#dc comics reader insert

As Dick opens his mouth to speak on your behalf, you beat him to it. “Like the seed?” Though you'd attempted to make a joke on behalf of her name in an attempt to ease things, an awkwardness settles in the air before you speak again. “I-I just… haven’t met anyone like you before,” you mutter, still in a daze. With a shake of your head, you try to gather yourself. “You’re so tall… and pretty.”

A chuckle leaves her lips and her perplexed expression quickly turns into a smile. “Thank you,” she says your name and places a warm hand on your shoulder, “I believe I owe you a congratulations for surviving another revolution around the sun?”

“I-it’s 'Happy Birthday', Kori,” Dick reminds her, an amused and somewhat flustered look appearing on his face. A hand comes up to the back of his neck to rub at it. "Though, I suppose that's also not technically wrong," he mumbles to himself.

“Happy Birthday, then,” she repeats, eyes sincere as she returns your smile. After a moment she spots something behind you, as she suddenly squeals out an ‘ooh!’ before taking off. Both you and Dick watch as she examines and plays with a spiral straw within one of the colorful cups adorning a nearby table.

“Oh!” Dick calls your name again, tearing your attention away from the confusing sight you’d been observing. “These are my friends, Gar, and Rachel,” he introduces, patting them on the shoulders. “No Victor?”

“He… didn’t think this was the best place, you know, pool party—not to mention he got called off to Mogo with-“ Rachel whispers to Dick, though your attention is more drawn to their hair.

“It’s actually Garfield, but my friends call me Gar,” he extends a hand, to which you happily shake. “I hear it’s your birthday? How old are you turning?”

With a nod, you reply. “Sixteen.”

“Oh, boy! I remember those days,” Gar announces with a laugh, his arms stretching upward before one of them comes down to wrap around Rachel’s shoulder. “What a time.” Dick departs the conversation with a small wave in your direction as he walks toward Kori.

“Heh, yeah. Crazy… that’s for sure,” Rachel comments, her eyes only register you then when they turn from Gar onto you. They’re purple. “Happy Birthday! It’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Rachel. I hope it’s okay Dick invited us. We left your present on the present table. We weren’t really sure what you’d like-“

“-Had no clue, in fact!” Gar comments.

“-but we left a gift receipt in case you don’t. I know we just met, but Dick mentioned you guys didn’t get off on the best foot, and… I just want you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.” Raven finishes. One of her hands wrapping itself around the elbow of her other arm.

“Yeah, Dick can totally be a--well--you know, a dick sometimes,” Gar jokes. “Seriously though. He means well, but it just takes time to get used to him.”

“Thank you so much. You… didn’t have to get me anything, but thank you… and it means a lot,” you respond, an appreciative smile on your lips as you place a friendly hand on her shoulder. “I love your guys’ hair by the way, super cool.”

“Hey, thanks!” Gar speaks, while Rachel simply smiles appreciatively.

————

Though your Father, Alfred, Jason, and Dick kept pestering you about your upcoming birthday for the weeks leading up to it, you can’t deny that the scene before you does anything but warm your heart.

The man you now know as ‘Uncle’ Clark—even if you don’t entirely feel quite comfortable enough to call him that yet—flips burgers on the grill making idle conversation with your Father. The usually prim and proper infamous Gothamite Playboy is nursing a beer in his hand, and for once, is actually dressed in what you’d classify as something fatherly. Sunglasses sit on the top of his quaffed hair, a playful blue short-sleeve button-up adorned with flamingoes screams the theme of today’s party.

You’d always wanted one as a kid, and while some had them at the local community ones, you never got the chance to. Now, with your own indoor and outdoors… a pool party was perfectly within the realm of grasp when Alfred asked what kind of party you’d wanted.

The butler had taken it upon himself to make the cucumber sandwiches that you’d discovered you actually enjoy this Independence Day when he’d made them. Much to the boy’s chagrin, you might add. Nevertheless, when you’d spotted them earlier in the kitchen, you’d given the older man a hug and smile, thanking him. Now he takes a break as he sits at the patio table in a high chair sipping at some fruity drink with a twisty straw, a little umbrella toothpick punctured into a piece of pineapple resting against the rim.

