#because they removed a special connection that tim had with dick

[kitocrystal]

I'm tired.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - IX

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 2,800+

Warning: Violence, Mentions of past domestic abuse

Previously on…

A WEEK LATER...

Of course it had to be raining the night they needed to execute their plan. 

Y/N didn’t know if she was shaking because she was freezing or because she was so nervous. Even with all the layers and her knit hat, she couldn’t seem to warm up.

Y/N had been walking around for half an hour. They’d mapped out her route so her face would get picked up by as many street cameras as possible. If The Court was as sinister as rumored, they’d be watching.

“Scratch your nose if you’re doing alright,” Dick said in Y/N’s ear.

The whole family had explained how imperative it was for Y/N not to speak. They had to assume that Y/N was being watched the moment she left the manor. And if her lips moved, the Talons would know something was up.

So Y/N scratched her nose and looked over her shoulder suspiciously, just like they had talked about.

“Remember: you want out at any moment, just press the distress button on your watch,” Dick added for good measure.

Y/N wanted to roll her eyes at his worry and overprotectiveness, and say, ‘I know. I know.’ But she knew better than that.

“Someone’s tracking her,” Jason spoke up in the comms. “Civilian clothing.”

Jason started calling out the identifiers to his family, and in 30 seconds everyone spotted the man that was tailing Y/N.

But this was all part of the plan.

“I still don’t like this,” Dick muttered to his family, making sure he cut Y/N’s connection off so she didn’t hear his nervousness.

“’Course you are. We’re throwing your girlfriend to the wolves,” Jason commented.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Dick muttered with annoyance.

“Focus,” Bruce chimed in for the first time.

“She’s stuck to the route we gave her,” Tim commented. “All well-lit and crowded with people. They won’t make a scene with this many witnesses.”

The family moved across rooftops, following Y/N’s path from their designated points.

Dick and Bruce both hated this plan, but they were handling it in different ways.

Bruce had become almost mute with focus. He didn’t want a single thing to slip past him. His senses were acute as ever. He was barely communicating with them because he was too busy keeping an eye on Y/N. His eyes hadn’t stopping shooting around, making sure to cover all angles.

“She’s entering the warehouse,” Damian announced.

Everyone shifted their focus and made their moves.

Y/N stopped at the computers she had set up. Or really that Bruce had hired men to set up for her.

She started typing away rapidly, not sure how much time she’d have before deadly ninjas would start dropping on her.

With one final slam of a key, she let out a shallow breath. “Signal’s been sent out. We’re live.”

“Nice!” Tim answered.

Jason started to chime in, but suddenly his voice became crackly and then the line went silent.

“Red Hood?” Y/N asked.

Nothing.

“Anyone read?”

Nothing.

Y/N felt a chill go up her spine.

She whipped around to find three Talons awaiting her attention.

Y/N quickly took a step back and pressed the panic button on her watch. She hoped The Court hadn’t somehow intercepted that signal as well.

“You were lucky with our last encounter,” a Talon stepped forward to speak.

Y/N ignored him and took out both of the guns that had been hiding in her trench coat.

He laughed at the weapons. “Have we not already tried this?”

“At least I’m not a coward hiding behind a mask. Won’t even let me see the faces of the idiots who want to kill me?”

They all ignored her attempt to get them to unmask themselves, but started stepping toward her. “Not want. We will kill you this time.”

But before Y/N could answer or the Talons could get any closer, a smoke bomb was dropped in the space between her and her enemy.

Just as it erupted, Dick dropped down from the bannister above and shoved a gas mask over Y/N’s face.

This wasn’t just any usual gas bomb that Batman and the family used as a distraction. No, this was a special formula designed to burn eyes and cause coughing fits.

One thing was made quite clear, the Talon’s masks were not used to protect them from such attacks. They were meant to hide their identity and nothing else.

Y/N smirked when she heard the sudden coughing and groans of pain. They weren’t muffled by fabric, meaning they had no choice but to remove their masks.

“Stay back,” Dick warned her before lightly pushing her behind a pillar as the smoke bomb started to settle.

Barely giving them a chance, Dick attacked the weakened Talons.

But now the three of them were unmasked. Their eyes were burned red and watery with tears.

And their faces were exposed. 

Y/N’s stomach dropped as she saw Dick flip to them and attack.

But she had a job to do and started tapping away on the high-tech watch around her wrist. She was walking backwards, staying away from the fight, just as Dick had instructed. 

But then she backed into a body.

“Fuck,” Y/N muttered as she froze and her eyes widened in panic.

She whipped around to find a Talon with his sword drawn.

Then other blurs were dropping down from the banisters, more were joining the fight.

Y/N reached for both of her guns and was ready to start firing – despite that not benefiting her in the slightest bit last time.

But before she could take even one shot, someone dropped in front of her protectively.

Bruce was a like a wall of shadow, blocking Y/N from the enemy.

“Run, Y/N.” He demanded without breaking eye contact with his opponent.

She knew better than to fight him on it. This was what they had agreed upon: Y/N was to be used as bait and do her job, then get the hell out.

“No matter what you hear or see, you run like hell,” Dick had told her. His eyes had been desperate and his grip on her shoulders had been tight. Y/N hadn’t been able to find it in her to do anything but give a slow nod.

Barely a second passed after Bruce’s warning before multiple Talons were on him. But Bruce was a worthy opponent and was able to distract them enough for Y/N to get away.

She ran for the nearest exit.

But the warehouse was now crawling with Talons.

Two more blocked her path, making her screech to a stop and turn around, facing Jason.

“Get down,” he told her calmly as he raised two guns.

She dove to the ground and covered her ears as Jason cleared out his ammo.

Without waiting for further instruct, Y/N jumped back onto her feet and tried to find the least chaotic route out.

Tim was using his bow staff almost like a windmill, taking out multiple Talons at a time with just a simple swing.

Y/N looked across the warehouse to see Damian and Dick fighting alongside each other. Despite Damian’s capabilities, Dick couldn’t help but look out for the boy, and he was never far from his side during a fight.

Damian slashed down opponent after opponent with his Katana sword. Meanwhile, Dick had the boy’s back, using his escrima sticks and countless acrobatic kicks and flips.

They were all holding their own, which further urged Y/N to get out of the way.

‘Run, Y/N. Run!’ Her brain screamed at her.

She spotted her opening and sprinted for it.

With only a few yards to go, Y/N felt a sting in the back of her leg.

No.

It was more than a sting. It was a lightning strike of pain that threw her to the floor.

As she sat up, Y/N looked up to see that a knife had clattered to the floor with blood staining it. Her blood.

Then she looked at the back of her thigh to see that she was bleeding from an open wound. It could’ve been worse. The knife could’ve embedded into her muscle and flesh. But she had gotten away with a graze – but one that brought her to the ground.

It all happened so quickly.

One moment Y/N was looking at the blood dripping from her leg. And the next, there was a Talon standing above her – unmasked – with his sword about to swing down on her.

Y/N winced and shielded herself as best as she could. But there was no saving her from such a blade – and a blade wielded by a Talon of The Court.

Just when Y/N thought she’d feel the sword strike her, a presence flew between them.

Y/N opened her eyes when she heard the sound of metal clashing with metal.

Bruce’s forearms were crossed into an X, with his gauntlets intercepting the Talon’s sword swing.

Y/N crawled back to get out of the way, ignoring the screaming pain from her leg.

All she could do was watch as Bruce now fought the Talon one on one. They wielded two katana swords – one in each hand.

Meanwhile, Bruce was using his gauntlets and therefore could really only be on the defense.

It was clear that he was trying to disarm them and make the fight even.

Eventually, through many complicated maneuvers, Bruce knocked one of the swords out of the Talon’s grip. He picked it up.

Y/N didn’t know why it was so surprising to see Bruce wield a katana. Of course he had been trained in sword fighting. That just wasn’t his chosen weapon. It didn’t stop her from being amazed by his skill with the blade. 

But Bruce was getting tired. Y/N could see it.

His movements were still quick, but they had slowed since the beginning of this particular fight.

Y/N managed to clench her teeth and fight through the pain of her leg, slowly bringing herself to a standing position.

But just as she did so, Bruce’s sword was knocked clear out of his hands and the Talon followed it with a kick to Bruce’s abdomen and a punch to his face.

Y/N’s stomach dropped at seeing the infamous Batman get knocked to the ground.

Of all the footage she’d seen, Batman always seemed to have the upper hand. She never doubted that he was going to win a fight – and he was going to do so without killing the enemy, which as always impressive.

“Get up, get up,” Y/N hissed to herself as she watched Bruce struggle to get back on his feet.

“So much time spent protecting her,” the Talon patronized. “Such a waste.”

He landed yet another punch across Bruce’s face. A punch that was harder than anything Y/N had seen before. 

And it knocked Bruce out cold.

Y/N felt it – the death in the air.

Time seemed to slow.

She was about to watch Batman get slaughtered right in front of her.

Her eyes raced around her, looking for one of the boys to call for help or anything that could be used as a distraction. But Dick and Damian were suddenly being overpowered. Tim wasn’t even in Y/N’s eyesight. And Jason was failing to shoot every Talon that surrounded him.

Then Y/N saw the katana that had been ripped from Bruce’s grip. It lay just a foot away from her.

Without thinking, Y/N picked it up.

She lunged forward just as the Talon was bringing his sword down to finish Bruce.

With just an inch away from his victim, Y/N’s sword intercepted the final attack.

The Talon gaze whipped to her. And Bruce was oblivious to his life being saved.

Y/N’s eyes widened, realizing she acted without any sort of plan. And now she had the Talon’s full attention and she had no clue how to wield a sword of any kind – or how to physically offend herself to any degree. 

“You have been a nuisance long enough,” the Talon growled.

“Oh, but I’m not even done yet,” Y/N smirked wickedly.

He tilted his head to the side, choosing to amuse her instead of strike her down immediately.

“You really think I can hack the oldest and most powerful secret, but not every major news network in the country?” She asked offensively.

But then she smiled and tapped a button on her watch.

The screens in the warehouse flickered to life and their volume was turned all the way up.

Everyone ceased their fighting.

Each screen showed that every network was hacked, their signals interrupted with Y/N’s own broadcast.

It was live footage from inside the top secret base for The Court of Owls. All of its members were unmasked, either being gathered by FBI and Gotham PD or pinned to the floor, getting handcuffed.

“That’s not possible,” the Talon gasped.

Y/N tapped her watch and a tiny drone, almost the size of a bumblebee zoomed in front of his face. Then his face was being broadcasted across the world.

“Say hello to America, Calvin Rose,” Y/N announced as her face-recognition system instantly identified him and his name appeared on her watch.

Then the camera moved to another unmasked Talon in the warehouse. “William Cobb,” Y/N announced, adding his name to the screen when he appeared.

As her footage was live-streaming on all major networks, the names of each member were appearing on the screen as well.

Calvin Rose screamed in frustration. 

“Detonate the bomb!” He yelled to his men.

“You mean the bomb you first threatened me with?” Y/N cooed.

He whipped back around to glare at her, not understanding her meaning.

“You really think we wouldn’t be able to find it? After you gave us weeks to track it down?” She teased. “The bomb is in the possession of the FBI, safely neutralized. But not before I helped them reverse trace a signal back to the detonator.”

They knew they lost. But they had not only lost, they had been discovered.

There would be no recovering from such exposure.

And Y/N hadn’t even told them about all the evidence she had stored that tied The Court of Owls to every corrupt act they had performed in the last 20 years.

Sirens suddenly blared in the distance.

All the boys had stopped to look at Y/N, realizing that their plan was coming together.

“You lost,” Y/N declared as she lowered the sword to her side. “And they’re coming for you, too.”

That was finally what set him off.

He growled before stomping to her.

Y/N was surprised by this new attack and quickly stepped backwards, but not nearly fast enough. 

In one motion, he grabbed Y/N by the neck with one hand, lifting her off the ground with his sheer strength and rage.

Not a second later, he shoved his sword into her abdomen.

It seemed like the sound of metal cutting flesh and muscle echoed through the entire warehouse.

“No!” Dick screamed shoving his way across the warehouse to get to her.

In the same moment, Y/N was dropped to the ground like a rag doll.

Chaos had erupted around her, a new fight had begun. But she heard none of it.

Her hands warmed from the blood that was leaking from her abdomen.

The pain was something different to her.

She couldn’t even put a number on how many times her father beat her to a pulp. Nothing could ever compare to the pain of being physically hurt by the person who was supposed to love you the most in the world. This was nothing.

Y/N was just happy she’d die doing something good for the world. A final act of sorts.

Just as she was about to succumb to the tired and dark feeling threatening to envelop her, she felt a warm presence next to her.

“Y/N!” Dick yelled when he reached her side. “You’re OK.” His voice started to shake. “You’re gonna be OK. Y/N, I need you to hold on.”

Police and FBI agents flooded the warehouse as Dick pulled Y/N into his arms.

Y/N looked up to see tears had filled his eyes.

“It’s OK, Dick.” She tried to tell him. “I’ll be fine. I’m fine.”

But when she reached up to cup his cheek, she stained his skin with her own blood.

Y/N was starting to lose her grip on life.

She swore she could feel Jason and Damian’s presence move her side, and then hear Tim talking to the cops. But she could also be imagining it. She could be imagining it all. Maybe she had already died and this was just how she had wanted to go, her mind giving her that final wish.

Things went from being so loud and warm to cold and silent.

--------------------------

Part 10

I edited this really quick. And for that, I apologize. 

[berriusagi]

Stomach Bug Ch10

Doctor’s Visit

Alright I am back with another chapter and with this I bring something special. I want all of you to help me decide what our lovely Mari will be having so place your votes in the poll. 

LINK REMOVED

Thank you to everyone who voted I’ll be using the results gathered and I hope everyone’s happy with what the final tally was.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

“Damian’s not home right?” Tim asked, making his way into the Batcave where all the other bats sans Damian were sitting around the computer.

“No, tomorrow’s pixies first appointment with that new doctor so he decided to stay the night to give her moral support since she’s never been to a gyno before.” Jason said looking up from the files he was reading over, “honestly from what I’ve heard about what happens during those exams I don’t blame her for wanting a little support before going.”

“It’s all routine and can’t be any worse than the baby-making process.” Dick hummed typing away on the computer.

“I think that’s enough talk about that; why did you want to know Tim?” Bruce asked looking over at his second youngest.

“I found more info on Marinette thought I’d share with you all while Damian wasn’t here to stop me or compromise the data,” he explained walking over to the bat computer connecting his laptop to it.

The other men all sat silently around waiting for Tim to begin his presentation as he sorted through different encrypted files before bringing up a few pictures. “To begin her original name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng and her parents were bakers back in France, Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng,” Tim said pointing them out.

“Marinette told me they essentially kicked her out,” Bruce said crossing his arms, “They believed the words of some liar and threw her out. She lived with a friend her last year in Paris before moving here.”

