#Bruce has three kids attached to each hand

[moonlight-stalker]

# Dcu x Dp 151

Bruce wishes that his children would spend more time with him not realizing that Desiree was nearby. Next thing he knew, he had handcuffs on both hands that are attached to his kids only he seems to have one two many.

[artaxlivs]

Eddie’s sitting in a lounge chair in Steve’s backyard. Well, it’s not a backyard perse, it’s a huge patio with a pool and then a whole fucking forest. Who’s house backs up to the forest? Do the Harrington’s own the forest, too?

Whatever, doesn’t matter. 

He’s sitting in the lounge chair in nothing but cut off shorts and his jewelry, slowly bakng in the sun. What’s left of his beer in it’s sun warmed can is held loosely in one hand when Max plops down in the chair next to him. El gently sits in the same chair as Max and the both stare at Eddie. He doesn’t look at them though.

After thirty seconds, Max asks, “What are you doing?”

“Just wait for it.” Eddie tells her, sipping on his warm beer but not moving his eyes from the poolhouse across the patio.

Both girls look over, shading their eyes with their hands. All three of them wait silently. After another minute or so, the poolhouse door swings open and Steve comes out, pushing something that looks like a vacuum cleaner. He’s wearing his headphones and sort of bouncing to the beat as he drags a big hose part of it over to the pool filter opening thingy. Popping the plastic lid off, Steve kneels down, reaches through the opening for the vacuumy attachment hose he’s holding through the pool side. It looks very complicated and Eddie doesn’t give any fucks about pool cleaning or safety or whatever the fuck is happening there.

What he cares about is all that lovely golden skin on display. Steve’s shirtless, modesty about that hairy chest or those bat bite scars nowhere in sight, wearing swim trunks so short that Eddie can see the little love bite he himself left on the inside of one of those thick thighs this morning. Left it so high that no one else would see it but he’d forgotten that this man is allergic to inseams longer than his pointer finger. 

Steve must get the hose attached because he stands back up, shakes the water off of his hands and gently lowers the pool vacuum into the water, holding the hose thingy as it sinks to the bottom. That done, he dances back into the poolhouse on barefeet, probably listening to fucking Bruce Springsteen or Queen because the guy actually has way more music cred than the kids give him credit for. There’s a click and low drone as he turns the filter on and the vacuum starts to roll around on the bottom of the pool.

Max turns to Eddie and grins. El doesn’t looks away from where Steve has disappeared into the poolhouse. “So we’re ogling Steve.” She says with a wolfish grin. No question. It’s a statement.

“Red!” Eddie sputters, looking away from the poolhouse to give her his best stink eye. “You are children!”

El makes a raspberry noise with her lips and rolls her eyes in a way that looks far too much like Max - or Mike.

Max scoffs, “We’re fifteen, you asshole. Tell us what you were looking at when you were fifteen and we’ll stop.”

Nope. He will not be doing that. No one ever needs to know what young Eddie was using for ....ew he’s not going to think of them doing anything he was doing at fifteen. Gross.

“Mayfield. You’re ruining it. Watch quietly and I won’t tell Steve.”

El grins too this time and settles into a more comfortable position. She and Max share a triumphant look and lean closer together. Probably to whisper to each other where he can’t hear them. Good. Eddie doesn’t want to know.

Steve comes back out, waves at them like the innocent babe that he is and then starts wielding a giant fly swatter - or wait, it’s a pool net. It’s like twelve feet long and Eddie can clearly see the muscles on Steve’s stomach and arms flex as he scoops out leaves and summer bugs from the middle of pool with it. By the time he’s satisfied with the now pristine surface of the pool, there’s a fine sheen of sweat on Steve. If Eddie wasn’t sitting next to two teenage girls, he’d probably be over there by now, climbing Steve like a fucking tree.

Who invited them? Oh wait, they did. Happy fucking summer he guesses.

The captain of the swim team disappears into the poolhouse again and when he comes out this time, he’s got a screwdriver and a lightbulb in his hands for some reason. Setting them on the edge of the pool, he dives in and Eddie was not prepared for that. Steve’s all sleek and long limbed, sunkissed as he barely makes a splash into the pool. When he comes up, he flicks his hair back and swims over to where he left the screwdriver, putting it between his teeth and pushing himself below the surface.

Steve really shouldn’t have let the girls come over to swim today. He should have known what watching this was gonna do to Eddie. Damn him. He hears the girls giggling and sighing as he watches his boyfriend replace the light in the pool underwater. Like, he’s under water the whole time. Jesus, how long can Steve hold his breath for and what else...nope, don’t think about it.

Eddie has zero idea of how much time has passed but eventually Steve gets out of the pool, drags the vacuum thing out - holy wet back muscles Batman - and puts it back in the poolhouse. Dripping and carrying a towel in one hand and his walkman in the other, Steve wanders over to the three of them and then shakes himself like a fucking dog, The girls squeal and Eddie doesn’t because he honestly needed the cool down.

“You guys enjoy the show?” Steve smirks.

Fucking ‘A they did. Thank you very much. Eddie can’t wait to drag Steve inside and ravish him now.

That doesn’t happen. Because the girls, while old enough to thirst after an adult man, are apparently not old enough for Steve to leave alone in the pool for the thirty minutes it would take for him to bend Eddie over his bed and fuck him - honestly they could probably make it happen in fifteen if they tried. So instead, they play babysitters all afternoon and when Hop finally picks the two troublemakers up, Eddie’s too goddamn sunburnt to get laid.

Very gently, Steve rubs aloe into Eddie’s lobster red shoulders and vulnerable spiderweb of scars across his stomach, the tops of his knees and across his nose. “And what did we learn?” Steve snarks at him.

“To put sunscreen on before you take your shirt off.” Eddie replies morosely from where he’s laying on his back on Steve’s cool sheets, staring up at the ceiling and deeply regretting his lack of foresight.

He almost jackknives up when Steve tugs the waistband of his shorts down to expose his still white underbelly and kisses him just above his hairline. “Mmmhhmm, there is one part of you that escaped the mean summer sunshine,” he sucks a bruise into Eddie’s skin where he’d left the kiss, tugging gently to help Eddie out of his scratchy jean cut offs. “And lucky for you, I’m a giver.”

Happy fucking summer indeed.

***That’s all there is of this one but feel free to check out my masterlist of full fics here.  If you’re thirsty for Bottom Eddie being feral over Steve, Drummer Steve is the one I suggest. If you’re looking for kinky & clueless Top Eddie then An Accidental Flogging is probably more your thing. Happy reading!

[bailesona]

TIME TO TELL U WHAT EACH MUSE DRESSES UP AS:

stanley:     he dresses up as shrek, and has spent literal decades of his marriage with richard trying to convince him to dress up as fiona or donkey to match with him.

richard:     this year he’s dressing up as the hulk. past halloween outings have seen him dress up as gandalf (when stanley described fiona as having long hair) anger from inside out (when stanley described fiona as being a redhead) daredevil (when stanley described fiona’s ass-kicking techniques) and leia from star wars (when stanley described fiona as being a princess with great authority and agency).

sammy:     sammy’s going for a pirate vibe this year. aisling has had to take three bottles of rum, a cutlass and five tobacco pipes off of him so far, but has yet to discover that the hook over his right hand is not plastic nor fake.

leo:     elizabeth swann. he’s taking great delight in rocking a corset and historically accurate dress, and even spent five hours in a hair salon getting his hair done in ringlets. and he looks FANTASTIC--

renée:     katniss everdeen. a special jar has been dedicated to receive five dollars every time someone asks if she’s hawkeye. so far, it contains $475 dollars. she intends to take everyone out for dinner once the shift is over.

henri:     mary berry. he lost a bet with etienne, and now he has to take a shot every time someone mentions a soggy bottom. but he’s rocking the lemon yellow sweater and pearl necklace like a true king.

etienne:     thor. tina helped him get a red blanket to look like his cloak, and several pie plates as the armor. he takes great delight in serving baskets of lightning fries. nobody else is allowed to serve them. only etienne.

nate:     he insists he isn’t dressing up, but with the striped sweater and red hat, he’s wally from “where’s wally”. he doesn’t want to be. but he is. 

ramsay gordon (NEW MUSE!):     he’s wearing black trousers and a black sweater, and grudgingly allows tina and tim to paint a white skeleton over him in indelible white paint on his designer clothes. he’s mildly annoyed until he sees henri. then he feels infinitely happier with his sentence.

and now for the foster kids!

tina:     doctor strange, but it’s like, medical student strange. so she’s got the cloak, but she’s put wires in the hem of it so that it’s holding a can of red bull and a burrito, and she’s got a pen behind her ear and five different notebooks under her arm. she’s absolutely loving it. as she should.

tim:     a vampire. but after a few twilight jokes and exactly zero references to what we do in the shadows, he just sits in the kitchen and chats with mary “henri” berry while he bakes pumpkin pies for the halloween party.

eli:     after a lengthy discussion with tina, he follows in a similar vein. batman, but if batman/bruce wayne hadn’t been a billionaire. he goes around on a scooter that he made black with duct tape, the bat ears are two pairs of socks stuck on with tape to a ski-mask, and his cloak is a black towel over an old sweater belonging to stanley and some black yoga pants he borrowed from aisling.

victor:     poison ivy. he has so much fun with it, too, like he uses real vines and plants and attaches them carefully to his green t-shirt and chinos, and he even gets green contact lenses, like he goes all out for it.

andrew jenkins (NEW MUSE!):     andrew dresses as a bat, using a broken umbrella to make the wings. some say he should’ve dressed as kaz bre.kker from the grishaverse books, but he doesn’t see it.

carrie white (NEW MUSE!):     she’s going as bob ross, bc i feel like painting is gonna be her therapeutic activity and like, lbr, aisling loves watching the bob ross videos, and she definitely gets carrie into them too.

[marvelslut16]

The one with two Pietro’s

Pairing: Pietro x reader, Wandavision!Pietro (Peter Maximoff) x reader FORCED 

Synopsis: you find yourself in Westview living with Wanda, Vision, the boys, and your boyfriend Pietro. But happens when you start to remember your Pietro and figure out what Wanda’s doing to you and everyone else? 

Word count: 1.4k+

Warnings: Swearing I think. Angst. Fluff if you squint. Mind control. Forced relationship. Briefly mentions the idea of a forced magical pregnancy. Bullet wounds. Death. Grief I suppose. Mentions pmsing. The over use of italics. Kinda feel like I make Wanda a psychotic asshole. SPOILERS FOR WANDAVISION!

A/N: This was so much fun to write! Probably the darkest thing I’ve ever written, if you can really call it dark. Writing for Wandavision was a fun little challenge. Takes place in the 90′s so my title is a reference to friends, and so is a tv show character I use in the one shot. Pretend Evan Peters’ hair isn’t that blonde cause I will always see him with the silver he has in xmen and wrote him as such. 

"Vision, that's not my Pietro," you mutter in horror to your friend as the two of you stand in the kitchen. 

You’re not quite sure what makes you say it, but you’re glad you do when you glance at the new Pietro in the living room, he's been playing video games with Tommy and Billy for close to an hour now. He's sweet and funny, but he's just not your Pietro.

"I'm afraid not, (Y/N)," Vision's voice is sullen, but he's glad you're not in on Wanda's mind games. Unless you are, and this is just another way for Wanda to mess with him. He’s not quite sure what’s happening, but he knows from what you’ve reminisced in passing to him about Pietro on nights when Wanda isn’t in the room, that that’s not the Pietro you know and love. 

"Oh my god," you murmur, hand coming to your mouth as little bits and pieces of memories race through your head. The genuine pain, horror, and sadness that cross your face make it obvious to Vision you're being manipulated like everyone else, even if you are Wanda's oldest friend. "My Pietro, he had an accent."

Your knees buckle when you hear his native accent saying his catchphrase in your head, 'you didn't see that coming.' Vision rushes to your side to help you stand more firmly.

"His face was longer, hair a white blonde not silver, his body more toned, and he had gorgeous blue eyes- bluest eyes I've ever seen," you grip onto Vision's arms as you imagine moments with your Pietro.

You grew up in the cell beside his and Wanda's, immediately forming a sisterly connection with her at a young age while Pietro hated you. He would tease you, pull on your pigtails, and steal some of your food on the off chance you three were eating outside of your cells. Over the years the teasing turned to flirting, and your dislike for him turned into a huge crush.

One night-a night you can normally remember with full clarity- after Hydra fell and before Ultron, the two of you were out on a walk, much to Pietro's chagrin. You were telling him about this new book that you were reading and how the characters annoyed you so because they were obviously in love but wouldn't admit it. Pietro zoomed in front of you, causing you to smack into his chest and almost fall to the ground, you would have if not for Pietro's arms wrapping around your waist and bringing you close to his toned chest.

The wind was blowing his hair into his eyes ever so slightly, so without thinking you reached up to move it out of his face and away from his eye. The small act of tenderness that you had displayed caused Pietro to give into his desires, he leaned in and his wind chapped lips descended onto yours. You melted into the kiss, clinging tightly to his biceps to ground you. One of his hands slipped down from your waist to squeeze your ass, the other wrapped more tightly around your waist and kept you anchored to him.

"I love you, Printesa, I have since we were kids," he admits when you pull apart for air, leaning his forehead on yours.

"I love you too, Quicksilver," you use the superhero nickname he gave himself when you were twelve. He grins before attaching his lips to yours once more, it was an unforgettable kiss that filled you with warmth and hope for your future.

"(Y/N), are you okay?" Vision's voice brings you back to reality, or whatever this is.

"No," your voice cracks as you remember the last kiss Pietro planted on your lips, right before he protected Clint. The memory that still haunts your dreams, seeing him with all those bullet holes and knowing there was nothing you could do to save him. "What kind of person forgets the love of their life? I'm a terrible person Vis!"

"No you aren't (Y/N)," the sincerity in Vision's voice makes you really believe him. "Wanda's doing this, she didn't want you to remember."

You gasp as another memory floods your mind. You had agreed to go on a road trip with Wanda after being resurrected from Bruce's snap and defeating Thanos. You both wanted a break, or so you thought.

Wanda had stopped right when you had passed the entrance into Westview, she claimed to be checking her directions when you asked why she had stopped in the middle of nowhere. And no matter how weird it was that she chose to stop at the border to the town and not at a gas station, you believed your best friend and sister in law because she had no reason to lie to you.

A moment later her eyes and hands were glowing red as she touched your temple. She pushed all your memories behind a wall in your brain, then filled your head with memories of a happy life with her and Vision in Westview.

She did it again when 'Pietro' showed up on your guy’s doorstep, this time filling your head with memories of him. Memories of a different first kiss, but an eerily similar first date to the one you and your Pietro had. It makes sense to you now, you and Pietro had never told Wanda the real story of your first kiss, instead telling her you had it weeks later on your first date. You had tried to keep your relationship a secret for a little because you didn't want to make it awkward for Wanda if it didn't work out.

Another thing she didn't add was your engagement and subsequent marriage to her brother. In this reality you and 'Pietro' are just dating. You have to assume that it's because it happened weeks before the battle against Ultron and she doesn't want to remember anything that close to her brother's death.

The thing about the new Pietro is that he seems to rub Wanda the wrong way, something your Pietro never did. He makes comments that you know yours would never, and Wanda always tenses up near him. This Pietro likes to show you off more than yours did, which is saying a lot because your’s used to cling to your side, praise you, and show you off in town when girls would flirt with him. Every time this Pietro kisses you it doesn’t feel right, it’s nowhere near the earth shattering kisses that you had somehow managed to remember from the deep parts of your brain. 

"My ring," you shudder in horror when you realize the diamond ring that your Pietro stole from the jeweler in Sokovia is no longer sitting delicately on your left ring finger like it was before entering Westview. You hastily search your body for your most prized possession, sighing in relief when you find it hanging from a simple silver chain around your neck.

"(Y/N)," Vision says gently, resting a hand on your shoulder, it’s one of the few times he doesn’t know what to say. 

"He's dead," you cry, knees buckling under your weight again. This time you catch yourself on the kitchen table, before sinking in the seat to your right.

"Who's dead?" Wanda appears in the doorway out of nowhere. She has an innocent, concerned expression on her face, but the tilt of her head tells you she'll come take your memories away again if you slip up in the slightest.

"Dr. Drake Ramoray on Days Of Our Lives, the soap opera I was watching this afternoon when you and the boys were out. He fell down the elevator shaft, and I'm apparently taking it harder than I thought I would. I must be pmsing or something."

"Or maybe you're pregnant," there's a red glint in her eyes that scares you to no end.

"Oh," you swallow the lump in your throat, and hold back the bile rising up your throat from anxiety. "I don't think so, I'm not ready to be a mother yet."

"It would be so fun though," 'Pietro' zooms behind your seat, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek. "Little mini me's and you's running around the house with Billy and Tommy."

"I think two super human children are enough for the house right now," you let out an uncomfortable giggle. You and Vision side eye each other, both very aware that you'll probably be as pregnant as Wanda was a few days ago within the week.

[coollemonsaresour]

Promising Hands

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Child reader x Romanrogers  

Warnings: blood, Injured child, violence, angst, but fluff. THIS SUCKS, it was a rush job, and is not edited 

Summary: One Red-head Russian, One Cool Ranch Dorito, and a mission that can change their lives forever.

Word count :1458

A/N:  Spare me I have not written in awhile.  this has been in my drafts i have just be to S H Y to post them. oh, and request are open.

Request?: NAH!!!!!!!!!!! DIS WAS ALLLLLL MEH .  Spare me i have not written in  awhile. 

“Steve this floor is clear, I'm moving to  Sub-level one.” The Russian spy said, pressing and releasing the button on her earpiece. “Okay, be careful.” She then rolled her eyes with a scoffed and pressed her earpiece. “When am I not?” She said, continuing down the flight of stairs. “I can think of a couple of times,” he said in a seductive voice. “You know what Rogers, I have work to do, you should do the same. “Whatever you say” she then turned “Mmhmm'' she said with her guns raised starting down a hallway. She then came in contact with two hydra agents but shot them down effortlessly, each three times. Head. Chest.Stomach. She then saw a light flicker in a room down the hallway with its’ door cracked open.

 She walked down the hallway and pushed the door open with her gun ready for any danger. The room looked like a messy lab, things were everywhere, the computers were destroyed, chemicals and serums spilled on the table as if they were in a rush. 

 An agent then came behind her and wrapped his arms around her neck, making her drop her gun. Nat countered by elbowing him in his face and then kicking him in his chest through a glass table, then grabbed her gun. When he attempted to get up she shot him twice in the stomach. 

She then heard a gasp and snapped her attention toward the sound raising her gun once more. She then slowly proceeds toward the table. She leaned over the table and looked under it to see a little girl about 3 or 4 with her knees curled up to her chest and her head buried in her crossed arms. 

 “Hello,” Natasha said in a calm and friendly tone, which is very unlikely for this assassin. The child then looked up and flinched trying to scoot back farther. When she backed against the wall, she snapped her focus back at the women. 

 Her e/c eyes were met with fiery red hair and emerald green eyes, which were comforting. She gasped when she saw Nat’s gun. “H-hey, it’s’ okay, I won’t hurt you,” Nat said, putting her gun into the holster.  “What is your name?” She asked the girl “Y/n” the child responded barely above a whisper.”That is a beautiful name, I’m Natasha, now let's get you somewhere safe.” 

 “N-no more b-bad people?” The little girl asked, voice is full of insecurity. “No more bad people,” Nat said reassuringly. “You promise?” “I promise” “How can I trust you?” “We promise to protect you from bad men always, and if you give me your hand I promise to never let it go, Okay?” “Okay,”  

At the moment, Nat knew that she was immediately attached to the wounded girl. What wounded girl!?! Nat was too distracted by the girl to realize the blood-soaked shirt and the growing crimson pool around the girl. Without hesitation, Nat grabbed the little girl and rushed out of the room.  “ Hey Steve I found Hydra’s project and she needs medical help.” “She?... It’s a person?” “Yes and she needs medical evac, keep up Steve.”  

The little girl wrapped her arms around Nat’s neck and her legs and her waist. When they got outside the little girl buried her face in Nat’s neck to avoid the blinding light in the sky that was unknown to her, Nat could help but think of how cute the sight was.  

Nat felt the body go limp and started to run faster. When she reached the quinjet, Nat carefully laid the unconscious girl on the floor and then examined the little body. The little girls were very pale, hardly breathing, and had lost a lot of blood, multiple cut wounds, a very big and deep stab wound. It looked like someone tried to kill her, in the mist of their base being invaded.

 Nat found a cloth and started applying pressure while Steve flew the jet as fast as he could. With one hand Nat tried to stop the bleeding, and in the other she held the child’s hand, keeping her promise.  

 When they arrived, Nat ran with the little girl straight to med bey, there she found Bruce, who was talking to Dr.Cho. “Hey Na- who is that?” he asked immediately getting a gurney. “Hydra’s project, and she needs help,” Nat stated, placing the girl on the bed, still holding her hand. “Bruce, help her please, she stopped breathing like a couple of seconds ago.” she said still holding the girl’s hand, following the gurney down the hall toward the O.R. when they reached the doors of the room nat was stopped by a nurse, the sudden action causing her to let go of the girl's hand.    

“ No I have to stay with her.” she said, trying to push past the doctor.“ Ma’am you should let the doctors do their work.” the nurse said, trying to block the doorway. Nat was getting angry, and trust me you do not want to make Natasha Romanoff, aka the Black Widow angry. “ No she needs me. I have-,” “Ma’am, please, listen to me-” “ NO! You listen to m-” “ Sorry nurse, I’ll take it from here” Steve said, cutting off Natasha and pushing her away from the door  to a wall in the hallway.   

“Steve, babe, no, I-i h-have to be in there, I-i need, i need to hold her hand,” Steve looked at her with a sad expression “She was scared, and I know what it is like at that age, when your in a situation you don’t want to,  a-and have horrible people do bad things to you and make you do bad, bad things.” she stated with worry.  

Steve gave her a small smile and then pulled her into a hug. He knew that she was referencing the red room, and how she hated what they did to kids at such a young age and how it was scarring. “Nat, everything will be fine,” he said, stroking her hair, all she did in response was give a nod. “Why don’t you go take a shower and get something to eat and come back down, and I will be here when they finish with her in the recovery room.” he said pulling away from the hug, she just nodded again and walked down the hall.   

When Nat came back down to MedBay, (y/n) was out of o.r., and in recovery. She walked into the room to see the girl connect to all different monitors, an IV, and a breathing tube in her nose. Steve was asleep on the armchair next to the bed with one of his hands resting on top of one of the girl’s. That made Nat smile softly. 

 She was walking around the room reading Bruce's analysis, and that's when Steve woke up. “You look refreshed” he said stretching, his voice still groggy.  “Yeah after showers, eating, and debrief, I was really tired, and took a cat nap,” she said, kissing his forehead. “How’s she doing?” Nat said, holding the girl's other hand. “M’kay, but my tummy hurts.” the girl said with a small smile, Nat and Steven happily returning  it.  

That a was 4 and half months ago 

 Y/n woke up in a cold sweat, breathing heavy, and tears streaming down you  face. A bad dream. The small girl got out of bed and walked down the hall.  Three doors down, make a left, first door on the right.   

Being the trained ex-assassin/spy she is, as soon at the door opens she lifted her head to see who it was. “Y/n, hun, why are you up?” she said concern taking over her face.  “I had a bad dream” she whispered.  “M’sorry babes, do you want to sleep with me and daddy,” she asked giving the little girl grabby hands. The girl gave a small smile, and nodded her head, walked over to Nat’s side of the bed and climbed in. the girl got under the blankets and and cuddle closer to Nat and she held you tight, and buried your face in her chest.   

“я люблю тебя, детка” she planting a kiss to the girls forehead. “I love you too mama” the girl replied with a small yawn. Steve then rolled over, moving closer to the pair, wrapping a protective arm around Natasha and y/n.“ I love you y/n/n” he said. “I love you too daddy.” “My two favorite girls,” “Good night babe” he said to the redhead, giving her a kiss. “Good night baby.” she said, returning the kiss. “Good night y/n” they said at the same time, kissing your head. “Good night”. 

я люблю тебя, детка~ I love you Baby

FIN                                                

[shyestofhearts]

Don’t mind me, I’m just imagining Baby Dami meeting Baby Jon, and then Baby Jon crying whenever Dami isn’t in his line of sight, bc he’s already attached to him and him accidentally having his powers activated early because he accidentally flew to Gotham to see Dami

(I made an attempt of humor with a prompt, if it seemed rude, very sorry. But otherwise, headcanons galore pls!)

(You didn't come across rude at all I love this prompt immensely thank you!!)

Bruce was worried about socializing Damian with kids his age

Because the 3 year old so far only interacted with his older siblings, Bruce, and Alfred

So he and Clark arranged a play date between Damian and Jon in the hopes it benefits both toddlers

So Clark and Jon arrive, and Damian stares at Jon for a long time, hiding behind Bruce's leg

His stare is verging on glare territory but it's not quite there yet

Then Jon smiles at Damian, a great big beaming grin as Jon babbles something unintelligible

And Damian steps out from behind his father's leg and babbles back and the two are instant friends much to their fathers' surprise

Damian tells Jon all about his animal friends and Jon tells Damian all about his

And then they start talking about other interests like superheroes and children's TV shows and movies etc etc

A very successful playdate over all

And then it's time to go home and Clark picks Jon up and walks to the door

And Jon BURSTS into tears and Damian is sniffling, trying not to cry while he glares at Clark with all the animosity a three year old can muster

And Bruce and Clark realize what they've just done to themselves

They try to soothe the kids to no avail so Bruce has to hold Damian while Clark takes a crying Jon home

And then for the next week all the boys say is "when's Jon coming back?" Or "where's my Dami?"

Oh dear

So when the week passes and they don't see each other. Well. Jon takes things into his own hands

Bruce comes back to find Damian and Jon playing while Damian's siblings supervise

They'd all assumed Bruce planned it and forgot to warn them when they all came down to find the boys already together

Bruce calls Clark like "how could you just drop your boy off with no warning!?"

To which he gets a very panicked and yet relieved "JON'S WITH YOU?"

And Bruce is immediately sympathetic because it's the same tone Bruce normally has when someone finds Damian after the toddler's successful escape attempts

And that's how everyone learned Jon could fly

[raineydays411]

The best of friends

Peter Parker x Stark! reader

A/n: Hello! So this time the reader is going to be black! If y’all wanna like...request for a reader to be an ethnicity or race you can, I’ll do my best to write for it 💕

Summary: Peter Parker is your best friend. In fact he’s one of your only friends. So it’s needless to say things get a little complicated when you fall in love with him and he’s in love with another girl. 

Warning ⚠️: Oblivious Peter, sad reader, love triangles

This fic was inspired by @cherrytholland and their silence series, YALL need to check it out!

You never had many friends. It’s alway been that way, ever since you remembered. 

Being a Stark meant that you were constantly in danger, especially after your dad became Iron Man. So you were homeschooled. It was pretty easy, ever since the Avengers moved in, Bruce and Tony took turns teaching you everything you needed to know. So there was no need for you to go to school.

But you were lonely. Yes, you were surrounded by the team, but they were all so much older than you. Wanda and Pietro were the only ones closest to your age not only were they still way older than you, they hated your dad for a long time so there was a small tension there. 

You spent time with your dad, hell he was your best friend, but a girl can only spend so much time with her father. Bruce was too scared to hang out with you. Steve treated you like a toddler. Sam and Bucky were fun to be with but then Steve will join and then they all act as if you’re a baby. Natasha is great to go to for advice but she rarely had time to talk with you, Clint was a whole father. And Thor, he was hardly on earth. 

That's when Peter Parker came into your life. He was the first person on the team who was your age. You and he quickly became friends, bonding over your shared interests in Star Wars and being the youngest in the Avengers HQ. 

When you first met him, you were really shy. As said before, you rarely had the chance to talk to anyone your age. If you did, it was most likely the child of another business owner at some fancy party. So becoming friends with Peter was definitely an experience. You remember the day you two became friends.

**Flashback**

You really weren’t expecting to meet Peter. Hell, you didn’t even know that he was supposed to be coming over. So,when you walked into the common room, wearing someone else’s tee shirt and a bonnet, you were shocked to see a boy next to your dad staring at you.

