#Tim quietly takes Steve aside after that and has A Talk with him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatsjasonfkntodd · 3 years

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Ashes to Ashes

Who: Dick Grayson, Alfred Pennyworth, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Damian Wayne, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon ( @amazingflyingdick @thebatsbutler @cassandraxxwayne @sonofabct @redrobin-timdrake @clickforspoilers @oraclestandingby ), Mentions: Bruce Wayne.

When: February 14th, after Dick returns to Wayne manor following the explosion at NOVA headquarters.

What: Dick delivers the news of Bruce’s death to the family.

Dick:

Dick made sure he didn't fall back asleep on the way back to the city. He'd never been so relieved to see it, untouched aside from an alarming amount of confetti. That meant everyone was safe. It didn't change what happened to Bruce, or how he would have to be the one to tell them, but he wasn't going to let his own emotions detract from what he had to do. It was his job to do it, even if he hadn't been the one there. He would have shouldered that burden for any of his brothers.

After repeatedly turning down medical attention, he left after giving Bucky or Steve Josh's information. His cell phone was a bust and asking to use the hospital phone seemed like an imposition at this level of chaos.

His motorcycle was already waiting at the curb. It took half the time as usual to get to the manor, but he'd run every red light and ignored basic traffic signs. There was no one out on the road anyway. The entire city seemed to be in a state of shock.

When he reached the manor, he put in the code and let himself in. His uniform was torn and his ear was still bloody, but that didn't have anything to do with the blast. He knew after this he'd also have to reach out to Erik and check on Wanda. There was so much to do and the sheer amount of it made him pause for just a second on the front stoop. Once he was inside, once they knew, then everything would be changed forever. He wanted ten more seconds like this.

Taking a deep breath, he finally disabled the last alarm and let himself inside.

Alfred:

Alfred had left Ms Barbra and Master Kord in the cave, taking a quiet moment to himself while he made tea; he’d experienced loss before… Master Thomas, Ms Martha, Master Jason. But this… This was a chasm within himself he’d been incapable of imagining. He’d tread the boards, played the grieving father more than once but and feigned backstory paled in comparison to the earth shattering numbness that pulled at him like the undertow of a stormy sea.

He had a pot of tea kept warm by the stove and a cup in front of him where he sat at the kitchen table, it was cooling now, going untouched. His wrinkled hands clasped in front of him while his head bowed down slightly. His eyes open, he gazed into the depth of the cup as though held a life-preserver to keep him afloat. In the end it was hearing the door of the manor open that forced him to move.

Rising woodenly to his feet, Alfred moved towards the doorway and at the sight of saw Master Dick the sea calmed, if only a little, the boy was alive. Wasting no time, he moved forwards and pulled the young man into his arms. His son was gone but Master Dick was here, he was safe. Master B- he would’ve wanted that. “Oh you beautiful boy, thank God you’re safe.” He held him close, uncaring about the bloodied mess his suit and self was, rubbing small circles into his broad back, feeling him warm and battered but solid and very much alive. He pulled back only slightly, framing Dick’s face in his hands and rubbed his thumbs over dirty cheeks.

“I know, my boy.” He told Dick quietly, “Myself and Ms Gordon both know what’s happened. Your brothers will be here soon and I will see to your injuries before we meet as a family to say what must be said.” He swallowed and pulled Dick close again, as much for the younger man as for himself.

Babs:

Babs had been sitting in the kitchen with Alfred, knuckles pressed to her mouth, but she hadn't said anything. There was nothing for either of them to say. All they could do was wait for Ted to find more information, or for the team to return. The possibility that they weren't going to return wasn't an option she was willing to entertain. Not right now. Not until she had to.

When she heard the door she looked up, but didn't move until she heard the tone in Alfred's voice. Immediately she wheeled out of the kitchen, her eyes wide, and when she saw it was Dick she could no longer hold back the tears. "You're okay." It was all she could say, because she could see the look on his face. She didn't need to ask where Bruce was.

She waited until Alfred let him go before hugging him too, her fingers twisting into his arm. "The others will be here soon. Everyone's okay. Everyone's safe. Just..." Swallowing hard, she shook her head.

Jason | Cass:

Everyone was coming in from opposite directions. Jason had left Airen to sleep off the rest of the fear gas and Donna to handle Superman. When all that was done, though, he still had to go to the manor - somewhere he didn’t want to be even on a normal day, let alone when everything was freshly screwed up. He pulled off his mask before letting himself in and tossed it down on one of the entryway tables. Tim ought to be close behind him, he figured, and at least he could count on Stephanie, Cass, and Damian being alright. He’d heard them over the comms.

Without much sense of what else to do, he headed toward the room they’d all ended up in the day Damian gave up the Robin title. It was one of the last times they’d all been in one place, an occurrence usually tied to something being wrong. That was the only time he showed up, if he could help it, with Dick’s birthday being the singular exception. Rather than sit, Jason paced and eventually came to a stop beneath one of the too-expensive paintings that Bruce bought just because a man of his status was supposed to have them. He kept his back to the door, and didn’t hear Cass come in behind him until she stood next to him, equally silent.

Steph:

"I hate this room," Steph grumbled. Her voice was still teary, even though she was doing her best to maintain some composure. How was this whole family so stoic? She couldn't seem to stop crying. The tears were constant, even when she angrily threw herself into a chair. "Someone's had to hear something by now. Where's Barbie? Where's Alf? Someone has to know. Just because Ted hasn't found out anything..." She was rambling and no one was going to know the answer, so eventually she talked herself into sniffling silence.

Jason | Cass:

Cass stepped away from Jason and went to Stephanie instead. She’d cried before, a few times, but her instinct in those moments tended to lean more toward focusing on what was going on with everyone else. In this case, it was Steph. She crouched down in front of the chair so that they were nearly level with each other, though she had to look up slightly, and reached to hug her. It was better than talking. It wasn’t as if she had any answers. They’d arrived there together, with Damian in tow, and knew no more then than they had standing at the docks.

Tim:

Tim had taken a longer route home than necessary. He had needed it. He needed to think. He wasn't about to walk into an emotionally charged situation without all his thoughts together.

Well, that had been the intention anway.

