A week dedicated to the ship of Batman (Bruce Wayne) x Talia Al Ghul! [NOTE: This account no longer hosts Brutalia Week. Please go follow @brutalweek for current updates!] (Click here to learn more)
A masquerade ball in Gotham City. Talia had rarely heard a more nonsensical idea.
It was understandable to a point, considering it's origin. A young Margaret Price Le Tellier, recent bride of one of the oldest Gotham families, had discovered that her new husband's family had used to host the most glamorous masquerade balls in New England, and decided to claim her place among the legacy of Le Tellier hostesses by renewing the tradition. It was just the sort of trite, foolish grandstanding one might expect from a young woman determined to impress her wealthy in-laws. Still, Talia was rather disappointed by the utter lack of regard for the dangers of such a scheme.
A masquerade ball. In Gotham. It was a wonder that no Arkham inmates had yet invaded.
Well. There were the two women taking shots at the bar. One was gowned as the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland, the other as a rose, with the stem as her bodice and red silk petals for her skirt. Their skins were just too perfectly pale and green to have been makeup, but they were causing no trouble to any but the bartender, so Talia had decided to let them be.
Besides, she was here to combat a far greater threat than two mad lovers.
Masquerades had a vile history, concealed by glitter and finery like just another face in the crowd. In this city, glamorous anonymity was an invitation to commit atrocities with impunity, and Talia knew that someone was there that night to take up that offer.
Unfortunately for them, she had also come ready to kill.
She wandered slowly through the crowded ballroom, sipping champagne as she observed the scene. Despite the foolhardiness of the party's theme, she would allow that the young Madame had carried it off stylishly. The electric lights had been yellowed to mimic candlelight, creating a dreamy effect as they glanced off the attendees' jewels and precious metals. An orchestra played in a loft high above, alternating between modern arrangements and old dance songs that would have been played here two centuries ago. Tapestries and banners and the antiquated furniture could almost trick one into believing they had stepped back in time to one of the very balls Le Tellier was trying to recreate.
The costumes could be considered another matter. While every -- or almost every -- guest wore an elaborate, formal mask, their garb varied from imitations of the baroque period to expensive-brand suits and designer ball gowns. A few people, for whom Talia could almost feel genuine, pitying embarrassment, wore Hallow's Eve costumes such as could be bought online for thirty or forty US dollars. Perhaps they meant it in jest.
Le Tellier had blessedly seen fit to request that her guests not costume themselves as the infamous villains of Gotham, but it appeared that vigilantes were permitted, as Talia had passed three Batmen and one Nightwing already, as well as dozens of children wearing Robin's red-yellow-green plumage. She wasn't certain whether to be amused or insulted on the real heroes' behalf. She was sure Damian would be quite put out, but the imitation might well be considered flattery by his brothers.
To her right was a unicorn, it's horn rising from a pearl-covered mask and it's tail a bustle of silver tulle at the back of a white dress. On her left was a jinn, with dozens of bronze armlets and a severely high ponytail. Just ahead was a lion, with a full-face mask and a ruff of dark gold fur.
Talia hid a smile behind her champagne glass as she passed Marie-Leandra Portsmouth, wearing a scandalously low azure gown and enough emeralds to sink a warship. Lest her identity as a peacock be lost on anyone, she had a full fanned tail of feathers fastened to her back, as well as a real fan of feathers, and more feathers behind the crown of her mask. If the woman was still trying to impress Bruce Wayne after twenty years, she had wasted her money. Again.
Talia slowed her pace as she passed between a snake charmer and a dragon, hearing a familiar laugh. She stepped not quite behind a pillar so that she could watch unseen by the group before her.
The laugh had come from a tall young man in a dark suit and black cloak. A white mask covered one side of his face only, conveniently the same side to which flopped his white-streaked bangs. Smiling up at him was a petite girl in a cream and white ballerina's tutu, a mask of swan feathers hiding the upper part of her face. With them was a pale woman with bloodred hair wearing tight leather pants with a corset and short ruffled skirt, her mask decorated with tiny gears and cogs.
"Did the idiot finally run?" Katherine Kane asked, bemused.
"No!" Jason Todd laughed. "The dumbass just kept staring at me, then he goes, 'You can't do that.' So I point out that I literally just did, and he says, 'But you can't do that!' I'm like, dude, have you been paying any attention whatsoever? I took out nine of your mooks in one go, do you seriously think I can't turn you into a grease spot?"
"So did you?" Kane prompted.
"Nah," Jason shrugged. "It's just mean when they're that dim. I handed him over to your girlfriend, and he was still complaining that I couldn't do what I just did."
Talia smiled, slipping away from the three as a group of fairies passed by, their wings providing the perfect cover. That was two of the children safely accounted for, and another ally should the need arise.
She continued winding through the ballroom, finishing her glass of champagne and swapping it for a full one when she next passed a waiter. Around her swirled satyrs, ghosts, kings and queens, mystical beasts, and figures of legend.
As Talia swept around the quieter edge of the room, she saw a small group sitting around a table, all chatting and laughing with one another. A woman with bright red-orange hair sat in a wheelchair, dressed as a mermaid with a tight green skirt that flared at her ankles and a purple top that seemed to be mostly lace. Close at her side was a man dressed as a prince, who carried himself almost with the air of one, too. His laugh was bright and charming, and his smile whenever it turned on the mermaid was radiant. With them also was a dark-skinned boy whose mask was more of an elaborate eye-patch, and whose clothes resembled the haphazard finery of seventeenth century pirates. A few other young people were with them -- a fawn, a metal man, and a veritable rainbow -- but none were connected to the family.
Two more children, one more ally. Still, the knot in Talia's stomach did not loosen. The four that she'd found were less likely to be the target of her mark than the two still missing.
She began searching in earnest, rather than wandering and observing. Her own child should have been fixed to Richard's side, and while it would be within his character to find a quieter spot, she wanted him close to his brothers, father, or sister.
She wove through a sea of mauve and puce, green and black, yellow and red, until she saw a small figure wearing nearly all of those colors.
Talia untensed a fraction, allowing herself a small smile as she recognized the Robin costume - the actual Robin costume, with only the mask changed to accommodate the dress code. She wondered how Damian had convinced his father to let him wear it, and how many weapons he had concealed in its folds.
She was less pleased by the fact that he was alone, so she carefully tracked him for several paces, scanning the room to be sure no one else was doing the same.
He headed toward the banquet table, ladling himself some of the children's punch and glancing around before pick pocketing two colorful mask-shaped sugar cookies. Talia wasn't sure if he was being sly because his siblings would tease him or because his father or eldest brother had (tried to) cut him off for the night.
He ate the cookies with a slight scowl, weaving through the adults on a trajectory which she could see was toward Richard, Barbara, and Duke. She watched until the latter waved at him, then moved on, search now focused to Timothy Drake-Wayne.
Former CEO of Wayne Enterprises, still high in its ranks, pushing all sorts of changes which those treasurers of tradition, wealth, and power despised. Charming and intelligent, the darling of the family since Richard had "thrown himself away." Legitimate son of two high-bred parents, and of European descent, though it incensed Talia that that fact increased the boy's "worth" to many of his father's peers.
In short, Timothy was exactly the profile that one of those peers would consider the most devastating loss to Bruce Wayne.
Bruce Wayne, who had recently rejected and exposed an underhanded business deal involving half a dozen companies who had all been shut down, gone bankrupt, or otherwise crippled by the fines and reforms that the courts had imposed.
The affair had made global news in many countries. Talia had seen it in a Paris newspaper on another mission, and immediately feared retaliation, the more so because of the extent of the public humiliation. It hadn't taken long for her to discover tonight's scheme. The little that was traceable, anyhow.
She prowled through the crowd, searching for Timothy's slight frame and dark hair, cursing the masks and costumes that caused her to constantly second-guess herself. If she passed by this vampire or that ghoul and didn't realize it was Timothy until he lay bleeding on the floor... The family might forgive her, but she would never forgive herself.
As she skirted the edge of the dance floor, a gloved hand extended to her and a low voice murmured, "May I?"
