The Birds Who Smile, a Batman fanfic by Raberba girl
Chapter 18.7 (rough draft 2)
John was willing to accompany Bruce anywhere far away from Alfred. Outside, Cassandra and Duke were teaching the little ones more graceful fighting moves that were slowed down enough to not look like fighting moves, until John came dashing up to throw himself into his sister's arms and burst into tears.
"Grandpa sick?" Jack signed to Bruce across the yard.
"I gave him lunch. He will feel better soon," Bruce signed back. As he went over to join them, Cassandra took John aside.
"Soooo, Bruce," Duke said.
Bruce peered at him, feeling uneasily like he should already know why Duke looked so expectant and nervous and excited. "Yes?"
"Is this...a good time...?"
"For...?"
"You know. The Watchtower? You said you'd show me how to use the Zeta-Tube today."
"Hrn. I did, didn't I..."
Duke frowned. "You promised."
"I'll show you." Bruce glanced over at the others. "Let's wait until Cassandra has calmed him down, though."
Across the yard, Cassandra had been attempting to speak to her little brother, as she'd promised. "Precious, you are afraid, angry, so tense."
"That man, I hate him, HATE HIM, hate him so much ugly things spill out of my heart suffocate me..."
"Bruce-him hurt you?"
"Cut me to the heart, kill me. I'm dead. I walk, look, move, crow, but I am dead."
"I think no. You say Bruce-him hurt you, I say another hurt you."
"HIM. HIM."
"The one who hurt you, he Smiled and Laughed. Bruce-him does not Smile or Laugh. He does nice human smiling and laughing only."
"He PRETENDS!" John raged. "Him sweet gentle, then HURT ME! Again again again again again again again...!"
She had to hold him for a long time, until the sobs faded. "Different him. Precious, I love you. Two of them, evil him and kind him. This Bruce is kind. Evil one is gone."
"NNNNOOOOO!" John screamed aloud. "NNNNOOOO! He trick you, STUPID YOU he tell you sweet gentle, you BELIEVE HIM, stupid you! Stupid [warble]-him stupid [caw]-him stupid Duke-him stupid you, everyone hates me, everyone Laughs, everyone tie me down cut open my heart...!"
Cassandra was weeping now. Such depth of pain... Though she had felt it in herself, she did not know how to heal it in another. He had been wounded differently than she had, the world in his eyes was so different than it was in hers, there was so little she could do for him except love him and protect him until the day he dared to trust again. Until the day she died, if necessary. "I love you, precious, my heart hurts for you...!"
"Comfort me."
She held him again.
"...I am tired. My soul is tired."
"Inside you, there is a flame, there is life. In this place, there is room for it to burn. The little ones, they depend on you, look up to you. If your flame goes out, theirs goes out. Keep your flame alive."
He drew in breath. He straightened and trotted over to his master and hugged him. "I love you," he cooed in bird language, with the little undertone that meant "smug/pretending," even more smug because, for all the power Master had, he didn't know birdspeak. That was secret, only for [chirp-chirp] and [caw] and [warble], and [trill] before Master had killed her. Bird language was one of the only ways they were still free.
"~~ you feeling better ~~ Johnny?" Master asked cautiously.
[chirp-chirp] smiled a boy-smile up at him instead of a Smile. "Relieved" Master said with his body, and patted him, and relaxed a little.
When Cassandra started teaching the children how to dance for art rather than raw emotion, Bruce and Duke retreated to the cave. Bruce contemplated the Batsuit and slowly tried it on again. Though it seemed heavier than it had been before the apocalypse, he didn't feel sick or suffocated in it anymore.
Duke was already waiting by the Zeta-Tube, dressed in the uniform he'd decided to call the Signal and making an effort to appear calm. "Are you ready?" Bruce asked.
"I've been ready since I got out of bed this morning."
"All right. I need to recalibrate your handprint permissions, and then I'll tell you the numeric code."
"Recalibrate?"
"Your handprint is already in its memory bank, I just need to re-assign it from emergency access to standard access."
"Guess I shouldn't ask how you already have my handprint on file..."
Eventually, they were ready to go. The journey itself was just as short and uneventful as usual. They stepped out onto the Watchtower's main floor, and Batman glanced over to enjoy the awe and appreciation in Signal's body language as he looked around.
"Batman," Cyborg greeted from a workstation. Then he smiled widely. "And Duke! You made it!"
"Call him the Signal." Bruce surprised himself with the sound of Batman's growl coming out of his own mouth. While he wore the cowl, it was automatic.
"The Signal, huh?"
"Yeah," the teen explained, "it's...something my mom said, a while ago. I thought..."
"I think it's a great superhero name. Come on over, let me show you what I'm working on."
Batman hung back and watched for a while, then prowled around to check on various programs, then watched some more, until he realized he was literally lurking in the shadows. 'No wonder they always make fun of me.' He tried to adjust his stance to be less stalker-y as he approached. "Think you'll be all right up here, Signal?"
"No, Batman. I've had enough and want to go home right away," the teen deadpanned.
Batman looked at Cyborg. "If anything-"
"I'll call you," Cyborg promised immediately. "First hint of aliens, supervillains, apocalypse #278, whatever; if anything happens, I'll call you. It's been pretty quiet, though. Don't worry about your kid, Batdad."
"Don't call me that." Dick, Jason, and Stephanie liked to tease him with that. He secretly rather liked it, but it was embarrassing coming from a colleague rather than one of his children.
"I might be late tonight," Signal said absently, his eyes following the readout on one of the computer screens.
"Check in every two hours, or I will come after you."
"*sigh* I will."
