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#dick kept gunning for damian because he wanted to take damian somewhere safe
nerdpoe · 3 months
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Dick gets his drink mixed up with another persons in the library while visiting Barbara.
He was drinking some kale smoothie thing, for health and stuff, and he set it down to grab a book from the shelf. There was another guy next to him, who also had a smoothie in the same kind of shake-n-go bottle.
They swapped by accident.
Dick checked out his book, said goodbye to Barbara, and took a sip of his smoothie.
That's the last thing he remembers.
He wakes up two days later pinned down by a practically feral Jason, who's eyes are glowing a sickly Lazarus green, with Bruce, Tim, Cass, and Duke all showing signs of losing a fight. He's sore everywhere, and Damian is nowhere to be seen.
"Uh...." his voice cracks, and he's suddenly aware of how fucking painful his throat is. "Hi? What's going on?"
"...Is it really you, Dickwing? I swear to God if it isn't and this is another-"
"Jay I really don't know what's going on, man."
Jason doesn't believe him. Dick is cuffed with anti-meta cuffs and escorted to the cave, where Bruce demands test after test and Dick tells them the last thing he remembers.
Apparently, after taking that sip, his eyes had turned to Lazarus green, and he had beelined for the mansion. Along the way there, he had run into the Riddler.
He had broken most of the Riddler's bones.
That was when everyone had been called in to subdue Dick, who for some strange reason kept gunning for Damian. Hence, Damian was upstairs and not allowed down until they were sure Dick was okay again.
It's concluded that Dick drank some alternate form of Lazarus Water, lost his mind, proceeded to take everyone out with enhanced strength and speed except Jason, who had entered a Pit episode just to keep up, and worked through it two days after consumption.
But who the fuck transported a material as dangerous as modified Lazarus Water in a fucking shake-n-go bottle?
Danny, however, is a little sad that his ecto-shake was stolen by some rando at the library.
Their kale smoothie was pretty good though.
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red-jaebyrd · 3 years
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Best of you
Part one - Fight or Flight
This sequel fic was inspired by this post by @hood-ex. Thanks for the inspiration, Emily.
It had been a week since Dick, Damian and Jason had gotten back from the Fortress of Solitude. Fourteen days since Bruce had shipped them off to the Fortress to recover from their injuries. Fifteen days since Bane had beat up each of them within an inch of their life and hung them by their necks in the Cave.
Once the boys had made it to the Manor and into their own familiar surroundings they had remained in each other’s sights. Neither of them ever leaving the other alone, they were completely attentive to one another. No one had questioned it or commented on it. Even if they had, Dick didn’t care. Both of his brothers needed him and he was going to be there for them in any way he was capable. 
Jason had moved back into the Manor temporarily. He told Dick it was just until Damian started to feel safe again. But Dick knew Jason needed to be around them too.
Dick knew it was just an excuse to stay in close proximity to them. He didn’t call Jason out on it, because truthfully, he liked having Jason around. He liked knowing that Jason was close and safe with them, instead of somewhere outside Gotham in a safehouse alone.
Dick’s concern for Damian increased within their first week back at the Manor. Damian had always practiced hypervigilance when it came to his surroundings whether he was on patrol or in the Manor. It had been part of his training with the League and in turn had become a part of his personality. But ever since the incident with Bane and the hanging, Damian’s hypervigilance had morphed into paranoia. He always insisted on triple checking every room he entered and was jumpy to the touch.
After the first week back Dick and Jason had eased his burden by taking on the first and third room checks. This helped some, but Damian still flinched with every hand on his shoulder or back.
The three of them weren’t on patrol duty yet as Bruce had benched them for three weeks to heal from their injuries. Dick played Cruise Director by organizing activities for both himself and Damian leaving room for Jason to tag along, which he often did. Dick made sure to schedule in exercise to keep their muscles conditioned and downtime either in the library or the media room.
Lately much of their evenings were spent together in the media room watching a movie. On movie nights Dick and Damian always sat together on the couch in the center. Alfred the cat and Ace the dog would always follow them into the room to provide their own brand of comfort. Jason preferred to sit in the back of the room where he could keep a close watch on his brothers and the closest exit. He had even brought in a small table to use as a gun cleaning station.
On movie nights Damian had always fallen asleep first. It wasn’t surprising considering the dark circles under his eyes and his quiet demeanor. The teen hadn’t been getting much sleep at night since they had gotten back from the Fortress. On their first night back Dick had been ripped out of a deep sleep to the sounds of screaming and crying coming from Damian’s room. Adrenaline had torn through Dick’s chest as he frantically rushed to reach his little brother’s room.
The sight of his little brother clawing at this neck and gasping for air had ripped Dick’s heart apart. It had been a sight he had hoped he would never have to see again. Instinctually Dick had climbed into the bed and held Damian close to him whispering reassurances into the young teen’s ear. Damian’s whole body trembled as he clung to Dick like a life line until his sobs turned into hiccups. Dick had finally allowed the adrenaline crash to overtake his body forcing him to curl up in the bed with Damian and fall back to sleep.
After that night Dick had suggested that Damian sleep in his room. He had expected Damian to put up a fight; argue staunchly that he wasn’t a child who needed the comfort of an adult after a bad dream; that he was more than capable of taking care of himself. However, to Dick’s surprise, Damian hadn’t the energy to argue. Instead, had just nodded, grabbed his duvet off his bed and followed Dick into his bedroom. 
They didn’t tell Bruce or Alfred about the nightmares.  Damian had made them promise. But Dick knew that Bruce could hear the screaming too.
Dick knew that if there was ever going to be any healing from this incident, especially with Damian, they all needed to talk about what had happened to them. Of course that was easier said than done. Dick knew better than to think that the other two would go for it. Jason would stop coming around to avoid sharing his feelings and Damian would shut down and refuse to talk. Ideally Dick would need to be the one to initiate the conversation to get them to open up.
Truthfully, deep down Dick didn’t want to talk about what had happened to him either, but he knew he had to for Damian’s sake. The boy was spiraling quickly before his eyes, turning into someone Dick didn’t recognize and it was starting to scare him. Dick had to do something even if it involved dredging up old memories of a time in his life he would like to stay buried and forget.
Except Dick couldn’t forget what had happened because now he had fresh rope burns to accompany the old scars from the last time a rope was fastened around his neck. Thanks to Bane those old memories that had once been buried were now fresh and new every time he closed his eyes to go to sleep. Old triggers Dick once had under control were now at the forefront of his mind eliminating any progress he had made in the last three years to overcome them.
Dick had just started wearing scarves again this past winter. He had missed the warm, familiar feeling of the handmade scarf Barbara had made for him all those years ago. The way the soft fabric would protect his neck from the cold onslaught of an unforgiving Gotham windchill. He loved that scarf and it was a welcome relief to be able to start wearing it again, but now that had all changed. Right now he could barely tolerate wearing a crew neck t-shirt.
As if things couldn’t get any worse, Bane had one of his goons cover Dick’s nose and mouth while Bane had hung Damian first and then beat the shit out of Jason. He had made Dick watch helplessly as his brothers suffered while leaving him to slowly suffocate. Dick had started to panic when he couldn’t breathe and clawed at the meaty hand covering his nose and mouth, but the bastard had held firm. Dick’s lungs burned as he gradually lost consciousness just as Bane had strung up Jason. 
No, Dick didn’t want to talk about any of this stuff with Damian and Jason. However, he knew he had to if he was going to help his brothers heal. This was another reason why he encouraged movie nights, and hoped maybe one of these nights Damian would open up.
It had been a week and Damian had barely said anything more than two word sentences to either Dick or Jason. Bruce had tried futilely to get Damian to open up to him, but soon handed the reins of communication back over to Dick. The irony of Bruce trying to get Damian to open up wasn’t lost on Dick. The more Bruce pushed Damian to talk, the more Damian shut down further frustrating Dick.
Dick was positive that on one of their movie nights Damian would eventually open up. He wasn’t rushing it, but Dick had hoped that Damian would start to feel relaxed and comfortable enough to talk; and to Dick’s surprise it had worked.
“I never did have the tolerance to withstand the chokeholds from my trainers,” Damian muttered completely out of the blue one night. He kept his eyes on the TV screen and his hands stroking the sleeping cat on his lap.
“You’re not…” Dick cleared his throat, nearly choking on his soda. “…you’re not supposed to have a tolerance to strangulation, Dami.”
“I am. It was part of my training and the only skill I couldn’t perfect,” Damian continued, pulling at the collar of this shirt. “One time Mother had a trainer hang me with a rope. It was so tight it dug into my neck and I panicked like I always did when something was round my neck,” Damian choked out a sob at the last word.  “I asked her to call it off, to make him stop but she ignored me. I eventually blacked out. I woke up in my chambers with rope burns around my neck and a migraine. She said I was a failure; that tears and whinging was a sign of weakness; and therefore a disgrace to the Al Ghul legacy.”
Dick put his arm around Damian. He could sense where this conversation was going; that there was some unresolved guilt for actions Damian was incapable of stopping that horrible night. The boy turned into the embrace leaning into Dick’s chest.
“You are not a failure, Lil’ D. There is nothing you could’ve done to have stopped what had happened to us.”
“I was trained to be the best, Richard,” Damian insisted, gripping Dick’s shirt. “I can fight blindfolded. I can manipulate my organs to avoid major injury, I can even hold my breath for six minutes, but I could never stand to have anything around my neck obstructing my airway. I was not good enough.”
“You are the best at everything you do, Dames,” Dick comforted, kissing the top of Damian’s head. “Your mother’s standards  don’t matter here.”
They watched more of the movie in silence. All that could be heard was Damian sniffling and the occasional thud of Jason cleaning his guns.
“I used to get nightmares about it. Feeling the rope tightening around my neck and not being able to breathe,” Damian confessed, tugging at the collar of his shirt again. “Now the nightmares are back and I cannot get them to stop.”
Dick’s whole body tensed at hearing Damian recall the feeling of the rope around his neck. His palms started to get clammy as he remembered Super Woman’s barbed lasso tightening around his own neck as he struggled to breathe and stay conscious. Dick still had the scars from the barbs sinking into his skin. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Now was likely a good time as any to share what had happened to him.
“Me too, kiddo. I get it, but talking about what happened helps. For me that…that wasn’t the first time I had rope tied around my neck either,” Dick shared, rubbing his hands nervously along his thighs. “There was an incident with the Crime Syndicate a few years back. Super Woman, an evil, twisted version of Wonder Woman had a lasso; she called it the ‘The Lasso of Submission’. It stung and burned when she tightened it around my neck.”
Ace climbed up on the couch next to Dick. Sensing Dick’s distress, he put his head in Dick’s lap. Dick welcomed the added weight of the dog and dug his hands into Ace’s fur. The sensation helped to ground Dick so he could continue.
“It wasn’t an ordinary lasso. It not only had the power to make its subject submit to the wielder’s will it also had magical barbs that sunk into skin and held the lasso in place,” Dick pulled down his shirt collar to reveal old white faded scars that peppered along his neck among the healing rope burns from two weeks ago.
Damian’s eyes widened at the sight of Dick’s neck.
“I couldn’t wear scarves for three years and I still can’t wear turtlenecks,” Dick confessed, righting his shirt collar.
“Turtlenecks make you look like a douche…no offense,” Jason chimed in from behind them.
“Thank you for the fashion tip, Jason,” Dick sighed, craning his neck to address Jason.
“Anytime, Dickie,” Jason replied, not taking his eyes off the task of cleaning his guns.
Dick turned his attention back onto Damian.
“Thank you for talking to me about what has been bothering you,” Dick whispered, squeezing Damian into a sideways hug. “I know it wasn’t easy, but talking it out helps to get the bad stuff out of our heads.”
Damian shook his head.
“Talking about my past with the League serves no purpose other than to showcase my weakness and my inability to maintain control over my emotions. Complaining about past events that I cannot change feels futile and pathetic,” Damian said, his voice cracking at the last word. “However, lately those past experiences are all I can think about since the incident with Bane in the Cave.”
“Talking about difficult experiences and working through the trauma caused by those experiences is not a sign of weakness, Dames,” Dick comforted, keeping his arm around Damian and leaning his cheek on top of Damian’s head. “It takes a lot of strength to admit that you need help and the support of your family to help you through this time. I’m always here to listen and help you in any way I can. Okay?”
“Okay,” Damian replied, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.
Silence fell between the brothers again while the rest of the movie played on. It had surprised Dick that Damian would bring up something so personal about himself in front of Jason. Still Dick was proud of Damian for opening up. It had only seemed fair that Dick reciprocated with his own fears and nightmares. Perhaps it would help encourage Damian to open up more with him in the future.
“Is the kid asleep?” Jason asked, making his way to the couch.
Dick looked over and could see the slow rhythmic motion of Damian’s chest rise and fall as his breaths came in deep and even. He could also hear the soft sounds of snoring and feel Damian’s body completely boneless leaning against him.
“Yes,” Dick answered, feeling the shift of the couch as Jason sat down next to him and Ace.
“It’s good that the kid has you to talk to about this,” Jason said, gently petting Ace’s head. “Lord knows he’s not going to talk about this shit with Bruce.”
“You have me too, Jason,” Dick assured, nudging his elbow against Jason’s ribs.
“I know, Dickie,” Jason answered, grabbing the Blu-ray remote and thumbing through the main menu.
“Do you want to talk?” Dick asked.
“No,” Jason answered, keeping his eyes focused on the TV.
Dick nodded. Jason would open up when he felt like it. At least Dick hoped Jason would one day talk to him about the hanging and how it was affecting him. Dick wondered if that was why Jason had asked if Damian was asleep.
“Did – did the League train you –,“ Dick asked, motioning to his throat. “-for that too?”
Jason looked at him with blank eyes but Dick could see the muscles working in Jason’s jaw. Jason turned his attention back to TV as he continued to fiddle around with the main menu options until he found the ‘Special Features’ menu.
“No, but Willis always liked going for the neck,” Jason responded candidly.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry, you didn’t do it,” Jason retorted.
“No, but, I’m still sorry that happened to you,” Dick empathized.
Jason kept his focus on the TV and swallowed thickly.
“I was supposed to wake him up so he could leave in time for a job. ‘7’clock sharp you little shit, or we don’t eat for a week,’” Jason’s lip curled in disgust retelling his story. “He was out cold and wouldn’t wake up. I had to get on top of him and shake him. He woke up in a rage and I wasn’t fast enough to get out of his way. He grabbed me by the neck and squeezed hard until I saw spots.”
Jason paused to pick at a loose thread on the arm of the couch. He cleared his throat before continuing. “I remember clawing and scratching at his hand to get him to let go. It only pissed him off and made him squeeze harder. He finally let go when Mom hit him over the head with a frying pan. Never woke him up after that day, but it didn’t matter. He always went for my neck.”
Dick didn’t know what to say to Jason, which was rare considering Dick always knew what to say to everyone. He knew Jason’s dad was an abusive drunk. Jason never talked about his time with his parents before coming to the Manor only vague stories of his experience living on the streets. This was the first time Jason had ever opened up about his dad. It was probably better to just state the obvious since empathizing only pissed Jason off.
“Your dad was an asshole for doing that to you,” Dick said, breaking the silence.
“Yeah well, others have done much worse,” Jason said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Dick didn’t need to be reminded. He lived with the guilt every day that he wasn’t there to protect Jason from the “much worse” and the guilt only grew in intensity as he glanced at the angry red rope burns on Jason’s neck.
“I’m so sorry,” Dick mumbled, his bottom lip trembling.
“Why do you keep apologizing? It’s fucking annoying. You didn’t do anything,” Jason snapped.
“Exactly, I didn’t do a fucking thing the whole time that asshole beat the shit out of you and Damian,” Dick blurted, glancing at Damian’s sleeping form. The sleeping boy stirred and shifted his position away from Dick to lean against the couch arm. Dick lightly carded his fingers through Damian’s hair.
“I didn’t do anything but watch as he strung up both of you in the Cave by your necks,” Dick continued, swallowing the lump forming in his throat. Ace whined and put his head back in Dick’s lap.
Jason turned sideways on the couch so he was facing Dick and gently placed a hand on Dick’s shoulder. The contact was welcome, but Dick didn’t feel like he deserved it.
“Stop, Dick, is this about Bane? You couldn’t do anything. I don’t – do you think we blame you for what happened?” Jason asked, tilting his head to get Dick to look at him. “This wasn’t your fault. Why are you shouldering this?”
Dick choked out a sob before catching himself. One hand reflexively reaching into Ace’s fur, with the other he scrubbed the wetness from his eyes with his sleeve.
“I couldn’t protect you – again,” Dick muttered, tears streaming down his face. “It’s my job to protect my brothers, all my brothers. I couldn’t do that for you or Dam –“
“- because that Motherfucker had his goons restraining and smothering you,” Jason interrupted. “Bane knew it would fuck you up to have to watch.”
It was true. Bane was a genius when it came to mentally and physically breaking his adversaries. He knew he could destroy Dick just by having him watch Damian and Jason get hurt. And by all accounts Bane achieved his objective. As much as he tried, Dick couldn’t get the images of his brothers’ bruised faces and beaten bodies out of his brain. Not to mention the guilt of being unable to do anything to stop it was eating him alive.
“I know you want to protect us, Dick. I know you wanted to be there for Tim. We all did, but even you have your limits,” Jason continued. “You can’t shield us from everything. Shit happens with this life and this job. We signed up for this. We chose as a team to defy the Bat and go after Bane. How were we to know we’d be walking into an ambush? Fucker’s a menace.”
Dick shook his head and clenched his jaw.
“I know what we signed up for,” Dick countered, pointing at his own neck. “I have all the scars to prove it. But I didn’t sign up to not feel safe in my own home. I didn’t sign up to hear my youngest brother screaming every night from a nightmare, clawing at his neck and gasping for air.”
Or see that my other brother is unable to go to sleep by himself without all the lights on. Dick kept that last statement to himself.
“I didn’t sign up for that,” Dick repeated, shaking his head.
“Yeah,” Jason agreed, leaning his head back on the couch and blowing out a breath.
“I’ve never heard you talk about the Crime Syndicate before,” Jason said, changing the subject. “Was that – was that the first time you told anyone what had happened to you?”
Dick nodded and curled in on himself. It wasn’t a pleasant incident to think about, much less discuss with anyone even if he considered them to be a safe person and Jason was safe.  Aside from the trauma of having a barbed lasso around his neck and getting smothered to stop his heart to diffuse a bomb; there was also the shame of falling so easily into their trap and the indignity of having his identity exposed to the world. It was easier to just keep the humiliation and trauma to himself.
“I thought it would help Damian open up and – ,“ Dick answered, petting Ace with both hands. “I probably should have talked about it sooner. But –,”
“- you thought it would be easier to just keep things to yourself,” Jason said, finishing Dick’s sentence. “I get that, but Dick, I know you. You need to talk things out and you didn’t talk about this to anyone? Not even with Alfred?”
“I couldn’t –,” Dick repeated, shaking his head.
“You know you have me right? if –if you ever wanted to talk,” Jason offered. 
Dick couldn’t believe what he was hearing from Jason. It must have shown on his face because Jason’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead in surprise.
“What?” Jason asked. “What did I say?”
“Jason, I know you and you hate talking about feelings and stuff,” Dick responded, tilting his head and furrowing his brow.
Jason briefly shifted his attention to the TV pointing the remote and turning it off.
“I hate talking about my feelings,” Jason gestured to himself. “But I know you need to get that shit out or you’ll explode.”
“Thanks,” Dick replied, giving Jason a small smile.
