sadlybeans - Tumblr blog

sadlybeans · 1 month

Text

Part 3 is now up!

No More Batman AU Part 1: Robin is Dead

(link for AO3 here)

Batburger was the last restaurant Jason would’ve chosen to give money to, but it was the closest to the apartment and also the cheapest. After all, wherever else can you get two vegetarian sandwiches plus fries and drinks for 9.99? Alas, going into the store plastered with Batman and Robin memorabilia that made him want to punch a wall.

The teenager at the register talked with a bored monotone voice as he repeated the order, completely unphased by the suspicious man towering at the other side of the counter, and Jason scoured the restaurant as he did, evaluating for any possible danger. The booths by the corner were occupied by a group of girls still in their uniform and talking loudly as they discussed an upcoming dance recital, and the only other table that was occupied consisted of a young college student having a breakdown as they typed frantically on a beaten up laptop, all in all not an apparent threat. Actually, Jason was the biggest threat in that place, towering over all the costumers with his 6’3 frame and broad shoulders that were poorly concealed by a red hoodie and a black leather jacket.

“… do you want to add anything else to your order…?”

“No” he tossed a twenty bill on the counter just as his phone pinged. I’m starving, come back this instant. He sighed. “Make it twice as fast and you can keep the change”

The cashier vanished towards the kitchen in a hurry.

Gotham hadn’t changed at all since he died, from her dirty streets to the police sirens echoing in the distance and her shadows flying overhead… the same shadows he was trying to avoid as if his life depended on it. Even if he was believed to be six feet under he took all the necessary precautions to conceal his face, even wearing a surgical mask in the short three minute hike to the shitty rental unit they called home.

“Food’s here” he announced as he took off his shoes and jacket, dropping the mask as well. From the hallway you could hear the cacophony of noise the washing machine was making.

Unpack, fold the napkins, serve. Still nobody else in the kitchen.

“Your painting is still gonna be there later” he drawled in a louder voice towards the hallway.

Nothing.

Fuck… he really cursed his decisions in life in that moment, and also found a newfound respect for all single mothers and fathers out there.

“Damian Al Ghul-Wayne, it’s time for dinner and if you don’t come here this instant I’ll drag you here myself”

Something was thrown on a desk -a sketchbook most likely- and seconds later a lanky teenage boy emerged from his bedroom, slamming the door behind him and stomping his way over to the table, where he sat down without saying a word.

Damian had grown since the first time they met— back then he was only five, a tiny ball of anger that gave nightmares to his experienced tutors. Now he was fifteen and he was, to Jason’s relief, an almost completely normal child; he watched TV, he liked animals, he liked painting and writing, and he was smack middle on his teenage rebel phase. Assassin abilities aside, he was no different from most other kids his age thanks to Jason’s influence, something Thalia often reminded them both of.

He’s a little demon brat. He would tell her.

You just miss the days in which he was glued to your shadow. She would answer affectionately.

They had not seen her in over a year now and Jason knew part of his attitude was due to being in a completely different place with a different culture, away from his grandfather’s luxurious palace and his mother’s love. But it was for his own good… he deserved to know his father too, and Thalia had always intended to have him sent to Gotham eventually, although not as late as it ended up happening.

However… one year after arriving in Gotham, they had yet to seek out the Bat. Jason didn’t like to admit it, but he wasn’t ready to part from the boy he had raised for the past decade, because once he dropped Damian at his doorstep he would not see him again for a long time, if ever. And apparently Damian wasn’t eager to leave, as he hadn’t asked about it once.

“I’m going out tonight for a job” he announced, breaking the silence “tomorrow morning we have an appointment in Gotham Academy to enroll you, so wake up early and dress in something that isn’t a hoodie and sweatpants.”

Damian frowned, squeezing the empty wrapper of his sandwich on his fist.

“I don’t need to go to a stupid school full of dumb children! I’m much smarter than that bunch of… bunch of idiots!”

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Don’t get smart with me, I taught you to tie your shoes and helped you with your essays” no matter how hard Damian tried, he was still just a baby in his eyes “your mother arranged this for you, so you are going. Coming to live with your father means mixing in and being normal”

“But I am not living with father!”

Jason sighed.

“You will soon, so it’s better to arrange some things beforehand, to help you adjust—“

“It’s not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair! Look, just— going back into routine will be good for you, and besides school doesn’t start for a few more weeks. I know this is new and all but you do need to socialise too”

“But I don’t want to go, why can’t I make my own choices if you want me to grow up so badly!?”

