MY ASS?!

Because I am the Protagonist. Baby faced and Pwecious~☆. Fucking INFANTALIZED. I could BITE.

I sigh, take the arm my sister offers me, and tuck myself into her side. Rest my head upon her shoulder. It's a little uncomfortable, with all the jewelry she must wear. But damn it! I want my cuddles!

I bask, as we walk, in the comfort it brings.

She's strong and graceful. Smells like a delicate spring morning, all rare flowers and new growth. A hint of expensive spice. I LOVE being the little sibling. When it's HER that's treating me so. Because she makes it precious. Comfortable. Like we could spend our lives, together like this. The best of friends.

Happy.

If only people would... you know... stop trying to FUCK me. I prefer my hobbies. For God's sake, I'm RICH and a second child. I HAVE basicly no responsibilities except "don't embarrass the family". Or that WOULD be the case? If our parents weren't so intent on... "pushy dating advice".

"Would you like some lovely news, Dearest?" Whispers my sister, as she sweeps us past some upset looking maids, towards the tea room. I nod. "I've made some wonderful headway with some... ambitious gentlemen, about your little cockroach problem. They are quite efficient. I'm likely to recommend them."

I stiffle a snort. Oh my god. My sister sent thugs after a few of the suitors? Holy shit! That's amazing! Is THAT why I haven't seen them around lately? They got scared?

We settle in our seats. Tea and snacks. The maid looks... nervous. Weird. My sister smiles kindly, somehow startling the poor thing, making her flinch. Oh dear. I try to smile reassuringly. No harm no foul, right? Yet the poor girl reacts like I've cast myself into a lion pit for her. Flees.

....I'm beginning to suspect someone is abusing our waitstaff.

It's probably that bastard lech of a fiance.

We need to keep him away from the maids. And me. Women in general honesty. If I had my say, he wouldn't be allowed near my SISTER either. But she insists, and- Oooh! This one's CUTE! Sis, Sis! LOOK at the little details on this one!

"Hmm? Oh that IS lovely! Do you like it? If so, we shall sample it at once. I want the day to be perfect for us, Dearest. You're my world after all. There's NOTHING I wouldn't give you. A shame though, that our parent's will likely be too sick to see me wed."

It really was. I had my differences with them, but... it was their DAUGHTER'S WEDDING you know? Whatever they had caught, during their endless string of parties, was ravaging their health. It seemed agonizing. Slow. Yet even in the midst of planning her WEDDING, all the gossip and backstabbing, my sister dutifully visited them. Brought them tea and kept them company.

I didn't know how she could bear it.

She was a better person then I, I guess.

[lambypop]

Hi i wrote this like at 3 am yesterday

Well this is a weird thingy tham im doing, its been TOO long since I've written anything, so this is gonna be deff a Crack fic or maybe just an dumb idea that i just got, imma merge so many shit together ao please here me out,

So Neglected Reader? Huh? YES. but h

What about Neglected Dad Bruce Wayne with Protective squad that consists of all his daughters + every other sidekick that he's met (not the robins)

I love the neglectful fanfics but im just to depress right now and i need Fluff or a Crack fic that also uses the Neglectful tagg so imma just do it my self.

So this is my idea

Bruce's Kids (minus Cass and Damian) and Bruce's firends (the JL) after some issue or problem they just crashout/ snap / lash out at bruce and just like that there is tension in the manor and in the HQ, and even alfred is giving him his disappointed look, it takes a toll on bruce so much that the tension finally makes Bruce's Social battery go to total 0% and He decides to have a very much needed Stayation in France to see none other than his super secret BIO Daughter (and totally convenient is the Reader) that he usually visits 1 week and a half every 2 or 3 months (its for covering his tracks and not to be suspicious, tho they usually have phone calls or just facetime) so he goes and stays with his daugher and he finally gets to have a rest from everyone else (Bruce is gonna be either to anxious or just kinda Neurodivergent coded) what Bruce doesn't know is that

In the daytime they are his daughter, just a normal child with a normal life, but there's something about them that no one knows yet, cause they have a secret.

Or Bruce Wayne is Tired and goes to live with his daughter in France, and his daughter is a Magical Girl / Laybug / a Sailor scout?! (Something like that lmao)

Or im just to sleep deprived and im not coherent

Also this is a shit crossover? Because what do you mean Invincible has an appearance is in the fic?????

(BTW please leave comments with yall's opinions or ideas or whatever u have in mind i like reading/listening to peoples ideas or opinios) (●'◡'●)

[galaxymagitech]

Mandated reporter Dick Grayson who sees Bruce hit one of his siblings and now has to grapple with the legal imperative to actually report this instead of just punching his father a couple times and then dropping the matter—

[veinsfullofstars]

Meet the Families: Bebebe & Jojojo

Everyone, say hi to Dedede’s mama and papa - a pair of lovebirds as different as day and night! Check below the cut for more deets and fun facts!

(OC info updated as of 05/28/25.)

Started 04/14/25, finished 04/20/25. | Childhood Friends AU Masterpost

---

Some fun facts about Bebebe:

-Bee is originally from Planet Earthfall and grew up helping out on her family’s farm... or trying to, anyway, finding her eye tended to wander away from boring farm work and drift towards the distant horizon instead. All it took was a handsome drifter and his tales of life beyond the stars to get her feet moving, sparking a sense of wanderlust that remains with her to this day.

