The fight had run long and everyone is exhausted. While Bruce is away on a top-secret intergalactic League mission, all of his wards decided to work as a team to take down Black Mask and his men. Only because it’s been a particularly unusual job, unusual even for Gotham. Black Mask had outsourced manpower from Bane himself to protect his precious cargo, a single chest the size of a serving platter. It was enough for all of them to be cautious and actually work together.
The Red Hood is making sure every single hired muscle is tied up and unconscious. “Damn. Black Mask sure gave us a fight for this one.” He rubs his gloved hands together while he walks toward the chest. “Makes you wonder what’s inside.”
Nightwing, Robin, Red Robin, Spoiler, Orphan, and the Signal have been circling the cargo as well. Scanning it. Observing it. It’s not made out of gold or silver, just a metal chest with a few dents on it from being roughly handled and eventually dropped during the fight.
Finally, cautiously, Robin and Red Robin squat down beside it to examine the locks. It’s nothing advanced. In fact, they were just multiple bulky old-fashioned locks. Quietly, the two of them worked together on opening it.
The tension and anticipation are so thick in the air until Spoiler couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “What is it?” She asked as soon as Robin’s gloved hands are holding the lid and lifting it slowly.
Red Robin is the first to see a glinting sheen. “Some kind of precious stone?” he remarks. When Robin has the lid all the way down, all of them could see the thing that’s inside. “Not a stone--”
“An egg,” Robin finishes.
“Ohmygod,” Nightwing interrupts, “Are we doing Eragon--”
His mouth hangs open. All of their eyes are glued to the egg in front of them as it rocked in its place and then the sound of a tiny crack echoed inside the harbor warehouse and made their hearts stop. They watch the small intermittent ruptures extend until it finally formed a jagged piece. A piece that’s pushed out by you.
“It hatched.”
Your small black claws grip the edge of the egg as you slowly peak over the opening. There are seven gigantic figures crouching down and looking at you closely. They blink. So you blink.
✧ ✧ ✧
“Who did she look at first?” Jason’s chest rumbles when he speaks and you find the vibration soothing. “Because she’s definitely imprinting on me right now.”
Tim rolls his eyes as Jason secures you more firmly in his arms and against his chest. You nuzzle the tip of your mouth against the soft thin fabric of his undershirt. “After hatching from the egg she needs to be incubated. It only makes sense that she’d latch onto you ‘cause you’re the one with the strongest body heat here.”
Your soft claws dig into Jason’s bear arms after hearing Tim’s voice, another soothing sensation to your newfound senses.
Suddenly, a golden curtain sneaks up on your vision and you’re met with another one of your giants. “I have body heat, too,” she whines. Then, with a gentler voice she speaks to you, “Hey, little you. Wanna come to mama? I bet I’m a lot softer than this rugged old man.”
Jason tries to tuck you away from her but you’re already crawling towards Steph. She snorts in victory as you settle on her chest. Her bare skin is a lot gentler on your soft scales.
Two other heads lower down to look at you and you welcome them both by flicking out your tongue and touching the tips of their noses. Cass laughs at the wetness while Dick pouts.
“How come she’s not acting like the dragon from the movie?” He reaches for your featherless wings, “She hasn’t even opened them once--” and tries to pull on them, causing you to hiss in fear.
He quickly retracts his arm and spouts rushed apologies. From the few hours they’ve known you, they at least know that you do not like your limbs being pulled.
Damian walks in with a scowl on his face while nursing his bandaged hand. “What did you do?” he accuses Dick right away.
“He tried to pull on her wings,” Duke spits out right away. Everyone shifts their glares at him because he still hasn’t gotten rid of his instinct to tattle, a habit that’s gravely unwelcome among Batman’s wards.
“Tsk.” Damian walks up to Steph to examine you closely, making sure you’re unhurt. He’s also close enough for you to lick his nose. Your smallest giant. The giant who helped you climb out of your egg and onto his harm.
Damian was so curious at your mysterious physique that he couldn’t help running his fingers along your trunk and then pulling on the spiked ball that was the tip of your tail. So you bit him.
Everyone shouted and Duke swatted you away making you fall on the ground. Scared and helpless. But it was Damian who extended his other hand again and picked you up to take you home.
You’ve been staring at him long enough that Steph gently hands you to him. Damian carries you with both of his hands. You may only be a little longer than his forearm, but you easily extend beyond his embrace.
“I’m taking her with me to Nanda Parbat.”
Angry gasps fill the room and you watch tensely as your bigger giants quickly surround him.
“What?”
“Give her back,” Steph’s the only one who stomps toward Damian.
Damian doesn’t step back. “The manor is no place to raise a dragon.”
“But it’s enough for a demon,” Jason quips, “and we’ve survived.”
“The League of Assassins is centuries old. My family is the greatest source we have to find out more about her species.”
“Good lord.”
Everyone turns and freezes the moment they see Alfred in his robe and nightdress. His hands are shaking while he ties his robe around his waist and stares wide-eyed at you. You blink at the new older giant who’s standing underneath the doorway. He doesn’t blink back.
“Alfred, we can explain--”
“You brought home a baby dragon…”
Finally, once the absurdity of it all has been voiced out, Bruce’s wards can finally feel the gravity of this single night.
✧ ✧ ✧
Batman is too far out in another galaxy to be reached and his wards didn’t want the League to know about you. In their eyes, your giants are still children and they would take you away from them.
Instead, another family member was called.
When Ra’s Al Ghul makes it to the manor’s front door alongside his daughter, he stops. They turn to each other and wonder if they should just break-in. But they didn’t come here to intrude. Damian had invited them over and so they knock and wait.
There’s nothing more surreal than the Al Ghul’s having tea with Alfred and Bruce’s wards, everyone out of their costumes and combat gear. Well almost everyone.
“Why aren’t you guys in costume? That’s Ra’s Al Ghul,” the Signal whispers behind his cup of tea.
“‘Cause he’s Ra’s Al Ghul,” Tim answers. “If anyone knows who we are, he would.”
Jason leans in and gives the Signal his own two-cents, “Plus, they came to the manor and not the cave. That should’ve been your heads up.”
Frustrated, he takes off his mask and sinks into his chair, letting the previous silence continue to grow in the Wayne sitting room.
Then Dick breaks it, “So Damian told you and you came here, huh?”
Talia smiles while her father continues to drink his tea with his eyes shut. “Wouldn’t you?” she teases, “I’m sure even beloved himself would come down from his perch if you had told him there’s a dragon in the manor.” Talia watches in amusement as Bruce’s wards swallow. She turns to Jason for confirmation. After having been raised by Talia after his resurrection, he knew he couldn’t lie to her so he looks away. “So you truly haven’t told him.”
Finally, Damian walks back into the room with Steph who’s been holding you gently against her chest while you slept. When you pick up the new scents in the room, you immediately wake up and turn to them.
To everyone’s surprise, Ra’s Al Ghul quickly stands. He stares at you. And very slowly he walks forward to meet you. He gazes down. Old ancient eyes study you deeply while you stare at him and blink.
Of course, a living breathing dragon would be something the League is interested in-- something he’s interested in. After centuries on this Earth, he has never seen one and has at least once wondered if they truly exist. But today his grandson offers him that experience.
You turn to Bruce and he’s already glaring at you. He’s already put two and two together and summed up the rest of your story.
You gulp before telling him, “She wants to help the Justice League stop Luthor but… in exchange for a big favor.”
You slept early. Earlier than Bruce. You pace quickly in the black space as you wait for him to arrive, all the while grasping the replica of your phone. The screen’s brightness shines in the darkness like a floodlight.
When Bruce finally arrives, his bat suit blends in with the empty dreamscape and you don’t see him at first. But you hear his thoughts as he freely lets them loose, foregoing all trained inhibitions because he’s now with you. Then you find out that he already knows.
Your head whips around harshly and you’re glaring at him. “You read her message.”
Bruce stops mid step and stations himself on the spot. He’s feeling the air with both your subconscious in it. You know this. You expected it. Without ever having to tell you, you know he keeps watch of you outside of this safe haven. His diligence tripled after Luthor and Crane’s stunt.
He’s too far away to personally keep you safe and keeping you close would only put a larger target on your back. He knows you understand why. But now he’s trying to figure out why you’re on edge.
You shake your head. You can feel him filtering through your swimming thoughts.
“Did you find her?” you ask.
Ah. There it is. He realizes that this isn’t about the two of you. This is about Luthor and his soulmate. This is about you worrying after she had sent you that message. Thanking you for helping her get in touch with the Justice League and apologizing for all the trouble she’s caused. She also promised to keep Luthor in check as much as she could.
“No.”
“You have to find her, Bruce. What if she’s in danger?”
Bruce continues walking toward you. As he walks, the air shifts, and the space is slowly forming.
“Green Arrow saw her follow Luthor willingly,” he answers her.
You almost couldn’t believe it. When she asked them to take away Luthor’s memories of her, her resolve was unwavering. She was willing to give Luthor the life he’s always wanted even if it meant she’ll never be in it.
Bruce is standing next to you now, while the two of you are on a farm, under a big tree, and looking out at a big pile of ashes on the ground. He takes off his cowl. “We took care of Luthor’s labs and took all his research and artifacts connected to the soulmate links. They’re all in League custody. We also searched his past residences in case he kept something sentimental connected to her.”
That’s when you hear it in the air, the unspoken information that you’re standing where Luthor had grown up and where they had met. Bruce fills your subconscious with short notes about the ashes that had once been Luthor’s house. He keeps them short and factual to avoid overloading your emotions.
“And did he?” you ask.
Bruce purses his lips and doesn’t answer. He does it when he knows you won’t like hearing the answer. But you think he does it because he doesn’t like it either. He changes the dreamscape back to darkness.
“But he has his memories back?” you ask even though you already know the answer. It’s the only reason why she would follow him. That means Luthor has finally accepted her as his soulmate. But you need to hear it from Bruce to be sure, to be hopeful.