“So…. Which one’s him?” Your childhood best friend, Daisha asks. Quickly following her gaze, you see she’s onto the right group of people, at least. He’s there, all right. “If I didn’t know he was your brother, I would’ve guessed green shorts just based off type,” she verbally points out Damian with a chuckle and nudge to your side.

A scoff escapes you before you can prevent it. Hand flying to your chest, you make a face of disgust. “Eww… why you would say that-?!”

“Lemme guess- Superman shorts?” She teases, studying your reaction. “I was just kidding! Calm down. Geez!” You can't bear it, however, still disgusted even by the implication, you shake your head before finally gathering enough strength to shoot her dagger eyes. "Okay, so I'll take that as a 'no'. That leaves only one option left: orange shorts," she announces.

Lying on the pool float nearby, hands clasped across his stomach relaxedly, eyes hidden behind sunglasses, their blue orbs follow the same path that the girls' do. Listening on their conversation, Tim revels in the fact that it seems they haven't picked up on it, yet he's getting all the juicy information. "He's cute. Simple, but cute, I guess. It's his eyes, isn't it?" It's the way your friend, what was it... Daisha? He's pretty sure it was. Daisha says it in such a sure way that makes him almost burst out laughing. You refute it, but the way your cheeks darken a bit doesn't lie. He watches you splash her meekly before a little war ensues, sending you swimming away, finally calming once you're both sat in the little alcove by the random steps along the side.

Unfortunately, the both of you are out of earshot now. While he'd want to drop a foot into the water off the float and try to use it to get momentum to drift in that direction, it'd be too obvious. However, just as Tim decides he has to do so, Gar and Dick come splashing noisily in his direction quick. As they pass in their little show of bravado of 'who can swim to the other end there and back faster?' their strokes send a current of waves making his floatie rock and his body wobble as he grips onto the sides, eager not to fall in. After all, he's only just gotten warm. Luckily, however, it would seem someone really is looking out for him as momentum sends the floatie in the direction of the alcove.

"So where's your hot brother?" Daisha asks

“Ouch,” Tim comments, sucking in a breath between his teeth. He lowers his shades down the bridge of his nose, revealing bright blue eyes that stare down at the two of you. “I have to assume you don’t mean me, considering I’m right here,” he partially jokes, feigning hurt as he puts his hand over his bare pale chest. It’s only after an awkward moment of you two worrying you’d offended him that he laughs.

It’s contagious. Daisha laughs, meanwhile you can’t help but smile, eventually joining in. Even if your thoughts still course through the back of your mind. Had he heard your conversation? Would he tell? Would he even care? “It’s okay,” he speaks up again, breaking the silence. “I didn’t take it personally. Though I will say that whoever it is you do think is ‘the hot brother’ is can guarantee you isn’t worth it, sunshine,” he divulges with a scoff as he shakes his head, shades back up in their proper position.

“Oh,” Daisha quietly exclaims in surprise, scooting closer to the edge of the underwater ledge. “And what makes you say that?” She baits, knowing it’s a sort of tactic many can’t resist. Give someone room to vent, and eight times out of ten they’ll dish. As she leans closer, expectantly waiting with a mischievous smile upon her lips, you can’t help but perk up, somewhat interested in the prospect of hearing his opinion on the family and whatever secret sides you’ve yet to witness.

“You really want to know?” Tim baits her back, teasing her with a hint of teetering on the edge of juicy gossip. “Might tarnish your image of whoever it is,” he throws out there with a singsong voice, followed by a mock yawn for exaggeration.

“Well you can’t just say something like tha-” Daisha begins to argue, brows furrowing.

“I’d be curious to know,” you admit, voice waning in volume the longer you speak. Unsure whether indulging in gossiping behind the other brothers’ backs is a good idea in the long run. This garners his attention as he lowers his shades again to eye you, the only person who hadn’t chimed in until now. There’s a brief look of speculation before a smirk breaks across his face. Pushing the shades back so they’re resting atop his head, Tim returns his gaze forward as he looks across the yard.