"Beloved," Talia greeted, turning to see his face.
She smiled despite her anxiety and added, "How original. I can see now the ways Damian takes after you."
Bruce Wayne grinned ruefully behind his dark Batman mask. "At least I'm not wearing the suit."
"No," she agreed. "This one is much more fetching anyhow."
She smiled a little wider as his face flushed, delighted - even in present circumstances - that she could still produce such an effect on the great, stoic Batman.
"Dance with me?" he invited, after floundering for a second, "Tell me what brought you here?"
She accepted his hand this time and let him lead her out, reminding herself that this was not the time to enjoy how close he was as he set his hand on her waist.
"Quite a scandal that occurred here last month," she murmured, keeping half her attention on the swirling merry-go-round surrounding her.
"Some people will do anything for money or power," Bruce muttered. "But small talk doesn't tell me why you're here. Not that I'm not glad to see you."
"This isn't small talk, darling," she said, turning her gaze back to him. "You've enraged many people with little morals and great sums of personal wealth outside their companies."
She could see the second his eyes changed from curiosity to worry.
"What do you know?"
"Arthur Irving--" Who had organized the whole deal and stood the most to gain... and lose "-- has managed to hire a mercenary using his wife to make contact from prison. The plan was to attack tonight, when the masks would confuse apprehension."
"Target and objective."
Bruce's face was tight, posture rigid in her arms. He spun her quickly, so she could get a better glimpse of the crowd. Turning heads, every face a different shade, none of them the people she was looking for. She spun back, stifling a sigh of worry.
"One of the children. I don't know which. ... Assassinate."
Bruce had gone as pale and hard as granite as soon as she'd said children. He fell completely motionless for a second at assassinate, before the other dancers forced them to move again. Talia could see his eyes darting about the crowd.
"Jason and Cassandra are with your cousin," she told him. "Richard, Duke, and Damian are all with Barbara, as well as other guests." Witnesses, that meant. "I fear most for Timothy, but I haven't located--"
"There," Bruce interrupted, nodding jerkily towards a corner of the dance floor and beginning to steer them towards it. "He's there. With Stephanie."
He spun her again so she could catch a glimpse. That was most certainly Timothy, who could have been at a business meeting but for his mask, laughing as a blonde girl in bright purple spun and dipped him.
That was all of the children accounted for, but not permanently, and not safely until Talia could locate and apprehend the would-be assassin. She had half a mind to suggest, now that Bruce was aware of everything, that he quietly gather his children and take them home. But with the payment that Talia had discovered wired from the Irvings to a false ID, the assassin surely had a backup plan for the event of his target's early departure.
"What was your plan?" Bruce demanded.
Talia couldn't be offended by his curt tone. Perhaps her worry for the children could never quite equal his, but it was close.
"Ensure the children are as safely placed as possible, accomplished. Locate and remove the assassin, in progress. I have found no real identification, but he is male, about fifty, Caucasian, dark hair and eyes."
Capable of fooling anyone who'd ever known him in this crowd of lies.
"The kids need to know. I want them watching each other closer."
Talia didn't disagree. She just cautioned, "If he observes any change, he could react dangerously."
Bruce nodded tightly. He was still dancing, motions robotic, but his eyes were glazed over behind an imaginary battlefield. He'd clenched his jaw so tight a muscle was pulsing.
"I can text the kids instructions. He won't be able to see them all check their phones at once."
Talia nodded. Bruce led her off the floor, gripping her hand almost painfully tight. He only let go to get out his phone.
Bruce: hawk in the area, he typed. likely target Tim.
He sent it to all of the children, plus Barbara and Stephanie. Separately he texted Kane and Jim Gordon.
Bruce: Watch the kids. Trouble.
Bruce: Just got a tip-off. Someone at the gala out for the kids, likely target Tim. The kids all know.
He added the description she'd given him to each conversation. Replies had already started coming in.
Kate: ok. With jay and cass rn
Jim Gordon: looking into it. Forward any info.
Bruce passed Talia the phone, saying, "Tell him everything you know, fuck covers."
"Beloved." She forced him to make eye contact with her. "Every one of us is working to combat the threat. The children will be alright."
He shook his head jerkily, shoving the hand with the phone closer to her. She stifled her sigh and began typing out further information for Gordon, letting him know motive, accomplices, and all the details she knew for certain, as well as her guesses and reasoning. The children were bombarding the phone with replies.
Dick: whos got eyes on him?
Stephanie: me
Tim: well shit
Damian: acknowledged
Jason: the whole fucking ballroom fits that description
Stephanie: should we leave?
Talia paused her draft long enough to tell Stephanie no.
Stephanie: k
Barbara: give me something to work with, bruce!
Duke: plan??
Dick: stay together. Is anyone alone?
Jason: with cass and kate
Tim: as stated, with steph
Dick: duke and dami are with me and babs
Jason: good
Cass: get all together??
Talia finished her message and sent it to Gordon, then copy-pasted it to Kane and the children's group chat before passing the phone back to Bruce. He grunted and nodded, immediately typing away himself.
Bruce: Barbara, work with that info. Collaborate with Jim.
Barbara: on it
Jason: im gonna fucking kill Irving
Tim: so we're positive its me?
Bruce: Not 100%. Everyone on guard.
Tim: rip
Dick: tim No
Talia glanced around, spotting Tim and Stephanie coming towards Bruce and herself. Tim was looking at his phone while Stephanie was alert, guiding him by the hand.
Tim: f u dick its my funeral
Bruce: Timothy Jackson do not ever joke like that again.
Tim: sorry
Bruce: Cass, everyone together is too suspicious. We cannot risk him knowing we are aware.
Cass: ok
"Hi, B. Hey, Talia."
Timothy looked shockingly calm for someone aware his very life was being threatened. Stephanie looked far more afraid, but was hiding it admirably.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"Hunting the hawk."
Tim: dami ur moms here
Damian: is this the time Timothy?
Tim: im not dumb enough to make ur mom jokes about ur mom
Tim: i meant she's here tryna save my life
Stephanie: everyone whos not B stfu ok
Bruce: is someone sharing this with kate?
Jason: she's looking @ my phone
Jason: hi
Bruce: Duke, Damian, stay right where you are with Barbara.
Damian: acknowledged
Duke: k
Bruce: Kate, join them. Jason, Cass, go with her and bring Dick here.
Jason: roger roger
Cass: 👍
Talia kept one hand on Bruce's arm but her eyes on the ballroom. The tenseness of their little unit would surely attract attention, but at least it was warning away ignorant party-goers.
Stephanie held her phone up, appearing to be preening herself in the selfie camera, but her eyes darted from one mirrored figure to another. Talia silently applauded the ingenuity of the strategy. Tim grabbed a champagne from a passing waiter and downed it in one large gulp.
"Was that entirely wise?" Bruce muttered.
"For my nerves."
Barbara: assholes aren't leaving e-tracks. Need my full set-up
Bruce: no i want you here. If you can't make progress let jim handle it and focus on observation/defense
Barbara: alright.
Jason: ok dropping kate grabbing dick. Where r u
Tim: wow jay, at a time like this?
Jason: you shut the fuck up and get your brain out of the goddamn gutter, child
Bruce: boys. Stop.
Stephanie: northeast of dance floor
Dick: i see you
Turning, Talia could just see two dark heads, one with a streak of white, pushing their way through the crowd. No one seemed to be paying them any undue attention, but it was impossible to tell for sure.
"Are you alright, Tim?" Bruce asked, voice going soft.
Tim gave a quick shrug. "I'm not dead yet."
Stephanie smacked him. "I'll kill you myself if you don't cut it out."
Tim stuck his tongue out at her, rubbing his arm. Bruce set a white-knuckled hand on his shoulder. Talia didn't know who he was trying to comfort.
"Tim!" Richard breathed just behind her. He darted forward and swept Tim into an embrace, kissing the top of his head. "Thank God, kiddo."
"We passed about ten guys who fit the description," Jason growled. "I don't think any had weapons, but it's damned hard to tell."