“Miss Martian reported an anomaly in his memory bank. It was well organized and clearly labeled–”
“A trap.”
“A distraction.” You stare at Bruce with a puzzled look. “Luthor’s brain was overwhelming. Miss Martian would have found it too taxing to verify each and every memory and thought. She had to trust that everything was labeled accurately.”
“And you let her,” you interrupt, “That means you already knew that Luthor was aware of the plan. He had a failsafe.”
Bruce hums to himself and you could feel his thoughts swimming around you before he speaks, “It had to be a single memory. Short enough to hide from a telepath but strong enough to incite every other memory he’s ever had.”
Bruce doesn’t say anymore but you stop feeling his buzzing subconscious in the air, no longer analyzing relentlessly, as if he’s figured it out.
“It was a memory of her, wasn’t it?” you blurt out. Bruce doesn’t respond. He’s not sure whether the answer will make you happy or not.
Instead of answering, he shifts the space into the batcave and walks toward his computer. But he doesn’t miss the twitch of your fingers and the way your knees lock in place once the space has fully formed.
“Maybe–,” you start to say but the screams, gunshot, and maniacal laughter in your head echo loudly. You want to be anywhere but here. You want to ask for a different space but there’s no need to say anymore because Bruce quickly shifts the surrounding into the Watchtower.
“I’m sorry,” he says as he walks back to you.
Bruce may relive his nightmares every night but not enough time has passed for you to forget what it was like to feel like you’re dying. You think no time will ever be enough to forget the guilt and sorrow you felt when you were dying in front of Bruce. His hopelessness and desperation. They were heavy in the air and it suffocated you, pushing down on your chest. It felt like Bruce’s mind was willing you to death.
Bruce holds your hand and squeezes it. You can feel his own dread weighing in the air. You don’t want that. There’s more than enough of it in here and out there. You try to cheer up while looking around the Watchtower.
“So all and all, everything turned out alright.” You sigh in relief, giving yourself time to dispel your own negative thoughts. When you turn to him, your smile is genuine, “I’m glad.” But he squeezes your hand again. “Oh!” you exclaim, taking your hand away to bring it to your face. You want to change the subject. “The Fate sister! Is she…”
Bruce purses his lips and narrows his eyes. He studies you for only a second before he sighs. “With her sisters,” he answers while he turns to the Watchtower screen. It turns on to show you a clip of the Fate sisters and their reunion. “The League wanted to hold her for questioning. So we can be better prepared next time someone targets the links. But she’s still a civilian so we let them go.”
You’re relieved to find him irritated. It’s very subtle. Narrowed eyes with pupils slightly moving side to side as he prevents himself from rolling his eyes. No doubt a mannerism he had in his younger years and Alfred had conditioned it out of him.
You snicker, “I’m sure her sisters were ecstatic. Cryptic but ecstatic.”
“They were… helpful.” Bruce takes a moment before he turns to you and plants a scene in the middle of the Watchtower lobby. “They let us keep the cauldron and the scissors.”
Bruce replays his memory of what happened at Luthor’s private lab where Luthor severed his link with his soulmate. You watch his soulmate beg for her memories and notice how she continued to caress him as they stole his. You hear and witness everything and your knees are suddenly weak but your soulmate holds you.
Bruce speaks as the scene dissolves in front of you. “Some links automatically stop once the soulmate’s meet. But they’re still tied to each other.”
Then, you feel it. A question hangs in the air and it’s so heavy you feel your muscles straining to keep you standing. With wide eyes and quivering lips, you turn to your soulmate. Bruce asks you something he’s wanted to ask you for the longest time. Ever since the first night, you appeared in his nightmare.
“Would you like to stop meeting here?”
You knew it was coming but you’re still stunned. No thought fills the air. He watches you closely to figure out your answer before he hears it. But he doesn’t. So he furrows his brows and his mouth curls down when he looks at the ground.
You know it’s not because he doesn’t want you. You know perfectly well why he’s asking if you want to sever your link. This is the dreamscape where your subconscious runs freely. There is no room for misunderstandings here.
Bruce’s voice is lower when he speaks again. “We have the means to cut our link and dream on our own again. No more nightmares, Y/N.”
You frown. You frown so deeply and your eyes water as you watch the lines on his brows grow more prominent and the way his eyes twitch as he stares hard at the stark grey floor. You reach out to touch his cheeks and make him turn to you. Your lips quiver when you speak and you hold him in your hands to keep him right where he is.
“There’ll always be nightmares, Bruce.” You lean forward until your forehead touches his and you close your eyes. “Whether it’s yours or mine, at least we’ll go through it together.”
Bruce opens his mouth to speak but his jaws are shaking and his teeth are clashing. Instead he kisses you on the forehead. His lips press firmly against your skin and too soon he pulls back.
“You shouldn’t have to,” he whispers.
You grit your own teeth and your tears are still falling. “No one should.”
You grip the hem of his cape and pull him close until he’s pressed against you. You clutch tightly, afraid he’ll disappear from your dreams, afraid he’s not real. But he is. He’s here and you feel it. You feel it when he wraps his arms around you and how his hands grip your shoulders. You feel it when he buries his face in your hair and lets out the shaky breath he’s been holding.
You let yourselves stay in this peaceful moment, without words and without thoughts. Until it’s broken by a familiar song. You throw your head back with a laugh, tears still in your eyes when you finally speak, “Rick Astley?!” And Bruce thinks he could never be more enamored by you than in this moment. “Is that your alarm?” you ask in disbelief.
He shakes his head and surprisingly he gives you a small smile and turns away slightly. “It’s my communicator at the manor. Dick changed it.”
You immediately stop laughing but you try to keep up a small smile as you disentangle yourselves. “So the work continues,” you tease and Bruce replies with a small nod. You can tell he’s composing himself because once he wakes up, he’s no longer just your soulmate but the dark knight of Gotham City. “You need a break.”
Bruce turns to you and finds you smiling impishly. He returns it with a smirk of his own. “I do.” His attention turns to the large monitor displaying the Justice League insignia. “Most likely, the League will force me to file for one sometime soon.”
You laugh and eye him curiously. “Where are you gonna go?”
Bruce looks at you, one eyebrow raised and there’s a subtle glint in his eyes. “Would you like to see the Watchtower in person?”
“Master Bruce,” Alfred says gently, “It appears to be an alteration of Scarecrow’s fear toxin.”
Bruce groans as he drops down from the table, “What kind of alteration?”
Alfred doesn’t answer him right away. Instead, he stares at Bruce and from the way he looks, he might already know, “It’s a lot milder. Mild enough to not affect your consciousness…” he let his words hang as he watches the slow recognition dawn on Bruce’s face. “And only affect you while you’re unconscious.”
Bruce clenches his fists and suddenly finds it hard to swallow.
“They know.”
Bruce tried his best to avoid sleeping for the next two weeks until the fear toxin was completely out of his system. Even then, he doesn’t see you in his dreams for almost a month. He doesn’t think it’s because you’re not sleeping. His best guess is that you bought link blockers from the black market and took them.
Incredibly irresponsible but a smart move. If you had been in the dreamscape with Bruce’s subconscious, you would have died a thousand different ways in the hands of a different villain every night. Just like he did.
Bruce Wayne can handle his own death. He’s prepared himself for it before he first took up the mantle. He visualizes it every night and he always dies alone.
He doesn’t want the people he cares about to get hurt. Not just physically. He doesn’t want anyone to see him die and have to carry that image throughout their lives. He loves his parents but sometimes he wishes he would stop seeing their faces in the darkness. He wishes he didn’t have to live through it over and over again, every single night.
The alley light flickers over their dead bodies and Bruce looks up at the sight of a shadow walking into the light. He knows it’s not you. He knows the you in front of him was made by his own subconscious. A perversion.
You kneel down, your bare knees crunching the gravel that pokes at your skin, but you’re smiling as if it doesn’t hurt. As if his parents aren’t dead behind you.
You touch him, your palms pressing against his cheeks and lifting his face to look at you. To turn away from the bodies and only look into your eyes. Gentle and warm unlike the cold and stench of Crime Alley.
Your thumb brushes his cheekbones and it makes him weak. Bruce wishes this made him sick to his stomach but he misses you so much he lets this poor copy of you pull him into an embrace.
Its arms cling around his neck. It snuggles its nose just below his ear. One of its hands cup the back of his head and tangle its fingers in his hair. Mimicking everything you do, exactly as you do it when you embrace him. A perfect replica of everything Bruce remembers about your touch.
It’s only when Bruce wakes up that he feels the repulsion of what he’s done.
One night, after a difficult mission with the League that brought them no closer to uncovering more of Luthor’s plans, Bruce enters the dreamscape and finds himself in the main hall of the Watchtower.
He wonders if he accidentally went through the zeta tube instead of his bedroom door. But then he sees you staring out the window. He tries to make you go away and you feel the push of his subconscious.
You turn around and stare at him. Bruce is startled, one foot raised in midstep like a burglar caught red-handed. You narrow your eyes at him.
“You’ve been spending your nights with a fake me.”
You didn’t need to hear the answer because the guilt already made its way around the creases of Bruce’s face.
“We promised.”
Bruce walks toward you slowly. He takes your hand in his and kisses the back of it. “Forgive me.”
You watch Bruce hide his face from you, bowing down before you. You gently retrieve your hand and hold his cheeks in your palms. As you lift his head, you look at him with your brows furrowed.
“Have you been lonely?” you ask. Bruce closes his eyes and presses against your touch. You pull him closer until you can hide your face in his chest, hiding the creases of your own brows. “I’m sorry, too.”
Your soulmate lifts your head from his chest and kisses you.
You have always expected the things in the dreamscape to be surreal, after all, they only resemble what could be. But whenever you kiss, it feels so warm and all-consuming that you know in your heart this is what Bruce’s kiss tastes like in the waking world.
He pulls away and gives himself just enough space to look at you. To memorize every contour, every bump, every sunken skin on your face. Bruce knows his subconscious could never replicate your perfection.