“Well… say it’s Dick,” the boy proffers, “he and Kori are constantly on and off at best. That’s just a lot more drama than I’d want to deal with, personally, but if that’s your thing- be my guest.” Of course, you’re sure he isn’t actually advising Daisha to go off and start flirting with them considering your age gaps. You can’t deny the tidbits he’s only starting to divulge utterly capture your attention, however. “But if that’s not enough, he’s so… hot-headed. Either cool as a cucumber or a flaming douchewad”

“Honestly… I could see it,” Daisha comments with a tilt of her head as her eyes drift to the couple across the yard, talking on the patio with their other friends: Gar and Rachel.

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed,” you respond. “Well, the first part anyways.”

“And if it’s Damian?” Tim scoffs again, a sort of laugh having mixed with it. “Forget about it! The little devil only cares if you’re an animal, and has no sense of a filter.”

“And lastly, if it’s Jason… well… then actually he’s probably your best bet. I mean, he’s sensitive, smarter than he looks, and is a good cook. Though he’s also somewhat impatient, righteous, and then there’s definitely the way that he’s more of a lone wolf, so… if you can put with that then, I guess by all means.” Tim chuckles as he shrugs, curious as to Daisha’s thoughts. As the girl looks over the party’s guests, she looks back at Tim with a dumbfounded look. Everyone has their red flags, you suppose.

————

Opening the back door, you tug your towel a little tighter around yourself as you try to keep it from falling. The empty platter you’d been asked to bring in by Mister Kent makes balancing the tasks tedious. Really, you’d wanted any task to get your mind off things, and perhaps go inside for a moment alone.

“Are you kidding me? You’re really going to fight this?!” Jason shouts. Finally raising your eyes to the scene before you in the kitchen, the men stand circled on the other side of the room behind the island.

“What? Like it caused a huge problem? She-” Dick scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Like she has any friends! We were only trying to help,” Damian says. Hands settling on his hips, he tilts his head in triumph up at the group.

“Boys-” Bruce grits through his teeth. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Oh really?” Tim chimes in. “Because you were so thoughtful!”

“It’s her birthday,” Bruce adds on.

“Oh, like you were being thoughtful by inviting Clark and Diana,” Dick accuses Bruce, turning his attention on the older man. The slow movement of the empty platter in your hand onto the counter to your left catches his attention. Out of the corner of his eyes he spots you.

Bruce clears his throat and straightens his posture. “Actually, I-” he tries to clarify himself.

“Exactly! Took the words out of my mouth,” Tim comments pridefully as he turns his focus from Dick to Bruce.

“It’s not your party either! You don’t get a say,” Damian argues with Tim.

“Guys,” Dick calls, his eyes on you with a guilty look. His eyes linger on you.

“And you’re still arguing this,” Jason sighs.

Tim clears his throat, having spotted you along with Dick. Before the rest of the group catches on, Alfred comes in from the dining room directly to your right. “What’s wrong?” He asks you worriedly. The unexpected voice is what gauges everyone’s attention. As Alfred’s hand slips onto your shoulder as he looks down at your wet cheeks, he has a sympathetic look on her face. “What’s going on?” His kindness suddenly turns sour as he turns his attention onto the men before you.

“We-” Damian begins, but a pointed look from Alfred shuts him up. If anyone was going to give a valuable explanation of what truly aspired, it certainly wasn’t Damian.

“I was trying to point out how shitty it was that they all invited their friends when the party isn’t for them,” Jason elucidates with a cross of his arms over his chest.

“We just thought it might be nice for there to be more people,” Dick adds on, rebutting Jason’s point.

“Yeah, she only has one friend!” Damian chides exasperatedly.

Alfred puts his hand up, effectively shutting them all up from any further comments. “Well, quite frankly I am sorely disappointed in the lot of you. Each of you knew better and even if you had good intentions in mind, it is still Miss-” he says your name, “birthday, and yet you have all made her cry.”

With a shake of your head, you wipe the tears from your cheeks, no longer crying. “It’s okay! Really,” you protest, “I’m not crying because anyone invited anyone, I just…” head hanging a little, you sigh before facing Alfred again. “If there was anyone I really wanted here, it was my mom. I realized that… she’s not gonna be there for anymore of my birthdays. And she was always the one who was there.” Voice dwindling the longer you speak, you find yourself getting choked up again. So much so that you have to turn toward the door again, the bright and festive landscape just outside the screen a stark contrast to the dark shadow seemingly surrounding you.

