No one gave me ideas, so I went ahead. Title says just that, but read and find out what happens.
I've been plagued with self-doubt in terms of Bad Parent Bruce, along with being passionate about my work without name-calling, uncalled for criticism, and wrongful entitlement mostly from guest reviewers for any reason. Which made it just as difficult to write this chapter.
Warning: LOTS of tears and death, family dynamics - some breaking apart, others staying together.
Chapter Two
Tragedy
Bruce Wayne was a goddamned son of a bitch in the end.
Kristine Todd cursed him in her mind and heart even now as she held her husband's hand and their daughter at her other side.
They were all in the hospital, and yes, Sierra was with them.
Nowadays, ever since Damian did his thing, Bruce would just sleep nearly all day in his room or not come down at all unless his granddaughter was there. It was bad enough Kristine had to put up with that bastard, but if her daughter kept him in place, then all was good. Still, she and Jason didn't trust him feeding poison to their child when they weren't around, so that was why the supervised visits were in place, too. This time, Alfred had gone in that morning to check on Bruce, to give him his morning doses and his breakfast, but when he did, there was that large letter and the flash drive on the nightstand, accompanied by the howling of Ace, and all hell broke loose.
~o~
"Mama! Daddy! What's going on?!"
"Sierra, don't look!" Jason shouted, dropping to his knees and scooping her up, letting her bury her face into his shoulder, as the paramedics wheeled Bruce away on the gurney. Their efforts at home were in vain, so they had no choice but to let him be taken to the hospital. That meant they had to talk amongst each other about what they'd have to say because uncomfortable questions would have to be answered.
She looked up at her uncles as they hurried to join, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "Wh-what's wrong with Grandpa?" she whispered, then glared at Dick who shrunk away.
"He...he..." Now Dick who always knew what to say was at a loss for words. Damian took it upon himself, though you could see his body language: he wanted nothing more than to collapse and lose control of himself.
"He's sick, little princess. We did everything we could, from what he taught us, but now the imbeciles at the hospital have to pick up the slack."
"Damian!" everyone scolded him, silently cursing him for his insensitivity.
Outside, the ambulance sirens were muted until they all piled outside, watching it go after promising to follow them to the hospital.
~o~
"How could he do this?"
They were in the waiting room, waiting for the word, and there was nausea, rage, betrayal, grief, and fault in the air. Barbara took Sierra away for the cafeteria while the rest of them vented towards each other.
Jason held onto his wife, who latched onto him and buried her face into the crook of his shoulder. Dick and Alfred were both sitting down across from them, the butler straight-backed and showing no emotion other than the mist in his eyes, showing how old he really was. Clark's expression was nothing short of worry, and neither was Diana's, though the latter was more furious than scared. She was the one to demand why Bruce would do this to all of them - actually, more to Sierra, it seemed.
Bruce took the entire bottle of his medication. He wanted to die on his terms. And hours after Dick got on his ass for us.
"He was being a coward, taking the easy way out," Jason snarled against his better judgment. And from there, it escalated heatedly.
"I told him that he should have made Sierra leave as soon as she went to him," Dick croaked, covering his face. "Everything - that was the last thing I said to him!"
"And what else?" Kristine demanded, both hands out in front of her in exasperation. "Why you think he did it? WE led him to this? It's been over ten years, and what did we get out of it? He's no longer running things, and it looks like our baby's kept him in line. Guess because we got what we wanted, he couldn't take it anymore."
Which boiled down to this: Bruce took matters into his own hands to escape from the prison he once called home. His granddaughter was his only source of comfort, but when he finally got brief alone time with her against the rules, Jason had never seen anything so green than when he was still under the aftereffects of the Lazarus Pit. He had been so ready to cut the bastard's head off while he was defenseless. That man wasn't his father anymore, and they'd all been complicit in making everything his fault, which it had been.
We all got what we wanted, took everything from him after everything he did and didn't do...but it was never enough. I thought there was happiness gained, and there WERE some moments, but it wasn't enough because he was there, like a dangerous animal we had to keep locked up at all times.
