The Birds Who Smile, a Batman fanfic by Raberba girl
Chapter 18.5 (rough draft 2)
A/N: I don't know anything about the legal system, I don't even watch lawyer shows. I did hours of Internet research on relevant family law and looked for books at the library, but still couldn't find a lot of what I was looking for (including what a lawyer's workspace, co-workers and/or employees, and daily activities are like). I'm just making stuff up here.
*Trigger warning for harsh reference to a pregnancy miscarriage.
o.o.o
The next order of business was to get the boys fed properly, since John hadn't had much breakfast, Jack hadn't gotten to finish his, and Peter had had none except his ice cream. Bruce let the children pick something to watch and went to get food for them.
He was startled to walk into the kitchen and find a mess. 'Well, of course it's a mess, Alfred has the day off,' he reminded himself. He didn't actually know how to load a dishwasher, so he piled all the dirty breakfast things in the sink to be washed later, throwing out the food that was no good after sitting out for so long and putting the rest in containers to keep in the refrigerator.
Then he had to find food for his children to eat. He didn't trust himself with any appliance except the toaster and tried to avoid things that would make too much of a mess, so what he ended up bringing back to the living room was dry toast, dry cereal, granola, milk he had poured into closed bottles, and baby carrots (because he figured the kids surely needed a healthier addition to such a meal).
The younger two energetically gobbled their food as much as they could while splitting their attention between asking for each morsel and watching the show. John looked so uninterested that Bruce didn't even try the usual feeding method with him. The boy ignored a full plate when it was set in front of him, but chewed and swallowed mechanically, his eyes still fixed on the TV, whenever a spoon or straw was held to his mouth.
Bruce's phone rang around midmorning. He winced guiltily - with all the seatbelt drama and his lack of a functioning butler, he'd forgotten that he had agreed to video conference with his lawyers this morning. He rejected the call but immediately texted, Give me ten minutes, I'll call you back. Then he hurried to retrieve his laptop.
Right now, few people knew that the birds were alternate universe counterparts of Bruce's sons, but it would inevitably become common knowledge someday. With Batman's luck, some villain or journalist or detective would at some point age up a photograph of John until they basically had a picture of Nightwing, and then, if they knew that John was a version of Dick Grayson, they would know Nightwing's identity. Although Jason and Tim were in less danger (Red Hood usually concealed his whole face, and Jack's facial scars were minimal), someone who knew what they were doing could get proof of their identities as well.
Bruce was set on preventing the existence (outside his own files and the blurry news photos from the Batpocalypse) of any visual record of the children's masks and resulting scars, particularly John's. Sunglasses wouldn't work this time - he could get away with it in public, but not in a more intimate setting with people who were trying to help him get guardianship of the children in question.
Bruce already had a computer program that automatically hunted for and deleted or corrupted photos and footage of his family when they were in uniform; he had recently modified a version of it for situations like this. He set it up to activate when he established a connection. He had agreed to an audio-only recording, but if anyone on his legal team made a video recording of any part of the interview, his hunting program would copy the resulting files to the Batcomputer and then corrupt the originals. His efforts were probably unnecessary, but his paranoia had served him well in the past, and he would continue to rely on it.
He called back, using a video connection on his laptop. JoAnn answered instantly. She was sitting at a conference table beside her partner, Darcy, surrounded by paperwork.
"Well, hello, Mr. Wayne! This is JoAnn, the gal you're paying to help you adopt some kids! I'm so excited to finally see your generically handsome face again! I'm so excited to think that maybe, JUST MAYBE, this will be the day when we finally get to talk to your little bundles of joy, because that would make finishing your paperwork SO MUCH EASIER, you dang-blasted troll."
Bruce's mouth twitched with amusement at her tone, which was of exaggerated cheerfulness layered over frustration. This wasn't the first time he'd caused her and her team headaches, and it surely would not be the last. "JoAnn~!" he replied in his most vacuous Brucie voice, "How are you this lovely morning?" The birds stared at him like he'd turned into an alien, and he remembered this was only the second time they'd seen his Brucie persona.