You smile at Bruce and then suddenly grab hold of his cheeks too quickly, making a slapping sound in the dreamscape.
“Bruce! I have good news. Great news!”
While Bruce mimics your wide eyes, yours from excitement, his from your pseudo-slap, you alter the Watchtower lobby into what looks like a cramped temple with small Greek columns.
“You went to the Fates,” Bruce assumes immediately. He’s frowning.
Despite his growing fondness for you and your link, Bruce detests the whole soulmate business and the Fate sisters. He believes anyone who’s not willing to cooperate with the Justice League has something sinister to hide.
“I didn’t plan on going to them,” you turn to your soulmate with a sheepish look and playful smile, knowing what you’re about to say is much worse. “I was at the black market--” Bruce knows but just hearing your confession made him narrow his eyes. “But you wouldn’t believe who I met there--”
An apparition of you enters the small temple, following another figure who places an offering at the atrium and calls out to the Fates.
“That’s Lex Luthor’s soulmate.”
Bruce almost can’t believe what you’re saying. He doesn’t understand why you’re smiling. “Y/N--”
“It’s not what you think,” because you already know exactly what he’s suggesting. Being in each other’s subconscious has made both of you more sensitive to each other’s tells. “His soulmate wants to helps us, Bruce.”
“How do you know she’s Luthor’s soulmate.”
“Because she knows who I am,” Bruce narrows his eyes, trying to think deeply while listening to you. “They have a memory link, one of the rarest. It plants the soulmate into someone’s memories so it feels like they’ve been together their whole lives. One of the memories she was in was when Luthor found out about our link and hired Scarecrow to make your fear toxin.”
Silence suddenly filled the dreamscape and all figures have stopped. Even you and Bruce. You haven’t talked about your last night together. Everything that transpired. Haunting memories relived. You dying.
You’re startled by the hand that holds you. Bruce squeezes your hand until you look him in the eyes. His gaze is gentle. His eyes are almost glistening.
“Luthor could have put her up to this,” he says softly.
“He didn’t.”
“What makes you so sure, Y/N?”
Bruce only ever calls you by your first name when he’s being his most affectionate. When you’re hiding in your whispers, under the sheets, or crying to wakefulness. He says it now because Bruce Wayne is genuinely fearful of what might happen to you.
“Because I met her, Bruce.” Before he could say another word, you hold up your hand, a gentle tell to let you continue. “I could tell that she loves Luthor. That’s why she wants to help us stop him.”
Bruce is shaking his head, “I don’t understand, Y/N.”
You smile at Bruce and turn back to the apparitions in the temple. Two more figures enter the room. Two old women in grey loose tunics that flowed down to the cobbled floor. Luthor’s soulmate bows down to pick up her offering and hands it to them.
The scene continues silently and you lean in to whisper to Bruce, “She’s asking for their forgiveness because Luthor kidnapped one of their sisters a few years ago.”
Bruce’s brows furrow, connecting the dots in his head, realizing how Luthor has been able to do the unthinkable with the links. “He’s been planning this for years?”
“According to his soulmate, since he was 17. Ever since he found out about their link.” You suddenly had the urge to wrap your arms around Bruce as you continue to look into the temple.
Bruce rubs the small of your back. “I take it that he wasn’t very happy about the arrangement.”
“Ever the detective,” you tease but without heart.
You watch the scene continue. Luthor’s soulmate straightens up and addresses each of the sisters.
“I just want to know if Lex’s plan will work. If it’s possible that he can use the links’ power to alter destiny itself.”
Bruce grits his teeth. “So that’s his endgame.”
The Fate sisters turn to each other. The tallest and wisest one answers her, “Child, there is no such thing as destiny. Not the one you think of. The only real destiny is death. Even for those who think themselves immortal.”
You chuckle a little despite the atmosphere. It’s one of the things Bruce has loved about you. “Makes you grateful you don’t have to talk to them for League business.”
Bruce smirks.
“But I need your help! We have to stop him or more people are going to lose their links and get hurt. Don’t you want your sister back?”
The smaller sister, the compassionate one, touches her arm, “Our sister will survive. We’re not the ones to help you. You know this.” The sisters said their goodbyes and left the atrium. Luthor’s soulmate turns to you before the dream vanishes and returns you and Bruce to the Watchtower lobby.
You turn to Bruce and he’s already glaring at you. He’s already put two and two together and summed up the rest of your story.
You gulp before telling him, “She wants to help the Justice League stop Luthor but... in exchange for a big favor.”
You rest your head on your knees as you look at Tim. Your lips tremble as you watch him struggle with his thoughts.
He stares at his hands with narrowed eyes before you hear his broken voice.
“... I don’t know if I want to be Robin anymore.”
The morning dragged on agonizingly slow with Tim hiding in your room, Bruce nursing a drink in the kitchen, and Alfred sitting beside him. But when Bruce’s phone rang and the hospital told him that his son, Richard Grayson, was just admitted into Gotham General, everything sped past like a blur.
The city traffic buzzing through the car’s window. The loud reporters hounding you at the entrance. The doctor’s mouth moving in silence as he reads from a chart, explaining Dick’s condition. You were only picking up words like critical and surgery.
The first thing you became conscious of was Alfred’s hand on your shoulder. “Y/N. He’s going to be okay.” You didn’t even notice your tears until he was wiping them away.
It’s past midnight in the hospital room. Tim is sleeping on the couch. Alfred is in an extra bed. Bruce had just stepped out for coffee. And you’re still awake, curling up in the armchair closest to Dick. You’re holding his hand and looking at the fringes of his hair lying on his forehead. Slowly you loosen your grip to brush them back, but Dick’s fingers curl around yours.
You’re too busy staring at his hand when he opens his eyes.
“Hi…”
You cover your mouth to trap the sob that’s lodged in your throat. “Dick--”
He smiles. “H-hey hey. I’m okay.” He sounds exhausted but he still tries to laugh. “It’s just-- what? Like broken ribs again?”
You frown at him, “One punctured your spleen, Dick. They had to stitch it up during surgery.”
Dick chuckles, “Another one? Man. I swear I get one every other month. I probably passed out on Jason.”
“You were with Jason?” your voice hitched a little but you lower it right away and check on Alfred and Tim.
“Oh yeah… we had a nice little chat…” Dick’s looking at you now while frowning. “So… you’re leaving.”
You pause and then look down when you answer, “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from Jason since yesterday morning.”
Dick raises one eyebrow and teases you, “The morning after?”
“Shut up,” you snap at him in a whisper, making him snicker quietly. You blush but you can’t help give a small laugh as well.
Dick smiles at you.
“He told me you were leaving and I was hoping to charm the two of you into staying.” He gives you a look, one that’s both sad and disappointed. “But I don’t really think that’s an option, huh.”
Dick squeezes your hand and your voice is a lot softer when you answer, “He killed the Joker, Dick. In front of Bruce.”
“Yeah. He told me.”
“And you almost died, too.”
Dick laughs, “Ye of little faith in me, Y/N. I had those guys--”
“But the bomb. That one was real--”
Dick shushes you. “Jason’s friends got me off the bridge before it went off. Guess you guys were too busy watching Jay and Bruce’s fight.”
Dick slumps back against the pillows and stares at the point where the ceiling and the wall meet. “I hate to say it but Jason thought of everything.”
Tim grumbles in his sleep and you both turn to him. Once the rise and fall of his chest becomes even, Dick speaks again.
“This must be hard on Tim, huh?”
Tim has been tossing and turning in his sleep. When he was in your room, he checked on his wound and was surprised to find that Jason had changed his bandages when he was unconscious.
You watched Tim’s surprised look slowly morph into one of anguish. He didn’t know how to believe that Jason and the Red Hood were one and the same. Or is he just a persona Jason created to do what he can’t do. To protect the hard truths he wanted Bruce to realize.
You close your eyes and slowly climb into the bed next to Dick. He makes room for you and you carefully curl up next to him.
“He told me he didn’t want to be Robin anymore,” you whisper.
Dick pats your head and hums to himself.
“If I was Jason and Tim-- I was them. I was Robin and I always thought… I always saw Bruce as more than just Batman. He was my dad and my friend. He was my protector.”
When Dick’s hand stops moving, you wrap your arms across his chest and hug him tightly. You can feel the even breaths he’s trying to maintain but failing.
“But after what Jason did--” you can hear him clenching his teeth as he speaks, “After realizing that Bruce will always be Batman--to everyone-- more than anything else in the world… it shatters something in you, like you’re not special...”
Before your life turned into this living tragedy, you always thought Batman was just a myth. You’ve seen him sure, leaping and gliding over rooftops from your window and from the streets, but you always knew he was just a man playing pretend. Maybe a police officer finally fed up with the red tapes and the joke that is the Gotham justice system.
You always thought Batman was just another Gothamite who just got sick of being battered and bruised.
“It doesn’t mean I agree with Jason, though.” Dick’s voice is a little lower. He’s giving you a long look with the same sad and disappointed expression. “His heart’s in the right place but Y/N, he’s the one who doesn’t understand.
“When Bruce first brought me in, my parents were murdered by this guy-- Tony Zucco-- just a typical low life mobster in Gotham you know-- no one like the Joker. But when I became Robin, Bruce’s greatest concern was whether I would seek vengeance against that guy.”
Dick’s gaze strays away from you. He’s looking somewhere past his feet, seeing something that’s not there.
“I had him, Y/N. I tied him up and suspended him over a ten-story building, half hoping he would die, or break every bone in his body from that height and live out the rest of his days as a vegetable.
“Then Batman came out of the shadows. He didn’t stop me. He didn’t talk to me-- he just put his hand on my shoulder the whole time, while I stood there and held this man’s lifeline in my hands.”
Dick closes his eyes and takes a deep breath but he doesn’t open them again. The skin at the corner of his eyes crease and there are folds in his brows. When he speaks again, it’s rushed and he sounds exhausted.