“Because you’re still a child! You think you know everything but you don’t, I was fifteen once too! And until you can make your own decisions it’s my job to do what’s on your best interest”

Damian threw his cup to the ground spilling ice everywhere and ran back to his room, slamming the door so hard that the downstairs neighbour knocked on the floor -their ceiling- with a broom seconds after.

Jason wasn’t too hungry anymore. Maybe they could have the leftovers later.

Walking inside a Batburger was like stepping into a personalised nightmare, with Robin’s face plastered in every wall and menu. Dick Grayson pursed his lips and avoided looking anywhere but straight at the line of people in front of him, holding his bag (“it’s not a purse, Steph, who else is gonna carry all of your stuff while you guys run around?“) tightly.

Normally going to the faire every year involved them following the long standing tradition of devouring a mountain of tacos and making a competition out of it, but that year the owner of their favourite truck had retired and nothing tasted the same. They were tired and hungry, and Batburger had the shorter line of people waiting, be it for their mediocre food or their “Five Minutes or Free” slogan.

After waiting for seven minutes, he called bullshit on that slogan and texted a photo of the sign to the groupchat, demanding Bruce send them a lawsuit.

Tim answered with a zoomed in picture of the tiny print at the bottom that basically said ‘restrictions apply’.

Dick sighed defeatedly and resigned himself to wait for a few minutes more, when one of the other patrons started raising their voice.

“-sorry sir but your order says—“

“I know what it says, I’m not illiterate” the young boy answered in a snappy tone “I explicitly told your half deaf coworker that I wanted no pickles! Make it again!”

“But the ticket says—“

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“No sir, but—“

“Then make it again!”

“We’re not allowed to do that but I can offer a discount for—“

The kid seemed about to jump over the counter to strangle the employee and Dick decided he needed to step in less they caused a bigger scene, so he slipped behind the teenager.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt— I know this is a really big inconvenience for all of us here so, why don’t you just give this kid a new order? He clearly doesn’t want the pickles and your coworker might’ve simply forgotten to write it down”

The employee looked unsure.

“Company policy is very strict”

“Then is there anything else we may be able to do?” Dick asked with a smile, purposefully letting his jacket move and show a corner of his old police badge.

The employee smiled nervously.

“I’ll bring out a new one—“

He disappeared to tell the cooks and Dick sighed, shaking his head. The kid huffed and crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed, and a minute later the guy came back with the new sandwich and Dick’s full order. He smiled and took his order, but the kid didn’t bother to hide his distate as he snatched the paper bags from the counter.

For some reason, he decided to follow quickly.

“Hey, did nobody teach you to say thank you?”

The kid stopped to turn to him, and he finally got a good look to his face; he had brown skin darker than his own and black hair that tried to be arranged as rebel but was too soft and straight to stick to said style. His eyes were hidden behind round sunglasses and he wore a black hoodie that was a few sizes too big.

“Did nobody teach you how to mind your own business?” he replied sarcastically.

Dick nearly gasped like a suburban white lady, as Duke usually called said expression.

“That’s not—“

“Whatever”

The kid turned around and walked off, leaving Dick with his mouth gaping as he watched him go to a tall intimidating mountain of a man waiting by a lamppost. He too wore a pair of fashionable round sunglasses and a red mask, with only a tuft of wild white hair visible from beneath his red hood. The kid’s father or uncle maybe?

Dick’s phone pinged insistently and he groaned, turning away and forgetting about it as he walked away to go find the others less Steph started bombarding him with more texts about starving to death.

By some miracle nobody had been murdered when he sat down at their table, although Tim had left them to hang out with his friends instead. Dick thought it was so great he was socialising, and it was so nice to see Cassie and Bart all grown up. Conner looked so happy too, which was a relief after all he had gone through— Dick made a mental note to call uncle Kal and ask how Lois and Jonathan were doing. Ever since Bruce retired from the hero business Nightwing had picked up his place and he was the main line of communication between his father and the League; they never knew of his secret identity but they still considered him a close friend so they kept in touch, which Dick was grateful for since god knows Bruce needed it.