You don’t know if the sudden quiet in the kitchen is appreciated or not compared to the fighting that’d been taking place just moments ago. Behind your back all the men give each other looks as no one truly knows what to do, how to make it better for you. Yet, the old man comes through once more. With a hesitant and gentle touch of his hand to your shoulder again, Alfred’s presence is known. Perhaps it’s the warmth in his touch that makes you feel somehow cared for, or the way he’d stuck up for you when you didn’t even know you needed someone to.

“May I offer you a tidbit I’ve been pondering on,” Alfred proposes quietly. While you don’t face him, you simply nod; wiggling your nose, you don’t want any of them to see this side of you, crying, nose starting to run. “I may not have known your mother, yet, from everything I’ve heard about her, I can surmise that… I believe she would be happy that you’re taken care of, and, that it looked like you were having fun today.”

He lets the sentiment linger in the air for a moment before ever so gently tugging on your shoulder, encouraging you to face him. “Would you say that’s at least a somewhat accurate assumption?” The old man questions, the inkling of a smile on his lips as he simultaneously looks you over. It’s hard to say, really, the thought hadn’t crossed your mind… yet, deep down you know he’s right. Lips curling in on themselves, you nod slowly.

“Yeah,” you quietly respond. “I just… didn’t think about her at all, until… now.” While you’d managed to quell the silent tears, the hard truth you hadn’t wanted to admit stirs something in your gut as your eyes begin to well up.

“Can I give you a hug?” Alfred asks, hand tacitly beckoning forth the men outside your peripheral vision. Tentatively you nod in response, which leads to the man enveloping you in his arms. Clearly he doesn’t care if your bathing suit or towel dampen him. The tears naturally fall, and you grieve the loss of your mother once again. Yet, somehow the burden is slightly lessened as you feel not one pair, but two, then three, then so many you’ve lost count begin to surround you. It’s somewhat suffocating, honestly, yet the knowledge that you’re not alone, and these people actually care for you is something that makes you feel exactly what he’d said: cared for.

When you finally all break off and head back outside, you find that falling back into the rhythm and excitement of the party is easy. Overall, it’d been a fun day! Seeing Lois Lane in a stunning one piece and gigantic sun hat was so unlike anything you’d ever seen before, not to mention that you’d gotten to play football with their son, Jon. Sure, maybe a part of it was to impress Billy with your skills, but you’d all had a blast! You’d also gotten to meet your Father’s closest friends. Getting to know Clark Kent better, he seems like a nice and fun guy. Diana Prince was definitely fun to talk to, her business in art restoration eliciting a lot of curious questions on your behalf. Then there was also the fact that she was just generally stunning and you wish you could know some of her beauty secrets.

Then there was Steph who showed up with another friend in tow: Connor. He was fun, offering for you to join them as they played a sort of makeshift Volleyball game in the pool. Surprisingly, your team of you, Connor, and Daisha won against Steph, Tim, and another friend who’d showed up later: Kara. You’d have thought she and Stephanie were practically twins if she hadn’t introduced herself. Unfortunately, she couldn’t stay long and you didn’t really get the chance to talk to her all that much, but her cheery personality definitely uplifted the energy of the party.

Next, you finally were introduced to your apparent cousin who’d come late: Helena, as your Father introduced. She definitely appeared bougie from the looks of her, though that’s something you actually were impressed by, silently wishing to one day embody such an aesthetic. Lastly, Billy’s brother ‘intruded’ for a few minutes as his family had come to pick him up, the brother named Freddy exuding a whirlwind of excitement as he raved about your family’s legacy. You couldn’t deny he was funny, and you had wished he’d showed up earlier.

Lying in bed that night, you run over the day’s events and can’t help but feel that it was a definite success as you remember the way everyone had gathered around you with the lights turned off on the patio as they sang Happy Birthday to you. The wish had taken a moment as you hadn’t known what to possibly wish for, yet ultimately it came to you. Everyone made you feel utterly whole, and as you’d taken the time to talk to your mom’s picture later, informing her of the day’s events, you can’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe you’re making progress. It’d been a good day. Heck, a great day. You’d even gotten a few moments to flirt with Billy when Daisha distracted the other two with her words and charms.