“In the end, I couldn’t do it. I dropped him from the third floor. He broke a few bones and that was it. It didn’t make me feel better. Killing him wouldn’t have brought my parents back-- it also wouldn’t prevent another family from ever being murdered…
“Jason thinks he can get rid of evil in the world by killing criminals but he can’t. Because everyone is nursing evil inside of them-- I have something evil inside me.”
Dick’s lips are quivering when he opens his eyes again.
“Batman is the only one that doesn’t because all he wants to do is protect... everyone.”
Bruce has heard enough. He’s been standing outside the hospital room with his hand on the handle when Dick started talking about avenging his parents. Desperately, he wants to go in there and join you and Dick. But the writing on your arm pushes him to visit the rooftop instead.
He steps out to meet Gotham’s foggy air and reaches the end of the ledge when he calls out, “Worried about Dick?” He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t hear Jason’s footsteps approaching him from the shadows, but he knows he’s there. “You should be. He’s here because of you.”
Jason stops abruptly and clenches his fist. “Wrong. He’s hurt because of your self-righteous courtesy toward the psychotic filth of Gotham.”
Bruce turns around. Jason doesn’t have his helmet or his mask. He’s wearing a black trench coat but Bruce can still see the Red Hood symbol peeking from his chest. Bruce lifts one corner of his lips. “How does it feel?”
To Jason it looks like a smirk on its ways to becoming a snarl. Any semblance of a smile on Bruce is unsettling.
Bruce faces him fully with his hands in his pants pockets. “Now that you’ve killed half of the inmates in Arkham, how does it make you feel?” He watches Jason and lowers his brows and his mouth turns into a straight line. “Like it’s not enough. Right? Like there’s still a few more loose ends-- and you just have to be sure.
“I know you went after Penguin and Dent after the club last night. I also know you’re still after Harley.” Bruce eyes his clothes.
Jason tips his head to the side and replies to Bruce with a small smile.
Bruce tries to control the urge to arrest Jason then and there. He tries to stop being Batman for just one second before he loses his son for good. He takes in a breath and releases it like a sigh. He takes out his hands to gesture to Jason.
“If I could give you one last piece of advice. As a father. As a friend. Ask yourself if this is the type of person you want Y/N’s soulmate to be. Do you want her to be with a murderer?”
Jason didn’t expect that. He was ready to have another go at Bruce, maybe their last showdown before he leaves town, but now he just feels insulted.
“Fuck you, Bruce. I just want her safe-- To do a better job than you did for me. Be better than you.”
Bruce shakes his head. “You can do that without taking another person’s life, Jason. Killing people will only put your lives in more danger.” He points to Jason’s chest. “And you-- the Red Hood-- are a testament to that.”
Jason looks down, the crimson symbol on his chest peeking at him from his loose coat. The Red Hood is supposed to be just a means to an end. A myth strong enough to withstand the Bat’s. A new player to hook in the Arkham villains. Not someone who’ll join their ranks.
Jason looks back to glare at Bruce.
“I didn’t come here for a lecture.”
The pause Jason gave didn’t go unnoticed to Bruce.
“I assume you’re here to see Y/N,” Bruce replies. “She’s talking to Dick. She hasn’t noticed your message yet.”
Bruce walks up to Jason and sizes him up. Jason watches as his demeanor changes. Bruce stands taller, his shoulders seem to go wider. Jason doesn’t need to see the cape to know who’s standing in front of him now.
“Leave Gotham before sunrise.”
Jason can see himself reflected in Batman’s eyes. He suddenly looks like a child. The kid sleeping on the streets of Gotham. Scavenging in the garbage just to get by. Stealing to survive.
Bruce sees his own reflection in Jason’s and it terrifies him. He relaxes his shoulders and leaves his eyes half-lidded. Slowly, he lifts his hand and places it on Jason’s shoulder.
“Take care of each other, son.”
Bruce takes back his hand and starts walking to the door but Jason slaps something against his chest. Bruce looks down and sees that it’s an envelope. He looks back at Jason but he’s looking away from him.
“Give it to Alfred… please.”
Bruce smiles. He gives Jason a small nod before he takes the letter and leaves the hospital rooftop.
When Jason hears the doors close shut behind him, he lets the panic settle in. He first feels its claws scratching at his throat on its way up to his mouth, prying it open, making him gasp for air. Jason jumps when the door slams open.
You see your soulmate standing on the rooftop.
“Jason?”
You run to him and wrap your arms around his shoulder, as far as you can reach. He bends down and you hold him tighter. “You’re okay!” you exclaim against his coat. “I passed Bruce on the way here and I thought--”
“Y/N.”
Jason’s voice is shaky. You pull away to take a look at him but he holds you tight against him. You feel it now, the way his lungs are expanding rapidly and his heart is beating hard against his chest. He’s gripping your clothes as he pulls your body closer to him, afraid to let go. Afraid you’ll let go.
“I want to stay…”
The Joker had killed him and it killed you. The League had planned on using you against Jason. Scarecrow poisoned you. But now they’re gone. Dead. The Joker. Scarecrow. Black Mask. Bane. Croc. Clayface. Penguin and Dent.
Jason killed them all.
“You told me to find a better life. Away from all of this, remember? And I wanted that.” Jason hides his face on your shoulder and you can feel his tears seeping through your shirt. “I wanted that for both of us. But how could I do that if we have so many enemies? How could I do that if they can come after us at any second?”
Battered and bruised.
Dick’s wrong. Jason doesn’t have evil inside of him. None of them do. Everyone is just broken. Cracked under the pressure of the city’s heavy fog and manipulated into playing a never ending game of survival.
You glare at the horizon of the drab cityscape. Yellow lights left on all night. Sirens blaring at every corner. Sewer stench wafting toward the roofs. If Gotham hasn’t broken you yet, it will tomorrow.
You hold on to Jason tightly.
“It’s okay, Jason. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“It’s not, Y/N. We can’t stay-- I can’t stay.”
“I know…”
You rub Jason’s back to soothe him.
“It’s not just the Joker,” you whisper. “Gotham did this to us. It’s taken something beautiful from us-- our link-- and used it to abuse us. It tore us apart and made us forget who we are.
“We can’t stay here. We need to leave Gotham not because we’re not welcome. But because we need to heal, Jason.”
Slowly, you pull away from Jason to take off his coat. He watches as you unzip his kevlar vest and lets you take it off of him.
You stare at the symbol in your hands and silently thank it. Then you drop it on the floor. Jason is too stunned to stop you when you reach for one of his guns inside his coat. You fire two shots into the vest.
This is something you feel you need to do. Jason got to kill the Joker, the phantom menace that has haunted your dreams and waking moments. You only get this. The barrel is still smoking when you return it to him.
You pick up the vest and walk to the ledge of the roof. You pull back to gather as much momentum as you can and throw the vest out and down into the busy streets. You watch the Red Hood fall to its death until you can’t see it anymore.
Jason holds your hand and you turn to face him. He watches the look on your face, determined and unmoving. As if you hold all the cards and you know exactly where to go. He’s never seen such an expression on you.
He squeezes your hand
“I’ll go anywhere with you, Y/N.”
Just before the sun rises over, you’re already on a bus heading West, far enough away that even Wayne tower’s shadow can’t reach you. You pat the bag on your lap that has some clothes and your new identities.
As the bus crosses the bridge, Jason is watching the subtle pink and orange light peeking over the ocean that meets Gotham harbor. It’s a rare sight and one you’ll both miss. He turns to you.
“Hey,” Jason calls. “Look at your arm.” He takes out a pen. You watch as Jason writes on his arm and finally finishes his last words to you.
“Can’t believe I’ve been havin’ somebody’s sloppy seconds this whole time!” your boyfriend yells out as you exit the club and enter the silent alley.
“Wow,” you answer indignantly. You poke him in the chest and glare at his upturned face. “I felt bad about cheating on you before, but now--” you throw your hands up and shout back, “not anymore, Derek!”
“Give me your wallets!” Both of you turn to the robber with a gun whose hands are shaking and his aim shifts between the two of you. “Hands up and give me your fuckin’ wallets!”
You run your hand down your face, “Are you kidding me?”
“Can’t a couple have a fight in peace in this fuckin’ city?”
“A couple?” you snap, “Oh no, buddy. We’re over.”
“What! Ya cheated on me and yer dumpin’ me?”
“I’m glad I cheated on you and your sexist ass. If I had known you would react this way, I would have done it SOONER!”
While you continue to fight with Derek, Nightwing slinks from the shadows and taps the robber from behind. He stares at Nightwing with wide eyes. When the hero nudges his head to the side, the robber makes a break for it. Before Nightwing could make his own exit, your now ex spots him.
“Oi! Nightwing! Got ‘nother one for ya here!”
“You fucking serious, Derek?”
Nightwing takes a sharp intake of breath, making a low hissing sound, “Not really the kind of criminal activity I fight against.”
“I cannot believe you right now--”
“So yer condoning cheating?”
Oh. Big words. Nightwing tries to laugh it off and shrugs his shoulders, “I wouldn’t join a parade for it--”
“But ya won’t stop it either?”
“Un-fucking-believable--” you grab a bottle from the ground and hit Derek over the head with it. You were too fast and a little too far for Nightwing to stop you. The two of you watch Derek fall over and lie still on the alley ground. You’re still holding the jagged bottleneck when you turn to Nightwing, “You gonna arrest me for this?”
Nightwing weighs his options. It’s been a slow night but not so slow for him to want to deal with you. He also didn’t want to hand you two over to the GCPD tonight. He’s still on their shit list from last week’s souvenir. “For what?” he answers.
You nod at him and throw the bottle away. Then you kneel down and start rummaging through Derek’s pockets. Nightwing watches curiously until you fish out a set of keys.
“Oh hey-- now you’re stealing.”
“Borrowing. I’m getting my stuff from his place. Forgot my spare key.”
You quickly stand up and start walking. Nightwing doesn’t have a lot of time to think. Ugh! “Wait wait!” Nightwing picks up your ex, throwing him over his shoulder and strides up to you near the end of the alley. He motions for you to lead the way. You roll your eyes at him but continue walking.
