Time for family feels and aftermaths!

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Dick had returned to his apartment feeling an overwhelming plethora of emotions crashing down upon him as he fought through the haze of the sedatives. Several times he had nearly mis-swung or botched a landing, but he had not been able to stop, not until he was safely within his apartment, tucked far away from everyone and everything else. It was too much to deal with, and yet he could not make it all go away. There was no forgetting this outrageous turn of events.

Bruce was a traitor… he had flat out knowingly betrayed his trust, bashing seventeen years' worth of partnership and love to pieces.

And Damian was gone. The boy he had accepted with open arms, trusted when no one else had, was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it. To travel halfway across the world and confront Talia and the League of Assassins would be suicide, and ultimately, would only traumatize Damian further.

There was no resolution to this mess, and he had not even felt so defeated and hurt when Bruce had taken Robin away from him, not even close.

He had tried so hard to give Damian a normal life, trust, and unconditional love. Now, he was back with the people that had stripped away any sense of a childhood from him, that had raised him to be the deadliest sort of assassin, that had ultimately made him into an uncaring adult in a child's body… and it was heart breaking.

He collapsed on his bed in full costume, only taking the time to pry his mask loose, rubbing the adhesive left over from his face. He stared up at the ceiling blankly, letting his thoughts run rampant and take hold.

Suddenly he felt so very alone.

He had fallen asleep with his costume on, for once not able to care that such a thing could get him caught if one of his civilian acquaintances happened to let themselves in. He was drained, and still feeling the side effects of the sedative, which made sleep come quickly and with ease. So much so that he did not awaken until the following after noon.

When he had, the word came crashing back down upon him once more, and he had cried. He had curled in on himself, body wracked with sobs, as he thought of all he had just lost.

It was only hours later, after he had regained a sliver of his composure, that he was able to call the one person that stuck by him no matter what idiotic, selfish things he had done.

He did so via webcam, needing to see her face, to see her speak her comforting words, to see her outrage.

And outrage it was.

Babs had known just by looking at him that something was very wrong. When he explained, rather shakily with his voice cracking, she had erupted into a blazing rage. She could feel his hurt long before he had begun to cry once more, and when the tears did fall, she murmured comforting words at him, cooing at him softy, and even without her there right beside him, he could feel the ghost of her fingers carding through his hair.

Barbara Gordon could ease the pain, but she would be unable to heal the wounds, wounds that were surely going to leave jagged scars across his heart.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

After Tim's departure, Bruce has silently slipped into the showers, washing away the night's filth. He wished he could wash away the guilt rolling off him in waves, and cleanse himself of memories of the past several hours, but that was a feat left up to the magicians, and they were not going anywhere near his mind.

As he had suspected, any progress he had made with Jason over the past several months had seemingly gone to waste, not particularly due to Damian's departure, but the treatment of his eldest. He honestly wondered what the consequences of severing that trust once again would be…

He shuddered at the thought, the hot water beating down on his back rhythmically.

He had distanced himself from Tim even further on this night as well, which pained him greatly, the boy already having become reclusive since his return, or rather, his death if what Alfred ad been saying was true, and the elder man was seldom in the wrong. The past few months he had only watched as Tim had slipped further and further away, disappearing all together for days at times, which was worrisome.

But the response from Dick, which had been everything he had expected, and prepared himself for, was what tugged at his heart strings. He could have perhaps brushed the encounter off, for they had gotten into many arguments over the years, but the statement the he wished he had never returned put a whole new light on the situation.

This time he had truly messed up. The repercussions of this fiasco were going to be extreme, and Dick never would forget, he could only hope that his eldest forgave… understood with time.

When finished with his shower, Bruce pulled a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt onto his bulky form, and started his walk of shame up the cave stairwell. As promised, Alfred was already waiting for him in the dining room, dinner and tea seated at the head of the table. With a heavy sigh, he crossed the stretch of room to the table, and slid down into his seat.

Bruce knew that things were truly serious, and that he was about to get an ample talking to, when Alfred sat down kiddie corner from him and let out a ragged sigh as he poured them tea.

"Alfred?" Bruce broke the silence, watching as the man took a large swig of tea.

"Master Bruce… you know very well that I bite my tongue in regards to a considerable amount of what goes on in this household out of my undying devotion to you, Sir, however," The man paused, seemingly prepping himself. "what has gone on tonight has slipped so far over the line that I very honestly fear for you. You showed absolutely no compassion tonight for any of your children. You sent away your youngest, your only blood-son, and put him in the hands of a woman you surely know will brainwash him into being the same coldhearted shell of boy he was when he arrived here, if not more so. You sedated Master Richard, highly against his will, and took away the boy he spent a year bonding with, forming strong emotional attachment, whilst you were away, Timothy was missing, and he otherwise secluded himself. Not only is the loss devastating for him, but it was a severe breach of trust, even if you did so to potentially save his life. That was not your choice to make I am afraid, and I am sure that he is now questioning the legitimacy of your love for any of them, anyone for that matter, if in one night you could manage to cut everyone so deeply and rip their trust to shreds." The man sighed, shaking his head sadly.