"Whatever, Wayne. I don't have time for your crap." Beside her, Darcy pressed his fist to his mouth in an attempt to stifle laughter.
"What about my kids' crap, do you have time for theirs?" He sensed the birds gathering behind his chair to peer cautiously at the laptop.
"Don't be ridiculous, those precious angels you're trying to get your claws on don't even know what crap smells like." A plump, middle-aged woman hurried into view and took a seat just behind JoAnn. "Oh, good, Emi's back, we can get started."
"I'm Emilia Jones, the ASL interpreter," the woman explained.
"Hello, I'm B-r-u-c-e, it's nice to meet you," Bruce signed.
Emilia looked delighted. "Ms. Mendez!" she exclaimed, "He is not an irredeemable piece of- He's not what you called him earlier!"
"You only think that because you've never tried to get hold of him or pry important information out of him," JoAnn huffed. "Now, where are the cutie patooties?"
Bruce turned to the children. "Boys, say hi to Ms. Mendez, Mr. Holt, and Ms. Jones."
John didn't move and Peter ducked back behind the chair, but Jack cautiously pulled himself up until he was lying on the armrest, propping an arm against Bruce's shoulder. He pointed at the screen. "Daddy, ddere ppeop'ull onn co'pputterr."
JoAnn's face softened into a warm expression, and Darcy smiled widely. "Aw, hey there, buddy!"
"Daddy?"
"These people work for me, Jack. They've been making documents for you and your brothers, and now they're helping me make sure that you can live with me until you grow up." As he spoke, Peter hoisted himself up the back of the chair and poked his head over Bruce's other shoulder. "JoAnn, Darcy, Ms. Jones, this is Jack and Peter. John..." He glanced down at the boy, who sighed and crawled into his lap. Bruce rested his arms around him. "This is Johnny."
"Sweetest sweeties in the whole wide world," JoAnn cooed. Then her tone instantly sharpened. "They're too good for you, Wayne."
Jack was reading her body language. "Daddy, ssshhe nnicce," he remarked, causing Darcy to laugh. The child sat up so he could add with his hands, "Protect children." Emilia murmured a translation.
"You've got some smart kids there, Bruce," Darcy said.
"I certainly do."
"Why are they still in pajamas at this hour?" JoAnn demanded.
"Uhhh..."
Before Bruce could think of something to say that didn't make him look like a lazy parent, there was a clatter and some exclaiming in the background ("Are those Mr. Wayne's kids?! ARE THOSE THE BABIES?!"). Two more young women ducked into view. "Awwww, hi, babies! Hiiiiii!" the one with freckles and curly hair squealed. Her companion, dark-skinned and impeccably dressed, smiled and murmured a greeting as well.
"And that's Ms. April and Ms. Diamond," Bruce introduced to the boys. "They work for the people who work for me."
"Pretty," Peter commented. Emilia gave a bark of laughter before catching herself and translating.
"Awww, you think we're pretty? You think we're pretty, little cutie who I'm guessing iiiiis...Peter?"
JoAnn pointed to match names to faces. "Peter, Jack, John. Now SIT your tushes down and hush!" she commanded, "Or I'll kick you back to your desks."
"Yes, ma'am," Diamond drawled amiably. She and April pulled up chairs behind their bosses, looking delighted to be allowed to watch.
"All right, all right!" JoAnn crowed. "Let's get down to business before Wayne escapes again! First off, I notice Mr. Jack there already calls you 'Daddy'?"
"He does, yes," Bruce said, trying not to blush.
"And Mr. Jack, Stealer of Hearts, why do you call that man your daddy?" she asked, trying to clarify how comfortable Jack was with his future guardian and what he knew about his biological parents.
Jack patted both palms on top of Bruce's head. "Daddy."
