The Birds Who Smile, a Batman fanfic by Raberba girl
Chapter 11.1 (rough draft 2)
Joker had them, his children bound and helpless and screaming as the crowbar struck them again and again; their blood was streaming down to pool at his feet but he couldn't lift a finger to rescue them, he would break Joker's neck once he was free but by the time he escaped the leather straps it would be too late, they'd be dead, their cries were already growing fainter-
Bruce woke with a choked gasp, his skin clammy with sweat. Just a nightmare, just a nightmare, his children were alive and safe and fine, but he was still trapped in restraints-
Not tied down like he thought he was. He'd dreamed of being restrained because John was perched heavily on his chest; the other two children had spread out his arms and were sitting on them. "Seatbelts?" John and Peter were already demanding. "Seatbelts? Hurt us tie us? Bad!"
Bruce was still trying to recover from the nightmare. Jack reached to touch the tears on his face. "Ddaddy ssad?"
"Get off me," Bruce wheezed.
"SSEATTTBBE'TTT?" John demanded.
"Not right now. Breakfast first."
John leaned close to scrutinize him.
Bruce couldn't stand being held down a moment longer. He shifted, trying to dislodge the boys without hurting them. Jack soon tumbled aside, and when the older boys realized he was getting the upper hand, they fled to their nest.
Bruce ignored them, stalking into the bathroom. Then he wished he'd locked the door, because all three Robins came filing in and gathered around to stare. It was very disconcerting. "Don't watch people when they're using the toilet."
"Seatbelts?" John demanded again.
"Not NOW."
He had to shoo them out so he could take a quick shower in peace, but then he fretted the whole time about what they might be getting up to when left to their own devices. He'd been right to worry - when he opened the bathroom door afterward, he found Peter wasting his best cologne and Jack twittering bossily up at John, who was perched on top of the bed canopy so he could take pictures of the room with Jack's phone.
By the time Bruce had confiscated the cologne and gotten John down, both he and the child were covered with dust. Alfred did a good job cleaning the manor, but he was an extremely busy man and some things, like the top side of the bed canopy, just weren't worth being thorough about. "For God's sake..." And now Jack was screeching angrily about how blurry the new photos were. "Boys, stay put for ten minutes, and don't touch anything that isn't yours."
He pulled the frightened, resisting John into the bathroom to sponge the dust off of him, and the younger children hurried after. "Don't hurt Protect Brother!"
"I'm not hurting him," Bruce said in exasperation. "It's only water, look." He had to give wetted washcloths to both Peter and Jack for them to inspect before they let him wipe down John. Then all three children watched avidly as Bruce brushed his teeth and shaved and got dressed and combed his hair. When he was ready for the day, he exhaled deeply and turned to survey the boys, putting his hands on his hips.
They shifted uneasily. "...Seatbelts?"
"Not right now. Let's go to your room."
It took longer than usual to get them dressed and brushed. They were anxious and finicky and kept shying away from him. "Seatbelts?" they asked over and over again.
"Not right now," he answered over and over again, trying to keep his temper. "Breakfast first."
They galloped ahead of him to the kitchen, and Bruce entered the room to find them all pushing chairs right next to Dick's. Dick, munching on cereal as he worked on his tablet, tapped the screen a few more times and then raised his hand with a flourish. "Aaaand patrol report done! Morning, Bruce! Morning, baby birds~!"
"D'kk D'kk D'kk," Peter said, gripping two fistfuls of his big brother's tank top.
"He seatbelt no seatbelt help scared pull me water," John told Dick anxiously, as Jack announced to the room in general, "I hhungee!"
Bruce sat heavily in his chair with a groan. The day was already off to a bad start, and he was tired. "Good morning, Duke. Good morning, Alfred."
"Good morning, sir," Alfred called back from the stove.
Duke made an amiable gesture of acknowledgement. "'Sup, Bruce."
