sopitadeestrellas

[sopitadeestrellas]

Bruce makes his decision the day he fires Stephanie from being Robin. He can’t stand the pain in her eyes, and the anger in his voice. So he stops. His children don’t need him, Steph alone proves that, she bounces back with renewed vigor after he kicks her from being Robin, and spoiler becomes a quick favorite. They ask for comments that Batman doesn’t give, and he patrols alone. Stephanie doesn’t need him, his kids don’t need him, and he won’t insult them as individuals or their pride by claiming otherwise. But Gotham needs Batman. Bruce Wayne dies, publicly and horribly, donating half of his money to people in need and the other half going to his children. Even Stephanie and Duke and Babs and those that never once called him dad. They were still his. Were. Dick is livid when he finds out, storming into the cave in a whirlwind of curses and tears, demanding answers Bruce doesn’t give and trying so hard to instigate a response. He screams and yells and argues and ‘why?!?’ Is at the top of the list but Bruce doesn’t answer, doesn’t fight back. Dicks voice is hoarse, his fists bloody, Bruce’s bruised body his canvas, but still Bruce doesn’t answer him, doesn’t speak, just turns away, unwilling to see the hurt in his son's eyes. “I thought you had died.” Dick finally rasped hoarsely. “I thought you died for real and I didn’t know and no one told me and I thought you were gone.” The words break something inside Bruce, and he’s almost 100% certain it’s his heart but it solidifies his resolve and he doesn’t speak. Dick leaves, finally, and then Jason takes his place. Then Tim. Then Babs. Then Damian. Then Cass. Bruce doesn’t answer any of them, merely offering the new CEO of Wayne Enterprise a small smile and hugging his youngest to his chest, though the boy tries to fight it.

“I’m sorry.” He rasps, when they’ve all gathered, waiting, watching him. They stare at him in surprise, and Bruce cannot blame them, but he doesn’t continue. They know, even if they don’t want to say it. They know they would be better off without him, better without him in their lives. They don’t need him. His greatest successes and his biggest sins. But Gotham needs the Batman. And the cowl will die with him. He hands Tim the keys to the bat cave and packs up his suits and the tools he needs and disappears, although he’s under no illusions that they don’t all know where he is. He takes residence in a small safe house at the edge of Gotham, far from anyone’s patrol routes, and creates a new routine, patrolling at odd hours, straying to the edges, adopting their techniques over his own. He still doesn’t speak, but he smiles, adds splashes of color to his suit, and makes himself appear smaller, less threatening. The Batman myth should be enough to protect his children, and even so, they can take care of themselves. Of each other. He becomes kinder, mimics dicks easy smiles and Jason’s gentle hands. Starts copying Tim’s funky dances and cass’s snaky movements, things that always seemed to put people at ease. He doesn’t speak, but he laughs, and makes funny noises, and Gothamites stop fearing him as much. -Not that they ever really did. But he doesn’t know that.- He ruffles kids' hair and walks teenagers home and stays away from his kids. Not that he has any right to call them that, really, because he’s been an unsuitable father to all of them, but he’s selfish, and in the company of his own mind keeps them. An anonymous tip leads him to Bludhaven and he stumbles apon Nightwing. The hero almost trips when he sees him and Bruce flees, leaving the evidence and information on a roof for his son to find. It’s not his case, bludhaven isn’t his place, he has no right to invade dicks place with his own case. He smiles in pride when he reads about Nightwings success, even though he has no right to be proud of the man, since the man became who he is through his own doing, and not because of Bruce. It doesn’t stop him from being proud though. He hears their voices in his head, Jason’s judgment, dicks happy laughter, Tim’s analysis. He almost bolts when a child he’s helping makes a pun. It’s cowardly, he knows, but when a girl trips and falls in a rough neighborhood he drops a hint to oracle and flees, because that flash of blond hair on her head is too much.

Selina finds him in the third month and forces a real meal down his throat. She doesn’t speak, just watches him eat, cradling her own cup of tea, silence deafening. “Why?” She asks finally, and her voice almost breaks. Bruce doesn’t have an answer for her. She leaves, like the others, but returns again, with more food. Her silence is like a brand, but she doesn’t speak either, and demands no more answers from him. He is grateful. And when she drops a stray cat off one time, well, he expected as much. He names the cat Robin, silently, in his mind, and Selina doesn’t give it a name, calling it Kitty or Kitten but letting him keep the name he chose to himself. She demands nothing from him, and Bruce is grateful. It’s a year later when… when he breaks.

“Hey B.'' Bruce stares. He doesn’t blink, doesn't even so much as dare breathe because he knows if he does she’ll fade away, the way she always dies. Stephanie Brown has haunted him from the moment Bruce Wayne had died, watching his every move, critiquing every step he took as Batman and not Bruce. Bruce doesn’t answer, less because he had sworn off speaking and more because he doesn’t know what to say. Stephanie fidgets, a move he’s seen her do countless times, her blond hair tied back half hazardly with a black hair tie. She’s wearing her classic, favorite purple sweater and some tight black jeans, but her boots are the ones Bruce gifted her. Hard, steel toed, and able to combat almost everything. “I uh. I saw the news.” Bruce doesn’t speak. She takes a cautious step forward, hands resting on one of the kitchen chairs, an occupation for her hands so she stops fidgeting, doesn’t show her nerves or tells. Bruce had taught her that.

