#Dr Leslie Thompkins

[bet-on-me-13]

Dr Leslie Thompkins has some interesting references

So! The Batfam in in Dr Thompkins' Clinic for the usual Vigilante Related Injuries, and the Good Dr seems to be distracted.

One of them asks why she is so nervous and she reveals that her old teacher is coming over to visit, and she is worried that the state of her Clinic and the fact that she never managed to find a good job in a Hospital despite his teachings will upset him.

She is worried that she will disappoint him, because he has done so much for her in the past. He is the entire reason she ever managed to become a certified Doctor in the first place.

The others are curious as to what kind of person would illicit this level of concern from the Stric Doctor they knew?

There is a Knock on the Door, and she goes to Answer it.

In steps an 8 Ft Fall Glowing Yeti with an Arm made of Ice.

Frostbite smiles warmly at his former student, "Leslie! It's been too long!"

[dc-tournaments]

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny is Dr. Leslie Thompkins, Batman's doctor, new assistant. Danny ran away (you know why), bumped into her, got medical help and Danny helped around the clinic (?) in return and now is a live in assistant. Dr.Thompkins got an emergency call from Alfred and decided to bring her little assistant to help her make life easier.

(Danny would make a great assistant. Make your muscles invisible to see bones or organs, intangibly pluck out bullets or sharpnel without the hassle, experience sewing, ice cast (if he could control the temperature), all good things without the need to take off/ cut off your reinforced sturdy clothes)

Oh! Thats brilliant! I can see Danny downplaying his powers so he doesn't seem like the threat/powerhouse he really is. Dr. Thompkins would definitely appreciate the help!

Danny initially refused payment for his work. After all she was feeding and housing him she he felt he owed her, she had none of it however and told him he either takes the money or stops helping out all together.

He took the money and she made him go out and do things during daylight hours like some kind of sane person.

Next thing Danny knows he's being saved by the daytime vigilante, Signal and they're getting along like a house on fire. Its obvious Signal knows something is up with him but seems to let it go.

I like to think Danny and Signal become friends after this :)

[joaniejustwokeup]

[preyofolympus]

Worried About Bernard (You know that I won't let you fall) chapter 3 by etpereatmundus

“The person you have dialed can’t take your call now. At the tone, please record your message. When you have finished recording, simply hang up...” 

It doesn’t take a conspiracy theorist to conclude that a shitty magic cult goes about giving people shitty magic powers, or even more shitty hallucinations. 

Though fuck it, Bernard Dowd thought, with my luckthe two events could just be completely unrelated and I’m just built like that. Which would objectively suck. A lot. Either way, the likelihood of something shit happening and it not being linked to the cult I left almost exactly a month ago wasn’t exactly low, objectively speaking. Oh, you left a cult run on mania and now you’re seeing monsters? Gee Willikers, causation over correlation would be the village idiot’s guess.

He put the phone down after the fifth time he rang Asher Kensington’s phone, and it went to the same monotone voice. So much for trying to call the only ex-cult member he had the phone number of.

The cult was where Bernard had formed some of his strongest relationships since… since the day at the school when… since his last day at school with Tim and… her. Her. He shook his head of the memories. At the cult, they’d been joined in their goals- their very lives, running from the parts of themselves and others that they couldn’t face. Despite the fear, the pain and the madness of it all, they did draw a kind of strength from each other Bernard had never felt before. So he hoped that he could reach out, call his old contacts for help, for that strength they once shared even if he did end up being the only one with his recent experiences. But… he couldn’t be, right?

 The cult opened up their vulnerabilities, but Bernard and his fellow members were vulnerable together, and knew each other's truest selves as they endured the trials together. 

Asher piercing him, Yekaterina tattooing Bernard’s skin when she hadn’t known him the day before, parting skin and tracing fingers through streams of blood- they all spurred each other on, kept each other alive even as they tore each other apart. Dissected each other. 

Asher was the first person to dissect Bernard. On Bernard’s first day in the cult, he’d wandered the halls of the catacombs lost, unsure amongst the bustling crowds- until Asher grabbed his arm and pulled him to the wall. With a smile he took a knife and ran it down the back of each of his fingers. Gently held Bernard’s arm in place, allowing him to brace himself against the Asher’s thin frame. At first, Bernard tried his best to stay still. To not show the pain. However, he quickly learned that wasn’t the point- pain cults want to see the pain, they don’t want you to overcome it, but commit to it, experience it fully. 

The rituals weren’t all physical, and all the physical things ended up being piercings and tattoos, or exerting the self through things like running until you collapse. Isolation; navigating the dark caverns after a frenzied party; the fear that made you jolt so hard at the slightest sound you’d pull a muscle; the hunger that left you curled up clutching your stomach to alleviate the rolling nausea that came stronger and stronger each time. You had to really stretch it, find new ways of embracing pain. The memories of why they ventured further in pursuit of pain eluded Bernard- some reasoned it was for higher elevation (whatever that meant), others to show determination, devotion. Maybe, above it all, it was a show- they wanted to all be noticed by the higher powers, to be told they were good, that their suffering meant something. ‘Look at me, I’m going to rise above you all by cutting myself down.’

Somehow, the pain was meant to help them find themselves. Find salvation.

Suffering is holy. 

Asher believed that. He’d been there much longer than Bernard, and had stuck by his side, hoping to help him adjust to the new underground world he’d turned to to escape himself and his family. It had been months, and towards the end, Asher had begun to help other new recruits, as had… 

Then Bernard saw Tim.

He almost felt like he’d betrayed Asher more than the cult. Bernard had walked away from the life Asher had spent almost half a year acclimating him to, snuck out without a word, like there was nothing easier than leaving the family he’d found in the catacombs of Gotham. 

But Robin- Tim- had saved him, saved them all. 

The Chaos Cult was no more, and they were all free.

Bernard never reached out to the others, after, never spoke to those he’d once called family. He remembered the feeling- the way they all belonged. The intentions of the Cult were never made clear to the followers, but as the confusion lifted over Bernard’s first few months, he felt lighter than ever. They’d all felt the same way, felt the relief as they began to settle into the life they all came to share. Some had for years. How could he look them in the eyes after taking all that away? Especially with what they were all running from?

He called Asher. He needed the reassurance, the short, thin frame to lean on as he adjusted to his new life. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t do it alone. He couldn’t be the only one. So, he concluded that if they’d all felt the same way before the cult, felt the same way on their journeys as members, then surely there’d be someone out there who felt the same as they left. Wondering if they were going mad, or if they were something other than human after their experience.

Finally, he gave in, and opened his phone to try the next ex-member. Esen.

Esen Polat had been a Turkish influencer before the cult. They’d run away because, like Bernard, their family made them scared of who they really were. They were the only other one Bernard had seen change like him after the cult- changing the he/ him in their bio to they/them- so he figured if he couldn’t rely on a person he looked up to, why not rely on someone he saw himself in?

So there he sat, Instagram open on his phone, eyes flicking over the keyboard as he hoped some letter or other would prompt him to think of the right way to open his message.

He typed. 

Backspaced.

Typed.

Backspaced, then re-typed, then backspaced.

Turned off his phone.

What was to say they’d even answer? Maybe they also resented him for taking away the cult. Maybe they’d never see the DM because he wasn’t a friend. Maybe they just didn’t care about him. 

Then Bernard thought back to the Things; the fear as a Thing turned the corner before a person; trying to figure out whether he should tell someone or if it would get back to the wrong people; the itch to go back to the catacombs, to do what he didn’t know.

He sighed, and typed.

‘Hi Esen, it’s Bernard. I know we haven’t talked since we last saw each other, but I think something’s wrong. I need to know if I’m the only one.’

<<<<<>>>>>

Twenty minutes later, his phone buzzed.

From Esen Polat-

‘Thank fuck, I was wanting to find someone else too. Can we meet at my place? I’m kind of scared to leave the house with my… new condition.’

Bernard held his breath.

From Bernard-

‘Does today work?’ 

Three dots popped up.

From Esen Polat-

‘How quick can you get to mine? I can’t wait a second longer than I have to.’

<<<<<>>>>>

The apartment Bernard was directed to rose high above the trees of Gotham park, a red brick wall crumbling with old vines from Poison Ivy’s last attack. Each balcony had its own personality, adorned with flags, plants and Knick knacks that all came together into a single tapestry of colour that wrestled out a small feeling of hope that warmed Bernard’s chest. It was a pretty typical Gotham scene- the dandelions growing in the cracks. Pretty to those that noticed. Refusing to be stamped down.

He pressed the buzzer for flat five, and the door opened with a crack of the hinges.

Esen Polat entered the door in a lilac silk dressing gown, an almost empty, incredibly large wine glass clutched in their grip. Their eyes scanned Bernard up and down, bloodshot. A smile broke across their face.

“God it’s been so long since I’ve seen a familiar figure. Come in, come in! Just be careful where you stand.”

Following his host’s frantic gesturing, as the goosebumps rose on his arms, Bernard stepped inside. 

No Things inhabited the space. He tried to convince himself that was a good sign, even though he was too early into the whole seeing Things issue to know that for certain.

“So, there is no point in me pretending I don’t know why you’re here. Bernard, have you been blessed too? Do you… have you got the snakes too?” Esen’s voice dropped to a whisper on the last line, even though they were the only two in the room.

“The… snakes? I mean, cursed sounds more fitting than blessed if you ask me, and I haven’t seen any snakes since I left-“

“Not seen them, dear- spit them out.”

Bernard blanched. “You- you spit snakes? Well shit, I see weird monster Things attached to people, and I think I can touch them and affect the people they’re attached to. I mean… at least we’re both able to be more open minded to each others’, um, situations? When did you start spitting up reptiles?”

“It happened a week after the cult was disbanded. What about you? Your… monster Things? When did they start?”

“Three weeks after leaving,” Bernard said. “It’s been almost two weeks now, and until literally just now, I couldn’t tell if I was going mad or if it was some Metahuman shit manifesting. I guess at least I know I’m not mad, but being a Meta in Gotham isn’t great. Do you… have any snakes you kept?”

Emphatically, Esen nodded. “Five from this week. I drop them off at various shelters just before they open. I was almost drowning in them until I realised I could get rid of them in a more discreet manner. Follow me, just down this hall. The first few were so small, I thought I had some dreadful case of worms, but quickly they grew in size, now I’m coughing up snakes almost as long as I am tall. Truly terrible business.” They shook their head, ushering Bernard inside a room at the end of the hall.

A small cage, sat in one corner,  covered haphazardly in chicken wire and emitting an ominous low hiss from within. Shadows obscured whatever was inside, but a dark shadow rose and fell, silhouetted against the white walls. 

Esen crouched down, opening the hatch, and Bernard panicked.

