Bruce had heard music coming from the studio earlier in the day. They had converted what his mother had always called “The Music Room,” laying down marley flooring, lining the walls with mirrors and barres. All for Cass.
The sun was setting and the house was quiet now: Alfred hadn’t returned from his errands yet and the winter day was quickly coming to a close.
Heading to his study, Bruce passed the studio and was surprised to see Cassandra lying on the floor. The lights weren’t on and the weak remaining sunlight left the room dim. He could hear the white noise of the stereo system, on but not playing anything.
“Cassandra?” he asked, confused, stepping onto the springy floor.
She was lying on her back, her legs stretched out long, with her arms crossed over her eyes and forehead. Her long-sleeved leotard and legwarmers couldn’t be much protection against the chill if she’d been still for very long. Cassandra didn’t move to acknowledge him; he only saw her throat work as she swallowed.
Bruce crossed the floor in a few strides, only to stop short at the sight of her feet.
He opened his mouth to ask one of many questions, but said instead:
“Cass, you’ve bled through your shoes.”
She went through pointe shoes fairly quickly, they lasted several months depending on how many classes in a week she could attend. But this pairs’ usual wear, grey scuffs on the washed-out peach satin, was eclipsed by the dull brown patches of blood that had appeared in different spots on the toe of each shoe.
Bruce sat by her feet and watched her face for any signs of distress as he gently picked up the leg nearest to him. When she didn’t react, he prodded the ends of the laces out from their bundle on the inside of her ankle and began picking at the knot beneath it. Unwinding the laces revealed deep indentations. She didn’t move or make a sound as he carefully pulled the fitted shoe from her foot and began peeling sticky gel pads, and lambswool, and finally her convertible tights, back from the raw and bloody flesh of her toes.
It made him think of Cinderella’s stepsisters, the old versions, mutilated by their mother in an attempt to fit the slipper and win a throne.
He held her foot in his lap, lightly chafing the angry red marks left on her clammy skin by the laces and elastic band. Not rubbing hard or touching the open wounds. He could feel the barest tremor of her muscles that meant she was exhausted.
“Last night was hard,”
With her arms still crossed over her eyes, she spoke in a whisper.
Bruce hummed an acknowledgement and started on her other foot. Of all his children, Cass was the one he trusted most to patrol alone, though he didn’t like it. It meant he didn’t know when she had to see or do things that he would rather have shielded her from.
Finishing, he piled the bloody detritus of her shoes and padding to one side. As he gathered her up and stood, he felt more than heard a soft “oh!” escape her. He was glad she didn’t protest, even though his back did.
Carrying her to the door, he brushed a knuckle to the switch that cut power to the sound system.
“It helped,” she said from his shoulder.
“Dancing?”
“Not being a weapon, for a while.”
___
Also on AO3.
Tag: bruce wayne
Batman #23 (2017)
Bruce: “………………”
Swamp Thing: “………………”
Bruce: *take a sip of tea and clears his throat awkwardly*
Bruce: “So. I’ve heard the swamp’s lovely at this time of year…”
Jason “Grab the samples, grab the samples!” Todd
Stephanie “They’re in my purse already, shut up!” Brown
Bruce: We can afford those just FYI.
“Silence rich boy, and put some in your jacket pockets!”
Bruce wasn’t entirely sure how he’d found himself in this
situation. He was standing in Costco, staring at Jason and Stephanie as they
stole (for that was the only word he could come up with to describe the scene
before him) samples. Steph with her purse open wide, and Jason scooping still
hot chicken sliders into wax paper before tucking them into her bag.They’d made their rounds as they collected the groceries
Alfred had sent them for, trying everything once before moving on. Some of the
boxed foods even ended up in their cart, edamame chosen by Damian, fried tacos
for Steph, and some kind of instant coffee Jason swore Tim would love.When they’d circled back a second time Bruce had assumed it
was because one of his kids had forgotten something they actually wanted. That’s
when his two supposedly responsible (and well fed) wards started stuffing their
pockets.He cleared his throat, “You do know we can just buy a
package, right?”Jason had moved down the line to the pot sticker samples
Bruce had favored fifteen minutes earlier. He glanced up at Bruce and rolled
his eyes. From behind him Steph shoved him forward, towards the table and his second
eldest.“Hush rich boy and open your pockets.”
Caught by surprise, Bruce found himself opening up his
jacket for Jason to dump food into his inside pocket. He squirmed a bit, trying
to pull away from them without stepping on any toes or knocking the food all
over the place.“Careful when you walk so you don’t break anything open.”