“Wait, hold on,” Dick said turning to Bruce, “Her parents kicked her out when she was still a minor? Isn’t that illegal?”

“Yes, and they knew that, she mentioned that when she told her grandmother she came and took custody from her parents, who seemed more than happy to hand it over, and let her stay to finish out that school year with a friend then moved here to finish out her schooling.” Bruce nodded.

“Yeah that all tracks to what I found,” Tim nodded, showing them documents next, “I have here the transfer of custody, her transcript for moving here, as well as the adoption papers for Ivy and Harley. I also went ahead and started running some background checks on the people still in her phone.” he added typing away.

“Anyone, we should be worried about?” Jason asked leaning back in his seat content to just watching Tim work, “She told me a bit about one of her friends’ guy seemed a bit sketch when he was a Paris hero though now I think he’s meh but never got a name from her.”

“You said he was one of the heroes?” Tim asked looking over at Jason.

“Yeah, she said he gave up his miraculous after the fight because his dad was the villain and he didn’t think Ladybug would want anything to do with him if she found out who he was so he bit the bullet and gave it up. He left Paris shortly after to live with his aunt.” Jason said looking around at the others.

“If the villain were outed then it’d be easy to find out who his son was,” Tim said, turning back to the computer the clicking of keys filling the Batcave as he searched through multiple French websites. The other three just watched as screen after screen flew by before settling on a trashy tabloid-like website.

“I don’t think this is what could be considered a credible source Timmy,” Dick winced looking over all the clickbait titles and the like to dislike ratio on the articles.

“No, but it does have quite a bit on the Paris heroes,” Tim said scrolling through to articles that had more likes and seemed of better quality, “here we go, Hawkmoth Defeated: How a Recluse Held Paris Hostage.”

The four men all leaned forward reading through the article that detailed the final battle between Hawkmoth and the Paris Heroes with a written description of what happened as well as a video that seemed to have been taken from a mix of sources and spliced together. The article detailed what Hawkmoth had been doing for three years and in the end, revealed him and his accomplice to be Gabriel Agrest and his assistant Nathalie Sancoeur.

“So we know that Gabriel Agrest was the big bad so who was his kid?” Jason asked as Tim typed away.

“Adrien Agrest, teen model for the Agrest Fashion Label. Looks like after his dad got taken down he had to go through months of interrogations and court hearings just to prove his innocence. His mother was found dead in the Agrest Mansion and with no one else it looks like his aunt took him in once he was cleared.” Tim said reading through the files he dug up.

“That would mean he probably gave his miraculous to Pixie right after he was cleared. If he was going to do something sketch he’d just hold onto it.” Jason said.

“He probably was so messed up after the battle he didn’t want any connection to the miraculous I mean his father turned evil because of them.” Dick hummed crossing his arms.

The four fell silent as they took in the information they had received, “Well Tim you got anything on that liar?” Jason asked, tilting his head.

“This whole blog is about that liar.” Tim said motioning to the tabloid, “I’ll email you guys the link and read it at your own pace there is years of garbage on here.”

“Then with that, I think we should all be heading out. We'll go over more of what Tim found later for now we should get to work,” Bruce said, getting to his feet and moving to change into his costume.

The other three nodded as Tim packed up his laptop and stored it away before they all got dressed and took their way out of the cave to begin their nightly rounds.

~.~.~.~

“So what do you think they found?” Marinette asked cuddled up to Damian's side on her bed with the hyenas crowded around them on either side resting their heads over their laps, “Chloe didn’t exactly hold back on mentioning certain names.”

“I would be surprised if Drake didn’t have an entire dossier on all your friends.” Damian said rubbing Marinette’s back, “You know he probably took all your contact info right?”

“Yeah oh well,” she shrugged turning to bury her face into his neck, “They were bound to find out eventually, might as well let some of the greatest detectives around have some fun piecing my life together.”

Damian hummed closing his eyes as he relaxed back into the plush pillows covering Marinette’s bed, “Are you nervous about tomorrow?” he asked.

“A little,” she sighed tightening her grip on his shirt, “Mum told me what to expect and said she’d sit in the room with me if I wanted her to, you can’t exactly join me since we can’t have this whole thing getting out.”

“I’ll be waiting here for you when you get home don’t worry,” he said kissing her forehead, “now try to get some sleep you barely got any at the manor.”

Marinette nodded letting out a deep sigh as she shifted around to get comfortable between Damian and the hyenas. Eventually, she settled down and dozed off into a dreamless sleep with Damian rubbing her back and the familiar weight of Bud’s head on her hip.

Damian stayed up for a bit longer listening to the quiet sounds around and thinking over what to do for the next day. He eventually made his way into a dreamless sleep as well a bit after one AM when he finally managed to shut his mind off.

~.~.~.~

“Marigold are you ready?” Ivy called from the kitchen as she looked through her back to make sure she had everything.

“Almost,” Marinette said, coming out in a comfortable knit sweater and skinny jeans, “I was looking for my purse. I think Lou took it,” she said, looking around in the usual spots for her bag.

“I’ll keep your wallet and Tiki in my bag we have to get going,” Ivy said, grabbing Marinette’s wallet off the counter and stowing it in her bag as Tiki flew over and settled into the bag as well giving Ivy a nod to close the bag once she was comfortable.

Marinette nodded and went back to her room grabbing her phone quickly checking it before putting it away in her pocket and leaned down kissing Damian’s cheek as he groaned slowly blinking his eyes open. “I’m leaving I’ll text you when we’re on our way back.”

“Okay habibti call me if you need me.” he yawned reaching up and pulled her down for a kiss, “good luck with your appointment I’ll see you after.”

Marinette nodded kissing him again as Ivy shouted for Marinette that they were leaving. She gave Damian another quick peck on the lips before pulling back and ran out to meet Ivy at the door. “Had to get my phone.” she smiled stepping out of the apartment and waited as Ivy locked up and ushered down to the cab waiting outside.

“Now remember Marigold just relax and everything will go smoothly, it will be uncomfortable but it won’t hurt okay.” Ivy said, settling into the cab beside Marinette and rubbing her back, “I can sit inside the room with you if need me to.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” Marinette said, taking a few calming breaths as they made their way to the doctor’s office. Once they arrived Marinette was starting to look a little green as they went through the check-in process and filled out their info.

Waiting for her name to be called felt like an eternity and her stomach was twisting into knots as she watched other women come and go through the office. Marinette sat there twisting her fingers in her sweater and took slow deep breaths trying to calm herself when the door opened, “Marinette?” a nurse called.

Marinette shot up her face going from pale to a deep red as she made her way to the nurse. The nurse smiled and ushered her inside and went about getting her blood pressure, “Hmm little elevated but I think it could just be your nerves.” the nurse smiled, and her height and weight.

“Alright girly so here’s your room I’m going to need you to completely strip down underwear and all then put this paper gown on opening to the front and here’s a privacy blanket for your legs.” the nurse said motioning to the items on the bed, “the doctor will be in here shortly.”

Marinette nodded as the nurse closed the door leaving her alone, “It’s just a check-up.” Marinette mumbled undressing and taking her time to carefully fold her clothes and set them on the table in the corner of the room. She put on the provided gown and settled on the table keeping her phone clenched tightly in her hand as she waited for the doctor to arrive.

It felt like an eternity when there was a knock at the door and the doctor stepped in, a petite redhead with a smattering of freckles covering her pale face, “Hello Miss Marinette I’m Doctor Amelia.” she smiled coming over to shake Marinette’s hand, “I see you’re here for a wellness exam and you’re expecting.”

“Uh yes,” Marinette coughed her voice, cracking a bit from her nerves, “I uh just found out a few weeks ago.” she blushed, gripping the paper blanket covering her legs.

Doctor Amelia nodded looking over the file, “This is your first-ever wellness exam yes?” she asked, taking a seat.

Marinette nodded keeping her head bowed trying to not let her nerves take over her.

“Okay sweetie we’ll go at your pace so just relax okay.” Doctor Amelia smiled setting the file aside and grabbed her stethoscope.

~.~.~.~

The entire exam didn’t take more than five minutes before the doctor was cleaning up and stepping out to give Marinette some privacy to redress. Marinette wasted no time pulling her clothes back on and sending Damian a text saying, ‘Making this baby was less violating than that.’ before putting her phone in her pocket as there was another knock, “Miss Marinette if you're ready you can go to the front and schedule the next appointment.” Doctor Amelia said through the door.

Marinette walked over opening the door her face still a bit flushed, “Okay uh when should I come back next?” she asked.

“I think in a month should be enough time and we should be able to hear the heartbeat by then.” she smiled, “Your moms waiting for you upfront, and here’s the card to one of my nurses if you have any questions feel free to call her okay.”

“Thank you.” Marinette nodded, taking the card and quickly went to the front to meet back up with Ivy and schedule the next appointment and made their way out to walk back home.

“I think we should pick up some breakfast.” Ivy smiled putting a hand on Marinette’s shoulder as they walked. “There’s a nice little bakery around the corner should we pick up something from there?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Marinette nodded following Ivy down to the bakery and got in line looking over the different pastries they had for sale. Between the two of them, they picked out an array of sweet and savory options with Marinette making sure to pick out some vegetarian options for Damian. Soon they were walking out with two large bags and were walking down the street back to their home.

Upon entering both had to hold their bags of treats high out the reach of Bud and Lou trying hard to reach the goodies hidden away. Harley quickly came over pulling them back by their collars so the two could set the bags down in the kitchen.

Damian was settled at the table and got up coming over to help them unpack as Harley got some coffee and tea going as they all settled down to enjoy a bit of a late breakfast. Marinette ate her croissants and fruit danish taking small bites so as not to upset her stomach any further. The small group spoke of anything and everything as they enjoyed their meal. Harley taking the time to pick out the meat from her sandwich to give to the two hyenas and Damian holding a small conversation with Tiki as she munched on the cookies Marinette picked out.

“So when are you going back?” Harley asked looking over at Marinette as she bit into her bagel.

“In a month, the doctor said we should be able to hear the heartbeat by then,” Marinette said, finishing off her danish, “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You’ll be fine Marigold we’re here for you every step.” Ivy smiled ruffling her hair, “Now I think you should go lay down, maybe settle your stomach and your nerves. You were looking a bit green and tense after your appointment.”

Marinette nodded, finishing her tea and croissant before heading back to her room to lay down. Damian finished off his breakfast quickly and excused himself before following Marinette leaving the two sirens and the small goddess at the table.

“At least he’s good for our little Mari.” Harley hummed sipping her coffee, “So long as he makes her happy he can stick around I guess but not too sure I forgive him for knocking our baby up.”

“Oh, now you don’t like him?” Ivy chuckled, raising her eyebrow at her.

“Oh, I adore the kid but you know one of us has to give him the shovel talk eventually.” Harley chuckled getting up to clean the dishes and put the leftovers away.

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@myazael @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @moonlightstar64 @moonlitceleste @stainedglassm  @casual-darkness @mochegato @ultimatetornshipper @heemsanddamemes @nathleigh @qualitypeacepainter @raven-frost-21 @maskedpainter @demonicbusiness @dood-space @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @indecisive-mess-named-me @changelinggarden @zerotosiki @alysrose-starchild @s-and-n @wolf2118 @athena452 @jjmjjktth @eliza-bich @solangelo252 @icerosecrystal @heinrode @Junarvion

@babylovebug18 @animegirlweeb @corporeal-terrestrial

[fandom-writer642]

Stone Skipping Final Part

Summary: The Batfamily has always been so crazy that no one notices the silent sister. She’s made her way through college with no one else realizing, sometimes forgetting about her completely. How many times can she bounce back before sinking?

Warnings: Angst?

Request: Part one wasn’t.

Pairing?: Family; Batfamily x Sister! Reader a small bit of Bart Allen x Reader at the end.

———

The CCPD was calmer than normal, no crimes from any of the rouges but it could not be said by some of the other cities in the country. Work was simple, a catch up day of reports for most. (Y/n) Wayne was looking through a few cases that were thought to be linked. She had been working for the CCPD for the past two years, starting the job in her last year of college.

It had been five years since Damian and her moved to Central City. Damian worked as a veterinarian not too far, though (Y/n) said he would’ve been a good asset to the Police Department as a detective. Both left the lives they lived in Gotham behind, not wanting to go back. They may be the biological heirs to the company but they knew Tim could handle it just fine. Neither (Y/n) or Damian ever made a move to talk to their dad or brothers. Alfred was the only one allowed to stay with them.

"(Y/n), there are two men asking to talk to you," an officer stated.

"What are their names? Because if it's my dad or brother's I don't want to speak with them."

The guy nodded and walked away to go talk to the pair that wanted to talk to her. Quickly she compared fingerprints and weapons from a recent case to one that happened a few months back. The crimes were very similar, too similar in the way they were planned, they had to be connected in some way or shape.

“(Y/n), they said their names were Bart Allen and Jon Kent. Do you still want them to come in?”

A smile graced the young woman’s face and she nodded, “Yes right away.”

Jon, Bart, Damian and (Y/n) were all close friends. They helped each other out and helped each other through school. More often than that they just hung out like normal people and lived normal lives. Inside jokes and random visits were a normalcy among the group, not one falter was possible between them. (Y/n) was going to guess that the man was new to the station since everyone knew who Jon and Bart were. Looking up as two figures she stood up sharply a glare in her eyes. Now she was certain the man was new or paid off, no one would let those two in to talk to her. It was common knowledge that the (Y/n) and Damian Wayne didn't talk to the rest of their family and everyone knew who was in the group.

She tapped her bracelet that went unnoticed at the sight of the two. Damian would come as soon as possible, as would Bart and Jon. She needed to get away from these two, now.

"Sit down sis, we just want to chat."

"There is nothing to chat about Timothy. Why did you and Richard come? You know I want nothing to do with Gotham or the rest of our family. So why are you two bothering me while I'm clearly working?"

Both men frowned at her, "Look we just wanted to apologize about-"

"About what?” (Y/n) cut off. She was well aware that her co-workers were getting ready to move the two young men if needed. “About forgetting my existence for all the time you’ve known me? Only showing you cared when I left for Central? Richard, Timothy, if you wanted anytime to apologize then it should have been soon after I left. It’s been five years, not five weeks, five years. I’ve made a life for myself and so has Damian, we don’t plan on leaving our new lives.

“If you wished to apologize then go ahead apologize, that doesn’t mean a I’ll be forgiving you for what you did. You can talk to Damian, that is if he doesn’t punch you first.” She nodded as she looked past the two and to her friends and little brother. None of them looked happy, in fact Damian looked ready to murder both of them, Tim mostly.

“Honestly, don’t you remember when we skipped stones?” Dick tried to get to her. All he got was a blank look and a nod. “We had fun and we were siblings.”

“The key words in that sentence are had and were. Dick, you have no right to come here and make sure she talks to you.”