He was still just as scrambled as he pulled up the Manor, and he let his boots crunch the gravel as he made his way up the stairs and through the door. The thickness in the air hit him hard, but he didn't flinch. He had used this tactic before, when he'd lost Steph. Just shut it all down. Put it away. And his face was blank as he stepped into the room. Three members were missing: Dick, Alfred, and...

"Dick?" He asked Barbara directly. "Is he here?" She had blood on her outfit. Why did she have blood? Whose blood? Not hers.

Babs | Dick:

After Alfred took Dick off to get cleaned up, Babs did her best to pull herself together. Dick was alive. She hadn't asked about Bruce. It was something, but it was also the something she had to hold onto if she was going to face the others without giving away everything on her face.

She was just about to go into the den when she saw Tim, but she didn't have time to answer the question before Dick's reappearance answered it for her.

Alfred was insisting that Dick go to the hospital for X-Rays, because apparently skull fractures were serious, but he felt clearheaded enough. He could focus. There was no way he was going anywhere without seeing everyone. Leaving them in the dark just wasn't an option.

As soon as he got word of Tim's arrival, he was slipping away from Alfred and hurrying back to the room where they'd congregated. When he saw Babs and Tim just outside the door, he couldn't even bring himself to smile. "Let's go in." Dick's hand reached for Tim's shoulder and he squeezed it tightly, but then he was opening the door and leading the way.

Jason | Cass

As more than one set of footsteps approached, Jason finally turned away from the painting to see who came inside. He’d expected Tim, Babs, Alfred...The relief that he got from seeing Dick step through first was palpable. It flashed briefly across his face, just a crease in his forehead and a flex of the jaw. If Dick was there, was it wrong if some sliver of him thought he’d see the cowl and cape next? Obviously he’d heard the same scramble over the comms as Babs tried (and managed) to override the safety protocols before the whole place blew, he knew what it could mean, but there was still that part of him that waited.

When only Tim and Babs followed him, he shifted and bit back the half dozen remarks that popped into his head. You look like shit was at the top of the list, but Dick probably knew that already. The expression he wore said more than whatever was going to end up coming out of his mouth, but Jason wanted to get it over with. Rip off the bandage. “Go on, Dick.” The smart comments fell away.

Tim:

He registered the squeeze on his shoulder and he looked up at his older brother. There was that soft and muted rush of relief that Dick was here and that he was alive. It would have been stronger if he hadn't been holding it all back. Holding back everything. So he managed little more than fingers brushed over Dick's before he was making his way into the den. Turning to Jason, Tim swallowed before coming to stand beside him. He needed that 'fuck it' energy.

Looking over at Stephanie as he stood by Jason, Tim subtly extended his hand. She'd need him. He'd be solid for her even as Dick spoke.

Damian:

The world felt numb. Even as he made his way back from the docks alongside Cassandra and Stephanie, even as he tried to feel more relief that this Anton character was taking care of rescuing Lois and the Kryptonians, the world just felt numb. Damian stashed away the old Robin cycle, peeling of the duck tape and trashing it. He didn't speak to anyone and hardly bothered raising his gaze off the floor beneath them until the boys began filing in - and Dick finally stepped through the door. He was okay - he hadn't completely lost everyone, or so it had felt. He looked at Dick with every ounce of the pain he was drowning under visible in his eyes, but he kept himself distant from the family. There wasn't anyone else that walked through that door with him. He didn't see his father. They had been through this before - believing Bruce to be dead; it had been what started Dick and Damian's working so closely with one another to begin with, but this time it felt different. There was a weight to it that threatened to crush the teennager. Maybe it was everything that had happened in the last decade or so. Maybe it was how things had been left off between them in just the last year alone. Damian wasn't certain.

Alfred:

It was always difficult, getting someone under this roof to seek actually treatment for an injury, without his intervention he was convinced they'd all have died of some form of sepsis years ago. A skull fracture was a serious thing, but Master Dick was at least speaking sensibly. Alfred would keep a close eye on him and ensure x-rays were taken after this most difficult family conversation.

He let Master Dick move into the room and retreated for a moment into the kitchen. He gathered tea onto a small serving trolley and moved inside with it. He poured cups out of habit rather than anything else, fully expecting no one to drink them, and stood by the door, posture rigid and expression unreadable. "If you need to, Master Dick, I am quite capable of delivering this news."

Dick:

It was surreal to be standing in front of everyone like this. Dick's ears were still ringing, but the sound got louder once he was in the room and the heavy silence built. He knew he didn't have to tell them what happened. Just looking at them made it obvious that they already knew, or at least suspected it, and he was just there to confirm their worst fears. The words felt acrid on his tongue and he didn't want to say them, but he knew someone had to.

Someone had to and he didn't want to put Alfred in that position. He'd lost a father, but Alfred lost a son. There was something more terrible about that - parents weren't supposed to lose children - no matter how much he might have been prepared for the possibility. There was something indomitable about Bruce. Even when he'd "died" the first time, it hadn't felt entirely real. Dick hadn't allowed himself to feel that loss. There had been other things to worry about at the time, particularly Tim and Damian, and he'd put "dealing with Bruce's death" on the back burner. This time he felt the reality of it and it was oppressive. Smothering.

"It's okay, Alfred," he finally said, his voice betraying nothing he was feeling underneath the calm facade. It was the way he got when he was ready to take charge of a situation - efficient, calm, and even a little harsh if he had to be. This situation didn't call for that, but he wasn't going to draw out the moment longer than he had to. It wasn't until he met Damian's eyes that he felt some of his own control slip. He reached for him, his grip solid as he grasped his arm so Damian could feel someone else there while he delivered the news. "Bruce is dead."

He didn't avoid anyone's gaze, even though what reflected back at him was difficult to look at. They didn't deserve to have him look at the floor or be anything less than direct about everything that happened. "I'm sorry. There wasn't anything I could do." Even as he said it, it was something he didn't fully believe. He'd been the one on the mission with Bruce. Bruce had chosen him to be there and to help, entrusted him with the responsibility, and he hadn't even managed to bring Bruce back alive. He couldn't even bring back a body for his family because there wasn't anything left after the explosion. All they had was him, and he wasn't Batman. He'd never been able to fill those shoes.