"Because he is your daddy. Got it." JoAnn, unable to completely hide her smile despite the lack of useful information, glanced back to make sure that either April or Diamond were taking notes (they both were).
"What about you, Peter?" Darcy asked. "Do you think of Bruce as your daddy, too?"
"Bboosse ssayy... Boosse-" Peter stopped, looking frustrated.
"Peter," Bruce said, "Ms. Jones, that nice lady there, she knows sign language. You can talk with your hands if you want, and Ms. Jones will understand and tell the others what you're saying."
Peter's face lit up, and he plunged into ASL. "Two people! Bad Laugh Man, Daddy! THAT bad man, we eat him; THIS one, Daddy. Angry, bad man Laugh; happy, Daddy play and sing and FOOD. I like it."
Everyone on the laptop looked extremely confused.
"That...really is what he said," Emilia said apologetically when she'd stuttered to the end of her interpretation.
"Peter," Bruce said, only somewhat less confused himself, "I know for a fact that you did not eat the Man Who Laughs."
Peter huffed. "You eat him."
"I did not eat him, either."
"Bad Laugh Man angry is different!" Jack contributed. "Daddy angry is gentle."
JoAnn made a sharp swiping gesture. "Okay, STOP. The judge isn't going to ask who ate who. Peter Pumpkin Pie, is Bruce your daddy?"
Peter stared intently at Bruce and didn't answer.
"What does he call you, Bruce?"
"Just 'Bruce,' I think," Bruce said, having a hard time breaking eye contact with the still staring child.
"Is your daddy somewhere else, Peter?"
The boy finally blinked and gasped a little. "crow"
"He's upset, or he doesn't know how to answer," Bruce explained. "Peter, they're asking about the father you had before me, and before the Man Who Laughs. Was there a man who took care of you before Laughs got you?"
"NNO!"
"All right." He wondered if Peter remembered Willis Todd at all, and if he was upset because the man had abused and abandoned him and his mother, or upset because of the question itself. "That's okay. We just wanted to know."
"What about your mommy, Peter?" Darcy asked.
"NNOOOO!" Peter threw himself to the floor. John hopped down after him and petted him soothingly.
"[caw] ssad," Jack said solemnly.
"That cawing sound is what they call Peter. We might have to give him a minute. He was close to his mother - he told me how he lost her, and it was very traumatic for him."
"He told you?"
"Yes, his first or second week here. He stayed with her body after she passed away, until Laughs found him and took him."
"Poor kiddo," Darcy murmured.
"Hopefully he can tell us that himself," JoAnn said sympathetically, "but in the meantime, Mr. Jack: what about your mommy?"
Jack cocked his head in confusion. "Mmommy?"
"Your mother and father, Jack," Bruce said. "The parents you had before me and before the Man Who Laughs. Can you tell us about them?"
"Daddy save me."
"But they need to know about the people who took care of you before me. Where did the Man Who Laughs find you, Jack? Where were you when the Man Who Laughs came and took you away?"
"...Bad place."
"Was it a house?"
Jack covered his ears.
"Jack. Jackie." It took some coaxing before Bruce was able to get Jack to pay attention again. "The Man Who Laughs is gone. He can't hurt you anymore. We just want to know what the place was that he took you from."
"Big...big." Tears started to slip down his face. "I love you, Daddy. Bad them take me away from Daddy. Alone, I miss Daddy, VERY sad."
"...Jack," Bruce said cautiously. "You did not meet me before the Man Who Laughs. You lived with your parents, didn't you? Then the Man Who Laughs took you away from your parents."
"You know this for a fact, Bruce?" Darcy asked sharply.
"I- No, not-"
"We have to hear it from the kids themselves."
Bruce tried to hold on to his patience. "I know for sure that I brought the children to my house after the Man Who Laughs died."
"You eat Bad Laugh Man."