“So, do you want to talk?” Jason asked, reaching for the nearly empty bowl of popcorn sitting on the ottoman.
Dick considered the offer. It meant a lot coming from Jason. Jason didn’t offer himself like that to just anyone. Dick had overheard Jason giving Tim the same offer a few months ago. He wondered if Tim was able to take him up on that offer before – before he died. There was no doubt Dick would one day take Jason up on his offer, but not tonight.
“Rain check?” Dick asked, leaning his head against the couch and rubbing his eyes. “I’m pretty beat.”
Jason nodded. He turned the TV back on and began scrolling through Netflix. Dick closed his eyes and started to let himself drift allowing the pull of sleep to overtake him.
“Just promise me you’ll never keep shit that big to yourself again,” Jason said, breaking the silence.
Dick opened his eyes and sat up; an idea quickly coming to his head that would also benefit Jason.
“I promise, but you have to promise too,” Dick countered, holding out his hand to seal the deal.
Dick could see the wheels turning in Jason’s head. His eyes widened as he realized that Dick had just tricked him into agreeing to do the very thing he hates, talking about his feelings. Jason’s shoulders sagged.
“Fine, we have a deal,” Jason huffed, shaking Dick’s offered hand. “Don’t get any other bright ideas.”
“You know, if we wake Damian we can probably get him in on the deal too,” Dick joked.
“Don’t push it, Big Bird,” Jason said, throwing a handful of popcorn at Dick.
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considermewhelmed · 3 years
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Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths- Tim Drake
TW: attempted su*c*de/su*c*dal thoughts, anxiety, depression. 
a/n: hey remember in the Master when I said these would be short fics? Ha. Yeah. Me too. Good times. 
Tag list: @river9noble
Master
“Achilles, Achilles, Achilles come down/Won’t you get up off, get up off the roof?/You’re scaring us and all of us/Some of us love you/Achilles it’s not much but there’s proof.” 
“You may feel no purpose/Nor a point for existing/It’s all just conjecture and gloom/And there may not be meaning/So find one and seize it/Do not waste yourself on this roof/Hear those bells ring deep in the soul/Chiming away for a moment/Feel your breath course frankly below/And see life as a worthy opponent.” 
Tim stood on the edge of the building, overlooking the city. His cape billowed lightly in the cool air, and he took a deep breath. 
‘Red Robin, report.’ Barbra’s voice asked in his ear. 
Tim remained silent, his eyes scanning the streets, but his mind far away. 
‘Red Robin, report.’ She repeated. 
‘Red Robin, are you okay?’ 
A new voice broke onto the comms. 
Dick.
He had been thinking a lot. About Dick. And Damian. Bruce. Steph. Babs. Duke. Luke. Cass. Kate even. There were just… so many of them. So many. One less surely wouldn’t matter? 
He imagined he wouldn’t get a huge memorial like the one for Jason in the batcave- he was choosing this, he did it himself, there was no honour in that. He didn’t mind though, he wasn’t sure he even cared to be remembered. 
They barely remembered him alive, why would death help? 
He wondered how long it would take them to forget him. The voice is the first thing you forget about a person, when was the last time he talked to them all? 
‘Red Robin, where are you?’ Dick.
‘Is his comm offline?’ Steph. 
‘No, it’s online. It should be working. Receiver and all.’ Barbra. 
‘Red Robin?’ Dick. 
He looked down. He’d survived some pretty unlikely things, but this was too much. Too high. There was no way his heart could take his fall, let alone the pavement below waiting for his body. It called his name, whispering the promises of sweet relief with every breeze, the streetlight spotlight marking his entrance to his final bow. 
‘Can you get his tracker online?’ Dick. 
‘Red Robin, come in.’ Bruce. 
‘No. He’s bypassed the security.’ Barbra. 
‘Really Drake?’ Damian. ‘Sneaking off during patrol?’ 
‘Red Robin, report.’ Bruce- and Tim imagined he sounded worried in the way only Batman could be. 
‘Where was his route?’ Dick. 
Tim tuned them out, but couldn’t bring himself to turn the comms off completely. He didn’t have the heart to be alone- he was selfish and desperate. 
He shrugged off the cape, letting it fall to the rooftop, and quietly unclipped his utility belt. He wished he felt scared, or sad, or anything, but instead he just felt numb. Human instinct should be trying to get him back safely to the solid roof behind him, but instead he just swayed in the wind, as if even his own body was impartial to the decision. 
He closed his eyes and sighed quietly, rolling his shoulders back, resigning to his fate. There was no use in fighting anymore. 
That was it. He felt something. Tired. 
Not just tired. Exhausted. Bone deep exhaustion, the kind of exhaustion that made even sleeping a chore. Tears gathered in his eyes, and with each drop his mask got looser and looser. He thought of something to say- some sort of goodbye. Not for them, but for him, for closure. His own eulogy. Last words, maybe? 
Did he deserve last words when the villain he lost to was his own mind? Internal, eternal, and inevitable? It was a dance he’d been a part of for far too long and he was just tired. 
“Hey Replacement.” 
Tim expected his whole body to go rigid, for his instinct to take over, for any kind of fight to bubble up inside him, itching to get out. He and Jason reconciled, sure, but sometimes when he caught him off guard, Tim still had the same knee-jerk reaction. 
Instead, his body just stood there, open and unarmed. It solidified his resolve- even his instincts knew it was over. The idea that Jason could easily shoot him, or push him off the roof didn’t scare him. 
Why would it? 
He could hear Jason’s quiet, heavy steps as the older boy approached. 
‘Red Hood, status, have you found him?’ 
Dick’s voice came over the comms. 
Tim didn’t look at Jason. There was a soft click. 
“No, not yet. I’ll keep looking. Just cover my area Dickhead.” Jason said before the soft click happened again. 
The two boys were quiet for a minute. 
Behind him, Tim could hear the familiar whirring of the mechanics- mechanics he helped design -that indicated the removal of Jason’s Red Hood helmet. A thump after indicated Jason had opted to ditch it on the roof. 
Normally, Tim would yell at him for being so careless with his equipment, especially since Tim worked hard on the last updates, but he couldn’t even find his voice. 
He heard the clatter of weapons hitting the ground, and Jason stepped closer. 
“Come on Timmy,” Jason said softly, and Tim’s chest tightened at the nickname. “You’re shaking. You gotta be freezing.” 
It wasn’t until Jason said something that Tim realized he was vibrating. Even the air was unforgiving in Gotham, and somewhere between his decision to step on the ledge and the loss of his cape, it turned into an icy grip that cut through the thin material of his suit. 
The wind stung his face where the tears had started to slip beneath his mask. His knees buckled and he sucked in a sharp breath of air. 
“I can’t.” He choked out, his hand gripping at his chest. “I- I can’t move.” 
‘Red Robin?’ Dick’s voice cut through the comms. ‘Come on buddy, where are you, I’ll come get you.’ 
Tim couldn’t hear him over the roar of his own blood in his ears, and took his comm out of his ear, throwing it off to the side. 
It was then he caught sight of Jason, and was shocked by the lack of not only helmet, but mask as well. Jason’s eyes had a green shine to them- a side effect of the pit -and they were trained on Tim. 
Jason held out his hand to Tim. “Take my hand baby bird.” He murmured. 
“No,” Tim cried. “I want- I should- I have to- I’m going to fall Jason-” 
“No.” Jason said sternly. “No you won’t.” 
Tim inched closer to the ledge. “It doesn’t matter-”
“Of course it matters dipshit, you matter. I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.” 
Tim’s lip trembled and a sob tore from his throat as his knees gave out from under him and for a split second he was falling- 
And the next he was wrapped in a tight hug. 
Tim reached out instinctually and grabbed onto whatever he could hold, staying as close as possible to the smell of leather, gun polish and sweat, a surprisingly comforting combination. 
Maybe it was just because it meant safety. 
“I’ve got you baby bird,” Jason mumbled, and he could feel Jason bury his nose in Tim’s hair. “I’ve got you.” 
“I’m sorry,” He sputtered through his tears. “I’m sorry, Jay, I’m sorry,” A whole new breakdown washed over him, and he couldn’t get a grip on his emotions. 
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Jason scolded him lightly, and rubbed little circles on his back. “I’ve got you.” 
“I was going to do it,” Tim cried. 
“I know.” Jason whispered. 
“They hate me. They’re going to hate me more!” Tim whimpered. “I can’t- I don’t want-” 
“I know.” Jason repeated. “But no one hates you, Tim,” He promised. “Hell, even Barbra threatened to get out here to find you.” 
Tim buried his face in Jason’s chest and just stayed there. “I’m nothing more than a placeholder,” He mumbled. “I’m a pretender. A replacement.” He sniffled. “I didn’t- I didn’t even want to be Robin. God. I wanted Dick to be Robin. Batman needs Robin.” He was close to hysterics, and god Jason still didn’t know what to do. 
“Maybe,” Jason agreed. “But Bruce Wayne needs Tim Drake.” Jason said quietly. “I’m pretty sure the old man would be lost without you Timmy.” 
Tim shook his head and Jason snorted. “You set up the system in the batcave, make sure the Wayne business is intact and running smoothly, you’ve updated all the security, you always make sure there’s coffee in the manor, and no one makes him smile with bad jokes like you do.” 
Tim stayed quiet, and Jason alternated between rubbing his back and running his hand through Tim’s hair. The boys stood there for as long as Tim needed to and Jason realized how small Tim was because Jesus Christ this was just a kid in a costume and he just wanted to be loved. 
“Can we go back to the Manor?” Jason murmured. “My bike’s not far.” 
Tim didn’t move. 
“We can watch a movie?” He suggested. “I’ll let you pick.” 
“Why are you being so nice?” Tim mumbled. 
“Well… I could punch you instead if you’d like. Not sure that’ll make you feel better though.” He offered, and was rewarded by the smallest, quietest laugh. “C’mon, we can raid the kitchen.” 
“You aren’t going to make me talk?” Tim asked. 
Jason shook his head, tightening his grip on him. “I’m not going to make you talk about anything you don’t want to baby bird.” He said softly. “But if you want to do that, I’m here for that too.” 
Tim tightened his own grip and kept close- Jason was keeping him grounded and that’s all that mattered. “What was it like?” He whispered. 
Jason was quiet for a long moment, and Tim regretted asking almost immediately. 
“Long.” Jason decided. “Dark. Quiet.” 
“Good quiet?” 
“No.” Jason said softly. “Too quiet.” 
“I’m sorry.” Tim whispered. 
“Me too,” Jason mumbled. “You’re not alone Timbo. I’m right here, alright?” 
Tim nodded and pulled away after a moment when he felt like he could stand on his own. Jason collected their things and handed Tim his mask, cape and belt, putting his own mask and helmet back on, clipping his holsters on. 
The ride back was quiet- Tim’s comm must have busted when it hit the roof, and if Jason heard anything he wasn’t giving it away. Jason came up with some half-assed lie about what happened to Barbra and the other Bats over the comms, and immediately claimed the living room for him and Tim, heading upstairs. 
Tim was asleep by the end of the opening credits, tucked safely into the side of his big brother. 
Maybe Tim couldn’t fight the villain in his head on his own, but having someone like Jason Todd on your side certainly made it easier.
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sweet-sammy-kisses · 3 years
Text
Monsters of Past
2
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For my @badthingshappenbingo​ prompt take me instead.  Fandom: Batman Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, and OC Rating: M Warnings: Past rape/non-con, rape/non-con elements, Tim Drake has bad parents (they are the worst) Lots of protective Jason, Cass and Dick Summary: "That is what I was trying to protect you from Damian." Tim's voice was hollow. "You talk about your birthright as Bruce's blood son, that you want everything you deem yours handed to you on a silver platter without knowing that there is a price you are going to pay. Do you know how many there are who would love to have the Crown Prince of Gotham's blood son in their power? Forced to do whatever they want to seal the deal? They are the monster waiting in the shadows knowing their money and power will protect them. I was trying to protect you, Damian.
"To protect Damian Tim gives himself to a monster of his past. Word Count: 2,901 You can also read it on AO3
"Enough is enough. Today is the day that I take my birthright back from Drake." Damian had waited long enough for his father to dismiss the unwanted one, he had already been removed as Robin as one of them now it was time to remove him from his position as CEO - it was his birthright and that Drake was still in his place filled Damian with rage - and once and for all show Drake he wasn't wanted nor needed and it was time for him to move on, far away from them.
Damian had overheard a conversation between Drake and Tam before Drake discovered and destroyed the bugs Damian had planted in the CEO's office the last time he had been there reminding Drake that he was nothing but a temporary replacement until father took back what was his or passed it onto him as it is his birthright.
Tam had brought up the owner of a company that they needed to work with but the CEO was holding out until Tim agreed to a private meeting with him.
"We can't keep putting this meeting off. The board members are beginning to ask questions as to why you don't want to meet with Aiden Tyler."
"I know. His company is doing some good but Aiden Tyler is an ass."
"Tim!"
"I'm sorry but I have dealt with that man in the past and he is a real scumbag and if we didn't need his product I would tell him to go to hell. Call and see if you can make an appointment with him sometime next week."
Damian knew that was his chance to prove he was worthy to take over now, despite his age.
+******+
Aiden Tyler quickly agreed to meet with Damian and the youngest Wayne couldn't help but preen with pride.
"That will show Drake." He will secure the deal and prove once again how worthless Drake is then maybe they could finally be rid of him.
Dressed in his finest of suits Damian arrived at the five-star restaurant where he walked in and owned the place like the Prince he is. "I am meeting Aiden Tyler, take me to him." He demanded.
The host quickly did as ordered and Damian couldn't help but smirk the man knew not to mess with a Wayne.
Led to a booth in the back a handsome man with deep brown hair with streaks of silver the man was fit for nearing his fifties. Dark eyes met his and Damian refused to shiver as they roamed over him with something in them that made him uncomfortable.
"Mr. Tyler, I am Damian Wayne, I am thankful that you could work me into your schedule." Damian greeted him.
Aiden's lips curled up into a smile, "Please call me Aiden and when it comes to Wayne Enterprise I am always willing to make room. I'm sure that we can work out a partnership that is agreeable to both parties."
There was something about the way the man spoke that reminded Damian of a predator stalking its prey. 'Well, Mister Tyler you will learn that Damian Wayne-Al Ghul is no one's prey.' "I hope that as well."
"Well isn't this nice but if you want to do business with Wayne Enterprise you need to talk to me."
"What are you doing here Drake?" Damian hissed out, he couldn't believe that Drake had the nerve to show up here and ruin his chance to prove to his father he was ready.
Thankful for all the train Bruce had given them Tim was able to hide his feelings behind a cool mask as he was forced to face someone he hoped he would never see again unless it was behind jail bars. "I am doing my job, Damian. Now, why don't you run along and leave this to the grown-ups." Tim ordered not suggested.
Damian bristled much like Alfred the cat and he looked ready to spew his usual vile insults towards Tim but right now he didn't care, he needed Damian far away and somewhere safe.
"If you leave now I will not inform Bruce of you trying to endanger Wayne Enterprise's." Tim held up a hand as Damian went to speak, "As you would know because of your age any agreement you reached with Mister Tyler would not be binding. So in order for this partnership to be legal, it is me that must make the deals. Now head home Damian." Tim ordered.
A low growl escaped Damian he hated to admit that Drake had a point, after all, he was not of age to make any partnership legal which is why he had planned on creating the agreement than bringing his father in to show him he was capable. Now he couldn't for that surely end with his father agreeing with Drake. "This is far from over," Damian warned before storming out.
"Such a shame, I was looking forward to seeing what young Mister Wayne had to offer me." Aiden's voice was like nails on a chalk board and all Tim wanted to do was run far away but it was too late for if he did nothing the man would go after Damian again.
'You can do this Tim. You have faced the likes of the Joker and Ra. You can face him.' Tim repeated to himself as he forced the smile back on his face, "I'm sorry but you will have to settle with me."
Aiden's smile turned wicked, "We both know that I won't be settling for you, Tim. Come sit, let us catch up before we get down to business."
Having little choice Tim slipped into the booth.
Tim could feel the vile beginning to build up in the back of his throat as Aiden's hand slid up his thigh. He did his best not to shudder as unwanted memories flooded his mind.
Moving closer Aiden removed any space between the two of them, "I still hope that you cry as pretty as you use to do." Aiden whispered in Tim's ear. "I am going to have so much fun breaking you all over again. It was so sweet of you to offer to take your little brother's place."
Tim wondered if it was wrong that he wished for an Arkham outbreak at that very moment. "As long as you leave Damian alone you can have me instead."
"Agreed." Never had such a word sent pure terror flowing through Tim's body.
+******+
"Father! I demand that you talk to Drake!" Damian growled as he slammed the door to the manor open.
Bruce could feel a headache building, he wished that his two youngest sons could get along. "What now?"
"I had a meeting with Aiden Tyler, one that Drake has been putting off for a month, since he wasn't in a hurry to seal the deal I took it onto myself to see it through."
Cass appeared out of nowhere, her expression hard, "Did you leave Tim with him?" She shocked everyone with her growl.
Damian blinked at Cassandra, taken back by the rage burning in her eyes. "Yes."
Horror filled Cass' eyes before she was moving. Bouncing to his feet Dick followed after his sister, "Cass, what is going on?"
"Tyler hurt little brother in past and is hurting him now." Was all that Cass offered before she was gone, leaving their very confused family behind.
"Yeah, that doesn't sound too good, someone gets Babs on the line and have her find out everything she can about this Aiden Tyler," Jason suggested. Something was bugging him, he had heard that name before and the fact that it made him want to reach for his guns wasn't a good sign.
Worry shone in Dick's blue eyes, "Do you think Timmy might be in danger?" His and Tim's relationship hadn't been the same since he didn't believe Tim that Bruce was alive and caused him to lose his standing in the hero community, he kept meaning to fix it but he kept pushing it off and now his baby brother might be in trouble and he might turn away his offer of comfort.
"I do," Jason growled out.
+******+
At Alfred's suggestion, they had moved down to the cave to do a background check on Aiden Tyler and discovering that Tyler Holdings had a history of deals with Jack and Janet Drake made Jason even more on edge.
He stepped over the edge when Cass returned a protective and murderous aura pouring off of her and a long line of hickies on Tim's neck arrived. Cass was curled around Tim, looking like a mama bear ready to take down anyone who proved a threat to her cub, her sharp glare had everyone on edge.  
A gasp of horror escaped Dick, "Timmy."
Jason knew what those marks meant, he had worn his own when he was living on the streets.
Bruce looked like he was going to be sick, his parents and then Alfred had shielded him from the lengths some would go to get more money.
Though Damian had been raised as an Al Ghul his mother had made sure he would never have to lower himself to serve others so he had no clue as to what powder keg he was about to set off. "What is the meaning of this Drake? You were supposed to be sealing a deal not lowering yourself to be a common whore." Damian snarled at Tim.
"Damian! Enough!"
Shock filled Damian's face as he found himself taking a step back at the anger in Dick's voice, his Batman had never spoken to him like that and he didn't know why Richard chose know to speak up. "Why are you defending him now Richard? I am only speaking the truth as I have before, Drake has proven himself to be nothing but a whore unfit to wear the Wayne name."
"I'm only the whore to spare you from becoming one." Tim's voice was soft but it echoed through the cave.
Damian could only blink at Drake before scoffing at him, "I would never lower myself as something so disgraceful. You make no sense."
The fire burned in Tim's dull eyes, "There was a reason that I kept putting off meeting with Tyler. I was waiting until I was sure that Bruce, Dick or Jason could be there with me. The bastard wouldn't try anything with one of them there. He just likes them young and pretty."