Dick looked at Bart in surprise of what came out of the young speedster’s mouth. Jon nodded in agreement and Damian was faster than you could blink. One second he was next to Jon and the next he was in front of Tim. The only things holding back were his morals and Jon’s grip on his arm.

“(Y/n) we can remove them from the premises if you wish.”

“That won’t be necessary Captain. I’m sorry for the disruption, may I leave early?”

“Of course.”

The woman packed her things and grabbed Tim’s and Dick’s arms before dragging them out with her three boys behind her, all chuckling in amusement. Soon they reached a small diner where the six got a table.

“Why are you two here?” (Y/n) questioned. She looked Tim dead in the eye and he couldn’t help but remember the night she had left, the day right before Damian’s graduation. Dick couldn’t believe how much his sister had grown from when he last saw her on Christmas about six or seven years back.

“We wanted to talk,” Dick replied, he was trying hard to stay calm but couldn’t as Jon sat next to him, giving him pointed glares.

Damian rolled his eyes from across Jon, “Well, we’re talking. You better say what you need to by the time this early dinner ends. We have places to be.”

“The winter festival,” Tim guessed. “We know what you four have been up to for the past few years. You all volunteer at homeless shelters, help out where ever your needed, only as your civil identities. You four are like everyday heroes that help with the small stuff.”

“While that is all correct, why have you been keeping tabs on us in the first place?” Damian questioned, his eyes zeroed in on the older men.

Dick shrugged, “Wanted to make sure our little siblings are well and safe.”

The two Waynes scoffed and rolled their eyes, glancing down at the menus. They both doubted that was the reason why they tried to corner (Y/n) at her job. The waitress took their drink orders and hurried off but the tension still stood.

“Look, why are you really here? What could you possibly know?”

“Enough,” Tim said causally. “Damian’s a veterinarian, not that I’m surprised by that. You’re a forensic sciencetist, that was a little startling seeing as you went to medical school. Jon’s a journalist like Clark, one of the best actually which is surprising, I always remembered you as a goof ball. Bart is also a scienctist that specializes in physics. All four of you live in Central City, right across the hall from each other in fact. (Y/n) and Damian live in the same apartment that the had moved into and Jon and Bart live as roommates right around the hall. However, Jon and Damian spend more time with each other while Bart and (Y/n) spend more time with each other. Should we be worried about that?”

“Should you even care?” Bart snapped. “These are our personal lives and no offense Drake, we don’t want you in it. You had your shot and you missed it.”

“Look, we just want to set a new play field,” Dick began. “We don’t have to be friends though we’d prefer it. We know being siblings is out of the question so friends?”

“Acquaintances,” Damian spoke up. “We’ll see about friends in the future but we’re acquaintances. I don’t forgive you for what you’ve done and by the look in (Y/n)’s not forgiving you guys either.”

“Damian’s correct, I don’t forgive you and nor will I be your friend at this time. We will only be acquaintances and nothing more. I have not intention on being your sister in any time.”

The six sat in silence, a little less tension than before. Soon after dinner was over they went their separate ways. Though Dick and Tim were not Damian and (Y/n)’s siblings and would never be, perhaps becoming friends would be better. The pair went back to Gotham and informed everyone of what had happened, no one was overly pleased. The group of four however enjoyed the rest of their evening laughing and talking all happy that the festival was taking place.

There were things that had changed over the past five years like stones being skipped.

First, Damian stopped being so serious and stiff. He would talk, laugh, and joke like most people his age would. He enjoyed his life as he lived it and didn’t insult people unless they deserved it. The press and media saw the change of the Past Gotham Prince and people saw him as he had truly become. A young man with a love for animals who was actually a truly caring person that would help anyone and everyone.

Second, (Y/n) had let her emotions take more control over her thoughts and actions than she normally had. She was able to help as many people as she could both in and out of her job. She was great at her job and people seemed to recognize her as more than just a silent and pretty face. She was a smart woman and was ready for most anything and to help those who needed it. She wasn’t Gotham City’s princess anymore but a Central City Hero.

Third, Jon had indeed moved to Central City and followed Clark’s footsteps as he became one of the best journalists known around the nation. He gave his adoptive parents a run for their money as he wrote and got his stories published. His powers helped him, especially his super hearing which could pick up most conversations that he wanted to hear. He was a favorite in Central City for his writing, it was something that surprised those closest to him but he had a natural talent for it.

Fourth, Bart gave up the superhero gig and started a normal life. He’d get called in about once every year for an extreme emergency and that was all he’d listen to. He didn’t have an easy job as a physicist as it was a complicated task but he enjoyed it none the less. He was one of the best in the city.

Fifth, Bart and (Y/n) had gotten together, but they didn’t go public. Last thing they wanted was for the press and media to find out so they just acted like good friends in front of people. It hasn’t changed the group’s dynamic at all, they were all great friends and that would never stop.

They had changed into people they never thought they would be. All four were happy, glad to have each other and glad to have left.

“Stone skipping?” Damian asked as they got hot chocolate.

“I was naive, thought it was fun. I liked to see how far I could get it to skip before sinking.”

The group smiled and joked around, teasing each other as the winter festival brought joy to everyone there. Even so, Damian couldn’t help but think that people themselves were like skipping stones, they could only go so far before they sunk to their lowest point. It was only a matter of time before someone went to pick them back up again and test how far they could go once again and doing better than before, perhaps even reaching the goal that was set. It was a never ending cycle and he couldn’t help but smile even more as he realized that his sister was like an embodiment of that cycle.

———

Note: I don’t know why, but writing the last part made me very emotional. When writing this chapter I realized what Damian had and I hope I’ve entertained you! You can message me request if you want me to write something but I hope you all have a good day and enjoyed what I wrote. Also shoutout to @lizlil for being so kind and writing what she had. But shoutout to everyone that liked the story or commented on them.

[justicealwaysprevails]

fallibility.

WHO: Bruce Wayne @justicealwaysprevails, Slade Wilson @terminator-deathstroke, Jason Todd @thatsjasonfkntodd, Tim Drake @redrobin-timdrake, Damian Wayne @sonofabct, & Duke Thomas @missed-signals, mentions of Dick Grayson @amazingflyingdick WHERE: The hospital WHEN: Backdated to June 30th, 2020 WHAT: A short discussion in Dick’s room about the night’s events

Bruce: Bruce waited until there was some news before he made a few phone calls. He passed along the information in a tone that was calm if not flat, simply stating that the doctors had performed surgery and Dick was unconscious, but the coma was medically induced. It was a good sign that he'd survived this long and he made sure they knew that. He knew they were all worried. Nothing he said was untrue, he wouldn't go that far even if it meant putting them at ease, and Bruce hoped his tendency toward harsh honesty in the past might provide some comfort now.

He asked Tim to bring a change of clothes to the hospital for Jason. The staff had nothing to offer and Bruce didn't want to draw attention to him. No one seemed to make the connection, but Bruce Wayne had more than one son and perhaps it was too impossible to imagine.

After hanging up with the last of them, he returned to the room where they were allowed to sit with Dick. "The others are on their way. Tim is bringing you clothes." It was the last thing he said for a while.

Damian: Damian hadn't been too far from the hospital when he received the phone call. For the longest time he was silent as Bruce explained the situation and when the call was done, he wasted no time in making his way to the building to meet up with everyone. There must have been a chilling expression on his face when he arrived, because several of the patients and guests in the waiting room took a look at him; got interested that Robin was making an appearance; and then immediately backed down and looked away as he ignored them and gathered directions to Dick's room.

Upon arrival, he saw his Father and gave him a quiet nod before taking up a position leaning against one of the walls - his gaze locked on Dick's unconscious body. How could something like this happen? To Dick, of all people? The more he thought about it, the angrier he got - and the angrier he got, the more icily silent he grew. Tim: Tim had been working on the encryption for NOVA correspondences when he got the call from Bruce. He had listened, face impassive. He was a different man than when Bruce had told him about Steph. Back then, he hadn't really been a man at all. Now, he certainly didn't take it the same way. His expression became as blank as Bruce's often was as he hummed his agreement on each point.

Tim had always had a special sort of closeness with Dick that he didn't have with really anyone else but Steph. It wasn't as if he and Jason were close. Or he and Damian. To hear that Dick might be in danger or fighting for his life threatened to draw out any number of emotions. All of them were repressed in favor of action. He told Steph what was going on in the same kind of removed voice. She knew him, so she'd know he was trying not to instantly self destruct. Tim didn't cry anymore, really, and he knew that getting hyper emotional could be dangerous in their line of work. So he was calm, though there was a waver in his voice when she handed him a thermos full of coffee and he made his way up to grab a set of clothes. He didn't think much of aesthetic. Hoodie, sweats, shirt. He didn't think much about the variation of height between him and Jason. All he was thinking about was Dick. The possibility of Dick being gone.

Medically induced coma. Gunshot to the head. The survivability of that wasn't great. And if he did live, what complications would there be? His memory? His emotions? His balance? He may live but how my physical therapy would he need? Already, Tim's mind began to fixate on machines he could build or programs he could design to help Dick should something like that happen. He and Duke left without much more preamble. Tim didn't say much of anything on the way over, mind still stuck in his loops. In truth, he almost forgot Duke was there, because he had begun to get fixated on what could be done.

When they arrived at the hospital, Tim's face was that same blank expression as he told them who they were and they were quickly directed to the right room. When he took in the scene: Dick looking small in a hospital bed with everyone around it looking grim and silent... it transported him right back to another death in the family. Another Robin fighting for their life. Steph had lost. She'd died. What if Dick died too? Would they make him a grave?

That was likely altogether too morbid. He pushed it down as he wordlessly held out the bag of clothes to Jason. "What do the nurses say?" He asked no one in particular, his gaze remaining settled on his big brother where he lay. Duke: Duke had been in Star City not even six full hours when they got the news about Dick. He hadn't even seen Bruce yet, or had a proper conversation with Tim, before getting woken up by a phone call. He found Tim downstairs and gave him his space while he spoke to Steph and Babs, but he knew the situation was grim and he wasn't in the mood to put up an act about it.

At this point he knew Tim (and the others) well enough to know when to talk and when to not say anything. So on the way over he was also quiet, his gaze turned out the window, and tried to put the pieces together in his own head instead of speculating aloud. He knew it would be bad for everyone if Dick didn't survive this, but he tried to convince himself that wasn't going to be the outcome.

When they reached the hospital he walked next to him and slightly behind. As they reached the door he caught sight of Tim's blank expression and he reached over to press his arm reassuringly. His hand slipped away as they walked inside. The atmosphere was tense and his gaze went straight to Jason because of the blood on his clothes. Duke tried not to react but he couldn't help a wince. "Hey," he said awkwardly, also acknowledging Bruce and Damian since he hadn't had a chance to see them yet. This wasn't the best place for a reunion, either.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he studied Damian for a few seconds with a small frown as he took in how he looked, concerned, but he didn't say anything to him yet. "Yeah, any more news?" Jason: Maybe he should have found some kind of relief in the others being there, but the sudden influx of bodies, even while they were accompanied by little talking, was not welcome at all. He didn’t greet any of them, but silently took the bag of clothes from Tim and was still holding them when Duke arrived right after. He was the only one out of all of them that had actually seen him, and the evidence was all over him. It was going to be a lot longer before they got real news, he was certain. Even excusing the hole in his head, Dick had lost an alarming amount of blood.

“Better settle in,” he finally said, though which of them he was speaking to wasn’t clear. That was all he offered before he walked out with the clothes to find somewhere away from them to change and clean up. Slade: Slade hadn't really begun to worry until it got very late and he hadn't heard from Dick. He wasn't the sort to helicopter someone he thought was competent as Dick was. However, Dick hadn't reached out and he hadn't confirmed any sign of life when Slade texted him. It had begun to stress him out. Then it had been simple, as it got even later, to have Billy triangulate the signal from Dick's cell phone.

The hospital was a far enough drive that Slade was thoroughly pissed off by the time he arrived. Of course, no one would have thought to call him. Why should they? Even if Dick was all but living with Slade now, his family certainly had no loyalty to him. But if he was seriously hurt, the assassin was going to find out why and then it would just be a matter of how.

As he stepped up into the nurse's station, she had cowed under the look he gave. He was a massively large man and he was asking where Dick Grayson was. When she had the audacity to ask if he was family, Slade all but snarled out: "I'm his partner." It wasn't quite like that, yet, but he knew what he had to say in order to get inside.

When he had the room number, Slade barely saw any of the rest of Wayne's orphans, or even Wayne himself. Of course he was aware of them, but he certainly wasn't here for them. He stared hard for a moment at Dick in the hospital bed, moving up beside it to reach out. There was a machine beeping out Dick's pulse, but Slade ignored it in favor of his own ears and touch. He could hear the familiar sound of Dick's heart, but was working overtime to try to fix him. And his fingers dropped down so two could press to the vein on Dick's inner wrist.

"What happened?" He growled. Bruce: Damian's arrival troubled him. Bruce moved away from the window to go to where he was standing against the wall, prepared to speak, but Tim and Duke's arrival distracted him from it. He was grateful that Jason could change into something else so no one would have to see the amount of blood that soaked his clothes. It was disturbing, especially now that he'd had time to see Dick and take note of how pallid he was. The nurses had given him blood. It seemed never-ending.

"They believe he'll only be out for a few days. It was a precautionary measure." They had been worried about swelling. Bruce wasn't blind to the fact that Dick was receiving more care than any other patient would have had the luxury of experiencing. There were already two doctors involved and a third coming in from a neurological center in LA. "They are optimistic that he will survive it." They made it clear they weren't sure how he would be affected in the long term, but that was something he didn't bring up right now. He saw how Damian looked and he knew how Tim's mind could overrun with possibilities. It was better if they focused on certainties instead.

He did not expect Deathstroke. It was one thing to know what was going on, to hear it confirmed by Dick, and have an understanding of the situation. That didn't mean he believed Dick was making a wise decision. It also didn't mean it would be natural for him to accept Slade's presence in a room with his family, one of them comatose, and in that moment of shock it didn't really matter what he knew. He moved around to the other side of the bed and snatched Slade's wrist as he took Dick's pulse, his eyes narrowing. It was an instinctive, protective gesture, but one he didn't fully process until after he'd made it. "Don't touch him." Damian: Damian's gaze never left Dick even as more members of his family entered the room; even as Slade Wilson himself walked into the room and immediately went to Dick's side to check his pulse. His gaze didn't budge until Bruce's protective gesture had slipped past his lips. "Father." The word was soft and followed by a small shake of his head. This wasn't the time or the place to have any sort of confrontation - and honestly, Damian wasn't sure he had it in him right now to even engage someone. "Who did this?" He questioned at length. "Did Jason see anything? Say anything?" Tim: Tim watched Jason go and then watched him be overtaken by Slade Wilson before shaking his head. He was prepared, if Bruce turned this into an altercation. Tim would be at his side in a moment.

