gothamcreation-blog

[gothamcreation-blog]

Bruce was ground bitter from the state he saw Damian’s mind and body in. “I don’t believe that you will ever be free of your father,” He said without pause. “By your will or his.” He followed her into the bedroom, feeling the lingering sensation of where she had touched his jaw. He felt anticipation but it was barely more than cold tension, he was braced, as if for a bullet- not a baby.

He didn’t know where she drew the line anymore, he had realized that he never had known. In the end, he felt Talia was a creature of her own, wild in a way, but faking being tame. She would bite you when you forgot that she was not a house cat but a tigress, he believed. “Maybe in another life, another time, Talia, a place where you truly were free of your father, maybe there, things would have been different for us but that’s not the world we live in,” Bruce looked at the small boy’s face. “Not our world. How much more of my genetic material do you have? I don’t want any more children made, Talia.” He narrowed blue eyes. “No more.” His next words, the demand that what was left was destroyed or he would destroy it himself. One way or another, by whatever means he had to go to see it cleared thoroughly but the boy silenced the thoughts. He was not so cold to deny his own child, no matter how that child had come to be.

He saw her offer Tallant to him and with black gloves he took the boy. Bruce curled the waking child along one thick glove, minding the sharp points and the bumps. He was quiet as he looked over the child, searching for what was similar to Damian and what was different. He looked for a Wayne. He looked for an Al Ghul. He was angry the child existed but not angry at the child for existing, he just felt the weight of a child bearing his blood but not his care. Damian had been damaged enough in such short time. “Tallant.” He said firmly.

Hotel Bella Monico

Drinking alone. Well, at least I’m contradicting yet another of my Father’s rules. Talia thought boredly, tossing her long ponytail over her shoulder.

Getting up from the peacock chair, Talia strolled across the conservatory floor; swirling her tumbler of arak, before taking a sip of the beverage.

Raising her gaze upwards, al Ghul could practically feel whatever presence loomed outside of the conservatory, long before the silent alarm began alerting her from her wristband.

Switching her drink to her left hand and drawing her medieval scimitar silently from the scabbard on her left with her free hand, Talia stood poised as she turned around to face the looming figure at the window.

“Talia.”

Smiling benignly up at the familiar figure, Talia sheathed her sword and turned back around, “Really, Beloved? After all these years? A simple phone call beforehand would have sufficed. At least then I would have had time to change into something more accommodating, then my training clothing.”

Talia strolled back over to the table and pulled over the decanter of arak, reaching for another tumbler and pouring a shot of the clear, sweet liquor into the green glass.

“But I suppose old habits die hard. It’s all right, I forgive you.” Talia turned back around and offered out the tumbler to The Batman. “How was your journey? Has our darling son been behaving himself? And have you seen my dear Jason lately?”

[gothamcreation-blog]

“Hnn,” Bruce felt distant, the way he sometimes did when he was in these situations. Maybe his mind had been too honed to sensation and detail, it worked tirelessly to scan the scene to memory. He was in black-tie formalwear, suit tailored to his large chest and shoulders. He grinned for Dick, slightly, enough to let his first boy know that everything was fine and he wasn’t angry or off in some sewer of the mind. He paused, Dick looked bright, the kind of beaming that he’d do from time-to-time as a child but, mostly, it was the smile of Robin. Flipping around, giggling, heckling whoever they were fighting with on-and-on-and-on until the child’s noise had become another tool in the way he fought. He reached over and put his hand on Dick’s knee, his gut said, tell him you’re proud but the stubborn sense of words he should not waste clipped its wings. He paused again, no. If ever the time was right. “I’m proud of you, your mother and father, they would be proud as well but you know that.” He squeezed his knee and gave it a pat. He felt older, thinking of Dick as a child always put him in a mood that was a little different every time it took hold but, almost always, he was greeted by a sense of something pure. A point in time that was right, in all its chaos and darkness, in all of Gotham’s sick, there they were… Batman and Robin. And how that tiny boy had changed him and how he continued to change him, as he grew up, and now… sitting by him at his wedding. “Ready?”

