"Who's your favorite Superhero?"
It's a question that Bruce has heard a lot in his tumultuous career as Batman, and yet-unless the person being asked is strictly a citizen of Gotham-the answer is never him. I know...why isn't he happy that Gothamites automatically think of him? But therein lies the problem: it's an automatic response, not a genuinely heartfelt one. I mean, who is Bruce to say that it's not heartfelt? And he's not saying they don't appreciate him, but no one knows the minds and thoughts of Gotham's people better than Bruce Wayne, and he knows how petty the people can get/be. A lot of them automatically answer Batman just to not acknowledge any other hero (especially Superman) as a great hero.
Bruce knows that he didn't become Batman to get praises or special awards for the blood he shed just to protect his city, but sometimes the man finds himself thinking that once...just once...it would be nice if someone meant their answer.
"Who's your favorite hero?"
Bruce softly sighs as he slowly comes to awareness, his eyes fluttering open to look at the TV, a small smile overtaking the natural frown on his face at the sight of a toddler dressed as Zatanna on screen. "My favorite hero is Tanna." The reporter on screen softly coos at the cute response, and admittedly so does Bruce...internally of course, the woman gesturing towards the well made outfit and chuckling softly when the little girl automatically gives a twirl. "And why is Zatanna your favorite Superhero?"
The little girl gives a big smile to the camera, a twinkle in her eyes as she excitedly grabs at the microphone and pulls it towards her mouth.
"She's my favorite hero cause she does magic! And she helps people! And I met her when the L-League came to help my city cause aliens were being mean!! She was very nice."
Bruce watches closely the reaction of the girl, now that she mentions it, she does look familiar. Her name is Lindsey and the incident she refers to only happened about three months ago...it was the poor things Birthday when aliens invaded, but it's great to see that she seems to be doing well now. Bruce remembers rushing over to the child, but he was a little too slow...cause you know? He's only a human. Luckily Zatanna chanted a spell that caused the girl to vamp from the place she was frozen in and into her arms, if she didn't, Lindsey would have been impaled by the alien's sword like limb and Bruce did not want to witness another child die that day, thank you very much.
Is that the problem? He's not nice enough?
Bruce knows he's a tough man to get close to, and it's even harder actually making conversation with him, but he feels like with children, that all those sharp edges get significantly softer...yet he hardly sees children at these events dressed as Batman.
The man yet again is snapped out of his thoughts by the TV shutting off, his gaze turning towards the small child grumpily eyeing him. "And what exactly are you doing, father?"
Despite the obvious sour disposition the boy has right now, Bruce finds himself relaxing at the appearance of his son...his biological son at that. Which isn't that crazy? He never thought that he'd have a legitimate child, only that he was meant to adopt until the Manor is as loud, full and cozy as he can get it. "Well, I was watching the news program Damian." Bruce's gaze softens when the furrow of the other's brow deepens, the older groaning softly as he finally sits up and silently regrets choosing to doze off on the couch of all places. "What are you doing?"
To be honest...Bruce isn't sure how this question will go. Damian is still relatively new here, and this thing between them (the parent-child relationship that is) is as sensitive as Richard watching Old Yeller, so he's not sure if the boy will even bother answering. It seems as though the main emotion Damian responds with is anger, and if it's not full blown anger, then it's a heavy amount of irritation with everyone or everything around him โ but Bruce understands, everything here is probably way different than what Damian was taught by the League of Assassins, and the boy simply needs the time and space to process this.
Bruce's only hope is that The Manor can be that place for his son.