"Think they were safe," Cassandra said. "Or hid too well."
Bruce nodded to them. "Talia and I will split up and cover the ballroom, but continue to send all possibilities in the chat. Even if you think you've found him, do not engage, just track and contact us. Tim, set up a new chat with everyone in it, and tell the others what we're doing now."
Tim nodded and unlocked his phone.
"Dick, Cass, I want you both with Tim at all times, and keep moving. Don't stay still long enough for him to come close or line up a shot. Jason, you're with Steph. Move as much as you can, try to keep an eye on Tim and others."
They all nodded. Talia felt her phone buzz in her pocket, and glanced at Tim's message.
Tim: t and b are going hunting. im with c and D, j's with s. all possible hawk sightings report here, dne
Tim: t means talia not me lol
"L-O-L at a time like, this, Tim?" Dick groaned.
Bruce: i want one and only one of you in each group manning comms. everyone else, eyes up.
Tim: cool ill be team screenager
Damian: i have been voted to the position
Stephanie: NO spamming the chat, u 2
Tim: NO promises
"Timothy."
Both Bruce and Dick leveled Tim with a glare so firm he flinched.
Tim: ok ok promises
Bruce met eyes with Talia. She nodded and slipped back into the crowd, hearing his last words to the children.
"Watch each other's backs. Be careful."
Talia headed in the direction Richard, Jason, and Cassandra had just come from, hoping to get a glimpse of the possible hawks herself. Cassandra's judgement was dependable, but not flawless. A probably safe wasn't good enough.
Barbara messaged the chat to say she'd tracked down a list of all Le Tellier's invitees, and was going through each name to check first descriptions, then backgrounds. It was by no means a direct thread to the assassin, but she could give them a sense of how many men were suspect, and perhaps match a few of them to the costumes and masks they wore. Bruce thanked her, and Tim mentioned one man he knew personally that matched the description, but was certainly not the assassin.
Talia added that she'd been able to confirm three of Cassandra's safe men, then returned her phone to her pocket, turning towards the banquet table. It would be idiotic for the assassin to poison the food that was left for anyone, but he could conceivably be watching the line for Tim or another of the children in order to follow them and poison their plate or cup once their attention was turned.
She moved slowly, taking a few small finger foods every so often to justify her presence and pace. Four men along her route matched the general description, but had the wrong faces. She took pictures and sent them along to help Barbara narrow down the search. Bruce, and a few minutes later Tim and Damian, began doing the same. Talia checked over each of the images. The masks made identification difficult, so she categorized her answers as no and unlikely.
She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or terrified that she hadn't yet said yes.
Her phone was in her hand constantly now, the flurry of communication making it a greater hassle to stow it in her pocket than to carry it. It buzzed several times in succession, and Talia opened the chat in a panic.
Bruce: Barbara, make sure to check staff as well
Bruce: Kids, report
Tim: stayin' alive
Damian: Clear.
Jason: all quiet
She breathed out a sigh of relief.
And then a gunshot split the air, followed by a woman's scream.
Talia raced toward the sound, one hand grabbing for the knife at her waist, the other clenched tight around the phone that was now exploding with alerts. Dozens of voices now were screaming and shouting, and a great mass swelled back towards her from near the dance floor. As she drew closer she could make out Stephanie's voice.
"Somebody call EMS! Is anyone here a doctor? Oh, God..."
She broke through the line of people into a ring of empty space. In its center knelt Stephanie, dress soaking through with blood, hands scarlet as she pressed them against the gushing wound in Jason's chest.
Jason.
"Jason!"
Her beloved's tortured cry broke through the static filling her brain. As he dropped down at Jason's side, she blinked and finally processed the way her son lay, the location of the wound, the angle of the shot.
Her eyes rose to the loft, where the orchestra had stopped playing and a shadow darted for the stairwell.
Talia ran, past Bruce, Stephanie, and Jason, into the crowd on the other side of the ring, shoving and pushing until they parted for her. She dropped her phone to hike up her skirts and gain speed, ignoring the pale faces and confused cries from the table where Duke and Damian were still blessedly safe with Kane and Barbara. Her pulse pounded in her ears.
The stairs the assassin took would lead to a servant's passage. Another stairway just outside the ballroom would lead up to that passage.
He will pay.
No one noticed her leaving through the side door. She ripped open each door in the hallway, unwilling to chance missing the stairs. She found them behind the third to the left and started up, kicking off her heels in a second to ascend soundlessly.
He wouldn't know what struck him until it was too late.
She heard her target's footsteps as she neared the top of the stairs. He wasn't running.
It wouldn't have done him any good.
With no mask, Talia could see the split second of shock on the assassin's face when he saw her.
She could see it change to agony as she stabbed her knife into his chest and twisted.
She could see it turn slack as she pulled the blade free and stepped aside, letting the corpse tumble down the stairs, becoming a broken heap in a pool of blood.
Talia descended slowly, minding the trail of red to keep her skirts and bare feet clean. She wiped the bloody knife on the corpse's shirt before stowing it back beneath her bodice.
"Receive no rest." She hissed the death-curse in her own tongue. "Receive no peace. Reap only the sorrow you have sown. May the gods see it so."
She stared down at the body another moment, wild heartbeat calming.
He'd died too quickly. Too easily. How could this pathetic mercenary have the power to cut down a man as strong as Jason?
Jason.
Jason lay dying right now, and her vengeance would not save him.
Talia fell back a step, then two, then turned and hurried back down the corridor, slipping her shoes back on her feet.
She heard sirens as she reached the ballroom, and a lot of shouting although the screams had ended. She ran back towards where she had left Jason, Bruce, and Stephanie, the crowd parting for her with only the slightest push.
She reached the spot to see EMTs lifting Jason onto a gurney. He was far too pale. Eyes closed and body limp.
They started taking him away, Bruce hurrying after them, one hand gripping Jason's so tight his knuckles were as white as the boy's face. Talia started after them before her steps faltered.
She wasn't his mother. They wouldn't let her come.
Only when they were gone from sight did Talia register the sobbing and the small form pressing against her side. She blinked and looked down, seeing Damian staring up at her, mask gone and eyes teary and frightened, fist clutching her skirts.
"La yastatie 'an yamuta," he whispered.
Talia pulled off her own mask as she crouched, pulling Damian close and pressing a kiss to his hair.
"Your brother is strong," she murmured. "He will survive this."
She prayed it wasn't a lie.
She straightened, looking around herself to see the rest of her beloved's children. Stephanie and Richard were weeping openly, staring at the blood on the floor. Barbara was fighting her own tears, biting her lip as she clutched Richard's hand. Duke was staring after his father and brother, not seeming to feel Kane's arm around his shoulders. Cassandra had her face hidden against Richard's chest.
Tim's breath hitched as he stared at the place where Jason had fallen. A single tear leaked out as he whispered, "But it was supposed to be me."
"Children." Her voice wavered only a little. "There's nothing we can do here. Come, I'll take you to the hospital to join your father."
"I'll drive anyone you can't fit," Kane offered softly.
Talia nodded to her and reached out a hand to Tim. He didn't take it, but did let her draw him to her side. She kissed his forehead, chest tightening at the way his face crumpled.
"It is not your fault," she told him. "We guessed wrong. Do not wish it were otherwise."
He sobbed, pressing closer. She lifted her gaze, counting silently, and spoke to Kane more than the other children. "I can take two more."
"I can fit Bab's wheelchair better," Kane said, nudging Duke towards Talia. "So I'll take that huddle."
Talia nodded and called to Stephanie. She came silently, still weeping. Duke wrapped an arm around her shoulders, but she pulled away.
The crowd parted, letting Talia shepherd the children away. She could hear Kane speaking softly to the other three behind her.
Damian kept hold of her skirts the whole walk to the car. She rested one arm around his shoulders, the other around Tim's. Every few steps, she glanced back to be sure Stephanie and Duke were still following.
She let go of the boys to unlock the car, allowing them to seat themselves as they would. Damian slid into the passenger seat, and Tim and Duke surrounded Stephanie in the back.
