s t e l l a

It was by chance you overheard him. It was two in the morning and you were lurking in the kitchen, drinking water in the dark. You heard voices and footsteps approaching.

“What do you want Jay?” your oldest brother asked, his voice tired.

“I don’t know Dick,” the second oldest responds. “Maybe the Joker dead.”

An annoyed groan. “What fucking snack do you-” The door slams open and hallway light spills into the kitchen.

You feel like the rats in Ratitouille when the grandma blows open the wall and sees all the rats there and they’re all just staring at each other.

“What are you doing up?” Dick asks, his tone soft with you. His shoulders are slumped and the white t-shirt hangs loosely off his frame. His bare feet poke out from the hem of his blue plaid sleep pants. His black curls are still wet and combed away from his forehead.

You hold up your water bottle in lieu of responding.

Jason bumps shoulders with Dick as he strolls into the kitchen. He ruffles your hair on his way to the pantry. “You drink water like a freaking fish.”

“You don’t drink enough,” you mumble around the rim of the bottle. Jason is too busy rooting through bags of chips and cookie packages to counter your comment.

Dick steps into your space. He smooths the hair back out of your face and presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “Go back to bed, it’s late.”

“It’s late for you too.”

“We’re going to sleep soon,” Dick promises. He gives you a soft smile, one that makes his left dimple poke out and his eyes crinkle at the corners.

You return to your room without much fight, leaving your brothers in a dark kitchen, oblivious to the thoughts brewing inside of your head.

You never really thought about killing someone before. Sure, you’ve made jokes in passing about wanting to strangle your siblings or wanting to blow up a random, inconsiderate stranger on the street. But never in depth, planning it out like a psychopath. Maybe you are a psycho, for putting so much thought and time into this new plan of yours. But for your brother, for Jason it would be worth it. Anything to keep him around the manor more often.

You know something happened. He doesn’t like your father anymore, can barely stand to be in the same room as Bruce for more than twenty minutes before someone explodes. It has to do with Jason’s ‘death’ that really didn’t happen. Or that’s what your dad told you.

You had mourned Jason. You were hysterical during the funeral. That was your brother, and suddenly he was gone. He would no longer read to you at night anymore. The boy who would sneak into the kitchen and grab cookies before dinner was done. He would chase away the kids who teased you at school and teach you how to defend yourself in case he wasn’t there. You had burned your funeral clothes and didn’t talk to anyone for a week.

And then years later, he returned.

He wasn’t the same, but he was back.

No one would tell you what happened. Bruce would shut down and vanish into his office whenever you tried to talk about it. Alfred would purse his lips and continue on his tasks as if he never heard you. Dick got quiet and still for a moment, and then he would spring back with a burst of fake energy and redirect you. Tim would pretend like he misunderstood your question and gaslight like you never asked him a question in the first place. And you would never ask Damian.

With the few scant pieces, you can sort of piece together something that may have happened. A terrorist, a bomb, a fake body. You would never ask Jason to relive what has to be the most traumatic part of his life. You just know you never want your brother to hurt like that again.

You miss how your family used to be. Sure, Dick was pretty standoffish and reluctant when both you and Jason were introduced to the family, but he eventually overcame that. Bruce used to smile a lot more back then. But you wouldn’t change having everything back like it used to be if it meant not having Tim and Damian as siblings anymore. But if you could do one small thing that would make Jason come around a lot more, to make your family whole again, you would do it in a heartbeat.

The funny thing about being Bruce Wayne’s child raised in the public eye, people forget about how smart Bruce Wayne actually is. They don’t connect the airheaded billionaire who parties every other weekend to the genius billionaire who uses his resources to change the city while increasing his profits. And they don’t realize how smart you turned out, even though your academic record is public knowledge at this point.

It would be ridiculous to assume that after living in the manor for most of your life, you never discovered your dad’s secret. He can try to hide the bruises, the tiredness, the sudden disappearances whenever another criminal escapes Arkham. But he raised you since you were a baby. He can’t trick you with the same methods he taught you. Your dad can create and hide all the secrets he wants. You won’t force him to spill anything unless he wants to. So you have no guilt in creating your own secrets.

You would do anything to keep your family together.

--

On an unassuming Wednesday night, a murder takes place within Arkham’s walls. It would not be discovered until morning.

The official reports and the media will claim it was heart failure.

By mid day, the streets of Gotham are in chaos. People are celebrating the death of the clown that terrorized them for years. It’s a gruesome display of happiness. People shoot off fireworks, beat clown shaped pinatas, and start drinking with their neighbors. Shockingly, there’s not much crime that night. The very few who liked the clown are forced into hiding, too scared by the overzealous displays of celebration. Gotham’s vigilantes have a confusing night of stopping illegal fireworks and public intoxication and not much physical crime.

The next morning, Jason Todd will discover a package on the doorstep of one of his safe houses. When he opens it with trepidation, he finds a glass container with two objects floating in liquid. The eyes seem to be laughing at him.