Looking to Duke, Tim realized that he had no idea what was going on. None. "Dick and Slade Wilson are... involved," he murmured lowly. "It's a new revelation, but an old connection, I guess."

Duke: Even though he was officially and legally part of the family, Duke still occasionally felt out of place. It didn't help that he'd stayed behind in Gotham instead of electing to move with the rest of them. Eventually he decided to bite the bullet and just do it, especially because it seemed like they were needed more here.

He'd taken a seat close to the door, which meant Deathstroke walked right by him. Shocked, he was on his feet in seconds, confused, and his gaze went to Tim and Damian to gauge their reactions. He knew what Tim said, but he felt like he needed to hear it again. "Excuse me, what?" Jason: Jason lingered in the bathroom quite awhile longer than necessary. Tim had obviously not looked at the clothes he’d brought him, and they probably belonged to him, because the pants were too short and the rest felt too tight. He considered just leaving the hospital altogether, he’d have to as soon as the SCPD sent someone anyway, but he wanted to be there when someone gave them an update. Whatever that update was. So he dealt with the clothes, cuffing the bottom of the pants to make it look less like he’d just hit a sudden growth spurt, and washed the blood off his hands and the places on his face and hair that he’d touched. He took another minute to send Roy a message, tell him where he was, why, that he’d be back soon. Roy was one of Dick’s best friends. He should know.

He didn’t expect to be walking back in to see the massive form of Slade lumbering by the bed, but he seemed to be the least surprised by it judging by the look on everyone else’s face. Especially Bruce’s. He rarely saw him quite so expressive. As much as he’d have ordinarily liked to stand back and watch them fuck each other up, the reason they were all in one room had sort of robbed him of the desire to do much more than exist in the space, figure out whether Dick was going to get to walk out of it, and leave.

“Chill, B. Dick would want him here.” As weird as it was, as much of an issue as it was, he felt pretty sure about that part. Dick had made his choices. Slade: The moment he felt Bruce's grip, Slade's head shot up. That was rich. As if he was going to walk in in plainclothes, the legal way, with intent to harm Dick? He knew that Wayne knew about them, that he knew what Dick meant to Slade. He also knew that recently he had dug a tracker out of Dick's arm and seen the disappointment on his face as he talked about Wayne putting it there.

"Take your hand off me, Wayne, or I'll break your arm in front of all your kids." There was no batsuit and no gadgets to protect Bruce. Slade had defeated him when he was fully specced out. Slade may be in plainclothes, but he could never stop being a metahuman. He had respect for Bruce Wayne in many ways, and he would rather not humiliate him in front of his children and then subsequently have to fight them, but he wasn't leaving this hospital room and he wasn't going to be ordered away from Dick. "I wouldn't hurt him. Especially not in plain view of everyone in this room. Why don't you focus on the people who might *actually *need you, if you're not going to give me anything relevant?"

Slade was surprised to hear Jason speak in his favor. Damian, not so much. The pair of them had worked together before. He liked the youngest batkid. He might have liked Jason had he not been such a pain in the ass. He looked to Damian. "Fill me in, kid," he said, knowing that he might actually get an answer other than hostility from Talia's kid.

Bruce: Bruce was pragmatic and logical enough to understand that challenging Deathstroke in a hospital room as his family looked on was not a wise decision. It hadn't mattered in the few seconds he'd given over to the anger he'd been harboring since learning of the injury. He could see it mirrored in Damian, even if his son were able to contain it, and it concerned him.

Jason's odd demeanor, too, concerned him, and it was their efforts to deescalate the situation that had him releasing Slade's wrist. Regardless of his own opinions, he didn't actually believe Slade was a danger to Dick. At least not right now. Bruce hadn't believed it back then, either, but then things had ultimately changed. They could always change again.

"He doesn't know anything." Damian had just asked him questions, after all, but Bruce wasn't eager to answer them in front of Slade. But he knew he would find out eventually. It made no difference if it came from him or one of the others. Considering multiple factors at play, he was the best option. "Jason didn't see anything," he said that without any doubt, because he wouldn't have left something like that out. When he directed the explanation to Slade his voice shifted in tone and became more matter-of-fact. "Dick came across someone on patrol." He had no idea how old this person was. He'd been referred to as a kid. That could span several years. "A kid, someone small enough to carry. He asked them their name and they gave the name Gary Kemp. After that there was no more contact with him." Who knows what could have happened after Barbara lost communication, or if the kid had even been the shooter. Damian: As his siblings spoke up and quieted back down, Damian let out a quiet breath. He was relieved when Bruce finally let go of the man - but not as relieved when he cut in to tell Slade that he didn't know anything. It wasn't a lie - he was as in the dark as everyone else; but he could've told Slade that himself. He gave Slade a look as if he were about to say something, but then his Father began explaining what they knew - and every ounce of his attention was diverted to the words he spoke. Damian's fists slowly curled at his sides. This was because of some kid? Who the hell were they? Gary Kemp... that name sounded familiar to him, but Damian couldn't place why. He hadn't exactly been in-town when Dick had taken the agent's life, but he was familiar with the incident thanks to the family's 'record keeping'. "That's it?" The question came out sharply. Tim: Tim was only half-listening. Still processing. However, the name that Bruce said had him tuning back in. "Kemp?" He repeated. "Gary Kemp. It's the name of the NOVA officer that Dick killed when he was undercover. The murder he publicly admitted to." He pushed to his feet, coming to the foot of the bed. "I'm willing to bet that the kid was a plant. Bait for Dick. NOVA has been shown to be conniving before."

Tim looked at Bruce. "It was NOVA. Or at the very least a non-affiliated NOVA sympathizer of the organization or Kemp."

Duke: Duke was stunned, but he didn't ask another question even though he had about fifty. He learned by now that it was better not to ask questions. The name Gary Kemp was familiar to him, too, and when Tim clarified where it came from he nodded. It had been news in Gotham because Dick was Bruce's son, but that was the only reason he knew anything about it. He hadn't asked Dick for details. He was pretty sure that wouldn't have gone over well.

"Doesn't Nightwing's mask record? He was on patrol, right?" Dick was shot in the head, which probably meant the mask wasn't in great shape. The thought made him wince. "I mean, even if it's... damaged, maybe it can be recovered." Jason: “Dick didn’t know who shot him. He said so. He was...he could talk for a few minutes.” Once he’d stopped hallucinating that Jason was 14 and visiting Bludhaven, anyway. “Doubt it was the kid.”

He leaned against a space of wall as far from the bed as he could get while still being in the room. “I have his mask, but I wouldn’t count on getting much out of it.” They might get lucky, but he sure as hell didn’t feel like it. Jason had his bloody clothes shoved in the bag Tim had brought and reached in to take the mask out of the pile to hold out for whoever took it first. Slade: Slade listened if only because, once he knew who to gun for, he was going to take care of it. NOVA had been in Star City for years at this point and Slade hadn't cared about it. He was a metahuman, but he wasn't exactly worried about the organization. If various governments of various countries couldn't take him down, he hadn't needed to concern himself. Now, however, he did. They had had the audacity to go after someone relevant to Slade. Now, they needed to be dealt with.

As Jason held out the mask, he watched the others. He wasn't going to take it. He usually left tech to Wintergreen and he was willing to bet one of the others was more savvy than he was. They'd know more quickly than he did. Instead, he simply stayed by Dick's side and waited for what he needed. Over Bruce's shoulder, Slade locked eyes with Damian. If there was anyone in this room he might consider working with beyond Dick himself, it might be an Al Ghul. Damian was Bruce's, but he was also Talia. Slade and Talia had been close. And Damian was proving himself to be more like Talia than Bruce Wayne, wasn't he? Bruce: Bruce took the mask. He didn't know how salvageable it would be, but it would be work taking a look at. When Jason said that Dick had been talking he looked up at him, frowning. "Did he say anything else?"

Even though he was distracted by the news, he knew better than to turn fully away from Slade. He paid attention to him, even if it were in his peripheral. If he noticed he was looking in Damian's direction he didn't say anything, but he knew he would have to have a talk with Damian later about everything. He expected everyone to be impacted by this, but Damian in particular had already suffered a setback because of what happened with the league. Damian: "If this was NOVA..." Damian started and shook his head slowly. If this had been NOVA, then clearly the Avenging League wasn't doing a good enough job at finding information to help bring the organization to heel. He dropped his gaze to the ground, but when he lifted it once more it locked with that of Slade. He looked back for a moment before narrowing his gaze in a challenging and confusing look before peeling his eyes away to look at Dick's mask as his father took it. "Jason, where did you say you found him?" He questioned and looked at the man. If he knew a location - he knew where he could start looking into things for himself. It wasn't that he didn't trust his family - he needed answers for himself. Tim: Tim moved to Bruce's side automatically, wanting to see and hear as well as he could. He knew all the efforts that the League was making. He was a big part of the tech efforts to take them down. It was slowgoing, but if they were attacking people like Dick, that needed to be rectified immediately. Still, he keep quiet, waiting for Jason's answer.

He knew that Duke was still sitting baffled. He'd explain everything to him after this. But right now he had to focus on facts. On understanding and making it all make sense. He could deal with Duke's emotions later if he could get past where his mind was looping right now.

Duke: Duke was very confused, but he wasn't dumb enough to think that his stupid questions should take precedent over the issue of who shot Dick in the head, so he was thoughtful enough to keep quiet. He'd only sat down when he realized Bruce and Slade weren't about to fight. It seemed like a real possibility at first.

Pressing his lips together, his gaze shifted to Tim and he thought about asking him if he could get footage off of something that looked so busted up. He reconsidered when he realized how distracted he was, abandoning his own curiosity to let Jason answer all the questions that had been directed at him. Jason: “He was a couple of blocks from Roy’s place. I was close. Babs sent the coordinates. The kid must have been waiting in one of the alleys, Dick was by the dumpster in the back. I-“ he licked his lips, remembering seeing the blood before he saw Dick at all, “I doubt anyone else saw what happened.”

Had he said anything else? Yeah. Yeah, he’d said more, but none of it was relevant to anybody in that room except for Jason and he wasn’t in the mood to share with the class. They’d had what felt like one of those end of the world moments, and that needed to just be between them. It wasn’t going to solve anything about NOVA or what happened. “Nothing relevant,” he eventually answered. Slade: Slade listened, setting his jaw before resolving himself and turning for a chair in the corner. Placing it beside the bed, he settled himself. His mind was already working, but for now he was staying right where he was.

Reaching for his phone, he pulled it free to send some messages. One he sent to Wintergreen requesting all relevant data he could discover about NOVA and its facilities, a few others he sent to contacts in Star City to start a recon process where they could.

The final one he sent right to Damian Wayne. Since he didn’t seem able to grasp what Slade wanted from meaningful looks, Slade was going to start the conversation. Or perhaps the kid had already been thinking it.

Don’t be obvious or BW will figure out that I’m talking to you. It was a risk to ask him anything, but the set Damian’s jaw reminded Slade of his own anger, though he kept his under wraps. Let’s talk when we can steal a moment. Bruce: As Tim approached, Bruce silently folded the mask so the blood was less visible, careful not to damage it further. He did hand it over so Tim could look at it instead - not that he fell short on his personal technological ability, but he believed Tim might be able to do it faster.

Jason's answer made him hesitate before giving a nod. "The coma was medically induced. They're going to take him out of it in a few days. He might not remember anything." He was operating on the assumption that Dick would wake up, but he'd made it this long. His vitals were stable.

One of the nurses came in to check the machines. While she was working Bruce took notice of Slade's incessant texting, but he said nothing about it. Once the nurse was finished she nervously told Bruce that the doctor wanted to speak with him and motioned for him to follow her out of the room. He went with her even though it went against all of his instincts to leave all of them with Slade, but he also knew he wouldn't do anything. Not here, at least. Damian: A few blocks from Roy's place. That was at least some sort of a starting place. He listened as Jason stated there wasn't anything else relevant that was mentioned and watched his father pass the mask over to Tim. Normally, he would've smarted something off about not needing Tim to do the work that either Bruce or himself could handle - but instead, he just gave the male a look. "Work quickly?" He stated in a tone that was more of a request than a snark. When the nurse came to check the machines and finally relieved Bruce so he could speak with one of the doctors, Damian finally checked his phone. The message from Slade was unexpected and he read it a couple of times over before replying - making it seem like he was searching something up instead of sending a simple text response.

What? Why do you need to talk to me? You know something? The message made his confusion at the request evident and Damian fiddled with the phone a few moments more before pocketing it and finally peeling himself off the wall. "There isn't anything else we can do standing around here, right?" He questioned rhetorically, looking at his siblings and then back to Dick. "I can't just keep standing here staring at him... I need air. Someone update me with what the doctors say when Father returns." The teen stated and made his way towards the door. He quietly slipped out before quickly making his way down the hall towards one of the hospital's secondary entrances instead of the main doors. I'll find you. He sent the text to Slade and let out a slow breath. Tim: Tim took the mask. He didn't even have a quip for Damian. As if he wouldn't work quickly. Idiot. He was too preoccupied to retort. Instead, he nodded. He didn't ask whose blood was on the mask. He knew the answer and he didn't want to consider it. Instead, he shook his head. "I'll take it back to the Batcave," he said. "I'll let you know when I have something."

He gave one last long and lingering look to Dick before following Bruce out. "You comin' Duke?" he asked in the doorway.

Duke: "Uh, yeah." Duke definitely wasn't going to stay behind and try to act like this wasn't weird. He stood up, sighing softly, and paused before actually following after Tim so he could speak to Jason. "Hey, man. What about you? You coming?" It felt weird leaving Dick alone with Deathstroke even though apparently that was okay, but this was all brand new information. He had no idea how to feel about it, but it was also none of his business. Jason: “No. I’m sticking around for now.” He wanted to know what was said to Bruce, and right then didn’t particularly care who else was around or not around. It was less hypothetical for him. He’d seen the damage first hand, before the surgery, before Dick looked all peaceful in the bed. He’d bail before the cops got there, but he’d stay until then.

With the others gone, though, it just left him in the room with Slade and Dick. “If you want a minute I’ll step out.” He’d turned himself in to the SCPD to keep Slade behind bars, but not only had that been a stupid fucking plan that did not work and infinitely complicated his own life, Dick had turned all the circumstances for doing it on their head. Jason still thought he was being an idiot getting involved with Slade, but that was Dick’s call to make and he’d made it. It was happening. He wasn’t so much of an ass as to make it about himself, despite all previous accusations thrown at him. He could wait for Bruce in the hall the same as he could wait for him in the room. Slade: “I don’t care if you stay,” Slade said. He’d barely notice him, honestly. He was only here to watch Dick and he doubted that Jason would tell him anything about what he had seen. They weren’t exactly cordial. Besides, there wasn’t much of a moment to be had. Dick was unconscious. All Slade could do would be to make a phone call, but he could explain to Billy everything he needed in the NOVA facility from his phone. He’d already initiated the process and Billy had access to his assets to bribe their way into a double agent. As soon as Dick was fully in the clear and awake, Slade would mobilize. He could do it alone, but he hoped Talia’s son would consent to join him. He had a good mind and none of the hesitations of his father, it seemed.