But he didn't (and wouldn't) say what he was thinking.

It should have been me.

Jason | Cass:

Part of Jason wanted the details. He wanted the how. How was it that so many of them had gone on that mission, with that much power, and Bruce, out of all of them, had ended up dead? But at the same time, just this once, even he knew that it didn't matter. The specifics of it didn't change any of it. He couldn't argue with the end result, it didn't matter if it made any sense (and it didn't), which was infuriating in its own way.

He focused instead, albeit briefly, on something familiar. A finger that he could point. Joker had been behind what happened. They still had no fucking clue how he'd managed to do it, and maybe they'd never know, but he'd still done it. Bruce was dead, and at the end of the day...NOVA had built that bomb but the clown had set it off. Jason held onto that anger and let it wrap around him like a blanket, comforting and familiar. It was someone's fault.

That was for later. He'd go back to it. "We're all here on borrowed time," he said finally, though there was no callousness to it. Death was inevitable, and for all of them it would probably come early or had made a previous appearance. It was a reality he'd already faced. If he'd let himself linger on it, the news might have been surreal. He didn't. "Now what?" They had to move forward. Whether it was together or separate, he had no idea. They just had to do it.

As if there had not already been enough clues in place to guess, the way Dick held himself as he stood in front of them betrayed enough. The sudden straightening of shoulders, the way he raised his chin...none of it reached his eyes. It was for them, and not for him. He was already grieving and Cass could see it.

Still, the words made it more real, for once. Without realizing it, she'd covered her mouth with her hand. She was not the only one in that room to whom Bruce had given a family. He'd done it for all of them. Still, she couldn't replay those moments, only the ones that the two of them had shared. They rushed to her - Bruce giving her a gift and telling her that the day she became Batgirl could be her birthday, Bruce promising her that she would always have a place with them, Bruce sitting with her on the side of a riverbank, wet and exhausted from fighting, and letting her hug him after a lifetime of her actual father never allowing it.

A gasp slipped out between her fingers. It was nothing more than a quiet, "Oh."

Steph:

As soon as Tim extended his hand, Steph had taken it and stood pressed against his side. She tried to tell herself that Dick was going to say something else, anything else, because there was just no way Bruce could be dead. Not for real real.

But then the words were out in the air and she blinked, sucking in a tight breath. Her grip on Tim's hand tightened to be almost painful.

She was already crying when she snapped at Jason, her voice thick with anger and grief. "What do you think? We get the stupid fucking clowns." He was the one who was responsible for this.

Alfred:

Alfred locked eyes with Dick before he spoke, proud of the courage the young man displayed, determined to take yet another burden onto his already overladen shoulders. He remained quiet as the news was delivered, grateful in some selfish way for the alarm which had informed him of the grave event earlier that evening.

His son was dead.

The little boy who'd loved Zorro, who'd begged Alfred to teach him how to fence. The broken boy at the police station who's life had been torn apart and set on a new path all thanks to one man and a gun. The quiet boy who cried against him as his parents were laid to their final rest. The pensive teenager who decided to change the world. The steadfast young man who fought for a city that gave him nothing in return. The man who took in a child so much like himself and grew to be a caring guardian. The father who'd put his children first and mourned their losses as though they were his own. The man who'd celebrated father's day not only for his children, but for him as well.

His son.

Alfred's expression remained unreadable as he quietly spoke from the doorway. "Master Bruce prepared me some time ago for this possibility. I am the named executor of his will and shall begin preparing funeral arrangements and press releases in the morning. Master Bruce's deeds will be known by the world and he shall be mourned as a hero should be, though our own ceremony will be a great deal more subdued." He paused to swallow, the only sign speaking was difficult, "If I may make one small request of you all and ask no one goes out again tonight. For just this one evening I would like what remains of my family to be safely under this roof."

Tim:

Tim stiffened. He listened to everyone, observed everything in a cool and detached way. Jason with his anger, Dick with his guilt, Steph with her vengeance. The news passed like a ripple, creating reaction after reaction and tightening the tension in the room until it all hummed like the drone of a thousand mosquitoes. He was there but he was not feeling. He was not feeling and reacting. He was thinking. How could this have happened? That was the first question he had asked. But Tim had quickly discarded it. Not the past. The past wasn't the take away and it would solve any puzzles.

The question wasn't 'how could this have happened?'. It wasn't 'who's to blame'. That may provide comfort to Stephanie and Jason, but it still solved no puzzles. It still fixed nothing. Bruce was dead. Bruce was dead and that meant that their lives were irrevocably changed. It meant that there were going to be massive gaps to be filled, and wouldn't Bruce want them to worry about that first? Before they mourned. Or even because they mourned. Batman was their symbol. All of their alia and everything they were stemmed from one man being that persistent. That determined. So determined that he became pervasive. They needed to worry about the fact that Bruce was gone but Batman's legacy was... them. What were they going to do about that?

In the quiet of his mind, in the darkest hours of the mourning when everyone else had finally gone to sleep and it was safe to, Tim would grieve. And he would try to process through that grief as best as he could because, even if they denied it or pushed forward, they were going to need someone who could take that support role. Tim could do that. He needed to do that. For so long he had been feeling as if there was a disconnect between him and his family. He couldn't lose anymore of them. He'd lost Steph. He'd lost his parents. And now he'd lost Bruce. He wasn't doing anymore. They needed a plan. They needed a way forward. He would grieve later. For now he asked: "What about Batman?" The funeral was for Bruce. "What are we going to do about Batman and us?" Batman needed a Robin. He had said that so many years ago. But now this stood a room full of Robins with no Batman to need them. They may have all grown into their own identities or started to, but he was intrinsic to all of them.

Looking to his brothers, his grey eyes betrayed the pain he was holding off as he waited, expectant. "He's part of us."

Damian:

There were the words, as if he needed to hear them to know the truth of it all. Bruce Wayne hadn't walked through that doorway with Dick. He had seen it in the man's eyes, felt it in the tight grip on his arm. Bruce Wayne would not be coming home. His father would not be walking through those doors after being delayed. Damian felt as if the air had left the room. His chest hurt and burned with each breath he took. His eyes felt the salty sting of his building tears. The man that had taken him in so suddenly; the man that had time and time again tried to keep him on the correct path through life. The man that had forced him to learn humility from mundane public schooling; forced him to learn the nuances of navigating high society and its lowest of lows both. The man that had sat through all the hateful and venomous things Damian had spoken over the years, was gone.

