#ofrobin

Her son isn’t hard to find. As the darkness of night cloaks the already dreary city, flashes of red, yellow and green are stark against Gotham’s usual color palette. One of the men representing the serums manufacturer mentioned a drop of product happening tonight. Talia was sure to get a good seat for the show about to unfold before her. 

Though it’ll prove a little difficult for the assassin when she watches her son break off from Batman’s protection, off fighting a handful of men that attempt to salvage the stock now that bats had rained on their parade. 

“The boy is fine, Talia.” A voice resonates at the back of her mind - and begrudgingly, it’s her father’s - assuring the daughter of the demon that her son would be okay. 

Until he wasn’t. Punches were getting too harsh for her liking, and Talia can feel herself subconsciously nearing the edge of the brick wall she’d been hiding behind. And then there’s a flash of silver metal that is unmistakable. In three quick strides, Talia is rushing to the point of action, a kick dismantling the gunman to place the weapon in her own hands. 

She figured if Robin was here, then Batman wasn’t trailing far behind - the last thing Talia needed to hear was how she shouldn’t have killed Damian’s attackers, that it’s poor vigilantism and parenting. Bullets are fired in the legs of these men, enough to subdue them so that Bruce could continue on with their investigation. Labored breathing is the only thing heard as the ringing from the gunshots wind down, and dark hues are searching for a perfectly matching set. 

“My adored,” she exhales, tucking the pistol into her waistband. “I’m sorry our reunion had to be like this. Are you okay?” 

“Uh - I don’t think that’s a good idea, esé.” Jaime frowns at the boy’s question, hesitant to broach the subject. There’s a reason Jaime doesn’t spar with the kid anymore. It’s gone pretty badly in the past - and sure, Jaime’s got way better control over both his temper and the scarab now, but that doesn’t make it a good idea. “I don’t think we should train together. If anything, scarab’s weapons have gotten more intense. I’m not sure we should put that to the test.”

The photos themselves take Gamora by surprise, and she can’t help but smile at the images of Peter, so small and excited, a wide smile spread across his face in almost all of them. She’s just admiring how much like his mother he looks when she hears him speak, and the shock and surprise that hits her leaves her frozen, utterly speechless as she looks up at him.

“Did you just..” She gasps, trying to put the pieces together. Where did he learn to say those words? How? It’s been so long since she heard anyone utter them but herself - since she was a child, years and years ago, so long ago that she barely remembers how they sound outside of her own voice. “Peter.. how? How did you learn this?” She mumbles in her own language almost unconsciously, and the photos are shaking in her hands as they begin to tremble.

      Knocking on the bathroom door again, Jon yells into the wooden door. “DAMIAN!! come on!! It’s been 10 minutes already!! I’m sure you look fine in my pj’s!!!” He reassures, trying to coax his best friend out of the safety of the bathroom. They had sleepovers often, and usually, Damian thought ahead and brought clothes beforehand. But a couple rounds of Mario Kart later, they decided to call it a night and have Damian spend the night. “Come on Damian!!! If you don’t hurry up I’ll unpause Mario and get ahead of you!!”

They’re always in contact somehow when they’re together, if it’s arms linked or shoulders bumping together while standing side by side - tonight it’s holding hands as Jaime reads through some emails on his phone. Milagro’s keeping him posted on what she’s been doing all summer and how she sneaks into his old room whenever she feels like the house is empty. He has Bart’s hand held loosely in his free hand, the two of them relaxing in bed after a full day exploring the city together.

He’s so focused on the updates from his family that he doesn’t notice when Bart shifts closer to him - it’s only when he looks up that he realises Khaji Da’s reaches out to pull Bart closer. That Scarab never ceased to amaze him - he hasn’t quire figured out what it is that’s making Khaji Da more inclined to welcome Bart into his space like this, but Jaime’s not complaining. “Don’t look at me, I dunno what his game is.” Jaime chuckles, setting his phone down and wrapping his arms around Bart loosely instead.