“Don’t just let them out! What if they bite?”

Esen laughed. “They do what I will them to. I believe my power lies as much in their control as it does in their creation. Quite like a god of snakes.”

A shiver worked its way up Bernard’s spine. “Do you really think it’s like that? Like you’re some god?”

“I think therefore I am, right? I quite believe the cult left us with some left over gifts, as a thank you for our servitude. Why, you almost gave your life for the cult. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I’d been on that table…” they looked away wistfully, an expression that invoked both revulsion and rage in Bernard.

“What would have happened is you’d have been torn to fucking bits, tortured, and ended up nothing more than a dead body,” Bernard hissed. “Don’t be so naïve.”

“But we all wanted that, didn’t we? The pain, the conclusion?” Esen asked, tilting their head.

“I wanted to run away because I realized I was gay, for fucks sake. That’s all it really was, and they took advantage of that. They took advantage of all of us, and tortured us for months because we were all stupid.” Bernard sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, at the end of the day, I don’t care if we think differently of the cult. Can we at least both agree that being Metas in Gotham is a bad idea?”

“Of course it is, no one stays a Meta in Gotham for long before the Bat comes. I may call myself a god, but the Bat and his clan are a whole different breed of entity. Something else entirely. I don’t want to go against that.”

“At least we agree on that, sort of.” 

Tim was certainly something else entirely.

“I don’t want to see the Things anymore, and I want to find out where exactly these powers come from. So, there are two things we need to agree on; we need to keep this as much of a secret as we can, and we need to see if there’s a way we can get rid of the powers. Even if you don’t want to lose your powers, I do, and you might need to just in case.”

Esen nodded, placing their hand inside the cage. A Copperhead slithered out, winding around their arm, tongue flicking out as it surveyed the room. Yellow eyes trained themselves on Bernard. He shuffled away, back against the wall. 

“Of course,” Esen agreed. “But if I get even a slight feeling that you’re taking this away from me, I’ll stop you.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less,” Bernard sighed. “Just don’t get too paranoid.”

Esen waved a hand. “You can never be too paranoid, Bernard dear.”

“Once again, agree to disagree.” 

A high pitched noise rose up outside the door, and Bernard jumped, crouching low with his hands ready to strike. He really needed to remember the actual defensive positions he’d been taught in Krav Maga classes. 

Behind him, Esen laughed. “That’s just Kadri, my lovely little boy. He’s just a bit timid around my snakes.”

Bernard craned his neck around the corner, locking eyes with a dog that could hardly be considered ��little’. A lanky, golden furred creature with a long nose and twig thin legs peered up at the newcomer, head cocked to the side. It’s tail tucked between its legs, as it danced back and forth on the fresh hold of the room, clearly nervous as Bernard felt around the snakes.

“He’s a Borzoi, truly a lovely creature,” Esen crooned, stoking a finger under the snake’s chin. “Now, as much as I love small talk and company, I have a feeling you would like to be sorted and far away from my snakes as soon as possible. Do you have any proposals for how we go about figuring out the root of our new powers? Whilst I am more than happy to return to the catacombs, I’m sure you are less than eager.”

Bernard huffed. “You can say that again. Look, I haven’t kept in contact with anyone since I left, Asher never answers my calls, and I only found you out through social media. If we’re going to find the origin, we need to find out if all of us have powers too, or if it’s a select few. If it’s the latter, it might even help us figure out more about the way we got our powers.”

“I have a few contacts. Most fled Gotham though, going back to their hometowns, going into hiding, some seemingly disappearing off the map. Not to mention the deaths.”

A breath hitched in Bernard’s throat. “How many?”

“Five that I know of. Likely more. I know some were accidents, in a sense, just people trying to carry out the rituals and going too far. Others were not so accidental. Didn’t you see Geoff on the news, getting pulled out of Gotham harbor? Dreadful news. If we were still together, we could make sure we all were ok.”

“You mean we could supervise each other while we tore ourselves apart? Fucking hell, Esen.” Bernard shook his head, expression creasing into a scowl. “Whatever. Call everyone you can, arrange to meet them on the weekend. There’s an old dive bar nearby that is loud enough for us all to have a conversation without being heard. Just dress discreetly, ok? No fancy gowns or designer brands, just put in a hoodie and jeans or something.”

“You do push me, but fine. I have no interest in being noticed in Crime Alley.”

Bernard thanked Esen for agreeing to help, deciding to ignore their somewhat classist sounding remark, and said his goodbyes.

 Kadri the Borzoi nudged his nose into Bernard’s hand, and he petted him as he passed, almost certain the dog was the nicest part of the visit. He resolved to bring treats if he ever came back.

<<<<<>>>>>

Dusk had begun to settle on Gotham, the neon lights of Robinson Square illuminating the lush plant life of Robinson Park.

Bernard sat on some old bench dedicated to some old dead guy, watching as people passed. 

Now he knew he wasn’t going mad, he’d decided that he might as well get used to his powers while he had them- and that meant practice. 

The Things weren’t always noticeable, sometimes because of their size, sometimes because of their appearance- but they were almost always there. Esen had actually been the first person Bernard had seen since he first saw the Things to not have one. Bernard had been looking for his own Thing, some little monster attached to himself, but hadn’t had any luck. Maybe their lack of Things had something to do with the cult- whatever them not having their own Things meant, a creeping feeling that that wasn’t a good thing had begun to grow on Bernard’s consciousness.

An old woman passed, her Thing bounding on ahead, its odd shape vaguely resembling a small dog- at least, a small dog with three necks and a dozen legs. She smiled as she looked at the passing flowers, and Bernard turned his attention to the next passerby.

A young couple walked in the opposite direction, holding hands and leaning on each other. Their things took on bird-like forms, one chasing the other in a never ending circle. The young man pulled out his phone, and as the woman angled her head to look, he moved it out of her line of sight.

The night sky above revealed no stars, and the smog caught the lights from Robinson square, turning the edges of the park into a red and purple setting that resembled some lost good dream. Bernard allowed himself to appreciate it for a minute before deciding to set off, not trusting anything beautiful in Gotham. 

He left the park fifteen minutes later. The north-east end of the city was only ten minutes away from his apartment, and in the southern distance, the Bat-signal lit up the sky, visible from the clutches of the entire city

The East End wasn’t a far cry from The Bowery- slightly better kept, but still clearly abandoned by the council, covered in old graffiti tags, with trash cans overflowing and glass bottles turning the ground into a hazard to simply exist around. He’d already pulled glass from his shoes on three separate occasions since moving down. 

It was on one of these streets that he heard a scream. 

The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and Bernard spun around in the direction it came from, seemingly out of some alley to his left. It was certainly a man’s scream, and Bernard froze as he realized something.

The scream was one he’d heard many times before: one of pain.

Trying to shake the feeling of claustrophobia that rose whenever he thought of his time in the cult, Bernard sprang forward, sprinting in the direction of the scream before he’d even thought about what he was doing. 

The further down he ventured, the darker it became as the lights from the Main Street slinked out of view.

He came to a stop, Blood rushing in his veins. The alley came to a dead end. 

Had he missed the person who screamed? 

Alarms sounded in his mind, to get the fuck out as soon as possible. Instantly, his mind went to it either being a trap or something much bigger than what he could handle. What was he even thinking? What idiot ran towards danger? What if he-?

“You lost?” 

Bernard jumped, turning around to see a tall man rise up from behind a dumpster.

He wore a baby blue tracksuit, two swords strapped to his sides, his face shrouded in the darkness. Light hair, possibly blonde, possibly white, hung in strands around his shoulders. He stood about two heads taller than Bernard, and seemed to be doing his best to use that to his advantage, towering over Bernard to try intimidate him.

It didn’t work.

“Were you just… hiding behind a bin?” Bernard asked.

“Umm… yeah, I, uh- shut up, I asked first.”

Bernard sighed. “Clearly not. What’s your gig? You gonna rob me? Are you one of the local traffickers? Maybe a shitty wannabe villain?”

“I’m not a shitty wannabe! I’m a villain. A super villain. See?” The shitty wannabe supervillain unsheathed two glowing swords, a menacing grin growing on his underlit face, long shadows leaving his eyes covered. 

Then, one sword stopped moving, and he tugged at it a bit. After a moment's struggle, the sword came free, something ripping as the lights went out.

“Oh my god,” Bernard groaned. “Tell me you didn’t add LED strips to your swords to make them seem magical. Please.”

“I didn’t do it to make them seem magical, I just-“

Bernard cut the man’s defense short. “Actually, I don’t care. I’m not being involved in your embarrassing ass origin story, so I’m leaving. If you try to stop me, I’ll give you a real tragic backstory, capeesh?”  A shiver of secondhand  embarrassment ran laps up and down Bernard’s spine, before finishing his sentiment. “Just… sort whatever this is out before you try again.”

“I am the Blue Hood, also known as the Blue Death, and I’m going to kill the Red Hood.” The idiot straightened up, puffing out his chest. He tried to cross his arms, but couldn’t with the swords in his hands, so ended up just trying to pose with them on his hips, his wrists bent awkwardly. “You won’t be leaving, and I’m going to hold you hostage to lure in the Red Hood.”

“Wait, is that why you screamed? To lure in the Hood?” Bernard threw his hands in the air, frustration rising. “Do you even know how ridiculously fucking stupid that plan is? Let me guess, you have no clue when his patrol times are. What’s your genius plan, just hide behind that dumpster for the whole night, occasionally screaming on the off chance he turns up? I genuinely think I’m starting to hate you just for how dumb you are. I actually feel insulted that you’re trying to… what is this? Kidnap me?”

He sidestepped the idiot, holding a finger up as he began to move his swords. As he made his way down the street, he caught a glimpse of something glowing nearby, and turned to see a Thing stalking him. Shit.

The Blue Hood (stupid, stupid name) lunged forward, swords raised at Bernard’s chest. Because of course, a dead hostage was a great idea. 

Bernard dodged under the strike, ploughing his fist into Blue Hood’s groin.

Bernard’s attempted kidnapper fell, cursing at the pain, as his swords clattered away from him. The light of the one unbroken sword illuminated the alley, and Bernard pulled the hood of his jacket low over his face, not wanting to be seen on the off chance the Red Hood had actually been drawn in.

“Please,” Bernard begged, “just fuck off.”

“Never!”

The Blue Hood scrambled towards his swords, blue light illuminating his pale skin. He grabbed one, rolling around and waving it wildly in the air, only to realise Bernard had simply stepped out of his reach in his attempt to regain his weapons.

“Come at me if you think you can take me,” he snarled.

“No. Fuck off.”