"I hate this fucking city..." His words were a weak tremble.

Damian's fists balled tightly at his sides. He didn't get to say goodbye. He didn't even work up the courage to speak with him after the city headquarters bombing. There were so many 'never got to's' that bombarded the teenager. He felt Stephanie's rage as clearly as he felt his own - the same unbridled fury he had felt when Dick was injured. He felt it, but only his father's voice echoed in his ears. It wouldn't change anything. That isn't the way to handle this. He felt sick. He felt dizzy. A voice within him cried out - his own, but younger; insecure and vulnerable. He wanted his father. He wanted his mother. He wanted anyone that could make the pain go away... and before he knew it he was holding onto Dick with a death grip and burying his face against his chest. Fix it, Dick. His thoughts cried. Tim, think of something. Jason, find out who needed to be hurt. Stephanie. Cassandra. Alfred. Someone. Instead, his voice left him - replaced only with an uncontrollable flood. Tim's words did little stem the tide, true as they were.

Dick:

The reactions were expected. Dick knew his family and he knew them well. It didn't make them any easier to bear. Underneath all the anger and cold efficiency, they were grieving. It would never look the same, because they were so different, but they'd also been trained by the same man. There were similarities in how they operated that were curbed by Bruce's lessons. Some less than others, but he could see Bruce's influence in every single one of them. The fact that they were all so different was what made them great. Not having Batman didn't change that - it just took away their safety net.

Jason's question and Steph's outburst made him frown, but he didn't say anything. Not yet. Without Bruce, Dick knew he would have to provide some of the answers and the reassurances that they needed to hear. It was a role that came easily to him, as naturally as it was to comfort Damian and offer that steady support that he needed. Alfred wanted them all to stay, but he knew he would have to go out at least one more time that night. He would speak to him about it later. There were other things to focus on, more pressing things, and Dick already knew the decision he was facing. He knew Tim was right. And maybe no one would ask him to do it, but who else was going to? He didn't expect anyone else to take on the burden that Bruce shouldered.

"I'll help you, Alfred." The press was going to be difficult to handle, but they had to manage the situation. "We'll get them," he said to Steph, firmly, because he knew she needed to hear it. Jason and Tim's questions were harder to answer, because even though he knew what he had to do, it was something he dreaded doing again. He had to bite his tongue against words that sounded too much like Bruce, Let me worry about that. It wasn't a good way to start this new chapter. They needed him to be collaborative, not isolating. "You're right, Tim. And we'll talk about what's next, but not tonight. This city needs us and it needs Batman, I'll never disagree with that, but the city can give us one night." Maybe Dick would encourage business as usual for himself, but he wasn't going to send out marching orders to the rest of his family on the heels of delivering news like that. They could revisit the subject tomorrow with clearer minds. He needed to think. It didn't help that his own head was pounding in spite of the Tylenol he'd taken, either. Dick's grip on Damian tightened, his hand making circles against his back, but his voice remained calm and even. "What happens next is ultimately going to be a group decision, but... for now I agree with Alfred. No one goes on patrol tonight. We'll move forward together, on the same page, or not at all. Bruce fought and died for this city, but I know he tried to put us first when he could. We matter more, and I think it's important for us to remember that."

Jason | Cass:

The manor was always the last place that he wanted to be, and that included right then, but he couldn’t turn down Alfred’s request. Rarely did Jason make things easier on people, or so it was often said, but he’d do it for Alfred. “We’ll stay,” he agreed, answering for all of them and assuming they lacked either the desire or sheer audacity to say otherwise.

Steph’s reply only earned a small raise of one shoulder. “Obviously. I was asking about a funeral.” Of course they were going to get the fucking clowns. He still wasn’t over Joker just disappearing right beneath their noses in that warehouse. But for that exact moment, he’d been talking about something else. “We’re doing it in Gotham, right?” They had to. Fuck Star City. Star City hadn’t made Batman or Bruce Wayne. All it had done was kill him. The irony of that almost made him laugh. Who survived Gotham fucking City and went off to die in sunny California?

Damian’s sudden break made him look away. Heat rolled over his skin and settled in the back of his neck. “I think Star City can kiss our collective ass for the night. It’s got enough out of us for a few hours.” But he didn’t want to stand there and do nothing either. Not remotely. He didn’t want to watch Damian or Steph cry, and he didn’t want to see Cass barely keeping from it.

“Al, how about we skip the tea and break into that wine collection Bruce just got for show?”

Cass wrapped her arms around herself and finally sat down on the couch closest behind her. Let the others talk. Bruce had given all of them family, a purpose, and each other. It had never been Batman that mattered - it was the symbol that counted. They could still carry that, even without him. It would ever look the same, but it could mean the same.

Alfred:

“That won’t be necessary, Master Dick.” Alfred quietly replied, “I am quite capable of heading that unpleasant business. I believe your time and energy would be better put to use, as Master Timothy pointed out, focusing on the next steps to take regarding The Bat.” He didn’t want any of them to be involved in the sordid and no-doubt prying eyes of the media upon this. They would swarm like crows to a corpse… His son’s corpse, God. No. This was his duty, he was the retainer of the Wayne family and it was his burden to bear. “Indeed, Maser Jason. I shall make arrangements for the funeral to take place in Gotham and Master Bruce will be put to rest beside his dear parents.” That was what he would want, Alfred was certain. “While I suspect several of you are thinking along the same lines, I would like to say something.”

He took a step further into the room and surveyed them all, from stoic endurance to quiet crying to anger. “This crusade was begun by Master Bruce, it was his cross. However, this team, this family, is more than Batman. It will endure beyond him. And no one need take up a mantle they do not feel comfortable donning. The last thing Master Bruce would ever want would be for Batman to haunt you in such a fashion. Regardless of any choices made, his symbol shall remain absolute.” His voice was quiet but completely certain. “I should also like to take this opportunity to inform reaffirm that he was proud of all of you. He never ceased to be continually impressed by all you could do. And…” His voice shook, only slightly and he took a moment to compose himself, “Master Bruce loved you all very much. It was not his strength to verbalise such things but, in my humble expertise, I know he truly loved you all.”

