#batfamily

Synopsis : Bruce arrives just in time to save you from a situation that is a little too close from home for him…

That scene, in The Batman, where he looks at the mayor’s son and just stares for a bit for obvious reason…It stuck with me. And I got the idea of writing this, Bruce making sure what happened to him never happens again. Also, maybe I wanted to write Battinson interacting with a toddler…Hope you’ll like it. Comments and other reblogs always super welcomed and appreciated <3 : 

My masterlists :@ella-ravenwood-archives

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In retrospect, you think it might be fate, who brought you together that night. 

What were the chances that he’d be there, at that exact moment ? 

He often said it himself, he couldn’t be everywhere. And yet…

He found you that night. Both of you. 

How could you not believe in some kind of destiny, after all these years and what you went through ? 

Yes. It’s been years since that night, and it’s an evidence to you. 

It’s fate, that took Bruce’s steps towards you. Fate that guided him, that made it so he would make it just in time to save you and your son…

Ah. It’s funny, now. “Your son”. His, too. Who would’ve thought, all those years ago, that your “little buddy” would become the most amazing older brother that ever existed ? Certainly not you. You were so sure, at that time, that you would only ever have one child. 

And look at you now. Surrounded by family on that clear evening, eating dinner all together. All because once upon a time, on a terrible night, your path crossed the Batman’s…

Oh. How very different it would’ve been, if fate had decided to never do its little tricks. 

************

Ten years ago

There’s some days, you just have no idea how you made it this far. 

Some days, you’re not sure you can keep going. 

Some days you feel like it’d be oh too easy to just let it all go. 

But you can’t give up. If you were alone, maybe. But you’re not. You have your little buddy to take care of. And you could never forgive yourself if you let him down. You didn’t care what happened to you, as long as he was fine. 

Nonetheless, it was tough, to be a single mother in Gotham. To be honest, it was tough to be a single mother everywhere in the world. But Gotham ? Gotham had its way of making everything worst. 

You could live with the constant judgement everyone was throwing your way. People judging you without knowing your story wasn’t anything new. But you had to admit, sometimes, it got old. 

It’s almost funny, how a life can take a radical turn in but a few moment…

One day, you’re painting the nursery of your future child, happy, in love, ready to welcome this little life in the world. 

The next, someone calls you to say : “There’s been an accident”, and all your dreams chatter. 

Your fiancé was working for a building company, and lately had been on a worksite at “The Ice Lounge”. You didn’t like the idea of him working there. Everyone knew what this place really was full of…But the money was good. And with a baby on the way ? Yeah, of course he’d take the job. 

“Work accident” they said, giving you a modest compensation thanks to the “Renewal plan” (was this really what the money was supposed to be used on ?). And just like that, in a few seconds, your fiancé was forever gone. It took you a while to even process what was being said to you through the phone. 

Couldn’t someone at least come tell you the news in person ? 

Apparently not. 

You were given no other infos. You did receive a condolences card from the owner of the place, a certain “Oswald Cobblepot”. Although you’re not really sure he even signed it. You heard the rumors about the man… 

You didn’t believe one bit he died because of a “work accident”, but in Gotham ? Nobody cared about the truth. Police were in those people’s pocket, as if they were going to search for foul play. 

At the end of the day, the result was the same. If anyone was guilty of his death, they wouldn’t have gone behind bars anyway. Everyone knew how the mafia worked, around Gotham. It was a well known “secret”, for those living in those streets. They would’ve found a scapegoat, and you knew your fiancé would’ve hated that. You would too, an innocent person in prison…No. 

It didn’t mean that it was easy to accept. But living in Gotham meant you had to live with certain things. And to be honest, once you ended up all alone with a baby on the way, you had to take your responsibilities quickly. 

You unfortunately didn’t have time to chase after the truth. But you would, one day, you would. 

For now, you had to work two jobs to stay afloat, and that’s how you ended up here. Late at night. Going home with your baby in your arms. 

Well. Baby. He wasn’t really a baby anymore, he would turn three in just a few months. Damn. Three years old already ? Wow. How time flies. Especially when your days are a succession of long working hours and trying to survive. 

But you didn’t have a choice. As a single mother, you were near the bottom of the food chain in Gotham, and you had to fight. For him. 

Because he deserved better. He deserved the world. You would do anything to give him a decent childhood. Unfortunately, it meant that sometimes, you had to take tough decisions.

Like tonight. 

************

You knew bringing your two year old son to work that night, was a bad idea. But what could you do ? You couldn’t miss work, you needed the money. And you were certainly not going to leave your son alone because no one was available.

So you brought him with you.

He fell asleep in the back room, in a little makeshift bed your coworkers made for him…They absolutely adored your boy. And you understood them. Maybe it’s because he felt how hard you had it, but (Son’s name) had always been a calm child. He didn’t cry often, he quickly slept through nights…A blessing, really, given how hectic your life was. 

Your night job was in a bar. Your shift ran from 7pm to 3 am. Fortunately, the bar you were working in was a “nice one”. One of those “local street” bar with only people from the neighborhood. Hell, you even served coffee…Ah, but there were many insomniacs, down in Gotham City (you were sure it was fate too, which, years later, made it so that this place you used to work at became your son Tim’s favorite place to get late night coffees during his vigilante shifts). 

It was late. It was raining. And you were finally going home, with your little sleeping buddy in your arms. The weather was good, when you left for work, so you did not have an umbrella. You were pretty much soaked. Which didn’t matter, as long as your baby was dry and warm, and safe. Wrapped in your coat against your chest, only his little face was peeking out. He was fast asleep, and the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. 

And you’ve never felt so scared of going home late at night than now.

When you were alone, it was ok. You knew Gotham. You knew the streets to take to get home quick, and to avoid trouble. Sure, you were mugged a few times, but it was never ever really bad because honestly, you didn’t have much to give. And most thugs being out that late were just that, street thugs who didn’t really look for huge trouble. 

But right now, with your son in your arms ? You had a bad feeling. 

A feeling creeping from your toes to your head. As if you were followed. As if something was lurking out there.  

And…you were right. As you turned down a back alley where there usually were nobody, someone got in front of you. By instinct, you took a step back. 

Damn. Now, he was going to know you were afraid. 

************

The man came out of nowhere. 

And instantly, all your sense were on high alert. 

A group of thugs was less dangerous than a man lone, in Gotham. 

Because someone deciding to attack on his own ? It was someone who didn’t have much to loose. Someone who wouldn’t be too happy with the barely twenty bucks in your wallet…

He stood right in your way, blocking it. 

“Your wallet, lady. And that ring, too.” 

No. Not the ring. It was the only thing you had left of your fiancé…And you did such a good job hiding it too. You had taken it off of your fingers a while ago, putting it around your neck keeping it safe against your heart. 

But it seemed as if your son, as he fell asleep, took hold of it and was holding onto the necklace…

You did not want to give that man your ring. But with your baby in your arm, you weren’t about to risk it. The story of one of the most famous and powerful couple in town came back to your head, in that moment…If Thomas and Martha Wayne could get shot in the streets, just like that, then a nobody like you definitely could too. 

“Ok. Just give me a second, ok ?” 

This wasn’t good. The man looked nervous, looking all around. You knew what he was looking for. Or rather, who. His looks up and towards the darkest areas of the streets told you everything. And oh man, if only The Batman was around right now…

“Buddy, hey, you have to wake up.” 

You didn’t want him to see this. You didn’t want him to live this. What, not even three years old and already his first time getting mugged ? This wasn’t right. 

This wasn’t the life you wanted for him. He should’ve never been there. If only you had enough money to pay for a sitter…

He wakes up, and as usual, he’s an adorable little bundle right after sleep. He rarely cried, when you woke him up for whatever reason. Deep down, you think it’s because he’s already aware of the struggles you’re going through. You know it’s ridiculous, he’s just two. Yet it feels so many times he makes your life better…

“Mama.” 

“Yes, yes don’t worry buddy. I’ll put you on the ground for a second, ok ?” 

He nods and yawns sleepily. He didn’t notice the man in front of you, yet. Everything is alright. Everything is good. You’re handling this. You put him on the ground gently, as you need both your hands to reach for your wallet, which is hidden in an inner pocket of your jacket (can’t be too safe in Gotham). 

He’s still wrapped in your coat, coat which drags on the floor as your son’s legs are just too short…

“Mama.”

Worry in his voice. Of course, he would notice the scary man in front of him. He hid behind your leg, holding your pant tightly, your coat slips off of him, and by instinct you try to put it back on him when-

“HURRY UP LADY !” 

A gun. Was it there since the start ? You don’t know, but it’s there now. In his hand. Pointed at you. 

This was bad. The man was too nervous, he could snap any seconds. You knew this, you’ve lived in those streets long enough to recognize desperate people. You raise your hands, and say : 

“Ok here, here just take everything.” 

You quickly take your wallet, and your ring from around your neck, and hand it to him. 

“Empty your pocket, you must have more !” 

“Sir, I’m sorry but I don’t, I-”

“DON’T LIE TO ME BITCH ! WHAT YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW YOU’RE HIDING SOMETHING ?”

He grabs you by the shirt, you hear your son scream, you don’t mean to but…you fight back. It’s a visceral reaction. You’re so scared for your son, as that gun faces downward towards him, that you fight back. You grab his arm and-

BANG. 

That was a shot, right ? You looked down at your son, thanks god, he wasn’t touched. But he was looking at you with wide eyes. And you felt like you were slowly falling downward. 

Oh. Oh you felt, a little light headed. 

“Mama ?” 

Why couldn’t you feel his hands anymore ? And why everything was so wet ? It takes you a few seconds to realize you fell on the floor. 

“MAMA !!” 

No. No. You can’t speak. You wish you could scream. You can’t leave him all alone against that man, you can’t let him get hurt. You try to move, but you can’t. Your can hear (Son’s name) crying now, and the man panicking and then-

SWOOSH.

Swoosh ? That was a weird sound. 

You turn your head, and- oh. That’s him. 

At least, your son will be safe. And that’s all that matters. 