"What are you saying, Timmy?" Dick didn't know if he wanted to know the answer.
"You think that this is the first time that I had to give myself over for a business deal?" The laugh that escaped Tim was bitter. "I have been doing this for years. I was a prize that my parents dangled before anyone they could. Now that I am CEO of Wayne Enterprise I am an even bigger prize."
Jason's eyes were glowing green as he realized what his baby bird was saying.
Dick looked like he was going to murder someone.
Bruce looked horrified.
And Damian... Damian looked baffled.
"That is what I was trying to protect you from Damian." Tim's voice was hollow. "You talk about your birthright as Bruce's blood son, that you want everything you deem yours handed to you on a silver platter without knowing that there is a price you are going to pay. Do you know how many there are who would love to have the Crown Prince of Gotham's blood son in their power? Forced to do whatever they want to seal the deal? They are the monster waiting in the shadows knowing their money and power will protect them. I was trying to protect you, Damian."
To no one's surprise, Jason took a protective stance in front of Tim, there were few things he hated more than child rapist, the main one being the Joker, and to hear that his little brother had been forced to entertain monsters like that had him tasting the pit in the back of his mouth and he wanted nothing more than to hunt all those bastards down but that would come later right now all that matters is Tim. "Cass, take Tim upstairs and call those friends of his. He needs to be with people who will love and support him."
It was telling how awful that Tim was feeling as he didn't put up any protest as he allowed Cass to lead him out of the cave, he stopped only once to look at Damian, "You might not believe this but I do love you Damian and there was no way that I was going to let my little brother be forced to do something like that, not if I could protect him in ways that no one protected me."
Bruce collapsed into the chair as he buried his face in his hands. Dick would have offered him comfort but his legs gave out beneath him.
A dangerous growl escaped Jason as he flew a fist at the punching bag, he didn't care what Bruce said tonight he was going hunting.
"I didn't know." A shaken Damian whispered, he thought that Drake hated him just like he hates him but to know what Drake protected him from made his world spin. His mother had drilled into him that Timothy Drake was his enemy and the only way to take his place in his father's family was to get rid of him. "This makes no sense. Why would Drake do that for me?"
"Because you are his little brother and he was trying to keep you safe," Dick answered him with a sad smile on his face. Tim had protected Damian but they failed in keeping him safe. "There has to be a way to fix this." Dick just didn't know how to start.
A strong hand landed on his shoulder lifting his head Dick found himself staring into Bruce's grim face, "We messed up B."
"I know." Bruce felt guilt building up in him, he is Tim's father it is his duty to keep him safe. "All we can do is be there for him. Jason is right though Tim needs his friends here. We need to show him that we love him and are here for him."
No one noticed when Jason slipped away from them he had a monster to hunt.
+*****+
Kitchen
Jason stalked towards the door with purpose in his step.
"Master Jason."
Halting in mid-step Jason clenched his fists at his sides, "I cherish you Alfred but not even you can stop me from doing this." Jason warned.
"I don't intend to Master Jason," That had Jason whirling around to look at Alfred, the man looked calm but Jason could see the storm brewing in his eyes, "I would just like to inform you that Aiden Tyler will be attending a party tonight and from his habits, he will not arrive at home until around 2 am, which at such time the Sirens have promised to keep the rest of the Bats busy," Alfred informed Jason. No one hurt one of his grandchildren.
A wicked grin appeared on Jason's face, "This is why you are the best Alfred."
"Indeed. Now I need to prepare snacks for Master Tim's guests. Do be sure to return tonight and I shall have your favourite cookies waiting for you." Alfred gave Jason a soft smile.
"You rule Alfred." Jason would come back for Alfred and look after Tim.
+*****+
With Tim curled up in a puppy pile with Bart, Connor, Cassie and Cass watching Star Wars. The Sirens leading Batman, Nightwing and Robin on a chase throughout Gotham the Red Hood was free to deal with business.
Aiden was riding a high he had sealed a deal with Wayne Enterprise that was sure to make him an even wealthier man and his favourite toy returned to him. Nothing could bring him down.
That was until he felt the cold metal of the barrel of the gun pressed against his forehead. A red helmet followed and Aiden felt a sense of fear.
The Red Hood was in his home.
"Whoever sent you I am sure that I can pay you double what they offered you."
"I am a Crime Lord I don't need your money and no one sent me. See I have issues with people like you who target children and think because you have the money and power that you are above the law. But you aren't above me. I am here to ensure that no other child is gifted to you."
Aiden had been so focused on the gun at his head he never noticed the second one aimed at his groin until it was too late.
Beneath his helmet, Jason grinned as Aiden screamed in pain on the floor, blood pooling around him.
+*****+
"Is he dealt with?" Dick asked.
Jason grinned at his older brother, "He will never hurt baby bird again."
While Dick wished he had been the one to deal with that bastard he needed to keep Bruce busy, still that didn't mean he wouldn't ruin him in other ways. Someone had sent Clark a copy of everything Babs had dug up on Aiden. He would see that monster ruined, without money and his power stripped from him, until he was as helpless as he made Tim feel.
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mischiefandspirits · 3 years
Text
Bloodlines (1 of 3)
After receiving a vague warning from his mother about his cousin and Richard, Damian goes looking for his runaway ward.
This chapter started as a flashback in the latter half of the story, but I felt like it was running on too long so I decided to cut it out and make it its own chapter. As such the events of this chapter occur a little under five years before the events of the main story, which takes place a few months after “Family Weekend.”
Part of Batkid and Robin
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Damian was surprised to see Nightwing in the Hatch when he arrived. He knew his ex-partner noticed his entrance, but the Super didn’t look up from the conversation he was having with Señal in the doorway to the infirmary.
Taking the hint, Damian turned to E-ko. “What happened?”
“We’re not entirely sure. Izzy and I were both in class and Dax was at work when Dick’s distress beacon went off so only Duke and Dre responded,” she said, glancing towards the infirmary. “By my estimate, they sent out the request for backup almost immediately after they engaged. Nightwing had been finishing up something with Metro across the bay so he responded. Izzy and I were suiting up when ‘Wing dragged them in. He thinks they were fighting talons when he got there, but the guys took off as soon as he got close. Dre was already knocked out -- drugged we think -- and Duke passed out on the way here -- bloodloss.”
“Richard?”
“Your son wasn’t there,” Nightwing said as he and Señal approached. “I didn’t know he was involved until I got here and the girls filled me in.”
“He’s not -” Damian closed his eyes and asked, “Did Signal say anything before he passed out?”
“He slurred something about Cobb and Halloway and I think he tried to say something else, but he was fading fast at that point. Didn’t recognize either name, but I’m not surprised since this seems to be Gotham stuff.”
“Nightwing.”
“Batman.”
Damian glared up at neon blue eyes. “We’re not doing this while Richard is missing.”
“Well, I guess I’ll just stay quiet then. Not sure I have anything to add since I don’t even know the kid.”
The only reaction Damian allowed himself to have was to clench his fists as he turned to Señal. “If the talons are involved, then Cobb is William Cobb. Why would he be after Richard though? The Court has only ever targeted adults for kills and street kids for would-be talons. A child from a prominent family doesn’t fit their M.O.”
“We’re not sure,” she said. “Oracle’s looking into it. In the meantime, Selina’s pulling Stephanie and Jason out of school in case they’re targeting Wayne kids. Cass and Mia are also going to bunker down somewhere safe with Tim if they can drag him away from wherever he is now on his mental breakdown road trip.”
“Don’t call it that.”
The group turned to see Duke slumped against his IV pole in the infirmary’s doorway.
“¡Bobo! Lay back down!” Señal snapped, rushing over to him.
He let his girlfriend take his weight, but didn’t let her drag him back to bed. His chest and arms were heavily bandaged and butterfly stitches were keeping a few cuts on his cheek and neck closed. He was also glaring at Señal. “Lay off Tim.”
“Sorry, I know you want to humor him.”
Duke shook his head and turned to Damian. “We’ve got a problem.”
“I know. We’ll find Richard. Go -”
“No, you don’t understand. Halloway was there. From DCF.”
It took Damian a moment, but he put the name to the face. Cathy Halloway was one of the social workers that gave him the hardest time while trying to foster Richard, but not one of the ones who’d earned his respect because they thought Damian was taking Richard in on a whim. He wasn’t sure if it was Richard’s Romani heritage she had a problem with or if it was the fact Richard was white-passing while Damian had very clearly taken after his mother, but the family had dug up a few comments made by her about keeping Richard “with his own people.”
As if the Gotham branch of the DCF had placed Richard with a family instead of in a detention center.
Backward morals aside, the Bat’s investigation hadn’t turned up anything tying her to the court. “Why was she there?”
The Hatch’s main computer lit up green, announcing Oracle’s presence. “Because Cobb told her he was Dick’s grandfather.”
“What?” Damian asked. Richard didn’t have any living relatives, the Bats checked as had DCF at the Waynes’ insistence. “Why would she believe that?”
“I’m looking into it, but she’s started the paperwork to transfer custody and she was there to help Cobb pull Dick out of school. Selina played it off like she was picking Dick up alongside Steph and Jay then went full PTA mom when she found out they’d sent Dick off with strangers. Alfred’s bringing the little Bats to you while she puts the staff through the wringer to get as much info for us as she can. I’m trying to match our maps of the Court’s labyrinth to what little information from Dick’s beacon is making it through the scramblers so, hopefully, I’ll have a location by the time you’re all suited up.”
Damian made a mental note to bring his own version of hell down on the staff if any of them survived his Step-Mother’s fury then focused back on the matter at hand. “Señal, you know the labyrinth best. Can you see if you can help Oracle? I’ll get Duke back in bed.”
She nodded and passed Duke off to him after giving her boyfriend a quick kiss.
“Sorry, Dames,” Duke said as Damian helped him back onto the medical cot. “The talons cut us off before we could get anywhere near Dick or Cobb.”
“You did your best. We know what we’re facing now. We’ll bring him home, no matter how many talons we have to freeze. Get some rest.”
Duke nodded and leaned back.
Damian returned to the main room and approached E-ko and Nightwing. He asked the latter, “Are you staying?”
The Super gave a sardonic smile. “I guess I should get going. Don’t want to overstay my welcome. Call me if you think the situation is bad enough to need outside help.”
“That’s not what -” Damian started, but Nightwing was already gone. He sighed and turned to E-ko. “Has the Court been up to anything recently that could explain coming after Richard?”
She shook her head. “They’ve been quiet since we reclaimed that youth shelter they were using to try and lure in would-be talons. We knew they’d try to find a new way to bring in kids, and trying to get their hooks in the foster system isn’t too far out there if they don’t realize we’ve been keeping a close eye on it ever since Jason, but going after someone as notable as Dick doesn’t make sense.”
“There has to be a reason.”
“Who cares, let’s just get out there and find Dickie!” Jason called as he stomped into the Hatch. He and Stephanie came towards them while Alfred went off to check on the two in the infirmary.
“Knowing why a person is doing something is very important,” Damian said and Jason scowled.
“It’s not more important than rescuing my Red Bird! Let’s go!” he snapped, shoving Damian towards the changing rooms.
“Rushing in is going to get you in trouble,” Damian huffed, but let his younger brother push him along with Stephanie trailing after.
The three quickly changed into the extra suits they kept in the Hatch in case of emergency then they, Señal, and E-ko set off towards the labyrinth entrance closest to the approximate location Señal and Oracle had decided on.
Batman took the lead, keeping an eye out for danger as Señal directed him through the tunnels. Thankfully the closer they got, the more accurate the beacon's positioning became. He was keeping a sharp eye on everything, looking for the booby traps and talons, so he immediately noticed when Señal and E-ko began to share worried looks.
“What?”
“There aren’t any mazes, meeting halls, or holding cells this way,” E-ko said. “The only things down here are…”
“Labs and cryo-caskets,” Señal finished.
“Shit!”
Batman grabbed Batkid before he could race ahead. “Hold on.”
“Hold on? I’m not going to wait around while those psychos turn Red Bird into one of those monsters!” the boy snarled, then took off down the tunnel.
“They wouldn’t start the process so soon,” E-ko tried to reassure as the four chased after him. “They always start training before beginning the Electrum injections. They want to be sure the investment would be worth it.”
A shadow slid out of a side tunnel and Batman grabbed the edge of Batkid’s cloak. He yanked the boy back just in time for the talon’s dagger to cut through the air in front of his face instead of across his throat.
E-ko intercepted the assassin with her cryo-gun as Señal repelled another two with her chain whip.
“Go find Grayson. We’ll deal with these ones,” E-ko called out and Batman nodded.
He led Batkid and Batgirl forward, bringing up Richard’s distress beacon on his gauntlet computer. They raced up to a heavy door that he quickly kicked in once confirming it was locked.
Inside, scientists and talons stood over an operating bed that held a teary eleven-year-old. Thick leather straps wrapped around Richard’s arms, legs, and chest to keep him pinned to the bed. A scientist had been preparing an iv filled with a dark silver liquid while William Cobb had leaned over Richard with his hand fisted in the boy’s hair, but all eyes turned to the Bats at their entrance.
Batkid immediately launched himself at the scientists, ripping the one closest to Richard away from him and laying into them with a fury. Batgirl and Batman tossed liquid nitrogen pellets at the talons, partially encasing three of them in ice to put them into hibernation. Batgirl engaged another two talons while Batman tackled Cobb.
“You must be getting desperate for new talons if you’re starting to steal children from Gotham’s old families, Talon.” Batman ducked one knife strike, deflected another, then landed a blow that snapped Cobb’s arm with a loud crack.
“Wayne was the one who stole him,” Cobb spat, disengaging just long enough for the Electrum to twist his bones back into place before slashing at Batman’s neck. “The Gray Son was born and raised to serve the Court of Owls. Just as his grandfather, my son, was before him.”
Batman shifted back in time for the claws aiming for his ribs to cut through nothing more than armor. “Emil Grayson was a circus acrobat.”
“Emil was raised by Nathaniel Haley to be the perfect talon, just as I was. Had Nathaniel not passed before he could return my son or instruct his own in the ways of the Court, then Emil would have surpassed even me. Instead, that fool Cameron spirited my son away to Europe. By the time the Court could reforge ties with the circus, my son was lost to us while my grandson had been raised weak and the Court had no influence over him. We could only ensure that the child he bore would receive the proper training and be returned to Gotham when the time came.”
Batman felt sick. He wanted to deny it, but Cobb had no reason to lie and the Bats hadn’t bothered to look that far into Richard’s family’s past. “The Graysons’ deaths…”
“Not the Court’s work, though it provided us with an opportunity to place the boy somewhere we could have full influence over him.”
He’d never felt better about rescuing Richard from that awful detention center. He fought down a smirk that would be both telling and uncharacteristic for Batman as he slammed his foot into Cobb’s chest, audibly breaking a few ribs. “But Wayne took him instead.”
From his place on the ground, Cobb pulled off his mask to spit out discolored blood then glared up at Batman. “It doesn’t matter. The boy is destined for the Court. Whether now or later, the Gray Son of Gotham will be a talon.”
“Never,” Batman growled, freezing the talon with a liquid nitrogen pellet.
When he turned back to the room at large, Batgirl was taking down her opponents while Batkid had tied up the scientists and was pulling off the straps. Batman went to help the boys, pulling Richard into his arms as soon as he was free. The ladies agreed to handle the talons and scientists so Batman and Batkid could get Richard up to the surface where Oracle had police cars and an ambulance waiting.
Once they were out of the labyrinth and away from any cameras the Court may have had, but before they reached the authorities, Dick pressed his face into Batman’s neck. “Dami.”
“I’m here, Dick.”
“Th-that man, he said…”
Batman tightened his grip on his ward. “I know, but I’ve got you now and I promise, the Court won’t ever touch you again.”
Richard wrapped his arms around his neck and Damian quickly ran his fingers through the black-brown curls before Batman stepped out of the shadows and passed Richard off for a paramedic to check him over.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For Reference:
The Batcave: Under Wayne Manor in Bristol, acts as HQ for Batman, Catwoman, and Batgirl (and Batkid)
The Perch: Under Damian and Jon's house in Somerset, acts as HQ for Nightwing and Flamebird (and Robin)
The Hatch: Under the Lucius Fox Center in Burnley, acts as HQ for We Are Future (Signal, Señal, E-ko, Flyfox, and Allegro)
The Clocktower: At the top of Gotham Clock Tower in Old Gotham, acts as HQ for Oracle and Orphan
The Roost: Under Drake Towers in Blüdhaven, acts as HQ for Black Bat and Athens
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anjuschiffer · 4 years
Note
Hello there my lovly, I have a thing for you. Bio dad Jason
As much as I want to write a fic for this, I’m going to list what I have for this prompt!
tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life
Mon Lutin - Bio!Dad Jason Todd
Context: Jason is 26 (revived at the age of 20, in coma until he was 22), Dick 32, Tim 24 and Damian is 17. Bruce will forever be in his mid 30s to early 40s XD 
Jason was busy doing maintenance on his equipment late at night when he heard crying pierce the street below him
Grabbing a gun, he went out to the fire escape to investigate, only to see a four year old girl being surrounded by some thugs
He started to shoot as he descended, shouting at the little girl to crouch and cover her ears and close her eyes
He shot the group down, not caring if one was already dead
Jason kept telling the girl to close her eyes, lifting her up and taking her over to the sidewalk, inspecting her to see if she had anything on her (a tracker, bomb, etc.)
Clearing her, he took her into his apartment, asking her what the hell was she doing in the streets of Gotham at 2 in the morning
“Mama...mama left me there…” she managed to spill out, still wiping away her tears and snot
Jason cursed, wondering what they hell he was suppose to do with this child
When he mentioned taking her to the police, the girl panicked, begging him to not take her there
“Why not? They’ll make sure to-”
“I don’t want to go back!” the girl screamed, her hands shaking violently against her head. “They’ll cut me again! They’re going to cut me again and stick needles into my arm! Don’t take me there!”
Jason was now highly concerned over what was going on.
Sighing, Jason realized his options were now one: Richard
Of course, he doesn’t automatically call him right away
After a few days of research (and simply feeding and providing clean clothing to the girl), Jason learned a few things.
Her name was Marinette. She is an orphan, her “Mama” being her latest foster parent who simply left her in the streets because “she was too much to handle” and was going to get a sum for giving her up to some underground trade that “Mama” was a part of. 
(“Mama” had originally adopted Marinette for this purpose but no longer wanted to deal with the child so she wanted to give her up to the underground organization for good)
When Jason asked Marinette why they wanted her, Marinette’s eyes quickly dulled.
“They want something inside me. They want my magic.”
When Jason asked what the hell she was talking about, Marinette asked for a fruit, which he gave her. After scooping out some seeds from the orange, Marinette stared at the seeds until they glowed a crimson aura and the seed started to sprout but when they did, Marinette collapsed, Jason now knowing how serious this shit was
He calls Richard asap and tells him about his situation
Too bad that it turns out that Bruce is there and demands him to bring the girl to them
Jason flat out refuses for his help
“For the sake of that child.”
Jason takes Marinette over to Wayne Manor, picking up on the way that Tim stared at the girl wide-eyed, glancing between the girl and Jason
But Tim never spoke up, instead dashed somewhere, not to be seen until later on.
Alfred quickly helped Marinette adjust to the large manor
Damian simply greeted her before disappearing
Jason, Richard and Bruce discuss Marinette, only for Tim to come dashing in
“What do you want Replace-”
“Did you have sex roughly five years ago?”