“I won’t be leaving until he wakes up, but I give my word I’d never harm him while he was like this.” He would say ‘at all’, but Slade had done emotional harm to Dick in the past and he couldn’t guarantee the future if he were to misstep. He didn’t give his word unless he could most certainly keep it. Bruce: It was another ten or fifteen minutes before Bruce returned. His expression was no longer grim, but he didn't look any less tired than before. He was surprised to find only Jason and Slade there upon his return and paused in the doorway, frowning. It was no secret to him that Jason and Slade's involvement in what happened at the docks and Jason's confession were what brought Slade to jail in the first place. But he knew at least Jason wasn't thinking about that right now.

"The surgery went well. The swelling is down. They anticipate bringing him out of the coma within the week. After that they will be better able to assess any lasting effects." That part carried weight, but he pushed past it for now. "No paralysis. Before they put him under, he was responsive." Jason: Jason had stepped out for a little while after Slade gave his non-committal answer and had barely went through the door again when Bruce came inside. It wasn’t bad news. It wasn’t a miracle or anything either. Jason was not, by nature, an optimist. He wasn’t going to run with the good parts and make more of them than what they were, but he was genuinely relieved that it wasn’t worse out of the gate.

He nodded and grabbed his bag of bloody clothes. He’d lingered long enough. Slade had insisted that he was staying and maybe Bruce would do the same, but Jason didn’t have the option. “Call me if anything changes. I’ll be at Roy’s.”

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: Under your wings

Summary: Jason didn’t have black wings as massive as the ones attached to his back. They kind of looked like the wings he’d always wanted to have, but most certainly wouldn’t get.  When Jason got resurrected, his wings weren't red anymore.

AN: For the batfam discord’s @thursday-batfam-prompts Wings

When Jason woke up again, the first thing that disturbed him was the weight on his back. His wings weren’t that heavy. Of course, they had gained some weight with them slowly reaching maturity and their full wingspan. Alfred had said to give it another year before-

Before-

What-

Where was he? What had happened? Where was Bruce, he wanted to go home, he wanted his Dad, why didn’t the laughing stop!?

“Breathe, child.”

Jason could hardly see anything through the haze. Vague figures. A hand.

He couldn’t hear and he was choking on his own thoughts.

“Sleep a little longer, child.”

X

The next time Jason woke up, he didn’t freak out. There was no point to panicking about confusing dreams, was there?

Instead, Jason settled on inspecting his surroundings. To his right, Jason could see a lot of medical equipment. Tubes and measuring of all kinds seemed to take up most of the space. On his left, curtains covered a window. The sound of birds and people running around shouting in Arabic reached his ears. Bruce had gotten him started on lessons and that language came to him much easier than the Russian had learned before it.

Jason had a lot of dreams that were just filled with him waking up somewhere he didn’t know. According to Barbara, they were a sign of wanderlust. It fitted that a kid from Crime Alley wanted to go out and see the world. It was rare though that his dreams were as lucid as they were now.

Curious, he threw off the blanket. Jason wanted out and explore the world around himself. Of all the things to hold him back, from terrifying monsters to whatever weirdness he could dream up, Jason didn’t expect bandaged wings.

His wings were enormous for his size, making him look ridiculous. He knew he’d grow into his wingspan, but a kid that was on the short end of the spectrum with bright red wings? Yeah, needless to say, he had heard the whispers (or shouts) at school and hadn’t been impressed. In between all the rich kids with their perfectly regular and average browns, grays and blacks, red wings stood out like nothing else. His wings weren’t any help on patrol either. Coloring them dark took ages. Bruce never had to color his already pitch-black wings, but Jason hadn’t been as fortunate. And trying to get the dye out again? Even worse. It took hours with water if Jason didn’t have the actual dye remover on hand.

As annoyed as Jason was with his wings though, he took good care of them, which was why the bandages were the first surprise.

Their size the second, and their color the third.

Jason didn’t have black wings as massive as the ones attached to his back. They kind of looked like the wings he’d always wanted to have, but most certainly wouldn’t get.

The door to his room opened. The person he saw step into it wasn’t someone he expected his subconsciousness to dream up.

“Talia?” Jason asked. “Huh, alright.”

Talia mustered him, her dark green wings pressed to her back like she expected someone to leap for them. Bruce did that too when he got too wary, or when he was dosed with Fear Gas. Jason had spent most of his childhood before he had been adopted with his wings close to his body.

You could tell a lot about people from the way they held them.

Then, Talia frowned and her expression shifted to worry and pity.

“Oh, Jason,” she said. She sounded kind. Motherly. “Don’t you remember?”

The Joker laughed. Time froze.

The world kept spinning.

Jason had died and the world had kept moving.

X

Training took ages. First, Jason had to regain muscle mass, then he had to learn how to adjust to his new wings.

And new wings they were indeed. Jason’s own had been too damaged and couldn’t be saved, so Talia had ensured Jason would receive a different pair. Wing transplantations had been done successfully only a handful of times, but access to a Lazarus Pit apparently made it a lot more manageable.

“Whose wings are they?” Jason asked only once.

“Yours,” Talia replied.

Jason stopped with his training exercises to observe her. “I meant before.”

She didn’t even bother to look away from her paperwork. The sheets were strange, covered in colors and neat lines.

“They belong to a strong man, and if not broken, they will always keep you in the sky. They’re yours.”

Jason didn’t speak up again.

X

Above him, the stars of the night sky were hidden away behind clouds while below him, the streets were mostly desolate. Jason adjusted his lenses, focused on his target. Then he jumped down from the building, unfurling his wings completely.

I look like him, Jason would think later when watching and deleting the security tapes. Crashing down on the disgusting excuse of a human being, Jason appeared as a vengeful terror of massive black wings.

Good.

X

“I need one of your feathers,” Talia said. “Preferably the biggest you have.”

Jason stopped polishing his guns to face her. “Why?”

“Because I asked you to, so?”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Fine. Just take whatever.”

He returned to his previous task, but sat op straight for better access, as Talia made her way around him. She mustered the feathers, softly moved her hands over them, before coming to a stop.

“This one,” she said and pulled at it so that Jason could feel which one she would take. “Brace yourself.”

Jason barely felt the pain. Truthfully speaking, he hardly got any kind of feedback from the wings. He could control them just fine, but the connection felt dulled.

“Thank you, Jason.”

“No problem,” he replied. “I’ll be leaving for Gotham tomorrow.”

“I know. I hope you’ll find what you seek there.”

Jason didn’t.

X

The new Robin was small and his wingspan frankly speaking pathetic. Barbara’s wings had been broken and her title had been taken by a small predator. There was another girl with bright wings she would have been better off with covering and Dick’s wings, of course, were obsessively clean and cared for as they had always been.

Bruce’s wings were smaller than he remembered. But then again, Jason wasn’t as short, young and naïve as he had been. Naturally, Batman wasn’t as grand as Jason had recalled.

As he had never been.

X

Talia asked him to come back and Jason refused. It would be too much like admitting defeat. Instead, he carved out his own territory, stayed away from the Bats. This was still his city and nothing short of death could make him leave, and even that hadn’t really stuck the last time.

X

It started with a call. One foolish, irritating call Jason hadn’t wanted to answer. He didn’t particularly hate the rest of the Bats anymore, and if they needed back up, he was there. Gotham wouldn’t suffer because of him or their incompetence.

Besides, it was Tim who had called.

Usually, Robin didn’t interact with him. Whether that was because Dick had told him off or because of their history, Jason didn’t know. He didn’t care either. He most certainly wasn’t curious why Tim had such a problem with Jason’s wings especially. Whenever he saw Jason, his eyes kept flickering to his wings and it didn’t annoy Jason at all.

Whatsoever.

Okay, maybe it did.

Jason had grown fond of his dark feathers. It wasn’t terribly hard when they were precisely what he had always wanted to have.

Either way, Tim calling, sounding seconds away from a panic attack and asking Jason to come to the Cave ASAP wasn’t something he was going to ignore out of anger.

What Jason expected to find was a crisis that would throw all of Gotham into disarrange.

Not a child with Talia’s green eyes and Bruce’s frown, waving a familiar feather in Bruce’s face while Tim sat at the other end of the Cave with Alfred by his side.

“What the hell?”

Bruce stood up straight, his cape concealing his wings.

“Jason,” Bruce said. If Bruce was surprised to see him, he didn’t show. “Did you know?”

Jason bit down on his rage. “Know what?”

“About Damian. Talia’s son.”

“And yours,” the child, Damian, added rather hot-headedly. His black wings twitched. “I have your feather as proof. Mother gave it to me.”

“This is not proof,” Tim hissed. “That’s just a stupid feather and Talia couldn’t have given you any of Bruce’s either way.”

“Stop talking to me, Drake. This is a conversation between father and son-“

“My name is Wayne, you damned brat-“

“Enough.”

Jason was getting a headache and if not for the fact that there was Talia’s son standing just a few meters away from him, he would have turned around on his heels and walked away again.

“Don’t antagonize each other.”

“But-“ Damian protested, only to stop talking when Bruce shot him a look.

“I don’t doubt that you are my son, but Tim is right. This feather isn’t mine.”

“But it looks like yours! I saw the photos of your wings. It’s the right color and shape, it even has the dark gray markings at the end. Mother said your wings were completely gray as a child and that’s the only leftover from it. Don’t call me a liar.”

Fighting crime was exhausting. You didn’t get much sleep, your body ached all over (except those times you were so full of pain killers, you couldn’t even tell when you got a new wound or if you were Jason and in general didn’t feel much of anything anymore) and every time you tried to fall asleep, either your nightmares or another gruesome murder would wake you up.

They all got tired, but Jason couldn’t think of a time Bruce had ever emitted such an aura of defeat.

“I’m not calling you liar, Damian. But the fact is that the feather can’t be mine. It cannot have been plucked from them.”

Damian’s face flushed in anger and desperation, perhaps. Your parents’ feathers, the ones they gave you willingly once you lost your last baby downs were something special. Jason had treasured Catherine’s, his real mother who had loved him until she couldn’t anymore, and Bruce’s like nothing else.

“Why not?”

“I don’t have wings anymore, Damian. I lost them a while ago when Bane took over Gotham.”

Jason felt like throwing up.

“Mother said Bane broke your spine and Lady Shiva trained you afterward to take back the city.”

They belong to a strong man, and if not broken, they will always keep you in the sky.

“That he did too.”

“But I saw your wings!”

“Fake. It would have been too suspicious if Bruce Wayne lost his wings at the same time as Batman.”

Jason liked to flare his wings when he left, make himself look bigger than he actually was, but right now he didn’t dare to move his no, no they weren’t they never them even an inch away from his body as he turned around and stormed outside.

Nobody would follow him.

They had bigger problems.

X

It wasn’t Bruce that tracked him down months later (because Bruce was dead, killed by a monster too big for grounded humans. Maybe, if he had been able to fly-) or Tim, who had disappeared with a bang to go on a never-ending search.

He had expected the little brat, coming to him for answers maybe, or Dick once he realized he wasn’t cut out for this Gotham anymore. Jason hardly knew the new Batgirl and he had never even spoken a word to Cassandra.

Somehow, despite her Big Brother-like presence, Jason had never accounted for Barbara.

“Your safe house isn’t very accessible,” she said and moved inside his apartment.

Of course, it wasn’t accessible. It was a cheap shithole in Crime Alley – what did she expect.

“What do you want?”

Jason used to adore Barbara. When he had first met her, she had been energetic and funny, told Batman off and thought Dick was an idiot. She had been bright and every ‘no’ was a challenge.

He couldn’t claim that he knew this version of her. She had calmed down, or maybe just grown as world-weary as the rest of them.

“We tried to find Bruce’s wings after Bane cut them off,” she said, going straight to business and delving right into Jason’s nightmares.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Barbara pushed up her glasses. “I think you need to.”

He could stop her if he wanted to. He doubted that any regular thugs could provide a challenge, her wheelchair didn’t look like standard either and he wouldn’t be surprised to learn that she had hidden all kinds of small gadgets in there. The edges of Barbara’s wings were covered in light steel like those of many police officers. A hit from those hurt immensely.

However, Jason had trained to take down the Batman (lifetimes ago it felt like) and Oracle, while undoubtedly smarter, couldn’t fight like him.

“He took them as a trophy and while Tim and Alfred rushed to Bruce’s aid, I kept my eyes on them. I lost them while they were in Gotham still. We assumed that Bane had hidden them, but perhaps had lost them as well instead.”

“I didn’t know.”

His defense sounded weak in his own ears. He had known that the wings sewn to his back hadn’t been the wings of the closest dead body Talia could find. Every action had meaning for her, every cruel gift well-meant wasn’t just efficient but a puzzle to solve.

He should have insisted. He should have kept asking.

“When I woke up, really as myself and not full of rage or catatonic, they were already there. Talia meant well, she only wanted to help.”

Barbara kept silent for a while, let her gaze drift to the blood on the ground, the guns on the table and the take-out food on the mattress. Jason hadn’t been handling things well in the last weeks.

“In winter,” she spoke up suddenly, “when Dick and I were young, Bruce used to cover us with his wings on observation missions because we, young and stupid, refused to put on the ugly winter uniforms. The two of us could fit right beneath one wing with still so much space left over.”

Jason remembered that. Bruce always covered Jason with his wings every time he felt like he had an excuse for it. There was no word to describe the warmth Jason had felt then.

“What do you want, Oracle?”

Barbara crossed her arms, still the perfect picture of resistance.

“I need you to come home and work with us. We’re missing three of our heavy hitters and Dick’s busy trying to reign in Damian half the time they’re on patrol. You feel ashamed of these wings? Then do something worthwhile with them. I need to be able to count on you and I need you to actually cover us. This city’s never been alright when even one of us is gone.”

Alright. Okay.

Jason could understand desperation. You didn’t claw your way out of your coffin simply because you felt like it. He could do this.

He had to.

[hollyhock13]

All I Want for Christmas is You

AN:  This is for @nerdkate88‘s prompt “First Christmases / First Christmas traditions / How Christmas evolved for the Waynes” for the Batfam Christmas Stocking exchange on Tumblr and AO3. Special thanks to @ursapharoh05 for helping me get this done and presentable. 

 Alfred planned for this Christmas as any other.  He, with his army of caretakers, bakers, decorators, and otherwise titled helpers, had once again transformed Wayne Manor into a cheerful vestibule of holiday cheer.  Never mind that it had all gone to waste again this year.