"What am I doing?" Damian looks down at the floor, his tone carrying a hint of genuine confusion as though he never expected to be asked such a thing. "Well, father, to be honest-" he looks back up into Bruce's eyes-"I have no clue. Nobody but me, you and Alfred are here at the moment, so no one else is home. I watch you laze around all day doing absolutely nothing when there are things that need to be done, missions that need not wait, but yet you choose to wait and sit at home and I have no idea why. Why aren't we doing anything? Don't you know that I'm ready to fight by your side?" Bruce's heart races in his chest. Are him and Damian having a moment? The boy seems genuinely curious and confused, and yes there's that bit of irritation we mentioned earlier, but that's normal right now for the boy, at the moment...Damian simply seems to be asking a serious question. The older swallows away any nerves trying to creep up, keeping himself composed as he usually does, even if he quickly wipes away the sweat on his palm onto the couch cushions. "That's not usually a part of my normal routine."
Bruce waves his hand around the room, his voice steady even though he feels so shaky.
"The staying home, I mean. I usually am working myself into a coma by now, but I decided to watch the television instead." Damian frowns slightly and looks down at the remote in his hand, "Tch! And you started dozing off? Why? I'm quite offended that you would change your whole routine for me-" he grips onto the remote hard-"if...if you find my skills to be inadequate to you, I only ask that you allow me to show you what I'm capable of, and if even then you still find me to be of no proper use to you...I shall be sent back to mother in my shame." Bruce looks at the boy in horror, automatically stretching out his hands to โ I don't know? Comfort him I think? He isn't too great with the whole initiating touch, not when focusing on it at least, and it's bad that he's hyper focusing on every little detail of his son right now.
"You are my son, Damian."
By the time the shorter looks back up at Bruce, the man has already placed his hands back onto his lap. "Yes. That I am aware of and take the utmost pride in."
"Then that's enough." Oh...he said that out loud. "I need you to just be my son...that's all I ever need is any of you kids to be is mine. And I-I didn't change my routine to try to hurt you...I just want...I want to be present for you, cause Heaven knows that I wasn't at my best with Dick and especially Tim."
Damian softly oh's and messes around with the buttons on the remote, "And what about Todd?"
Bruce smiles softly and looks at the coffee table, "He was good for me. Don't get me wrong, all of you were and are something I need or needed, but Jason came at a time where I was struggling a lot and he was like the silver lining in my very bleak and cloudy sky."
He doesn't pose it as a question, but Damian's tone sounds displeased, dare Bruce say jealous.
"Todd doesn't really seem like that now. He seems like he's now the bleakness to your sky with that attitude."
Every single one of his children has a bit of a nasty attitude deep down, some more noticeable than others, but not without their reasons. "Try to be more understanding towards Jason...he-he's been through a lot that causes him to be a raging storm." Bruce being one of those reasons goes unsaid, but Damian is smart, he can pick up on it I'm sure.
The boy clicks his tongue and tosses the remote onto the couch next to Bruce's thigh, the two sitting in a slightly awkward silence as the older begins to brood over the topic discussed.
The ten-year-old presses his lips together and gestures for his father to speak first.
"Damian, I was going to tell you to get ready. I thought about what you said about missions...and you are right, we shouldn't be sitting around doing nothing." The boy stands a little taller at those words, giving Bruce his undivided attention. "And you just reminded me of something extremely important that I need help with." Bruce stands up and approaches his little boy, "You said that you wanted to prove your usefulness to me, yes?"
Damian nods, "Yes father. I want you to see that I deserve to be here."
Bruce places a gentle hand on the small shoulder, "Good. Then we leave in five minutes. Suit up."
"So what kind of mission is this, father? We don't seem to be heading anywhere that is familiar. " Damian peaks out of the passenger side window, taking in the bright neon signs of the restaurants they pass by. "In time you'll come to learn that not every mission we do is action-packed twenty-four-seven, but that having patience and knowing how to wait is a huge part of our world. You'll also learn that we don't always chase down the big guys from Arkham, but us Bats deal with the regular stuff too, like laundering schemes or trafficking. Today though, we aren't dealing with traffickers, but maybe some other day."
Damian hums to let father know that he's listening to every word, his green eyes narrowing at the obnoxiously colored sign that reads 'Bat Burger' as the Batmobile pulls into the parking lot.
"We are dealing with a laundering front?"