“What kind of-”
“It’s a simple yes or no question you-”
“Yes!” Jason yelled, wondering what his one-night stand with a Parisian had to do with any of this shit
“Did you ever keep in touch-”
“No.”
“That would make sense.” Tim said, looking at everyone before handing Jason some papers. “She’s your daughter.”
Ensue Jason panicking and denying it
After accepting it (two days later), Jason realized that he now had to take care of a child..that’s his…
At first he wants to dump Marinette with Bruce, knowing he would gladly take her away from him
But it’s Alfred and Damian that convince him to actually care for her
“Are you going to walk out of her life, just like what your father did to you Todd? Are you really going to repeat the same shit your stupid father did to you?”
“While Master Damian’s words were harsh, they contained some truth. Are you sure you want Marinette to grow up without ever knowing her father?”
Jason finally decides to raise Marinette, away from Wayne Manor, only to regret it when the underground group manage to track her down
Ensure the rescue mission (with the Bats of course)
Jason learns that because he had magic from the Lazarus’ Pit and Marinette’s bio mother was also a magic user (miraculous maybe), Marinette ended up having magic at birth
Jason seethed when he saw the amount of information they had on Marinette, quickly burning the files along with destroying the tech in the underground HQ
He finds Marinette and his father instincts kick in to protect her 
“Don’t worry Pixie, I’m not going to let them keep hurting you.” Marinette at this point starts to mentally call him dad.
Upon finding the head, Jason gives Bruce Marinette as he runs after the guy
After killing the head of the underground group that experimented with children (and managed to extract some magic from two children), Jason realizes that if he wanted to keep Marinette safe, he would have to rely on his family.
He comes back to Wayne Manor to live with Marinette, relaxing when he sees her practicing to control her powers with Raven
“Dad! You’re back!”
“I’m back, mon lutin.”
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miss-choco-chips · 4 years
Text
Put a ring on it
I’m not sure what this is, everyone. Had it on my docs for a while, got bored during work and thought ‘what if I just post this?’, and here we are. Basically the Core Four being loving and caring (and spiteful).
Shout out to @animemangasoul who pumped me up about this and @the-quiet-carrotcake and @iphoenixrising for letting me cry to them the Titans loving Tim.
Can be read as either ship or friendship
------.------
When shit went down, Wally and Roy made sure they were nowhere near the planet. A nice little interplanetary fuckery called for anyone free, and both of them had magically clean schedules, so off they went, praying to every god they knew about (and, with how many holy disasters they had faced between them, there were a lot) to be back after the worst of the mess had blown over.
Even if it meant missing the undoubtedly hilarious face Batman would make when he found out. Not even the chance of witnessing that was worth staying and waiting with bated breath until someone pointed out that, in the end, it was both their faults.
-So let me get this straight.
-Difficult for me, but go on.
Wally rolled his eyes, chucking a pillow at his little dude, wondering how Nightwing could do this with not one, not two, but three badly adjusted little brothers (and that without counting the girls, though, to be honest, they already had Babs). Truly, a hero of the ages. Arsenal just cackled from his place in front of the coffee table, where he was keeping them company and cleaning his equipment.
-I’m serious. I’ve never seen you this mad without a bad guy to blame for it.
-Well…
-As furious as you are at them, Bart, they are still the good guys.
-Debatable.
Wally threw another pillow, and Bart, arms crossed and all but vibrating on the couch, didn’t even bother on dodging. Just moved his particles quick enough that the thing went straight through him. 
Arsenal raised an eyebrow at them- It’s scary when you do that. Like a freaking ghost.
-It’s scary that Tim’s whole family can be this level of neglectful, but you don’t see me bitching at them.
-Only because you know they’ll give you your ass back to you in a silver platter after they are done whooping it -interjected the older speedster, snack bag on his lap, a few more by the ground at his feet, sitting as close to Bart as the whole ‘don’t touch, I bite’ aura he had around him would allow.
-Kinky.
This time, Wally’s pillow was aimed at the archer. Roy just dodged without looking, still cross legged on the other side of the little table facing the couch.
-Real talk now, it’s not like they are jerks on purpose. We all know the Bats are on a whole new level of ‘always busy’, it’s to be expected they wouldn’t have time for social niceties.
Wally winced, scooting a little further away from Bart when he looked up to glare at Roy. That wasn’t a nice look. That was a ‘I can take you to someplace no one would hear you scream in less than ten seconds’ look.
-My seventeen year old best friend managed to finish high school after having to take a year off to go look for his missing mentor, going through several different mourning processes and dodging a frankly creepy cradle robber of a ninja terrorist, all while kicking ass and taking names, taking care of a huge as hell company, and keeping up the intel guy work for the rest of his shitty family. And he still graduated early. The least they could do after the fuckery he was put through by their collective stupidity would be go as moral support, but no. No, other things are more important than such a big milestone on his life. Fuckers.
Wound down after the rant, Bart dropped back on the couch, shrinking in place, oozing contempt from every pore.
Roy raised his eyes to share a look with Wally. Even if the bro code meant they were contractually obligated to defend their respective best friends, there was undeniable truth to Bart’s statement. Jason had gone on killing sprees for far less than Tim’s situation, and God knows Dick would have showed a big  middle finger at his mentor and go off world with the Titans as a protest at the slightest fight. All in all, Red Robin was taking it like a champ.
-Jason’s busy with the Torinelli drug cartel thingie -tried Roy nonetheless, loyal as one could be. 
Wally nodded- And Dick had already promised Damian to go on a camping-training trip that weekend...
-Great. So criminals that aren’t going anywhere and the ‘favorite’ demon child are more important than my best friend’s graduation, which isn’t even a long thing, just a couple hours and a few photos. Awesome. Do you happen to know Batman’s excuse? I mean, I’m sure is equally as shitty as his sons’ excuses, but, you know. Variety and stuff.
Wally sighed, because yeah, point. Were it Bart’s graduation, nothing short of the end of the world would have kept him from going, but, again, he only had one little dude to worry about. Dick’s house was full.
-You’ll be there -tried Roy, dropping his arrow back on the table and resting his crossed arms next to it, leaning forward to look straight at Bart-, you and the rest of the brats, right? Supes and Diana’s babies. You guys may not be related like that, but that’s not necessary for you to be family.
Like the Teen Titans were, went unsaid- the older heroes exchanged a glance, reminiscent of their days fighting side by side under Dick’s unwavering leadership. No matter where they were now, that’s where they both came from.
-Yeah -accepted Bart, but the frown hadn’t left his face-. It’s just. His parents are dead, his ‘foster’ bat-family are dicks. He has us, yeah, but… I wished he could have his family there, you know. Like, if I could adopt him, I would, just so he can have that.
Wally dropped the empty snack bag onto the ground and took a new one, tipping it in Bart’s direction as a peace offering- I mean, it’s still a month away, maybe one of them would clear his schedule and go? Probably not all of them, but anything’s better than nothing, right?
Bart harrumphed, hunching even lower in the couch, pout still present.
-If anything else fails -joked Roy, going back to cleaning his stuff-, I hear Kara’s single right now, and Tim’s an emancipated minor. Get them to marry each other, and then your Super friend is technically his brother- or something like that. Political families still counts.
Bart went still for a second, and if Wally were less invested in his snack and more on the thoughtful expression on his face, he might have known ahead of time that his next words were a bad, bad idea.
-And if she’s not on board, you could always ask someone else on your team. Team as family and all that shit, Tim would literally be marrying into the fam. Want some chips?
But Bart was already gone.
-Huh? -blinked Roy- Where'd he run to?
-...
-...You don't think he…
-What? No. No, of course not, they aren't so dumb...
For a horrible second, Roy and Wally crossed eyes again, both remembering the stupid shit they got up to when they were seventeen, and replayed the conversation. Their jokes, that anyone with half a brain would take as that, as silliness. Then came the thought that being stupid was almost a requirement for being a Titan. 
With the kind of synchronicity one could only have after fighting side by side for years, they both jumped to their feet at the same time.
-I’ll hit Kori up, maybe she has some alien fuckery to deal with and we can tag along.
-Imma call Supes and let him know we’ll be off planet for a while. Shit, Dick’s gonna flip. He was the big B for a while, he knows stuff. Painful stuff.
-Dude, he at least doesn’t kill. Jay has guns, and it’s his favorite brother we’re talking about.
A shiver went through them when Batman’s reaction came to mind.
-If Kori’s not dealing with something, I’ll ask her to start shit up somewhere far, far away to give us an excuse to leave either way. She’s a goddess like that, she’ll help.
-Good thinking. I’ll start packing.
---.----
The secret meeting was held at one of Tim’s safe houses, because it had enough lead on the walls there was no risk of Superman overhearing them. Not that the owner of the place was aware of it; no one was, besides Cassie, Kon and Bart themselves. Keeping it hush hush was vital for the success of the mission.
-All on board then?
Kon’s smile could light up a town- Hell yeah dude. I’ll take care of getting Tim time off from work. Tam knows me and I’m fairly sure she doesn’t hate me as strongly as she does the bats. Fair warning though, she might ask to come with.
-She’s cool, so I’m in. We’re gonna need a witness anyway.
Cassie nodded, fierce smirk and challenge in her eyes- This is gonna piss so many people. Hey, do you think if we let Oracle in the know she’ll give us footage of the bats' faces when they find out?
Bart bit his lip- As crash as that would be, I don’t think it’s worth the risk.
Cassie deflated, but then shrugged it off- We’ll ask Tim, then. He’s as good as her with hacking, I’m sure he’ll figure something out.
-If he doesn’t kill us first, you mean.
-Don’t be a coward, Kon. I thought you were in.
-I’m not saying I’m backing down, just that we should put our business in order in case he snaps and murders us in cold blood. I know he has it in him, if pushed the right ways.
She nodded, because point. The almost feral look on her face wasn’t gone, though- Worth it. I'll be in charge of clothes. You reckon there's any chance I can get a dress on him?
-Sure, if you want him to actually break his no kill rule. 
-Fine, but he's wearing white anyway. It goes well with his skin tone.
Bart extended his first for her to bump- Now you're talking. I'll be the extraction man and take him to the place.
Kon crossed his arms, looking conflicted for the first time- We can't go the classic way about it, because a fake name would mean he won't take seriously what we're trying to do, and if we use his real one in a formal document, it'll hit the news before the ink has a chance to dry. And then he'll kill us for sure.
-You're awfully worried about him drawing blood, Blue. What gives?
-He's scared shitless of Cassie and you're too adorable to hurt, but me? I'm the one he's gonna focus his rage on, and you know how he gets when at his limit.
Cassie snorts- He can't live without you, you dork. I think we are all safe. And anyways, the plan is to make him too drunk to walk on a straight line, he wouldn't be able to hurt us.
-You say that -interjected Bart, getting up from where he was crouching above their carefully spread, color coded sheets of plans; Tim would be so proud- but I've seen the dude drop kick someone with a broken leg once. He can fuck shit up no matter the situation.
-True… still, we are doing it, right?
-Oh yeah, for sure, I just wanted everyone aware that it might be our last big bang.
-Then we better make sure it's one hell of an explosion, am I right?
-Hell yeah.
-This is gonna be so crash!
----.----
The entire thing had gone something like this.
On friday, Tam made Tim turn around and head back home the second he showed his face at the office, claiming the bags under his eyes clashed terribly with her new Prada handbag and she’d rather had it than him around. In Foxspeak, it meant ‘go the fuck to sleep or so help me God’. Tim would have fought back just on principle, but Tam had him at a standstill, because the spleen thing could very easily reach Alfred’s ears if he crosses her, and no one (him) wants that. As if to make sure he would obey, she demanded they share the car that would take her to the airport (did she have some meeting out of Gotham? He couldn’t remember) and dropped him at his Perch on her way there.
He wasn’t actually planning on sleep, maybe work some of his cases from home, start patrol early, possibly tracking Jason down to offer his help for the drug cartel thing. Confused by the unexpected way his morning had gone so far, he was woefully underprepared for a flash of red and yellow to whisk him from his living room the second he put his carrier bag on the ground. 
It was only years from using his team as glorified uber drives what kept him from nerve striking Bart on reflex. Knowing whatever he asked would be lost to the background sound of super fast travelling, he merely slumped over the thin shoulder he was thrown over and waited till they reached their destination.
Which… he wasn’t expecting Vegas.
The next few hours were a blur of his team explaining they had planned this gateaway as an early graduation party,  hugs and a few grateful tears on his part, and booze. So much booze. He was trained by Batman, he had a bigger than average resistance to… well, everything, and still, he got so, so wasted. 
Saturday’s hungover was cured with more booze. They hit casino after casino, danced over tables, payed a bar owner to close for the night and let them work their way through his entire supply, went to some neon party at someone’s exceedingly large hotel suite (the guy wasn’t getting his deposit back), his cellphone was thrown on a fountain after Cassie got sick of it going off again and again with Dick’s predetermined ringtone, drank some more, were kicked out of yet another casino... 
At some point Tam appeared (a very drunk Tim had hugged her and spun her around so fast her stilettos went flying and almost blinded someone), and they all went back to the hotel, where  Kon basically manhandled him into a white suit. More booze when Tim started asking questions, followed by a  two hour long stay at some park were Cassie, Bart and Kon took turns holding his hand, and then each others’, with Tam saying something about bonds, and family, and sickness, and health in the background, Kon muttering something in kryptonian and making Tim repeat it, Cassie dropping to one knee and sprouting some Amazonian speech, Bart jumping on his back after his own speech (futuristic laws and all) was done, then more booze, partying and….
Well, everything was a blur, before and after that.
They woke up saturday morning with the worst headache, in a undignified puppy pile back at their suit, minus Tam who apparently had her own room. Kon’s TTK took care of the blinds and Tim blinked awake at the sound (Robin instincts), looked at his sleeping friends and then went back to sleep, head pillowed by Bart’s butt, with Cassie’s knee denting his ribs and Kon’s arm thrown over his neck, completely disregarding the three rings hanging from his shiny new necklace.
That was a problem for sober Tim to solve. 
---.----
Monday morning, Tim went back to the office, Tam by his side, acting like everything was perfectly fine. 
Dick called after lunch asking about his whereabouts that past weekend, claiming he was missed during patrol, but backed down when informed he was actually relaxing with his friends. Bruce didn’t ask, probably had tracked him down the second he couldn’t find him and let him be after realizing he was at Las Vegas.
Everyone that saw them walking down WE’s hallways would have swore a trail of classic music followed them, graceful and elegant.
In Tim’s mind, however, the background sound was the kill bill sirens and blaring red lights.
Tam felt like a queen, coming back after conquering treacherous lands.
Tim felt like Jason may have been onto something when he died.
----.----
When the Big Day (capital letters included) arrived, and Tim got into the stage to accept his diploma (Honor Student, of course), his eyes automatically went to the loud, rowdy teenagers, sitting as close to the front as possible, cheering and smiling.
He was far enough that it could’ve been a trick of the light, but he thought he could see all three of them going misty-eyed. His own eyes watered when he shook the headmaster's hand and posed with his diploma for the cameras (Wayne Heir Graduating would be trending on every magazine by dinnertime), his friends never stopping yelling his name.
When the time came to throw the little hats, he catched by the corner of his eye how Bart held both Cassie’s and Kon’s hands, keeping them from flying in their emotion. If one paid close attention, their feet actually were floating juuust above the ground. They were just so genuinely excited for him, it was… it was amazing.
After as little smalltalk as possible with his classmates, he sneaked away into some hidden spot, away from prying cameras, and waited. Sure enough, his best friends were there barely ten seconds later, and using that same speed, they swept him off his feet. Bart was the first, latching to his front, Kon a close second jumping on his back and hugging his head. Cassie, ever the showoff, threw her hands around the three of them and spun them around as if they weighted nothing to her. That was probably the case.
-You did it, you did it, you did it!!!! Oh my god, this is so crash!!!
-Not that we had any doubt, with that big brain of yours. Making a girl so proud.
-Speak for yourself. Personally, I feared the worst. This is Gotham, after all.
-But nothing happened! And you GRADUATED!
Tim let out a laugh, allowing himself to just feel joy. Letting them see him like that, as payment for being the most awesome friends (family) in existence, he returned the hug, squeezing back as strongly as his non meta arms could.
Then, a voice behind them that he absolutely didn't expect- Congratulations, Master Timothy.
Without letting any of them go, Cassie turned around, so they could all see Alfred Pennyworth, in his Sunday’s best, looking proud and warm, his eyes glazed over with nostalgia when they landed on his young charge. One of the young men he had the honor to watch grow into the amazing person he was today.
Even more surprising, he held a tablet on his arms, screen facing them, with a familiar figure there, white streak and leather but no firearms, probably cautious of possible civilians around.
-Hey, baby bird. Sorry ‘couldn’t be ther’ p’rsonally. Hope ya don’t mind me an’ Alfie crashing like this.
-A-Alfred? Jason? What… I thought you were in Russia!!
The man on the screen scratched the back of his head, visibly uncomfortable but determined.
-Am, actually. But it’s yer big day, babybird. Wouldn’t missit for the world.
Tim’s already watery eyes just overflowed.
-----.----
It took a month for shit to hit the fan. Tim was honestly impressed, because things rarely went his way, and getting more than a few hours to mentally prepare for Disaster? Unheard of. What a shocker.
When it did went down, it was in large part because he was milking the ‘no metas in Gotham’ rule that kept his team at bay and allowed him to go days without sleeping. Kon would say it was karmatic retribution for ignoring their orders to relax and take it easy. He would protest, but really, how to deny the truth; if not for his sleep deprivation, his secret would have gone a lot longer without being unveiled.
 Between hacking into Lexcorp, running the dna samples he took during patrol half an hour ago on the database and finishing his report of the night, he was out of fucks to give. Damian bitching on his ear was the last drop.
-...And your mere presence here is an insult to Grayson's legacy. He founded it, Todd died for it, what did you even contribute to it?
A slow blink. Tim was aware his brain to mouth filter was as good as gone, but tired as he was, he just didn't care.
-Besides providing the brains on this whole fucking operation? Pants, I guess. Common sense. Ninja skills commended by your own grandfather, the king of ninjas. Virtue, too, since Dick is a verified hoe and Jason slept with your/
-C'mon Timmy -cut in Dick, Nightwing suit halfway down his chest, when Damian's face was turning an alarming shade of blue- aren't you a little old to be fighting a kid?
-Who are you calling kid?!
Typical, big bro to the rescue. Tim was too tired to be disappointed that once again Dick was siding with an eleven year old bully that kept harassing Tim. Never mind that he had been minding his business before Damian came to bark at him.
-Boys -chided Bruce and, huh, Tim had said that out loud. Whatever, not like it wasn't true. Fuck them.
-Fuck you -he told… Bruce? Dick? Definitely Damian, too- all.
-Tim! -gasped Dick. Still half naked. Standing right by Damian's side. 
That kid was going to have a very uncomfortable sexual awakening any day now.
-SHUT UP, DRAKE! YOU ARE DISGUSTING!
Wow he really needed to stop talking out loud.
-Tim -And now Bruce was walking towards them, frown firmly in place- you are obviously too tired, if you can't control what comes out of your mouth. Go to sleep.
Tim hissed at him. Dick looked too shocked to answer but Bruce, somewhat used to that reaction of the sleep deprived teen, loomed even more.
-I'm an emancipated adult. I control your company. I live on my own. You're not the boss of me. 
Now even Damian was looking at him open mouthed. Whatever. The computer pinged with his results, just as his phone did with his  'The hubbies and waifus' group chat.