 He tries to banish that thought from his mind.  No, he has done his job, and he has done it well.  As valet to the only remaining Wayne, it is vital that he oversee the remaining details.  The phone rings. He answers it as he has done so many times prior. The conversation with the planner executing this year’s charity gala goes exactly as expected, and Alfred rests the handset back in its cradle to end the call.  He sighs as he mentally calculates the tasks that remain. Once, he had forgotten among the holiday to-dos to complete some of his less flashy but more important tasks. He doesn’t forget anymore.

 As he adds “pay the party planner” to his list for tomorrow, the doorbell rings.  Alfred reviews his list of expected personnel and finds he is quite correct in not expecting any until tomorrow at the earliest.  Most don’t work on Christmas, regardless of religious affiliation, as it is a national holiday. Alfred hesitates just a moment before moving toward the door to peek out the window.

 A huddled mountain of clothing and skin red from the cold greets his cautious eyes.  Perhaps a homeless man or woman who has heard that the Waynes are kind to such persons down on their luck.  Perhaps a criminal meaning to catch him off-guard and rob them blind. Or—he catches himself before he can dwell on that particular thought.  This requires a decision, and a quick one. He makes up his mind and reaches for the lock. He is Alfred Pennyworth, of Her Majesty’s Special Forces. He can take any ruffian who might be at the door. He turns the handle and faces his unexpected guest.

 A pair of familiar blue eyes blink down at him.  “Alfred?”

 “It can’t be.”

 “It’s me.”

 “You’ve grown.”

 A half-sob and a laugh.  “Yes. May I come in?”

 Alfred steps to the side.  “You may as well. It is your house, after all.”

 The mountain of a human being that has revealed itself to be Bruce Wayne takes a step inside the door.

 “May I take your coat, Sir?”  Alfred asks his once-charge with a lump in his throat.

 The smile that has been flirting with the corners of Master Bruce’s mouth flees.  “I—. Yes, thank you. How—how have you been, Alfred?”

 “My health has been adequate.  And yours?” He doesn’t mention how he feels he has aged ten years for every moment his young charge had been gone.

 “Mine has been the same.”  Bruce doesn’t mention the scars that Alfred can see now litter his arms with the removal of his (inadequate) coat.

 “Where have you been?” Alfred asks around the lump in his throat that has only grown.

 “Everywhere,” Bruce replies.  “I’ve set foot on every continent.  I’ve learned languages and techniques from all over the world.  I’ve eaten local foods in over a dozen different countries and not one of them can hold a candle to your cooking.”

 Alfred doesn’t point out that most of their food is prepared by a professional chef.  “Is that so, my boy?”

 Bruce seems to crumble at the familiarity.  “It’s true. I’ve learned hundreds of fighting techniques, but never to kill.  I’ve got a plan, Alfred, to help the city.”

 The butler gathers his boy into his arms.  “Can it wait until after Christmas?”

 “...Yes.”  And it does.

   Dick has never seen so many presents in his life.  There’s gotta be a hundred, no, a THOUSAND of them!  He stares at them for all of twenty seconds before he’s attempting to climb the pile.

 “Master Richard, it will be much easier to open your gifts if you are not dependant on them for structural stability,” Alfred says.

 Dick frowns and slides down the pile.  “      My     gifts?  They’re not for everybody?  What about you and Bruce?”

 Alfred points to two much smaller piles under one of the smaller trees.  “They wouldn’t fit under the tree,” he laments.

 Dick is satisfied by this answer and goes back to ogling the mountain of presents instead.  “How many do you think there are?” he asks in awe.

 “Many.  I do believe Santa got a little carried away this year.”  Alfred and Bruce exchange a look that Dick doesn’t understand.  “Shall we begin?”

 Dick nods eagerly and the two men watch him tear into the shiny gift wrap.  The pile of wrapping paper grows in proportion to the pile of unwrapped gifts.

 Dick starts to wane about halfway through the enormous pile, so they take a break for hot cocoa (and coffee) with cookies and breakfast.  Dick stuffs an entire handful of marshmallows into his mug. Alfred joins him in giggling at Bruce’s whipped cream mustache. The chocolate chip pancakes with a smiley face are the best thing he’s ever seen!

 The rest of the presents are unwrapped quickly without much attention paid to what is inside.

 Long after the pile of presents has been exhausted, Dick climbs into Bruce’s lap.  “Bruce?”

 “Yeah, Chum?”

 “Thanks.”

 “Sure, Chum.”

 The sniffle is unexpected, and Dick tries to play it off.

 “Chum?  Are you alright?”

 “Yeah, I just got a cold.”  It’s a lie and they both know it.

 “Did you not get something you wanted?” Bruce asks quickly.

 “No, it’s not that.”  Another sniffle escapes, then a sob.  “Do you still miss yours?” Dick asks before he can stop himself.

 Bruce takes a moment to think.  “Yes,” he answers honestly, “every day, but especially for big moments like this.  But it gets easier after a while.”

 Dick turns his face into Bruce’s shoulder to muffle the next sob.  “I want them back!” he cries. “I don’t want it to be easier, I want them back!”

 “I know.”  The day doesn’t get any easier, but they do manage to enjoy some of it.  Dick goes to bed with one of his new stuffed animals tucked under his arm, and one of his old ones tucked under the other.

     The best thing about Christmas is the food, Jason thinks. Cookies and turkey and ham and pie and mashed potatoes and as much gravy as he can fit on his plate make for a happy boy.  Even better, though, are the abundance of fruit and vegetables. Everything from corn, peas, and green beans to oranges, apples, and pomegranates!  If he tries, he thinks he can put every color in the world on his plate. He’s even pretty sure that Alfie will let him if he wants to try. He takes some of everything, and he refuses to leave the table until he’s finished his plate, though not for lack of trying on Bruce’s part.

 “Jay-lad!  Don’t you want to come play with some of these?”

 A shake of his head.  There’s collard greens too!

 “My boy!  Look at this helicopter!”

 Oh ho ho!  There’s a whole drumstick left! Score!

 Bruce sighs in defeat.

 Jason is starting to slow down, but he's still eating even though he’s starting to think he's going to make himself sick.  And then he takes a bite of the cauliflower. He makes a face, gags, and takes another bite.

 “Jay, if you don't like it you don't have to finish it.”

 Jason nods and takes another painful bite.

 “Jay, nothing bad is going to happen if you don't eat the cauliflower.”

 “What if we get hungry later and I didn't eat it and it goes to waste?” Jason demands.

 “Then we'll get some different food,” Bruce replies.  “There will never be a shortage of food in this house.

 “But mom says…” the boy trails off and clamps his mouth shut.

 “What does your mom say?”

 “She says to eat when we got food. To save the cans and stuff for when it's bad, but never let it go to waste.”

 “That's a good philosophy, buddy, but the truth is that we made enough so that we could have leftovers. There's no way we can eat it all tonight.”

 “Then what are we going to do with it?!” Jason demands, surveying the feast.

 “We're going to wrap it up and put it in the fridge and the freezer to keep it good,” Bruce assures.  “It will be almost as good as if we ate it right this second and it keeps us from getting too full.”

 “How can you be sure the electricity will stay on, though?” Jason demands.

 “Because we pay our bill in full and on time every month.  It won't be a problem.”

 “Mom said she payed it sometimes too, and then the lights went out anyway.” Jason stares at the remaining mound of food on his plate as frustrated tears leak from his eyes.

 “How about we put it in the freezer? That way, if the power does go out, we can get it connected again before it thaws completely.”

 Alfred nods in agreement when Jason looks at him for confirmation.   Jason nods slowly. “Okay.”

 “Alright, let's get some of those leftover containers.  Do you know where they are?” Bruce asks Jason.

 He shakes his head and Alfred steps in.  “Allow me, young masters.”

 Alfred disappears for a few minutes and returns with stacks of Tupperware.  “Shall I inform you how to fill these properly?” He asks.

 Bruce and Jason both nod.  After a quick demonstration, the younger ones start enthusiastically filling containers.  The mountain of containers is a mountain of packaged food in under a half hour. Bruce and Jason are very pleased with themselves as they ferry food to the chest freezer that Alfred keeps for such occasions.  Jason warms up a little after that.

     Her funeral was held on Christmas Eve, and her husband wasn’t there.

 Tim doesn't cry at the funeral, or when they get home.  He goes to bed.

 Dick spends the night at the manor, though whether he's there for Tim or Bruce is anyone's guess.

 Christmas morning dawns quietly at Wayne Manor, with nobody up and about, not even Alfred.  Tim wakes first, as the others stayed up for patrol. He doesn't want to encounter anyone, so instead of heading for the tree and the gifts piled there he turns toward the kitchen for a glass of water and maybe some toast.

 It takes him a moment to find a glass, and then another to find bread and a toaster. He's never been in this kitchen without another person before, and it seems colder, more clinical than it ever had before.  Tim realizes he doesn't want to be alone. He leaves the bread toasting in the toaster and heads back up the stairs.

 Tim pauses at the top.  He'd been seeking company, but he realizes now that he's not sure whose company he should be seeking. Bruce is not someone he wants to disturb for any reason. Alfred works so hard all the time, he doesn't want to disturb his rest.  And Dick, he hardly knows Dick for all that he's admired him from afar for so long. He stands there, paralyzed by indecision and what feels like tears building in his eyes.  “Why now?” Tim mutters to himself as he presses his hands to his eyes.

 “Tim?” Asks a voice from somewhere beyond the colors blooming against his eyelids.

 He drops his hands instantly to see Dick Grayson bending to look him in the eyes.  “You alright, kiddo?”

 Tim nods woodenly.

 Dick offers him a soft smile.  “You know, I've always found that opening gifts is a pretty good way to distract myself from the unpleasantness in the world, at least for one morning.”

 Tim takes the suggestion as what it is: a tentative offer for some comfort through material things.  He nods.

 Dick's smile gets a hundred times brighter, but before Tim can regret agreeing to this odd form of retail therapy, Dick has taken him by the arm and dragged him into Bruce's room without knocking.

 “Psst.  Bruce. It's Christmas.”

 Bruce checks the alarm clock on the table with the one eye he's cracked open at the stage whisper.  “I'm tired, Dick. We can start Christmas later.”

 “Tim's here too.”

 That gets a bigger reaction.  Bruce rolls over to squint at the two of them.  Tim thinks that he must look really quite pathetic because Bruce sighs and begins making motions to get up.  “Fine. I'll be down in ten minutes. Don't bother Alfred if you don't have to.”

 Dick chirps, “Okay!”

 He drags Tim out of Bruce's room  and back to the room where he had spent the night.  “If you want to be wearing any clothes for the rest of the day, now is the time.”

 Tim blinks at that declaration.  Where might they be going? Are they planning to stay here?  He chews on his lip for a moment. Maybe this is a trick question and they really spend all morning in pajamas. He decides on putting on a warm hoodie over the top of his pajamas. He turns back to Dick, who is still grinning like he's won the lottery. Although, Tim thinks, considering the house they're both in, he kind of has.

 Dick quite literally pulls him out of his thoughts by taking his arm and tugging him toward the stairs.  “Come on, it'll be fun! Promise.”

 Bruce steps out of his room looking very tired.  Tim is immediately hit by guilt that effectively knocks him out flat.  Dick must notice something, because he turns to Tim with concern in his eyes.

 “You okay, Timbo?”

 That, of course, makes Bruce turn to survey him, and Tim is positive he can see every feeling Tim's ever hidden written right there in his face.  Tim nods to try and escape this scrutiny, but they only redouble their efforts.

 Bruce finally asks, “What is wrong, Tim?  Did Dick pressure you into this?”

 Dick squawks at the accusation but ultimately doesn't speak.  Tim shakes his head.

 “I'm sorry we woke you up,” he says instead, “I know you had a late night.”

 Bruce frowns.  “You're fine,” he says.  “You can always come to me.”

 “I--you're so busy, it's not--”

 “I'll always have time for you, Tim.  Would you like to go downstairs?”

 Tim nods.  “Yeah, I'd like that.”

   Damian is sulking.  He admits it only in his head, but he's quite certain this is what the word means.

 Richard is definitely sulking.  He is upset that his so called family are scattered around the globe: Cain in Hong Kong, Drake in Paris the last they had heard, and Todd wreaking havoc in Gotham but refusing any and all attempts at reconciliation (ridiculous though Damian himself may find the concept) and Father…  Father is dead. Damian tries not to dwell.

 He goes back to his sulking instead.  This is the most ridiculous holiday he has ever encountered.  Who makes a holiday based around family and gifts when there are people who have neither?  Damian scowls. This is ridiculous indeed.

 Grayson intrudes upon Damian's bedroom to greet him.  “Hi Li'l D. You ready for presents?”

 Damian scowls again.  “I am not. I did not realize I was expected to give you gifts in return,” he admits.  “I have no such offering for you or Pennyworth.” His cheeks burn.

 Grayson doesn't miss a beat.  “That's alright, little D. I've gotten a lot of presents in my day.  Maybe I can take you out shopping tomorrow for a present for Alfred in any case.”

 Damian nods slowly.  If he plans it correctly, he may also be able to pick a gift for Grayson.  “That would be acceptable.”

 Grayson gives him another one of his large grins.  “Great! Then come on down!” 

 Damian follows Grayson's bounds at a much slower pace.  He is quite certain that the man is performing for his sake, as he knows he had been upset to be rebuffed by his siblings.  Damian scowls again. Why had no one told him about the traditions of this holiday? If he had known he would at least have had a gift to offer Grayson as poor restitution.

 Damian looks up as they enter the entry hall.  He knows the large tree would only fit in this open area before the stairs where the ceiling doesn't close them in (it's a three story room), but he hadn't realized the space would be required for the      mountains     of gifts that had somehow been acquired without his knowledge.  The wrapping paper shines in the light from the tree.

 Grayson nudges him with a grin.  “It's pretty, right, Damian?”

 Damian closes his mouth with a snap.  “Tt. It is acceptable.” He regrets his words when it makes the smile on Grayson's face fade.  He turns to look at the gifts again to assuage his guilt. “To whom are these addressed?” He asks instead of trying to apologize.  That urge is just weakness, he reminds himself.

 “Well, some are for me, and some are for Alfie, and there are some for Cass and Tim when they get home, and a couple for Jason in case he decides to show up and a few for Babs and one or two for Stephanie…” Dick smiles at Damian's impatient scowl.  “But the majority are for you.”

 “Of course,” Damian sniffs, “you would be lost without me.”

 “Absolutely,” Grayson agrees.  “You ready to get started then?”

 Damian nods, and they begin.

   It's been a long year, Bruce thinks.

 Although, now that he thinks about it, it's been several long years.  Probably more than ten long years. He's quite certain he didn't know what he was thinking when he took in one child, let alone the FIVE who are now terrorizing what was supposed to be his lazy Christmas morning.

 “Damian, give that back!  It's mine and you know it!”

 “It was not addressed to anyone, Drake!  Grayson has informed me that that means it is a family gift!”