Jason grinned at him before holding up a hand for a high five.Bruce gave it to him, still a bit stunned by the events
taking place around him. Jason’s grin widened before he turned and strolled
further down the aisle towards another table empty of employee but filled with
still steaming food.Where was everyone? Minutes ago Bruce hadn’t been able to
walk without stepping over red vested people. Now everywhere he looked there
were only shoppers, not a single helpful employee in sight.Bruce’s heart jumped not quite to double, but close enough
as he realized that Damian was nowhere to be seen. He’d been by his side the
entire trip, even allowing Bruce to hold his hand when they ran into
overexcited people, eager to meet The Bruce Wayne and doubly eager to pinch the
cheeks of the ten year old by his side.“Where’s Dam—” the words broke as a laugh broke through the
90s rock playing overhead.Bruce swiveled his head to see a cart hurtling towards them,
empty of anything but his youngest. Damian’s face was light with a wild grin as
he blew past Bruce, Jason, and Steph. Behind him came a stampede of red,
employees chasing breathlessly after the kid.From his side, Bruce heard Jason whistle. “Remind me to get
the kid double what I promised him.”“Promised him?” Bruce turned on Jason and Steph, unsurprised
to find Steph in the middle of eating one of the sliders from her purse.Jason’s expression read ‘oh crap’ and Steph shrugged, still
chewing. Bruce ran a hand through his hair.“This is why Alfred doesn’t take you to the store anymore,
you know that right?” he said instead of a reprimand. Maybe this wouldn’t fall
on deaf ears.“And it’s why he sent you. Though heaven knows why he
thought you could stop it.” Steph grinned.“He didn’t. He just knew B would bail us out when we got
caught.” Jason picked up the remaining tray of pot stickers and eyed it, like
he was trying to decide if they had room for the rest or not.They were both right, and Bruce hated them a bit for it, but
it was tempered by the image of Damian racing past them on the cart, and the
bright sound of his laughter as he caused chaos. What would it take to get a
copy of today’s footage? He was sure Costco didn’t have any kind of real security,
which made getting a copy of Damian’s smile and Jason’s high five easy. Maybe
he’d take his kids shopping more often.“Flood in the seafood section and all employees be on the
lookout for a boy carrying a bag of live crawfish.”Then again, maybe he’d just ground them all for the rest of
their lives.
Jason Todd Has a Terrible Sense of Humour
So, during my nightly saunter through Tumblr, I found @sohotthateveryonedied‘s post about Jason Todd’s Joke and I just HAD to record it.
It was just too amazing to leave alone.
It’s exam week and I am tired. Instead of coherent content, please enjoy this list of random dialogue that I currently have no context for:
Damian listened thoughtfully until Tim got to the end. “So basically we need your help. Any questions?”
“Yes,” Damian decided, after a few seconds of silence.
“Shoot.”
“When did I give you the impression that I cared?”
“Oh come on.”
“What was my mistake?”
“We’re on a timeline here.”
“No, really,” Damian asked, raising his hands in an exaggerated gesture of confusion. “Where did I go wrong?”
“I’m confused,” Duke told him. “Red Hood Jason or Trophy Case Jason?”
For some reason, Tim didn’t seem to understand the question. He pointed across the cave, to where Hood was sorting through medical supplies. “Jason.”
“So not the Robin that died.”
Tim pointed again, slower this time. “Jason.”
“That’s… the same person?”
“Yeah.”
“He didn’t actually die?”
“Oh boy,” said Tim, biting at his lip. “No, he was definitely dead.”
“Was?”
“Short-term. You really didn’t know?”
“It’s not an uncommon name?” Duke could hear the panic in his own voice, but he didn’t feel inclined to check it. “Why would I assume that one person… came back from the dead?? Instead of assuming there are two people named Jason?”
“Oh boy,” Tim repeated. He turned to Damian, who Duke suddenly noticed was smiling in a very unsettling sort of way. “You didn’t tell him?”
Damian shook his head. The smile became downright maniacal.
“Tell me what??”
“It’s a family meeting,” Dick told him. “You have to stay.”
Jason collapsed back into his armchair, glaring. “You know sometimes I think I never actually came back to life? I just died and went to hell.” He crossed his arms. “Because honestly? This could be hell.”
“Stop being dramatic.”
Jason threw him a look that clearly communicated ‘when hell freezes over’ in the most dramatic way possible, or at least that was the goal.
Dick turned away, rolling his eyes. He seemed to get the message. There, Jason thought. Nailed it. He felt better.
“What’s the holdup?” Tim asked, settling onto the couch next to Cass. “Something wrong?”
Dick shrugged. “Bruce says he has an announcement.”
“We have a new sibling?” Tim guessed.
“What? No.” Dick frowned, probably running the odds just to be sure. “Not that I’m aware of, anyway.”
“You had to think about it,” Tim noted, and then turned to face the door as Bruce finally made his entrance.
“I have an announcement.”
“We have a new sibling?”
