You're a new up-and-coming supervillain and you're looking for your first nemesis. You're thinking of starting small. Like that reporter from the Daily Planet that keeps messing up your villain name. What was his name? Yeah. Clark Kent.
A rookie reporter who grew up in the middle of nowhere Kansas. There's no way he would see a direct attack coming. Even moreso an indirect one.
You're hitting a small fry but that doesn't mean your methods are gonna be cute. You decide to go with the classic kidnap-your-loved-ones strategy. That one never fails.
You're standing in front of the sign that says Kent Farm and take out your phone to dial away. Of course, as a supervillain, getting such personal information on a lowly Daily Planet employee was nothing. The phone rings twice and a cheerful but polite voice greets you. It aggravates you even more.
"I know what kind of person you really are, Kent. And you will rue the day you messed with me." You pause for a dramatic moment and then menacingly whisper, "But only after your parents do."
You hang up. The hand gripping your phone shakes. You're grinning like an idiot because that was one of the best threats you've ever given. Much better than how you practiced it in front of your mirror.
Brimming with adrenaline, you stride to the farmhouse and knock boldly. It's still early in the morning so you expect them to take a while to answer the door. But then it opens and an couple greets you. Already in their work clothes.
"Can we help you?" asks the man you know as Jonathan Kent and his wife, Martha Kent, looks at you from just a step behind him.
You suddenly revert to yourself. Your civilian self. "O-oh! Hello! Umm... Good morning. I hope I'm not disturbing you.."
The old man chuckles a little but it's only half meant. "This is basically lunch time for folks like us." It's only 7:30am. You clearly remember calling at that time so Clark Kent wouldn't be able to punch in for work at exactly 8:00am like he always does.
"Oh yes. Well, umm... I.. I know your son... He's a..." The couple visibly tenses as they wait for you to continue. You notice this and you wonder if this isn't the first time their son has messed with a supervillain and used them as leverage. "..reporter for Daily Planet."
Confused looks. The couple looks to each other then at back you. Their brows are raised and it's more obvious now that they're questioning you. Deeply questiong the very existence of you at their doorstep.
You suddenly snap. What are you doing? You have a plan! You're supposed to be a supervillain! You knit your brows together and stomp one foot in as you push the door the back. Jonathan takes a step back and Martha holds onto his shoulders. You shout at the top of your lungs, "Your son has been getting my name wrong in his articles at the Daily Planet and I demand justice!"
Your pulse is beating profusely and your whole body is tense. You stare at the old couple but they're not cowering in fear like you expected them to be. Instead, Martha had her brows furrowed and her mouth was frowning. "Oh, dear," she says. She gently wraps her arm around yours, "I'll make us some coffee," and leads you to the kitchen.
You find yourself going blank as you're seated in a quiant little kitchen with worn-out yellow walls and furniture bordered with pale teal. Martha goes to the counter and suddenly you all hear a loud booming sound that came from outside. It's enough to make you jump out of your seat, ready to run or fight, but the old couple just stares out the window and then collectively shakes their heads.
"Can you please tell him we have a visitor? And that he should behave himself." Martha looks sternly at whoever it was outside while her husband had already left through the kitchen door.
You can hear faint yelling from outside and try to listen in. "Oh don't worry about them dear. It's just my son--"
"Your son?!" you jump out of your seat. "He's already here?"
She looks at you for a second before she shakes her head. "You told him you were coming but he didn't even think to tell us. My goodness that boy.." Martha continues to mutter about her son while she walks back to the kitchen counter.
The backdoor creaks open and in walks Jonathan with a huge disheveled man trailing after him. He's wearing a flannel shirt that's obviously two sizes too small for his torso and pants that don't even reach his ankles. His hair is a mess and he's struggling to put his glasses on upright. As soon as he walks in, he narrows his eyes at you, struggling to recognize where he's seen you before.
Your offended meter has definitely reached its peak and is now erupting. You stomp your foot and point at him while you appeal to his mother. "Do you see the disrespect? He doesn't even remember who I am?!"
Clark Kent's jaw drops as he looks to you then his mother, then back to you. "You told my ma?!"
"Clark Joseph Kent!" Martha snaps and slaps his arm with a tea towel. "Who told you you could yell at guests in this house?" Clark is absolutely flabbergasted. He gets another whip with the tea towel. "And why have you been bullying this young lady in the newspaper? What has she ever done to you?"
You suddenly think about it. You had your chin resting on your hand as you mull it over. "Actually, nothing. I haven't done anything to you," you say out loud.
Clark huffs as he straightens himself, trying to take back some control in this situation. "I'm sorry about how rude I'm being-- or been but who are you?"
All three pairs of eyes are on you now and you take your own pair of eyes and look at your hands all the way down to your feet. You're in your civilian clothing.
