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#and bruce already lost a son and there's truly nothing that can heal that. yes jason is here. but when bruce buried him
bruciemilf · 10 months
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I think an underappreciated motive for Bruce / Batman to not murder the Joker after he killed Jason is that it would, in a sense, mean Joker won. Like, yeah the Joker would be dead but he would also be laughing himself silly that he was the one who made the Bat break his code.
Bruce sparing the Joker was not because he didn't love Jason enough to kill him, but because he refused to let the Joker take anything else from him; he took his son, but he would not take his honor, his morality, his code. He would not give Joker the satisfaction.
Yeah! I think, ultimately, DC said it best, -- one death, two deaths, three deaths, -- whatever you pick, everybody loses. It was a no win situation from the start and specifically designed to have no satisfactory ending
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ellana-ravenwood · 3 years
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“You’re not my real mom !” - Batkids x Fem!Reader (Batmom)
Synopsis : A story about those few dreaded words : “You’re not my real mom”, said by the batkids, to you, in a the heat of a moment. And the aftermath of it all... 
This has been in my draft for ages. I hope you like it :) : 
my masterlists : @ella-ravenwood-archives
__________________________________________________
DICK 
It happened so fast. In a quick moment of anger. 
A flash, a bang, words said too quickly to truly realize their meaning. 
Dick was frustrated because he felt you didn’t understand him, his point of view. And you were trying to explain to him that it was not okay to...
You know what ? 
You couldn’t even remember what he did. As if whatever it was, it was all wiped out of your memory when he pronounced those bone chilling words. 
You only remembered you were “scolding” him, just like parents do when their child did something he wasn’t supposed to. You rarely told Dick off, even when he would burst into fits of anger. 
You always told him : “When you came into my life, you changed everything. And I love all of you little bird. Not just when you’re joking around and smiling. But also when you get angry, and lash out. You are my son, I love all of you.” 
And you meant it. Often, you or Bruce would take the brunt of his anger, without batting an eye. After all, that child went through a lot. It was totally normal for him to lash out at times. 
He saw his parents died right in front of him. It wasn’t a trauma that would be solved that fast (Bruce was proof of it). “The magic of love” couldn't simply cure someone who was so deeply hurt. Although it helped, over time. 
Yes. Time. 
It would take time, and support, for Dick to heal. And you were here for it. Here for him. 
But there were times, you had to say something. 
Usually, it was when he was being too reckless. 
Your son could be overzealous, and go too far. And you were so worried about his safety and wellbeing...Very rarely, you’d have to “scold” him. 
And you couldn’t even remember what you were lecturing him about that evening (even if you had an idea it was about being a little more careful). All you remembered was...
“You’re not even my real mom ! You can’t tell me anything !” 
And him turning away from you, crossing his arms and refusing to look your way. Which was good anyway, because you were an instant mess. 
“Ok”, you managed to say, wondering how the hell you were able to get the words out. And then you left. Feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. And your heart slowly breaking. 
Bruce found you two later, both clearly feeling down... 
Dick stayed quiet the entire time they were on patrol, and Bruce instantly knew something was wrong. He wasn’t there during your fight, and he only arrived when you were already gone, surprised that you went to bed so early in the night, and didn’t stay with your son downstairs until it was time for patrol... 
The man didn’t push the boy, waiting for him to open up if he wanted to. And as usual, Dick did finally speak up. In a weak voice, as they were surveying the city from a rooftop, he said :
“I told her she wasn’t my real mom...” 
“Ah.” 
Bruce felt the urge to go back home and console you, knowing that you were certainly a mess, right now. But he had to take care of his boy, too. 
And oh, oh Dick looked so crestfallen and sad as the meaning of his words slowly etched into his mind. 
“I told her she wasn’t-she wasn’t-but she is I just-I-I don’t know why I said that-I...” 
The little one was on the verge of tears, and Bruce understood why. 
He probably understood more than anyone else. 
He told Alfred “You’re not my dad !” more than once, and remembered how even the stoic butler looked, whenever he said it. 
He remembered the hurt in his eyes, the resignation too. The “very well sir”, said in a neutral manner, but the stiff way he’d left the room. 
It took Bruce a while, to finally realize that Alfred WAS his father. That he raised him, most definitely. And was always there for him during the hard times. 
That he even helped and supported him, when he came back after disappearing for years, saying : “I’m going to dress up as a bat and wipe crimes from Gotham”. ...How many parents would be that understanding, eh ? 
Alfred knew Bruce. And always tried to do his best for him. So whenever Bruce would yell at him that he “wasn’t his father”, it hurt. 
Bruce knew it. He noticed how Alfred’s entire demeanor would change. He’d see a light go out in his eyes. 
“Very well, sir.”, a small bow, and the stiffness of his body as he left...
And Bruce remembered. 
The guilt and the pain he felt himself, as he regretted ever saying those words. As he knew they were going to hurt, which is why he said them in the first place.
It wasn’t that he wanted to hurt his adopted father, oh no. It was that sometimes he just...He just felt so angry ! Like everything was unfair ! And he missed his parents so much ! 
It was a force stronger than him, he wanted Alfred to leave him alone, and pushed him away...”You’re not my dad !”. So yes. Bruce understood little Dickie. He understood you, too. He knew how you must’ve felt, he saw it enough happening to Alfred. 
Once you’d get home, he would take care of you. But right now, he had to care for his son. 
Right here, on one of Gotham’s rooftop, the scary and mighty Batman slowly kneeled down, and took his boy in his arms, holding him tightly. 
Dick didn’t need more to throw his arms around his father’s shoulders, and hold him strongly too, with all his nine years old strength, sobbing slowly. 
Bruce drew soothing circles on his back, and whispered : 
“It’s ok, it’s going to be ok. It’s ok. Calm down, things are going to be ok.” 
Your husband lost count of the time passing. Were they there, holding each others while Dick was sobbing uncontrollably, for ten minutes, or for ten hours ? He didn’t know. And he didn’t budge.  
His son needed him. Just like once, he needed Alfred... 
Dick fell asleep in his arms, and that night, Bruce came home early. 
Not like he was going to stay out anyway, knowing you were probably devastated, all alone in your room... 
************
Dick fell into a deep sleep, and didn’t budge one bit even as Bruce came down the building, rode home, and put him into bed. 
Bruce’s guess was that all the pent up feelings truly exhausted him. Also, he knew that crying could be tiring. And freeing, in a way. 
Putting the boy’s blanket all the way up to his chin, Bruce laid a kiss on his forehead and then rushed to your shared bedroom... 
You had cried too, but you were not asleep. 
Your eyes were puffy and red, and your cheeks marked with your tears. You seemed surprised, when he came in, and looked at the clock. 
It was only midnight ? 
“Hello, my love.” 
He sat down next to you, and from the way he ran his fingers through your hair, and caressed your cheek, wiping the salty tears from it...You knew he knew.
He knew how devastated you felt. How those simple words that would mean nothing for many, truly wounded you. 
He knew how much you loved that boy, how as soon as your eyes laid on his little face that terrible night he lost his parents, you felt like he was going to be your son one day. 
He knew how much you’d sacrifice for that kid’s happiness, how far you’d go to keep him safe...And so, how hurtful him telling you you weren’t his real mother must’ve felt.  
There was no need for words. 
He knew what to do. He laid next to you, and you just cuddled up to him, letting him wrap you up in his warm embrace. 
He drew those same soothing circles on your back than he did on Dick’s. And whispered : 
“He didn’t mean it. He truly didn’t. He loves you, you know. I love you too.” 
You fell asleep to his words of love and reassurance, finally letting go after hours of not being able to sleep, reenacting the terrible scene in your head over and over again, making yourself feel worst each times. 
************
You woke up around 4 am, with Bruce’s arms wrapped around you.  
He was asleep and escaping his grasp (without Alfred’s help) took you a little bit..but you managed to leave without waking him up. 
He did groan a little at the loss of your warmth, and grabbed your pillow to hold it against his chest. Which was extremely cute, and oh how glad you were to be the only one to see this side of him. 
You went down to the kitchen and... 
Dick was coming from the other door, opposite to the one you took.
The kitchen had three access. Two doors facing each others, and one on the third wall. The door you took was because you got a little lost and did a detour through the drawing room. Dick, however, came from the door you should’ve come from too, which was the one you accessed from the West Wing third corridors, which was directly under your bedroom, and Dick’s. 
The boy probably stood up a little after you, and while you got lost in your own home (again), he took the normal way and...
Boom. Here you both were, arriving in the kitchen at the same time. 
There was a small silence. Awkward. And...
Your heart tightened. 
Dick was sort of cowering backward in fear. Fear of what ? 
Oh. But of course. 
“He didn’t mean it.” 
Bruce whispered to you many times, before you fell asleep. And the way Dick looked at you, worry in his eyes...He was thinking you were mad at him. And the regret in his pupils was as obvious as that fact. 
“Ice cream ?” 
You ask him. His eyes widen a bit, and you can almost see the gears in his brain trying to piece everything together. You’re...not mad at him ? 
Of course you’re not. You felt sad, and lost, and hurt, yes. But never did you feel any hint of anger. Of course not. 
You take out his favorite flavor from the freezer, and settle a bowl in front of one of the high stool around the counter. 
At that time, Dick was so tiny. A very short little bean. And he’d stay small for a long time, only having a sudden spurt when he was around fifteen. 
He climbed onto the stool, and watched you as you gave him some ice cream and a spoon, and then sat down next to him to eat some as well. 
The silent was slowly turning less awkward. 
Slowly, and unsurely, Dick picked his spoon up and looked at you. And completely missed his mouth, the ice cream spreading on his cheek instead. 
You turn around to look at him, ice cream on his cheek, and he’s clearly embarrassed, as a tint of color slowly rises on his face. 
