Chapter Text
Seven years ago
It should never have happened. Maybe it would never have if they had not been so certain they were going to die.
Everyone’s comms were out of range, their levels of oxygen were dropping at alarming rates without reason, none of the messages - distress calls would be more accurate - they had tried to send had been answered to.
It had started with a recon mission which had turned into a bad fight on a solitary planet and Hal had used too much energy to get them out of it, so the ring had been ineffective and out of order after that. It wouldn’t have been so bad if they could have just gone straight back to the Watchtower.
But then, the ship had started derivating, impossible to control. Hal and Bruce had tried to take the commands but to no avail. They suspected foul play. Hal wondered which wizard-or-witch-of-the-week was trying to kill them. It looked like they were going to be successful because Hal’s ring wasn’t going to save them this time and Bruce and him were only human.
They had sought help too late and had been out of communication range way too soon. Whoever it was who was messing with them, it was a powerful wizard. And a murderous one.
Maybe it would have been kinder to just make a hole in their transport. Seeing the oxygen levels lowering and knowing the reserves were going to be too thin at some point was terrible for your moral.
Their only hope would have been Superman taking a vacation in a nearby place. It was the first time Hal had heard about him taking some time off and wasn’t it very bad timing ?
Sadly, their location didn’t seem a prime destination for exhausted Kryptonians.
So they have checked everything on the monitors several times in a row, they have looked at blueprints until their eyes hurt and tried to make a call to passing ships but they were in the middle of nowhere. Nowhere was very pretty but it was also very empty and it was going to be their tomb at this point.
“Bruce, just stop.” Hal had said after a few hours as Bruce had run some analysis or another for perhaps the eight time.
Bruce ignored him as he was wont to do. He had taken off the cowl and his dark hair was all over the place, which was a strange look on the man. He rocked the unkempt look if you asked Hal but telling Bruce that would have been unprofessional.
Since they were going to die here, Hal didn’t mind that so much but he didn’t want Bruce to tell him he acted unprofessional like Hal was a four year old instead of a qualified pilot.
“No.” Bruce had growled.
Hal figured if Bruce was growling, things could be worse. The familiarity of it was almost comforting but gave Hal the very adult urge to nag at Bruce. It was probably how his brain had decided to deal with the situation to cope properly.
“We are going to die and you need to get over it.” Hal had said a bit harshly, as much a reminder for his brain than for Bruce’s.
“We are not.” Bruce had said, pushing his hair away from his face.
Hal went to put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. He was shaking. Hal squeezed and their gazes met, unflinching.
“Bruce, it’s over. We’re done for. Well, we knew it had to end someday. It looks like it’s going to be today. Working with you has not always been easy but it was worth it, yada yada yada. I am not going to make a damn speech about how despite our disagreements you were a great guy and knowing you had been my pleasure or something. I’d suggest we just relax to make this easier but I doubt it’s going to work.”
Bruce had slumped against his seat and Hal had known then for certain that there was nothing more they could do. He squeezed Bruce’s shoulder once more and was going to go back to his seat when Bruce talked.
Hal looked at him rummaging through his utility belt.
“I may have something that could help.” Bruce said, offering Hal a tablet.
Hal didn’t take it, merely looked at it with disdain, and crossed his arms on his chest.
"I kind of have a bad feeling about this. Cyanide, Bruce ? How original of you. You always have this on you or did you feel like killing yourself before the end of this mission ? Tell me you weren’t the one to sabotage the ship.”
The idea that Bruce had this on him at all time made Hal really uncomfortable.
“You never know. And of course not, idiot.” Bruce said.
“The real comfort here is that you’re still you, right ? So how does it work ? I take the tablet and you just watch me die ? Does it feature in your darkest fantasies ?” Hal asked, looking at the offending tablet.
Bruce shrugged. For once, he hadn’t thought about the logistics of it. He had never really planned to use this, it was more of a security measure he hoped he would never have to use. He had never thought the time would come he may use it, and certainly not the time would come he would hand it to one of his teammates.