“And, to honour that love, that care, I must insist we do nothing rash in coming days despite how satisfaction may demand it.” His hands were clasped tightly behind his back, his posture ramrod straight. Yes he felt anger, his hands itched for his gun, to put an end to the monster behind this once and for all, the beast who’d taken so much from his family. Hurt them so deeply. “That time shall come. But, for now we must honour the past, mourn the present, and plan for the future.” He turned back to Jason, “I believe this once such an action might be prudent, Sir. I shall collect a few bottles.” Alfred stepped quietly from the room.

Steph:

Steph had been about to snap something back at Dick that they couldn't just sit there after someone murdered Bruce, even though she knew, at least deep down, that running out and trying to do some sort of smack down tonight was not something anyone in the room would be on board with. Jason would have been the only one willing to act immediately, but even he seemed to know it wasn't a good idea. That didn't mean she had to be happy about it.

It was Alfred's speech that made her burst into tears that made her whole body shake. She turned and threw her arms around Tim's neck, burying her face in his shoulder, and tried to pretend that they were the only two people in the room. "I want tequila," she managed to wail after Alfred, her fingers twisting in Tim's shirt.

Damian:

Damian was bound to Dick even as Jason and Steph spoke up. The man's soft back rubs slowly calmed his tears, but it wasn't until Alfred began speaking at length that Damian finally pulled away and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his sweater. He hadn't even remembered he was still wearing the utility belt around his casual attire. It didn't matter right now. "I..." He started, but had to swallow and whet his dried out throat. "I don't know if anyone should take his mantle... we have all grown on our own paths, I don't think any of us are really shaped specifically to be the next Bat..." He expressed. When Alfred agreed to grab a few bottles of alcohol instead of brewing up some tea, Damian folded his arms against himself similar to how Cassandra held herself. "I... want to be alone..." He finally stated, but looked at Dick for the approval to do so. "I just... I don't want to be here. I can't..."

Tim:

Tim nodded at Damian's words. He felt the same. He didn't want to tell Alfred no. He didn't want to hurt him anymore than he was, but he also... desperately wanted to be alone. He needed it. Tim wasn't the kind to share his emotions outwardly and he wasn't sure, if he started, he'd be able to stop. He needed to be able to. Because life was going to keep on coming. Tim needed to be alone to process his emotions, the ones that he was holding at bay right now. Still, Stephanie was crying into his shirt, and he was trying to be present for them when it felt so against his nature. Already he was trying to figure out where the system had failed, what holes in it that they were going to need to fill. Ten thousand different possibilities flowed through his mind and he just kept trying to push away how badly his chest hurt. How much it was making him ache.

"I'm stepping out for air," he said quietly to Steph. "I'll... I just need a second." Catching her chin, he pressed a gentle kiss to her wet cheek, hoping she would understand that this was hitting him like bricks and the urge to just dissociate from his body so he didn't have to acknowledge how it would feel if he let it was so strong. He had to get it back under control.

Dick:

It was difficult to keep stoic when everything in him wanted to react just listening to Alfred speak. It made him think about when Bruce had come to his apartment, shortly after the disastrous dinner party, and stated on no uncertain terms that he was proud of him. He knew there would be moments when he'd have to pit that memory against his self-doubt and self-criticism.

Still, Dick was put together. "Thank you, Alfred." He didn't crack easily under pressure. Right now they needed each other, desperately needed each other, and he wanted everyone to have time to grieve. That being said, he also knew everyone grieved differently. He expected most of them would want to be alone, so it hardly came as any surprise when both Damian and Tim immediately requested it. Nodding, his hand dropped to the side of Damian's arm. "On the condition that you stay inside the manor and let me check in. Okay?" Alfred had asked them to stay together. It didn't mean they had to be in the same room (though he would prefer it). The manor was big enough. He just didn't want Damian taking off or to be left on his own for too long.

Tim also worried him. Dick remembered how he'd been the last time, and he was frightened at the idea of his brother spiraling back into that desperation. Dick knew Tim would take this hard, maybe harder than any of them, because his relationship with Bruce had been more of a kinship.

Even though he wanted to immediately go after him, Dick didn't want to disrespect Tim's request for space. He waited a few minutes, intending to have exactly zero drinks, and then excused himself to go seek him out.

Steph:

Steph knew Tim and she knew how difficult her crying on him would be, especially when he was no doubt struggling, and she sniffled when he said he was stepping out for air. "Okay," she said quietly, watching both him and Damian leave with a small, worried frown.

Wiping her eyes, she sat down on the couch next to Cass and reached for her hand. Once Dick left too she sighed and gave Jason a look, frowning. "Let me guess, you're next?" She looked at Cass and gave a small, watery huff. "Is no one in this family capable of emoting right?" Maybe she wasn't one to talk. All she wanted to do was punch something. "Hey Todd, want me to show you the move I taught my self-defense class yesterday?" This was probably the next best thing to punching something.

Jason | Cass:

As Steph sat down next to her, Cass leaned far enough to put her head against the other's shoulder and just sat there. "No," she said without any hesitation. She wasn't sure what the 'right' way to do it was, but assumed that none of them probably managed it.

Jason, for his part, stayed with the two of them. He sat down on Steph's other side and let out a loud sigh before resting his head against the back of the couch. Maybe he ought to go after Damian, or Tim and Dick, or just fuck off somewhere else entirely, but right then he just didn't want to. Steph was angry, and Cass was as much his sister as the rest of them were his brothers, so he'd stay with them. "Let me get drunk first. Then you might stand a chance of pulling it off."

#ashes to ashes; discord #ch: dick #ch: alfred #ch: damian #ch: tim #ch: steph #ch: babs #ch: cass

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floosies · 4 years

Text

Series: La Munenca del Barrio

Warnings: NSFW, Blood, violence, smut, strong language, and drug use

Rocio Cruz lives in a Brooklyn block best known for its vibrant and ignored community. What she always ignored though was the underground scene in the borough, the evils that lay in it and its people. That all comes to an end when she’s introduced to those things she ignored.

