Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jonathan Samuel Kent did not have a soulmate. He never did.

It was a bit disappointing, but not a let down. After all, Kryptonians never had Soul-Mates according to his father. That didn't mean that they didn't fall in love, though. Of course they did. But, they didn't fall in love with someone because of a shared mark on their skin. They fell in love because they wanted to, not because they were obliged to. And, honestly, Jon was okay with not having one.

They felt...almost constraining, if he was honest. Who wanted their soulmate to be decided for them? He'd rather find his own, thank you very much. Not all humans had romantic soulmates, so there wasn't a lack of people to fall for, and just because you had a mark didn't mean that you were inherently off limits. In fact, it was frowned upon, but not unheard of, to get a tattoo over your mark to represent your true love. Fate, or God, or whoever it was handing out the marks, made mistakes. Though, he knew better then to say that.

And yeah, maybe it was just the way he grew up. His dad didn't have a mark either, obviously, and his mom had a platonic soulmate that she talked with on the phone everyday. So, he was never excluded or shamed for his lack of a mark. They still took him out to festivals and outings to the city on holidays. They never tried to hide his abnormality, and he was never told he had to. It simply wasn't something anyone made a big deal out of. Besides, he was Super-Boy. He had more important things to worry about.

However, life never stayed simple for long. And everything changed when he started school.

~~~~

He was home schooled, for a while. They didn't know what powers he had, if any, and weren't a fan of the idea of him unlocking them at school. So, his mother taught him as much as she could. He had school with her, and when he was done he would go outside and play. When his dad was home, they would play together, and try to unlock some of his hidden powers if they felt like it.

By the time he was 7 years old, his parents decided to start sending him to school. He had learned how to control and calm himself down on the rare occasion that his powers arised, and he needed to interact with people his age. So, his 2nd grade year on was spent at Hamilton County Elementary. This did rise one large issue, of course, and it was one his parents dreaded;

What about his soulmate? Or, rather, his lack therefor of?

They weren't ashamed of him or upset he was lacking a mark. Far from it, actually. They just...Weren't sure what was best for him. So, they restocked his wardrobe. Filled it with long sleeved shirts with various designs and fabrics and whatever other variety they could find.

Clark had been reamed out by his co-workers for lacking a mark. It was a miracle Lois didn't mind, it only added to the mystery that was Clark Kent.

They weren't sure Jon would have that Miracle. Nor did they want him to be mysterious. They wanted him to lead as normal a life as possible.

Jon was confused, but went with it. His parents knew best, obviously. They wouldn't get rid of his favorite yellow t-rex shirt for no reason, right? So, he dawned a Red shirt with blue Super Man insignia's on the cuffs of his wrists and a pair of Camo shorts, kissed his parents goodbye, grabbed his lunch, and jumped on the bus.

School couldn't be that bad. He'd make new friends. He looked forward to it.

~~~

It started out easy enough. He was sat in the mid-right of the classroom, next to a pretty girl with grey eyes and Brown hair that matched her freckle dotted skin.

She introduced herself quietly as "Alexandria Jay". He returned the introduction with a handshake, and looked curiously at the Spider-shaped mark on her elbow before shaking his head clear of speculation and paying attention to class.

He took notes rigorously, excited at the prospect of a "Lab" that the teacher had mentioned in the future seeing that the class behaved. He struggled a little with Math, but he could ask his mom later. After that, a bell rang and Jon cringed as the noise vibrated through his superhuman ears and pounded around his skull. The girl beside him frowned in concern and bent down to make sure he was okay. She seemed nice.

He took a few deep breathes and nodded. "Does it do that every time?" He asked, stretching as he stood and grabbed his Green Lantern lunch box (His mom had bought it for him. His dad had pouted a bit, and it made Jon laugh, and then his dad was happy again)

"Yeah, of course. What school do you come from?" She answered, giving him a strange look that he returned with a shrug. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to answer.

"It's no to far away. Wanna go eat lunch?" He asked her, and she nodded and they went outside to-

"Whoa." He whispered, looking at the playground. It wasn't anything special really, just unexpected. Why sink money into a jungle gym when you can send the kids out to play in the grassy field?