Honestly. What were the odds of him being around here, right now ? It’s almost as if fate brought him there, to save you. You feel your son’s little hands holding your jeans tight, crying, and you really want to stand up, take him in your arms and run, but your strengths are leaving you…

************

FUCK !! Will he ever be on time ?? First his parents, then Alfred, and now-

He did not know you. But he knew this situation all too well. This was probably the most triggered he’ve ever been. 

Never again. He promised himself. Never again. 

Your son’s cry almost gives him a panic attack. He almost freezes on the spot, seeing the scene unfolds in front of him. In just a few seconds everything goes to Hell, there’s a shot…

It wakes him up. It wakes Bruce up. 

He has to act. This is why he became the Batman. This is why he became the Batman ! He jumps from the balcony he was standing on, and drops on the man heavily. 

He sees you fall, and the little child (he’s not sure if it’s a boy or a girl, wrapped in that coat like that) shaking you. 

And he sees red. 

He barely stops himself before he kills that man with his violent punches. Never before has he felt so angry, and close to killing. It’s just-

He’ve seen all this before. 

He had been that little boy, on his knees, shaking his parents for them to wake up.

“ ’ake up mama ! ‘Ake up !”

The man is taken care of quickly. His gun is utterly destroyed by Bruce, who makes sure it will never be able to shoot another bullet. And then he runs to you. Your eyes flutter, but do not open. It seems like you feel his presence because you whisper : 

“My son…”

You were hurt. Badly. Yet your first thoughts were for your son. 

A painful reminder to Bruce. He knew his parents’ last thoughts were for him, for his safety. He didn’t have a child, and to be honest, didn’t think he would ever have children (oh the irony) with the kind of life he was living. Yet he felt what you were feeling. 

He remembered his mom’s terrified eyes as she took her last breath. His dad trying to say “Bruce” and “Martha”. The fact they were in this alley because of him…

It’s a love so deep you can’t seem to fully understand it up until you lose it. 

And right now, Bruce wasn’t ready to let another child live through this. Especially not as young as that little one seemed to be. 

The boy couldn’t stop crying, clinging to his mom and screaming in distress. The kind of cry where you can’t even breathe properly. He coughed, and started to hyperventilate, unable to process all those strong emotions…

He couldn’t be more than three years old. No kid should ever witness something like that. 

Bruce was still holding your hand. Tightly. But he had to act. Fast. 

Because right now, he knew your life was on the line. He could still feel your heartbeat. He would save you. He would ! Never again will he let a child witness their parents be murdered in front of him. At least, not in Gotham. 

************

He had to take you out of this alley. Without thinking much about it, he took you in his arms…And your son hit him. 

“Leave mama !” 

Bruce realized that he probably didn’t even see him fight the man who shot his mom, and, ah, what a brave little boy. He was soaked to the bones, shivering in the cold night, and his mom just got hurt, and yet here he was, kicking probably the scariest man he ever saw. 

There were very few instances, in which Bruce regretted he chose such an intimidating costume. But right now, faced with that little boy who was head bent on protecting his mother, he wished he chose something a little more colorful. He noticed the Spider-Man backpack the little one had…

“I’m going to help your mama, ok ? Help ?” 

Your son was young, but not stupid. He didn’t seem to believe Bruce at first, which was understandable. But then Bruce took a lollipop from his utility belt (even now, years later, he still had candies in said utility belt…not many people knew Bruce had a sweet tooth, and then of course with the kids, it became a habit, oh how many times they emptied his “candy pocket” in one evening), and gave it to him. 

Your kid was like most kids. If someone gave them candies ? It meant they were nice…He was still too young to understand this was actually something to be weary of. Fortunately, in this instance, it wasn’t. 

Bruce took you in his arm, and got your son to jump on his back. 

“Hold on.” 

“Mm.” the little one nodded, and Bruce took off running. The Batmobile wasn’t far, and he had to hurry.

************

The people at the hospital weren’t shocked to have someone come in with a gunshot wound. To see the Batman though, with a kid holding onto his back ? That was new. 

The police was called, and you were sent to the an emergency surgery. Your son whined a little, when you were taken away, calling you. But somehow, Bruce managed to calm him down. 

Your son wasn’t “wild”. He trusted people easily. Too easily, in your opinion. You often worried about it. But right now ? It was a blessing, as he seemed to understand that the doctors where going to take care of his “mama”, and just sat there in silence, on The Batman’s lap. 

That was quite an odd image. 

************

The sun was rising, and Bruce wasn’t sure what to do. 

He couldn’t leave him here, all alone. And the police still hadn’t shown up. And so he just sat there, in his Batman costume, in the hospital, with everyone staring at him.

He heard them whisper, and none of them even hid the fact they were talking about him and the child. It was uncomfortable. He hated when people looked at him. Even under the protection of his costume. 

Ever since his parents passed away, he had a hard time standing people’s gaze on him. When they died, everyone kept looking at him. They whispered wherever he went. And they stared, stared and stared again. 

He hated, when people looked at him like that. 

Finally, Jim Gordon showed up, apologizing. Apparently, it been quite a night out there. Bruce knew. Before saving you, he already took care of quite a lot of affairs. 

He didn’t even realized, but he didn’t feel any guilt about missing a few hours of the night patrolling. His entire mind was focused on that little boy in his lap, and his mother still in surgery. 

His entire mind was plagued by a question : “what if you didn’t make it ?”. He didn’t think he could handle it. So, what if he skipped three hours of patrol ? This was important. 

He told what happened to Gordon, and the detective nodded saying they found the man responsible for the shooting. He was also in this hospital, The Batman did not held his punches… 

Jim then turned to the little boy in his arms. Your son didn’t fall back asleep (maybe it was the sugar in the candies Bruce kept giving him ?), and was looking at Gordon suspiciously. 

He screamed his lung out when the detective tried to take him from Bruce’s arms, writhing and kicking and crying and yelling “no no no”, clinging to Bruce as if his life depended on it, and the Batman didn’t have the heart to let the little one go. He was reminisced of himself, years ago, refusing to let go of Alfred for hours on end after he came back from the police station and the butler came to fetch him…How could he let go ?

He couldn’t. And so he stayed, and held onto that young child who wasn’t an orphan yet, but could very well be at any instant, if you didn’t make it…

************

His clothes were soaked, poor little thing. And he was shaking a little bit. Naturally, Bruce just wrapped him in his cape. Glad he put some “thermopads” in them (thanks to Alfred really, who was starting to be tired of treating his cold when he spend nights out and it was cold. He just had to wrap himself in his cape and…done).

Gordon was looking at the two of them, probably wondering how the Hell did the Batman got himself in that situation. They had lived a lot of things together, over the past two years, but never this. 

“What’s your name ?” the detective asked, and the boy just hid in Batman’s cape, peeking out of it sometimes to see if he was still looking at him, and then hiding again. 

“You’re scaring him.” Bruce says. 

The irony of the matter didn’t escape any of them. What, Jim Gordon, probably one of the only honest policeman in Gotham, scared that little boy, and a man wearing a bat costume and being purposefully intimidating didn’t ?

There was comedy, in this. 

Bruce pulled his cape a little, looked at the boy and asked : 

“What’s your name?”

The little boy looked at him for a few seconds, and Bruce wondered if he understood. How old was that kid ? Two or three ? Didn’t children speak already at that time ? Man he wished he could call Alfred right now.

Finally, your son, after pondering whether that weird man wearing a bat costume was trustworthy (because yes; he did understand the question), said :

“(Son’s name)" 

Bruce’s first thought was that that name fit him. And his second thought was that his voice was adorable. When was the last time he thought this kind of thing ? He realized, never. Interaction with kids weren’t really his forte. They either quivered in fear, or asked too many question.

But here he was.

That little kid, just looking at him curiously, calm and…collected ? At least for a child that young, who was in a stranger’s arm, and who’s mom was nowhere to be seen. Bruce wondered if that little one understood what was going on…

No. No your son wasn’t really sure of what was happening. But there was one thing he knew, and that Bruce couldn’t know.

Bruce couldn’t know what was going on in that little head of his. Your son was only two, almost three. But he understood that Bruce did a good thing for him and you. He understood that this man saved his mama. Kids in Gotham grew up faster than anywhere else, because of the violence they always witnessed. So someone fighting "the bad guys” ? Instant trust.

“Your name ?” 

He asked, and Bruce answered : 

“V-Batman.” 

Your son smiled widely, making everyone’s heart melt, and repeated : 

“Man-Man !”

“No no. Bat-man.”

Unable to hear where he pronounced it wrong, the boy repeated : 

“…Man-Man !”

“Bat, repeat after me. Baaat.”

“Baaat.”

“Man.”

“Man !”

“Batman.”

“Man-Man !”

Bruce heard himself chuckle. Wh-What ? When was the last time he laughed ? 

He couldn’t even remember. 

************

Time went by so slowly. And there was still no news about your condition. 

Bruce was still waiting, still in his Batman costume. (Son’s name) was finally fast asleep, clutching one of his finger tight. It was…adorable. Bruce couldn’t describe the feeling he felt, holding this child, wrapped in his cape, holding his finger. 

It was an odd feeling.

Finally, news arrived. Good news. 

You were in an artificial coma right now, but they said you were out of danger. You just needed a lot of rest, and to stay in the hospital for a while. 

The “problem” of your son came quickly. The hospital said that the little boy would be able to stay with you, but only in a few days, once you’d leave intensive care. Someone to take care of him had to be found. 

“What is going to happen to him ?” 

He asked to Jim Gordon, as your son was still asleep in his arms. 

“Well, social services will probably-”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no ?”

“He’s going to be scared. I know how social services work, they tried to take me away from-” 

Wow. Two years of making sure Bruce Wayne couldn’t be assimilated to Batman, and he almost said : “they tried to take me away from Alfred once”. Wow. He knew his emotions were in shambles. This case really was too close from home. 

If Jim Gordon noticed anything, he didn’t say it. He just continued : 

“It’s our only option. Unless someone is willing to take him in. I would gladly do so, but it’d unfortunately be a conflict of interest as I’m assigned to his case. And there’s procedures, the person would have to prove they’re fit to take care of him.” 

“Anyone could take better care of him than social services…” 

“Maybe, but it’s the only option we have right now. You’re going to have to leave him.” 

Leave him ? No…

Bruce didn’t dare to even speak to the mayor’s son when he had the occasion to. So now…It felt personal.

