"G—Grandpa?"

…

"Grandpa. Mr. Bruce—Grandpa."

Bruce groaned, squinting into the darkness.

"Grandpa."

He felt someone pat his foot and turned slowly, certain that anyone he'd need to move faster for would call him something other than 'Grandpa'. "What is it?" he murmured.

Terry's little feet pitter-patted on the wood floor as he came around the bed, moving in perhaps unnecessarily close to Bruce's face. "Grandpa, are you awake?"

"I am now," Bruce grumbled, pulling the blankets back and painfully sitting up, his joints aching like always. "My question is, why are you?"

"I had a bad dream," the boy looked at him nervously, his voice a soft whisper. "Daddy died and then I went to his room in real life and he was not there."

"He's working," Bruce kept his voice low as well trying to avoid waking Selina where she lay beside him. "He and your Mother will be back when the sun is up."

"B—because they're Batmans?" Terry asked, his voice shaking along with his body.

"Yes," Bruce confirmed. "It's their job to protect the city."

"But—," Terry's bottom lip quivered as his eyes filled with tears. "Then who will protect me?"

"Might be wise for you to start learning to protect yourself," Bruce suggested.

"Jesus," Selina mumbled into her pillow. "He's four, Bruce. Let him sleep here until they get back."

Bruce watched the boy's eyes light up at the suggestion. "I'm a really good cuddler, Grandpa. I promise."

So Bruce sighed, giving his grandson another lookover—he did seem rather helpless—before begrudgingly scooting closer to Selina, forfeiting the outward edge of the bed.

…Although Terrence clearly misinterpreted that because when he climbed up on the bed, he climbed right over Bruce as well, wiggling into the space between he and Selina.

She sighed, allowing him some room…but Terry evidently had other plans as he took her hand and held it tight to his chest, like another child might clutch a teddy bear.

Selina could feel his little heart beat below her palm—fast and frantic (he really had been scared) …and as Bruce settled back into bed, pulling the covers over the three of them, she felt the beating slow—calm, comforted.

"Thank you," he whispered into the darkness, and Selina breathed in the smell of his soft hair, pressing a kiss to his temple.

/

"Mhm, mhm….mmm…mhm," Daisy nodded sagely, furrowing her brow as she removed the stethoscope from where she was holding it against Harley's boob (despite multiple reminders that's not where her heart was located). She said it was the softest landing spot. So…. there you have it. Nonnegotiable. "I'm sorry, Nana. I've got some bad news."

"Oh no," Harley feigned concern. "What's the matter with me, Dr. Daisy?"

Daisy scoffed, grouchily pressing her glasses to her face (even though there was a strap that went around her head to keep them in place). "That is Dr. Wayne to you, thank you."

"Ohhh, I'm so sorry," Harley quickly apologized. "Of course, Dr. Wayne. How silly of me. Anyway, what's up, Doc? What's the prognosis?"

"I'm…" Daisy sighed like the news she was about to share pained her. "I'm afraid you cannot walk, Nana. I am sorry to say."

Harley clamped her hand over her mouth in exaggerated shock. "Say it ain't so!"

Daisy just shrugged. "It's true. There's nothing I can do." She sadly set her stethoscope aside before walking around Harley's chair and using the handles to push her out of the way. "I am ready for my next patient."

"Ooh, me!" Jo raised her hand from where she was sitting on the tiny wooden chair Pam had crafted for tea parties when the grandkids came over. "Please," she faked a cough. "I'm very sick. In need of immediate medical attention."

"Hm," Daisy thoughtfully narrowed her eyes. "umm…no thank you, Mommy."

"Wh—why not?" Jo was clearly disappointed at her imaginary illnesses remaining untreated. "I'm hurtin' somethin' fierce, Kid! I send you to medical school at 5 years old and this is what I get in return?"

Daisy shrugged again, completely indifferent. "Your case doesn't interest me."