Chapter 8: Coronao Now

Series Masterlist

It’d been over a month since the incident, Rocio’s face was better now but she’d gained a small cut by her right eyebrow. Steve swore he liked it though, he said it made her look tough. With her now living at both his homes, she’d became more subjected to meeting people in the crime world. One of which was a nice girl who’d worked for Steve for years. She’d began teaching Rocio how to shoot, when they spent time together. It was a nice way to let out pent up anger and learning a skill she’d never think of having. On one of the shooting lessons, Nat gifted Rocio a kimber classic carry elite, to say that she was shocked was an understatement, “thank’s Nat, it’s pretty.” She admired the gun for a moment before Nat broke her out of the trance, “better hide it away well, remember Steve has no idea about this Careful with it too, it’s got the safety on but it’s still loaded.” She nodded carefully placing in it her purse.

Another person who Rocio had the ‘pleasure’ to get to know better was Bucky. Turns out he was more than just snorting snow. He was the business guy, as he explained one night at dinner, “see Steve is mostly morals and muscle. Me though, I’m the guy with the wits.” Rubio just rolled his eyes at the comments his brother was saying. Anyways, that led to a bargain scheme. Bucky made a good ‘business deal’ in California with some new kid who was supposed to be taking over his uncle.

Long story short, he wanted Steve to go with him as a back up in case the deal got dicey. Apparently, the kid was known to be both a playboy and an asshole, so it was better not to take a risk. Of course, the fucking trial was in a week. However, Barnes made it a big deal that they would only be on the west coast for the weekend. Rubio being Rubio though, he was not going to leave his munenca alone in Brooklyn while her mom might still wanna take another swing at her.

So now Rocio was packing for warmer weather. She wasn’t even concerned about the whole thing. Her mind was drifting to her siblings who she’d seen a couple of times now through this whole thing. They knew about their dad coming home soon, and they were excited. Marco even smiled at the idea which made Rocio feel better. Her fear about him hating the world wasn’t going to be entirely true. It did break her heart a bit when he admitted to seeing what their mom did to her.

She didn’t notice that her eyes were beginning to swell up with tears. She didn’t even notice Steve coming into the room, “que tienes munenca?” His voice was gentle, as he pulled her body into a tight hug. Trying as best to compose herself she shook her head, “nothing. estoy bien. I was just umm...thinking about my siblings and the whole trial thing again.” She responded, he nodded. “Listen, this is probably a good thing then. Us going away for a bit, it’ll be a mini vacation.” His reasoning was solid for the most part. He wished he could do more like guarantee her that everything was gonna be solved but hell even his own victories came at some expense.

They met Barnes on the jet. The thing about him that was interesting to Rocio was that he was dating Nat. It was interesting because she was Russian, so they were just known as that around where she grew up, los rusos. People were terrified of them because they got the messy work done. Knowing him now, she realized he was actually very nice. It was odd but it kept her mind busy instead of thinking about the fact that she was on a flying death machine.

It was around three in the afternoon when they got to the beach house in California. Exploring around the grounds they finally reached their room, “listen guys there’s gonna be a party we’ve gotta attend tonight.” Bucky saw Steve’s eye roll, “i’ll make it up to ya pal, it’s just a little welcoming party it’ll be fine.” It was not a little welcoming party. It was a mansion party that led to a private beach.

Steve’s grip around Rocio’s waist got tighter, “I don’t want you to go too far from me munenca.” The place was like a fuckin night club, they were led to a table by on the second floor of the mansion. There Bucky and some kid waited for the pair, “guys this Tim, he’s the ‘investor’ for the business deal here. His uncle owns the state practically,” the whole time he was talking the guy’s eyes were practically undressing Rocio. She rolled her eyes, to most of these guys she was practically a toy.

Tim cut him off eventually, “thank you very much for that introduction but I think your friends here are very bored.” He went to shake Steve’s hand, “Steve Rogers, a very well known name around here and you must be Rocio Cruz, your dad’s name is legend, loyalty is hard to come by today.” He said kissing the back of her hand. He wasn’t ugly or anything but she knew Steve would be mad as hell now. Tim’s eyes were still wandering on her, “if you need anything let my men know, there are drinks going around too. Please, enjoy yourselves and welcome to California.” He left after that, Steve looked over at his girl, annoyance and jealousy very clearly on his face.

From where they sat, they had a good view of the dance floor downstairs. That’s when she recognized a familiar face, it was Wanda. The two had met briefly once before. Her husband Vis, was both an informant and consultant for Steve. The two made eye contact, Rocio waved for her to come upstairs. They hugged as soon as they were next to each other, “what are you doing here?” She asked Rocio, “business trip.” Wanda nodded, “hey Steve, could I take her for a bit?” He looked over at her, she had those big doll eyes, sighing he agreed.

He watched from upstairs as they started dancing to some fast paced song. Bucky had a cigar now, another thank you gift from Tim, “wanna go have some fun downstairs?” Steve shrugged, “why not.” It’d been such a long time since Rocio had been to a club or even danced, she was thankful for Wanda in this moment. It was hot on the dance floor but drinks were being given and pretty soon the alcohol was making her forget the sweat that was forming on her body. She felt hands on her waist turning her head around she saw Steve, “you’re a tease munenca, mejor nos vamos?” She giggled continuing to dance, her hips now grinding against him. Wanda winked at her, as she danced with Bucky. Another quirk, two words. Open. Relationships. Sure the two had significant others but that didn’t matter. Steve wasn’t like that at all though, and Rocio was relieved for that.

Who would’ve thought that boring Steve would be a good dancer but he was. It was getting intense and the hazy look of lust was in their eyes. “Wanda could you come with me to the bathroom?” She looked at Steve then, “we can leave after.” He nodded his eyes still fully blown, he kissed her before she headed off. The girls were giggling messes as they went to the restroom, “so you’re gonna get with Barnes tonight?” She asked her as they fixed themselves up a bit. “Maybe, why not. He looks good tonight,” Rocio shook her head, “traviesa.” They walked back out, and what a coincidence, Tim was just about to enter when they exited.