As Bernard watched the Blue Hood roll around on the trash strewn ground, he didn’t notice the Thing behind him gradually growing closer. It leapt, landing on his back and knocking him to his hands and knee with a yell.

He reached behind himself, grabbing the weird glowing blue and black substance of the Blue Hood’s Thing. He pulled, and slammed it into the ground with all the force he could manage.

The Blue Hood screamed, back arching as the Thing flattened itself against the ground. He gasped, grasping his head, his feet kicking out.

Had Bernard managed to hurt him through his Thing?

Bernard drove his fist into the center of the squished Thing, and another scream made its way to his ears. Definitely related then.

Bernard stood, brushing off the dirt on his hoodie and jeans, making sure his hood had stayed low.

“You ok?” He whispered.

The Blue Hood whimpered.

“Well, I would help you, but you did attack me, so…” 

Tim would help the idiot. Fuck.

He sighed. “I’m too tired for this shit. There’s a clinic nearby, I’ll take you there, and if this shit ever happens again, I will leave you.”

The Blue Hood just groaned in response.

“Good. Also, seriously consider changing your name. Blue Hood will just get you laughed at. I’m literally dying of second hand embarrassment. Maybe that could be your schtick, killing people by being yourself.”

Maybe he was being mean, but as Bernard scraped the Thing off the floor and slung it over his shoulder, and threw the Blue Hood over the other, he realised he really couldn't care less. He’d earnt the bitchiness.

<<<<<>>>>>

Thompkins’ clinic was one of the places Bernard had first learnt of when he moved to the Bowery. He’s heard in passing that some locals could go there and get free, confidential treatment, no matter their issue. 

In the many turf wars and conflicts of Gotham, Leslie Thompkins’ clinics were always steadfast in their neutrality, treating anyone who stepped in, on the condition they never caused problems once inside. Rumor had it that the Red Hood even used it, not to mention the many local villains, and it had some level of protection from any power that had found help in her walls.

Bernard knocked on the front door, nerves coursing through him as he waited for a reply. What time was it? Ten pm? Eleven? Would there even be anyone in?

No lights were on, bar the glow of a fish tank in the office window. 

Next to him, the Blue hood whimpered, rubbing his head. Turns out, he only wore a cheap face mask from some corner store, and his outfit had no reinforcement except for skater pads on his knees and elbows. Bernard held no hope for him improving.

Then, a miracle. Warm lights flickered on in an upstairs window, and the curtains flickered.

Bernard thought about Leslie Thompkins’ clientele- if Red Hood, an associate of the bats, was known to come here, what if the bats did? What if Red Robin did? 

He looked to the still half-conscious Blue Hood, in his stupid trackies, and decided he was happy to bet on Thompkins’ confidentiality on behalf of the president wannabe villain, ripping off the shitty mask and putting it over his own face. He prayed the Blue Hood wasn’t sick.

The door opened, and a white haired old woman appeared, a young, brunette boy at her side. She was dressed in a casual linen shirt, white baggy trousers stopping at her calves. The boy wore a massive red hoodie, his wide blue eyes peering up at Bernard.

“Does your friend need help?” She inquired. “I don’t tend to get unfamiliar clients at this time of night.”

“He has… a migraine, I think. Also I might have broken his dick. By punching it.”

“Oh.” She straightened up. “Alright then, I can try my best. Follow me.”

“There’s no one else inside, is there?”

Bernard tried to peer around the door, suddenly paranoid that Tim would turn around the corner as Esen’s words came back to him; ‘Can’t be too paranoid.’ 

Bernard still had his doubts, but not in this instance. 

He stepped inside.

<<<<<>>>>>

Three hours later, Doctor Thompkins had patched up the Blue Hood, who lay sulking on the cot. Lucky for him, his dick wasn’t broken, but a few other body parts were, and his splitting headache had only just begun to subside, 

“Somehow, I have a feeling I’ll be having this Blue Hood guy in my clinic again.” Doctor Thompkins turned towards Bernard. “What about you, Mr. hidden-in-the-shadows? You’ve been trying your best to not be seen by me, so I’m assuming that means you’re some vigilante type who got caught out with your mask.”

Bernard shrugged. “Not really. Just don’t want to be known around here. I guess I'm… hiding?”

“Could’ve fooled me,” she said, shrugging. “You’re new to the Bowery then?”

She could be trusted. Neutral grounds. Right?   

“Yeah I'm new, but I know the area well. You work with vigilantes a lot though, don’t you?”

“Put up with them is more like it, but yeah. It’s kind of why I asked if you were one- Vigilantes always get mysterious airs about them, just like you have- and you’re definitely in your lone wolf stage, something I hope you get over soon.”

“My lone wolf stage..?” Bernard shook his head. “I’m not even a vigilante, so stop… whatever it is you’re talking about. I’m just a guy that got jumped.”

“Oh yes, a guy who got jumped and managed to give the guy an awful head injury with no physical marks?”

“The guy got a migraine,” he grunted.

She laughed, turning towards her computer. The blue light lit up the small room, and Bernard let his gaze fall on the illuminated equipment laid out on a nearby table. The warmth of the small orange lamp on the desk clashed with the cool lighting, and his gaze followed the dark neutral line between the two lights, trailing the path up the wall, across the ceiling, returning down the cross over the half-asleep Blue Hood.

“You know,” Doctor Thompkins said softly, “I’ve lived over half my life working with vigilantes, so I know a thing or two about them. But I’ve also worked with the civilians of Gotham too. You can come here, vigilante or not, and I’d be happy to help you if ever you need it.”

He hmphed, tilting his head. “Thanks, I guess.”

“I’m serious. I don’t take kindly to scooping people off the pavement. Come to me, I am not asking. I opened this clinic to keep the streets clean, and I won’t be happy if you mess them up with your insides.” Her tone was serious, but the smile in Doctor Thompkins’ eyes settled Bernard’s nerves.

“I’ll keep you in mind if I get a papercut.”

Bernard headed towards the door, head turned under his hood to avoid the light of the hallways showing his face under the shadows. He stopped, just as he reached the door frame.

“Thank you… I appreciate your help with the Blue Hood. He’s clearly too stupid to survive on his own. Maybe you should give him the talk you gave me. I can’t deny it’s got me thinking.”

“I think I’ll give him a modified version of the talk,” she laughed. “Maybe suggest that he retires the- supervillain gig, was it?”

“Hard agree doc. Thanks again, but hopefully I won’t be seeing you again.”

“I hope the same for you. Goodbye, Mr. Hidden-in-the-Shadows.”

“I really need a better name than that.”

“I thought you weren’t a vigilante?” she called after him. 

“Bye, Doctor Thompkins!”

Bernard rounded the corner, making his way down the tight staircase towards the front door. The walls were lined with medical degrees, group photos of patients and medical practitioners alike, and even a few kids’ drawings to brighten up the atmosphere.

He reached the door, but just as he went to turn the lock, a small voice piped up from the doorway leading to a reception area.

“The man you brought in called himself the Blue Hood. Why?” 

Bernard turned, to see the young boy from before peering around the doorway.

“He called himself the Blue Hood because he’s unoriginal and not very bright. You don’t need to be scared of him.”

“I know he’s unoriginal, because I’m the Blue Hood.” Indignation lit up the kid’s voice. “Well, I’m actually called Tyler, but the Red Hood told me I could be the Blue Hood for my superhero name.”

The kid knew the Hood? Bernard was reminded of how close the clinic was to the vigilantes that roamed Gotham- including one elder vigilante, who would definitely dislike his newly-Meta-human presence in the city. Definitely time to disappear.

“Well, in which case, I’m sure the idiot upstairs will soon learn to change his name. You seem like a tough kid. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be caught stealing the name of someone as fearful as the Red Hood’s left hand man. Look, I’ve got to go home, so goodnight-”

“Tyler? I have Batburger for you!”

From the back, a gruff voice called out, as a door opened and slammed shut. Heavy footsteps grew closer, and Bernard stepped back as a familiar figure loomed up behind Tyler.

The Red Hood.

A grey armored shirt and red, sleeveless jacket stretched over six feet of pure muscle. A red face mask combined with a grey domino glared down at Bernard, red eyes directed at his face. His face, which was only covered by his low hood. If they were making eye contact, that meant the Hood had seen him. Shit fuck shit. 

Bernard ducked his head as low as he could. No way was he letting the Hood recognize him from the other night.

“Uh, hello?” The Hood muttered, seemingly taken aback by a stranger in the clinic. “You here on business or somethin’?”

“No,” Bernard whispered, willing whatever luck he had to manifest in the Hood not to recognize his voice. “Just dropping off some idiot. I’m on my way, so you two have a good evening.”

“Bye-bye,” Tyler called, waving Bernard off, a gesture which he returned.

“Yeah, see you around,” The Red Hood muttered, a farewell that set Bernard on edge.

Would he follow Bernard? ‘See you around’ implies that the Hood was expecting them to cross paths again, something Bernard really hoped against. 

He shrugged off the feeling of the Red Hood's eyes following his back, and sprinted down the dark street the second he knew he was out of the sight of the clinic’s windows.

It was only as he walked away that he realized something- The Red Hood had no Thing attached to him either.

<<<<<>>>>>

Five minutes later, Bernard had finally reached his street. Only one streetlamp worked, and even that flickered as he passed underneath. With his apartment only a few more meters away, and the street so quiet even the local dealers had vacated their corners, Bernard was finally able to stop enough to appreciate just how goddamn tired he was. His joints almost ached, and his head definitely ached. He sucked in a deep breath, counting to ten before letting it slowly escape. 

Just two doors away from his apartment building, Bernard stopped.

A small party shop, full of masks and costumes caught his eye. 

The bright colors, the light up decorations, the shiny glitter that coated every surface- none of that caught his eye.

But in the corner, a thin black mask, covered in matching black roses, with two curled horns on either side caught his eye. The piece sat nestled against a wall display, a small white tag attached, reading sale- $10. 

‘Vigilantes always get mysterious airs about them, just like you have’

Bernard smiled, and decided to come back the next day.

[dcbinges]

Detective Comics #574 (1987) by Mike Barr, Alan Davis & Paul Neary

[comicbooksaregood]

Batman: White Knight

Volume: 1

Issue: 1

Writers: Sean Murphy

Pencils: Sean Murphy

Inks: Sean Murphy

Colours: Matt Hollingsworth

Covers: : Sean Murphy, Matt Hollingsworth

DC

[thrushforreal]

Dr. Leslie Thompkins is in the batcave finishing up bi-yearly physicals (Alfred is out of town) for the fam. Trace is helping make sure all information is up to date on the Batcomputer.

Leslie: Alright, Bruce, everything looks okay. Do you have any concerns?

Bruce: No, I do- Why is Tim taking antibiotics? *looking at the computer screen*

Trace: For his spleen??? It says so in the report.