He doesn’t question how she knows where he lives, or how she got in. She’s far too brilliant for him to even come close with a guess. “So uh, billionaire Bruce Wayne is dead huh?” Her lips twist in a wry grin. Bruce just watches her. She sighs, sliding into the seat, and gestures for him to do the same. Bruce does not, moving around the kitchen to make tea instead, always keeping an eye on her, afraid if he looks away she’ll be gone. But she doesn’t move, watching him with all too knowing eyes, and accepts the mug he sets in front of her with a polite ‘thank you’. Bruce moves away quickly after he sets it down and finally sits across from her, cradling his own cup. Steph holds the mug in both hands but doesn’t drink, staring at the dark brown liquid inside.

“Why did you do it?” She asks finally, raising her head to look at him. He knows the others have told her things, so she doesn’t seem to really be expecting an answer. “Because I bring pain to all those around me.” Bruce rasps, voice hoarse from disuse. Steph blinks in surprise. “And because you would all be much better off without me.” He sips his tea finally, stopping himself from spilling everything to her. Not that he didn’t already. It is, truly, the root of his reasons.

Steph stares at him for a few moments, then roars with laughter. “Better off without you?” She echoes in disbelief, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. “Excuse me??? Have you seen any one of your kids lately?” Bruce blinks. He has not, of course, his goal is to avoid them entirely and then die alone, as he deserves. Steph shakes her head. “They need you Bruce.” Bruce finds that hard to believe, doubts it with every breath he takes even though it hurts to know he is so useless to the brilliant children in his life, but Steph sees the doubt and scoffs, hard and disbelieving and insulting. “Seriously?” Something in her voice softens, a sympathy Bruce is not sure he deserves, and she pulls out her phone, expanding a screen to show him clips of videos. Bruce’s throat gets very tight. They’re videos of his kids, Jason, and Tim and dick and cass, and all of them helping, being the good people he knows they are, but there’s a light missing from dicks eyes, and red hood doesn’t seem to mean his punches, and all of them seem to run slower, looking over their shoulders for someone who isn’t there.

Bruce feels hope glowing in his chest but he squashes it, turning to Steph with a shrug. “They love me. It’s a flaw I’ve never discouraged as much as I should have. It’s likely they need a bit to adapt.” Steph looks at him and her jaw actually drops. “Excuse me?” She hisses, and for the first time since she appeared in his kitchen he can see some of that fire in her eyes that made him make her Robin, and then fire her. “Are you calling our love for you a flaw?!?!?” Her voice is dangerous and Bruce knows nodding is the wrong answer but… but… “I ruin everything Stephanie.” He rasps. Steph shrugs. “You’re human. Well, we think you are. Bruce,” her voice is gentler, and some of the fire dies down, but not fully. “You are not perfect. We do not expect you to be. And sometimes, yeah, we want to strangle you. But that doesn’t mean we don’t want you in our lives. Are you overprotective? Yeah. Do you butt into stuff we don’t want you in? All the time. But there’s ways for you to adapt without- without-“ her arms flail wildly. “Without just leaving us!” Her voice breaks and Bruce is moving before he thinks, grabbing her in a hug. “I’m sorry Stephanie. I’m so sorry. For everything.” He whispers, holding her close. Steph doesn’t fight, just collapses against him, tears staining his suit. “Come back.” She pleads. “Just come home.”

The reunion is tentative, the first dinner bordering on dangerous. The first patrol is easy, surprisingly, everyone falling into place next to each other, communicating with ease as they storm through Gotham. Bruce, because that’s who he is again, looks at them again and again and grins, wide and proud, when he spots the blond hair at his side, when he sees Nightwing and Red Hood working seamlessly side by side. The public is a little uneasy, but more than happy to buy their recovery story and accept their Prince back, but Bruce leaves Tim the company, and stays out of the public eye for a while. He no longer cares what others think of Batman, or Bruce Wayne. Only what his children think. And the pride gleaming in their eyes when Damian comes and Bruce actually gets through to him, makes it all worthwhile.

[sopitadeestrellas]

Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Batfamily Members & Alfred Pennyworth, Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth Additional Tags: Good Parent Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, but as i said hes trying okay, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Good Grandparent Alfred Pennyworth, Good Parent Alfred Pennyworth, Alfred Pennyworth is Bruce Wayne’s Parent, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Good Sibling Tim Drake, Good Sibling Damian Wayne, Jason Todd Calls Bruce Wayne “Dad”, Jason Todd and Bruce Wayne Have a Good Relationship, as good as i can get it to be and its good in chapter two, Hurt/Comfort, no beta we die like jason Series: Part 1 of Batfam fics Summary:

Sometimes is easy to forget that robin, is, as a matter of a fact, a kid, a very tiny diabolical child, but one none the less, and you know what the kids do when they get scared? Call for their parents Unluckily for them, the parent this child cries for is a 6'6 foot tall man that half of Gotham thinks is actually a cryptid, and around the years, the stories of what happens when someone hurts the little birds enough for them to cry for help have become real life horror tells. Because the Bat loves his little birds, and whoever dares hurt them shall not be forgiven unless you are the joker aparently

Or the batkids accidentally find a call that strikes more fear into the goons than the “I am the vengeance, i am the night” discourse.

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based on this post

And it’s finished at last! 

The chapters are in chronological order, except for the last one, that it’s about Bruce and Alfred :D

It’s my best hurt/comfort so far, so, please do enjoy, and come by to tell me what you think, i’d appreciate it!

Again, thank you to @dragonfly0808 for allowing me to use the prompt!

[sopitadeestrellas]

Cuando Draco ve a Harry, solo puede ver a ese pequeño niño de once años con ojos de ciervo escondidos detrás del cristal de sus lentes.

Cuando Harry ve a Draco, solo puede ver a ese chico mayor de diecisiete años con una brillante sonrisa que ocultaban las estrellas del cielo.

Ó

Cuando Harry se enamora de un Draco que es seis años mayor, él buscará encontrar la manera de que este le devuelva su afecto, como Cerineo hizo con Ladón.