I write somethings :) FearfulKitten on ao3. She/her. (Personal blog is @fearful-kitten01) Don't be afraid of talking to me! I'm not taking requests at the moment but I like engaging with people about the things I love
Hey guys. So, I know that I haven’t been posting much lately, and I’m really sorry for that. There should be some stuff coming soon.
But, the reason behind it is an original story that I’m working on. I’m really excited and very invested in it. I’ve never felt so confident that I’ll be able to finish one of my stories before, so this is just... it’s making me drop some things to favor it.
I do have the wish to one day be able to publish a book and maybe make a living out of my writing, so if I have been taking some time off of writing fanfiction it’s because I found the energy to try to run after something that truly makes me happy. And hey, if none of that works out, I hope you guys will still be able to enjoy the fics I’ve written and the ones that are still to come regardless of whether or not I can update them consistently.
I do intend on participating in the Dick and Dami week, which is another reason that may delay fics from coming out. I can’t even actually make any promises about the week too, because even if it is something I’m passionate about (I love writing these two so much), I know that there’s a chance I might not deliver. I love fanfic and I don’t think I’ll ever fully stop writing it, but between the original story and taking some time to study tarot a little more, I end up not putting as much time on the fics as I used to.
I have some more vacation time and I hope to use it well - which means that I kind of wish that I could get the story to at least a novel’s lenght before april. Which means that it will take some time out of me. I’m positive that I can finish it before my classes start again, but that means I’ll be rather inactive on here. I’m sorry. I’m also very sorry if you have requested something, because I may fail to deliver. I hope you all can understand me. I hate feeling like I’m not delivering it, but I need to act out what I believe in, which is that fandom should be fun above all else - and right now, it’s more fun for me to spend some time with these dudes I have created than with the dudes someone else did.
I hope you can understand that. Also know that if anyone is interested in my oc’s, I’m more than willing to talk about them! I’m still me, I still love talking about things that give me joy, and now, it’s not just Dick, Dami, Tim, Duke, Cass, Bruce, Jay, Steph and all the others - although they still do bring me joy, always will - , it’s also Cade and Mark and Alex and Anna, who are all still in the process of being shaped and gosh. I’m just so excited. I hope I get to share these people and their lives with you some day.
Anyways. This might’ve been overdramatic, I realize that, but I simply am that *extra* bitch and if I didn’t say this, I’d feel bad. I had to get it out of my chest.
I love all of you so so much. You mean the world to me, truly. You’ve made me confident enough in my writing so that I no longer second guess myself or feel the need to justify why I write what I write to anyone who questions it with ill intent. You’ve made my life so much better, and my 2020 was much, much more joyful because of you.
This isn’t a goodbye, it’s just a see you soon. And trust me, that I can promise ;)
After many amazing prompts, we’re happy to announce the prompts for the Dick and Damian 2021 event! If you have any questions about the event or the prompts, feel free to send an ask and we will help you out! An alternate prompt list will be released later this month. Thank you!
Summary: Your bird didn't come back. Time to move on.
Warnings: Implied sexual content.
Notes: Sorry for the wait! I hope you’ll enjoy it.
It had been three months since that last visit. Three months of no more Nightwing, no more news from him, not even a hello. At first you were sad. A piece of you really wanted to see him, make sure he was okay, patch up any of his wounds, maybe feed him a little and... talk.
Then you felt stupid. Stupid, because you were falling for a man whose name you don’t know. You’ve never even seen his eyes. The only things you knew about his personal life was that he lived alone, and had a very limited amount of cutlery at his place. Why were you so stupid as to believe that he’d ever want anything more than just bandages and ice from you? How was your perfectly capable, functioning brain, able to convince you that a vigilante could have any interest in you, a civilian?
And then, obviously, you felt angry. Angry, because how dare him? How dare he appear in your fire escape, beaten and bloodied, then throw up in your kitchen, let you give him stitches and wash his hair, and then not even show up to say that he’s fine? He should be sending you fruit baskets and buying you overly expensive brunch treats. And no, he wasn’t dead, because the bastard had been seen jumping through Blüd’s rooftops multiple times since your last encounter.
So you did what you should have done a long time ago; you moved on. A friend had set you up with a guy who was a friend of a friend of hers, or something along those lines. What truly mattered was that he was a handsome man, that took you out to a nice place and whose charm dragged you to his bed on your first date, and right now, as you blinked yourself awake, staring at his sleeping face, you made an effort to remember his name. His face looked oddly familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what made you feel that way.
“What are you looking at, hm?” He whispered, an amused smile plastered on his lips as he slowly opened his bright blue eyes.
“Nothing.” You answered, fingers lightly tracing his cheekbones “You have a scar here.” You point out, tracing a faded white line right below his eyes “How did that end up there?”
“Well, I do get punched a lot.” He laughed, voice raspy “I’m a cop after all, and with this new drug craze in Blüd...” He shook his head slightly “A lot of junkies trash around when being detained.”
“I see.” You kept tracing his scar when his name suddenly came back to you. Richard. That was most likely it. You were 90% sure “I’m gonna go grab myself a cup of water, okay?” You said “Want me to bring you one?”
“No, I’m fine.” He nuzzled into his pillow “I’ll catch up to you in a second, m’kay?”
“Sure.” You huffed out a little laugh, stretching on your way to the kitchen.
You opened up one cabinet, getting on your tiptoes to reach for a glass (seriously, what kind of monster puts the everyday glasses on such a high shelf? Richard, apparently), but your gaze soon fell down to his Superman mug, sitting lonely in the lowest part of his cabinet. You bit your lips as you filled the glass with water.
After you were done with your drink, you thought for a second, trying to ignore the sudden gut feeling that took over your body.
“It’s none of my business.” You whispered to yourself.
Still, your hands wandered back into the cabinet, opening it to stare at the mug once again.
“My friends can carry me.”
“Are your friends heroes too?”
You shake your head, trying to convince yourself that you were just seeing signs that didn’t exist because you wish they were there. Your hands wandered to the cutlery drawer, directly under the cabinet you were staring at, convincing yourself that you were simply snooping around, like every single one night stand does, not looking for evidence.
Slowly, you pulled it open, reaching inside and pulling out his spoons.
Three spoons.
“Hey, that’s fine. I mean, I have only one mug and three spoons at my place.”
Your breathing accelerated as you placed them on top of the balcony.
“Oh my God.” You whispered, hand covering your mouth.
“What was that, beautiful?” He asked, going into the kitchen with nothing but his underwear and a robe.
You were ready to say ‘nothing’ and forget all about this stupid theory. But his robe was open, giving you a full view of his stomach and the scar he had there. On the exact same spot you had given Nightwing sutures three months ago. And the moment you laid eyes on him, he could tell that you knew.
“You.” You growled out, angry.
“I can explain...” He started, putting his hands up.
“Three months. Three fucking months and you didn’t even say hi?” You said, walking towards him “And then you take me out on a date so that you can take me to bed then leave me again?” Neither of you said anything for a while, your heavy breathing plaguing the apartment “Was it your idea?”
“What?” He asks.
“Was it your idea. The date. Was it? Did you set this up too?” You took your hands up to press the sides of your head “Ugh, I’m such an idiot.”
“No! No, this was a coincidence, I swear.” He said, walking to you “I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. I didn’t even want to go on the date, but when I saw it was you, I...”
“You realized I was an easy target? That you’d know just how to manipulate me? Know what to say so I’d put out on the first night?”
“No! No, God no.” He corrected, taking one of your hands “I couldn’t leave, because I missed you. I wanted to talk to you again.”
“Yeah, sure.” You spat the words out, not sure if they hurt you or him the most.
“You think I’m lying?” He asked, sounding heartbroken.
“If you missed me, why didn’t you go see me again?” You asked “Did you forget where I live after the concussion?”
“I- No. No, of course not.” He shook his head, sighting “I couldn’t go because Batman told me to stay away.”
“What?” You asked, skeptical “Why would Batman care about what you do, or who you see?”
“It’s complicated.” He said.
“I have time.”
“Listen, I can’t explain everything, but the point is, he was right, okay? I mess with dangerous people. If they see Nightwing getting attached to a civilian, what do you think they’d do to you?” His face was more sad than serious, and you tried your best to hold his eye contact “So after that night, I was convinced that I should let you go. That I shouldn’t keep putting such a nice person in harm's way. But trust me, it wasn’t an easy decision to make. I really liked you, my angel. So, when I had a chance to meet you as Dick Grayson instead, well... can you really blame me for taking it?”
You swallowed. He was close. Really close.
“No.” You whispered “But I feel a little... used.”
“I promise you, that’s not something that was on my mind, okay?” He said “I just... I really wanted to talk to you one more time. Of course, the moment we stepped into my apartment, I knew that there wasn’t much of a chance that this would last. I’d have to explain, eventually, and that would probably lead to you leaving.” He sighed “So I don’t blame you if you do.”
You bit your lower lip, arms crossed in front of you. He looked just like he did the first time you met him; like a battered, bruised, lonely man. And his bright blues eyes, staring at you, filled with sadness and fear, they would never let you leave. So you stepped a little closer.
“I’m not leaving.” You took a deep breath, stepping even closer to him “I’m willing to give this a shot.” You said “Whatever this is. But there are a couple of... rules, if you will, that I need to set.” He raised an eyebrow “First rule is; you can’t answer everything with ‘the less you know the better’, like they do in the movies. That won’t cut it for me.”
“Noted.” He smiled a little.
“And second... you have to let me help you.” You ran your hands down his chest as you spoke “You have to let me tend to your wounds when you come back from patrol. You have to come to me when you need to catch your breath. You have to let me help you, Dick Grayson. Or so help me God, I’ll find Batman myself and tell him you disobeyed his orders.”
“He’ll find out in a week or two anyways.” He shrugged, smiling playfully “Can’t really lie to the best detective in the world.” He placed his hands on your hips.
“Well, what can I threaten you with then?” You giggled.
“You can’t.” He giggled too “I won’t feel threatened by a civilian who insists on tending to my battle wounds.”
“You jerk, stop using my own lines against me.”
Hey! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging? It helps with spreading my fics and my page, and it would make me super happy if you did it! Regardless, I hope you liked it and have a nice day! <3
Tag list: @bepo-is-sorry
(if you want me to tag you in anything, just shoot me a message!)
Hi I forgot one last tidbit for my request; “why is this my family...?” Preferably from Bruce or duke
oooh this should be fun. Do you have a specific scene planned or do you just want to see it in a fic?
Also, I should warn you, I’ll take some time to be able to get through all of these. I still have some stuff to finish for uni, even tho I have more free time now!
Oooh, for the batman bingo, could you do “English is a horrible language”, family bonding, and “fuck you”? There’s so much potential for this!!! Timmy’s got welsh in him, dick’s Romani, Damian is Arabic/Asian.... so many ways they could bond over English sucking ass. And then there’s Jason.
Hey there! I have a fic pretty much done for the first prompt, but it only includes Dick and Bruce since I wanted to write something with him as a baby Robin struggling with school homework. After I post it, you can send in another request if there’s something that you feel like it’s missing and you’d like to see me try! I already have one up with the family bonding prompt, and I’ll try to see what I can do for the “Fuck you” but I’m saving that for when I feel particularly angsty I guess lol!
Notes: Hello, @pin-a-pin! I hope this fills your request for this years damijon gift exchange! I had fun writing this, and I hope you'll enjoy reading <3
Jon grinds his teeth. If they weren’t indestructible, they’d surely break due to the sheer strength of his jaw. He tries his best to stop it, because after all, if his teeth become crooked or grew out of place, there wouldn’t be braces in the world that would be able to set them straight, but he can’t help it. Something about that girl really gets to him. And the worst part was how Damian seems to defend her whenever she is brought up in conversation.
“I do not understand what is the issue with her, Jon.” Damian scoffs as they walk into class “She’s just another student. If you dislike her so much, just ignore her.” The boy places his backpack on the floor, taking his seat.
“I can’t.” Jon whines, sitting on Damian’s desk and ignoring the other’s scowl “She’s everywhere! Always doing something that gets on my nerves.” He glances back to the door, where she is talking and laughing with her friends “Look at her! Laughing like that, who does she think she is.” He mutters.
Damian looks at him as if he was an alien (which, granted, half of him was); partly disgusted, partly confused, completely weirded out by his friend's behaviour.
“You get along with everyone, Kent. Why can’t you get along with her?”
“B-Because...!” He moves his hands around, mouth open, trying to put the argument he definitely had into words “Look! She’s so... Ugh!” Damian rolls his eyes “Ugh. Whatever. You never get anything, anyways.” Jon slides out of his desk and makes his way to his place, a little upset with the previous exchange.
He sulks in his spot, watching as she takes her place next to Damian, all smiles and good mood. Jon rolls his eyes, angry. He was also all smiles and good mood, but the way she did it was insufferable and wrong. It annoys him.
The worst part is knowing that he hates her because she may someday have something he knows he can’t have; Damian’s heart. As class starts, he feels his gut sinking more and more, thinking of all the things she would get that he wouldn’t, of all the things he’d say to her and not him, all the soft touches and looks he’d give her instead of him.
He feels sick.
Of course Damian wouldn’t hate her. She’s pretty, polite and lovely. She talks to him and asks for pencils and he gives them with little hesitation. She’s obviously the one he wants. The one he’ll be calling ‘beloved’ with that posh and over-the-top accent of his. The one he’ll be coming home to after patrols. The one he’ll... Oh God. How could he face him now, after this realization had hit him so hard and suddenly? Jon lifts his hand.
“Yes, Jon?” The teacher asks.
“May I please go to the restroom, ma’am?” He asks. The teacher hesitates for a moment, but since it was Jon, ‘the good student’ Jon asking, she decides to let him go.
He rushes into one of the stalls, tears falling down his eyes as he locks himself in and cries into his hands.