The others’ birthdays pass in quick succession. Alfred and Jason have a joint birthday, the party lively and filled with a nice dinner and board games to follow. You’d been surprised by your Father’s talent at charades, while Damian’s struggle at Scrabble was somewhat illuminating.

Next is Damian’s birthday, which is everything you’d expect of a teen turning fifteen. Filled with his close knit of friends, you all enjoyed a day of laser tag, cake, and putting up with the birthday boy’s behavior. It wasn’t awful, but it’d been interesting to see the boy attempt to truly enjoy himself. Weirdly it seemed as though it came second nature for him.

————

Knocking on the door, you’re quickly met by someone unexpected. Lips parting in shock, your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Billy?” As the two of you stare at one another, it doesn’t take long for a bigger hand to wind up on the door, opening it wider.

“Aren’t you gonna invite her in?” Mister Kent asks with a chuckle. “Come on in,” he says your name. It elicits an appreciative smile, as you hadn’t thought he’d remembered, or that he cared, but apparently you were wrong. “You two know each other?” He asks, closing the door behind you as the two of you shuffle further inside.

“We’ve met,” Billy replies hesitantly, green eyes shifting over to meet yours. A sheepish smile sits on his lips.

“Briefly,” you add. “I just came by to pick up-“

“-Damian. Of course! No problem,” Mister Kent repeats your name, “we’re just setting the table. Do you want to help? The boys are out back, but we’re about to sit down and have dinner.” Upon this revelation, you’re confused as to why Billy’s here, nevertheless, you put on a gracious smile and nod your head.

“Sure!” You respond. Mister Kent shoves forks and knives in your hands, a stack of plates wedged in the crook of his arm.

“I’m assuming you’ll be joining us? Do you mind grabbing another set, Billy?” Mister Kent asks. “You showed up just in time!” With a smile in your direction, you feel a little embarrassed. Now you’re the one with a sheepish smile. Billy nods and heads into where you assume the kitchen is. As Mister Kent walks through the open doorway to the dining room, you find yourself feeling bad for having to turn them down.

“Alfred is actually making us something right now. I was just sent to pick up Damian, since I’m working on my driver’s license right now,” you reveal. With a thick swallow, you meet the man’s eyes with a saddened smile.

“Well, it’ll take at least an hour and a half to drive back, so what if you call up Alfred and tell him you’ll be late? No sense in him starting something when we’ve got plenty to share. Plus, I’m sure Jon would love to see you again.”

Mentally debating it, Mister Kent distracts you with another question. Multitasking, he starts putting down the plates and arranging the cups that were already on the table. “Also, if you only have your permit—forgive me,” he states your name, “-but how did you drive all the way here? Aren’t you supposed to have an adult with you to supervise?”

An awkward chuckle leaves your lips as your free hand comes up to rub at the back of your neck. “I did! Sort of… everyone else is away, so Alfred was the only one available and he was on FaceTime the whole time I was driving-“

“-so you were on the phone and driving the whole way here?! Absolutely not, I’ll-“

“-It was Alfred’s idea! Plus, he said he didn’t have time to pick up Damian and go with me for driving hours, so-“ You defend.

“-I still don’t see in any way how that’s a-“

“-Oh, hush now, Clark. She was obviously safe, and if anything were to happen then at least Alfred would be able to call someone, right?” A woman interrupts as she walks out from the kitchen holding a plate of corn cobs and a bowl of baked beans. Sliding around the big man, she places the items down on the table. Billy chuckles in the doorway of the kitchen as he watches the man capitulate to the woman’s defense.

“Right…” you slowly get out. Though it dawns on you who this is, now that you can see her face. “You’re Lois Lane! The reporter- the journalist from the Daily Planet!” It comes out before you can stop it, and you’re suddenly visibly in awe at the fact that you’re literally in the room with a celebrity.

“That, I am. I take it you’re a fan? I’m glad some kids are still into literature and current events in this day and age,” she responds, “lord knows so many kids are all about that tick talk now and all those different YouTube celebrities.” With a deep breath, she places her hands on the back of the chair at the head of their table.