-During her far-flung travels, she discovered the world of spectacle fights and pursued a career in an interstellar wrestling circuit on a whim, finding a knack for it and even earning a good bit of fame for a time thanks to her fiery persona, impressive strength, and skill with her weapon of choice, the great hammer.

-She met Jojojo during the height of her career, spotting him in a group of visiting Star Warriors who’d seen her latest match. She likes to talk about how much she enjoyed the process of slowly cracking open his hardened solider exterior, of seeing just what it took to make him smile or laugh or share a bit of himself, of finding a nurturing side that he’d hidden away for so long (his battle skills were nothing to sneeze at either). She’d been the one to propose not long before her planned retirement from the circuit some years later.

-She loves food just as much as her son, having discovered many delicious exotic dishes during her travels (though she has a soft spot for the southern comfort food of her homeland). She jokes that she would’ve probably been an intergalactic foodie if she hadn’t joined the fighting circuit. She is a regular customer over at the bakery run by Para's dad.

-Bee is a kind and gregarious woman, well-liked by just about everyone in the neighborhood and good at making friends of even the grouchiest souls (if her choice of partner is any indication). Though, despite having a veritable well of patience, it would not be wise to push her buttons too much or talk smack about anyone she cares about. There’s a reason they used to call her Madame Caldera in her wrestling days…

-Bee never really considered herself the motherly type until she and Jo came to Popstar and had her only son. Now she can't imagine not caring for the little tykes that run and play around her new home. She even took on a part-time position as a PE teacher and sports coach for the children of the village, happy to help keep them fit and active even if they can all be a handful sometimes (like, literal handful - she can easily lift most of them with one hand and toss them like basketballs if she wanted).

-Bee has loved her son from the moment he was born and would spoil him rotten if given the chance (one of the very few points of contention between her and her husband, given how much she tends to let the boy get away with). One can only imagine the absolute joy in her heart when Dedede asked her to teach him how to fight like she did back in her wrestling days.

-Even after decades of marriage, Bee still knows how to fluster her prim-and-proper husband.

Some fun facts about Jojojo:

-Jo is originally from Shiver Star, raised in a well-off family with parents who were (no pun intended) rather cold and traditionalist. He claims that the only good parts of his childhood were learning to play the piano and wandering through his family’s greenhouse.

-He left for the GSA at an early age (supposedly at the encouragement of a less-than-loving parent) and would go on to spend much of his adult life training and working for them. There, he rose through the Star Warrior ranks, facing many hardships and triumphs along the way, and even learned how to conduct the very elements around him into his weapon of choice, the longsword. By the time he’d met Bebebe, he’d become quite the decorated knight, practically on track to become a General had he not encountered some… difficulties during one of his last missions, ones that left him with a scar on his foot and a permanent limp, forcing him into an earlier retirement than he’d anticipated. He still keeps in contact with his commanders and war buddies through Paige and Sir Tort (definitely just for correspondence and not for long-distance contract work to fill the void left by his retirement).

-Though Jo has many an exciting and grisly tale from his time overstars, he’s not the best storyteller, his recounts often dry and monotonous even during the most heart-pounding scenes. He’s more of a stickler for facts, statistics, and order as opposed to the subjective and emotional.

-Perhaps stemming from a childhood spent on a planet covered in endless winter, Jo has always had an interest in plants and nature, finding their elemental power to be the easiest for him to conduct and control. He’d put it aside for a while during his GSA days (tending to favor ice more during that time), but rediscovered it after meeting Bee, her friendship and gentle encouragement leading him back to those old, beloved hobbies. These days, he helps out at the local apothecary in the village - run by Para’s mother - and practically fills their home with potted plants, caring for them and even giving his favorite ones names (don't laugh - he takes his plants very seriously).

-Jo is civil and respectful with most of their neighbors - talking mechanics with Bow's mom, or discussing herbalism with Para's mother, or trading tales of time overstars with Sir Tort - but he's not nearly as chummy with everyone as his more sociable wife. He has found a surprising camaraderie with Whispy Woods, though, appreciating the old tree for his wisdom when he comes seeking answers or advice, and for his patience when he needs some space or a place to vent.

-Though often busy helping at the apothecary or away on *ahem* off-the-clock GSA business, Jo occasionally makes time to train some of the older children in the way of the sword should they be interested. He is not exactly a patient teacher, but he is an effective one to the right students (as showcased by Meta and his - in Jo's words - remarkable aptitude for swordplay).

-Jo’s relationship with his son is… a strained one, to put it lightly. Though he does care about the boy and wants to see him succeed, he's not great at showing it, instead defaulting to methods of strictness and distance used in his own upbringing. He has a habit of piling expectations upon the boy, delivering curt critiques and passive-aggressive disappointment whenever he fails to meet them. Dedede usually responds with shouting, backtalk, and childish acts of rebellion that only serve to reinforce Jo’s frustration with him, leaving it up to Bee to mediate things and try to encourage patience between them.

-Even decades into their marriage, Jo is ever the gentleman and treats his wife with the utmost respect.