thinking about daryl who knows you’re in a rough spot, but really doesn’t wanna get involved. it’s none of his business who you’re with, but fuck, if he doesn’t wanna beat the shit outta this guy.
he sees the way you’re treated and god, he can’t help but think, ‘man, even i could be better.’ and that was saying something, because dixon was nobody’s certified lover boy.
trying to cover it up, people still noticed when you flinched around him, stiffened up, got quiet. especially daryl. you smiled wide, but there was no shine in your eyes. you insisted you were fine, but your hands shook.
daryl finally confronted you when you were left crying on a rock, head in your hands, with your partner nowhere to be found. he said very little, actually, just knelt in front of you, hand on your knee. he rocked you gently, letting you cry into his chest. he didn’t ask. he knew. the way you fell into him, shook and hiccuped and cried, he knew. he didn’t tell you to leave, didn’t tell you he was a dick. it was redundant. you knew, too.
*Possible cw for mildly (?) Descriptive violence/murder*
It's never easy to leave the past behind you. To look around the world, the people around you, and not envy what they have. The things they would never have to go through, but you did. You suffered while others smiled and lived happy, fulfilled lives.
It was an anger, a resentment that Dan tried hard to ignore. To push aside, and pretend like none of it matters. He was a monster, a killer. So far detached from the humanity he once had, it shouldn't bother him.
Yet every year when holidays rolled around, Dan's anger felt tangible. A cold, dark creature trying to claw its way out of his throat. To tear apart every smiling face and joyful family he saw.
It's not like Dan wants to be so angry. So bitter and resentful. Why the hell would he want to waste emotions and energy on a bunch of dead people?
He hated it just as much as everyone else hated his moodiness. Each time, he felt his temper flare for something mundane and stupid, Dan only got angrier.
Angry at himself for even caring.
At this point, Dan's been existing longer than most everyone he knows now. Granted, most of those years were spent in the solitude of his thermos prison.
But he wasn't a child anymore. The moment he took that stupid test from Lancer's desk was the moment Dan concreted his loss of adolescence.
He didn't get the right to act out. Didn't get the right to piss on everyone's happy family photos just because he ruined his.
Because that's what he did.
Dan ruined his family. He killed them. He was the one who stole that test. He's the one that turned to Vlad when he knew better.
It was his hands that ripped apart every GIW agent that crossed his path. His claws tore into the fragile flesh of his human companions. Left too many pieces and mush to piece together.
Dan was a monster; he accepted that. Who else would see the face of a smiling little girl getting ice cream with her father and wanting to tear to destroy every inch of joy?
A monster. That's who.
It's why Dan found himself in this situation. It was basically any other day because it was. June 14th, no major holidays or celebrations that Dan knew of.
But that's the thing, it was this random Saturday that had been the problem. No, it was this particular Sunday. A day for family and joy.
A day for a father and his children.
Something Dan didn't have. Even if he had a new makeshift family, it wasn't the same. They were pure luck, and Dan was certain that he was barely family to them.
It was the only reason Dan snapped. He didn't mean to. Dan liked Green Lantern, Hal had been one of the first people Dan actually opened up to.
He hadn't expected to. The man was harder to handle than a drunk raccoon at times, and the first time he opened his mouth, Dan had almost responded with more than words.
But they clicked, and Dan wasn't going to question it. Not when it was nice to have an illusion of a friend outside of the Wayne family he found himself in.
And he knew that was what Hal was trying to be. A friend. Dan guessed he must have noticed how moody Dan had been lately, how easily irritable. Hal had to just be trying to help.
Make this intel mission just a little bit easier on the ghostly hero. Find a way to make it easier for everyone. But you know what they say, hindsight is 20/20.
Dan just remembered feeling like Hal was trying to stick him with a babysitter. Like the man was trying to monitor Dan, it felt like saying Dan couldn't be trusted after all this time.
So yes, Dan snapped. He wasn't sure exactly what he said, but it had been a low blow. A sharp jab directed to Hal that everyone in the room instantly noticed.
And it escalated from there. Other heroes immediately picked up on the dangerous mood shift, the drastic shift. Stepping in to try and handle things.
Which might have been fine. Dan wants to say it would have been. That he could have just brushed everything off and moved on. Apologize to Hal later on when there wasn't an audience.
But then Bruce spoke.
That's what it was. It wasn't Batman. No, anyone who knew of his identity could tell the difference with so much as one word.
Bruce was the one to speak up, the voice that drew all of Dan's attention. A father's voice. The tone Dan had heard Bruce use with everyone else before, but not him.
Never Dan.
"... You're not my father!"
It was so cliché. Dan cringed when he thought back to it. Basic ass 90s sitcom type of response was jot what Dan would have expected.
Bruce scolded him, which was granted to need a response. And Dan wasn't even sure what he said before he told Bruce he wasn't his father.
Probably just whatever lowblow insult he could have used.
And of course, to add to Dan's apparent teenage girl crashout, he stormed off. Technically, it's not a storm off when you can just teleport anywhere, but basically, it's the same thing.
He didn't expect to be able to hide away for long. Downside of finding yourself as the stray pitbull for a family of detectives. There was no such thing as a long game of hide and seek.
"How about tomorrow we spend the day sparring?"
Bruce's voice broke through the still air a few minutes later than Dan had guessed it would. The man didn't flinch either when Dan settled a heavy glare on him.
Bruce didn't seem remotely worried or scared as he perched himself on the ledge beside Dan.
"I could kill you." Dan's words were dull, empty as he spoke them. His eyes return to the skyline. He wanted to be alone, but he also didn't. That thermos has been enough alone time.
"You won't."
Bruce's nonchalant belief had Dan cracking a small smile even if he didn't want to. Because he knew plenty of people that could say the very same thing from the grave right now.
"Tomorrow is just another day, and there's training to be done." Bruce's tone held an edge to it, a double meaning that Dan immediately noticed.
Of course, Bruce figured out Dan's issue. First Father's Day in Gotham, and this happens? Not exactly a brain teaser.
But Dan wasn't here for any chick flick moments. Emotions were mostly a distraction and not much of a talking point when you're mostly always angry. Or empty.
It was an olive branch. An unspoken understanding that had Dan's core hum in a way that both triggered his angry and calmed it.
The lapse of silence between them felt like it lasted ages. The only sound is the busy city life below and the scruff of Dan's shoe hitting the side of the building.
Dan didn't think he deserved a second chance. Hell, he didn't think he should have been let out that thermos in the first place. But he knows how lucky he is to have landed with the Waynes. To have Bruce watching his back.
"Only if you're ready to have your ass beat, old man."