-What's gotten into you, kiddo? -now Dick was worried, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Still half naked, that was an important detail.
Tim shrugged him away.
-Fucking demon spawn coming from nowhere to fuck with me just for the hell of it puts me in a bad mood, I'm weird like that -he deadpaned, replying to the group chat one handed- And the rest of this fucked up team siding with him just because he's a bad word away from a violent psychotic break doesn't help. Fuck off and let me do my shit, and I'll be out of your hair before you know it.
And then, with a sneer, ignoring both Bruce's and Dick's flabbergasted expressions, Damian said what would be Tim's down fall.
-Go to hell, Drake.
A ping made Tim look down at his phone and he replied without thinking, one hand tapping away at the screen- Wait, let me ask my wife.
A beat of silence. One sneer, one grunt, one surprised gasp.
Bruce made a half step towards him- Tim, what/?
A ping.
-She says no. Hang on, let me get you a second opinion, just to be safe.
-Timmy, what do you mean/?
Another one.
-Husband number one says no, too. Husband number two hasn't replied, probably asleep or traveling somewhere, but two already win by majority. It seems it's a ‘no’ on going to hell for me. Bummer, it would have been funny seeing your homeland, brat.
-...
-...
-...
-Aaaaand that’s my cue to interrupt -announced a new voice above them all. Kon, phone at hand, looked down with half amused, half guarded expression-. Someone hasn’t held their end of the deal and slept eight hours, huh, bud?
Tim, ignoring his family that hadn’t yet recovered from the bomb, shrugged- I slept eight hours. This past week. You never said they had to be consecutive hours.
The super just sighed and landed long enough to haul a too tired to resist bird in his arms- I can see you aren’t getting any sleep in Gotham. Let’s go back to the Tower, Cassie wants us to see The Princess Bride with her again.
-Don’t lie to me, you liar.
-Bart wan/
-Look at my face and tell me the truth.
-Okay, I want to see The Princess Bride again -he conceded, taking flight towards the closest exit, sleepy bird cocooned in his arms and TTK- Later, bats!
-...
-...
Finally, Dick snapped back to reality, although the background noise in his head was one would expect in suspense movies right before the assassin jumped a unsuspecting protagonist- ...did he say ‘husbands’? As in, married?
-...
-AS IN MORE THAN ONE?
----.----
172 notes · View notes
zombiesbecrazy · 5 years
Text
unusual and uncommon allies
Summary:  Something crashed on Damian’s end of the line, and based on the grunt he heard, Damian had stumbled into something. "Grayson," he gasped out and Tim instantly was paying closer attention. "He's been compromised. He…" The line shot out again and Tim could hear a scream in the background. A familiar one. One that he had heard in the times that Dick had lost his temper and exploded in rage. "He keeps attacking me. I don't know how long I can fend him off. He’s feral."
AO3
It wasn't the first time that the three of them had found themselves in some sort of confrontational standoff. That wasn't new in the slightest - one calm and rational voice trying to calm the other two down from threatening to attack, maim, kill each other. It was embarrassing, really. He was definitely old enough not to get pulled into the situation, and he had to admit that it was getting better, but something about each other just rubbed the other the wrong way and most things just ended in a fight - verbal at best, physically aggressive at worse.
Now they did their best just to avoid each other unless necessary. That was working out just fine.
Until tonight when everything just got turned upside down.
This was the first time that Tim had found himself trying to block Dick from attacking Damian instead of Dick being the one between the younger two.
It had been a standard patrol night up until now with Tim in the south end of the city, looking into a few leads about a drug ring that had begun to pop up when he got interrupted by a breathless voice in his ear. "Drake." Tim could hear footsteps in the background, feet running hard, and the fire of a grappling gun into the air, the familiar sound of the line uncoiling at top speed. "Drake, I need assistance immediately." The coil was retracting again, signaling that it had been a short gap, and he was running again.
"And you’re calling me?" Tim couldn’t remember the last time that Damian had called him, and it was even rarer that it would be in an emergency scenario; Tim would be at the bottom of Damian’s list just as Damian would be at the bottom of his, unless the situation required a snarky short kid with a sword. "Well, that's an interesting change of pace."
Something crashed on Damian’s end of the line, and based on the grunt he heard, Damian had stumbled into something. "Grayson," he gasped out and Tim instantly was paying closer attention. "He's been compromised. He…" The line shot out again and Tim could hear a scream in the background. A familiar one. One that he had heard in the times that Dick had lost his temper and exploded in rage.  "He keeps attacking me. I don't know how long I can fend him off. He’s feral."
“Where are you?” Tim jumped off the landing he was on and rushed to where he had parked his bike on the street, kicking it into gear and tearing off at top speed out of the shipyard lot, weaving between maze of crates.
"I'm headed to the old fairgrounds to lure him away from bystanders."
“I’m close. I’ll be there in five.” Tim hung a right and pushed the bike to it’s limits. “Be ready for maneuver B13.”
Tim’s mind was racing as he raced down the street because he wanted to know what was happening to Dick and why. There was a passing thought that maybe Dick was running a training scenario on Damian, but if there was a chance that it would escalate to something that Damian would feel out of his league and call Tim for assistance, Dick would have gave him the heads up. The more likely option was that he was hit with some sort of hallucinogenic and was confused about who Damian was, but the chase factor was throwing that idea off a bit; most of the time when something like that happened, the victim tended to be distracted easily and wouldn’t follow a particular subject for very long before moving on to something else.
Tim pulled under the entrance arch and shifted forward on his bike. He didn’t know where exactly Damian was, but all he had to do was drive around the structures for Damian to follow B13 and drop onto the bike behind hi…
“That was six minutes Drake,” said Damian the second that he landed on the bike seat, wrapping his arms tight around Tim’s waist. Damain’s tone was normal, sharp with a side of condescension but Tim could feel him breathing hard against his back, muscles shaking with adrenaline and exertion. Tim hazarded a glaze in his review mirror and thought he caught a glimpse of Nightwing’s shadow on a rooftop, not far from where Damian at dropped down from, but they were able to outpace him on the bike. The kid must be exhausted because Dick was fast and almost impossible to outrace on foot.
Pulling into an alleyway, Tim cut the engine and turned to look at Damian. His uniform was torn and he had a cut across his cheek. "What happened?" They needed a plan and in order to do that, Tim needed a better idea to what was going on.
Damian’s mouth twitched, before he shrugged and gestured helplessly. His eyes were shifting quickly from rooftop to rooftop, anxiously trying to track where Dick would come from next, but Tim knew that there was at least a couple of minutes of distance between them. They’d have to move again soon, but they were momentarily safe. "We were patrolling and he got shot with a dart in the neck from an unknown assailant and then he attacked me. Quite possibly a neurological agent."
"Is he just going after you or is he attacking anyone who gets close?"
"I believe it's just me,” sighed Damian and he fiddled with his gloves, as he did when he was nervous and pretended that no one knew that's why he did it. "It’s my birthday next week and I suspect it is a test from Mother. To see if I'm good enough to defeat my mentor yet."
“That is a terrible present.” Damian said nothing, which Tim took as a non verbal agreement. He flipped through their options. “If Dick is after you, let's give him what he wants and then flip the switch." He started up the bike again, surely to attract Dick’s attention to where they were, and headed to the dead end area that the carnival games used to run; where the lights used to be bright and the noise was loud, but now it was just as dark and gloomy as you would expect an abandoned amusement park to be. "Damian, you've just been upgraded to bait."
"I despise being bait."
"And yet you are."
Just as Bruce has contingencies against the League, Tim had them for his own allies. Young Justice. Teen Titans.
And his family.
The secret to fighting Nightwing was to watch his feet and to remember that he tended to go high. Stay low. Stay on the balls of your feet. Get ready to dive. Aim for where he's going, not where he is. But the problem was that Dick knew all of that too which meant they had to do what he wouldn't expect them to do.
Damian and Tim climbed off the bike, eyes to the rooftops, watching until Tim caught sight of the black and blue shadow. He extended his staff and shifted slightly forward into a ready position.
"He’s here,” whispered Tim, keeping as still as possible, eyes studying the spot he had saw Dick lurking from. “Nightwing. You don’t want to do this," he called out, hoping that it was something simple to break the control. It had happened once, something that Ivy had concocted had been cancelled out if someone had the decency to ask them to stop. It wasn't the craziest thing that had happened.
Dick gave no indication that he heard Tim, only got closer to the edge of the building, eyes following Damian’s every molecule with hyper focused interested. Politeness was apparently not the solution to this problem.
He had an idea. Damian was going to hate it.
“Robin, run away." Tim gritted out, hoping that the use of his codename was trigger something in Damian to follow the order, even if it was coming from Tim and not Dick or Bruce.
"What?" hissed Damian.
"Run. He wouldn't expect you to run and hide, not when you can stand and fight, either to stop him or protect him. You'd never do that, especially with me here. Run. Find somewhere to hide up high. He'd expect you to go low to avoid him, so go high. I’ll distract him. Call B.” Damian hesitated, and Tim was just waiting for him to argue with him, refusing to take the orders, when Dick dropped down until the alley, and started stalking towards them, twirling his sparking escrima sticks, electricity already flowing through them.
Dick lunged around Tim, seemingly not even noticing that he was there, grabbing for Damian’s cape, and Damian finally took off, shooting his grapple up onto the roof. At the same second, Tim tackled Dick around the waist, momentum throwing them to the ground, hopefully giving Damian an opportunity to escape, or at least a head start if Tim didn’t manage to subdue him.
Dick scrambled to his feet again and tried to start to chase Damian again. Tim had no idea what he was going to do. He had never had to go all out against Dick, had never really considered what would happen if they had to face head to head, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t have theories. He tried to sweep his leg, try to knock Dick off his feet, when he realized that Dick really didn’t care in the slightest that Tim was fighting him. He was allowing himself to be hit, completely ignoring Tim’s actions; all he did was try to keep following Damian. Whatever they had hit him with was absolutely objective based. He needed to attack Damian and nothing else mattered to him. That was both good and bad; it made him sloppy and but it also made him even more unpredictable and it was hard to distract him from his target.
Tim kept jumping in front of him, blocking his path in the direction that Damian had taken off in, matching him blow for blow as Dick fought to get past, treating Tim as an inanimate object, the same way that he would a wall, trying to climb over, run up, smash through without any sort of focused reasoning. Tim managed to knock one of the sticks free from Dick’s grasp, clattering to the pavement below, and Dick didn’t really notice that it wasn’t in his hand anymore, still swinging as if it was.
It was sort of like fighting a drunk person. A drunk person with a deadly set of skills who was black out drunk.
Dick spun around, trying to find a way around Tim another way, trying to find a better way to follow Damian, when Tim saw it; a red glow flashing in Dick’s neck, under the skin. It wasn’t a poison. It was a transmitter. He was being hijacked. Maybe they didn’t need to fight. Maybe all they needed to do was cut off the signal of whatever was under his skin.
It gave him an idea.
It was a risk, but it was the only thing that Tim could think of. He turned his back on Dick and dove at the fallen stick to grab it. Dick took the chance to run, and was already climbing up the building, but Tim was ready for that. He pulled out his grapple gun and shot at Dick’s ankle, cord flying at top speed and wrapping around the leg. Dick yelped at the contact and Tim retracted hard, pulling Dick off the building at high velocity. He hit the ground flat on his back with a loud smack that sounded like it hurt, and Tim pounced on the struggling Nightwing.
“Sorry, Dick,” Tim mumbled, and jabbed Dick in the neck with the electrified end of the stick, Dick’s body flinching hard but the red light on his neck blinked and went out.
Tim was breathing hard, watching Dick’s chest rise and fall as he waited to see what would happen next. He couldn’t believe that he had done that. He had electrocuted Dick. He could have killed him. He could have...
“T-tim?” rasped Dick. “You’re ok-kay? D’mian? Did I h’rt ‘im?”
“You remember?” Tim rushed to check him over. His pulse was fast and thready, eyes dilated and confused, but he seemed to be himself again which was better than nothing.
“Yeah.” Dick coughed. “C-couldn’t do anything. Thank you. St-topped me.” Tim held his hand tight, but Dick suddenly yelped in pain, eyes wide and brought his hand up to his neck, where the tracker had been. Where the same tracker was starting to blink again. Tim had stopped it with the shock, but it was starting up again, apparently only shorted out momentarily, but the signal was back. Dick couldn’t take another shock, not so soon without risking permanent damage. Tim was struggling to think of a next move when Dick tightened his grip and stared at him hard, clearly struggling to hold on to control, to fight the tracker’s control over his mind.
"Tim." He squeezed his eyes tight and sucked in a sharp breath. "I can't fight it. It's…" Dick groaned in pain, clutching his head, pulling at his hair. Trying to distract himself anyway that he could to stop him from hunting Damian again. "Knock me out,” he spit out, and Tim tried to not react when he saw blood start to leak out of his ear and from his eyes under the mask. Whatever the effort of fighting the control of the tracker was doing to him wasn’t good. It was going to kill him if he kept fighting it. "Tie me up. N...now."
Tim didn’t need to be told twice. He hit Dick in the temple with the end of his bo staff, right in the perfect spot, the one he knew would incapacitate someone if hit just right, and Dick went out like a light, just as the light in his neck changed to a solid red. He quickly pulled out all of his restraints and tied Dick to a lamp post.
He did it. He sort of hated that he did, but he did it.
“Timothy?” Damian dropped down beside him, landing quietly on his feet. He couldn’t have gone too far, and Tim couldn’t be sure if he had actually gone to hide at all, but it didn’t matter now. He looked at Dick, at the tracker in his neck, shoulders tight and rigid, trying to cover his fear and worry with a faux confidence that didn’t fool Tim for a second. “Is he alright?”
“No, but he will be.” Tim sat on the ground across from where he had tied Dick up, and motioned for Damian to join him. He expected a fight, but to his surprise, Damian sat down, leaning against his shoulder, eyes trained on Dick, knowing that if he woke up, he’d have to be ready regardless of the restraints.. “Let’s wait for B.”
They both waited in silence, leaning against each other for support, neither of them mentioning the tears streaking down the others cheeks as they kept watch on their big brother.
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Part two: Damian continues his reconciliations!
find part one on ao3 and on tumblr
Damian awoke with a start, heart beating fast before his brain could catch up. It took him a moment to realize what was wrong:
He was not in his bed.
He could tell immediately because it was warm and comfortable, soft light filtering through shades. Basically, nothing like Nanda Parbat. He tried to calm himself to take in his bearings and his lungs filled with scents that lulled his mind.
Smells of herbal tea and chocolate, earthy like a farmhouse kitchen-
Jon.
The Kryptonian must have caught the cue in his sleep as he turned next to him to bury his face in Damian’s chest to get away from the fast increasing sunlight. The warmth of Jon curled in to him addled his mind further and Damian struggled to remember how he got here.
 They had ambled through the night rain, avoiding having to break apart until Jon finally offered a reprieve.
“Do you want to come upstairs?”
Damian forgot how to breathe. He hadn’t even realized they had made their way to Jon’s apartment.
Jon saw his friend’s panic and hastily explained.
“I only mean- it’s late to go over to Grayson’s. I figured, well, do you need a place to stay?”
The Demon found his breath again (though maybe a part of him was also a little disappointed).
“Oh, I don’t want to put you out. I’m sure the League has an outpost somewhere here or at least in Gotham…”
“Don’t be stupid. You’re already here. I have an extra blanket.”
So Damian had followed upstairs, pulled off wet clothes and borrowed too long pants from Jon.
“Not gonna suffer the matching shirt?” Jon joked as he tucked it back in a drawer. “Figured you’d want it since you get so cold.”
Damian blushed lightly at the remembered detail and muttered something about feeling straight-jacketed. Jon just smiled and said, “Good thing I got the extra blanket then.” Slipping under the covers, Jon’s body heat pulled Damian in and soon Jon was enveloped in strong limbs and musky scent, with warm breath on the back of his neck. It sent a little shiver down his spine.
It wasn’t long before they were asleep.
 Jon’s blinking eyes broke him out of his reverie. Even off the farm, he didn’t sleep in late.
“G’morning,” he mumbled sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
“Hey,” was all Damian could get out because, damn, bedhead Jon was a sight.
He must’ve been blushing again because Jon chuckled and leaned in to brush his lips ever so lightly against Damian’s before rolling out of bed.
The Demon’s Head groaned at the loss of warmth.
“Oh, c’mon, sleepy head.”
When Damian only moaned again, Jon crawled back onto the covers to kiss him again.
This time was longer, deeper, and far more intriguing, pulling Damian fully out of sleep. Warmth filled his cheeks and began to pool in his stomach. His hands reached out from the sheets to lock onto his Kryptonian.
Which was Jon’s cue that he finally had his demon’s full attention. Groan number three pulled out of Damian’s lips as Jon did, but his eyes were less bleary now. Jon smirked in triumph, but then his expression changed. He looked meaningfully into Damian’s eyes.
“You can’t put it off.”
How did he know? Only one day and Jon was already able to read his thoughts again.
Damian sighed and looked down.
“I’m scared.” Jon was still thrown off by his raw, open honesty.
“I know. We’ll start easy. But they love you and miss you. And they deserve an explanation.” He cupped Damian’s chin in his hand. “Take it from me, ten years is long enough to wait.”
 Bludhaven, despite being Gotham’s sister city, was fairly different from Damian’s childhood home. For one thing, sunlight actually got through the skyline to light up the sidewalks. For another, crime didn’t follow Gotham’s rule of waiting for nightfall. Maybe criminals here are vitamin D deficient.
Jon and Damian crossed the city, picking up coffee on the way over to Grayson’s apartment. They were taking their time because, as Damian said, “It’s Saturday. We’ll be lucky if he’s awake by noon.” And, as Damian didn’t say, “I’m panicking and need some extra time to get ahold of myself.”
What they didn’t know was that the first Robin was not only awake, but on the roof of a building in the next block. A major crime family had planned a hit on the Bludhaven Bank for that very day and, though Dick had warned the bank of the intel he found, he was still anxious and characteristically cautious. However, of all things he expected to see that day, Damian Wayne was decidedly not one of them.
His breath caught in his throat. He’s walking in Bludhaven. He’s here. He’s with Kent. He’s with Jon. Has he been here before, has he kept in touch with Jon this whole time and didn’t-
Dick cut off his own train of thought. No, just because no one expected him to leave doesn’t mean they didn’t know Damian and that he doesn’t care about them.
He knows Damian and Damian wouldn’t do that.
Besides, you can’t fake the pain that Jon had gone through alongside them the past 10 years. No, Damian must have just come back. And for whatever reason had gone to Jon first.
He watched intently as the men strolled down the sidewalk across the street, coming closer to his vantage point. He could almost see their hands, which were definitely interlocked, given how close together they were walking. A smirk spread across his lips.
But it was wiped away quickly, replaced with a gape of confusion as Damian and Jon ducked swiftly and unexpectedly into an alley.
Dick looked around for a reason and only then remembered why he was on the roof to begin with.
The bank was being robbed.
 Superman and the Demon alighted on the roof across from the bank.
“Damn. What are the chances?”
“Watch your language, farm boy,” Damian teased. Unlike his Kryptonian, he wasn’t all that surprised. He’d grown, impossibly, even more cynical in his time among the Shadows. He saw it as realism – the chances were, in fact, fairly high.
“Come on, let’s get in there before these idiots hurt someone.”
Jon grabbed hold of Damian and flew them across the gap to the bank, dropping the Demon on the roof before crashing through a window. As Kent caught the attention of the criminals, Wayne snuck in the back to take care of the men already making their way to the safe.