“What?” Bruce asked. “No.” His eyes flicked upward for half a second, and then he continued, decisive. “No, you don’t.”
“See?” Tim asked. “He had to think about it.”
“I thought you were against this plan,” Duke said.
Damian nodded. “I am, but Todd and I reached an agreement.”
“Yeah?”
“Simple bet,” Damian confirmed. “If it works, I have to go to Drake’s birthday party, but if Todd dies again, I get to put ‘Damian told him so’ on his new headstone.”
“Oh,” Duke told him. “That sounds… fair.”
Damian leaned back against the wall, smirking. “I like my chances.”
[scene break]
At that point, Duke became pretty sure that the plan wasn’t going to work. He looked from Jason, up on the rooftop, to Damian, who was calmly punching numbers into his phone. “Uh. Shouldn’t we go help him?”
Damian raised a finger in a give-me-a-second kind of gesture while he put his phone to his ear. “Hello, Elliot Funeral Home? How much do you charge for gravestones? Midrange. I see. Very reasonable.”
“Damian!”
“Fine,” Damian sighed. “Thank you,” he told his phone. “I’ll be in touch.”
There most be some fangirls in Gotham ship Bruce Wayne/Batman.
I’m imagining the fanfic, and it is filling me with glee! “The billionaire playboy shrank back a little from the vigilante. ‘W-what are you doing?’ He couldn’t help noticing his heartbeat had picked up. Batman looked back at him, his gaze expressionless. ‘I’m here to save your life, Mr. Wayne.’”
Bruce probably started the trend.
“Where did this ship even COME FROM?”
“IDK, someone wrote a really popular fic about it two years ago and everyone got on board.”
“Yeah, wasn’t his username grandfatherclock or something like that…”
No, see, this is brilliant because it actually works, because their “personalities” are so opposite that this ship would really appeal. “You need to lighten up, Batman.” “You need to take things more seriously, Mr Wayne.” “When was the last time you had any fun?” “When was the last time you did anything else?”
3hr long arguments about whether the best way to reform Gotham is through the Wayne Foundation charities and rebuilding initiatives or taking down the mobs and crime families that secretly run the city.
At the end, Bruce uses his rich-boy skills to take down a few henchmen – “What, you think I’ve never swung a golf club before?” – and Batman lets himself reluctantly be convinced to go out for ice cream.
(They’ve headcanoned Batman as blond to fit the necessary slash pairing requirements)
The comments are all, “OMG, have you ever noticed how Batman always intervenes when something shady goes down with the Wayne Foundation? I mean, not that it’s like, out of character, foil Penguin’s plot to block a low-income housing proposal so he can put up another casino there, or whatever, he does that for everyone, but have you noticed that he’s involved every time it’s Wayne Foundation? OMG THEY ARE DATING IN REAL LIFE THIS IS TOTALLY CANON!”
It’s the most popular Real Person ship in Gotham.
(Robin: “You know like, half the internet is shipping you with yourself.” Bruce: “I am large, Tim. I contain multitudes.” smirk.)
au where under various changed circumstances jason decides to emulate his hero tom sawyer and return to life in the middle of his own funeral, so he does so and bruce leaps to his feet and crushes him in a bear hug and tim who was attending out of respect is all fanboying and jason doesn’t hate him and try to kill him and jason is like ‘hey bruce why the joker still alive tho’ and bruce is like ‘well son i had crippling depression following your death and broke my hand punching superman so ya know *finger guns*’ and jason goes ‘oh that makes sense’ and alfred takes a buffalo rifle and shoots the joker and they all live happily ever after
Alright then. Alright. I see you Jason’s go packs and raise you Bruce finding one of those bags. Because I’m sure that would be fine – the PTSD poster boy, whose first son probably only just left recently, and now his new son is already getting ready to leave him. I’m sure that would go over great, definitely no painful repercussions there ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
Ok so, rude, but adding to the pain.
Bruce is very upset by the thought of Jay leaving, he thinks it’s something he did to make the boy feel unhappy and unwelcome (After all, his relationship with Dick, the most friendly tolerable person ever has soured, why wouldn’t Jay leave him too?) So Bruce begins working extra hard to try and win Jay over to stop (yet another) family member leave him alone in that cold, empty Manor.
Bruce being that awkward overeager dad, constantly sneaking Jay treats or bringing him to work with him and sitting down and helping Jay with his lessons. And Jay is just so overwhelmed by this show of love it just makes him all the more upset because he knows it won’t last and it’s going to be so hard to move on after all this love. Bruce picks up on Jay’s distressed teary eyes when he tries to bond and it just hurts him so much because he doesn’t know what to do to make his kid happy. But that’s the problem, he’s making Jay too happy and comfortable that he doesn’t feel he’ll be able to leave when he needs to.
How dare you.
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