You don’t really know why, but something snaps in you and you start laughing. And laughing. And laughing. 
Because honestly, the kid missing his mouth as he picked his spoon up full of ice cream, is kinda funny right ? And also, all the tension and stress you felt suddenly broke with this simple, silly thing. 
Unsure at first, Dick just looked at you. But your laughter quickly spread to him, and soon enough, you both were bursting out in laughter. 
Anyone not knowing what happened, would probably think you were both crazy, laughing that hard for no apparent reasons. 
Instinctually, you ruffle his hair and Dick gasps. You really weren’t mad at him ?!
You realized what you did, and slowly, both your laughter subsided. There was a small silence as Dick stared at you, and you stared back, and then : 
“I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it !” 
He says in a small voice, and he can’t add anything else as you just pick him up and hold him tight against your heart, and you say : 
“I know.” 
And it’s all he needs to realize you’re not really mad at him, and although he messed up and hurt you, right now, you were both on the path of recovery... 
Next morning, Bruce woke up alone in bed, which greatly distressed him as usual (he often woke up first). But a gut feeling was telling him that...
He found you asleep with Dick in his bed, holding him tightly. 
************
After that event, you sat down with him, so you could have a serious talk about the underlining issue this raised. Talk about something important. 
“Little bird, you know I love you, right ?” 
He nods, but still cannot speak quite yet, doesn’t have the energy to. 
“I want you to understand something. Something vital. Are you listening ?” 
He nods again, his eyes fixed on you. And he’s listening, oh he definitely is. 
“It’s ok to be angry. It’s ok to lash out. It’s ok to not be alright. It’s ok to make mistakes.” 
He nods, a little slower than before, and you can see his eyes slowly becoming wetter and wetter. 
“It’s ok. It really is. I’m here. And I love you. Even when you don’t want me around. Even when you push me away. I’m here. And I always will be. Ok ?” 
He nods one last time, unable to hold his tears, and then his little arms latch around you, and he refuses to let go for well over an hour...
Oh. Sweet, sweet boy. 
Your son. 
************
Even now, at age twenty seven, Dick still often think about this day. And the regrets are as burning as they were back then. 
He often thought about it. 
Whenever you did something for him, went out of your way to make him happy, or were just there for him, always...
He’d have a flashback of this day, and feel nothing but regret and anger at his younger self. 
And then you’d read him like an open book. Know exactly what he was thinking, and would slowly shake your head, and say : “I know I often said that, but I will say it till the day I die if I need to :  when you came into my life, you changed everything. And I love all of you little bird. Not just when you’re joking around and smiling. But also when you get angry, and lash out. You are my son. I love all of you. Even when you’re a little bit of a jerk.” and you’d wink at him, making him chuckle and feel a surge of affection toward you. 
Kind of like the ones you’d feel sometimes. A sudden urge to hug your family, to tell them what they mean to you. Both you and Dick understood since a long time that with the life you all lead, you never knew what could happen, and should never waste a “I love you” if you felt like saying it. 
Well, the apple never fall far from the tree ? 
Yes. Because you were his mom. And nothing would ever change his mind on that. Ever. 
JASON 
"Well Jason, you did it you idiot !” 
He says to himself in the mirror, and oh he could’ve punch himself if it was possible. He took his desk chair, and threw it across his bedroom, letting out a scream of frustration. 
He went to his desk, and threw everything that was on it on the floor. He then went to his book shelves and...
There. Your book. The one you wrote for him. 
Jason fell to his knee, holding his head in his hands, crying softly. 
Yes. Yes he did it...He ruined this one chance life gave him to have parents. 
He hurt one of the person that meant the most to him, one of the person he loved the most...His mom. You. 
Because you were his mom, no matter what he told you, in that moment of anger as you scolded him after he did something dangerous during one of his patrol. 
He hadn’t been allowed to go out for long, by then. And Bruce had already scolded him before for the very same thing, so when you did it too, he had enough and...it happened before he could think about it. 
He was angry, about the lack of trust and about the sermons, and his brain tried to hurt without even thinking about it. Triggered by years of living in the streets, where he had to think quick and act right away, and then suffer the consequences. If he wasn’t fast enough, it could be the end of him... 
A gut reaction triggered by years of being all on his own, having to fend for himself. His brain went into overdrive, “hurt” is what it set into motion. 
“You’re not my mom !” 
And that was it...
As he saw your face fell, and his father’s face turn angry, he knew. He knew he messed up. He messed everything up, as usual !
“Jason !” 
Bruce called, but Jason wasn’t about to stop. He ran out of the cave, right to his bedroom. Oh, oh but if only he stayed a little longer. He’d realize that his father wasn’t angry, just hurt as well. 
Hurt to see the woman he loved being hurt. 
Not angry. Ah but being in pain could sometimes look like you are mad ? And Bruce hadn't been able to hide his frown as he heard Jason’s words... 
“Let him be, Bruce.” 
You say in a weak voice. You knew Jason, you knew sometimes he needed to cool down on his own. That he could be impulsive, but always came around. 
Ah. But that time, he needed everything but to be alone. 
Because, as he thought he ruined his one chance at having a real family, he thought... 
“Better to leave before they throw me away !” 
He knew he could never bear to face you and Bruce, as you’d certainly tell him you were “un-adopting” him. Jason saw it happened before. Someone thinking their adopted kid was “too much”, and sending them back. 
It was awful, of course. But it happened. For real. And Jason knew that life could really suck...But her couldn’t bear to face you as you’d send him away. 
Worst, what if you just send Alfred and that was it ?
No. Jason would leave before you could do that. He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t. 
Filling his backpack with some clothes, and snacks, he opened his window and slid down the gutter all the way to the ground, and then ran away into the night. Tears trailing down behind him, as he left behind the one place in which he ever felt safe, warm, and loved. 
In the meantime, you and Bruce were unaware of that, and slowly falling asleep in each others’ arms... As usual, Bruce was there for you. 
************
“Jason ? I thought I wouldn’t see you anymore after you got adopted by dem fancy fellas. Are you here to get some work ?” 
“No.” 
“Really, why did you come then ?” 
“I didn’t, I’m just passing by.” 
“Nah, don’t believe it. Once a bad boy, always a bad boy !” 
“TAKE IT BACK !” 
As he ran away, Jason went back to a place he thought he never would need to. A few intricate alleys, in the Bowery, under the main city. 
The Bowery, a filthy underground neighborhood, hell on Earth for many. Although things did improve when Batman started his work a few years back. 
“Wow there tiger, relax.” 
Jason came in this specific area for only one thing. Retrieve a few items he left behind, thinking he would never need it again because he was leaving behind this life. 
He had a hideout, not far. In which he hid some materials to survive in the streets. He thought he probably had to go back to stealing cars’ tires...Although maybe he should change it. Thinking of what happened last time he did this hurt his heart. 
He knew that next time he’d get caught stealing tires, the person wouldn’t end up adopting him...Anyway, he didn’t want any other parents but you and Bruce. 
And he messed that up so bad, by being so mean to you ! 
“Listen, it’s not because you got all fancy schmancy that you can talk to me like that. Remember who’s boss in this part of town.” 
Batman did a lot of good to the city, but also, by getting rid of some big players in the “crime business”, he allowed small time thugs to climb up the ladders...It felt, at times, like there always was someone to replace whoever Bruce just put behind bars... 
The man who was talking to Jason, used to be a small time criminal. Turned boss, when the Batman kept arresting all the people above him. Jason used to “work” for him, bringing him watches or jewelry that he’d exchange against cash. 
Damn. He never thought he’d ever see him again... Oh and he definitely didn’t think this through. 
As the new boss, who’s name was Johnny Clancy, told him that he’d forever be a “bad boy”, Jason saw red and...getting mad at a crime boss was a bad idea. 
Before he could even think about an escape plan, Jason was surrounded by dangerous armed men. 
“How dare you talk to me like that ? Mmm. The Waynes adopted you right ? Mmm. They’re loaded. Probably would pay a fortune to get you back uh ? And to think they’re gonna give me a lot of cash to get a little runaway brat back haha. Because that’s what you did right ? You ran away ? As you always did before mm ? You know, I observed you Jason Todd. I saw you run away from anyone getting close. I saw you.” 
Jason’s heart didn’t need anyone to push and squiggle the knife he felt in around some more. He had just lost his family. Did he need more reminder that he always fucked up ?! 
“They won’t give you any money, they don’t want me anymore...” 
But Johnny didn’t believe him, of course. He told two of his thugs to grab the boy, but Jason, by instinct, dropped them to the floor with a few well placed kicks and punches. 
And that was enough to unleash Johnny Clancy’s wrath.
See, he was a new boss. He had to assert dominance. And an eight years old kid making a fool of him and his gang ? That wouldn’t go. 
So what if he had to off a child ? Anything to keep climbing up, and leave the Bowery’s slums. 
************
“Have you seen Jason ?” 
Bruce asks you, a few hours after your fight with him. 
“What ? No, I thought he was with you ?”
“No, he skipped his training and I thought he might be with you, apologizing for what he said yesterday ? You know, sounds like something he would do.” 
“I haven’t seen him since, you know. I thought he was avoiding me...” 
“He would never.” 
“Bruce...” 
“He would never, my love. I know what he said hurt you, but I’m sure he’s regretting it right now. You should go see him, he’s probably sulking in his bedroom. I wouldn’t be surprised if you meet him up the stairs as he comes down to say sorry.” 
“Bruce...” 
Your husband comes to you, and takes your hands in his. 
“You know him. He’s impulsive, and a little abrasive sometimes. But he’s a sweet child. And he regrets his bursts, you know it. Tonight was just tough, we both scolded him, he’s not used to it.” 