Having kept track of all of the Batman Inc. enemies, Damian quickly identified the thugs as members of the prominent Bludhaven crime family. He had particular beef with the fucked up dynamics that led to dragging your loved ones into violent crime in the name of petty power. Landing quietly behind them, he took note of their likely stats and available weapons.
“Guys, I mean, I’ve got daddy issues, too, but there are easier ways to get some attention.”
The thugs reacted quickly, one turning and throwing a punch as the other ducked and picked up his firearm. The Demon was in mid-spin, countering the punch and winding up to knock his first opponent off his feet when the first shot rang out.
But speed, adrenaline, and close quarters were Damian’s allies. He wasn’t sure where the bullet landed, but it was inconsequential. He should try to prevent another one from getting out, though.
He twisted to face the armed Thug 2, grabbing his arm, bending the wrist, catching the released gun, and unloading the weapon in one swift move.
Shit. He thought before he was really sure what his brain was reacting to. In slow motion he realized he had miscalculated Thug 1’s speed. Damian had tracked him as he picked up his own gun, but didn’t think he’d have it set that quickly.
As the gun rose to his turning face, a black blur flashed in the background, knocking a heavy blow to Thug 1’s neck. With the threat falling to the ground, Damian was safe to take down Thug 2 and did so with ease.
“I don’t think they liked your joke.” Nightwing, following a more Wayne-like pattern than Kent, had come into the bank through the back, but had taken a few extra seconds to get from his vantage point. Now he stood over the thugs and gave Damian a quick evaluating once over.
Damian couldn’t move. The back of his mind had processed that this was a possibility, but he hadn’t given himself much of a chance to prepare, given it was a big bank in Grayson territory.
“Don’t sweat though. I thought it was funny.”
Dick flashed a quick smile, blinding as ever, and led the way to the main hall where Jon was takin on the rest of the would-be thieves. They sprang into action, each taking down a gunman in a matter of mere seconds.
The Superman had managed to wedge himself between the robbers and the hostages, but was having trouble disarming the thugs while also keeping everyone free of bullet holes. Nightwing and Demon came to his aid, working in unison, reading each other’s movements and remembering each other’s patterns from their days as Batman and Robin.
Before long, the hall was clear and Nightwing signaled to the police just arriving that the situation was handled. The three men took their exit through the hole Jon had made in the ceiling and regrouped atop a nearby building.
Damian straightened, received a reassuring glance from Jon and took a deep breath before making eye contact with Dick. He scrambled for words, despite the many speeches he’d prepared the in sleepless night before. The robbery, meeting like this, completely threw him off.
But none of it mattered because Grayson spoke first.
“You’re back.”
“I never really wanted to leave.”
“I didn’t think so.”
Dick stepped forward and pulled his baby brother into a tight hug. Damian didn’t hesitate to return the embrace. Relief washed through his mind and relaxed his whole body. His fingers curled deeper into his brother’s back, desperately trying to communicate how much he has missed him, how much he needed him, how much he loved him. Tears spilled from his eyes.
No other explanation was needed. Dick wouldn’t have cared.
Damian was home.
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Born on a Monday
[A drabble written a while back that I was actually quite proud of, decided to share it]
How? How was this happening to her? Why now ?
Of course she was the only one on hand when Solomon Grundy decided to start causing chaos.
Bats was out, big bad Justice League business, above her pay grade. Robin and Red Robin we're doing some Titans thing. Thanks for the invite, boys. Nightwing had more than enough on his plate in Bludhaven, and Black Bat was off being a total badass somewhere else. Probably involving stabbing Shiva.
That left her.
Little ol’ Stephanie Brown.
She talked a lot of shit, and often backed it up. She fought a lot of things she probably shouldn’t have, but this call out genuinely made her worried.
She didn’t really have the luxury to think about that though, because she was already en route.
“Now you have to stay focused, Steph. If he gets his hands on you you're-”
“Yeah, I’m as dead as he is. I know, O. Stop reminding me. It doesn’t help. We both know you’d rather it be anyone but me out here for this but we drew a shitty hand tonight… now please. Let me focus.”
She scowled, her hands gripping at the handlebars of the Ricochet, resenting how much she sounded like Him just then, but the sentiment remained.
She needed to be fast. Smart.
Gritting her teeth, Stephanie caught sight of the wreckage of what was East End. Grundy had hit it like a hurricane. She felt sick to her stomach.
“Oracle, are there GCPD in the area?"
The clicking of a rapid search came over the comms, then her response,
“Yes, but they’re pinned down in the library, trying to help keep people safe. They can’t help you.”
Steph normally didn’t tut. That was normally a Damian thing. She tutted.
“I wanted them to get people out, so I don’t have to worry about that too. Tell them to start evacuating on my signal…”
“Wait, what will the signal be?”
“They’ll know it when they see it…”
She mutters, and floors it, heading for the Gotham Library.
She could hear him, roaring, tearing up street lamps.
Oh god she hoped this worked.
Lining up the hulking, grey frame on the sidewalk, she pressed a few buttons on her console, then released her grip on the handle bars.
‘NOW EXITING THE RICOCHET. GOODBYE.’
Batgirl was launched out the top of the vehicle, as it continued at top speed, slamming into the back of Grundy, spinning away, sparking on the asphalt.
“RRRRAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”
Turning to find what hit him, he spotted the blonde bat, making a three point landing from her hasty ejection, her eyes on Solomon. The comms crackle.
“That was your signal?”
“Part of it… yep..”
She mutters, then throws one of her electro-rangs at Grundy, finding her mark as it sunk easily into his rotting flesh, jolting him. Normally, it would have dropped a person, like being hit with a taser, but all it seemed to do was make him mad.
Good.
She took off at a dead sprint, across the plaza, away from the library.
Behind her she heard him start after her, along with the dragging and scraping of something heavy.
“RRAGGH!”
Whatever it was, he just threw it at her. She couldn’t risk glancing back.
Taking out her grappling gun, aimed, fired, and started towards a building across the plaza.
The Ricochet crashed down on the line as she was mid-take off, Grundy's long range depth perception either terrible, or much better than she expected, cutting her off hard, jerking her heavily into her bike, knocking the wind out of her sails, only just managing to roll aside, to not be pinned beneath it as they both bounced to the ground.
“You’ve got his attention. Now what?”
Oracle asked, somewhat wearily, as Steph groaned slightly, rolling away, trying to regain momentum, feeling the heavy footfalls as he closed in.
“That was the signal… they better be moving…”
She pushed herself up off the ground, and started towards the nearest inclosed building.
“They are… but who is going get you out of there when this goes south?”
She vaulted though the window, feeling fingers brushing her cape, twisting and slamming the pane shut on the offending arm, taking a minute to look around her surroundings.
A tiny, ten seater coffee shop.
Yeah, no. Last stand worthy this was not.
“GRUNDY SMASH BAT!”
Gotta move…
Steph scrambled over the counter and out the back door, to the horrendous sound of the front of the building being bulldozed by the revenant, trying to make good on his word. The back of the coffee shop lead to an alleyway, feeding down between the back of office buildings, with trash, dumpsters, fire escapes, and  back entrances, and locked gates. basically a bullpen. Or a dead end, if played wrong.
“Steph! I’ve got Nightwing flying in to help you out, if you can just hold out until he gets there.”
“Sure, because I was just taking it easy this whole time….”
She would have rolled her eyes, but she was too busy using them to scope out the alleyway, looking for ways in which to maybe get an upper hand, maybe only come away mauled, only maimed, not murdered.
The only real answer she kept rolling back around to were the fire escapes, and dumpsters. She’d have to plan on the fly.
Keep Grundy in this alley, with her, until Dick got here. No big deal. Then the two of them could die together.
No, that kind of thought was gonna help. She fiddled with a set of buttons, the remote call for Ricochet, on her belt as she ran to the middle of the alleyway, hoping it still worked, turning to face the advancing Grundy, drawing her collapsible bo staff.
“Alright, Brain Dead Fred, come get some!”
Taking up a defensive stance, the Batgirl waited as Solomon Grundy barreled down on her. She knew hitting him would only wear her out. It would be best with energy conservation in mind. Especially since her vehicle in scuffed and thrown around armor seemed like it wasn’t capable of coming to her rescue.
That was fine. Better to know now then if she needed it.
With Grundy swinging wildly at her, trying to swat her like an annoying gnat, she circled around him, ducking, dodging and weaving like her life depended on it. Because frankly, it did.
She propelled herself from the ground onto a dumpster using the staff as a pole vault, taking a running leap across the chained shut lid at the fire escape ten feet away.
“STOP RUNNING!”
Instead of swinging for her, Grundy knocked grabbed the fire escape, and pulled, leaving half the metalwork hanging loose, and another five feet away.
“Stop being so slow then, Rotbrains.”
Skidding to a stop, dangerously close to his grasp, she tried to reposition, ready to begin her defensive dance again, starting to wonder how far out Nightwing could be now.
Unfortunately, Grundy may have been dead, but he wasn’t as stupid as Steph has hoped. He started circling her now too.
Once they had switched sides in the alleyway, without breaking eye contact with her, he dragged the dumpster that was just used as a launch pad into the middle of the thoroughfare, cutting her directional movement in half, unless she vaulted again. While theoretically not a problem, it wasn’t a whole lot of distance between them for her to have her back to him comfortably.
“Shit….”
She hisses, taking a half step back, running a quick inventory on what she had on her. Some smoke pellets, bo staff, magna-rangs, goopa-rangs, shock-rangs. She ditched her grapple before when she ate a face full of pavement before, which, was undoubtedly going to leave a mark.
“BYE BYE BATGIRL….”
Not likely. Not today.
Shifting her weight she got low, ready to start moving one way or the other.
It was a standoff, between the walking dead, and a dead man walking. Which was which? Who knew.
Grundy lunged.
Steph went to the left, slipping under his arm. She was fast. She was faster. She was thro-no.
She had a cape. And now Grundy had her cape.
Before she could reach up to hit the safety release on the cape, she had been jerked backwards, off her feet, and straight into the brick wall, like a ragdoll.
Everything went white, as she lost all her air.
Sinking down the wall, as the ringing started fading from her ears, her realised she could hear laughter. Grundy was laughing at her.
Struggling to push herself up, Stephanie let out a weak gurgle, then shook her head, trying again. Her mouth tasted like metal.
Ok, new plan. Getting up wasn’t going to happen. C’mon Steph. Think.
Grundy was looming over her now, a crooked grin on his stinking  face, she looked up at him, up. Up. The fire escape. Hanging loose, rockng from the force of her hitting the wall.
“SQUASH LIKE A BUG!”
Both fists, poised readys to slam down on her almost immobile body, Steph flung all her batarangs skyward with a yelp of pain, falling to her side.
“MISSED GRUNDY!”
She coughed slightly, blood splattering the concrete before her.
“Wasn’t aiming for Grundy….”
DEETDEETDEET GOOOOOP! KERRRKRACKKK!
That was her queue. She rolled away, under the dumpster, as the force of the good dozen specialised batarang pods explosively discharged, knocking the precarious mass of metal loose, falling onto Grundy.
Stephanie wasn’t sure if she could hear the hum of a jet overhead, or if she was imagining hearing Oracle yelling at her to stay awake.
But everything went black.
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crazyfreckledginger · 6 years
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Batboys x Reader - “A Haunting Case Resurfacing On Halloween Night”
The boys agree to go trick or treating with you since it would be your first time. However, when numerous police officers are called to the outskirts of the city, the boys have to dig deeper into the mystery, leaving you to celebrate Halloween alone. What happens when the murders come your way and the boys become more and more distressed from the information they uncover following the murderer’s past? 
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A/N: Art found on Pinterest, credits to the author because I can’t find the source! Based off/ Implemented Halloween 2018 into it lol. I also want to thank the two anons that helped me! Even if I didn’t use all your ideas, they gave me so much inspiration!
Warning: A lot of violence and gore (in the second part especially), basically, if you’ve watched any decent horror movie like Halloween, Friday the 13th or even Scream you’re good! 
"Guys please, I've never gone trick or treating here!" (Y/N) whined. 
"Aren't you too old to be doing that?" Damian grumbled. Dick gasped dramatically.
"You can never be too old for Halloween," He scoffed. Jason rolled his eyes at the interaction, continuing to read the Stephen King book he started yesterday. 
"Fine!" Tim grumbled, "we'll take you to Halloween."
"Um, hello, you are both the same age, your elders are supposed to decide that!" Jason mumbled from behind his book.
"And who are our elders?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips. Jason smirked and sent a wink the girl's way. 
"Dick and I are, mainly me because-" 
"Jason no, that's not even a valid reason!" Dick scoffed.
***** 
After much persuasion,  you managed to drag Dick as a vampire, Jason as Jason Voorhees, Tim as.... you can't tell what it's supposed. He keeps saying he looks like a witch but it's too similar to Harry Potter. The boys agree with you but Tim keeps denying it for some reason that you will not be looking into. 
Somehow, you also managed to stuff Damian into a werewolf suit.
 You negotiated with him that he could put a face mask on if he would keep the costume on him.  The two elder boys decided to take you guys to the outskirts of Gotham since the atmosphere might have been more pleasurable since it would have been your first time celebrating in Gotham. Dick patiently waited in his police car. 
"Did your boss seriously agree that you could use your car on a break?" Jason grumbled, leaning against the window as he took a drag from his cigarette. 
"No, but, that's the only car I have at the moment. And stop smoking, there are kids around." Dick slapped his brother's shoulder lightly.
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"Okay, okay, I'll stop after I finish this one," He grumbled, groaning as he looked out of the open window, "I'm bored, when is this over, oh- I know, I'll call Roy to dress up as Freddy Krueger so we can scare the shit out of kids together," The younger man chuckled, taking his phone out.
"Jason no!" Dick scolds, pulling the phone out of his hand, "you're not terrifying kids half to death,"  
"But it's fun!" He whined.
"No!" 
"Fine, I'll listen to the radio then!" Jason muttered, reaching towards the dashboard and switching it on lazily before relaxing on the seat. He released yet another groan, waving at (Y/N) from a distance house as Tim and Damian followed close behind. 
~We've received multiple complaints of violence in the eastern outskirts of the city, any neighbouring officers are demanded to be on scene ASAP~ 
Both brothers looked at each other with wide eyes, knowing exactly what each was thinking.
"This is bad." Dick nodded.
"Very very bad," Jason agreed.
"I mean we can't just..ditch them..." Dick mumbled. 
~Officer down, we need all available units now!~
"Jason, call Tim, we're going!" The eldest started the car, turning on the sirens and racing down the road "Our... other outfits are in the trunk, we can put them on later" The former Robin informed, keeping his calm despite the unpredictability of the situation.
******
"Damian, I need you and Tim up here right now!!" Dick yelled through the phone. Damian groaned, agreeing and hanging up the phone. He nodded as his brother as he looked back to (Y/N).
"Look, (Y/N), we're so so sorry for ditching you on your first Halloween here but we really need to go," Tim stared at her with apologetic eyes. 
"Yeah, whatever, have fun," She grumbled frustratedly, watching the pair run off, eyes filled with regret. She shook her head, getting rid of the various emotions that had surfaced within her as her friends left her on her special day. 
The girl decided she would make the most of it. It was getting late, only a few children had gone off the street and back home. 
But the ambience hadn't faltered in the slightest. The street lamps illuminated the streets. She grinned as she got candy from a small area of houses, eating a few as she walked through a particularly dark area to the next set of houses.
She wasn't too preoccupied with the darkness. But she wasn't alert either. And given what was happening at this moment in time, she really should have been more aware, especially towards the set of eyes that were staring directly at her from the darkness.
******* "This is very haunting!" Red Robin stated through the intercom as he and Red Hood browsed through information about the murderer online. 
"Yeah, it is," Dick mumbled through him, walking through the house with two other officers. He winced as his eyes locked with a woman's body that was gruesomely covered in blood. 
~The target seems to be moving east according to the increasing reports of violence~ 
Dick's eyes widen as the radio buzzed on his chest.
"Did you guys here that?" He muttered, walking further into the house as one of the officers searched the gardens and the other crept up the stairs to the first floor. 
"Yes, he's heading straight to (L/N)'s area," Robin muttered from the roof, gazing around the house under his Robin's hood. 
"I'm heading there right now!" Red Hood informed.
"Without a car? I'm coming with!" Dick whispered before speaking louder, "I'm heading out for the recent events," he held upon the staircase, waiting to hear the officer's understanding. He heard a small mutter and raced out to his car, glancing up at the two figures on a neighbouring house. 
"Stay safe," Red Hood grumbled to his younger brother before jumping down, getting in the passenger seat of Dick's police car as the eldest started the car and raced off once again. 
******
The girl kept walking on the kerb and walking up to the first house she stumbled upon in the new area. Strangely enough, there was no one around, it almost seemed like all life had vanished but left everything intact. Brushing her intrusive thoughts away, she knocked on the door with a huge grin.
"Trick or treat!" She said cheerfully. No answer. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly before knocking again and placing her ear against the door. Still no answer. Weird, the lights were on! 
"Umm, hello?" She asked, accidentally opening the seemingly-unlocked door. A small gasp escaped her lips in surprise as she peeked inside. 
"Um hello? anyone?" She questioned, her voice coming out as barely a whisper as her gut was screaming at her to turn back and run. From what? She didn't know... yet.
******
"Where is she?" Jason grunted, scanning the number of kids that were running all over the place they were at earlier. 
"I can't see her either!" Dick breathed out.
"What if she got sick of this place and trick or treated somewhere else?" Jason stared at him through his helmet.
"Shit, she either went north or south at that intersection a few meters away, we went past it!" The former Robin groaned, turning the engine on. They drove there, stopping in the middle and staring each way.
"Where do we-"
"No, we split up, we can't take the chances with a psycho out there, you take that way, I'll run this way!" Jason pointed in each direction. Dick nodded, instantly feeling the pressure. The second eldest started taking his gun out to run more easily. He turned back to his brother as he felt his hand clasp on his shoulder.
"Bring her back safe little bird," Dick ordered in a disturbingly calm voice, eyes filled with worry and hope.
"Yeah," Jason breathed out, "you too!" The man nodded,  getting out and already shooting down the road as fast as his legs would take him.
"Hello?" Tim's voice echoed in both their ears.
"Yeah?" Dick answered for the both of them as he manoeuvred his big car in the opposite direction of that of Jason. 
"According to the documents, his name is Michael Myers. They were transferring him to another Mental Hospital where he would have been imprisoned for life for killing 5 people 15 years ago," Tim continued.
"Shit," Jason cursed out of breath, seeing the very dimly lit area of houses in the distance.
"Okay, Tim and Damian, I need you to get all the kids in the area cleared out right now," Dick ordered again, "we're on our way to find (Y/N)".
Part 2 coming on the 1st, let me know what you think about this so far!
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batfam-imagines · 7 years
Note
Imagine the latest batsis being one of the kids that Jason used to watch over as Red Hood. Her parents were unloving and toxic and she was starved of affection, until one day somebody just so happened to set their house on fire while she was away. Bruce adopts her (of course), and Jason is over the moon.
I tried! I wanted to post something really quick because I haven’t been able to post as much as I’d like to! Remember so send your requests in to my Ask Box!
“You don’t understand,B!”
“No, Jason, I don’t.There are hundreds of orphans in Gotham, why do you want me to adopt herspecifically?”
Jason groans, raking hisfingers through his hair, “She’s different, that’s why. She saved my life once,the least I can do is help her find a good home”
This seems to peakBruce’s interest, “What do you mean she saved your life?”