"AHHHH!" you burst out without thinking. Hands gripping the sides of your head. After all that research. All that planning and scheming. All that waiting for your scheduled flight. You forgot to come here wearing your supervillain costume. You're a civillian. You're doomed.
The Kent's worriedly look to each other as they watch your meltdown ensue. All too suddenly you start bowing, spitting out rushed apologies about a mistaken identiy, and taking slow but long strides toward the main door. But before you could make your escape, thick bulging biceps block your path and you look up to find a very pissed off Clark Kent. He's using his other hand to massage the bridge of his nose while his eyes are forcibly closed.
"Just hold on a second here..." he grits through his teeth. "You can't just barge in here and think you can run away just like that."
Another tea towel whip hits Clark's arm. "Would you stop tormenting the poor girl? Sometimes you forget you're bigger than a gorilla."
Jonathan finally decides to step in. "Now, now. How about we sit down and clear this all up over some coffee?"
"Umm," you finally pipe up. An escape has finally formed inside your head, "I forgot that I really should be going. I might not get a flight back to Metropolis today. So..." You bend your knees to try slip past Clark but he blocks you with his knee against the wall and his face is suddenly closer. You can now very clearly see the irritation etched on his face.
"Nonsense," Jonathan answers. "My son can take you back." Both of you quickly swivel your heads to Jonathan with wides eyes. "What? You're going back to Metropolis, aren't you?"
"Yeah, but I didn't exactly drive here..."
"Pfft. What? You flew?"
All eyes snap toward you and the longer they stare at you, the more you can feel your insides squirming. You force out a nervous laughter. "It's not like your son can fly, right?"
Jonathan's booming laughter breaks the tension like hammering through glass. "He can't even fly a kite. I'd drop dead if I ever saw this boy of mine fly."
Martha laughs along with him and you can see Clark doesn't like being the butt end of a joke. So you laugh too.
In the end, you did end up having that cup of coffee with your nemesis Clark Kent no less, but only because you had to wait for Jonathan so he can drive you both to the train station. Turns out Clark didn't bring his passport.
I miss writing fanfics about you and I promise I've already started! I'm posting them on my birthday (Aug 29) so that it's my gift to my followers and to you ❤
You've always liked the color blue. It's a calm and mesmerizing hue.
But something about the color red keeps pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
So you jump.
The night air of Gotham is so thick with fog, you can feel its weight against your naked palms. It feels like a cushion that will catch your fall, as you keep descending down past lights that are on.
Every window. Every curtain drawn. All eyes watch as your figure falls. They think they'll hear the bone-crunching sound. Guessing if it's your back or your skull that'll meet the ground first.
You grin as you imagine it all because all they'll hear is the quick wisp of a sound slicing through the air as your wings spread out and gravity pushes you to soar.
It's not a sight that's new or strange to Gotham. To them, you're just another bat in the sky, trying to make the night better for the little guys.
But again they're wrong. You're no bat and you're not doing this for anyone but yourself. You just want to know what it's like to be human and fly.
You just want to know why blue keeps soaring at night.
As you feel the wind slap against your beaming face, a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist. You're too stunned to struggle as further and further down, Red drags you back to the ground.
His steel-plated boots hit the pavement and he drops you on your ass. You have no choice but to glare up, exposing your face to him. You can feel his laser red eyes imprinting your features into his memory once again. You don't feel the need to hide it. It's not like you haven’t done this before.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
His voice is mechanical, distorted. You find it easier to be mad at someone who doesn't sound human. Someone who looks like they're trying not to be human.
Your eyes turn to the glaring red symbol on his chest. It's so bright but dirtied and your palms reach out to touch it.
Red grabs your arm and hisses, "Don't."
He pulls you forward, toward his chest, and then grabs hold of the cape clasped around your shoulders.
"Hey--"
He tears it off and holds you back from grabbing it back.
"That's. Mine."
Red narrows his eyes. "Is that what you want me to tell Nightwing?"
Suddenly, all fight has left. Even the mention of his name feels like an ocean wave crashing down on you. And all that's left is the calmness of a low tide.
Red knows this. He knows how much you look up to his older brother. How much Dick's opinions matter to you. What he doesn't understand is why you keep following him around instead of him.
Jason rubs the back of his neck and he sighs.
"You know--" He waits for you to look at him. "You don't need these. You don't need to be like him. Like us."
You turn away then. You've heard this lecture so many times. You wonder if Jason ever gets sick of it because you never listen.
Jason clicks his tongue.
"How often does he go home?"
You almost don't want to answer. In a small voice, you do. "Every other night."
Jason wants to grit his teeth. That's more frequent than his brother's visits at the manor. More constant than his check-in at the cave.
"Did he go home last night?"
"... no."