Back in the classroom, Jon’s distress as he left didn’t go unnoticed. Damian ponders on what that could be, getting a little distracted from the lecture in front of him. He tries to piece together what made Superboy leave in such a hurry. Unless there was any kryptonite in the classroom he surely wasn’t physically sick, so his distress must have originated in an emotional issue.
Damian’s mind ran through the conversations they had today, starting from Jon complaining about his parents, to discreetly discussing their current mission, to Jon complementing his drawings, to him demanding that Jon properly cared for the tangled mane he called hair (it could be so beautiful if he just used a comb every now and then, so soft and fluffy), to... The girl he hates. Coincidentally, the same girl that sits next to him in class and looks at him with lovestruck eyes. And then something clicks inside of Damian, and he puts his hand up, no time to think of anything else, to worry about anything else.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Smith, I think I should check on my friend. He wasn’t feeling well this morning and might require some assistance.” Damian lies through his teeth with ease. He isn’t sure if this is a skill that would impress or disappoint his father.
“Okay Damian, go ahead.” She says.
“Thank you, ma’am.” Damian zooms out of the classroom, walking into the closest men’s restroom. It’s almost empty, only one of the stalls closed and locked. Little sniffles fill the bathroom. He clicks his tongue loudly.
“D-Damian?” Jon asks.
“You were wrong, Jon.” He says, walking towards the stall Jon was occupying.
“About what, Damian?” Jon sounds angry, which might have sounded intimidating in different circumstances, but right now he has a stuffy nose and it makes him sound so utterly adorable in Damian’s ears that the boy had to smile “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not really in the mood to take your teasings.”
“Open the door.”
There is a moment of silence, and Damian waits patiently for his reply. The door clicks open and Damian walks in.
“-tt-. Look at the mess you’ve made of yourself.” Damian starts, holding Jon’s chin and examining Jon’s tear stricken cheeks. He pulls out some toilet paper “And for what? Nothing.” He complains, wiping away the tears and rubbing the paper at Jon’s runny nose before tossing it in the trash bin.
“What? What are you talking about?” Jon asks, a little scared as he watches Damian pull one more piece of paper, patting away at his cheeks and eyes with surprisingly delicate hands. This was the most Damian had ever touched him ever since they met, if you don’t count the spars and fights. It was definitely the most gentle touch he had ever offered Jon.
“I do understand some things, sometimes.” Damian replies, still cleaning Jon’s face as best as he can “And I definitely understand you.”
“Damian, what are you-”
“Sh.” Damian shushes him “I’m not done. I can see why you don’t like her.” He smiles a little, not looking into Jon’s eyes “And... I’m glad you don’t like her. But you don’t have to hate her anymore.”
“What... What do you mean?”
“I thought I told you I wasn’t done.” Damian stops the movements on Jon’s face, and the other rolled his eyes. Damian resumes wiping the tears away from Jon’s face “You’re... I’m...” He takes a deep breath, getting the words in order before speaking up again “You’re Superboy. And I’m Robin.” He swipes Jon’s nose again, tossing away the paper and looking up at the other “But there is another Superboy. And there have been many Robins before me.”
“I don’t-”
“Shut it. I’m trying to make a point.” Jon keeps quiet and sustained eye contact, a little annoyed “So, if we’re not unique in that aspect, what sets us apart from our predecessors?” Jon opens his mouth “That was rhetorical, don’t answer.” Jon shuts his mouth “We have different fighting styles, and different weapons, and different lives. But at the end of the day, in my eyes, what truly makes us different from them is... Us.” Damian swallows, doing his best to keep his gaze fixated into the other’s sky blue eyes “Because... No matter how many Robins there may be... I’m the only Robin that’s yours.” Damian stops to take a deep breath, whispering the next words “And you’re the only Superboy that’s mine. So please, stop making such a mess out of your beautiful face over a girl that will never be able to meddle in what we have.”
Jon is stunned. How... where did this come from? Was all of the teasing, screaming, shouting, cursing, just a way to... flirt? For how long... how much time had he wasted?
“Damian, I...” His voice cracks “I don’t know what to say.”
“Am I wrong?” Damian lifted an eyebrow, in that confident, over analytical way he always did. Jon felt his heart skipping a beat.
“No.”
“Then don’t say anything.” Damian pulls the taller boy down by the collar of his shirt, kissing him. It doesn’t take long for Jon to realize what was happening and pull him closer by his waist, wanting this moment to last forever, needing to have Damian as close as possible before he woke up from what clearly was a dream. But then they pull away, and Damian doesn’t struggle away from his touch, doesn’t kick and scream at him, doesn’t disappear into a poof of black smoke.
Instead, Damian smiles and cups his cheek.
“I... God, this was...” Jon inhales sharply, unable to find words that could describe the way he felt.
“I know.” Damian answers simply, touching their foreheads together “I wished it didn’t happen in a bathroom, but I couldn’t risk it.” Jon chuckles at that.
“Did I do it right?” He asks softly, hands running up and down Damian’s sides.
“I think so.”
“Well, was it good?”
“Yes.”
“Can you elaborate?”
“It was... nice.”
“And?”
“Soft.”
“And?”
“Jon, for the love of God,” He grabs the taller boy’s cheeks “Just shut up and do it again.”
Hey! If you made it this far and you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging? It helps spread my fics and makes me super happy! Regardless, thank you for reading and happy holidays!
With one last breath in me (I’d die before I’d let you leave)
Word Count: 8053
Notes: Hey @river-bottom-nightmare! I hope you enjoy this! I tried my best to make it angsty but I always go overboard with the fluff on these two. I had a lot of fun writing this, so I hope you’ll have fun reading it too!
“Superboy, to your left!” Robin says.
Jon uses his laser eyes to destroy the robots, before moving back to Robin’s side, running with him for the exit.
“You have the data?” He asks.
“Who am I, Red Robin?” He shoots back, smirking as he shakes the flashdrive in front of him “Of course I have the data.”
“That was fast.”
“I am fast.” Robin says, using his batarangs to make a hole on the wall ahead of them.
“Careful,” Superboy smiles, picking him up by the armpits and flying them out of the twentieth floor “You almost sound like Flash now.”
“That’s preposterous.” Robin rolls his eyes as his feet carefully reach the ground, patting the dust out of his costume.
“Are you alright?” Jon asks, scanning his friend like his father had recently taught him to.
“I’m fine. Are you?” Damian grunts, rearranging his cape.
“Yeah, I’m okay. But I think we should go before that becomes a problem.” Jon points at the building they just left, with a reasonably sized burning hole on it’s side.
“Great point.” Robin raises an eyebrow at the mess they’ve made.
Jon picks him up by his armpits again, over Damian’s protests.
“Put me down, you wild beast!” He flails around “You’re going to dislocate my shoulders!”
“What do you suggest then? We need to get home!” Jon says. Damian thinks for a second, before sighing.
“Fine. Put me on your back.” He says, resigning to his fate.
Jon doesn’t need to land to throw him over his shoulders, going faster now that Damian was more secure. Robin blushed with the ease that he had been placed on his friends back, wrapping his arms and legs around Superboy’s torso. They still had fifteen minutes to go, so he rests his head against Jon’s back, examining the flashdrive. Jon blushes when he feels Damian’s hair ticking the back of his neck. They reach their HQ after twenty minutes of a comfortable flight. Robin doesn’t complain about the added travel time.
Damian walks to the computer, analyzing the data they had just stolen, downloading whatever seemed interesting and relevant before he could take it back to the cave for further research under his father’s critical eyes.
“Hey, Dami,” Jon calls. Damian freezes at the nickname, and tries his best to disguise it as he feels Jon’s hand on his shoulder “Do you think you have it covered? I kinda really need a shower right now.”
“Go ahead.” Damian’s voice comes out a bit higher than normal. He clears his throat “You wouldn’t be of much use for me right now anyways.”
Jon takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes.
“Whatever.” He pulls his hand back “If you need me, you know where I’ll be.”
Yes, he did. In the shower. And Damian was trying really hard not to picture him there. And he was trying really hard not to think of how nice Jon’s hair must feel when it’s wet and being shampooed. And he tries even harder not to think of how even nicer it must be to have Jon’s hands massaging his scalp for him. And he tries really hard not to think of how much he wants Jon to tangle his fingers into his hair and play with it as he drifts off to sleep. And he doesn’t even know why it is that he needs to try so hard not to think about it.
“I won’t be needing you, Kent.” Damian says “Have a nice shower. You stink.”
“Whatever.” Jon says again, rolling his eyes one more time.
...
“What’s with the face, D?” Jon asks, sitting across his friend at the lunch table.
Damian takes another bite out of the sandwich Alfred had carefully crafted in the morning and frowns harder as he watches a girl sit down next to Jon, followed by her friend. He was almost sure one of them was Delilah, but it might as well be Janet. Jon is – as always – smiling, but the two girls aren’t. Understandably so. Damian didn’t exactly make an effort to be liked.
“So, which class do you have next?” Jon insists.
“Chemistry.” Damian answers.
“Oh, I hate chemistry.” Jon says, overreacting, trying to keep the conversation alive.
“I used to find it rather fascinating. Of course, that was back when I was with mother and being taught something actually useful and challenging, and not now, when I’m forced to go through this with a bunch of functional idiots that can’t even remember the formula for the air that they breathe.” Damian says.
“Huh.” Jon says, tapping the table and bouncing his leg. Damian rolls his eyes.
“Yeah.” The girl – maybe her name was Jessica – says, turning to Jon “Hey, have you seen the soccer game last night? Man, I could barely stay still!”
“Me neither!” Jon says, enthusiastically chattering on about a game Damian had neither seen or been interested in with the girls.
He tunes out the conversation until he finishes his sandwich and leaves without a word, but enough noise to catch a few eyes. Not that he cared.
“Excuse me for a second.” Jon says to the girls, before sprinting after Damian “Hey, D, wait up!” He says, placing his hand on Damian’s shoulder again, forcing him to turn. He wills himself not to blush when he faces his blue-eyed friend “What’s going on? Did something happen? You seem a little down today.”
“Nothing happened, Kent.” Damian spits out “I have a class to attend. Go back to talking about football with your friends.”
“It’s actually soccer, but-”
“Doesn’t matter.” Damian turns around “Americans” He rolls his eyes as he makes his way through the halls, leaving Jon very confused, a little worried, and a little angry.
Damian keeps rubbing and scratching his right shoulder through the day, remembering Jon’s hand forcefully spinning him on his heels. He can’t understand why he wishes it was still there.
The rest of Damian’s classes go by at an agonizingly slow pace, and when he’s finally free to go home, he once again feels a hand grabbing him on the hallways. Jon holds him by his left forearm, and Damian stares down at his friends grip in surprise. His arm is covered by his clothing, but it still feels like it’s on fire under the other’s fingers. Surprisingly, Damian finds that he doesn’t really want to pull away. He drags his eyes up, meeting his friend’s.
“Dami, did I do something? You haven’t talked to me all day.”
Damian frowns.
“You didn’t do anything, Kent.” He pulls his arm back, harsher than he needs to be “Leave me alone at once, I need to go home.”
“Oh, c’mon Damian.” Jon walks beside him. Damian wants to punch him in the face “Don’t be like that. We’ve been friends for such a long time, you can tell me anything.”
“Great. I’m telling you to leave.” Damian shoves his hands in his pockets.
“You’re so rude, Damian.” Jon says.
“Oh look, there’s Pennyworth.” Damian says, monotone and sarcastic “I would hate to keep him waiting. Goodbye.”
Damian walks faster, getting away from a huffing, frustrated Jon, while waving at Alfred. He replies with a polite nod and a small smile. When Damian gets in the car, ready to cuss up a storm on his way home, a friendly face greets him.
“Hey Dami.” Dick says, smiling, sunglasses on “So, I take it school sucked today.”
“Very much so.” Damian dares to open a small smile as he settles in next to Dick “What are you doing here?”
“Hello, missed you too, happy to see you’re safe.” Dick teases.
“Yes, sure, I’m glad you’re back from your mission, alive and in one piece.” Damian rolls his eyes “Not like I had any doubts you’d come home safe.”
“I’m here because I missed you.” Dick says, reaching out to ruffle Damian’s hair “But Bruce wouldn’t let me come alone, says there are too many bruises to be questioned, so I had to stay in the car.” Dick removed his shades to expose a nasty black eye, so swollen Damian could barely see the blue in them. He was taken aback by that, finally noticing all of the other injuries Dick hid so well; there was a healing cut close to his hairline, a splint in his left hand and a deep purple bruise poked out of his collar, probably hinting at a much bigger nightmare underneath.
“I can see why.” Damian says as Dick puts his shades back on. The boy stops for a second, thinking “Can I still hug you?”
Dick has the biggest smile on his face at that.
“Of course you can, little D.” He says, opening his arms “Just mind the hip, I think I might’ve fractured it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Damian replies, already burying his face in his brother’s neck. He hadn’t realised how much he missed Dick when he was away.
“Now,” Dick starts as they separate “Wanna tell me what’s gotten you so down?”
“I’m not-” Damian gasps, outraged for a split second, putting up all of the walls he always did before he remembered this was his brother. He sighs, shoulders falling as he does so “I... Jonathan is getting on my nerves.” Damian rubs his left forearm, curling protectively over it.
“Did he hurt you?” Dick asks, reaching out for his arm.
“No, it’s not that.” Damian answers, sighing, letting his brother check under his sleeve for bruises “It’s his friends, that Denise, or Jennifer or whatever. Following him around talking about ‘soccer’.” He makes a face “And of course, since he insists on following me, I am forced to listen to that... annoying little voice, blabbering on about meaningless subjects.”
“Hm.” Dick listens with a smirk “Y’know, it sounds to me like you’re jealous.”
Damian huffs.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it though?” Dick squints a bit.
“Yes.”
“You hesitated.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“I did not!”
“Yes you did.”
“Kids, please, no more yelling.” Alfred says.
Damian huffs.
“Alright, I’m sorry, I was only teasing you.” Dick says “But, um, just in case I was right, then... you do know it’s okay, right?”
“You were not right, so it doesn’t matter. Now leave me alone already.” Damian looks out the window, frowning.