The ride was silent except for when Talia asked Damian to alert Alfred to what had happened, and ask if he would bring the children fresh clothes. Her eyes found Stephanie as she made the request. Being covered in Jason's blood could do nothing to comfort her.
The emergency room secretary stared for a moment when she saw Talia and the children all in party clothes, Stephanie's gown stained red, but her shock turned to sympathy as soon as Tim asked about Jason.
"Trauma center is third floor on the left," she said gently. "I'm sure your father is already up there."
A few more tears spilled from each of the children at the words trauma center. Talia thanked the woman and herded the children towards the elevator, relieved to find it empty.
One floor, then two, Talia regretting that she couldn't embrace all four children at once. Being directed to this ward only showed that Jason had still been alive when he'd arrived here. Not that he couldn't still die.
They turned left, and after a minute the hallway let out into a cold, sterile waiting area, empty but for a single man holding his head in his hands.
"Father!"
Damian broke away from Talia's side, and Bruce just raised his head in time to catch their son in his arms. Tim followed, crying harder, and Duke joined them slowly, but Stephanie hung back, even behind Talia.
"Father--"
"Dad--"
"-- is Jason--"
"-- do they think he's gonna make it?"
Bruce's eyes were red and shiny even as he forced a smile for his children. He had Damian pressed to his side; one hand held Duke's, the other cupped Tim's face.
"Jason's still alive."
A few sobs.
"They're pretty sure the bullet missed his heart and lungs, but they can't tell yet what all was damaged. That's as much as I know right now."
He looked up, seeing Talia and, "Steph."
Stephanie wailed.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't see it, I heard the shot, but I didn't even think that Jason..."
"Steph, it's alright--"
"I wasn't looking at all, I didn't even know until he fell and--"
"Stephanie." Bruce stood and crossed the distance, setting his hands on her shoulders and refusing to let her pull away. "It was not your fault. You did everything right based on the information you had. As soon as you realized what happened, you did exactly the right thing. Without you there to put pressure on the wound, he could have bled out before help arrived. You saved his life, Steph."
She bowed her head against Bruce's chest, still sobbing. She clenched her skirt in both fists. Bruce held her close and whispered, "Thank you."
Four sets of footsteps and hum of wheels down the hall announced the arrival of Kane, Barbara, Dick, and Cassandra, and Alfred as well, who carried two large totes of clothing. Talia intercepted him as the flurry of questions began again, and quietly asked for the bag with Stephanie's things.
As he handed it over, he murmured, "The villain?"
"Dead."
He met her stare for a moment and nodded. She tapped Stephanie's shoulder as the newcomers swarmed Bruce and said, "Come. Let's get you cleaned up."
Stephanie followed mutely as Talia led her to the family restroom down the hall. She turned sharply away from the mirror, but let Talia unzip the back of her dress and help her out of it. Talia turned away and folded the garment carefully, hiding the drying blood from view. She heard running water from the sink, then a sob.
Stephanie seemed frozen, staring at her blood-crusted hands as the water ran, crying harder every second.
Talia shut off the water and took Stephanie's hands in her own.
"Steph." She didn't look up, but she didn't pull away either. "This blood is not a curse. It is a blessing to Jason, because it shows that you fought to keep him alive. You have done for him what even I could not."
Stephanie did look up then, disbelieving.
"You prioritized life while I prioritized vengeance. It is thanks to your actions that Jason is still here."
"But how long is that gonna last?"
Talia sighed, drawing Stephanie into an embrace she didn't fight. "I don't know. But I am grateful that you have given it a chance to last a lifetime."
There were tears on Talia's own face when she glanced in the mirror. She lifted a hand to brush them away, and Stephanie pulled back, taking a deep, shuddering breath.
"Thanks," she muttered.
"Of course."
Talia brushed away the last of Stephanie's tears and stepped outside to let her change. When she emerged, hands scrubbed clean and dressed in a soft sweater and leggings, she looked more centered.
They passed the boys on the way back to the waiting room, and handed off the tote to Cassandra, Barbara, and Kane so they could change. There was no more news of Jason, but Bruce said that Gordon had called.
"Montoya and Ramirez found the assassin dead in a back stairwell. Stab wound."
Bruce looked right at her. Unblinking, she said, "Better than he deserved."
He nodded slowly. "They've found no leads. Jim said it'll be a cold case in a few days."
Wise man.
"He's sending agents to arrest Irving's wife. They've got enough evidence to convict both her and Arthur. The charge will depend on if Jason... pulls through."
"He will."
Bruce's face pinched. Talia stepped close, taking his hands in her own. She waited until he met her gaze.
"This is not Magdala Valley," she murmured. "This time there is help. This time he will live."
He let her see it then. The fear and grief he would not show in front of his children. His grip on her hands became painfully tight. His face screwed up with suppressed tears.
"It's bad, Talia. I..."
She squeezed his hands gently, leaning down to rest her forehead on his.
"If I must bargain with the Fates," she swore, "he will not die."
She heard the footsteps of the other children just as he did. Instantly he pulled a mask of calm and courage back over his face. She started to pull away, intending to go. She could no more here. But Bruce clutched her hands and whispered, "Stay."
She met his eyes again, seeing the shred of panic he could never quite hide. Slowly she nodded. "Very well."
Thanks for reading this far! If you want to check out more batfam stories from me, head on over to my ao3, sardonic_sprite !
It is now two days after the last day of BruTalia Week, meaning that even the most last-minute contributions from the latest of timezones (aside from genuinely late ones) should be posted now, plus some. This unfortunately means that this event is officially over for the year.
But of course, we are still left with tons of gorgeous content to re-read, look back at, or admire even afterwards! Thank you so much to everyone who wrote, drew, or edited up something for the week! All of the works have been absolutely wonderful, and I've been very pleasantly surprised by how many participants we got. It has definitely grown from last year, a trend which will hopefully continue to the year after.
Aside from those appreciations, though, the main thing this post is being made to address is the following:
We need to talk about late submissions!
In general, these will be allowed up to 6 months (really anything under 7 will be accepted) after today, so there's no need to rush. The protocol does change between ones posted during the week and late ones, though.
On Tumblr: I will not be checking #brutaliaweek2022 after this. For this reason, in order for me to see your post, you'll have to either tag/@ this blog (that can mean either in the actual text or the replies, whatever works for you) or directly message it. You are also welcome to do both, assuming you are respectful and patient in the messages.
On Ao3: The collection will be open until the end of August. Feel free to add your late work to it as normal during that time, but if you don't get it finished until September or later, you are going to have to contact me in some way to let your work in. That preferably means messaging this blog, but if that doesn't work for you, sending an ask (if on anon, please at least state your Ao3 user) or dming on discord (Baticorngirl #5309) are also options.
Going along with all that, if there were any on-time submissions I missed, please let me know!
I believe that sums it up. This has been an amazing BruTalia week filled with even more amazing fanwork-creators, but until next year, farewell!
➳ brutalia day seven: unexpected pregnancy | free space
➳ .5k | rated g | m.list
Bruce rolled his neck as he climbed the stairs from the Batcave, relieved to be done for the night. He wanted nothing more than to crash into his bed and sleep forever. Or, well, for the next five hours, considering he had a W.E meeting the next day. Either way, he was ready to sleep.
On his way to his room, Bruce peeked into all of his children’s, making sure they were asleep and okay. It was a nightly habit, one he wouldn’t give up on any time soon. Snorting a little at Cass’ ungainly sleeping position, Bruce pulled her door shut once more, careful to be quiet. He really should give Alfred a raise, as without him and his maintaining of the house, the door would have definitely squeaked.
Pushing the door to his room open, Bruce paused. There was someone in his bed.
Well, he had just checked on all of the kids, so unless Dick or Jason had come home for the night instead of staying in their own apartments, this was an intruder.
Creeping closer, on high alert, Bruce slowly moved the blanket covering the intruder’s face aside, freezing. Well, out of everyone he could have imagined this being (and the list was very, very short) Talia had not been on it.
Bruce stared at her for a long moment. Was he imagining this? Did he hit his head on patrol?