They were all planning to lock him up in the worst of the resting homes and not have to deal with him anymore, but thinking about that made Jason sick to his stomach. They'd been here for hours now, and no word on progress.
"So what do all of you intend to do once he pulls out of this, if at all?" Diana demanded, arms folded across her chest. "Just feel sorry for yourselves like he would? I loathe myself enough as it is, I have no regrets about taking you out from under his thumb, Jason." She paused and took a deep breath, exhaling. "Every time I took part in viewing his every step from the Watchtower...I felt some shred of guilt..."
And now Clark spoke, looking up at the ceiling. "It's okay to feel he wanted to take the easy way out," he said after a long moment, "but we might have driven him to this."
"And what if he pulls out of it?" Damian demanded. "I'm finished helping him if he does. It's bad enough living under the same roof with him. Grayson -"
"We'll worry about that after we hear the update," Dick snapped, then flinched in regret. "Sorry. Shouldn't have said that."
Jason didn't trust himself to speak anymore. Guilt with themselves was present, but so was anger at Bruce for doing this to them, and to Sierra. What were they all going to tell her if Bruce was - what would he tell her himself if he made it?!
Then the doctor showed up, face grim, and that was a telling sign before a single word was spoken.
~o~
The Wayne family wasn't spared as soon as the word got out immediately that Bruce Wayne, billionaire and fallen prince of Gotham, was dead barely halfway through his fifth decade.
It was Alfred Pennyworth who demanded the family grieve the loss before a press conference to answer any questions about the nature of the suicide since the whole world knew of the overdose.
The funeral was for show, mixed with those who missed getting pockets lined up and those who were glad a child abuser was gone. The flower arrangements - the closed casket spray, photo wreath, and ground bouquets - consisted of a peaceful white and green color scheme, with creamy roses, green hydrangeas, myrtle, bells of Ireland, fern, cymbidium orchids, and snowy mums. And as to be expected, not just because it was common much of the year in the city, it was a downpour of strong, negative emotions. The only audible sound of crying came from a little girl who held onto the picture she'd drawn days ago and showed the first person in her family that was least expected.
The very same little girl harbored immense resentment towards much of her family nowadays, choosing to avoid talking to them like she used to, except for a scant few of them.
The press wasn't allowed to ask her any questions since she was just a child.
In private, she'd screamed at all of them, blaming them even though she had no idea the entire story.
"I HATE YOU ALL! You hurt him! You don't do this to family! I'll hate you all for the rest of my life!"
She would have been berated, but no one had the strength at the moment, at least until the funeral services were over. She was in the living room, reclining on the sofa in front of the television. The only people she really wanted around her were none other than -
"Thought I'd bring you something, princess."
Sierra Todd sniffled and burrowed into the pillow she clutched onto. "Not hungry, Auntie Di," she mumbled, refusing to look at the woman who sighed and sat down on the other end of the seat. "Not even for Alfie's brownies. Too sick to eat."
Diana looked down at the plate the old butler allowed her to bring to the child. "I think it's long overdue that you knew something," she said softly, planning to come clean further in the future, but she was going to tell her as much as she could. "Bruce was a good man once, but he's done things that we all had to get together and stop him. It's something your parents should tell you, but we've talked about coming clean to you one way or another since you're old enough to begin to understand these things."
It's guilt, but we all owe it to her - and we now owe it to Bruce after what we've done to him. It didn't help that she told almost all of them that she hated them, and to even glimpse the last drawing she'd made - her being the only one reaching out to him - was a condemnation from the gods.
Sierra was now looking at her suspiciously. "What did he do that our family hated him so much?"
~o~
"Please, find it in yourself to forgive them," Jonathan Crane told his granddaughter when it was the two of them along with both of her parents because it was more fitting.
They told her everything except the vigilante life.