“You can knock me out first.” he said.
He didn’t like the idea of being fully conscious and waiting for his death with Hal’s corpse at his side much either.
Hal looked at him sternly. Bruce wondered if he was mocking him by affecting a serious look. It wouldn’t be a first but they were not in a meeting room in the Watchtower. If he was doing this, it was for Bruce’s eyes only.
“Yeah, no offense but no thanks. And I won’t let you take this yourself either.”
Bruce’s forehead wrinkled as he tried to comprehend what motivated Hal’s firm refusal.
“Why ? You said it, we’re as good as dead.” Bruce said.
Hal paced into the room for a bit before stopping right in front of Bruce.
“Doesn’t mean we should poison ourselves and I am not spending my last hours with a corpse. Listen, don’t take this badly, but I’d rather make our last moments enjoyable and I’ve heard Bruce Wayne wasn’t that straight, so if you’re willing…” Hal said softly, leaning against the console.
Bruce’s eyes narrowed, wondering how many of Hal’s words were just for show and how many rang true. It was never an easy task for him to figure out what the man's true feelings about some thing or another were, and he misread Hal’s intentions ever so often.
“Is sleeping with me in your list of things to do before you die ? Flyboys… We’re going to die and all you can think of is having sex.” Bruce had sighed.
He had stood up to be at Hal’s eye level. The man gave him a dirty look.
“Fuck you. I am seeking comfort here, and why did I ask you for that ? Of course you were going to - umpf.”
Hal had stopped talking since Bruce had grabbed his neck and kissed him without a warning. Hal being unprepared for it meant it had been clumsy and not as enjoyable as it could have been.
“Yes. I was going to say yes, stop assuming things about me.” Bruce whispered against Hal’s lips before leading him in the room they used when they needed the rest.
It was barely furnished - a simple mattress needing to be restuffed in a corner and a few pillows.There were clean sheets in a closet. Making a bed with Bruce had an uncanny, grounding sense of domesticity. Hal wondered briefly if Bruce had ever had to make his own bed - he was pretty sure he had servants or something for that.
Making a bed with Bruce felt -oddly- like a rather normal thing to do and that may have worried Hal a little if they had a future where this could have mattered.
The lights were on the lower mode but not turned off completely and Hal appreciated it. After they had finished with the sheets, Hal kissed Bruce again, and soon enough no more clothes were in the way and they were breathing hard - but not because of the lack of oxygen.
Hal had made the math, they still had a few hours, the spell or whatever-the-fucking-witch/wizard-used depriving them of a regular amount of oxygen every damn hour. Not something very nice to think about, so Hal concentrated on what they were doing instead.
The love-making between them had been quite desperate at first and life-affirming but still tender, reassuring. Loving, almost.
“Should have asked for this way earlier, you’re a hell of a good lay.” Hal finally mumbled, his head resting on Bruce’s torso, Bruce’s hand tracing circles on his skull slowly.
Bruce laughed freely and kissed Hal’s head on impulse. Hal let him, almost purring.
“I’ve heard you were taken before.” Bruce said gently.
Light conversation prevented them from thinking too much about their doom but making pillow talk with Bruce had a very strange atmosphere to it - not one that wasn’t welcome, though.
Hal had been dating his soulmate - a chance meeting - for a few weeks but some things had happened and they had decided together to separate for a bit.
Hal had only told Oliver about the break-up, but it had been in a Watchtower’s corridor, which meant it was probably common knowledge for the League. Who would have known that aliens with super hearing and people with spying training were the worst gossipers ?
“Eavesdropping much, eh ? This conversation was for Ollie’s ears only. I would like to be mad at you but the thing is we’re going to die and it really doesn't matter. I don’t want to argue with you.” Hal said, and the last words caught a bit in his throat.
Bruce massaged his skull a bit more deeply and Hal’s loose grip around his waist tightened.
