EXTRA

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Selina and Bruce were sitting on the Wayne Manor entrance stairs. The two watched the "children" playing while Alfred served them with lemonade.

— If someone said five years ago that now I would be sitting next to a billionaire, drinking a cold lemonade while I watch my stepsons playing in the garden... — She had to pause to smile, almost a silent laugh as she watched Dick and Jason tossing his younger brother to each other, laughing — ... I wouldn't believe it.

— If someone told me, five years ago, that I would still be alive... — Bruce smiled, putting an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders — I would start doubting right away

— It's not like you're at your best, Master Bruce — Alfred commented, sighing heavily afterwards. It took a lot of work to convince him to sleep for a few hours.

— About you being out of shape... — Selina looked at him a little more seriously — ... You don't intend to go out tonight, do you?

— We already talked about it...

— No, we didn't talk.

— Cat... — He hugged her a little more — I know they kept everything in order, but Gotham needs Batman.

— And Damian needs his father! — She looked at him. He expected some kind of convincing answer, even some delusion that would justify that desire to have two lives all the time, but he got only silence. This silence lasted only a few seconds, as Alfred thought it was a good time to meddle in that conversation:

— I hope you keep your promises, Master Bruce...

— Promises?

— I swore that if Damian got out of that coma, I would become a good father. I'm trying, but it's difficult, especially with him so... — Wayne lost his words while looking at his son. Damian had fun with his brothers, he laughed like never before... he trusted being played from one to another, he trusted his brothers — ... so...

— Oh, Bruce... You won't give up, will you? — Selina changed her features from irritation to concern — You are doing well, you just need to continue.

— He lost confidence in me, cat. He trusts Dick, Jason... not me. I don't want to make it worse, at least how Batman can protect him.

— If anything, Master Damian has also avoided talking to me. I don't think he's lost his confidence, he's just hurt — The butler sighed, felt partly guilty — Every child acts like that...

— I failed as a father again, if I fail as Batman too... — Bruce stared at the ground, didn't want to think of some insane villain doing anything to threaten Damian, didn't want to think of what he would be able to do if that happened.

— Bruce... — The cat made him look at her — Batman is also Damian's father — He smiled — You have a double life, but your son doesn't have anymore... — She looked away at the children — ... spend more time with him, it's the best you can do now.

Fact.

As there is no fight against facts, the three remained silent and were content to observe the children playing. The evening only left that relaxed family moment with a film face: the twilight painting everything orange, the silhouette of the three going from side to side, laughing, with the dogs running and jumping...

Bruce just wanted to observe and absorb that kind of experience to the fullest: for perhaps the first time, he was feeling full joy that his children were happy. There were no Gotham problems, the Wayne Companies charges, the unresolved issues; there was only a good, warm and serene feeling that made his heart — which for the last few days had only been suffering — relax and enjoy the tranquility.

Selina was also taking advantage of that, daring to think that she was not just there as a cat, but as a member of that family.

— What is that in those bushes further north? — Pennywort asked, but he was far from looking worried. My eyesight was simply impaired by tiredness.

— It must be just a squirrel... — Selina said quietly, she didn't want to give too much importance.

— No, it's not a squirrel — Bruce said as he separated from his girlfriend — It's getting late! — warned his children to come in.

He waited until the whining and complaints about the end of the fun were over before going to see what was hiding in the garden — when everyone was already safe and sound inside the mansion.

He could be more inattentive than he used to be, which didn't change his natural detective essence. Such a detective who already had a suspicion in mind: Talia — who as a maternal instinct had a kind of obsession with her son and perfection. She had been gone since the day she saw Damian's "certain death" state — everyone suspected she was involved, that she hurt him again, but Bruce knew that not... despite all the defects, she takes on what she does.

Like a billionaire with nothing to do, Bruce took Titus and Ace's collars and let himself be guided by the scent of animals that seemed as curious as he was to know what was hidden in the bushes.

As they approached, the animals growled and looked more uncomfortable. The "squirrel" seemed to have realized that chase and tried to run away by stepping on a branch or another... it was a rude mistake: the dogs practically detached themselves and ran after the prey, barking, making a big deal for the owner to go after him.

— Who's there!? — He asked, already knowing it was not his suspicion. Whoever he was, he was inexperienced in espionage. The dogs continued to bark, impatient, they had probably cornered the "squirrel" — I'll just ask again: who's there!? — Bruce said in a more serious tone, getting into the tall bushes, he could already see the dogs.

When he finally reached them, he came across something completely unexpected: Jon, Jonathan Kent, was trapped between dogs and a tree; he held the edge of the red cloak trying to hide from the animals, as if he were going to be invisible at any moment — he had leaves and small branches stuck in his hair.

— ... Stop! — Bruce sent and his pets obeyed, moving away from the child — Jon, what are you doing here? And why were you trying to hide?

— I-I... — he whispered, without taking his eyes off Titus and Ace — I wanted to know how Dami is — Finally released the cover, staring at his feet — You disappeared from that place and my mother doesn't want to tell me anything, then...

— You came to find out for yourself — he added.

— Yep... — Jon looked at him with red cheeks in shame — Are you going to tell my father?

— I don't need to — He lifted his shoulders, crossing his arms before continuing: — Jon, I don't want you to leave my son... — He paused and tried to find the right words to use with a child — ... but you need to understand that you cannot appear in front of him flying, as you did the other time. Not even following him around, because it will end up scaring him again.

— I didn't mean it... — With tears in his eyes, the little boy looked at his feet again.

— I know not — Bruce sighed, clasped his temples and tried to think of some reasonable way to resolve it — ... What do you think of coming here another day, playing with him?

— I can go get my things in a minute! — Superboy smiled, looked refreshed — Finally we are going to finish the video game and I can bring my homework too for him to help me and...! — He started to shoot, counting on his fingers all the things he hoped so eager to be able to do when his friend got better, woke up.

— Jon... — Bruce called him in a more serious tone — It will be another day, when Damian is better. And you need to understand that he lost his memory, so maybe he doesn't want to do all the things that he did before...

— Yeah, I know... — the boy said dejectedly, then smiling again and saying: — But I saw him playing video games and I bet I'll be able to beat him and...!

To the terror of little Super, he was unable to recap the whole list of fun things he was going to do with Damian — who now would finally agree to do fun things before his duties. A harsh yet docile voice interrupted him, a voice he knew perfectly well:

— How long have you been spying on the Wayne, Jonathan Kent? — Superman asked. He slowly lowered the flight, stopping beside Bruce and facing his son.

— ... J-Just... I-I... — The little one looked at his shoes again, trying to think about how to get out of that situation. Any delinquent's nightmare would be to face Batman and Superman, but Jon was even more afraid: — Dad, don't tell Mom! Please!

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NOTE

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It looks like we have a stalker, doesn't it?

I have nothing to put in these notes, so I will put the comment that my friend (practically the co-author of this fanfic) made: "Jon is already thinking that his mother will wait for him with a hammer in one hand and the PS5 in the other".

I think she would do that, but I don't believe Clark will deliver his son like that...