Bruce: Why for his spleen?

Trace: Because He doesn't have one. Sorry, do you not read my med reports?

Bruce: ...

Trace: Why do I bother?! I should just put NOT DEAD in all caps and call it good!

Bruce: Tim doesn't have his spleen?

Trace: God! Do you know how much time and effort I put into these? Hours, WASTED!

Bruce: ...no spleen...

Trace: Next, you're going to tell me that you don't read the others' med reports too, or is it just Tim's.

Bruce: *still lost in his own world*

Trace: By all that's blessed by Diana's hands, I'm going upstairs!

[righteousruin]

WHAT DO YOU WISH YOU COULD SAY?

"please, PLEASE want to know me."

you keep quite literally everything bottled up, don't you? you try to be there for everyone else, but nobody has ever asked about you. you have a mental list in your head of things that you wish beyond wishing that people would ask to know about you, but nobody has. you're afraid that if you tell them, you won't get the response you crave, which gets more and more mysterious and gut-wrenchingly necessary with every day that goes by in silence. it feels like you aren't allowed to exist

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Jazz Fenton, after years of fixing her brother’s injuries, becomes a Doctor with an inclination towards behavioral health and psychology- In order to make the difference she wants to see in the world she joins Dr. Leslie Thompkin’s practice. 

Jazz Fenton, M.D. has spent years of her life doing research, doing the hard work and the emotional labor, and finally, finally, she’s joining a practice she can feel 100% confident in. She’s goddamn good doctor and she wants to make the biggest impact that she can. 

Dr. Thompkins (who insists that she call her Leslie as they’re colleagues now), is a kind woman, sharp as a tack and keeps her practice open at odd hours to help the most unfortunate. It took some time for them to bond and trust to be built, but now Jazz is being allotted a few night shifts here and there. 

It’s incredible. Jazz gets to spend time with the kids who come in and really talk to them (in addition to getting them antibiotics, heating pads and pokemon themed bandaids) to help equip them with a few coping skills. Her passion for psychology never disappeared after all, but the expansive knowledge of how to heal the human body has made her find a sense of fulfillment like no other.

Having proven herself and worn Leslie down, Jazz now takes up about 1/3 of all the night shifts in the month. She’s hoping to get to 50/50 by the end of the year but she’s content with what she has. Danny keeps odd hours anyway so calling him after work on her walk home can happen any time of day and he will always answer enthusiastically. 

It’s a particularly busy night before he comes in. The Red Hood. 

He was known for being an ally to Leslie, despite being on contentious terms with the Bats, but Jazz had never asked directly. Never one to turn away a patient with bullet hole wounds, she hops into action to get his wounds cleaned, sewed up and gauze wrapped. She’s handing him a sheet (an Infographic! Dani made it with her! Graphic design is her passion!) on how to care for his wounds when he first seems to recognize that she’s not Leslie. 

“No, Of course not. I’m Dr. Fenton. I can’t blame you for not remembering but I did introduce myself as you bled in the entry way. You’re Red Hood, right?” 

“Hm. Didn’t realize the practice was expanding. Where can I find-” He grumbles before pushing her hand aside from where she had still been supporting his shoulder.

“Hold on there, mister. You’re going home, you’re following this infographic and you’re going to get some sleep.” 

“Lady you don’t know-” His voice modulated ton came across antagonistically. As if he was trying to intimidate her. Ha, Jazz rolls her eyes at the inclination.

“Who I’m talking to? Who I’m dealing with? You’re hilarious. I can eat you vigilante’s hero complexes for breakfast. Tell me who I’m calling to pick you up and then you can say thank you.” Jazz snaps at him. It really had been a long night but his whole dialogue thus far is making her a bit batty. 

“Oh really Doc? You know Leslie’s tough shit, and from what I can tell you’ve got nothing on her-” 

“Trying to make me feel insufficient when I just saved your life? That’s cute. I’m sure a lifetime of abandonment by both of your parental figures gave you that. I’m also sure that you inherited this desire to prove you’re not going to be dependent on anyone who wants to help from whoever got you dressing up in tights to fight crime in the first place. Again, I’d love to talk at length about how predictable you-” 

“Bwah- wait- I’m Predictable? You’re probably some nepobaby who had parents who told her she could have the world-” But Jazz cuts him off with hysterical laughter- he couldn’t be further from the truth. Her parents loved her, but nepotism? With what, the ghosts? If anything she got that from Danny, but he doesn’t need to know about her ghostly titles. 

“You’re just some guy who came back from the dead and made his trauma everyone else’s issue. So shut it. And tell me how I’m getting you home from this clinic.” She seethes though her voice stays devastatingly level with each word. 

Speechless for a moment, he eventually relents to Jazz that he’s already called for help on the comms but it will be hours before they can come for a pick up. The sun had already come up and the night had been over for most of them before Hood had walked into trouble. She groans and the realizes the time for herself and the empty clinic around them.

“Fine. My shift just ended anyway. I’ll get you home in one piece and I swear to all the ancients that you’d better follow the directions on the infographic.” 

And that’s how Jazz ended up calling her brother while supporting the weight of a grown ass man (who no longer wanted to talk to her) on her walk home. 

The next time Red Hood appears in her clinic, he’s brought a dozen roses in addition to the cut on his neck that definitely needs to be pressurized like ASAP. Did he stop for the flowers on his way to the clinic? He’s going to pass out from blood loss! She doesn’t even like roses!

[sanguineterrain]

Hello madame terrain, I have been thinking about boxer!jason for some time now and I'm wondering if you have any thoughts about him? if not that's totally okay too ☺️ love all your writing!!!

lol hi, madame terrain is adorable 💕 also boxer jason is big brained!!! let's do it ;)

boxer!jason todd x gn!reader. reader is an apprentice to a ringside doctor (leslie thompkins). tw creepy OMC intimidates reader, jason protects/defends r, fluff, my attempt at boxing stuff.

****

Leslie said she'd be back in an hour.

You're currently at the thirty minute mark, hoping for a natural disaster, an angel, anything, because...

"Doc gives me stuff for my pain all the time," Keith says for the third time. "It's real simple."

Keith Dixon is one of the gym's regular fighters. You haven't seen enough matches to judge his fighting, but you can confidently say that his people skills are in the toilet.

He'd barged into the office ten minutes ago and had refused to leave even when you said Leslie was out.

You need to make a break for it.

"You have to wait for Dr. Thompkins," you say, lifting your chin. You won't give in and risk losing this job. No way in hell. "I can't administer medications. I'm not licensed."

Keith rolls his eyes. He's a hothead, new to Gotham. Likes to fight. Likes to fight mean.

"Look, you're new. I'm just giving you a heads-up on how things work around here," he says, backing you up further. You're nearly against the wall.

Where the hell is Leslie?

"I'm sorry, Mr. Dixon, but I can't prescribe painkillers without her supervision."

"Uh-huh. Know what I think? I think you're just not cut out for the ring," Keith says, cornering you against the cabinet. "Cute thing like you shouldn't be hiding in an office. The Doc ought to know better..."

"Is there a problem?"

The new voice makes you flinch, just a little. Keith pulls back, posture easy but guarded. The second guy holds himself similarly. He's also well-built, clad in a gray tee and black sweatpants. His hands are wrapped.

"J-man," Keith says, daggers in his teeth. "Man, I thought you were benched for the week. You meet our new assistant? They're still getting used to how things run around here."

The mystery man looks at you. His eyes are a lovely teal.

"Is he botherin' you?" he asks.

"I—" You swallow. "I was just explaining to Keith that I can't administer medicine without Dr. Thompkins."

Keith huffs. "Jason, tell 'em how this works."

Jason faces Keith. They nearly match each other in height and bulk. You hope to God they don't decide to brawl here and now.

"I think you're the one who needs a reminder, Dixon," Jason says coolly. "Seems pretty straightforward to me. You need to wait for the Doc. So was there something else you needed?"

Keith's mouth presses into a line. You can tell he's got about a hundred ugly thoughts on his tongue right now.

"Nope," he grits out.

"Mm. Then step off."

Keith obeys. You slip out of the corner.

"I'll come back," he says.

"When the Doc's here," Jason adds. It doesn't sound like a suggestion. "If y'need a reminder of her schedule, I don't mind giving you one."

Keith looks at you. You hold his gaze, heart pounding.

"Of course," he says, all false charm, and pushes past Jason. "See ya in the ring, J.T."

You can't relax even after Keith leaves. Jason remains in the doorway. You close your eyes at the thought of dealing with another fighter. It's not bad with Leslie here, but this is your first time alone. It's already a disaster.

Obviously, none of the fighters respect you like they respect Leslie, even after three weeks of you working here. You don't even know all of the fighters.

"Hey." Jason doesn't move from his spot as he asks. "Y'okay?"

"Yes," you say, keeping your back straight. "I'm fine. Do you need medical attention?"

"I just came to get some more wraps. But I can get 'em at home."

His voice is softer now that Keith's gone.

"No need," you say. "That's what I'm here for."

You get a roll of tape from the drawer. It takes you three tries to pull the edge out. You drop it twice.

You feel Jason's eyes on you. You keep pulling the tape, but it won't comply.

"I got it," he says. "I can wrap myself. Toss it here."

You pause, tape half unfurled. "Dr. Thompkins told me to do all wraps myself."

"Leslie's cool. I won't tell her, anyway."

You shake your head. "Why don't you want me to wrap your hands?"

Jason glances to the side. He leans against the doorframe, purposely casual.

"'Cause Keith's a big guy. And I'm a big guy. And your hands are still shaking."

You tighten your grip on the tape.

Jason gestures to the office. "This is your space. I won't come in if you don't want me to. That's not how this works."

"It's... it's the job," you say, startled. "I don't—I've heard that Keith's rough with everybody."

"Yeah, well, he's an asshole. You shouldn't have to be rough back. Good fighters turn it off outside of the ring. I don't want to make you feel small. Alright?"

Tension bleeds out of your spine. You no longer feel like prey.

"It's easier if I wrap them for you," you say, and turn your back on him to fetch the antiseptic.

The tiles behind you creak as Jason hesitates for a moment. Then he walks in and sits in a chair, so you're higher than him.

He looks up at you. He really does have beautiful eyes. His eyelashes are dark and delicate. There's a faded bruise on his cheek.

He's boyishly handsome, with a mouth that looks like it smiles a lot.

"Do you also fight here?"

He nods. "Since I was eighteen. Been here a while."

You take one of his hands in both of yours. Jason's already thrown out the old tape. His knuckles are cut up. They're covered in scars. His fingernails are short and neat.

His hands are big, far bigger than yours. Veins feed into each other from the backs of his hands up his forearms.