Ceremony

The air was crisp and the leaves around the back yard of the manor were colored in oranges, reds and yellows… a perfect fall day. The yard was filled with chairs, decorated with light blue ribbon and a white carpet leading to the rose decorated arch serving as their alter. Guests were filing in and seating themselves to witness the day, a day that few thought would come.

Dick stood at the alter, looking over the friends that had gathered to witness this. Wally, Donna, his brothers… all at his side. And Bruce, the right Bruce, sitting in the front row. He knew it would be a little while yet before the ceremony began, so he moved over to sit beside his father.

“You’re not going to like, stand up and object or anything right?” He grinned, shoving himself a little playfully into Bruce. “I’m glad you’re here. Really. To see this. This is the one that’s important. The celebration.”

He looked up at Bruce with a soft smile, his eyes sparkling with anticipation and emotion. This was a big day. He’d said it wasn’t a big deal, since they’d taken the legal part out already. This was just for show, for the people they loved, but… somehow he still had the feeling of nerves. His heart was racing in the excitement of seeing Barbara come down the aisle with her dad.

“Colin looks adorable in that little tux. Almost as cute as I did at his age.”

[gothamcreation-blog]

Batman entered, slowly, he wouldn’t drop his guard around her because he knew her. She was a jewel laden viper, in the end, and as soon as he forgot her bite… he found venom in his veins. His hands made no twitch or motion towards the glass she held out to him and he felt tension in his jaw. “Talia, this madness must end,” He tried to sound as hard as he could, not the hard where he would bang her up against a wall or draw blood, but the hard of a loveless relation. “I know you have another baby.” Batman paused. He realized only when he spoke of the child out loud that he didn’t know what he wanted to do about it. He didn’t… want the child, he hadn’t come here to demand to be given his son because he knew that she would most likely make another child but he couldn’t simply leave this boy to have his soul blackened, mind washed with thoughts of world domination, and more Al Ghul madness scrubbed into all places where childhood innocence should live.  For those reasons, he knew he should take the child. Then again, who had the right to take a baby from its mother? Bruce frowned, the gray, there was no black and white like Clark always thought. No right, no wrong. Only this muddy water he seemed to exist in. “Show me the boy, Talia.”

Hotel Bella Monico

Batman knew where she was. The information Barbara had given him he could not even consider a tip or a rumor. He took it as fact. Fact that Talia had rented out the entire top floor of Hotel Belle Monico and that she was, currently, living here- with this baby. His chest was tight but not as tight as his jaw, back teeth grinding together, back-and-forth, back-and-forth. He was listening with a sensitive ear-piece, waiting for when she passed by the window below his dark form. His thoughts were conflicted, anger, but he could only be so angry with her. His anger came to a point and fizzled through his muscle, becoming the dark glow that forever surrounded him.

He listened for the sounds of an infant inside. A little cry, a little giggle, anything familiar- he wouldn’t crash through windows if the infant was close. He drifted, slowly, to the window and positioned himself there, knelt with his cowl bowed and the angular shadow of his ears stretched out through the window, over the floor, and up the ceiling elongated and stretched like a monster. “Talia.”

[gothamcreation-blog]

Bruce watched him, “I think it suits you, Dick, but I think it’s work that will make you happy. You’re going to have to consider a few things as you get older,” He paused. “You’re not me.” He paused again. “And you have a family now, stress will come and go differently than it did when you were a Teen Titan.”

He looked up at the tree they were under and was quiet again, his brow creased in hidden thoughts. “Regardless, the building is yours, do what you want with it and talk to your wife.” He smirked. He had never expected Dick to get married, to actually get married. He expected Dick to continue on as he did with flippant flings and maybe-weddings that, through this-or-that, ended in not. He didn’t know how this would end up but he saw no need to question it further. For now, it was fine. Dick was happy.