“Anyway, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says your name, “I’ve heard so little of you I was beginning to think you were just a story my boys made up! Please, sit. We’re just bringing out the rest of the food. Don’t let Clark guilt you into helping him like he did, Billy,” she chides. With a laugh she heads back into the kitchen, sneaking around her husband once more.

“I did not guilt him,” Clark defends, “did I guilt you into helping me, Billy?” The man looks over at the boy leaning against the doorway’s frame watching the whole scene pan out before him. Suddenly with the attention on him, he jumps into action, placing the final setting in the last seat open at the table.

“I wouldn’t say ‘guilt’… though I did only come in to use the bathroom,” Billy responds, chuckling at the end as he tries to play his words off as a joke. “I don’t mind helping though. I have to do this every Tuesday night at home anyways.”

“Why Tuesdays?” Clark questions, finally standing up to his full height again as he’s done straightening the plates and cups.

A goofy smile emerges on the boy’s lips as he shrugs. “I don’t know, cause every other day was taken, I guess? I mean, there are six of us, so there’s not a lot of other days to choose from when they’ve all already picked, you know?” He jokes.

Processing all this new information, you’re still stunned that Lois Lane knew your name, and heard about you from the men. While you’d probably wonder what they’d told her any other time, Billy’s words have you wishing he’d say more, curious to hear more about him. “You… have six siblings?”

“Don’t you have, like, five?” He retorts, looking down at you from where he stands by the opposite head of the table Lois had been at.

“Touché,” you reply, “though to be fair, I didn’t know I had any till a few months ago, and… really I’m only related to one of them.”

“I guess that’s cool. I mean, I’m not technically related to any of my siblings so there’s that,” Billy comments.

Lois pesters Clark to sit down, so he heads to the other end of the table to sit at the other head. She lies a plate full of veggies and another with buns and burgers on them upon the table. “Would you guys mind getting the boys? Then let me know what you’d all like to drink.” As she heads back into the kitchen, you look from the man to Billy, who nods for you to follow him.

Rounding the wall cutout between the dining room and living room, you walk past their couch, coffee table, and television to the sliding glass door. “So… you’re getting your license?” Billy asks.

“Trying to,” you joke. As you brush your hair behind your ears, you listen as the boy goes on about summer coming to an end.

“You’re gonna be a… Senior?” He questions, turning his green eyes on you as he comes to a stop only a few meters from the house.

“Yeah! And you?”

“Same. I honestly can’t believe it,” he admits with a shake of his head. As the two of you linger there, eyes meeting and averting each other, he eventually draws his attention to the laundry hung up on the clothesline a yard in front of you. “Jon! Damian! Dinner time,” he yells between cupped hands.

Soon enough you’re all sat around the table. A prayer ensues before you all dig in, passing dishes around the table in a manner you’re more accustomed to than dinner at home. “Do you have any plans for the fall?” Lois asks you, your name falling off her tongue easily.

With a swallow of the corn in your mouth, you nod your head. “Well, Alfred has really been pushing for me and Damian to do something after school, like sports or something,” you begin, everyone’s attention falling onto you with intent expectation. “And I thought maybe it’d be fun to try out for the cheerleading squad. The tryouts are next week, so, I’ve been trying to practice and get ready.”

“That’s amazing! I hope tryouts go well,” Lois compliments. “Are you trying out for anything Damian?”

An annoyed scoff slips past his lips as the boy has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. “No. I think not, though there are a few clubs that may have caught my intrigue. I doubt they’ll be up to standard but it’s worth scouting out the competition.”

“I’m joining Chess Club!” Jon adds.

“Well, these all sound like fruitful endeavors. What about you Billy?” Clark asks.

A thoughtful hum comes from the boy, even if he has his head downward on his plate, pushing the food around. “I’m not entirely sure yet.”

“Well, I know some sports stop taking people before the school year starts, and clubs fill up fast. So I’d check with the school to see what you can do! It’d definitely look good on your resume going forward,” Lois posits.

Continuing to indulge in idle conversation throughout dinner, soon enough it’s ended and of course Lois insists she can handle the dishes. Bidding the Kent family goodbye, Lois and Clark offer you a tight hug before stopping you at the door. “You’re welcome here anytime,” Clark states.