“Finally!” Steph snatched a bag from his hands and started passing on each person’s order “Why didn’t you hurry? You’ve gotta leave before six if you want to avoid rush hour”

“I’m sure they’ll make it just fine” Duke appeased her, pushing the biggest bag of chips towards Cass, who thanked him with a smile. “It doesn’t close anyways”

“That’s not the point and you know it—“

Dick offered a small smile and started eating in silence while soon their conversation drifted off into other topics. They didn’t try to include him or Bruce into it, they knew that it was already inconvenient enough that their annual faire trip had unfortunately coincided with this specific date—

Normally, this one day a year was reserved for peace and quiet; Alfred would be off from early in the morning and they’d spend their time doing their own things in relative silence, and Cass, Tim and Duke would pretend they did not notice that a certain locked door was ajar at the end of the hallway. Then at around lunch Dick would come into the manor, leave them takeout, and he would leave with Bruce, both of them dressed semi formally, not always in black. Cass, Tim and Duke would pretend there wasn’t any tears in Bruce’s eyes when they said goodbye.

Tim had gone once, when he was a kid, just to pay his respects. He says they stop by a small quaint flower shop to pick up the same arrangement as every year, and then they sit with Jason for a while in the empty cemetery. Forget-me-nots, camellias, white chrysanthemums. They would be back an hour or so later, and Bruce would hug each of his boys and his princess, and the next day they would slowly build back up to normalcy.

Duke had suggested they cancel that year, that the faire would come back the next one anyways, but it hadn’t been such a bad idea to come after all… it was nice. They shared time as a family and they had fun, and most importantly neither Bruce nor Dick had been particularly down the whole day. Not that— not that they shouldn’t be sad… none of them knew what it was like to lose a brother or a son.

“— don’t forget to use your lights” Dick came back to himself just as Bruce was lecturing Tim, car keys in hand.

“I know B, I’ve been driving for months” the boy sighed, holding out his palm.

“Don’t worry mr. Wayne, we’ll keep Tim out of trouble!” Bart chirped from behind Dick’s little brother.

Bruce looked far from convinced.

“Are you sure you don’t want Cass and Steph to drop you off?”

Tim groaned and Dick chuckled, finally stepping in.

“I’m sure they’ll be just fine, Tim’s a big boy now”

Tim gave him the middle finger but Bruce finally relented and gave him the keys, letting them go after a hasty goodbye. They watched them retreat and Dick smiled softly at his brother’s hand holding Conner’s.

“We’ll be going too, I think. Tell us when you arrive, yes?”

“Be safe on your way” Duke told him after giving him a pat on the back.

“Bye!” Steph waved from the other side of the table.

Cass hugged their father and then Dick, patting his back gently and whispering a goodbye. Dick had to keep reminding himself he’d see them later that night as they walked to the parking lot.

“—that’s why the Jason Todd Fund—“

The car breaked hard and Damian yelped as he was propelled forwards and nearly slammed his face on the windshield if not for the safety belt across his chest.

“What the fuck was that!?” he coughed as he sat back up “What’s wrong with you!?”

Jason wasn’t listening, his knuckles turning white where they held the steering wheel and his shoulders tense. He must have heard wrong, he surely had… he turned the volume on the radio nearly all the way up and the locutor’s voice filled the car.

“— today marks the tenth year since the tragic death of Jason Todd-Wayne and thirty five other victims of Park Row during a building explosion orchestrated by the Joker before his disappearance. This year’s vigil is attended by Bruce Wayne’s daughter Cassandra and his foster son, Duke Thomas. Bruce Wayne himself and his eldest son Richard Grayson have refused their appearance and expressed their wishes to mourn in private as many other families have chosen to do, but it is only thanks to Wayne Enterprises’ generous donation that the vigil is possible—“

Jason had almost stopped breathing entirely, frozen in his seat, and even Damian was shocked into silence, staring wide eyed at the radio as if that could provide any answers or context into what they were hearing.

“—tham Gazette was able to interview Richard Grayson on the matter and his words have moved the hearts of many today;” and it was him, it was his voice in his car: “There’s no words to express our gratitude at the kindness shown by all of Gotham. All of us have sadly lost a loved one to criminals like him, all of us have felt the desire to give up sometimes, but it is a testament to our strength that we continue to fight despite our pain. It reminds us that we are all equals in this world. For us… we never had a body to bury, never had closure as to what happened to my little brother, and we are not the only family with a member that will forever be missing—“

Jason turned off the radio and the silence was deafening for all of two seconds before it registered in his brain that the cars lined up behind them were honking like crazy. Slowly the car moved forwards and he turned right on the corner, parking right in front of a half deserted pizza place.