This all thing.

It felt like he had to act.

Batman left, leaving the sleeping boy in the care of Jim Gordon. But Bruce Wayne ? 

************

Alfred was still in the hospital, and it ended up being a blessing. Another thing that makes you strongly believe all of that happened for a reason, that it was destiny that brought you all together. 

Because Alfred still being bedridden in that same hospital Bruce took you to ? It meant that Bruce Wayne had a reason to be there. 

And that’s how he made an appearance as his “real” self, and oh, what a coincidence, encountered the social workers who were currently taking care of (son’s name). 

The poor little fella seemed greatly distressed. The only person he gave his trust to, the Batman, left while he was sleeping, and he woke up surrounded by people who asked him too many questions. 

The social workers didn’t ask Bruce many questions. They knew who he was. They were surprisingly easy to convince (the truth was, they wanted to end this as quickly as possible, and move on, and honesty, who would blame them to give responsibilities to a literal billionaire ? He could always just hire people to take care of him). 

In just a few minutes, (son’s name) was in Bruce Wayne’s custody for the next few days. Oddly enough, the little boy didn’t fuss when Bruce took him in his arms, and Bruce had a suspicion that the kid recognized him. 

But it wasn’t possible, right ? He was only two, how could he recognize him when he was masked, changed his voice etc ? 

Your son didn’t recognize him. But he felt oddly at ease, in his arms. Reminded of another person’s arm, the man who saved you…So he went with it. He’ve always been a sweet and calm child. 

************

“Alfred.”

“Yes my boy ?” 

“Where are um-…Where are my kid’s clothes ?” 

“Your what now ?” 

“You know, the clothes I used to wear as a kid. I know you didn’t throw them away. Where did you put them ?” 

There was a silence. Before Alfred finally said : 

“Why on Earth would you need children’s clothes ?” 

There was worries in the butler’s voice, and for reasons. What was his young master’s latest fad now ?? 

“There’s this boy. Um. His mother. She got shot.” 

Oh. Oooh. Oooooh. Wait, what ?

“A…boy ?” 

“Yes. I said I would take care of him for a few days.” 

Another silence. If Alfred wasn’t still badly injured, he would’ve stand up and shake his master. 

“I’m sorry, are you out of your mind ?? You ? With a child ? All alone ??” 

As far as he could remember, Bruce hadn’t seen Alfred freak out as much as right now. 

“I couldn’t leave him Alfred. I couldn’t.” 

Pinching his nose (a gesture that Bruce will mimic a lot in the future, whenever his children would do something that genuinely would give him headaches), Alfred sighed and said : 

“Where is he ?” 

“Waiting with the nurses.” 

“Well bring him in.”

Bruce went to fetch (son’s name). As if it was the most natural thing in the world, the little boy climbed on Alfred’s bed (with a little help from Bruce) and sat there, calmly. 

He exchanged a look with Alfred, and something in the butler’s face made him smile and say : 

“Hewwoooo.” 

“Well hello there young man.” 

“You have booboo ?”

“Yes. Yes I do.”

“Mama do too.”

“Your mama is hurt ?” 

The boy nods, and then say : “But ish okay.” 

“It is ?” 

He nods again, and adds : “Man-Man save her.” 

Alfred turns to Bruce, who shrugs and aaah. Of course. “Man-Man”. Everything made sense, now. Why did his master want to take care of this child. 

Of course.  

************

The least that we can say, is that things definitely got out of hand a lot of time. Bruce had never taken care of a child (crazy that people thought, just because he was extremely rich, he was fit to take care of him). He called Alfred one too many time.

The poor butler, stuck in his hospital bed, was literally pulling his hair because of the worry (an explanation to his premature baldness ?). 

“What do you mean you gave him ice cream for dinner ?? That is not appropriate Master Bruce !” 

“He’s two years old, of course he has to go to bed before midnight !” 

“*sighs* Can you repeat please ? You let him do what with our highly priced and precious collection of Fabergé eggs ?”

“Master Bruce, please, by real food and stop giving him candy. This is why he doesn’t want to take a nap, he’s high on sugar.”

“He does need to wear pants, yes.”

“Master Bruce, with all due respect, that “wallpaper” was a five hundred years old tapisserie from England, and yes I’m a little mad you let him paint on it. It was a relic from the Queen herself that she gifted to your grandfather !” 

“NO A CHILD DOES NOT NEED A MILLION DOLLAR WHAT WOULD HE DO WITH IT ANYWAY ??”  

Bruce had people babysit him at night, pretending he had “things to do” and honestly ? Nobody questioned it. Everyone knew Bruce Wayne was a little odd. He even heard one of the caretaker whispering something about him being the master of a “sex dungeon”…Good, people were miles away from suspecting he was the Batman. 

Having that many people home though made him uncomfortable. It was a painful reminder of when his house was full of help, during his parents’ time, and how so many of them tried to sell pictures of a crying Bruce right after their death…Alfred fired all of them. 

But he couldn’t leave (son’s name) alone at night. However, one evening, as it was time for (son’s name) to go to bed, Bruce heard him whimper. It wasn’t a full on cry, just a sob, barely noticeable. 

“Mama…” 

He was calling for you. And Bruce didn’t have the heart to leave him alone. For the first time in two years, he took a night off. The Batsignal wasn’t shining anyway. And he stayed with that lost little boy, who was calling for his mom and who reminded him of himself…He was such a brave child. 

Bruce never thought he would one day console a crying kid. Hold him in his arm until he was asleep. Stay to make sure he was ok. He felt…Was this how Alfred feel when he stayed entire nights in Bruce’s room to wake him up if he had a nightmare ? 

*************

(Son’s name) only stayed with Bruce for three days, but it meant something for him. Never before had an experience change him so much…Well, if you don’t talk about his parents dying right in front of his eyes of course (yes, I think I’m funny). 

The boy was curious, eager to learn, sweet, a little stubborn, and he did have one massive tantrum (over the silliest of things : he really didn’t want to wear pants and only hang out in his PJ) but just like any kid, really ? 

Bruce was really impressed by how your son handled this entire situation. Being thrown into a stranger’s house, surrounded by strange things…Of course, being so young, your son didn’t always realize what was going on. And thanks god children don’t really have any notion of time, because he always would be satisfy with “tomorrow” as an answer to him asking “when will I see mama ?”. 

************

You woke up in a panic. But were quickly reassured that your son was alright, and taken care of. By instinct, you went for the ring around your neck, forgetting that you had given it to the ma- No. It was there. 

Who put it back around your neck ? The Batman ? 

It didn’t sound like something he’d do, right ? Yet…The ring was back around your neck. And someone put it there. Nobody else but the Batman and your son were in the alley that night. So…

You had to remember to thank that Batman one day, if you ever saw him again. 

************

Four days later, you were able to receive visitations. And of course, the first person was your son. And…Bruce Wayne ?? 

Nobody even told you HE was the one taking care of your child. What the fuck. This was..unexpected. How did that even happen ?? You would only truly understand that years later, when you’ll find out he’s The Batman. For now, it was really strange, and nobody seemed to really know how and why Bruce Wayne was here. 

To be fair, everyone assumed it was all a coincidence. That Bruce came to see Alfred, and heard the story of that little boy, that reminded him of his own story and…it made sense for everyone. And it was partly the truth. Yes; the entire thing was close from home for him. 

And it did make sense he would decide to help a boy going through the same kind of experience he did (except, thanks the gods, you survived). 

First thing first, you hugged your boy. Tightly. And then… :

“What the hell are you wearing ?” you said, as you looked him up and down. Was that a..SUIT ?!

“Um, sorry. I didn’t have much clothes left from where I was a child. Only…tuxedos and polos, apparently.” 

You were feeling much better now, after a few days of rest. Turned out, the shot you received went right through you, and didn’t touch any important organs. How lucky. 

And here your son was. With Bruce Wayne. Wearing a “tuxedo for children”. This was all too much. Too strange. You burst out in laughter, unable to stop yourself even though each laugh hurt. 

Your son quickly followed, with his cute little laugh. Him too, was unable to stop. 

And before he realized it, Bruce too, was laughing. Like he hadn’t in years. The nurses even had to come in and tell you to keep it down because all three of you couldn’t stop laughing…which only enhanced your laughter. 

It took you ages to finally stop. 

************

Fate. Fate reunited the three of you together. You were sure of it. How else could you explain what happened next ? 

************

After Bruce left the hospital, saying his “good byes” to (son’s name) (who cried, and it was heart wrenching), Bruce felt oddly empty. Like he was making a mistake, leaving you two behind without another word. It’s as if destiny was telling him to go back. To ask for your number. To come back later to ask for news. But to not just turn the page on this chapter. 

He should move on. He saved you. Made sure your son still had his mom. His mission was over, his goal to never let happen what happened to him again was over. Yet he felt like he had to go see you again. Like if he didn’t, he would forever regret it…

Why couldn’t he take you out of his mind ? And (son’s name) ? Why ? 

And you ? Why couldn’t you stop thinking about this Bruce Wayne guy ? You didn’t even know him, yet it felt like you did. Things clicked between you, you felt it. And even better, things clicked between him and your son. Clearly, those two were meant to get along. 

************

It took a long time, before you and Bruce started to date.

You still had some healing to do. Both physical and mental. And he still had a lot of issues to resolve. Ah, that could be a story in its own, really, how you came to finally be together (A/N : yes you guessed it, I’mma write it…this one was just getting too long to put it here haha).

Funny enough, it’s your son, who opened his heart to Bruce first. You don’t know what happened between the two, but obviously, the few days they spend together had straighten a bond that will never break.

Bruce already felt, deep in his heart, that (Son’s name) changed him, that now, nothing could ever be the same. And he kept coming to check in on you, and on (son’s name). 

As Batman, he reopened the case of your fiancé’s death, finding out the truth (spoiler alert : it was not an accident). Working with Jim Gordon, he discovered that many people who worked on the “Below 44″, such as your fiancé, mysteriously died of “work accident” during the years of its building, and they uncovered a large conspiracy. But more importantly, they gave justice to your fiancé, at long last. And by doing that, finally gave you closure. 

Closure that allowed you to truly move forward. 

Forward…To him. With him. 