"Hehe, you're weird. race you to the swings?" Alexandria offered playfully, already taking off. Jon shook his head and nodded, chasing after her for nearly a moment before he tripped, planting his face into the dirt. He laughed and got up, running to the swing-sets.

Only to be greeted with a scream.

He ran faster, trying but not really succeeding to make sure that he wasn't going faster then a boy should be able to because what if she was hurt? What happened? Was she okay? He rushed over to his new friends side.

"Alexandria! Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Should I get the teacher?" He asked, one question after the other, eyes darting around for the instructer he knew wasn't far off.

"No-no, It-s just-THERES A SPIDER ON THE SWINGS!" the girl almost screeched, and he winced again as his sensitive ears protested the noise. Luckily, though, he heard what she said, and gave a sigh of relief and a small laugh.

"Oh, is that it?" He asked, doppy smile on his face. "I thought he were hurt, you scared me! Do you want me to kill it?" He offered, looking to the swing set.

She gave a rapid nod with eyes the size of saucers, and he shrugged, going over and squishing it. He wasn't really sure what the big deal was. It's just a bug. It wasn't even a spider, it was a daddy long-legs. He chocked it up to 'Girls are weird' and turned back, ready to suggest they continue with their play, only to be met with eyes that he swore he could see little stars in. He was very confused, unsure why she seemed so happy with him all of a sudden. The silent question was answered with another exclamation that rang through the playground and had people staring and he wanted to leave-

"We're Soulmates!" The girl had cried, though it took a second to register because he was to busy trying to find a way to escape all the eyes that were on him, but he did find his voice eventually.

"Huh? Why?" He asked, a bit dazed by-well, all of the events of the last several minutes. He was hungry.

"Well, you just killed a spider! And my mark is a spider! So yours is too, right? And you didn't want to show it because spiders are icky." She stated with a small giggle, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He wasn't quite sure what he should say-

"I didn't kill a spider, it was a daddy long legs. And my mark isn't a spider, anyways." He stated, tone flatter then he was used to but he didn't quite feel like he was there at the moment. He felt kind of floaty, almost, and looked down to make sure he hadn't just learned to fly, because that would be the worst, but no. He just felt..Distant? Unconnected? He wasn't quite sure, but he had other things to consider. Like what the heck is happening.

"But...But..." The girl stuttered, and was she almost crying? With his luck at the moment, of course she was. He suddenly felt really bad, and he shook his head, jumping a little as he felt like he was back in the moment and wow everything was suddenly so Bright and Loud and Vibrant-But that didn't matter right now. He needed to fix whatever he just did wrong.

"Ah, I'm sorry!" was the first thing out of his mouth, though he still wasn't exactly clear on what he had to apologize for, but she was upset so it had to be important. "That doesn't mean I don't want to be your friend, you're really cool! Just...Our marks don't match. It'll be okay." He consoled awkwardly, and, well, he wasn't exactly lying, but it still left an unpleasant feeling in his tummy.

The girl was about to answer, and he grew a small smile, before a boy came through and pushed him aside.

"Did you say you have a spider mark? On your elbow?" He asked, excitedly bouncing in his spider-man hoodie, and the sad light in her eyes turned hopeful as she forgot about him completely.

"Yeah, why?" She asked, cautiously, looking at the sleeves of the boys hoodie. He grinned and pulled them up, revealing a matching mark, and they beamed at each other, and she screamed again-why did she keep doing that, Jon was getting a headache- and the boy smiled and picked her up and dusted her off and they spent lunch together.

And Jon was left alone, sitting on the swing, surrounded by whispers about him he could hear if he cared to listen, filing through the events of the last five minutes as he ate his Ham and Cheese Sandwich.

He ended up deciding it would be best if he asked his mom when he got home.

"Why did me killing the daddy-long-legs matter?" He asked, puzzled, only to be met with amused eyes.