“Hal, it’s okay. We’re in this together. And for what it’s worth, I am sorry we won’t have a second chance at this. I feel like we could have enjoyed it.”
Hal raised his head from Bruce’s chest to better look at him and offered him a sly smile.
“What do you mean ? We’re so doing this again. A few hours is a lot of time, and I am sure you’ll be ready to go again soon.” Hal said, letting his hand travel on Bruce’s body, inciting a sharp intake of breath.
And then they laughed together, and it felt nice. Bruce had kissed him hungrily, a bit rougher than before and Hal had replied in kind, before pausing with a grunt.
“What’s wrong ?” Bruce had asked, scanning Hal’s eyes with his before looking at Hal’s shoulder he had grabbed a bit more energetically than necessary.
The wan light had hid it from him before he took a peculiar interest in it but he was now rather certain Hal’s shoulder was a mix of purple and yellow. Bruce lowered his hand to Hal’s biceps before realizing it was bruised too.
He checked the rest of Hal’s body, resisting the urge to turn him over to check his back. He felt cold suddenly. The bruises weren’t that recent, they hadn’t been sustained during their last fight with hostile aliens.
“Hal ? Are you alright ?” he murmured, sitting up, letting Hal’s head fall into his lap.
Hal sighed, looking up at Bruce - or rather, pretending to be looking at Bruce but developing a fascination of some sort for the ceiling. Wasn’t it a spider in the corner ? Hal shivered. He hated spiders. Disgusting things, really.
What was Bruce asking him about ? Oh, yes. Hal bit his lip, trying to think of something. He would have done so earlier if the bruises were on more visible areas but he hadn't thought Bruce was going to see him naked.
“It’s from my last trip in space. It was a bit of a rough space trip. Some bad encounters but it could have been worse. I should have called for backup, but you know me, the overconfident guy.”
Actually, Hal seldom took unmeasured risks with his life and Bruce was aware of that. Something must have happened and Hal didn’t look like he was going to talk about it with Bruce anytime soon, meaning probably never if you considered their current predicament.
“You’re going to get yourself killed if you keep up with this.” Bruce said unthinkingly.
Hal’s face had become a polished mask - he hated it when Bruce voiced his opinions about anything related to his Green Lantern function - but his newfound lover’s statement made him laugh.
“Too late for that, Spooky. And it’s fine, really. Would have healed in a few more days.” he had said, smiling.
Weeks would be more likely, Bruce had thought.
“So, you kind of killed the mood by treating me like a china doll, but would you like to start again where we had stopped ?” Hal asked, stroking Bruce’s tight.
Bruce’s lips tightened but he helped Hal in a better position for kissing, just doing it more carefully.
He knew Hal had been lying to him and was trying to distract him, but honestly they both needed the distraction. No more arguing. He owed Hal this much.
Some time later, Hal had fallen asleep. Bruce had cleaned them up with a cloth and when he had been unable to find a blanket, wrapped a naked Hal in his cape to keep him warm as he put his own suit back on. Hal’s fist tightened on the thick black fabric.
Bruce checked the monitors once again in the cockpit. It wouldn’t be long before they lacked enough oxygen for it to be dangerous, according to their current levels. Hopefully hypoxia would kill them quickly when it would happen.
He tried contacting Earth one last time. Registered a short message for Dick and Jason, to go with the long letters he had left them at home, which he updated regularly. He registered one more message which went way longer than he had intended for Oliver Queen and another, shorter since he had told many things that would apply to him too in Oliver’s recording, for Barry Allen, both on Hal’s behalf.
A last kindness to the man. Hal deserved as much and Bruce wasn't going to wake him. He was hoping that Hal wouldn't wake again. It was difficult enough to face one's death, Bruce had no doubt watching a friend die slowly but surely was worse. Strangely, that was what they had become, with the years. Friends. Friends who argued too much, but friends nonetheless.