************

The rest was history. 

Bruce wooed you (and it was the most awkward thing you’ve ever seen, you couldn’t believe that later on, before your relationship would go public, he had the guts to take a “playboy” persona given how bad at flirting he truly was). 

It took some times, but he managed to finally have what he truly wanted, for the first time in years. You. And by extension, your son. 

His son. 

************

It’s crazy, to think about. Years passed, but the feelings were still as strong. You loved that man. You loved your children, of course. 

Ah. Children. 

(Son’s name), of course. Who grew up to be such a good man, and oh how different his life would’ve been if Bruce hadn’t been there that night ? The man he quickly started to call “dad” definitely saved him too, that fateful evening. Your early years of dating, when he was still a toddler, were quite something. 

Dick came in quickly after Bruce and you officially got together. Barely a few years older than (Son’s name), he fit right in. He had always wanted to be a big brother, and (Son’s name) ? All he knew was that now, he had a partner in crime. And that was great. They bond was instantly strong. 

Then Jason followed. Lost little street kid who reminded you of yourself at his age. So eager to please, and to have a family. He would never admit it, but he still loved it when you and (son’s name) especially treated him like the baby of the family, even if he technically wasn’t. 

Tim. Too smart for his own good. Made (Son’s name) loudly say : “What the fuck ? Alfreeeeed !”. You all instantly felt very protective over that little boy who was definitely way too clever. And what a surprise to him, to finally be at the center of everyone’s attention. To find his place in a family… 

Cassandra. Your only daughter. Adored by her brothers, by her dad, and of course, by you. Suffered so much, and yet the kindest young woman you’ve ever met. 

Damian. What a shock, when he came in your life and you all learned of his existence. He was conceived before you met Bruce, and raised by the League for ten years…It was difficult, at first. But none of you would give up on him. Never. Ah, the change in his behavior could be a story of its own (wink wink). 

And finally, recently, Duke joined your family. It was now time to make sure him too, would feel at home. 

Yes. One can wonder what would’ve happened if Bruce didn’t came across your path, and saved you. 

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Well I hope you liked this ! I think I might write other fics there and there about how Bruce wooed reader specifically, and just use more of that little toddler in other stories about this alternative Batfamily (AU from my own timeline at least). Comments and reblogs are always welcomed of course :) And motivating and all, ya know the drill. Thank you <3. 

Synopsis : The story of the heartbreak brought by the dreaded news that one of your son just died…

Hello everyone. Long time no see☺️ Was very busy IRL (in a good way), but I don’t intend to stop this blog anytime soon. So here’s a story. Angst in coming haha. As usual comments and other reblogs are always very welcomed ! Hope you’ll like it: 

My masterlists :@ella-ravenwood-archives

TW : Angst, death of major characters 

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You wanted him to shut up.

You’d do anything for him to not utter another word.

Punch him in the face with all your might. Leave and never come back. Duct tape his mouth, or force him to close it with your hand. Sing loudly as to drown his voice. And if only you were able to speak yourself, you could scream at him to shut up. 

Shut up, Bruce, shut up. 

Just shut up. 

You’d do anything for him to stop talking. For you not to hear what he’s about to say.

If only…

If only you were able to move. To speak. But you couldn’t. You were frozen on the spot, unable to stop the disaster that was bound to happen. 

If only this was a dream. 

If only…

You’d wake up, and tell him about this awful nightmare you had. About how you wanted nothing but for him to shut up because you knew that he was going to announce a tragedy you weren’t sure you could handle. 

But this was reality. And he was right in front of you. And you could do nothing, but listen to what he had to say. 

“Jason…”

You could feel your legs buckle under you, as if they just turned into cotton. And you couldn’t control them. You couldn’t control anything. A fuzzy dark fog took place in your brain, knowing exactly what was about to happen, while at the same time refusing to accept it. 

But you knew. 

You knew what he was going to say. You knew ever since you saw him come back alone, his face emotionless. A face he would make only when in great distress himself, trying to tuck away his emotions in order to survive through the crisis. 

He only kept this emotionless attitude around you when the situation was dire. When he felt the worst. So you knew. You knew what happened.

And you didn’t want to hear it.

“Jason…”

Thanks God Alfred was right next to you, or you would’ve fall.

You grabbed the butler’s arm, and he catches you.

He knows too what your husband is about to say. He knows too, how broken you two are going to be, and he knows he has to be strong to try and mend you back together.

And so when your weight falls on his side, your surrogate father catches you.

He’ll always be there to catch you.

Bruce finally says it. After his explanation of how the Joker got your boy…He finally says it. Those few dreaded words.

“Jason…Jason isn’t coming back.”

He tries to stay stoic, to not bow down. To not fall apart, to not feel overwhelmed and destroyed by the death of his son. 

He tries to stay strong, for you.

But he cannot hide the sadness filling his eyes when he looks at you. He cannot hide the guilt he feels, as he came back without his son. Your son. 

He tries, really hard. Because he can’t break right now. But it’s hard. It’s too hard. And what he thinks will follow makes it even harder. 

You’re shocked. And devastated. 

And he waits.

He waits for you to regain a semblance of your senses. He waits, trying to stand tall, for you to…get mad at him.

Furious, because it is his fault you lost your son. 

He waits for you to come to him, and hit his chest as hard as you can. He waits for you to let your hatred for him flow. He waits for his sentence, as he committed an irreparable crime. 

It’s his fault your son died. His son.

He should’ve never allowed him to become Robin, never. It was so selfish of him. Dick left, and went to do his own thing, and he found Jason and…The boy was so enthusiastic. So happy to be there. So eager to please, and be part of your life. Part of bettering Gotham, too, knowing full well how much the city needed help. 

Bruce couldn’t resist him. Couldn’t resist that pumped little boy who wanted so desperately and wholeheartedly to help. He trained him, took him in as his son.

And now he was dead. And it was all his fault.

You pull away from Alfred, wiping tears off of your cheeks. The man you came to see as your father hands you a handkerchief, and you take it, trying to dry the ever flowing stream of salty tears coming out of your eyes.

You finally take a step away from Alfred, and look at Bruce.

Your eyes are so full of pain and misery that he cannot hold your stare. He bends his head down, trying as hard as he can to remain stoic. Wrongfully thinking that he has to be the strong one. That he has to endure everything on his own. 

He feels you coming close to him, and he’s ready for you to hit him with all your strength. To yell at him that it is his goddamn fault if Jason was gone.

You’re right in front of him.

His eyes close automatically, awaiting your well deserved hate towards him…
Awaiting for the last bits of his heart to be trampled on, as he’s sure he earned your loathing.

But instead… 

He jumps at the feel of your hands on his cheeks.

You force him to rise his head, to look at you. There’s so much sadness in your eyes that he feels like his heart is going to burst, but there’s also…determination ?

He doesn’t understand why one of your hand strokes his cheek while the other tangles in his hair. He doesn’t understand why you drag him down to you, so your foreheads are touching.

He doesn’t understand why you’re not yelling at him, why you’re not trying to hurt him…With a broken voice that makes you wince, because it’s filled with grief and hopelessness, he says :

“I killed our son…”

It’s barely a whisper. You can hear him only because you’re so close to him.

Your fingers massage his scalp, you know he always found the gesture soothing. Although in this instance, maybe he didn’t even notice it…

With your other hand, you brush his mouth with your thumb, and bring him ever so close to you. Flush against your body. His arms automatically wrap around you, and his head buries itself in your neck.

“I killed our son…”

He repeats. And you can’t take it anymore. Tightening your grip in his hair so he doesn’t look away, the hand that was on his cheek moving to go around his shoulder, you say :

“No. Bruce. No.”

“But I…”

“It isn’t your fault. It isn’t anyone’s fault but the Joker’s. He’s the one who took our son away. Not you. Hell, if you’re guilty then I am too, I didn’t do anything to stop him from going out there as Robin either…”

“You’ve got nothing to do with that ! I won’t allow you to even think about it !”

“Then it’s not your fault either. It’s the Joker’s. You know it is. It is his fault. His.”

The anger rising in you scares you. You can’t allow such feelings to install themselves inside you. And yet…you see it happen with frightening clarity. 

Bruce’s voice brings you back to reality :

“It is still my fault. I am…”

You shut him up with the softest kiss on his lips, trying to convey to him that no, no he’s not responsible for Jason’s death. It’s the Joker. It’s all him. He killed your beloved son. It is hisfault. He has to pay.

You feel the furry climbing inside you, how it overshadows even your sadness.

Turning your grief into hatred. You want to kill him. You want to kill the Joker…

God, you want to annihilate him so bad. 

But you know it’s not the solution.

You know it’s exactly what that psycho wants. And Bruce does know it too. He can feel your anger as well, and inside him, it’s a turmoil of emotions.

In your arms, he understands though.

He understands that he cannot kill the Joker for what he did to his son. Because if he does, then not only did he lost his boy, but also his soul.

If he kills the Joker, then the clown wins. Everything the Joker ever did was to taunt the Batman to kill him. He will not give him this satisfaction.

For Jason. And everything that boy stood for. 

He cannot let that happen. For Jason. He’ll never let that happen.

He won’t let the Joker win.  

He can feel you loosing all your strength in his arms, and he goes down on his knees with you, holding you tight against his heart.

“It is not your fault my love, it is not your fault…”

You repeat that for hours and hours. You repeat that until he almost believes it.

Here, on the floor of the batcave, you repeat it, while you hug him with all your might, and let him burry his face in your neck. 

He needs it.

He needs to let go. You make him understand he doesn’t have to be strong with you. He just lost a son. You just lost a son.

He doesn’t need to be strong all the time. And certainly not when with you.

“We…we lost our son…”

His voice cracks, and finally, his tears run freely, his arms strengthening around you, bringing you even closer to him. You let him. Of course you let him. You let go too. And together, you let your grief run fully out of you.

You can feel at some point Alfred coming close to you, wrapping the both of you in a warm blanket. Even in pain he makes sure you don’t catch a cold…you want to tell him “thank you”, but all you can say is :

“It’s not your fault.”

To Bruce. Over and over again. Holding him close. And he almost believes it.

You repeat those words, until you’re both too tired, exhausted because of the sorrow, and the heartache you felt.