“Okay, okay, I’ll back off.” Dick says, putting his hands up.
“Good.” He shoots back. There are a few minutes of silence before the kid speaks up “When will you be able to go on patrol with us again?”
Dick frowns.
“Tonight?”
And there it is, the string of curses Damian had been holding back on, bullying Dick hard enough to get him to stay at home for at least a week.
...
“So... the school dance is coming.” Jon says over Damian’s shoulder.
“And you are bringing this up because?” Damian grunts, searching the room for any other crooks that could be hiding.
“Because this is boring.” Jon replies, grabbing a hidden guy by the back of his neck “And I was wondering if you’re going.” He shoves the guy to Damian, who hits him with a perfect nerve strike to keep him down for a while.
“-tt-.” Damian rolls his eyes, walking to the next room “As if I would be willingly joining those stupid peasants for an evening.” He takes down two men while Jon leans against a door frame.
“Wow, okay.” He says “Forget I asked anything.”
“Why? Are you going?” Damian scoffs.
“Yes.”
Damian looks at him in disbelief and disgust.
“Why?”
“Because it’s fun.” Jon rolls his eyes “And there are three more guys coming from the hall, I can hear their heartbeats.” Damian attacks before they reach the door “And Elise invited me. I think I might say yes.”
“What?” Damian scowls “You can’t-” He dodges a punch “A little help?” He growls at Jon, who sends a laser beam into the man’s foot “As I was saying, you can’t go.”
“Why not?”
“Because! It’s preposterous!” Damian yells, knocking down the last guy.
“Well, I don’t think so. I think it will be fun.” Jon says, making his way out of the place “And the police are near. We should be on our way.”
“I’m not allowing you.”
“You’re not the boss of me, Damian.” Jon rolls his eyes.
“You have patrol.” Damian shoots back.
“I can miss a day of patrol.” He crosses his arms “Just stay with your family for the night. Besides, hasn’t Nightwing just gotten back from a long mission overseas? Just spend more time with him, I’m sure you two miss each other a lot.”
“That’s besides the point!” Damian stomped his foot “You’re gonna leave me all alone for that... weird football girl.”
“Once again, soccer.”
“Ugh! Whatever!” Damian exclaims “I’m going home. Since you can’t take this seriously enough, I believe we should call it a night.”
“Robin, c’mon, don’t be such an ass.”
Damian clenched his jaw.
“Go back to Metropolis, Superboy. Gotham clearly doesn’t have a good enough soccer league for you.”
Damian shoots his grapple gun, letting it pull him to the top of a random building.
“Agh! You’re so frustrating sometimes!” Jon yells, shoving his hands in his hair.
After Damian sees the boy leaving, he sits on the edge of the building, feet dangling down. He picks up his comm, switching it to a private line.
“Nightwing,” He calls “Are you awake?”
It takes a while, but after a small static noise, Dick picks up. Damian sighs in relief.
“Hey.” He answers “I’m up. Is everything okay?”
“It’s... fine.” He sighs “I think...” He blushes “I think that you were right.” He looks down at his dangling feet “I think I did hesitate.”
There’s silence for a short while. Dick knows this is as close as Robin gets to crying.
“Where are you?” Dick asks “I’m picking you up.”
...
Back home and under weighted blankets, Damian held on to a cup of hot cocoa Alfred had made for him while Dick ruffled his hair.
“Feeling better little D?” He asks, sitting down next to him. Damian sniffles a little.
“Not really.” He admits, staring at the steaming liquid in his green mug “I don’t understand. Why does it feel like I’m... like I’m dying?” He looks up at his older brother with watered eyes.
“I don’t know, Dames.” Dick replied gently “Maybe if you talk to me about what happened, I could help.”
Damian sighs, putting the mug down and hugging his knees.
“Her name is Elise.” Damian starts “The annoying girl I was talking about. And... he’s taking her to the school dance.” He closes his eyes for a second “I don’t understand. He’s... above her. Why would he subject himself to such a humiliating situation?”
“Why do you think he’s above her?” Dick frowns a little.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“I think you might be forgetting that his mom is human too.” Dick replies “I don’t think he-”
“No. God no. You misunderstand me.” Damian interrupts “It’s not the human part that’s the problem. It’s the way she is. Such an annoying waste of space and matter.”
Dick tries his best to conceal his smile.
“Little D... you feel like you’re dying because you’re jealous.” Dick says. This time, Damian doesn’t protest “And it’s fine. It’s part of life.”
“But I don’t want to feel like that.” He says, hiding his face in himself.
“Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s a possibility.” Dick smiles.
“How do I make it stop?” Damian asks.
“You could try asking Jon to go with you instead.”
“Never!” He hisses back “I’m not taking part in such dreadful events.”
“Oh, c’mon, what could be the worst that could happen?” Dick responds “Some harmless fun?” He teases “Oh no! The mighty Robin is afraid of music and watered down poncho!”
“Quit it Richard.” He growls “I’m not going and that’s final.”
...
“I don’t understand.” Jon says, burying his face in his hands “He’s just so... difficult.”
Clark watched attentively as his son stared at his slice of pie, waiting for him to continue speaking.
“It’s like he doesn’t want me to be happy.” He frowns “I had no clue he hated me this much.”
“He doesn’t hate you Jon.” Clark says, gentle eyes scanning his son “We both know that Damian’s family life is... complicated. He cares about you very much, but has a hard time expressing it. He never really learned how to express it.”
“Yeah, well, remind me again of why I put up with it.” He complains, shoving a bite of pie into his mouth “It’s not like it’s my responsibility to teach him how to be a decent human being.” Clark waits patiently as his son finishes chewing “I mean... it’s so unfair. Why do I have to keep on... getting hurt by his mean words and he gets to just... walk away and have fun with his siblings? He was the one being rude and now I’m the one that’s upset.”
“Uh, I’m sure Kon would love to patrol with you, if that’s the issue.” Clark tries, unsure on what to say. God, he wished Lois was home. She was the one that knew what to do in situations like these.
“Ugh, dad, no.” He presses his temples with the palm of his hands “I mean that like... I have to carry around this weight that he puts on my shoulders! And it’s not fair.” He sighed “Why did I have to fall for someone who treats me so badly?”
Clark blushes at the words, unsure on what to say. These topics always made him a bit uneasy. But there was his boy, his little miracle, teary eyed and hurt, and for once in his life, there was nothing he could do about it. He reaches out a hand to his son.
“I don’t know, son.” He starts, holding Jon’s small hand in his “We can’t really control the desires of our hearts. Especially not at your age.” He smiles.
“I wish I could.” He mumbles, letting tears fall out of his eyes.
“I know.” Clark replies “We all do.”
“It feels like the world is ending right now.” Jon sobs “Like nothing matters anymore.”
“I know.” Clark moves to sit next to his son, hugging the boy “But I promise you it’s not ending.” He gently rubbed his arms as silent tears fell from his boy’s eyes “Everything seems so much bigger when we’re young. But this bad feeling will fade away, I promise you. Just give it time.”
Jon nods, wiping his eyes with his sleeves.
“Do you think I should talk to him?” Jon asks “I could... tell him how I feel?”
“I think that could be good.” Clark swallows “But... remember who he is. Damian might not be as kind as you would if he doesn’t feel the same.”
“Yeah, I know.” Jon sighs “But it’d be nice to put something of mine on his shoulders for once.”
...
The next day, Damian doesn’t go to school. Jon spends the entire day anxious, wondering why his friend was allowed to skip class. Was he sick? Was he upset? Was he sent on a mission away from home? Was he dead? Oh no. If he was dead, then how was Jon supposed to confess his love? Wait. No, this wouldn’t be the worst part of him being dead. Jesus, Jon, come on.
At night, he can’t contain himself anymore. They weren’t supposed to patrol together, but Jon suits up and flies to Gotham regardless, heart beating desperately in his chest as he lands close by the cave’s secret entrance. He walks in, hoping he’d need to ask for Robin’s whereabouts, but instead he finds him as soon as he walks in, analyzing fresh samples in the batcomputer.
“Damian?” He calls “Are you okay?”
“What are you doing here, Superboy?” Damian growls in response.
“I was worried.” Jon says “You weren’t at school today.”
“Very perceptive of you.” Damian rolls his eyes.
“I thought you were sick.” Jon crosses his arms, walking towards his friend “But clearly that isn’t the problem.”
“Stop scanning me.” Damian scowls.
“Stop being such an ass!” Jon shouts back “I’m here because I care about you, and you still say rude and mean things!”
“I didn’t ask you to come!”
“Well, but I’m here! And you could at least try to be polite!” Jon stomps his foot down.
“Did you come here to yell at me? Are you done already?” Damian asks, finally turning his entire body to face the boy, walking towards him as well.
“No! I came here to see if you needed help.” Jon replies “But you can’t help yourself, can you? You need to push away people that care about you.”
“Great. I don’t need help.” Damian replies, walking back to the computer “You’re done around here. Have a safe fly home.”
“What is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this, Damian?” Jon asks, frowning.
“Because I still feel your touch on me!” Damian shouts, turning around to face the other, ripping away his mask. There are tears gathered in his jade eyes. They break Jon’s resolve and they break Jon’s heart “Because even after you leave, your scent is burned into my nostrils and I can still feel you, everywhere!” Damian shoves his gloved hands into his hair “And for the first time in ages, I don’t know what to do, and I don’t know what this means, and I don’t know why I keep on feeling like my entire body is on fire when I’m next to you, why it feels so cold when you’re away, and why every bone in my body feels like they are breaking simultaneously when I see you next to someone that isn’t me!”
And then, the unthinkable finally happens.
Damian sobs.
He covers his mouth just in time, but the pained, loud sound still reaches Jon’s ears, and he feels it; the pain Damian just talked about, shattering every unbreakable bone in his half-kryptonian body. He watches as Robin falls to his knees in front of him, crying, crying so much it scares him. Because to this very day, Jon was certain that Robins didn't cry. Superboy had been warned of that several times.
No, Robins don’t cry.
But Damian does.
“D, I...” He reaches out a hand, crouching in front of him.
“No!” Damian yells, slapping his friends hand away “Don’t. Stay away from me! I don’t want to keep on getting hurt.”
“Dami, I don’t-”
“Don’t call me that!” Damian pushes Jon back, forcing him to stand up “Don’t call me that when you don’t mean it!”
“Please, just listen to me!”
“Leave me alone! Get away from me! Get out of here before I make you!” Damian keeps shouting out over Jon’s words.
“Damian, please-”
“Leave!” Damian reaches into his boot, pulling out a shard of kryptonite “I will not stand in your way any more, Kent.”
Jon puts his hands in front of his body, staring at him and at the green stone and he feels sick. He’s not sure if that’s on the kryptonite or if that’s on... everything else. Finally, he flies away, whispering his goodbyes and his apologies. If he cried on the way home, no one had to know. If he cried on his father’s shoulder when he got home, no one had to know. If his mom had to help him out of his costume and into bed after he calmed down, no one had to know.
And if Damian broke down and cried until his voice was hoarse and he ran out of tears, no one had to know. And if Dick rushed downstairs and held Damian’s small body against his own, no one had to know. And if his father had found them and caressed his hair and cupped his cheek with concerned eyes, no one had to know.
Because life would go on, no matter what. It had to, no matter how much pain there would be. It had to keep moving, no matter how heartbroken Jon was when he didn’t see Damian at school for the following week, only to find out he had been transferred to Gotham High. It had to, no matter how Damian’s body seemed to refuse to move on his first day in his new school. It had to. It simply had to. There were things to learn, people to protect, dances to attend, a world to save, and none of those were willing to wait on Robin or Superboy.
...
“I can’t go.” Jon says “I’m sorry, but I really can’t go to the dance with you Elise.”
“What?” Elise says “The dance is tomorrow Jon! Who am I supposed to go with?”
“I’m sorry.” He says again “I know that I should’ve said something sooner, but... something came up.” He scratches the back of his head “Something that I can’t miss.”
“And what exactly is that?” She crosses her arms, upset.
“Well...” He shoves his hands in his pockets “A chance to make some things right.”
...
Robin sits on the highest tower in Gotham. Nightwing sits by his side. He looks down at his own dangling feet. The dance in metropolis high was happening as they sat there. Damian couldn’t understand why he still felt a knot in his guts. He hadn’t been able to eat properly before patrol, but he also wasn’t hungry at all. He hasn’t been hungry since the night of the screaming match in the cave.
“Robin,” Nightwing speaks up “Since there’s no way he’ll ever be able to sneak up on you, I think I should tell you that Superboy is on his way here.”
“What?” He exclaims. Dick pulls him away from the edge “How do you know that? Did you invite him?”
“Yes.” He says.
“You-”
“Before you insult me, let me speak.” Nightwing interrupts him. Damian grunts, but crosses his arms and waits for an explanation “After that night, Clark came to me.” He sighs “He was worried about what happened, because it seems that Jon had been crying so much he wasn’t able to explain what happened and for a second he worried about your safety.” He joins his hands, intertwining his own fingers as he speaks “I explained the situation giving as little detail as possible. Clark told me that... he said you two needed to talk. And that he could convince Jon to come, but he’d need my help getting you to be there.”
“So you tricked me into it.”
“Would you have come if I had asked you to?”
“...No.” He grunts.
“There we have it.”
“I don’t have anything else to say to him.”
“Apparently, he has a lot he wants to say to you.” Dick massages his own gloved hand “Just hear him out, okay? I think it might at least alleviate your suffering.”
“How can you possibly know that?” Damian asks.
“Look, if I didn’t have some sort of certainty that this would help and not hurt you, I wouldn’t have agreed to this in the first place.” He sighs “Last time you two spoke, it wasn’t good. Leaving it at that is killing you inside, baby brother.” He smiles at him “Just try, okay?”
Jon lands on the rooftop as Dick finishes speaking.
“So, you didn’t go to the dance afterall.” Robin says, walking away from Nightwing and closer to Jon, arms crossed.