Bruce pulled the bowl of eggs off the warming pad it was sitting on. "Where's Tim?" he asked as he served himself.
"Still sleeping," Dick said.
"Good." At least one thing had gone right.
"Has he taken any days off since the Batpocalypse?"
"No."
"Holy workaholic, Batman. I'm glad Cass sent him home early last night." Dick and Bruce settled into the routine of feeding the children. After a few bites of dry cereal, however, John pushed his plate away and climbed into Dick's lap for an octopus hug. "Awww, Johnny. What's wrong?"
"He can eat later if he wants to," Bruce said. He sighed, then started speaking in Spanish. "Listen, Dick. We took a break yesterday because John's reaction was so extreme, but we're starting seatbelt training again today, and it's not going to be pleasant. Please keep your distance."
Dick frowned. "What do you mean, 'not pleasant'?" he asked, also in Spanish. The children stared at them curiously, cocking their heads at the sound of the unfamiliar language.
"The seatbelts remind them too much of whatever restraints they were subjected to during their captivity. Nothing I do or say convinces them that it's not harmful, so we're having to just power through." Bruce gave some eggs to Peter in response to the boy's request. "I don't care how much they scream or cry or beg, I don't want you rescuing them."
"Bruce..."
"It's not for long." He put part of a biscuit on Jack's plate. "I haven't even buckled them in yet, it's a struggle just to keep them in the car for one minute. As soon as they're finished, feel free to comfort them and vilify me as much as you want, but don't come near us until I give the word."
Dick silently tightened his embrace around John.
"I have to, Dick."
"What if...what if I try it? They trust me-"
"No." Bruce couldn't stand the thought of the children's betrayed faces, even in his imagination. "I need you to be their reward, and someone they can keep feeling completely safe with. I will not jeopardize that."
"Poor babies," Dick whispered in English, rocking John a little. "Poor baaabies..." He started to hum under his breath, and John relaxed a little.
Bruce waited for the right moment, when the children had calmed down slightly but before they were finished eating. "Dick," Bruce murmured, not looking at him and speaking Spanish again, "leave."
"Hmmm, I'm gonna go check on Timmy and Dami," Dick said casually. "Johnny, you want to try some of my cereal? There are marshmallow bits in it, you don't get marshmallows in your regular cereal." He poured some fresh Justice League Blasters into what was left of the milk in his bowl. He spoon-fed John a bite. The boy brightened a little and started fishing bits of cereal out of the bowl. Dick kissed the top of his head and went away.
Bruce waited a little longer, until John's cereal consumption had gone from eager to steady, and the other two boys were showing the first signs of restlessness. Bruce stood up.
"Seatbelts?" Peter asked instantly.
"Yes." He caught hold of Peter in time, but wasn't fast enough to catch John, who fled like a rabbit. Bruce hesitated, but he couldn't haul the screaming, struggling Peter around the mansion in order to retrieve John... He'd have to do this separately.
"I don't want to!" Jack signed, backing away.
"I know, Jack, but we have to." He reached for the boy's wrist and managed to get hold of it before Jack could run.
"Nnooo!" Jack wailed, dragging his feet as Bruce started pulling him toward the garage. "Nnnooo, Ddaddy, nnnoooo!"
"I'm sorry, Jack, but we have to."
Jack cried, tugging halfheartedly, but didn't fight much as Bruce locked them in the car with him. "Why you hurt us?!"
"I will not hurt you. The seatbelts are to keep you safe, not hurt you. When the timer goes off, you can have ice cream."
Jack stilled. "Ice cream?"
"Yes."
Peter raged in all three languages, pounding at the windows and lashing out at Bruce. At first he would immediately recoil, but when he saw that there was no retaliation, he started trying to hit Bruce with more determination.
"No. Do not hit." Bruce's arms were raised in defense, his eyes hard and challenging. Peter matched his look for a minute, then retreated, hissing.
A silence fell.
"...Ice cream?" Jack asked tremulously.
"When the timer goes off."