“Either you’re makin’ sure I ain’t stealing or your heart of gold can’t just leave that piece of shit where he belongs.”
“So I take it you two didn’t date long?”
You sigh. “Four years.”
“Wha- what?” he sputters with a laugh.
“Ever been in a relationship that long, Blue?” You sneak a look at him and he looks like he heard you but he’s keeping his mouth shut and his eyes straight ahead. “Booooo. Not like I can find out who you are just from you dating history-- Unless...“ You stop with a hand on your hip and an accusing finger pointed at his chiseled chest, “You one of my exes?”
Nightwing shakes his head and laughs. You smile and shrug your shoulders and continue walking. You pass a whole block before Nightwing couldn’t take the sudden silence anymore.
“So why’d you cheat?”
“Does it matter? It’s over. Good riddance to both of us.”
Nightwing didn’t expect you to answer on reflex. “Just thought you might want to clear your name.”
You snort and whistle, “Look at you! Heart of gold indeed!”
Nightwing quickly tenses. “Just trying to be nice.”
“You new here or something? Filling in for the real Blue? Cause no one in Gotham deserves being nice to. Maybe the kids. But not us.”
“Ouch. Makes me feel like I’m doing all of this for nothing,” he chuckles lightly.
“Oh, we appreciate what you do for us, Blue. You and the Bat and the rest of you costumed vigilantes. Saving us from the rest of the crazies and terrorists. But just…” your voice goes softer, “Not with this. Things we deal on our own. Have to.”
Nightwing doesn’t look at you and keeps the silence stretched. It’s not the first time he’s heard something similar from a Gothamite. It humbles him. Reminds him that his job only does so much for the people.
After another block, he speaks up, “Is his place nearby?” He shuffles Derek’s weight on his shoulder. “Not really the skinniest guy on the block.”
You wait until you passed the last building and point into an alley, on the side of an apartment building. “Just up through that window. Doubt you’d want to--” You hear the grappling hook hit the fire escape and see Nightwing propel himself and Derek up to the window. “... use the front door,” you mumble.
You shake your head and enter the building. When you make it to Derek’s apartment, Nightwing is already gone and Derek unceremoniously dropped on his couch. As far as these things go, this might be your easiest job yet.
You look around the apartment from where you’re standing. You didn’t actually cheat. Didn’t really date that long. The only thing you own in this apartment was the bra you left last week. But tonight, you’re leaving a little richer and Derek-less.
Disclaimer: This fic was inspired by Chapter 35 of Tamen De Gushi by Tan Jiu and Tim Drake’s vigilante life ruining his school life in Robin: Wanted. This was supposed to be last week’s fic but it’s wordy...
Words: 2,587
When Tim comes home from one of Wayne Industry’s covert labs, he finds his whole family in his room. They have rummaged through the suits in his closet which are now laid out for viewing on his king-sized mattress. Before he can ponder whether he should ask or just leave, Dick spots him.
“Tim!” Dick holds up two suits, “All-black dinner suit or grey summer suit?”
All eyes are on him now and Tim wonders if the family’s invited to the Gazette’s upcoming charity gala next month. But they never prepared for those things, asking for recommendations on suits or dressing each other. Unless it’s for a mission, they never prepare at all.
“Wouldn’t a white-polo black jacket dinner suit be more appropriate for a gala?” Tim has moved toward his desk to empty the contents of his bag, while his family turned to each other with raised brows.
Suddenly, Damian scoffs loudly and ceremoniously punches Jason in the arm.
“Ow!”
“I told you Drake didn’t know. Pay up.”
“Tim,” Bruce says softly, “aren’t you going to your prom?”
Tim’s hand slips from the table. He stays stunned in midair as he repeats Bruce’s question in his head. His last prom is the day after tomorrow but he’s never gone to a single one. So why are they concerned about it now?
Tim slowly turns around and is almost insulted by the pitying looks his family is giving him. Dick looks like he’s about to cry and Cass smiles at him with sad eyes. Alfred is pressing down the non-existent creases of his jacket. The ends of Jason’s lips are pulled down. Damian’s smirking. And even though Bruce is trying to hold in his reaction, Tim can see the slightest furrow of his usually-apathetic brows. They’re staring at him like he’s dying but he doesn’t know it yet.
“Why would you assume I’m going?” he asks warily.
His question only made his family’s expressions graver. Finally, Bruce gives him the deepest sigh Tim has ever heard.
“Father,” Damian steps forward with a grin on his face. “Allow me.” He takes out a small red automatic umbrella from behind him. “Grayson asked if he could borrow your umbrella this morning and you threw him this.” Damian tosses it to Tim.
Tim holds it in his hands and vaguely remembers what happened before he left the manor this morning. He’s seen the umbrella before but never used it. He sort of remembers it being a gift from a good friend last year, who also started ignoring him out of the blue.
“Open it.”
Tim doesn’t want to take orders from Damian but no one else in his family is speaking up and at this point, Alfred has sat down to brace himself while peering at Tim through folded hands.
“No. Open it as if it’s raining. At the ceiling. So we can see your reaction.”
Damian is being especially specific and Jason’s frown has slowly been replaced by an eager smirk. There seem to be some theatrics planned and Tim hasn’t figured out where this is going so he decides to play along.
He points the umbrella toward the ceiling and pushes the button. There, on the inside of the umbrella, written in black bold letters is the question: Will you go to prom with me?
Tim’s jaw drops. His wide eyes are punctuating each letter as he reads the message over and over again. No matter how many times he repeats it in his head it’s not changing.
A flash hits Tim in the face and he glares at Jason who’s laughing silently with his mouth open.
“Todd, you were moving too much. I should’ve taken it.”
“No, Dames-- haha-- I got it alright.”
“Sons. Please.”
Bruce’s voice drops as he closes his eyes while massaging his temples, unsure which boy he’s most disappointed in at the moment. At this point, Dick has made his way to Tim and clutches his shoulders, fingers pressing desperately, “At least say you remember who it’s from.”
✧ ✧ ✧
It’s the day before prom and just like last year, you don’t have a date. It’s no big deal, really. You had fun with your friends last time. But it’s just that, this time of the year is bringing back awful memories. Maybe you shouldn’t go to school?
You sigh. There’s still school the next day.
You get up, get ready, and drag your feet all the way to the front of your school. Your friends greet you near the steps and suddenly thoughts of last year have been forgotten. It’s not like you talk to him anymore. You’ve done a good job of avoiding him and he never made a move to apologize or patch things up with you so… really. It’s no big deal.
“Isn’t that--”
“Tim Drake?”
You didn’t want to look. You weren’t planning to. But you have been staring at him since you walked into the school because Timothy Drake is waiting by your locker. Holding the red umbrella.
He sees you and it’s too late to turn back. Your friends all know about the failed umbrella and they’re already marching up to him.
“The audacity.”
“You’ve got some nerve, rich prick.”
“Woah,” Tim quickly holds up his hands. Suddenly realizing he’s way over his head. He should’ve accepted Dick’s advice when he offered it last night instead of slamming his door shut on his family. He was embarrassed. But now, he would take Jason’s help with your friends, even if he’ll just end up being a soundboard for their insults.
“I can explain.”
Your friends scoff as you slowly walk behind them where you can only see glimpses of Tim’s face.
“Explain then.”
“I…” Tim stutters. Then he bows his head slightly and his free hand travels to the back of his neck as he sucks in through his teeth. He sneaks you a crooked smile while his eyebrows try to meet at the center. “I only opened it yesterday…”
Silence. Incredulous eyes and held breaths. Then a collective groan and one of your friends slaps their forehead.
Tim nervously chuckles to try lessen the tension, “Actually it was my brother--”
“Okay. Stop right there,” You’re blushing furiously and you are furious. You rush forward and cover Tim’s mouth with both of your hands. “Please stop.”
Tim peeks at you and your cheeks heat up at the sudden proximity. You quickly pull back your hand and nudge your head toward the end of the hall. Tim follows you, still clutching the red umbrella in his hand.
You stop and quickly snatch it from him. When you reach the corner, you wring the umbrella with your hands and refuse to look at him.
On his part, he doesn’t know what to say. He knows he should apologize but is that enough? It’s been a year. You’ve been mad at him this whole time and he was too clueless to even know why.
“Clueless is an understatement,” you say.
Tim gulps as he realizes he’s been speaking his mind. His tendency to mutter his thoughts has always been a nuisance to Jason and he always complains about it. But then again it’s Jason. He thought his brother was just making something up to annoy him about.
“Is oblivious more accurate?” he teases.
You turn to him then. Glaring.
“Not the time. Sorry!” Yeah. Second greatest detective my ass! Tim swallows. Where’s Steph when you need her?
You sigh. It sounds a lot like Bruce’s from last night. “Tim, we should get to class.”
“Okay. Okay,” he says in a rush. “I really am sorry. I was an idiot-- am an idiot.” You tap your foot on the tiled floor, not really wanting an apology. All you wanted was his answer. A rejection would’ve been better than this. “So I was wondering if I can make it up to you by taking you to prom this year?” he asks sheepishly.
The hair on the ends of your skin stand up. It’s not goosebumps or nerves. It’s pure rage. You stomp your foot at Tim, making him jump. “How dare yo-- NO.” You quickly turn and start to walk away but Tim grabs your hand.
“Y/N, wait--”
You snap at him, imitating his tone, “ ‘Make it up to you by taking you to prom’ God, Tim! I cannot believe you right now! You don’t ask a girl to prom like it’s some sort of favor!”
“How…” Tim hesitates, eyes narrows below furrowed brows, “How do I ask a girl to prom?”
You realize then that Tim isn’t just oblivious. He’s worse than a newborn calf. You slowly brush off his hand. The two of you stand awkwardly in the hallway.