"Alright, well," Jo got up, dusting off her pants (despite the absence of dust). "This is the last time I'm letting you hang out with Grandma. She's clearly been a bad influence on you."

Pam snickered where she sat in the other tiny seat, nursing a tiny cup of tea. "Jolene, Darling, I have green skin. You can't compete with that."

"I guess I can't," she agreed. "But now I'm late to a brunch for Dogs for the Deaf or something," Jo picked her purse up off the tiny table. "Daisy, you're in charge until I get back. Be good, Girls," she pat Pam on the head. "You're in capable hands here with Dr. Wayne."

"Will there be actual dogs there?" Harley wondered.

"Uh—not sure, Ma. But I'll take a picture of any I see."

Harley's face split into a beaming grin, communicating that was exactly the answer she was looking for, and Jo smiled, leaning down to kiss her on the head and turn her back around to face the others before she walked out the door.

"So…" Pam rolled up her sleeve once it was just the three of them. "Do you know how to check blood pressure?"

Daisy frowned into her medical bag. "I don't got the tools."

"Mm," Pam frowned as well. "How about hydration?"

The girl shuffled around in her bag for a moment before repeating: "I don't got the tools."

"Well, lucky you, you don't need tools," Harley cheerily informed her.

"Here, watch," Pam took Daisy's hand to demonstrate and the girl observed her curiously, critically, even. Gently, Pam pinched the skin on the top of her hand with two fingers, and pulled up before letting go, both of them watching as the skin fell back into place. "Hydrated."

"The idea is," Harley explained. "That if you're drinking enough water, the skin should snap back quickly. But if you're not, it will move slllooowwwwllllyyyy."

Daisy giggled. "Slow like a snail?"

"That's right," Harley confirmed. "But, see, the problem is the test doesn't exactly factor in how ageing effects elasticity."

"What's elasticity?"

"It's like a rubber band," Pam told her. "A more rudimentary synonym would be 'stretchiness'."

"So, anyway," Harley held out her own hand. "I drink a lot of water. Grandma makes sure of it, and she is not playin' around. I mean it. So my skin should go back quickly, right? If I'm hydrated?"

The girl nodded ardently.

"Then let's try it," Harley encouraged.

Daisy grinned as she pinched the skin, pulling up just like she'd been shown before letting go. But this time, she pouted. "It didn't go back fast."

"That's right," Harley agreed once more. "Because the older you get, the less elasticity in your skin—doesn't matter if you drink water or not."

Daisy looked…well, disappointed would be the word for it. "That's sad," she decided after a moment of pensive silence. "Mommy said that old people die. Are you…are you gonna die, Nana?"

"Mmm…someday, yeah," Harley smiled kindly. "Happens to the best of em, Doc."

"Well I…I wish it didn't!" Daisy stomped her foot. "I wish it never happened to nobody never and everyone was beautiful for always like Grandma and that everyone that loves each other keeps each other."

Me too. Pam pursed her lips, gently taking the girl's arms. "Some people don't want that, Sweetheart. Sometimes the people we love don't want that. But…" she brushed a ginger curl away from her blue eye. "That's a beautiful wish."

/

"Delilah—Delilah, please." Damian said sternly, pushing her hands away from his eyes as she sat atop his shoulders, but not before he stubbed his toe on a produce display. "Motherf—," Delilah clamped her hands over his mouth now.

"Not in the food store, Daddy," she scolded. Failing to call it a 'grocery store' not because she was especially stupid, but because the place was like an alien planet to her.

Jo snorted as she dropped a few apples into a bag, setting them in the cart she was pushing.

"It's not funny," Damian gritted, wincing at the pain…which likely wouldn't have hurt him at all if it weren't the third time he'd stubbed that particular toe on that shopping trip alone—all thanks to Delilah. "She knows what she's doing."