You take out the antiseptic spray.

"Might be cold," you warn.

"'S okay."

You spray his skin. Jason doesn't even flinch.

"Your hands are really soft," he says.

"Oh, thank you. I use Isley's Salve. Works great."

Why did you share that?

Jason's mouth quirks. "Yeah? Might have to try that. My hands have seen better days."

"I have some in my bag." You let go of the half-done wrap and dig through your backpack. You pull out the small tube of salve and squeeze some onto his hands.

Jason is quiet and still as you rub in the lotion. He's pliant as you finish the wraps, letting you turn his hands over. You pull the wraps tight.

"All done," you say, face suddenly warm like you've been caught doing something you weren't supposed to.

He flexes his hands a few times. "Thanks. You're good. I can see why Leslie chose you as her apprentice."

You shrug. "Anybody can wrap hands."

"Dunno. I've seen some pretty shit wraps in my time."

"Oh. Well, um, I'm here most of the time, so feel free to come by and get your wraps changed."

He hums. "Sure. Don't worry 'bout Keith. I'll take care of it."

Your eyes widen. "I don't want more trouble..."

"You won't get trouble, I promise. We don't tolerate that here. 'Sides, he's overstayed his welcome."

You nod. "Okay. Thank you, Jason."

"No need for thank you's. Y'alright getting home?"

"Yes, I'm okay. Leslie's dropping me."

Jason nods, then picks himself up. He pauses like he wants to say something else, but he strides out of the room like he's in a rush instead.

"Well, um. G'night," he says over his shoulder. "Take care."

It's about fifteen more minutes until Leslie returns.

"Everything alright?" she asks in a tone that tells you she already knows the answer. "I ran into Jason on my way in. He said Keith Dixon gave you some trouble. I'm sorry I took so long. Are you alright?"

"You ran into—I thought Jason went home for the night."

Leslie looks like you've just told her the sky is red. "He wanted to make sure you were okay. So he waited till I came back. Are you okay? Did Keith hurt you?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm alright. Just shaken up. He's a bully. Wanted painkillers."

Leslie frowns. "He won't bother you again. I'll make sure you're not alone."

"It's okay. I mean, Jason was there."

She nods. "Mm. He's a good boy. I know his father."

"Yeah, he, uh, was nice. I wrapped his hands."

Leslie raises an eyebrow. Your shoulders rise.

"What?" you ask. "You said to practice my wraps."

She shrugs. "Nothing, nothing. I did tell you that. I'm glad you got some practice in."

You follow her to her car. Soon, Leslie pulls out of the lot.

"Leslie, do you mind if we stop at CVS?"

"Sure. What for?"

You feel for the little tube in your pocket.

"Need more Isley's Salve... I'm, uh, running low."

[bet-on-me-13]

Dr's Assistant Danny

So, Danny has to run away from Amity after deciding to tell his parents about his powers. They acted like they accepted him, but when his back was turned they shot him with one of their Inventions and dragged him into the Lab for Study.

They think he's been taken over by a Ghost and decide to be "Surgeons" by opening him up and removing the Ghost by hand. Throughout all of this, they are just telling Danny that they are qualified doctors and can definitely do this perfectly. But they don't even use Anesthesia, and don't know the first thing about Surgery. But their delusions of being perfect Doctors have taken a hold of them, and they can't even comprehend the idea that they are doing it wrong.

After a week of "Surgeries", they mess up and forget to lock his Cell, and Danny manages to escape, hopping on a Bus headed to New Jersey.

He ends up in Gotham, hiding in an Alley to avoid Civilians and to bandage himself up. Thankfully his parents stitched him up fairly well after the last session, but he is still really hurt. And the cuffs restricting his powers don't help either.

He passes out in the Alley and wakes up in a Doctors Office. He panics, thinking that his parents found him and took him back to the Lab. Thankfully, the resident Dr rushes in to calm him down.

It's Dr Leslie Thompkins, and she really wants her patient to stop struggling thank you very much.

She manages to calm him down, and explains that she found him in the Alley, but that he was seriously injured. He was out for 4 days.

He explains what he can, that he told his parents that he had powers and that they didn't take it well. Not the Ghost thing, but he does explain that his parents could charitably be referred to as "Mad Scientists", and Dr Thompkins figures it out from there.

Since he doesn't have a place to stay, she let's him stay at her place. It's not much, but it's enough for 2 people.

After a few days, he starts helping out in the Clinic as a way to repay her.

After a few weeks, he starts taking on the bigger jobs and starts learning about medical aid

A few months in, and both Danny and Leslie realize that he has basically become her Personal Assistant. So she trains him in the legitimate way, teaching him all she can about being a Doctor and basically everything he would have learned in Medical School, which really helps with his trauma over the whole "constant unethical surgery from people who claimed to be licensed professionals" thing.

He still has those Restraining Cuffs on, they could never figure out how to take them off and they were basically unbreakable, but he was fine on his own.

And a note to add to this is that all of this is taking place in the early Years of Batman, like Years 1 and 2. So it's certainly a shock when Danny walks in for work and sees The Batman lying on a Cot.

Over the many following years, Danny gets used to his life in Gotham. He managed to contact Jazz, and his friends as well, even if they needed to keep it very secret for fear of his parents finding out.

He manages to get on friendly terms with most of the Bat Family from their many, many, many visits to the Clinic.

He never does reveal his past to them, he knows that they would never not poke their noses into it, so he tried to keep it on the down low around them. He even hid his Cuffs all these years. (He doesn't want to attract his parents attention)

But that all changed one day.

He messes up. He accidently calls Jazz outside of their scheduled safe times and his parents just so happen to be visiting her new house at the time. They pick up the call for her, and Danny, not knowing it's not Jazz on the other end, says "Hey Jazz, it's Danny. Just wanted to let you know that I'll he busy with work for a while so I won't be able to call as often".

When he gets no response, he gets concerned and asks "Jazz? You there?"

His parents immediately begin to trace the Call, but before they can get an exact location Danny wises up and hangs up. Buts it's too late, his Parents know he's in Gotham now, even if they don't know exactly where.

Danny doesn't know that they tracked him down though, but he quickly figures it out when Red Hood is rushed into the Clinic a week later after being attacked by "A big guy in an orange jumpsuit with a laser gun", who was joined by "A tiny lady in a blue jumpsuit with a baseball bat"

The Drs Fenton reached Gotham and immediately began tracking any Ecto-Signatures they could find. And Red Hood just so happened to be the closest one.

Now Danny has to find a way to deal with his parents without his powers. Since the Anti-Ecto Laws are still in effect, they aren't technically doing anything Illegal, and their Government Contracts would protect them either way.

He needs to figure out how to get rid of them. Due to the high concentration of Ectoplasm in Gotham, there are many unknowing Liminals in the City. His parents could end up attacking many innocent Civilains in search for him, maybe even subjecting them to the same things he was subjected to.

The only way he can think to do that is to give himself up.

Of course he knows Dr Leslie would disagree, but before she can stop him he sneaks out in the middle of the night, leaving a note thanking her for all that she had done for him over the years. It explains that the people who attacked Red Hood are his infamous Parents, and that they are searching for him. They could end up hurting alot of people if they stay, so he needs to nip this in the bud and is going to turn himself in to them.

She immediately takes the note to Batman.

She still vividly remembers the state she found Danny in. He still has the V-Shaped Scar on his chest from his experiences with his parents, and she'll be damned if she' going to let that happen to him again. (She kind of adopted him as her son a while ago)

She tells them everything. How she found him in the Alley, his injuries, how she nursed him back to health, his story about Meta-Hating Mad Scientist Parents, the unbreakable Cuffs he always hid, all of it.

Now it's a race to find Danny and save him from his Parents again.

[dc-tournaments]

[not-another-robin]

Drawing idea or not, what do you think of Alfred and Dr. Leslie Tompkins together?

Leslie Thompkins is the Lesbian Grandma Ever to me. She hates Alfreds guts in a brotherly fashion. She would sell him to Satan for a corn chip but she has saved his life before and would do it again in a heart beat. They carpooled to gay bars and pride parades and riots for decades. She is over at the manor 3 times a week yelling at Alfred and Bruce. Alfred pesters her about potential girlfriends even more frequently.

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do Part 27

Wc:3213 Masterpost CW: Hospitalization, discussions of temporary character deaths

The hospital was pure chaos. Reporters were at the door, police were at the reporters to stay back, and the Waynes were pacing.

None of them had wanted to be left behind, not with this, so as soon as those who had been playing hero changed, they all headed for the hospital. Bruce had met them in a waiting room that had been cleared out for their use. There were benefits to having a wing named after one’s father.

“Clear,” Babs said as she and Tim finished typing on the tablets that they had brought from WE. “CTV cameras will just loop past this room.”

“There are no bugs. I’ve activated scramblers for parabolic mics or anything, not that they should be able to get to us in here anyways,” Tim said.

“What happened?” Steph asked, looking to Bruce.

Bruce looked to Dick. The rest of the eyes followed.

Dick sighed.

“It’s not my secret to tell.”

“I believe we are past that, Richard,” Damian snapped.

“Why don’t you start with a debrief of tonight,” Bruce coached.

“I was almost in suit when Babs came over the comms, telling us they took Danny. I started to look for suspicious vehicles given the time frame. I wasn’t successful at spotting anything before the…” Dick was really glad that Jason was back with Danny and not here listening to this. “…before the trap went off. I saw one of the buildings go dark.

"Cass joined me. We took out the henchmen at the van and leading into the building. Based on intel, I headed straight for the basement. The place was flooded an inch or two deep. They broke the sprinkler valve, I believe. Danny was tied to a metal chair bolted in the middle of the room. A wire had been tapped into the circuit breaker and was at Danny’s feet. His shoes were off.”

Dick swallowed hard and let his arms drop to his side. That urge to punch something was still there. He flexed his hands and then purposefully relaxed them.

“I was sure he was dead, but when I called out his name he moved. I made sure the circuit breaker was off, disconnected the wire, and went to him. He was…” Dick snorted, shaking his head. “He was making jokes. He was conscious but not fully lucid. Confusion, slurred words, panic. He didn’t want to be taken to the hospital. He thought they would cut him open if ‘they knew’. I was able to convince him to come by saying we’d get Leslie and that we’d protect him.”

Damian scoffed. “Of course we will.”

“Case?” Cass signed, face scrunched up in question.

“And asked Alfred to bring a case, one that Jason put in the Cave that Danny gave him,” Dick confirmed.

“What’s in it?” Tim asked.

Dick just shook his head.

“He’s a Meta, isn’t he?” Duke asked. The question was quiet, but it felt loud in the tense air of the waiting room. He wasn’t staring at the ground rather than any of them. “Something new. Maybe something dangerous or, worse, something useful. It’s why he’s afraid they’ll cut him open.”

