AlexiLoVe⁷

No one understands why Ace is acting strange. Barking at the air, moving around spaces of nothing. Eventually, someone has to question is he's suddenly telepathic when they see him yipping and waiting excitedly while the treat cupboard opens by itself and starts feeding him.

Then it hits the forty-eight hour mark of Bruce missing all his check ins, and they sound the alarm. Everyone has different lengths of rope, with Damian at one check in because he's the youngest, but Bruce's is at three, because he likes to disappear. But after two days, they can't hold back their anxiety anymore and pull the plug, and a search team is mobilised. Ace's strange behaviour is put on the back burner.

Bruce's tracker is at the manor, and they dismiss it as broken and start looking down new avenues. Steph and Selina get back from an exhaustive search and pause, looking at one of her cats floating in the air. Then it leaps back down to the floor, and they watch the flat's door open and close, without any external force.

"Is there anything special about this cat?" Steph asks, holding it up to examine.

"No. Other than the fact that it's the..." Selina trails off, and Steph watches her aggressively root through a drawer. She shoots back up, with a triumphant grin. "It's Bruce's favourite of my babies. And the case file I told him to drop off today is here," she announces, brandishing a file.

They take the news back to the group, and J'onn is dragged around the manor. He goes to Ace, and is confronted with a wall of daddaddaddaddadddaddaddaddad that he uses to branch out, and find Bruce's mind.

"A curse," Bruce says, and it's startling to hear him but not see him. "Only those that love me can see me." And none of you can see me goes unspoken, but suffocates the room.

They try to argue, but Ace gets up and leaps out the window, and J'onn holds up a hand. "He's gone. Bruce believes he shouldn't burden us with his presence now that the curse has revealed the truth."

"Well it isn't the truth!" Cass shouts, but the magic says differently.

Damian is crying in his room that night, on the phone to Talia as she tries to assure him of course he loves Bruce, magic can be flawed, when he suddenly gasps. "Baba?" Bruce topples off his balcony in surprise, and Damian races out of his room to find him climbing back up with a groan.

"You love me? The spell—"

"You're my dad."

"Why. Why would you think we hate you?

And they hear their own voices flash through Bruce's mind, insulting him, degrading him, everything that they said in the wake of Jason's death, the rejections, the times he fucked up massively and he can't imagine caring about him after that, physical fights, arguments, things to others he was never meant to overhear, and the entire room is in silence.

They're all either staring at each other or the floor, having just heard the terrible things hurled at their father by the others that they didn't know about, or are too ashamed to look at anyone.

Damian is his only blood-related child.

He notices quickly that Damian is just like him. Too much like him. Sometimes, it’s like staring in a mirror and seeing his younger self instead of his reflection.

It’s a different time now, and people are more accepting than they ever were; the chances of Damian being treated the way he was are zero, especially with him around to protect his son. He knows this, yet his hands shake as he tucks them into his pockets, watching as Damian babbles on about a self-interest of his.

He watches, he always watches, to see how his children interact with Damian. Always ready at a moment's notice to jump in and meditate, to explain away the strange habits Damian has formed.

He doesn’t have to.

His children also watch, then adjust, and then they accept him.

So… easily.

When Damian has an emotional outburst from being overstimulated by his siblings, instead of snapping at him or giving him the silent treatment, they allow him to de-stress, then apologize for pushing him over the edge. They don’t rant and rave about how he needs to get off his high horse like with him

When Damian shrinks away from physical touch, they respect his boundaries and don’t push him. They don’t snark about how he thinks he’s too good for their touch like with him

When he’s up in the late hours of the night from insomnia, they stay by his side and comfort him. They don’t tell him to go back to bed and leave him with a hollow feeling like with him

He knows it’s childish, stupid, and wholly immature, but his heart clenches and his stomach twists itself into a nasty knot.

It’s not fair.

Why can his children understand that Damian’s brain is wired differently, but when it comes to him-

Bruce always cuts his thoughts off there. He would never want to breed resentment in his heart for any of his children, especially Damian. He’s glad that Damian is getting all the love and accommodations that he needed but never got.

He’s ecstatic watching the young boy grow and thrive in areas where he still feels unsteady and unsure. He knows Damian will take the world by storm and be a billion times better than he ever was

Bruce knows that he is simply too much of a problem, a burden, to be correctly loved. He keeps hoping and hoping like a stupid child that someone will love him unconditionally

He finds himself drifting away, keeping to himself, and locking himself away in his bedroom or office. He can control all his hurt, pain, longing, and sorrow.