“You’re right.” 
“Of course I am, I’m-”
“I swear to God if you say “I’m Batman” I’m going to smack you.” 
Bruce smiles softly at you, glad he managed to at least made the tension go away a little. He pecks your lips quickly, and watches you as you leave to go to your son’s bedroom. 
He was about to go down the Batcave, when you came back, panicked : 
“He’s gone ! Jason’s gone !” 
Ah. Bruce knew that placing a tracker in his children’s molars was a good idea. 
************
“HOW HARD IS IT TO CATCH A FUCKING KID ?!” 
Jason runs as fast as he can, without looking back. He managed to break the line of thugs coming at him, and escape in-between to of them who didn’t pull their guns out quite yet. 
They were shooting at him. With no hesitation. 
Johnny was set on proving he was an unscrupulous boss. To earn everyone’s respect. So what if he had to shoot a kid ? It’d send everyone a message. He’d back off from nothing ! 
Jason turned in an alley and...Damn it ! He must’ve taken a wrong turn at some point, it had been a while, since he roamed the Bowery’s alleyways...
He was faced by a wall, stuck. And they quickly caught up to him. 
“Wooouh, you’re fast kid. And you’re sneaky. Too bad you’re such a brat, I bet you could be a nice addition to our-”
Johnny Clancy never finished his sentence. In fact, he never could properly speak after that night. After getting his jaw broken into a thousand pieces by the Batman’s fist. 
Bruce had come down from nowhere, with...you in his arms ?! 
This was the first time Jason saw you wear the costume he saw a few times in the Batcave. He thought you wore it only to go to the JLA’s watchtower, to hide your identity. Not that you could actually...fight ?! 
And wow, you definitely could hold your own ! You made a few disarming pass, taking the guns away from all the men before they could even react, and letting Bruce finish them off with well placed kicks and punches. 
Oh and that night, the Batman unleashed his rage and unforgiveness full force. How dare they touch his son ?! 
You didn’t have anything to envy from your husband either, however, as you worked through Johnny’s gang rather fast too. 
That night, the both of you exterminated (figure of speech, of course, neither of you ever killed, that was the one big rule...but there were never a rule against breaking a few bones) Johnny Clancy’s gang, who dared to even think of hurting your precious son. 
Jason, holding his backpack tight against him, couldn’t believe his eyes. You two came to save him ? But...why ? 
He messed up. You’d surely not want him around anymore ! 
Once Bruce dropped the last man, you rushed to Jason and before he could utter a sound, took him in your arms. 
“Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re safe baby, I’m so glad you’re...” 
Your voice broke at the end, and you chocked, the emotions too strong and squeezing your throat. 
Jason didn’t understand. And through his surprise, he managed to say : 
“I thought-I thought you’d never want to see me again, and that you wouldn’t want to be my mom anymore.” 
You hold him even tighter, as you feel Bruce get down on his knee and bring the both of you in his arms. 
“Oh sweety, never. Never.” 
You say, not letting go. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...” 
Your son manage to choke out, before sobbing profusely and holding on to you and Bruce. 
“I’m just glad you’re safe...it’s ok, it’s ok it’s already forgotten...” 
And it was. As soon as you saw that Jason-That your SON, was missing, you forgot he ever told you “you’re not my mom”. You forgot and it truly didn’t matter anymore, as all you cared about was to find him, and make sure he was safe. 
“Jason, oh my little Jason, I’m so glad you’re safe...”
Wether it is a conscious things or not, he returns your embrace fiercely, holding tightly as he looks up at you. It almost feels like he wants to make sure you really are there. And won’t go anywhere. Like everyone else did in his life. 
Jason was tired of losing those close to him. Those he cared about. Sometimes, he’d push them away, by fear of getting attached again just for life to rip them away from him. So he held onto you, as you held him back. 
Tightly against your heart. 
“Mom...” 
This was the day Jason Todd realized something very important : He wasn’t alone anymore. He had parents who loved him, and he loved them back. 
So much. 
And they’d never let him go. Never. 
************
Years later, this love he had for you and Bruce, turned out to be the very reason he became “Red Hood”. 
From that day he told you : “you’re not my real mom !”, he felt like he belonged. Like finally, the people he loved loved him back. Like he was cherished. And then Bruce didn’t avenge him. He let Joker get away. And you let him do it. You, the people he trusted and loved most in the world, betrayed him...
He felt like he wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth Bruce breaking his one rule to avenge him. He wasn’t worth it...He didn’t matter enough. 
Jason felt so angry. For years. He wanted to hurt you, to hurt Bruce. To show you what it felt like. What HE felt like. 
But Jason has always been a strong one. You knew it. You told him enough times : “you’re a fighter, my Jason. You went through so much, and always came out of it. You lost a lot on the way my little one, but you never give up. You never give up...” 
You never give up. 
Love. 
It’s what drove him to become the Red Hood. It’s what drove him over the edge. What gave him so much pain. 
Rather, the feeling of not being loved. The thought all you and Bruce said to him, about how much you cared and loved him, was a lie. 
Yes. The thought that you lied about loving him, is what broke him. What made him find every way possible to truly, truly hurt you two.
You never give up. 
He was so angry. But he never could quite give up on his family...that’s why he didn’t stay with the Al’ghuls. That why they didn’t keep him. 
He could never forget you and Bruce. Move on. 
He could never. 
Jason was a strong lad. Strong enough to see past his hate and need of revenge. His pain. His deep trauma. 
It took a while. But the change came from him. He’s the one that gave you another chance. And it allowed him to realize...nothing was a lie.
And you got your son back.
Because you showed him. You showed him nothing was a lie.
When his dad never gave up on him even as he killed more and more people, and even as Jason saw him completely erase people who used to be close from him as soon as they killed once. When you refused to let him go. When Bruce kept going back, even as he knew Jason would fight him and try to hurt him. When you pleaded with him, even when you knew his answer would be the same... 
Jason never gave up. 
But you didn’t either. 
“You’re not my mom”, are words he never meant. Not even once. Not even when he was the “old” Red Hood, the one that killed mercilessly any criminals, and that was trying to be exactly what Batman wasn’t. 
“You’re not my mom”, even at his worst, at a time he suffered greatly, Jason never meant it. He never did. 
And ultimately, it’s this filial love, and the love you and Bruce had for him, that brought him back out of the dark pit the Joker pushed him in...
TIM 
Tim knew that his overly pragmatic mind sometimes could make him sound tactless. That he had trouble, sometimes, expressing himself properly. 
He knew that what he said, although it could be the factual truth, could be perceived as not being very nice... 
He knew, yet sometimes, he couldn’t help himself. 
“But you’re not my mom.” 
He told you that day, as you asked when was the “mother/child day” at school. 
Tim’s school had a day each year, during which every mother would come and do different activities with their kids. You did it with Dick and Jason, and it was always great fun, and amazing bonding time. 
By then, Tim had been with you and Bruce for over a year now. And he did, see you as his mom. However, he was a little too set, at the time, on rules and specifics. In the “mother/child day” rulebook, it “specifically” said that the actual child’s mother had to come, not the nanny or anyone else. 
In Tim’s mind, although he did see you as his mom, he thought the school wouldn’t. For him, the way the rules were written, were clearly stating his birth mother had to come. And the official adoption papers were not processed yet. Those took quite a while. 
He had been living with you for over a year. He called you and Bruce “mom and dad”. He truly considered you two his parents. But the official papers were not done quite yet. So to him, in the eye of the law (be it a silly school rule), you weren’t his mom quite yet. 
So when he said : “but you’re not my mom”, that’s what he meant. Of course, you misunderstood...
How could you guess that Tim was thinking that only his “birth mother” could take him, because officially right now he didn’t have a mom, just “guardians”...
His mother was dead. Has been dead for a while, now. And even if she wasn’t, Tim knew she’d never come at this event...She wasn’t the caring type of mother. Not like you. Which is why it really bummed him out that those rules were so clearly stated like that !
What Tim misunderstood, is that this specific rule had been added to the rulebook because many family would send their nanny, or a big sister, instead of the mom. Because Tim was of course in Gotham’s Academy, full of rich families, in which the moms were very busy...
Which is why such a day existed. Some kids spend quality times with their mom only on this school day. Nowadays, everyone made an effort to come (the fact you appeared, the famed (Y/N) Wayne, a few years back, with Dick, and it made all the papers’ headlines, might’ve influenced others to participate too).
To tell the truth, Tim was very disappointed that you couldn’t go with him, and was considering asking the principle of the school to do an exception to the rule and allow you to go with him.  
He was already fomenting a plan in his head to convince the headmaster to let you come as his mom, and as usual when he was planning things out, he completely disconnected from reality. 
And therefor, didn’t see how your face “closed”, and your eyes turned sad. The boy was typing away on his computer, as if nothing had just happened, as if you didn’t feel your world crumble as he flat out told you you weren’t his mom...
Of course, it was all a misunderstanding. He meant it as “officially”. Not about his actual feelings. 
For some reason, the way he said it so nonchalantly hurts you more than when Dick and Jason yelled at you that you “weren't their mom”. Because at least, in your eldests’ cases, you knew it was in the heat of the moment. 
That it was because they felt frustrated and sad. 
But Tim just told you : “But you’re not my mom.” matter of factly, and moved on. And it hurt. 
It hurt so much, because that boy...You loved that boy, of course. And considered him your son for sure. Part of your heart, now. Part of your family. And he felt so far, right now...so far... 
You left the room and he didn’t even notice. 
Did he really not see you as his mom ? Was he just calling you “mom” to imitate his brothers ? ...You didn’t know, but it hurt. 
It hurt so much. 