Jason keeps himself from sighing. "Alright. Then you better get home."
Another protest rises up your throat but Jason interrupts you.
"Go back to Bludhaven. I'll make sure he goes home early tonight."
You mull over Jason's word for a second before checking the time on your wrist. It's just past midnight.
"When are you going to tell him that you know?"
Jason's question was sudden but it's a topic that's been weighing on you for weeks.
"If he's still not telling me, he must have his reasons."
"But you do know. And frankly, I'm getting sick of babysitting you while you audition for the stupid batfamily."
You grin. All of red's intimidation has worn off. "You're part of that stupid family."
He clicks his tongue again. "Stupid Nightwing."
"Hey!" You punch Jason's shoulder and he lets you. He slackens his muscles so it won't hurt you. Much. "And I'm not trying to be a bat. I just want to know what it's like."
"What's what like?"
You mull the words before you say them. "What Nightwing feels when he soars like that."
Jason watches you look up at the sky. He can almost see the pigment of a figure in your eyes as if you're really seeing Nightwing in the air.
"Nightwing doesn't wear a cape."
You immediately glare at Jason. You can feel his smirk emanating through his thick helmet. "Fine! Just take my cape!"
"Was going to."
"Ugh! You're so-- so!"
"Infuriating?"
"Unlike your brother." Jason suddenly straightens and you know you've hit a nerve. A weak spot you've been exploiting for weeks. "You're nothing like Nightwing."
"Good." He throws the cape to the side, lumping it with the trash that's been taken out. "Now get your ass back to Bludhaven and. Don't. Come. Back."
You fold your arms across your chest as you watch the Red Hood use his grappling gun to leave you alone in the alleyway.
He knows you'll be back and again he’ll wonder why. Why your eyes gaze at the soaring blue sky while your feet follow the violent red trail of Gotham.
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?”
✧ Sometimes your job requires you to go on little excursions to drag back some family runaways. And when Alfred says little, it means Bruce intends for you to borrow the Batmobile.
✧ “Uhh… Thanks. But I’ll just use Tim’s Prius.”
✧ “Y/N, I insist.”
✧ “Mr. Wayne. I’d rather be bringing home your son and not another Arkham escapee.”
✧ Sometimes the others tag along with you when they’re awake, still alive, or generally just bored.
✧ “Oh my god, Tim. You have the worst songs.”
✧ “Apart from being dead weight in my car, Jason, what else are you good for?”
✧ “Tch. Y/N, Jason brought a gun again.”
✧ “Jason, I swear to god if you fire that gun you better shoot me first.”
✧ Whenever Dick runs away, he always goes to Amusement Mile, Gotham’s entertainment district, where Haley’s Circus used to be. When something really bad happens, Dick would actually leave town to follow the Circus’ tour. But for now, you pull over by the boardwalk.
✧ “Stay in the car.”
✧ “What if there’s trouble?”
✧ “I’ll light up a bat signal.”
✧ “Harhar, Y/N.”
✧ You quickly find Dick inside the large tent just sitting in the middle of the ring. He always greets you with a sheepish smile and pursed lips.
✧ “Time to go back already?”
✧ “I have two volatile children and Tim stuck in a Prius so…”
✧ Dick laughs and slowly gets up. “Okay.” When he reaches you, he stops and rests his head on your shoulder. You hear him sigh and quietly say, “I don’t know what I’m doing, Y/N. I’m no leader.”
✧ It’s one of those days. One when all the responsibility is on Dick’s shoulders and he feels like no one taught him how to be an adult. Not his parents. Not Bruce or Alfred. He still feels like a child. Most of the time you think he’s more a child than Damian. But the innocent kind. Not the murder you in your sleep kind. Or the annoying brat kind in general.
✧ “Y/N.”
✧ “Oh, sorry. I spaced out.”
✧ “Y/N!” he chuckles, “this is supposed to be the part where you say something that’ll motivate me to do the right thing.”
✧ “The right thing? I don’t even know the difference between laundry detergent and fabric conditioner. They both just clean clothes, right?”
✧ He laughs. “Right.”
✧ “But Dick… No one’s ever going to say the exact thing you need to hear because only you know what that is. You just have to be patient with yourself and continue to listen to your gut. The fact that you’re here means you feel like you did something wrong. So it’s time to go and fix it.”
✧ As far as your speeches go, persuading Dick to go home is the easiest. But when it comes to Tim, you need to be a bit more creative. Or diabolical.
✧ “Uh, Robin. Your babysitter’s here to see you.”
✧ “Don’t let--”
✧ “Thanks, Beast Boy. Next time you’re in Gotham I’ll give you a tour of the cave. Oh hey, Tim. Fancy seeing you here.”
✧ “You’re in San Francisco. You’re at the Titans Tower. You know I would be here.”