Batman did another round of the satellite, checking on more systems, then ran out of ways to procrastinate and reluctantly took his leave. Duke was happy. Duke would be safe. Duke would check in regularly, or Bruce would come to check on him in person. Everything was fine.
He still wasn't able to step into the Zeta-Tube until the sound of Signal's laughter at something Cyborg said made him relax.
Back at home, Bruce had just enough time to check on Alfred again before Leslie Thompkins arrived. She had been working herself to the bone ever since the apocalypse, caring for Gotham's neediest, and she looked it. This was the first time she'd agreed to travel all the way out to the manor, and since the free clinics would be among the last bits of the city to recover, Bruce was pretty sure Leslie had only agreed out of a subconscious acknowledgement that she needed a break.
"Did you drive here?" he asked in concern when he opened the door to her. Her hair and clothes were a mess, she smelled like she hadn't bathed properly in several days, her eyes were bloodshot and slightly unfocused, and she was swaying a little where she stood.
"Had someone drop me off," she said faintly.
"My God, Leslie, come in, eat something - the boys can wait, you can look at them later."
She waved her hand. "I can't leave the clinic for long. Just give me a cup of coffee and a place to set up. I'll eat before I go."
She might subconsciously know she needed to rest, but apparently hell needed to freeze over before she'd admit it.
Bruce brought her coffee and led her to one of the guest rooms, telling her it would probably be better for her to conceal her instruments. Then he brought in John.
The boy was wary from the start. "This is Dr. Thompkins, John. She needs to look you over and give you some tests. I promise you will not be hurt." John, though unhappy, submitted without much resistance at first when Leslie checked things like his eyes and the sound of his breathing, and accepted a small treat for sitting still. He tensed when Bruce started to undress him. He stared anxiously from one adult to the other as Bruce explained what was happening and laid re-arrangeable sheets and towels over John's body to give the boy as much privacy as possible. "She is going to have to look at every part of you, but it won't take long. No one will hurt you, John."
Despite Leslie's soothing voice and gentle touch, John trembled and whimpered as she examined him, and fiercely turned his head away when Bruce offered him another treat. He did, however, hug Elephant tightly when Bruce put the toy in his arms. He started to cry in earnest when Leslie gently tried to turn him and he couldn't watch what she was doing to him anymore.
"John, she is not going to hurt you. I promise you are safe, John. It will be over soon, you're being very good..."
It didn't take long in actuality, but it felt like ages before Leslie said "Done," and made one last note on her clipboard. John held Elephant and sniffled and did not acknowledge either of the adults as they struggled to get him dressed again.
"You're finished, John. You did very well. No one hurt you, and you are safe. I'm going to take you back to Cassandra, and you can have something to eat or drink, if you like."
When Bruce came back, he brought Peter with him. The boy was twitchy and wary, and looked mistrustfully at Leslie when she greeted him with a tired smile. "Hello, love. I'm Dr. Thompkins."
Peter was not nearly as cooperative as John had been, but he was more accepting of treats. Bruce bribed him with one grape after another to hold still long enough for Leslie to get through the exam. The limits of his tolerance were finally broken near the end, and he screamed in fear and fury when Bruce held him down, but he did accept a banana afterward.
"It's over, Peter. Finished."
"Nnnoo mmore," he said tearfully, barely understandable since he was still chewing.
"The doctor is finished. Let's get you dressed, and then you can go play."
At first, Jack was by far the most at ease, babbling cheerfully to Leslie as she examined the top half of him and his legs and feet. His expression changed and he balked when he realized that he was expected to get completely undressed in her presence. "No! No! Mmy, mmy sssee'kket mme!"
Bruce thought a moment. "Jack. Right now, this person is not a woman. This person is a doctor, and doctors are not men or women while they're working, they're just humans doing their job. Doctors have to look at people's bodies to make sure they don't get sick. When Dr. Thompkins is finished examining you, then you can put your clothes back on and she'll be just Leslie again. But right now, this person is a doctor, and it's okay to show a doctor the secret parts of your body when they're only trying to see how healthy you are."
Jack started to cry, holding tight to Bruce's hand as he submitted. "Ii d-ddohht lllike ii't, I ddoht...ddoht wwa't...!" When the exam was finished, he cried even harder when he was dressed again, and crawled into his father's arms to be comforted.
"You're safe...it's over now...you're all right, no one hurt you," Bruce murmured, rocking him. He looked at Leslie. "Were there...any signs of sexual abuse? On any of them?" After everything his alternate self had done to the children, after all the things he himself had had to do that upset or frightened them, it had never felt right to check for such a thing himself. Even now that Leslie was finally here, he was almost afraid to know for sure.
"Nothing that would have left permanent marks," she murmured quietly.
He exhaled and closed his eyes, resting his cheek against Jack's hair.
"Everything pretty much matches your own reports," she went on. "I signed them just now, but let me check them over again before you submit them. I'm so...tired, I just..."
"You can wait in here, let me get you some more coffee before you go," Bruce said. He carried Jack away to be reunited with his siblings, then took his time in the kitchen. When he came back, he found, to his satisfaction, that Leslie had indeed fallen asleep in the guest room, as he'd hoped. He hadn't even bothered to glance at the coffee maker; he had brought a bottle of water and a couple of granola bars instead, which he now set down on the bedside table. Then he laid a blanket over Leslie, turned out the light, and quietly shut the door before he left.
TBC
A/N: Although dark-Carrie was not actually killed by BWL, John is convinced that it's BWL's fault whenever anyone dies. (Because, 99% of the time, it is; he just assumes the 1% is BWL's work, too.)