"Man, you know what? You used to be, like, a really fun as—butthole." Jo saved herself. Her daughter was 6, she'd heard the word 'ass' before…but still associated it more with a donkey than a butt, and they wanted to keep that dream alive for as long as possible. "Mean and sarcastic in all the right ways," Jo told him. "Now you're just…tight. You're a tight butthole and those are really only fun for the guy. Loosen up, Bro." she punched him on the arm. "I do it all the time."

Delilah was giggling (though not at the actual joke her Mother had made) before Damian had a chance to respond with anything more than an eye roll. "My teacher said I'm not allowed to say 'butt' anymore because I called somebody a 'butthead' and that's against the rules, I guess."

"Call him a 'Glutehead' next time. They'll never know what hit them." Jo held her arms up to help her daughter back to the ground and the girl smiled as she obliged her. "Now," Jo knelt down in front of her once Delilah was standing on her own two feet. "You see that shelf over there? With the candy?"

"Mhm," she nodded excitedly.

"Well, I need you to pick out three, alright? One for you, one for your Brother, and one for your Sister." Jo told her like it was a very important mission. "You think you can handle it?"

"Yep!" Delilah exclaimed, running off in the direction of the candy.

Jo sighed with annoyance once the girl was out of earshot. "We're way too fucking rich to do our own grocery shopping."

"It's to prove we're committed to buying local and sustainable. We only have to do it like once a month," Damian reminded her. "Don't get spoiled on me."

Jo scoffed, pushing the cart a few steps forward. "I like how you pretend like I'm Cinderella or something and you saved me from some life in the gutter. My parents' combined net worth is 5million, Damian. This isn't some inspiring rags-to-riches sob story. I was always spoiled," she leaned up to kiss him. "And that being said…I think it's time we hired a new butler. It's hard work maintaining that house, Babe, and we're busy people."

"My Father has done a fine job," Damian told her. "And there's no way he'd let someone fill Alfred's position. That man was more than just a butler to him, Jo. He was all my Father had before we came."

Jo sighed. "Damian, first off—I love your Dad. You know that. Really, the only men more important to me in this world are you and my Brother. But your Dad can barely even walk anymore. And that's with all the longevity meds my Mom pumps into his system. He's moving into 'added responsibility' territory. And that's fine. It's natural and I'm here for it, don't worry…but it might be time for us to start making some decisions about our future…separate of him. I mean—hate to have to be the grownup here, but the older people get, the more they start to resemble children. You've seen Benjamin Button, right? Brad needed as much help from Cate at the end as he needed from Taraji at the beginning."

"Right, because my Father is Brad Pitt," Damian scoffed.

"Uh…he was pretty hot, Dude," Jo laughed. "Not to be weird or anything, but…I married you—fuck, you get the picture. You all look the same, that's not my point. The point is it's scary, I'm scared—scared about both your parents and mine, and I think another pair of hands—at least someone to help with the house—can only be a good thing. Yeah, Bruce will hate us for it, but…I think it's in his best interest. You know it is."

Damian groaned, looking up at the ceiling. "I fucking hate it when you're right, I hope you know that."

"Yeah…must be extra hard since I'm right all the time," Jo gave him a pat before turning to watch Delilah bound back over to them.

"Mission accomplished," she grinned, throwing three Twix bars into the cart.

Damian narrowed his eyes. "Terry and Daisy hate Twix, Lilah."

"Oh no…" she looked concerned. "I wonder what'll happen if they don't wanna eat them. Guess they'll have to give em' to me."

"My perfect evil genius!" Jo picked her up in her arms, hugging her tight and spinning her around.

/

"What's the movie again?" Pam asked.

"Shhhhhhh!" Harley scolded, digging into her popcorn.

"Harl, it hasn't even started yet," Pam whispered harshly. "And this isn't even an actual movie theater."

Karen cupped her hands around her mouth, calling out: "Let's get this show on the road! Some of us have to work in the morning!"

"Yeah, boooooooo!" Courtney agreed, throwing some popcorn at the projector screen.

"Alright, alright, alright," Jo walked in front of the screen, shading her eyes from the bright light of the projector.