Fall

Bruce exhaled and he sat down by his first Robin out in the yard of the manor. He leaned back against an oak and took a sip of the tea that Alfred had brewed, which he had brought out in a large thermos with two cups. He’d wanted to be alone. Try this again, so-to-say. After the initial, almost traumatic, outpour of abandonment and stress had passed through his Robin. He handed Dick a cup, “You always liked every season, do you remember? When you first came to live with me, you made sure that I was very aware how much you liked the spring but, in fall, you absolutely loved the colors and the leaves and, pumpkins, of course. In the winter, you liked icicles and Christmas, It’s a Wonderful Life, you started that tradition,” He remembered. “Movie night,” He smirked. “And then spring, your birthday, the time of year you clung to loving more than any other but spring always made you sad. You never had the energy of the other seasons. I would catch you at the windows, lost in thought, with heavy eyes.” He observed everything to a detail he could not shut out. Images came to him in snaps of this child who now sat by him as a man, yet the memories were as vivid as if he stood watching his skinny undeveloped form hunkered there by the window with glassy, sad eyes, looking out at the spring he defended with every ounce of his brilliant soul. “And summer, when you were let out of school for break, you clung to me, every moment, you wouldn’t waste one second.” Bruce took a drink of the tea, it was oddly colorless, a sort of gray had come through the color of the mugs and drowned out whatever light green had been there. He knew it was green tea, he could taste it. It was too hot. He swallowed quickly and set it aside, in the browning fallen leaves. “Fall is the season that makes me think of all the other seasons.” Now that Dick was getting older, Bruce felt like he could have these talks with him. Show something more, not be as severe. Dick was a grown man, he could hold his own, he would continue his training. He didn’t need a nanny. He didn’t need constant lessons. Bruce knew, things changed, and would continue to change, and what Dick now required was his friendship and his fatherly advice, when it was asked of him. “Do you remember any of that, the seasons and how they affected you? The first spring you spent with me? The first Christmas?”

[gothamcreation-blog]

Dick. I found this hidden in your dresser, taped to the underside of the third drawer, I am beyond displeased that after all these years you still try to hide things you don't want anyone to find instead of destroying them. Most people figure this out by the time they're 6 or 7 years old.

[gothamcreation-blog]

Hotel Bella Monico

Batman knew where she was. The information Barbara had given him he could not even consider a tip or a rumor. He took it as fact. Fact that Talia had rented out the entire top floor of Hotel Belle Monico and that she was, currently, living here- with this baby. His chest was tight but not as tight as his jaw, back teeth grinding together, back-and-forth, back-and-forth. He was listening with a sensitive ear-piece, waiting for when she passed by the window below his dark form. His thoughts were conflicted, anger, but he could only be so angry with her. His anger came to a point and fizzled through his muscle, becoming the dark glow that forever surrounded him.

He listened for the sounds of an infant inside. A little cry, a little giggle, anything familiar- he wouldn’t crash through windows if the infant was close. He drifted, slowly, to the window and positioned himself there, knelt with his cowl bowed and the angular shadow of his ears stretched out through the window, over the floor, and up the ceiling elongated and stretched like a monster. “Talia.”

[gothamcreation-blog]

“Some traditions are,” Bruce said. He was silent for a moment, listening to the relaxed sound of Dick’s breathing. “I wanted to talk to you about something,” Another pause. “I think you, Barbara, and Colin should stay at the Manor. You’re my heir, Dick. I want your family to be in the family home and Alfred, you know he’s only happy when he has people to look after, people other than me. But, it’s your choice, I just wanted you to hear it from me.” Since he was on the things he actually had wanted to talk to Dick about but the young man’s breakdown had cut him short, he continued. “And I don’t think you should pursue the Police Force further. There’s no need and you know your heart is in something else, you’re an excellent teacher, a phenomenal leader, and you can’t sit still for five minutes,” A single black brow rose and slowly, he took out a white envelope, the contents pressing on the seal. “Happy very belated birthday, son, I think this is something you’ve been dancing around for a long time.”

