Bringing My Children Home
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Disclaimer: I am only borrowing the Bat family to practice my art.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Bruce
They were all watchful as they left, but they returned to the Bat wing without pursuit or ambush. Dick had fussed over Damian until the boy got annoyed and went to sit with Stephanie, whose fussing consisted of asking him what he had done on his vacation. When Dick tried to butt in on Jason checking Tim over, Bruce asked his eldest to get them in the air. Now, in the safety of his family, Tim had deflated, as if all energy and emotion had vanished.
In an emotional state, Dick would be the best choice to work with Tim, but when Tim retreated in this manner, Dick's hugs and chatter made Tim flinch. Jason had learned to just tell Tim what he was doing when looking the boy over, which did not get a bad reaction. Bruce had done this himself in Tim's early days, when a situation overwhelmed the boy. There were no wounds other than bruises from the fight the day before.
"You smell," Stephanie informed Damian. "That's your same suit from yesterday."
"We weren't offered a change of clothes," the boy scoffed.
Tim looked up at Damian who was sitting across from him now. He reached out a hand to touch the boy's knee. "Keep close," he said. "Keep close until we're home."
There was no flash of anger from Damian. Instead Damian nodded solemnly.
"Do you think you can sleep?" Bruce asked Tim quietly.
"No. I can't stop thinking."
"Ok, baby bird," Bruce murmured, ignoring Jason's eyebrow. He rarely used the nickname the older brothers used, but Tim always got a small smile on his face when he did. "Do you think you can give a report?"
"B," Jason began, then stopped when Tim nodded.
"It'll be easier than sitting here thinking."
Tim was distant in the report, hardly using first person pronouns if he could help it. No one interrupted with questions. The weight of Tim's parents' bodies in the back of the plane, was on them all. It was easy to fill in the blanks, especially regarding the way the two boys had come to be so protective of each other.
"I'm going to take a nap now," Jason announced when it was over. He tugged Tim onto the seat next to him, and offered him one of his ear buds from his tablet. "You stay there. I need to know you're safe while I sleep. Here, listen to this with me. It's that Gaudy Night Book that Bruce enjoys."
"Lord Peter Wimsey is a well written sleuth from the golden age of mystery," Tim answered. "Besides, you like to read those too."
"Humor me," Jason said.
Bruce left his third son in the care of the second and approached Damian, curled up next to Stephanie. Cass had gone into the cockpit to watch Dick fly. In the escape, or retreat, or release, Dick had not shared Damian, which was good because Bruce had seen Tim was in more need of fatherly help.
"Dick said you were not hurt? Did he actually look?"
"Yes, Father. I was not hurt. Drake said he would fight if they hurt me, and they already knew we could make a lot of trouble, so they let us stay together."
Bruce carefully considered the boy, uncertain if physical affection would be welcome or not. After holding Tim close for most of their journey to the plane, and assured himself there were no severe physical injuries, Bruce needed to do the same with Damian. Stephanie looked at Bruce curiously. Then she sat up.
"I need a hug," she sighed. "This was a long day. Come on, you two. Don't let your favorite blonde feel alone."
There were times when Bruce worried he had made the wrong decisions with Stephanie. It was times like these, when she could demand hugs, so the awkward father and son would hug, that Bruce wondered why he had ever thought she did not belong to his family. Damian crept forward cautiously, and she opened her arms wide. With a half sob, the boy wrapped himself around her. She held him tight.
"Not letting go," She whispered. "Come on, B, you, too." She raised an arm and Bruce swept forward to hold both his newest children tightly. Dick was chattering to Cass in the cockpit, Jason was holding a dozing Tim, and his family was safe.
Talia
Since Timothy had taken his vials with him, they had to draw Father's blood to figure out what the boy had injected him with. Father had not had her clapped in irons, though he promised restitution for her failures in between his bouts of sickness. She said nothing in return, already planning her next moves. Father would require her to disown Damian.
At least it meant Damian would not be dead. Twelve years of planning to use Damian to gain Bruce as her consort, to be able to use his power and intelligence to rise above her father, all was gone. She had anticipated Damian being confused by the Wayne Family, even growing to like it a little, but she had not expected that he would not only prefer his Father, but that he would succumb to Bruce's charity children, especially in so short a time.
"That was ill-planned Talia. Most of Wayne's children came to him when they were eleven or twelve. They all joined his crusade," Ra's said from his bed. "Damian is lost to us. Fortunately, this is not a real set back anymore. Damian has not lived up to my expectations. He has always had the weakness of his father. Had we been able to train it out of him, he would have been great, but too much Wayne blood runs in him."
"Yes, Father. I had hoped I would bring Bruce back, too. A girlish dream."
Ra's raised an eyebrow.
"Timothy Drake is likely going to be a greater foe than Bruce Wayne. It is too easy to underestimate him. His blood line may suit my purposes better."