“Oh, Y/n! I may have forgotten to mention I was showing Peter around...” Tony said as he noticed you were sort of unprepared for a visitor.

“ yeah that would have been good to know” you say glaring at your father.

“Well then, Peter this is my daughter Y/n, Y/n this is Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man”

“H-hi! It’s nice to meet you!” Peter stuttered as he put out his hand. You smiled shyly as you took it

“It’s nice to meet you too” you said quietly, taking your hand back and looking at the floor. An awkward silence fell upon you three. Then Tony cleared his throat

“I’m gonna ignore that little awkward thing. Y/n!” He looks at you with a gleam in his eye, “Maybe you can show the kid around, it would be nice if you knew someone your age.”

“DAD!” You shout, embarrassed he basically set you up on a play date, “ I talk people my own age!”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “ Talking to those Gothamites during galas doesn’t count.”

“We follow each other on Instagram!”

“Wow, that’s the pinnacle of friendship.” Tony replied sarcastically, “ show the kid around.” 

You sigh as you turn to Peter, who was standing a few feet away awkwardly listening to you and your dad squabble.

“ Alright web head, let’s go”

He looks at Tony, slightly fearful. But Tony only smiles and says, “ Aw a nickname, see Peter she does like you.” Then walks away, leaving you two alone.

Flashback ends ****

Who knew that from that awkward interaction, a beautiful friendship would blossom??

From then on, you and Peter were practically attached by the hip. Every day after patrol, Peter would come over and hang out with you. Whether you’re watching movies, playing video games, or cranking the other Avengers, you and Peter could always be found together. He truly became your one best friend.

Until it became more.

The light hugs he’d give you when he first saw you started to linger, you both sat closer when you were watching movies (practically cuddling), he’d fall asleep on you lap when you stroked his hair.

All this but you both still held on to the notion that you just friends. Well, Peter did.

You were really unexperienced when it came to stuff like this.  This was the first time you ever had a friend, let alone have a crush. It was easier for you to ignore these intimate moments and cling onto the idea that it was just platonic. And you did, up until your dad had the wonderful idea to invite Peters class on a tour of the Tower.

At first you really didn’t have an opinion.

If anything, you were indifferent to the idea of your home being swarmed by teenagers. It didn’t help that Steve convinced your dad that you should be present during the tour. Claiming that “ it’d be good for her to meet more kids her age instead of just Peter.”

Honestly, you had other friends! They just lived in a different city and you rarely talked.

But there you were, standing beside Bucky as your dad went on about the compound and all the nerdy science stuff. You weren’t really paying attention, you had some AirPods in. It wasn’t until Bucky nudged you when you realized that your dad was calling you.

“ Come on up kiddo” he said giving you that Dad™️ stare.

You grin at him, then glare at Bucky as he snickers into his shoulder. You make your way up to where your dad is in the front of the crowd.

“ What am I supposed to be doing” you whisper to your dad. He rolls his eyes and whispers back “ Introduction and answer some questions”

You gulp, you were always good at public speaking . You were a Stark, of course you were. But introducing yourself to your fathers business partners and introducing yourself to your peers was two different things. You eyed the crowd trying to find Peter, you found him next to a chubby boy with an awestruck look on his face and a rather pretty girl who looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here. When you made eye contact with him, he smiled and threw you a thumbs up.

That simple gesture give you all the confidence you needed to introduce yourself

“ Hi, I’m Y/n Stark. I’m seventeen years old and I live here with my dad and the team. Obviously” you say, a slight smile on your face. “ I guess I have to answer questions. But I’m not sure cause I wasn’t paying attention”

The group laughs and a few hands raise, the questions are basic “ what’s it like living with avengers?” “ Where do you go to school?” “Are you single?” Etc etc. After answering, the rest of the team introduced themselves and then split the kids into groups for the tour. You looked for the group Peter was in, finally finding him in Sam and Bucky group. You sneak away from your fathers side and skip up behind the duo. You watch them bicker over where to take their group.

“ What about the gym ?” You say, startling the two men.

“Jesus!!” “Shit!!”

You laugh, watching them dramatically clench their chest. “You’d think as highly trained soldiers you’d be more aware of your surroundings.”

“ haha.” Sam says, “ just for that you’re not allowed to be part of our group”

“ I’ll just find a way to sneak in.” You say with a grin. They roll their eyes and lead the group to the gym. You stay in place as you wait for Peter to walk by. As he does you saddle up next to him.

“Hey web slinger” you whisper in his ear. He jumps at your voice.

“Y/n??!” His voice cracks, “ don’t do that!!”

“Aw come on Pete!” You laugh, “ don’t be such a wuss!”

Then the boy next to him turns, The awestruck look back on his face

“ Your..your Y/n Stark ” he says wide eyed. You smile shyly as you turn to him, remembering where you were.

“ hi, you must be Ned. Peters told me a lot about you” you say in a low voice.

“ Peter talks to you about me” he says in a surprised voice.

“Yeah! It’s really awesome to finally meet you.” 

“ Are you two coming?” Another voice chimes in. You turn to see the pretty girl with a bored expression.

“ Oh, hey” she says noticing you, “ I’m Michelle Jones, but just call me MJ”

“Y/n Stark” you say with a smile. She nods at you and then turns to Peter and Ned.

“ Come on you two, Liz is asking where you are”

“ Liz is asking about me??” Peter says, his face turning red, “ what did she say? Did she mention my name?!”

You watch him in confusion. He never acted like this except when Natasha called him handsome that one time. Then again, if Natasha called you pretty you’d freak out as well.

MJ rolls her eyes and ignored his questions, “ So you live here?” She asks you. Her question startled you as you weren’t expecting to be talked to.

“ Ye-yeah. I’ve been with my dad since I was about two.” You stuttered.

“That’s cool!! What about your mom?” Ned asks.

You smile sadly, “ I don’t know, she’s not around much.” Sensing your sadness, Peter wrapped in arm around you.

“ Cone on guys, quit it with the questions.”

Ned looks at you apologetic and Mj looks away. Then a pretty girl walks up to your group.

“ There you are. Come on you guys, you’re not supposed to split from the group.”

Peter pulls his arm back immediately at her presence. His eyes glaze over as he looks at her with a gaze you can only describe as dreamy.

“He-hey!! Sorry Liz, guess we lost track of time..heh” He rubs the back of his neck as his face turns red. His body tensed up in anxiety but at the same time is slouched. He has a goofy grin that you’ve never ever seen before.

Seeing Peter act so differently around this girl made you feel weird. Your hands were sweaty and your chest filled with anxiety. You felt cold and hit at the same time. There was a sick feeling in your stomach.

“Are you okay?” Mj asked looking at you in concerned.

You were frowning. Ned looked at you with wide eyes “ I’m sorry about mentioning your mom! I really didn’t mean to upset you.” 

You turn to him and smile at his concern for you. “ Don’t worry about it, you didn’t know” you frown again looking at Peter walking with Liz, “ Soo, who’s that?”

“ Oh that’s Liz Allen. Peters been in love with her since like freshman year”

Your heart drops and that sick feelings return. “ Oh really?”

“Yeah, I am surprised you don’t know who that is Peter hasn’t stopped yapping about hersince freshman year.” MJ says rolling her eyes.

“ Peters never mentioned her. Just Ned and you.” You say. MJ hums at that.

“ Thats funny, Peter doesn’t talk about his internship too much. we didn’t even know you two were friends until today.”

Well, if you weren’t hurt before, now you were in absolute pain.

“Oh..really?” You ask, “ it’s probably because I hardly leave the HQ. Peter is the first friend I have here in the city.” You tried to reason, but you didn’t even convince yourself.

Ned and MJ look at you in shock, but before they can say anything Peter comes back to the group.

“ Hey guys! Liz just agreed to hangout with us this weekend!” He says to Ned and MJ, his back turned to you. You’re shocked because you were supposed to go shopping with Peter this weekend.

“ Since when were we hanging out this weekend??”  Mj asks confused with the sudden plans.

“ well...Liz was supposed to go shopping with her friends but they have plans this weekend, and she was really bummed out about it so I said she can hang out with us...” he says quickly.

“ but I thought we were going shopping..” you finally say. Peter jumps and looks at you as if he’s realizing you were there.

“ Oh crap! Y/n I’m so sorry! I completely got caught up with everything!” He apologizes, “ Hey! Why don’t you come with us! You can get to know Ned and MJ some more, and Mr. Stark and Cap will get off your back about talking to people your age”

“ That sound fun!” Ned exclaimed

“ I guess I have nothing better to do” Mj says

You want to decline at first, upset that he forgot about the plans he made with you and you didn’t really want to see him flirt with Liz. But he was looking at you with those brown eyes you love, so you couldn’t say no.

“ sure, I can’t wait..”

You smile weakly. Already dreading the upcoming weekend.

[mcufox123]

Soul Mates

Summary: What happens when there are actual soul mates in the world? Is Wanda yours?

A/N: ok this story gave me such chills and I’m really proud of it. Please enjoy!

Warnings: Injuries, implications of smut

I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS

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Soul mates, they exist. You are born with a mark on your skin. If you date someone, the mark will go away when you both fall in love with each other, and they touch your skin. Like you could be in a relationship and touch each other but the mark will go away only when you both love each other. It drove most of your relationships. So many times, you wanted to find your soul mate, but it never worked out. Your mark always confused you. It was two hands together on your stomach. What would you and your soul mate be doing? Where would your mark be on them?

After a while you gave up on ever trying to find them. You didn’t care anymore. You focused on work. You had been an undercover agent for Tony Stark, investigating different targets before the avengers would go and save the day. You lived with Earth’s mightiest heroes, who at home they were far more different than anyone would expect.

Bruce was a geek, Natasha was like the mother hen, Steve was a wood worker, Tony a family man, Bucky and Sam would play video games, and Wanda loved sitcoms. Don’t get me wrong, they of course trained and ate healthy and did mission recon, but other than that they were normal people.

When you first started living there it was weird for you to see everyone in sweatpants, but you quickly got used to it. You spent time with almost everyone, mostly Wanda though. You two quickly entered a relationship a few short months after you started living there. You even moved into her room. A couple months into your relationship you knew you loved her, but you would never dare say it. You always remembered the conversation you had with her about soul mates.

“Do you believe in the whole soul mates mark?” you asked the closed off girl in your arms.

“I believe they do. I never want to know who mine is though. I lost too many people Y/N. I don’t think I could know that and be ok if I ever lost them.” She answered while playing with your hands.

“That’s fair, I guess. What would you do if you found them though?” you asked her. You were nervous because you wanted Wanda to be your soul mate and you kept waiting for her to touch your mark, but she never did.

“I’m not sure. Maybe put them in a bubble only I could reach and never let them go.” She said in an amusing voice and you knew the conversation was coming to a close.

“I’m sure that would not go over well.” You chuckled. There were a few moments of silence, she was just drawing random shapes on your shoulder, head against your chest.

“Don’t wait for me Y/N. If you want to find your soul mate, go find them.” She said with hurt in her voice. You could tell she didn’t want you to go.

“I’m right here Wanda, don’t worry.” You reassured her before you both were silent again. Eventually you both fell asleep.

That happened only a couple weeks before the mission you were about to go on. Tony had found an undercover S.H.I.E.L.D. facility that was now operating with Hydra. You had “applied” for a job there and quickly made your way up the ranks. It was now time for you to report to their office to help them continue following Hydra’s plan. You walked out to the car you would be driving in for the mission. Wanda followed you out.

“Please be careful out there, Y/N. Take care of you. No one else matters. Just you. Come back to me quickly.” Wanda said walking next to you.

“I always do babe. I promise, I’ll be back, as fast as I can.” You wanted to add that you loved her but knew now wasn’t the time. Your soul mate’s conversation still lingering in your head. You leaned in a gave her one last kiss before getting in the car to drive to your mission.

The drive to the mission wasn’t too bad, only like 4 hours which is short compared to other cross-country ones that you have done. Just like you planned you fit right in with the agents. You put on this very charismatic façade gaining their trust in a week’s time.

“I think it’s time you met the boss kid.” Agent Gerald said to you as he led you down a series of hallways. You tried to mentally track your path so you would be able to show your friends but there were more hallways than you could’ve imagined. A tactic they must have used to catch fake agents like yourself.

Once arriving to a big room, you met Frank the head honcho. He was a small man, nothing you would’ve expected from someone leading such a complicated organization. He looked up and smiled.

“So, this is agent Reilly? I’ve heard great things about you.” He said referring to your undercover name. He reached out to shake your hand.

“You must be Frank. I’ve heard some scary things about you.” You said testing the waters of the old man, hoping he would see it as a friendly interaction. Which thank goodness he did. He pulled you into his side while pointing at you and looking at Gerald. “I like this one, she’ll be just the person I need for the job.”

Frank had a plan. This made you nervous, what would he have you be doing? You had to get the team here right away. After the pleasantries of meeting Frank, you were excused until tomorrow when he would let you know what you would be doing.

You however couldn’t wait that long and as soon as you got to your hotel room you called the team.

“Tony, I need you guys here ASAP. I know who the head guy is. Its Frank Randone, Fury’s old partner. I met him today I know where he’s hiding, he has a mission for me which he’s going to give me tomorrow.” You rambled on quickly.

“Ok, we’ll be there in an hour and we’ll devise a plan when we get there. Just be careful and stay put.” He told you in a fatherly way. You rolled your eyes even though you knew he couldn’t see it.

Not even an hour later you heard a knock on the door. You opened it to see your modge podge family. They all looked kind of out of it as they piled in your room. You knew it was because they got called here so quickly on such short notice.

The plan was that you would go into the facility tomorrow and go see Frank for your mission. You would have the tracker com in your ear so the team could both track your movement and hear you and what you heard at the same time. After you received the mission, you would leave the facility to meet your friends and help them defeat Frank.

After the mission was planned everybody left besides Wanda. You were exhausted from the day you just had and anxious about the following day. Wanda changed into some sweatpants and grabbed your sweatshirt before crawling into bed. She rubbed your back as you sat on the edge of the bed a million thoughts running through your head. She sat up and hugged you from behind.

“Come cuddle with me please, this week has been too long without you.” She whispered in your ear. You turned back to look at her in the eyes. You saw her looking at you with so much emotion. You leaned in to kiss her which quickly got heated.

If it had been a chaste kiss, it was almost as if she was going to say those three little words, she didn’t though, instead you had a heated night. You both fell asleep in the comfort of each other’s arms.

The next morning you peeled yourself from Wanda’s arms to get ready for the day. You were too nervous to eat or do much, but you had to get the com ready and online and dressed. Wanda was still sleeping when you were about to leave so you walked over to kiss her forehead. Before you could pull away you felt a hand come up to your neck and hold you there. You looked down to see emerald eyes staring back at you.

“Be careful, please. I need you to come back to me.” She said. Your only answer was a chaste kiss before pulling away.

“I promise.” And with that you walked out of the room and drove to the facility.

Once you got there you were immediately taken to Frank. You were grateful that you didn’t have to remember the hallways with the tracking com. Once you arrived at the room you instantly felt a sense of panic though.

“Agent Reilly just in time! I brought your mission in for you to complete it right now, so I know you are worthy of the position I am about to offer and that you are loyal to this organization.” He said with a creepy grin before he continued. “The world is lost, the only people who seem to have it all together are the avengers. That can’t be, we need them to be in array as well. I have captured the founder and his right-hand man, or women I should say. They will be here any minute.” He walked towards you holding a gun. You suddenly were very nervous; you had an idea of who it would be.

“This man and I go way back, we used to be partners if you could believe that. It was easy getting him surprisingly enough and lucky for me she was there too. What I need you to do is kill them. First Maria, then Fury. Then we will talk about this new position I have for you.” You needed to get out of this. Suddenly the door opened, and Fury and Maria were dragged in. The looked awful, defeated even, one thing that you never saw on either of their faces. Then they looked up and saw you and you saw hope on their faces. You, however, were shaking. You had to think quickly of what you had to do.

There were four men there and Frank. Each had a gun, and a knife attached to their belts. You had a gun you also had the team who would hopefully be on their way by now, but you had no way of knowing for sure. You eyed up the four guys, you could take them. You could do this. You just had to get Fury and Maria out of here alive.

Fury eyed you knowing that you had just calculated your plan in the span of 20 seconds, and he visibly relaxed as did Maria. They trusted you. You could do this.

You walked over and grabbed the gun from Frank, “You got it boss.” You said before turning your back on him to walk towards Maria. You held the gun at her head, then eyed Frank who gave you a subtle nod.

Before you could shoot Maria, you pulled your gun up and expertly shot three of the men before the 4th one lunged at you. You dodged him and grabbed him by the arm causing him to turn around. You shot him in the back before turning to look at Frank. He eyed you nervously.

“Who are you?” he asked in a shaky voice. You smirked. “I’m your worst enemy.” You said before turning to shoot him. He fell back, you don’t even check to see if he’s out before you turn around to help Fury and Maria out of the restraints. Right as your finishing helping Maria, you hear an alarm blare. You turn to see Frank with his phone in his hand smiling. Before you have time to process you feel a sharp pain in your stomach. You whip your head around to see a guard standing there. You shoot him then turn back and shoot Frank in the head.

“Y/N,” Fury said as he rushed towards you. You then collapsed on the ground, looking down to see a knife protruding from your stomach. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You heard lots of commotion coming from the hallway. You knew the team was there. Fury knew not to touch the blade inside you and instead picked you up carefully. He started carrying you out of the building and to the quinjet outside. He put you on the ground and tried to stop the bleeding. He took the com out of your ear to talk to the team.

“This is Fury, Y/N is down. Stab wound in her abdomen. We’re on the quinjet but we have to get her out of here, and fast.” You didn’t get to hear the response but not even two minutes later a red head appeared in your vision cupping your cheek.

“Stay with me you hear me. You’re not allowed to leave remember. You have to be with me.” Wanda said. You reached up to grab her cheek. “I'm not going any-any-anywhere. Re-re-remember.” You choked out with difficulty. You saw tears running down her face.

Fury reached around Wanda to look at the wound. “We need to take that knife out; an infection has already started spreading. If we want her to make it, it has to come out. I will remove it. Wanda, you need to apply pressure as I extract it.” He said looking up at Wanda who just nodded. Wanda put her hands on the spot she would never dare touch before.  The knife was directly in the center of your soul mate mark. You realized in that moment that she was your soul mate. You started to cry, now scared about what the outcome of this day would be. You had to make it, you had to be ok for her.

It must have registered in her brain as you simply put your hands over hers. Covering her mark on the back of her hands. You heard her cry harder as both of your marks started to fade away.

“I love you Y/N. You can’t leave me now. I said it. I’ve said what I’ve tried to run away from. We both know now, and now, you can’t leave me.” Wanda said crying harder holding her hands on your stomach. It was so hard for you to process her feelings. The pain slowly started to leave your body as you began to feel numb.

“I love you too Wanda,” breath, “always have,” breath,” always will.” You tried to get out. Suddenly you couldn’t hear anything. You saw Wanda start to sob and scream at you. You saw the rest of the team ran onto the quin jet. Steve immediately took over for Wanda, while Nat and Clint tried to pull her away from you. You saw her fighting her way back to you then everything went black.

Steve held his hands there. Tony used his Iron man suit to freeze the wound until they were able to get you home. You were fighting for your life the whole way back to the compound. Wanda fought everyone so hard to stay by your side. She held your hand rubbing endless circles on the back of your hand. She talked to you the whole way.

“Well, we know now, we’re soulmates. When you wake up from this don’t expect me to ever let you out of my sight again. The first thing that’s going to happen is I'm going to talk to Tony. You need a suit. I know I'm not stopping you from going on missions but you need a suit so you can be ok when I'm not there. The next thing is we are moving out of the compound. It’s a target. I need you safe and I need you all to myself. Maybe we could build a house right next door or down the block because I know you won’t want to be too far from the team. Also, we are getting married. There is absolutely no point in prolonging that. I want you to be mine for forever, officially. For all this to happen you need to stay with me. You need to be ok. Because I love you.” Wanda rambled on. She continued to talk about your life together.

When you arrive at the compound they immediately moved you to the medical bay. Wanda is frozen on the jet. Everyone slowly makes their way off the jet exhausted from the day. Wanda slowly walks off and instead of going with Nat to the medical bay, she goes to your room and puts on one of your sweatshirts. She crawls under the covers and puts on your favorite sitcom. She doesn’t watch though, she’s too numb, a million thoughts running through her head. She doesn’t want you gone; she needs you. After about a half hour she lets out a blood curdling scream as it finally hits her that you might be gone. Clint goes in and just holds her, being her fatherly figure that he is.

They operate on your stomach and everything goes smoothly, but you lost a lot of blood. Now it is up to you to wake up. In the in between life and death you are at peace. You are in your dream house with your childhood dog, and you feel a sense of calm. No responsibilities are on your shoulders, no timeline of missions, no scars from past missions litter your body. In the in between you are just you and you can do anything you want.

Every day you do whatever you want. Some days its running by a lake, some days you are on the beach. The only sad part is nobody is here to share it with you. One day you are cooking up some breakfast when there is a knock on your door. You are startled by the intrusion of your peace. You wipe your hands and go to the door to see a young man with white hair.

“Hi,” you say unsure of your own voice.

“Y/N, I’m Pietro, Wanda’s Brother.” You stand there in shock. You’re not sure what to do so you reach out and give him a hug, happy that you finally are able to meet him.

“Oh my gosh, HI! It’s so nice to meet you! Wanda has told me so much about you!” You say enthusiastically. You then step aside and welcome him into your home.

You take him to the kitchen where you both share a meal, and you get to know him better. He tells you all about young Wanda and their life growing up. You tell him all about your relationship with Wanda and that you both learnt that you were soulmates.

“She really loves you ya know? She tried to push it away for so long. Do you know how long you have been here for?” He asks you suddenly. You’re thrown by the question because you have now lost track of time.

“No, I’m not really sure. The last thing I remember is telling Wanda that I loved her. Then I was just here.” You tell him honestly.

“It’s been 3 months. You’re not dead, your body is trying to figure out what it wants to do. For that to happen you need to know what you want to do. Can I show you something?” He asks as you try processing this conversation.

“S-s-s-sure.” You say nervously, still trying to wrap you head around the fact that it’s been 3 months. He stands up and escorts you to a mirror. He pulls a nob out and places it on the mirror. Your eyebrows furrow and he notices.

“You only get one of these when you’re completely committed to this world.” He says as a sad smile crosses his face. You know he wasn’t supposed to die, but he sacrificed himself to save Clint, a heroic action. He starts turning the nob and you see yourself on a hospital bed. Next to you is Wanda, she looks so broken, a shell of a person who she was. You gasp and put your hand on the mirror to try to touch her. You can’t though and the tears start to roll down your face.

“She hasn’t eaten much Y/N. She hasn’t showered unless Clint makes her. She has spent every day for the past three months in this hospital room next to you, waiting for you to wake up. She needs you Y/N, way more than she ever needed me. You make her happy even if she was too stupid to admit it. She loves you so much. I understand if you choose to stay here and wait for her, to be at peace and get the relaxation you need, but please just do something. Don’t stay in this in between because it will kill her.” The tears are coming faster now as you take everything in. He gives he a side hug and you turn into his body so he could hold you while you cry.

Pietro stays the rest of the day and does whatever you want to do. You both go for a walk, you take a boat out on the lake, you go to the beach and just stare at the ocean. You wish that everything could be easy, but it can’t. You have to make a decision.

After dinner Pietro says that it’s time for him to leave and you escort him to the door.

“It was really nice being able to mee you Y/N. If you do go back, tell my sister hi. Tell her I miss her, but I am so proud of the person she has become. Tell her I am ok and that she’ll see me again someday. And you, if you return take care of her, love her, and give her everything you possibly can.” You nod at him and reach for a hug which he gladly returns. “I’m happy its you, Y/N.” he said before he turns around to leave.

After he leaves, you stay up and write. You write all of your feelings on a page. You write all the reasons you want to stay and all the reasons you want to go back. Eventually you fall asleep on the couch a pen in your hand.

When you wake up the light is bright. It takes you a few minutes for you to realize where you are. You’re in the hospital bed, a warm presence is on your arm. You look down to see Wanda slouched over asleep next to you. You smile, you’re back. You remember your time away so vividly; you look up and silently thank Pietro. You lean over and place a soft kiss on the top of the red head. It takes her a minute to stir. She looks up at you and just stares in disbelief. Her hand reaches up to cup your cheek making sure your really there. You just reach up and touch her hand.

That’s enough for her to attack you in a hug and sob. You hold her whispering reassuring words into her hair. “I’m here. Don’t worry I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Remember I’ll always come back.” She just cried harder.

After she finally calms down, she smashes her lips on yours, putting in all the emotions she has, and you are fast to reciprocate it. When you pull back your foreheads are touching.

“So, when are we getting married?” you ask a smile spreading on your lips.

“As soon as you get out of this hospital bed,” she says while smiling back at you.

“And the house?” you ask repeating all of the promises she made to you.

“Steve already started construction on the edge of the compound property.” She says while planting kisses all over your face.

“And the suit?” you ask, she freezes.

“Not happening anytime soon. We are taking a long vacation you and me, there are a lot of things we need to catch up on and I'm not going to share you just yet.” This causes you to chuckle and agree.

“He’s proud of you, ya know?” you tell her, she freezes and gives you a questioning look. “Pietro, I met him, he’s proud of you, he loves you, and he’s ok. He said you will see him one day don’t worry.” You say as you bring your hand up to her cheek in a comforting way. You see tears roll down her cheeks and you’re quick to wipe them away.

She snuggles closer to you “thank you y/n for telling me. And for coming back to me. I love you.” She says as she lays her head on your chest. You wrap your arms around her and in a few minutes, you hear that she is sleeping. You see such relief on her features, and she looks so calm. “I love you too, always have and always will.” You say as you lay a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

[avengerscompound]

The Pain in Serendipity - 8

The Pain in Serendipity - A Captain America Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers (possible polyamory in future).

Rating: E

Word Count:  1751

Warnings: aftermath of the snap, grief

Synopsis:   When Thanos snaps his fingers it takes your daughter and Steve Rogers’ first love with it.  Together you pick up the pieces, falling in love and building a family together.  Finding serendipity in your shared trauma.When opportunity comes to bring back those who are lost comes with the risk of more loss for you both.  Is it worth taking the risk?

Chapter 8

The news of your engagement to Steve was met with a lot of excitement from the kids and quite a bit from Natasha Romanoff too.  While Steve still had friends around after the half of life turned to dust, most of his close friends had been taken out and the ones that remained he was mostly estranged with.  You didn’t know all the details and you knew he still occasionally saw Rhodey and Bruce, but besides them, it was Natasha that Steve was closest to.  She’d been trying to hold the team together but generally speaking she was alone out at the old Avengers Facility that had been sitting all but vacant since everything had gone down.  The news that Steve was engaged made Natasha light up for the first time in the last two and a half years.

For a few months, you rode that wave of excitement.  You made no firm plans for the wedding, but the initial conversations about it were all full of joy.  You spoke about potential venues and themes - how big it should be - what time of year.  You would talk to the kids about how they might be involved in the wedding, and you talked about how you’d handle the honeymoon given you had children with attachment disorders.

It wasn’t until the third anniversary of the incident that took so many people from you and your newly found family that you crashed from that high.

You sat at the front of the crowd with Ryan, Isabella, and Jacob.  Natasha sat next to Isabella, and beside her Bruce Banner in his new Hulk form.  Steve was on stage with the mayor and James Rhodes, as well as a few other government officials.  Other than that no other Avengers had shown for the unveiling of the monument to lost New Yorkers.  Thor hadn’t been heard from since he returned to new Asgard and no one even knew where Clint Barton was.  Steve had said Tony Stark had been invited, but if that was true, he was a no-show.

Similar monuments were going up in major cities around the country and the world, though the timing of them often depended on how hard it had been to sort through the names to find the official count.

Steve stepped up to the microphone.  “Three years ago our world and many others were changed forever.  A madman with the power to change the makeup of life itself decided that rather than create peace or unlimited resources that would be handed out equally to everyone, rather than eradicating disease and suffering, or to solve the problems words have with pollution, he’d eliminate half the life that existed.  Not just here.  Everywhere.  It was a choice that not only made no difference to any of these issues but created a collective shared trauma in all that was left behind.

