The Birds Who Smile, a Batman fanfic by Raberba girl

Chapter 15.2 (rough draft 2)

Bruce got back to sleep as well, but was woken again after midnight, this time by Dick shaking his shoulder. A worried-looking Duke was standing behind him. "What happened?" Bruce demanded.

Dick jerked his head at Jack in a 'don't wake him up' gesture. Bruce got out of bed, picked up his phone, and led the way into the bathroom, where he shut the door and turned on the light.

"The birds are missing," Dick said. "I looked in on the kids when I came back from patrol, but they're not in their room."

"They were there when I went to bed," Duke said, his voice tight with anxiety. "They snuck off while I was asleep."

Bruce was already tapping to access his tracker program. "What were they doing when you went to bed? Were they sleeping?"

"Peter was. John was awake, but he seemed fine, not upset or anything. He was just sitting there."

Duke was smart, but he hadn't spent as much time with the children as Bruce and Dick had, he might not have been paying close attention to the birds' tiny tells and nuances of expression or body language, and he didn't have the insider's perspective that Dick did of his alternate self. 'My fault,' Bruce thought, 'my fault, I should have left Jack with Duke and taken the older boys with me-'

Bruce stared at the screen. According to his phone, John's and Peter's trackers were very close, in Bruce's bedroom.

Dick threw a sharp look at the closed bathroom door. There was only silence from the other side of it, but-

Bruce thrust open the door and then panicked for a moment when he saw the bed empty and the sheets rumpled as if from a struggle. Surely someone couldn't have broken in and kidnapped his son in such a short time, with no sound; had the Owls-?!

Dick, diving around to look on the other side of the bed, practically shrieked in horror, "STOP!"

Bruce was at his side in an instant and caught a glimpse of the older birds before they fled. They had their younger brother trapped on the floor again, this time with Peter pressing both his hands over Jack's mouth. John had a hand and a knee pinning the smaller child's arms and was digging the fingernails of his free hand into Jack's throat. Jack's eyes were wide with terror and streaming tears as his captors whispered fiercely to him.

When they ran, Dick went after them, and Bruce went straight for Jack. "Turn on the light," he thundered at Duke as he gathered the little boy into his arms, then, distractedly, "Sorry." Duke, who was hurrying to obey, had done nothing to deserve getting yelled at.

Jack was so upset that he couldn't speak, either out loud or silently. The marks from John's fingertips were a little red, but hopefully wouldn't bruise. Jack clung to his father, shaking and choking out sobs, and Bruce wished that there were bad guys to punch.

Dick caught up with the boys in their room, where Peter clawed at the window as if trying to get out, and John whirled to face his older counterpart and sign furiously. "You Bad Laugh [chirp-chirp], yes? Laugh you hurt us tie us, you and Bat, you love him you break us you eat us-"

Dick, trying not to let his own fury overtake him, replied mostly in sign language. "Why do you think that, what did I do? I'm ANGRY that you say I'm like Bad Laugh Man!"

"Him, us, you love HIM, not us!" Tears of rage were starting to spill down John's cheeks.

"I can love both! Both, BOTH! You attack someone I love, you rip my heart, too, you brat I'm so ANGRY at you!"

John's rage turned icy. "Bat yours, you love Bat you keep him; baby OURS, give him to us we leave we free!"

"You are free!" Dick cried out loud. "Dammit, why can't I make you understand that?! You are fucking safe here, Dick, all three of you, the fucker who hurt you is dead, Bruce would never treat you like he did! He loves you. Bruce fu- freaking loves you just as much as Mom and Dad did."

Dick was crying by now. Peter had hidden and was watching the confrontation warily; John was unmoved. "Bruce is my dad now. He's yours, too; God..." He drew in a shaky breath, trying to calm himself. "Whatever; screw me and screw Bruce. What the frick are you and Peter doing to Jack? He's a fricking baby. If you touch him like that again, Bruce won't hit you but I might; dammit, John!"

"...That Bat say 'Good me good me,' I say 'Yes maybe?' He hurt me. Rip me, I die; he's not good he's BAD. This Bat say 'Good me good me,' me Fight Brother say no, we smart, we safe - Trick Brother say 'Yes I love you,' STUPID; Bat hurt him rip him."

Dick wanted to tear out his hair in frustration. John was clearly never going to take people's word about Bruce again, so he'd have to try a different tack. "You want to protect Jack? You want to keep him safe?"

"Yes!"