************
You found Bruce in his office, doing some paperworks for Wayne Inc. When he saw your face, he immediately smiled, your presence lighting his whole world...But then he saw your expression, and he frowned. 
“What happened ?” 
************
“Mom ? MooOOooom ?” 
Tim had been looking for you for the past hour, but wasn’t able to find you. You weren't in all your favorite places ! Did you leave the Manor without telling him ? It was unlike you. 
Finally, he found you. You were in a room that was rarely used, but which was conveniently close to Bruce’s office, and had a couch. 
Laying on top of your husband, you were fast asleep as Bruce was going through his paperworks, letting you holding onto his waist as he kept working. 
When he saw the boy come in the room, he smiled at him. And it was hard, not to smile at Tim, seeing his own big wide smile. 
Tim was missing a few teeth, that fell not long ago, and it was absolutely the cutest, when he smiled widely. He looked so happy, eyes sparkly and genuine smile. It felt wrong to Bruce, to think that this sweet boy didn’t see you as his mom...
Maybe it was all a misunderstanding ? Wouldn’t be the first time. Although, Bruce knew how sometimes Tim could be brutally honest, and say the facts in a matter of factly way that could be very harsh on the uninitiated. 
Your son was holding a cardboard sheet almost as big as him, and looked very excited about something. He slowly approached you two, and said, whispering, yet the excitement was clear in his voice : 
“Has she been asleep for long, dad ?!” 
He called Bruce dad. Without an hesitation. And it felt so genuine. Like he was relishing in the word rolling off of his tongue. And it was often the case, with Tim. His parents, when they were still alive, never really noticed his presence... 
And sometimes, it could be even worst to have parents who acted as if you didn’t exist, than caring parents who passed away. Bruce realized this. 
“No, she just closed her eyes.” 
Bruce answers, looking at you. And oh he couldn’t possibly know how soft his expressions as as he gazed at your sleeping face. 
“Oh...” 
Tim was clearly disappointed. His shoulders fell down, and he looked on the floor, looking defeated.
“What is it, champ ?” 
“Well, I wanted her to-Oh ! Mom !” 
The rumbling of your husband’s chest as he spoke is what woke you up. Not the actual sound of their voices, just that low vibrations reverberating in his chest. 
You opened one eye, then the second, and was greeted by your youngest son’s face being very close to you. As Tim saw you were waking up, he kneeled down next to the couch, settling his piece of cardboard next to him, and approached you very closely. 
His smile and sweet expression filled your vision. And you felt even more hurt, as you saw him so happy to see you, to know he didn’t really think you were his mom. 
It was clear he cared for you. And loved you, and being with you. But to him...You weren’t his mom. And that was so painful. 
“I got a plan mom, I got a plan !” 
A...Plan ? For what ? You don’t even have time to ask him, and, still a little hazy as you just woke up from a short nap (that you took after crying exhausted you), you raise a little from your husband. 
You exchange a curious look with him, as you see Tim spring to his feet and get a hold of the piece of cardboard that is almost as tall and large as him. 
He turns it around and...
Your heart drops. 
It’s a lot of very detailed drawings, maps and words about...about...
“This is how we’re going to convince the headmaster of my school that you’re really my mom, even if officially you’re not yet !! I thought we could start with logic first, and then go down the path of pathos if he really doesn’t change his mind !” 
What ? Your brain is trying really hard to comprehend what’s happening, although it is starting to put two and two together. 
“The rules say that the mom HAS to be the one who comes, and the way they wrote it suggest that they wouldn’t accept someone who isn’t yet official. But I think we could convince that, in our heart, we’re already an official family, right ?!” 
Tim looks at you, and then at his dad, a little worry in his eyes (what if for them, he wasn’t their son yet because the paperworks weren’t finished and officials quite yet ?!?!). Bruce cannot help but smile, and nods, feeling his heart melt (a rare occurrence). 
And you. You have exactly the reaction he expected you’d have. You sit up, put the cardboard aside, and drag your son into a tight hug that makes him giggle and exclaim : 
“Hahaha mom wait I can’t breaaaathe !! Mom !!” 
But he hugs you back, knowing that this means yes, you do consider him your son already, paperworks or not, and you will probably follow his plan to convince the school to-
“Mom ? Why are you crying ? Mom ?” 
You can’t explain it to him. You feel silly, but also so emotional and touched. You thought he didn’t think of you as his mom. But he did. Oh he did, and was actually worried about technicalities of rules and...So sweet. That boy is so sweet. 
Carefully, Tim dries your tears, and look curiously at his dad, his eyes clearly asking : “Did I do something wrong ?”
You’re still unable to speak, as you hold onto him, and Bruce ruffles his son’s hair saying : 
“She’s just too happy, champ. She’s just too happy.” 
CASSANDRA
"You, not my mom !” 
She screamed. You never heard Cass raised her voice before. And yet, here, she screamed at you. And then closed her bedroom door right on your nose. 
And you felt it in your heart. That specific pain that you wished you’d never feel again. That kind of hurt you wished you’d never feel ever again. 
It happened just liked it did with Dick and Jason. You were “lecturing” her about putting herself in needless danger, and she felt frustrated at the fact you “didn’t trust her”. 
It wasn’t true of course. You did trust her. And you knew she could hold her own. Didn’t mean you wouldn’t worry, and scold her if she really scared you... 
It was pure instinct. You couldn’t stop yourself from telling them off when you felt they went too far. You did it with Bruce too. 
Once, he threw himself in the way of a bullet to save you, and once he recovered enough...Oh you were so mad at him. 
It’s not that you wanted to take that bullet, of course. You knew it was also instinct that made him move to save you. But in truth, you would rather take a thousand bullet than lose any of them. Bruce, or your children. 
And sometimes, it was hard for them to understand this. To get why you were so worried, when you accepted fully their night activities. 
Why you monitored the batcomputer, if it was to scold them when they put themselves in danger ? 
Ah but they didn’t understand that you only got “mad” when they put themselves in NEEDLESS danger. Pushing themselves too far that one night, being careless with something, ignoring their own safety to finish a task... 
You couldn’t help but be afraid. And your fear turned into you scolding them. And sometimes, on each sides, things boiled and...
“You, not my mom !” 
The meaning was clear. As Cass slammed her door right in your face, you knew not to push it further, not to tell her anything more. 
Maybe you should’ve ? Should’ve open her door, and continue lecturing her so she’d understand her life was valuable ? 
Cass put herself in danger more than any other member of your family, because she was raised as a weapon and thought of herself as an “expendable”. You weren’t mad at her for this, of course not (but oh, David Cain probably should never cross your path, it wasn’t pretty, when you were truly angry). 
You were just worried. And unfortunately, being a parent was complicated and sometimes, your worry turned a little overbearing for your kids. 
This was a mistake every normal caring parents made. Wanting what was best for their children, sometimes not realizing they’re going too far. And you ? Your family wasn’t normal. 
Your children were vigilantes. Your worries were tuned up to the max.  
Being a parent was hard. And sometimes, both you and your kids were frustrated. It happened. In any family. 
It was resolved rather fast, most of the time. A little conversation, understanding and indulgence, and boom. Sorted. 
However, there were times when things would go a little too far. Wether because one of you was tired, or didn’t feel well etc etc...
Tonight, was such a time. 
“You, not my mom !” 
Cass didn’t even register what she said. She was just mad and frustrated, and said the first thing that came into her mind. Her hand slammed the door shut before she could even think about it. 
And here you were. In the corridor. In front of your daughter’s door. 
Hurt. And feeling as devastated as you did when her brothers told you the same thing. You would think, after a few times of this happening, it’d be easier, right ? Well. No. It wasn’t. It really wasn’t. 
As usual in those instances, you went to seek comfort in the arms of your husband. 
************
Cassandra didn’t feel ok. 
In fact, she felt absolutely terrible. 
She couldn’t even remember the last time she felt that bad. 
When she went to look for you and apologize for her behavior, she found you in her dad’s arms, crying, and it made her run away...
She couldn’t face you, knowing she truly hurt you like that. 
The worst thing is, she knew she would hurt you by saying those words. Yet she still did it. It was as if she couldn’t control herself. It was like an ugly force took over her, and made her say those words. 
But she knew. She knew she’s the one who ultimately decided to say them. She’s the one that pronounced them. Under the anger. 
Anger. 
The ugly force. 
She turned around in her bed, holding onto the plush toy you gave her shortly after her arrival. You said “every child should have one” and that this one made you think of her. 
It was a fox with bright colors. And it still smelled like you. 
She was about to fall asleep, when she heard a knock on her door. 
“Can we come in ?” 
It was her older brothers. 
Dick, Jason and Tim. 
It was rare, to have them all in the same place nowadays, what with how busy they all were. Dick with Bludhäven, Jason with the gods only knew what really (the gods, and you and Bruce...but sshhh, that’s a secret), and Tim with college applications. 
So Cass immediately understood that they heard about the fight she had with their mom. 
And she felt a rush of shame come over her. She felt sad too, because maybe they’d be mad at her ?
Cassandra didn’t think she could bear to break your heart, and have her precious brothers mad at her all in the same day. 
She almost told them to leave. But she didn’t have the strength. 
They surrounded her, and their presence was so...soothing. 
And then they spoke. They each told her the story of the time they told their mom those few dreaded words. 
“You’re not my real mom !” 
They told her how awful they felt, and how they knew they hurt their mom. They told her that...well, they did have the best mom ever. 
You never held any grudge. Ever. Especially not against your own family. 
You never even mentioned again the fact they told you this awful thing, you never even mentioned once this, under any circumstances. 
Her brothers stayed with her for hours, talking about their feelings on the matter. Telling her it happened. That everyone wasn’t always on their best behavior...
It was hard, for Cass, to not be “good”. She did so many awful things when her biological father raised her to be a weapon, she felt like she had to catch up so much on those years of “badness”. 