“We just lost our son…”

************

It was the same nightmare all over again.

Jason came back to you years ago. It took him a long time to forgive you and Bruce for not killing the Joker. It took him ages to realize why you didn’t do it. And though he finally understood, the boy he used to be, the cheerful and mischievous boy he was, had forever disappear.

Sometimes, you could see some remnants of what he used to be. Some fleeting moments, when he was with you or his brothers. But it was often gone rapidly…In a matter of seconds, he was all serious and broody, just like his father. 

Just like his father, though your Bruce would give anything for him not to be.

Jason came back to you years ago, but the boy he was died that fateful day. Your boy was gone, forever, replaced by a man. But at least, he came back…

And now, it was the same nightmare all over again.

“Damian…Damian isn’t…”

“Please Bruce. Shhh. Don’t say it. Please. Don’t say anything else.”

The wave of despair that hits you right there and then, makes you fall to the floor, hard. And Bruce can barely catch you before you hit the ground heavily.

Here you are again. Laying on the batcave’s floor, in his laps, grieving a son.

Damian isn’t coming back, you already know it.

His own biological mother killed him, to prove a point to herself. 

A point that hurt her. Because no. She wasn’t as emotionless as she thought. No, she couldn’t just kill “her” son and move on. She wasn’t her father…

But she killed him. She did. Keeping yourself from killing her isn’t as hard as when you decided not to kill the joker. Because you know she suffers too, more than if she was dead. And in a twisted way, this makes you more satisfied than if she was gone. 

You resent those feelings. This is not who you are…And yet. It is. The hatred you feel after the death of your little boy will forever be part of you. The need for the person responsible to suffer is unfortunately something you truly feel, to your core. And honestly, who could blame you ? 

Unlike the Joker, you knew Talia felt things. And, good. 

Because she doesn’t even deserve to die. It would be too easy. 

And oh, oh how you don’t recognize yourself in those ugly feelings. But…She killed Damian. She killed “her” son. She killed your son. You cannot hide this dark part of yourself that needs revenge. 

You cannot. 

You feel Bruce shake while he holds you against him. Sat on the floor with you in his arms,  not ready to ever let you go.

You can see Alfred collapsing in Dick’s arms. Your beloved butler cannot handle it this time. He cannot be the strong one everyone needs. Not again.

On your oldest son’s face, there’s nothing but misery, but he tries to keep it in, because it’s his turn to take care of you, of Alfred, of his father…He wasn’t there for you guys when Jason died, busy doing his “own things”, not even knowing his little brother died. Maybe if he was there at the time, he could’ve saved him ? Maybe if he didn’t “selfishly” decide to leave ? 

But there is no point in dwelling in the past. He wasn’t there before, he would be there this time. He would be there this time…

You can also spot, in the blur of your teary eyes, Jason holding a shaking, crying Tim. It wasn’t always the biggest love between Tim and Damian. They drove each other crazy on a regular basis. But he was his brother. The teasing didn’t mean there was no love. On the contrary, their constant bickering was their own way to say : “I care deeply about you, dumbass”, their brotherly love language. And Damian was so young. Damian was so young…He wasn’t even able to protect his little brother, how could he help protecting the city ?

You don’t see Cass, and in a way, that’s good. You’re not sure you could handle seeing her heart broken You vaguely recall, in your painful state, that she’s away on a school trip, and you dread her return…

(A/N : Duke was not yet part of the fam when Damian died, which is why he does not appear in this story). 

Your eyes meet Jason’s, and the strength in them makes you feel a tiny bit better. You know he’ll be here too. You know he’s not going anywhere. Not this time. It took him a long time to forgive you and Bruce, but now, he wasn’t planning on leaving ever again. Especially not now. He knows you need him more than ever, and he’ll be there. Yes. He’ll be there.

This time, no words are exchanged between you and Bruce. You just hold onto each others, because that’s the only thing you can do, the only thing you can bear. His breath warms your forehead as he holds you close to him. 

This time, no words are exchanged between you and your Bruce. No. This time, you can’t speak. Surrounded by your grieving family, by your sons who are shaken to the core, by your surrogate father who was dying of sadness, by your Bruce…You can’t utter a word.

You can just hug your husband tight, making sure he won’t go.

He can just burry his face in your hair, not holding back his tears and sadness. Once again, he lost a son, and it was his fault, because he wasn’t able to protect him.

This time, you don’t have the strength to tell him itisn’this fault. This time, years after you lost Jason, you don’t have the strength to handle it anymore.

Couldn’t your family catch a break ? So much grief, so many bad things happening to your beloved sons, to your Bruce…

This time, you don’t have the strength to reassure Bruce.

You just lost a son. He just lost a son.

“We just lost our son…”

You hear him whisper, so lowly that you’re not sure he actually said it, or if your brain is playing tricks on you. If it’s some kind of flashback from Jason’s death.

Damian isn’t coming back. He’s never coming back. You lost a son. He lost a son. Your kids lost a brother. Alfred lost a grandchild.

The World lost one of its greatest and brightest inhabitant. 

The reality of all of this delves on you, and the same sadness you felt when you thought Jason was gone forever washes over you, taking away all of your hopes, all vision of a bright future.

Damian. Your son. Your youngest little boy. Isn’t coming back.

He’s never coming back.

Yes, how terrible it is, to love something that Death can touch.

To be continued ;) (because yes, Jason and Damian’s death were super hard to deal with…but let’s not forget about how Dick, Tim and Bruce faked their death and it must’ve been as equally horrible to think you lost your loved ones just to realize they were fine all along, re-writing this story made me want to write a sequel about those guys so bad :). And also talk about other very close call with death, admittedly an endless subject with this family haha). 

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Maybe some of y’all noticed, this is a rewriting of an old story of mine (which I accidentally erased…I need to stop being on Tumblr on my phone ). I liked it so I just…rewrote it (I still had the original story tucked away in a word document, thanks God I saved everything from the first time I accidentally erased something haha). The original story was almost 5 years old, and although I’m still insecure in many ways about my writing, I do believe I improved since then (mainly thanks to this blog, and y’all <3). I’m pretty happy I re-wrote it, I made some massive changes to it which I think better it :). I don’t know if any of y’all read it before this re-write, but if you remember it (again, it’s old and pretty much went under the radar amongst all my fics), you’ll realize how vastly different it is now. And I like it better…I hope you do too.  

Yup. I do hope you liked it, and if you did, comments and reblogs are always beyond appreciated, and motivating:). 

Synopsis :Damian is terrified of growing up, because he finally found a family and doesn’t want them to be around him less because he grows older…He’s especially scared that his mom, you, will slowly stop taking care of him. Because that’s what growing up is right ? Your parents just slowly stop taking care of you because you’re an adult. His siblings reassure him that…this is definitely not gonna happen.

Sudden burst of inspiration, had to jump on the occasion to write ! Like y’all, I hadn’t been able to sit down and write for that long in over six months, the fact I wrote this in an hour without stopping once is a good sign for me hehe. I hope you’ll like this, and of course as always feedbacks and reblogs are super welcomed !! :

My Masterlist :@ella-ravenwood-archives

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“Hey buddy, I have some important meetings today and won’t be there for lunch. Your dad too. I left some food for you, see you tonight, love ya.”

Are the simple sentences that set Damian off.

Alfred had his day off (and Damian couldn’t feel bad about that, the butler rarely took days off and when he did they were planned well in advance and he’d usually prepare everything for everyone). You and Bruce were busy. And his siblings were out and about. Damian could definitely reheat food for himself. It wasn’t really a challenge. It’s just that…

That him alone in the manor, it reminded him of bad days from the past, when he always had to fend off for himself.

He felt absolutely ridiculous feeling that way, because that was the first time since he came into your life that he actually was home alone. But he couldn’t help it. He’d gotten used to always having someone around. And he hated being alone.

At first, he always sought to be on his own. It was all he ever knew. And he thought that’s how life was. He spend hours on end all alone in his room, when he wasn’t in the Batcave. Up until…

Up until you sought him out. Whether it was to watch a movie, bake some cookies or just be silly. And if it wasn’t you, it was one of his siblings. He thought you were all so annoying, in the beginning. He always sighted, growled and got snappy with you all when you came look for him at first. But then…

Then he realized that, when you finally started to leave him alone thinking he just liked to be on his own…He felt lonely.

Actually lonely.

And it always brought an onslaught of bad memories, when he felt that way. So today ? Yeah. To him it was silly to have those emotions, but he couldn’t help it. He just couldn’t. He wasn’t used to be alone anymore.

The truth was, this couldn’t be a worst timing.

It was almost his birthday, reminiscent that he was getting older and older, closer and closer to the age he’d have to leave the Manor and fly on his own.

And he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to and this wasn’t fair ! He was already ten when he came into yours and Bruce’s life, so much less time than most children to enjoy their parents’ care ! And to be the “baby of the family”. He only had eight years of this bliss.

Eight years of finally having care and love, and someone who would always be there for him.

For some reasons, in his very pragmatic and cartesian mind, once you turned eighteen, you were on your own. 

Was it because this was the age his grandfather had originally planned for him to start taking over the world for real ? The age his grandfather always mentioned as the final trial before he had to handle himself (even more than before) ? Before he had to put his years of training into action ? A perpetual “Year of the blood” ?

Maybe. 

And maybe if he wasn’t so afraid, he would’ve seen how, even though Dick and Jason had their own place in town, they were still very obviously your babies (just the week before, you went to Dick’s apartment to bring him some chicken soup, and stayed there the night because he had the flu !). 

Or maybe he would’ve noticed Cass had turned 18 not long ago and was still here with no intention yet of leaving. Cass actually had the same sort of thoughts than Damian, except in her head, because she only started to have love and care at age 12 when she was officially adopted by you, she had lots to catch up, and her plan was to stay as long as she could at the manor. 

Not that it would bother you nor Bruce. The place would feel too lonely without them (Bruce’s secret wish would be that none of his kids would ever leave the nest, and he did everything to convince them to stay…Alfred had to have a stern talk with him when he tried to dissuade Dick to take his own apartment and scare him into staying home).

Yes. Maybe if he hadn’t been so afraid, Damian would’ve realized that of course you’d never just stop caring for him once he turned a certain age.