“I tried to stop him.  My friends tried to stop him.  Trying to find it in my heart to forgive myself for failing you all has been something I’ve been struggling to do…”

Steve paused and took a deep breath as he looked down at the podium.  “We have all lost people.  Not just one or two people, but hundreds.  Or friends.  Our family.  Mothers.  Fathers.  Children.  Husbands.  Wives.  Close friends.  It was indiscriminate and the fallout has scarred us.  We all share in this trauma and I’m not sure any of us know what to do now.  Expect to try and be kind and share the burden of this tragedy. 

“Today we come together to remember those people we loved and lost and grieve for them together.  Each person’s name is etched on the stones that stand behind me.  A monument to those that we loved that were taken from us for no reason other than a madman clicked his fingers.  I ask us all to take a minute of silence in remembering them all now.”

You lowered your head and thought about Alice.  Tears welled in your eyes as you remembered your little girl and thought about how you would never see her grow up and how much you missed her.

When the minute was up Steve thanked everyone and left the stage.  The mayor talked for a while and when he finished, you took the kids to find the names of their parents.  You had just tracked down Ryan’s parents when Steve found you.

“They’d be proud of you, Ry,” Steve said, putting his hand on the boy's shoulders.  “I know I am.”

“I still miss them,” Ryan said, as he stuck a small flower beside their names with a piece of double-sided tape.

“Of course you do,” you said.  “That’s normal, sweetheart.  Look at all these people here, looking for the names of the people they miss.”

Ryan broke down into tears and turned around and hugged you, burying his face in your neck.  For the entire three years you’d known him he’d never broken like this in front of you.  It shocked you, but even as you held him and rubbed his back and cried your own tears of grief, you felt like this was a good thing.  Another step forward in your son’s healing.

When he pulled apart and wiped his eyes, Steve rubbed your back.  “Have you found Alice yet?” he asked.

“No, we did Callie for Jacob and then Isabella’s parents, and then we came here,” you said.

“Let’s try and find her,” Steve said.

You made your way down the aisles keeping your eye on the last names.  Alice’s name was close to the ground on the side of one of the big stone pillars facing the bay.  You crouched down and traced the A with your index finger.  Jacob came over and wrapped his arms around your neck.  “You and Alice would have been good friends, J.J.,” you said.  “I used to take care of you when your mommy was at work and Alice would play games with you.  She used to make you laugh.  You thought she was amazing.”

“She be with mommy,” Jacob said, patting your shoulder.

“Yeah, I bet they’re looking after each other,” you said.

“Yeah.  Wike you wook after me,” Jacob agreed and kissed your cheek.  “Wove you, mommy.”

“I love you too,” you said and cuddled him.

Isabella wrapped her arms around you too and snuggled into you.  “I love you too, mommy,” she whispered.

Tears pricked your eyes.  “I love you, Bella.”

Steve put his hand on your shoulder and Ryan kneeled and stuck an orchid to the stone next to Alice’s name.

When you were ready to move on, you got up and wordlessly your group moved on, following Steve as he went searching for the names he wanted to find.  As you walked through the pillars, you found Natasha with her hand pressed to one of them.  Steve approached her and put his hand on her shoulder.

“Why won’t he come home?” she said.

Steve shook his head.  “I wish I knew.”

Natasha closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  When she opened her eyes again it was like nothing was wrong.  “Hey kids, do you want to go with me to get some ice cream?”

“Ice cream!”  Jacob shouted as Ryan looked back at you with his brow furrowed.

“Nat,” Steve said gently.  “It’s okay to be…”

“I can’t…” she said, shaking her head.  “Hey, it’s okay.  I’ll just take them over there and you can - well you know…”

“Natasha…”

“I’m okay, Steve,” she said.  “I’m always okay.  Come on, guys.”

Jacob and Isabella ran over to her and took Natasha’s hands while Ryan looked back at you.  “Uh..?” he said.

“It’s okay.  Go with Nat.  We’ll meet you over there,” you said.

He nodded and followed Natasha out of the memorial where some food carts were set up.  “What was that about?” you asked.

Steve tapped a series of names.  “That’s Clint’s family,” he said.  “I think the fact she not only lost them, but he just went rogue -” he shook his head.  “It’s messy.  They were her family too.  You know?  And she wants to be there for Clint but he’s just pushed everyone away.”

You wrapped your arm around his waist and leaned into him.  “It’s a rough day, huh?”

“At least we aren’t all alone for it,” he said and pressed his lips to your temple.

The two of you moved down a little and Steve began scanning the wall.  When he found the name he was looking for he ran his thumb over it and taped an orchid beside it.  “I never thought I’d get married without Bucky there.  Even when I imagined myself marrying someone else, he was always standing beside me.”

You frowned and leaned into his side.  “We don’t have to get married if you don’t want to,” you said.  “You know I was okay with just how we are.  I don’t need the paper to know you’re committed to me.”

“No,” he said.  “Sweetheart, I want this.  I can’t keep delaying my own life.  I used to do it because I thought I had this gift and if I didn’t use it I was as bad as the bad guys.  I can’t just replace that by putting things off because they aren’t how I imagined them.  I love you and I love what we have.  I want to make it official.”

You leaned up and kissed him tenderly.  He hummed softly into your lips and caressed his thumb along your jaw.  “I love you so much, you know?” you said as you pulled back.

“I love you too,” he said.  “I want to say Bucky would love you as well, but most likely he’d have been a little jealous if he knew I was seeing you.”

You laughed and snuggled into him.  “Well, I wouldn’t have been trying to turn your head if he was around,” you teased.

“Is that what you did?” he chuckled.  “Did you use your feminine wiles on me?”

You broke down into giggles.  “Something like that.”

He kissed you again, pulling you up against him.  “I can’t wait to marry you, my love,” he said.  “And I’ll have Ryan as my best man, and I’m so happy about that too.  This is what I want.”

“Good,” you said.  “Shall we go find the kids then?  Maybe we can take Nat out for lunch.”

“That’s a really good idea,” he agreed.  “No one should be alone today.”

// NEXT

[marauderundercover]

This Side of Normal Chapter Three

Previous

AO3

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is tired. She’s tired of emotional terrorists and liars and classes with a teacher who cares more about keeping the peace than teaching. She’s also just plain tired. Taking a long swig of coffee, Marinette jumps slightly as someone flounces down next to her. Wearily glancing over, she frowns at the look on her best friend’s face. Her mind runs a million miles a minute as she searches for the reason for the look on his face. The conversation on the roof with Jason flashes in her mind and she frowns, realizing why he looks so sad.

“Adrien-” She starts, but he shakes his head.

“I know, Mari. I know he’s our best suspect but...it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He says, slouching so that he can lay his head on her shoulder. Marinette sighs in response

“You’re gonna get in trouble sitting back here, kitty.” She mumbles, trying not to laugh at the absolutely adorable pout on his face that forms once she’s done talking.

“It’s worth it. I hate sitting by Lila.” He grumbles, the sad look on his face breaking Marinette’s heart.

“I-Well, maybe Mme. Bustier won’t notice.” She offers with a small smile. The smile falls almost immediately as a loud gasp rings throughout the room.

“Mme. Bustier, isn’t Adrien’s seat in the front row? Has the seating chart changed again?” Lila asks, her voice wobbly with tears. “Do I- do I have to sit by myself?” She adds. Marinette groans and drops her head onto the desk.

“Adrien? Why don’t you come back to your seat. We’re going to start class soon.” Mme. Bustier calls out.

“Sorry, guess I spoke too soon.” Marinette mumbles from her spot against the table. Adrien groans, but drags his bag down to the front row, furrowing his eyebrows as Lila immediately attaches herself to his arm. Marinette rolls her eyes, trying her hardest to pay attention to the lecture when all she wants to do is sleep. Between Ladybug duties, commissions, and homework, Marinette was lucky to get more than a couple hours of sleep each night. Add in the fact that once she could go to sleep her brain wouldn’t shut off, and Marinette was ready to petition her parents for an IV drip for her coffee. Having been completely zoned out for the entire class, Marinette jumps when the telltale sound of an akuma alarm suddenly blares throughout the room. Pulling out her phone, Marinette curses under her breath. Another element based akuma. Quickly grabbing her bag, Marinette follows the rest of the class towards the akuma shelter, silently slipping away and into the bathroom. She wastes no time in transforming, instead swinging herself out the window and to the fight.

----

Glancing down at his computer, Jason frowns. Gabriel Agreste has a kid. A kid Damian’s age, who lives in Paris. If Gabriel Agreste really was Hawkmoth, he was doing it knowing that his kid could get caught in the crossfire. Damn shitty parents. Letting out a shaky breath, Jason tries to think about things that calm him. Breathe. Can’t get pissed off here. Can’t make it harder on those kids than it already is. Deciding enough is enough when it comes to research (especially since he didn’t give Replacement specifics, just told him to look into anything sketchy with Agreste), Jason walks over and glances out the hotel window. A sudden alarm blaring through the hotel makes him sigh in frustration. It was the same alarm from last time, when he watched Paris flood and hundreds of bodies float in the streets. Climbing out onto the fire escape, Jason hurries up to the roof, scanning the horizon in hopes of seeing the akuma.

“Shit.” He says, eyes widening at the sight of flames twenty feet high. Regretting letting Bruce convince him to leave the helmet in Gotham, Jason has no choice but to watch the akuma fight from afar. Even if the two heroes hadn’t recognized him, Jason was in Paris on “official” W.E. business. Being recognized as Bruce Wayne’s adoptive son while fighting a supervillain? Probably not the best idea. He’d do more damage than help, and at least by staying away from the fight, he could help the kids later. And maybe track down the son of a bitch who decided focusing the majority of his attacks on a school was a good idea.

----

Jason grit his teeth as the lights flashed and ladybugs flew around, fixing up the city. This battle took almost three hours, and the smell of burning flesh was lingering, despite all of the corpses being reanimated. Huffing, Jason climbs back off the roof, only thinking one thing. There was no way in hell he was leaving Paris until Hawkmoth was out of commission.

----

Landing softly on the rooftop, Marinette glances over at the strange man. Jason. The man who, for some reason, was willing to train them late at night on top of a roof, just so they could fight out of the suits. Not that he understood everything that the suits could do, but that was for the best. Even though his intentions seemed genuine, Marinette had learned not to trust easily anymore. Ever since Lila came, Marinette was wearier, and more likely to ask questions before accepting someone.

“Here’s your mask, if you wanna go ahead and change and start doing some basic stretches.” Jason instructs, getting right down to business as he passes the black domino mask to her. Marinette nods and flits behind the chimney.

“Spots off.” She says quietly, grinning at Tikki.

“Is this really a good idea?” Tikki asks, her face scrunched up with worry. Marinette sighs at her friend.

“He’s gonna help us find Hawkmoth. And he has a point. What happens if I can’t transform but someone still needs my help? I don’t want to be helpless, Tikki.” Marinette says.

“Just be careful, you don’t have the suit to stop you from being too injured.” Tikki warns before flying to the top of the chimney. Marinette hesitates a second before sliding the domino mask on, blinking to get used to the eye cover. It was...weird, having a mask on that wasn’t magic. With the mask that came with her suit, Marinette couldn’t feel it. It was just there, part of her. The domino mask, though, was solid. She could feel it resting on her face. Taking a breath to steady herself, Marinette walked out from behind the chimney.

“Chat Noir’s changing over there.” Jason says when he notices her, nodding towards an air duct on the opposite side of the roof.

“Thank you, for offering to help us.” Marinette says, Jason nods, a tense smile on his face.

“No problem.” He says.

“Did you happen to look into Gabriel Agreste today?” She asks.

“Yeah, what kind of asshole decides to be an emotional terrorist in a city where his kid lives?” Jason asks, a dark look crossing his face. Marinette flinches, looking at Jason nervously. If he had the means to train them, she really didn’t want to deal with him as an akuma.

“Gabriel Agreste, apparently.” Adrien says, finally joining the two, his arms crossed. Marinette frowns at him. It was much harder to read his face with his eyes hidden.

“So did you guys want me to look more into Agreste?” He asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks between the two. Marinette glances at Adrien, letting out a small breath when she sees his small nod.

“Yeah. Even if it’s not Gabriel, we need to know for sure.” She says. Jason nods.

“Alright. That gives me something to do tomorrow. Now, stretch and warm up. I don’t wanna have to drag your asses off this roof ‘cause you pulled something trying to jump right into things.” Jason says, a teasing grin on his face. Marinette grins back, finally feeling lighter. Maybe training would be a good thing.

----

Training was hell. Okay, maybe not hell, but it was not easy. Gasping for air, Marinette dramatically collapses on the roof.

“Aw come on Pixie, you can do better than that.” Jason teases, still standing in a sparring stance.

“Jay, I swear. We’ve been training for over a week. I’m exhausted. And you’ve already kicked my ass twice. I’m giving up.” She says, throwing her arm over her face to block out the lights from the surrounding street lamps.

“Come on Bug, don’t give up!” Adrien cheers from the side, a smirk on his face. Marinette sits up and narrows her eyes at him, despite knowing the mask wouldn’t let him see her eyes. And the level of done that was visible there.

“Why don’t you try again?” She asks in a taunting tone. Adrien snorts.

“You and I both know that I can’t beat Jason.” He says, shaking his head in amusement.

“Not with that attitude. Come on kid, let’s go.” Jason says, turning to face Adrien instead of Marinette. An idea flashes into Marinette’s head and she smirks, lunging forward and yanking Jason down as his attention is completely on Adrien. Grabbing his wrists as he falls, Marinette manages to twist him around so that his face is against the rooftop and his arms are bent behind him.

“Okay, okay, I tap out.” Jason chuckles, accepting Marinette’s hand when she jumps up and reaches out to help him up.

“I won.” She says with a wide grin.

“You totally cheated.” Jason replies with a snort.

“Nah, Kitty and I just worked together to outsmart you.” Mari says.

“Don’t drag me into this, I had no idea what was happening ‘til Jay was on the ground.” Adrien says, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Traitor.” Marinette huffs, sticking her tongue out at her best friend.

“Hey, you guys are gonna have to go home soon.” Jason says, glancing down at his watch. Marinette frowns.

“What about the Plan?” She asks. “I thought we were gonna work on that tonight so that we have an actual plan to stop Hawkmoth instead of just letting him run around and terrorize people nonstop.”

“Pixie, it’s late. I promise we’ll start with planning tomorrow. But you guys need to go get some sleep. Chat told me you’re already living off of coffee alone. That’s not healthy.” Jason says. Marinette rolls her eyes, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout.

“Coffee is my life fuel and I will not apologize.” She says, making both Chat and Jason groan.

“You’re worse than my brother.” Jason says and Mari grins.

“I’m sure we’d get along swimmingly.” She says, and Chat shakes his head.

“Nope. I draw the line at your coffee addicted butt meeting another coffee addict. I’m not about to watch that train wreck.” He says, grabbing Mari’s hand and tugging her behind the chimney so they can transform. Saying their phrases quickly, the two dart back over to Jason.

“Same time?” Marinette asks with a bright smile. Jason nods. Marinette waves, running over to the edge of the building and swinging away, waving at Adrien as he vaults towards his house. As she lands on her balcony, Marinette can't help the wide smile that stretches across her face. Maybe they could finally end this.

Next

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Yandere Platonic!Batfamily x Batsis!Reader (platonic)

When you first become part of the family, you’re ecstatic! You get to go around and save the day with Batman and the rest of the Batfamily? Hell yeah! But you’ll come to understand that it’s much more than that. Being closer to Damian’s age you’re one of the younger members of the family. You don’t have expertise in weaponry, or were trained by a league of assassins. You didn’t really have a reason to be a hero, besides just wanting to help make the world a better place, starting with Gotham. 

You were already your own hero when you met Batman, who you’ll come to find is Bruce Wayne. You didn’t really have a hold of the hero lifestyle. You were just a kid after all. A kid in over their head. You didn’t really know what you were doing, just that you wanted to help people. And Bruce, seeing your potential and good intentions, he offers to take you under his wing. 

Once he brings you around the other Batfamily members, there are mixed emotions.Some of them admire your integrity and will to keep pushing through no matter what you’re faced with, but the others just think you’re too young and in over your head. And you are. You’re not delusional, thinking you can just skate by in Gotham, being a new hero and get out unscathed. But you’re more than willing to learn. So then begins your training with Batman and everyone else. 

Through the months of being trained and mentored, you’d form a bond with everyone. You’d proven yourself capable to handle going on patrol and being able to handle your own and stand your ground against an opponent. It also helps that you actually listen to Bruce.and don’t try to do stupid stuff. At least you don’t do stupid things often. 

You’ll usually go out on patrol with Bruce and Damian. But there is the rare occasion that Bruce will let you go with one of the other family members, like Dick, Barbara, Cass, or even Kate. You will rarely go on patrol with Jason though, on Bruce’s orders. He prefers you staying with him, by his side where he can keep an eye on you. It’s not like he doesn’t trust Jason, on the contrary, Jason has gained Bruce’s trust back and they’re on good terms, but Jason is still reckless and he doesn’t want that rubbing off on you. 

You’re pretty close with everyone, having formed your unique bonds with each of the family members. Damian is probably the closest to you, mostly due to the closer age gap between you two, you only being two years older. Damian wasn’t fond of you at first, He was completely under the idea of thinking you were stupid for even trying to put yourself into hero work. At least he’d been trained by his Grandfather and Mother. But watching and helping you train, he saw just how invested you were in being a hero and making a difference. Since then he would be the first to defend you when Jason, Tim, or someone else made an off hand comment about your naivety. 

Damian grew to really look up to you and your views of the world. You’d seen how bad the world could be, especially living in Gotham all your life, but that never stopped you from still seeing the good too. And Damian really admired that about you, trying to look at the world in a new light for himself. Easier said then done but he had you, his big sister, to help him along the way. 

Dick and Jason were probably the second closest family member to you, they both were pretty protective of you to begin with. It was no secret that you were pretty innocent and naive in general, but especially when it came to being a hero or fighting crime. Dick was always pretty brotherly to you right away and open about his attachment to you, but Jason was more lowkey about his. 

Once when you’d been allowed to go on patrol with Dick, you two were pretty happy getting to spend some time together, he was all for having your attention on him. Somewhere along the night, Jason found his way to you two. The three of you sitting on the edge of a rooftop, eating burgers and waiting for trouble to stir, talking aimlessly. Then you three hear something going on in an alley and you all take off. Getting there, you see some of Joker’s goons harassing someone, and you guys step in. A fight breaks out and you’re holding your own against a few of them, when you get pummeled. Dick and Jason seeing you’re down, just see red. They’re both just wailing on the bastards who hurt their little sister. 

When you do come to again, you’re in your room in the manor with everyone hovering around you. Wrapped up in bandages you reassure your new family that you’ll be okay, all the while wearing such a warm and kind smile. Dick and Jason, along with the other family members, realize then and there that you’re just too good for this world, too innocent for you’re own good. They all make an unspoken vow to take care of you and protect you with their lives. Promising not to let anything happen to that light of yours. 

A few weeks after that incident, you’re still healing and resting up, all of the members from the Batfamily constantly checking on you. Your brothers and sisters making sure you’re happy and not in any pain. Alfred coming in every so often, bringing you anything you need and want. Getting a little choked up at seeing you all beat up and bruised, but your wearing the same smile and reassuring him just like everyone else. And Alfred can’t help the fondness that he has for you, feeling it grow more and more as time goes by. 

Bruce is beating himself up after hearing about how beat up you are. He honestly thought he just might lose you, but you’re in stable condition now. No one is really letting you do anything for yourself, afraid you’ll strain yourself even more. Bruce is constantly in and out of your room, checking on you and making sure your not overall doing anything to hurt yourself further. But each and every time he comes to check on you, you’re reassuring him, telling him it’s not his fault and that you’re gonna be just fine. 

Even though you still needed a lot of training to be the hero you wanted to be, that didn’t mean that you didn’t pick up on any of Bruce’s detective skills. Being able to read him and your fellow family members like open books, you can see how much Bruce, Dick, and Jason were beating themselves up about not protecting you better. All your family members were internally beating themselves up. All you could do was reassure them all individually. Everyone would later up the rules and orders you had to go by for patrol. You weren’t allowed to patrol alone or run head first into a fight without back up and a whole bunch of other new limitations to your crime fighting. 

All you can do is go along with it, especially if you want to keep being a hero. You’ll need to give your constant understanding and reassurance to your family, letting them know you’re not mad or angry with them. After all, they’re only doing this to keep you safe and putting your best interest at heart. 

“We’re just doing this to protect you, Y/n, You know that, right..?” 

[preciousthingsareprecious]

Around the Carousel

Catch me joining Damian Wayne Week after it started with some impulse fics. This is for day 2 (I almost made it to actually posting on the 14th my time). I selected the: Undercover prompt.

Summary: Bruce and Damian go undercover at a school fair. They're supposed to be investigating, instead they stop to enjoy themselves.

AO3 Link

~

Bruce tucked his hands into his pockets and smiled down at Damian as the boy adjusted his hat. It was the third time he’d done it in ten minutes as the wind kept pulling at it, trying to tease it off his head.

It was a windy night for them to be out. A steady breeze blew through fair stalls, kicking up banners and tablecloths, and threatening to blow papers and smaller items off of tables. It cut the late Spring heat in a nice way, making the night mild and perfect for a school fair. Which, was exactly where they were at.

“If you’d like, I can carry that for you.” Bruce said.

Damian dropped his hands and looked up at Bruce, “I am fine, Fa--Uncle Matches. It is not bothering me.”

“Alright, whatever you say, kiddo.” Bruce smiled, “You wanna adjust those glasses while you’re at it?”

His son frowned, his nose wrinkling, and sending the glasses sliding a little further down it. It was unreasonably cute. Bruce held up his phone and snapped a photo of his son. The flash went off and when Bruce dropped his phone Damian was looking surprised.

“For posterity's sake.” Bruce explained, examining the picture, it had caught Damian’s expression perfectly.

He attached it to a text and sent it to Dick, anticipating a response of jealousy from his eldest. Dick was in Bludhaven, working his own case, and had to bow out of joining the Matches boys as they went undercover.

“Uncle Matches, are you planning to spend all night looking at your phone or are we to explore the fair? You promised to examine my entry for the art exhibit.”

How Damian had managed to get a piece in an art exhibit at a school he didn’t even attend Bruce was still figuring out. Apparently he’d had Oracle hack into the system and create a profile and enrollment information for one Matthew “Matches” Malone. Damian’s art was set up under the moniker Lil’ Matches, and even thinking about it made Bruce smile.

“Of course, lead the way.”

Damian nodded, the action shaking his glasses loose again. Bruce bit back a smile. It was Damian who’d insisted on going the Clark Kent route with glasses and selecting clear ones to help obscure their identities, instead of the normal shades that paired with the Matches persona. It would be hard to defend sunglasses at a fair that took place mostly after dark.

It had been a good call, so far no one had recognized them in their suits and glasses, and they’d been able to enter the fair and purchase game tickets with ease.

His kid adjusted the glasses again, turned on his heel and began to lead Bruce. He followed at a leisurely pace, enjoying the lights strung across stalls, the smell of food frying, and the calls of students manning games and trying to get them to use their tickets to purchase sketches or experiences.

“I believe our target is one of the art students. Most have been asked to spend time by their pieces at the exhibit.” Damian explained as he walked.

“What time is their slot?” Bruce asked, eyes catching on a bottle toss game.

“He should arrive in approximately an hour.”

“An hour you say?” Bruce hooked an arm around Damian’s shoulders and spun him back towards the bottle toss, “Then why don’t we spend some time enjoying the fair, my dear nephew?”

Damian stopped and looked up at him with open surprise, “But we are on a case?”

“At a school fair. The likes of which I don’t think you’ve ever properly attended. Didn’t the one at your school get interrupted?”

“No.”

Bruce frowned, “You didn’t go, I remember that. What happened?”

His son looked down at the ground, fascinated by the way dust coated his shoe, “There was a Scarecrow attack the night prior. I--was incapacitated by it.”

He remembered now. Damian had taken a dose of toxin for Tim when his brother’s mask had cracked. Both of them had been down for a while, but Damian had been exposed longer than Tim by the time Batman and Spoiler had arrived. He’d been shaky and sick for days after.

Bruce squeezed Damian’s shoulder, “All the more reason to enjoy this one.”

He tried not to think about how Dick would have remembered right away and not pushed the subject, or how even if he had fallen in this pit he’d have figured out how to cheer Damian right away, “We can afford some distraction, you don’t want to be bored for an hour do you?”

Damian hummed, and glanced up, “I would not be opposed to trying a game or two.”

“Perfect, let’s start with the ring toss.” Bruce smiled.

They traded in some tickets for both of them to get a chance at the ring toss. The operator pointed at some green rimmed bottles, “Get at least three rings on the green and you’ll win a prize. If both of you get three onto green you can get one of the big ones or two smaller prizes.”

They had four chances each. Bruce glanced at Damian. He was focused, feeling the weight of the rings in his hands, and eyeing the bottles like he was doing the math in his head calculating what it would take to get them perfectly in place.

After a moment Damian tossed the first ring, it caught at the edge of one of the green bottles and slipped off. He frowned at it, nodded, and then tossed his remaining three in quick succession. All three landed around bottles.

Bruce grinned, and looked up to see the surprise on the operator's face. His son was extraordinary, and Bruce loved seeing him show off.

He took his own time tossing his rings, landing three as well, and missing his last. He shrugged, not minding missing one. They still met the requirements for the big prize.

“Well, kiddo, what do you want?” He asked.

Damian looked up at the racks of plushes hanging from the top of the booth, considering. He pointed at two of the smaller ones. One was a dog dressed as Batman, with a little cowl and cape, and the other was a duck wearing a green deerstalker cap, with a small magnifying glass attached to one of its wings.

The operator handed Damian both animals with a smile, “Good choices, looks like you’re a fan of detectives.”

“Yes.” Damian said, “I am, as is my brother. He will enjoy the duck. Thank you for the diverting game, and best of luck with others.”

As they walked away, Damian handed Bruce the duck, “I trust you to keep an eye on this.” he said, “If you lose it Timothy will be terribly disappointed. I cannot miss bringing him a souvenir twice in a row.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him, “It’s not for Dick?”

“Tt, I would have selected a different animal for him, perhaps an elephant or bird.” Damian fiddled with one of the ears of the cowl on his dog, “I promised Timothy a prize if I won one last time, it was supposed to be in exchange for driving Jon and I. Even though the event did not happen, he might still enjoy one from here.”

“I’m sure he will.” Bruce said, resisting the urge to tug Damian into a tight hug, “What would you like to do next? That didn’t take us very long.”

His son looked around the fair, “Perhaps we could try one of the rides? Is there one you particularly enjoy?”

Bruce looked up around them, the fair had a variety of rides. The school had managed to hire a good selection, including a carousel. Bruce pointed at it, they could just see the pointed top from where they were.

“The carousel, you’ll love it.”

This time Bruce led, with Damian close by his side, as they walked, Bruce gave into the desire to reach down and take Damian’s hand in his own. When the boy looked up at him Bruce smiled, “It’s normal for families to do, especially in a busy place like this.”

The crowd wasn’t so thick Bruce was worried about losing Damian, but the move felt natural. He’d held his other children’s hands at events like this before, even Tim’s, though they’d gone well after the boy was the usual age for hand holding when wandering around an event. Damian didn’t seem too upset, in fact he gave Bruce’s hand a squeeze.

“That makes sense. As my Uncle you would be concerned for my safety and wish me to stay close.”

“Of course.” Bruce nodded.

Soon they reached the carousel. Bruce watched Damian with a close eye as they approached. Damian’s face went from cautious and curious, to delighted. There was something about being at the fair and undercover that seemed to let his son react a little more openly than he might if they were somewhere else. Bruce contributed it to the magic of the night.

“It has animals?” he asked, looking up at Bruce.

“Yep, different types. Carousel horses and animals are actually a really unique type of art. There are some horses that have sold for tens of thousands of dollars.” He explained, “And some artists who spend their whole lives making just horses for them.”

Damian’s eyes had gone very wide now, his face open with childlike delight, “And we are allowed to ride them?”

“Most yes, this one probably isn’t as fancy as some, but if you’re interested I’m sure we can visit a few of the more famous ones. I bet Dick’s seen some really cool ones from when he was younger.”

