Reappearing to drop Batfam content because I’m hyperfixating on them so hard rn
c/w: violence, fighting, canon inaccuracies [damian was sent to bruce much earlier], ooc batfam(?) [idk i’m relatively new to dc but i’ve been consuming batfam content religiously and this concept has been rotting my brain please be gentle]
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[unedited]
Fuck off already old man!
[Y/Name]’s furious internal monologue was telling of their current situation. Fighting ferociously against their father as Zemo made his escape. The Head of HYDRA turning to them in the doorway across the warehouse. His eyes glinting as he smirked sinisterly at them, stepping back and disappearing into the shadows. Slipping away while their siblings were occupied fiercely defending themselves from Zemo’s skilled and seemingly never-ending loyalists.
They grit their teeth as they watched, their jaw locked tight as their simmering annoyance bubbled, thinned and on the threshold of turning into a fiery rage. Their head snapped to the side when Batman’s punch successfully landed, piercing through their weakened defense due to the momentary distraction. The strike had broken their goggles sending them to the ground, they clattered as they skid to the side and off the catwalk. The punch had reignited their fierce defense but Batman didn’t falter— swinging a cross that they blocked and a jab they dodged, and he followed closely as they took several paces back.
Bruce was growing annoyed at their continuous evasion, blocking or dodging his strikes and breaking any holds he manages to grapple. Before, he’d managed to land a hit because the man they were here pursuing had momentarily stolen their focus, but now they were entirely honed in on him and this fight between them. The way they were evading him was telling enough of their skill, it’s not just anyone that can go toe-to-toe with the Dark Knight and not only last this long but match the experienced fighter blow for blow.
Whoever the Winter Soldier was beneath the mask they were trained well.
Almost familiar in fact. He felt an unusual tightness stirring in his chest as he swore he recognized the fighting style. Recognized his own style that he taught to every single one of his children, only it was slightly modified. Each of them had his style as a foundation but they integrated their own unique twist, modifying his style to their bodies, strengths and weaknesses. And Winter was using one that was hauntingly familiar to him. He couldn’t afford to let it distract him in the moment but the thought wormed it’s way into his head regardless, gnawed through his defenses and burrowed deep.
But.. it couldn’t be. It couldn’t. Could it?
As the fight between him and Winter got more and more aggressive and violent the thought grew louder, deafening as he blocked and dodged the strikes he could and took the ones that punctured through his normally unbreakable defenses. It’s when Winter throws another cross that he redirects forcefully bringing them closer to him that Bruce sees it.
A scar, revealed to him at the expense of the punch he landed earlier, the punch that flung the goggles from their face broken and splotched with the blood that had erupted from the cut on their temple from the swing. A scar that he remembers his middle child getting when they were young, starting at their hairline and scratching through their eyebrow. A scar they got from the table in the hall at Wayne Manor, years ago when they were a little ball of rambunctious energy and mischief. Alfred had scolded them for running through the halls before but they had a rather irritating habit of being playfully disobedient. And Alfred had fondly called them “little imp” as he pressed a bandage over the cut— courtesy of them crashing into the table full sprint in an attempt to evade their two older brothers.
The abrupt eruption of remembrance of that moment made him pause as he regarded the vigilante before him in a different light.
[Y/Name]?
The name echoing in his head and all the pain and grief attached to it faltered him, giving his opponent the opening they were waiting for and Bruce was disoriented when their metal knuckles harshly struck his cheek. He didn’t get the chance to recover as their boot connecting with his head sent him careening over the rail and toward the ground below.
Bruce flipped himself midair, recovering swiftly and landing on his feet raising his grappling gun in one fluid motion. Intent on returning to the fight, determined to not let the Winter Soldier slip through his fingers. But he paused when he saw the catwalk empty, they had vanished.
Irritated at their escape and angry at the new revelation he had just uncovered Bruce grit his teeth, holstering the gun and spinning around. Without hesitation he leapt into the giant brawl between his children and Zemo’s adept soldiers. Losing himself in his thoughts as he overpowered and incapacitated many of Zemo’s men, cutting down the overwhelming amount to manageable and securing the Bats’ victory.
As his children battled around him his mind spiraled— was it really them? They’re alive? Where have they been all this time? Why didn’t they come home? To the family.. to him?
As the last of the assailants were finally taken down Bruce grappled back up to the catwalk, silently and swiftly moving to the wall that he hoped his Batarang was still lodged into. He knew it had cut Winter’s shoulder and in consequence drawn blood, he had aimed for it to lodge into their flesh but they had dodged it. The weapon grazing their shoulder before lodging into the wall with sharp thunk. They may be long gone but if he had a sample of their blood he could obtain their identity— and destroy the stirrings of hope in his chest when it’s revealed it is not in fact his child behind the mask. The one they had all lost seven years ago.