 “It only didn't have a name because it was from Cass!”

 A wrestling match breaks out on the other side of the room. He's not entirely sure who is involved until Cass emerges the victor with Dick pinned to the ground.  She grins and doesn't let him up until he looks properly defeated to her own inscrutable standards.

 Jason is tossing popcorn at Damian while he yells at Tim, attempting, as far as Bruce can tell, to get it to land in his hair. Damian whirls on him when a kernel lands in his ear. Jason is tackled and Tim takes the opportunity to snatch the gift that Damian had been trying to claim off the floor.

 Alfred approaches from the kitchen with a tray full of breakfast, which he passes off to the swarm of children. There is not a crumb left by the time it gets to Bruce.  He groans. “What have I done to deserve kids like this?” He asks in a tone dangerously close to a whine.

 “Oh, I don't think that is a question you want to ask, Master Bruce.  The real question is, what have I done to deserve this?” The question is said lightly, almost laughing so Bruce thinks it's a joke.

 A wrapped gift hits Bruce right in the belly and it isn't soft. “Hey! You next, old man!” Jason shouts across the room. The other kids stop fighting and gather around to watch.

 Bruce opens the gift with the wariness of someone expecting a prank.  The kids goad him on with cheers and shouts which do not ease his worry.

 The paper is removed to reveal a small box with a well-known jewelry company logo stamped across it.  He lifts the lid to see the ugliest watch on which he's ever laid eyes. He lifts it out of the package, not sure if this is some kind of mistake or joke.  But...Jason likes that style of watch band, and Damian would have insisted on the Roman Numerals on the face. Cass must have picked the garish gemstones and Dick would have liked the hideous color combinations.  He flips it over. There's Tim, in the practicality of a waterproof, atomic, and, he's certain, tech-infused watch.

 Bruce's eyes water.  These are his kids, how could he have been complaining?  It's still a hideous watch, but it was a gift. From and of his children.  Speaking of his children…

 “Well?”

 “Does he like it?”

 “I can’t tell.  Do you like it, old man?”

 “It's ugly!  I can't believe we've given Father an unattractive watch!  Father, I shall punish them all for their disgusting choices!”

 “Damian, I love it.  Please don't hurt your siblings.  Thank you. All of you. It's the best Christmas present I could have received.”  He turns away to keep the happy tears in his eyes from leaking out. He's content for almost thirty seconds.

 The silence is broken with a vengeance.

 “Pay up, you cowards!” Jason crows.  “I told you we could make him cry by giving him an ugly watch!  You all owe me fifty bucks! Except Cass, who you also owe fifty bucks.”

 The other three boys groan.  “I thought you meant tears because it was so ugly!” Dick complains.

 “Yeah, since when do sappy tears count?” Tim whines.

 Damian breaks in with, “The tears never fell!  You are claiming a false victory!”

 Another fight breaks out and Bruce sighs.  What did he do to deserve children like this?

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Best Friends

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC/BatFam - Tim Drake/Red Robin

Rating: PG

Original Idea: I told @batboys-and-other-messes that I’d write a Tim Drake one-shot for her due to her love of Tim Drake. So... here it is.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I really didn’t want to write anything to do with a “stereotypical-Tim” (endless coffee and no sleep) so I made this. And it was fun but I’m not as familiar with his character as I am with Jason and Dick so... I hope this is okay.

^^^^^

"You are so DEAD, Red!" you shout, slamming your entire hand on the joystick.

Through your headset, you hear your best friend laugh. His kart on the screen pulls ahead of yours. "Mwahahaha! I've been biding my time for two laps to pull that off!" he exclaims.

You growl into your microphone and tilt the joystick forward as far as possible while pressing the accelerator as hard as you can to give chase. "I hate you, Drake," you snap. You both know that's a blatant lie---which is why Tim just laughs.

Then stops abruptly.

"Wait. Hang on a sec," he says. The game pauses.

"What's up?" you ask.

There's a clattering noise through your headset-like Tim has put his down. Faintly, you hear him answer a ringing phone. "N'yello?"

A pause.

"Uh-huh."

Another.

"Okay.

And another. This one drags for a while.

"Uh… what's that got to do with me?"

There's a very brief moment of silence before---

"WHAT?!"

You pulled your headset away from your ear a little to maintain the integrity of your hearing.

You hear Tim grumbling. "Ugh. Fine. Bye."

There's clattering and Tim's voice is closer now. He's put his headset back on. He unpauses the game. "So what was that about?" you ask curiously.

There's a moment of silence as you both take a sharp corner, your digital kart tires screeching. "There's a stupid party coming up. And I have to go to it. But after what happened last time, I'm not allowed to go alone," he said.

"Which time was last time again? There have been so many party incident stories that I can't remember their order."

Tim grunts. "I threw an M&M at Damian so he threw a shuriken at me and I dodged of course because I guessed he'd manage to have something like that on him even though Bruce literally waved a metal detector over everyone before they left for the party. But since I dodged it got lodged in the wall---after slicing the single shoulder strap of a woman's dress clean off and making it… well… fall down."

"Oh that time," you deadpan.

"Yeah. So Bruce won't let me go alone."

"You won't be alone though, will you? I mean, your family will be---SHOOT!" Your shout makes Tim yelp-as he crosses the finish line ahead of you by a single kart-length. "I hate you, Drake!" You both know it's a lie but it makes you feel better about losing.

"Well that certainly puts a damper on my plan to ask if you'll go to the party with me," Tim says.

You drop your controller. "… What?"

Tim sighs. "You. Me. Party. Sort of a date situation. Or not. Whichever. But yeah, the whole family is going to the party but I have to have a date so that I can't get into too much trouble. And we both know that you're the more talented at self-control between the two of us."

He was right, but that didn't always mean you had self-control. He just had… less. Remarkably.

Not as bad as his brothers---Jason was ridiculously impulsive despite how calculating he was and Dick tended to leap first, look for a net second---but still. Having you around tended to result in fewer stupid decisions.

"Besides," Tim carries on. "Apparently Damian is too young to go to the party. So, score for me. But that also means you'll have less to worry about. If you agree to go. If you don't hate me."

"I don't, Timbo," you say with an affectionate chuckle. "But it seems rather rude to put the responsibility of keeping you in line on my shoulders."

"No, no!" Tim exclaims. "It's not… it's not your responsibility. I should have clarified. Sorry. It's more of a…" He clears his throat awkwardly. "Where do you want to race next?"

"Timothy. You're changing the subject," you accuse.

"Seriously, though? Where?"

You selected a track. "Back to it not being my responsibility to keep you in line," you say.

"Yeah. I just… I mean, Bruce said…" He swore under his breath. "I want to impress you so I wouldn't act like an idiot at a party like that."

You pause the race before it even starts. "Huh?" you ask, rather eloquently.

"I, uh… I like you. In a more-than-a-friend way," he admitted.

You glance down at your controller. The sleek plastic slightly sticky from years of sweaty hands during stressful moments in video games. The tooth-marks on the joystick from the time it got jammed and you bit and yanked to fix it. The worn-down buttons that don't click as sharp as they used to when they were new. You and Tim played many games this way. Connected over headsets, chatting as though you were in the same room. Sharing deep thoughts and profound observations---or memes, depended on the day---even though several miles separated you.

"Our rooftop. Twenty minutes," you say, setting your controller down.

"Yes boss," he replies jokingly---and perhaps a little anxious---before you take your headset off.

^^^^^

The rooftop was the top of some fancy business building. You and Tim had found out it was the best place to hang and be alone together in the entire city. The rest of Tim's family rarely touched down on it so you two had time to hang out.

You reach the rooftop first. It's got an observation deck. You sit on one of the benches overlooking the city. Searchlights sweep back and forth, circles of light passing over the clouds with beams visible in the pollution. Your mind dwells on several things as a cold wind blows the storm in over the city.

The first is all the nights you and Tim have spent up here. The cold wind blowing. It's always cold the higher up you get. So many nights up here. Sitting side-by-side. Tim ranting about some case he's working on. Sometimes pacing up-and-down. Sometimes you brought fresh eyes to his cases and gave him ideas that would make him freeze in his tracks, stare at you, and, once, literally exclaim, "EUREKA!"

Dork.

The other thing your mind couldn't stop thinking about was Tim's confession. More than a friend. Really?

"Hey," a familiar voice greets.

Tim vaults up and over the edge of the skyscraper, staff in hand, and lands smoothly on the roof behind you. He trots over and sits next to you with a spin of his staff.

"Hi," you reply.

"Did I freak you out? I didn't… I didn't mean to tell you that… that way," he said.

You smile slightly. "No not really. Honestly, I don't think anything could freak me out anymore. But… thanks for telling me. And, uh… I'd love to go as your date to the special party."

If it weren't so dark you'd be able to see Tim blushing under his cowl. As it is, you know him so well that his shoulders lifting to his ears and his head turning away from you meant he was trying to hide his blush.

There's a moment of shuffling and he removes his cowl completely. "Thank you," he says, patting his hand on top of yours. "For agreeing to go with me. And… I'll understand if you… don't want to… make things awkward afterward. Like I did."

You grin and sneak a peek at him from the corner of your eyes. "Tim. For being a genius, you're such an idiot!" you say.

He blinks. "Huh? What do you mean?"

You take his hand---the one he'd rested on top of yours. "Tim. Come on. You're my best friend. And I couldn't think of anyone better to date than my best friend," you say.

A spotlight sweeps over the roof from way down below on the streets on its random setting. The light that passes over you and Tim illuminates that he's blushing bright red---and frankly, you're fairly certain you are too.

He looks embarrassed---and a little sheepish. "I… uh… okay. Thank you, I guess? I don't know what to say."

You smile and squeeze his hand. "It's okay. I don't either. So let's not say anything."

Tim's eyes flick to your lips. You glance at his.

You lean forward together at the same time.

You wish the kiss was like it would be in the movies---fireworks, perfect synchronization, closed eyes and soft touches.

It's not.

It's a mess.

Your faces bump together a little stronger than either of you intended---bouncing you off each other like someone had thrown two bouncy balls together with alarming precision.

Your eyes open again and you stare at each other, a little amused and a little embarrassed.

Resolved to fix the issue, you two pull each other close again.

This one goes much better.

So many unspoken things between the two of you are resolved in these moments. The occasional awkward flirtatious comment that made you two blush and look away---sometimes not speaking for a week afterward. The passive jabs at you two liking each other that Jason always made. The tension that you two sometimes felt when alone in a room---especially after one of Jason's jabs or Dick's fawning.

They all go away by coming true.

When you finally pull away from each other, lips detaching with a sucking sound, Tim smiles. "This is going to be the best party ever," he says.

You can't help but laugh and agree.

[gothxmsirxns-blog]

Show Me How You Burlesque

pairing: Batfam x Female!reader

[ part one ] [ part three ] [ part 4.0 ]

plot: Burlesque AU : After graduating college, [Y/N] becomes a dancer at The Dark Knight, a prestigious Burlesque club located in Gotham City as a way to stay on her feet while trying to find a ‘proper job’

warnings: sexual implications, cursing

tags: @memento-scribet @4evahevah @dc-hoe @freethecagedeggs 

words: 4180

a/n: sorry this is late! My life is been a bit hectic lately with a few assignments due the past week and for the next month I’m pretty busy with assignments and end of year stuff for college, but I will try and have chapter 3 up within the next week or two, depending on when I get free time. Also, remember to take the poll on who reader should end up with! As it currently stands, Jason is in the lead with 41% of the vote and Tim is second with 37% of the vote.  

Here is a list of the batfam’s position in the club;

Bruce Wayne - owner

Alfred Pennyworth - manager

Dick Grayson - choreographer

Barbara Gordon - social media, advertising,websites - former dancer

Jason Todd - security

Tim Drake - stage design, special effects

Stefanie Brown - dancer

Cassandra Cain - dancer

Damian Wayne - no job, behind the scenes

Duke Thomas - music/dj

Kate Kane - bar

Helena Bertinelli - table dancer, bar

Harper Row - costume and makeup, special effects.

After being told that she would be the new dancer, [Y/N] was lead into the back and to Mr.Wayne's office in order to go over some legal documents that included her contract, insurance policies, and confidentiality agreements because apparently some heavy hitters from the Gotham social and political circle liked to frequent the club and they needed their secrecy.  

Their meeting didn’t take too long and when it was completed, [Y/N] was lead to the costume and makeup department by the child she had previously met earlier, this time he had introduced himself as Damian Wayne and he was Bruce’s son that tended to help behind the scenes with the recruitment and keeping things runnings by helping where it was needed.

Here she was meet with a young woman who had electric blue hair and a measuring tape around her neck, with her hands skipping through outfits that were hanging on a rail a few feet away from the many vanity mirrors that were lined against the wall opposite the door she had walked through.

“Row.” Damians voice cut through the air and caused the young woman to look around with a displeased look on her face and an eyebrow raised, “Yes Damian?”

Motioning towards [Y/N], who now looked slightly uncomfortable as the two people with her stared each other down with a slight look of disdain on both of their faces, Damian spoke with a stiff voice, “This is [Y/N] she’s the new dancer.” Now he turned to walk away, only to speak once again before actually walking out the door, “Father wants you to take her measurements so  you can prepare costumes for her. The first one for tomorrow nights performance.”

Looking between the two, [Y/N] was slightly panicked. She knew she was starting soon, but the next night wasn’t expected and Bruce didn’t say anything to her about a starting day but she guesses tomorrow night wasn’t too bad.

Harper now looked at the girl for the first time since she walked into the room and she had a small smile on her face as she did, her eyes scanning her body up and down and this caused a blush to rise on [Y/N]’s check as she watched ‘Rows’ eyes wander. The blue haired girl walked towards her with the smile still on her face as she reached up to take the measuring tape off her neck.

“I’m Harper, I’m in charge of costumes and makeup. I also help Tim with the special effects of the show. So fireworks, smoke machine that sort of thing. I need you to take your clothes off “ [Y/N] he removed her clothes slowly and shyly as Harper removed the measuring tape from around her neck and wrapped it around [Y/N]’s waist, pulling her close to her body using the two side of the table before meeting the edge of the tape with the actual tape where it would give an accurate measurement of waist size.

“[waist size], that’s a good size. Now let's get your chest size.” Harper removed the tape from [Y/N]’s waist and wrapped it around her chest, above her boobs, “Can you lift your arms up for me and straighten your back?” Doing as she was told, [Y/N] failed to suppress her blush as it brightened as Harper’s hands wrapped around the top of her chest and then around under her boobs to get an accurate measurement for chest size.

“All good. Next is your legs.” Harper moved down [Y/N]’s body, her hand trailing over the side as she did and stopping at her thigh as she now wrapped the measuring tape around her thigh to get its measurement before moving down further to get the measurements for her calf and ankles before measuring her actual leg length.  As Harper stood back up, her face was very close to [Y/N]’s face, who happened to have a rather large blush that had spread to the entirety of her face from her cheeks and this caused a smirk to rise on Harper’s face slightly as she stepped back from her position in front of the girl to once again look at costumes.