Should he wake her up?
Bruce knew he needed answers. Taking a few steps back in case he startled her into pulling a weapon, Bruce called out her name.
Talia shifted, but eventually awoke, looking around slowly.
“Talia, why are you here?” Bruce asked and Talia sat up somewhat, rubbing her eyes.
“Oh, Beloved. You’re back.”
“I am,” Bruce agreed. “And I’m wondering what you’re doing in my bed.”
Talia chuckled. “I was crashing and needed a safe space. Hopefully, you don’t mind too much.” Bruce wouldn’t say anything, even if he did, something she definitely knew and was taking advantage of.
“What if one of the kids had found you?”
“They did not,” Talia replied simply. “Now, are you going to sleep or not? I, for one, would very much like to rest for as long as I can.”
Bruce had forgotten how futile arguing with her could be. “Fine,” he said, crossing over to the other side of the bed. “I’m exhausted.”
“Yes, I can tell.” Talia really wasn’t sparing his feelings tonight, was she? “Goodnight, Beloved.”
“Goodnight, Talia,” Bruce said, making sure his alarm was set for the next morning. “We will be talking more about this tomorrow.”
“Whatever you say, dear,” Talia murmured, already falling back asleep, either unaware or uncaring of the effects her words had on him. They both knew she’d most likely be gone in the morning when he awoke.
leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own
➳ brutalia day six: childhood friends au | bruce needs/gets a hug
➳ .4k | rated t | m.list
Bruce lets out a shuddering breath, looking down at Damian’s still form. His son s hooked up to all sorts of machines and monitors, and though he’s been stabilized, Bruce can’t calm down.
His son had almost died, and he-
Swallowing hard, Bruce gently runs his hand through Damian’s hair. Damian is still under his touch, which, while expected, is still hard to see firsthand.
Bruce is saved from spiraling and more by the sound of footsteps behind him.
“How is he?” Talia asks, and Bruce moves aside to let her get nearer to him. He had called her immediately after Damian had gone down, and thankfully, she was in the area and able to get to the hospital quickly.
“Stable,” Bruce whispers, unable to speak any louder. “The doctor said he’ll be alright.”
Talia places her hand on Damian’s arm, careful not to jostle any of his injuries, and just takes him in. “How are you?”
When Bruce doesn’t reply, she turns to him.
“I’m…” Bruce struggles for the words. “He almost died, Talia.”
“I know,” Talia says. “You got to him in time through, and now he’ll heal.”
“It was too close,” Bruce says hallowly. “If I had-”
“There a million choices that could have been made to prevent this, but also a million more that could have made the situation much, much worse.” Talia pinned him with her heavy gaze. “You did all that you could, Bruce. And it was more than enough.”
“I should have never allowed there to be a Robin,” Bruce says, shaking his head. It’s a mantra he repeats every time one of his kids is hurt. Every time.
“Oh, Bruce.” Talia pulls him into a hug, and Bruce is so surprised he lets her. He can’t remember the last time they hugged. Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul were a decidedly non-tactile couple when they’d been together, and after they split, there’d been no reason to hug.
He can’t deny it's comforting. As he lets himself be soothed, Bruce keeps his eyes on Damian. Your son is alive, he tells himself, verging on viciously, and that’s more than enough.
Talia says nothing, even though he knows she senses his inner turmoil, and for once, Bruce just lets himself fall apart, knowing she’s strong enough to catch all of the pieces.
leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own.
➳ brutalia day five: bodyguard | “i want my beloved to be happy”
➳ .6k | rated t | m.list
Bruce wasn’t expecting to see a text from Talia, especially one that read Arriving in ten. Be there.
Especially since he didn’t see it until seven minutes after it had been delivered. Rushing back down to the Batcave, Bruce wondered what she was doing in Gotham, much less with him. They hadn’t spoken in God knows how long.
He just managed to get to the Batcomputor console when it alerted him that there was an unauthorized presence on the premises. Quickly disabling the defense systems, Bruce opened the Cave’s door, allowing a small aircraft to enter, smoothly and without hesitation. It was odd that she was visiting him, yes, but even odder that she had done it in such an indiscreet way. He wasn’t worried; more concerned, a little wary.
When the engine cut, the silence seemed to echo. Bruce waited, arms crossed, and it took but a moment for the food to hiss open, revealing Talia.
“Talia, what is this about?” Bruce asked, moving forward to meet her. Talia looked more tired than he remembered, and he hoped everything was going alright back at Nanda Parbat.
“Bruce, you must promise to keep an open mind,” Talia said, and Bruce knew it was serious. Talia reserved his name for the worst situations.
“What?” Bruce asked, confusion clear in his voice. “Talia, what is-”
“Trust me.” Talia’s eyes were a bit wild and instinctively, he leaned back.
“You know I do already,” Bruce said, a bit slowly. “Please, explain.”
“It’s better if I show you.” Talia turns, back towards the vehicle, and calls for someone to come out. Bruce waits, unable to imagine who - or what - awaited him.
Two figures descended the ramp, and Bruce froze. On the left was a small boy, clearly Talia’s, but Bruce recognizes himself in there as well, and on the right-
“Jason?” Bruce gasps, staggering towards his son. “Impossible!”
Jason rushed forward to him, throwing himself into Bruce’s arms. Bruce caught him, sinking to his knees. The other child stayed where he was, hesitation clear in his stance. After a long moment, Bruce pulled back from Jason, in order to look in his eyes. His eyes that were now a sickly green.
“Talia,” Bruce repeated, voice wavering, “what did you do?”
“Jason?” Talia prompted, and in his arms, Jason shuddered.
“I crawled out of my grave,” Jason said, and Bruce’s mouth fell open. His words are toneless, but Bruce can tell when his boy is hurting. “And was picked up by the League. But my injuries and brain damage were so severe that Ra’s was going to get rid of me, so Talia put me in…”
“The pit,” Bruce finished hallowly. “Oh my God. How did you come back to life?”
“Nobody knows,” Talia answered, moving forward to put a hand on his shoulder. Bruce hugged Jason for a few more minutes, in absolute disbelief, before turning his attention to the other boy, hard as it was.
“And you?” Bruce managed. “What’s your name.”
“Damian al Ghul. I mean, Wayne.” The boy - Damian - said stiffly, and Bruce motioned him forward. He didn’t want to let got of Jason, instead shaking Damian’s hand over Jason’s shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you, Father.”
Father. He had seen the evidence of it, but to hear it come out of Damian’s mouth… it was surreal.
“Talia,” he said. “Why bring them to me? Why now?”
“Because,” Talia replied, something almost broken in her voice, “I just want my beloved to be happy.”
There was obviously more to it than that, but for Bruce, it was enough for the time being.
leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own
Down the Rabbit Hole (And Climbing Back Out Again)
Rating: General Audiences
Fandom: Batman/DC
Relationship(s): Talia al Ghul/Bruce Wayne, Ra's al Ghul & Talia al Ghul (Heavily Mentioned),
Characters: Talia al Ghul, Bruce Wayne, Ra's al Ghul (Heavily Mentioned)
Word Count: 3,701
Summary:
After enough times of constant betrayal, Ra's got fed up and in a heated argument, told Talia he was going to disown her.
Now, she stands just out the backdoor of Wayne Manor, contemplating how, after all the times of him taking her back without question, she was supposed to respond to this. At least, with her Beloved standing behind her quietly, she is not completely alone.
(For @brutalia-week, Day 4: Talia Needs/Gets A Hug)
Click here to read on Ao3 instead (which also has an A/N)
Click here to read Day 3
Click here to read Day 2
Click here to read Day 1
Bruce gazed at her softly. The muscles in his face were loose, dragging downward in a sympathetic expression, and his arms swayed back and forth. Despite a clear focus on her, his eyes were much less than fixated; they jumped back and forth from a reserved look to her, and an awkward peek to the ground. Nonetheless, he lifted his hand upwards and out towards her, just barely missing the back edge of her shoulder.