“We wanted you to know that. While we don’t know the entire circumstance of your situation, we wanted to let you know we’re here for you,” Lois expands.

With the warm sentiment and full bellies, you’re off. Still somewhat giddy that you’d gotten a hug from Billy, you try to memorize the feeling. You’d also gotten one from Jon, too, which was nice, but… you can’t help the way you feel about Billy. While Damian had vaguely put up a fight against you driving, it was his only option of getting home, so he acquiesced. Nevertheless, you’re feeling hopeful for the beginning of the new school year!

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo , @penelopepine

Diana shook her head but did as you asked until the fevered heat burned away the blissful cool. Diana switched hands. “You should have called someone, Y/N. A doctor…a friend.”

You waved off her concerns. “I’ll be fine,” you said. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself…I’ve been doing it forever. And anyway it’s only the flu. We humans get it all the time.”

“I know. I left my home and joined your human societies at the height of the influenza epidemic of 1918.”

You blinked. “Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?”

Diana shook her head. And when your fevered brow swallowed up the cool, she moved about the room, picking up dirty dishes and emptying the overflowing trash can at your bedside.

You frowned at her. “What are you doing?”

“Taking care of you. I’ll be back with medicine and a cold compress,” she promised over her shoulder.

You didn’t know how to feel. Being taken care of, and looked after, was a luxury you’d never been rich enough to afford. Both in love and friendships as well as actual funds. It felt…strange. And a little burdensome.

Almost as quickly as she’d gone, Diana returned with more than she promised. In only a few moments she returned with a tray holding medicine, the compress, a thermometer, a steaming bowl of leftover soup from the fridge, and a tall glass of orange juice. She sat the tray down, told you to sit up, and started fluffing your pillows. All the while you were silent.

“You’re not a burden, Y/N.”

Your face heated. “I-I didn’t say—“

“You didn’t have to. I know you, my friend. I know your life has been hard. Just as I know that you feel as if asking for basic care and attention makes you feel as if you’re asking too much. You’re not.” Diana took you by the shoulders and laid you back against the pillows. “Let me do this for you.”

“Yeah... at 14th,” you responded quietly.

“Okay, head south,” he paused. “You still have the address?” You responded affirmatively. “Good, keys under the mat. Shitty hiding spot I know but it’s only been there like an hour.” He attempted to lighten the mood and you appreciated it, a small smile lighting face.

“Remember to avoid cameras! ATMs have them so I had the bank send a second credit card to the apartment. They’ll think I’m on a business trip to Gotham so no problems there.”

“I’ll pay you back I-“

He scoffed. “None of that. I’m a fucking lawyer working for the biggest firm in America. I think I can take on some financial burden to protect my best friend.” The emphasis on the word ‘burden’ made your lips twitched into a small smile. Sarcastic bastard. A beat of silence passed as you ascended the stairs. It had been so long since you had been to this city and you paused to look around. The promise of impending fall lingered in the air as you noted a slight chill go through your body. Good, you thought, more layers would be easier to hid in.

“I-” you cut yourself off with a sigh, knowing how stubborn he could be. “Thank you, Tom.”

You could tell from his chuckle that he was pleased. “Security at the building knows you’re staying in my apartment and won’t bother you. Be warned, there are cameras in the lobby but try not to seem suspicious, alright?”

“Did you give them my fake name?”

“Yeah...” you could hear him shuffling around a bit, his dog barking in the distance. “Make sure to check in frequently. Nick and I will look into our next options, alright?” You agreed. “Alright, gotta go. Love you, call me soon!”

“Love you too,” you mumbled while hanging up.

As you moved through the dreary city, you kept your head down and simply dodged any oncoming people. The dark towering buildings of Gotham caged you in but at the same time, gave you a little hope that you would be hidden within it’s shadows. The walk was short and easy, but unnerving. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end, it felt like eyes were on you at all times. You didn’t breath easily until you were in the comfort of Tom’s apartment.