“You took Barbara’s place, right?” [Y/N] nodded slowly as she started to redress, only to vocalise her response once she realised Harper couldn’t see her responses, “Uh..yeah.”To this Harper nodded and pulled out an outfit, a white bra with diamante stripes on one cup and white material on the other with what looked like leaves sprouting from the back matched with a nude bottom covered with diamantes as well with a sparkling belt that provided a puffy white fabric at the back. “This was supposed to be her costume for tomorrow's performance, the theme for costuming is ‘fairy garden’, for some reason. With a few adjustments it will be ready for you for tomorrow night.”

Nodding, [Y/N] looked over the outfit once again. It was pretty and she was sure she would be able to dance in it, having danced in some extravagant outfits before. “Thank you Harper.” Harper waved her hand, brushing the comment off, “No problem.” Turning towards [Y/N], Harper smiled at her and let her hand fall down, the costume almost hitting the ground as she did, “Hey, don’t worry. Stef and Cas are super nice and Helena is an amazing mentor. You will do fine.”  Giving a small smile back to Harper, [Y/N] brushed her hair behind her ear and let out a small sigh, “Thanks.”

[Y/N] jumped slightly as she heard the door slam behind her, she didn’t think whoever entered meant to slam the door, but they did in their haste to enter the room.  A deep chuckle left the lips of the person who had entered and a voice that [Y/N] recognised as Dick Grayson spoke to her and apologised for scaring her, “Sorry about that.”

Turning to look at Dick, [Y/N] shook her head and looked down to the ground and let out a small chuckle, “It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting that.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Dick looked down at the smaller girl and smiled at her. “Come on. Bruce wants me to run through tomorrow night’s routines with you to let you see it and then he wants me to go over it with you again most of tomorrow before the club opens to make sure you have the routine down”

Nodding, [Y/N] turned once again and said goodbye to Harper before following Dick out onto the main stage area, which was connected to the costume and makeup room from one side while the control panel for the lights and special effects were on the other side. On this side stood a man, smaller than Dick with slightly broad shoulders and dark hair that matched that of Bruce, Dick, and Damian and he was fiddling around with something under the control panel. “Tim!”

It seemed he was deep in thought, or deep in fixing something to the point where he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings and jumped at the sound of his, apparent, name which caused him to bump his head against the control panel. He came up to look at Dick, who was biting his lip to stop from laughing, with a hand rubbing his head where he hit it and his mouth spurting a few curses at the panel and at Dick.

“What’s up?” Dick crossed his arm over his chest and used one hand to motion to [Y/N] before returning it to it’s original position over his chest. “This is [Y/N], out new dancer. Why don’t you come over and introduce yourself?”

‘Tim’ now moved his hand from his head and walked towards the duo on the stage with a sheepish smile, reaching his hand out when he got to the two. “I’m Tim Drake. It’s nice to meet you [Y/N].” Letting a smile spread across her face, [Y/N] took Tim’s hand and shook it, “Nice to meet you to Tim.”

Tim then moved back to his position behind the control panel and [Y/N] turned around to face Dick as he explained to her what was going to be shown to her. “Okay, so tomorrow. You will be doing a group dance with all the other dance, a trio dance with Cassandra and Stefanie who used to do the trio dance with Barbara and a solo dance.”

____

“Yes mom….I’m fine.” Moving around her kitchen, [Y/N] spoke to her mother on the phone with a roll of her eyes almost every second as she listened to her mother's voice on the other line, with the occasional input of her father. Reaching up to lift a mug out of her cupboard, [Y/N] let out a sigh, “Yeah...the jobs going fine.”

Of course,the job they were talking about wasn’t the job she actually had but the job her parents had arranged for her to have that she quit before even starting because it wasn’t what she wanted. “Love you too mom.” As she lifted the teapot from its position on the stove and started to pour her tea into her cup she heard her father fussing about how the job they had got for her was perfect for her. “Dad….Dad I have to go. My roommate needs help moving some things into her room.”

She rolled her eyes once again as her mother, for the 12 time during their phone call, told her how proud she was off her and how much she loved her. “Ye-yea-yeah mom. I know. Love you, gotta go.” Hanging up her phone, she placed it screen down on the counter and lifted her mug, taking a sip of her tea and throwing her head back slightly in contentedness when she pulled the mug from her lips.

“Good day?” [Y/N] turned to face her roommate, a tall redhead with a love of flowers who worked as a successful botanist who only took on a roommate at the request of a friend. Nodding, a smile took over [Y/N]’s lips, “It was a very good day Ivy.” Her roommate, Dr.Palmela Isley, went by Ivy because her love of her flowers gained her the nicknames while she was still in college.

“I got the job at The Dark Knight and meet a cute guy and girl.” Palmela smiled and walked to the cupboard, taking out her own mug and filling it with hot tea, “That’s good. When do you start?”

“Tomorrow night. But I’ll be in practice all day with Dick, the choreographer to get the routine down.” Palmela nodded and took a sip of her tea, it was a herbal tea that she had picked up that day and was actually quite good.

“Congratulations, take it your parents don’t know?” Palmela had known [Y/N]’s mother, having met her previously while attending a lecture with Harley on psychology and became somewhat of a friend to the woman. [Y/N] shook her head and looked to the ground, “No, I don’t know if it’s a permanent solution or not. I’ll look for a job that suits my degree, but the pay's good and if I like it I’ll stay.”

___

The next night, after an intense run through with Dick and the other dancers, including Stephanie and Cassandra who were as nice as Harper said they were, [Y/N] was preparing for her first preparing for the first performance of the night. It was the opening performance that included all the dancers that Bruce had, a total of a dozen or so. The costume was different than the one she had been shown the day before by Harper, she was informed that it was for her solo dance which came after Cassandra’s solo and was followed by Stefanies solo and then their trio dance.  

The first costume was a little more basic than the solo costume, it was a simple sparkly leotard that was mesh from under the bob to wear it connects with the underwear with a hold in the side of it that exposed her bellybutton but still looked quite nice and sleek on her.

As she started to apply her makeup in a way that was shown to her earlier by Harper, Stefanie, who had already finished her makeup and looked stunning, came up to her with a smile on her face and placed her hands on her shoulder. “Let me.” With a gentle nod, [Y/N] let Stefanie turn her around to face her and started on her makeup and as she worked conversation flowed between the two.

“So, how long have you been dancing?” The first question was from Stefanie and as [Y/N] moved only her eyes to look to the ceiling so Stefanie could apply some purple eyeliner she answered with a slightly strained voice, “Um...since I was 6.” As Stefanie told her to look straight ahead she did, “My mom is a former ballerina turned psychologist and put me into ballet and gymnastics when I was old enough to start and that developed into me taking on acro dancing in my early teen.”

Stefanie nodded along as she listened to what was being said, “Acro’s my favourite, though I do a lot of aerial work here, I like to always go back to it when I need a reminder of why I dance and why I’m here.” [Y/N] had never done any true aerial work, she had done the simple stuff with the chains the day before but not any real aerial work that put her in harms way and she was fascinated as Stefanie continued to talk about her aerial work and how she did it and how amazing Dick was as a choreographer, really honing in on each girls individual skill for their sets and dances.

“There. All done.” When [Y/N] looked into the mirror, she was slightly amazed as she knew she wouldn’t have been able to do such a good job herself when it came to the makeup. It seemed simple enough, but she knew it wasn’t. It was a dark green eye that blended out into some purples and reds at the edges with some purple eyeliner on the bottom lid with perfect winged eyeliner on the top lid with a simple dark green metallic, and slightly shimmery, lip.

“Thank you Stefanie.” A smile spread to Stefanies lips as she looked over the girl, “It’s not a problem. Here we look for each other and you’re the new girl, so it’s our job to make you feel comfortable here and out there. Best way to do that is with a killer look, so even if you mess up, you look good doing it.” A small chuckled passed [Y/N]’s lips as she looked to Stefanie who extended her hand to the girl, “Now come on. First dance starts soon and we need to be in position.”

Taking Stefanies hand, [Y/N] followed her to where the stage, where the other girls were getting in position. On the stage was 12 chairs, all set equal distances apart and in a set pattern with ties loosely tied around the back for the performance and on each side of the stage, leaning against the stage walls were the dancers. [Y/N] and Stefanie went to the right hand side, closest to the control panel where [Y/N] have Tim a small smile, which he returned. Here they were joined by Cassandra, Stefanies partner in crime, and Helena who would ‘mentor’ [Y/N] and help her with any routines she needed help with, and two other dancers called Tess and Lacy.

As the current went up and the music started,[Y/N] took a deep breath and tried to find her center as she started to dance along with the other girls, starting at the wall and then walking towards her assigned chair that was marked at the back so the audience wouldn’t see it. As she danced, any chance she got she looked out into the audience, slightly amazed at how many people were there and how they all seemed to be enjoying the dance whether they were male or female or whether or not they were with partners or now. The applause she heard, drove her to do better and she got more into the dance, determined to show off and do her best for her first performance. When the dance ended, she took a bow with the rest of the girls before rushing off stage to allow for the first solo performance of the night.

Adrenaline buzzed through [Y/N] veins, she had forgotten how much she loved to perform for a crowd and how much it drove her to do better in her dancing. Helena came up behind her with a smile on her face and she placed her hand on [Y/N]’s shoulder, “You did great out there!” With a smile and a small chuckle, [Y/N] turned to Helena and let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you.”

It was a relief, to know that someone who had been here for so long and was so experienced through they did good, it was a nice feeling. Dick then came up to [Y/N] and congratulated her, and then reminded her that the hardest part was still to come and that was the solo. [Y/N] shook her head and reassured him that she was ready for it, the solo was something she knew, something she had done before because Bruce had insisted she use the choreography she auditioned with, and of course she agreed because it was something she knew and something she had very little chance of messing up having done it so many times.

Now all she had to do was get ready. Sitting down at her vanity, [Y/N] looked into the mirror and saw the beads of sweat start to run down her forehead, not surprising, but it was only a tiny bit of sweat that she was wiping away with her makeup to start on the makeup for her solo and for her performance with Stefanie and Cassandra.

She made quick work of wiping away her makeup and applying fresh makeup, though this one was much simpler than the previous one as it with a simple black lip and white eyeshadow covering both her eyes, as if it was a mask. But, hey, it worked with the costume she had to wear so she wasn’t going to question it, besides she trusted Harper knew what she was doing when she planned all this stuff out. Once she was done with her makeup, she changed into her costume and made her way to the side of the stage and stood beside the control panel, beside Tim, where she could watch Cassandra’s solo.

Cassandra moved so beautifully, her dance was slower than the rest of the girls dances but she moved so fluidly and gracefully that no one really cared. This was her style, her style leaned more towards the contemporary ballet style but was mixed with the sexiness of burlesque and some gogo techniques and it worked so well when she moved that when she finished she was meet with a huge applause, even from her fellow dancers and this left her with a grin on her face as she walked to the side of stage and stood beside [Y/N], reaching down to take her hand and squeezing it gently as she did. “Good luck.” The words were whispered softly into her ear by Cassandra and Tim gave her a thumbs up and a reassuring smile, too busy to talk as her focused on the words coming through on the headphones he wore on his ear.

[Y/N] gave them both a smile as she walked to the stage and to where she would start, she wasn’t starting in the middle of the stage but rather closer to the front where everyone would be able to see her and how she moved, as well as being the location of the chains she needed. As she got in position, letting her hand wrap around the chains, the lack of lights hiding her from the view of the guests, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, waiting for the music to begin. As the music began, she felt the energy of the room change from the graceful bliss that was Cassandra’s performance to a more erotic feel to match her song and dance. She got lost in the music, moving fluidly and quickly between moves and when the dance came to an end the applause she heard was deafening, it seemed that the guests were impressed with the new dancer replacing a crowd favourite. But of course, there was one person in the back simply looking at the stage with a murderous glare as [Y/N] moved, before they stood from their chair, knocking it and a glass over onto the ground causing it to smash as they did.

With a brief bow, [Y/N] moved of the stage and to the side beside Cassandra who congratulated her on a job well done as Stefanie moved to the stage, the chains that previously been there replaced with velvet material that hung in large amounts from the ceiling. Again, [Y/N] watched in awe as Stefanie moved beautiful from her dance on the ground to the dance in the air as Tim moved the fabric higher up, with Stefanie attached to it and moving beautifully. At the end, [Y/N] was sure her heart was going to burst out of her chest as she spun down from the fabric, with the fabric wrapped around her, as it seemed to [Y/N] she didn’t have enough fabric to reach the bottom, but she did, and she spun until she was a foot of the floor and could easily let herself down. Again, she was meet with a deafening applause, like the one received by Cassandra and [Y/N], even from her fellow dancers as she never ceased to impress them when she danced.

Stefanie then walked over to the panel with a smile on her face and her hand strung together in front of her, her fingers locked together, as she rose an eyebrow at [Y/N], “You ready?” Nodding, [Y/N] smiled at the blonde and let out a happy sigh, “Now more than ever.” Stefanie smiled at this and took both [Y/N]’s and Cassandra’s hand, dragging them onto stage as the curtain went down for a moment, letting Tim prepare the stage for their performance, meaning he got rid of the props and the fabric and the chains and anything else that would get in the way of the performance, except the chairs they were using.

The curtain started to lift and the music started to play, and as the lights shined down on the three of them, the dance began. It was a simple dance, compared to the solos they had completed, there wasn’t as many stunts but it was still sexy. In fact, it focused on being sexy instead of showing of the individual skill of the dancers like the solos did, and it worked. Anyone in the crowd would say that it was sexy, and Dick was proud of how it had worked out.

So was Bruce, as Bruce watched on from his position at the bar, having come out during Cassandra’s solo to see how it all went and to see if [Y/N] worked well with Cassandra and Stefanie. Of course, the final dance was shorter than the rest, lasting only a minute, but it was enough to get the crowd riled up a bit more and it still gave him the chance to see how the three moved together and, to Bruce, it seemed like a perfect combination.

As they moved off the stage, taking the chairs with them as the next performance didn’t need them, they were greeted with well dones and [Y/N] was greeted with ‘you did so good!’. And ‘congratulations on a successful first night’.

When the three girls got back into the changing room, the first thing that Stefanie and Cassandra did was wrap [Y/N] up in a hug and congratulated her, telling her how well she did and how she was going to fit right in. However, an unfamiliar voice to broke through them and caused them to silence as they all turned to face it. There before them was a redheaded woman in a wheelchair, [Y/N]] presumed it was Barbara.

“It’s nice to see that they got someone good, with a passion for dancing in to replace me.” She wheeled towards the three and reached a hand out to [Y/N], “Barbara Gordon, you did well kid.”