✧ “Really? But why would you be all the way here when they need you in Gotham? BB just told me--”
✧ “BB??”
✧ “-- that the other Titans are home for the summer. Like you should be. Suspicious.”
✧ “Why are you here, Y/N?”
✧ You smile and take out a small folder from your bag. “I need help with Chemistry--”
✧ “Chemistry? You’re a lit maj-- Wait a minute… These are the compounds for Scarecrow’s fear toxin.”
✧ “Nope. Look at the bonding element.”
✧ “... It’s... It’s a mutation of Joker’s laughing gas!”
✧ Of course, once you get back, you’ll tell Tim you just fudged elements together and you’re surprised and proud of yourself for making up a whole new deadly chemical. By then, Damian or Jason is ready to apologize to Tim just like you practiced.
✧ On the other side of the spectrum, the least bat you have to worry about is Cass. Whenever she goes missing it’s the only time you volunteer to bring a Wayne back. Only because you always find her sitting on your couch hugging a bowl of popcorn.
✧ “What series are we binging tonight, Y/N?”
✧ “Legends of Tomorrow? It’s about a group of misfit superheroes who fixes history. You might recognize a few costumes.”
✧ Cass recognizes all of them. Sometimes you forget that Cass isn’t a civilian and she’s even more of a vigilante than the boys. That this is what most her life has been and she has no inclination to quit it.
✧ “Can I live with you?”
✧ “You can’t, Cass. You’ll know all my bad habits and then you won’t want to be my friend.”
✧ “You’re more than a friend, Y/N. You’re family.”
✧ “Oh god. I mean no offense, Cass. I love you, but the only reason you’re always trying to kill each other is because you’re family. I don’t want to be in your Lord of the Flies.”
✧ Cass doesn’t really get it. “They know every bad thing about me… but they still want me.”
✧ “Oh.”
✧ Cass is the most observant person you know. She knows exactly how the family feels about her and they would move Earths for her. But having never experienced any kind of love growing up and then jumping into their unconditional love, it shocks you and leaves you anxious about the day when the dream is over.
✧ “You can live with me one day but you gotta pay rent. I’m not letting you mooch off of me.”
✧ Cass smiles at you. You turn back to the TV and she curls up beside you all night before you take her home in the morning.
✧ Jason’s another one that’s easy to find. He always holes up in his own apartment because no one in his family would dare bother him there when he’s in a mood. This is one of those moments when you’re glad you’re not family.
✧ “Open up, Zombie boy!”
✧ “When are you going to stop calling me that?”
✧ “When you go to a derma and finally get rid of those autopsy scars. Seriously, Jason, they’re unsettling.”
✧ Jason touches his chest and then stays quiet the whole time you settle yourself in his apartment. With Jason, there are no words or tricks to play. Whenever he’s seen too much of the family he just needs time and distance. You’re only there to shorten that time and make sure the distance stays within city limits.
✧ “Can you sing it again?”
✧ But Jason makes you pay the highest price. Ever since he heard you whistle and sing The Dancing and the Dreaming from How to Train Your Dragon 2, he always asks you to sing it when he’s not particularly feeling high on his horse. So how could you refuse?
✧ “Sure. But could we not do a duet this time? It makes me feel like we’re having a Viking wedding.”
✧ “Damian would love that.”
✧ It’s bad. If Jason doesn’t fight you for that duet and just wants to close his eyes and listen, then something really bad happened. So you sing while you watch Jason relax in his chair. You maintain a slow tempo throughout the whole song.
✧ When Jason finally opens his eyes, tears slip through. He’s staring at you with wide eyes and he touches his cheeks, wondering why they’re wet. Your lips quiver and you bite them before you approach Jason and wipe his cheeks.
✧ “Was my singing that bad?”
✧ Jason blows on your face and laughs even though he’s still crying.
✧ You didn’t really know what to do when Alfred told you Damian ran back home. Isn’t this his home? But when you’re strapped in the batplane with the Batman, especially since he’s also your boss, you can’t really opt out anymore.
✧ “Mr. W-- Er Batman? Is it really smart to bring civilian me to the base of one of your mortal enemies?”
✧ “The League knows all of our identities--”
✧ “Yeah, but I think I’d feel a lot safer in a bullet-proof costume like yours. No offense.”
✧ “They use swords here, Y/N.”
✧ “Oh… kevlar can’t stop that?”
✧ When you arrive, the fortress is even more intimidating and terrifying than you imagined. You stick close to Batman, clutching his cape, and warily eye the assassins clad in all black, stationed at almost every corner.
✧ “It sort of feels like the cave. Maybe if you trained more bats, you can finally get some sleep or go to your 10 AM meetings.”
✧ Batman can’t suppress his grin. “Do you really want more of them to take care of?”
