Prompt: Batmom meets Damian Wayne
A/N: This one is based off of Son of Batman. Also, I may or may not add one of the girls or Terry next!
“Sweetheart, if you want me to visit you that badly then I’ll come to Blüdhaven tomorrow.” You said, sighing into the phone. Dick may be a full-grown adult, but he could act like such a kid sometimes.
“Mommmm!” Dick whined, “I need you to come over now!”
You shook your head and smirked in amusement as you rummaged through your purse to find the house key. “It’s too late now, Richard. I promise I’ll be there early tomorrow morning.”
Your oldest son groaned and you could practically hear him stomp his feet on the ground like a child throwing an ugly tantrum. “What if I told you I was dying from all the injuries I got on patrol?”
“Then I wouldn’t believe you.” You replied dryly before smiling triumphantly when you finally found that darned key.
You inserted the key into the keyhole and turned it. On a regular day, you wouldn’t have to do this as Alfred always somehow knew when you were outside the door, but you supposed he was busy today.
Dick sighed in defeat, “Fine, but be here by six. Come earlier if you have to, just not later.”
“Was that so hard to accept, baby bird?” You teased, turning the doorknob and pushing the door itself open.
“Bye, mom.” Dick chuckled, “Take care of yourself, all right?”
You walked inside the dim manor and nodded, even though you knew he couldn’t see you. “Always do. Now go get some sleep, Dick. I’ll be there before you even wake up.”
“Okay.” Dick murmured, “Love you, mom.”
You smiled softly, “I love you too, Dickie.”
With that you hung up the phone and closed the door behind you. After making sure it was locked, you walked into the kitchen and turned on the lights.
You placed your purse, phone, and keys on the counter before going over to the sink to wash your hands.
After that, you pulled your hair into a messy bun and rubbed your tired eyes.
“So Pennyworth was lying.” An unfamiliar voice said, scaring the living shit out of you. “He isn’t the only servant here after all.”
You gasped and immediately turned, only for your eyes to lock with with a pair of green ones. They somehow reminded you of something - or someone. If it hadn’t been for those differentiating irises, you would’ve though your husband had gotten himself de-aged.
“Who are you?” Was the first question you asked, slightly unnerved by how similar he looked to a younger Bruce.
“Father didn’t tell you?” Damian questioned, pursing him lips. You slowly shook your head. “Pennyworth must be his favorite servant then.”
“Alfred’s not a servant.” You said, defending the man you saw as your father. “And neither am I.”
The young boy scrunched up his nose, “Then what else can you be?”
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “Follow me, kid.” You said, “Your ‘father’ has a lot of things to explain.”
Normally, Damian would never let a stranger - and a woman who wasn’t his mother, no less - order him around, but by the tone of your voice, he knew better than to argue.
Down in the batcave, Bruce and Alfred were looking up at the screen that was showing Ra’s Al Ghul’s revival from the Lazarus Pit on a loop.
Bruce’s ears perked when he heard two sets of footsteps.
Alfred, who heard the footsteps as well, raised an eyebrow and continued to sip his tea. “It may seem that Miss Y/N is finally home from her night out with those loud friends of hers.”
“Girls’ night, Alfred.” You said, having been close enough to hear the older man’s words. "I don’t know why you hate calling it that so much.”
“She’s with Damian, isn’t she?” Bruce muttered.
“Why, yes I am, Bruce.” You said, reaching the last step with Damian following closely behind you.
“I can explain.” Your husband sighed, turning his chair around so that he could face you. He saw Damian peek out from behind you, looking quite curious and he couldn’t help but smile.
In the few hours that he knew about him, the boy never looked nor acted his age until now. It was your effect, there was no doubt about it in Bruce’s mind.
“Well, I—” You started, glancing at Damian before correcting, “we hope so. It’s the reason we came down here in the first place.”
The billionaire rested his eyes on you, only to see you look down at his son with a somewhat hidden maternal affection.
You couldn’t help it. He just looked so much like Bruce! If you and Bruce had ever had a son, Damian—as you now know was his name—was exactly how you’d imagined him to look like. Well, maybe except for the eyes. You personally always hoped your children would inherit Bruce’s.
“Y/N,” Bruce said, conflicted on how he should tell you. You knew all about what Talia had done to him all those years ago, and it was the main reason why you hated the woman so much. Rape was inexcusable to you, regardless of who did it. “This is Damian. Damian Wayne, my son.”
Even though you already suspected it, it still left you speechless to hear your husband declare those words out loud. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out.
“And Damian,” Bruce continued, “This is Y/N Wayne, my wife and your…stepmother.”
The awkward atmosphere didn’t go away even when Alfred announced that he was going back upstairs to fetch some more tea. In fact, it only made the it worse.
Your brain instinctively started working like some kind of motherboard as thoughts flooded your mind and different feelings constricted your chest. Confusion, wonder, and betrayal being the main ones you could identify.
You suddenly looked down and locked eyes with your husband’s son for the second time tonight. And suddenly it all clicked.
Your head snapped up, “He’s Talia’s, isn’t he? The day she—” You said, abruptly cutting yourself off.
He wasn’t afraid that you’d hate Damian. He knew you wouldn’t. You would never blame a parent’s sins on their child. It just wasn’t who you were.
You took in a deep breath and checked your watch. “We’ll discuss this in the morning.” You exhaled, "I have to wake up early tomorrow and I can’t deal with this right now.”
“I understand and I’m not asking you to,” Bruce said, standing up to walk closer to you and Damian.
You chuckled, noticing how wary he was. “This doesn’t change anything, you know that right?” You said, trying to assure whatever doubts he had. “I’m not blaming you or Damian for anything.”
Damian blinked, obviously not use to hearing such words.
“I know,” His father responded, cracking a genuine smile.
Damian tensed as a warm and delicate hand hesitantly touched his shoulder. “Has Alfred shown you your room yet, Damian?” You asked in a tone no one had ever spoken to him in.
He didn’t know what to say so he merely nodded.
You weren’t offended. It had taken some time for your other children to settle in as well. It would be foolish of you to think that Bruce’s biological son would be any different.
“Then how about I take you on a short tour around the manor? I’m quite the tour guide, you know.”
Damian reluctantly accepted, and you hoped Dick would understand if you happened to be late tomorrow.
yousharknotpass
romaincrisis
2087
germansingergirl