As his children grappled up behind him up he made his way to the wall but cursed internally when he saw the Batarang was gone. Bruce looked down to the floor hoping the blood that had dripped from the sharpened end that wasn’t embedded in the wall would be found on the ground. But it appeared to have been cleaned up, there wasn’t a single trace.
“Who was that?”
Bruce turned at Dick’s question, he along with the others had joined him on the catwalk as soon as the last of Zemo’s men had dropped and been bound.
“Not sure,” the Dark Knight answered. He didn’t want to be honest about who he was considering the masked crusader really was because he didn’t want to stir any hope within the family. [Y/Name] had been presumed dead for the last seven years after all, killed by the Joker after Bane had relentlessly tortured them, brutalizing them beyond recognition.
Their death had rocked the Wayne’s world, [Y/Name] had been their light in the darkness. The bright and cheerful Sparrow and the even brighter and more loving sibling to their family. The Batfamily always knew that [Y/Name] was the glue that held them together. Of course Dick, as the eldest, was the pillar that provided strength and guidance to all his younger siblings. Becoming a safe space for all the younger kids that followed behind him carrying the weight of the Robin mantle. And while Bruce wasn’t well-versed in emotional vulnerability and understanding, he was strong— incredibly so, and he used his strength to be the rock, firm and unyielding. But [Y/Name]… they were what kept them all together, they’d plan movie nights and family outings, they were a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear to rant to. And their family loved them more than anything.
So the loss of their presence had broken the already fragile family, Jason disappeared after a vicious fight with Bruce. The Red Hood had broken in to Arkham to avenge his fallen sibling and had a ferocious confrontation with Batman, whom had been waiting there to stop him. On the brink of losing consciousness Jason retreated and vanished, he’d spent his time far away from Bruce. Knowing for sure now that the death of his younger sibling still wouldn’t be enough for Batman to kill the Joker. Another Bat— fallen to his crusade, killed for standing beside him. Buried in the dirt to be forgotten and disregarded, joining one of the many to fall victim to one of the Dark Knight’s enemies. Jason often bitterly mused that Bruce’s code killed more people than it saved. And the others were beginning to believe it.
Dick and Bruce didn’t falter in their roles within the family but the rest of the Bats could tell that [Y/Name]’s death was eating away at them both. They noticed in the even darker eye bags, the tensing in their shoulders and the way they carried themselves every single day following that night. They remained ever formidable though, and they held their family together as they mourned. But Bruce felt crushed, crushed beneath the weight of his child’s death and crushed underneath the weight of his rage, course and burning as it sat heavy in his veins.
The Joker had taken another one from him, and the line Bruce had drawn so long ago was beginning to blur. It often became invisible as his anger consumed him, a fierce twitch in his chest that screamed at him to finally pull the trigger. But, the other side always drowned it out. His code. He couldn’t falter now, and he wouldn’t.. no matter how much the thought picked at him.
Dick grew fiercer on the field, ruthless and violent as his temper took him over. He grew temperamental, prone to anger and spent more and more time as Nightwing. Drowning himself in the job to keep his thoughts from wandering… to prevent himself from thinking about them. [Y/Name]. His beloved younger sibling, the one he failed to protect, he couldn’t protect Jason from the Joker or Babs, and now… them. And he was feeling the weight of their death full-force, it took awhile for him to start feeling okay again. But the Bats knew he still mourned [Y/Name] everyday, they saw him sitting on their bed in their room. They’d seen him sitting at their grave, seen him sit there motionless as he stared at the engraving. They’d join him sometimes, with a blanket and snacks and they’d sit in comfortable silence.
Duke started taking up more patrol shifts, started spending more time with Luke and away from the Manor, just like Dick, drowning himself in his heroics to distract himself from the emptiness he felt. Stephanie and Cass patrol just as diligently, fiercely taking down criminals to feel some semblance of relief from the fire that raged inside them. Sparked to life when they saw the state of their beloved sibling, their best friend, all those years ago.
Tim patrolled when he was assigned and he was there when the family needed him but more often than not he was looking at a screen, sweeping files, memorizing security footage, tirelessly searching for anything that could tell him his sibling was still alive out there somewhere. He’d mourned with his family but he still had hope, and he clung to that hope like a lifeline. [Y/Name] is still alive. I know they are.
Damian grew ruthless as Robin, so much so that he killed a member of Joker’s collective, the man had ran his mouth about how Sparrow deserved to die and Damian saw red. Bruce was extremely disappointed but he understood his youngest, nonetheless he had Damian benched until further notice. Outraged the young heir launched a silent attack on his father. Refusing to speak to him, disobeying orders and avoiding him at all costs. He threw himself into his training, tirelessly working himself to the bone as anger consumed him. Festering in his heart and growing in secret and vengeful places.