He just stared at the road outside and the people walking by going about their normal day, to the dirty sidewalk and the lights reflecting off the damp concrete. For a year he had been living in the same city, breathing the same air, and he had never once heard a single word about his ‘old family’ beyond a few commercials on the TV about Wayne Enterprises. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to go out at night to observe Gotham’s vigilantes— and now, the first time he had to confront the fact that his past was still alive right there in Gotham, it happened to be on the damn tenth anniversary of his death.

Fuck, it wasn’t even the right date, he died nearly an entire week earlier in Ethiopia.

He had— He had to leave. He couldn’t… this was too much, he should’ve never come back to this cursed city no matter how much Thalia begged him to, he should’ve never played house with Damian for so long knowing he would have to say goodbye anyways. So he had to leave now that he wasn’t entangled in anything with them just yet. Damian’s school enrolment was all handled, he knew how to move around the city both by simple directions and public transport, he knew the basics of human interaction— he was ready. He had been ready so long ago and Jason should’ve let him go then.

He merged back onto traffic and started drafting travel plans just as a light rain started falling.

“Hey bud, your books are still all over the living room, we need to leave this place spotless by the end of the day!”

The kitchen appliances had come with the apartment and neither of them would need any of the other things he’d bought when they moved in so he left them all where they were, the landlord could probably make some use of them or donate them. The fridge was already empty and their trash had been taken out so they would just stop at a nice place to eat later.

Clothes had all been handled, documents were already on the organised folder, trinkets packed up for donation or in the car, passport ready and plane ticket right besides it—

“Damian have you seen my phone?” he lifted up the cushions and looked around, he could’ve sword he had it in hand seconds earlier! “I was thinking we could go to that lebanese place down on 38th? It’s not too fancy but the food was good and I know you liked it even if you won’t say you did.“ as he spoke he made a couple laps around the living room and then figured it might just be in his bed “Or if you want we can try something new, we can splurge as much as you want— Damian?”

He had to do a double take as he nearly walked by the open bedroom door; the last suitcase was open on the bed, neatly organised clothing and books put on it, with only a last few things on the desk. The teen boy say besides it completely still, staring at the dull grey carpet and his spotless white socks.

“You ok?”

Damian didn’t answer, didn’t even acknowledge his presence despite the fact that for the past two years he had gone off every time Jason set half a foot into his bedroom like he was doing now.

“… I know this is probably very sudden and that’s making you nervous but I’m sure everything is going to turn out fine, if it doesn’t then Thalia will surely come pick you up right away and—“

“Why do you want to get rid of me?”

Jason’s words died in his mouth.

“W-What?” he let out in a whisper.

“I’m never going to see you again” he repeated, twisting the sleeve of Jason’s hoodie between his fingers “Is that why you’re trying to get rid of me so badly?”

For a moment, Jason stared at him, at the way his fingers moved, and then he looked around the room and all the books that once had been his but had slowly been stolen away after he was done with them, and to the suitcase full of clothes of which half had once been part of his own closet.

“Of course I’m not” he said weakly, not knowing what to say “I know this isn’t great and I… I can’t keep you here forever, kiddo. It doesn’t mean that I like it but your dad—“

“He’s not my father”

“Damian—“

“Forget it, I never said anything” he grunted as he stood up and walked out of the room, bumping their shoulders roughly as he passed by.

“I didn’t mean to—“

“I said forget it!”

Jason stood there lost on what to say or do as he heard the door of the bathroom closing and locking, and it wasn’t until minutes too long of standing there that he realised Damian wasn’t coming back. Moving in automatic like a robot, he organised the last things left in the bedroom inside the suitcase and zipped it up.

His heart felt like an endless void when they carried their things down the stairs to the car, Damian’s face obscured by his sunglasses and the hood of his sweater. It only grew larger and larger as the motor ignited and as they drove away from the building. It was just a shitty rundown unit that cost way too much for what it was actually worth, everything had broken down at least ten times over the year, the walls were paper thin and the neighbours all sucked, and yet it still felt like losing the only home he had had in the past ten years.

It didn’t brought him any relief when Damian passively aggreed to eat chinese, nor when they finally had an entire meal without bickering or full on fighting. He didn’t even scold him for wearing sunglasses indoors, or for refusing to touch the green peppers on his meal.