Bruce turns to Damian with a serious look, "I need you to do something for me. We are going to order something from this place, but I'm sending you in alone, I will keep watch here." The boy quickly unbuckles and holds out his small hand when Batman gestures for one, the older placing an ear piece on his palm and some cash. "Get me a large fry and the double chocolate Batshake, and make sure to order something for yourself if you want it."
Damian puts in the earpiece and grips tightly onto the money as he exits the car, head held high as he smoothly makes his way to the entrance doors. His instincts are telling him to be light on his feet...to try and sneak his way through the parking lot, but when looking at the individuals inside the establishment, he realizes that stealth isn't needed because him and father fit right in. I mean, there are a bunch of maniacs inside dressed as heroes and villains alike, for fun! And maybe it's a bit hypocritical to call them maniacs, but to reiterate: they're doing so just for fun, not to maintain a genuine secret identity. The boy takes a deep breath in and opens up the door, his shoulder tensing when the bell rings to notify staff that someone entered or left, said bell sounding like The Joker's cackling...why do they find this amusing? Harley Quinn, better yet known as the cashier, gives Damian a genuinely sweet smile at first before she gets into character and smiles a bit more unhinged. "Heya doll! Cute outfit ya got there! The names Harley, what can I getcha today?" May Gotham give Damian Batman's patience, because he already feels his eyes trying to roll into the back of his head. He honestly doesn't see the humor in dressing up as the people who make innocent people's lives hell, but father is entrusting this mission to him...so there's no way that a fake Quinn will be the reason he ruins it. "I'm not a doll, you pillock, I am Robin-"
The woman let's a giggle slip and covers her mouth, "Of course ya are. Did Batman send you here on a mission?"
Okay...how did she know that?
Damian remains calm even though he is now glaring daggers at the woman, his hands instinctively grabbing at the hilt of a sword that he isn't presently carrying. "Stay in your place Quinn or I will help you find it." Something in this little child's stare gives Harley the heebie-jeebies, so she tries to break the tension by laughing (forcefully) and raising her hands in surrender. "Alrighty...I understand. I'm no match for Robin, I get it, but everyone needs sustenance and I'm sure even The Bat gets hungry, so what would you like to order?" Robin crosses his arms and looks up at the menu, "I would like a large fry and the double chocolate Batshake โ please." He quickly glances around at all the people dressed up and eating around them...everyone-despite the concerning signs of mental ailments surrounding him-looks like they are having fun, there are even families sitting together, one such family dressed as members of the Batclan: Batman (the father), Catwoman (the mother), Nightwing (the oldest son), Batgirl (the daughter) and Robin (a baby).
He frowns slightly at the image they make, they seem to be having fun, something Damian knows he's not too great at.
"And what about you, little bird? I wouldn't assume that Batman is so cruel as to send you to only getting him something? Unless that order was for you?" Robin promptly looks up at the woman, an irritated huff escaping his lips from the words. "Then don't assume, it makes you look foolish. And Batman is not cruel, he's the kindest man I know-" he frowns slightly-"maybe a little too kind. Fine...I admit the oversaturated appearance of this horrifyingly gaudy establishment has peaked some sort of interest within my being, I shall take a small fry and a small double brownie Robinshake, everything is to go. I wonder if it's taste will be as overwhelming as the decor?" Harley puts in the order and gives the total while she quietly murmurs her complaints about the slander statements made about the decorative choices. "Okay! We'll have your order ready in a jiffy." Robin rolls his eyes...is jiffy even a professional term to use in a workplace setting? I mean, he understands it's not corporate, but who uses jiffy?
Just as he thinks that, a waiter dressed as The Joker walks by and it's then that he decides jiffy is an accurate term for people to use here, the bunch of psychos.