Even though you were happy to be away from people, you still did a sweep of the apartment, making sure nothing was out of place and nothing was suspicious. You knew it was unlikely that anyone knew you were here or that it had been bugged, it helped easy your nerves just a little bit. The second thing you did was unpack your large duffle bag. Beyond clothing and necessities, all it really had was your official papers (id, passport, etc), a phone charger, and a pistol. You let out an uneven breath as you placed the weapon on the table. This is the safety lock. Be careful there is recoil with it. Arms like this, yeah. Nick’s words rang in your head, this was real. You were shocked by how heavy it was and still couldn’t see yourself using it even in self defense.

“Credit card,” you mumbled to yourself, breaking the spell of the glinting metal. You needed food and food required money so unfortunately that meant braving the world one more time. “Fuck.” With a sigh, you rubbed your hand over your face, tired and drained.

You grabbed the hat one more time, a common Gotham Knights baseball cap and fixed it to cover your face. The plain, baggy navy hoodie worked to obscure your figure. One more look over confirmed that you looked like an everyday Gothamite. Deep breaths.

You avoided the elevator, less chance of being on camera, bonus: less people. The card was in the mail, just like promised and you headed once more out to the streets.

About an hour later you were a block away from the apartment building, arms laden with bags. It was going fine, no one paid you attention (though the burning feeling of eyes on you persisted). A sharp hit to your shoulder sent your bags flying, eliciting curses from you, directed at the man that bumped you. He looked at you, surprised as though you had materialized out of nowhere.

“Seriously dude?”

“Shit, sorry,” his voice was rough. He shoved a hand through his black hair a shock of white in the front, looking flustered. You gave him a roll of your eyes but mumbled something along the lines of ‘yeah it’s fine.’

He awkwardly helped you gather the strewn groceries. Had your anxieties not been going haywire, you would have noted that he was attractive with blue eyes, and a tall, muscular body. When you had all your bags back, you walked away, ignoring the fact that he looked like he wanted to say something else.

Back in the apartment you kept yourself together long enough to put away the groceries. By then you were too tired to cook and the anxiety had left you with no hunger.

You paced in the living room, which was an open concept with the kitchen, giving you a direct eye line to the daunting gun on the table. By the time your feet were tired, you were able to at least sit down and realize pacing solved nothing. Unfortunately. You decided another sweep of the apartment may help though, so thats what you did.

After debating it for far too long, you took the gun into the bedroom and placed it in the nightstand. The bedroom was typical with white walls and nice furniture. The comfortable looking sky blue duvet was no surprise. Suddenly you were appreciative of Tom’s taste for the finer things. The apartment overall was very nice and you couldn’t fault it. Thankfully he was also concerned with security, you mused. Your nightly routine was short and you quickly got into bed before you could get yourself stuck in another loop of bad coping mechanisms. Maybe something else would help you relax, the tense muscles of your shoulders beginning to ache.

You picked up the book on the opposite nightstand and began to read. The words ran together and you couldn’t untangle them, causing you to re-read the same paragraph over and over. Then you attempted to meditate. All you saw was red and yellow and orange. You glanced to the nightstand where his white noise machine sat. When in Rome... Almost immediately you regretted that decision as the noise simply overwhelmed you.

After a few minutes of sitting in silence, the room dark, your eyes felt heavy, but your anxieties spiked. You tried to sleep anyway. Eventually, the world faded away and you slept. It was not restful.

You hummed as you stirred the ingredients in a bowl. A song played that you kind of knew - not enough to sing but enough to sway your hips. Your apartment was cozy and exactly how you wanted it. Intense eyes stared at you from the window of your apartment, you could feel his fiery gaze.

Burning. Burning. Burning.

The bowl slipped from your hands, flames rose from the stove, the oven roared to life.

“Mine.” His voice melded with the sound of the flames. “You are mine. Do not run from me.”

As the flames spread around you and your apartment fell away, he rose before you. Intimidating figure cut from stone, eyes of fire, hair of gold. The god he thought himself to be, brought to life.

Breathe.

The roar and crackle of the fire intensified until it was so loud you had to clamp your hands over your ears. The god’s lips move, smiling as he does. The words his lips formed repeated. Over and over. Over and over.

Slowly, you removed your hands to be met by not a roar but deafening silence. You couldn’t hear the god. Now, you could read his lips, “I will find you. Do not worry. I am coming. I love you.”