"Alfred, it was not my intention to hurt them all so…" he moaned, hanging his head.

"Master Bruce, I cannot see how you thought it could not. Master Jason and you have already been at odds with one another for quite some time. The basis of much of his rage and hurt is built off of expectations he had for you in the wake of his death, as well as post revival. I know it is not something you wish to think about, but the lad hardly had a childhood. Surely not before coming to us, hardly so after, and nothing but training, rage, and hate after his return. Had you simply bit the bullet per say, and merely coddled the boy, reassuring him of just how much you cared rather than indulging in his anger, fighting with one another, I do believe things could have happened differently. But you were too distressed to think with a clear mind, repulsed that the child you once loved and cared for so greatly had warped into little more than a highly trained killing machine, and it only made you colder. Any progress you had made these last few months behind the scenes will have been lost by tonight. The boy is far too sensitive to not take your actions tonight to heart, even if nothing was aimed at him. And Timothy? Poor child already has had to deal with abandonment issues starting with his parents, then with Master Richard, and cemented in by yourself upon your return. I cannot fathom what may be going through his head right now, now that you have abandoned your son, the boy who essentially replaced him in everyone's lives, and alienated once more the first boy you took in to love and care for. Let us not even begin to cover the damage to your own psyche that I know very well this has caused whether you show it or not. It is not healthy in the slightest to hold back your emotions, and from where I stand, it seems as though all you do is just that. I dare say you have made a mess of this family as a whole Master Bruce, and if you hope to restore the slightest bit of normalcy and trust, you best do it sooner rather than later as longer you wait, the longer those boys have to think about what has happened, and the longer they think you do not care."

And with that, without giving him the chance to respond, Alfred rose from his seat with a ragged sigh, and left for the kitchen once more, leaving Bruce alone with his thoughts…

He had gone to bed afterwards eating very little. He could not stomach the food with his gut twisting about within.

He slept fitfully, nightmares abundant, and was just as tired the following morning as he had been before attempting to sleep if not more so.

The house was empty, far too quiet and still, other than Alfred lingering in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

He had spent much of his day alone in his office, simply thinking.

He skipped patrol that night, opting instead to search for his sons as Bruce, rather than the bat. But it was not to be on that night, not at all…

For each and every one of them were unreachable. No phones were answered, neither were coms. Tim was not at home, neither was Dick, and Jason could be anywhere and everywhere. Even Oracle was offline, and missing from her tower.

And quite suddenly, Bruce felt eerily alone, for the first time in many years.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Jason awoke with a start, shooting up out of bed with his berretta at the ready, aimed at the window from which the loud knock had come. He fought the urge in his sleep hazed mind to go ahead and pull the trigger as he realized just who was pressed against the glass.

With a growl, he stalked over to the window, wrenching it open with a grunt, glaring at the teen perched just outside.

"The fuck do you want? How long have you known about this location?" He hissed, crossing his arms.

"Longer than you would likely be comfortable with…" Tim sighed, slumping as he stared up at the man. "I-I just… I'm not even sure, really…" He murmured, leaning against the frame.

Jason regarded him carefully, looking him over. Tim looked tired, drained really. Far from his usually perky self. He would have blamed it entirely on the mess with Bruce if he hadn't looked off somewhat prior to the Bat's announcement earlier in the night. Jason was tired too though, and not entirely up to a fight should one break out now of all times.

"What do you want? Just spit it out already. I don't have time for games. In case you hadn't noticed, I was getting some much needed sleep before you woke my ass up." He snapped, lip curling as looked down at the teen.

If at all possible, Tim seemed to make himself smaller as he flinched, averting his gaze.

"I-I'm sorry…" He murmured, clenching at his arms.

Jason drew in a sharp breath, and released it with a growl, backing away from the window.

"Get in before someone sees you. Hurry up, before I change my mind…" He muttered, walking over to retrieve his cigarettes from the crate acting as a nightstand.

Tim obliged, and gently closed the widow behind him.

The older male sat back upon the bed, lighting up, and taking a heavy drag as he glared at the teen. Tim stood where he entered, shifting awkwardly as he looked across at him.

"The hell do you want? I highly doubt that this is a social call, so get it over and done with so you can get the hell away and I can go back to bed."