You sigh for a long time with your hands running down your patience. “Look, Tim,” you start, “I’m not mad.” You stop, puzzled that it’s not a lie. You sigh again, softer this time. “Really. I’m actually a little relieved now that I finally know why you never answered me--”
“I--”
You hold up your hand, “So many reasons I came up with on my own. All bad ones. And I was imagining how I would give you such a hard time when you finally apologize.”
Tim tries to speak again but your gaze has softened and he suddenly doesn’t feel the need to explain. You understand. You’ve always understood him better than anyone. But he hurt your feelings, despite not knowing, and you deserve to be mad at him.
The bell rings and you wait until the halls have cleared before you continue, “But you know, after a year of not talking, I realized something.” Tim gulps when you look him in the eye. A light blush coats your cheeks. “I miss my friend.”
Tim stares at you before his lips slowly curl into a small smile.
You chuckle away the sudden nerves, “I miss my dumb oblivious friend who doesn’t know anything but academics and video games.”
His voice comes out low and breathless, “Yeah?”
You finally return his smile. “Yeah.”
✧ ✧ ✧
Steph’s laughter booms loudly over the gunshots on the rooftop. She’s wheezing and Tim is glaring into the distance, but not missing a beat when he sidesteps a thug and slams the barrel of his rifle against his nose.
“You’re an idiot.”
“Thank you, Dames. I didn’t just get that from Steph’s obnoxious snorting.”
“So that’s a yes, right? You’re going to prom?” Dick asks through the comms.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Steph stops abruptly. Cass looms on a gargoyle perched above Tim and Steph, checking for any more movement. When she finds that they’ve subdued every single one, she joins Steph in staring at Tim. There’s a sudden eerie silence throughout all comms, as if the boys have instinctively picked up on the tension. It’s Babs who breaks it. “Steph, do the honor--”
“How in the holy hell do you figure she said yes to being your prom date? Come on, Timmy. Enlighten us. Please.”
Tim gulps and suddenly he couldn’t even hear his brothers breathing through the comms. His voice is low when he answers. “She said she missed me--”
“Because you haven’t hung out for a year!” Steph cuts him off then crosses her arms with a huff. She rapidly taps her feet, daring Tim to answer.
“... She was avoiding me--”
“Because you didn’t even have the decency to use the umbrella she gave you! Ugh--!” Steph throws her hands up and kicks the ground. “Everyday this past year, I can’t believe my greatest promposal idea was soiled by your cluelessness.”
Tim’s eyes widens and he shouts indignantly at Steph, “It was your idea? Then why didn’t you just tell me!?”
“We had a bet going,” Babs interferes. “Nightwing party of three on your left. Robin en route to assist from overhead.”
“He’s coming in from the ceiling?!”
“Wait,” Tim cuts in, “Who else knew?” Cass raises her hand when Tim turns to her.
“Might I remind everyone,” Bruce cuts in through all comms, “that we are on a high stakes mission tonight?”
“Yes. Best postpone this discussion until tomorrow. Can someone please find out where Red Hood has been taken to?”
Cass immediately leaps off of her vantage point and leaves Tim and Steph on the rooftop.
Tim sighs under his breath, “... but prom is tomorrow.”
Steph comes up behind him and drapes her arm over his shoulders. “You’re so lucky you have me.”
✧ ✧ ✧
You make it through the school day just like any other. It’s even better now that you’re friends with Tim again. You took your shot and you crashed and burned. But at least now you can salvage your friendship.
Except that prom is tonight. Despite the awful memories, you still want your last prom to be unforgettable. More than half the school already ditched during lunch period. Now you only have a few hours left to get ready.
“Okay,” Steph whispers into her comms and Cass nods from beside her. “She’s leaving the classroom. Red, make it rain.”
From the roof, Jason quickly releases the folded firehouse in his grasp and aims it at the sky. The water splits as it comes down and blankets the small entrance of the school with fake rain. Jason grins as he watches high school kids scramble about in search for quick cover.
You’re watching from the top of the steps, looking down at the people running from the sudden rain. Strange, you think. It’s so bright out.
“Red 1, did you take Y/N’s umbrella?”
“Affirmative.”
Steph watches you rummage through your bag. “Okay. Red 1, go.”
Dick comes up from behind you, wearing an oversized coat to disguise himself, and opens his red umbrella halfway down the steps. You were going to ask if you could walk with him to the bus stop but the writing on his umbrella suddenly caught your eye. It has your name on it.
While you watch him walk away, Steph speaks into her comms again. “Red 2, go.”
Damian clicks his tongue at his codename. He only agreed to assist in this scheme because Steph let him write the next line.
A child too young to be in high school is also wearing an oversized coat and holding a red umbrella. He opens it at the foot of the steps and stays there. Waiting for you to read what’s written in angry bold letters on his umbrella: I’m sorry I’m a clueless idiot.
You blink at the words. Stunned. “What’s happening…” you mutter.
Steph turns to Cass, “Ready, Red 3.” Cass nods and the two of them come up from behind you. Cass opens her red umbrella first: It’s our last prom but my first one...
“Steph?” you call out.
Steph gives you a wink before she opens her own red umbrella: … and I want to spend it with you.
Steph and Cass count to two before they start walking away into the cover of the fake rain over your school.
You’re about to run after them when Tim suddenly shows up next to you. You’re staring at him with wide eyes that immediately turn to the red umbrella he’s holding in front of you. He unclasps it and opens it over your heads.
You look up. Inside it says: If you want to.
Tim takes in a breath before he speaks, “Do you want me?” His voice is low and shaky. “As your date I mean.”
Jason frowns at the sound of his alias escaping your lips but don’t see it. You turn around and swallow a sob before you walked away.
“Damn, Jason! How heartless!” Roy has been giving Jason a hard time for the past half hour in Roy’s apartment since Jason told him what happened between the two of you. “The girl goes out of her way to search for you, gets chased by bad guys, falls off a roof, and then you just tell her you never wanted to meet her?”
“What?” Jason snaps back, “Should I have lied? Tell her I’ve been dreaming about the day when we’d meet?”
Roy rolls his eyes to the side, a small smirk playing on his lips, “Weeell…” Jason stares at him as he waits. “Before you, you know,” Roy makes a gesture of cutting his throat with his thumb, making Jason glare at him, “you did brag a lot about the day you’d meet your soulmate you know. When you were still a Titan--”
Jason physically shuts Roy up by covering his mouth with both of his hands. He glares at him with wide eyes and raised brows but Roy can see the blush covering his cheeks, “That was years ago.”
Roy removes his friend’s hands from his face, “That was three years ago and that was you. At least one type of Jason.”
Jason turns away from him, “I’m different now.”
Roy doesn’t believe him one bit. Three years is a good time to change a person but not enough to completely forget who they were. “And you’re scared she won’t like you?” Roy stares at Jason who stubbornly makes a show of lying down on the floor and staring at the ceiling instead of him. “How are you going to know if you never try~” Roy lets his sing-song voice echo in the room but Jason doesn’t budge.
Then Roy stops abruptly and Jason watches him close his eyes. He waits for a while before Roy opens his eyes again.
“Your soulmate?” Jason asks.
“Yeah, she’s done with class. Sorry, bro, duty calls.” Roy kicks himself off his bed and packs his last-minute-superhero-bag-disguised-as-an-ordinary-gym-bag. “She took military science this semester and I’m helping her write a paper on reconnaissance.”
Jason frowns, “Don’t tell me. You’re letting her experience it first hand?”
Roy chuckles, “You’re skeptical. I see that but once you meet her. Oh, boy. You’re going to wish you have her for backup.”
Jason watches as one of his closest friends hum while he packs away more gadgets for his trip. “How do you do it, Roy? Having somebody else’s thoughts in your head?”
Roy pauses at the sudden seriousness of Jason’s voice, more serious than usual. “It’s not all bad. You know when you’re thinking to yourself, trying to find answers to life’s dilemmas?” he asks and waits for Jason to respond but he doesn’t so Roy scoffs. “And then suddenly someone actually answers you. It’s like God answering your prayers or something. It feels good talking to somebody.”
“Sounds just like having comms on a mission.”
“Exactly. And life’s a mission, Jay.” Roy teases as he opens his door and steps out. He leans in gives Jason a goodbye kiss in the air. “And you better get on with yours.”
Roy shuts the door to his own apartment and leaves Jason lying on his floor feeling miserable and antsy.
Later that same evening, it doesn’t take long for Jason to track you down. No, not all because much to his displeasure, you are still looking for answers regarding his death. Now that you know he’s the Red Hood, it has lead you to even deeper shit than you can imagine.
“Lookie here, boss. One just came straight to our lap.” One of Black Mask’s goons drops you on the floor like a garbage bag and you land on your wrists tied behind your back.
You bite against the cloth wrapped along your jaw and you glare hard at the crime lord standing tall and menacing in his diamond-clad black suit. He squats down and stares at you with his face only a few inches away. You can smell the tobacco and scotch in his breath mixed with the stench of the black paint of his mask.
“Gutsy,” he turns back to one of his goons, “Definitely has enough spunk to be a soulmate of one of those do-gooders.” Black Mask looks you over from head to toe making you tense under his gaze. “What does she have?”
One of his men steps up and harshly grabs your wrists to show his boss the faded timer on your hand.
He frowns, “Timer link, huh. Luthor would have paid big money for you if your timer hadn’t run out.” He turns his eyes away from your wrist and looks back at you in the eye, “Seems you’ve met your soulmate then.”
“She was walking around asking people about the Red Hood.”
Black Mask’s eyes widen and fill in the sockets of his mask. He stands up quickly and smacks the man who spoke. “You idiots!” he bellows at them. “Get her out of here!”
The man holding you quickly let you go and backs away. You quickly stare in shock as you and the rest of the men in the warehouse watch the Black Mask trudge along the ends of the table spouting rushed instructions to his men. “Do you all want to die tonight?”
Then one loud bang of metal hitting the cement floor steals everyone’s attention. You turn your head away from the Black Mask and find the Red Hood with his knees bent, head down, and an AK-47 in his hands.