Steph cussed and turned to punch the wall only to be stopped by Tim.

“Is he?” Tim asked.

It seemed like there was no getting out of this question. “’Close enough’ was the way it was put when I stumbled in on… the secret.”

“Are his powers electricity based?” Babs asked. “Is that how he survived?”

Dick laughed. The bitter sound made a few of the others flinch or grimace.

“No, opposite, really. He’s weak to it. I think they only got him because they used tasers and it really knocks him out.” I’m so sorry, Danny, Dick thought. “Danny… Danny’s been electrocuted before when he was a kid. It killed him, however briefly. Really… I’m not sure if it didn’t actually kill him again tonight.”

This time Tim didn’t stop Stephanie from punching the wall.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Dr. Thompkins said as she peeled off her gloves.

Danny just glared at the IV in his hand that had been carefully tapped down and put under a mesh glove.

“It’s like she doesn’t trust me,” Danny whispered loudly to Jason.

“She’s right not to,” Jason said.

Danny pouted at him.

“Fish,” Jason said with a wet chuckle. He ran his hand through Danny’s hair again, which seemed to soothe him. “You said loudly and repeatedly that you were going to go out the window as soon as she stopped watching you or if she took your blood or if she put the IV in.”

“She did take it,” Danny whined.

“I did,” Leslie said, “and I also promised you no one else would get a hold of your blood and I meant it. I need a baseline for you though. It’s my job now to make sure that you’re well.”

“And no clones,” Danny said.

“And no clones,” Leslie said.

She shot Jason a look who just shrugged helplessly. He didn’t know enough about what went down with that to answer her questions.

Leslie gave up with a sigh. “You really went and found someone who fit right in with the family craziness I see.”

“Nah, Doc, he goes above and beyond.”

“Well… that should make for an interesting file.”

Danny flinched at that, hard enough for Leslie to notice and stop what she was doing.

“Danny, listen to me,” Leslie said. She waited until Danny met her eyes to continue. “No one else will see the file. It’s encrypted by Oracle, Batman’s tech person, and that’s understating them. I need to keep a file so that I can treat you and keep you healthy, that’s all.”

“No experiments,” Danny croaked.

Jason wanted to punch someone again.

“No experiments,” Leslie promised.

Danny gave a little nod, turned away from her, and all but climbed into Jason’s lap.

“Make sure he doesn’t pull that IV out,” Leslie ordered and went back to making her notes.

Not long after Jason had gotten him and Danny settled into the hospital bed, there was a knock at the door. Jason’s hand went immediately to the scalpel that Leslie had generously pretended not to notice Jason palming earlier. It didn’t matter that it was a knock Jason recognized, he wasn’t taking any chances with Danny right then.

Jason only relaxed when Dick had stepped fully through the door alone.

“Hey Danny, how are you doing?”

“Leslie took my blood.”

“Yeah, she does that,” Dick said. He was smiling, words cheerful, but Jason could see the cracks in his brother’s facade. “Alfred is going to be here in just a moment with the case. Can I send him in when he arrives? Or I can bring it myself? Or any of us. We’re all out there.”

Danny turned his head enough to be able to peer at Dick with one eye. “You’re worried.”

“Yeah, little fish, we’re all pretty worried. We care about you,” Dick said gently.

Jason resisted the urge to kiss Danny’s pout away as he shifted his gaze from Dick to Leslie.

“Can they come in?” Danny asked.

Leslie pursed her lips. “Only for a half hour. After that, it’s only Jason and one other allowed at a time and that’s only because I want Jason to try to get some rest too. Whoever else is in here is on a minimum two hour shift so not to wake you up every five minutes.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dick chirped.

“And tell them to keep it calm,” Leslie called after Dick as he slipped back out the door. She sighed and shook her head before focusing back on Danny. “Now, there will be nurses who come in.”

“Noooo,” Danny whined.

“Yes,” Leslie said. “They’ll just be taking your blood pressure, which they’ll know to expect to be low, and changing out your saline and pain medication. I’ll be back in the morning myself to check on your burns. Everyone who steps foot in this room will be approved by Bruce and I. Someone from the family will be with you the whole time, you’ll be safe in every way.”

Danny’s pout deepened before he sighed heavily and seemed to deflate. “Fine.”

“Thank you, Danny. Now please try to rest after the group leaves, both of you.”

“Sure, Doc,” Jason answered and sent her a smile. He’d have to do something to help her clinic out soon, she really went above and beyond for them tonight. He managed to get Danny turned around so that his boyfriend wasn’t buried face first into his pecs before his family invaded.

It seemed like everyone was really trying to listen to Leslie and they all filed in orderly and tucked themselves onto the couch and chairs and each other. Bruce and Alfred stayed standing.

“Hi guys,” Danny said with a wobbly smile.

Some of the family flinched at how ruined Danny’s voice sounded. The flinches weren’t obvious to be noticed by anyone by a Bat, except maybe for Duke’s, but they still happened and Jason noticed. They all looked wrecked, really, in various ways. One would almost think they had been the ones kidnapped and murdered tonight.

It was Jason’s turn to flinch at his own thoughts. Greedily, he soothed himself by pressing a kiss to Danny’s temple.

“Hi Danny,” Duke said back. “How are you?”

“You know, feeling a little extra crispy,” he joked.

The room seemed to lose all the air for a moment before Tim groaned. “God, there are two of them now. No wonder you’re dating Jason, you have the same morbid sense of humor.”

The tension in the room broke and Barbie even laughed. (They all ignored how the laugh was a little too tinged with hysteria to be truly happy.)

Alfred cleared his throat and stepped forward. “The case, Master Jason.”

“Ooh, is that…” Danny asked, zeroing in on the case.

“Yep,” Jason confirmed, popping the ‘p’.

Danny held out his arms, making grabby hands at the case. Alfred raised a brow, looking to Jason for permission, before he moved forward and handed over the case. Jason rested his hand on the lid before Danny could open it.

“So,” Jason started. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “no one freak out, okay? What’s in the case isn’t what it looks like. And… and we’ll explain?”

He wasn’t sure if they would.

He wasn’t sure if they could afford not to.

“We’ll explain,” Danny confirmed.

“Okay, Jay-lad,” Bruce agreed, though Jason could tell he didn’t know what he was agreeing to, other than trusting his son.

Jason took a breath and removed his hand. Danny flipped the lid open. It was innocuous at first, a simple black padded case. Then Danny plucked out one of the glowing, Lazarus green ectoshots and the stances of several Bats shifted.

“That is—” Damian started.

“Nope,” Jason interrupted.

“Jay—” Bruce rumbled.

“I’m sure,” Jason said. He glanced at Cass. “Really.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Tim asked, sounding a little strangled.

“Drink it,” Danny answered.

“Drink it?!”

Danny’s nose wrinkled. “Does everyone in this room have issues with that— what did you call it— Pit water?”

“Pit water or Lazarus water,” Jason said. He calmly ran his fingers through Danny’s hair as he made sure to not have a reaction to the ectoshots. Danny needed to drink them, he couldn’t have any of it spilled from misplaced panic. “And a lot of us, yeah. It’s… been a thing. My situation didn’t help any.”

Tim frowned at the vial, clearly itching to get his hands on it. “If that’s not Lazarus water, what is it?”

“Ectoplasm,” Danny sing songed and then just downed the vial to the wince of the room. A shudder ran through his body before he slumped bonelessly against Jason.

Jason plucked the empty vial from Danny’s limp fingers, pressed a kiss to his temple, and put it back in the case. “From best we can think without getting our hands on Lazarus water, they’re a bit related, but ectoplasm is a pure source where as whatever Lazarus water is, it’s fucked up. Beyond that, I think…”

Jason sighed and buried his face in the top of Danny’s head. He didn’t know how to explain the next part to his family. He didn’t know how to tell them he was still, at least a little, dead. He didn’t want to hurt them like that.

“Ectoplasm isn’t a miracle cure, not like it sounds they use Lazarus water for,” Danny said around a jaw cracking yawn. “Doesn’t work for normal people.”

“Does it work for you because you’re a meta?” Duke asked. The sympathy in his voice was hard to hear.

Danny’s laugh wasn’t any easier to hear. “Nope! I mean, like, sure how you count Superman as a meta I’m a meta, I guess. More a different species.”

Steph made an incredulous noise. “You’re an alien?”

“I wish,” Danny snickered. “I’m dead.”

“That is not funny, Nightingale,” Damian snapped.

Jason peered up at his bristling little brother. Demon brat really was already attached to Danny. “He’s not trying to be funny, Dami. Danny is half dead or, rather, half ghost.”

“Okay, which of your parents fucked a ghost?”

“Miss Stephanie,” Alfred chastised.

“Sorry Alfie,” Stephanie mumbled under Danny’s snickering.

At least having almost died (again) tonight saved Danny from being admonished too.

“Ancient, no, my parents hate ghosts,” Danny said.

“But you’re half ghost,” Babs pointed out, gently.

“Yeah. And there’s a reason that I changed my last name and don’t talk to them anymore, not that they know,” Danny said. He stretched out his arms, arching like a cat. Clearly the ectoshot was starting to have an effect. “No, I’m half dead ‘cause I died and then didn’t.”

“You’ve died before, Danny?” Bruce asked, voice carefully gentle in that way he used only when talking to his kids or those who were basically family through his kids.

“Yeah,” Danny sighed. “It was, um, don’t like talking about it. It’s a ghost thing. But my parents built a portal to the ghost’s realm to try and study them. It didn’t work, not at first. I stepped in it, tripped, hit the on button and bam… ten thousand volts of electricity later and I’m dead.”

Tim and Cass both reached out to stop Steph from moving.

“Thing is, the portal turned on,” Danny continued. “So I also got pure ectoplasm shot right through me. It brought me back, kinda. I’m a halfa; half ghost and half human. Half dead and half alive.”

“You’ve died by electricity before,” Bruce said into the silence of the room.

“Probably died again to it tonight,” Danny said with a casualness that had Jason tightening his arms around Danny. Danny just giggled. “But like I told Dick, I’m immune now.”

“You know,” Barbie said. She narrowed her eyes as Danny shrugged before she glanced to Dick. “And you knew.”

Dick sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Little wing?”

“Go ahead, Dick. I’m pretty sure you’ve connected all the dots now,” Jason said. Maybe it would be easier, no, smoother if Dick explained it. He was better at hiding his anger.

Though by the way Dick had to shift on his feet, maybe not. “I… I think I have. Then you’re…?”

Jason nodded.

“Fuck!” Dick twisted and paced to the door and back again.

“Master Richard!”

