The Birds Who Smile, a Batman fanfic by Raberba girl

Chapter 9.4 (rough draft 2)

As soon as Bruce and Damian had left the room, Stephanie clapped her hands. "Okay, kiddos!"

"Whatever you're about to do, do it later," Tim cut in. "John's barely eaten anything."

"What?!" Stephanie looked down at John, who gave her an 'I'm cute, so don't be mad at me' smile that was pure Dick Grayson (plus fangs). "What do you think this sweet spread is for?! Sit your butt down in that chair, young man, and eat your dinner!"

"I'll show you how the feeding thing works," Tim offered.

"Oh, good. Bruce made it sound more complicated than it probably is."

"He did."

Jack, who'd already eaten enough and now had more interesting things to do, brought Munro Leaf's The Story of Ferdinand over to Duke. "Rrrea'dd, pllease."

"Okay. Just one, though; I'm not done eating, either." He opened the book. "'Once upon a time in Spain there was a little bull and his name was Ferdinand'..."

Meanwhile, Stephanie, who wasn't completely fluent in ASL but knew enough to get by, had pretty much gotten the hang of the feeding system. Unfortunately, signs for food items didn't often figure in the sort of ASL conversations she was used to having. "Uh...I got the 'please give me' part, but I don't know what he actually asked for."

"Grapes." Tim helpfully handed over the bowl. "Whoa, too much! Just give him, like, four. The point is for them to practice communication and not gobble the whole meal in three seconds, which means small portions at a time. It's okay if it takes a while."

"But I want to play with them, not sit at the dinner table all night!"

Tim held up his hands in a 'not gonna stop you' gesture.

"Okay, how 'bout this: I'll play Bruce's Feed The Birds game for fifteen minutes, then we'll finish up quick and go play for real. How's that sound, babies?"

"I want to eat and play," Peter agreed.

"My man~!"

"Please give me apple juice," John asked.

"What was-?"

"He wants more juice. Just a little bit - it's the same as with the food."

Once they were finished eating, Stephanie grabbed the rolling crate she'd packed with supplies and wheeled it along as she led the children to a corridor. The boys watched curiously as she created a hopscotch grid with masking tape. When she finished, she straightened back up with a flourish. "Okay, so! The way you play is like this." She demonstrated. "One foot in the single squares, both feet in the doubles."

The boys shifted and chirred, their expressions mixed.

"You wanna try first, baby Dickie?" she asked, since he looked the most eager. "Here, I'll help you."

All three of them had trouble at first, since the motions were almost painfully different than the way they were accustomed to moving. Predictably, Dick Grayson's counterpart was the first one to successfully navigate the grid without help, and Peter plowed after him, determined to prove he could do anything his big brother could do.

"I don't like it," Jack pouted.

"Aww, Jackie! What if I give you a treat at the end?" She opened a pack of mini cookies and held one up.

Jack's eyes gleamed, and Peter shrieked with great interest. Jack looked down at the grid and studied it for a minute. He crouched slightly, spreading his arms wide. Then he hopped into the first square, started to wobble, and cawed angrily.

"Quick, Jackie, quick, go fast so you won't have time to fall!"

Hop, hop, hop. He rested on the first set of doubles, panting a little.

"Awesome, Jackie! Halfway there, you can do it!"

Hop, hop. "crow" he said determinedly. Hop, hop, and then he fell into Stephanie's arms at the end.

"YAAAAYYYY!" she cheered. He screwed up his face and covered his ears. "GOOD JOB, JACKIE, I'M SO PROUD OF YOU! HERE'S YOUR COOKIE!"

"MME!" Peter shouted, and dove into the grid to earn a cookie, too.

They played until the boys started getting a little rowdy and Duke passed by the end of the hall, paused, and backtracked. "Are you giving them cookies?"

"They can play hopscotch now, Duke!"

"Man, they already had dessert! You really want to deal with three monsterbirds on a sugar high?"

"Hmmmm."

"There's a treat stash for them in the pantry, crackers and fruit and stuff. I'll get you a bag."