But fear. Fear always numb the mind, and you can never think straight when something that primal rises inside you. And it was oddly set in his mind that once you turn eighteen, you had to leave your family.

He had only about four or five years max left now. It wasn’t much. 

It wasn’t enough.

And he was so afraid.

To be honest, he had been thinking about it for a while now. And the mere thought of having to leave the manor filled him with anxiety and distress. 

He needed some fresh air. Whenever he felt like he was going to explode because he felt too many things at once, he’d go out in the garden (most of the time with Titus). To think. And to refresh himself. And he would-

“Uuuum, I’m sorry young man but where’s your jacket ? It’s October, and COLD.”

Damian jumped a little in the air, he was most definitely not expecting anyone. As he turned around and saw Jason there, a frown on his face, the gloominess he felt about being alone for lunch instantly faded away.

“What are you doing here ?”

He asked a bit harshly, to keep composure. He was not about to tell his brother, especially not that one, that he was feeling the way he was feeling. Jason had a tendency to remember things way too well.

“Mom told me to come check on you, she wasn’t sure she left enough food for your lunch. Dad called too, cause of course he would. As if I forget to do things, you know ? Anyway, I brought veggie burgers and fries. Oh. And Dick also texted me like forty times to come because I wasn’t doing anything “important” -how would he know anyway- and he was busy…being a cop or something.”

Jason said, ignoring the bite in his little brother’s voice. Just like everyone else in the family, he came to recognize when Damian didn’t really mean the things he said, or the tone he took.

As if it was the most normal thing in the world, he took his jacket off and put it on Damian’s shoulder.

“Honestly, wearing a t-shirt in this weather. You’re lucky mom’s not here. You’d never hear the end of it. If she can make a speech about wearing proper warm clothing to dad, out of everyone, to the Batman himself, she can definitely talk your ears off about it too.”

“I’m not cold.” 

“Sure you’re not.” 

Truth was, yeah, Damian was starting to feel a little cold. He didn’t really think about taking a jacket when he got out. Mmm. Someone reminding him to wear a jacket. 

It’s the little things, you know ? 

That he’ll miss. When he’ll be too grown up for it. When his parents, and even his siblings will just assume he can think of a jacket himself. And like, yeah, sure, he probably could. Once you’re an adult you have to think about this kind of thing. 

But what if he forgot ? Nobody anymore to remind him, or to bring a warm way-too-big-for-him coat to wear…

He’d miss that. 

Jason was staring at him, immediately noticing something was wrong, and said: 

“Alright, out with it.” 

“What ?” 

“Something is obviously bothering you. Come on, tell me. You know you can trust me.” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Sure it’s not.” 

Damian clicked his tongue in annoyance. Jason had this particular sarcasm and irony about him, that instantly made you understand that he did not believe you. He shook the bag containing the veggie burgers, a warm and appetizing smell coming out of it, and said : 

“Come on, let’s go inside. Eat. And we’ll see if you wanna talk then.” 

************

Damian did talk. And it was easier than he thought it would be. Jason made a comment about him not eating any of the food you made, and how it would worry you and…It just poured out of the little boy’s mouth.

All his worries. His fears and his stress. 

“I know it’s stupid, but please don’t mock me.” 

He said, dejected. There was a short silence before Jason said : 

“I’m not about to mock you for that, little brother. I feel ya, really.”

Ah yes. Yes. There was probably no one better than Jason who understood exactly Damian’s feelings right now. 

As a child, Jason was constantly afraid he’d do something wrong and you would stop loving him, so he always worked extra hard to be good, even when it was hard to. And after he died and came back in the way he did…It’s like his worst fear happened. Because he thought the reason Bruce never killed the Joker was that he didn’t really love him. And the reason you and him adopted Tim was to replace him.

Of course, now, he understood how wrong he was. And of course, at the same time, his anger and hurt was justified. But this was another story.

The point was, Jason understood Damian’s fear right now. And so the perfect words to reassure his brother came naturally to him, too. It were the words he wished he heard, all those years ago (and that you eventually did tell him) : 

“Ok but Squirt, if you think that just because you’re gonna be a “grown up” or whatever I’ll stop caring about you, you’re very wrong. I will call you to remind you of very basic things till the end of days. You’re sixty, have a wife and children ? I’m in my seventies screaming at you to were a jacket. It’ll never end. Never. You’re always going to be my little brother. And mom’s kid. Always.”

He’d never admit it, but Jason was kind of the “mom brother”. People always thought he was the rebel who only fought with his family…that wasn’t true. He fought with Bruce, sure. And he constantly bickered with Dick but that’s because they had this little “big brother competition” going on (and when they were children, Jason admired Dick and felt embarrassed about that so he would snap at him for no reasons because he still had a hard time processing his emotions…after all, he grew up all alone, nobody ever explained to him it was ok to want to be loved, to be angry, to be hurt etc).

He resembled you greatly in that way, really. It was because of his life in the streets, and his broken family. When he finally found the love of a Family, he never let it go. Even when he was so angry, in the first few years of being Red Hood. The reason he was, was because he loved all of you so much. 

And he resembled you. The same comments about eating enough, drinking water, sleeping enough, wearing warm clothes or not watching TV in the dark. He’d “mom” his siblings when you weren’t there, and they pretend they were annoyed by it while really, it was the opposite. 

And Damian thought, well, if his brother, who was so much like you, said that. If he sounded so sure about never ever stopping caring and loving him…Then surely, you would too, right ? 

Because you were really a like, he thought. Really alike. 

And he was happy to not be alone for lunch. 

************

“Jason ! You’re still here, oh you’re staying for dinner right ? Alfred always make too much food just in case one of you will pop in anyway. He’s coming back tonight”

The sheer and simple happiness written on your face as you see your son is obvious. Damian sees it. And it’s reassuring. So, so reassuring. The same smile Is still on your face when you turn to him and say :

“How  was it today ? Did you have enough food ? See when Alfred has his day off I always feel like I don’t feed you enough.”

“It was fine mom. Also Jason brought veggie burgers and all so we had more than enough.” 

“Oh good. What did you two little buddies did today ?” 

“You two little buddies”. Jason, who was in his early twenties, and Damian, who was quite younger…were called the same way. 

It meant something, right ? It meant you both saw them the same, right ? 

And so…it meant than when Damian would be older, you’d still see him as your little kid ? And care for him ? 

You hadn’t seen Jason for barely three days, and yet you attacked him with dozens of questions about how he was doing, and what he was doing and…it reassured Damian. Greatly. 

Yes. You left space for your children as they grew up. But when they didn’t want that space ? When they needed you ? Like right now, as Jason was telling you about his recent adventures ? …You were there. 

You were there. And by all means, it felt like you would always be there. 

Jason noticed the relief in his little brother, and gave him a partner-in-crime kind of wink. Which made the little boy smile, despite himself. 

************

“Mooooom !! Can you make that “PB and J samwitch” you’re famous for please ?”

“With the crust cut off ?”

“Yes please.”

“No worries little buddy.”

Dick hadn’t been home for more than an hour, before he launched his infamous “Moooom” and asked you for something. And honestly ? Didn’t bother you one bit. He had always been polite about asking you things, and it was never too difficult. Just small rituals between you two. 

Like the PB and J “samwitch”. Almost an inside joke between you and him. One of the thing, as silly as it sounds, that made you so close all those years ago, when he was a little heartbroken eight year old. And when you promised yourself you’d always be there for him. 

So what if sometimes you made him his favorite sandwiches ? He definitely was grateful and this little reminiscence of past years always warmed your heart. Making those sandwiches, cutting the crust off, eating them with him…It all brought only good memories. And it made new good memories. So why would you stop doing it ? 

Dick smiled and went to sit in the comfy armchair of the main living room. Damian was sitting in another one, reading a book. However, very fast, Dick felt his brother’s eyes on him and turned around, a question in his eyes.

“…You’re twenty-four.” Damian said, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, I am. And so ?”

“”Samwitch” ? Crust cut off ? Can’t you do that yourself ?? Are you a child or what ?”

There’s a small silence, during which Dick seems to ponder Damian’s question. And ah, of course he takes it very seriously. A little too seriously maybe, as he puts a hand on his chin, as he always does when he tries to think of a plan of attack during his “vigilante work”.

“Well. Yeah. I can do it myself. And I do when I’m back in my apartment. But mom is here so, yeah.”

It sounded like an evidence in Dick’s mouth. Of course. Of course if his mom was here, if you were here, he’d take advantage of it and seek to be pampered by you. And where was the bad in this ? 

I mean, he’d been living on his own for a while now, couldn’t he sometimes be indulged and treated like if he was still a kid ? You always told him he’ll forever be “your kid” anyway. And your sandwiches, although made the same way he made it, somehow still tasted better. 

Dick could see Damian had some trouble fathoming his behavior, and as the big brother he was, of course he’d properly explain.

“We’re lucky to have an awesome mom who loves us. Who wants to be there for us, even if it’s to make our favorite food. Why wouldn’t we be happy about it, and let her do it ? I’m always happy to do things to help her out, like when I pick you or Tim at school. Stuffs like that. It’s um…Our love language ?”

“Love language ?” 

“Yeah, you know. The way we show we love each others. Amongst other thing. Like we both have multiple love language I feel but it’s not really the question here. Listen, yeah, I’m twenty-four. And maybe it’s a flaw, to still love to be treated like a kid by my mom. Maybe it’s not normal, even. But out there, whether at work at the police station, or when I’m Nightwing…Things are rarely great. We always see broken families, people in pain, horrible things happening. So what if, when I’m home, with my mom, I like to be taken care of ?” 

Damian was stunned. Yeah. Yeah he understood what Dick meant. But he just didn’t know you could be THAT old and still have your mom do all of that ! Which is a little silly, because he did see his mom act that way towards Dick or Jason before, without batting an eye. 

Why is it that when it came to himself, he always thought there were different set of rules, he always was so hard on himself about everything ? You and his siblings made him understand. 

He deserved love too. And-

“Here little buddy, yoursamwitch. And you, littlest buddy, do you want anything ?” 

You were speaking to him. He hadn’t even noticed you came back, pondering about what Dick just said. But he answered : 

“Could I have some cookies, please ?” 