Bruce Wayne hadn't been a good father and used to hit his sons whenever they said or did something he didn't like, which was as close to the truth as possible. He hadn't been happy that Jason, his long-lost son he'd believed to be dead, wasn't the one he knew before - thought he knew - and shunned him, as a result. This was where Sierra had to learn that parents had to love their children no matter what, but unfortunately, not everyone was capable. Thankfully, Diana Prince was there. She took Jason as her own, which was why she earned the title of honorary aunt and secondary nana.
"Forgive you?" Sierra shouted. "You all did this to him! You say he was a bad man before? He wasn't while I was growing up, but I never got to know him because you wouldn't let us get to know each other! You kept him caged like a bird."
Jonathan sighed and shook his head, looking in the direction of his son-in-law and his daughter. Jason and Kristine had a glisten in their eyes because that was how a parent felt when their child told them directly or indirectly that they hated them.
"I don't trust any of you right now...except Auntie Diana and you, Grandpa."
She was saying it out of denial of what they'd told her, but it didn't lessen the pain. She had only seen Wayne's good sides, never been exposed to the worst because the lot of them kept her sheltered, and away from the horrors of the city, keeping to an area that didn't get affected much of the time. She had a better childhood than her father had, and Jason had wanted that for her. Jonathan didn't disagree; he managed to give her mother better with what little he'd begun with.
"Child," he said sternly, and she held her breath as she looked at him, ignoring her parents holding onto each other, Kristine burying her face into Jason's shoulder. "Listen to me good and well." Jonathan then took her by the forearms, taking great care not to hurt his granddaughter. "I understand precisely what you're feeling. We all do, and all of us need time as much as you." He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Bruce Wayne had been a good man, but after losing his mother and father when he was barely your age, all he had was Alfred, the butler. A butler who did the best he could, and that meant Bruce could have accepted help if he wanted to, from friends, loved ones, or professionals, which isn't a shame. I specialize in that field. He refused everything, used all around him as a crutch to avoid the problems and wrongdoings that came with his actions. Your parents and uncles were the brunt of that, and so was I. We paid for his abusive tendencies.
"Your father had gotten the worst of it. That's a story he will tell you himself, but know we were protecting you. We did everything we could to make sure he didn't return to the man he was before, but we all agree we led him to it. So, we'll all take responsibility for it."
She threw herself onto him, sniffling. "Uncle Dick...that day..." She hiccupped. "He hates himself most, doesn't he?"
"He does, baby." Kristine came up now, stopping behind her for a moment, wondering if she should comfort her daughter who made it clear she hated her, but Jonathan knew better. Sierra was just ten, and everyone said something they never meant and regretted it later. He was gonna warn his daughter that when her child became a teenager, things would get a lot worse. "He's never gonna forgive himself. All the things he said to him, threatening to put him in a rest home...sometimes those things happen with other people."
Sierra looked up at her now. "Bruce really was a bad man, was he?" Kristine nodded.
"He was towards the end of his life. He could have had a change of heart, because of you, sweetie, but we were all too blinded to see it."
"Yeah, peanut, me most of all," Jason added, joining their little group. "He messed up with me and your uncles, but you were his second chance to get it right. We drove him to that. But we're all gonna be the best we can from here on now."
A guilt to live with for the rest of our lives.
~o~
Jason told her everything, but not the vigilante shit. That part of their lives was over.
Gotham itself was still shit, but capes were now forbidden just like putting on a costume as a Rogue.
He told her that Bruce was once his dad after losing his old family, his sperm donor being a major asshole - he didn't sugarcoat jack since she was old enough to know about these things - but then he was almost killed overseas, presumed dead by everyone in Gotham, and it irreparably changed him. He'd been taken in by Talia, and living with her as well as learning what kind of man Bruce Wayne became after his "death" also changed the man. Nothing was the same between them even after Jason returned home.
Bruce's letter would forever be burned between them, except for the young girl.
"I see I no longer have a place in this world, so I'll spare you all the trouble and go through with this, spare you the burden. Sierra is the only regret I have leaving behind. Just please keep her safe far better than I ever did for any of you. That's what makes you different from me. I was never the best father, not even an okay one, as you said once."