“It was when I firstcame back, before you even knew I was alive. I had gotten in over my head witha gang, they were all coming at me, I had lost my guns and all of a sudden thiskid comes charging through. She weaves through the gang members, manages todistract them long enough for me to get back on my feet, to get my guns back.If it wasn’t for her I would have been beaten to death for a second time”
The older man leansforward, “You kept up with her over the years?”
“Yeah, she didn’t havethe best home life. Her dad was a drug addict, her mom was an alcoholic andthey took all their frustrations out on her. At one point her dad tried toshoot her up with heroin and pimp her out to his friends, she was nine!” Jasonslumps into a chair, “She’d run away a lot, and I’d let her stay with me for afew days. I kept offering to get her out of there, but she refused. Kept sayingthat they were family, and if she wasn’t around to take care of them her parentswould be dead within a week. She’s a good kid, Bruce, and she’s lost everythingin that fire”
“Why don’t you adopt her? It sounds like she knows you,trusts you already”
“I’m not – I’m not always stable, B. I still have memoryrelapses, bouts of anger and insanity, you know that. Right now she needsstability, she needs a home, she needs … a dad”
Bruce glances at his second oldest, “And you think WayneManor would be a good place for her to find all of this?”
“Bruce, you may have a lot of flaws, and sometimes you fuckup, but you’ve always cared about us. I know – I know that I said you didn’t,when I first came back, but I was wrong. Even though most of us aren’t yourbiological kids, you care. She needs someone like that.”
“Very well, I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not going tomake any promises. For all we know Y/N Y/L/N has already been adopted”
When Bruce Wayne walks into the group home that you’re beingkept at you don’t expect him to ask for you by name. You’re brought into a niceroom with the billionaire already waiting for you
“Hello, Miss Y/N, I’m -”
“Yeah, I know who you are, Mr. Wayne. What I don’t know iswhy I’m here”
Bruce sits forward and clasps his hands, “You know my son,Jason, and he told me about what happened to your home and family. I’d like tohelp you, I’d like to adopt you”
You snort, “So you know that my house was set on fire by myparent’s drug dealers? And you know that they are still after me to settle myparents debts?”
“Yes, I know about that, and I also know that it is beinghandled. You know what Jason’s night job is, and he isn’t the only one in thefamily that is looking into your situation.”
“But you really want to adopt me?”
“Yes, I would. Of course the decision is up to you. You’d beliving at the Manor with me, Alfred, and my son Damian, he’s only a year olderthan you. My other sons Dick, Jason, and Tim all come to the Manor quite often,and the girls Stephanie, Barbra, and Cassandra tend to come around at leastonce a week”
“What do you want?”
“I’m sorry?”
You roll your eyes, “This is all too good to be true, peoplelike me don’t get chances like this. So what do you want?”
“I don’t want anything, Y/N. I want you to have somewheresafe that you can call home, I want to welcome you into my family. Listen, Iknow you don’t trust me, I know that in Crime Alley trust isn’t something thatyou can easily give. How about we have a trial run, you come and live with myfamily for a month, and if you don’t like it I’ll find you another family thatwill take care of you. How does that sound?”
“Jason’ll be there?”
“Yes, he’ll be staying in the Manor for a little while tohelp you settle in”
You stick out your hand, “Then you have a deal, Mr. Wayne”
Bruce grins and takes your hand, “That we do, Ms. Y/L/N.I’ll get the paperwork ready, why don’t you go and get anything you brought.We’ll be leaving today”
It’s been a month since you came to Wayne Manor, and you’vedecided that you want to stay.
“Hood!!”
“Kid? What the hell are you doing out here? And why the fuckare you wearing that?”
You do a quick spin and the cape flares out behind you,“Alfred made it for me when I told him that I wanted to stay with you guys permanently”
“And B okayed you coming out here alone?”
A shadow shift behind you and Batman steps forward, “Don’tworry, Hood. She isn’t alone. Robin will be joining us shortly and the two ofus will be staying with her on Patrol until I think she’s as trained as therest of you”
You jump up, clinging to Jason’s back, “Yeah! My code name’sSparrow, Da-Robin wanted to keep the whole bird-themed thing.”
Jason chuckles, “It’s cute kid, I like it”
Propping your chin on Jason’s shoulder, you stick out yourbottom lip, “Can’t I patrol with Hood tonight? I promise not to wander off, andI won’t engage anyone!”
“Sparrow, we talked about this -”
“I know, B, how about we make a deal”
Even though there isn’t any outward sign you know that Bruceraises his eyebrow, “Go on”
“How about I stay with you and Robin this week, and then I gowith Hood next week”
“You can go with Hood next week if I feel that you’ve improvedadequately in your training”
Launching off Jason’s shoulder you grab onto Bruce, wrappinghim in a hug, “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome, Sparrow. Now, it is time to go.”
You quickly spring off Bruce’s chest and take off to whereyou can see Robin’s shadow a few roofs over. Before Bruce can follow you Jasonplaces a hand on his shoulder.
“She’s good for you, you know.”
“She’s a lot like Dick was when he was younger. She lightensup Damian too, makes him act more like a fourteen-year-old, it’s refreshing.”
“Thank you for taking her in”
“I’m glad I listened to you, Jay”
“Me too, B, me too”
Bruce ruffles his son’s hair, “Alfred said that you have tocome to dinner tomorrow night, we’re celebrating Y/N’s adoption”
“I’ll be there, B.” Jason glances at the two teenagerssitting a few roofs over, “Your birds are waiting for you, and you know theycan get into trouble when you leave them alone”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, son”
“Yeah, Pops, see you then”
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Text
Mother Knows Best
Author’s notes: Another SpeedDemon fic? Say it ain’t so. I’m kidding. Can’t remember why I decided to write this aside from causing my bestie @girlwonder123x some pain (love you!). I also reference a few stories on @dctinytitans so you should totally check them out! (next Fic is gonna be a Lian Harper fic)
Rating: M for swearing and violence.
Words: 4606
         “Ok, lightning bug,” Irey reaches into her daughter’s crib,” Mama’s here. I gotcha.”
         Irey speaks softly, mostly about nothing, as she changes the five-month-old. Asha looks up at her mother, looking every bit like her father except for those dazzling green eyes, babbling and gurgling to herself. Irey smiles. She tickles the little girl, filling the room with giggles,” Someone’s in a good mood. You wanna see if Baba’s up? Huh? You wanna talk to Baba?”
         Asha snuggles up to her mother as they go to the living room. Irey makes a list of things she needs to do as she settles on the couch, pulling her nursing bra to the side. Asha latches on easily, long lashes fluttering shut. Irey looks down at her daughter with so much love. Breastfeeding is one of the things she’s loved most about being a mom. The health benefits and science behind it she loves, but being able to hold her baby, bonding with her this way is something she will never take for granted. After all, It’s something she never thought she would get.
         When Irey and her twin brother, Jai, were 13, they’d been told that they have a very low chance of ever having kids. This was due to the stress their powers put on their bodies, as they had to produce more ATP and there had been more science babble that Irey heard but didn’t process. At 13, she knew at some point she wanted a family, but not now. It didn’t really hit her until she was 17 and she had been dating Damian a while. They’d been cuddling on her bed, talking about nothing in particular. It just hit her how much she wanted to grow old and have a family with him. And how that might not happen.
         When Irey found out she was pregnant, she straight up called her doctor a liar. He did three different pregnancy tests, two in front of her face. She still couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t until that first ultrasound, where she heard Asha’s heartbeat for the first time, that it hit her. She was having a baby. The baby now nestled in her arms, contently nursing.
         Irey takes another minute to just be with her daughter before grabbing her communicator. She can’t exactly call Damian’s cell phone, but the process of getting in touch with him on the communicators is a pain in the ass. She has to request it, hope to whatever is out there that he’s available to talk and has service, and, even then, it’s not like they can really talk because it’s being recorded. Irey rolls her eyes as she selects Robin V (His brothers and Steph don’t even use the damn names anymore) and waits, her eyes drifting around the room. She smiles at a picture on the mantle. Damian and Irey are maybe 11 and curled up together in an oversized armchair. They were in the Wayne Manor library. Damian’s arm had found its way around her, holding her loosely. Irey, on the other hand, had both arms around his waist and her face practically buried in his neck, cuddling him like he was a teddy bear. You’d never know two seconds later he was punching Dick in the face.
         That had been the day they met. Her dad needed to talk to Dick (who she has long since stopped calling Uncle Dick because it was too weird) about something, and Damian was saddled with her. Damian had been an asshole towards her. He’s the first to admit it, but things got better as the day went on. He’d gotten her a rose from the garden after finding her crying there. He ended up reading Hamlet to her. Irey, to this day, still has no idea how they ended up cuddling in the photo. She just remembers feeling warm and Damian’s smooth voice reading the words she doesn’t quite understand.
         “Hello, my beautiful flower,” Irey looks at her communicator’s screen. Her heart soars at the sight of Damian. He looks like hell. Dark hair messy, dirt and sweat cover his face, showing her where his mask had been, a bruise starting to form on his cheek up towards his forehead. Irey beams, thinking he’s never looked more handsome.
         “Hey, babe,” Irey adjusts herself as Asha finishes feeding,” We miss you.”
         “Miss you too. I don’t like being away from my girls,” Damian smiles,” How are you?”
         “Well, not tracking a drug cartel in Guatemala, but I can’t complain,” Irey points the camera at Asha. The baby squeals at her father’s image, stretching her little fists out for him,” I think Asha misses her baba.”
         “Hi, Hayati,” Damian coos to his daughter,” I miss you so much. Baba loves you and can’t wait to see you tonight.”
         “Tonight?” Irey points the communicator back at her,” You all finished already?”
         “It’s been a week, Nuri,” he points out.
         “You’re working with Lian, Gar, and Bart. Forgive me for thinking the mission would last longer,” She teases. Damian smirks.
         “Why do you think I’m leading the team?” Irey snorts at this,” No, we finished yesterday. Father said to stick around til tonight, see if any more news comes our way. Then they’ll zeta us home.
         “I can’t wait to see you,” Irey gives him a smirk that sends a jolt of electricity down his spine,” I miss my fiancé. The bed is too big and cold without you.”
         “I’m sure we can warm it up,” Damian assures her with a wink,” Honestly, as much as I love you, Irey, it’s taken everything for me to not murder Bart. I can’t believe he’s related to you.”
         “I usually chalk it up to a future thing and leave it at that. Besides, your family isn’t much better.” Irey stands up, getting Asha a bottle of formula. Poor baby has her mother’s overactive metabolism. Irey sets the communicator on the counter, so she can still talk to him.
         “Fair enough,” Damian chuckles,” What do you two have planned for today?”
         Irey looks down at Asha, speaking in her baby voice,” Well, when it’s not 2:34 in the morning, Mama and Asha are going to get breakfast with Uncle Jai-Jai. Then we have to go to the doctor to get weighed. And if we’re still in a good mood, we’re gonna go grocery shopping and get yummy things to try; like bananas and strawberries and-“
         “You know,” A cool voice behind her interrupts,” If you speak to her like that, your daughter will grow up to be dimwitted.”
         Irey drops the bottle in her hand, whipping around. A woman looks at her. Dark brown hair, green eyes, caramel skin. Irey adjusts her grip on Asha, holding her as close to her chest as she can,” Talia.”
         “Irey?” Damian’s voice calls out. Irey uses a very tiny portion of her speed to grab the communicator so Damian can see her. She doesn’t dare use anymore or got too far, in fear of hurting Asha. Irey gasps when a dart hits her arm, barely missing her baby,” IREY?!”
         “Hello, my son,” Talia says coolly. Irey isn’t sure who recoils more at the words- her or Damian.
         “Damian,” Irey’s voice is firm,” I need you to hang up- “
         “N- “
         “Hang up and call the league.” Irey barks, not taking her eyes off of Talia. She feels different, slower. Whatever was in that dart must be neutralizing her powers. She growls,” What do you want?”
         “Can’t a grandmother come to see her granddaughter?” Talia moves towards her. Irey steps back, keeping her grip on Asha tight.
         “Stay. The. Hell. Away. From. My. Baby.” Irey spits. Talia smirks and it takes everything for Irey not to think of how much it looks like Damian’s.
         “You don’t scare me, speedster.”
         “I might not be scary, but I can be pretty fucking ruthless when it comes to my daughter’s safety.” Damian’s still watching, unable to move.
         “Who said it’s her safety you need to worry about?” Irey doesn’t have time to react as Talia pulls out a gun and fires at her. Just before Damian’s feed cuts out, he hears a crash and Asha crying…
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
         Dick, Jason, Cass, and Tim are silent as they enter their little brother’s apartment. Normally, they would stop to look at some of the pictures on the wall, as Irey likes to switch them out. Now they stop because of the blood splatter on the wall and the trail on the floor. Jason kneels beside a streak and mouths fresh. While Cass and Tim clear the living room and kitchen, Jason and Dick check down the hall. They open doors along the way, waiting for someone to jump out at them. Nothing. They check the master bedroom, finding nothing but an unmade bed and a pile of laundry. The men jump at the sharp cry that comes from the only room yet to be cleared.
         Cass and Tim meet them outside Asha’s room. Cass mouths Home clear. They nod. Dick throws the door open. Asha wails from her crib, holding onto the railing. While the other three check the room, Dick picks up his niece,” Hey, hey, hey. You’re ok. I got you, pretty girl, I got you.”
         “Dick.” Tim flips on the light. The front of Asha’s purple pajamas is covered in blood. Tears cut trails in the splatters on her cheeks.
         “Jesus fucking Christ,” Jason picks up a note in her crib. SAVE MY MOMMY in crisp feminine letters. The siblings exchange a knowing glance. This wasn’t good. Dick bounces Asha, trying to calm her, as Jason grumbles,” Wally’s gonna blow a gasket. Damian’s gonna blow a gasket.”
         “Baby,” Cass holds her arms out to Dick,” Give me baby.”
         Dick gently passes Asha to Cass. The dancer moves around the room in quick, sharp steps. The same pattern over and over. Most babies would hate the movement. Most babies don’t have Irey West for a mother. Asha’s cries fade to hiccups as she rests in her aunt’s arms, looking around for her mother or father.
         “We need to get her somewhere safe,” Tim says. Dick nods, already grabbing the prepacked diaper bag that Irey kept on the rocking chair. He opens her drawers, looking for something warm for the baby to wear in the cold December night.
         “So…who wants to tell Damian his fiancée and the mother of his child has been kidnapped by his mother?” Jason asks. No one answers him. No one wants to answer.
         After making sure Asha is secured to Jason’s chest with three separate straps and bundled up as warm as possible, the group heads towards the Batcave. It takes almost an hour to get there as Jason avoids any rough roads. Asha sleeps the whole way. They head Damian screaming the minute they ride into the cave.
         “WHERE ARE THEY?!” He roars at Bruce, Clark, and Diana,” WHERE’S MY FAMILY?!”
         “Damian, you need to calm down,” Bruce’s voice is firm and even.
         “DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN WHEN I JUST SAW THE LOVE OF MY LIFE GET SHOT BY MY MOTHER WHILE HOLDING OUR CHILD!”
         Asha wakes up at the sounds of her father’s shouts. She wriggles against her uncle, not wanting him anymore. Jason quickly unhooks her.
         “Damian-“Dick begins.
         “WHAT?!” Damian whips around. Everyone, everyone, watches his shoulders relax and his eyes soften. They hear the breath he releases at the sight of his daughter. Asha holds her arms out to him, babbling and cooing. Damian runs to Jason, cape flying up behind him, and taking her from him. He holds her tight, kissing her dark curls over and over and over,” I’m here. Daddy’s here. You’re safe. I got you. Daddy’s got you. I got you.”
         He holds her tight, just reminding himself that she’s here and alive and safe. But then he takes a closer look. Little bits of blood still fleck her cheeks and neck. His heart stops,” Where’s Irey?”
         None of his siblings answer him. Dick is the only one to meet his eyes. Instead of answering, he hands his little brother the evidence bag with the note inside. As quickly as his demeanor had changed when he saw Asha, it changes again. All the light fades from his eyes and his face grow tight. Asha gurgles in her father’s arms, typically something that would make him smile at her. This time he doesn’t react. He doesn’t look at his daughter, instead handing her to Dick. Asha’s confused as her father walks away. She starts crying. Damian doesn’t react.
         “Where are you going?” Dick asks, trying to calm Asha. The baby cries harder, stretching her arms out for Damian.
         “To find Irey,” Damian, without a second thought, hops onto his old motorcycle. He rides away before anyone can say anything to him.  
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
         Irey grits her teeth as the pain courses through her body. She won’t scream. Talia doesn’t get to hear her scream. Instead, Irey pulls on her chains. Why the fuck a church has a dungeon she’s not sure. Talia nods at her henchman, who cuts the electricity off. Irey releases a sharp breath.
         “I’m impressed,” Talia says, looking at Irey like a piece of meat,” I didn’t think you’d last this long.”
         “Fuck. You.” Irey growls. Her hair falls over her shoulders and into her eyes.
         Talia ignores this,” I suppose my son wouldn’t be attracted to someone weak. Though I still don’t see why he would choose you.”
         “Because I actually love him,” Irey doesn’t care if Talia knows it,” I love him and I love who he is- “
         “You stupid girl, you don’t know who he is- “
         “I know who you tried to turn him into. A cold-blooded killer who would never love anyone. Never let anyone in. And guess what, bitch? That isn’t Damian.” Irey can’t stop the cry of pain as Talia turns the electricity on again. Irey can tolerate more than a normal human, thank you speed force, but her muscles tighten until it feels like they’re ripping. She’s breathing heavily as the power cuts off.
         “I know my son better than some whore.” Talia’s words sting, but Irey meets her eyes.
         “I’m not a whore. I’m the love of his life, the mother of his child-“
         “A bastard-“
         “Just like her father.” Irey hates saying it, but technically it’s true,” But until her father, Asha will have a mother who loves her. Who will protect her. Who won’t ever use her like she’s just a pawn in a bigger game.”
         Talia slaps her across the face. Irey looks back at the older woman’s eyes, refusing to back down,” You think you scare me, bitch? I’m Irey West. I’ve been doing this shit since I was 10. There’s nothing you can do to me that I haven’t already been through.”
         “Maybe not you,” Talia’s fingernails dig into Irey’s cheeks,” But there’s a little girl I can still hurt.”
         Irey doesn’t recognize her voice through the anger and venom,” If you touch my daughter, I’ll shove my hand through your heart.”
         “My dear, there isn’t anything you can do to stop me-“
         “But there’s plenty I can do.” Both women look up. Damian stands in the doorway, blood on his uniform and his unsheathed katana. Irey relaxes at the sight of him,” Get away from her.”
         “Get him!” Talia shouts at the henchmen. Irey watches in horror as they attack Damian. But then she sees the cold look in his eyes. No.
         Damian doesn’t hesitate to kill the men, slicing them down as if they are inconveniences. No mercy, no pausing. Just killing. It’s just her, Talia, and Damian a minute later. Talia seems shocked,” I thought you weren’t supposed to kill.”
         “Doesn’t mean I can’t. I will say this one more time. Get. Away. From. Irey.” He snarls. Talia looks between Irey and Damian. Reaching into her pocket, she holds up a switch.
         “Unless I walk out of here, Asha will never see her mother again.” Damian looks between his mother and Irey. Irey can see some light come back into his eyes, see her Damian returning.
         “I won’t hurt you,” Damian sheathes his katana. He slowly moves towards them. Talia backs away towards another door. Just as Damian reaches Irey, Talia flips the switch. Irey screams at the top of her lungs, her back arching and every nerve flaring in pain.