Yes, losing [Y/Name] had flipped the Batfamily’s world on its axis but this newly revealed detail sparked something in Bruce. Hope. Hope that solidified his resolve. A goal— unmask the Winter Soldier by any means possible.
“Well they left these behind.” Nightwing produced the broken goggles from behind his back, holding them out to Bruce. The Dark Knight approached before grabbing them from his son’s outstretched hand, a renewed sense of victory sparking in his chest at the prospect of obtaining an identity as he gazed at the scarlet red blood soaking the goggles’ rim.
—
[Y/Name] grunted as they pushed themself through their front door, groaning at the aches and injuries littering their body, before they closed it with a slam and slumped against it. With an exhausted exhale they reach up to their face to pull their goggles off but their heart plummets to their toes when their gloved fingers make contact with their under-mask. Shit.
A drop of blood rolls down the side of their face and they grow even more panicked, if their blood was on their goggles and their goggles were left behind that means their family now can access their identity. They figure the Bats will take the goggles back to the Batcave and analyze their blood.. actually they know that’s exactly what’s going to occur. And they couldn’t be here in Gotham when their family figures it out.
Because Zemo was still alive, not only that but he’s escaped captivity. They must pursue him now, every minute he’s free [Y/Name] worries for their family. They did have faith in their family and trusted in their skills, power and abilities but Zemo was dangerous. He was unpredictable, clever and resourceful... and they know he’d gladly use the Waynes against them. They knew because after he had escaped The Raft he had intentionally led them to that warehouse in Gotham. Telling them without telling them that the Waynes and in consequence the Bats are now a target of HYDRA. And [Y/Name] wouldn’t allow that. They couldn’t.
Straightening their back with newfound resolve they stalked into their apartment and began packing their very few belongings. Essentials like clothes, plenty of cash, a passport and all their weaponry. Their injuries burned but it was pain they pushed aside as their mind wandered, to their family… their father.
When they had returned to the U.S from Wakanda a year ago, free of HYDRA’s brainwashing they didn’t have the courage to confront their loved ones… not after everything. Not after how much had changed. And then Zemo made his appearance, claiming he refused to lose the key to his plan; the Super Soldier Project. For an entire year following, leading up to tonight they’ve been protecting their family from the shadows. Keeping Zemo and his Nazi collective far, far away from those they cared about most.
And after every single confrontation with Zemo ending in their victory they’d always returned to forest surrounding the manor. Like a sentinel in the dark, watching diligently. There were many times when they’d been tempted to reveal themself, walk up to the front door and pull off their hood and mask. But they couldn’t, HYDRA is strong.. stronger than anything she’s faced in Gotham. It never dies, cut one head off two more grow to take it’s place. And the council of leaders have information they shouldn’t, weapons and technology they shouldn’t. And they couldn’t risk the targets their abrupt return would put on their family’s backs. So, they swallowed the pain they felt and devoted themself entirely to staying away and taking down HYDRA. Motivated by the promise they made to themself that as soon as Zemo was dead and HYDRA was no more they’d return to them. To their beloved family.
To Duke, Stephanie and Cass. To their brothers Tim, Damian, Dick and Jason. To Babs. And to Bruce.
But now, Zemo had made an open threat. He’d been relatively tempered in the years before, despite knowing that [Y/Name] was a Wayne and the Waynes were their weakness he never acted. At the time it had unsettled the young vigilante, solely because they couldn’t decipher what his plan was. But it became clear when the two confronted each other several months prior.
Just two weeks after they had returned from Wakanda, they’d asked him why he didn’t touch their family when they hadn’t been around to protect them. And Zemo answered that it was far too early to rope them into this, the young vigilante was put off by this. Because this was Zemo confirming himself in that moment as [Y/Name]’s Joker, he enjoyed the thrill of his creation chasing after him to dismantle his organization. He thrived on their interactions, on their fights. He’d made himself just as them, of course the serum he used on himself had still been in the beta phase but it gave him enough power to match [Y/Name]’s strength and ferocity.
And he admitted to them that he’s committed himself and them to a lifelong rivalry, he kills and they chase. An endless cycle. An exciting game to him.
[Y/Name]’s will strengthened as their resolve hardened, they’d chase him as he wished, they’d corral him out of Gotham and finish him once for all. Then they’d go after the rest of the pillars in the organization, destroy HYDRA and spit on the bones and ash.
And finally, after the last head is squashed they will return home. To their family. And they can only hope they’re welcomed back with open arms.
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𝖠/𝖭：I adore the Batfam y’all