She often felt like she was evil, and could never caught up to everything. Like she was doomed, and could never become good. 
On that, Jason told her she was wrong. That everyone could change, and no one was born truly evil. Environment, and the way you’re raised, matter. And what she did...wasn’t her fault. She was forced to. If she really enjoyed doing this she’d never become a Batgirl. She would never be part of this family. 
She often felt like she was a bad daughter. 
On that, Dick told her she was wrong. He too, felt like a bad son, when he “replaced” his parents with you and Bruce. He too, felt like a bad son when he would get so mad while you would do anything to make him happy. He too, felt like a bad son...on so many occasions. But he grew. And thanks to you mainly, he realized he was just human. Mistakes are human. And it’s not being a bad son, to sometimes feel so hurt that you lash out. That your trauma are so strong, things sometimes are tough. 
She often felt like she couldn’t fit in, and would never fit in. 
On that, Tim told her she was wrong. Him too, felt too different. He already had parents, they were alive, he just wanted to help, he didn’t have any friends...But in this family. In this family, everyone fitted in. Because you made it so. Bruce made it saw. You both accepted any flaws, and differences your kids might have. You loved them unconditionally, they all knew that by now. 
And Cass...Cass didn’t want to hurt you. 
They knew that, too.
It was an accident. In the heat of the moment. She didn’t mean it. Of course, you are her mom. Of course...
It felt good, to have her brothers there for her, when you couldn’t be. 
************
Later that night, after her brothers left, Cass slowly exits her room and take the known way to yours and Bruce’s. 
You are both there, and she knows her dad stayed because you felt bad. He always stayed with you, when you were feeling down. And vice versa.
Cass always told herself that, later, if she ever found a significant other, she’d want her and them to have the same kind of relationships than you. You and Bruce set up a rather high standard for whoever would come into her life. 
But that was another story. For now, she was opening the door slowly, scared of waking you up. But you were awake. 
Bruce was asleep, deeply. As usual when he felt your warmth against him. But you were not. Cass could see you slowly and absentmindedly caress your husband’s hair. It was soothing to both of you. His silky smooth dark hair were soft in between your fingers, and helped you get your mind off of the pain and focus on the sensation, while for him...Well, it put him asleep, when you did that. 
The door creaked a little, and you abruptly turned your head towards it, ready to fight and...You instantly recognize your daughter, even in the dark of the room. 
She doesn’t need to talk. You manage to roll over Bruce, who then by instinct roll too, and therefor you create a little spot for your daughter to climb in bed with you. 
You turn around in Bruce’s arms, and slowly wrap them around your middle, instead of your shoulders. You turn towards Cass, your back against Bruce’s chest, and tap the small spot you managed to create next to you. 
Cass understands, and climbs in, facing you. She lays her head on her arms, as you do the same. And then she mouthes : 
“Sorry mom...” 
And that’s all you needed. You gesture for your daughter to cuddle up close, and she does. By instinct, Bruce lets go one arm off of you, and grabs his kid to bring her closer. He is still asleep, but it wouldn’t surprise anyone that his subconscious holds onto the two most important women in his life like so. 
And there she is. Cass feels safe. And warm. And she hears your heart beat softly. And she knows it partly beats for her. 
And partly for Bruce. And partly for Dick. And partly for Jason. And Tim. And Damian. And Duke. And Alfred. 
It beats for your family. 
For her family.
Family. 
She has a family. 
And you are her mom. 
Her biological father never hugged her, never told her everything was going to be alright, never... 
Cass never felt safe and warm. 
Like she did, right now, held by both you and Bruce. 
“Family...”
She whispers, as she slowly falls asleep. And you’re the only mom she ever wants to have. You are, her real mom. Always have been, always will be. 
DAMIAN 
Damian didn’t really think this was a big deal, at first. 
Just like his father, he often made the mistake to think that people around him will simply understand his true meaning. 
When he told you : “You’re not even my real mom !”, he obviously didn’t mean it. He was angry because you told him he couldn’t go out on patrol for a few days, as he was grounded for skipping school and going to work on cases instead. 
“But school is boring, I already know everything ??” 
“It’s the principle of it, Damian. You can’t just do what you want whenever you want, this is not how it works. I don’t feel like we’re extremely strict parents, so when you betray our trusts like that, it has consequences.”
Bruce kept out of the argument, ready to jump in however if you needed him to affirm  that yes, actions have consequences and although you two are pretty lax with your son on many fronts, he still has to listen. You and Bruce made clear rules when you first adopted Dick, because you realized your lifestyle was anything but normal, but it didn’t mean your children could just do anything they wanted. 
Neither of you wanted them to turn into privileged little brats. Or to think they were above everything. And you were right, by skipping school so much, and lying about it, Damian did betray your trust. 
Understanding actions had consequences was a big step that took a while, with Damian. Unfortunately, he grew up in an environment that indeed taught him he could do whatever he wanted, no matter if he hurt people on the way... 
Unlearning all this, was tough. And you understood that. Which is why you let things go a lot, with him, and only slowly told him about things. Gradually teaching him about your values and principles. 
However sometimes, like in this case, you needed to be firm and strict, because otherwise he’d just keep doing it knowing it had no bad consequences, and you didn’t want him to simply not go to school anymore...School was important for his social development, you realized it as he made friends and...
And simply, an eleven years old kid couldn’t just roam around all day as he saw fit. That’s it. And so here you were, trying to explain this to him. And that’s when he said it. 
He scrunched up his nose like he always did when he was angry, and then, turning his head away from you, throwing his Robin boots at the back of the cave. 
“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not even my real mom !” 
And then he bolted out of the Batcave, leaving you behind, with a broken heart and feeling guilty...What if he hates you, because you were too harsh on him ? 
Bruce, that night, did not go out on patrol either, and stayed with you. Of course, he did. 
************
The fact he still listened to you and didn’t go out, made him thought you knew he was just angry and didn’t mean a word of it. 
To him, it was so obvious he thought of you as his mom, and that he said this just because he wanted to have the last word, that he honestly didn’t think much of it. 
Sure he was frustrated and angry, just like any kid was when their parents said : “no” to them. But he didn't mean it... 
He didn’t really see you of the entire day. Finally, he decided to go see his father to ask him what was up. 
“Father ?”
“Yes ?”
“Is-is mom ok ?”
“Well, what do you think ?” 
“She doesn’t seem ok.” 
“Do you know why ?” 
“Did you do something to upset her ?” 
Normally, Bruce would feel vex at this statement. What, did he really do things to upset you that often ? Yes and now. Sometimes,  he would get on your nerve, and vice versa. It happened, in relationships.
But it was never anything major. Not anymore at least. Because now, when he had his “dark days” and could be a total jerk, you knew how to handle him. You knew not to take his bullshit. 
Yes. Normally, Bruce would pout like a child, at the fact his son thought that his mom was feeling down because of him. But not today. No. 
Because he knew that what made you sad, was something important.
Unfortunately, Damian inherited from him his bad habit of thinking others will understand his meaning. 
Like, when he tried to push you away at first so you wouldn't get involved in his crazy life, what he really wanted was for you to get closer...Or when he told you that he was fine at times, all he wanted was for you to hold him and take care of him etc etc...The first time he told you “I love you”, wasn’t with words, but by not going on patrol one night, to stay with you. And he thought you’d immediately understand that he truly loved you...Truth was, it wasn’t as obvious to you (or anyone really) than it was for him. 
And Damian had the same problem. Doing things that he thought would obviously tell his meaning, his real feelings, when really...No one but him would get it. 
Although you became quite good at deciphering your husband’s true intentions, you could still misinterpret things sometimes. 
And yesterday night, when you grounded your son and tried to teach him a life lesson...You definitely didn’t see that he didn’t mean what he said and just wanted the last word. For you, he was seriously meaning it. And that’s why you were avoiding him a little, because it was too hard to...to... 
Damian’s words truly hurt you. You often were scared he could never see you as his mom (even if he did call you mom now and clearly cared for you) because of how he grew up. You’d never give up on him, of course, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt when he pushed you away or pretended to not care... 
Damian thought it was obvious, that his actions actually reflected how much you meant to him. That without you, he’d be lost and honestly wouldn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t. 
But it wasn’t obvious. 
Bruce sighed, and then smiled : 
“Since when is she acting odd ?” 
“This morning. She didn’t kiss me goodbye when she went to work !”
It felt like such a serious issue to your boy, in that instant, that Bruce wished you were there to see his reaction. You’d instantly know he didn’t mean it, when he said you weren’t his mom... 
But you couldn’t quite face him. You didn’t really avoid him or try to hurt him by not saying goodbye. Of course not, you were an adult, and you definitely knew that doing to others what was done to you is pointless, and mean. And why hurt someone the same way they hurt you ? You’re no better than them uh... 
“Can you think of anything that might’ve upset her ?” 
“I spilled my milk a little, but cleaned it after. I didn’t let Alfred do it like last time. I woke up a minute late, too. Jason hasn’t called in two days, but he was there yesterday afternoon. Dick said she messed up her pumpkin soup but he was just joking and she knows. Tim fell asleep at the breakfast table. You clinging to her this morning apparently made her late, I heard Alfred say it. Um...Cass um...Cass didn’t do anything bad really...None of those things sound like it would upset her though ! She really looked sad this morning, not like herself at all !” 
Bruce couldn’t help but smile. It was pretty cute, how Damian often acted as if he didn’t care about anything, yet no details would ever go past him. Especially not when it came to his family. He always noticed, when one of them felt down in any way, and tried to help (in his own way). 
Hell, he probably woke Tim up and told him to sleep more and take care of himself. Called Jason and told him to call his mom. Scolded Dick to not make this kind of jokes again. 