Jack drew up his legs and hugged his knees, his eyes fixed on the countdown. Peter was pressed into the corner farthest from Bruce, staring. "...[chirp-chirp]."
"I have to do this with him next. He ran away, but he still has to practice with seatbelts. He will do this when you are finished."
Peter crept over to Jack and clung to him. They stayed like that until the timer went off, then Bruce opened the door and they burst out, looking around wildly.
"Good job," Bruce said, picking up the cooler that Alfred had left for him. "You finished practicing with seatbelts for today, so here is your reward." He unwrapped a mini ice cream sandwich and held it out. The boys stared at it for a while. Then Jack cautiously took the treat and nibbled at it. He trilled in delight and chomped down the rest of it. Peter snatched his own reward out of Bruce's hand and stuffed it in his mouth.
"All right," Bruce said when they'd finished, "let's go find Dick."
"D'kk! D'kk!"
Dick was in the living room, reading something on his phone. He instantly stopped in order to hug the children when they threw themselves into his arms and started babbling at him about what they'd just endured.
Bruce didn't stay to listen, instead following John's tracker to the high shelf where he'd hidden. The boy screamed in terror when Bruce came for him. "John, I am not going to hurt you. Let's get this over with, and then you can have ice cream." John shrieked and struggled, but went still when Bruce got him into a firm hold. "Nnnooo," he begged as he was carried to the garage. "Nnnoo, ppees, nnoo, nnoo, nnoo...!"
"It will not hurt. It's only for one minute. It will not hurt."
In the car, the boy crawled into a corner and cried for the entire minute, long after the timer had gone off and Bruce had gotten out of the car. John finally lifted his anguished face and asked, "Why you hurt me?"
"Am I hurting you right now, John?"
The boy sniffled, then went quiet. Bruce stepped farther aside in an inviting way, but John simply stared at him, not moving. "John. We are finished for today. Come out so you can have your reward and play with Dick."
"...You tie me. You hurt me. You hate me."
"I did not hurt you. I do not hate you. I love you, and I want you to practice so you can be safe."
John finally emerged, slowly and stiffly, keeping his distance. Bruce showed him the cooler. "Now you can pick your reward. Would you like ice cream, chips, or something from the kitchen?" He didn't want the boy getting ill again; something less sweet might be easier on a stomach already unsettled by stress.
After a long moment, John silently pointed at the chips. Bruce opened the bag and handed it over, but John simply clutched it to his chest without eating anything. "Let's go find Dick."
Tears began to spill from the child's eyes again. "[big chirp-chirp]," he said in bird language, "[big chirp-chirp] loves me, protect me from Master."
They went to the living room, where Jack backed away and Peter hid behind a couch and John rushed to his older counterpart and latched on. Bruce picked up the bag of chips he'd dropped and handed it to Dick. "This is John's. Don't let the others have any. See if he'll take more breakfast, too; he's barely eaten anything." Then he went to go work in the Batcave, because he needed to be somewhere dark and cold and oppressive for a while.
He spent about an hour finishing one case and making progress on another, things he could do from a chair. Research, hacking, some lab work; sending a few messages and impersonating an assistant's boss in a text chat. Then a small commotion alerted him to the fact that he had company. He looked up to find Dick and Duke at the foot of the stairs, looking patient as the children hid behind them, clinging and staring fearfully out at Bruce.
"What?" Bruce snapped.
"See, this is what he does what he's upset," Dick told his siblings in a voice like a tour guide's. "Buries himself down in the cave to wallow in his own misery and convince himself he's the monster he feels like."
"I'm working." Bruce did not appreciate being outed in front of Duke, whose respect he'd been trying very hard to retain. He hadn't made so many mistakes with his newest protégé as he had with the others, and it would be nice to be able to live up to one child's expectations, at least.
John whimpered something into Dick's back. "Aww," Dick replied, "Bruce isn't scary. Come here, let me show you." He tried to move toward Bruce, but the older children held him back.