The food tasted like nothing as his head kept spiralling into a million thoughts and possibilities and what the repercussions could possibly be if he just refused to give up Damian, and then he felt so stupid for even thinking he was cut to take care of the boy when the past year had left clear he was a shitshow of a caretaker and that the only reason he had had success during the boy’s childhood was because Thalia was there along with a small army of tutors and caretakers. He would be so much better off, so much happier, once he arrived at the manor regardless of how Jason felt about it because like it or not, Bruce Wayne was his father and there was nothing to do about that.

As they drove away from the restaurant he kept trying to convince himself that he was just overthinking things, that he was going to be just fine once they split up, that he wasn’t going to be worried all day every day, that he wouldn’t regret walking away forever.

The taxi driver was punctual as she had promised and she helped them load the car with Damian’s suitcases and boxes, leaving only just Jason’s luggage in the backseat. Then she gave him a sympathetic pat on the back and got on the car to give them some privacy.

“I already paid for the ride, she’ll drop you off at the doors and then you give this to either your father or Alfred” Jason put the folder in Damian’s hands, repeating the instructions he had drafted and memorised days ago “your phone and electronics will likely be inspected but I already wiped any identifying or sensible information regarding me, so you text your mom when you get there and she’ll let me know, it should be right before my flight. Remember that you were here with just another random assassin, nobody of relevance, got it?”

Damian pursed his lips at the folder and nodded stiffly. Jason took a deep shaky breath.

“… I’m sorry. I’m gonna miss you, even if you don’t think I will. If I can— If I ever have the opportunity, I’ll write or- or something”

“….”

In a last impulsive decision he pulled Damian to his chest and just— hugged him. For one, two, three seconds and then just maybe an entire minute or more. He never wanted to let go. Damian didn’t hug back.

When he pulled away he cleared his throat and smoothed over the rumpled hoodie, escorting him back to the taxi and closing the door behind him. Damian didn’t look at him once as they drove off.

Jason would like to say he didn’t stand there on the empty street for long minutes after the taxi disappeared in the distance, that he didn’t feel like his entire world was ending as he drove to the airport, and that there wasn’t any tears clouding his vision the entire trip.

And if he could only just have thought of staying a minute or a few seconds longer, then maybe he would know that in the backseat of that taxi, a fifteen year old boy was sobbing quietly as he hugged a folder against his chest.

72 notes · View notes

sadlybeans · 1 month

Text

No More Batman AU Part 3: Lazarus Pit

AO3 link || part 2

“All ready?”

“Ready and waiting, N”

“Same here”

“….”

“Good, then let’s get this party started… You know what to do, Nightwing out”

The coast was all clear and the preparations were perfect, but just as he was about to step out and finally get the case over with, the ground shook and one of the trucks by the warehouse exploded, alerting the thugs that quickly raised their guns as alarms were sent out. It all happened too fast for any of them to react before it was too late.

“What the fuck was that!?” Spectre yelled into the comms, and Spoiler’s answer came too jumbled with static for Nightwing to make out.

“It’s the bat!” one of the thugs screamed, pointing wildly at the shadows “it’s Batman, he’s here!”

Dick cursed under his breath, but at least they seemed afraid of the thought of meeting the Batman, and they had to move fast now—

“Batman!?” Dick froze. “I’m ROBIN!”

A slender figure, barely a blur of yellow, dropped down from where they had been hiding behind a stack of containers and the smoke of the explosion, kicking a thug as they landed and quickly contorting to evade the bullets, moving as fast as a shadow to put the criminals down.

And Nightwing… Nightwing stared with eyes wide as saucers, breath picking up as all he could see was Robin, his little brother and his wild black hair, the yellow cape that had a chili sauce stain in a corner from that one night Dick saw him last, the same scratches in the front and the chip to the R on his chest. The kneepads that had once been red but the colour had faded into black again, and the gloves that he had stolen from Dick’s old suits because he didn’t quite like how his’ fit.

“N! N, you have to breathe!”

No, no, no, no, no—- Jason was gone, he was dead, he couldn’t be here, he couldn’t.

“Nightwing! Fuck— Dick, breathe!”

Spectre slapped him across the face and he gasped, taking a big breath and chocking on it as the burn of his lungs registered. Through his blurry eyes shapes started taking definition again and he found that Tim was holding his shoulders, his worry visible even through the sharp angles of his cowl.