Tim sagged his shoulders, meeting his gaze with a pleading face, and Jason stiffened.

"Can't we just… call it a truce? Hasn't this gone on long enough, Jason?" He murmured, holding his position. " I…I know that you have been through a world of things, things that Bruce and the rest of us can barely begin to touch upon, but I've never once held that against you."

"That's bullshit, and you know it." He snorted, fixing him with a hardened, guarded gaze.

"Is it really?" Tim asked, pressing as he took a step forward. "Because honestly Jason, I get it. You came back, in a bad place. You were messed up, broken… alone. Bruce had moved on, the Joker was still hurting people, and suddenly here I was in your place, your position, that you never let go of by choice. You came back, and in your eyes, there was nothing to come back to. All you could focus on was revenge, because it honestly seemed as though that was all you had left, the only purpose you could have possibly been brought back for."

"Don't psychoanalyze me-"

"I'm not finished yet!" Tim exclaimed, interrupting him. "I understand, I really do. The idea that killing the bad guys, the ones we know will never change, to eliminate the possibility of a threat… it's logical. I can't deny that. Because when you sit back and do the calculations, the number of lives lost as a result of us holding back is far greater than it would be had we just eliminated the threat in the first place. The thing is… I'm pretty sure we all know this. But the difference with us is… it would break us. We would never come back from it. Whereas with you, you have already been at your lowest, and you can only climb your way back up out of that hole."

"..What are you saying?"

"I am saying that… I understand." Tim sighed. "I know why you do things the way you do. I can even admit that in many ways your methods most definitely work. That does not mean I can condone your actions though. You are still murdering people, albeit very bad people, ones that no amount of help will ever get through to them and result in change for the good, but murdering all the same. However… I cannot condemn you for your actions either. You are not a bad person Jason, and no one has the right to make you feel like you are."

"I've tried to kill you." He stated bluntly, crossing his arms.

"And if you really wanted me dead Jason… I would be, would I not?"

Jason finished off his cigarette with one long drag, the smell of burning filter flittering through the room as he stubbed the butt out in the ashtray.

"You're crazy. You know that?"

"We're all a little mad Jason."

At this, Jason let out a booming laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

"God you seriously just… you've been spending too much time with good ol' Dickie-bird if you can be humorous smack dab in the middle of a completely serious conversation." He chuckled, still torn between being amused and feeling ripped wide open. "So then… what's your deal? What do you want from me? I'm hardly the one to come running to when 'Daddy' shows his true colors and send us all crying to our rooms."

"I just… don't want any bad blood. I don't want to keep you alienated, taking Bruce's side, making you feel as though you are in this alone. But I am not going to take your side either. I don't want to be put in the middle, I just want to be neutral, Switzerland. I do not want to fight anymore. Things are going to get bad enough without us going at each other's throats."

Jason barely suppressed a flinch at what was likely an unintentional dig, letting out a ragged sigh instead, surprisingly nodding in agreement.

"He's not going to get over this… is he?"

Tim smiled sadly, and deciding that things were currently in safe mode, he moved forward, joining Jason upon the bed.

"No, I don't think Dick will..." he murmured, wringing his hands gently in his lap. "Damian was sort of the center of Dick's universe, whether he realized that or not. And what's horrible is, I was so awful to the kid. I – he made life difficult… he ripped my world out from underneath me with no warning, no remorse, full of malicious intent. But even as he gradually got better, as Dick taught him restraint and how the real world works, I never once let it go. I let myself make him just as miserable as I felt. I never treated him like a part of this family, never trusted him, let him know I was always watching, waiting for him to slip up… and looking back? I regret it. I made myself part of the problem… and although I always thought I would be happier if he were gone, I'd give anything right now for him to still be here, if for no other reason than how he made Dick happy. That look on his face Jason..."

"Yeah, I know." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've had that look on my face plenty of times… I get what he's feeling, I just know that he's not me, and hope he doesn't do anything stupid. But judging by how fast he booked it while still feeling the haze of that sedative, that's probably wishful thinking."

"Mmm…" Tim agreed, sighing as he squeezed his eyes shut. "What do we do?"

"We?" Jason laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Fine. We watch him carefully for a while, at a distance. Step in only if we need to. He'll need his space, but leaving him entirely to himself won't help. Go have coffee with him every once and a while or something."

"And you?"

"In case you haven't noticed family bonding isn't my thing. Dick was bitter when I came into the picture, and I died just as things started to not be awkward. Much of my relationship with Bruce was based on us trying to bite each other's heads off, while at the same time I was trying to cling, and was constantly paranoid that I was going to end up back out on the street. I was better at having a civilized conversation with Alfred really, but who isn't? It's best I leave the comforting up to you." He muttered, yawning after.