But, he has to admit, whatever front this is is a pretty dang good one. If he weren't the actual Robin himself, he'd be fooled by it and think that it's just any regular (well, as regular as it gets in a place like Gotham) restaurant for people to go to. But the reminder of his mission brings up a very important point: he can't actually eat his snacks, because Batman most likely needed a sample of whatever they hide in the food...I mean, the place is kind of giving a drug front, the people here definitely seem like they could/would do them โ ah, but children are even eating here, so maybe they do have a regular menu and the specific items father ordered have all the evidence he needs to finally bust them?
Honestly, while he might not have been sent out to do anything really serious, Robin is having fun with this mission. If nothing else, than because father trusted him to do something alone.
"Here you are! Two milkshakes: a large double chocolate Batshake and a small double brownie Robinshake, and two fries: a large and small. We appreciate ya for ordering here, I hope you enjoy!"
Robin is kind of impressed with how quickly she really did get this out to him, but he's even more impressed by how foolish these people are. Little do they know that within the week, Batman and Robin will have the GCPD raiding this place and exposing it for what it truly is. "No, I appreciate you." He throws the rest of the cash Bruce gave to him down onto the counter (cause she's going to want to spend that before she gets caught) with an eerie smile and exits the restaurant just as confidently as when he came into it, doing his best not to run back to the Batmobile excitedly because he got the goods just like father asked of him. "I have accomplished the mission, father!" He exclaims as he climbs into the car, eyes gleaming as he keeps an eye on Bruce's face while the older checks the bag. "Everything is here, great job, Robin. I know the perfect place to debrief."
Something flutters in Robin's heart at the praise, quickly buckling in and holding the drink case and food as Batman starts up the Batmobile.
The Batmobile slowly pulls up to an abandoned parking lot โ honestly to Damian, it's giving those abandoned kissing lots portrayed in older films, but the view is nice from the height as the Batmobile's roof pulls back.
Damian hands over the bag and looks around the Batmobile, "Is there some sort of hidden drug detection device in this thing?" Bruce smirks softly and shakes his head, handing over Damian's small fry and shake to him. "No, just a late night run for a snack. You did very well today son, thank you." The boy looks down at his food in disbelief, "You mean...I didn't actually help with anything?" He's doing his best not to let the disappointment show in his voice, but he feels like a joke right now, like father doesn't take him seriously. "Wasn't that place just a cover up for some money laundering scheme or drug cartel? That woman disguising herself as Harley Quinn managed to accurately guess that you sent me for a mission...even if by accident, so they are probably smarter than they lead us to believe." Bruce pulls back his mask and bites into a deliciously salty fry, turning halfway in his seat so he's facing his son slightly, while his right leg is resting on the console. "Damian-" he gently turns the child's face to himself, carefully peeling off the face mask and giving the boy a smile-"those are just regular everyday people working for money, not secret drug lords or professional thieves. The mission was to go support them - but I get it, okay? When I first saw and heard of Batburger...I reacted the same way you did: I wasn't impressed, and while I still may not understand why they enjoy dressing up as villains some of them, I've come to find out that ultimately it's just a part of their job and has nothing to do with them as individuals." Bruce sighs at the still troubled look on Damian's face, "Look. It's become a sort of tradition to do things like this with each Robin or member of our team. I didn't go to Batburger with Dick or Jason because it wasn't around at the time, but I took them to get treats, because even though all of you are very different from each other, the one thing you kids have in common is your zeal for the mission and your perceptions on what the mission should entail to you. Sometimes you all think the mission should be throwing yourselves into the line of fire...and to be fair, I thought that at first too, but I thought differently when I took Richard in. Each and every single one of you kids has made my view on what the mission is and can be change...it doesn't always have to be intense or a close call, neither does it have to be extremely dangerous or harrowing...but maybe sometimes my mission is to simply live peacefully with all of you, in moments like these."
Damian goes to protest, but he finds the words never even making it out of his mouth when seeing the look in his father's eyes.
Even if he hasn't done anything worthy of it?