This was just the Damian that was privy only to them. A sweet child, who unfortunately often had trouble expressing his true feelings. 
Just like his father. 
Damian would often brag about his siblings, and how awesome they were, to his friends (notably to Jon, who didn’t have any siblings). But he’d never tell them right in front of their face. 
Bruce tried to help Damian see what was wrong, and said : 
“What about last night ?” 
“Ugh ? What about last n-OH !” 
Damian replayed the events in his head, and remembered his anger and frustration. But most importantly...What he told his mom. 
“I have to find mom ! Where is she ?!” 
Damian looked absolutely panicked, which was quite unlike him. Bruce answered : 
“She’s at work, she had a meeting with her editor. She should be back soon, though.” 
And on that note, Damian ran out to do god knew what, as Bruce shook his head and...Well, he just knew things would turn out alright. 
************
Alfred almost fainted, when he saw Damian tear off his beautiful flowers from his garden. He almost ran out, and had a very “get off my lawn !” moment...up until he realized that the boy was probably doing this for a reason. 
Oh. Oh his poor lilies.  
Hopefully, this really was for a good reason. A very good one. One so good, that it would stop him from strangling his grandkid, hopefully...
************
When you came home, Damian was waiting for you at the front door. He had a bunch of lilies in his hands (that you were pretty sure were from Alfred’s precious garden) and he looked absolutely frantic. 
He ran to you, almost threw the flowers in your arms, and yelled : 
“I’M SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN IT !! YOU ARE MY REAL MOM ! I WAS JUST ANGRY ! I’M SORRY !!” 
You were a little confused as to why he was yelling, but before you could continue he took a drawing out of his pocket and added : 
“THIS IS A DRAWING OF YOU ! I MADE IT FOR YOU !! YOU ARE MY MOM ! YOU REALLY ARE ! PLEASE FORGIVE ME !! I’M SORRY !! DO NOT BE MAD AT ME !!” 
Still confused as to why he was screaming, you bend down to look at him eye level, settled the flowers on the floor, and said : 
“It’s ok Damian. It’s ok. We all get frustrated sometimes...I won’t lie and say it didn’t hurt, but it’s ok. It happens.” 
Damian’s face showed great relief, and he leaped into your arms, yelling : 
“I LOVE YOU !!” 
You winced as he screamed in your ear, and said : 
“Why are you yelling, little one ?” 
Damian took a step back from you and said : 
“BECAUSE I HAVE TROUBLE EXPRESSING MYSELF AND JASON TOLD ME THAT SAYING THINGS IN AN AGGRESSIVE WAY MIGHT HELP !! AND HE’S RIGHT !! I LOVE YOU !!”
Damian told you he loved you before, in certain moments. When he got really hurt, when you were really hurt, if he felt really sad...It was always a moment full of emotions. And it was still rather hard for him to say the words. 
It didn’t really surprise you that Jason would have such a technique. Yelling his feelings. Yep. Sounds like him alright. And it did seem like it worked for his little brother too. 
Only you and your close family would know, because you were the only ones to truly know him, but those two were more similar than others would think. And it wasn’t because they already killed before. Oh no. On the contrary. 
“I love you too, my little one...” 
You say, as he goes back for another hug, clearly relieved you’re not mad at him. From this day on, he swore to himself that he would really try to tell others’ what he truly felt, even if it meant yelling it at them. Because other wise...otherwise it’d create this sort of terrible situations, in which his mom thought he didn’t think of her as his mom ! 
He couldn’t have it, anymore. Many “I LOVE YOU !!” were heard in the Manor, from that point on. 
DUKE 
“You know you can tell me anything, right ?” 
Duke doesn’t know why this time, this made him snap. 
Today was the anniversary of when his parents got “jokerize”, it had been two years already...And not one step closer to cure them ! He was so frustrated, sad, and lost. And you noticed. 
Duke tend to try to keep things inside. Not that he didn’t want to bother anyone, more like he just thought he HAD to handle things himself. Like it would make him stronger, and therefor, he could protect those he cares about. 
He could protect them, unlike when he could do nothing but watch as his parents fell into madness...He couldn’t bear the thought of this happening to you, Bruce, or any member of this family ! Not again. 
He couldn’t bear it...
“You’re not even my mom ! Stop acting like you are !” 
Are the words he heard himself scream at you as you asked him if everything was ok, and if he needed to talk. As you were caring, once again, and he just couldn’t...he couldn’t stand it ! Not today.
Not today. 
He immediately saw on your face the way you shut down, and took one step behind. The way your face “closed”, and as you said : “I understand.” and left the room, your body stiff and your face inexpressive (which was very unlike you), Duke felt it. 
The guilt. 
Right away.
When those dreaded words were said by all your other kids, they were young. They were all under the age of ten, and the immediate consequences of their actions didn’t truly registered. 
But Duke. 
Duke was almost eighteen. And he knew. He knew he hurt you. 
He felt the need to run after you and apologized, but there was something stopping him. 
After all, it was true right, you weren’t his mom ! His mom was still alive, and she could be cured one day ! HE ALREADY HAVE A MOM ! 
So what if you always cooked him his favorite meal, or knew exactly what his favorite food was ? So what if you would go out of your way to grab his favorite burger from his favorite joints when you knew he felt down ? 
So what, if you were always there when he was sad ? Cheering him up with comfort food, kind words, and just your presence ? 
So what if you knew exactly what would make him feel better, which movie to put on to put a smile on his face ? 
So what, if you spend entire night right by his bedside when he got really hurt, or when he was sick ? 
So what if you’d listen to him at any time of the day or night, and always took time to give him your thoughts on the matter, and truly, truly listen to what he was saying instead of waiting for your turn to speak ? 
So what if you’d make him laugh, smile, feel loved, even as he felt so alone and isolated, especially after he discovered his powers ? 
So what if you never made him feel like he was different because of it ? 
So what if you opened your house’s door without a second thought for this unknown teenager who was also a meta ?!
So what...so what...so what if you obviously cared a lot, and if you...if you... 
He already had a mom. And she might get better one day. 
He couldn’t have two moms. 
...
...
Right ? 
What would happen when his parents would be cured ? Forget all his feelings for the Waynes ? So it’d be easier to pretend he wasn’t part of the family, right ? 
It would be easier. 
Yes. 
But it was too late. 
It was too late... 
He ran after you. Caught up with you in the corridor. Tears in his eyes, he said : 
“I’m sorry, please don’t go...”
And fell into your arms. Almost eighteen years old, yes, but still needed the support of a mother. Of his mother. 
And you were there. You’d always be there, no matter what happened in the future. And he needed you, especially in that moment of frustration, where he really missed his parents, and was starting to lose hope to ever find a cure... 
And you were there.
Who ever made a rule that you could have only one mom anyway, right ?
BRUCE 
They did tell him “you’re not my dad !” too. And for him, it was as terrible as for you. If not worst, on certain aspect. Especially since he had a hard times truly expressing his feelings more often than not. 
He knows how devastating it can feel. He knows it even more, because not only did he feel it as they told him “you’re not my dad !”, but he also felt it as he told Alfred “you’re not my dad !”. He knew the feelings from both sides. 
It enhanced everything. 
Of course, in general, Bruce always felt things more than anyone else around him. He was born like that. Hypersensitive. That’s why he worked so much on hiding his true feelings, and appearing detached and cold. 
It’s much easier, than to always being overemotional. Of course, it didn’t mean he felt nothing. On the contrary, he felt everything. He was just better, nowadays, at pretending he was okay. At pretending he didn’t care. 
Ah. But you existed. 
You. 
The only person that could always see through his bullshit, and know when he was lying and fake smiling. 
Between the two of you, there has always been something. Even before you were together. It was an irrational and irresistible attraction. 
An unbreakable bond. Always supporting each others. 
You have no idea how you’d live without him. And he couldn’t even fathom a world without you. It’s a world he wouldn’t like very much...  
Even during the worst times, and oh you went through a lot together, you knew at least...at least you’d have warm arms to fall asleep in. At least, you’d have each others. 
Bruce had known pain so strong he sometimes wished death would just take him away. And then you came in. Ready to put up with his shit, and to not give up on him even when he gave you every reason to. 
And oh, oh he gave you back everything times a thousand. You knew he’d never let you fall. Not alone. 
Whenever something hurtful as your children telling you two you weren’t their real parents happened...It’s when you truly realized how vital you were to each others. 
When you fell, Bruce was there to catch you. 
When he fell, you were there to catch him. 
Better to fall together, than to stand alone. 
__________________________________________________
And here we are :). I hope you liked it ? Don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback and reblog if you want to ^^. I’m a little afraid I disappointed y’all for some reasons haha. I couldn’t explain. Self-confidence crisis hahaha. I finished writing that late, and exhausted after a hard week, maybe it plays into account ? Anyway, I really do hope you enjoyed your time reading this :). And thanks for reading, of course ^^. 
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Text
The American Initiative (Finale)
Part Fifteen
Summary: Grace Cleveland and Eleanor Baker both thought their lives were over, until they became part of something much bigger – the Avengers. Pairing(s): Clint Barton x OFC, Steve Rogers x OFC Word Count: 1893 Blanket Warnings: Death, mentioned a couple of different ways, but not detailed; canon divergence; more based on Marvel movies. In the infamous word of Steve Rogers, “Language.” A/N: Yes, you read that correctly -- this is the last part of this fic! Thank you to everyone who has read it and loved it. Special thanks to my Marvel consultant, resident sounding board, and all around bestie @captain-s-rogers​. You guys don’t know how much this story wouldn’t be a thing if it wasn’t for her! 
Now the question is, should I do a sequel? Hmm, maybe read this first, then let me know ;)
Masterlist Wanna be tagged?