The look on Damian’s face, of excitement and anticipation was enough to melt Bruce’s heart and say yes to anything the kid might ask. Bruce tugged him forward.

“Come on, let’s get in line.”

They didn’t have long to wait, just until the ride stopped and emptied off. From there, they traded in a few more tickets for a chance to ride. Damian wandered the whole of the ride before selecting a white horse with gold trimmings. Bruce took the brown one beside it. They’d taken so long selecting, that almost the moment after they were settled, the ride began to move.

Damian’s laugh when the horse he was on began to rise and fall along with the forward momentum of the carousel was like music. Bruce wanted to take him on every carousel in the world to keep hearing that laugh and seeing that smile.

“May we go again?” Damian asked, the moment the ride stopped.

“Of course.” Bruce told him.

After the second ride, they stepped off and back into the crowd. Bruce checked his watch, they still had some time to spare before they had to be at the art display. He glanced around and caught sight of some food stands.

“Have you had a funnel cake before?” He asked, elbowing Damian.

His son shook his head.

“Then we’re getting one.” Bruce declared, “They’re the perfect mix of fried dough and toppings. We’ve got enough time to enjoy one before getting back on track.”

Damian looked less excited by the prospect of fried dough, but agreed to try it. Soon, the two of them were seated at a picnic table with a funnel cake between them. It was topped with powdered sugar, chocolate, sprinkles, and even some whipped topping. Damian gaped at the concoction, but Bruce passed him a fork with confidence.

“You just have to go at it.” he explained, “Dig in and enjoy.”

His son snorted, “That sounds like something Richard would say.”

Bruce grinned at him, “It should, he told me the very same thing when he introduced me to funnel cakes.”

Together they managed to eat the entire funnel cake. As Bruce set his plastic fork down, he thought finishing it off might have been a mistake even if they weren’t in the middle of an undercover operation. His stomach felt heavy with grease, sugar, and bread.

“That was--a lot.” Damian said, finishing his bottle of water.

“Yes.” Bruce said, wiping at his fake moustache, “It was. But I think we’ll be fine. It’s about time to head over to the exhibit.”

He wanted to get there early enough to see Damian’s piece. The kid had been very secretive of what he’d been working on for it. Taking the project as seriously as he would have as if it were for his own school fair. Bruce wanted to be able to enjoy it before they disrupted everything.

They were here to catch one of the students in the act of trying to blackmail a teacher. Damian had gotten news of it from his friend Collin, letting him know that strange things were going down. After some research, Damian had found some discrepancies in grades with a few of the students, and noted one teacher withdrawing large sums of money on a regular basis. Not enough to make a kid rich, but enough to placate a teen who’d watched too much television.

Damian had brought the case to Bruce, and together they’d worked out that this would be the next best place to find the kid and teacher interacting in a public location. From what Bruce could tell, the teacher hadn’t done anything against his students, instead he seemed to be in the middle of an affair with a seperate teacher. The plan was to bust the student, or at the very least record the exchange and get it in the hands of the administration.

The teacher in question? One of the art instructors.

They tossed their trash into a bin and Bruce let Damian lead him over to where the art exhibit was put up. It was tucked in one of the further corners of the fair, out of the way of chaos, but on a busy enough route that plenty of people were stopping by to look at the art.

“Which one is yours?” Bruce asked.

“Ah, it is this here.” Damian led him to a painting hanging up on a temporary pillar.

It was a painting of the garden outside Wayne manor. Done in bright beautiful colors it looked like you could step right into the painting. Portions of the paint were raised up to create texture and shadows, like the petals on flowers. In one portion, Bruce could see Alfred the cat sleeping in a patch of sun.

“It’s gorgeous.” Bruce said, “the detail is incredible.”

Damian was blushing, “It is nothing, a quick painting.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, I know you were working on this for hours.” Bruce told him, “Do you get to bring it home?”

“Yes.” Damian said, “I was not sure what to do with it.”

“We’ll hang it up, of course. There’s a spot in the library I think will work well. Some greenery in a very brown room.”

At this point, Damian’s ears had gone red, “If you are sure.”

Bruce nodded, “I am.”

They spent a little longer looking at Damian’s painting before they shifted to look at some of the other pieces on display. There were quite a few that were really good, and a number of interesting ones. Some looked as if they had been submitted just for a grade, but all in all it was enjoyable.

Bruce was busy looking over a self portrait when he felt a small sharp elbow jab him in the side. He looked up to see Damian staring at another young man. Probably about sixteen, who’d just walked into the display area.

“That him?” he asked.

Damian nodded, “Let us wait to see if he approaches Mr. Franklin.”

Bruce slipped his phone out of his pocket and played with it, as if he were taking general photos.

“Matches, why don’t you stand by your painting? I want to get a picture of you with it.” he said, affecting a delighted uncle voice, “I’m sure your dad would love to see it.”

They moved over to the painting, and Bruce aimed the phone as he walked. Mr. Franklin was situated just behind the pillar with Damian’s painting on it. He snapped a few pictures of Damian, directing the kid to smile and pose, before slipping the phone’s setting over to video. He shifted slightly so that Franklin was in frame and hit record.

After a moment, the other boy approached him. Bruce inched forward to make sure he could get sound, and glanced over at Damian. The kid was hurrying away, off to find a separate teacher to bring over and hopefully stumble on the blackmail scene.

The exhibit was a good place to meet as Franklin was in charge of it and there wasn’t any reason for other teachers to wander over unless they were just checking things out. Most were too busy for that, with their own booths and class exhibits to care for.

Thankfully, Bruce did catch the conversation clearly from where he was. He hoped that no one would notice he’d stopped recording his kid, and started just recording the area. If he had to, he’d just say it was b-roll for a home video or something.

It wasn’t very long before Damian came back, a teacher at his heels. Bruce shifted the camera subtly back towards Damian’s painting.

“And here is my Uncle Malone. He can vouch for my skills if my piece does not convince you.” Damian was saying.

The teacher opened her mouth to say something, and then suddenly the boy speaking to Mr. Franklin shouted, “This is not what we agreed on!”

“I’m sorry--” she said, “Matches, Mr. Malone I’ll be right back.”

With that, she split from them to intervene on the argument. Bruce stopped his recording, and sent the video to Oracle who was going to forward it to the school.

“Well, that should take care of that.” Bruce said, turning to Damian, “How about we enjoy the rest of the fair? We’ve still got tickets, and there’s some rides we haven’t tried yet.”

Damian nodded, “That sounds acceptable. This fair has been, quite fun. And I am enjoying spending time with you.”

Bruce grinned, and tugged Damian into a hug, “Me too.”

“We should do the carousel again.” Damian said, stepping away to take Bruce’s hand, “And after that there is something that apparently spins you at such a speed you are stuck to the wall.”

“Oh? Well, lead the way, we’ll go until I feel like I’ve had a full patrol.”

Damian grinned at that, and Bruce felt his heart soar. He was going to have to figure out other ways of getting them undercover to things like this. Or just take Damian out to fairs more often as father and son.

[bluegarners]

By popular demand, I have written a Part 2 for mainstay for @viceturtle. Thank you so much @newsical for being an immense help with this!!

Part 1.

This chapter was inspired by this conversation between @bigskydreaming and @fuyunoakegata

ao3

There’s a lot to be said about his stubbornness. 

He thinks everyone has at least some degree of it within themselves. A refusal to move or consent to something. Sure, some don’t hesitate long. They give. They bend. They break. But the stubbornness is in that hesitation. That moment of ‘Am I really doing this? Should I be doing this? Why in the world should I do this?’. It’s about the pause, is what he’s trying to get at, that makes stubbornness so inherent to each individual. 

It breathes in the form of grudges. Arguments. Games of she-said-he-said-they-said. Right or wrong. I told you so’s and I’m not sorry’s. 

Jason does all of those things like it's second nature. He’s not going to pretend like he’s some saint who can understand the other side and reason with them. If he thinks he’s right, it’s not a matter of if the other person is actually right or wrong. He knows he’s right, so it doesn’t matter in the end. He knows what he knows, and if he doesn’t— whatever. Immovable object and all that.

So, yeah. There’s a lot to be said about his stubbornness. 

He calls Red Robin anyway.

“He’s gone.”

“Sorry, what? I need context for this. There’s a lot of people this could apply to—”

“Dick. Dick is gone.”

“Oh. Like, just now he left?”

“I don’t know. Some guy came and took him.”

“As much as I love vague conversations, this isn’t helping me and I don’t understand why you’re calling in the first place.”

“Dick is fucking. Gone. What do you not understand about that.”

“Jesus, I don’t know, Jason. What, is he not supposed to be gone? He said he was going to leave again. He already said ‘hi’ to Damian, so I don’t see why he would stick around any longer.”

“Hm.”

“Fuck me, didn’t you know? This was all just- just some visit for him. Sure, he’ll be back eventually, but fuck knows if he’s actually—”

He hangs up. Pockets his phone. Listens as the rain continues to drench the world outside of his little apartment. His shoulders hurt. There’s a bruise on his chest. Right between his fifth and sixth ribs. He has a split lip. He put ointment on it earlier but it still stings. His knees ache. He has a distant memory of his mother complaining about her knees too. Something about the weather making them act up.

He’s twenty-three.

He’s getting old.

On the table next to him is a box of cigarettes. Low-tar. Filtered. In his right pocket, there’s a lighter he got from someone years ago. He doesn’t know. Maybe he stole it. Found it. 

He pulls it out. Shakes a cigarette out of the thin box. Holds the paper wrapped nicotine between his lips, lifting the lighter and thumbing the flink strike. 

Click. 

He shakes the lighter. Tries again.

Click.

Gotham hasn’t had this much rain in a long time. It’s nearing October. Maybe it’s in season or whatever weather does. He doesn’t know the term.

Click.

It’s raining outside. Jason can see it. There’s raindrops on his window. He can hear it clattering against the fire-escape. Gray and black and mixes of yellow from street lamps below. Jason is inside on the comfort of his couch. Sure, it’s not the best apartment, but it doesn’t leak. The ceiling is fine and he hasn’t had any problems with it before. His face is wet though. He doesn’t know why.

Click.

Click.

Click.

The cigarette falls from his lips and lands with a thud on the stained carpet. The T.V is on. Says the storm over Gotham will last for the next few days. An unprecedented seven inches of rain predicted. The GCPD is advising everyone to stay indoors. Crime is expected to rise with the water levels.

Click.

His clothes are still soaked. He’s probably ruining his couch. He can’t remember if he took his boots off or not. 

Click.

Jason sighs. His chest feels heavy, like someone is sitting on top of him. It’s just him though. Only him in his apartment. He likes having his own space. The neighbors get loud sometimes, but it’s not as if he’s a five star resident either. It’s always been like this. He is…. Alone.

Click.

Dick was gone. Came back. And now, Dick is gone again. Did he do that? Did he drive him away? Is this his fault? Jason doesn’t know. Doesn’t care. Doesn’t know if he doesn’t care at all, but at least the rain is nice to listen to. Yeah. The rain is really nice. Consistent. Steady.

Click.

He didn’t take off his boots.

 ~oOo~

One month is all it takes. 

One month and Nightwing is out spotted in Bludhaven, his photo splashed across every news outlet from Gotham to Metropolis. New Jersey missed its boy in blue and cheers at his return.

Nightwing stays in Bludhaven though. Red Hood stays in Gotham. Just as it used to be. Back to normal. Yeah.

The rain stopped a week ago.

Jason misses the noise.

 ~oOo~

“Won’t you come?”

“No.”

“Please, Master Jason? We would love to have you here. It has been too long.”

“I can’t.”

“I thought you loved turkey. There’ll be plenty of leftovers and I know you’ve been meaning to return the tupperware from last time. It’ll be good for you to leave that apartment of yours.”

“I have better things to do than play nice and talk politics in Brucie Wayne’s mansion. I’m not coming.”

“I know you have your own quarrels with Master Dick, but—”

“It’s not about him. I don’t give a fuck about what he’s doing or what stick Bruce has up his ass this time. I am not walking into the line of fire just to save everyone else an evening of beating around the bush. I. Am. Not. Going.”

“. . . Then won’t you at least visit? I miss you. I worry about you.”

“I’m sorry, Alfred.”

“I am too, my boy.”

  Click.

 Jason spends Thanksgiving out in the Narrows. He’s not rich, doesn’t want to be, but he has money. Plenty he doesn’t need to spend on himself. He goes grocery shopping. Fills two, three carts worth of canned food and rotisserie chickens. Goes home, carries the bags in all at once. Organizes them. 

Single. Partners. Family.

He leaves his apartment. He is not Jason Todd. He is not Red Hood. He’s just some guy out in the Narrows. 

He hands out the bags. Has the decency to look the people in the eyes, knowing he was that street kid once. Seeing his mother in each dirty, beaten face he comes across. Pitying the drunken men and the addicts. They accept his offerings. It would be stupid not to. No one says thank you. He doesn’t need them to.

He goes home. His arms are sore. The bruises have completely faded.

The apartment is empty.

  Click

 Sometimes, there are days where he doesn’t know why. 

That’s a big concept: why? 

He thinks it carries too much weight. Maybe if he had survived past tenth grade, he could’ve signed up for a philosophy or debate class, maybe shed some light on that particular question, but he didn’t. Survive. So, he only has his own mind to ponder the concept. He’s read a couple books. Never fully understood the words he read though. He would’ve liked to, but he didn’t. Understand. 

But it’s up to interpretation right? So, here’s where he’s at.

Jason doesn’t understand or know why sometimes, and it becomes a problem.

He doesn’t understand why he got such a bad hand for parents. Why Bruce didn’t grieve like Jason wanted him to (so desperately yearned for, screamed for, died for). Why someone thought it was a good idea for him to live out a second-still-the-same life. Why he came back so different. (Was he? Different? He doesn’t think he came back wrong but he doesn’t know a lot. Well, he does. But, if he came back wrong then that means he wasn’t right to begin with and he’s always right and if he’s wrong then—). 

He doesn’t know why he punched Dick. He didn’t want to. Not really. But he did. Want to. Badly so. Wanted proof, wanted penance, wanted forgiveness, wanted retribution, wanted that sting that comes with reality and the regret of a little something called mortality. Horse drawn carriage alongside Death, patting the seat next to it. 

Okay, he knows why .

He doesn’t understand why, though.

Jason doesn’t understand why he gets so angry sometimes. It doesn’t feel good, doesn’t feel right, like he’s supposed to be feeling something else but he’s just flipped upside down so there’s no point in trying to right himself. He’s always right anyway. Yeah. Yeah.

He doesn’t understand why he says things, why he opens his mouth at all when he regrets them so quickly after. He yells a lot. Raises his voice and spits mean words and cusses worse than anyone else he knows and regrets it as soon as it leaves his mouth. But he doesn’t learn. Doesn’t rethink it, doesn’t look back and remember the lesson he taught himself. You can’t be taught if you’re always right anyway, so what’s the point? Why regret it when he’s just going to do it again? 

That’s a big word: why.

There are answers attached to the word. Reasons for the question being asked. Explanations and solutions and resolutions.

Jason is good at solving problems, is quick to work around it and get the job done. And a question is just a problem being asked, right? It’s verbal, that’s the only difference, so if he’s such a good problem solver, if he’s such a goddamn good thinker and understands things like philosophy and literature and great big concepts and words—

Why did he do that? Why did he say those things? Why can’t he make up his fucking mind? Why is he the way he is? Why does he just push and shove and drive away everyone and everything? Why did he come back different? Why did he come back wrong? Why didn’t Bruce love him enough to end things? Why was he worth a second chance when he screws up and regrets so much? Why do people still fucking try with him? Why can’t he get one goddamn thing right? Why is he always—

Click.

“Why didn’t you come to dinner?”

Click.

Red Hood is in Gotham. Nightwing is too. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. The air is cold and there’s ice in the wind. It’s a clear night. A quiet frost coats the rooftop and Jason can hear his brother’s footsteps.

“We missed you, you know. Here, Agent A wanted me to give you these.”

Jason turns. Dick is holding out a duffle-cooler. He stands six feet away.

“They’re just leftovers. Turkey, sweet potatoes, casserole, pie; the fixings.”

Jason doesn’t move. Neither does Dick. To anyone else, it would look like a stand-off between Nightwing and Red Hood, neutral ground tensions. They both know it’s not.

It is cold and there is ice in the wind and the rainy season is long past. When they breathe, it erupts out of them in the form of white vapor and Jason can only think of the fact that it looks like smoke. His lighter still doesn’t work. It sits in his right pocket. He wants to take it out. Hear the click. 

“There’s some beer too,” Dick adds softly, voice carried away and twisted in the sharp air. “I have a bottle opener.”

Nightwing walks a few paces away to sit against an A/C unit, shielding himself from the wind. He sets the cooler down beside him, unzipping the duffle and pulling out two bottles of a brand Jason doesn’t recognize, and pats the space next to him. Horse drawn carriage. 

Why is a big concept. A big word. Maybe one of the bigger questions in the repertoire. 

He doesn’t know nor understand why he takes the offered seat. He just does. It feels right to do so. Jason takes the offered bottle too and opens it himself. Hands back the blade. Takes a sip.

It’s cold. It warms him. 

He doesn’t understand:

“Why?”

Dick swirls the alcohol around, bubbles rising to the surface. “Why, what?” 

There’s a lot of things Jason could say. Could ask. He’s had two months to think about a question that would fit the answer he’s trying so hard to get; one that would satisfy the cavern that just keeps getting wider and wider, this empty presence that digs deeper inside him. He likes to think it would be a really intelligent question, one that would stump his all knowing brother; the one with all the answers in the world and a smile to accompany it. Dick had been on this pedestal for as long as Jason can remember. Had been placed so high above himself, even now, it’s impossible for him to reach, fingers a thousand miles away from ever grazing the top.

A lot of people would tell him he’s done this to himself. That the things he decides to do, his actions, what he says to other people and what they do as a consequence; all a product of his own creation. Even the cavern inside of him, filled with stalagmites and cobwebs and so many empty boxes, perhaps he did that to himself. He— He did that. To himself. 

But Jason doesn’t like being wrong. Doesn’t like the fear that invades every nerve in his body when faced with the possibility of being so far off from the mark that it comes back and strikes him in the face. He’s paid the price for being wrong, has the scars and the memories and the stories to prove it, but he’s also been right, over and over again, and it feels so good to be right.

It felt good to punch his brother.

It felt good to have a reason to do so. 

The anger, the fear, the possessive guilt that clung to him in those months where Dick was dead and he was at the wheel, knowing he was going to crash and burn eventually and probably take everyone with him. He played the long game and knew the end result. Jason had fooled himself with the thought of taking Dick’s place, thinking he could climb up that enormous pedestal he had placed there himself all those years ago. Torn down and resurrected today.

He doesn’t have a question though. Not a singular, all encompassing question that would piece together every missing hole inside of him and fill the void. His mother used to tell him he talked too much, that a big mouth like his would one day get him into trouble. She also told him that he was smart and curious and kind and so much more than anything she would ever be able to give him. Jason doesn’t understand why she said so many contrary things.  Wishes he could ask her, have the opportunity to finally get the answers he wanted from her when he left everything behind just for a chance to do so. He can’t though. She died. He died too.

Dick didn’t.

“Why did you leave?” 

His brother stops swirling the contents of his bottle, choosing instead to release a heavy sigh that travels into the air in a thick cloud of tired gray and remorse. “I wasn’t in a good place at the time. Leaving felt like the only good thing left I could do. Batman gave me the mission and I… I took it.”

“What part of letting us all think you were dead was ‘good’? How does that translate to ‘good’ in your world?”

“I wasn’t a part of that decision,” Dick says pointedly, setting down his beer and thunking his head back to rest against the unit. “I was still comatose by the time Batman had broken the news to everyone else. I told you, Hood, I had no choice. Leaving was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it was all that made sense to do.”

He pauses, a hand coming up to scrub at the sides of his face. “Robin had just… died. Protecting me. I got captured by people with faces I’ve known my entire life and couldn’t escape them. I let myself get hooked up to that- that machine and exposed my identity to the entire world. Do you have any idea what that would’ve done to you all, had I stayed? Everyone knew who Nightwing was under the mask. It would’ve— People would have figured the rest out soon enough. When Batman offered me the opportunity to at least make something right, I took it.”

Something unsettles inside Jason’s chest. Leaking, fracturing. It feels wrong. He feels- “So, what? You left because you felt bad ? Gallivanted off as soon as the opportunity was presented? Oh, I’m sure you’d love to do that again. Hey, Nightwing, tell me, are you feeling bad right now? Would you like a one-way ticket to Spain? I bet that’d make you feel much better.”

Dick frowns, head swiveling to look at Jason. “If that’s how you’d like to picture it, then fine. Yeah, I felt bad about exposing my entire family’s identities. I felt bad about letting down Batman and getting myself taken. I felt bad about dying and not being—”

“Quit fucking saying you died! You didn’t. You put on a good show, I’ll give you that, but having a model that looks just like you being buried in the ground doesn’t qualify as you dying. Get the fuck over yourself.”

A sharp crack meets his words and Jason snaps his head over to see Dick’s bottle broken against the ground, the older man having knocked it over with his hand.

Nightwing’s white lenses are staring at him and Red Hood meets his gaze unflinchingly, if only for the reason that he can’t see his brother’s eyes. There was something to be said about clear eyes in a city full of smog and endless voids, and Jason has looked enough people in the eye to know when to blink and walk away. The dark does not have a gaze to collapse within and yet there is empty white surrounding them.

“Come with me.” 

Why is too big of a word.

 Jason follows anyway.

He’s at the end of his rope in asking questions he knows no one will be able to answer. Knows that the answer he wants is not one anyone is willing to give, or even can give. See, Jason knows why. Has an understanding with the concept in a personal way unlike anyone else will ever have. He knows, understands, gets exactly what the question demands with all of its little fallacies and conundrums and ever so many follow ups. If he could, Jason would shake hands with it, an agreement to never speak a word of its existence ever again. But, how could he ponder the question when he himself cannot bear to fathom his own existence?

Nightwing is already scaling down a fire-escape, duffle-cooler slung over his shoulder, and Jason watches his head disappear below the roof line. He stands up, feet numb and hands feeling bitten, and side glances the broken bottle and the one he’s leaving behind. Even with the bleak, gray weather, the glass twinkles and shimmers in the ice, and, just faintly, Jason can smell the alcohol in the wind. Gotham is a city filled with muck, grease, scum, and litter. There is no difference in adding their own to the ever increasing pile, and yet Jason cannot help amend himself with the thought that at least their trash is beautiful in the cold.

He walks over to the edge of the roof, peering down to where he can see Nightwing traveling up a different, rusted ladder, ready to seek a new vantage point for wherever it is he’s decided to lead Jason. He doesn’t have his helmet on tonight, just a plain domino to hide his face, and the frost cuts against his nose and lips. A shiver runs through his body and Jason slides down into the alleyway below, keeping his brother in eye-sight. Nightwing launches a grapple, clinging to another building about 200 meters away, and Red Hood follows suit, the chill buffering inside of his jacket.

They arrive at one of those motel looking buildings, the outward appearance completely abandoned. Bruce had built this many years ago, one of the first of several safe-houses, and for all intents and purposes, it served to only attract the kinds of people that knew how to keep their mouths shut. The “general office” is where Dick walks into, a separate facility from the boarding rooms. He waits for Jason to enter, having taken a back door of four inches of solid steel, and locks it behind them once the younger has entered as well.

Dick throws the duffle onto one of the chairs inside the room, and rolls his shoulders in a circular motion, a long sigh escaping him. Somewhere, Jason can hear the heater kicking on.

He thumbs his lighter.

Click.

He isn’t sure what he’s supposed to be doing, waiting by the door for Dick to make the first move. His brother says nothing though, continuing to move his joints around and rub his hands furiously together. He doesn’t even glance at Jason as he leaves the main room, entering another side door and into, what Jason assumes is, a bathroom. Left alone, Jason keeps his boots on and sits down.

Click.

He waits. Peels off his mask and winces at the pull on his skin. Rubs at his eyes and forehead. Sighs.

Click. Click.

He stares at the domino in his lap, regretting having taken it off. Dick could look him in the eye now. He didn’t— He doesn’t like that. You only look people in the eye when you want to convey something, be it emotion, honesty, or purely how much you don’t give a shit. Jason doesn’t know what it meant when he looked at all those people in the Narrows a few days ago. Doesn’t know what it meant when they looked at him. Who was he, then? He was no one. No one. 

Click.

The bathroom door opens and Dick steps out wearing a thick tank top and a long pair of joggers. Just beyond the cracked doorway, Jason can see his Nightwing suit hung up against a rack. The remnants of irritated skin also pepper his brother’s face, red and splotchy. 

Dick looks up and meets his gaze.

Click.

“This the part where you try to argue yourself right?”

His older brother frowns. “No, it’s not.”

Jason looks away.

Click. Click. Click.

“What’s that in your pocket?”

“Just some old lighter. It doesn’t work.”

“Ah.”

The stiff silence reverberates between them. Normally, when conversation isn’t invited, Dick would go off somewhere and find something to do; something in his head urging him to seek out an offering. It was a tactic the older man used often, something to hold or something else to focus your attention on making an otherwise shaky atmosphere comfortable. When he was still Robin, it was a ploy Jason found himself enjoying sometimes, where Nightwing would meet him on some pre-designated roof carrying hot chocolate or donuts and Jason would gripe to the older man about Bruce’s latest restriction or Batman’s newest growl. Their conversations would last well into the night and it was their secret they kept together, a fall-back to go to when things were too uncertain or days were too long.

Those memories were nice. Fond, even. 

Dick does not have an offering this time.

“Did you believe I was dead?”

Jason sucks in a breath, fingers stilling against his lighter. “Yes.” Pause. “I wanted to.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” Jason fires back. “It was on live television for Christ’s sake, Dick! Half the world watched you die.”

“It’s not as if doctored film has never been done before, even if it was live. At some point, it cut off too. I’ve watched the video myself. My death wasn’t shown on screen.”

“There was audio. I could hear your heart stopping on the machine.”

“There was a lot of fighting going on. It was chaos.”

“Fine, I didn’t see you die and the video was shit. But Bruce told us you were dead. Batman told us you had died.”

“And Batman doesn’t lie.”

“Fuck you.”

Dick sighs, leaning back against one of the walls. “Look, I’m not trying to pick another fight with you. I don’t want to.”

“Then what. Do. You. Want,” Jason grounds out, rising from his chair. “I’m sick of this. I am so sick of not knowing what the fuck is going on with you and Bruce, with all of your little secrets and fake-deaths and—”

“It wasn’t fake,” Dick interrupts, standing his ground. “It may not have been for long, but my heart did stop. I died in that machine, Jason, and I’m upset you guys accepted that.”

“Well, what the fuck else were we supposed to do?” Jason erupts, flinging his arms wide. “Fucking poke at your body until you were alive again? Wait next to your corpse in the morgue with your suit on hand, just in case you decided to wake up?”

“You could’ve at least doubted, ” Dick hisses. Jason can hear the heater still humming. The room is cold though. Bitter. “At the very least, you guys could’ve looked into it. Bruce isn’t the perfect, untouchable beast we’ve made him into. He left a trail. A trail that would have led right to the fake body he created while I was comatose. A trail that would have shown the Batmobile needing repairs it shouldn’t have needed. A trail that would have shown the documents he forged to get me into Spyral. There were so many things, Jason! So many goddamn things that would have shown you guys I wasn’t dead!”

“If you wanted to be found so badly, why didn’t you tell us?” Jason snarls, that leaking fracture in his chest pooling into his lungs. “Why didn’t you say a single word if you were so desperate for someone to notice?”

“I already told you,” Dick says quietly. “I needed to make things right. Bruce offered a way to do it and I needed that; the space, away from everything, everyone, in my life that I knew I had failed. I don’t regret it, and I am sorry it caused so much pain, but—”

Click.

“—was it really so wrong to want someone to save me?”

The leak implodes and Jason stops breathing.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

“I know it sounds ridiculous. I should be able to handle these things, but I— there was this moment where I convinced myself that none of what was happening was real and that it was all some nightmare I was watching.”