“Of course. White chocolate chip ?” 

“Yes ! Um, could I help you ?” 

“Of course, come one, the more the merrier. Let’s try to not eat all the cookie dough before though, like last time. Wanna join, Dickiebird ?” 

“Gladly ! Always love to cook with you.” 

Dick didn’t care, when his team mates from Teen Titans mocked him because he called his mom every day. He didn’t care, when the Young Justice, and now the Justice League mocked him when his mom called him “Dickiebird”, “Little buddy” or “my baby”. For Dick, you still sometimes almost babying him was a great treat. 

Because he was right. His life was hard. Harder than most. And so, what if he wanted to get a hug from his mom, or to just be generally pampered by her ? If you were around, he for sure still would ask you to tuck him in…and where was the shame in this ? Those moments were so rare nowadays. And he was an independent adult. So what if sometimes, just sometimes, he wanted to escape the harshness of real life just to feel cared for by his mom, or his dad ? 

There was no shame in this. None. Which is why Dick never cared when other mocked him about it. This was hardly something he was ashamed of. 

And today, Damian understood this, too. 

No matter how old he would be, he would always still still be allowed to have his mom take care of him. 

************

“I turned 18. I am now an adult, by law. But mom doesn’t care much about law. Look.”

Cass says, and on that note, she smiles at her brother tenderly before going to where you were sitting, and just…Ah yes. Damian saw her do that before.

Damian and Cass understood each other really well. They both had a difficult and loveless early childhood, and were craving affection now. And it wasn’t rare that he would see his sister…demand a hug from their mom (and even from their dad, the boys were sometimes a little too proud and awkward for that, but Cass ? She didn’t care. If she needed comfort, she wouldn’t hesitate to seek it. Not anymore.)

And Damian instantly knew what she was trying to show him.

Cass was grown up now. By all technicalities. Yet if she wanted a hug, she’d get it. And both Damian and her knew that whether she was twelve, eighteen or forty, as long as you were there, you would give one to her.

As usual, without any words, Cass was able to convey all her meanings to her little brother.

Damian felt warmth in his heart the rest of the evening. Feeling happy to see her sister happy. But also that yes, age definitely didn’t matter when it came to motherly love. And that made him more than happy, a feeling he had no words yet to express.

But as Cass constantly showed, sometimes, you didn’t even need any words to show your true feelings.

******

Damian’s concerns came to Duke’s ears, one day. And although Damian was less and less afraid of the eventuality you would one day stop caring for him, the topic of conversation still came up as they were patrolling, and Duke was more than willing to let Damian open up to him. 

Especially since this was the first time they had this kind of heart to heart conversation. Damian was a tough nut to crack. He always kept his distance at first, suspicious of any newcomer. And he also was a little jealous of the attention given to Duke, for sure. 

But this conversation ? It came naturally as they were just casually talking while on their patrol, and nothing much was happening. 

“I’ve been here for less time than you, but I have no doubt in my mind that Bruce and (Y/N) will never cease to see us as their kids.”

It’s true. Duke hadn’t been here for as long as all your other kids. And his situation was a little special, as his parents were still alive and there was hope for them, even after all this time. He hadn’t yet called you or Bruce “mom” and “dad, but he didn’t think any less. You took that place in his heart, right along sides his own parents. You taught him that he could still treat all of you like his family without betraying the family he already had.

And that was precious.

And oh so needed, after all he’s been through.

And for Duke, there really wasn’t any doubt. He knew he’ll forever be able to count on you.

“See it that way, if I needed you, twenty years from now, would you not come to help me ?”

Damian looked at Duke, outraged in his eyes, and exclaimed :

“Of course I would come !”

“Well it’s the same for all of us. We fight sometimes, and we say things we don’t mean. I know I haven’t been around long, but I also know I would jump in any situation if it was for any of you. In the short time I’ve been here, I was able to feel the family love. And the strong bond we now all share. So believe me Damian, when I say none of us will ever stop caring about and for you just because you grow older, I truly mean it.”

It’s true that Duke hadn’t been a member of the “Batfamily” for long. And this new perspective he brought, Damian didn’t even think about it ! Sometimes, it felt so obvious to all of you that you loved each other, that you forgot to remind that to one another. But for Duke, it was all new. And he had no qualms reminding his new little brother that yes.

Yes, he’ll always be there.

It’s a shame, really, that no one else was around when Damian gave that first hug ever to Duke, who gladly accepted it.

But in a way, this first brotherly move, first trace of the bond that had been built between them, well, maybe it was meant to only be between the two of them.

************

It just happened. 

One evening, he was feeling particularly anxious and scared, and he just spilled the bean to..his dad. 

And Bruce’s reaction was immediate, and it was obvious by how quickly he spoke that he didn’t quite think things through (if he had, maybe he would’ve known what was about to happen, given a certain son’s presence) : 

“Son, your mother even baby me sometimes, so I really do not think she’ll ever stop seeing you as her precious little boy.”

“She…babies you ?”

“Yes, and he LOVES it !” Jason chimes in, snickering and obviously reveling in the fact his father wasalmostblushing. 

With his dad, it was always about the micro-changes in his facial expressions. It was hard, to decipher it. Only the trained eyes could see it, and oh, you trained Jason since he first came in to show him the small changes in your husband face. To recognize his “smiles”, his worry, his anger…

Bruce spend years learning how to school his facial expressions, how to control his emotions. But sometimes, with his family, he didn’t fool any of them. And right now, he was clearly not going to react to Jason’s little mockery, so naturally Jason thought he’d add, speaking to his brother :

“You probably saw it. He lays his head in her lap and she scratches it. Kind of how we scratch Ace and Titus’ heads.”

Bruce kept a neutral expression (and how frustrating it was how much he could school his expression to let nothing appear), and answered, matter of factly :

“She does not “scratch” my head. She runs her hand through my hair. -short pause- It’s soothing.”

There was almost a comical gap between his lack of facial expression, his monotone tone, and his words, and it made Jason’s smile even wider. Damian too, couldn’t help but smile a little too much.

“But um. Yes. Sometimes, she just…sooth me.”

Bruce knew this sounded ridiculous, and out of character (to anyone not truly knowing who Bruce Wayne really was). But he also knew that this was the truth. You had this gift. Sometimes you’d sing him sort-of lullabies when he had bad nights. You’d hold him until he fell asleep. You’d run your hand through his hair, caressing his scalp…And he would never stop you. 

He would never admit to anyone else but his children this very fact. Never. But if it could reassure his son in any way, what was the harm ? 

There was none. And as the night started, Damian felt all warm inside. By the fact his parents love always made him happy for some reason (when they weren’t being gross and kissing -bleargh). But also because, if his forty years old father still had the “soothing treatment”, why wouldn’t he, when he was grown up ?

************

Your kids were pretty good at keeping secrets…but it never lasted long when it came to you. You always knew what was going on. Oh, and once Bruce knew about it ? There was no way he could resist you. 

He always told you everything. 

And so you came to know Damian’s worries, and even though you understood that everyone reassured him already, you felt like it was your duty to reinforce everything. So, one night, as you were tucking him in, you chose a particular story to read him. 

It was a small children’s book. Definitely destined for kids way below his age. Not the kind of thing you would read to him. Usually, you’d both read classics. Adventure books. Lately you read the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy. Etc etc. Never actual kids’ books. But tonight, this choice seemed appropriate. 

It was a book called “Love you Forever” written by four authors, and the last words went something like this : 

“I’ll love you forever,
I’ll like you for always,
As long as I’m living, 
My baby you’ll be.” 

And there was no need for more. He knew you knew. 

He knew one of his siblings told you about his fear, probably out of worries. Or that his father, as you “ran your hands through his hair”, spilled the bean. And he didn’t care. 

Because by reading just a simple bed time story, you erased all his fears. 

“I’ll love you forever,
I’ll like you for always,
As long as I’m living,
My baby you’ll be.” 

************

It was rare, to have all of your kids home. But sometimes, it happened. When they took the rare night off (and only because Kate was out, because they knew it’d be calm…even in Gotham, certain nights were eventless). It happened less and less, as time went on and they all grew up. 

Your babies. 

You always felt a pinch in your heart, thinking about how one day, they’ll all leave. Ah if only. If only they could all feel like Damian feels right now. 

Like he never wants to grow up, like he never wants to leave. 

But you knew. You knew that even him, one day, would take his flight. And you knew that he would do great. 

You also knew you would never cease being a mother. And that as soon as they’d need you, you’d be there. 

It was getting late, and you were thinking about all this when Dick, who was always great at reading your feelings and knew you were a bit nostalgic at the moment, said : 

“Hey, say, mom, since we’re all here and have the night off…what about a bed time story ?”

Oh. Ooh. How could you resist ? As Dick asked you that, a wide smile on his face, you had a flashback of the sweet little eight years old boy who used to ask that same question every night. And you never could say no.

And when they were all here ? It was impossible to refuse the offer.

Yours and Bruce’s bed was a unique bed tailored especially for you that your husband ordered years ago, when Cassandra officially became your daughter and your old bed was starting to be too small for all of you when it was “story  time nights”.

It was a bed especially made for your family, and each one of your children had their spot on it, as you started to read one of the house’s favorite. Even Bruce, was listening, and the sound of your voice plus the presence of his children had the most soothing effect on him.

You all regularly joked that he was the first one to dose off, off in a deep sleep. He didn’t care much, those were the few moments he could genuinely sleep. And that made all of you happy.

One by one, your children fell asleep, a cute tangle of arms and legs (Dick had the habit since a long time to almost strangle Jason, clinging to him as he fell asleep, and as Jason grew up and became much taller than Dick, it just went from cute brotherly love to hilarious “hugchokehold”). Damian was the last one to close his eyes, as usual, wanting to enjoy moments with his family as much as he could.

The story was over since quite a while, but you weren’t asleep yet. You were just basking in the warmth and love of being surrounded by those you loved, your children who would always be your babies, and your husband who was the love of your life. 

Sometimes, amongst all the hardship and troubles, there were really blissful moments. 

The end.

__________________________________________________

I hope you liked it. Just a little silly story that came to my mind as I was thinking about my own mom :). Maybe it’s stupid, I still enjoyed writing it ! And I hope you liked reading it. As usual feedbacks and reblogs are always welcomed, and see you soon with a new story ! 