A moment of silence passed before Tim spoke again.

"Does that mean I can do the same with you?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow at the older man.

"I don't need comforting." He huffed.

Tim only gave him a disbelieving stare.

"I'm sure."

"If you attempt to hug me, I will stab you."

"Hugs are Dick's department, definitely not mine, and he does it whether you like them or not. I've been told however, that you do appreciate a good movie." He suggested.

"Yeah, well the old man's a tattle tale…" he grumbled, rubbing at his stubble. "Luckily Alfred's just too lovable to get angry with… you're not going to leave unless I comply, or shoot you, are you?"

"You will just have to find out, won't you?"

In the end, they ended up making their way out to the living room, collapsing in a heap on the battered couch, flipping stations until something sparked their interest. It hardly mattered though, for both boys were asleep within minutes of relaxing, curled up in the corners of the couch…

The next day they awoke in the very same spot, legs jumbled together where they met in the center of the couch. Instead of harsh words and bickering following suit, Tim simply made breakfast and tea, and Jason was forced to admit to himself that if given the chance, Tim might actually be just as tolerable to be around as Alfred had once been.

And that was a nice thought indeed.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The flight home yielded nothing but impending doom as far as Damian was concerned. The sudden onslaught of affection from his mother was unnerving at best. Even worse was not having the knowledge of what was expected of him in regards to it. His mother had never been an affectionate woman, and years prior to this situation he would have pegged it as an attack on his person, but now? He was incredibly unsure of how to take things…

He was crammed uncomfortably in his seat between her and one of the guards, forced to deal with the woman carding a hand through his hair much of the flight 'home'. She murmured silly nothings in his ears in Arabic, slowly easing him back into the language, he supposed. He could not bring himself to speak, to respond to her words, and she made no effort to force him on the matter. The Redbird suit felt unnaturally weighted on his shoulders, and his chest and throat felt uncomfortable tight, but he did not have the slightest urge to cry. Something of which he was thankful for as he was positive such a childish action would surely have repercussions.

Had he been a normal child, he supposed he would be staring out the window longingly, hoping that his father was following close behind, thinking of some way to reverse the situation. But Damian was beyond such foolish thoughts. There was no happy ending lurking around the corner. He was stuck.

The majority of the flight was spent wallowing in self-pity, feeling the deep sting of betrayal, and pondering over the intense warmth that spread throughout his chest upon replaying Dick's insistent protest of his father's choices in his head. The man's unwavering loyalty to him despite what chaos he had caused in his life, many times intentionally, left him surprisingly moved. This only increased his depression he found.

He would have given anything- if he had had anything left to give, to have stayed in Gotham. He had not realized just how attached he had gotten to the dark, cold, smog ridden city, not until it was far out of his reach.

His mother's talon-like nails scraped against his scalp, not overly rough, but demanding his attention all the same, and he failed to suppress a shudder. He met her gaze to find her frowning, and she removed her hand from his hair, letting it trail down his cheek, before grasping his chin tightly to hold his gaze.

"Your mind is not here Damian, what is it that you are thinking about, my son?" The soothing tone from earlier had gone it seemed, but Talia's voice was not venomous either, however this did not offer Damian any comfort.

Truth be told, his mind was flitting back and forth between a plethora of topics, all equally distressing, unnerving, and depressing. Nothing that the woman before him would be pleased to hear, yet ignoring the question, staying silent, was a far more dangerous option.

"You have taken me away, uprooted me, from where I was most comfortable…" He began hesitantly. "It is… a lot to swallow, much to dwell upon."

To his surprise, Talia remained calm, and merely continued.

"He gave you to me Damian, of his own free will, with no hesitation."

Damian squeezed his eyes shut, breaking the eye contact with a soft exhale of breath.

"You gave him very little choice, Mother." He murmured.

Talia gave a small huff, and tilted his chin, giving a hint of a smile.

"Bruce Wayne- The Batman, had a choice. He chose Gotham, a dark decrepit city, over his own flesh and blood. He did not fight for you my son, but I did. I fought valiantly for you and triumphed." Talia responded confidently, and at this, Damian met her gaze once more, slumping in her grasp.

"This is… not untrue." He reluctantly agreed, sighing.

And with his agreement, Talia's warm smile returned and she release her grip, patting him on the cheek.

"You are far better off with me Damian, I assure you. At least when you were with me, you knew what to expect from me, and what I expected of you."

Damian remained silent thereafter for the remainder of the noisy flight. Talia commenced petting him like an animal as well.

It was fitting he supposed.

After all, once he returned to the estate, it would surely be like living in a cage.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-