It hurts too much

But once again, all he gets are texts demanding he stop being so selfish and making everything about him. He doesn’t know why they’re mad at him this time; he honestly doubts that they know why they’re mad

It’s his place in their lives

Imagine this, the justice league meet at the manor, as friends, everything is sitting at the table and they start to hear yelling in he other room. Tim and Damian barge in, fully fighting.

Kick, screams, insults a broken vase, something is thrown around. And then Tim chases Damian out of the room.

Everyone looks at Bruce, expecting him to go intervene or something. Bruce is unfazed, still sipping on his coffee. "They're just playing." He murmurs.

Then Jason walks in, completely chill, takes some food, and sits in one of the couches. Then Cass walks in, with a bruise in her face.

"Bad night at patrol?" Jason asks.

And Cass stares at him.

Bruce is automatically up and between them, Cass walks away with a huff and Bruce starts scolding Jason for "instigating" her.

he pulls a fanon-tim drake, fucking around online to get groceries delivered and keeping busy with random skills and textbooks to distract himself from the bone-deep chill of loneliness or the flashbacks from thunder or the insomnia-inducing nightmares or the-

anyways.

he can almost convince himself he enjoys it, that he prefers this. he doesn’t have time for anyone, they’d just get in the way of his studies. sure, he doesn’t go to school, and he misses hearing people's voices outside of video lectures. but he’s always enjoyed learning, and he wants to be a doctor! the best there is, like his dad.

yeah. yeah! if he had anyone around, they’d just distract him from his mission. he prefers this.

and he’s doing fine, he thinks. at least, he’s doing the best he can.

it’s just- he’s in the future, right? and he’s still alone? there wasn’t anyone for him? still? he should be in his forties and the manor is still empty?

but there are signs of people having lived here. a family, even! he looks himself up and- oh!

he has kids! a family! he adopts five kids in the future! he has a family!!

but he’s been alone for months, now. the manor has been cold and empty the whole time he’s been there. where... are they? why haven't they come home?

oh. they probably left him too. alfred always does did say he’ll drive people away, being so miserable and gloomy all the time. they probably saw the broken thing inside him that seems so visible to everyone he meets, the thing that makes people laugh at him, the thing that makes him miss social cues. like he's not really a boy, but a novelty.

he wants to go back home. to the past. maybe it wasn’t so bad, with just alfred. he should’ve been more grateful. is this a test? if he’s better will he get to go back? he wants help, he wants a hug, he wants anyone.

he hates this. he hates cooking for himself and he hates tucking himself in bed and he hates dragging a step-stool around between the kitchen sink and the stove and the countertops because even on his tippy toes he can’t reach. he hates that every step echoes because the house is so empty and he hates that he had to wear a dozen layers because he’s cold and can’t figure out the thermostat and he hates that he cries every night while hugging himself because no one is there to do it for him. he hates that the happiest he feels is when he gets a Congratulations! email after finishing an online course.

he’s supposed to have a family now, and even his adult-self couldn't be good enough to keep them around, and he’s alone alone alone.

what was the point of this? what was the point of bringing him to see the future that awaits him? to see how worthless he is and will always be? how easy he is to leave? how awful it is to be around him??

he was stupid for hoping his future would be better.

what was the point surviving that night? of surviving every night after that? why even bother staying alive?? to be alone???

not for the first time, nor for the last, bruce goes to sleep praying he wont have to wake up.

pt2 will be something w the kids coming home! more angst dont worry <3

Dick, who is selfish and spoiled, always clinging to Bruce's back whenever he stops paying him attention for over 30 seconds.

Dick, who rolls his eyes and grumbles at his father's antics and paranoia.

Dick, who criticizes Bruce's behavior, but it's the first to jump on his defense if someone else dares to do it.

Dick, who never stops talking about how Batman would have done better and how he has done better.

Dick, who laughs out loud at that joke B threw around as he left a room, confused why nobody found it as funny.

i redrew it + with human skin tones! :)

Gordon: May I ask?

Batman: they are like dogs, this is their equivalent of peeing on me

Gordon: sometimes I rather you don’t answer my questions

You know who he is.

Image ref below👇