"Thanks, Duke!"

John's and Peter's competitiveness was starting to get violent, and Jack had taken to sneaking cookies he hadn't earned. By the time Duke came back with healthier snacks, the children were shrieking in protest as Stephanie pulled the tape off the floor.

"No more hopscotch, 'cuuuuz you guys aren't listening to me anymore! I got a better idea, okay?" Seeking a quieter activity to calm them down, she got Alfred to find them some poster board, and set a sheet in front of each child. "We're gonna make collages! I brought magazines, see? You can look through the magazines, and tell me which pictures you want and I'll cut them out for you, then we'll glue them on your posters."

She demonstrated on her own poster, cutting out a picture of one of her favorite actresses and gluing it down to start her collage. "See? Now it's Johnny's turn!"

They didn't seem to know what they were doing at first, but slowly got the hang of it, at which point they became enthusiastic about hunting for pictures that appealed to them. John, in addition to choosing almost every picture of a happy person that he saw (with all the red-haired ones clustered together in a place of prominence), picked out some elephants and other exotic animals from a National Geographic magazine. Peter's collage had lots of pictures of food; also a screenshot of an explosion from a review of an action movie, and an ad that featured a mother lovingly cradling her baby. Jack chose a toy robot and a city skyline, then tugged on Stephanie's sleeve to show her what he wanted on his collage more than magazine pictures.

"Awwww, you have your own phone? That's so cute!" Then she paid attention to what was actually on the screen, which was a closeup of John and Peter as they slept. "So CUTE!"

"Gg'lllue." He set the phone on the poster.

"Ohhh, you want that picture on your collage?"

"Yysss."

Stephanie bounced to her feet. "DUUUUKE, HELP ME PRINT JACKIE'S PICTURES!" she hollered as she went in search of the other teen.

A few minutes later, Duke was going through Jack's phone in amazement. "When did you figure out how to use the camera? When did you take all these?!" There were tons of photographs, many blurred or too close up to be identifiable, though there was a noticeable progression of quality. A lot of them were of Jack's brothers (John was even posing in the most recent ones), book covers and pages, toys, Titus and Alfred, and random points of interest he'd found in the house or outdoors. A few were of Bruce as he slept, and distant shots of Alfred as he worked around the house; there were even a couple of Duke himself, both instances where his attention was elsewhere. "Geez, kid. These are kind of cool."

"Gg'lllue."

"Okay, okay. We can't print anything directly 'cause this phone isn't networked, so let me see if it's already got an SD card in it."

The rest of Jack's collage ended up being photos that he'd taken, all carefully grouped as if he valued organization over artistry. John and Peter had clamored for some of the photos, too, though they glued them onto their posters more haphazardly.

"Beauuuutiful," Stephanie cooed when they couldn't fit anymore pictures onto their collages. "Let's put them over here to dry, okay? Then you can show Daddy when he comes home from work!"

"Ddaddy?"

"Eeek, I forgot, don't talk about parents...! I meant Bruce! You can show Bruce when he comes home, he'll be so proud! I promise I'll make him actually tell you he's proud."

"Bbooss nno ddaddy," John insisted, though Jack repeated the word to himself thoughtfully, and Peter looked pensive.

"It's okay, he doesn't have to be. Hey, how about we give you cuties a makeover now?"

Most of the bathrooms in Wayne Manor were outlandishly big, so there was plenty of room in the nearest one for all three children, Stephanie, and her giant cosmetic bag. "Allll-righty! What should we do first?"

The kids were already poking through the various bottles, tubes, and brushes. John stroked a soft, poofy brush against his palm and then his cheek; Jack curiously clacked a claw clip open and shut. The days of signing and playing with toys had been gradually improving the children's manual dexterity.

"You like that clip, Jackie? It goes in your hair, like this." He wouldn't let her take the clip out of his hand, but he did sit still for her when she fetched out a cluster of tiny clips and did up his hair with them. He leaned to stare at himself in the mirror.

"Red, green, blue, purple," Peter was signing in between stacking up small bottles like Lego bricks.