The coroner won’t discover it was air embolism until a week later. He already discovered the two glass spheres in place where the body’s eyes should be.

The coroner realizes it was a murder, but does not report it. Instead, he deletes the files that would say anything different. He suggests that the asylum burns the body.

No one suspects a thing.

--

Jason doesn’t like it when you drink underage, but he won’t snitch if you suddenly want a drink. And he’s not bad company. Sitting on the rooftop balcony of the manor, he doesn’t question why you texted and asked him for alcohol late at night. Instead, he joins you and goes through can after can of cheap beer. He doesn’t actually enjoy the taste, he confesses to you, but it’s an easier hangover than the hard liquor he got you. A true loving brother, getting drunk alongside you.

Jason lets you lead the conversation. You’re lamenting about how hard it is to buy a birthday gift for Tim’s upcoming birthday. Your brother says he doesn’t want anything, already has a million things, and anything he could want he could buy with his own thousands of dollars.

Jason taps his can against the banister rails before taking a drink. “Don’t get him anything weird. Kid is one strange item away from becoming a mad scientist.”

The alcohol has warmed your body so much you can feel the flush on your cheeks. It’s made your brain turn to mush, almost like it’s alphabet soup but instead of broth there’s applesauce. “Like eyes?”

Jason lowers his can from his mouth. His hand is minutely shaking. His eyes widen at you, green swimming around blue.

You don’t think you were supposed to bring that up.

“…How…” Jason’s voice is faint. “Did you…”

You smile at him, one that makes the corner of your lips curl up like a cat. “What?”

“No! You’re not playing that game with me!” The can in his hand is dented under his brute strength. “How did you know that?”

You tilt your head. “Hm?”

Jason throws the drink to the floor and grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you as if that could release an explanation. “The eyes! How did you know about the eyes?!”

Despite his bulk of muscles, his grip isn’t that tight, you could break free if you wanted. It’s almost like a comforting grasp. Jason isn’t much for physical touch, even less so now that he’s back. You don’t remember hugging him much when you were younger, perhaps you should start now.

You sigh. “I’ve missed having you around.”

The fingers digging into your shoulder fall apart.

You look up at your brother. He looks older than he should be, perhaps its the muscular build or maybe it's the tense aura he carries around him. “I did what I had to, to keep you around.”

Jason swallows, his throat bopping uncomfortably. “You killed him?”

“He died of natural causes.”

“Right…”

There’s not much of your drink left. You debate if you should open another bottle. “I’d do it again too. If I could, I’d make him squirm. I’d give you more than his eyes. I’d do it to anybody that hurt you Jay.”

Jason curls into you, pressing his face against your neck like he’s a child trying to hide from the world. He’s not crying or speaking, but you can feel the minute trembles and random full body shudders that wreck through him. He wraps his arms around your middle, his hands interconnected by your hip bone. One of your own hands is running your fingers through his hair.

It’s a long, quiet night.

The family notices Jason’s sudden closeness to you. It’d be hard not to.

He barely leaves your side for the most part. He’s around the manor more often, usually hovering a few paces behind you. He hangs out in your room a lot, giving unhelpful advice with homework and laying in your bed to watch videos together. Sometimes he drags you to the library and reads aloud to you. Other times you sit on the kitchen counter and watch him cook and help him start baking as a hobby.

Bruce doesn’t question it. He smiles brightly instead every time he sees Jason over your shoulder. He loves seeing Jason in the manor, he loves seeing his kids get along even more. Tim tried to joke about it once when you were helping Jason with a recipe. Your older brother got eerily quiet and just looked at Tim with eyes more green than blue. Tim kept his comments to himself after that, but still pops up at random moments. His flimsy excuses of wanting to take unflattering photos of you and Jason don’t convince you.

Tim must have spoken to Dick about it because in turn Dick starts coming around the manor more. He spends the night often and drives back to Bludhaven in the morning. He crashes the movie nights you and Jason plan, often inserting himself in between you guys ‘in case he got scared’. (As if anyone would get scared watching a dreamworks movie). Jason allows Dick to drag him to the gym or out for a fast food run, but at the end of the day, Jason always ends up back at your side.

Damian slowly starts hanging around you guys more often too, like a cat approaching something unknown. If you acknowledge him and try to include him, he scurries away, but if allowed to approach at his own pace, he’ll join you with no qualms. You enjoy acting like an older sibling to Damian, considering he’s the only little brother you have. You buy tickets to aquariums and museums to take him to, which Jason more often than not, tags along with.

It may have taken an unconventional act, but you managed to glue a small part of your broken family back together. And you would do it again without hesitation.

-----------------

i tried!! reading yandere batfam fics is my guilty pleasure, and there's so many ones with a neglected reader, i thought 'what if the reader actually grew up loved by the batfam and saw how much being a vigilante hurts them and tries to elimate their enemies/things that hurt them'