✧ “I would quit. Or make you quadruple my salary.”
✧ When you finally see Damian after several days of his disappearance, you forget yourself and run to him, only to be met with the hilt of a sword an inch away from your neck.
✧ Damian’s eyes widen when he realizes it’s you and drops his sword. He looks horrified. Quickly forgetting your own shock, you bend down and pick him up to hold him tight in your arms. You can feel him sobbing against your shoulder.
✧ “Beloved. I see you’ve started involving your servants in your crusade.”
✧ “Don’t be jealous, Talia. She’s only family.”
✧ “Damian,” you whisper. “Ready to go home? I might need your help in stopping Bruce from adopting me.”
✧ Damian sniffs. “That mustn’t happen if we’re going to be married in the future.”
✧ You don’t leave Damian’s side until you get back to the manor. You stay later just to lie beside him in his bed until he falls asleep. You’re brushing his hair when a thought comes to you. “You know, in the future, maybe run away to Paris. I hear they have an old cave network there. It might take me days or weeks to bring you home.”
✧ Damian scoffs and smiles. He turns to his other side, away from you. “Y/N, I’m trying to sleep.”
✧ “Yeah, but think about it okay? What are you doing tomorrow?”
Notes: Here’s that version of the song YN sings to Jason. Fair warning, it’s a Drarry animation.
Notes: This is my favorite trope hybrid. Does a lot of emotional damage. I also wanted to move away from Y/N-centric narrative and try the soulmate’s POV.
Words: 3,615
When you live in a world full of superheroes, there are worst things than meta human villains, invading aliens, and psychotic clowns. One of them is having a soulmate.
Some say it’s better because your other half is easier to find, but they’re not the one who has a hero or a villain for a soulmate. You do
Damian Wayne was raised to believe in destiny. That it’s his fate to one day lead the League of Assassins and continue to change the world for the better. Talia would talk of his future feats while massaging the glowing numbers on his arm. As a young boy, he’s noticed how his mother would always avoid looking at his timer.
But destiny proved to have its own plans when Slade attacked the League and murdered his grandfather in front of him. His mother safely stole him away and brought him to his father. When she whispered her bittersweet goodbye, she kissed his timer for a long time. And it was the last time he ever saw her.
His father and Alfred dedicated a grave to Talia in the family cemetery, a few meters away from Bruce’s own parents. There was no body beneath the ground but Damian had no trouble shedding tears on the gravestone etched with her name.
Damian Wayne was then raised in a family where his choices decided his fate and those around him. Every split decision in a fight could lead to injury or death. Every word uttered turned arguments into thirst for blood. There's no way of knowing what will happen until it does.
Every action he makes, consequences follow. Nothing is given freely and nothing is asked of him. Suddenly, he no longer has a clear destiny.
But when he looks at the changing numbers on his arm, the inevitable countdown that comforts his loneliness, he’s still sure of one thing. No matter what happens, what turns he takes, or mistakes he makes, he has you.
It’s the last day of summer before Damian goes back to high school for his senior year. He’s spending it much like every other night with his brothers: in costume.
“Just a few more minutes,” Dick grins at him while he peers at Damian’s covered arm, making his youngest brother rub it under his sleeve and hide it from Dick with a scowl.
Jason snorts through the comms and Damian can hear him breathing loud and the wind trailing behind him, “Do you think-- it’s going to be-- a damsel-- in distress?”
“We’re out and about and Ivy is busy turning the Narrows into her new garden. Of course, she’s going to be a damsel. She’ll probably be trapped in Ivy’s vines and Damian’s going to be the one who’ll cut her down and save her.” Dick swoons towards Damian who harshly shoves him away and jumps off the rooftop to leave his eldest brother behind.
Tim’s voice filters in his ear as he glides over rooftops, “Or it could be a bad guy. Probably out looting and taking advantage of the chaos just like these guys.” They all hear Tim grunt as he kicks and punches.
Damian groans and glares at the night sky. They’re damage control while Batman handles Ivy by himself. From what they’ve been hearing through his comm, Ivy’s trying to find new territory after the mayor sold her greenhouse to an out-of-town developer.
“You’re always such a party pooper, Tim.”
“At least I’m not narrating R-rated romance novels.”
“Hey! Those are quality gol--”
Damian stops in an alley and turns off his comms. He hides in the shadows. Stands still in the darkness, holding his breath before releasing it through his shaky lips. He loosens the collar of his tunic and breathes out of his mouth slowly.
Finally, he rolls up his sleeve and the glowing red numbers light up his face.
9 minutes.
He remembers his mother kissing the last digit after she said goodbye. After expressing her distaste for his link all his life, why did she kiss it so gently? What did it mean? Why did she look so sad? Was she worried? Scared?