"Oh sweetie. The mark relates to an event that happens when you meet. For example, when I met my best friend, We were taking pictures for a photography contest. that's why our marks are cameras. And the fake marks that me and your Dad got? His glasses? It's because that oaf dropped them the first time we met!" Lois explained with a nostalgic grin and bell like laughter, and Jon couldn't help joining the laugh at his dad's expense. He felt safer with his mom, glad he understood. And, glad his mom made the best cookies, as he took a big bite of one with a smile.

Alexandria and the boy never talked to him again.

~~~~

From then on, he tried to stick to himself. He made a habit of checking everyone's arms when he first met them. If he knew what their soul mark was, he could make sure he never did anything relating to it, so no one thought he was theirs. Thus, when he met Robin, the first time he saw the boy out of costume, he checked his arms.

And didn't understand when he didn't see a mark anywhere.

Chapter Text

Damian was concerned.

It was late at night, and he was 5 years old with blood already on his hands, and he had just been sent to bed when he noticed a small mark on the inside of his wrist.

He frowned and stared at it, a baby kitten the size of a quarter. It looked like it was running, but he couldn't help thinking it was kind of cute. He stamped the thought out though, and tried to sleep instead. It wasn't harming him, so it didn't matter enough to worry about. He could ask his mother tomorrow.

----

"Mother?" He started, cautiously, a few days later as she had returned from her trip. She smiled down at him and planted a kiss on his temple, then continued to walk as he trailed behind her.

"Yes, my boy?" The woman responded, voice silky and strong as she spared her son a glance.

"Mother, there is an odd marking on my wrist, I do not know what it means." He informed the lady, flinching a little and going still as she froze. Did he say something wrong? Was he bothering her? He berated himself, surely that was it, surely an insignificant cat mark meant nothing to her. She couldn't use it as a weapon as far as he knew, and it had yet to inhibit him, so it shouldn't matter.

"Is that so my dear? May I see?" She asked, kneeling down to him, and her voice was deceptively soft. Through virtue of excessive practice, he managed not to shake because he wasn't some weak child and he wasn't afraid of her. Instead, he nodded curtly, holding out his arm and turning it so she could see. He vaguely thought that the angle and position of his arm felt awkward, but dismissed it. He'd been through worse.

For a few (Terrifyingly) tense moments, she was silent. She traced the mark with her cold fingernails without making a noise, lips pursed tightly, and he held his breathe. But then, she looked at him with an unusual sympathy.

"My poor, poor baby boy. We'll have to fix this." She stated, absently scratching at the long gloves that hid a rope marking circling up her forearms.

----

Damien was confused.

He had been living in Gotham for a while now. His father had died, though Drake insisted otherwise, optimistic fool that he was. Damien himself, however, had moved on. It wasn't the first time someone he (begrudgingly, silently) cared about had died. He had gotten grief (perhaps a poor choice of words) from nearly the entire family for moving on so easily, but he never sought out their approval, so it is what it is.

So, reluctantly, he was spending more time with his family. It was at Grayson's insistence, and, much as he loathed to admit it, Grayson was his superior. That would change one day, soon, but he knew better then to go against the authority of the house. It only ended badly, and he was rather content with his current life.

But, he was confused on the concept of a 'soul-mate'.

He had never heard the term before Gotham, and now it was thrown around as casually as any other word. Grayson was teased to 'invite that red-head soulmate of yours to dinner'. Todd, on the occasion he was seen, was requested to do the same. All in all, it had confused Damian.

Not that he would say anything. Requesting an elaboration on what seemed to be common knowledge was a potential weakness for him. He thought about looking it up, but dismissed the idea. His entire "Family" was technologically able, they could be monitoring what he researched. It was obvious few if any of them trusted him.

But, it didn't matter, because another question plagued his mind. This one felt a bit more urgent, and he was surprised he had never asked before, so he couldn't quite stop himself from asking the entire dinner table one night as he stared at the Bat Signal on Grayson's shoulder.