"Well, you're failing. You scared the hell out of him, so he doesn't want to be anywhere near you anymore. Let's say Bruce does go crazy and tries to hurt him - you think Jack's going to let you save him? You think Jack will let you get close enough to help? Or will he scream when he sees you, because now you scare him just as much as Laughs did?"

At last, John was staring to look uneasy, and Peter shuffled in his hiding spot.

"Do you two know what it's like to be held down so you can't move, and gagged so you can't speak or scream, and forced to do things you don't want to do-?"

"STOP!"

"You know how it feels. That's what you did to [warble]." He approximated the sound of Jack's bird name as best he could. "You made your baby brother feel the same way the Man Who Laughs made you feel. You're no better than your abuser."

Horror was dawning on John's face, and Peter cried out.

"Don't go hug him," Dick said quickly. "Jack's afraid of you now. If you come running at him, he'll think you're attacking him again. You have to be freaking gentle with him!"

John started clawing at his own scalp.

"Johnny...stop, stop, it's not your fault." The anger drained away and Dick struggled to stop John from hurting himself. "You didn't realize, I know you love Jack, he'll forgive you. Johnny, stop that. Look at me. It's okay."

John's face was anguished, tears leaking out of his eyes. "Hit me."

"N-" Except Dick knew the feeling. He needed to be punished in a way he understood, or the guilt would eat him alive.

He considered a moment, then reached out with just enough force to be rough without causing pain or harm. He dragged John to the floor and pinned him like John himself had done to Jack, fingertips lightly pressing into the underside of his jaw to emphasize the vulnerability. Dick was fully prepared to rock back if necessary and apologize if he'd miscalculated, but John's only reaction was to close his eyes in submission.

"Hurting family is wrong. We do not hurt people weaker than us, do you understand?"

"Yes yes yes," John crooned in bird language, relaxing, tears still spilling from his eyes.

"Are you going to hurt our little brother again?"

"No...no...!"

"I don't know bird words, Johnny. Look at me." He shifted so that his hands were braced on the floor instead, and John cautiously cracked open his eyes. "Your brothers gave you a sign name that means 'Protector,' because they trust you. And you're not going to let them down again, right? Hurting and scaring Jack won't protect him."

John slowly raised his hands to sign. "I love Trick Brother. I pet him gentle, no hurt."

"Good." He reached to wipe the tears from the boy's face, and John hurriedly sat up. They looked at each other for a long moment.

"...You hate me?"

"No, no no no of course not," Dick murmured, pulling John into his arms for a hug. "You're my baby brother. You're the one I'd do anything to protect."

"...Big brother protect baby, baby protect more little baby..."

"You got it," Dick murmured, kissing the side of his head. After a moment, he looked over at Peter, who hissed and backed a step toward the toy box he'd been hiding behind. He clearly did not want to be pinned and scolded. "Pete, are you going to be super-nice and sweet to Jack now, or do we still have a problem?"

"Don't touch me!"

"I won't hurt you. Are you going to hurt Jackie?"

"...Bad Laugh Me."

"You're a good big brother, so I know you're not going to act like that anymore."

"No more!"

"Good."

"Don't hurt scare Trick Brother. I am not Bat!"

"Right. ...Also, Peter, I used some bad words a few minutes ago, and, um, that means I'm not going to get dessert. Don't use bad words like your dumb big brother, okay?"

"Bad words. Fffu-"

"If you say those words, Grandpa will be sad," Dick tried.

"...No sad Grandpa. Fffi'kk," Peter said instead, making Dick laugh.

"Oh, baby Jay..."

He took them both by the hand and led them back to the master suite, where Jack had recovered enough to tell Bruce and Duke how upset he was. When the three of them appeared in the doorway, Jack wailed and ducked behind Bruce, who pushed him over into Duke's arms before standing up thunderously.

"I took care of it," Dick said quickly, stepping forward and spreading his arms a little to shield the children behind him. "They know they were wrong, and they're going to be good now."

"[warble]," John quavered, "wrong me bad me punish me, you little protect I'm sorry, very much a lot sorry!"

"You hurt me mad at me!"

"No no no sorry sorry sorry!"

"I say good soft smile, you pin me bite me hurt me!"

"NO! I say good soft smile!"

"Liar!"

John rushed - at Bruce, to everyone's surprise; flung his arms around the man's neck, pressed his mouth to Bruce's hair in the same way the people here did to mean 'innocent affection,' gazed into his eyes and said, in a way that seemed like he meant something very different than his actual words, "Iii ll...llluubb Dd-" He had to sob before he could finish. "Ddddaddyy."