Sierra started crying at this. "I'm sorry, Daddy." She put her arms around his shoulders then, weeping into his shoulders.
"I've tried so hard to be the good father I never was, but none of you emotionally gave me the chance. I suppose nothing's good enough for you now like I finally admit it hadn't been for me."
Bruce's actions would have left them permanently divided if not for Sierra being there, needing all of them even if she claimed to hate some of them now, and they had snapped at each other a few times she'd walked in on them and began crying. Alfred and Diana were the ones to bark at everyone to get it together, because there was no excuse, and no one except the child was innocent.
Resurrecting Bruce was out of the question. Jason won that argument because of his own experiences despite Damian's conflicted argument. Kid hated caring for the father he'd paralyzed himself, yet it turned out he still loved him despite the hatred in the final years. Plus, if the Lazarus Pit were -
"Just don't bring me back to life with the Pit, for ANY reason. I'll find out the hard way how you felt, Jason."
Talia, surprisingly, joined in and forbade anyone from dunking Bruce's corpse into the venomous green waters without her permission. "I wish no more reviving the dead," she'd said icily. "Only when someone is on the brink, but that is it."
She made that call because no one deserved prolonged suffering, and it was the least she could do after her father's corruption from the man he'd once been, Jason's return, and so many other things.
"I've felt this way for a while now, lost track of how long it's been. I guess I have lost my touch. You all got what you wanted. I still love you, have tried to be there for you, but everything got to me. I don't want to keep going like this. I should have soldiered on for my granddaughter, but you have all kept me from the real second chance I had. I accept that I failed with all of you, but I refused to do the same with her. Now I might have finally done that. I regain the freedom that was taken from me, I'll see my parents again even if they are disappointed in what I've become, but you're all better than I ever was. Show it to Sierra."
The letter finished with the damning words I love you and instructions for all of them to do as they wished. He didn't even call Jason son, not even Dick and Damian. Bruce had the pride to withhold that, out of fear of destroying himself and being weak. Shit, even in his last moments, he was too scared of himself.
Kris was right when she said Bruce was a goddamned son of a bitch, when it was just them.
But they were not innocent, either. They drove him to OD, and it reopened the old wounds when young Jason found Catherine in the bathroom. He would never know if Bruce thought of that or not.
Damn it, Jason broke, holding his daughter in his arms. He hated Bruce for doing this to them, but at the same time, he was so sorry they'd turned around and caged him, resulting in him retaking the control he'd lost. He had reunited with his parents; half of Jason prayed they were disappointed in him.
He also knew that Bruce's blood would always be on their hands, yet Jason wouldn't regret breaking from the old man's control and gaining the family he had now.
~o~
No one wanted to live in Wayne Manor again. It was a tomb instead of a home. Always had been, always would be.
Predictable in the will, the CEO position of Wayne Enterprises had gone to Damian, who bitterly accepted it but promised to undo as much of the damage brought on by his sperm donor.
The cave was cleared out and sealed away after years of careful planning and finishing the mission that was never theirs, to begin with, but they made things better for Gotham than Batman ever did. Now people would stop being afraid of their own city.
They'd pushed Bruce to the edge, unwittingly resulting in him overdosing to escape imprisonment, but at the same time, they were free from his overbearing presence in their lives. In the public eye, there were those who called the dead man out for taking the coward's way out, while others said good riddance.
It would take some time, but eventually, as Sierra Todd grew up, she finally understood why her family kept her near yet far away from her other grandfather.
You guys can judge me if you want, but I was trying to humanize everyone here. Good and bad in all of them. Bruce had been the worst father to all of them, then with the position he was in, ten years went by, the others continued to vilify him, and Sierra was the only good thing that brought back that ounce of good in him, except he was prohibited from being ALONE with her out of fear he'd poison her against them.
Ideas for the next chapter where Bruce LIVES?
Review please, but no flames.