Talia's knees stumbled as she stood a few feet in front of him. His eyes widened as he observed their jitters and shakes, as well as the loud breaths she puffed into the air at the front. Aside from the shaking, though, her body didn't move a millimeter. The paralysis of her actions came off eerie, as if she was only a tranquil ghost, patiently haunting the manor's back porch. On the other side, her eyes stared downward, to the back of the bench in front of her and the intricate woodwork throughout it. They blinked constantly but slowly, leaving each blink to last disturbingly long, only for another lengthy blink to begin again right after.
"I have no more than a few scratches," she muttered monotonously, her throat dry and sore from dehydration.
"That's… good," he remarked.
Then, the conversation ended— paused, at least, with neither having adequate words in their head to continue it. Bruce's eyes remained restless; their bouncing began to extend from just a two-way ping-pong, to an entire hockey game of chaotic darting. His arm, on the other hand, had swiftly dropped in contrastingly-still defeat. Meanwhile, Talia prevailed in stillness in all regards. Her own arms appeared like popsicle sticks, glued to her sides so unnaturally, and her shoulders were fixed in an upwards shrug. The more this went one, the more her body felt exhaustion take over those areas, but the prospect of moving them from the positions only made her more mentally fatigued.
Fortunately for her, Bruce's attempts to restart conversation served as a decent distraction from these aches. He picked his arm back up, though at much lower degree than before, and held it in the air.
"That… that wasn't what I meant," he corrected, slow and careful with each word. "I didn't… didn't mean physically okay, I meant–"
"I know what you meant," she said, quickly and shortly.
But then, her mouth closed again. His eyes slowed at her words, yet only slightly; his eyes glazed up and down her entire body. Bruce's mouth slitted open, as well, and hung there, no words managing to slip out. His arm lowered an inch, and then continued resting in the bland, humid summer air. It had begun to grow tired now; the exhaustion didn't even compare to Talia's own, though, not just in her arms, but in the deep tissues of her torso. A raging fear silently burned in her chest with each and every slow breath. Bruce felt a minor burning sensation in his own heart just seeing the small tints of body language from hers.
"Then what is your answer?" he finally asked. "To that question?"
Talia opened her mouth, but in comparison to the timing of that action, her spoken answer was significantly delayed. "I… have elected not to answer it."
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Have you, now?"
"It's trivial," she explained, letting her body somehow get even stiller than before, and her voice even softer. "You already know the answer, don't you?"
Bruce swallowed, smoothing his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He felt the bumpy texture of it crawl under the sharp ends of his teeth, and the disconcerting tingle made him shudder. In that shudder, his shoulders flinched upwards, their muscles abruptly tightening. He forced them down, though, as he did the same with his startled eyebrows. Yet, eventually, his chin ducked in a crisp nod, followed by a reluctant grunt.
Talia took a deep breath, as much as her chest still ached. Her own chin bounded upwards in an opposite movement to Bruce's, with her eyes finally lifting from the ground. The sunlight, barely peeking through dark clouds, bounced off her eyes. It made them blink rapidly in protection, but Talia held her chin up despite it. The sun simply made them rest partway-shut, hardly changed at all from when nothing but her own emotions weighed them down.
"Whenever I consider whether to ask you if you are okay," she explained, her voice having not strayed much from the original monotone, "I always look to the same thing— your eyes, Beloved. Eyes, the windows into the soul… and I look at them, their sharpness or their softness, and I realize quite quickly that the answer to my own question is obvious. I realize those eyes tell more truth than any answer would've ever done."
"But what if I cannot see your eyes?" Bruce asked pointedly. "You're turned away from me, Talia."
She considered this point for a moment, and her eyelids lowered even more. The most abrupt motion was certainly her head, though, which tilted to the left in thought. Her tongue did a similar action to what Bruce's had a mere second earlier; licking the insides of her mouth, sweeping it against the bottoms of her sharp teeths until it stung. She clenched her hands tightly, getting tighter each second until they abruptly let go, and simultaneously, she answered.
"Oh, Beloved…" Talia called backwards, thought still not turning her head in the slightest. "I am not you, am I? I am not a mystery. I never have been. A person doesn't need any mythical soul-seeing abilities to read me like an open book. You, at least, shouldn't."
"Hmmph," he grumbled, neglecting to answer further.
"You can tell, can't you?" she asked him. "The answer to your question."
"Per…. haps," he finally spoke.
Now, Bruce took a few steps closer to her, cautiously listening to the sound of his own footsteps. He diffiented the sound of his toe and heel, as if testing the strides before he fully took them. Most of all, he watched Talia's reaction to the sounds; she stayed completely and utterly still the entire time, holding back any natural quivering even just from the general situation. Hence, Bruce continued, doing this for each and every step until he'd reached the position of a mere half-a-foot from her back.
He took a deep breath, and then gushed it out, landing the air waves right on to the back of her neck. The sensation made Talia visibly lurch another few inches away. In return, Bruce stammered backwards, increasingly uncomfortable and self-conscious. In the end, though, he still found himself standing less than half the distance of before.
"Tell me, Talia," he let his voice raise a tint. "If you are such an open book type of person, why must you neglect to answer my simple question? Why do you avoid it?"
She bit her lip. "Surely, being such a quiet, reserved person yourself, you can understand that there are some things which are simply best left unsaid."
Bruce looked over Talia's head and peered off into the distance, his eyes getting wider the more he stared. This went for a few seconds before his eyes swerved backwards, back down to her. He reached over, this time fully, and grabbed the side of her shoulder, nudging her around to look at him. His grasp was very gentle and non-forcing, but it was firm and urging nevertheless.
"If it is best not spoken, then simply allow me to get my answer visually," he requested as he nudged. "I already know the answer from knowing you, but I must read your eyes to know to what extent, if you will allow me to."
Talia nodded, and without hesitation, she twisted her head around until he could see a single one of her eyes. The cheek underneath was absolutely soaked in tears, glossy and damp in appearance. The whites of her eyes were a bright pink, tinted by the redness and swelling of relentless crying. Bruce's lungs fell in his chest the moment he saw all of it; the wet mess of her face absolutely broke his heart, leaving him wide-eyed and wide-mouthed at the situation.
"Talia…"
She fully spun around now, and loudly sighed, letting a million shaky gushes of air out at once. It made her lungs surge up again in a quiet hiccup, which she let out almost instantly after the sigh. The skin near her shoulders was freezing cold to Bruce's touch, as if her body had simply become too exhausted to keep pumping out heat. Similar to the still stance, this aspect was nearly as eerie as touching a surreal ghost. But this ghost heaved undeniably human, imperfect breaths, and let big, lumpy tears roll down her cheeks.
"I'm just a little startled, that's all," she admitted. "A bit shaken up."
"Clearly," Bruce commented.
He now lifted his hand from her shoulder, and rested it on and around her cheek; her skin felt squishy yet slightly rough against his fingers. More tears rolled down it, only for him to gently flick the drops of water away, drying her eyes. This continued for several seconds, with them both sitting in direct eye contact, before another word escaped from either of their lips. It was an empty period of time, but a loving one– even when unnecessary, Bruce rubbed her cheeks softly and soothingly.
"Do you think he'll change his mind?" Talia asked blankly. "Do you think he'll decide he wants me back and…."
Precipitously, her head drooped downward like a dying flower. Bruce's finger kept on her cheek regardless, letting the movement pull his arm lower with the cheek. He couldn't even see the area he was touching anymore, with the sunlight's shadows concealing it from view, but he continued rubbing it to the best of his ability regardless. It seemed to be working, although slowly, to get Talia's trembling body to relax. Her breaths were getting smaller and quieter, even as her stance shrunk in overwhelming timidness.
"Never mind," she said. "I… I can see it in your eyes, Beloved. You know the answer to the question even less than I do. There would be no more truth in that answer than the one to your first question, simply… blind comfort. Telling me whatever I wanted to hear."
He nodded. "I'm… sorry. You're right, I don't know, but if I were to guess… Well, I'd assume it was just a product of rage, and that he will take the words back any minute now."