Bruce and Dick felt a chill at how much John was sacrificing to make amends with his little brother, and Duke was confused at the mixed signals, but Jack took it at face value.

"Daddy? Daddy? He Daddy not Master?"

"Yes, yes, [warble] very right, always right," John crooned.

Jack started to cry in relief. "[chirp-chirp] not mad at me not hurt me?"

"[warble] hurt me, yes?" John offered, now daring to creep toward his smallest brother.

Jack hurriedly reached toward him with his hands first, ready to push him away at the first sign of trouble, but John willingly lowered beneath the light pressure, curled up at the younger boy's side, and laid a hand over his knee that was protective and affectionate without being controlling. Jack hunched over him, clutching him. "My good thing," he whispered.

"Your good thing," John yielded, relishing his re-won physical proximity. So easy, now, if anything bad happened, to simply stretch out and shield the smaller body under his own, or to fight any danger before it could reach his treasure. No more fear or retreating or struggling, [warble] trusted him again. [big chirp-chirp] had been right. [warble] was still stupid, but safe now.

Peter, meanwhile, had started pacing restlessly, not looking at Jack as he mumbled in a mix of bird language and sign, "Angry and scared, sometimes birds do bad things, lots of Laughing and screaming and hurting, maybe big birds should not hurt little birds, this is bad, [big chirp-chirp] says things I don't like but baby is scared/mad I don't like that too, I will not punish baby anymore? [warble] is mad at me, I don't like it; [chirp-chirp] give himself to Bat, now I am all alone, I DO NOT give to Bat do not say I love you but I want [warble], he fly away from me but I want him here again..."

"Daddy is not Master?" [warble] ventured.

"MAYBE / MAYBE NOT, YOU DON'T TELL ME!" [caw] yelled.

"YOU DON'T TELL ME!" [warble] yelled back.

"Hush quiet safe peace," [chirp-chirp] crooned. " 'Daddy' yes, 'Daddy' no, me and [caw] gentle both."

"Yes," [caw] grumblingly agreed.

"[caw] pet me gentle?"

"Yes yes yes bad me!" [caw] sulked.

"[caw] hate me?"

"NO!"

"Why you angry!"

"ANGRY AT BAT NOT YOU!"

"...Oh."

[caw] whirled and bounded over to him, crying, and [warble] flinched but then relaxed when he was only hugged. "Mine," [caw] claimed him.

"Mine," [warble] claimed both his flockmates.

"Yes," [chirp-chirp] chirred, relieved.

There was a long, content silence. "Ssoooo," Duke finally said, watching the little cuddlefest, "it's over?"

"We'll take it from here," Bruce murmured. "You can go on back to bed."

"Okay. 'Night, everyone." Duke paused, looking at the clock. "Or...good morning, I guess." He left the room, and Dick groaned.

"Uuuuggghhh, I am so tired..."

"Where are you going to sleep?" Bruce asked.

Dick eyed the children, whom he still didn't quite trust even though they were being sweet again. "You know what, I think I'm going to sleep right here." He strode across the room and lay across the kids' mattress.

The birds stared at him, then scrambled off Bruce's bed and trotted to their nest. "Dd'kk hherre? Dd'kk hherre?"

"Our bed!"

"Yeah? Well, kick me out if you don't like it," Dick half-teased, having no intention of moving. After a moment, Peter flopped heavily on top of him. "Oof!"

"Okay," John decided, and snuggled along Dick's side.

Jack crouched down, considering. Then he trotted back over to the big bed and climbed up beside Bruce. His brothers called to him in distress, but he only hugged Bruce in defiance and challenge. After a long pause, John compromised - he crept across the floor and crouched at the foot of Bruce's bed. After a twittered exchange with Peter, all three children settled down, Jack with Bruce and Peter with Dick and John keeping watch.

Even though the others soon dropped off, Bruce was pretty sure he wasn't going to be able to sleep with John's eyes boring 'If you hurt my little brother I'll kill you' holes into him. He got up, fetched a spare blanket from his closet, and brought it over to John, who flinched away from him.

"It's all right." Moving slowly and carefully, he draped the blanket over the boy, who immediately shrugged it off with a defiant look. "That's fine, but it's there if you need it later." He moved a pillow down to John as well, then climbed back into bed beside Jack and was surprised, in looking back on it, that he eventually did fall asleep.

TBC