Even just the brief lowdown Tony gave Bruce before they returned to the lab was too long for Grace’s safety. When they walked in, Joel had one bloody -- but healing -- arm around Grace. With his free arm, he was injecting some serum into Grace’s neck.
Bruce took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders back; Tony could see that things were going to escalate very quickly. No matter how much Bruce hated the green guy, Tony’s first priority was Grace.
“Bruce,” Tony said quietly, catching eyes with the other man, who was already turning shades of green, “big guy on big guy, yeah? I’ll get Gracie.”
Bruce nodded and a few seconds later, the Hulk was there, letting out a shouting growl. Joel looked up from Grace’s still form, now aware of the company in the lab. He began to change to match Bruce’s size, tossing the needle to the side and laying Grace on the floor. Joel challenged Hulk with a growl in return, immediately going for the first swing as he lunged at the Hulk.
Tony slid across the well-waxed floor like he was sliding into home plate. He ended up at Grace’s side, pulling her away from the two giants fighting for control of the situation.
“Jarvis, a suit -- like, now, please!”
As Joel and Hulk continued to wrestle around, Tony hovered over Grace’s body, shielding her from being hurt by the two of them. The suit arrived none too soon and once he was clicked in, Tony picked Grace up and crashed up and out of the lab, just ahead of Joel and Hulk crashing into the main floor of the house. The growling and yelling and crashing continued while Tony tried to think fast of what to do with Grace. He didn’t want to abandon Bruce, but Grace wasn’t even conscious.
“Tony, we’re outside,” Nat announced via his earpiece, “if you can, get Grace and get outta there.”
“I’ve got her, we’re coming out,” Tony replied, heading outside. “She was injected with something, I don’t know what.”
The quinjet was waiting for them, hovering just above the ground with Nat at the helm. The jet bridge lowered; Steve, Clint, Thor, and Ellie were there, at the ready and on guard. Tony passed Grace off to Clint, who got her secured in the jet and notified medical that they would need assistance soon.
“I’ve got her Clint, you go,” Nat encouraged, already preparing to do a body scan with the technology they did have aboard the jet. “I’ll get her back to the compound, they’ll start working on her right away.”
“I wanna stay.”
Nat squeezed his shoulder. “Clint. If you don’t go and kick this guy’s ass, you’re never going to forgive yourself. Go.”
Clint took one more lingering glance at Grace. She was in good hands with Natasha, but he couldn’t stop the nagging need to tell her goodbye, just in case. He kissed her forehead, pursed his lips, and headed in to join the fight.
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Hulk had managed to get Joel back on the defensive, but it was going to take the whole team to take Joel down for the last, final time.
“Whatever we throw at him, he gets back up,” Clint noted, slinging taser arrows one after the other, with little to no effect on the man.
Ellie, face to face with Joel at the moment, faked him out the way she had done to Steve a couple of months before when they were sparring. Joel lunged for her but fell on his face. Thor was right there with the mjolnir, swinging the hammer in an upper-cut motion to throw Joel backwards. Joel flew against a wall, crashed through it, and slumped on the floor. He worked to push himself up, but was unable to get back on his feet. The team assembled in front of him, on guard and ready to fight more.
“I know about all of you, you know,” Joel sputtered, spitting blood and a tooth that had come loose. “I know about the hawk, who gave Grace confidence in herself again. She ran right to you when she came back from me, didn’t she? Did she tell you what I did to her? How do you feel, knowing that I touched her, that I kissed her?”
Clint’s jaw set hard. He absolutely hated the way thinking of those things made him feel, but he knew that Joel was playing mind games. Every fiber in him wanted to put an arrow, a real one, right between Joel’s eyes.
“Then there’s the Iron Man,” Joel continued, managing to sit up, his legs stretched out in front of him. His size was decreasing by the second. “What’s your deal with her? The daughter you never had? Maybe some inappropriate feelings?”
Tony’s chin lifted, and his chest puffed out. It wasn’t often that he cared about someone other than himself, but when he did, he cared deeply. What he didn’t care for was this dumb son of a bitch cheapening his emotions towards Grace. He held his hand out, repulsor glowing and ready to fire.
“And let’s not forget the pathetic excuse for an enhanced that Grace believes is some kind of sister now,” Joel continued, spitting in Ellie’s direction. “Pathetic is being generous, by the way. I mean, truly, what kind of tragic, self-deprecating martyrdom are you trying to achieve, Eleanor? You have a daughter who lost both of her parents, unexpectedly. She could have a mother, and yet you let her live her life without you. You’re here instead, trying to find some sort of purpose when --”
Steve had watched Ellie’s confidence waver as Joel’s speech went on. Rather than stand strong, Ellie was back away, and her eyes were brimming with tears. Joel had delivered a particularly low blow, bringing her daughter into the picture. Unable to watch anymore, Steve had taken one good shot at Joel with his shield, stopping the monologue.
Joel’s face went from sardonic amusement to an evil, angry scowl. He made to get up again, his size increasing and decreasing as he worked up the change to take advantage of his enhancements. The team stood strong, though Steve did tuck Ellie behind him in an effort to cover for her sudden uncertainty.
As Joel began to heave for breath, Clint took his shot. An electrically-charged arrow sailed into Joel’s chest, knocking him back on his ass. The other man’s eyes went wide, gripping his chest, scratching at his ribcage and his throat as he struggled to take a breath. His eyes became bloodshot and his lips started to turn blue. The panting became wheezing, fewer and farther in between, until Joel’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell to the floor.
Cautiously, Steve stepped forward to check Joel’s pulse. He looked behind him at the team and shook his head.
“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Tony sighed. The repulsor went dark and his arm was again at his side.
“We don’t know if the enhancements will bring him back,” Thor commented. “We need to get him back to the compound where he can be monitored until we know for sure.”
Everyone agreed. They radioed for transport, with Nat promising that she was already returning with the quinjet.
“ETA three minutes,” she informed.
As they all worked to come down from the fight, Steve put a hand on Ellie’s arm. “You all right?”
Ellie nodded, but refused to meet eyes with him. Thor had Joel’s body thrown over his shoulder, and as the others followed the Asgardian out to the front, Ellie fell in line, Steve behind her.
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Joel was dead -- really dead. He was monitored until the decomposition process began, at which time S.H.I.E.L.D took care of things. The crisis was over, but there was always another one on the horizon. For most of them, life went on as it had before Ellie, Grace, and Joel came into their lives.
Tony was staying at the compound for the time being, while his house was repaired. He could have stayed at home, but then he would have been much further from Grace than he preferred to be at the moment.
In contrast, Clint made himself as busy as possible so that he didn’t have time to see Grace. He took every mission possible and trained in the meantime. The only person he would speak to outside of missions was Natasha, but not even she could convince him to see Grace, or talk about his feelings in regard to that situation.
Ellie had barely left Grace’s side since they had returned with Joel’s body. Day and night, she was with her friend, waiting for whatever was going to happen next -- until she made a decision and knew that Grace was simply going to have to be okay without her.
Steve found Ellie next to Grace’s bedside. Grace was breathing on her own -- in fact all of her organs were functioning normal. There was an IV in the back of Grace’s hand, to keep fluids and nutrition going into her system, wires monitoring her heart, and electrodes attached at various places over her head to monitor her brain activity. That was the only organ not functioning normally; per the EKG, Grace’s brain was actually functioning almost twice as much as it had before.
Despite all of that, nothing and no one had been able to wake her up since Joel had injected her with the unknown serum.
“You leaving isn’t gonna wake her up, Elle,” Steve said, standing next to Ellie with his hands in his pockets.
Ellie nodded. “I know, but me staying isn’t going to wake her up, either. And I think Grace would want me to do what’s best for me -- now more than ever.”
“You think?”
“I still can’t read her. I see the lines on the monitor, her brain is working. But I get nothing.” Ellie took a deep breath. “Gracie has to take care of herself, and I have to take care of myself. I don’t want to say Joel was right, necessarily, but he had a point. I can stay here and be a hero and let my daughter see me on a new report one day, or I can go there and face up to my whole family and see if they’ll have me back.”
Steve licked his lips and nodded. “And what about us?”
Ellie took her time answering. “There’s not an us, Steve. I know what we’ve both been feeling, I know that I kissed you. But I can’t think about any of that now -- and I certainly can’t put it ahead of my family.”
“Okay.” Steve nodded. He put an arm around her waist and kissed her temple. “I wish you the best, Ellie. You know where to find us -- to find me -- if you need anything.”
She wanted to reach out for him, to ask him to go with her. For the first time since she had been brought back to life, though, Ellie was confident that she could face this on her own -- that she needed to face this on her own.
Ellie took one more glance at Grace, squeezed her friend’s hand, then adjusted her bag strap on her shoulder, and turned to leave the Avengers compound.
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Tags: @captain-s-rogers​​​​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​​​​ @xtina2191​​​​ @shynara51​​​​
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fyeahwonderbat · 7 years
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Prompt: Diana doesn't know she's pregnant & goes into a mission which doesn't turn out so good at the end (looses the baby). Diana is heartbroken as well as Bruce, but he does everything to remind her that it isn't her fault
(I made it so she was already pregnant because I felt it was emotionally solid to work with, I hope that’s okay! This idea just came to me and I ran with it!)
Note: This story might be too intense for some readers, as it pertains to miscarriage, so please be advised, moving forward. Thank you.
“A son!?”
“We are Amazons – we are women, mightier and more just than any man!”
“Your son is an abomination worthy of an eternity at Hades’ side! Who are you supposed to be, Persephone?”
“We are not blinded by love like Hippolyta is! We won’t tolerate you dirtying our legacy with your bastard child!”