Damian feels his eyes grow wet and quickly steals a spoon of Bruce's shake to hopefully distract from it, "I think...I think I still have a lot of learning to do, father. You say that you want me to be your son...but I don't even know who that is." Bruce softly wipes away the lone tear falling down the other's cheek, "My son is you, Damian. It's not what you could do for me or even what you can be, but it's simply just you."
"I...I don't really think I'm that great." Damian sniffles as he's lifted onto Bruce's lap, the man rubbing his side comfortingly. "You have a lot to figure out, son, and that's okay. I know it may not mean anything right now...but I think you are already the greatest simply because your mine, and I only hope you'll let me be present for you as you figure yourself out? I-I didn't really get to have that with my mother and father."
Damian listens to the strong beat of his father's heart and the pain in his voice, realizing that maybe he isn't here to fight people, but to help heal his father too. "I want to be your son โ I am your son, father, and thank you for being mine too."
Bruce buries his nose into the soft hair and tightens his hold on Damian, feeling a part of his world reciprocate the hug back just as tightly.
"And who's your favorite Superhero?"
It's a question that Bruce has heard a lot in his tumultuous career as Batman, and before he would say that unless you are a Gotham born citizen, then your answer would be someone else, that no one really ever picks him as a heartfelt answer.
And maybe not a lot of people do...not unless you are his son.
The reporter freezes for a second at actually getting an answer from Robin, the Batclan usually avoid interactions with media, but not this time. "Excuse me...you said...Batman? Just because you work with him, doesn't mean you are forced to choose him. He's heartless-"
"Don't make assumptions-" Robin cuts off the reporter with a cold glare-"it makes you look foolish. You don't know Batman like I know him, and you never truly will. I have seen him bleed for a people that never truly like or love him simply because he cares for you that much, and he keeps moving because the simple thought of anyone losing their lives on his watch is unacceptable. I've watched him hunched over case files long forgotten by the 'justice' system simply because of the person or people in them: blacks, Indigenous people's, the poor and homeless, prostitutes and hookers alike, and so many more; and each time I have seen him crack these cases himself and with help from myself and the rest of the team. I've watched this man so many people call cold smile and comfort those that don't have it, and have witnessed him be blamed for things outside of his control and also comforted by those who were simply grateful for his help. I have watched him make mistakes...yes, plenty of them, but I have also witnessed his wisdom to correct them, and if that is the man so many of you perceive as cold, then that is the man that I aspire to be."
Robin looks back at Batman, who is frozen in place next to Superman and Wonder Woman, but it's Damian that gazes up at him admirably.
"This is the man that's seen me in many different phases, and who brought me fries and a milkshake one random night. And this man- Damian stands tall as he smiles up at the reporter and says-"this is the man that I call father. He is my favorite." Everyone goes silent before chaose erupts, cameras flashing and reporters pushing in to ask what does Robin mean, when they all are forced to step back because Batman steps forward to pick his partner, son and friend up into his arms.
That's all that's said before Batman shoots a grappling hook onto the Batplane and disappears from sight, everyone still reeling from the news when Green Lantern (Hal Jordan)-mouth wide open in shock-turns towards the two supers of The Trinity and with all the offense in his voice asks.
"Did you two know about this and not tell anyone?"
Clark and Diana give one another a dubious look before politely smiling at the cameras and flying off the same direction Batman just went.
( @brucedefender4eva I know this is probably unexpected, uncalled for and unwanted XD, but I was struck with random inspiration. This didn't turn out how I was planning...there were going to be other Batkids involved and truth serum...but somehow we got this lol. You aren't obligated to read (no one is) this, but if you did, I really hope that you were able to enjoy it!
If anyone else has read this, thank you so very much! I know it's been awhile since anyone has gotten more than a silly post out of me, but I hope this little story was able to be enjoyed? I had to fight the urge to not make this omegaverse because at this point, that's what I'm used to writing for, so I hope it isn't awkward or anything? As usual though, my Bruce is probably ooc? But it's to be expected when I write him lol, cause I support a healthy Batfam, and so should you!
Anyways, please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. ๐)