"What is it you do with them, exactly?" He asked, staring at Grayson, as he was the one Damian was speaking to, though he bit his tongue as he felt the rest of his "family" give him varying questioning stares. He probably could have timed the inquiry better, but whats done is done and he wanted answers. Grayson blinked at him owlishly, waiting for something, before answering calmly.

"What do we do with Who, Damian?" Grayson replied with an uncertain smile, and Damian gave a small sigh because who else would he be asking about?

"Your arm markers. You do not kill them due to your moral code, correct? So, what do you do with them?" He elaborated, and he could hear Drake choke on something in surprise in the background, which just added to his confusion, so he opted to focus on Grayson.

Though, Grayson wasn't much better, admittedly. He was staring at Damian with an agape mouth, eyes widened as he picked out his words carefully.

"I'm sorry Dames, I don't think I get it. No, we don't kill anyone. Who are the arm-markers?" He asked, tilting his head and Damian wanted to growl because he had a mark on his arm, he had to know, was he playing dumb? But, before Damian got the chance to explain himself Again, Drake spoke up.

"Dick I...I think he means your soulmate." Drake stated, in a smaller voice then Damien had ever heard the normally confident teenager, and that was almost a little unsettling alone. But, the day he admitted anything Drake did actually upset him was the day he cut out his own tongue.

By now, Damian was starting to regret his choice of focusing on Grayson. He was usually fairly calm when Damian did something he didn't know was wrong. He never wore the cold indifference that Damian dreaded, and faced his possibly odd questions with uncomfortable or bemused laughter and yes, that was annoying, but it was better then the alternative so Damien kept complaints to a minimum.

Now, however? Now, he watched as Grayson's face drained of all color and horror that left a pit in Damian's stomach found a way to replace his usual nonchalance. He looked almost like he wanted to scream at the mere thought, he looked almost angry and-

Damian looked down. He almost flinched at his show of weakness, he couldn't even look at anyone at the table as they stared at him with a shocked silence.

"If by soulmate you mean the one with a matching mark, then yes." Damian admitted before anyone asked, voice still as biting and strong as always despite his body almost curling in on itself. He already looked far more bothered and weak then he ever intended too, he refused to reflect that in his voice.

"Why-Why would we kill them?" Grayson finally chocked out and Damian gripped the seat just a little bit tighter because Grayson wasn't supposed to sound like that, it was wrong. He contemplated shaking it off, dismissing it as his attempt at a...prank, or a joke, or something believable, and never mention this again.

But he was the heir to the demon and the son of Batman. If an Acrobat's shaky voice could scare him off, he deserved neither title.

"Because they are your ultimate weakness. It would be foolish to let them roam free." Damian stated, feeling a fleeting pride at how casual he sounded.

Grayson gave a sharp inhaled breath that was copied in one way or another by the rest of his family, and he finally looked up. He glaced around the table, gauging everyone's expressions. Drake looked like he was going to be sick, fingers tapping a steady beat on the table. Todd had gritted his teeth and looked angry beyond all measure. Grayson looked petrified, or sad, or sick, or Damian was losing his touch and couldn't focus on Grayson long enough to get a good read on him, so he moved on. Brown looked blatantly horrified, Cain looked sorrowful and almost like she pitied Damian, and Gordan was a perfect mix of the other two females.

"You Killed your soulmate?" Todd finally broke the silence with an almost growl, and Damian gave a small sigh of relief beacuase anger was normal for Todd and everyone else was acting so abnormal, he latched on to the familiar seething.

"I suppose so." Damian admitted, deciding that yawning would be trying to hard, despite how emotionally exhausted he felt.

"When?" Todd continued, and it almost felt like an interrogation and Damian almost laughed.

"My tenth birthday. My mother had scoured the globe for hi-" He bit his tongue, deciding against specific pronouns, he still wasn't sure what this all meant, "For them. Killing them was my birthday Challenge." He stated, glaring down at the mashed potatoes as he recounted the event. It had hurt him, and he had cried for days though he wasn't quite sure why. But, his mother had promised that anything else would have hurt worse, so he buried the pain and moved on with his training.