The blows had stung and burned in the way only rusted metal against bone and flesh could. His left eye was bleeding and his nose had been broken long ago. After the thirtieth strike, Jason had somehow convinced himself it wasn’t real. That he wasn’t there, in that old warehouse, and that he wasn’t some child-soldier-hero being beaten to death by a maniac who laughed and giggled at his pain. 

“When I woke up, I really believed that. I-I was so convinced and then Bruce showed up and gave me this mission and, god, Jason, how could I have ever said no? I had failed. Bruce told me I failed. ”

He remembers that sadistic clock in the corner. Silent up until the last ten seconds. It had its own little tick, a click, and it was the stupidest looking bomb Jason had ever seen, bright red and just any old alarm clock with a few extra wires. A nightmare. All just a nightmare and Jason had begged the universe for him to wake up. For someone, anyone, to save him. For Batman to come swooping in and rescue him from his stupid fucking mistakes but—

Click.

Dick breathes out, a shuttering exhale that rocks him to his core. “Spyral, the mission, everything after… It was my penance, I think. Bruce’s way of forgiving me for failing. There was just no other way, Jason. It was all I had left. I guess I had just hoped someone was still in my corner, even after fucking it all up, you know?”

He does. Jason does know with a clarity that haunts him every morning he wakes up and finds the events unchanged. There are cobwebs and old boxes inside his cavern, the place where his soul used to be, but he knows. He knows he came back wrong. That he came back different. That something inside of him was missing when he opened his eyes to mystic green and an emptiness that plagued him until he came back to Gotham; rage, fear, and a deep sadness taking up that empty space inside of him. He doesn’t know how many times he’s asked himself ‘why?’ only to ignore the answer given to him. Too many. 

And maybe Dick has asked that same question as well. Maybe he has his own cavern deep inside of him, filled with his own fragmented cobwebs and starved crates, ghosts that continue to follow his every step, and whispers that forever ring in his ears. Perhaps the dead carry memories and questions wherever they go, and perhaps that is their sole purpose. They only stay to recount and wish and want and only breach the word “if” and “maybe”. 

But they are alive now. They live. They breathe. 

Jason thought death connected himself to his elder brother, but perhaps it was the voids inside of them both that bound them together. The desperation that clung to their beings, seeking approval, seeking retribution, seeking out anything that’ll make them feel whole once more after having been stripped bare and left in the throes of Death's carriage. This was the tie that bound them together. It wasn’t Bruce. It wasn’t Robin. It wasn’t death.

It was simply the missing pieces inside of them. Brothers not by blood, but by the very nature of their search for meaning. And that was all.

“Yeah,” Jason says, the molten gravity of this answer leaving him boneless. “Okay.”

Dick stares at him with the same clear eyes he’s looked at his younger brother with since day one. Something passes behind those eyes, a shift in the monumental focus that is Dick Grayson’s ever present gaze, and the heater continues to thrum in the background, just as ubiquitous as Gotham always was and always will be for them. There was a fundamental alteration inside them both, something taken from them that can’t be replaced, and Jason feels as though he is not alone anymore. There is another presence, another existence, in his life full of betrayal that shares the same scars and the same emptiness that has captured him since the day Bruce stopped hoping for him.

“Okay?” Dick repeats quietly, and Jason can hear the echo inside his chest. “Is that all?” 

“No,” Jason murmurs, easing back into the chair he had left. “No, it’s not. But I… I can’t do more of this right now. I don’t want to.”

“I don’t either,” Dick sighs, the exhaustion from his own ordeals weighing down his shoulders and causing him to slide down the wall. “It’s— I never wanted to, Jason. You know that, right?”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. I guess- We deal with it, right?”

Jason wants to laugh. Maybe give a little less weight on his back to the warm air around them, but it sounds like a lot to do. He exhales instead, something maybe interpretable as a tired grin lifting his mouth. “Another time, then?”

Perhaps that is a statement that can’t be guaranteed nor promised. Time is scarce in their world, more so than anyone else's, but it is a scarcity they are well accustomed to. Death had departed in Its carriage, the seat left warm by their presence, but for now, they had left and that was all that really mattered. Why they left, why they need time they don’t have, why the caverns inside of them exist. All questions that have been answered before. Maybe when the sky isn’t gray, or when the rain isn’t pounding against fractured ceilings, they can begin to make amends and go from there. But the safe-house is warm.

It is warm.

“Another time.”

[queen0fm0nsterz]

*Slides a 5 dollar bill* So what are some of your ideas for those Little Nightmares fics?

OH BOY ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO KNOW.

Weeeell, I have various idea that I'm writing down all at the same time. I'll list the various AUs here.

The Gang! AU

Ok no this isn't some sort of Criminal AU, I literally didn't know what to name it JSKDKS

Anyway, I'm actually writing this along with a friend of mine. It's based on a rp we had and it's quite long. We're writing one chapter each, I'm currently finishing chapter five. It kinda follows the story of Little Nightmares 2, but at the same time is canon divergent. Does that make sense?

We added two of our kid OCs to travel with Mono and Six!

Their names are Zip and Emerald respectively, from left to right! Zip was made by my friend while Emerald is my kid. The art was done by me!

They're not the only OCs we made for this story; we also have five glitch kids, a couple of bullies and a patient from the Hospital.

Since it's long, we decided to split it into three parts. The first part takes place in the Pale City, the second part in the Maw and the third in a location made up by us that we're still crafting.

The good news: Mono doesn't get dropped and Runaway Kid is alive!

The bad news: everything else literally every single thing

It's gonna have a good ending, though. It's the least we can do after everything we put these kids through😭

Restaurant Maw! AU

Just the monsters of LN put in a modern setting! Not only that, it's Maw employees centric!

Basically in this AU the Maw is a very well-known restaurant and hotel, in a very similar fashion to the bathouse in Spirited Away. The Lady is obviously the boss, the Ferryman becomes the driver of the Maw's personal bus, Roger is the keeper, Bellhop is still a bellhop and also the maître d'hotel (aka the guy who makes sure the guests are comfortable etc.), the Chefs are still the Chefs - their names are Bruce and Bernard! And lastly, the Nomes are a bunch of waiters, bellhops and cooks.

Things are going very well for eveyone until one day the Chefs go outside for a smoking break and they find a baby in a box. They take her in and keep her hidden for a couple of days before the Lady invitably finds out.

She decides to let them keep her with the condition that they raise her on their own and take care of all of her needs wihout bothering her - which of course doesn't happen at all and eventually all the employees in the Maw grow attached to baby Sawako nicknamed Six.

This one has all my favorite tropes: slice of life, found family, and I'm hoping to achieve comedy (which is very complicated for me because I have a very dramatic style).

Plus the Chefs are italian because I'm italian and I claimed them, so if you want to see one of them teach the Lady how to swear in italian you came in the right place.

RCG and the Pretender Live! AU

And they lived! I started writing this immediately after I finished VLN but I was blinded by pain so it's a little messy. I have to edit it.

But basically the point is: they survived! But are stuck on land. The first to wake up is RCG, who I named Valeria, and she spots the Pretender a few feet from her and realizes that somehow they both managed to float ashore. Luckily for her, the Nest is now very far away, although they can still see it from the distance.

At first she wants to leave the Pretender there, but then decides to bring her along, tying her hands behind her back first. And so begins the girls voyage in the big wide world, trying to survive and becoming besties in the process.

Im debating wheter I want the Pretender to develop a little crush on RCG or not. Mhhhh. I'll let you guys know.

Mono Jumps in Time! AU

THIS ONE WAS INSPIRED BY THIS ADORABLE FANART BY @kelpermoosee !! Go check them out their art is adorable!!! This is also a Mono centric AU!

So basically! When Six is kidnapped by the Thin Man and Mono goes to save her, his high distress and strong, swirling emotions lead him to not only travel from a place to the next, but to also accidentally go back in time.

He jumps out from a TV but, surprise surprise, he's not in the Pale City anymore. He's landed right in front of the Pretender, who immediately takes a liking to him and wants him to be her new friend. Mono is extremely confused and at first and doesn't realize what happened, so obviously he tries to go back to the Pale City, but then he sees a girl in a yellow raincoat and immediately assumes she's Six.

He assumes that's where the Thin Man brought her, so he tries to run after her, but he's costantly hindered by either the Pretender or her staff. Will he ever get to "Six" and realize that he jumped in time? I'll decide, because this story is still under construction.

Six Forgets! AU

You know that quote from the comics?

"What's the last thing you remember? Tell me. If you don't tell us, you're sure to forget altogether."

Beautiful. And also what prompted me to come up with this AU.

Some things to clarify: the Eye is a collective conciousness that feeds off from negative emotions, the Thin Man lives but can't leave the Pale City, and The Lady is a grown up Six. The Maw kids from the comics are here! Plus a few OCs of mine.

And lastly: Six couldn't handle the guilt from dropping Mono and repressed all memories involving him altogheter, so she completely forgot about him.

Six gets on the Maw, but this time instead of waking up in a suitcase, she's brought to Roger adn the other children by the Ferryman. There, she befriends a few children but no one gets closer to her than the Runaway Kid. They both want to be free and plan an escape together.

In the meantime, Mono is still trapped in the Signal Tower, but he's convinced that Six let him slip by accident and that she'll come back for him. (The Eye is very frustated with him bc they be planning on feeding on his sadness and rage and then he has the audacity to be hopeful? The nerve!) That's until he gets a glimpse of his best friend and this unknown child through one of the TVs on the Maw, joking and playing with each other, and she confesses to this... no one, really, that he's the best friend she's ever had.

As you can imagine, Mono goes feral. The Eye couldn't be happier.

Chaos ensues! We got a lot of angst, violence, Monster!Mono and also some wholesome moments. Also out of context spoiler: RK and Six lead a revolution.

The Lost Ones

This one is just a bunch of quick drabbles that talk about the glitching remains. They all deserved better.

Hunter and Veronica

I was not gonna miss the occasion of writing simp hunter. Take it or leave it.

Based on my Hunter theory!

My beautiful terrible disaster of a man works on the Maw as a chef, but no one really knows why since he's not good at it. Fortunately, the vast majority of the Guests is just too hungry to care and the current Lady, a woman with a scarecrow mask, doesn't want to fire him. A few Guests have complains, though; for example, a Teacher who seemingly never blinks and a very massive Doctor, whom he befriends.

One day, a filming crew gets on the Maw and the Lady informs her staff that they will be staying for a while to film a commercial-documentary of the restaurant, which will bring more and more Guests. With the crew came a famous, very talented chef named Veronica who has her own extremely successful cooking show, who offers to help the current chef as a thank you for letting them stay without having to pay.

Initially the Hunter is not too happy about this. In his eyes he doesn't need the help, but they start getting closer and closer with time.

This will probably be wholesome but end in a very bad, tragic way. I'd say I'm sorry but I'm not lol

✓✓✓

And that's it for now. I have some other things planned with my monster OCs (btw y'all wanna see them?), but this is the whole thing. It may be updated in the future since I always seem to get more and more ideas!

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Eight

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 8 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: abusive parental relationship; extreme canon violence (gun violence, hand-to-hand, baton use, knives); strong language; mentions of drug smuggling, drugs, and human smuggling; mentions of blood and blood loss; major/minor character death (not the mains, don’t worry!); angst; gunshot wounds; heavy alcohol consumption

Word Count: 14,600+

A/N: Listen... you know damn well I had to put some American Pie lyrics in this. The reader’s and Jackeline’s relationship is not modeled after Nat and Yelena lol it was literally the biggest coincidence. 

~

MedBay - The New Compound, 2024, 1:52 pm     

     “He did what?”     

Bruce smiles sheepishly as he lugs Steve’s practically lifeless body onto one of those beige medical beds. Dr. Cho is pacing calmly around the room, getting her instruments cleaned and ready. She tries to ignore the way you’re crowding her, inspecting everything she touches and in turn is going to end up touching Steve.      

“He took a bullet for someone.”     

“And where is that someone?” you bite. You immediately want to apologize to Bruce for your tone but you’re distracted by the tiny groans of pain coming from the pale super soldier beside you. You have to look away to avoid whimpering yourself, but you can’t exactly make yourself deaf. “Don’t tell me he took a bullet for you.”     

Bruce rolls his eyes and steps to the side as Dr. Cho begins cutting away Steve’s pants. “Everyone else is on vacation. He has no one here to take a bullet for besides. It was a shitty liquor store robbery and Steve was, of course, being a hero.”      

“Where’s he hit?” you ask, heading over to grab a pair of gloves yourself. No one questions it.      

“Femoral artery. Seems like he was plugging his own wound until he could get help.”     

Dr. Cho is right. There’s a massive gash in his thigh that’s leaking excessively and the skin surrounding the wound is raised like Steve’s own fingers had plunged so deeply it left an imprint. Not only that, but his hand is covered in his blood. So is Bruce’s, you realize, because he had tried to plug the artery as well.      

“How is he not dead yet?” Dr. Cho more mutters to herself than to you guys. Steve’s head is lolling to the side and his lips are an awful shade of white. His eyes are fluttering open and closed… open… closed… and he’s still mumbling random phrases. There’s a rough tug at the bottom of your stomach that pulls and pulls and there’s a weird urge to crawl onto the table to keep Steve warm.      

“He needs blood,” you say, even though all parties in the room know that as fact.     

Bruce, however, winces. “Sam’s not even in the state right now and I don’t think we have enough time to fly him-”    

“Is he Sam’s blood type? What’s his blood type? Why can’t Bucky do it? Bucky’s in Brooklyn, he can be here in five minutes if he runs.”    

Bruce starts rummaging through the upper level shelves and freezer cabinets. “Can’t mix the serums. We’ve tried.” He finally finds the blood bags, pulling them all out and spreading them across the clean tables. “It’s - shit - do we not have?”     

Dr. Cho is now covered in blood, working as fast as she can to close the wound. “What’s his blood type?”    

Bruce repeats it out loud and watches as Dr. Cho’s face falls. “I ran out yesterday. The blood drive isn’t until this weekend. I had a patient come in yesterday, I - I ran out yesterday.”     

They seem to be having their own conversation with their eyes and are too focused on each other to see you already stripping your long-sleeve shirt and wrapping that horrible blue rubber band around your upper arm. “Me. Take mine.”    

Bruce immediately shakes his head, stuttering as he tries to remove the rubber band. “Nu-uh, I don’t know if you know this but you’re human. I need two bags, three tops. I can’t just take it all from you right now!”    

“Then get me some cookies and a juice box. I don’t care how much you have to take to make him speak a coherent sentence. Do me.”    

Bruce hesitates but he rushes to the cabinets for the needles, vials, tubes, whatever - “No, do it direct.”     

Your words startle the two doctors but they don’t question it. They hook you up and poke the needle in the first vein they find, attaching the tube instead of a single vial and direct it to Steve.      

“You sure your blood matches?”     

You give Bruce a pointed look as if that isn’t something written on your dog tags or on your weekly personal reports.      

In the end, you’re told that you gave him the equivalent of two pints of blood. Not that you were awake for the second anyway but you vaguely remember Steve’s voice ringing in your ears. You’re not awake as he regains consciousness or to witness his very confused glare at seeing you in the bed next to him.     

He swears he heard small mumblings… ‘If you die because of some highway robbery, Rogers --- I’m never gonna fucking stop bullying your grave --- haunt it’.... ‘Stay --- with me, please’.... ‘---supposed to apologize first’....   

He tests the waters, mumbling a name he only says with annoyance nowadays. But now, it’s gently said. Soft, a whisper that sounds like a fractured hymn. 

Present Day, 2025, 12:05 pm

     There isn’t a set emotion in the world that seems appropriate. What are people supposed to feel when they’re singled out and chosen to suffer a life of pain? Self-hate? Pity for themselves? Anger? Sadness? Remorse? Nothing?

You really don’t know what you’re feeling. In the middle of rubbing vaseline on your newly acquired cuts and scrapes and bandaging yourself up, biting on a belt as Bucky set your shoulder back in place, and lying with Steve discussing everything and nothing all night after your promise - well, what the hell are you supposed to feel? As inevitable as it was considering he had ordered you shot before, the one feeling you know you feel is betrayed. Because even though Ernesto has proven himself evil time and time again, to his own flesh and blood, there was still a small part in your heart that didn’t think any parent truly wanted to inflict pain on their children. And your heart keeps proving itself wrong again and again.

“You just... jumped out of the car?”

Ramirez’s voice snaps you from your inner thoughts. He was let out of custody this morning. He’s currently filling in anyone who asks about the shipment, about Ernesto’s future plans, about the role he thought he had.

“Against my better judgment, but yeah.”

He chuckles and grins like he’s a kid hearing the best story ever told. “That’s what superheroes do. At least, what I’ve seen in the movies. John Wick, Bond, esos tipos.”

“I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, Omar,” there’s a teasing tone, “but I’m a fucking Avenger.”

That makes him laugh louder and in turn pulls one from you. “Ya se, ya se. I’ve known you since you were born. It’s weird hearing stories about you saving the world and jumping from bombed cars.”

“Mm, wait until you hear about that time I went into space and landed on another planet. Or time traveled. Take your pick.”

He’s stunned into silence and after a few more praises, he lets you return to typing out your report. There are plenty of other agents around for him to busy himself with. The base is tiny and not at all what you expected, but it’s secure enough to fit Torres, Sam, Bucky, and about fifteen other agents as they prepare for tonight. The plan you and Steve outlined was simple: attend the wedding, butter everyone up, send Steve away to help Ernesto retrieve and move the shipment, Scott and Sam will infiltrate, Bucky would be on standby to help you fight, and the rest of the team at base will begin arrests and sweeps. If everything goes according to plan, at least.

It’s easy to speak negatively about these things - there really were only two ways this could go.

You finish your report and go to stand, only realizing a minute later walking through the base that Ramirez is following you. You send him a funny look over your shoulder and he returns with a small smile of his own.

“Tengo preguntas!”

You stop and let him catch up. “Hmm?”

“Okay,” he starts, motioning his hands wordlessly until he could form them. “Are you and the Captain actually... juntos? Or just Avenger partners?”

“That’s personal, Omar,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “But I guess? That’s weird discussing with you.”

He nods in agreement. “It’s okay, I was just curious. So, him being mad was just an act? He doesn’t really hurt and threaten you, no?” He’s treading lightly, but you can already see the cartel mind turning. He would order Steve’s execution if he had to, even if he believed it to be morally wrong in some situations.

“Never. It was just an act for Ernesto.”

“Ah, Dios. Thank goodness.”

“Yeah, keep your men in line. It’s fine.”

He chuckles at that. “And the other Avengers?”

“They’re my family, Omar,” you grin wide, waking slower for the old man to keep up. “They would never hurt me.”

“That’s good, but not what I was asking.”

“Oh?”

“What are they like?”

Handing your report to one of the agents at a handful of monitors, you laugh loudly. “Do you want to meet them officially?”

“Aye, I know my daughters would like that...”

You raise an eyebrow.

“But I would like to meet them, too.”

“That’s what I thought. C’mon.”

The rest of the team are all relaxing and discussing the past days events in the lounge area, which is really just a glorified break room. Bucky’s still in his morning sweats same as Scott, Torres is already suited up, and both Sam and Steve are wearing their Avenger gear (minus Sam’s wings and Steve’s battered shield). Steve is the first one to notice you enter and he instantly gets up from his chair to greet you with a kiss on the cheek.

“Gross,” Bucky mumbles.

“You’ve been trying to get me a girl for over ninety years, Buck. And now that I’ve finally got someone who likes me back, you bully me for it?”

“Who’s bullin’? I said the same thing when Agent Carter smooched you in the weapon’s room and you thought you were alone.”

You pat Steve’s shoulder. “Think about it, Rogers. When Bucky settles down with someone, you have free reign.”

Steve pulls a thin smile and glances back at Bucky. “I’ll make them hate you.”

“Love and hate are the same thing, pal. It worked out for you two.”

“Okay, we’re done. Everyone, Omar wanted to formally introduce himself.”

Ramirez gives a shy wave. Torres returns it. It’s kind of hilarious to witness. Here you all are, Avengers and some standing over six feet with one of the most wanted drug lords in the world, and the all mighty drug lord is shy. 

“I’m so sorry we got off on the wrong foot.” You notice how when Ramirez speaks to strangers or those he deems good people on his side, his accent is a little thicker. It’s like he wants to speak only in Spanish other than the Spanglish you were all accustomed to. “But it really is an honor to meet you all.”

Scott is the first to stand and shake his hand. “Sorry I pointed my gun at you, man. Habit.”

Ramirez chuckles, “Sorry I broke into your room.”

Steve interjects, “Thank you, though. For telling us what more we’re fighting for.”

Ramirez nods, a solemn look spreading over his face. “The minute I found out, I didn’t know who to tell. I’m lucky you were never truly on his side.”

“And what will you do after all this is over?” Bucky stands. “How do we know we can truly trust you?”

Ramirez sneaks a glance at you and you raise your hands. “Hey, I’ve got the same questions as him.”

Ramirez must know he isn’t getting out of this one because he answers quickly. “Drugs have a market where people choose. I just meet supply and demand protocols. I don’t do the unnecessary violence or blackmail. There is no need to. People will always want drugs.”

There’s a round of agreement throughout the small room. Ramirez continues, “But smuggling humans? There is no choice, nothing moral about it, it’s evil.”

“But people get addicted to drugs. They die from them everyday,” Sam argues.

“I produce and deal what you American’s call weed. Ernesto does the big stuff, as does White. I’m,” he laughs a little. “I’m their weed guy.”

“That is true,” you confirm. You’ve moved and packaged Ramirez’s product before. “Literally just weed.”

Everyone seems deep in thought, like their processing Ramirez’s words and the weight behind them. Ramirez ran with the big boys and was the biggest distributor of marijuana in Mexico and America alike, but he never messed with any other product. Besides producing, selling, and smuggling illegal weed, his only other crimes included conspiring with Ernesto on how to get the product over state lines.

“Okay,” Steve starts. “So how is tonight gonna work? We have to discuss that.”

Ramirez bows his head. “You’ve allowed me safety, you’ve listened to me speak, and you’re saving both my life and my daughter’s. If you must arrest me, then you arrest me.”

“The minute you’re transferred to a prison with less security, Ernesto’s men will get you,” you reason, already shaking your head no.

Ramirez gives a nonchalant shrug, “But you’ll get him and White. That’s all that matters.”

You look over to Steve for some other ideas, but like you he doesn’t have any. No one seems to have any.

Torres matches his shrug and his voice is small as he speaks, almost like his next idea is insane. “We can always put him in the Raft.”

Everyone’s eyes go wide.

“That’s where all the enhanced humans go, no?” Ramirez is stunned. “Do I count?”

“We’ve got no idea,” Steve rubs at his chin, looking at you for confirmation he knows you don’t have. “But it’s an idea.”

     The plan is no longer singular. Fury had sent his best field agents for the job, the ones with the best aim, the ones with great strategic planning. Although you and Steve were still in charge, it was no longer just your mission. Your mission was to arrest the big three, big four when including Seda. That was it.

The plan goes like this: half the team will be focused on the venue itself, hidden in the shadows and monitoring the big three as well as your mics, and will aid you in the physical fight and arrests. Some are on the ground while others in the sky. Afterwards, they’ll sweep the estate and collect stolen property or priceless artworks. The other half is split into two, where one of those halves will be spread out for miles to capture anyone that might slip through, like guests who were on the most wanted list or guests that have helped Ernesto in the past. The other part of that half will intercept the shipment (once Steve radios in the location), save the hostages, and shut down the routes. 

They instruct Ramirez to call Ernesto and to ask him if there’s a vegetarian menu offered. Ernesto responds with only a muttered groan and in a wild turn of events, asks if Ramirez can call you to make sure you arrive earlier than expected to make sure Jackeline walks down that aisle. He’s completely serious. Not only does Ramirez play along, but Ernesto doesn’t give any indication that he knows about the car bomb. So the team makes a judgement call: this was only Seda’s doing.

Ramirez is then told that the Raft is not an option; both the US and Mexican government want him and the only reason he hasn’t been arrested is because he still has many cards to play. The more he helps, the less time he’ll get. 

One thing is known: this is the biggest mission anybody has been on in over two years. 

      Bucky remembers things in bits and pieces. Sometimes he’ll be minding his own business, enjoying this new world and the countless amenities it offers, and remember exactly where he was on the hottest day of the year in 1936. He remembers the blistering heat, boiling his once pale skin and giving him that beautiful olive he was now known for. He remembers the way his tongue dried almost instantly the moment he stepped outside and how he asked his next door neighbor, Ms. Kranshall, for a cup of water before work. He remembers her massive square glasses and how they nudged the tip of her nose as she nodded sweetly at him. He remembers her high but smoky voice and the way she patted his shoulder as he drank the cup down. 

The first time he remembered Natalia was around the same time he remembered Steve. He sees a flash of ember in strands, speed almost matching his, and he sees those panicked green eyes he was once all too familiar with. 

She was twelve when he first met her, forced to throw her around like a ragdoll until her ribs were bruised and her spirit broken. He went again and again, and when he wasn’t forced he would teach her how to fight properly and how to shield her most vulnerable areas. Scared as she was, she never showed it in those private moments, and decided to follow his lead in most things. And she learned to be fierce, no matter how hard he hit, and he still remembers the look in her eyes and the pull of her young face as they yanked him away for cryo before he could congratulate her on winning her first fight. 

The first time he remembered you was when you leapt onto T’Challa’s back as the chase neared, tackling the young prince become king, and watched with sad eyes as both him and Steve climbed onto the jet for Siberia. He remembers your clumsy punches when you fought him with half his brain and how he kicked you so hard you flew. He also remembers how when you took that kick for Steve, the sound of his wail almost deafened the soldier. 

Everytime he remembers something, a memory, no matter how strangled it may arise, the twinge in his chest is good. He’s remembering. He’s James Buchanan Barnes.

He feels that same twinge when a face full of freckles greets him at the entrance, documents raised above her head in a show of selfish glee, and a pep in her step that tells him she remembers him too. 

“Sergeant Barnes!” Maribel gives a toothy grin. “Never thought I’d see you again!”

Bucky tilts his chin up and rests the tip of tongue between his incisors. “What? Hydra wasn’t enough for you, you gotta infiltrate the Mexican cartel, too?”

She scoffs playfully, “Other way ‘round.”

He snatches the documents from her hand and leads her inside. “I hope you got something here. Steve put a lotta faith in you.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Y/N does. That’s enough for me.”

Rolling her eyes, she snatches the documents back to turn the pages herself. “Follow me. We need to chat in private.”

“Shouldn’t we get-”

“I’d rather you know, and you tell them later. No audience.”

This causes Bucky to tense. He follows her in further and closes the door behind them both. 

The left side of her face had less freckles back in 2012, he remembers, and now she’s covered in them.     

Bucky remembers things slowly, but he remembers them. 

      It’s cold outside, air bruising your skin, and there are hundreds of goosebumps now erupting. You joke with yourself that in the end, you’ll most likely have to ask Steve for his jacket and ruin your overall look but hey, you’ll be warm. The wedding doesn’t start until five in the evening and it’s one’oclock right now, and there are white clouds in the sky instead of gray and the songs of some desperate birds searching for their lunch near your ears. It at least drowns out the constant noise of the agents hammering away at each other and preparing for tonight.   

It makes your stomach roll: these agents are putting their lives at risk because of you. 

     You stepped through the discarded papers and tried not to leave your footprint anywhere important. His office was empty, left in a state of purgatory, and his lamp was still on. It’s like he stepped out for a minute.

You picked everything up: pens, computers, books, chairs. Under everything, there was dust. 

He really did die.

As much as you wanted to step on his remains and spit on him, you couldn’t. The gash in your heart was still open and bleeding for everyone else and there was no room left for anger. You were indifferent, for lack of a better word. Frustrated?

A paper crumbles outside his office. No one had followed you in - a week after the snap and every single person on earth was still searching for loved ones or running from something - so no, no one else was supposed to be here. Mexico had been hit hard, it’s government shattered, and every cartel was picking up pieces or tearing the world further apart. There was no line anymore. 

You twisted around and aimed your gun at the door, immediately lowering it when you saw Natasha raise her hands. She had this embarrassed smile on her face like she knew she had been caught.

“I meant to say hi over your mic. But you turned it off.”

You sighed deeply and dramatically shrugged your shoulders. “Well, I’m here. Guess who’s not.”