"You are not going to put a kill order out?"
"No. Before Batman, it had been a while since I faced a worthy foe. Now I have two. I have grown stagnant. This will sharpen me up again."
"I am sorry for my failure with Damian."
"Your disobedience is the greater matter. Damian had already made his choices. I would not have forgiven them so easily. He is a Wayne now. He's not yours anymore."
"Yes, Father."
When at last she was alone, Talia did not shed tears. Damian was lost to her, but she had always had a contingency for if her son was killed or turned. It was true it hurt more than she expected. The child she would commission, a clone of her son, would still not be Damian. The mother in Talia could not help but mourn.
Crystal
When she heard from Alfred that Stephanie and the others were out of town because of a kidnapping, Crystal could not stay still. She checked herself out despite Alfred's assurances. Surprisingly, he met her at the door of the rehab center.
"Miss Stephanie gets the same tone of voice when she won't have her mind changed. I have received a message this morning saying they are all safe and on their way home. They have to stop in New York and file a report in the Hall of Justice, but they will be home in the afternoon."
Crystal nodded, her heart not eased. Gotham had laid claim to Stephanie and Crystal had no more say in what Stephanie could become. Stephanie belonged to Bruce Wayne, to Batman. All the mother could do now was to follow her daughter into that life, to offer her aid. It should not be so easy to do, but Bruce Wayne had made it so, wanting to give one of his children a good relationship with a living parent.
"Mrs. Brown, this is not an easy task you are entering upon," Alfred said. "To be the support of a vigilante can be heartbreaking. They see the worst things imaginable. We see the effects of the worst."
"What do we do?"
"Sometimes all we can do is be there. Sometimes having a home, a safe place, good food, clean clothes, sometimes a little treat. Today, it will be fresh bedding and clothes ready for them, food and a helping hand as they settle back home."
Crystal nodded. "Ok. I chose to do this. Show me what to do."
When they reached the manor, they stopped at the furnished gatehouse for Crystal to put her suitcase in the prepared home, before going up to the vast house. Alfred showed her around the rooms the family used, before they both got to work, freshening sheets, pillows, blankets, digging out favored comfort clothes, setting the favored family room up in a way to permit the family to gather together. They prepared comfort foods from scratch, and by the time they were satisfied with their preparations, they had fallen into a comfortable working situation.
As Alfred was showing her the vast pantry, a buzz startled her.
"Ah, they are home. Let's see what the damage is. Keep calm, Crystal, they may need nothing more than some basic care."
Her heart pounded as she followed him up out of the kitchen into the hall. It was strangely silent as they emerged to find the entire group shuffling their way towards the stairs. Exhaustion dripped off them all. Mr. Wayne had the younger boys under each arm, while her daughter was riding the back of the second boy, a man really, and the eldest son was carrying the other girl in the same way.
"Welcome home, Masters, Misses. Mrs. Brown has come early, you can see. You will find your rooms and clothes prepared. I trust you will all wish to clean up."
They were filthy and smelled of stale sweat. They were also all in costume still.
"I will forgive the no capes above stairs rule this one time, but I expect everything to be taken down stairs. Are there any injuries to address?"
"Just bruises, Alfred. How are you, Crystal?" Bruce said.
"Mom!" Stephanie waved, before sliding off Jason's back. "I smell like stinky boys, but I need a hug!"
"You were sweating too!" Jason taunted, tugging the hood hanging down her back.
"Yes, but Damian and Tim really reek," Stephanie threw over her shoulder. She did smell, but Crystal took the hug anyway, glad to find her daughter looked very healthy for a teenage vigilante. "Glad you're home, Mom! I'll take a shower and come on down. Don't use all the hot water, Cass!"
"Come on kiddo, let's get you cleaned up," Richard said, taking the youngest boy from the father.
"You, too, baby bird," Jason murmured.
"What about my parents?" Timothy asked glancing behind him as if they might be there.
"The Justice League is taking care of their bodies. They will be safe in the Hall of Justice until we can make it public. Come on, you barely slept on the plane."
As the tallest boy pulled the teenager up the stairs, Bruce stayed down, watching them with worried eyes, until all the children were out of sight, and only the occasional echo of a door was a reminder they were even in the vast house. Then the Father turned to the pair of caretakers.
"Jack and Janet Drake are dead. They were lured to Afghanistan as part of Ra's plans for Tim. We don't even have to make a story up. They went to a dangerous place and were kidnapped and killed by terrorists," Bruce sighed, looking as worn out as his children. "Tim outwitted Ra's, which has ended the invitation, and won Ra's' respect."
Crystal's eyes were wide, but she held herself still, and calm. Alfred gently rested a hand on the patriarch's arm. "I will request your attorney tomorrow. Mr. Fox as well. Do you think Master Timothy will want me to arrange the funeral?"