Fall

Bruce exhaled and he sat down by his first Robin out in the yard of the manor. He leaned back against an oak and took a sip of the tea that Alfred had brewed, which he had brought out in a large thermos with two cups. He’d wanted to be alone. Try this again, so-to-say. After the initial, almost traumatic, outpour of abandonment and stress had passed through his Robin. He handed Dick a cup, “You always liked every season, do you remember? When you first came to live with me, you made sure that I was very aware how much you liked the spring but, in fall, you absolutely loved the colors and the leaves and, pumpkins, of course. In the winter, you liked icicles and Christmas, It’s a Wonderful Life, you started that tradition,” He remembered. “Movie night,” He smirked. “And then spring, your birthday, the time of year you clung to loving more than any other but spring always made you sad. You never had the energy of the other seasons. I would catch you at the windows, lost in thought, with heavy eyes.” He observed everything to a detail he could not shut out. Images came to him in snaps of this child who now sat by him as a man, yet the memories were as vivid as if he stood watching his skinny undeveloped form hunkered there by the window with glassy, sad eyes, looking out at the spring he defended with every ounce of his brilliant soul. “And summer, when you were let out of school for break, you clung to me, every moment, you wouldn’t waste one second.” Bruce took a drink of the tea, it was oddly colorless, a sort of gray had come through the color of the mugs and drowned out whatever light green had been there. He knew it was green tea, he could taste it. It was too hot. He swallowed quickly and set it aside, in the browning fallen leaves. “Fall is the season that makes me think of all the other seasons.” Now that Dick was getting older, Bruce felt like he could have these talks with him. Show something more, not be as severe. Dick was a grown man, he could hold his own, he would continue his training. He didn’t need a nanny. He didn’t need constant lessons. Bruce knew, things changed, and would continue to change, and what Dick now required was his friendship and his fatherly advice, when it was asked of him. “Do you remember any of that, the seasons and how they affected you? The first spring you spent with me? The first Christmas?”

[gothamcreation-blog]

Fall

Bruce exhaled and he sat down by his first Robin out in the yard of the manor. He leaned back against an oak and took a sip of the tea that Alfred had brewed, which he had brought out in a large thermos with two cups. He’d wanted to be alone. Try this again, so-to-say. After the initial, almost traumatic, outpour of abandonment and stress had passed through his Robin. He handed Dick a cup, “You always liked every season, do you remember? When you first came to live with me, you made sure that I was very aware how much you liked the spring but, in fall, you absolutely loved the colors and the leaves and, pumpkins, of course. In the winter, you liked icicles and Christmas, It’s a Wonderful Life, you started that tradition,” He remembered. “Movie night,” He smirked. “And then spring, your birthday, the time of year you clung to loving more than any other but spring always made you sad. You never had the energy of the other seasons. I would catch you at the windows, lost in thought, with heavy eyes.” He observed everything to a detail he could not shut out. Images came to him in snaps of this child who now sat by him as a man, yet the memories were as vivid as if he stood watching his skinny undeveloped form hunkered there by the window with glassy, sad eyes, looking out at the spring he defended with every ounce of his brilliant soul. “And summer, when you were let out of school for break, you clung to me, every moment, you wouldn’t waste one second.” Bruce took a drink of the tea, it was oddly colorless, a sort of gray had come through the color of the mugs and drowned out whatever light green had been there. He knew it was green tea, he could taste it. It was too hot. He swallowed quickly and set it aside, in the browning fallen leaves. “Fall is the season that makes me think of all the other seasons.” Now that Dick was getting older, Bruce felt like he could have these talks with him. Show something more, not be as severe. Dick was a grown man, he could hold his own, he would continue his training. He didn’t need a nanny. He didn’t need constant lessons. Bruce knew, things changed, and would continue to change, and what Dick now required was his friendship and his fatherly advice, when it was asked of him. “Do you remember any of that, the seasons and how they affected you? The first spring you spent with me? The first Christmas?”

[gothamcreation-blog]

shut up dick

10: If you could star in a biopic about any famous person ever, who would it be?

Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Bruce Wayne. Why do you think we’re all tiny clones of him?

Do something productive.

Get off the internet.

And shut up Dick.

[gothamcreation-blog]

What the -- for SIX months? How did that happen? How were we all doped? I can't believe this.

If you want to talk about this meet me at Cape Carmine, 12:40 PM.

[gothamcreation-blog]

How refreshingly vague.

I was literally lost in time and space, Selina. In other times and other dimensions, fragments and mutations of our reality. Darkseid.

[gothamcreation-blog]

Bruce, I heard about Elliot and how we were all fools. Where have you been the entire time?

Time and space.

[gothamcreation-blog]

Your kitten is meowing at me. I'm going to kill her.

I don't have a cat.