“Yes,” he says as he straightens his posture and rests the assault rifle on his shoulder, “It does seem like you want to die tonight.”
The men are inching away from the Red Hood and Black Masks grits his teeth as he tries to keep still against the table. “Here for your girl, Red?” Black Masks snarls at him. “It doesn’t look like you’re here to save anyone with that gun you’re carrying.”
You stare at Jason. Black Mask has a point. The rifle isn’t the best gun for a rescue mission so he must be here more for an assault. Less for you. Or not at all.
The Red Hood laughs with his chest, making the Black Mask flinch. “Oh,” he says as he straightens up and leans forward, “I’m just the appetizer.”
You feel the vibration of the whole warehouse before you heard the crash of the ceiling on the other side of the warehouse. You cower until all of the debris has fallen and then you quickly take a look and find Superman floating down from the gaping hole. Much faster, you see a familiar broad-shouldered silhouette glide in and land right onto Black Mask’s face.
You’re too busy watching the Justice League round up Black Mask and his men that you instantly flinch at the feel of someone touching your wrist. It’s the Red Hood. He raises his hands, “Are you hurt?”
You stare for a moment before you look down, “I-- I think one of my wrists is broken.” You hear him click his tongue and hear a switchblade slice through the ropes around your arm. Gently, he helps you take them off. You rub your wrists and confirm that one of them is definitely broken.
“Does she need medical attention?” the sudden presence of Wonder Woman startles you.
“Not critical, but her wrist is broken.”
“I-I’m fine,” you utter in sudden embarrassment. It’s not a feeling you’re used to, being fussed over. Especially by a whole league of heroes.
Batman approaches the three of you and he immediately kneels in front of you. He holds out his hand and tentatively you offer up your broken wrist. He takes out a makeshift wood splinter and lays it under your palm.
“I can do it,” both you and Batman quickly turn to the Red Hood. He’s already squatting down and holding out his hand. Batman hands you over and gives him a roll of medical tape. You watch as the Red Hood slowly aligns the wood along your forearm. He takes one end of the tape and presses your fingers down on it with his palm.
“I saw the look you gave me back there,” his voice suddenly jolts you and he has to align the wood again before he can start wrapping. When he spoke again, he sounded like he was pouting, “You didn’t actually think I would put you in harm’s way, right? That rifle was just in case I had to break my way through some of his guys but mostly it was just for show.”
You stare up at his mask and wonder what face he’s making underneath. You look back down and watch in awe at how gentle he’s treating your arm. “I’m sorry,” you blurt out, making Jason stop.
After a moment he starts again, “What the hell do you have to be sorry for?”
You try to fake a laugh, “For putting myself in danger and then having to have you and the League get involved.”
“First of all, are you dense?” He uses his head to point towards the League escorting Black Mask and his men out of the warehouse and towards the incoming police lights. “This is exactly what heroes are supposed to do. I was looking for you and Batman told me Black Masks’ men had you. So he and the rest of the League got involved.”
You suddenly go quiet and sharply turn back to the Red Hood, making him flinch. You wanted to ask why he was looking for you but you’re thinking too much and all you got out was one word. “Why?”
The Red Hood sighs, bored as if he’s just de-briefing on a mission, “Someone’s been targeting superhero soulmates, kidnapping them, and then having their links stolen or broken. It’s what happened to Superman and his soulmate.”
Your fingers tense as he finishes up wrapping up your wrists. Would he want that? You wonder if Jason would have been happy if they had been successful. Your voice comes out as a whisper, “You said you never wanted to meet me. Do you wish they could have taken away our links before we met?”
You can tell he’s watching you under his mask.
“I doubt they could have. Not even death kept us apart.”
Quickly, he stands up and offers a hand, “Can you stand?”
You were completely phased by the sudden change of topic and his non-answer. You resorted to stubbornly staring at him and remaining rooted on the warehouse floor. The Red Hood groans under his mask and then squats back down, with his back facing you.
“I’ll take you home and then I’ll give you my answer, deal?”
Again that surprises you. He pretty much answered you, right? If he didn’t want to meet you he would have just said no right away like he did weeks ago. Slowly you climb onto his back. As soon as you secure your arms around his neck and his arms wrap around your thighs to hold you up, he says, “I’ve wanted to meet you for as long as I can remember, Y/N.”
The air moves and both Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian appear beside you.
You watch Lex’s eyes widen and turn from one alien to another. Once they’ve entered his mind, his eyes start closing. You lean down and whisper, “A courtesy, my soulmate.”
You stay close to Lex, laying his head on your lap while Miss Martian lies near you, her eyes glowing an effervescent light green and Martian Manhunter holds her hand. You panic when Lex’s brows crease and his eyelids flutter.
“It’ll be okay,” Martian Manhunater’s deep voice echoes in the near-empty dome of the lab. Everyone had been cuffed and escorted out. It’s just the four of you in the middle and Batman and Green Arrow on the side keeping watch.
“Miss Martian is the best telepath I know. She won’t hurt him.”
You purse your lips and your hand on Lex’s shoulder cups around his skin, pulling him a little closer. “How do I know his memories of the links are the only thing you’ll take?”
Martian Manhunter’s face doesn’t know how to show emotion. So he tips his head to the side. “You came to us for help because you trust us.”
“No,” you answer in reflex and blush in shame. You turn away from him to look at Lex. You want to say that you asked for their help because they’re the only ones that would help. You couldn’t even count on the Fate sisters so who else was left but the enemies of your soulmate?
When Miss Martian starts blinking and moving, Martian Manhunter gently helps her situp and the other heroes start walking toward the center. You check on Lex and find his features calm and his breathing even.
“He’ll be… asleep for a while…” Miss Martian’s voice is ragged. She grunts and takes a long breath before she speaks again. “Batman--” he’s already handing her a piece of paper and pen. She slowly scribbles down a list. After she’s done she hands it to you.
“We need to destroy all physical evidence that might trigger his memories. Can you please write down any locations that might not be there?”
“What do you mean they might not be there?” Batman asks.
Miss Martian frowns, “My powers are strong but some human minds have their own kind of strength. Especially for someone like Luthor. It was like… a filing cabinet?” she turns to Martian Manhunter, unsure, before she looks back at Batman. “Everything was well-organized and easy to find, and all in one place.”
Batman turns to you, “Like a trap.”
You glare at him and cower a little closer over Lex.
“If it is, she’s not involved,” Martian Manhunter interjects and then turns to you, “I’ve read your mind. Batman asked me to.”
Batman grunts, making Green Arrow smirk.
“This is Luthor we’re talking about, Batman. He’s probably had this as a contingency plan years ago when my unc-- I mean Martian Manhunter joined the League.”
Batman turns to you and you wait for another accusation. But he nods toward the list you forgot you’re holding. You look at it and carefully read each location. Safehouses. Lairs. Secret meeting spots. Deposit boxes. Storage containers. You’ve been to most of them but there are some missing. Locations only you would know. You write down the dorms and apartments Lex went to in college, his foster house in Metropolis, and just in case, you write down the location of the Luthor farmhouse.
“They’re not secret locations but these would be the last places Lex would go to and his enemies would expect the same.” But Lex is smarter than his enemies, you wanted to add. But you still needed their help. You still needed them to make sure Lex forgets everything.
✧ ✧ ✧
You’re standing in front of the big tree on Luthor’s farm and holding the piece of paper with a list. You’re scrunching the paper in your hand. Every location has been crossed off except this one.
Except for the ones you listed down, every single location had endless records and evidence of Lex’s research on the links. As well as copies and backups of each one.
But you’re disappointed because there’s not a single written record about you. Not a single file that acknowledged your existence. Your name wasn’t even written down on a loose piece of paper tucked haphazardly between pages or thrown in a trash bin or shredded.
Lex had erased every single trace of your existence in his life. He had been prepared to lose you completely. No. Get rid of you.
Flash taps you on the shoulder. “Looks like no one’s been here since the fire took down the farmhouse. Where to next?”
You keep your back to him but your voice breaks when you answer, “This is the last one.”
Flash quickly tenses and turns to Batman and Green Arrow for help. It’s Miss Martian who approaches you. “Y/N,” she holds your shoulders and tries to look you in the eye with a half-lidded gaze. “If you want, I could also--”
You quickly shake your head and bite your lips to keep the tears from falling.
No. You want to remember. Despite everything-- Despite the man he’s become, you still want him in your memories.
✧ ✧ ✧
You stayed in Gotham for a couple of weeks, against your will but you were ready to do anything to get Batman off your back. He wanted to keep an eye on you, to make sure this wasn’t all part of an elaborate move against the League.
While Superman continued to monitor Lex in Metropolis, you weren’t allowed anywhere near the city nor Lex. But you had no desire to be.
The Lex you saw on the news wasn’t the one you know anymore. He wasn’t the child you grew up with, the teenager you fell in love with, nor the man you devoted your life to. Because that is what you did. Your whole life has revolved around him and now he’s gone.
Finally, it’s time to start your own life. After Gotham, you move back to Star City to be with your family and be reacquainted with the life you could have had. You suddenly don’t need to keep running and hiding anymore.
Not even Batman could keep an eye in Star City 24/7. But a month later, Green Arrow stops by your house to check on you. It is his city after all.
“You can tell Batman I’m still being a good girl and to the League, thank you again for your help.”
Green Arrow laughs. “I’m not here because Batman told me to.”
You raise your eyebrow and try to suppress the smirk playing on your lips, “So you heroes just do monthly checkups on every citizen you’ve saved--”
“--and worked with,” he finishes with a gleaming smile. While Batman had intimidation going for him, Green Arrow uses his charms to lower his enemy’s guard. Lex didn’t particularly applaud the cunning in it. But he did make note of it.
So you keep your mouth closed but give him a small smile. Both of you wait a while.
When the silence suddenly gets too awkward, Green Arrow coughs, “Well I should get going then-- Oh!” he fishes out an envelope from inside his jacket and hands it to you.