"I'm not sure he's up to making a decision. This is… different from Dick."
"Grief, even guilt, will be normal in this situation," Alfred answered. "Shall I set up the food in the family room?"
"Thank you, Alfred, thank you, Crystal," Bruce said and headed upstairs.
The look on Alfred's face when they were out of sight, matched the pain in Crystal's chest. She may be here for her daughter, but it was clear she would be needed for all of them. Even Bruce held a look on his face that was achingly familiar. It was the face of an emergency room doctor at the end of a lengthy battle to save a life. It was the face of a police officer in a waiting room, wondering if his partner would make it. It was the face of a soldier at the end of a battle.
This was not a game.
They were not playing hero. This was real. Crystal straightened her shoulders. A family needed care.
Alfred
Stephanie was down first, her smile hardly dimmed by exhaustion, though the look in her eyes gave lie to the unaffected mien. She hugged her mother and Alfred, but did not spill her usual story about what had happened, restrained by her mother's presence. Too long she had been the mother's caretaker, playing the cheerful daughter. Alfred filed it away. He would need to have alone time with her, so she could vent, and perhaps in time, if Crystal proved steady, the mother would have the right to hear from her daughter first.
Timothy, urged on by Jason, was next, but he was hardly in a state to acknowledge them, much less give up his burdens. He accepted the cup of cocoa offered him before Jason put a blanket around his shoulders and led the weary child into the family room, where he settled Tim on a couch, before dragging a tv table over. There was not much to do for Jason, whose focus was on Tim. The edge Alfred had feared, from being so close to the Pit, was not present.
Cassandra and Damian came down together, with Cass's arm around Damian, a first. Something important had changed in the last twenty-four hours. The lines drawn in the family between Damian and Tim were blurred. Alfred's chest warmed, and then he smiled as Damian and Cass crawled onto the same couch, and the preteen sat next to Tim. The older boy reached out and put his hand on Damian's shoulder and the younger boy leaned into the touch.
By the time Richard came downstairs, Stephanie had thrown herself onto Cass. The couch was overflowing, but it was obvious they all wanted to be together, so Stephanie leapt up and helped Richard push a second couch face to face with the other. There was some shuffling around until all six of them were sitting, laying, or otherwise in the area. Beaming on the sight of the siblings, Alfred pushed several tables at strategic locations around the nest.
"We should have brought our pillows," Jason muttered.
"And blankets," Cass added with a little shiver. "Gotham is a lot colder than Afghanistan."
"Alright, Spoilsport, I think that's our cue," Richard pushed up. "If you want your pillows and blankets, any traps should be disabled."
"I have already removed all pranks from your rooms," Alfred interjected. "Crystal, will you help me bring their stuff down?"
"Of course," the woman said softly, her eyes resting on the two boys in the center of the pile. Alfred permitted himself a smile. Crystal was finding her place already.
Blankets and Pillows were added to the nest, which had grown again with the plush ottomans, so they were all able to lay down. Hot cocoa and warm muffins were fed to those awake, while they took comfort in being together after the travails of the past twenty-eight hours. Alfred and Crystal came and went, adjusting things to make them more comfortable. Wrapped safely around each other, the tense limbs began to relax, fake smiles faded, terror lines smoothed.
When Miss Barbara arrived, not bothering to ring the door bell, Master Bruce had just come down stairs, carrying his own set of pillows.
"Are you all, all right?" Barbara demanded.
"There are some issues left by this, but there are no severe injuries. I assume you have laid the paper trail for the Drakes?" Bruce asked.
"I barely needed to do anything, just a few extra steps for the investigation to follow. Amanda Waller has offered to provide extra cover, 'as a thank you for the gift of fifty assassins'."
"I cannot agree with much of what that woman does, but she seems to have a soft spot for the Bats. We will have to play nice with ARGUS for a while. Do we have word on Arthur Brown?"
"Not yet, but I doubt Talia or Ra's will support him now, so he'll come out of the works soon."
They both entered the room, pausing to look at the nest full of 'Robins'. To Barbara's disgust, the name Robins was used to refer to any group of Batman's partners, if the speaker did not want to say every name involved. Richard popped up to beam at them and beckon them to join as well. With gentle arms, Master Bruce lifted Barbara out of her chair and settled her in the spot that cleared for her. Then he climbed in himself, sliding the half-asleep Cass a little over so he could slide in between the girls and Tim and Damian.
Once he was settled they gravitated to him. Jason was curled into a corner, his head lying above Bruce's, while he curled around the younger boys. Dick was in the other corner, though he had flipped over so his head was lying on Barbara's legs. Cass lay curled against the back of a sofa, her feet tucked under Barbara, with Steph lying angled against Bruce's shoulder.
Alfred dimmed the lights, listening as their breathing all slowed, as their limbs finally relaxed.
The Family was home.
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