Damian Wayne has grown up waiting for the day when his timer would stop, when all the waiting would stop, when all the uncertainty and guesswork would finally come to an end.
“Robin!”
His comms are overridden and Batman’s voice blares through. “There’s another stray headed to your location.”
“On it.”
Damian’s running. Heading toward the screaming.
“Damian, how many more minutes?”
“Dick, focus!”
It’s too late. Damian’s already staring at his still exposed wrist.
7 minutes.
When he reaches the chaos, he sees a monster shaped like a bulb with its vines swinging wildly around, smashing into buildings and wrapped tightly around civilians.
Dick’s words suddenly haunt him and he wonders if his soulmate is one of them. His eyes roam each victim. Damian wills himself to focus. There’s still a lot of time.
He unsheathes his katana and cuts away at the animated vines. He catches each civilian as they fall and takes extra care when he lets them down onto the ground. An ambulance arrives when he lays down the last victim. The medics pour out and attend to them. He steals one last look at his wrist.
2 mins.
Damian turns his full attention to the monster. He cleans his katana on his sleeve and charges forward. He hacks and slashes at each vine it sends his way. But one vine hits him and sends him flying back. He braces himself for the impact and hits the windshield of a car.
He groans, back aching, and notices the moving numbers on his arm.
36 seconds.
The monster is advancing. Damian grits his teeth. His lips are quivering. He grips the hilt of his weapon and waits. With the monster just a few feet away, Damian yells in frustration and leaps. He comes down to its side and slashes the monster’s head off.
Its limbs flail in the air without an entity controlling it and one of the larger vines whips around and slams Damian against a building.
His head smashes against the brick wall and his body slides down to the ground. He feels warm blood drip down his face. It slowly covers his eyes and he sneaks one last look at his wrist.
3 seconds.
He feels a gloved hand wipe off the blood on his face and pull on his eyelids. When his eye opens, he hears the three continuous beeps while locking eyes with you.
“Are you okay? Do you know where you are?” Robin is staring at you through his mask while you flash light into his eye. His pupil constricts and then dilates when you move away the flashlight. “Talk to me, Robin. I need to know if you’ve got a concussion. Do you remember where you are?”
You watch him blink both eyes and slowly his mouth moves, “Gotham.” You give him a long look before you finally release the breath you’ve been holding.
Robin is your soulmate. After 27 years of waiting, you finally meet him. But work comes first.
Your hands move and part his hair to look at the wound. It’s a small gash but it’s going to need stitches. For now, you need to stop the bleeding.
Damian’s hand covers yours and he brings it down to his face. You watch him stare at the now faded mark on your wrist and slowly he brings it closer to his lips before pressing a kiss against the faded string of numbers.
✧ ✧ ✧
“Y/N, how many casualties?”
You’re still not used to having Batman addressing you by name. You clear your throat and stare at thepiece of paper you brought with you to avoid looking at any of them. “7 DOAs and 12 in critical condition but quarantined. Hospital records show that 42 are already in recovery.”
“Red Robin, how many missing persons reports?”
“23 but there’s no more ground to cover.”
“Where else can we look? The rest of the area is still ground zero, Bruce.”
Batman glares at Jason. He’s still not used to having his name mentioned in front of you. But it’s not like you want to be here. You want to help but you’d rather be out there in an ambulance, reporting to doctors. You’re only here because of Damian.
He nudges your shoulder with his and waits for you to turn to him. You hide half of your face behind your paper and give your soulmate a deep frown. Damian replies with a quick smile before turning his full attention back to Batman.
“--still some debris here. Red Robin, Batgirl, and I will look into it. The rest of you take the rest of the night off.”
Dick and Jason are already getting ready to argue with Bruce when Damian tugs on your hand and leads you to the elevator shaft. When he closes the door, you slump against the scaffolding and sigh. You’re exhausted. It’s another long night in Gotham as usual.
Damian’s tall form stands next to you, leaning against your shoulder, sending electricity up and down your spine. He’s bowing his head in thought. You eye him curiously and watch his brows meet at the center.
“You’re sneaking out, aren’t you?”
Only his eyes turn to you and he smirks. It doesn’t take much for you to decipher what he’s thinking. All you have to do is look and everything is written plainly on his face. Even when his family is around, the stoic demeanor he wears with them is very telling of what calculations he’s making and what he plans to do next.
You smirk back. “Where to?”
The shaft doors open automatically when it reaches the top. Damian places his wide palm on the small of your back and guides you out of the secret door. He stops by the wall and leans on it to cage you in with his arms. “If you’re tired, beloved, we’ll stay in.”
He leans down and kisses you. His lips are chapped from the cold night but his breath is warm like the sun. You find yourself inhaling and tasting all of him without another thought. He pushes you back against the wall with his body molding into your curves. Your breath hitches when his leg presses against your crotch. You push him back gently.