Operator: 911 please hold

Tim: Can you please stop trying to kill me for a few minutes, I’m on hold

Jason, sighing and putting down his guns:Fine

lockpick-kid:

bruce: that’s it! i’m declaring 15 minutes of silence. everyone just sit down and think about what you’ve done.

bruce: what is that horrible dripping noise?

damian: todd was stabbed

bruce:WHAT? why wouldn’t you tell me that?

jason: 15 minutes weren’t over

Tim: How much of what you’re saying do you believe right now?

Dick: About sixty percent.

Tim: I thought it was in the mid-eighties. How’d you pull it off so well?

Dick:Experience.

Dick, injured: Am I going to die?

Bruce: Absolutely not. You’re perfectly fine.

Bruce: *starts talking about his feelings*

Dick, internally: Oh, I am definitely going to die.

Dick: What did the water say to the boat?

Tim: If this is another bad pun I swear—

Dick: Nothing. It just waved.

Tim: Give me your gun Jason.

floatinghanmi:

“hey batkids, everyone copy?” ☎️

inspired by the very iconic earring communicators babs builds in batgirls #2!!

Bruce: Yeah, I get that there are moments, small moments, very infrequent moments, where I’m not the easiest guy to work with, but who the hell is?

Clark: I am

Bruce: Fuck you

Barbara: Did you set your hair on fire again?

Dick,as smoke visibly pours out from behind him: No, that was just one time. It’s just that I’m so good looking, I’m literally smoking hot

Tim, to Jason: I would ask you for moral support but you have questionable morals

Someone: You two are teenagers?? But you both look so much older

Steph: Well, excuse you-

Tim:Thanks

Tim: It’s the trauma

Dick: When I was your age—

Jason, mocking him: When I was your height—

Dick:

Dick: Listen here, you little shit-

Tim: Sorry I called you an asshole, I assumed you already knew

Kon:(ง'̀-‘́)ง

seriouslyfuckbatman:

Part One Here

As Promised my loves, part 2.

This one was so much fun because I like writing pissy Bruce. Also apologies that Damian is a little OOC

You and Bruce came to an agreement, sort of. Neither of you really liked it, but Damian refused to return to his father if you weren’t with him. So Bruce set you up with a room in the Manor, and a car so that you could get to and from work.

Damian moved in a week before you did, he called and texted you everyday, and most importantly he sent you pictures of his pets. You smiled at each message from your boy while you packed up your belongings into small boxes.

The day you were to move in, you were surprised that Bruce, Damian, and Bruce’s oldest son, Dick, came to help you move your stuff into a large SUV. Dick had a kind smile and he thanked you for taking care of Damian when they couldn’t. You liked him more than Bruce, who was still cold to you.

The moment that you three arrived to the Wayne Manor, Damian grabbed your hand and dragged you inside, giving you a tour of the most important rooms (in his view). The tour consisted of Damian pulling you through the kitchen, dining room, library, his room, and finally your room. Once that was done Damian introduced you to his pets.

“He was the only reason I wanted to go back.” Damian admitted, scratching behind Titus’ ear.

“How long have you known who you were?” You had asked Damian many times, and he would always stiffen and not talk. You didn’t know why, but you tried not to push it too hard.

“I want you to meet Goliath.” Damian said, effectively changing the subject from your question, “But father doesn’t want you going down to the Batcave.”

And of course Bruce didn’t want you down there.

“Well you will just have to show me tons of pictures.” You smiled, and Damian smiled back.

That night you eat dinner with Damian, Bruce, and Dick. It was mostly silent, with Damian insisting on sitting next to you, Bruce at the head of the table, and Dick sitting across from you. It was awkward and silent, with people just pushing around their food.

It was Dick that couldn’t take it, he stood up looking pointing at Bruce, “I’m going to go patrol. Dami want to go with me?”

And you answered without thinking about it, “It’s a school night. He needs to go to sleep.”

No one was expecting you to say that, because Dick stared at you, opening and closing his mouth, and Bruce had a hard set to his jaw. You didn’t look up from the food on your plate.

Finally Bruce gave Dick a tight nod, and Dick slipped from the room, leaving his dirty plate.

Once you finished your meal, you took all the plates to the kitchen, despite Alfred’s protests, and told Damian to get ready for bed. You were so in the habit of acting like his guardian that you forgot that it wasn’t your job anymore. Not really.

“Y/N.” Bruce said from behind you as you were washing the dishes, you turned around almost shattering the plate. Bruce looked angry and you were suddenly a little scared, because this man could probably kill you five hundred ways. “I know that you’ve been taking care of Damian for a year now, but I am his father, and I make the calls.”

“Is this because I told him he can’t patrol?” You asked, because you had a very good reason for that.

“No.” Bruce said flatly, and you could hear the lie, “This is because you are now living with us and you think you are still responsible for Damian’s well being.”

“Well someone has to be!” You shouted before you could stop yourself.

You knew it was a dumb thing to say, but the look that Bruce gave you, radiating rage and questioning your authority, made you even more positive that you were being an idiot.

“What did you just say?” Bruce asked, stepping closer to you, and you leaned back into the sink scared. “Are you insinuating that I can’t care for my own son?”

“I found him bleeding in a dirty alleyway in Gotham. And I took care of him, alone. So no, I don’t think you can.” You shouted back in anger.

You watched as Bruce sucked in a deep breath, you could see him count to ten, and you wondered if he would punch you. It would be fair, because you were being a jerk, but you really hoped he wouldn’t.

“If… If this is going to work we need to set up rules.” Bruce finally said through gritted teeth, “Rules we can both agree on.”

“Fine.” You shot back.

“Fine.”

“Rule one, no patrols on school nights.” You stated. Bruce didn’t say anything for a long moment, and so you left, let him stew in his own anger. You would talk about rules in the morning.

You walked up to Damian’s room, he was sitting up on his bed, his cat was on one side, and Titus was curled up at the corner of his bed. Damian looked worried, but when he saw you the tension eased from his face.

“Umi, what took you so long?” Damian asked, and you smiled before placing a quick kiss on his forehead.

“Just got lost.” You replied, because Damian didn’t need to hear that his parents were fighting.

You stayed with Damian for a half hour before telling him to go to sleep, and then you returned to your room, where you sat up the entire night, wondering if this all was a mistake. Maybe you should have stayed at your apartment, and petitioned for custody every other weekend.

The next day you got back from work tired and just really wanting a long shower. You weren’t expecting to see Bruce sitting at the kitchen counter with a piece of paper in front of him, he looked almost as tired as you.

“Y/N, I thought we should write out our rules.” Bruce said.

You almost laughed, because you were really not expecting Bruce to actually make a contract, but he was a businessman so it made sense. And you wanted this to work, so you sat down across from Bruce and the two of you worked out a real and serious contract. One you were both okay with.

One thing that you hadn’t been expecting when you were living in the Wayne Manor was for it to always be loud. There were always a bunch of children running around, and usually breaking things. Damian usually forced you to stay away from the others, wanting you all to yourself, so you didn’t really know many of them.

You and Damian were baking cookies together in the kitchen, when a sleepy 17 year old stumbled into the kitchen, he stared at you, and then at Damian who was excitedly helping you mix the batter, and blinked a lot.

“Hello.” You said with a smile, and Damian whirled around to see his brother.

“Umi that is Drake, don’t pay any attention to him.”

“Thanks demon.” Tim muttered, grabbing some coffee.

“Kid, that’s not nice. Apologize.” You said not even looking at Damian.

Tim opened his mouth to say something, probably along the lines of ‘he will never apologize,’ but Damian looked at Tim and quietly said, “Sorry Drake.”

Tim stared at you with wide eyes.

“Who are you?” Tim asked in amazement, and you just laughed, continuing the cookies.

That night the entire Batfamily gathered in the living room, and you were there as well, watching as Damian verbally sparred with his brothers. Everyone was talking and having a good time, and you were standing against the wall, feeling a little left out, but not wanting to intrude more on Bruce’s life.

That’s when you noticed another kid hanging around the outskirts, he too looked slightly uncomfortable. You made your way over to him, “Hey. I don’t think I know you.”

The boy looked up at you with wide eyes that reminded you of Damian when you first met him.

“You’re Damian’s… you’re Damian’s.” The kid said, and you laughed.

“Good to know that’s my legacy, that I belong to a child.” You snorted and the boy looked a little embarrassed, “But that still doesn’t tell me who you are.”

The boy smiled his face darkening with a blush, “Right. I’m Duke. Duke Thomas.”

“Well Duke. Duke Thomas.” You smiled, and the boy rubbed the back of his neck. You felt bad for embarrassing the boy so badly, but it was really easy, “You look hungry. I made cookies earlier, you like chocolate chip?”

And you felt your heart break a little when you saw how excited this child was, he clearly wasn’t noticed enough. So you took him down to the kitchen where you you had left the cookies, you listened to him as he told you about his day, and you congratulated him when you found out he was president of the Spanish club.

When the two of you returned to the living room Damian came up to your side, and he glared at Duke, “You will leave my Umi alone.”

“Kid.” You said warningly.

“Sorry.” Damian muttered, he didn’t sound sorry. He took your arms and dragged you back to your room.

It was three AM on a Friday night– Well you guess Saturday morning– when the door to your room opened with a loud creak. You were still very much asleep and didn’t notice, even when your visitor tapped on your face, once, twice.

The third time you shot up to see Damian and Duke both standing in front of you, you were shocked to see them.

“Dami?” You croaked out, “Duke? What’s going on?”

Damian shifted from one foot to another, he looked embarrassed. Duke on the other hand didn’t have trouble asking, “We had a … bad patrol. Can we sleep with you tonight. Please?”

That woke you up really quick. You were alert, looking at the two boys, they were both in pyjamas and there was no visible injuries.

“Are either of you hurt?” You asked, pulling the two closer to you.

“No Umi, I just wanted to be with you. I’m not sure why Thomas is here.” Damian muttered, and you didn’t say anything about the comment. You were too busy pulling both the boys into your arms. That night you fell asleep between you two boys, a protective arm slung around them.

You would have serious words with Bruce in the morning.