'Keep your temper,' Bruce reminded himself yet again. "Wait just a moment." He fetched a framed photograph of the Drakes from a corner of the mantelpiece, showed it briefly to JoAnn and the others, then gave it to Jack. "Look. Don't you remember these people? They were your mother and fath-"
Jack hurled the photograph across the room. "NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he screamed. "NNNOOOOOOOOO! NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Then he had such a violent tantrum that even John didn't try to approach him. His brothers simply perched near and watched sadly as he screamed and wept. "NNOOOOOOOOOO!"
Bruce was thoroughly alarmed. "Jack-!" He couldn't even hear himself over the screaming. On the laptop, JoAnn's mouth was pressed into a flat line and Darcy looked like his heart was breaking. Emilia and April were wide-eyed with shock; Diamond's face was impassive, but her eyes glinted knowingly. "I- I can't-"
"It's fine," JoAnn said calmly. Bruce had to read her lips to understand her. "We'll wait."
So they waited, until Jack's screams finally died down and he was sobbing his heart out. John and Peter piled themselves on top of him to comfort him. Bruce tried to reach out, but couldn't find enough of Jack to rest his hand on.
"Mr. Jack," JoAnn finally said briskly, "are you finished?" Bruce adjusted the laptop so they could see the kids on the floor.
Jack squirmed under his brothers until he could raise his head. His eyes were blazing with determination and grief. "Bbba'dd Llllafff Mmman, ttta'kke mme fff, ffrrromm D-DADDY," he choked out. "DADDY. DADDY!" He pointed violently. "HHE Dddadd'yyy!"
"JoAnn, I swear I-"
"Shut up. Later." She tapped a stack of papers on the tabletop. "Mr. Peter, I'm going to ask you another question. Are there nice things to eat at Bruce's house?"
She was successful in keeping the interview going while giving the kids a break from more traumatic questions. Peter's wary look gave way to eagerness. "Eggs toast bacon bananas cereal peanut butter potatoes beans fish veggie burger apples carrots ice cream muffins...!"
Darcy finally interrupted, "That sounds DELICIOUS, kiddo! Looks like Bruce certainly keeps you well-fed."
"Good food, yes!" Peter agreed.
"What's the 'veggie burger' thing about?" JoAnn asked.
"The children have an aversion to meat," Bruce explained, "I'm pretty sure because of...of what he fed them." JoAnn grimaced and Diamond briefly closed her eyes. The others all looked a little confused, though Darcy realized it on his own a moment later, and the answer to April's whispered question had her gasping in horror. "Peter and Jack will sometimes eat a bit of non-red meat, but John won't touch any animal flesh at all. My son Damian is already a vegetarian, so it's been easy to make extra portions for the kids."
"I see." Now that the children were calmer, JoAnn tried again with a difficult question. "Johnny love, what about your parents? Tell me about them."
"Nno."
"Why not?"
"Hurts," he signed.
"Why does it hurt, sweetheart?"
"Dead."
"Which one? Was it Mommy who went away, or Daddy who went away?"
Tears began to spill down John's cheeks. "Mama Daddy fall. Mama Daddy burn. Gone, gone, [crow, crow, crow, crow]...!"
"All right, lovey, all right, just like poor Dickie Grayson, I got it."
"GIVE ME MAMA DADDY!"
"I know you want them back. I want my daughter back, too, but she's currently a pecan-sized pile of rotting tissue in a landfill somewhere, and I'm never going to see her before I get to heaven. I just gotta live with that." Darcy, who, like Bruce, had known about the miscarriage already, looked as pained as Bruce felt; the other women, who were only just finding out, looked horrified.
"Mama Daddy dead," John signed stiffly, and JoAnn had to prod the stricken Emilia before she remembered to interpret.
"My little CeeCee's dead, too. It makes me sad and ANGRY."
"Ssssaa a'gggeee!" John yelled in agreement.
JoAnn sniffed and cleared her throat and briskly flipped a page over. "Mr. Peter, let's try this again, because you're the one we have to hear it from. Do you love your mommy?"