Natasha only nods and steps further into the room. She looks over the same things you did. “He’s gone? Good, good riddance.”

“But his death means nothing if trillions of others died also. It’s so fucking typical of him. If he’s going down, he takes everyone else with him.”

“He didn’t take them, Y/N.”

“I want to be happy,” you spit out through clenched teeth. “I want to feel relief. The fucking bastard is finally gone and I can’t even enjoy it properly.”

Natasha takes one more look at the hallway before letting her guard down almost completely. She envelopes you in a hug, squeezing tighter each time your breath hitches. “Hey, listen to me.”

“He’s gone.”

“I know,” Natasha’s voice is low and reminds you of the gentle hum of record static. “He’s gone and he can’t hurt you anymore.”

“But everyone-”

“No,” she pulls away and places both her palms over your neck. “He’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

It takes a while before you’re nodding along, repeating her words gently.

“You’re more than the pain he inflicted. You’re more than his name or crimes. You’re worth more than his impact ten times over. He can’t hurt you anymore. I know everyone’s gone, and we’re going to fight like hell to bring them back, but in this little moment, this little thread you can pull - pull it all out - he can’t hurt you anymore.”

She’s all muscle and bone and blood and real. What would you do without Natasha?

     The grass beneath your bare feet calms you down. It’s tendrils are a little ticklish and there are droplets of silver morning water fog melting as they touch your skin. Focusing on the feeling isn’t enough to get you out of your own head and for a wild second, you think the God of Thunder is going to come up behind you and hold your hand. It’s peaceful out here, but what you wouldn’t give to see him again. 

The day before Steve and Carol returned the stones, he had been here. He did as he promised: the second the flood of happiness extinguished like a Christmas candle, he found you settled in the mass of pillows with only instrumental music playing. He left for two cups of tea, sat in silence with you as you both drank, and whispered a strangled ‘I’m sorry’ as if you weren’t meant to hear it. Apologizing for someone who did come back, and you for someone who didn’t. 

‘You know I don’t regret what we did. We brought everyone back.’ 

‘Don’t try and justify your sadness. Not at all, not with me.’ His voice was stern and his eyes serious.

‘I’m sorry he didn’t come back.’

His eyes had closed, as if he was expecting that apology, and he looked out the window where the sun was just barely rising, shining on him and him alone. ‘I’m sorry, too.’

There are footsteps, though. Heavy ones, footsteps that announce his upcoming presence on purpose so as to not startle anymore. Bucky was too generous for his own good. 

“Had a visitor.”

You remain silent as Bucky sits next to you, looking up from his spot and expecting you to sit as well. “There’s water on the grass.”

“There’s water in the air in this godforsaken state, now sit down.” A push of laughter escapes your lungs but you follow his instructions anyway. 

You sit in silence for a few minutes, admiring the way the pine trees bend slightly with the gusts of wind and how the birds have changed their pitch. You expect Bucky to speak first so you occupy that time by playing with the strands of wet grass. 

“In 1997, I was taken out of cryo for a mission.”

You wince on accident. This wasn’t how you expected the conversation to start. 

Bucky continues, “There was this man south of the border.” He points south to prove his point. “Hydra wanted to take him out because he was interfering with the drug routes they were monitoring.”

“Hydra controlled drug routes?”

“Hydra had their heads in plenty of places. They didn’t control them, but they did monitor them.”

You shake your head in understanding. “And this man?”

Bucky sighs heavily. His eyes are focused on the gentle yellows behind the trees instead of you. “He was told to take out another man traveling through and out one of these drug routes. He made a different call.”

“Who was your visitor?”

“Maribel.”

“Wha-?” You go to stand but Bucky gently pushes your left shoulder back down. “Why are you telling me this and not her?”

“She wanted me to tell you. And I guess, in turn, you tell Steve and the rest of the team.”

“Bucky,” your voice trembles on accident. “Tell me.”

“The man I was ordered to take out was Maribel’s brother.” He chuckles at your frantic shuffling and pushes you down again. He continues, “Hey, it’s okay. She never knew him and she doesn’t hate me for what I was.”

You don’t really believe him. But his face isn’t telling you otherwise. You're stuck between wanting to dig for more information and giving him a giant bear hug. “Did you… succeed?”

“The soldier ever rarely lost.”

Your face contorts. “Bucky…”

“He disobeyed orders, Hydra didn’t like that since it disrupted the drug routes, and so I was sent to help. Hydra didn’t seem to care about the man he let go, though.” Bucky shrugs and starts playing with the grass behind your hand. “The thing was, Maribel’s brother had been doing this a long time. Ernesto was on Hydra’s radar but in a good way. Maribel’s brother was also given very specific orders from one other person - their mother.”

The story pieces are all discarded haphazardly, pieces that are from different boxes and don’t seem to entangle properly. 

“She told him to let the man go. Because this man was an American, and killing an American on Mexican soil was something that was impossible to hide from the claws of the law. So, this American made it back on US soil safely and was never heard from again. Until 1998, when he tried to re-enter Mexico under a false name but with one purpose. To see his newborn baby girl.”

The yellow behind the pine trees fades into orange. 

“Are you saying-?”

“Maribel’s mother kept everything your mother left her when she tried to cross the border herself. Your real birth certificate, her real birth certificate, you.”

Bucky looks over finally, sad smile and all. “Maribel thinks, and now I think, that Ernesto isn’t your real father.”

There are so many questions formulating at the base of your skull that you don’t really take the time to absorb the news. “What did she bring you? What was in those papers?”

Bucky seems startled that your reaction wasn’t one of shock. “Like I said, Maribel’s mother kept a lotta things.” He pauses momentarily before speaking again. “Blood results was one of them. Still trying to authenticate them.  The American was a doctor, after all.”

“A doctor,” you whisper. 

“A doctor. He changed his name but he’s alive. Maribel’s checked.”

“Why would she tell me this now? Why now just hours before the wedding? Isn’t that why you guys didn’t tell me about what was really in the shipment?”

Bucky winces and his expression tells you he’s sorry. 

You continue, “Why now? Why does it even matter anymore?”

He inspects you quickly, scanning your features for any signs of discomfort. “You’re okay? I thought this would surprise you more.”

The chuckle you release is dry, kind of harsh. “It actually answers a fuckload of questions. Like, number one, why he fucking hates me.”

His eyebrows scrunch together. “You think he knows?”

“If he doesn’t, then he’s a super fucking asshole instead of just a fucking asshole.”

Bucky pauses again and smiles up at the sky. The clouds are white and extra large today, and he suddenly remembers the taste of that mini popcorn he had bought and shared with his little sister Becca… Becks… while watching Snow White and the Seven Dwarves at the theater. The salt and butter had stuck to Becca’s fingers and she had wiped them on Bucky’s sweater. He remembers scolding her for that but giving her a napkin in between his giggle fit. He feels the same swell in the meat of his heart listening to you. “We don’t deserve you. You’re like the moon. Always there, shaping yourself into what that person needs, crater after crater beat into you and yet, you move the tides.”

The little snort that leaves your nose hurts a little. “That’s pretty damn poetic for this moment of ‘you’re not the father!’”

Bucky bites his lip and smiles toward the yellow and orange hues. “Like the moon.”

      The hotel had replaced the door, no questions asked. The reason Sam decided to bust open the door instead of using the very functional key you had given Torres? No one knows. But the poor receptionist was told that you couldn’t possibly change rooms because this was top secret business and you absolutely wanted to slap Scott upside the head for worrying her. So they fixed the bolts and gave you all new keys. 

Didn’t matter much anyway since you weren’t sleeping here tonight. You had already packed and made the beds. 

You lay your dress and Steve’s dress attire on the respective beds. The dress sent over was a backless red silk, spaghetti strapped and slit on the left side - you’ve wanted to wear it since it arrived when Scott did. 

Steve knocked before entering the room. You almost laughed at the gentlemanly aspect of it. “Thought for sure they’d have kept you for another hour at least.”

“I gotta change sometime. That your dress?” Steve shrugs off his uniform and climbs on top of his freshly made bed.  

“That’s my dress. Sort of skimpy for a wedding, no?” You hold it up to show him the front and back.

“Does ‘skimpy’ mean bad?”

“Means slutty.”

He gives you this disappointed look, like he’s judging your vocabulary. “I wouldn’t use that word. So no.”

You silently apologize and move the dress over to the end of your bed. Everyone else was also getting ready for tonight. Agents were posing as local police, many infiltrated the wait staff, suits were being double-checked for any malfunctions. There was so much going on, but all was relaxed in your room. Steve smiles at you from his bed, head resting in his palm as he leans up to stare at you. It’s impossible not to blush under his stare, so you move to climb into his bed. You lay down with your feet to his head, the sides of your hips pressing together; just two upside down puzzle pieces. He chuckles and goes to lay on his back, right arm coming up to lay rested on top of your right thigh. 

“All this week I thought I wasn’t ready.” You’ve had no more nightmares. “But I am. I’m ready to end this.”

He runs his fingers delicately along your thigh. “I’m ready to help.” He sighs deeply and cranes his neck to try and meet your gaze. “We’ll make sure they get maximum time.”

“You know that’s not our call.”

“Still.”

You rest for another few minutes, gentle touches calming you. His body is so warm, emitting sweet thoughts like the beginning of spring heat, and it’s impossible not to curl up into it. Steve breaks the comfortable silence, “What are you thinking about?”

You suck in a breath and tell him the truth. “That in the matter of like… five days, you and I are basically lovers now.”

“Lovers?”

“Lovers.”    

He laughs out loud and goes to sit up.  “I intend on taking you out when we get back home.”

Lifting your head, you rest on your elbows and grin at him. “Oh? And where are you planning on taking me?”

He thinks for a second before pressing his lips together and giving up. “I have to ask Peter or Wanda. I have no idea where you go during the day to eat.”

You laugh, “Seriously? I could’ve sworn you tagged along once or twice.”

“Nope. I always refused.”

You frown slightly, “Riiight.” Not wanting to rehash the reasons why, you try to soften any wrong feelings about what that implies. “I’m sure you’ve been, though. I take Bucky places, too. Ask him.”

“Mmm, I have my pride. Can’t have Bucky thinkin’ he knows more about my girl than I do.”

You smile largely now and hope no lipstick rubbed off on your teeth. “Your girl?”

Steve averts his eyes like he’s just now asking for your name and if you’d like to go dancing. There’s a beautiful scarlet glow painting his pale cheeks. “Like I said, I’m taking you out and asking properly.”

“We’ve already surpassed third base. I remember it vividly.”

His smile falls comically and he turns to grab a throw pillow to smack you with it a couple times. “Crude! Crude as always. Goddamn.”

“I’m sorry! Hey, I’m sorry!” 

He stops his attack and pulls you into his chest. He warms your back instantly. “So, you’ll let me take you out?”

“I really, really like french fries,” you hum lightly and tilt your head back to lean into his shoulder. 

“That narrows it down, thanks.”

You chuckle due to his sarcastic tone. He rubs his hands up and down your arms. An idea formulates while in the warmth of his body. “You know what I really want to do after we finish with this?”

“What’s that?”

You tell him honestly. “Rent a cabin. Spend a Christmas there, maybe. Catch some fuckin’ fish. Experience the snow properly.”

His eyebrows furrow like he’s dissecting such a claim. “I… wasn’t expecting that.”

You shrug, “Sounds cool though, right?”

“Got room for one more?” He looks down to meet your gaze and there’s a glint of hope shimmering in the blue of his eyes.

       “Nat… Natasha.”

Natasha took in a sharp exhale as she lifted her head from the desk, left cheek numb and pink. Steve shot her a funny grin and continued shaking her shoulder until she fully opened her eyes. She slaps his hand away with a huff of laughter. 

“Come here to do your laundry? You know, there’s only so many times I can help prevent shrinking shirts.”

Steve scoffs, “I used to do laundry by hand. I can figure out a few buttons.”

“You would think.”

Steve rolls his eyes and bumps her shoulder with the palm of hand before speed-walking into the kitchen. “It’s one of those days.” He opens the high cabinets and pulls a few vodka bottles. 

Natasha pushes down whatever was starting to eat at her. She calms her deep breaths and rises from her chair. No words needed to be exchanged. She makes her way over to pull two glasses from the same high cabinets. 

Steve watches her a little hesitantly, but she has that lopsided smile that pinches through only one cheek and her eyes are the slightest bit swollen from her power nap, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. She tilts her head to the other side of the kitchen, that lopsided grin gracing her bare feet. Steve fumbles through a few cleaning supplies and some plastic bags before he finds the bottle. 

“I hid it after… after Thor had that meltdown a year ago.”

Now, he was second guessing. It was a small bottle, only half left, but half a bottle of Asgardian liquor was enough to knock the God on his knees. For Steve, a few sips would do the same. But he needed it, he needed it, god help him. It’s been four years, he needs it. “Be my designated driver?”

“How about you spend the night? Y/N wanted to start a new show anyway.”

“I’ll be passed the fuck out during the opening credits.”

“But you’ll be here.”

Steve sighs and pops open the bottle. Natasha puts her hand up to stop him from pouring, “Check under that sink again.”

His eyebrows pinch together but he does as instructed. More cleaning products… more cleaning products. He tilts his head to look at the corners and there it was: a small, pink paper airplane taped mid-flight. Steve hunched his shoulders to grab it and crawled out carefully. “You know, you’re not supposed to tell me where you hide them.”

“Well, I felt bad! I’ve found like fifteen of your blue ones and how many do you have of mine?”

“That’s besides the point-”

“Say it. You’ve found six.”

His cheeks turn hot. “I’m not here all the time.”

“Excuses.”

“I leave mine in good spots. You probably got better eyes or something.”

Natasha laughs, loud and from her chest. “Sure. But hey - I’ll promise you somethin’.”

Steve pours the Asgardian liquor into his glass and straight vodka into Natasha’s. “What do you have in mind?”

“You find more than me by the end of this year, and I’ll take that vacation.”

Steve takes his first sip and tries not to pull a hard face. “You’re on. But what if you win?”

Natasha raises her glass and clinks it with his. He wants to apologize for forgetting to toast but her eyes are playful and forgiving. “You come with me. I’m not the only one who needs it.”

“So, I win regardless?”

She takes a sip and pulls a funny face. “Easiest battle, don’t ya think?”

They’re off their right minds twenty minutes into drinking and the common area is chaos. Pillows are thrown, the TV somehow ends up with dozens of fingerprints, and they’ve broken a couple flower pots. The cushions of the couch know Natasha’s bare feet and Steve’s boots; the walls fail to constrict their loud singing; Rhodey has already snuck past them to get himself a snack undetected. 

‘And so I cry sometimes when I’m lyin’ in bed, just to get it all out what’s in my head!’

‘Hit the high note, Rogers!’

‘When you do, I will!... I scream from the top of my lungs-’

‘What’s goin’ on? And I say, ‘hey!’ ‘hey!’ I say ‘hey!’ What’s goin’ on?’

Steve’s still clear-headed enough to twirl Natasha around. She’s flexible enough to climb onto his shoulders.

‘I pray every single day - for a revolution!’

She’s starting to slur her words and Steve wonders if that blond streak in her hair was there last week. 

‘The story of my life! I take her home, 

I drive all night to keep her warm and time, 

Is frozen!

The story of my life, I give her hope, 

I spend her love until she’s broke inside!

The story of my life.’

She can longer feel her toes but seeing Steve let go makes her so incredibly happy and breaks her heart. I needed this too, she thinks.

‘So, bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry

And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye

Singin', "This'll be the day that I die

This'll be the day that I die!”’

She’s all muscle and bone and blood and real. What would Steve do without Natasha?

     “You wanna come?”

“Sure. I’ll cut down the trees for wood. Have a real fireplace.” He’s serious, you realize. Like, really truly serious. 

Your heart swells with excitement and some other feeling you can’t quite place. But it’s good, like really good. The sigh you release is full of sweet wonder. “A real Christmas tree.”

Steve tightens his grip around your arms. “December’s right around the corner. Trees should be ready and standing tall.”

It’s almost too much to imagine. You have the sudden urge to talk specifics, to plan out this vacation. A beautiful, rustic cabin with only a coffee maker brought from the outside century, knitted quilts, real snow, Steve’s body heat, Christmas lights… inviting Sam, Scott, Wanda, Peter, and Bucky down for Christmas dinner and presents. A whole sleepover filled with ghost stories, candle burning, board games, Christmas movies. You’re up and tucking your knees under yourself to look down at Steve in an instant. “You’d throw on that checkered shirt, grow out your beard even more, and chop down a few trees for me? With me?”

“There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be,” Steve says, eyes crinkling. For a second, he’s worried you’ll realize that he’s quoted your letter. But that same moment, you’re giggling with excitement over your future plans.

“Well, we lasted a week here without killing each other. The holidays always hold a few surprises.”

Steve picks up another pillow.

       Business is not conducted during the church service. It feels normal, with half the guests attending the service and watching the happy couple exchange vows, while the other half only arrives for the party. 

Jackeline’s dress is modern with a mix of vintage - simple, with long sleeves of lace and fabric that isn’t entirely white but with hints of beige; the dress dips lower in the back than it does in the front, and it’s tight near the waist but loose as it drapes down her long legs. Her hair is left loose and her make-up is heavy, and she illuminates under the sun rays that burst through stained cathedral glass. You don’t even pay mind to Ernesto and Seda seated in the aisle in front of you - not when Jackeline looks the way she does. 

As the service ends, Steve tells you to wait until most of the guests exit. The priest eyes him warily, inspecting his young face and build and obvious persona. He says nothing, but he places a gentle hand over the cross on his chest as he follows the guests out. Steve stands, and out of respect dips his fingers into the holy water provided near the heavy wooden doors. He signs the father, the son, and the holy ghost and dips his fingers in again to sign the same on you. With a silent thank you and tender wipe to your forehead, you don’t question it. He’s not Catholic, or at least you don’t think, but you know he does it for what’s to come. No matter your beliefs, he just wants something, someone, to protect you. You turn back to the cathedral and grip the door as you bend down to one knee and tip your head. 

       Everything is grander, that’s for sure. The decorations are tripled; the violet lights are reflecting like diamonds off every marble and glass surface; the chandelier’s are no longer gold sculptures but diamond; the clay flowers hanging from the ceiling yesterday are now a part of the centerpieces, squeezed in with the largest bouquet of roses and violets; the live bands (because of course there are two) are each still setting up as everyone is getting seated; and there are about fifty round tables circling the large dance floor. There’s still a nice view of the lake and the pine trees ahead, and the tarp was abandoned as there was no rain in the forecast. All in all, and there were a thousand other things you could focus on but didn’t have the energy to, everything was beautifully put together.

Jackeline wasn’t lying when she said half of Mexico was attending. Besides family, there were celebrities in attendance, famous musicians who were simply guests and not performing, family of some of the other biggest drug lords from both countries (minus Europe), and a couple politicians who dipped before the new couple even walked through the doors after seeing Steve. But Steve worked his magic like he had yesterday and had everyone eating out of the palm of hand in pure amazement. He even had a famous actress hanging off his shoulder in under three minutes. Walking away to go congratulate Jackeline, Steve doesn’t miss the quick, sarcastic flick of your middle finger aimed in his direction.  

“You’d tell me if you needed my help, right?” Jackeline asks after a while, bottom lip dripping champagne. She wipes it gingerly, careful not to smudge her pink lipstick. 

“I would if there was anything wrong,” you respond truthfully. She pauses to swallow her sip and squints. She follows your gaze to Steve, whose right arm is being tugged by a girl who looks about twelve with five multi-colored bows trailing down her french braid, and who is also trying hard not to blush at the very attractive actress he can’t seem to get rid of. 

“You’re going to stop him, aren’t you?”

You glance to your left, but it isn’t really a question. Jackeline knows. “Yeah.”

She nods and tilts her chin up, eyes still on Steve. “Make him watch as you burn it down.”  You know she’s referring to Ernesto. She continues, “Every last bit of it.”

Smiling down at your feet, you raise your glass at nothing in particular. Just to salute the night air and whoever is watching. A few seconds pass as you both watch the guests enjoy the music and appetizers. Jackeline shuffles in her heels but she doesn’t seem to want to leave your side just yet. “You run, you understand?”

She’s only momentarily startled by your words. “Okay.”

“I never meant to leave you here, Jackie. I just had to find a way out first.”

“You found a loophole,” she chuckles, but the next moment she’s serious. “There is no way out.”

“Might not be,” you admit, downing your glass in one shot. “But I know this. He can’t hurt you anymore.”     

      You don’t exchange more than a few words with Steve before he’s called by Ernesto’s men and motioned toward those massive dry lava rock doors; doors that don’t muffle sound but are strong enough to withstand a bullet wound. You watch him leave with them, and he shoots you a smile over his shoulder to simply look at you. Your eyes swell only slightly, burning the corners and blurring everything. He’s bright and brilliant, walking head first into Hell and shining like the bolts of Zeus.

Steve has faced giants before, from all backgrounds and all worlds. He has blocked their punches, taken near mortal injuries; stared them in the face with every ounce of anger and determination his cells could produce. There was always this whispered voice in his head that warned him of the last day he would pick up that shield. In 1945, the voice was loud and raging as he drove that nosediving plane into the Arctic. Over the last few years, however, the voice had quieted and let Steve ponder his fate himself. Steve swears the voice, or rather his own conscience, is getting tired. 

He listens intently, responding only when spoken to, and prays his mic is picking up every bit of this conversation. Ernesto commanded the room as he screamed orders in both English and Spanish. His men fell in line; some as determined as the old man, some quiet, some bothered. Didn’t matter what the orders were. Steve noticed the few who would glance at one another and speak their distaste with their wandering eyes. And when Ernesto would speak directly to Steve, the same men would pinch their lips into a thin line and glare. 

The shipment had arrived mid-conversation and as men were sent out to do their jobs, Ernesto kept Steve behind. I need you to stay with me until the shipment is secure and can be moved - you’re my bodyguard, Ernesto had told him, confident and only slightly bending his back in discomfort from the weight of the day. Steve agrees, and hears Bucky mention how they have eyes on the shipment from the sky. 

Steve stays by Ernesto’s side even when Ramirez is called in. He’s prepared for a bloodbath, for two big men to cement their graves in this tiny office, but it doesn’t happen. Or at least, it doesn’t happen yet. Ernesto regards Ramirez as an old friend and finally trusts him enough to tell him what the shipment contained. Steve isn’t surprised, however, when Ernesto takes nasty satisfaction at Ramirez’s horrified expression. Because even though Ramirez had already known, the confirmation adds a multitude of terror. Steve can feel his palms sweating. 

As expected, Ernesto tells Ramirez that he plans to use his lands for his gain. The safe thing to do would have been to agree, to nod along, and to live in the knowledge that the shipment most likely wouldn’t head out. But Ramirez, for some reason Steve can’t fathom, stands up and says no. 

Steve understands now; the odd shaking of your shoulders even when your face was completely blank and emotions calm. He watches the beads of sweat drip from Ernesto’s forehead onto the tip of his nose; he watches the way his chest heaves as his voice becomes louder; he watches until he can’t take anymore and he enlarges the shield with Scott’s tech and tells Ernesto to move away from the other man. Steve understands now - the man really is scary, even if he wants to admit it or not.

      “You really are a phenomenal actor.”

Swaying slowly, you try not to step on Seda’s feet as he guides you across the dance floor. The music is calmer than it was five minutes ago, the guests are enjoying dinner and conversing, and Steve had told you fifteen minutes ago that he would be right back. Ernesto had sent you a malicious wink, but you knew better. Steve’s name was written in blue and Ernesto’s real target had to be you. 

“Acting with what? Acting that I enjoy this dance? Acting like I respect you?” Your upper lip twitches into a teasing smile. “Or acting like I don’t know it was you who planted that bomb?”

He matches your smile, looking down at you with a glint in his eyes. His grip around your waist tightens. “Acting like you’re really on our side.”

Lowering your voice just a fraction, you lean in, top of your head level with his chin. “I’m on Ernesto’s side. You almost had me and my Captain blown up.”

His left hand is settled on your shoulder and he uses the opportunity to dig his nails in. All around him, his men are watching. “How did you get away?”

You give a dry laugh. “You think that was my first bomb? It was childsplay.”

Seda scoffs, “You speak of this Avenger business like I don’t know who you are. You’re still that scared little girl who hid in her room when alien’s fell from the sky.”

“I may be. But there’s a difference between you and I. I actually stared them in this face and won.”

“The second time, maybe”

Sticks and stones, but goddamn did those words always hurt. Blame goes a long way but you and your team are used to keeping it close to home. “Why do you want me dead?”

His scowl deepens and the wrinkles by his eyes crinkle over each other as he squints down at you. “The Avengers are not secretly on our side. Tony Stark never was but Ernesto loves to tell people otherwise. Same about your Captain. You’ve been playing us for years.”

“What evidence do you even have? For years, we’ve done nothing but clear the roads for you,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. 

He unwraps his arm from around your waist and sets both hands around your upper arms. He’s pressing down as hard as he can but still loose enough not to draw unwanted attention. He breathes a sharp exhale, and the puff of air hits your cheeks. “I don’t know what happened to my men after you got what you deserved. They were good men and just like that, erased.” He smirks. “I know you had something to do with it.”

A guest with bright red hair laughs loudly to your side as she is twirled around by her partner. It’s not as vibrant as you’re used to, but you still imagine that lopsided smile you hadn’t seen in forever. “Does it matter? You know what they did, so why is my hypothetical revenge chastised?”

“Tell me right now that none of your Avenger friends did your dirty work. Tell me your Captain’s hands are clean.”

“I promise you, my Captain is clean.” Seda doesn’t show any signs of believing you. Still, your mouth twitches into a mocking smirk. “But our once mutual friends Tony and Natalia tell another story.”

“Am I supposed to believe that two people who are dead are responsible for this? Ironic,” he grits his teeth.

You repeat, clear and true. “My Captain is clean.”

He fakes a tiny gag but you know he means his disgust. “You turned over so quickly for him. For the heroes who destroyed the world. Pathetic.”

“You really need to stop underestimating me,” you practically order, voice full of warning and annoyance. 

Seda continues, “Following orders from a fascist. Following orders from a country that only does harm.”

He turns you around as the dance instructs, a half-hearted waltz that didn’t have a beginning, middle, or end. You take that second to scan your surroundings and weigh your options. “I agree about the country part. But I don’t follow orders from the country, I follow them from my Captain.”

You’re facing him again and in those hellish eyes you see truth. “No, he’s a symbol of everything we hate. Of everything we need to destroy.”

“Touch Steve and I’ll blind you.”

His feet stop mid-step, as do yours. His eyes widen only a little, but it’s all the ammunition he needs. “I knew it.”

It’s barely a whisper, a tickle from a single strand of hair, but you catch it. No longer keeping it a secret, or rather a secret you didn’t care that you let slip, Seda now knows it was all a lie. All this time you had never referred to Steve as anything other than your Captain.

You feel the blunt head of a .22 press against your abdomen as Seda laughs, “You never could get a mission right.”

Twisting his arm and knocking the gun from his loose grip with your wrist was easy. So was catching the gun mid-air and elbowing him in the ribs. Seda falls to the floor in a state of shock, instinctively gripping his chest. You aim the gun at him and like you’ve seen in the movies, place the tip of your heel just below where his belly button would be. He releases a sharp breath and his eyes are challenging, practically begging you to dig deeper and get on with it. 

You can hear the screaming and frantic murmuring from the guests surrounding you and the leveling of guns from Seda’s men. But you’re focused on the man trying so hard not to quiver beneath you, his nasty grin spreading wider. 

“You’re alone,” he bites. “Your Steve is helping Ernesto right now, no? You’re alone.”

Your grin forms slowly, and you’re counting down the seconds you have until his men start firing, but you lean your upper body down slightly to make sure he hears you. “That’s never been a problem before. Don’t you remember?” You click back the safety as discreetly as possible. “I was trained by the Black Widow herself.”

You quickly raise the gun to shoot the closest of Seda’s men in between his collarbones, effectively starting the bloodshed. You jump out the way in a flash, rolling across the floor and behind a table. Tipping the table over is easy and it seems like a smart idea at first, until you realize the tables are all glass. The tablecloth had covered that detail, which sucks like hell, because now the bullets are shattering through and you’re forced to kick yourself away and run behind the pillars instead. The heels are kicked off at the same time you’re fishing underneath your dress. 