Jack started shuffling across the cave, pushing Duke in front of him like a human shield. When they stopped, Jack peered out at his father from behind Duke. "Ddaddy mmad?"
"No," Bruce said wearily. He would answer their questions, but he was tired of trying to convince them of things they refused to believe.
"What are you working on?" Duke asked.
They chatted about the case for a bit. Bruce pretended not to notice when Jack finally crept out from behind Duke, sneaked around, and climbed up the back of Bruce's chair. Small arms cautiously encircled his neck. "Ddaaaddy." Bruce patted Jack's arms as he kept talking to Duke. After a moment, the child put a leg over the back of the chair and slithered down into Bruce's lap. Bruce held him, and the boy slowly relaxed.
When Dick started approaching, this time the boys allowed themselves to be dragged along. "How did you find out that the experiments weren't just theoretical?"
"One of the assistants told me." Bruce nodded at the screen.
Dick leaned to read it, then laughed. "He totally thought you were his boss!"
"Not so hard to do. Dr. Granger's writing style was easy to replicate." He finally risked making eye contact with the children. John and Peter were studying him intently.
For a while, no one said anything, then John at last let go of Dick so he could use both hands to sign. "I don't like seatbelts."
"I know."
"Do not do seatbelts."
"We're going to practice every day."
"No!"
"Yes."
"Bad!"
Bruce just looked at him.
"...Bad Laugh Man?" John signed desperately.
"He's dead."
John stared at him for a long time, until Dick gently nudged him toward Bruce. He took another couple of steps, trembling, and at the look on his face, Jack suddenly scrambled away. John raised his hands and pleaded slowly, "You love me?"
Bruce couldn't bring himself to say it when he'd be dragging the boy to the garage again every morning for the foreseeable future. When he mutely held out his hands, John climbed right into his lap and clung to him and cried.
At first, they were just ordinary sobs. But then the child's voice rose to a scream, and Bruce didn't know what to do with such devastation except hold John as he howled into Bruce's shoulder. The younger children looked solemn until Dick gently herded them away toward the training area, where he began to teach them some stretching exercises as Duke started working on the other equipment.
John wept like his heart was broken. After a very long time, when he'd finally wound down from wild sobs to sad wails, Bruce started to sing softly, hoping it might soothe him even a fraction as much as Dick's singing did. "[*censored because FFN is stupid*]..." John quieted almost at once. A minute later, Bruce's back started to creep as he sensed that he had an audience. He hated singing where anyone could hear, but his son needed the comfort, so he had to keep going. "[*censored because FFN is stupid*]..."
Jack crawled back into his lap, worked himself under Bruce's arm, and snuggled into him. "[*censored because FFN is stupid*]..." John gave a deep sigh and relaxed in exhausted surrender. "[*censored because FFN is stupid*]."
There was a long pause after the song came to a close. Then Duke's awed voice floated up behind him, making him wince. "Holy crap, Bruce can sing?"
"He's Batman, he can do anything," Dick laughed. "I know you hate it, Bruce, but it's good to hear."
Peter circled around to stand in front of the chair. "I do not like you here." He indicated the cave.
Bruce sighed. "I have to work here sometimes. You can go back upstairs and play with Dick."
"You come UP, play, light, better."
Dick came to join him. "Maybe you should take a break, Batman."
So Bruce changed out of his tear-and-snot-soaked shirt into a fresh one, gently cleaned John's face and gave him a cup of water to drink, and then they all (except Duke, who elected to remain downstairs and keep training) trooped up to the house to play a round of Candy Land: Justice League Edition.
Dick and the younger two children seemed to enjoy it. John wasn't interested, choosing instead to lie with his head pillowed on Bruce's thigh and simply watch, making soft noises of appreciation whenever Bruce stroked his hair.
TBC
A/N: As anyone who's seen That Episode of Justice League Unlimited knows, Bruce is canonically a good singer. :)