“Alright, there’s no easy way to say this, so here it goes.” Jon says, taking a deep breath.
Damian braces himself for the worse.
How could Dick possibly think that this would be good for him? Had he really been brought here just to be painfully rejected?
“I love you.” Jon says. Damian’s eyes widen “I have always loved you, I think. But now, I love you more than I ever have. More than as a friend.”
Damian doesn’t know how to respond.
“I...” He tries “Me too.”
“Yeah. I kinda figured that out in the bones breaking part.” Jon smiles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“So now what?” Damian asks, looking at the ground.
“I don’t know.” Jon says “What do you want to do?”
Damian's stomach growls.
“Well, we’re in Gotham.” Jon grinned at him “I think a vegetarian Bat-burger would be nice.”
“Yes.” Damian smiles shyly “I believe so too.”
...
Jon lands next to Damian, on top of a Metropolis building.
“How was school today?” He asks.
“Awful.” Robin answers, removing his gaze from the street to look at his partner “I shouldn’t have asked father to change schools. Now not only do I have to put up with annoying commoners, I also have to spend the day missing you.”
Jon blushes and giggles, looking down. Damian smiles at him.
“It’s a quiet night.” Damian says “But then again, I suppose Metropolis is a lot quieter than what I’m used to.” He examines Jon’s face “You could... do the thing again.”
“The... thing?” Jon asks, frowning.
“Yes.” Damian stares at him “Like... the sky thing.”
“Oh! Oh, that thing.”
“What else did you think of?” Damian crosses his arms, smirking.
Jon blushes violently.
“Nothing! I was just confused!”
Damian laughs.
“Yeah, alright, Superboy.” He walks forward, wrapping his arms around the other’s neck “Now do it.”
“Bossy.”
“You like it.”
“And cocky.” Jon says, wrapping his arms tightly around Damian’s waist before taking off, pulling them both up to the air.
Damian smiles, looking down at the now small city under them.
“Aren’t you ever afraid of falling?” Jon asks as he stops on the highest spot possible before the air got too thin for Damian “My mom said she was always scared to death when my dad would do this.”
Damian stares into his eyes, bright blue sapphires that seemed even more alive from up close.
“I know you won’t let me fall, beloved.” Jon swallows, reactionless for a moment. Damian allowed himself the smallest of smiles “God, I love you so much.” He cups the other’s cheeks “But I’m getting cold, so I think it’s time we go down.”
Jon chuckles.
“Can I kiss you first?”
“You can kiss me whenever.” Damian smiles, pressing their lips together “Just not in front of my team. Or my family. Or yours. Or-”
“Okay , I get it!” Jon stops him, giggling, stealing another kiss “Just when we’re alone.”
“Yeah.”
“But you’re gonna have to patrol with me more often then. Since we don’t go to school together anymore.” Jon argues.
“I thought that was a given.” Damian replies “As long as you keep doing the sky thing.”
“I’ll do it as many times as you want.” Jon nuzzles into Damian’s neck.
“Jon?”
“Yes?”
“I’m still cold.”
...
Jon is cuddled up to Damian on the couch while the fireplace crackles and Alfred the cat is curled up at his feet. He is reading a book about Gotham’s economic history while Jon scrolls through his instagram feed, eventually laughing softly at some joke that pops up on the screen. Damian mindlessly plays with his hair.
“Dames?” Jon calls.
“Hm?” Damian responds, not taking his face out of his book.
“What are we?”
“What do you mean, beloved?” Damian puts his book down, gently brushing Jon’s hair back.
“What are we?” Jon sits up “We’re not friends. But we...” His words die inside his throat.
“Boyfriends?” Damian asks, raising an eyebrow. Jon’s eyes widen.
“We are?”
“I... isn’t it obvious?” Damian looks at him with concern “We go out together, we hold hands, we kiss, we cuddle... I told you I love you multiple times. Why the question? Don’t you... want to be my boyfriend?”
“No I do, it’s just...” Jon scratches the back of his neck “We never... said anything, I guess. I was afraid you didn’t want to be my boyfriend.”
Damian shoots him an exasperated look.
“I swear Jonathan, you are so confusing sometimes.” Jon rolls his eyes, looking down “But fine. I don’t have a ring on me so I hope a kiss will be a good enough substitute.”
“What are you...”
Damian gets down from the couch, kneeling in front of Jon.
“Jonathan Lane Kent,” Damian says, holding the other’s hand “Will be my boyfriend?” He gave his ring finger a feather light kiss.
Jon blushes intensely.
“Yes.”
Damian smiles, sitting back up on the couch and picking up his book again.
“No, put the book down.” Jon pouts climbing on Damians lap “I need kisses from my boyfriend.”
Damian rolls his eyes.
“You are so childish sometimes, beloved.” He sets his hands on Jon’s waist, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles. He kisses Jon regardless of his complaining, and when he pulls back, he gazes into the other’s blue eyes “How could you think that I didn’t want to be your boyfriend, you idiot?”
“I don’t know I guess... it’s just that... it’s a big deal. Right?”
Damian makes a face.
“I never thought it was.”
“I guess we just have very different views of love.” Jon whispers. Damian nods, biting his lips.
“I’ll...” He sighs “I’m sorry. I’ll try to... see things your way too.” Damian grabs Jon’s hand, staring at their intertwined fingers for a second “But you have to understand that I might let you down at times. I wasn’t raised to be a romantic. I don’t know what is normal and what isn’t in a relationship. I don’t understand the rites of passage properly. I didn’t know that the title boyfriend required a formal request. I might not know many other obvious things. I’ll try, I swear. I’ll try to learn and I’ll try to... be a good boyfriend.”
“You already are a good boyfriend, D.” Jon says softly “I’m not upset at you, I promise. I just really needed the clearance, that’s all.” He cups Damian’s cheek gently, giving his hand a light squeeze “And I’ll try to be patient. I won’t take silly things to heart and I promise to tell you when something bothers me.” He kisses the tip of Damian’s nose “And you promise to do the same?”
“Of course.” Damian smiles.
“Good. Now, I’m not done with kissing my boyfriend.” He sings out the last word, pulling giggles from Damian.
“So childish.” Damian mumbles against the other’s lips.
...
Damian throws the ball as far as he can again.
“Go fetch!” He exclaims, watching as Titus clumsily runs after it, giggling as he jumps up to catch it mid-air “Good boy.” He scratches his chin when the dog brings the ball back to him.
Jon openly stares at them, grinning like a fool at the fact that he could call that boy his, forgetting that they were surrounded by their combined families for a barbecue at the Waynes’ huge garden.
“You really are as lovestruck as they come, huh?” Dick smiles, settling next to him.
“Oh, um...” Jon blushes, embarrassed.
“Don’t be embarrassed, it’s adorable.” He places a hand on the teen’s shoulder, shaking him slightly “I’m not really the overprotective type. That’s Bruce.”
“Yeah, I figured that out pretty quickly.” Jon scratches the back of his head, remembering the expression on the billionaire’s face when he heard the news of their relationship.
Dick laughs at the boy’s shy reaction.
“Don’t worry too much about him. He’s more talk than action when it comes to that.” Dick reassures him.
“Still...” Jon looks over at Bruce, who’s standing next to Clark as he handles the grill, shuddering, before redirecting his gaze to Damian, biting his lips nervously “Y’know, sometimes I struggle a lot to understand him.” He admits, and feels Dick straightening his posture by his side “Don’t get me wrong, I love him, I really do, but... he somehow over explains everything and still leaves doubts in my mind. I feel like I’m always looking at an out of focus picture, and no matter how much I try, I can’t get the image clear in my eyes.” He chews on his fingernail for a second “Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, a little.” Dick crosses his arms “I gotta say, sometimes I felt like that with him too. He’s too... reserved. Dangerously so. I had to constantly push him for little bits of information that may be crucial to my understanding of who he is as a person.” He tilts his head from side to side, considering “But in time, it got easier. Dami is... he’s not much of a talker, I guess. It’s easier to perceive him if you look at him, instead of just listening. After all, we are talking about a picture, right?” He smiles, charming and understanding.
“I guess so.” He ponders “Wait...” Jon frowns at Dick “He lets you call him that?”
“Call him what?”
“Dami.”
“Yes?” Dick raises an eyebrow “Why?”
“That one night... the fight...” Jon shakes his head lightly “He told me not to call him that when I don’t mean it.”
“Oh.” Dick smiles “Of course.” He chuckles a little.
“I... was it a bad thing?”
“No, no,” Dick smiles softly at him “It’s just that... when you pronounce it like I do, more like ‘duh-mee’ than actually ‘dami’, you’re kinda saying my blood in arabic.” Jon seems confused and scared “I heard once that in arabic, people say things like, ‘my heart’, ‘my lungs’ and stuff to their loved ones. I tried it with Damian once and...” He shrugs “So that’s probably what he meant for you not meaning it. I’m sure that he’ll be over the moon if you call him that now.”
Jon blinks at him.
“So that’s why he gets so mad at being called that?”
“I mean, if someone you’re not close with called you sweetheart, wouldn’t it feel super invasive too?” Dick shrugs.
“Yeah.” Jon chews on his bottom lip again, looking back at Damian “Dami.” He whispers under his breath, trying to say it like Dick did “Dami. Dami.”
“Yeah, like that, but maybe say that to him instead of me.” Dick taps his back as he leaves, and Jon is suddenly startled by the man, having completely forgotten that he was standing next to him.
“Dami.” He says, louder this time, running for the other teen “Dami. Dami!”
“Jon?” Damian frows, startled as his boyfriend nearly tackles him to the ground with a hug and a kiss.
“Dami. I mean it. I’ve always meant it, you dumb bird. Even when I didn’t know what it meant.”
“You’re an idiot Jonathan.” Damian smiles, cupping his cheeks “Such a huge fucking idiot.”
“Your idiot.” Jon corrects him.
“Yeah, whatever.” Damian blinks some tears away, laughing as he presses their foreheads together “God, I missed hearing you say that. I was wondering when you’d say it again.”
“I would’ve said it sooner if you had explained what it meant and why you said what you said back in the cave.” Jon says.
“Whatever.” Damian rolls his eyes “Say it again.”
“Dami.” Jon presses their lips together.
“Again.”
“Dami.” He kisses him again “Dami. Dami, Dami, Dami.”
“I love you, Jon.” He lets a tear slide down his cheek.
“I love you too, Dami.”
...
“Hello!” Bruce greets the salesman with a wide smile, best dumb, kind, billionaire like grin that he can muster.
“Good afternoon, mister Wayne.” He replies politely “How may I help you?”
“We’re here to look at some promise rings?” He joins his hands “They’re for my son.” He looks over to Damian, who is sporting his typical frown paired with over-analytic eyes. Dick walks right behind him, smiling enough for both of them.
“Oh, surely. If you’d follow me, please.” He walks them to a table they can sit down at, and pulls out a bunch of rings “These are the most popular ones at the store. What do you think your girlfriend would like?”
“Boyfriend, actually.” Damian shoots back, examining the rings with a frown “And none of these will do. I don’t believe either of us would enjoy wearing a...” He twirls one of the rings between his fingers “Silver butterfly or a...” He frowns at a second one “Is that supposed to be a rose?”
“I think it’s a carnation.” Dick says.
“I-It’s a rose.” The man interrupts, smiling awkwardly “We should have more discreet options, if you give me a second.”
Damian crosses his arms and leans back on his chair.
“Little D, you should try to lighten up a little.” Dick ruffles his hair.
Damian glares at him. It would make a weaker man nervous, but Dick simply chuckles.
“It has to be perfect, Richard.” Damian answers, looking forward “I already messed up once by not doing this sooner. This time I can’t let him down. Besides,” He turns around, coming closer to his brother and whispering “He’s enough of a lovable idiot that he might wear it out on patrols so... it can’t be recognizable.”
Dick laughs at his concern.
“And what makes you think that the world will be deeply interested in Jon Lane Kent from Metropolis, to the point of checking his rings?”
“Other than the fact that his mom has a Pulitzer?” Damian grins wickedly “What do you think?”
“You’re going...?” Dick’s eyes widen “Oh my God, you’re going public with your relationship?” He smiles “Dami, that’s great!”
“Shhh. Keep your voice down. And yes, that’s great, if he agrees to it.” Damian settles back “We haven’t discussed it yet. I was hoping that the ring would help him with that decision. So it has to be perfect.”
“It will be, son.” Bruce says, smiling “We’ll find something perfect either here or somewhere else. You know that money is not a problem.”
“Yes, which just makes this even more stressful.” He shoves his face in his hands “If we were on a budget, it would already make whatever I found special. But no, you had to be a billionaire. That’s just my luck.”
“Well I’m so sorry that I have enough money to buy you a luxury car to give Jon if you want me to.” Bruce replies, amused.
“Can we do that?”
“No.”
“Can I have a luxury car?” Dick asks.
“I thought you didn’t want my money.” Bruce smirks.
Dick shrugs.
“I don’t want your money, but I think that I’m ready to start accepting gifts again.” He smiles, and the trio can’t help but laugh.
“I brought you some more discreet options.” The salesman smiles.
Damian twists his nose and scowls at every single one of the rings.
“I might as well give him the ring Timothy found in a cereal box.” He frowns, crossing his arms. The man is sweating, staining his dress shirt.
“Damian, don’t be rude.” Dick sighs, rubbing his forehead.
“I-I... I could bring you the engagement rings we have.” He swallows “But they are a bit more expensive.”
“Money is not a problem.” Bruce says, finding it difficult to keep up his happy and silly facade already.
The man comes back with boxes full of rings, having trouble to properly balance all that he’s brought down. Damian set his eyes on a pair of white gold rings.
“Let me see those, please.” He stretches out his hand in the direction of the rings.
Damian analyzes them for a second.
“If I need them in different sizes?”
“That can be arranged.”
“Can you engrave our initials inside?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then I want this one.” He says.
Dick breathes out in relief.
“Oh, thank God. Fucking finally.”
...