His smug smile made her annoyed, “ladies. Would either of you like to play in a little snow?” Wanda answered before Rocio could, “no we’re actually heading out.” He nodded, “in that case, could I talk to Cruz for a moment?” She looked over at Rocio who looked confused, “about?” He still had that stupid smile on his face, “nothing bad, I promise.” It was better not to piss him off, she assumed, “Wanda wait here?” The girl nodded as the two walked off a bit out of hearing range from where she was waiting.

She waited for him to speak, “so Rogers calls you munenca? That’s a doll right?” What a bunch of bullshit, “is that why you pulled me aside? So you could try to hit on me?” Maybe it was the liquor but she was not in the mood, she started to walk away. His hand gripped her wrist, “I wanted to say that with everything going on, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to have a back up plan. Trust me that old man won’t be there forever. That old money is nothing compared for what I have here. Also, if I wanted to I already would’ve fucked you.” The only thing that could be heard was the sound of the slap she gave him. “You’re disgusting.” She started walking away, “trust me you’ll be begging me soon.” She rolled her eyes still walking, “tu no entiendes? Fuck you.” Wanda could see the anger basically giving off on her.

The car ride was quiet, Bucky didn’t care though he was still trying to get his night’s worth. Steve was about to ask her what happened when she said quietly, “en la casa.” So he waited til they got to the house. The deviants left quickly to Barnes’ room while Rocio and Steve stayed downstairs for a bit. He heard the whole story, she was concerned with how calm he was until he stood up from his seat, “I’m going to kill him.” She shot up, “remember Bucky has business with him.” He looked at her, “munenca you’re right but he’s still going to die. I’m still going to kill him,” his voice was so calm. So much for a getaway

#mob!steve #mob!bucky #mob!au #steve rogers #Chris Evans #sebastian stan #bucky #bucky barnes #mcu #mcuedit

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onewaywardwitch · 5 years

Text

Just A Typo (6/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Hacker!Reader

Summary: It was a simple challenge between a very competitive group of friends. A challenge that ended very differently than anticipated.

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2275

A/N: I’m so happy to finally get to post this part! I’ve been most excited for this one. Thanks for all the love on the previous parts, enjoy part 6!

If someone had told me a month ago that I'd be spending my days working as the security analyst for Stark Industries and my nights chatting with the Avengers, I'd have asked how much they had to drink. It's amazing how an illegal act can completely turn your life around, and not in the ‘sent to prison’ sense.

Fortunately for me, Wanda took me under her wing. She was determined to have another female presence around in a tower overflowing with testosterone and I wasn’t complaining. I appreciated her company just as much as she did.

Everyone was far more welcoming. Well, almost everyone. Natasha still seemed adamant on ignoring me. But with Sam constantly joking around with me, it was easier to forget about it. I had become a common visitor of the residents upstairs and I loved getting to know their actual personalities rather than the superhero personas the world had grown so used to seeing. Like how Tony won’t speak to anyone before his morning coffee. Or how Bruce has to be brought food throughout the day, or else he would simply forget to eat.

But Bucky remained an enigma that I couldn’t crack.

It wasn’t that we didn’t spend time together. We did. And many times, I enjoyed being near him more than some of the louder Avengers. We were never hanging out alone, though. He was a lot quieter when I was around, but I didn’t take it personally. He was obviously still a bit nervous being around anyone other than his teammates, but I liked to think that I was growing on him. At least he sat down and talked to me with everyone else now, instead of just running out of the room. And I adored having more than just two friends. The top floor had quickly become a second home to me.

~~~~~

I ran my hand through my hair for what felt like the seventh time in five minutes. For some reason, the system I was planning on installing for Stark Industries was not cooperating with me. I was forced to keep changing around the algorithm and every new sequence was rejected, not working in the slightest. It didn’t help that I had already gone through a full pack of Haribo and had none left. Timothy, one of my co-workers with a strange love for the worst movies ever made, kept glancing at me every time I let out a frustrated groan. Whenever he looked over, he opened his mouth as if to ask me something, before closing it again. It didn’t take long for me to snap.

“If you’ve got something to say spit it out. You look like a fish doing that.” I should have felt bad for snapping at him. He was a nice enough person, and I had been informed by the secretary down the hall that he harboured a small crush for me. Unfortunately for him, I was prepared to pick a fight with anyone. He just happened to be on the receiving end of it.

“I, um, I was just wondering if you... if you needed a hand with whatever you're working on?” he asked me, nervously wringing his hands.

I stared blankly at him. My lack of response caused his expression to change from slightly hopeful yet nervous, to absolutely terrified.

Stop it, don’t be a bitch, he’s just being nice. You can do this, politely decline his offer. There's no need to make a scene.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Well, that didn’t work.

“Am I not capable of doing it myself now, huh? I can do it perfectly fine. The system is stupid, that’s all. I don’t need your help because you'll end up pissing me off even more than you already have.”

Wow, ok, enough. Close your mouth. Bite your tongue. Walk away. Do anything other than talking to him.

“And also, you are literally the only person in the world who actually likes ‘Sharknado’.”

Why? Why would you say that? You absolute idiot.

I turned back to the computer that I was incredibly close to smashing as I ignored Tim’s deflated expression. He moved back to continue on with whatever he was working on himself. I typed in new lines of code on my screen, praying that these would work. While I waited for the outcome, I started to feel a bit guilty. I was stressed about my job that I was really desperate not to lose and I was taking it out on whoever was closest to me, which just so happened to be Tim.

“Oh shit!”

The second I turned to apologise, I felt hand on my shoulder, scaring the absolute crap out of me.

“Sorry! I called your name and you didn’t answer. You looked deep in thought,” Bucky said uncertainly. I instantly relaxed in his presence and chuckled.

“It's ok, my fault anyway. I should have been paying attention to what was going on around me. It just gets interesting up here sometimes,” I tapped my head as I spoke.

Great, now he thinks you're a lunatic.

Bucky offered me a small smile, which I had come to expect from him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Tim. I tried to ignore him. I really did. When he first saw Bucky come over to me his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. That look of awe turned to one of amusement when he saw me make a complete fool out of myself. I stared pointedly at him until he got the message and returned to his computer. Bucky raised his eyebrows at me, and I shook my head in reply.

So much for Tim’s apology.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Um, Tony sent me to get you. He wanted to talk to you about, er… something computer related, I think.”

“He could have called me, you know. You didn’t have to come all the way down here.”

“He wanted me to get you in person. Plus, I had to talk to someone down in communications anyway.”

I nodded and got up to leave with Bucky, completely forgetting about the system that had me wound up only minutes ago.