"I LOVE MAMA!"
"Good. Good boys love their mamas. But now you gotta tell me, can your mama take care of you right now?"
He started to cry again. "Mama dead!"
"I'm so sorry, precious."
"She burn!"
"I wish that hadn't happened to her, baby child. I wish your mama was alive and well and could look after you."
"Dead." Peter covered his face with his hands for a minute, then, to Bruce's surprise, crawled into his lap for comfort.
"Jack," Darcy asked. "Would you like me to call you Tim, or Jack?"
"I Ttimmyy, I nno Ttimmy, I Jja'ckk."
"So you're not Timmy anymore, you're Jack, huh."
"Ttimmy bbig. I llli'ttlle," he switched to sign language in mid-sentence, "I grow I big like Busy."
" 'Busy' is their sign-name for Tim," Bruce explained when Emilia had interpreted it.
"All right, Jack-who's-going-to-be-big-like-Tim," Darcy continued. "Why were you so upset when Bruce showed you that picture?"
"...Lonely."
"Who was lonely?"
"ME! I miss Daddy!"
"He's not remembering it right," Bruce said desperately. "It's impossible for him to have known me before his kidnapping."
Darcy waved for him to be quiet. "Do you have more than one daddy, Jack? Is Bruce your daddy, and is someone else also your daddy?"
Tears started to slip down Jack's cheeks again, and he took a long time to answer. "...Nnno."
"So you only have one daddy, and it's Bruce?" Darcy sighed in mild frustration.
"He's Daddy!"
"Who was that man in the picture?"
"Bad man! Take me away from Daddy!"
"I thought it was the Batman Who Laughs who took you away."
"Nnnooo!" Jack shouted in a rage. "Stupid you! Daddy loves me! Photograph people do not love me! They take me away from Daddy, Bad Laugh Man take me away from people, Daddy kill Bad Laugh Man, he save me love me!"
"I didn't kill anyone," Bruce groaned hopelessly.
"You have psych evals done on them yet, Bruce?" JoAnn asked, matter-of-fact.
"Uh...working on it." He had nearly completed psychological profiles for the birds, similar to ones he had made multiple times for his older children. The honest evaluations were combined with bogus credentials as well as feedback from genuine professionals who hadn't known the true context of what they were giving input on. Bruce hadn't had time yet to look for a therapist he trusted (a search made even more difficult by Gotham City having a higher number of villainous or corrupt mental health professionals than average), and he couldn't risk giving such access to his youngest children, still unschooled in keeping the Bat's secrets, to therapists outside the hero community, particularly since the children were misremembering things. Even if Batman stayed a secret and Bruce stayed out of jail, he might lose his little birds - he might even lose Damian and Duke - if too many things went wrong.
"Hmmm." Darcy ran a hand through his hair. "I don't suppose you happen to have death certificates for the Jack and Janet Drake of the kids' homeworld lying around, do you?"
"...I might be able to obtain them," Bruce said, very cautiously. By which he meant, 'I can forge them if you think I can get away with it.'
April and Emilia looked confused; JoAnn, Darcy, and Diamond looked solemn.
The latter rose from her chair and moved closer to the screen. "Jack. You have three parents, don't you? You have a dad who loves you, and a mom and dad who maybe didn't love you so much."
"...They go," Jack signed with tiny gestures, whimpering. "I'm alone. It hurts. I miss Daddy, I miss him! I want Daddy!"
"Mr. Wayne is a real nice daddy, huh. What about the other dad, and the mom? When they left you alone, did they walk out of the house, or did they go to sleep?"
"They leave. ...They sleeping. ...Mom, Dad...sleep- They do not wake up! Why they do not wake up?!" He covered his face and screamed again. Bruce gently shifted Peter aside so he could move close enough to lay a hand on Jack's head. Jack frantically scrambled into Bruce's lap and wept for a bit as Bruce held him. Diamond took a seat again as everyone silently congratulated her on coming up with a successful way to frame the question.