“Don’t be so harsh, Alfie,” Jason said. He couldn’t make Dick be the one to tell them; that had been a selfish hope. “Dick just put two and two together that if the ectoshots only help Danny because he’s dead—”

“Part dead,” Danny chimed in brightly.

“—then that means I’m still part dead too.”

“Jay-lad?” Bruce prompted after a tense moment, voice rough.

Jason just smiled sadly. “The Pits healed me. It sorta… filled in the cracks, but it couldn’t fix that whatever brought me back didn’t bring all of me back… or couldn’t bring all of me back. I think that’s part of why the Pits had such a hold on me. Not that it’s an excuse, but just… whatever. Point is, I’m a halfa too, even if I’m still healing enough to be a proper one.”

The family practically curled around each other in grief. Dick tucked Damian against his side. Tim slumped into Steph and Cass. Steph reached out to squeeze Bab’s hand. Bruce took an aborted step towards them. Even Alfred raised a hand to his mouth.

“I’m alright,” Jason assured them.

“You’re still dead!” Dick snapped.

“I’m half alive, that’s more than I was before,” Jason pointed out.

Dick hunched into himself at that, prompting Damian to give Dick an awkward looking hug.

“What all does that mean, being a halfa?” Bruce asked. He held up a hand as he paused and took a measured breath. “I don’t mean that as an interrogation. Right now, what’s important for us to know to make sure you’re both healthy? Or is there anything that we should avoid doing?”

Jason snorted. He appreciated the clarification, the attempt at being gentle, he did, but, “I know you want to know more than that.”

Bruce smiled, though the expression was more mocking himself than anything. “Of course I do. You know me, chum, I don’t do good with only pieces of information, but right now I’m not the important one. I can deal with some… unease so that we can focus on you and Danny.”

“Danny should drink at least another ectoshot in a bit. They help us heal as halfas. Dick knows because there was an incident where I got stabbed. Danny sensed my distress and showed up to give me an ectoshot. I had called Dick already. Which means Danny also knows about everything.”

“Danny sensed your distress?” Tim asked.

“It’s a ghost thing,” Jason said with a shrug, unsure how to really explain it. “It comes from ghosts having cores which are sort of their central organ.”

“You core?” Cass asked, clearly struggling to verbalize right then with how her nose wrinkled.

“I do. Or, I’m getting more of one. Because the Pits put me back together badly I was really messed up.”

“It’s coming in well,” Danny said sleepily. He yawned wildly (a little too widely) and turned to bury his face into Jason’s chest. “Pretty lava core too. It’s good to have close for healing. It’s warm and lovely.”

Jason snorted and kissed the top of Danny’s head. “Go to sleep if you can. You’ll need lots of rest.”

Danny huffed a mumbled protest, but Jason could tell that Danny was fading fast.

“We’ll talk more later, Jay-lad,” Bruce said as he finally let himself come close to help Danny and Jason better settle into the hospital bed to sleep.

“Yeah,” Jason said as he fought his own yawn as the head of the bed lowered. “Have to have Danny show you his ghost form, it’s really something.”

Tim echoed ‘ghost form’ quietly in the background as Alfred murmured something to the group.

“Do you want myself or Dick here for the first shift?” Bruce asked.

“Stay?” Jason asked. His eyes dropped closed as his dad ran a hand through his hair.

“Always.”

---

AN: a very tired taaaaaada. They got the bulk of the explanation! Though still things to learn and talk about. I was going to put in more bits, but this felt full the way it was! Next chapter more answers, more questions, and someone shows up.

I no longer tag people but you can subscribe on the masterpost.

[gffa]

I would like to say I've slowed down a bit on BATFAMILY fic over the last month, but that's kind of a lie because fandom has put out some absolute banger longer fics and I've been reading a lot of comics (can you believe how many comics I've been enjoying?? I have never felt so spoiled for choice!), so I still feel like I'm inhaling everything as fast as I can go and it's GREAT. It's a constant stream of crying about fictional characters in canon, crying about fictional characters in sad fic scenarios, crying about fictional characters in happy fic scenarios, and crying about fictional characters because other people care about our babies, too. Also, I have decided I no longer have a Dick Grayson Problem that you must all suffer through to get some variety in the recs, but instead I have a Dick Grayson Solution. You're all welcome. But I'll mix it up a bit just for you guys, so hopefully you find something fun to read no matter your fave and have a good time, because this fandom has been knocking it out of the park with the fic that has given me a good time, READ AND CRY WITH ME, OKAY. BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ Grounded by WingFeathers, dick & bruce & clark & wally & ma kent & pa kent & background clark/bruce & cast, 60.4k     In the early days of the Justice League, Bruce is out more and more frequently on League missions, and Dick (age 13) is growing more and more restless and lonely stuck at home. His friends can't know he's Robin, and there are no superheroes Dick's age--or so he thinks, until Bruce receives a call from Barry, desperately seeking mentorship advice. Dick asks to meet the Flash's new sidekick, but Bruce refuses; a fight ensues, ending in Dick getting grounded. One week in Gotham off patrol, and then two weeks alone, far from Gotham... at a little family farm in Smallville, Kansas. And hey, if a certain Midwestern speedster sidekick just so happens to turn up, that'd be just fine. Or would it?

✦ trust in serum by deargalileo, dick & bruce & alfred & clark, 15.7k     "I believe the serum is a mixture of chemicals that compels the target to be completely honest, even against their own will." "You got hit with a truth serum?" Bruce winced as Dick's voice reached a high pitch. "Really?!" "Yes, really."

✦ Storge by CKBookish, dick & bruce & alfred, 5.4k     “Your dad must have his hands full with you.” Elizabeth Ribbons leaned forward and patted Dick’s shoulder, as he reached for yet another slice of cheesecake from a passing waiter’s tray. Bruce fixed his eyes on the ice sculpture that hid him from view. It suddenly seemed like the most interesting design in the world. The soft lines of the ice on the otherwise insignificant over sized swan seemed like a lead shield... Because Dick would read it easily in his expression. He wanted to be Dick’s dad. But he wasn’t.

✦ Robin Wings by JeanjacketCarf, dick & clark & bruce & cast, 3.4k     Clark wakes in a panic, unsure what has jarred him from his sleep. Until he notices Robin's absence from Batman's side.

✦ Hey! He Attempted a Coup! by PandasandDucks13, dick & bruce & clark & justice league & cast, 6.8k wip     What if Dick Grayson was a Kryptonian?

✦ grief mosaic by newsical, dick & bruce & alfred & leslie, 1.3k     Grief paints Dick’s days in muted shades of red and yellow and green. He grows to expect sleepless nights and sweat-drenched sheets. In turn, he finds late night companions in Alfred, with his old movies and stories, and Bruce, who wears the colors of his own grief to prevent its spread to others. Dr. Thompkins writes a letter to Bruce diagnosing Dick with PTSD.

✦ before this ends by emavee, dick & bruce, 2.5k     Mr. Wayne would definitely be angry if he knew what Dick was planning, but it’s not as if Dick is going to be here long anyway. Might as well take the opportunity to fly one last time, while he still has the chance.

✦ A Light at the End of the Tunnel by dizarys, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.6k     Maybe the parenting and grieving books he skimmed the highlights from last week–and Alfred–were right. Why else would Dick have approached their newest case with such ferocity and determination? At first, Bruce chalked it up to empathy. Seeing another child crying after his parents were murdered was something Batman and Robin could relate to.

✦ Last Night of Sadness by gothamshero (emhyr), dick & bruce & slade & william cobb, 6.1k     Dick Grayson has to take liberties when he’s a civilian, but he still knows when he’s being followed.

✦ Starlings in Winter by FromStarstuff, dick & bruce & clark & cast, 18k wip     When Dick was eleven years old he ran away from Gotham. No one could quite figure out why. Take your pick; there was a fight at school, a circus in town, and a song he can’t remember the melody of. Eleven-year-old Dick Grayson was flooded with grief, swimming in it, perpetually drowning. One day it was too much.

✦ What Defines A Father by Browniesarethebest, dick & bruce & justice league & cast, 7.7k wip     Batman hasn't known the newly formed Justice League long enough to trust them, but he's willing to put everything on the line when the one thing he cares for most is taken somewhere he can't easily follow.

✦ Stolen Son by springfox (dallystrings), dick & bruce & cast, 8.6k     Bruce’s heartbeat sped up, but he leveled his breathing to remain clear headed. After another thirty seconds he abandoned the cart and walked briskly through the store, searching every row in a growing panic. “Dick?” he called, “Dick, can you hear me? Where are you, chum?”

BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ Learning Experience by strikeyourcolors, dick & bruce, 2.3k     "Does it ever get easier?" Dick asks. Bruce isn't technically old enough to be his father biologically, but those deep blue eyes are looking at him as a child beseeching a parent. "Some nights I feel like I can't do this anymore, Bruce. I can't be Nightwing."

✦ Rainbow Puppies by zombiesbecrazy, dick & bruce, 2.4k     Bruce really wanted to hate Pamela Isley right now, but all that he could focus on was how much he admired the way she passionately fought for her beliefs and how he could applaud her application of her educational background into practical endeavors to her cause, however misguided. Being hit with one of Ivy's toxins has Bruce babbling like a fool.

✦ the business of the very few by dustorange, dick & bruce, 4.2k     “I was trying,” Bruce says, “to respect your privacy.”

✦ notches in the door frame by dizarys, dick & bruce, 2.1k     Bruce hadn't been prepared for his days or nights to feel so empty. And he wasn't sure how to interact with the young man before him now. Because Robin didn't need Batman anymore. --- A patrol gone wrong forces Bruce and Dick to finally talk about Robin becoming Nightwing and feelings they'd been avoiding.

✦ No Comfort in the Shade by mx_chrx99, dick & bruce, 3.4k     Dick Grayson is having a hard time and Bruce is there to help.

✦ The Long Distance by takadainmate, dick & bruce, 1.2k     Down here they're not Batman and Nightwing. They’re Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson. But they still fight.

BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ tender will fall by dizarys, dick & bruce & donna & jason & cast, 3.5k     When the Titans are devastated in an attack, they go to Batman in a last ditch effort to rescue one of their own.

✦ the hardest part by emavee, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass, no powers au, 5.8k     Dick is dreading his eighteenth birthday and everything that it means for him as a foster kid. His time with his family is running out, and he needs to be prepared for what comes next, to be on his own again.

✦ 5 Times Dick Grayson Was Grateful for His Insomnia + 1 Time He Wasn't by avengemyheart, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & alfred & wally, 5.7k     Dick can't sleep, but that's a good thing. He finds himself helping the people he cares about late at night throughout the years. Eventually though, everyone realizes just how intense his insomnia can get. Or: A 5 +1 thing about Dick's insomnia.

