TRIPLE A and SURVIVING DAY BY DAY

this spiralled and is now a whole thing, but we ball:

But what if he, in his reincarnation, or whatever you'd call it, he was given one final blessing and allowed to return to when he last felt safe. Bruce, the ghost of his seven year old self, darting between the living world, and the afterlife, where Mama and Papa wait to clean up his cuts and praise him for still wanting to help people, their brave little boy.

He doesn't have his memories. But as he chases survivors across decimated battlegrounds, doing his best to make sure they survive this, he feels a distinct pull towards these people he sees fighting.

He's not sure why.

He's sat amidst the rubble, watching the 'heroes' regroup when one of them cautiously approaches him. She's beautiful, long black hair falling over a sooty forehead, but her smile, hesitant as it is, is radiant, and feels painful. Something deep in his soul drags towards her, but he doesn't understand the feeling, and allows his grasp on reality to slacken, falling back into the afterlife.

Mama cleans the dust off his arms with gentle hands, and explains he knew her, in his life. The one he doesn't remember. That they were really good friends, and that tug on his soul was probably a soul bond from their friendship.

Bruce admits he is scared of the feeling, and Mama kisses his head and promises that's okay.

The next battle, the woman stays away. She watches him from a distance, and he watches her back. Then a hand settles on his shoulder, and Bruce cries out at the same feeling yanking at his core. The man leaps back, horrified, apologies tripping from his lips, and Bruce quickly slips out of this plane of existence. He watches the man search for him, then slowly sink to his knees and begin to weep.

Papa tells him to give them a chance. That they love him a lot, and miss him.

Bruce doesn't want to be their friend. He just wants to help people.

But when he pulls a man out of the rubble, that same achingly familiar link thrums through him. This one has Papa's nose, like Bruce. He still doesn't like the feeling, that soulbond Mama described, but this one...he cannot bring himself to leave.

"Your son," comes a soft voice, and he turns.

The woman stands behind him, expression pained.

"Papa told me...I had a family. This is him?"

"One of them," the man confirms, walking up behind the woman. "Your youngest."

Bruce pokes his cheek. The man doesn't stir.

"He doesn't look happy."

"Grief does that to people."

"Me," he murmurs.

"Yes, Bruce."

It's the first time the man has used his name.

"You grieve me too."

The woman's shoulders briefly lift, then sink back down. "We grieve the man you were. You are not him, but you are very similar. It is an honour to meet you as you are now."

Bruce stares at her. Names swirl in his mind, half formed, barely-there whispers, fading voices, and he clings to any hope of remembering these people that always look so sad.

"Grief is not eternal," he says, quoting his mother.

The man reaches out, and gently grasps his shoulder, a slight exhale drifting out of his mouth when his palm makes contact. "No, B. But love is."

Bruce looks back down at the man slumped on the floor in front of him.

He lifts his head, and looks at the figures in the distance, calling names and aliases that brush the depths of Bruce's mind, the things he can't remember anymore.

His looks at his children off in the distance, and feels a sudden wetness in his eyes, feels fat, hot tears roll down his cheeks without permission.

"Take care of each other, Clark, Diana," he murmurs, standing.

Twin gasps sound at their names, but Bruce is already fading. "Take care of them too," he begs, and lets go of his tether.

He disappears from sight, and watches Dick crash to his knees next to Damian. "Come on, Robin, you gotta wake up. We can't lose you too, buddy."

Mama's warm touch presses an arm over his shoulders. "You're a good friend, sweetheart."

"And a good father," Papa adds, palm warm on Bruce's head.

He has paws glove like this🐾

His wings look like this