“Robin… Jay…” he croaked weakly.

“Spoiler and Black Bat have him, you need to listen to me; breathe slowly. One, two, three… hold it”

He gulped and started to imitate how Tim’s chest rose and fell, and slowly but steadily the panic attack subsided and he was left shivering in the cold metal of the shipping container he was half-sprawled onto. It was only then that the girls jumped down next to them with Robin.

He looked up so fast his neck could’ve snapped— It wasn’t Jason. Dick blinked quickly, moisture gathering in his eyelashes and making the mask uncomfortably slick… Damian, arms crossed and lips twisted in a scowl, stood right in front of them all. Robin’s old suit didn’t suit him all the way, he was taller and broader than Jay had ever been, but when his hair wasn’t brushed back and when he was far away enough to overlook his bronze skin they could be confused for one another. Spoiler and Black Bat looked right about to jump him, and when Spectre stood up with his fists clenched, ready to unleash his fury upon the kid, Dick started sobbing.

Clark took a deep breath as he leaned on the balcony railing. The sun was almost gone down the horizon and the house was submerged in a tense silence that could’ve been cut with a knife. In any other circumstance he would’ve taken the time to be surprised and excited to finally, after over two decades finding Batman’s real identity, but the situation was dire.

“I know I’m asking for too much” Bruce repeated “but you and Diana are the only ones I could trust with this”

“Are you completely sure?” Clark finally turned to him, brows crinkled in worry “It’s just so…”

“Impossible? I would think so too if I hadn’t checked all of their suits’ cameras” Bruce passed a hand through his hair and walked back inside the studio to grab his forgotten glass of whiskey and chugging it down in a single gulp. “I can’t leave Damian unsupervised any longer, and I no longer think letting him leave is the best option”

Rao, he was just a boy… but Clark knew it was true, he had seen the recording as well, and he still couldn’t shake the look of the kid’s glowing green eyes out of his head. When his emergency comm rang so late at night he worried, and he’d flown straight to Gotham to find that Bat— Bruce’s kids had gotten into a full on fight with the youngest and most recent addition to their family. By then Damian was already locked inside his room but Dick had still been mid his second panic attack and Tim needed a cast on his entire left arm since it was broken in three.

Bruce was adamant that Talia wouldn’t have lied about the Lazarus Pit, not when it came to her own son. That meant that, seeing as Damian had refused to talk, they needed to find the one other person who knew the full truth; the boy’s mysterious caretaker who he called his ‘baba’. And most importantly…

“Locking him in his room is not going to help” Clark adviced softly.

“I know that, but what… what can I do now? What if he snaps when he’s in school or takes the opportunity to run off? You and I know well that if the League considers him a danger I can’t vouch for him any longer, and I don’t trust Ra’s Al Ghul to not come looking for his grandson. Even worse, when others start realising he’s different, he’ll be a target for many other—“

Clark held Bruce’s shoulders and shook him gently to snap him out of his spiralling.

“I know, just… breathe. That’s it…” he waited until he’d calmed down before he let him go. “Ok so, um, I think we can actually work with this. Damian needs an escort both for his safety and everyone else’s, right?”

Bruce squinted his eyes at him as he let himself fall onto the couch.

“What are you suggesting?”

“Well, Jon’s a couple years younger but fortunately for both of us, he is half kryptonian and could keep an eye on him” He sat down next to him and pat his shoulder “Who knows, maybe he can be a good influence”

For a long moment the billionare stared at him as if he had grown another head. Was he seriously suggesting they let a twelve year old boy supervise Damian? Sure, he was near invincible, but he wasn’t prepared to deal with that of all things.

“Clark— Jon is a good kid, he’s making good progress and all but…”

“…But you think it’s not enough” Clark finished.

“No! No, it’s…” Bruce pursed his lips “Damian is a fully trained assassin, I know he’s just fifteen and he looks innocent and harmless even with the whole… pit thing, but he can and he has killed people. I trained my kids as best as I could and still he bested both Tim and Steph, if it wasn’t for Cass and Dick he would’ve done much worse than just break Tim’s arm. I don’t think even Superboy or Supernova would be safe from him” He stood up again to pace around the study, although there was a defeated air to his desperation this time. “You don’t understand, Clark, I— I didn’t know he had snuck out, I never realised he went into the cave and took Jason’s suit! It was Oracle who told me over two hours later… It was a warning, I told him he couldn’t have Robin so he showed me what he’s willing to do if I don’t give him what he wants”

The more Bruce talked it became evident that he was terrified, he had been Batman and he had thought he was prepared to take in his biological son, only to be slapped in the face with the fact that he was no longer on top of the field… Batman died ten years ago with Robin, and time had kept running for everyone else. They all got better while he chose to ignore all about that world, and whoever had trained Damian had done a damn good job at it.