         She sees snippets of her life pass before her eyes. She’s helping her mom make pancakes. Her dad is reading Lord of the Rings to her and Jai. She’s learning to throw lightning. She’s jumping around her room. She’s dancing in her underwear. She’s kissing Damian for the first time, his hands on her waist, the rain hitting their skin. Lian is shouting in her ear as something explodes. Mar’i’s teaching her how to make a Tamaranian dish. Jon’s telling her about an article he’s working on. Damian’s pressing kisses to her skin, telling her how beautiful she is. She’s holding Asha for the first time. Damian is down on one knee, asking her to be his forever.
         The pain cuts off and Irey slumps forward. Everything hurts. Her lungs feel like they’ve been fried. Her vision is blurry. Damian is at her chains. He picks the locks with ease and grabs her before she can fall to the ground. She can hear his heart beating. She can feel his arms shaking.
         “Irey…” She nearly sobs at the gentle way he says her name. She looks up at him.
         “Let’s go home.” She whispers. He nods. Damian removes his cape, wrapping it around her. She doesn’t bother reminding him that she doesn’t get cold. Irey lets him pick her up, breathing in his scent. Underneath the sweat and dirt, she picks up the traces of his cinnamon cologne. This is her Damian. He’s hers. She just has to remind him of that.
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
         Irey winces as Alfred dresses her shoulder. Whatever the dart had in it has yet to wear off. At least she has a cool new scar to show off.
         “I’m sorry, Miss Irey. Shouldn’t be much longer,” He assures her. Irey gives him a pained smile.
         “Would you believe me if I said giving birth to Asha with no painkillers hurt less than tonight?”
         “Miss Irey, you’ve sparred with Miss Mar’i before. I don’t doubt that you’ve faced worse pain in your life.” Irey laughs at this, then grabs her ribs,” Master Damian seems to be in a better mood.”
         “I saw him, Alfred. He went back to who he was before. Jason told me…He told me Asha was crying and Damian walked away from her.” Alfred finishes wrapping her shoulder.
         “Miss Irey, there are very few things in this world that we can change. Who Master Damian was before coming here is one of them.” Irey looks down,” However, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him act like that.”
         “Really?”
         “Yes. I believe the last time he gave into the darkness was about 5 years ago. After Miss Mar’i was nearly killed by her aunt.” For some reason this makes her feel a little better,” Miss Irey, if I may, Master Damian will never be free of those demons. No matter how much you might want to believe he could be, they are still there.”
         “I don’t know how to help him, Alfred.” She looks at the old butler,” I’m going to be his wife-“
         “Which means you, more than anyone else, have the privilege of knocking sense into his thick skull. Not an easy task as I’m sure you are aware of.”
         Irey laughs at this, ignoring the pain it causes her,” What would this family have done without you, Alfred Pennyworth?”
         “I do not believe the family would be as whole as they are. And a few of them would be missing limbs.” Irey laughs again. There’s a soft knock on the door,” It’s open.”
         Damian enters, holding a now sleeping Asha. He smiles at Irey. Irey sees his family at the doorway. She looks Alfred,” Can we have the room for a minute?”
         “Of course.” Alfred gathers his things and shoos the other’s away from the door. Damian sits on the bed with her.
         “How much trouble am I in?” He asks in Arabic. Both of them knew his family was probably listening right outside the door, but none of them spoke Arabic. Irey had learned it after they were dating.
         “Do you want me to answer honestly or sugar coat it?”
         “Honestly.”
         “Damian, you shut down. They told me Asha was crying, crying for you, and you ignored her. Not once, in her entire life, have you done that.” Irey looks down at their sleeping daughter. Asha’s curls are damp from her usual night sweats. She sucks on a baby bottle top. She’s content in her father’s arms,” I know what happened scared you. It scared me too. But things like this will happen in the future.”
         “You don’t know that-“
         “I know we both agreed that we would continue to be heroes. To set an example for Asha. To make the world a better, safer place for her to grow up in.”
         “How could it be a better place for her to grow up in if her mother isn’t there? How can I look our beautiful little girl in the eyes and promise I will never let anything bad happen to her when I couldn’t protect you? How can I possibly look her in the eyes if I have to tell her she will never hear you sing her to sleep or hold her or tell her you love her?”
         “Baby, I know you are scared. I don’t know what I would do if you died and I had to raise Asha by myself. But that’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried you will take all that hurt and anger and sadness and you’ll shut her out. You can’t do that. Not to Asha.”
         “Irey- “
         “I mean it, Damian. You cannot ignore Asha. No matter how much you are hurting. No matter how much you miss me. Asha needs you. She needs her father. She needs you to be there to wipe her tears away, patch up her skinned knees, fix her broken heart. She needs you to tell her stories about our old missions and how we fell in love. About the song you sang to me when you told me you had a crush on me. About our first kiss in the rain and the horrible head colds we had afterward. She needs you to chase the monsters away. She needs her daddy, especially if Mommy can’t be there.”
         Damian gives her a sad look,” I hate that my mother hurt you.”
         “Babe.” Irey kisses him. It’s soft and sad and longing,” What happened is not your fault. It’s hers. Only hers. You are not like her.”
         Damian tucks a strand of her fiery hair behind her ear,” I love you, Irey West. You are half my heart.”
         “I wonder who the other half is,” Irey presses a kiss to Asha’s forehead.
         “HAVE YOU TWO MADE UP YET?!” Jason yells. Irey laughs and Damian rolls his eyes.
         “Come on in, you guys,” Irey calls out. His family piles into the room. Damian scoots on the bed so he’s sitting beside her.
         “So the wedding still on?” Jason asks.
         “Todd, I swear to god-“
         “Actually,” Irey turns to Damian,” Can I see your ring?”
         Damian frowns, but hands over the obsidian engagement ring she’d given him two months ago. Irey’s own ring was at home. Irey turns to face him, holding one of his hands. Her eyes meet his, filled with love and awe,” Damian Wayne-Al Ghul, you are an impulsive man. You can be short tempered, bitter, broody-“
         “Have I mentioned how much I love this girl?” Jason asks. Dick shushes him.
         “There are a million things about you that I should hate. But I don’t. I don’t hate them, even though everyone keeps telling me I should.” Irey’s green eyes sparkle,” I meant what I said the first time I proposed. I’ve loved you since the day we met. You are my best friend, my rock, my confidant, my lightning rod. You have made me feel so beautiful and powerful and strong. Even though your mom is literally the worst mother-in-law ever, I still want to be your wife.”
         Damian beams at her. Irey holds up the ring and asks,” So, Damian Wayne-Al Ghul, do you still want to be my husband?”
         “Of course,” Damian laughs,” I have backed out yet.”
         Irey laughs and slips his ring back on,” Good because it would have been really awkward if you told me no in front of your family.”
         “We would have had to kick your ass,” Tim informs his little brother.
         “I think you mean try,” Irey says.
         “You have to take his side- “
         “Actually,” Irey turns to face the Batfam,” I decided to calculate who wins more often in a fight by reviewing old footage. Damian wins his fights against Tim 68% of the time, Jason 54%, Dick 77% of the time, and Cass 49.5% of the time. This means his odds of kicking your asses is about 62.125%”
         Damian grins at his brothers’ and sister’s stunned expressions,” She’s as smart as she is beautiful.”
         “I like you a lot less now,” Jason grunts.
         “What about Damian and Bruce?”
         “Insufficient information to draw a conclusion.” Irey grins,” You want to hear how likely he is to beat me in a fight?”
         The others roar with laughter, waking Asha. Irey gently takes the baby from Damian, shushing her. Asha looks up at her parents, specifically Damian. Then, clear as day, she exclaims,” Baba!”
         The other adults laugh while Damian and Irey look at each other stunned.
         “Bottle would be her first word,” Dick laughs.
         “She’s not saying bottle,” Damian’s trying very hard not to cry.
         “She said ‘baba’ that’s like universal baby talk for bottle,” Tim points out.
         “Baba,” Irey smiles at them,” means Daddy in Arabic. That’s what we call Damian at home. He’s Asha’s baba.”
         “Baba!” Asha smiles up at Damian,” Baba, baba, baba, baba…”
         “You know most infants aren’t actually talking around this time,” Tim informs them,” They just babble and we try to make sense of the gibberish-“
         Damian throws one of his hidden knives at Tim’s head. He misses, intentionally, but it shuts the older man up. The family decides to leave the young couple alone. Irey lays back, watching Damian as he coos to Asha in Arabic. His hands carefully caressing her curls and wiping drool from her chin. Irey smiles. This is her future.
         “I promise,” Damian says a little while later, Asha sleeping with her head on his shoulder. Irey looks at him, confused.
         “You promise what?”
         “I promise to not shut Asha out. If anything happens to you, I promise I won’t shut down. Or I’ll try at least.” Irey looks up at him, tears blurring her eyes.
         “Promise?”
         “Promise.” Damian pulls Irey close to him. She wraps her arms around his waist, nuzzling her face into his shirt. Damian listens as her breathing evens out and all the muscles in her body relax. This, this right here is heaven. His daughter sleeping on his chest and the love of his life at his side, both of them safe and loved and alive and with him.
         What more could he ask for?
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Text
The Bitter Taste of Graveyard Dirt
Wow it has been a long time since I have gone back to this universe. And man did I miss it. 
This fic is dedicated to everyone who has waited patiently for more of this universe, thanks everybody for still believing in me! (If you’re in the mood, prompts are still open right now, so go right on ahead and throw me something if you’ve got an idea for me!) 
Prompt: @oopstheregoesmysoul asked for; “Can you please do your Red Hood Stephanie begrudgingly having to come to terms with Bruce following his return from the dead?”
A Mouth Full of Blood A Soul Full of Sorrow A Face Full of Scars A Different Game ‘verse
Stephanie Brown was a killer, and she wore it like a brand on her face and carried it like a knot in her chest.
Redemption was a bitter word on her tongue. She was not redeemed, she was not forgiven. There was no balancing of the scales. Her sins were too many, the blood on her hands had seeped into her very skin, letting the whole world know what she was and the things she had done.
She was a killer, a monster, a criminal, an outcast, and she knew it. Everyone knew it. She lived on their fringes, avoiding most of them, tolerated only because she set aside her guns and stopped killing at the request of Cassandra Cain and a dead man.
Bruce Wayne had died, and in his own way, that had let her live again.
She spent her days patrolling Gotham and re-learning how not to kill, beating down criminals with her fists and crude weapons, not seeing the attraction of the fancy gadgets the others used, refusing to brand herself with the symbol of the bat again. She coordinated with Oracle, and carried a communicator in her helmet that allowed her to call for back up—or, far more commonly, to be summoned as backup. She avoided Tim Drake and was avoided by Dick Grayson and Jason Todd.
Cass was the only one who sought her out, and in many ways it was a reversal of their youth. Every time she returned to Gotham she showed up on Steph’s doorstep or in Steph’s room, having broken open the window, smiling in that way of hers that was a promise.
It was a promise of change, of hope for the future, a statement that Steph was not as dark and ugly and twisted as she knew herself to be, but Cass refused to believe or acknowledge. Stephanie Brown knew she was unforgivable, was too far gone to be saved, but Cassandra Cain was never one to believe that. She still saw Spoiler and Robin when she looked at the Red Hood, and sometimes it was a heavy burden, but most days it was… inspiring.
It made Steph want to be that again.
Bruce had offered her a way out, when she died. He had offered her a pass, a clean slate, a new life. Far away from Gotham.
But she had stayed. Gotham was in her very bones; this city which she had died for, where she was reborn, was so tangled in her very self that to leave it and never return would be like to cut out a part of her very being.
She had stayed.
She had stayed for her mother, she had stayed for Nell—now her foster daughter thanks to Barbara Gordon’s machinations—she had stayed for Cassandra Cain, and she had stayed to prove Bruce Wayne right when he said he believed that she could do better, be better, that she could still be a hero despite years of death and destruction left behind in her wake.
Bruce Wayne had died, and only then had Stephanie Brown found herself able to forgive him for all that he had done, and what he had failed to do. Only then had she managed to cut through the complicated web of hatred and been able to remember those moments of kindness and affection, to remember that she had once looked up to him and separate that admiration from the bitter taste of graveyard dirt.
So it was unsurprising that when she saw him standing on her doorstep, the entire world stopped spinning on its axis.
Her first thought was a dream, but  she knew better, knew better than maybe anyone that death was not always permanent, and she struggled to breathe, staring at him, standing so innocuously, waiting for her to say something.
“Steph?” Nell called from behind her. “What is it? Who’s at the door?”
There were ashes on Steph’s tongue and fire in her veins. “No one,” she said calmly, knowing her protégé would not be fooled for an instant. “I’m going out.” She stepped into the hallway and walked right past Bruce Wayne, heading for the roof.
“Stephanie,” he said.
“Not here,” she bit out. “Not where she can hear.” There was no scenario that he didn’t know about Nell; didn’t know about Scarlet, the sidekick of a criminal, the girl who would have been Robin. He’d know about Nell’s mother, in the hospital, her bills paid for out of Steph’s own pocket, he’d have seen Nell’s transcripts and paperwork and probably even knew the color of the paint chips she had selected to paint her room.
Fear rose in her throat, suddenly, that he would take Nell, sweep her up into his world the way that he had once swept a little girl with a purple cape, but she reprimanded herself. She had gone in willingly, her heart too large and her fists at the ready, happy to help and wanting to be a part of something.
Nell Little was a part of something already. She had a friend in Damian and a place at Steph’s side, and there was no force in the multiverse that could pry Nell away from Steph, not as long as Nell’s mother remained in the hospital in that deep and dreamless sleep.
She led Bruce up to the rooftops, and turned her face to the sky, where the Batsignal lit up the clouds. She closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath, trying not to feel like it was that night when she had clawed her way through satin and wood and six inches of dirty to finally find fresh air.
There were questions she should ask, apologies she should make, but she said nothing. She just breathed, her chest heaving like she was fresh out of the grave again, with bloody hands and her throat hoarse from screaming, and waited for him to speak.
Steph knew what she was—she was a patchwork of her own mistakes as well as the hurts he had caused. She had taken all of her own pain and lashed outwards; sometimes at the undeserving but just as often at people who had done nothing to earn her ire or her violence. All the codes she had followed while operating as a crime lord, all the rules she had laid down for herself... it changed nothing.
Spoiler and Robin would have not recognized the Red Hood. Or maybe they would. And that thought hurt even more. The idea that everything she was, was hurtling towards this path, that she was born to be a killer. Only with blood on her hands had she gained what she had wanted her whole life; acceptance, respect, a place in the world.
She was the Red Hood. She was Nell's mentor and Cass's best friend and the black sheep of the black sheep of superheroes. She was feared and respected, if not loved or admired. Her killer still roamed Gotham and her name silenced rooms.
But her heart ached the way it always had, looking at Bruce Wayne, and hoping beyond hopes that he could tell how hard she was trying to fix this—herself, her mistakes, the city even. Failing him was still a terrifying thought, a far worse nightmare than coffins and Lazarus Pits could craft.
“You look better,” Bruce finally said, and Steph felt like she was about to be split in two as her old hatred resurged, but so did everything she had felt since they had lost him. How, after all this time, could he still affect her like this? She was no longer a child—she’d had one child of her own, had given it away, and now had another child depending on her, looking up to her—but still he made her this vulnerable, this small.
She looked at him, and saw… Bruce. Comfortable in casual clothing that blended in with the area. He looked the same as he had the last time she had seen him outside of costume.
The last time he had seen her, however, was a whole different story.
She forced herself to speak. “I feel better.” She was still angry, she was still violent, her nightmares were still filled with screams, but there was a peace lodged somewhere in the midst of it all; maybe because of her mother, maybe Nell, maybe Cass, but it was there, and it hung like certainty in the air around her.
They stood there, looking at each other for a long, long time. There was too much to say, and yet not enough words. How could they spill out years of history onto this rooftop? These wounds were ancient; some healed, some scabbed over, others still fresh and infected, but Steph was struck by the irrevocable fear that saying anything at all would only rip it all open again, throw her back to those darkest days, push her back to that person she had been.
You can change, Cass’s voice reiterated in her ear. You have changed.
What did he see when he looked at her? She wondered, as she met his gaze. His own failures?
“I saw the videos of your protégé,” Bruce said, instead of any of the other things she might have expected him to. “She’s very good.”
Pride swelled in Steph’s chest, and she realized what he was trying to do. Common ground, maybe, or even just perhaps sticking to safe topics, never mind that Nell had once been her accomplice, no matter how far Steph had kept her from major criminal activity.
“She is,” Steph said, instead of calling him out on it. The tension hummed in the air, but neither of them acknowledged it—neither of them wanted to. Both of them knew that there were so many ways that this conversation could go, and most of those conversations took them down paths that were littered with even more regrets. There was too much history there, Steph thought. To ask even the most innocuous of her burning questions would only open the door to the rest of it—her death, her killings, her return, the Black Mask. She was sure it was the same for him. They were alike in that, neither of them willing to shatter this moment, to shatter this fragile peace.
Steph wasn’t even sure if the peace that would shatter would be the peace between the two of them on that rooftop, or the peace that Steph had fought so hard to create with the others.
“When did you get back?” Steph asked softly, instead. “I know Tim—he was saying—”
She had ignored him, as she had ignored Tim Drake for so, so long. She had nearly beaten him to death in her own rage, and she had no right to speak to him, and while he felt differently, he avoided her in turn, the two of them staying so far apart, when once they had been so close. The thought burned in her mind.
“Today,” he said, surprising her. “I… I wasn’t sure if you would have stayed. I’m glad you did.”
The acknowledgement of his farewell to her took the breath from her lungs. “Gotham is my home,” she said.
He smiled at her. “I know. It suits us both.”
The comparison of the two of them to him nearly broke her, nearly destroyed every ounce of her self-control. But she did not want to fight, or scream. All she wished to do was cry. She had mourned him, she had buried him, she had gone his funeral and ranted at his tombstone. She had died with his secrets scalding her tongue and belief that he was coming for her in her heart, and she had screamed his name as she had clawed her way out of her own grave. He had not come for her either time.
But he had not known, could not have known, and she’s managed to make her peace with that part.
And he had come this time.
“Suits all of us,” Steph said, avoiding the implications he had made. He can’t ever understand her, not really. She doesn’t want him to. To understand her was to be her, to have murdered her teachers for their numerous crimes, to have emerged from the Lazarus Pit with liquid fire in her blood, to have died with her eyes wide open.
She would not with that on anyone.
“Cassandra is flying in tonight,” he said. “You should come by.”
He won’t ask her to come for him—maybe he knew he had lost that right, to ask her for anything, but she had also lost the right to ask him for anything, so perhaps, in that, they were even.
“I—I’d like that,” she whispered.
I was a child, she didn’t say. I trusted you. She had idealized him, believed in him, trusted him, followed him. And she had died under his care, wearing his uniform, fighting in his name, and they both knew that.
He nodded at her. “Nell is probably worried.”
She wanted to call him out for leaving so soon, but she wanted to escape as much as he did. The weight of it all was too much. She could see the Black Mask’s face every time she closed her eyes, and the questions were fighting her, demanding to be spoken, demanding to be asked.
She would not be the one to break the peace, she thought, biting her tongue. Not tonight. Maybe later.
“She will be,” she said. She walked towards the door back to her apartment. She did not look back, knowing he would already be gone, vanished into the night. But she would see him again later, and she knew she would get her answers eventually.
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