"There you go," Talia's eyebrows furrowed. "That's your blind, meaningless, comforting answer, isn't it? The one you think I'll be made to feel better by, even if in the long run, my disappointment will eventually sink in if you end up wrong."
For a moment, Bruce froze, caught off-guard. He used his leverage on her cheek to scooch her head upwards, where he could finally look in her eyes once more. She was still crying just as hard as before, and if anything, the speed of her rushing tears had mildly increased. The fragileness of these tears had completely taken over her face at this point, with every single one making her cheeks bones move lower and looser.
Bruce attempted to comfort her anyway. "I admit you're right that I may have been exaggerating my certainty that he'll come around, and it's not like I exactly have a lot of faith in your father with these sorts, but… I will say that I believe it a lot more than the other options or–"
"—And I agree with you on that," Talia interrupted. "But honestly, I just… I don't even know which option I want to hear anymore! I don't know how.. Or why… or… Or, well…. If he takes it back, then will that even be a good thing?"
"I–" he stammered, but failed to find a confident answer.
"Then I'll have a choice to make, Beloved! Another terrible, heart wrenching choice…" she exclaimed, feeling her lips crumple into a deep pout. "He won't just give it as an offer, I'm sure, or take no as an answer if I so choose, either… he'll come begging if he has to. He'll ask that I return so he can live another day knowing his precious daughter still loves him, and I…"
She abruptly pulled her face out of Bruce's clutch and turned it to the right, fully avoiding his fingers. Even from there, though, her head remained tilted downward acutely.
"I can't just look in his so genuinely desperate eyes and tell him no, can I?" she questioned. "I cannot tell my own father that I don't want to be in his life anymore, or even worse, tell him I don't even love him. It'd…. It'd kill him, Beloved. I would kill him."
Talia let Bruce look in her eyes again now, and the sight made him nearly gasp; her eyes were so heavily flushed in tears that he couldn't even see the eyes underneath the heavy glare. Her own vision was intensely blurred, as well, and her nose was incredibly congested. All of her inhales came out as a soft, sad little sniffle, followed by a crumply blubbering sound at the exhale.
"That's not true," he reasoned. "Your father's a master-manipulator. I doubt a single one of those 'desperate' looks are the slightest bit genuine, and even if they were, does it matter? He's a terrible man, a murderer even, who's hurt you tons. You not only can leave him, but frankly, absolutely should."
"That's the thing, Beloved," she argued. "You say he's 'hurt me tons' but I promise you, whatever he's done to me, isn't even comparable to how my leaving would hurt him. He's–"
"No," Bruce shook his head firmly. "It's not comparable, because you aren't hurting him with this at all, Talia."
"Beloved, you… you wouldn't understand."
She wrapped her arms around herself protectively, and now let the entire upper-half of her body fall down and droop with her hanging head. She barely even kept herself standing upwards at this point, with her knees and feet wobbling against the weight of her leaning torso. Bruce had shifted his hands to be placed on her shoulders, but even that did little to stabilize her unsteady body. Strands of dark brown hair blew over onto her face, only making her entire composure look even more messy than it already was; those strands seemed somewhat enchanting as they shimmer in the sunlight, though, same as her sparkly tears.
Suddenly, Talia spun around, shoving Bruce's hands off her in the process. Her boots slapped against the wood floors, and then bounded down the steps until she was entirely off the porch. Now, she ran through the large yard, wet grass brushing at her ankles, until she was a significant distance away from him. Dew drops seeped into her shoes, making her toes curl, but she otherwise ignored the discomforting crawling of water. Her feet nonchalantly kicked the dirt against the ground, pushing those dew drops away.
Bruce was quick to follow her, rushing even faster down the stairs until he skidded to a stop directly in front. She inevitably faltered backwards as she realized this, letting her shoes get pushed even deeper into the dirt surrounding. Her eyes were wide and uneasy, carefully watching his every move. He, on the other hand, stared at one thing and thing only; the metal phone in her hand glimmered brightly, visually guiding his eyes towards it.
"What are you doing?" he asked, a frantic tone plaguing his voice.
"Just sorting things out," she answered, narrowing her eyes in determination and piercing focus. "Making things right."
"What do you mean by that?" He took another small step towards her. "Making things right with what? With who? You seem impulsive, Talia, not thinking straight. Can you please just tell me what–"
"I'm thinking more clearly than ever, Beloved."
She pressed a few buttons of the device, making small tapping sounds, until she'd found the right app. Once on there, it took only a few more taps for her to reach the exact destination. Now, without a hint of reluctance, she flashed the bright white phone screen to Bruce and let him read the bold black contact letters for himself. He squinted through the sun's glare, but eventually, the word dawned on him.
'Father'
There were a few buttons underneath it, but the one her thumb gently rested over was a neon green one, marked by a stylized phone symbol. She had the open, honest kind of confidence to be mistaken as proud of her future actions, but the expression on her face starkly contradicted these ideas. Salty tears continued to sting her skin, to the extent that even her shirt was wet with the furthest-running drips.
"I— I just wish to make things right," she calmly declared, "with him."
"Things are right this way!" Bruce shouted in response. "He's a manipulative, cruel, murderous villain of a man, Talia, who expectedly let you down the moment you weren't helpful to him anymore. Calling him and pleading that you'll be helpful to him again from now on is only going to make things worse!"
"That's not what I'm doing here," Talia debated, lowering her thumb ever so slightly closer to the button. "I'm trying to let my own father know I love him, not become any horrid villain's pawn."
"If you call him, after what just happened between you two, I doubt it'll just be—"
But before he could even finish his sentence, she had pressed the button. A small beep sound ticked the air, and then the dreaded ringing sounds came. Out of mere instincts and no consideration whatsoever, Bruce lunged over and snatched the phone out of Talia's hands, thrusting it on to the ground. Mud splattered over the top of it and the screen instantly blacked out, but to be sure it was demolished, he began to aggressively stomp on it. Crackling noises stuttered out of the breaking screen and inside electronics with each pounding stomp.
"What are you doing?!" she asked accusingly.
"Keeping you on the good side," Bruce said. "You'll thank me later."
Talia's frown was intense, and her arms were tightly crossed over her chest in anger. Her breaths, as well, were less than content; they mimicked the sounds of whistling pots– quick, high-pitched, loud, and aimed directly at him. But even louder than that was her fast heart, anxious and turbulent in its beating. Her eyes kept their vision locked on her phone, watching every bit of energy drain out of its hardware.
Then, she swiftly looked up from it. She stared at Bruce, and in that glare, her tears became ones of pure rage; Talia ran towards him, with her arms thrown backwards in clenched fists, and began to scream at him. Every aggravated word, another few tears coated her face, and her body stumbled just a little more in dire uncertainty. Drops of spit flew out of her mouth alongside those words.
"How am I supposed to contact him now?" she questioned desperately. "For that matter, how is he supposed to contact me when he inevitably takes back what he said and tries to compassionately solve our conflict. He'll think I'm ignoring him, that I simply don't care! He'll think that I wouldn't feel a thing if he's lonely constantly, or weeps everyday missing me, or even kills himself because he can't handle losing ano—"
"I thought you didn't want him to come around either way," Bruce pointed out. "I thought you just wanted to be done with him."
"I do!" Talia cried, and with those words, she felt a severe cramp in her stomach. "But I don't want to fail him, either, and if that means having to even step up and go to him first, instead of waiting for his own apologies, then so be it. We're a family, if I abandon him–"
The cramps got growingly worse the more she thought about this matter, until, with a mashup of possible scenes and options filling her head to its processing brim, she began to feel downright queasy. A clump of vomit rose in her throat, which she promptly swallowed back down, only for it to rise once again. She blew out thick, spiraling breaths to combat the many sickly feelings.
"Talia, this is ridiculous." Bruce reasoned, wandering forward until he was a mere step in front of her. "Why would you care about abandoning one of the most murderous men on the planet? It says nothing about you. Why would you want to even consider going back to that kind of person? Why would you want to–"
"I don't truly want to go back to him, Beloved," she explained, wincing as the nausea only increased. "I just… I just want my father to be alright."