A stray bullet hits the pillar’s side making you squeal. It makes you work faster, though. 

Once you find the secure nano-tech ‘button’ (as Scott liked to call it), you strip as quickly as you can and slap the button on your bare shoulder. The nano-tech spirals and threads into itself as intricately as frost spreads on a window, shielding you in both metal and kevlar. 

When a storm of bullets hits the pillar and cracks the marble, you’re forced to crouch and hope Seda’s .22 and the myriad of weapons you’re now equipped with are enough. Before your thoughts can creep into a ‘last man standing’ mode, a roar of wind sweeps across the estate and between the cracked pillars, causing your loose hair to slap your face and blind you for only a second. Quickly putting your hair up and pulling the metal batons from the back of your suit, you’re met with the best sight - one that was a little late, in your opinion. 

“Kind of you to show up!” 

Sam ignores your quip as he flies into three men at once, feet first with his wings extended with the might of a guardian angel. He immediately shields runaway guests who were caught in the middle. He takes the ones on his left, you take the ones on his right. 

You let them swing first. They’re fast and pulling their punches and are clearly aiming for the end result of sticking you to the ground. But you’re quicker and deflect the punches. You manage to deliver a solid punch upward to crack the nose of one. As he reaches up as instinct, his ribs are open season. 

He falls out cold easily after your batons do their damage and the next man isn’t nearly as fast as the first. He doesn’t move enough to his right to avoid the harsh kick to his sternum. Each ambitious kick to the chest seems to demolish the man’s protective wall he’s trying desperately to keep intact, but once you give your legs a break and switch back to the batons, he doesn’t stand a chance. There are bullets raining across the venue, but Sam is shielding you and deflecting them elsewhere. It allows you the freedom to rip into whoever you think deserves it. 

You’ve got two men on your tail and after knocking their weapons from their hands, it seems like a fairer fight. The first doesn’t step back far enough to avoid your roundhouse kick and he falls hard on his ass, gasping for a lick of air. The second is closer, however, and manages to wrap you in a chokehold. Releasing yourself to fall deadweight for only a second, gravity tricks him and you use the momentum to kick up and fly over his shoulders. It’s hard to do without a wall to propel yourself off of. But your abs and thighs are clenched and you don’t quite think you’ll actually end up on this guy’s shoulders but you do. You don’t dwell on that moment of personal pride, though. Tightening your thighs, you use your upper body weight to lean downward and wring his neck. Once he’s down, you sweep your leg around across the floor to trip the other man who was just barely standing back up. With the .22, you fire point blank. 

Detaching yourself from the gore has never been much of a challenge. Eyes rolling back and clouding, limbs dangling limp after having just been full of life, bodies thumping against the floor after eating your bullets - you don’t so much as grit your teeth anymore. 

Sam is dealing with his own mess closer to where that poor cake is now destroyed, vanilla filling exposed and now two stories instead of four. The other cakes are no better. Sam pulls the trigger once more at someone charging at him and he averts his eyes. Sam, however, clenches his jaw. 

“Where’s Seda?” you shout, firing at men who are jumping out from behind tables but giving away their location before they even surprise you. 

“Lost him. I think he’s heading over to Steve!”

You look over the room and pray everyone got out safely. There are no civilians lying in their own puddle of blood, no guests begging for help, but you can never know for sure. “We need more hands. Where the hell are Scott and Bucky?”

A storm of bullets starts crashing into the tables and pillars beside you. Trying to duck doesn’t work and you’re grazed in the left arm. Sam tackles you behind the stage, wings extending further and out bending around you. 

“I’ve been shot!”

Sam can’t help the laugh that erupts from his throat because of your dramatic tone. “You’ve been grazed. The nano-tech has already rebuilt itself.”

“I don’t care, I hate being shot. It’s not nice. I’ve been hit.”

“Dramatic.”

“Y/N?” a harsh whisper sounds from under the stage tables. Watching your eyes bulge paints a mournful expression on Jackeline’s face. Julian is right beside her, pistol out but not shooting. You wonder if he knows you’re the invader.

“What in the hell are you still doing in here? I told you to run!”

“I’m sorry,” Jackeline squeals as bullets continue firing. “Everyone crowded. I was scared so I just got down.”

“Sam.”

Sam nods, already reading your mind. You had to find Steve; you couldn’t stay here. But there’s bullets still blazing in your direction and you find yourself hopping on your ass slightly each time a bullet connects to the ground beside you. The nano-tech does great in deflecting the lead but it really isn’t an invitation to get shot more times. The graze on your arm is already starting to burn. 

“Sam is going to guide you both out of here, alright? Julian, cover her. Sam will cover you.”

There’s a war going on behind Julian’s eyes. His face does a thousand things at once as he hears your orders and the scream of guns combined, but he nods. He grips Jackeline’s waist and pulls her in close, but before they can begin crawling Jackeline turns back to you. 

“Mátalo. Okay? Para nosotras dos.” She’s got this fierce determination in her eyes and her accent is as thick as can be. 

“Okay.”

Sam relays his location over his mic and who he has behind his wings, but before he can safely guide the married couple down the stage, a new wave of men enter and open fire. Sam’s wings can only take so much, and even though they’re vibranium, his suit is not. Ducking behind the table and reloading your gun, you then lift your head over to view the scene. It’s a mess and you could surely take them down hand-to-hand if you were close enough, but you’re stranded with your batons and seven bullets and a world of automatic machinery pointed at you. 

The storm of bullets pauses and every single person looks up to the sky. You thank the Gods for no rain today because the absence of a tarp allows for the quinjet to settle over the chaos and create a much needed distraction. Sam takes his leave, wings still wrapped around your sister, and you do the same. Running from behind the stage with batons lit up and tazed, you knock out the closest men. They fall in a strangle of electricity, vibrating and convulsing as each shock travels through their veins, ultimately paralyzing them for however long it turns out to be. This gains the attention of almost everyone else but before they can train their weapons back toward you, the back of the quinjet opens. There were a few tables still standing and it seemed the super soldier liked them better than the flat floor. 

The glass shatters from the impact of Bucky’s weight, glasses of champagne and plates with unfinished meals folding onto the shards. He’s dressed in his tactical gear and a dark navy blue jacket without a trusty sleeve. Even if the arm was covered and his hair was long rather than the short length it was now, the men would certainly know who just fell from the sky. Almost immediately, the men scatter. Bucky takes them down one by one, shot after shot, and decides to use his knives for the ones who don’t run. It’s tricky, but he manages to lodge his knives in the base of the spines of those who later changed their minds. 

He catches your eye after you manage to snap the neck of one of the runners. He tilts his head toward the left and watches you run to give Steve the backup he needs. 

     The mansion seems longer, wider, just generally bigger as you rush through the rooms and halls to get to Steve. The stuffed exotic animals follow your gaze and you can’t ignore them for long. There are men following you and men leaving Ernesto. You duck behind the standing polar bear and wait until the footsteps sound farther. Checking the amount of bullets in your gun, just in case, you finally flick the safety off and run.

There’s really only one thing of importance floating around the padded confines of your skull - get Steve out. Another thing you two had in common: both sacrificial idiots. But there wasn’t any way that you would give up the chance to save his life, as he would yours. Didn’t matter if the man you were protecting him from was your father or not. It hadn’t really settled, hadn’t truly digested, and you didn’t think it ever would. Because for years, this man was your father. He was the only man with that title. He wasn’t fatherly, far from it, but he had the label and that’s what you were going to focus on. It made no difference. 

You push the office door open and start stuttering over your words. You want to ask what happened, why there’s so much blood, whose blood it is, but all that comes is a fractured series of what the hell’s? The last syllables push through with necessary force, hardly intelligible, but exhaled at last. 

Ernesto is kneeling with his head hanging low and his hands behind his back, defeated. But it isn’t Steve who’s holding a gun to the back of his head - it’s Seda. 

No, Steve is in the corner clutching at his right hip and gritting his teeth, a wild look on his face that tells you he too was blindsided. He’s hurt. He’s gasping and wincing at the slightest of movements and it ignites the flame you’ll use to burn this world to the ground. It’s splitting your fucking ribs apart. 

“Don’t move!” Seda yells, gun still locked on Ernesto’s head but eyes on you. “Put the gun down.”

“Seda-”

“Put the fucking gun down!” 

Biting your tongue, you flip the gun in your hand so it’s facing downward and move to gently place it on the table. Flicking your eyes to where Steve is, you get your answer as to why he’s been so easily shot. His massive body and shield are draped over Ramirez, who is also disarmed and pissed. 

The self-righteous idiot, you think, he’s always gotta save the little guy.

“We’re gonna talk about this like the gods we are, yeah?”

Your face pulls awkwardly, “Seda, what is happening?”

“Don’t act like you’ve been on this asshole’s side the entire time now,” Seda bites, shoving the head of the gun harshly into the base of Ernesto’s neck. “Go on, tell him.”

“The shipment was intercepted,” you tell him. But you’re not just telling Seda, no, it’s the first Steve is hearing the good news and it allows him to feel a bit of relief. “You’ve both lost.”

“What have you done?” Ernesto screams, cheeks vibrating and face red with anger. He pays no mind to the gun and dares to glare at you. “Tell me!”

The top of your lip greets a run of tears and snot and it isn’t until then that you realize your hands are shaking mid-air and your throat is closing. “My mission.”

Blood or not, this man had the power to tie your thoughts into knots. He only had this power at precious moments and sadly, this was turning out to be one of them.

Seda bites out a laugh - it’s wet and bloody and scares you half to Hell. “I’m not the only one here who wants to kill you. But I’m going to beat her to it. She brought you back, I can’t have that.”

“No!” You curse inwardly at your involuntary hiccup. “We’re not here to kill you!”

“Oh?” Seda raises the gun at you. “What’s the endgame? Que mas necesitas?”

“I don’t need anything. The shipment is intercepted. The estate is on lockdown. Your routes are down. You’re cornered. It’s over.” You let your shoulders drag just a little. “For both of you.”

Surprisingly, Seda doesn’t pull the trigger when Ernesto charges toward you. He doesn’t pull it when Ernesto wraps his hands around your throat, either. 

It’s instinct for you to hold out your hand to stop Steve from doing what he does best. He’s already halfway up and wincing with each push to help you, to rip Ernesto from your capable body, but Seda clicks the gun in his direction. Steve watches the way your arm extends, all five fingers spread in a hopeless plea of ‘don’t you sacrifice yourself for me, don’t you dare’. 

“I have done nothing but help you! I put food on the table and clothes on your worthless back! You spent my money!” Ernesto’s eyes are practically bulging and his thumbs are almost crushing your windpipe, but his placement is off. You can still breathe air, no matter how bruising his grip may be. “This is how you treat me? I should have killed you all those years ago. I should have ripped you limb by limb until your cries bled!”

“Please,” you whimper out, hand still extended toward Steve and the other attempting to push Ernesto by the chest. 

“Please? Please? Te voy a matar aquí, ahora, porque siempre te lo mereciste!”

You let out a strangled scream and are about to fight back. To save yourself and to end Steve’s suffering of watching you suffer, of watching his newfound hope dwindle right before him, when a gunshot erupts. Everyone screams, ears ringing, and there’s blood splattered all over your cheeks and neck, spots and leaks that trail down into the collar of your bodysuit. A heavy weight lands on you and knocks you back into the shelves. You hold Ernesto’s now limp body as best you can, knees locking painfully. There’s a massive hole where the top of his head should be and for the first time in years, you have to look away to keep from throwing up. 

“Dejalo.”

You open and close your mouth but regret it when the taste of copper lands on your tongue. You follow Seda’s order and drop Ernesto to your feet, the thud sending a shiver up every single one of your vertebrae. 

“Por qué hiciste eso?” you ask him, voice small. You choke on another hiccup. 

“Don’t lie to me and say you weren’t going to do it yourself.”

You look over at Steve. His eyes are just as wide as yours and the same red specks, now turning brown, are tainting the flush pink skin of his beautiful neck. 

“No,” you whisper. Steve hears your lost accent returning and it clutches at his heart. 

“It was for the best.” Seda marches over to grab Ramirez by the tie, ripping him up from the ground and pointing the gun to his head. Steve lunges forward and Seda fires another bullet into the same hip. 

“No!” Your throat is raw, scratched, and Steve hits the floor in another heap of muffled groans. Seda returns the aim on Ramirez. 

“Imagine my surprise when I saw this one confronting Ernesto with your Captain. Imagine my fucking surprise when I tried to find all our passports, all our files, and nothing was here! Imagine my surprise when I saw that fucking idiot White being taken away by one of your agents!”

“Seda, please.” You were never much of a negotiator. It was always go in and let the others do the talking. Steve was the talker, he was the negotiator, but he was out of his element. He was always the enemy to Seda. He could never convince him otherwise. 

“You’ve given me new purpose,” Seda grins and Ramirez is rather calm in his arms, like he accepts this. “Look at the crime scene. I’m using the gun Ramirez got from your team. My men are still loyal.”

He pauses and smiles with all teeth, blood in between most of them. “You shot Ernesto. You shot your Captain. You shot Omar.”

The frightened look on your face seems to fuel him even more. He continues, “We’ll never stop hunting you.”

“Try it,” Steve manages, standing up again and vaguely registering the flash of light to his right. His shield is no longer there. “You’ll have to kill me to win. You’ll have to kill all of us to win. Me, Y/N, Omar, Sam.” He breathes in deep but smiles. “The Winter Soldier.”

You swear Seda’s face pales but his grip around Ramirez’s waist only tightens. “Easy.”

“It won’t be,” you finally say, voice no longer wavering. There’s no plausible way Seda could win. But one thing is fact: whether they’re Seda’s or Ernesto’s men, they’ll never stop hunting you now. “You lost, Seda.”

All stills but there are shouts and the ring of gunshots still echoing near the lake. 

“No,” Seda looks to you and to Ernesto’s body. “I didn’t.”

He aims the gun at you and fires. 

Steve’s wail is grease to the fire in your soul and you accept whatever pain might hit. There’s space and then there isn’t. There’s emptiness and then there’s a space being filled by that horrid but lifesaving shield. There’s no one and then there’s Scott, blown up to his regular size with shield in hand and in front of you. The bullet bounces off the shield easily and hits the wall. You’re pushed into motion and in about two seconds, you’ve grabbed your gun again and do not hesitate to fire. The bullet hits Seda in his exposed chest and Ramirez fumbles to get the gun from him. Seda hits the floor and no one else follows. 

The shot hits its target perfectly. Seda doesn’t so much as stutter. 

“God,” Scott grumbles, eyes trying to focus on anything other than the pools of blood. “Was I late?”

You don’t pay any mind to Scott and rush over to Steve, where he’s barely holding himself up with his hip tilted on the edge of the desk.  “Steve? Steve. Did he hit anything important?”

“Besides the fuckin’ meat of my stomach?”

There isn’t a way to see beneath the kevlar, but your fingers have a mind of their own as they try to dig in. “You know what I mean.”

Steve huffs a laugh and gently slaps your fingers away. “No, but motherfuck me Christ, I get shot way too much and it hurts no less.”

“Was the shield not enough? You had to sacrifice your one-hundred year old hips? Are you hit anywhere else?”

“I was caught off guard. What about you? I heard over the mics that you were shot and-”

“Are you two done?” Scott interrupts, clearing his throat awkwardly but half a mind still paying attention to his own mic. 

It’s like you’re snapped back to reality. There’s not only Steve but others, alive and dead, and the smell of copper is all too familiar.  “Sorry, I’m still in shock. I don’t really know how to proceed from here.”

“Y/N-” Scott tries, but you resume.

“We were supposed to arrest them. Just arrest them.”

“Okay, I think we should get you outta here,” Steve acts like he’s the one guiding you, but his weight is falling. You faintly register a phone ringing in the room but Steve, ever so persistent, is still acting like he is holding you up. He lunges forward with a sharp wince, and your hand immediately goes to his hip. 

“Captain.”

Ramirez lowers his phone, call ended, and he wears an expression Steve recognizes immediately. It’s an expression that looks all too similar to Dugan’s when he relayed the news of enemy forces breaching their base. “...How many?”

“They’ve already sent the news to their men in Mexico.”

“Have they shut down the border?”

“It wouldn’t make a difference.”

“They don’t know two of their men are dead, so we can-“

Scott shakes his head, shield still in hand with specks of blood drying on the blue stripe. “They know White was arrested. That’s all they need. They’ll assume the rest, the worst.”

You sigh, “Seda was right.”

Scott literally pouts and he looks like he wants to wrap you in his arms. “No, don’t send yourself there.”

Steve, however, agrees with you. “If they know about White, then they know about Omar. Seda had time to tell his men.”

“Then we make sure he’s arrested and taken to a secure facility. We can keep an eye-” Scott starts, but you shut him down quickly.

“He’s wanted by the US government, not the Avengers. We can only transport him. We can’t guarantee his safety.”

Ramirez gives a small smile. “Mija, voy estar bien. No te preocupes.”

“I don’t know.”

Scott looks between the three of you. He places the shield against the wall near the door. He raises his eyebrows at Steve and looks to his wounds, but Steve waves him off. Reluctantly, Scott nods. “I’m gonna go check on Sam.”

There’s a pool of blood near your boots. You don’t want to know if it’s from the dead or from Steve.  

“Doll, what are you thinking?”

He can’t hurt you anymore. “That I need you to go, too.”

Steve forgets about the pain in his hip and focuses solely on you. “What?”

“Go. If there’s one more thing you can do for me and my reckless family, go check on Sam.”

“You know I can’t leave you here alone with him.”

Your voice is steady and calm and it’s scaring Steve. It’s scaring him. “I promised myself that you wouldn’t be hurt by this mission. I stand by it.”

“I promise, Captain, I have no resentment. Whatever she does, I will follow,” Ramirez speaks, and Steve doesn’t even pay him a glance. 

“I can’t just go.”

“Steve,” you interlock your fingers behind his neck. “Please. Listen to me.” He looks so confused, a million questions flying through his mind and almost escaping those sweet pink lips. Fierce, you whisper for only him. “He can’t hurt me anymore. He can’t hurt me anymore.”

He relishes the feeling of your soft hands behind his neck. They’re bloody, but yours. His neck is bloody, but you don’t seem to care. “Two minutes.”

“Two minutes,” you confirm.

He pulls from your hold and turns to leave. He picks up the shield. Before he leaves, he grips the doorway and looks over his shoulder, eyebrows pinched and jaw tense. “Two minutes, I swear to Almighty Christ, Y/N. I’m coming back for you.”

You smirk, the dim light from the office lamps creating nothing short of a sparkle in your eyes. “I don’t expect anything less, Rogers.”

Steve hesitates for a moment and then he walks away. Once his footsteps are no longer heard, you turn back to Ramirez. There’s a voice in your head telling you this was a bad idea and that you were an idiot to have your back turned on him for so long, but Ramirez is simply leaning on one of the chairs and grimacing at the bloody scene before him. 

“Remember when Ernesto bought you that car when you were thirteen? And then another when your brother crashed it?”

Your nose pinches, “I don’t feel like reminiscing when he’s lying right there.”

“Do you remember what you told me when he bought you that second car? The sports one?”

You sigh. Ramirez was clearly going to continue speaking. “‘No lo quiero. Soy una niña. Get rid of it.’”

“And I did.”

“You did.”

He smiles, and for the first time you notice all the gray hair dusting his head, the most by his temples. There's a limp in his step too but you can’t remember if he had before or after the wedding. “I’ll get rid of this.”

“What?” you blink, unsure if you heard him right.

“I’m already a traitor. If I spin this, you can continue the mission. You can arrest even more of his men. They’ll come after me instead of you.”

It’s what he’s been trained to do. It’s what he’s done since he transported his first shipment. It’s what he’s done time and time again for Ernesto, for Seda, for some of his own careless men. He’s numb to it, just as you were a few days ago, but now you can’t stop thinking about the aftermath. Where would he put their bodies? Would they be buried here or back in Mexico? Would people really care if Ernesto was dead? They didn’t seem to care when he was snapped out of existence. But Ramirez has this sag in his shoulders that tells you he’s already calculating the best way to wrap the bodies and how deep he plans on sending them… or burning them. Burning them was always easier. 

“They’ll come after your family. Your daughters.”

He shakes his head, “I’ve ensured their safety. They’re safe.”

Against your better judgement, you tap your mic discreetly and turn it off. “I can’t let you take one for the team.”

He chuckles, “I’m a part of your team? I’m an Avenger?”

You can’t help but laugh with him. It’s not a light moment, but it’s a moment nonetheless. “Sure, Omar. But we don’t trade lives.”

“I had this coming.”

“No, you didn’t. You don’t.” Straining your ears and shutting your eyes, you mumble a quick prayer in hope that this plan of yours worked. You pass Ramirez your own gun and speak low. “Go.”

He’s shocked and he stutters. “Que haces? Que esta pasando?”

“There’s no one on the east side right now. All the guests were moved to the front. It’s clear. But not for long.” Pushing him to the door, you make sure he’s not leaving any bloody footprints behind. He’s clear. “Go.”

“This will kill us both.”

“But it will give us a head start.”

“No puedo hacer eso! No quiero hacer eso.”

“Omar, they’re not going to protect you once you’re charged. I can’t protect you then. So I need you to go.” You reach into your suit and pluck that random Roman coin you had stolen just a few days earlier. It was a token of good luck but you didn’t need it anymore. You avoid looking at the carving for fear that the likeness to Steve will make you change your mind. You place it in Ramirez’s hand and clench his fist shut.  “If there’s one thing you can do for my stupid, anti-hero mentality, go.”

“Que hago con esto?”

“No me llamas. But let me find this.”

He looks at you with pity. It’s so much pity and understanding for your situation that you have to look away. “I owe you my life.”

Eyesight now on the wall over his shoulder, you offer him a thin smile. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

He stumbles at first, unsure if this is really happening, and finally passes by. “Y/N.” 

You figure it’d be pretty rude not to answer. You turn slowly. He continues, face somber and head shaking with so much pity. “The amount of Hell that’s coming...”

It’s funny, really. You shoot him that famous smile you were known for. It tricks him like it’s supposed to. “I’m already going to Hell for the lives I’ve taken and the crimes I’ve committed. But the journey to my fate has been worth it.”

     The estate is being swept as quickly as possible. There are agents dressing wounds, reading rights, snapping photos, on the phone, etc. It’s organized chaos and there’s so much happening but it’s never impossible to catch Steve’s side profile in a crowd. His nose is pinched up and he’s dealing with his wounds himself. No one is even looking at him. 

Speed walking to him, you hook your arm in his and turn him around. He’s too tall, and your toes strain as you rise on them, but you wrap your arms around his neck anyway. He returns the gesture and squeezes you as hard as you’re squeezing him. After a few seconds, he whispers quietly.

“Where’d Ramirez go?”

If he saw your eyes, he would know you were lying. You keep your arms in place. “He got away.”

He tries to push you away but fails. “Y/N.”

“He got away,” you repeat. Slowly, regretfully, you pull back.  “We should go.”

There’s a horrible crease in between his eyebrows and he knows he’s caught you in a lie, but he also knows that if there was one thing he knew most about you, it was that you were just as stubborn as he was. Quick with wit, always asking to be punched, and stubborn to the point it made strangers worry. So he doesn’t question it, and turns with you in the direction of the jet.  “Maribel has the safehouse set up. Montana.”

“You sure you can make it to the jet? Should I get Bucky to come with us?”

The quinjet is empty except for a few supplies, a medical bag, and Friday. There are only two seats and by the way Steve’s bending over to show his true pain, you’d be flying it. Once you land, you can fish out those bullets.

“No one else.” Steve bites. He can’t risk anyone else - hell, he doesn’t even want to risk you. “I’ll protect you.”

You board the jet and watch as the trees sway in rhythm to the movements of everyone doing their job. It’s dark, and you push the fact that you’re so horribly night blind to the back of your skull, and it’s starting to eat away at you that the mission didn’t really go as planned. No one seems to notice yet that you never brought them the two main players they were hoping for. It only makes you close the quinjet faster. You sit Steve down in one of the seats and kneel before him. “And I you.”

If anyone asked, Steve would lie and say he was tearing up because of the bullets piercing his skin in half.  To protect and be protected. 

“Let’s go.”

~

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

Alright, so- Inspired by my awesome friend @undertheknightwing who created this AMAZING list of Dad!Dick Grayson headcanons (go check it out!!!) I decided to write down the mess I have in my own head into this giant ball of fluff, humor and angst.

So let me present you:

The Graysonfam List of Headcanons and Analysis

It's a looong ass list of my headcanons, mixed with an analysis of some scenes, looking into the motives and behavior of the characters. It's in more or less chronological order and divides into groups: season 1 (+2x01), the time jump, season 2, season 3 hopes/predictions and future. If you want me to turn any of these into fics or you feel like you could do something with it, just let me know. And now... ENJOY!

SEASON 1:

The first time Dick thinks of Gar and Rachel as his kids happens during the events of 1x08 and 1x10. It's pure instinct and it doesn't come to him until much later when he realizes that not only he thought of them this way but he actually meant it.

When he and Donna start translating Kory's notes and it becomes clear that Rachel might still be in trouble, he's immediately on his feet, asking Donna for the keys to her car and ordering her to take the books with her, so they could continue on the way. He's acting fast, ignoring Donna's questions because there's no time for explanation, my daughter is in danger. He almost says it out loud - almost. 

When Donna tells him the danger clearly comes from Kory, he wants to deny it. Kory adores these kids just as much as he does, she would never hurt them. But he puts his feet on the gas anyway, breaking every speed limit possible, because if one hair falls from Gar's and Rachel's heads, he will burn the world to find the person responsible, even if it's Kory (especially if it's Kory)

When they get there the first thing he sees is Gar being thrown in the air, and his mind short circuits to only one thing: Gar, my boy, my son. Is he okay? Thankfully Donna takes care of the rest so he's free to take care of the boy. He pulls him up, holding him tight by the shoulders and makes sure he's okay, but the words 'my son' are still circling his mind.

Speaking of Donna - when Dick starts telling her about Rachel the first time, she wants to cry from happiness. Over these past five years all she saw in Dick's eyes was pain and suffering. A storm of bottled up emotions, raging monsters of anger ready to get out. His body looked weighed down, as if he was Atlas holding the world on his shoulders. And now he's talking about this little girl who threw a brick at a cop car in Detroit and his eyes start to shine as if they were stars in the night sky. His smile grows when he brags about how smart and witty she is, how she's more intelligent than she gives herself credit for, how similar the two of them are. He talks about her bravery and her big heart and he sounds so damn proud Donna's heart is about to burst out of her chest. "I thought I couldn't do it." he tells her. "I fucked up so many times. But she had awakened something in me. I just can't describe it." She can but she doesn't say it - he needs to get to it on his own. (Over a year later, when the girl who turned her brother's world upside down tries to guide her back to the light through the darkness of afterlife, Donna finally says "I always knew he'd be a great father someday. You have no idea how much he loves you." "He told you that?" Rachel asks quietly, trying to hold back her tears. Donna looks at her and smiles. "He didn't have to. I saw it in his eyes.")

Then Dick gets to the part about finding Rachel's mother and suddenly something changes. He's trying to seem like he's happy for her, he says he's glad everything ended well and now Rachel can start a new life but Donna sees right through his facade. He thinks he can't be a part of this new life and it's killing him.

Which brings me to something very important I've noticed a long time ago - Angela's presence makes Dick hold himself back. That's why he decided to leave - Rachel had her mother back, a guardian who could take care of her from now on so he wasn't needed anymore. His job was done. But at this point he's already too attached to just leave like that and when he learns that danger isn't over he comes back immediately. But when he gets there he's met with a wall. Angela is very territorial (we all know why but Dick didn't know that) and Rachel is too overwhelmed by everything but let's be real - if Angela wasn't there Dick would be hovering over Rachel like crazy. But he doesn't. Why? Because he thinks it's not his place to do so. It's easier to go after Kory than to just be standing there awkwardly, wanting to help and comfort but not being able to.

He remembers everything Trigon put him through - every fucking detail. There is some stuff from the vision he wants to laugh at - Him and Dawn? Married? Maybe once upon a time he entertained that thought but he abandoned it long ago. There are things he's actually grateful for - seeing Gar and Rachel as they could be in the future, grown up, in college, happy. That's the one thing he doesn't want to forget. And Johnny - he doesn't want to forget Johnny either. 