[gothamcreation-blog]

"Whatever you need to do, Jim." Batman answered. He knew that would be what happened anyway, he'd never found Jim as a man who needed his hand held... that, and he trusted the man. He cared for this city as much as he did. "Almost everyone. Harley and Ivy are out. Just keep your guard up, I wouldn't be surprised if something is in the works and I'm looking into it." He turned away, towards the edge of the roof. "Anything else?" He asked over his shoulder with a smirk slicing over his mouth.

Old Colleagues

“Yeah, it is.  Come February, we’ll be missing nights like this even more.”  He’d gotten over being surprised by Batman years ago, at least up on that roof.  The massive hulk of shadow cut out of the night sky could have popped out of his nose and Jim wouldn’t have even blinked.  They knew each other, the two of them, as well as they could.

It wasn’t the tallest building in the neighborhood, but he’d done a good job, years ago, of making sure that the tenants around his base of operations were clean, easy to keep eyes on even with how small the staff he trusted was.  If the other man had expressed his thought out loud, that their little roof was a sanctified space that they’d made together, Jim would have laughed, then agreed.

“I’ve been doing an undercover operation for the past couple months.  I hear it’s not been quiet on your end, either?”  Down to business.

[gothamcreation-blog]

“If you’re having the actual wedding, I’ll be there,” Bruce put his hands on Dick’s shoulders, then tugged. He squeezed the smaller form tight to his chest. He knew that Dick needed it, just, one more hug. “I want you to focus like you always have. I’m here and make sure everyone knows that. You don’t need to shoulder this entire family anymore. Understand?”

Birds

Bruce was waiting for him. Waiting. He heard the sound of Dick’s footsteps, he knew them from his other children. He picked up something familiar, a basketball. He had it there resting on his leg with his hand on top of it. He stood and tossed the ball at his first Robin. He was wearing black slacks and a black fitted exercise shirt, tight on his big upper body. “What do you say, Dick?”

[gothamcreation-blog]

Bruce could tell damage had been done, perhaps not entirely by the Lazarus Pit. Hush had not been there for Dick the way that was required, obviously, how could he have been? He wasn’t Bruce. And despite his aloof attitude his kids knew that he cared for them.

He could hear abandonment thick on Dick’s voice, interwoven on his words like a quiver at the ends of his fingertips. At least, he believed that his kid’s knew he cared for him. He absolutely knew that Dick believed, knew, he was loved. That was the difference, to him, in Dick verses the others. Dick knew he was loved, that’s why they fought like father-and-son because family didn’t simply end. Dick had never been afraid that he would lose him, fighting or not, angry words, these were things that all parents fought through with their children. This was family. He felt tightness in his chest that, suddenly, Dick feared something like that? What had changed? That was the difference between being a father and a friend, didn’t Dick know that?

“Dick… you know that’s not going to happen. I made my choice when I decided to take you in and when I signed your adoption papers that name you my heir. My only heir, to everything I have, you.” He hugged him, or, he simply held on feeling the clingy tension there in Dick’s body. “You’re fine. It’s over. Let it go. I’m back. Why do you think I designed your alibi to be a knee injury? You need a break.” Bruce kept steady eyes on his son. “Focus on getting back on your feet, you know how to perform,” He tipped the crying man’s chin up. “Focus on your art. Focus.” He believed in him, he always had. And if any hero had crime fighting down to an art, it was Nightwing.

Bruce had not seen Dick this upset in years, he had thought the man had moved past the need for his approval on everything but, perhaps, that was the mask in the end. In the end, maybe the son would always seek approval from the father. Bruce exhaled, how long is it going to take him to get back on his feet again? He wondered.

Birds

Bruce was waiting for him. Waiting. He heard the sound of Dick’s footsteps, he knew them from his other children. He picked up something familiar, a basketball. He had it there resting on his leg with his hand on top of it. He stood and tossed the ball at his first Robin. He was wearing black slacks and a black fitted exercise shirt, tight on his big upper body. “What do you say, Dick?”

[gothamcreation-blog]

What's your favorite food? Why?

I am not terrible at cooking steak but that's not my favorite food. I try to eat an exact diet, as you well know Alfred, but I enjoy popcorn, nachos, and the occasional milkshake, thanks to the boys. They get some kind of strange satisfaction in making me eat junk food while watching bad movies. I humor them, that's all it is.