Her clenched fists finally relaxed, and with that action, so did her frown. It was still present, but the lines of it softened immensely into nothing but a small, sad pout. In a sudden surge of overstimulation, her feet fumbled backwards; they slipped loosely in the dusty surroundings, getting caught on stubs of grass on the way. As the nausea completely took over her balance, Talia nearly went tumbling to the ground before Bruce wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back to her feet.
He pecked her cheek tenderly, while keeping his arms tucked around her back. Suddenly, his grip there tightened; his fingers clasped her body up against his in a firm embrace. Talia let him hold her without trouble, much too weary to fight back or continue their argument. In fact, her eyes even began to close comfortably as she rested her head on the top of his shoulder. Bruce now felt trickles of tears spill down his arm, yet he did not do so much as flinch at the water.
The only thing he did was lean over and press his mouth to her ear, whispering a few quiet words.
Is it ok not to fill all of the prompts? Or at least go back and do them later? This week unfortunately did not leave me with a lot of time to create, but I'd still love to participate!
It is more than okay to not fill all the prompts or days, and if anything, is simply expected! As wonderful as it is when a person has completed all the days, it’s certainly understandable if that’s not an option of you, and individual fanwork(s) for just one or two of the prompts will be appreciated tons nonetheless.
If you do want to complete them all but can’t as of the moment, though, (in regards to your second question) please also know that late submissions will definitely be accepted. The Ao3 collection is left open for at least 1 month afterwards, and even if that point has passed, you’re more than welcome to send a message with a link to your work so it can be manually invited to the collection. As far as tumblr goes, though, all you have to do is tag/@ this blog somewhere in your post (NOT just add #brutaliaweek2022 to the tags, I won’t still be checking that tag for new posts anymore after the week finishes) and it’ll get reblogged, same as any other fanwork. Late submissions will only start being denied 7+ months after the week ends, since at that point it’s simply getting too close to the next year’s week for it to make sense.
➳ brutalia day four: secret relationship | talia needs/gets a hug
➳ .9k | rated g | m.list
Dick tip-toes down the stairs to the Batcave, knowing full well he isn't supposed to be up. But how is he supposed to go back to sleep when he had had a nightmare? It isn't his fault!
Voices float up to him as he got closer and closer to the Batmobile, and he pauses, trying to make them out. One of them is definitely Bruce’s, but the other, he can't quite place. It is definitely a girl’s voice, Dick could tell that much, and he gasps. Who could he be talking to, especially down in the Batcave? Maybe it is Ms. Diana?
Continuing his descent, Dick tries his very best to be silent, like Bruce had taught him. He knows he shouldn’t be snooping, but B wants him to be a detective, doesn't he?
Slowly peeking over the railing, Dick squints into the dim light. There’s Bruce, at the Batcomputor, but the angle is all wrong so he can’t see who’s on the screen. B doesn’t have his mask on, which only further’s Dick’s hypothesis (look at him using one of his vocab words! Bruce will be so pleased!) that it’s Ms. Diana. But, even as he congratulates himself on his super awesome detective work, he knows that that’s not quite right. The voice is huskier and more accented than Ms. Diana’s is.
Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, Dick gulps. Will Bruce get mad at him if he gets caught snooping? He hasn’t gotten mad at him yet but it could happen! What if Dick gets grounded, or worse, benched?
Steeling his nerves, Dick reminds himself that Bruce said good detectives have to take risks sometimes. He can do this!
Sticking close to the wall of the cave, Dick creeps to the left, trying to get a better look at his computer. He can’t believe B hasn’t noticed him yet; his skills must be really improving!
His bare feet make the slightest noises on the stone floor, but Dick doesn’t think it’s loud enough to attract Bruce’s attention. He finally gets to a spot where he can see Bruce’s friend, and it’s not someone that he recognizes. She’s dark-skinned, and kind of looks like one of the performers in Pop Haly’s circus group who had been South Asian. Maybe she was from somewhere similar?
Curiosity growing, Dick moves forward, crouching low to stay out of the web cam’s view. He turns hus attention to the conversation, and realizes with a start that they’re talking about him!
“Yes, Dick is a very smart boy,” Bruce is saying, and a frisson of pride runs through him. If Bruce says it, it must be true! The lady says something in return, but he still can’t quite hear her, so he gets even closer, until he’s right behind B’s chair, able to peek up and around it at the lady.
“I’d like to meet him sometime,” the lady says, and Dick waits eagerly for Bruce’s reply. When it doesn’t come, he does something really brave.
“Hi!” Dick says, popping up from behind Bruce. “I’m Dick!”
Bruce startles so badly it makes Dick snort. So much for being aware of everything as Batman!
“Dick,” Bruce says, a little panicked. “What are you doing up?”
“I had a nightmare,” Dick says with a pout, almost having forgotten all about it. Bruce softens and Dick takes his chance to climb up into his lap so he can look directly into the camera. “What’s your name? Are you B’s friend?” He gasps. “Are you his girlfriend? Oooh, Bruce, I’m telling Alfred!”
“Why, hello there, Dick,” the lady says, and Dick thinks she’s very pretty. He tells her as much and B makes a really weird, strangled sound.
“Dick,” he groans, and Dick looks back at him innocently.
“Hm?”
“This is Talia,” Bruce says after a long moment. “She’s a very special friend of mine.”
“Everyone knows ‘special friend’ just means girlfriend,” Dick says with a roll of his eyes. Even he knows that much because he overheard two of the older boys at school talking about it.
“Ah, you caught me,” Bruce says, still making a weird face. Dick turns his attention back to Talia.
“Hi, Ms. Talia!” He grins at the camera, and Talia smiles back. Dick decided he likes her. “Are you two in a secret relationship?”
“One could say that,” Talia says gravely, and Dick wiggles in excitement. So cool!
“So nobody knows?”
“Very few people do,” Talia answers, and Dick looks back at Bruce. He’s so going to tell Alfred on him!
“Talia, I should put him back to bed,” Bruce says after a few more minutes, and Dick pouts. He wanted to talk with Ms. Talia more!
“Can we talk again?” Dick asks, and Bruce sighs.
“Sure, but not right now, okay?”
Pacified, Dick says his goodbyes to Ms. Talia, who also seems sad to see him go. When Bruce hangs up the call, Dick looks up at him with puppy-dog eyes. “‘M not sorry for eavesdropping because I was just being a good detective, okay? So I can’t get in trouble!”
“Is that right?” B asks, and Dick nods vigorously. Bruce moves to stand, and Dick clings to him, forcing Bruce to hold him when he does.
“Can I sleep with you tonight?”
Bruce shifts Dick until he’s mostly on his hip. “Only if you don’t tell Alfred on me.”
“It’s a deal!” Dick says, but his fingers are crossed behind his back. He’s totally going to tattle!
leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own
This is a repaint of Hellelil and Hildebrand, the Meeting on the Turret Stairs which is one of my favourite paintings ever. The forbidden love and the secret moments of softness just reminds me of Bruce and Talia.
This is still a wip because I didn't finish on time oops but I will definitely be posting the fully painted piece once i'm done.
I tried to go for a home-video style snapshot of a universe where Talia chose a life with Bruce over Ra's. (I'll go into my detail under the cut)
Dick is still slightly salty about Talia technically becoming his stepmom, but he figures it's worth it for his two (for now) little brothers. Although he and Talia never really get comfortable around each other, they learn to respect each other for the part they play in their sons/siblings lives. Doesn't mean Dick wants to see his Dad kiss her though
Jason never dies in this au because Talia simply wouldn't allow that happen (and also because i said so). He gets adopted just after Talia re-enters Bruce's life so he begins to see them both as his parents pretty quickly and doesn't mind it when they're being gross in front of them because it shows how much they love each other.
Damian is raised with his two very overprotective and doting parents and some very annoying brothers (and eventually a sister). He is just a tad spoilt read a lot spoilt but in general he comes out much better adjusted then he did being raised in the league.
Alfred is the one filming behind the camera and you can almost feel the pride radiating off of him that his son managed to find a little bit of contentness and stability despite his questionable life choices.