The table returned to a tense silence, Damian chewing on the inside of his cheeks like they offended him personally.

"Perhaps I asked the wrong question. I was unaware exactly how little I knew about the topic. What is a soulmate?" Damian tried, desperate for answers. Grayson took a deep brethe and Damian's eyes flitted to him expectantly.

"A soulmate...Is the person or people that are destined to mean more then anything in the world to you. Marked as the most important person in your life, when you finally meet." Grayson explained, and his voice sounded dull and sent a chill down Damian's spine, so he nodded stiffly.

"I see." He lied because he really didn't, didn't get why this was so much different from the speech him mother had given, but he really just wanted Grayson and the rest of them to go back to being normal, so he excused himself to his room and was simply thankful that his father was off planet and not present for that disaster of a dinner.

He distracted himself with painting, and planned exactly how he was going to give Jon a surprise visit as a bus driver. He had a feeling he would need a break from his family, and they from him, after this night.

Chapter Text

Jon didn't understand Damian.

Damian could drive. He could teach a science class. He could fight. He had a pet demon-thing. He didn't have a soul mark. He had a giant family that he rarely spoke of. He was a genius. He was only 13.

But, there was one question that Jon couldn't get off of his mind. Where was Damian's mother?

Sure, he had a family. at least 3 brothers and 1 sister, and even then Jon felt like there were people he wasn't aware of. He paraded around and relished in the fact that he was the son of Batman, and was bound to take his fathers place one day. Heck, Jon had even recalled him mentioning being 'the grandson of the Demon', whatever that meant. Jon had heard passing mentions about his cousin from his short time with the Teen Titans.

But, through all of that, he had never heard a thing about his mother. He knew Damian had one, he had to have one. Damian had even mentioned her jokingly (Jon hoped) when he talked about the death of his tutor. If Jon listened carefully, he could hear a murmur of 'Mother would not approve' when he did something normal like playing video games or knocking on someone's door instead of sneaking in. So, Jon knew that the woman was out there, somewhere. But, that was all he knew. And he wanted to know more.

So, he did what any sensible kid would do. He asked.

Their fathers had orchestrated a 'Bonding Night', to be held once a month. Their 'Bonding Night's' were spent locked in a room with Alfred on standby if they needed anything or tried to leave, and they were left with nothing to do but speak to one another or spend a night in silence. Damian had happily opted for the later the first few times, sitting in a corner silently and just staring at Jon for hours until the sun roe and they were allowed out. However, the insistence of Alfred, Begging of Nightwing, and Glare of Batman, he had started participating in activities with Jon.

Tonight, it was Jon's turn to pick the activity. Last month, Damian had chosen sparring, and they both left with their fair share of bruises, though Damian seemed ready to keep fighting when Jon finally decided it was time to sleep. Jon, however, had chosen something much simpler;

They were building a pillow fort.

They (Read; Jon) had told Alfred with an excitable bounce in their step, and Alfred had only smiled in return. Five minutes later, The man had entered the room with multiple laundry baskets of folded blankets and pillows and stuffed animals, with a try of cookies and milk at the top. Honestly, Jon was convinced Alfred was secretly a meta.

With a warning to not spill the milk and a wish of well doing, Alfred disappeared once again and Damian and Jon were left alone with each other.

"So, what is the objective of your activity again?" Damian asked, materializing besides Jon with a carefully crafted look of nonchalant curiosity. Jon smiled in return, laying all of their resources out on the floor.

"We're making a fort out of blankets and pillows!" Jon answered, refusing to let Damian's attitude ruin his good mood. Everyone loved pillow forts, and it was a great bonding opportunity. He could sneak in a question or two while they worked.

"What is the point?" Damian asked, distaste crossing his face. "It would fail to protect you from an attack, so it's not much of a fort."

"To have fun! Come on, just start building. I picked the activity tonight, so you gotta or its not fair. It'll be fun once you start, you'll see." Jon decided with a nod and a small glare. Why was Damian so difficult?