“Beloved,” Damian says, sitting up on the couch “I need to talk to you about something.”
“What is it Dami?” Jon puts down his book, looking at him with worry.
“You know how... you always talk about going to a restaurant or something, for a change, but father’s concern for the cruel public eye of Gotham stopped us?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I... I’ve been thinking.” He puts a hand in his pocket “I would quite like to go out with you. Take you out of the manor for once, when you come over to Gotham.” He swallows “But if we’re doing that, then it means our relationship will most likely be on every Gotham’s newspaper, and every single gossip site that bothers with the romantic endeavours of d-listers.” He looks up at Jon expectantly “Would you be okay with that?”
“Yes.” Jon says, immediately “Yes, yes a million times yes.” Jon hugs Damian.
“Alright, alright.” Damian smiles, pulling himself free “That’s good. Because our six months aniversary is coming up and I have a place where I’d love to take you, if you let me.” Jon is already nodding “But before anything else, I need you to close your eyes.”
“What?” Jon frowns “Why?”
“Close your eyes.” Damian says.
“If this is going to be like, a prank, Damian, I-”
“It’s not a prank. Just close your goddamn eyes, Jonathan.” Damian sighs.
“Okay.” Jon does as he’s told.
“Now give me your hand.”
“It’s sounding a little too much like a prank.”
“Give me your fucking hand.” Damian presses the bridge of his nose.
“Alright, alright!” Jon smiles, placing his hand on Damian’s palm.
Damian gently slides a ring into his finger.
“Oh my God.” Jon whispers, eyes still closed “Is that-”
“Yeah. You can look at it now.” Damian says, blushing “It’s white gold. If you don’t like it, I can always buy you a new one.”
“Damian this is perfect.” Jon covers his mouth with a hand while he admires his new promise ring.
“I’m glad you liked it.”
“Give me yours. Let me put it on you.” Jon demands, stretching out his hands. Damian hands him out his ring and lets him slide it into his finger, smiling “Perfect.” He whispers, bringing his hands to his lips and kissing it delicately.
Jon giggles, pulling Damian closer to his chest, getting them both to lay down as he admired their hands.
“Dami...” Jon starts, pulling him closer with one of his arms “You make me so happy.”
“You make me happy too.” He whispers back, tracing little patterns on the exposed skin on his lover’s arm “I can’t even fathom how painful and dull my life would be if I had to live without you.”
“You have to stop outdoing me with your declarations.” Jon smiles, wrapping both of his arms around Damian’s body now, nuzzling into his hair “It makes me sound stupid.”
Damian giggles.
“Well, you are a little bit stupid.”
“And you are a little bit rude.” Jon laughs too.
“Oh yeah?” Damian laughs, turning around to face him.
“Yes, very rude.” Jon pouts “So rude to me.”
“Let me make it up then.” Damian whispers, admiring the other’s face as he pushed his raven black hair out of the way.
“How are you going to do that?” Jon asks.
Damian pushes forward and gently kisses his lover.
“Yeah, that works for me.” Jon smiles.
Damian blushes and hides his face into his chest. The blue eyed teen lets him, pulling him closer and resting his chin on his head.
“I love you.” He says “I love you so much, Damian.”
“I love you too, Jon.” Damian smiles “And I’m glad you liked the ring, because if I ever catch you without it, you’re done for.” He looks up at him “I’m sure Elise is still dying to put her hands on you, and I need to make sure my territory is marked.”
“I’m not a tree and you’re not a dog.” Jon teases.
“But you’re mine.” Damian jabs a finger into his chest “And now everyone will know. Especially her. Hear me?”
“I hear you.” Jon smiles. Damian settles back down.
“Good.” He mumbles “Because who does she think she is? Is she Robin? No. Does she smell as good as me? No. Did she buy you a white gold ring? No. Is she-”
“Babe. I got it.” Jon stops him “And you don’t have to worry about her. She’s not even my type.”
“And... what is your type?” Damian frowns at him.
“Hmm...” Jon pretends to think “Dark haired, green eyed boys who smell good, punch criminals and buy me white gold promise rings.”
Damian smiles.
“Good to know, Superboy.” He buries his face in his chest again “Good to know.”
Hey! I hope you liked this! Please consider rebblogging it if you did, it helps with spreading my works and makes me super happy! Also, I gotta thank @3ambird for telling me about Dami’s name thing, hahaha! Go check out their fics, they are an amazing writer.
Hey! Just wanted to let everyone know I most likely won’t be posting again before christmas, bc I have a bunch of stuff to finish for uni and I just don’t have time to properly edit stuff for now, and all of the free time I get to write is going into my damijon secret santa gift, so yeah. Sorry and see you soon!
Summary: What’s the best way to calm down a bunch of crazed little bats? Apparently, a Lord of the Rings marathon.
Word Count: 2088
Notes: Hello! I’m slowly working my way to completing @3ambird‘s batfam bingo. This is just fluff and Bruce being a good dad, because we’re all in need of some comfort. Enjoy!
Bruce stepped into his home with an already loosened tie and his blazer in hands, handing it to Alfred as soon as he saw the man.
“Rough day in the office, sir?” The butler asks as he gently flattens and hangs the clothing piece on the coat rack at the entrance lounge.
“Yes.” He sighed, rubbing his temples “Is there any chance you could bring me some of your tea? I feel a headache coming.”
“A warm cup of tea will be coming right up, master Wayne.”
“Thank you Alfred.” He smiles at the man “I’ll be in the TV lounge.”
“Sir, I must warn you that the kids are watching TV at the moment.” Alfred says.
“Oh?” Bruce raises an eyebrow “Are they being too loud?”
Alfred thinks for a moment.
“They are unusually quiet sir.” He answers “I’d be careful around them.”
Summary: Dick Grayson slowly realizes he can’t depend on his family anymore, if he ever could in the first place. It’s a painful path, but he’ll learn how to take support from those willing to give, instead of having to punch it out of his stoic mentor.
Dick breathes in the cold morning air. It stings his lungs and burns his nose, but the rest of his body is still warm from the moving. The sun is rising in the dirty Blüdhaven horizon, shining through tall buildings, small houses and the few skyscrapers that color this part of the neighbourhood with their faded grays and shiny glass windows. It’s the best spot in the city. Not the highest one, being only about four or five stories tall, but it is the most comfortable, and provides a great view of the sun.
Some civilians have seen him there once or twice. Sometimes there’s a bit of food or some band-aids left there for him. This time, someone had left him Cinderella band-aids and a bottle of water, still chilled. They mark the gifts with a Nightwing sticker, or a drawing, or just his name. Eventually they’ll get it wrong, and he’ll fix it, leaving the corrected paper on the floor, weighted down by rocks, or a piece of wood, or whatever else he could find. Whenever he can, he leaves them a note with a smiley and a thank you.
Notes: Hello! If you haven't seen the post linked, please do before you read this work, or it might not make too much sense. It's 1000% worth the read.
Also, be kind if you choose to comment, please. This is very personal and feels very raw. I wrote all of it down in one go and decided not to add anything to it after it was done, so it's all rather emotional to me.
All that said, I hope you enjoy it!
“But... that’s just wrong.” Roy says, staring at Dick with concern.
Dick shrugs.
“He didn’t notice.”
“Well, he fucking should have.” Roy frowns, exasperated. He never wanted to break Batman’s face as much as he did now.
“I was the one that insisted on the uniform Roy.” Dick says “I should’ve just thought about that.”
“You were nine.” Roy shoots back “And you hadn’t even spent an entire year in Gotham to know what it’s winters are like.”
“I was smart enough to know that winters are cold.” Dick stares back at his friend “Besides, if I didn’t say anything it’s because I could take it.”
The redhead almost feels tears welling up in his eyes from how angry, frustrated, and scared he was for his friend. But he pushed those away; this wasn’t about him. He’d have time to cry and yell when he was alone in his room. He could put all of his frustrations into arrows and shoot them off into dummies during training. Right now, this was about Dick.
Roy reached across the table to hold his friends hand.
“He’s just such a little soldier, this one.” Jason’s voice popped up in his memories “He never sees how wrong Bruce is, all of the time. Would probably die for the man.”
Dick didn’t hold his hand, but he wasn’t pushing it away.
The acrobat’s eyes dropped to the ground.
“He didn’t mean it, he just never noticed it Roy.” He mumbles “He didn’t... It’s not his fault. He’s not a bad man. He’s not. He’s Batman, he can’t be a bad man.”
Even from the distance, Roy could see the wetness in Dick’s eyes.
“Dickie,” He calls “Dickie, look at me.” Dick shakes his head, like a stubborn child “Please.” Roy says in a softer voice.
He couldn’t just allow his friend to suffer like that.
He couldn’t let his friend keep on believing the ugly lies he had told himself.
Slowly, Dick peels his gaze from the floor and his sapphire eyes meet Roy’s. He was wrecked, just as much as he usually was; little cuts and bruises still healing from the fights, cheeks beginning to hollow from how little he had been eating and dark eye bags from the lack of sleep – and maybe lack of iron in his diet. But now, now there was another, brand new layer of mess. Now there were tears, threatening to spill out.
“It wasn’t his fault.” He still mumbles, and Roy couldn’t help but notice the ugly strands of saliva that clung to his friends lips as he spoke. The redhead wondered when was the last time he had eaten today.
“Dick-”
“It wasn’t... It can’t be his fault Roy.” Dick sobs, but he’s holding Roy’s hand now. Roy’s thumb slid gently across his friend's skin, feeling a scar from a small cut that had healed weird “It can’t...”
Roy could understand what he was trying to say.
It wasn’t his fault, because if it was his fault, every single certainty I had in this life will crumble right in front of my eyes.
That’s what Dick was feeling.
And it broke Roy’s heart that he’d be the one to kick down the first block of a painful domino trail.
But there was no one else there to do it.
Roy walks around the table they were sitting, not letting go of Dick’s hand for a second until he was close enough to pull him into a hug, shielding him from the world, hoping that this would make things easier for his friend.
“Dick. He should’ve noticed.” He says, pulling back to look at Dick, really look at him for the first time in some time. Dick looks down and shakes his head so Roy nods to contradicts his movements “Yes, yes he should have.”
“No, I-I should’ve said something, he wasn’t a mind reader, it’s not-”
“Dick, you were nine and he was your father.” Roy grabs his shoulder gently, trying to get Dick to look at him again.
“He just... you can’t blame him for... he just didn’t see it, it’s not like he was beating me...”
“Yes, but that’s still bad.” Roy insists “You understand how it’s still bad, right?” Dick still shakes his head “I need you to understand that, Dick. I need you to try to understand that this was bad.”
“I was just cold, it’s not that big of a deal-”
“Dick, you had hypothermia. Several times.” Roy says “It was a big deal.”
“No, no, it’s fine, I survived, and I’m stronger now, I’m-”
“Dick,” Roy grabs him harder now, almost desperate “It’s still bad. It shouldn’t have happened.”
“It’s not like he was actively abusing me, Roy.” Dick mumbles.
“Neglect is still abuse, Dick.” Roy says softly.
The silence in the room is palpable.
If one was to bring a butter knife to the room, one would’ve been able to slice through it and spread on toast.
“Dick. Neglect is still abuse.” Roy repeats.
“I-I,” Dick sobs, loudly “I know.”
The acrobat’s shoulders shake violently with the tears, rising and falling in a way that seems almost painful. Roy was grateful he was the one that had been there to talk to Dick. None of the other Titans, with the exception of Donna Troy, would have been able to handle this, and surely none of the bats. Dick rarely cried, but when he did, it was ugly and uncontrollable. Years of repressed tears falling out, screams ripping through his throat in an attempt to push out the pain he felt, drool staining faces and clothes, snot down his chin until his body gave out and he became a limp shell of a man, sometimes for a day or two before he could properly recover.
How’s all this repression working out for you, Batsy?
Roy pulled him into a tight hug.
“I know.” Dick mumbles between sobs “I know, I know. I know.”
Roy simply held him tighter, feeling Dick clinging to his clothes, fingers trying to grasp something, anything at all to support himself as he tried desperately to disappear, to melt into Roy’s chest, to become a puddle and be promptly cleaned by his surprisingly neat team. Of course, he couldn’t find enough support for that, and he fell from his chair, bringing Roy down with him. He still clung to the man, mumbling incoherent apologies.
“Shhh... it’s fine...” Roy tries to calm him down, fingers running through his hair and a firm hand on his back “It’s fine. I’m here, just let it out Dick. Let it out.”
And Dick does just that. Not by choice, but because the dam had already burst and it would take him some time before he could build the wall back up.
Roy wishes he could turn that dam into a river so bad.
Dick cries for what feels like an eternity, and it’s still not enough. He screamed into Roy’s chest for way too long, until his throat was hoarse and there was no way someone in the building didn’t know what was going on. Dick didn’t care, he couldn’t care, his mind just didn’t register it. And Roy didn’t care either, because there was no shame in this. Because if this was the first step towards Dick’s healing then whatever discomfort that may linger in the tower was worth it.
Hey! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging? It helps spread my fics so more people can see it and it makes me very happy.
Notes: Hello! I don't have much to say except that I hope the anon likes it bc I think I might have taken the request a little too freely, and I'm sorry. I just couldn't write anything other than this, for some reason I just scrapped everything bc it sounded horrible.
Anyway, hope you enjoy!
(This is a fill for @3ambird‘s batfam bingo!)
Duke found himself staring at the ceiling again. His heart was no longer racing, but he wouldn’t exactly say that he was calm either. This is the moment after the end of a race you lost, when all of the adrenaline is starting to wear off and the hopelessness sets in. That’s it. You’re out of the competition, buddy.
Except that this isn’t a race, and Duke hasn’t just lost his spot for the finals. He had simply lost sleep.
He gets up, silently opening the door so as not to wake anyone up. As he walks through the hallway, he raises an eyebrow when he finds a sleepy (and now paralized) Damian with a hand on Dick’s doorknob.
“Say a word, and I’ll cut off your tongue, Thomas.” He whispers threateningly.