And he— he hated it. He hated that he could do nothing to fix this situation and that he was scared of his own son. But… god, he was even more afraid of losing another child.

“I think you need some rest” Clark sighed and stood up “I’ll call Lois to let her know I’ll stay and… and we can solve this in the morning”

Breakfast was more akin to a funeral by the time Bruce and Clark made it downstairs, and it was only just after they sat down that Alfred came into the dining room with a serious expression.

“Master Bruce, I believe it’s important that you should know there was a package just delivered for young master Damian”

Bruce paled and at the other side of the table Duke’s head sprung up from the table.

“Did you give it to him?”

“I did, and I made sure the security feed in his room was available” he nodded, offering a tablet to him.

Dick stood up from his seat and ran to stand behind his chair as Clark leaned over his other shoulder, leaving the rest of the kids to pile up behind them.

On the screen, Damian sat cross leged on his bed, staring intently at the small box without moving as if analysing it. They waited for around a minute and were about to give up when he grabbed it and sliced off the tape with a small blade he’d pulled from his sleeve -Dick visibly suddered, he had registered all his clothes personally and thought there was no weapons-. Inside there was a note that he unfolded and read through quickly before he tossed it aside and jumped to get a burner phone out of the box, turning it on and scrolling through it.

The expectating silence in the dining room was heavy and overwhelming as they saw him await for a call to be answered, and then suddenly a voice came out of it, quickly made audible to them when Bruce adjusted the settings.

“-mian?”

The boy’s eyes widened and he held the phone tightly.

“Why didn’t you call?” he snapped then, speaking just as rudely to this person as he had to everyone else.

“… I’m sorry, I had to make sure I was out of sight” the man’s voice was young, but distorted through a voice modulator. “Are you alright? Was your father too big of a jerk?”

“He’s not my father” Damian answered automatically with anger “and I don’t want to stay”

There was a small sigh at the other end.

“We talked about this before, you know that”

“I hate it here”

“You’ve been there for two months, you have to give it time”

“I don’t want time, I want to go home”

As they spoke each their voices was raised in a frighteningly identical temper.

“Damian you don’t have a home anymore” the man snapped, harsh and brutal “So you’ll stay there like it or not”

There was a long tense silence in which the teen didn’t move, staring at the wall opposite to the bed.

“Why did you send this?” his tone was blank as he spoke “Why are you doing this if you’re going to abandon me forever?”

“What— no, that’s not it” the man audibly fumbled as he slipped and a bit of an accent shone through; american. It was gone the next second “I don’t want to do that”

“You’re a liar… you got rid of me the first chance you had, you’re never coming back to get me because you’re sick of me”

“That’s not how it works“

“Then explain it!” he screamed, standing up and throwing a textbook against the wall “You just do shit expecting me to not make any questions! I’m not a child anymore! I know how to make choices!”

“Yes you are! Are you even listening to yourself? You ARE a fucking child, you’re fifteen years old and you have no idea of how the world works! Do you think I can just— keep you? Your mother ain’t no saint and we both know that, she would get rid of me the moment I was no longer useful! What the fuck am I supposed to do to keep the Demon’s Head off our backs just so we can play house and pretend we’re normal people!? All your damn biological family has enough power to take you back in less time it takes you to blink! Hell, even your adoptive brothers have more rights than I do even if I raised you, why can’t you understand that I don’t have a choice!?”

Bruce didn’t know what to feel as he saw his son quietly sit on his bed, silent tears rolling down his cheeks while he held the phone to his ear. It was such a defeated silence from the both of them and he— he hated that he knew what the man at the other end of the line felt.

“…. B-Baba, I want to go home”

Even through the voice modulator the small intake of breath was heard.