"...tt." Damian ended and Jon rolled his eyes, but the teen started to work with him as they moved the training equipment around to act as supports, so he counted it as a success.

They had decided to use the rafters and pipes and beams in the ceiling, tying blankets so they would flow down to separate sections of the giant fort. Jon had tried to fly up, hoping this would be the motivation he needed to unlock that ability. But, just as all hope seemed lost, the other boy had grabbed the blankets and, somehow, dexterously made his way up to the rafters with what Jon had chocked up to the ninja magic that came with living alongside Batman.

"So, hey, Damian, can I ask a question?" Jon started off, watching him in only mild awe as he jumped from beam to beam. He was currently hanging upside down from one and tying the blanket to said post.

"I don't believe I could stop you at the moment, seeing as I'm preoccupied." Damian stated, doing what seemed like a shrug though it was hard to tell with his position.

"Well, if Batman is your dad...Where's your mom? I've never heard of a Mrs.Wayne." Jon asked, and cringed a bit at the question. Damian fell silent, freezing for a moment, and Jon felt his heartbeat speed up a bit and Jon scolded himself because he still didn't know how to read others well and had no idea what his relationship wit Damian was. Were they friends, or just partners forced together by their parents? Jon thought Damian was super cool, and he thought they were friends, but if Damian didn't then that was a personal question to ask, right? Why didn't he think of any of this before he asked, he was so stupid.

Just as he opened his mouth to apologize and forget the question had ever left his mouth, hopefully keeping a bit of his dignity, Damian responded.

"I'll answer if you'll answer a question in return. There is something that has been bothering me." Damian offered, and it wasn't really a question but the lilt at the end of the statment was requesting a response, right?

"Okay, I think that's fair." Jon nodded, turning away from Damian and working on the structure of the fort itself. He laid blankets upon pillows upon blankets and so on for them to lay on. If they slept on the floor, it was going to be a comfy floor.

"My mother is alive, just...Separate from my father. Her exact whereabouts are unknown at the moment, but I hear she has a meeting in Italy this week." Damian answered, and Jon couldn't help smiling a little. He was glad that his friend hadn't lost a parent as most of the Wayne family had. But, the answer felt purposely vague, and he still didn't know anything about the woman.

"Okay, but what-"

"tt." Damian cut him off, seeming to seethe a bit as Jon spoke again. "The deal was we each get one question, Kent." Damian reminded him with a glare that would bother Jon more if he wasn't used to it. Instead, Jon nodded and made a quick apology, waiting for Damian's question.

"..Where is your arm-" Damian shook his head, cutting himself off and starting again. "Where is your soul-mark, Kent?" He asked, and Jon froze, biting his lip as he considered the response.

The first answer that came to mind with returning the question, because honestly Damian should have one, and Jon was fairly certain of that. He'd never met someone without one, besides fellow extra-terrestrials.

However, he chided himself for the thought. He only got one question, right? It wouldn't be fair to ask another. Besides, it would be obvious he was changing the subject. Damian isn't a school friend he could distract with a snowball, Damian would laugh at the poorly attempted diversion and ask again. He could always lie, but...He had a feeling that wouldn't end well. Even with his limited experience with them, Jon had learned one thing about the bats; you can't keep a secret.

So, he opted for the truth. His mother always tells him that 'Honesty is the best Policy.'

"I don't have one?" He answered, though it sounded more like a question and he sighed. His heart was hammering in his ears as he rubbed at his bare-arm nervously. He wanted to tell Damian, But he'd never really told anyone on purpose before. There was always the looming fear of rejection. It was why he felt he'd very much rather finish the fort in silence then continue, thank you very much.

"Well, aliens don't have them, ya know? J'onn doesn't either, Dad said so. Soul-mates are just a human thing." He clarified, continuing to chew on his lip as if it had personally offended him. He couldn't tell if he was dreading or hoping for a response, but Robin remained silent. He finished hanging the blankets from the rafters, and they separated sections of their fort as well as surrounded it. Instead of having a roof, they just had tall walls, and Jon couldn't help but smile because he'd never done this before. School friends weren't often friends outside of school, especially when he was afraid of someone learning through family portraits and such.