Duke puts his hands up and pretends he’s zipping his mouth up. Damian nods and slides into the room.
Duke keeps walking heading out for the balcony in the living room of the second floor. It was always so bright, illuminated by the stars and the moon, and he didn’t even need to turn on any lights in clearer nights such as this one. It really was a pity that this sky was only visible in the outskirts of Gotham. The people here suffer so much, it would be only fair the sky would be able to bring them some comfort before bed, but just as everything else, it seemed to be a privilege for the richest.
“Hey,” Jason greets Duke from the edge of the balcony, startling the boy a little “What are you doing up, punk?” He smirks.
“Could ask you the same question.” Duke shoots back, leaning forward against the handrails.
“Yeah, but I asked you first.” Jason says, laughing. The smell of his minty gum hits Duke’s face hard, almost making him sick.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugs.
“That’s a bit clear.” Jason laughs again, and more of the gum’s minty scent flows through the air. Duke takes a step back.
“God Jason, what’s with the dreadful gum?”
“Don’t like it?” He smiles, blowing in the teen’s direction. He laughs as Duke fans his breath away.
“No. It’s making me sick.” He frowns.
“Well, sorry, but I really can’t help it.” He raises his shoulders “I’m trying to quit smoking again. This is better than cigar smoke, I’m sure.”
“Actually, yes.” Duke raises his eyebrows “And I’m happy for you.”
“Yeah, well, I died once and it was dreadful enough.” Jason shrugs “If I’m gonna die again, I just hope it’s not from lung cancer or a heart attack. Besides, I don’t wanna risk the one good part of me if y’know what I’m saying.” He exaggeratedly winks and points down at his crotch.
Duke laughs, rubbing his face at the nonsense.
“But you didn’t answer my question, not really.” Jason tries again “What’s keeping you up?”
“What do you care?” Duke smiles, but he’s a bit confused. Jason frowns.
“You’re my brother.” He says “What do you mean ‘What do I care’, is Dick the only one allowed to be caring in this house now?”
“I guess not.” Duke raises an eyebrow “I just never took you for the type to want to chit chat at four in the morning.” Jason stares at him blankly, annoyed “Alright, alright!” He puts his hands up “I’ve been having some pretty bad nightmares since the last time with Scarecrow, that’s all.”
“Ah, I get it.” Jason nods, supporting his weight on the handrails as he looks up to the starry sky “I’m always having my fair share of nightmares too.” He pauses to chew at his gum for a while, considering his next words “I guess this is where I should say it gets better, right?”
Duke chuckles.
“Yeah, probably.”
“Well, I can’t.” Jason hunches over, eyes dropping to the pale green grass lit by the moonlight “I don’t think I need to lie about this to you, kid.”
“You’re not that much older than me.” Duke complains “But yeah, I don’t think you do.”
“It’s enough of a difference for me.” Jason smirks at the boy “And in all honesty, I’ve never really been as good as Dick with the comforting talks.” He directs his gaze to the horizon, and God knows where his eyes are focusing right now “The thing is, when we live the way we do, we all get a little fucked up, for good. If nightmares are what we have to deal with, then, hell, I think we have it easy.” Jason spits his gum out, somehow hitting the trash can under them perfectly. He sighs again “Tim has panic attacks sometimes. Cass never learned how to read and still has problems communicating. Dick seems positive and productive to an outsider, but he struggles with anxiety and God knows how many other undiagnosed mental illnesses. Damian clearly has PTSD, even if he refuses to talk about it.” Jason shrugged.
“Well, I can’t assume that him dying could’ve been any easier.” Duke says. Jason huffs out a sad laugh.
“No. I mean, yeah, but also, no.” Duke frowns at the comment “He grew up in the League of Assassins. You weren’t here before, but you had to be blind not to see it.”
“Fair enough.” Duke says “But man, please don’t act as if you’re not just as fucked up, if not more.”
“I guess so.” He shrugs again “I just think I know how to hide it a bit better.” He pulls out the gum box, analyzing it “Or at least I used to.” Jason pulls out another gum and pops it in his mouth.
“You never really did.” Duek replies softly “You just went away so no one would see it.”
Jason bites the insides of his mouth for a moment.
“It’s not like anyone would want to see it, or even be able to help me.” Duke wants to say something, wants to yell at Jason and say that they love him very much, but he knows he’s right, to some extent. Everyone was a bit too fucked up to be able to pick him up properly “So you know... Roy and Kory... helped. As much as they could. Bizarro and Artemis too.” He chews a bit, eyes fixated on the trash can “I didn’t... completely give up on myself. I just... y’know, you can’t find everything at home.” He shakes his head for a moment “God, I’m supposed to be helping you... forget it, I’m not even making any sense.”
“No, you’re making perfect sense.” Duke says “And I’m not a child. You’re awake too, and I bet it must have something to do with your own nightmares.” He smiles softly “We can help each other.”
“Yeah, sure.” Jason looks at him again, smiling.
There’s a weird silence for a moment. Neither of them want to talk about it, and both of them know it.
“I’m... I’m really glad you’re here.” Jason starts, eyes fixated on the horizon again “I know I don’t always show it but I really am happy to call you my brother. It’s... a refreshing change of pace from all of those idiots.” He laughs, mostly to try and dissipate the feeling that he gets whenever he’s baring his heart. Duke laughs with him.
“Thank you.” He says “I’m happy to call you brother too.”
“Okay, come here.” Jason smiles, pulling Duke into what starts out as an awkward and overtly heterossexual hug.
But then both of them realize that they are alone. There’s no one there to judge. And Duke leans into his brother, pressing his chin on Jason’s shoulder as the older man allows himself to pull him closer, resting his cheek on the top of Duke’s head.
“I love you, man.” Jason says “And life is too short for me not to say it.”
“I love you too.” Duke replies “And yes, but please stretch it out for as long as you can. It’d be painful to live on a planet that doesn’t have Jason Todd and his trademark awful minty breath on my face.”
Hey! If you liked this, consider rebloging, pretty please? It helps spreading my work so more people can read it, as oposed to the notes. Regardless, thank you for reading, I hope you liked it!
Inspired by @s-mscott - link for the art, please check it out!
Word count: 2832
Notes: HEY. THIS IS JUST BEEN SITTING ON MY FILES FOR THE LONGEST TIME AND I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT IT DKJFHAKJHAKJDFH.
Anyway, it's a long time coming. The writing probs isn't as neat or as good as the latest uploads bc of that, but... idk. Hopefully it's good! I couldn't bring myself to edit it again, sorry about that. I hope you can enjoy it anyways and please go check out the artist, @s-mscott!
“Guys?” Dick asked, on his tiptoes as he rummaged through every cabinet in the huge kitchen “Hey are we out of cereal? I can’t find my Lucky Charms anywhere.”
“I think so.” Jason answered “I ate the last of the Lucky Charms last night.”
“Yep.” Tim said, popping the ‘p’ as he slid through the countertop, landing a bit behind Dick “I had the last of the frosted flakes two days ago.”
“Froot Loops?” Dick asked.
“I had those.” Duke answered “Sorry.”
“Fruity Pebbles?”
Cass raised her hand, looking at the ground.
“Reese’s Puffs?”
“I finished the box yesterday.” Damian announced, crossing his arms as he leaned against the marble sink.
“Damn.” Dick murmured and pouted as he closed the cabinet’s door “I’ve been craving cereal today.”
“We can always go get some.” Jason shrugged.
“At three in the morning?” Duke asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Actually, four.” Jason corrected, putting up a finger “And yeah, why not? I mean, we had a hard patrol tonight, and if Dick wants some cereal, I say let’s go get some cereal.”
“It’s four in the morning, Todd.” Damian said.
“I mean, the closest Walmart is open 24/7.” Tim interfered.
“You can’t be seriously considering this, Grayson.” Damian frowned at his older brother.
“Why not? I’m not sleepy anyways.” Dick crossed his arms and shrugged.
“Yes!” Jason hissed “Late night adventures with the baby bats. Let’s roll!” He clapped his hands once, and started to walk out of the kitchen, his siblings following him to the garage.
“Oh wait!” Dick said “Let’s ring up Bruce and see if there’s anything else we need.”
“Bold of you to assume he’d know what we need.” Tim interfered.
“Yeah, well, it’s worth a shot. Plus, do any of us really want to wake up Alfred to ask him?” Dick said, taking his communicator out of his pocket and placing it in his ear “B? Have a sec?” He asked
“Nightwing. What’s wrong?” Came the answer, Batman’s raspy voice flowing through the device.
“Oh, nothing’s wrong. We’re going to take a quick trip to the supermarket, I wanted to ask if you need anything.”
“... At four in the morning?”
“Yeah. Do you need anything?”
Bruce sighed.
“We’re running out of the coffee blend that Tim likes. Alfred the cat’s favorite treats have been gone since last week, and Cass’ favorite ice cream is done. Oh, buy Duke that soda he likes, I drank the last can. Also, Jason’s cookies and that brand of chips you like, we ran out of those. Oh, and buy something with Iron in it, I’m worried that Damian might not be getting enough.”
“Like spinach?” Dick said, writing it down on his phone’s notes.
“Yeah, that’ll do. Ah, and we’re a little low on milk.”
“Okay. Will keep that in mind. Thanks B, have a nice patrol.”
“Please don’t give the papers any headlines.”
“You got it, B. Bye.”
He placed the device back on his pocket.
“Okay, there’s a lot of stuff to buy, so let’s get going. I’ll drive.”
“Shotgun!” Jason yelled.
“We’re taking the S.U.V., one of you will need to ride in the trunk.” Dick said.
“I’ll go.” Cass’ eyes twinkled. No one could understand why she was always so fascinated with the idea of riding in the trunk, but she seemed to find it fun and all of them thought that her excitement was cute.
“Alright then.” Dick smiled, ruffling her hair. Her grin grew wider, and Duke set her hair straight again before they got into the car.
“Hey, can I play my music?” Tim asked from the backseat.
“Don’t force us to listen to the atrocity Drake calls music, Grayson.” Damian complained, arms crossed “Let me play something.”
“Uh, I’d rather not listen to Mozart and Bach while we’re in the car.” Duke protested.
“It’s called classic for a reason, Thomas.”
“Doesn’t matter, bat-brat.” Jason said “I’m with him on this one. Besides, universal car rules, shotgun DJ’s.”
“Since when?” Tim asked.
“Since now.” Jason said, plugging his phone in.
“Uh, I don’t think so.” Dick took the cord from him “According to ‘Supernatural’ rules, ‘Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole’. So that’s mine.”
“No one else watches this show Dickhead!” Jason pulled the cord back.
“Doesn’t matter, because I’m older!” Dick pulled it back again.
“Age is just a number!” Tim pushed himself to the front seat and took the cord back.
“Great point Drake!” Damian pulled him back by his waist, stealing the cord from him too.
“Hey, stop with the fuss, I’m gonna crash the car!” Dick said.
“Maybe we should just play Beyoncé...” Duke suggested. The car went silent for a while.
“Okay.” Dick said “Put on ‘Single Ladies’.”
“No. ‘Halo’ is her best.” Damian complained.
“Uhm, no way? I’m playing ‘Drunk in Love’, and that’s it.” Tim shot back.
“Are you crazy? Play ‘Formation’.” Duke interfered.
“I like ‘Run the World’...” Cass said quietly from the trunk.
“Yeah, okay,” Tim murmured “We’ll play that.”
The girl smiled as the first notes from the song filled the car.
There weren’t many cars in the parking lot, which was expected. They picked up two carts, and Dick hopped inside the one Jason was pushing.
“Dude!” Duke started “You’re in your mid-twenties!”
“Leave me alone, I nearly sprained my ankle today.” Dick stuck his tongue out. No one else questioned anything beyond that. The employees simply sighed, used to the two older brothers and their antics.
“Hey Parker.” Jason greeted the nighttime security guard.
“Hey. I see you two brought the whole gang tonight.” He answered.
“Yup.” Dick smiled.
“So this is a regular thing for the two of you?” Duke asked.
“Are you really surprised, Duke?” Tim shot back.
“No. Not really.”
“Okay. First stop, Bruce said we need to get Tim’s coffee.” Dick exclaimed, looking at the list.
Jason led the way, Dick grinning like a child on the cart, Cass quietly following as she pushed their second cart, Duke making friendly conversation with her while Tim and Damian kept bickering right behind them.
“Oh, wait!” Dick held on to the metal bars “We’re right next to the cookies and Bruce said we’re out of your favorites, Jay.” He looked up.
“Alright, a little detour then.” Jason turned them around, quickly grabbing his treats “Anyone wants anything else from this aisle?”
“But... We don’t need anything else from the aisle.” Duke pointed out.
“Um, we have a billionaire’s credit card?” Tim said “Bruce won’t freak out if we buy a few extra things.”
“Uuuh, they have those koala shaped cookies!” Dick hopped out of the cart “How many do I get?”
“I want one.” Cass said.
“Chocolate or strawberries?”
“Uh… I want both.” She answered.
“Okay, one each for the lady, two strawberries for me...”
“I want a chocolate one.” Tim said.
“Me too.” Damian asked.
“Oh, just take twenty boxes, ten of each flavor.” Jason interfered, dumping them on Cass’ cart “We’ll share later.”
“Oh my God, those are expensive!” Duke said, exasperated.
“Yeah. So?” Jason shot back.
“Bruce is a billionaire, bro. He won’t mind.” Dick said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah, well, it’s easy for you guys to say it. You grew up like that. It’s kinda hard to accept this when you aren’t used to having so much.” Duke answered, scratching his neck.
“Hey, I get that feeling lil’ bro.” Jason tapped his back “I spent my childhood in Gotham’s streets.”
“Yeah. I mean, I grew up in the circus. I wasn’t used to the idea of getting brand new stuff instead of asking for hand-me-downs from our friends whenever I grew out of my clothes.” Dick interfered.
“But... Just think about it like this.” Jason got closer to him “We now can get everything we couldn’t in the past.”