“Forget your truce. We want war if it means ridding the world of your—”
The force with which Diana threw herself forward nearly tipped her hospital bed forward, nearly toppling the machines she was hooked up to when she threw a fist through the air. Suddenly remembering how to breathe, she inhaled deeply into her lungs but felt the air disintegrate as soon as she thought she had grasped enough. Her well-trained mind in terms of relief efforts and trauma warned her that she was verging on a panic attack due to a mere nightmare, until—
“Diana.” Unsteady in his voice was Bruce Wayne, not the fearsome Batman who would have addressed her firmly and emotionless. His presence at her side felt suffocating. Diana searched the eerily white room, pure and clean and empty of any sort of emotional depth, for anything she could tether herself to as she avoided his partner’s gaze. There was nothing but machines that beeped and tiles without cracks and itchy sheets covering her uncomfortable body…
Her body…
“Bruce,” Stare fixed on the door, waiting for someone to intrude and preparing to strike, Diana demanded to know, “where are we?”
There was a millisecond pause that irritated Wonder Woman’s already aggravated sensibility. Finally, when he did answer her, the Batman was the one who spoke, “Amanda Waller arranged this for you. This is the best facility in the country—”
“Bruce.” She was not to be trifled with, to be treated so delicately. Whether her emotions were flashing across her face as sickeningly as they twisted in her stomach, Diana Prince was not one for pity nor careful handling.
Once more, there was an awkward awareness that the conversation was not keeping up with a natural pace. This time, she met his gaze to hopefully demonstrate her anger with his choice to treat her like a victim.
Like someone who would needed time to heal.
Like someone who might have lost themselves due to someone else’s transgression.
“We are at a private facility, operated by the government,” Clarified Bruce. His thick brows shadowed his own dark eyes and Diana wondered if he was merely offering her a reflection of her own expression. “I brought you here after we escaped Bana-Mighdall.”
Her throat tighten until she needed to cough, but Diana refused. Instead, she gulped once to wash away the internal itch and then repeated him with venom dripping from her tongue, “Bana-Mighdall…”
“Yes.” Was all Bruce managed to say. She could hear the way he swallowed the word instead of releasing it into the room, and the sound alone of the Dark Knight struggling to speak managed to be the moment in which Wonder Woman lost control of her façade – the only time she felt as though she was truly falsifying her strength – and let her mouth fall open.
“Then… Then…”
“Yes.” He answered her again, the word sounding just as horrible as the first time.
Bile threatened to escape her, her honed muscles shaking without any semblance of control, Diana muttered the reality she had been so fearful of accepting as truth, despite being a defendant of such a virtue, “We lost him.”
It was in that exact moment, when she uttered the word ‘lost’, that her warrior’s heart crumbled inside of her chest. There was no desire to fight, to destroy or seek vengeance. There was no need to think beyond herself in that moment, when the reality of her barren belly dropped upon her as if she was Atlas carrying the world. There was no need to be anything more than a woman mourning her child.
A mother who lost her son.
A parent who would never be one.
“O-Oh…” She wanted to cry to Hera, but the feeling of becoming sick overwhelmed her and she threw a hand over her quivering lips. Her body lurched once, twice when her sobs began before her tears welled in her eyes. Her entire being was nothing more than the embodiment of grief as she folded into herself and wished she could take it all back.
Trying to mend the bond between Antiope’s tribe of Amazons with her mothers.
Believing that the promise of her own child could be a beacon towards a peaceful future.
Forgetting how uneducated the Bana-Mighdall tribe was in comparison to Themyscira.
To know that her own sisters had murdered her child only made her feel emptier. She could recall the impact of their sandaled feet, their hateful fists, she could still see their purposeful swings of their swords, aimed at her torso despite the fact that she was armed with her sacred girdle. The irreconcilable hatred they displayed towards her as she fought them on her own was nothing new and yet it tore her apart; they hadn’t lessened their charge in the slightest, even when the rest of the Justice League members arrived.
If anything, the appearance of the League more than likely made the women of Bana-Mighdall behave more like furies than Amazons.
How could they, she wondered over and over inside her mind while feeling crushed by every sort of pain she thought she could conquer. Bones aching, heart broken, womb throbbing—
Nervous though she was, Diana reached for the uncomfortable blankets that covered her body. However, a strong hand grabbed her own and held her still. “Don’t.” Warned Bruce, the word wobbling as he said it.
That was all she needed to hear, to know how truly awful the damage was.
“W-Where is he?” She needed to know, to have some kind of semblance of understanding of what had happened while she had been unconscious, useless.
“We have him,” Bruce promised. “When we weren’t sure if the government would hand him over to us, Barry stole him back and brought him to Alfred.”
The shuddering of breath she experienced hurt her swollen throat. How violent they had gotten, just so she could keep the remains of her own child!? The government was supposed to save her somehow and yet they had attempted to…take her son’s corpse!? For studying!? For mutilating and reconstructing to suit their selfish needs!?
“Then that is where I want to be.”
“Diana, you need to—”
“I need to be with my son!” She exclaimed directly into Bruce’s face. Though she was a mother no more, her instincts were still wild. After all, even if her son was no longer breathing, she was still meant to protect him with everything she had!
Unfortunately, her son’s father did not agree. “You nearly died, Diana! The BatCave has everything but the experience required to save an Amazon from a miscarriage!”
The reaction was instantaneous: Diana punched Bruce so hard across the face, he flew across the perfectly white room and added some texture to it when he slammed into the wall. The crater-like hole his body made signified just how sturdy the room was and it infuriated her further. She felt like an animal in a cage rather than a woman being treated by expert physicians. And to see that Bruce was going along with it…!
With unmanageable impatience did she rip out every needle in her arm, sending the machines in the room into a frenzy. As soon as Diana swung her legs over the edge of the bed, she felt the thorny scar that stretched across her pelvis, but it would not stall her. “Where are my clothes?” She asked her once competent lover while turning to the nightstand next to her bed and pulling the drawers out of their slots.
“Diana, stop!” Bruce commanded while wincing. He tried to stand up straight as quickly as the situation required but the ache he obviously felt in his back was destabilizing. It did not bring Diana any comfort to see him teetering towards her while a swollen cheek.
Nevertheless, she would not be told to halt.
“I’m leaving, Bruce, whether you are with me or not.”
“Y-You don’t…have to do this!”
“Yes, I do! I won’t let anyone else touch my son without—”
“He’s OUR son!” The snap in his voice struck Diana without remorse. It was almost removed, unattached to her in its meaning when he claimed partially ownership over their deceased child. So heated was he that his typical unshaven state only made him look even more sinister, even more unforgiving as he stared her down, pining her to the spot.
The machines continued to beep incessantly throughout their silence. They sounded just as panicked to be disconnected from her as she was, feeling cut off from him emotionally. Ever the caretaker of others in need, she had been so consumed by her pain – both physical and emotional – to even bother paying attention to her own partner, her lover, her Bruce. Seeing him in such a light once again only reminded Diana that she had destroyed not only her own happiness, but his as well, by trying to broker peace that no one had directly asked for.
How could he even stomach sitting by her bedside, after all she had taken from him?
“Bruce…” There were words floating around inside her mind, yet a coherent thought could not be found amongst them.
Straightening his posture, Bruce divulged himself to her, “He’s our son, Diana. I got him back for us; I want to take you home to see him as soon as you can. But don’t make this worse than it already is by losing yourself to your pain! I’ve been waiting hours just to hold you, not fight with you like this!”
The door to their private hospital suite rattled then, warning them both of a third enemy that they had apparently forgotten: the security detail Amanda Waller had placed on standby. A loud set of knocks were nowhere near as mighty as Diana’s own fists, however, they did rattle the room ever so slightly. Thankfully, the obvious sigil of the Batman sat atop of some strange device resting on the doorknob that kept the room safe from any intruders, she could only assume.
“Diana,” That hollow voice of his summoned her attention once again.
She faced the Batman with every intention of standing strong. “Bruce…”
A muffled warning could not compare to the power of her lover’s actions as he approached her without caution, without fear of being struck again. By her fists, at the very least. “You are much too kind to the woman who lost your son.” Diana almost hiccupped on the final word. Now that the flames of her anger were cooling, the frigid touch of reality clawed at the walls she had built out of necessity around her heart, preparing to obliterate her once again.
But then, Bruce Wayne took her hand and held it with a strength she had no idea she was craving. Just as powerful as his grip were the words that he spoke, “I’m taking care of the mother of my child.”
To hear him speak of their son as she thought of him – theirs, forever their first despite his unfortunate passing – was absolutely too much for the grieving mother to take. All she wanted to do was bury her face in his chest and seek comfort in the one person who would constantly remind her of the child they lost, yet simultaneously, be the only person who could possibly understand her pain. It was unlike Wonder Woman to fall so easily.
To collapse into despair.
To lose to her own heart.
But as she let Bruce’s arms form a barricade around her as he released the lock and let the cautionary SWAT team into the room, all Diana wanted to do was allow herself this one moment of weakness and wallow in her weakness, her emotions, her despair.
((A/N: A really dark one here, after Valentine’s Day and right before Family Day (I’m Canadian, in case my grammar didn’t give that away for me)! I never named their son nor stated his age when he was miscarried because it seemed irrelevant – the loss was still a loss to them. I also tried to make Diana hold onto her nature for as long as she could while grieving, but as I have seen up close, grief can take what you know about yourself and twist it on its head. The same goes for Bruce, who remained as reserved as possible and ended up being her caretaker until he nearly became cruel. I meant to tie this into an idea for Diana earning the right to bear a child by the gods, but since I was already referencing Antiope’s Amazons, I figured too much lore would take away from the emotions. Anyway, thanks for the prompt, and feel free to prompt me again! ~ Maiden))
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