~~~~~

Why does elevator music always make everything so uncomfortable and awkward? I was desperately searching for a way to fill the silence but for once in my life my mind was blank. I heard Bucky mumble something, seemingly to himself. I brushed it off before he spoke up more confidently.

“I like your jumper.”

I swear, I had never turned red so quickly. It felt like my whole face was on fire. How did everything he say make me feel so giddy?

“Thanks! But it's actually my friend, Angie’s. She left it at my apartment a few days ago and I haven’t had a chance to return it yet. I don’t know why I said that, it's a lie. She forgot it at mine over a year ago and I really like it.” I didn’t think I could blush any harder. I was wrong.

“You're really close with your two friends, huh?” Bucky questioned. I relaxed quickly. I always found it easier to talk about anything that wasn’t about me directly.

“They're complete idiots, but I love them. They're my family. I'd be lost without them. I mean, Becca’s good fun and Angie is our designated babysitter most of the time.”

He let out a low laugh. “I guess I know how she feels. I'm always running around after Steve, trying to make sure he doesn’t get himself killed.”

“Really?”

Bucky also seemed more at ease with the direction the conversation had taken. “It was worse back in the 40’s though. He was picking fights left, right, and centre. There was no super soldier serum to help him back then. He was just a kid with good intentions and twig-like arms.”

The ding of the elevator interrupted our chat. We stepped out, but I paused before we walked any further. Bucky turned to question me, and I stared open-mouthed at him.

“God, I was such a bitch to Tim!” I exclaimed suddenly, Bucky looking at me in surprise. “He was just trying to help me, and I-.“ I couldn’t even finish my sentence as I was overcome by fit of giggles. “I told him that nobody likes ‘Sharknado’ except for him!”

“Shark what?”

“Have you never heard of ‘Sharknado’? We have to watch it! It's a terrible film.”

“If it's so bad why do I have to watch it?”

“Because, it's a good bad movie. You watch it knowing it's going to be terrible and then you just give out about it afterwards. The full 21st century experience,” I explained to a very perplexed superhero. “Let’s go, best not to leave his royal highness waiting.”

~~~~~

Turns out Tony had summoned me to ask a single question about my work, before requesting advice on the nicest cafés in the area to bring Pepper to. We spent nearly an hour arguing over which is nicer, pancakes or waffles. He refused to accept the fact that pancakes are clearly superior and resorted to folding his arms and huffing like a child.

I finally made a move to leave when Tony told me he had some Avengers business to attend to.

“Next time you want a chat,” I said to him as I put on my jacket,” just give me a call. You didn’t need to send poor Bucky all the way down to me. He probably has better things to be doing.”

Tony snorted. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? He volunteered to get you. The second I mentioned I needed to talk to you, he all but ran off to find you.”

I scoffed and chose to ignore what Tony had said. “Bye, Mario!” I yelled back to him, making sure to close the door on his sounds of annoyance.

~~~~~

Some people can sense bad things just before it happens. Hairs standing on the back of your neck, chills down your spine. Some sort of sixth sense, I guess. Unfortunately, I wasn’t one of those people.

I was sitting in my empty, broken bathtub with my laptop, as you do, when I heard the crash. My head shot up immediately, staring at my bathroom door that I had left slightly ajar.

“It's nothing, you're imagining things.” I tried to convince myself I was hearing things until I heard what I assumed was one of my mugs crashing to the ground.

I could feel my heart thumping in my chest, and I willed myself to calm down. Placing my laptop carefully aside as quietly as I possibly could, I crawled out of the bath and creeped my way towards the door.

I peered my head out, nervously chewing on my lower lip. It was only a matter of seconds before I gasped and closed the door in panic. I made sure to do so silently and I held a hand over my mouth to control the ragged breaths that I could no longer control.

With shaking hands, I locked the door and took out my phone that felt stuck in my pocket. My only focus was calling the first person that popped into my head.

“Come on, come on,” I muttered, begging for a small ounce of luck.

“Miss me already?”

I sighed in relief. “Tony, there’re people in my apartment. Can you- can you send someone over please. I'm kind of panicking.”

There was a momentary pause and a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the phone before-

“Y/N listen to me. You need to get out of there right now. We’ll be there as fast as we can. Can you get to your front door?”

“I can’t, they’ll see me.”

“Shit,” I heard Tony breath out. “Alright, odds are they’re looking for your laptop so hang tight, hopefully they won’t be looking for you.

I groaned internally and stared at my laptop that I had forgotten about in the bath. Just my luck.

“Yeah, that’s not going to work. My laptop is with me.”

“You bring your laptop to the bathroom?”

“Some people bring their phones, I bring my laptop. Stop judging me.”

Tony decided to ignore my last comment, instead informing me that they were on their way. He asked if I could still hear the people in my apartment.

“Um, no, I don’t think I- “

The bang on the bathroom door made me jump and I clutched the phone tighter. I covered my mouth with my hand, willing myself to stop shaking. A second bang, and I took a few steps backwards slowly. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the door that I knew wouldn’t withstand much more. It took me a few seconds to realise that Tony had been shouting my name.

“Tony,” I whispered,” please tell me you’re nearby.”

I could hear him talking to someone else, his impatient tone not doing anything to reassure me.

“Still 10 minutes out, kid.”

Before Tony could even finish his sentence, the door came crashing down. I screamed, trying to shield my eyes from the splintered wood.

A man dressed entirely in black tactical gear made a move to grab me, and I dropped my phone in a panic.

“TONY!” I screamed. My attempt to remove myself from his grip was futile. He had grabbed my body and dragged me to where the rest of his team were waiting in my now destroyed kitchen. I was so distracted that I didn’t notice the fist that flew towards my face before everything went black.

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