"You want nail polish, Peter?" Stephanie offered. "You can pick whichever color you want! Oh, wait, but maybe I should take out the-"

To her surprise, Peter went straight for Rock the Runway red, despite her worry that the color might be triggering.

"Welp, if that's what you want! Hold still, sweetie."

He didn't like having his nails painted at all, but when he jerked back, he jostled her so that she accidentally painted a red stripe on his arm. John and Jack both whimpered in alarm at the blood-like streak on their brother's skin, but Peter looked fascinated, especially when he saw it reflected in the mirror. Watching his reflection intently, he stuck his other finger in the polish and smeared it further.

"It's supposed to go on your nails, goofy! Like mine."

Peter wasn't interested in her fabulous pink fingernails. He touched his Rock the Runway-stained fingertip to his cheek, then giggled at the print that was left behind.

"[caw], no blood, no blood!" John cried in distress.

"Not blood. Smells worse than blood. Looks good. I like it." He grabbed the little brush so he could paint streaks on his face.

"Uh...well, have at it, I guess...gosh, you guys really do sound like birds... So what about you guys? Which color do you want?"

"Doesn't hurt?" John asked his brother anxiously.

"Doesn't hurt. Fun."

John picked Loot the Booty blue.

"Ooohh, this one has sparkles in it! Nice!" Both John and Jack watched intently as Stephanie painted his nails and Peter continued going to town with Rock the Runway. "Aaaand done! Ack, don't touch, John! Don't move!" He stared at her in mild alarm, then curiosity when she blew gently across his nails to help dry them. "Hold your hands like this and don't touch anything, or the polish will smear. Jackie, which-? Don't touch! I'll tell you when the polish is dry, okay, John? Sorry, Jackie; which color do you want?"

Hesitantly, he pointed at Off Tropic green.

"You got it, babe!" However, like Peter, he jerked his hands away at the sensation of the brush. "Ack, Jackie, don't do that, it smears!"

He touched the blob of nail polish, then tried to rub it off his fingers, but it wouldn't come off. At the sticky feel of it, he started to whimper in distress and flap his hands as if trying to shake the polish off.

"Oh, honey, it's okay, it's okay! You don't like it? I'll get it off."

He held his hands out rigidly as if they were diseased, looking too frightened to move them to sign. "Sss'ccare! I ddoh't llah, llike it!"

"Okay, Jackie, I'm getting if off, I promise." But all three boys screamed and jerked away from her when she opened a bottle and they caught the strong scent of nail polish remover. "It's okay! I promise, it's okay, it's to get the nail polish off, Jack!"

"Burn! You burn us!"

"Burn? No, no, it doesn't hurt at all, see?" Loath to ruin her pink nails, which she'd just done yesterday, she swiped a bit of polish onto her arm and then rubbed it away with the remover. "See? I know it's stinky, but it doesn't hurt."

"Nno!" Jack screamed, starting to sob. John was now trying to shake the polish from his nails, too, looking panicked. Peter was clenching the tiny polish brush tightly in his hand as if he thought he could use it as a weapon.

"Okay, okay, let's not panic!" Stephanie said, panicking. "Duke! Alfred! Someone help!"

A few minutes later, Alfred was trying to calm the children as Duke and Stephanie feverishly looked up alternative methods for removing nail polish. "Oh, dude, you're not supposed to use nail polish remover on skin, anyway," Duke discovered. Then he laughed. "Apparently Peter's not the only kid who's painted his face with nail polish."

"Focus, Duke! We can't use remover anyway without them freaking out! AHAH, toothpaste, this site says you can get it off with toothpaste!"

"This one's saying olive oil, or vinegar," Duke said, scrolling.

"I will go fetch some straightaway," Alfred said. "Master Jack, if you will be so good as to transfer your hold to Master Duke here, I assure you I will be back very soon."

Jack buried his face in Duke's sweatshirt and cried. "Steph," Duke said, patting Jack soothingly and then ruffling John's hair when the older boy huddled close as well, "see if there's any rubbing alcohol in the cabinets, too."