"I wasn't aware." Damian answered, finally, as he sat on the floor besides Jon. Still biting his lip, Jon tried to seem relaxed, because Damian wasn't getting rid of him. Even if Damian wouldn't be his friend even more, Robin was forced to be his partner. Damian seemed to notice something was off, because he gave Jon an odd look, as if he had grown a second head and Damian wasn't quite sure how to tell him.

"Are you okay Kent? You're tense. If I said something wrong, I'd rather work it out with you then get scolded by father." Damian stated and it was almost kinda cute (cute? really? what was wrong with him, now was not the time) how Damian was so obviously trying to keep a concerned tone from creeping into his tone. Or, maybe Jon was just hearing what he wanted to. He always was an idealist.

"Ah, yeah, I'm fine...Just..Does it bother you?" He asked, unable to look at the older boy as his hands fidgeted and he couldn't stand still and his idealism had been tossed out as he ran worst case scenarios, because of course he was bothered, Jon was supposed to have a mate, everyone was. Jon had never really minded not having one, but that was clouded by the doubt of a conflict still recent in his mind and why was Damian not answering, what did he do wrong-

"What, your lack of a...Soul mate?" Damian responded, sounding a bit confused at the aspect. It was odd, that the word 'soul-mate' could sound so unfamiliar to anyone, as everyone was always talking about them. Damian had even seemed to forget the word for a second, and that was almost scary because Damian was always sure of what he was saying and it was the second time he had stumbled on the concept.

Jon was getting off track though. He could add that to the mountain of other unanswered questions because, honestly, he had a more important thing to focus on. He didn't trust himself to speak, so he bobbed his head as an answer.

"No, not at all. I fail to see why it should, actually. It just eliminates the possibility of us being bonded by fate." Damian stated simply, dunking a cookie into his mild as Jon had recently taught him to do, and Jon relaxed as he took a cookie of his own.

It was fine, Damian wasn't mad. Perhaps Crystal was just wrong. Because, really, who was he to disagree with the son of Batman?

"Oh okay. Hey, we need to name it!" Jon said, not even caring how blunt the change of topic was, simply eager to move on.

"Name what?" Damian asked, puzzled as he looked the room. Did a new pet sneak into their room?

"The fort! My dad had a Fortress of Solitude, and everyone thinks that's cool. You'r dad has the 'Batcave', and it sounds super lame but everyone likes it anyway. We should name our superhero hideout!" Jon smiled, every word making perfect sense to him.

"But, this is not a Superhero Hideout. At best, it is a carefully crafted pillow pile. And the Batcave is not lame." Damian refuted, thankfully going along with the new conversation.

"Well, not yet. And not anytime soon, I guess. But, it could be one day. So, we should name it. You can never start planning the future too early." Jon stated as if it were obvious, and Damian gave a reluctant huff.

"Fine. What would you propose?" He asked, and Jon could pretend he didn't sound dreadfully curious.

"Hmm...Maybe, the Fortress of Friendship?" He offered, and Damian scoffed.

"Please. You only wish to name it that for the sake of copying your father. It's like I saying we should call it the Friend Cave."

"Well, this is a fortess, so at least mine make sense. It obviously isn't a cave." Jon pointed out, and Damian seemed to get an idea.

"What was that childish game you taught me?" He asked, and honestly with Damian's standards of 'childish' Jon couldn't begin to guess which one he talked about. "It was...Rocks scissors papers, or something of the like."

"Oh, Rock paper scissors?" Jon offered, beaming as Damian snapped his fingers and nodded.

"Yes, that. We could play, and whoever wins gets to name it." Damian challenged, raising a fist and a palm along with Jon.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors, Shoot!" Jon and Damian chanted together, competitive glint in their eyes.

"I win. Fortress of Friendship it is." Jon gloated while his companion glowered, but didn't argue.

They had lighter conversations after that, where Jon taught him things everyone should know like the complicated hand games of a schoolyard or tongue twisters or childish party games and Damian taught him how to play Sudoku or write Haiku's or the basics of another language. Both boys fell asleep, smiles mirroring each other, though one would never admit it.