"Your first mother and father were sleeping?" Bruce finally asked. "Jack, how did it smell? Did it smell good in that room, or did it smell bad?"
It took a minute, but Jack, still crying, finally gathered himself to sign. "Smell bad! Bugs... I call 9-1-1, wait come alone, it's very quiet my heart hurts, Bad Laugh Man! BAD LAUGH MAN!" He wept some more.
"That's when the Man Who Laughs came?" Bruce clarified softly.
"He say HELP! He say- BAD MAN, he LIE! Hhhe lllie, Daddy, he ssay I hhehhpp yyou, he tta'kke mme, he HHHUHHT me, Daddy! He hurt me, why he hurt me, why he hurt me...?!"
"Bad," John had started to sign, "Bad Laugh Man, bad, he take birds and tie us hurt us."
"I think that's all we need from the kiddos," Darcy spoke up quietly, writing something down. "Confirmation from all three of them; two sets of parents and the third mother deceased, third father out of the picture - homeworld claims are nonexistent."
Bruce exhaled. "What else do you need?"
"For the elder Mr. Todd to CALL US BACK," JoAnn said, "and your doctor - ANY licensed doctor, Wayne - to sign the abuse reports and physical evaluations."
"Dr. Thompkins is actually supposed to meet with me later today."
"Good. We're also going to need to get hold of someone from the Justice League, gosh darn it to heck."
"Do you...need my help with that?"
"Got something we're gonna try first. Unless you know EXACTLY who took the sweet darlings away from their abuser?"
"From what I understand, they were present during the final fight between Batman and Laughs. Batman took them away from the battlefield and handed them over to me. I don't know if they made any stops or interacted with anyone in between."
"Batman," JoAnn said in disgust. "Couldn't have been Cyborg, huh. I bet HE picks up when people call him..."
"I can pass along a message to Batman for you, if you want."
"What, and wait three months for him to bother responding? No, thank you, SIR. We'll let you know if we're desperate. If you bother to pick up the phone, that is."
"I'm honestly not that bad at answering messages, JoAnn..."
TBC
A/N: Batman is paranoid, and I am paranoid, so I write Bruce taking the same precautions I would if I had the same resources, expertise, and motivation he does. X'D
I don't know if I made it clear enough in the story, but, yes, Jack is remembering things wrong! He thinks that canon-Bruce has always been his real daddy, and that first the Drakes and then the Batman Who Laughs took him away before Daddy finally found him again and rescued him.
This is from a review reply I sent to a reader that also might help clarify:
The main thing the lawyers were trying to do with this interview, other than incidentally observing how the kids interact with Bruce and how comfortable with him they are, was to establish firsthand evidence of who currently has the closest thing to rightful custody of the kids and whether the children will be available for Bruce to adopt them. JoAnn and the others have already been told everything about the kids' situation that doesn't risk the Bats' vigilante work (the kids are AU versions of Dick, Jay, and Tim; their biological parents are all dead, etc.), but since this is such an unusual situation (they're also having to establish the kids as legally existing persons at the same time and have not yet finished that process), it's challenging.
In ordinary cases, they'd have birth certificates and death certificates and "Yes I give up rights to my child" or "No I do not give up rights to my child" or "This parent is unfit to have responsibility for this child" paperwork, but here, they're having to start from scratch to prove to a judge that, yes, these kids are available for adoption, and no biological parent or former guardian is going to come bursting in on the scene later, suing Bruce to get their kid back.
They also have to work delicately because the kids are so traumatized and full of triggers - like, you can't just flat-out deny a kid's sincere statement even if you know it's totally wrong, you have to sort of work around him to get the info you need.
That's what I was going for, anyway. (Also, stuff like the food question was asked almost solely to calm the kids down, something really easy to keep the interview going but give them a break from being traumatized.)