His mind was sort of awake, in two places at once, even though he didn't have any control over his body. He remembers chasing the kids around the house, Gar screaming "Real life horror movie!" as he and Rachel tried to run away from him. He remembers Rachel pleading with him when the others were beating the poor boy. He wanted to respond, wanted to let her know he can hear her but he couldn't do anything. He watched helplessly as his own hand pulled Gar up and finished what others started. He screamed and shouted but it was in vain. And then he cried and howled like a wolf watching as Trigon ripped Rachel's heart from her chest and crushed it in his hand, then placed the red gemstone in her forehead. He remembers her dark eyes and evil smirk. He remembers thinking it was over, feeling heartbroken and defeated. He gave up, let the darkness swallow him whole. He didn't want to see more, it was easier locking himself up in this vision because he knew Bruce laying dead in rubble wasn't real. And then she came to him. Back straight and head held high, piercing blue eyes locked on him. He remembers his tone when he spoke to her, taunting and dangerous but it didn't scare her. "We're supposed to save each other" she told him and he wanted to cry but Trigon had him wrap his fingers around her throat and choke her - another thing he would never do. He would never lay a damn finger on her and Trigon was well aware of that. But Rachel knew that too. And she wasn't scared. 

He remembers the circus she brought him into. Empty stage, broken chairs scattered everywhere. He never wanted to come back here. And even though his body stood there motionless he was trashing inside, wanting to get out of here but more importantly wanting to get her out of here. Seeing Rachel on that platform, ready to jump, it was too much. He couldn't lose her, like he lost his parents. He didn't catch them but he sure as hell was going to catch her. So when she fell - he snapped. Got the control back, his muscles acted on memory and he jumped. He flew like he used to and wrapped his fingers around her wrists, holding her tight. He caught her. He would always catch her.

When they wake up all he wants to do is hold her. Relief almost sends him to his knees. But then Gar walks in, all bloody and bruised and all that relief turns into freezing agony and guilt. I did this, he thinks. It's my fault. But there is no time for apologies or explanation, Trigon is still there. Letting Rachel go deal with him on her own is hard but Dick knows she could do it - and she did. Seeing her walking out of that fog is one of the most beautiful views he saw in his life. And when he finally takes her into his arms he doesn't let go until Kory basically rips her out of his embrace.

He wants Kory to go with them. Kids need her. His idea of giving Gar and Rachel a new life included her. Included both of them, taking care of the kids together. Things between them are tangled and complicated but one thing that is neither of those things is their attachment to these two. But Kory just got her memories back, she has her own issues to deal with, she needs time and space - and he respects that, so do Gar and Rachel. But Dick would be lying if he said he didn't notice their disappointment.

The first day of their roadtrip across the country is quiet - mostly because they are all so goddamn tired. Dick pulls up to a motel before dark, deciding that the more sleep they get the better. They pick two rooms next to each other, Jason and Gar in one, he and Rachel in the other. Rachel immediately vanishes in the bathroom, so Dick has time to sit down and think (as if he wasn't doing it the entire day while driving). An idea is shaping in his head, memories of a beloved city in sunny California come to the surface of his mind and he knows this is where he wants to take the kids. But he has to make a stop at Gotham first, he needs to talk to Bruce and most importantly return Jason home. Rachel walks out of the bathroom in fresh clothes Donna left for her and crawls into bed without a word. He takes his time to tuck her in, then sits down on the edge of her bed. She's beyond exhausted, but she's safe, she's with him, everything will be alright. He will never let anyone take her away from him again. And when he's watching her fall asleep, holding her hand in his, three words come to his mind, words he's not ready to say aloud yet but he knows them to be true. I love you.

THE TIME JUMP:

Physical affection is something I think the show is pretty good at showing but I still crave to see more. It's clear that Dick struggles to be affectionate, whether that be through words or touch. And he doesn't even realize he's actually very good at it. Why? Because whenever he does it, he's acting on instinct. The biggest proof? All his hugs with Rachel in s1. Boy had no idea what to do, it was written on his face, but his arms went up nonetheless. He didn't freeze, he didn't push her away, but reacted accordingly. The hugs in 1x02 and 1x04 are the only ones he initiated on his own, but he still wasn't sure if he's doing it right. As the show went on he slowly eased into it, but was still taken by surprise when it happened (1x08, the first hug in 2x01). By the end of 2x01 he seems to be pretty comfortable with it but I think it's during the time jump when he really starts to understand the importance and power of physical affection and how these kids really need it. The pat he gave Gar on the shoulder in 2x03 or their hug in 2x09 felt really natural, same as the goodbye hug with Rachel in 2x13. All three of them got comfortable with each other during those first three months in SF. Which leads me to…

Cuddle sessions. Yes, this is definitely a thing at Titans Tower (*cough*Grayson*cough*household*cough). It starts that first night when Dick, Rachel, Gar and Jason gather on the couch to watch a movie. Rachel lays down and rests her head on Dick's thigh while Gar settles comfortably on his other side. Dick has no idea when it happened but he freezes for a moment when he realizes his hand is on Rachel's head, fingers carding through her hair. The girl seems to be asleep already but stirs when he stops and asks him to continue, so he does. Soon after that Gar's head lands on his shoulder as the boy starts nodding off. The sudden contact wakes him up and he pulls away awkwardly, apologizing but Dick tells him it's okay so Gar leans back against him. The feeling of having the two of them so close brings a sense of calm to Dick and soon he falls asleep as well. He wakes up in the morning with the two teenagers basically laying on top of him and Jason standing over them with a smirk and a phone in his hand.

After that it sort of becomes a thing and not just during movies. Whenever Dick sits down on the couch, whether to work or to simply relax, Gar or Rachel (or both) would find him and snuggle to him, at first hesitantly, but with more confidence as the time passes and they get comfortable with it. After three months of living together all Dick has to do is pat the spot next to him for them to jump on the couch and cuddle up, tho Rachel is the one who does it most often and with no hesitation.

Dick very quickly starts understanding how important it is for them so he starts returning the favor. A good job pat on the shoulder during training, a kiss dropped on the top of the head during breakfast, a comforting shoulder rub when they aren't feeling well, emotionally or physically. Gar loves when Dick ruffles his hair, he even leans into it sometimes, while Rachel's favorite things are forehead kisses and tucking her hair behind her ear (but neither of them would ever say that out loud)

Words are as important as gestures, which brings us to affectionate pet names. It feels normal and almost ordinary when it comes from a woman - Rachel has been called 'honey' by Melisa and 'sweetheart' by Dawn but she wasn't phased by it. But when Dick calls her 'honey' for the first time, she nearly drops her coffee mug. It comes out so naturally and he doesn't even realize he said it, but it takes her breath away and she needs a moment to collect herself. With Gar it's usually 'Bud', 'Buddy', or 'Tiger Boy' spoken affectionately and he's always beaming with happiness when he hears Dick saying that.

One night, shortly after Trigon, Rachel slips into his bedroom in the middle of the night, saying she can't sleep. The memories are too vivid, too real. Her lips are trembling and she looks like she's about to fall apart and that's all it takes for Dick to sit up, open his arms for her and with full awareness and conviction say "come here, baby girl". She falls asleep snuggled to his bare chest and Dick feels his throat getting dangerously tight. He'd seen many times, mostly on TV, images of parents holding their babies to their bare skin - something about creating a bond through skin-to-skin contact. He was never able to wrap his head around this concept, but now, as he feels Rachel's cheek pressed to his heart, her hand closed in his resting on his stomach, the understanding hits him like a speeding train, pushing a tear or two out of his eyes. It's something indescribable, feels profound and almost sacred. The love he feels in this moment is overwhelming.

Gar has nightmares too, he usually wakes up screaming. It scares Dick at first, how he reacts, because the boy pulls away, wide eyed and shaking, and doesn't want to be touched. Guilt overwhelms Dick because he's sure it's because of him, because of what he did to Gar while being under Trigon's control. He tries to apologize and Gar accepts it but explains to him that his nightmares are not Dick's fault and they are not even about that (Dick can feel the boy is lying for both of their sakes but lets him anyway). It takes a few tries and lots of pleading and building trust but one night Gar finally falls into Dick's arms, sobbing into his shoulder. He pulls the boy close, runs his fingers through his hair just like Gar likes it and whispers "it's okay, my little boy." over and over again until Gar's body goes limp in his hold and he can put him back to sleep. Neither of them mentions it in the morning, but Gar gives him a look full of gratitude, filling his heart with warmth.

One evening during their first week in SF they organise a 'bonding night' - Gar's idea. There's take out and board games and staying up all night, talking. At some point one of them suggests sharing any hidden talents (besides superpowers of course) and details no one knows about them. Jason admits to being a theatre nerd ("it's thespian you idiots!") and proves it by flawlessly rapping verses from Hamilton. Gar thanks to travelling with his parents can fluently speak few African languages, he also shares that during his time at the Doom Manor Rita taught him the basics of playing piano. When it's Dick's turn he gets up from the couch and vanishes for a few minutes, but eventually comes back with a guitar, saying he had learned to play during his circus days, but hadn't done it in a while so he might be a little rusty. He plays a few cords, trying to spark his memory and when the notes finally come to him, a beautiful melody fills the room (I always imagine it's Viva la Vida by Coldplay). And suddenly this melody is joined by an angelic voice - Rachel closes her eyes and starts singing quietly, recognizing the song. She only opens her eyes when she's finished and finds the three of them looking at her in absolute awe, Dick's eyes seem to be a bit watery. She gets a bit embarrassed and says it's nothing but they start cheering and clapping anyway. Gar asks her where did she learn to sing like that and she admits she used to sing in a church choir when she was little, but had to quit after her powers started showing. The night ends with a little jam session and lots of laughing.

Gar and Rachel grew up on golden era of Disney Channel shows (Jason knows them too but he'd rather be tortured than ever admit that) and once the news is out Dick is forced to sit through the entire run of Wizards of Waverly Place. But watching Rachel flawlessly impersonate the main character Alex, knowing every line word for word makes him grin like a madman and laugh so hard his stomach hurts and tears roll down his cheeks. He pulls her to him and she falls on him in a fit of uncontrollable giggles while Gar and Jason give her a standing ovation.

SEASON 2:

While hanging out together is important, Dick also makes sure he gets to spend some time with each of them separately. With Jason it's mostly through training - the boy isn't very keen on spending one-on-one quality time outside of the gym, but prides himself to be Dick's right hand man during lessons, having more experience over the other two. With Gar it's video games most of the time - Dick learned to play specifically for him and actually started paying attention to gaming lore. But it's not just that - Gar has a talent to anything tied to technology so they spend a lot of time together in the tech room where the boy learns to operate the Tower system. It brings both of them a lot of joy. Rachel, as the only girl in their little family, often needs some time away from the boys, so Dick takes her on walks in the mornings or a drive around the city, shows her his favorite coffee shop which soon becomes their favorite spot. They talk about everything and nothing, because conversations were the thing that brought them so close in the first place, and it just feels good. 

Rachel also loves spending time with him in the tech room - but not like Gar, she's not learning to run it (although she picked up a thing or two) but she's simply there to keep Dick company while he works (can he even call that work if he hasn't been officially working as a detective for quite a while now? Not to mention his resignation has been sent to Detroit the day they arrived in SF). She brings him coffee or snacks, stands behind his chair with her arms around his neck, observing whatever he's doing (and asking lots of questions) or simply sits in the other swiveling chair, drawing in her sketchbook or turning around so many times Dick starts to worry she's gonna get dizzy. He asks her one time if she's not bored sitting here with him but she just shrugs and says she'd rather be here than anywhere else and his heart grows tenfold as he smiles at her

So remember how Rachel lost control and attacked Jason in 2x03? And how Jason shouted "Stay away from me you fucking freak!" right in her face? And how Dick walks in like 3 seconds later asking if everything's okay and the tension is HIGH??? Well, he might have not seen what happened, but he definitely HEARD the full thing, he was within the hearing range. The fact that he didn't attack Jason immediately is really impressive, if this was s1!Dick - Jason would be on the floor right now, probably with a swollen eye and few broken bones. But here Dick is trying to play it smart and investigate. If it wasn't for dr Light he would probably get to the bottom of this and had a conversation with both Jason and Rachel. I'm thinking of writing a one-shot AU where he actually does it (mostly thanks to Gar who is a terrible liar when caught of guard)

When the last cab drives away and the Tower becomes empty, save for him, Gar and that boy in the infirmary, Dick does not leave to meet with Adeline immediately - he goes to Rachel's room and starts scrubbing it clean from all the crosses painted all over the place. His eyes are burning, the bile in his throat is the size of a tennis ball but he doesn't allow himself to cry. At some point Gar joins him and wordlessly starts helping him. It takes them a little over an hour and when it's done they both drop down on her bed, sitting shoulder to shoulder. "She'll be back." Gar tells him. "I'm not so sure." Dick replies, not looking at the boy. Gar puts a hand on his shoulder. "She will. You just wanted to protect us. Deep down she knows that, she's just angry." Dick knows Gar's reasoning is valid, but looking at his own reflection in the broken mirror he can't help but think that in the long run Rachel will be better off without him. They will all be better off without him.

It's not until his first night in prison that Dick starts to regret his decision to cast himself away. He wakes up in the middle of the night with tears in his eyes, his mind still reeling from dreams of Gar and Rachel seven years in the future. They were adults, happy and independent - that's good, right? That's what he always wanted for them. But his tears start to fall when it comes to him, hitting him like a wrecking ball, that spending 7 years behind bars means he won't be able to see them grow up. Something like a panic attack comes next and he is barely able to pull himself out of it. He's suddenly overwhelmed by questions. My kids… will they be okay? Is Kory back at the Tower or is Gar still alone? What is he gonna do when that strange boy wakes up? Was there any food in the fridge when I left? I left Gar some money, but still… God, and Rachel! She has never been on a plane before, what if she gets scared and her powers start acting out? What if she gets night terrors again? Will Donna know what to do? His head is spinning, these thoughts are suffocating him. Only a breathing exercise Bruce had taught him years ago is able to help, but it takes longer than usual. Dick doesn't sleep for the rest of the night.

He's not sure how but when Dick sees a bird in a window of his cell, he knows it's no ordinary bird. It's a raven. It's her. He gets up on his feet despite his knees being weak and wobbly and he smiles, grins like an idiot as he calls out to her. Because it has to be her, right? But all hope leaves him when the creature flies up again with a croak and disappears from his sight, leaving him alone. Dick drops to his knees, feeling more exhausted than ever and curls on the floor, his body shaking from shivers. No one is coming. He brought it on himself. He is forgotten already. But then he hears quiet tapping and something nudges his hand. He opens one eye only to look right into a ruby red one. The bird is here, inside, right in front of his face. It flaps its wings and its feathers turns into dark smoke for a moment. "Rachel…" He breathes out, holding to his last shreds of consciousness. The raven lowers its head, snuggling it to his forehead and before Dick passes out again he hears three words said by this quiet, angelic voice he loves so much: Don't give up.

When they bring Donna back to the Tower and lay her down in the infirmary Dick feels empty and overflowed at the same time. He goes to strip off his new suit and change into something more comfortable but it's a struggle when his hands are shaking so much. He goes back to infirmary and passes by Dawn in the doorway, who walks out of the room with Donna's Wonder Girl belt in hand, not even lifting her eyes up at him. He closes the door and sits down, taking Donna's hand in his but he is able to sit there for only ten minutes before the feeling of her hand growing cold in his makes him want to run away. He makes his way back to his room but takes a step back when he notices two colorful heads in the training room. Gar and Rachel are sitting on one of the benches with their backs to him, talking quietly. Gar is hunched over and Rachel has her arm around him and her head on his shoulder. The sight makes Dick's throat tight. He walks up to them quietly and they only notice him when he's standing in front of them. They simultaneously lift their heads up, showing him their red, swollen from crying eyes and his heart can't take it anymore. He falls to his knees in front of them. "I'm here." he whispers as he takes their hands in his. "I'm right here." he whispers again and his voice breaks. Suddenly two sets of arms are wrapped around him when both Gar and Rachel throw themselves at him, sobbing into his shoulders. He holds them tight, kisses their heads and lets his own tears fall into their hair as he keeps promising them he is not leaving them ever again. 

SEASON 3 HOPES/PREDICTIONS:

First few weeks without Donna and Rachel are absolute torture. Grief is normal, he's been through it before, it's nothing new (maybe more painful and guilt-ridden than he ever experienced). But not having Rachel around and how it impacts him on day-to-day basis after spending every day with her for the past few months is something totally new and unexpected and Dick is pretty sure he's never felt like this before. He's overprotective to the point of being overbearing and Gar points that out to him numerous times. He keeps making her breakfast, forgetting she's not gonna show up in the kitchen when the clock strikes 9 am. He keeps looking into her room like he's expecting to find her there. He constantly checks his phone as if she were able to call from Themyscira, where there's no signal, let alone phones. "Is it what sending your kid out to college feels like?" Hank asks him one evening and Dick almost chokes on his beer. Gar laughs so hard he falls off his chair. 

Rachel does everything she can to not cry in front of Dick when they say goodbye to each other but the moment the plane is in the air, she breaks. It was one of the hardest decisions she ever had to make and seeing Dick so broken definitely didn't help. But she has to at least try to bring Donna back, she wouldn't be able to forgive herself otherwise. So she gets herself together and keeps telling herself to be brave. For Dick. For Donna. For her family.

Gar becomes the center of family's attention and he can't say he doesn't love it. That spot always belonged to Rachel after all, but he was never jealous, nor he resented her for that. She totally deserved it and she can take the spot back when she returns (but he's never gonna let her get away with not saying goodbye to him). He's the 'A-Student' now during training, Dick is putting some extra work to make sure he learns as much as he can. Kory helps him a lot with the trauma CADMUS gave him and works with him on the development of his powers. He tries turning into other animals and after a month of struggling he finally turns into a mouse. Kory walks with him sitting on his shoulder around the whole Tower like the proudest mama in the galaxy and Dick's beaming with pride for the entire week. 

After Dick's off-hand comment that Rachel is missing on so much Gar starts to record vlogs on his phone about what's happening at the Titans Tower so Rachel can watch it and catch up when she's back. The material he gets is pure gold and even when others beg him to delete it, he refuses saying this is too good to be destroyed. 

The day before Rachel's first attempt at resurrection she uses a freshly learned trick to come to Dick in his dream. They meet on the beach she's currently on, meditating. Seeing him for the first time in three months makes her want to cry but she promised herself to be strong so he wouldn't worry and she holds her tears at bay. She falls into his arms with the brightest smile and burrows her face in his chest. He's holding her tight, asking if everything is okay and she nods, not quite trusting her voice at the moment. "I can't keep you here for long, but I needed to see you." she tells him. She's not sharing any details about her plan, the less he knows the better, but he begs her to be careful and stop if it turns out to be too much for her. Dick pulls her to him one last time before she has to serve the connection and presses his lips to her forehead. "I love you." he whispers and she closes her eyes, hugging him tighter. "Come home soon." "I love you, too. And I will."

To find Donna's soul Rachel needs to go to The Underworld, which is a dark, scary place (well, for the most part). The search is difficult and the journey ahead of her is long. On her way she meets other people, souls who sometimes want to help her, sometimes otherwise. She sees Adamson and all the people who were after her, drowning in a river of fire, calling for help. One hand grabs her by the ankle and Rachel looks down right into the hollow eyes of her birth mother. She struggles to set herself free from Angela's hold but eventually the creepy hand lets go of her and Rachel runs away. Not all the meetings are painful though. She gets to see Melisa again - she tells her about Dick and Gar and Kory and everything that happened. "I found him, mom. I found the boy from the circus." she says and they both start to cry. Melisa tells her how proud she is and lets her continue her journey. But the most surprising meeting happens right before the end. Rachel knows their faces only from her dream and the blurry videos she found online. But the resemblance to Dick is undeniable - he has his mother's eyes, his father's hair. Mary Grayson takes her into her arms with tears in her eyes, saying how happy she is to finally meet her. They chat for a while, laugh and cry together like they've known each other their whole lives. "He's so lucky to have you." John tells her. "Tell him we're proud of him." Mary asks her when she is about to leave. "And come back to him in one piece." Rachel nods, holding back tears. "I will, I promise." 

When Rachel arrives at Wayne Manor it's already dark outside. A black car pulls in the driveway. Dick, Kory and Gar are waiting by the main entrance and when the car stops they approach it and Dick opens the door. Rachel is sleeping in the backseat with her head falling on her shoulder and the view is so beautiful and adorable that Dick stops for a moment to just look at her with a dreamy smile on his face. He lifts his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and leans in whispering "welcome back, sweetheart". She smiles without opening her eyes and instantly lifts her arms to wrap them around his neck. They both laugh as he pulls her out the car. She steps away from him for a moment to hug Gar and Kory but sticks herself back to his side immediately after. Gar takes her bag and the car drives away while the 4 of them head towards the door.

She failed (or at least she thinks she failed) and that first night back she cries her eyes out into Dick's chest, apologizing over and over again. "It's okay, honey." he tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Remember what I told you back at the airport? No matter how strong we are, we-" "We can't always change the world." she finishes for him and smiles through her tears. "I know. I've had those words in the back of my head every day." They lay in silence for the next few minutes, Dick's hand slowly stroking Rachel's hair. She hesitates a bit but then starts telling him about meeting his parents. He smiles at her through tears. "I'm so proud of you." he whispers. "You've grown so much. You're so strong. Going away was a good decision, it gave you skills and experience you wouldn't have gotten here. But now I'm just glad I have you back. I was worried sick." Rachel smiles into his chest. "I'm not going anywhere again."

As happy as Dick is to have her back, some part of him wishes Rachel stayed longer on Themyscira. Everything that's happening in Gotham is making him consider sending her and Gar away to some place safe and hidden, The Justice League has a lot of those. But his kids are Titans - they both remind him of that. "You didn't train us to hide." she tells him. "We can handle this." Gar adds. And Dick believes them. And he's so proud his heart can barely take it.

Donna's return comes as a shock to everyone - Hank brings her to the Wayne Manor one day, saying they bumped into each other at some restaurant in the city. "How-" Rachel asks with eyes opened wide in disbelief. Donna smiles at her. "I don't know. I got lost, but… I found my way back somehow." Dick slowly walks up to her, his eyes welling up with tears. "But the spell-" "It worked." Donna explains. "It just needed more time." After that he sweeps her into his arms and extends his hand to Rachel to pull her in as well. He holds them both as close as he can, kissing their heads and swears to himself to never lose either of them again.

FUTURE:

Thoughts about adoption appear in Dick's mind more or less when he brings Gar and Rachel to San Francisco, but they are more of an abstract dream than something that could be real. But as the time goes on those thoughts become more and more solidified and are too big to be ignored. He finally decides to talk to someone about it and that someone is Dawn, mostly because they've had this kind of conversation before. "It's a big responsibility - taking her in. But taking care of a kid is complicated, you know that better than anyone." These words stay with him every day, that's why he goes to her. He struggles to say what he wants to say but she understands and hugs him with tears in her eyes saying she knew he'd do it sooner or later and that she couldn't be happier for him. She helps him with paperwork and prepares him for meetings. He breaks the news to the kids the moment everything is ready. They're suspicious of the 'gifts' he hands them since it's neither's birthday today and there's no holiday. They share a curious glance as they rip off the shiny gift paper to reveal two folders of documents (while Dick almost dies from anticipation and nerves). Gar is the first one to react - his lips slowly stretch into the biggest grin imaginable. "For real? Are you serious? This is real stuff?" his voice grows louder and more excited with each following question and Dick can't help but laugh. Rachel stays quiet though. She stares at the papers in her hands with her brows furrowed. Seconds pass and she's not moving. It's like she's not even breathing. "Rachel?" Kory asks quietly, taking a step her way. And then the floodgates open. Rachel's face twists into a grimace as she starts sobbing uncontrollably. She covers her mouth with her hand to muffle it but there's no use. Dick walks up to her, terrified he did something wrong but then she throws herself into his arms, repeating "thank you" and "I love you" over and over again. Dick pulls Gar to him as well and hugs them both. "You're my kids." He whispers to them. "I love you more than anything in the world. And nothing will ever change that." By the time of Rachel's 16th birthday she and Gar are officially Graysons.

Dick and Kory get married the following year. It's a glamorous but small ceremony with reception held at the Wayne Manor. For the months leading to the big day the kids (with the help of the entire team and few other people) prepare something very special - and the idea comes from Uncle Clay. Turns out Clay, as the closest friend of Dick's parents, owns a small storage unit where he keeps some of the stuff from the circus, including personal things - like a box of journals of Mary Grayson, who had been writing them since she was a child. Clay tells Gar and Rachel a story about how Mary used to write poetry which then she turned into songs and sometimes performed them at the circus. He even still has some of her stage outfits. The three of them get the idea that Gar and Rachel should look through tapes with her performances and pick one song to sing together at the wedding - and that's what they do. They find a beautiful ballad where Clay accompanied Mary on the piano (he teaches Gar how to play it) and in secret the team prepares the whole show. The performance happens during the Bride and Groom's first dance. Gar enters the stage in a tuxedo, says a few words and starts playing. Dick and Kory start dancing slowly but stop for a moment when he starts singing the first verse. They have no idea what's coming next. Rachel, in Mary's dress stands in the crowd surrounding the couple. Hank comes to stand behind her and secretly puts a microphone in her hand. She comes in for the second verse of the song and that's when Dick and Kory stop dancing completely, too surprised to move. They watch in absolute awe as Rachel joins her brother on stage and they finish the song together. When Dick realizes he actually remembers this song from his childhood and that the dress Rachel is wearing belonged to his mother he breaks down in tears. After the song is over the kids join their parents on the dancefloor for a bone-crushing group hug (and to help you imagine this even better this is the song I imagine them singing)

The day Rachel and Gar get their college acceptance letters is one of the most stressful days in their lives. They're in the Tower's kitchen, both holding the envelopes in their hands, afraid to open them. "What are you guys waiting for? Open it!" Kory encourages them. They agree to do it on three. Dick holds his breath, gripping tight his wife's hand. The kids read the letters, fully focused. There's a stretching moment of silence, and then… "I got in!" "Me too!" A lot of screaming and laughing and jumping around happens afterwards, but even in the chaos of all of that Dick can feel a burning knot tightening in his stomach.

And I thought sending Rachel to Themyscira was hard, Dick thinks when they drop Gar and Rachel off at college on their first day. Thankfully it's the same college, but it's in Chicago and it's still half a country away from home. He's not sure how many times he checked already if they have everything they need, if they haven't forgotten to pack something, if they are absolutely sure they know their schedule and so on. Kory, standing next to him with her hands on her growing belly, laughs at him fussing over them. Gar and Rachel just smile and nod, seeing how stressed he is. Yes, Dad, we're sure we have everything. Yes, we checked. Of course we'll call. Yes, Dad. Okay, Dad - and so on. At some point they all start laughing at the ridiculousness of it all but suddenly Dick is getting choked up. His two little birds are leaving the nest and he should be handling it better than he does. Seeing him clearlyon the edge of falling apart Gar and Rachel give him a tight hug. "I'm sorry." he says. "I'm just trying to let you go a little. Let you grow up." "It's that hard?" Rachel asks him and he looks at her - tall, beautiful, confident, brave and smart. Perfect. But he also still sees that little kid he met in Detroit. "It can't be that hard." Gar adds and for a moment when Dick looks at him he thinks he's seeing double - the young, handsome and courageous man who is standing in front of him now and that overexcited cheerful kid who joined them on their little road trip. "It's impossible." Dick tells them, pulling them back into another hug. "It's fucking impossible." Soon they have to go or they will be late for their classes and Dick and Kory are left alone on the campus. "They'll be okay." his wife tells him. He has to swallow down a bile in his throat and push back some tears before answering. "I know."

Oh and remember Dick's old silver Porsche? The one he traded for a minivan? Yeah, he got it back (don't ask him how). Rachel owns it now. Graduation present. And don't worry about Gar, he's got his car too. Grandpa Bruce got him his dream ride.

Woah... This turned out WAAAAAAAAAY longer than I thought it would be. If you made it this far (and even if you didn't) I hope you enjoyed.