"Okay! OOH, found the toothpaste. Jackie, come here, baby, come here!"

The toothpaste didn't work, and neither did the oil Alfred brought. The alcohol and vinegar, while not entirely effective, at least made a dent in the streaks on their skin, though the boys refused to let Stephanie come near them with the strong-smelling substances and only very nervously submitted to Alfred's and Duke's ministrations. Jack started to cry again as Duke scrubbed away, even when the teen tried to be gentler, and Peter only tolerated about half a minute of application before he jerked away from Alfred, screamed in displeasure, and hurled a bottle of lotion across the room. John was staring at his sparkly blue nails as if they were alien parasites.

"Maybe we can try the one where wet polish gets the dry polish off," Stephanie ventured, nearly in tears. Bruce had been so adamant that she not frighten his already traumatized little babies, yet here she was traumatizing the poor things, when all she'd wanted to do was make them happy. Wasting even more of her cosmetics seemed like a fair price to pay. "Jackie, will you let me try?" He buried his face in Duke's neck. "Oh nooo! Johnny, will you let me?"

He stared at her and said nothing, but didn't resist when she very gently took his hand and very gently dabbed some fresh polish onto a nail, held her breath in apprehension, and wiped it off with a paper towel. Both the new and older polish disappeared from John's fingernail like magic. "AAAHHH, Alfred, it works!"

John made a trilling sound. He let her work until she'd finished cleaning his left hand, but when she reached for his right, he tucked it protectively against his chest, backed away a couple of steps, then signed, "I keep! Shiny."

"You want to keep the polish on that hand?"

"Yes."

"Do you...want me to paint your other nails again?"

"No!"

O-okay, baby, okay, whatever you want!"

"Miss Stephanie, it's high time for the children to get ready for bed, and there's a good chance bathing will help with the...nail polish issues, in any case."

"Oooohhh, Bruce is going to be so mad at me for painting his baby birds!"

In the master bathroom, Alfred started covering the shower door with towels while Stephanie ran water in the bath. "Master Peter, I believe you ought to wash in the shower tonight rather than the tub." Peter had been quite thorough with Rock the Runway, and still had plenty of red polish on his face and hands.

"Rrrre-duh. Ii lllike," Peter asserted as he flung off his clothes.

"Preferably for things such as your clothing and artistic choices, young master," Alfred replied as he accepted the dirty clothes Jack was handing him through the slightly ajar shower door.

Stephanie helped John get his shirt off when it got stuck halfway. "Is the water too hot or too cold? Touch it first before you get in, I don't want to screw up again...!"

By the end of their baths, all the remnants of nail polish streaks on Jack had disappeared. Peter still had some, but the warm water and the scrubbing Alfred managed to do before he was rebuffed again had significantly improved the situation. Peter grinned into the mirror at what was left of Rock the Runway on his face as he brushed his teeth. "Mr. Baby Red Hood," Stephanie teased, poking at a bright red spot of lacquer on his forehead.

As Alfred tidied up the bathroom, Stephanie set up the boys' collages where they could easily see them from their nest, then crawled onto the mattress to cuddle with the children and read them their bedtime stories. First it was If You Give a Moose a Muffin, which they selected from the assortment of picture books she'd brought. Then she reached for the novel on the desk. "Okay, Bruce said he started reading Peter Pan to you guys." She opened to the marked page. "[*censored because FFN is stupid*]..."

"Book people," Jack told her at one point. "Different than us people. That Jjjohnthis Jjohn, that Ppe'tterthis Ppe'tter. Different."

"I didn't even notice that!" Stephanie laughed. "Yup, Peter Pan and Peter Wayne are different people, and John Darling and John Wayne." She chuckled again. "John Wayne's a cowboy or something, isn't he? And then there's Jack Frost, Jack Sparrow, Jack Skellington... You guys have lots of story people brothers, huh."

TBC

A/N: Nail polish credits to the Essie Web site. I know nothing about makeup; that was just the first site that came up when I did a search on "nail polish colors."