✦ A Darker Shade of Gotham by JackHawksmoor, dick & bruce & tim & alfred, 8.3k wip     Dick and Tim are stuck in a crappy alternate universe where most of the heroes they know are dead, Bruce Wayne's bad health meant he never became Batman, and Tony Zucco runs Gotham City's underworld. When Dick is shot by the mob, they take a risk and go to Bruce for help. Alternate Bruce didn't have children, but as he gets to know Dick and Tim, he starts wishing he did.

✦ leave as though fire burns under your feet by perissologist, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cast, read the tags, 33k     That glow is gone, now. Gone from Dick’s skin, gone from inside him. It used to shine out of him, out of all the cracks the world put in him. But now Bruce looks down at him, and he is as dark and cold as a snuffed star. That’s what gets to him the most—not how cold the morgue is under its colorless fluorescent lighting, or the cloying smell of formaldehyde that clogs his throat. It’s how still Dick is, on the cold, sterile surface of the examiner’s table. It’s unnatural. The boy never learned how to sit still.

✦ papers say it's doomsday by dottie_dc (dottie_wan_kenobi), dick & bruce & donna & cast, 2.5k     Half-laughing at his own joke, Nightwing starts to say, “He just doesn’t—” In the space of one word, one breath, and the next—the world ends.

✦ Ibn al Xu'ffasch by hellsreluctantheir, dick & bruce & damian & jason & cast, 16.2k     Batman when they’d thought Bruce was dead was one kettle of fish. Batman when the original Batman was around was another. In his head, Robin—perched on a gargoyle next to him—tutted like an eighty-year-old, and rolled his eyes like the kid he was.

BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ our aspirations are wrapped up in books by theragingstorm, damian & barbara & cast, 1.8k     Damian's been confined to bed rest. Someone unexpected helps him.

✦ remind me why I'm here again? by dizarys, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & bernard(/tim), 3.5k     Jason's at a Wayne gala. He doesn't want to be. Good thing his siblings are there too. "Were we mean?" Dick mused, "Or just being big brothers?" "He's holding your hoodie hostage." "You're right. We went too easy on him."

✦ put away childish things by bittlebarnes (monroesherlock), dick & damian & clark & jon & barbara & ma kent, 7.2k     "I was sent here as a punishment, surely," Damian deadpans. "Are you feeling punished?" Martha sounds like she’s laughing at him. Unacceptable. "Absolutely."

✦ a hero by hellsreluctantheir, bruce & dick & jason, 15.5k     Dick Grayson died in Amusement Mile. Four years later, Jason Todd is Robin. But he's not dressed in the costume when he hears about a new player in Crime Alley; a man in a red helmet.

✦ Improvise A Symphony by cabezas_de_vaca, bruce & dick & alfred & cast, 5.5k     Or: three generations of Wayne and Wayne-adjucacent men do their absolute best.

✦ The Second Stage by nightwalker, tim & jason & bruce & dick & damian, 8.2k     All Tim wants is to take a shower, get something to eat, and try to wear off the effects of Ivy's stupid pollen in peace. So of course tonight is the night Jason decides to start acting like a brother.

BATFAM FIC RECS - I CUT MY TEETH ON DICK & TIM AS CLOSE BROTHERS AND NO ONE WILL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME: ✦ Red Letter Day by silverwhittlingknife, dick & tim & damian & cast, 41.8k wip     Dick Grayson, stressed pseudo-parent to a preteen assassin, tries to solve the case of Damian’s Mysterious Wednesday. He never expected it to help him fix his relationship with Tim, too. (... Though only after everything fell apart first.)

✦ I know it's just a number but you're the eighth wonder by orphan_account, dick & tim, 1.2k     Dick gets sick. Set before their lives implode on them, so Dick’s Nightwing and Tim’s still an itty bitty Robin.

✦ it's been a long time now (i'm with you) by centreoftheselights, dick & tim, 1.8k     Tim has been noticing some strange things about his life. He isn't the only one.

✦ Little Do You Know by sardonic_sprite, dick & tim & ra's, 2.2k     "So," Tim said quietly. "You're here to break me out I guess." "Yes," came out in a choked sob. "Then you're wasting your time."

✦ pain/release by unchosenone, dick & tim, 4k     Dick goes to check on a wayward brother in the middle of yet another Gotham Toxin (TM), and Tim has a bad time.

✦ I'd Fly Far Away From Here by Sohotthateveryonedied, dick & tim & jack, 3.5k     Tim stacks his fries onto his burger patty in a crosshatch, covering every spare inch in a layer of salty potato and grease. “It all happened kind of fast. Dad and I got into this huge fight, and it’s not very dignified to go back upstairs for my wallet and then storm out.” Dick is quiet while he eats his sandwich, trying to figure this out. “Dick?” “I’m just—trying to think if I should call Bruce first or your dad.”

✦ A Collective End to a Harmony by 061828, dick & tim, 1.2k     A drop of water falls into an ocean, a house’s wooden skeleton has its last nail screwed into place, an old book’s first page finally crumbles off, and Tim Drake turns twenty years old.

✦ young numb and broken by wingedgrace, dick & tim & cast, read the tags, 1.1k     His bare feet were covered in cold, damp sand, and he could barely feel them. Well, he could feel them, but they didn’t seem to be connected to his body. Or maybe it was him that wasn’t connected to his body. (or: poor Dick Grayson needs some love and a chance to catch his breath.)

✦ there's an endless road to rediscover by Zahri, dick & tim & cast, 1.2k     Sometimes the only way to show that you've moved on and forgiven each other is to take a flying tackle from the ceiling. Dick and Tim know each other's demonstrations of affection. Damian doesn't.

✦ spread your wings by wingedgrace, dick & tim & cast, 2.1k     “Why did you give Robin to Damian?” Dick pinched his nose. He’d started to pick up some of Batman’s habits, whether he realized it or not. “Tim, we’re not talking about this again. We’re talking about how you’re off on this… quest, to prove that Bruce is still alive. And I just want to talk. Come home.” Tim didn’t budge. “Why did you give Robin to Damian?”

BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK/BABS FOREVER AND YOU CAN SHUT IT IF YOU DISAGREE, THEY'RE ADORABLE TOGETHER: ✦ Taking Turns by mx_chrx99, dick/babs, 2.3k     Tim had practically begged Dick to get a flu shot. He probably should've listened.

✦ The Summer of Her Discontent by dotfic, dick/babs, 7.8k     Batgirl contends with her feelings after Dick leaves Gotham.

✦ Thirteen Hours by dotfic, dick/babs, 7.9k     Set during "Knight Time," during their trip to Romania, Dick and Babs start healing some old wounds.

✦ The Night the Lights Went out in Gotham by dotfic, dick/babs & bruce & tim & jim & cast, 13.8k     "When it comes to emotions, even great heroes can be idiotic."-from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

✦ Regular People by zombiesbecrazy, dick/babs, 1.6k     All sorts of people can enjoy a good sunrise over the city after a long night. Why should heroes of Gotham be any different?

✦ strawberry milkshakes by brandywine421, dick/babs & bruce, 2.8k     Why is Bruce bringing Dick? It's not an emergency alert, or medical - just an alert. She should have put in her comm - if it was a simple pit stop they had safehouses, but - Batman dangles Dick's keys in her direction at the door but she's glad he didn't come through the window. She looks past him to catch Dick's attention and - something's wrong.

BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE'S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ Stay for breakfast and also forever by Ididloveyou_once, tim/kon & bruce, 2k     Conner turns up in the middle of the night after a mission gone wrong. Tim learns that seeing Conner cry makes him feel like his heart has been torn out of his chest.

✦ Think Cupid, But Aim Lower by NevernightUnderRainbows, tim/kon & bruce & cassie & bart, 2.3k     Or, the Batfamily will make sure Tim gets his guy, even if it entails a lot of beating around the bush, dropping hints so veiled that they can be misconstrued surprisingly easily, and basically giving the bird and his clone boy a headache in the process

✦ The Once and Future Bat by LilliputianDuckling, tim/kon & some kon/cassie & dick & roy & martha & anita & cast, 16k     Tim realizes it was a mistake to clone Conner when he ends up with a baby on his hands at sixteen years old. Well, Jackie's his now. Where does he go from here?

✦ there you were by mindshelter, tim/kon & cassie & bart & martha, 19.5k wip     “You know, the cool thing about me,” Tim says, voice gone quiet and petal-soft, “is that even when I didn’t care whether I lived or not, I was pretty goddamn hard to kill.” Kon sighs, eyes glued to his feet. His hand is still encircled around Tim’s arm, trailing up to the bend of his elbow.

✦ time flies by by Laroyena, tim/kon & clark & jon & lex, 6.5k     Jon Kent is Superboy. Tim's gut instinct tells him that's wrong. (Timkon fix-it where reboot!Tim misses Kon like a phantom limb. And then he gets him back.)

✦ Tangled by thewhitestag, tim/kon, NSFW, 4.1k     Kon doesn’t want to be that person, always waiting, wondering if the next time will be more than just two friends messing around.

✦ you put your arms around me and i'm home by merils, tim/kon, 4.5k     Kon's acting a little odd after a close call. Tim ponders the potential causes.

BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ Bereft by glassofwater, dick & bruce & cast, 4.7k     Laying on his back, shoulder brushing up against debris, Dick closes his eyes briefly. He doesn’t want to die, has no intention to do so tonight, but he is scared. The blood on his side pumps out of him with each thump of his heart, beating at a rate too fast for Dick to properly count. That shouldn’t be right, he shouldn’t even be awake and struggling at the moment, but the luck that hangs over Gotham is a mysterious one; it doesn’t favor anyone and yet…

✦ fun and games by prismatical, bruce & dick & jason & tim & barbara & stephanie & duke & cast, 78.6k     The Joker's loose, and the Batman isn't in Gotham. The family struggles to hold itself together as everything else spins out of control.

✦ Bone Weary by TheSilencer, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & duke, 8.1k     "You cannot reach out until you reach in." Dick assumed the words were metaphorical. They weren't. Or Dick Grayson is cursed, and the cure is not any better.

✦ What These Hands Have Done by WinterSky101, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred & cast, 14k     Dick is mind controlled into attacking his family. Unsurprisingly, he takes the whole thing very badly.

✦ All The Small Things by Geeves, dick & bruce & damian & cast, 20.1k     After Bruce's return to the Bat, Dick and Damian have to deal with just being brothers, but things are just a bit too messy to be that easy

✦ All Our Broken Parts by mx_chrx99, bruce & dick & jason & dick/babs & cast, 28.1k wip     Jason will not let this happen again. He can't. But what if he's already too late?