“Let’s… Let’s sneak out…”
Damian hasn’t turned 18 yet and you’re ten years older than him. You’ve found it so easy to just lose yourself in his touch, his warmth, his taste. But you have principles. Your rules. Boundaries you’re not willing to cross. He clenches his teeth like an animal baring his fangs.
Damian doesn’t understand these rules. You’re soulmates. You shouldn’t be bound by such trivial legal matters.
You slink away but hold his hand. You pull him away from the wall and toward the garage. “Come on. Lives to be saved, my boy wonder.”
But he tries to be good. Tries to be as good as you. Good enough for you. So he respects your rules, the high standards you’ve set for yourself. Just like how you never try to talk him into a more honest life, knowing that being Robin is what makes him him.
But destiny is nothing like karma. It plays by its own rules.
It’s the early morning of Damian’s birthday when Alfred hears the house phone ringing. Damian and his siblings walk in from the cave while Alfred answers it. The boys are loud but exhausted, stretching their limbs and rolling their shoulders to shake away the fight from the night.
“You excited for the big day, buddy?”
“Kids finally gonna lose his V card. What do you think?”
“Takes a special kind of stupid to lose it in an alley, Todd.”
Tim’s the only one who notices Alfred’s stiff posture and desperate grip on the phone’s receiver. “Alfred?” The others stop and watch Alfred slowly turn to them, gaping, the receiver slowly slips from his grip. “What’s wrong?”
He’s staring at Damian. His voice breaks when he utters your name.
They break every speed limit and run every red light on the way to Gotham General Hospital. The emergency room is in chaos and the lobby is filled with people all waiting to see the victims of the accident. The wailing and the sobbing is forcing Damian to hide his head between his knees so he can think.
The hospital didn’t call Wayne manor. One of your colleagues did. He was about to clock out but as soon as he saw you on the gurney, head bashed in with blood all over your face and in your hair, his knees went weak. He and a few of the other nurses knew you were involved with Damian Wayne and someone had to tell him.
Four hours ago, a building collapsed near the hospital parking lot where the ambulances are parked. You and your colleagues were headed home when it happened. They’re only letting immediate family members in and no one in Damian’s family is listed as your emergency contact.
“Is anybody in there with her?”
“We can’t divulge that kind of information, sir.”
“We’re her only family in Gotham!”
“Unless you’re listed in her contacts, we can’t let you in.”
“Check again! We should be in there--”
“Stop!”
Damian shouts in the waiting room, making all the chatter and buzzing cease. He stares at Bruce, Dick, and Jason before marching toward them and grabbing his brothers by the collar. “Just stop. Let them do their job.”
You’ve told Damian enough stories about the hospital and the different types of behavior the nurses had to deal with. You don’t blame them because it’s their loved ones in question but you just wish they’d understand that wasting the nurses’ time helps no one.
Damian lets go of his brothers and waits for them to take a seat. Bruce looks at his son. “I thought she would put one of us as her contact.”
Damian’s mouth stretches into a line, “I knew she didn’t. Y/N was sure I’d be the first to respond if something happens. She believed in me.”
“Thank you,” the nurse says to him. “I’ll call you as soon as Y/N’s ready for visitors.”
Damian nods at her and sits down with his brothers. He did the right thing but he feels sick to his stomach. He suddenly gags and Cass is quick enough to shove a trash can under his head. His retching echoes in the still quiet room.
By the time they’re called them in, the waiting room is half empty and Damian’s birthday is almost over. They stand in front of your hospital room door with Damian’s hand on the handle. He’s staring at the timer’s faded mark on his wrist.
His siblings turn to each other but neither rushes him in. Bruce gently places his hand on his son’s shoulder. After a sharp intake of breath, Damian finally turns the handle.
The artificial light is glaring hard at your heavily bandaged head. Your open mouth is covered by a nebulizer and IV packs hung beside your bed.
“Why…” Dick’s voice is breaking and almost a whisper. “Why does she need so many?”
Bruce purses his lips when he answers, “The building collapsed from neglect over the years but the Joker was using one of the empty apartments for storage.”
“What was in it?” Tim asks, making Jason elbow him and shush the rest of them.
“Do you really think this is the time?” he nudges his head toward Damian who’s standing right next to your bed and holding your free hand.
Damian has tuned them out the moment he saw you. He lowers himself and lays his chin near your shoulder. He watches your chest rise and fall and hopes your eyelids would open.
“Y/N. Please.”
It’s almost sunrise when you finally wake up. The room is quiet but the repeated beeping of machines helps stir you into consciousness. You blink and wait for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. You’re in a hospital room crowded with hunched sleeping forms littered about.