“… I know, habibi” Damian let out a chocked noise and his shoulders started shaking “I wanna go home too”

Damian woke up late on sunday after crying himself to exhaustion. On his bedside table the burner phone was charging and a tray of cold food sat right next to it. The door was left open as a silent indication that he was no longer on house arrest, but he made no move to get out of bed just yet. At the end of the day he hadn’t truly gained anything at all… baba didn’t hate him, baba wanted him, but… he couldn’t come for him. From now on he was stuck with the Waynes until his mother decided otherwise, or until his grandfather decided Damian’s time was over. He knew baba would never come back to Gotham… he was too hurt. The Waynes had hurt him too much.

Batman had failed baba but… what if Damian could fix it? What if he could finally clean up the mess and get vengeance in his name? He slowly sat up and looked at the other side of the room where the old Robin suit had been thrown— it had been picked back up while he slept and likely carried back to the cave. That was fine, he would take it back, and then Robin would hunt a clown.

“Damian?” Wayne stood at the door, looking hesitant. “Can we talk?”

His first instinct was to say no. He had locked him up like an animal and likely looked at him through cameras— he hadn’t bothered to look for any to dismantle because he knew it was pointless.

“…” He nodded.

The man took a deep breath and pulled a chair to sit in front of him, fortunately at a safe distance.

“Did you sleep well?”

Damian glared and he winced.

“Yes, sorry about that… We had to make sure you wouldn’t hurt the others or yourself”

“…”

“… Right. I’m going straight to the point, ok? I need you to be as honest as you’re willing. Had you ever experienced an episode like that?”

Damian scoffed and Wayne sighed.

“Do you know why you snapped?”

“Of course I know, I’m not an idiot” he finally replied full of snark “I was awake when I was dipped in the pit all three times”

Damian didn’t suffer from the madness of the pit. In a way, mother and baba suspected he was almost immune to it now. Baba had only been put inside once and he’d become dangerous enough but Damian… well, he was special. He was made by hand, every trait and every little piece carefully selected to carve out the ideal statue, the perfect heir… the perfect vessel. Damian had a use and so he needed to be strong, perfected to the last detail. Baba had only been allowed to stay because he could help him and teach him control.

“Do I have any reason to suspect it’ll happen again?” Wayne looked pale, queasy. So he couldn’t even stomach the thought of everything Damian had lived, after all.

“…. No. Not if you give me what I want”

“I can’t let you be Robin” Wayne refused “I can’t fail another kid like that”

Damian opened his mouth to say something cruel and then stopped.

“What?”

The man sighed and lowered his head, looking exhausted and way older than he normally did.

“When… When Dick became Nightwing, I adoped another son. His name was— Jason. Jason Todd. He was very bright, with an excellent potential, and I… I failed him. The Joker killed him, and after that I promised myself there would be no more Batman and Robin again”

That— that couldn’t be right. Mother had said nothing changed!

“Drake?” he asked.

“Tim tried convincing me and Dick that Gotham needed Robin, but I refused. He only started being Spectre a couple years ago”

“But….”

“I can’t stop them from going out there, but I don’t want them, don’t want you to be in danger”

But baba…

“Why not kill the Joker? Why let him live?”

“I know things for you are very different, but I don’t kill. It’s… I almost wanted to” he quickly blinked to keep tears at bay “but if I did, I would taint everything that Jason died for”

Baba didn’t need a legacy, he wanted to say. He just wanted his dad to love him and miss him, he wanted his family to notice he was gone… and they never did. Even now they hadn’t bothered to check his empty grave?

“Damian, this is the one thing I can’t give you, so I need you to promise you won’t try to steal my dead son’s suit again. Can you do that?”

…Ok.

I’m sorry baba, I promise I will be careful and follow everything you taught me. I know you will be very mad but if Wayne can’t do this then it has to be me— it’s the least I can do. Call me back when you see the news, but remember I’m being watched.

Damian sent the voicemail and put down his burner phone with the screen down right next to the keyboard, taking a deep breath. The school’s library was nearly empty and his chosen corner offered no room for anyone to sneak up behind him without him noticing, keeping the screen of the computer concealed. He cliked the bright blue button and waited for the slow internet to load.

Seventeen pictures, all badly taken and blurry but still unmistakably the Robin that had been missing for ten years, were posted for the world to see.

#batfam #batman #bruce wayne #damian wayne #jason todd #no batman au #angst #family feels #angst with a happy ending #damian’s whole thing with the pit isn’t actually relevant to this fic #so i won’t go in depth with it but yeah there’s more to it #this chapter is also rushed on purpose to emphasise how quickly it all went down #guess who’s also about to make a comeback?#;)

24 notes · View notes