Duke frowned. Jason nodded encouragingly.
“That... Doesn’t help.”
“I tried.” Jason shrugged. Dick hopped back in the cart “To the coffee aisle!” He exclaimed, pushing his brother around.
“Hang on.” Tim said “This is where they leave the energy drinks. Let me take some.”
“Why do you insist on drinking this crap, Drake?” Damian scowled, reading the label in one of the cans “If you have such a death wish, jumping in front of a train is a much cheaper, quicker alternative.”
“Shut up, little devil.” Tim picked up cans from his favorite brand.
“Jason, push me a little farther down the aisle, please.” Dick asked “They keep their iced teas over there.”
“Ugh, Grayson, you disgust me.” Damian rolled his eyes.
“Don’t be so judgemental Lil’ D.” He smiled, being pushed away by Jason.
As they examined the cans, Dick noticed he had attracted the looks of a middle aged man, a couple of steps from them. He was staring at his hoodie, that contained the frase ‘I love dick’ printed on it.
“Oh,” He exclaimed, smiling at the guy “My name is Richard. That’s why it’s funny.” The man nodded “I’m also queer as fuck, so that makes it better.” He added nonchalantly, and the man’s eyes widened “Okay Jay, I picked up all I wanted, let’s go back.”
“Alright you little shits, back to the coffee quest.” Jason said, leading the way once again. This time, they finally made it to the coffee aisle. Tim crouched down, looking for his favorite blend.
Cass got a little curious once she laid eyes on a colorful package on the top shelf. She picked it up and handed it to Dick.
“Read. Please.”
“This is an espresso roast. Here it says that it has notes of strawberry? Vanilla and... Sugar cane. Colombian coffee. Seems nice. Wanna take it?”
“Yes.” She nodded. Dick dropped it on his cart.
Cass wandered away, still looking at all of the coffee blends.
“Hey girlie,” A guy whistled at her, next to his group of friends “Nice ass.”
She squinted at them.
“Yo, asshole!” Tim screamed, getting their attention “That’s our sister!” He threw a bag of coffee beans at the guy’s face, causing his nose to bleed.
“Hey, who do you think you are?” One of them started to walk up to her brothers. Cass could tell that he wanted trouble, so she grabbed his arm and slammed his face against the shelf, so quickly and brutally that it barely budged, leaving the products unbothered, but the guy fell to the floor, disoriented. She stared at him.
“We are Waynes.” Damian answered, pacing towards them quietly, hands on his pockets “I suggest you apologize immediately for the troubles, if you wouldn’t want to get a hefty lawsuit for your harrasment.”
“Uh, sorry bro.” One of them started, a little scared “We didn’t-”
“Not to me.” He interrupted “To her.”
“We’re sorry, miss Wayne.” All of them mumbled.
“Now promise you won’t do it again.” Damian added.
“We won’t do it again.” They started at the floor, next to where their fallen friend laid down.
“Good.” He squinted “Help your friend up, and get out of my sight.”
They did as they were told, helping his friend walk straight again. As Cass headed back, Dick gently touched her arm, looking up at her.
“Hey, are you alright?” She smiled and gave him a thumbs up. He smiled back.
“Does this happen often?” Jason asked.
“Sometimes.” She shrugged “But they always say sorry after I break their nose.”
“Ayy, that’s our girl.” Jason praised “Alright, we got the coffee. Where to next?”
“Let’s see... Next item is Alfred the cat’s treats.” Dick said.
“Ha!” Damian laughed loudly “As if Alfred would eat the... peasant treats that this store offers. No. I’ve already bought the adequate brand from an online shop.”
“Okay...” Dick raised an eyebrow “Then... Cass’ ice cream is next, but I think we should leave that as the last item, so it won’t melt, which leads us to Duke’s soda because Bruce had the last can.”
“Let’s go then. I think that the cereal aisle is on the way, so we’ll get that first.” Jason said, pushing the cart around again.
“Which ones do we get?” Tim asked, looking through the shelf.
“Everything that has sugar.” Dick answered. His brother began handing him boxes, when they heard a small whisper.
“Oh my God, are those...?” A girl said to her friend, attracting the eyes of the siblings. The duo averted their gaze quickly. Cass frowned at them.
“Relax.” Jason smiled, placing an arm on her back “They’re probably just... Fans.”
“Fans?” She asked, still staring suspiciously at them.
“Yeah.” Dick shrugged “I mean, we’re not super stars, but we do hit the papers pretty often. A bunch of people know us here in Gotham.” The girls were looking again, and Dick gave them a small wave, making them giggle “See? Nothing to worry about.”
“Hum.”
“Hey there, ladies.” Jason greeted, a cheeky smile on his face “What brings you to this fine establishment tonight?”
“We ran out of energy drinks.” One of them answered “What about you?”
“Cereal.” Dick answered, lifting two boxes. They giggled again.
“Hey, um... can we maybe get a picture?” The girl asked “It’s just that... no one will believe us when we tell them about this.”
“Absolutely not!” Damian answered.
“Nah, don’t listen to the little brat.” Jason said “Go ahead.”
Dick held up the boxes again, smiling as Jason made a ‘crazy’ motion with his hands. Tim turned around as the photo was being taken, turning him into a blurr with tired eyes.
“Can we get some selfies too?” The other one asked, grinning.
“No!” Damian protested again.
“Of course you can!” Dick said “Duke, Cass, come here.” He called.
All of them gathered around the cart Dick was staying at, even Damian. He didn’t look so pleased as the photo was taken, but neither did Cass.
“Thanks. You guys really are nice.” The first girl said.
“Oh, you have no clue on how nice I can be.” Jason winked, making her blush “Tell you what, why don’t I give you my phone number and you can text me those pictures later, hm?”
“Sure.” The girl bit her lips as Jason scribbled his number on her wrist.
“You are such a flirt.” Dick rolled his eyes as the girls walked away.
“What, like you aren’t?” Jason snorted, pushing him away, looking for where they kept the soda.
“I think Cass didn’t like that interaction very much.” Tim whispered to his older brothers, who turned around to find a frowning baby bat. Jason chuckled.
“What’s wrong, sis?” She scowled at him “Oh, c’mon, don’t get jealous.” He threw an arm around her shoulder “You know you’ll always be our number one girl, but a guy has his needs. And sometimes, a guy needs a date.”
Cass pushed him away, rolling her eyes as Duke placed five soda cans on her cart.
“Why would you even drink this sugar filled monstrosity, Thomas?” Damian asked, reading the labels “Grandfather wouldn’t even feed his prisoners something as revolting as this.”
“Because, Bat-brat,” He said “We’re all entitled to enjoy at least one or two things that may ultimately be responsible for our deaths.”
“I suppose.” He murmured, lifting an eyebrow “You make much finer points than the rest of them. Father has been looking for heirs in the least suitable places, I assume.” He clicked his tongue “It’s a good thing I’m here to help.”
“Okay...” Duke answered, raising his eyebrows and averting his gaze. There was only so much strangeness that he could handle.
“Great, now we need to get my chips and spinach.” Dick stated.
“Spinach?” Tim asked “Why spinach?”
“B thinks Damian may have been needing more iron in his diet.” Dick shrugged.
“Aaw.” Tim said “That’s actually kinda cute. Do you think he ever worries about our diets?”
“Don’t be stupid Tim, of course he doesn’t.” Jason answered.
“He does.” Dick shot back “He worries about us, he just... Really, really, really, reaaaally sucks at showing it sometimes.”
“Potatoe, potatoe.” Jason murmured.
“Yeah, whatever. Keep me moving Little Wing, we have stuff to pick up and my tiredness is catching up to me.” Dick pointed forward.
“Sure. But the chips are in the opposite direction.”
“Well turn me around then, do you want me to look like an idiot?” Dick said, a little exasperated.
“I wish you had an off button sometimes.” Jason sighed as he made his way to the chips section.
An employee, mopping the floor with a bored expression, looked up from what he was doing when he saw the Wayne gang talking loudly. Dick tried to control his brothers from inside the cart, and had just told Jason to separate a fight between Tim and Damian. Duke and Cass snicker as they saw a bored, six feet tall Jason pushing his much smaller brothers apart.
“Yep.” The employee murmured to himself “Billionaires shopping at Walmart at four in the morning. Just a normal night.”
Hey! If you made it this far, please consider reblogging this? It helps with spreading my fics and it makes me very happy, hahahaha!
Part 1 here:https://fearfulkittenwrites.tumblr.com/post/632787449340461056/a-hurt-bird-part-1-sprained-ankles-and-ice
Summary: Your bird took a very big hit tonight. Helping him back on his feet this time around might be a little difficult, but mama didn't raise a quitter.
(This chapter is a bit more angsty than the other one, and the injuries are a bit nastier, so be warned!)
Notes: Hey! So. This chapter... might be rougher than the last one. I didn't edit it properly, bc for some reason I just... couldn't. I haven't been posting in a while and decided that i'd try to kick it back in action with this chapter, bc it's something I wrote some time ago and had been meaning to post next anyway. So please bare with me, and be kind if there are any weird sentences or something like that.
Regardless, I hope you'll enjoy it!
At around five in the morning, you were once again woken up by a loud thump coming from your fire escape. This time, however, you heard your first name being called, and you already knew who was on the other side. Sliding quickly out of bed, you pulled your window open to find Nightwing sitting on the metal floor, out of breath and very bloodied.
“Hey.” He said, voice tired and breathing shallow, “I really hope you meant what you said last time.”
“Oh my God.” You covered your mouth with your hand, climbing out of the window to help him up. Once again you supported his weight with your shoulders, with a little more effort due to his awful state. He coughed a little as you sat him down on a kitchen chair.
“No couch this time?” He smiles, even though he’s clearly too tired and weak to give the teasing it’s usual bite.
“Not before I clean you up and make sure you’re not falling asleep the moment I make you comfortable.” You searched under the sink for your medical kit, placing it on the table as you ran to the bathroom to get some towels “Tell me what happened.” You ask, searching his head for any obvious and serious injuries.
“There was a trap.” He coughed again, spitting up blood “I... Too many of them. Very well trained. I was-” Another coughing fit interrupted his words “Too cocky.”
“I actually believe that.” You tease, both of you laughing “Okay, look, I think you might have had a concussion. I need to take you to a hospital so they can monitor you, this-.”
“No.” He cuts you off, grabbing your wrist “No hospitals. Just keep me awake until I can move again.”
“What are you...”
“I have a friend.” He coughs some more “He has resources to help me, I just need to be able to get to him.”
“I- I can take you there. If you just-.”
“No.” He says, in a serious tone “I just need to catch my breath.”
“Okay.” You say, heart racing “Okay. Please let go of me now.”
“I’m... sorry.” He loosens his grip, letting you go and looking down.
“It’s okay. I’m fine. Let me clean this blood, okay?” You say, rubbing the wrist he grabbed as Nightwing nodded.
You wet a small towel, delicately pressing it against his face, rubbing a little to clean the blood running down his forehead and cheeks. Most of it was already dry, injuries already starting to heal, but there was a small cut on his forehead, right above his mask, that was still dripping. You pressed on it with a dry cloth after you cleaned his face as well as you could, trying to get it to stop.
“How do you even...” His breathing seemed to be slowly recovering, but he still coughs a bit before speaking “Know how to do this?”
“I have my secrets, Nightwing.” You smile softly at him, removing the cloth from his face. Once again, you swept through with the wet one, trying to get all of the red and brown off his face.
“Are you a nurse?”
“No.” You giggle “I just... let’s just say my brother is not an easy person. I used to patch him up all the time growing up. The first aid kit is mostly for when he needs help after getting into a fight.”
“A street brawler, huh?”
“Yeah.” You answer, wetting another towel to clean around the cut on his stomach “Can I?” You asked, and he nodded.
“Is he any good?”
“No.” You snort “Quite the opposite.” He hissed in pain as you cleaned around the wound “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He replied, grimacing “The adrenaline is starting to drop, so everything is hurting more.”
“I see. I think I may have some painkillers, let me get them for you.” You got up and walked to your medicine box, taking your paracetamol pills out and handing them to him.
“Wait. I think I’m gonna...” He breathes deeply, trying to get up but losing his balance quickly.
You read the signs fast, and handed him a plastic bag quickly. He emptied his stomach in it, and you gently rubbed his back through it. Taking the bag away from him with a grossed look, you tied a knot on it, tossing it on the garbage can, figuring you’d worry about it later.
“Sorry...” He mumbles.
“Don’t be.” You picked up two glasses, filling one with water and leaving the other empty “Here. Take a sip, clean your mouth, spit it here. Then drink the rest of the water with the medicine, okay?” He nods, doing what you told him to. You left the cups on the sink, going back to his stomach. The cuts seemed superficial enough, and it had mostly stopped bleeding. His uniform must have taken a lot of the damage.
You pushed him forward a little, examining his back. Nothing seemed to be too serious, so you set him back down against the chair.
“Okay. You’re doing so well Nightwing.” You praised in a whisper “I just need you to keep talking to me, alright?”
“Yeah, okay.” His breathing was almost back to normal again, and you searched his scalp for any cuts once more.
“This is weird. There’s a lot of blood on your hair, but I can’t find a cut.” You whisper, still delicately moving your fingers through his hair.
“That’s because it’s not my blood.”
“Oh.” You removed your hands “Okay.” He huffed a small laugh at your reaction “What? Is this funny?”
“A little, yes.” He answers.
You turned around to get the gel ice pack you bought after his last visit, pressing it on his head.
“Oh, you bought a proper ice pack, huh?” He asks, taking it on his hands.
“Figured it could come in handy.” You smirk “You know, just in case another bloodied masked crime fighter decided to come by.”
He gasped in an exaggerated manner.
“You’ve been cheating on me?” He asks, with a fake exasperation “Who is it? No, don't tell me, I don’t want to know.”
You laughed.
“How can you joke so much at a moment like this?” You ask, pulling a chair and sitting across from him.
“I mean, I have to keep myself sane somehow.” Nightwing shrugs.