It’s an invitation to Oliver Queen’s mayoral campaign tomorrow night at the Star City Plaza Hotel.
“He’s one of the good guys.”
You’re too baffled by the sudden situation that you keep staring at the invitation. “Well if he has the League backing him, he can’t lose,” you say mindlessly.
“Actually,” Green Arrow chuckles. “It’s just me… on the down-low.” Of course. If vigilantes started publicly endorsing politicians, they’d lose the people. You nod.
It takes you the whole day to decide whether or not you should go. There are still so many things you had to do to get your new life started. But that also meant that you aren’t particularly busy. Suddenly not having a life’s mission is enough to make you go to a mayoral campaign of all things.
It’s actually not so bad. Good guy or not, Oliver Queen knows how to throw parties for his people. His people being the upper class. You see a few big names show up, all smiling for the camera while they shake hands with the new potential mayor of Star City. All for show.
You find yourself spending most of the night at a table near the stairs, deflecting conversations of who you are, and who they are. Is this the life Lex wanted? To be among these kinds of people?
No, he wouldn’t. He cares less for these social gatherings than politics itself. You snicker silently as you think about how Lex would show up only if he had to be on stage and then leave the rest of the night to his secretary.
You’re picturing this in your head that you almost don’t get surprised to see him across the room shaking hands with a stiff Oliver Queen. But then you remember you’re no longer linked and he’s no longer your soulmate. So why is he suddenly here?
He catches you staring at him. You watch him turn back to Oliver Queen and mindlessly excuses himself but the mayoral candidate holds Lex’s hand in his grip and seems unwilling to let his company go.
You quickly take this opportunity to slip away and blend into a small crowd headed down the stairs toward the lobby. You wait until they reach the bottom steps before you break off toward a deserted hallway. You lean against the wall and try to catch your breath. If written words on a piece paper could potentially unravel everything Miss Martian erased, then you had to get out of here.
“Leaving so soon?”
It’s as if destiny still has strings on you.
You turn around. Slowly. You try to smile. You try to keep your feet planted on the floor and your hands behind you. “Not really my scene.”
Lex raises his eyebrow and places his hands in his pockets. “So you’re here for work then. Star City Sentinel?” he asks, “or Gotham Gazette?”
He thinks you’re a reporter but that’s not right. He’s not one to seek reporters. He runs away from them.
“Uhh, no,” you answer. “I’m-- filling in for a friend.”
“A friend, huh?” He raises his eyebrows in amusement. “Anyone, I know?”
You suddenly don’t like this. You don’t know what this Luthor is thinking. You narrow your eyes at him and push yourself off the wall, about to walk off. “Probably not. I don’t even know who you are.”
He laughs, “Really, Y/N?” It makes you stop. “Was that the best you’ve got? Everyone on this planet with access to TV and the internet knows who I am. I thought you might have been able to play this little game a while longer.”
You turn to him then, standing too close and within his reach. Your eyes are wide and he stares back at you with a calm exterior.
"Did you really think it would be so easy?"
You couldn’t move. Your words come out like a whisper with only disbelief pushing them out. "H-how?"
He hums. "You're not the only one who's employed a mindreader.”
His hand reaches out to hold yours. He turns it around in his hold, seeing and feeling your skin touching his. Then he squeezes it. He points his head to the exit and you follow him while he brushes his thumb on the back of your hand. At this point, you’ll follow him to the ends of the earth.
You almost hear Oliver Queen yelling after you as you get in the passenger seat of the town car. Almost.
Lex drives and there’s only silence inside. Your hands are on your lap and they’re shaking. Now that you’ve had time to think, you don’t know what to think. “Lex,” you mutter, “Please. Explain what’s happening.” You slowly turn to him but he keeps his eyes on the road. “If you remember, then why-- why aren’t you angry?”
Lex finally turns to you. He can’t help the smirk that lifts the corners of his lips and the mischief curling his eyebrows down. “Aren’t I?”
You don’t reply to him. Your eyes hold his gaze until the playfulness finally disappears from his features. He briefly closes his eyes and sighs.
“I knew our memories would be erased once we meet,” he starts and you hold your breath, “And when I succeed in taking control of the memory link, any lingering feelings would've been obliterated as well.”
Your lips quiver as you listen and your words come out a whisper, “Isn’t that what you wanted--”
“But I found,” he interrupts, “Over the years, I found that there was one memory I couldn’t forget."
Your eyes widen because it suddenly feels as if time had stopped.
"Which... which one?"
He suddenly smiles sheepishly and his voice goes lower, "The ceasefire."
You remember it so clearly. The rarest of days when Lex suddenly appeared in front of you, distraught, angry, annoyed, and just as surprised to see you as he was to find himself under a big tree, on a hill, in an orchard in Florence.
"Where am I?"
At first, you pondered about ignoring him but then you realized that would make him harder to tolerate and you don’t know how long he’s going to be staying.
"Italy," you answered nonchalantly.
He whipped his head around, as if not taking your word for it. Then he turned to you and raised one of his eyebrows, "What are you--"
"I needed a break,” you interrupted. You stretched your arms and then sat down on the blanket you had just laid before Lex arrived. “I found out a while ago that immersing myself in a familiar environment keeps me from wandering into your memories."
This happened during the third year of your decades-long game of cat and mouse. You were still testing out the possibilities and limitations of the links. But Lex, at the time, was still rejecting it completely.
You watched him close his eyes and you can tell he was willing himself to disappear. But to no success. "Ugh!"
You snickered. "You look like you could use a break, too. Tough day at the evil lair?" you teased but he doesn’t turn to you. He rubbed his palms down his face in aggravation. You rolled your eyes at him, "Since you're stuck here, we might as well be civil."
"You could walk away," he snapped at you with a fake smile.
"No way! I was here first!” You sounded like a child and Lex almost laughed. Instead, he managed to contain it to a small smirk but it was enough to embarrass you. “Whatever,” you grumbled and leaned back with your arms supporting you. “I'm not leaving this spot."
Lex scowled and rolled his eyes. He tried to look for the nearest town or guesthouse. But there were only acres of trees on the horizon. He grimaced because it reminded him of the farm. "What's so special about it?"
You were surprised to hear his questions. Was he actually trying to be civil? You tried your best not to sneak a look at him and kept your gaze up.
"It's nice to see the light trying to pass through the leaves. When the wind comes, the leaves and branches rustle so the specs of light look like they're dancing."
Lex was looking at you while you talked and he saw them dance on the contours of your face, making you smile. Again, it reminded him of the farm.
He finally sighed and unbuttoned his suit jacket. He draped it over your shoulders and then lied down on the blanket with his head resting on your lap. He felt you tense up.
"I need a break,” he declared with his eyes closed.
Slowly, your body relaxed and you sat up so your fingers could run through his hair.
"Is this an intermission?" you tease softly.
"Hmm,” he frowns. “Call it a ceasefire. Your vocabulary hasn't gotten any better. You must be wasting your time in college instead of studying."
You glared at him. But then you saw the small smirk that played on his lips and it reminds you of his room in Metropolis.
You leaned down to hover above his head. Your shadow forced him to open his eyes and look at you.
"I miss you, Lex."
A strong gust of wind swayed the leaves to reach for the sky, and the light was dancing wildly behind your head. Without thinking, Lex's hand reached up to pull you down for your lips to be reunited.
The two of you have been quiet for a long time. You’ve been wringing your wrist with your fingers trying to figure what to say next. But Lex knows it has to be him that speaks first.
“I believed destiny made a mistake linking you to me.”
It’s not what you expect and your heart hurts a little to hear it. But you’ve always known that.
“Then,” he pauses. His mouth closes and opens a few times before he could finally continue. “You proved me wrong.”
Your hands stop.
“While I cowered away and tried to ignore our link--”
You look at him to make sure he’s not lying to you.
Lex is staring straight at the road but there’s a hint of excitement in his eyes. “You adapted!” he said proudly, almost breathless. “You lived in my memories for days at a time and fit into the background as if you were actually there.”
He turns to you suddenly, eyes wide and mouth grinning, “For god’s sakes, Y/N, you found out Batman’s link and planted the information in my head, making me believe I was the one who discovered it.” He scoffs, “And then had me ask Scarecrow create a fear toxin that only worked in his dreams. Tell me-- Why?”
His excitement is contagious. You found yourself leaning a little closer and wanting to tell him everything. “I knew it would make his soulmate visit the black market for blockers. I needed her to get the League’s help.” He laughs. “How-- how did you know I planted the information?”
“I found out when we finally met. When the link cleared my head of memories of you.”
Your own excitement takes a sudden dip. What you did was wrong. You knew it was before you even started it. But Lex had been making more progress in his plans and you were still figuring out how to get the League to trust you.
It was pure coincidence that you found Batman’s link as if destiny has been pushing you down this road the whole time. It was your roommate’s sister. She visited and you overheard them talking about the links. She was talking about her neighbor in Central City who had the strangest sleeping schedule and often called out Bruce Wayne’s name in her sleep. “Imagine having a subconscious link with Bruce Wayne? I’d die every night catching him with a different supermodel in a wet dream.”
You knew who Bruce Wayne was. Having existed in Lex’s memories, you knew the identity of every single hero and villain, even in other galaxies. Truly, something was helping you pave the path to your success.
Lex reaches out to hold your hand, stealing you from your thoughts. His voice comes softer now but you could still hear the mirth in it, “You uncovered my plans and used it against me. Erasing my memories and planting fake ones about a happy childhood where my parents lived until I finished college-- Only you would've come up with something twisted and wrapped it in a bow.”
You suddenly have the urge to pull your hand back. Instead, you pinch him. He flinches but keeps smiling.
"I was impressed. The things you could do. The lengths you went through--"
"For you," you answer in a whisper. You squeeze his hand and you speak a little louder. "It was all for you."
His smile softens and there’s no longer excitement or mirth there. Just affection. "Yes. For me."
He lifts your hand to his lips and kisses it. "Forgive me, Y/N. Perhaps destiny has truly blessed me."