"We can't see!" Anthony complained.

"Your head's in the way, Aunt Jo!" Duke agreed.

"Shhhhhhhhhhhh!" Harley scolded once more, this time to the whole room.

Jo exhaled. "Thank you, M—,"

"You suck!" Selina interrupted her to heckle.

"Hey! Barbara DeDrew!" Jo shouted back. "Zip it!"

Selina did, in fact, zip it—although it was clear Jo had only won the battle and not the war. The older woman settled herself back against her chair and popped a few M&Ms in her mouth, watching Jo with a scheming look.

"Listen up, you ungrateful little shits…"

"Ah! Potty mouth!" Terry pointed an accusatory finger at her from the front row.

"Jesus…" Jo muttered. "Here's the deal—I chose this movie for a reason: to teach you all about the true nature of people you interface with every day. For some of you, this film will start you on an intense journey of personal introspection, for others…well…how you take it in, how you process it will differ from person to person, of course. No two experiences are ever the same. But for me…I can say with confidence that I am a different person—even a drastically different person—then I was before I was exposed to it."

"Damn it, Jo! Just press play!" Barbara complained.

"I wish you all the best," she said before she obliged them, taking her seat between Damian and Terry.

The theater was completely silent after the film ended. Not even the children spoke. The only sound in Wayne Manor's home auditorium was Jo chomping on her popcorn, looking at the audience instead of the screen. She shut it off after the credits had finished rolling and just watched, biting down on her thumb at the look of horror on her Mother's face.

"Wh—" Pam tried to speak. "But wh—,"

"I don't, umm…I don't feel well," Anthony's voice sounded strangled in his throat. "I don't think I'll ever feel well."

Silence enveloped them once more, and it was Bruce (sometime later) who formed the first coherent sentence.

"I don't have a Bat credit card!" he yelled. "I don't—that's ridiculous! They think I could just walk up to a bank and open an account without providing them with any personal information other than 'I'm Batman'?! and they just made a movie assuming my true identity was Bruce Wayne?! That's slander!"

"That—that girl was awful!" Barbara angrily stammered. "I'm not Alfred's niece! That doesn't even make any sense!"

"And I'm not…I'm not…" Dick was having a difficult time voicing his complaints as there were clearly too many to get out all at once. "Nipples, why the—nipples."

Jo's attention was still aimed squarely at Pam who was now staring—dead-eyed—at the blank screen in front of her. "Anything to say, Mom?"

They all turned to look, and Harley waved a hand in front of her wife's face, which Pam didn't even blink at.

"M—m—m—monkey," was the first thing Pam said, her jaw shaking as she spoke. "That's not—I'm…I'm sexy…that's not—I'm not—monkey. I'm not monkey, I'm sexy, I'm…monkey with ice cream on my—my head. But I…" Pam's eyes were beginning to fill with tears. "I like Kill Bill, I—I like Kill Bill, I—why would she…"

And…Selina couldn't take it anymore. She sat forward and burst out laughing. "OH MY GOD!" she wheezed. "Holy shit! That was incredible, just…incredible," she stood up to clap. "Adam and Evil, you and Freeze oh my God," she wiped a tear from her eye. "Thank you. Just…thank you. Thank you, Jo. You were right. I am forever changed."

Pam just blinked, attempting to regain her footing. "I hated that," she muttered. "That was…that was the worst thing I've ever seen. I hated that. Everything about it. I hated everything about it."

Harley cleared her throat before gently leaning into Pam's ear. "Honey, the Woodrue depiction…are you alright? I mean, portrayal of you aside, are you OK?"

"Why would I…" Pam was mumbling. "Why would I team up with Freeze? His goal was always contradictory to mine, nothing can grow if—,"

"OK, good, you seem fine," Harley pat her on the shoulder supportively. "Let's watch the one where Cat's a blonde next."

"A what?" Selina sat up straighter. "I would never!"

Jo laughed maniacally. "Oh, but you would, Kitty. You would!"