You feel someone’s fingers intertwined with yours and your eyes land on a small mop of black hair lying on your bed. Instinctively, you reach out and ruffle it out, the tips of his hair feel familiar on your fingers. The boy wakes slowly and then his eyes widen as he stares at you.
“Y/N.”
He stands up quickly and hovers over you, unsure of how close he could get but you can see that he wants to embrace you. Slowly, the others start waking. The two eldest men quickly run out and you can hear them calling for a doctor.
You unclasp the tube from your mouth with one hand and release it from your mouth with a pop. You cough a few times and the boy gently helps you sit up and rubs your back until your breathing eases. You turn to him, curious.
“I feel like… I should know you.”
The others are halfway up at this point. Your words made them stop. They all watch Damian’s eyes stare deeply into yours with his eyebrows almost meeting in the middle.
“What do you mean?”
You stare at him, studying his face and trying to place where you’ve seen him. “You’re… Damian Wayne, aren’t you?”
You feel Damian’s fingers let go of your hand and his body takes an involuntary step back.
The doctor comes in and realizes what he’s walked into. He asks to speak to you alone. Everyone slowly filters out and crowds the hallway in front of your room.
Tim’s the first one who approaches Damian, reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s just retrograde amnesia. There’s a good chance Y/N will get her memories back.”
Damian looks at his brother before he nods to him.
“What if she doesn’t?”
“Jason.”
“No, seriously. What if.”
Damian glares at Jason who’s not letting up. The others aren’t intervening because it’s one of those rare moments where Jason could be right. “You gotta be ready for the worst here, kid. What are you going to do?”
Damian turns away from him and peers into your room. Even in your condition, you look as bright as you always have to him. Suddenly, you catch Damian looking at you. He quickly tenses and stands up.
“Are you running away?” Jason blocks his path, acting like a real brother even though he isn’t. “Aren’t you her soulmate, huh, Damian Wayne?”
“That name doesn’t mean anything to her right now!”
The doctor steps out into the hallway, forcing the boys to shut their mouths and glare at each other. He coughs and turns to Damian. “Excuse me. Y/N’s asking for you.”
Damian stares at him but doesn’t move. Jason slowly pushes both of his shoulders toward the door. You see him and make a small wave.
“We’ll wait out here,” Jason whispers to him before gently pushing him into the room and closing the door behind Damian.
You wait as he slowly walks up to you. “So, Fred tells me you’re my soulmate.”
Damian stops just a foot away from your bed. It takes a moment but his demeanor changes. He presses the soles of his feet firmly on the ground and it lets him look you in the eyes with more ease. “I am.”
He says it with such intensity that makes you turn away when you feel a warm blush coating your cheeks. You try to cover them with your hands and breathe out a shaky laugh. “Wow. I mean-- just wow. How long have we been…”
“9 months.”
You feel your cheeks heat up even more. You press your palms on your face, trying to hide yourself. “Phew… 9 months. And I actually-- But you’re not even 18 yet. Gosh.”
Damian’s hands touch yours, making you flinch. He slowly pulls your hands away. You open your eyes and find his face so close to you. “I’m 18 now. It was my birthday yesterday,” he whispers, his warm breath blowing on your face, a familiar feeling that makes your fingers itch to reach out and touch the back of his neck.
“Oh… Happy birthday, Damian.”
Damian’s gaze drops to your lips but they look back up just as quickly. When he looks into your eyes, dilated and roaming his face, he remembers the first time you met. He can almost hear those three beeps.
“Hey…” You watch big tears drop from his eyes. When you wipe them he seems shocked they’re there. “Come here.” You pull him close, making him climb onto your bed and curl up beside you. He rests his head on your shoulder and you hold him tighter when he shakes. “It’s okay,” you rub his head and your fingers untangle his unkept hair. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Why…” he chokes out. “Why aren’t you questioning any of this? Why do you believe it so easily? Your timer’s run out. There’s no way to know if I’m really your soulmate.”
You sneak a look at his arm and touch his faded marks. “I think… my soulmate wouldn’t be the type of person who would take advantage of an amnesiac.”
Damian lifts his head and looks at you. “You’re too…”
“Gullible?” you laugh.
“Good.”
You go still. “Does that mean I changed?”
He looks at you. Your head is completely wrapped with bandages but your eyes still gleam when you watch him, pupils roaming to look for little tells hiding beneath his face. That small hidden smirk on your lips that slowly emerges when you finally piece something together, a mystery he didn’t know you were unravelling.
Damian looks at you and all he sees is his beloved.
“No,” he answers. “You’re still you.”
You smile at him, “See? If I fell for you once then I’ll do it again. Especially now that you’re legal.”
Damian snorts when he laughs. Unable to control it he hides his face on your shoulder, making you laugh along with him.