“I see.” You stared at him for a while “Let me get a band-aid for that cut. Also, I can give you stitches on your stomach, if you’re comfortable with it.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s fine. Thank you.”
You rummaged through your medicine box.
“Oh, shoot.” You murmur.
“What is it?” He looked up.
“Um... I only have Hello Kitty band-aids.” You turn around, grimacing as you hold up the box.
“Because they are cheaper?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He laughs “I buy those too. When you need them as often as I do, you can’t really be too picky.”
“I guess not.” You smiled, picking up an antiseptic spray “Close your...” You squinted, looking at the mask “Or not. I keep forgetting you wear this thing.” He smiled as you sprayed his skin and then placed the band-aid on the cut “There. Look, if it’s not too... forward of me,” You rolled your eyes, a stupid smile on your lips “Is it okay if I ask you to take off your top and step into the shower? I kinda need to clean this a little better.”
“Oh. Okay. But I’ll need some help getting there.” He says.
Once again, you wrapped an arm around his waist and allowed him to support his weight on you. Setting him down on the shower floor, you realized you couldn’t simply turn on your shower and spray his entire body with water.
“Uhm, wait here.” You rushed out of the bathroom, coming back with a big bucket and a cup.
“What are those for?” He frowns.
“Cleaning you.” You explain, filling the bucket on the sink, hoping it would come out warm enough “Trust me, I’ve done this a couple of times.”
“Have you?” He raises an eyebrow.
“I did something similar.” You tried “I mean... it’s better than nothing, right?”
“I guess.” He says “Um... I’m gonna take it off now. If that’s okay.” He pointed at his shirt.
“Oh, yeah, go ahead.” You turned around slightly, taking your gaze away from his body and back to the bucket, trying to give him some privacy. When you glanced back his shirt was already off and your eyes widened.
“What?” He laughed at your reaction.
“I... I didn’t think a torso could get this bruised.” Your heart swelled at the sight; Nightwing had his head resting against the wall, mouth slightly open as he breathed. He had bruises all over his body; some were a bright shade of red, probably from tonight, some were in a deep blackish purple, and some were already taking on a more yellow tone.
“I mean... there really isn’t much I can do to avoid it.”
“No, I know, I wasn’t... making fun.” You kneeled next to him, bringing the bucket and cup with you “I... it’s a little scary, that’s all.” You swallow harshly, hands a little shaky as you pick up some water from the bucket “I’ll try to be gentle and quick, but... I think it’s gonna hurt anyways.”
“That’s fine.” He whispers, noticing your nervousness “Hey, you don’t have to do this.”
“No, no, I do.” You answer, taking a deep breath.
“I’m not your responsibility.” He takes your hand, making you look at his face again.
“No, but you asked for my help.” You say, determination taking over you once again “So I’ll help.” You give him a small squeeze to his fingers before letting go.
Using the cup, you poured some water over his stomach, making him hiss.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
You gently applied soap around the wound, cleaning off the blood that had stuck to his skin before washing it off once again. As you gave him stitches, he grimaced, clenching his fists.
“Do not apologize again.” He cuts you off as you open your mouth “You’re doing nothing wrong.” You nodded, focusing on the wound again.
After finishing it up, you covered it in antiseptic and bandages.
“Okay. That’s it.” You looked at his face again “Who is this friend of yours that can help you?”
“Batman.”
You blinked.
“From Gotham?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re friends with the Bat of Gotham?”
“Is that so hard to believe?” He raises his eyebrows.
“A little, yes.”
“I- Why?” He asks, a little offended.
“Because,” You sigh “You two seem so different. Also, he’s so scary. I didn’t think he had any friends.”
He huffed out a laugh.
“He’s a bit of an asshole sometimes, but he’s...” He trailed off “I mean, he trained me, so...”
“Wait, he trained you?” You ask “So are those theories true? Were you Robin?”
He makes a face.
“Yeah. Not like you were supposed to know that.”
“I won’t tell.” You smile “This is awesome. You used to be Robin? Oh my God, it makes so much sense now.”
“What? What makes so much sense?” He asks, taken aback.
“I...” You grin at the floor, shaking your head “After last time, I... I may have researched you, a little?”
“Oh no...” He rubbed at his forehead.
“No, it was fun.” You laughed a little “You have so many fans. But um, I did come across some theories.”
“About what?”
“The Robin thing.” You shrug “Honestly, most of it seemed like it was a stretch. They analyzed your accent from the little recordings they could get, pointing out that you clearly weren’t from Gotham, trying to support the theory that you were from Blüd and just going through an internship of sorts. Some of them talked about your butt, for some reason? I don’t know how someone could feel okay while zooming in on a child’s butt though.”
“They talked about my butt?” He asks “Jesus, what’s wrong with people?”
“Right?”
“I mean, I know it looks real nice now, but my prepubescent butt was a talking point?” He shuddered “Weird.”
“Yeah.” You laughed “I have to ask though, why no pants? Because there are a lot of theories about Batman being a pedo.” Nightwing groaned and shoved his face in his hands.
“I don’t know, okay? I was nine, it made sense at the time.” You laugh at his response “Look, these fabrics weren’t as stretchy back then. The pants he had designed for me were too constrictive. I needed to be able to move, jump, do splits. Batman takes punches, I evade them.”
“So you just decided to go into battle with your undies?”
“They weren’t- I was nine!” He says, exasperated “My little child brain didn’t see any harm in it, okay? And Batman had no clue on how to say no to a kid, so that happened.”
“Okay, but when you got older, why didn’t you change your uniform?”
“It was a brand at that point, I couldn’t just- Oh, fuck off.” He pushed your face away as you laughed at him.
“Alright, alright, I won’t question it any further.” You giggled. As you watched him, an idea passed through your mind. You bit your lower lip for a second, and felt his gaze on your mouth “Let me wash your hair.” You ask.
“Huh?” He murmured, frowning a little “Why?”
“Because,” You tilted your head to the side “It’s full of blood. And I know that you like having someone give you a head scratch, so...” You shrug “Why not?”
“It will get your clothes wet.” He says.
“I’ll have to change soon anyways.” You smile “C’mon. Turn around. I’ll be gentle.”
“Okay.” Nightwing turned his back to you, tilting his head back slightly.
You picked up more water with the cup, wetting his hair. A brown and redish water dripped down his torso, bringing your attention to the scars he had there, small white lines, scattered through his tanned skin. You slowly massaged the shampoo through his hair, being extra gentle as to not bring him any extra pain. He sighed, nearly melting under your touch.
“You’re not very used to this, are you?” You whisper.
“To what?” He whispers back.
“Being taken care of.” He didn’t answer “But that’s okay. I’m taking care of you now.”
“You are.” He says, in a weak voice “Like an angel.” You heard him breathing “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” You say “In a way, we’re both angels.” You smiled.
“Yeah?” He asks, voice a little lighter again “How come?”
“Well, you’re Blüd’s oficial guardian angel, right?” You answer “Protecting all of us. Protecting me.” You smiled a little at the notion of Nightwing protecting you, especifically “And I can’t protect you, but you insist that I’m an angel so...”
“Yeah, well, you protect me too. In a way.” He shrugs.
“I guess.” You wash the shampoo off his hair, washing as the red tainted foam went down the drain.
You got up to get him a towel, and so did he. You stood on your tiptoes, ducking his hand to dry his hair a little.
“Wait, you don’t have to-”
“We’ve been over this already.” You say, ruffling his hair a little with the towel, before moving to pat his back dry too “I want to.” You moved back to face him, towel drying around his ears. He blushed “Aw, that’s cute, you’re embarrassed.” You tease.
“You’re really close.” He says, clearing his throat.
You stepped away, smirk on your face.
“You didn’t seem to mind that so much when you laid down on my lap.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I shouldn’t have done that either.” He almost murmured the words, looking down. You felt a knife go through your heart at that “Look, thank you for... everything. But I need to go now, I’m already standing up properly so... I’ll be on my way.” He picked up his bloodied shirt, pulling it back on.
“Are you sure you-”
“I’m fine.” He cuts you off, moving to the window he came in through “Thank you once again. For everything.” He left, not giving you a chance to answer.
“Sure...” You whisper to an empty apartment “You’re welcome.”
Hey! If you liked this, please consider rebloging! It helps spread my fics and makes me very happy :) Regardless, thank you for reading.
Okay, so I never intended to ever post anything here that isn’t fic related and I definitely didn’t intend on posting something remotely political here, however, it is 2020 and I can’t just not say this at least once: If you’re a Trump supporter, a Bolsonaro supporter, or even of any alt-right jerk whose name I don’t remember right now, please leave. I don’t think any of my followers are, but just be aware that if you are supporting these guys you are literally supporting people who think that the world would be a better place if I wasn’t in it.
So as a bi, non-christian woman, I am telling you, if you support fascists, leave this blog. My fics aren’t for you, because they are written by someone you hate.
Summary: Dick Grayson slowly realizes he can't depend on his family anymore, if he ever could in the first place. It's a painful path, but he'll learn how to take support from those willing to give, instead of having to punch it out of his stoic mentor.
Dick breathes in the cold morning air. It stings his lungs and burns his nose, but the rest of his body is still warm from the moving. The sun is rising in the dirty Blüdhaven horizon, shining through tall buildings, small houses and the few skyscrapers that color this part of the neighbourhood with their faded grays and shiny glass windows. It’s the best spot in the city. Not the highest one, being only about four or five stories tall, but it is the most comfortable, and provides a great view of the sun.
Some civilians have seen him there once or twice. Sometimes there’s a bit of food or some band-aids left there for him. This time, someone had left him Cinderella band-aids and a bottle of water, still chilled. They mark the gifts with a Nightwing sticker, or a drawing, or just his name. Eventually they’ll get it wrong, and he’ll fix it, leaving the corrected paper on the floor, weighted down by rocks, or a piece of wood, or whatever else he could find. Whenever he can, he leaves them a note with a smiley and a thank you.
He carefully puts the band-aid over the small cuts on his face; one on the chin, one on his right cheek, and one on the bridge of his nose. There are two left, and he keeps those for himself. Dick had been saving plenty of money with the gifts. Most of them were colorful and had some cartoon character on them. Someone must’ve started a rumor that Nightwing liked his bandages better when they were thematic. Not that it bothered him; he had started using some of those because they were cheaper – the civilians probably picked up on it and thought it was a matter of taste.
He looks down, taking a sip from the water bottle. This is the time of his day that is dedicated to thinking. Whenever he has the time to sit down and watch the sun rise, the silence and peace surrounding him force him to recall events and conversations his mind feels the need to take a second look at, either trying to make sense of it, or rejoicing in the good moments. This time, he found himself replaying a recent conversation with Batman, a weird one. But which one of those weren’t weird?
Dick sighs, bringing the bottle to his lips once again.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
What was that supposed to mean? Dick wanted advice, help, not a bland pep talk. Maybe Bruce had a bit too much confidence in him. Maybe that’s where it came from; the thought that Dick was already beyond his capacity to help, at least in that regard. Maybe it was that Dick had already surpassed him in the things that truly matter, at least to the Bat’s eyes. But it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.
It felt as if he was a hassle. A nuisance. It felt as if Dick had to shut up and get out of the cave, leave him and Damian alone because they had work to do, more important things to think about.
Oh yeah. Damian.
It didn’t help in the slightest that the kid had walked in on them and hidden in the shadows, fidgeting with his cape, before and after making his whereabouts known as he cleared his throat. The boy clearly wanted no part in the conversation, and certainly wished he hadn’t heard whatever it is that he did (Dick wasn’t sure on how much he heard. It seems like it was enough.).
Nightwing takes one more sip of the water before leaning his head back and allowing the few rays of sun to hit the exposed parts of his neck and face. The sky was tinted by a faded orange now, growing blue with every second that passed by. He looked down. A civilian was entering the building he was sitting on. She looked up at him, smiling in the kindest way he had ever seen anyone smile, and waved.
He waved back.
“Full night?” She asks.
Nightwing nods.
“I can see that yours was too.” He smiles back.
“A little, yes.” She steps back to better look at the man “My kid keeps leaving those to you, huh?” She points at him, probably mentioning the Cinderella stickers.
“Well, that’s kind of them.” He rubs a thumb over the plastic material “Helps me save up for other stuff. What’s their name?”
“Thomas.” She smiles.
“Beautiful name.” He grins “Thank him for me. And thank you, for paying for them.” He giggles.
“No problem.” She answers “We all like having you around, y’know?” She slaps her keys against her hands slightly “We all pitch in on the band-aids.”
“You’re all very kind.” He looks to the floor, smiling fading a little “I’m not sure I deserve so much of your money.”
“Oh, please boy.” She laughs “It’s band-aids and water. Not exactly expensive.”
“Still...”
“Let me stop you right there.” She is still smiling “We do this because we want to thank you. You made this neighbourhood safe. Hell, I’m not even afraid to let my son walk home from school any more ever since you got here.” There’s a bit of silence as her eyes dart to the ground before slowly going back up to him “If there’s ever anything you need, hero, all you have to do is ask.”
Dick is taken aback at that. Anything?
“Thanks.” He says. His mind speeds back to the conversation. Somewhere inside of him, there are red lights and alarms going off; don’t trust her she must be an impostor, she’s an enemy, don’t trust her, don’t trust her, don’t don’t don’t-
But he turns them off.
Those alarms have been screwed with by the Bat. They are Batman’s alarms, not Nightwing's.
Those are Bruce's Alarms.
Not Dick’s.
“Well, then... um, actually, if...” He starts, feeling his mouth dry up. It’s a good thing he had half a water bottle still “If you could spare me a minute ma’am, then... could you maybe offer me some advice?” He looks to his dangling feet, blushing with shame “I... I think I’m caught between a rock and a hard place, and I don’t know what to do.”
She smiles gently at him.
“Sure, son.” She answers, and Dick lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding “Let me check on my boy and I’ll be right up there with you.”
Nightwing nods. He doesn’t try to smile back, hunching over a little.
“Thank you.”
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