Bruce didn’t register anything for Alfred. Alfred and him had never been a story you could tell with words. He would understand that. He would take care of the boys like he had taken care of Bruce. Leslie too. Clark would also help. Bruce should make one message for him, the man was his friend and was going to feel guilty for their deaths for the rest of his life if he found out he could have prevented it.
Bruce wasn’t angry at Clark for this, though. He couldn’t be on active duty eternally. Sometimes, you had to take a break. Sometimes, it meant people died that wouldn’t have otherwise. Bruce had more or less made his peace with this, but he doubted Clark had.
The man was probably never going to take a break ever again after that. Something on the screens attracted Bruce’s eyes. Just two points, but what if…
Bruce tried his comms again, praying Clark’s had been turned on if they were on reaching range.
“Batman speaking -”
“What the hell, Bruce ? Why weren’t you responding ? I have been trying to reach you for the last 30 minutes ! I have received your message but your lack of answer made me think that you were… that you… that it was too late. I am coming to get you, I’ll be there in two minutes with Diana. How are you both ?”
Bruce closed his eyes. Too many emotions at once. He rubbed his forehead. In the back of his mind, he wondered what Superman and Wonder Woman were doing nearby, but it wasn’t important. He could think about that later. They were not going to die.
Bruce felt really relieved at the thought. He hadn't be ready to die. Not like that, so powerless. If anything, he wished his death would be quick when it would come to it.
“We’re okay. We’re…” he started saying.
A voice in the doorway interrupted him. Hal walked in, barefoot. He was naked and clutching Bruce’s cape against his chest.
“Bruce ? I thought I told you to stop trying.”
His eyes were red. He had been crying, probably. In a few strides, Bruce was facing him. Hal had barely had the time to blink.
“Hal -”
Bruce had grabbed him - staying mindful of the bruises - and kissed him, not minding the comms and what Clark was going to make of this. They were going to live. Hal dropped the cape, looking at Bruce with interrogation marks in his eyes. There was also hope in them, and it was such a good look on Hal.
“Clark and -” he could barely say before Clark’s entry interrupted him.
“Thanks fuck.” Hal whispered, and his legs buckled underneath him.
Bruce caught him before he hit the floor.
“I am going to talk with Clark, put something on and we’ll be back on Earth in no time.” he said, handing him the cape so he could cover himself.
Hal wasn’t modest usually but he put the cape around him and went out of the commands room, saying hello to Clark on his way. It was futile to hide what they had been up to, so Bruce didn’t even try to.
He didn’t say anything about it, hoping Clark would ignore it as Bruce flooded him with information about what happened with the ship, the belligerent aliens, Hal’s ring and the such. It seemed to work at first.
“So, you and Hal ?” Clark asked when his main questions had been answered to and there had been a lull in their conversation.
Bruce tensed a bit. He didn’t know what to say about that.
“Nothing to worry yourself about. We needed the stress relief.” he eventually said.
Of course, Bruce may not have accepted Hal’s offer from someone else, but who needed to know that ? Hal’s return stopped them from speaking more about this.
“So, you both are ready or are we waiting for oxygen deprivation ?” Hal said, and his tone had a frosty bite to it.
Bruce had frowned, looking at the pilot and Clark had looked back between them.
“Diana is waiting for me outside.” Clark nodded.
Another thing Bruce would like to know more about. What had the two been doing ?
The trip back had been uneventful and quick. Hal and Bruce had barely shared a few words in the Watchtower before Hal asked Clark to bring him back home - he still had to charge his ring and apparently couldn’t wait.
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Nowadays
It had happened very quickly. They were fighting some aliens from another corner of the universe that seemed to have decided that vacations on Earth were a good plan, and had settled on a deserted place near Gotham. Hal Jordan had learned long ago that bad taste was a thing universally shared, regardless of species.
Hal would have just asked them to go back to their planet and explained that Earth wasn't used to alien tourists but that there was a nice spa resort on Ju-8, that lovely planet in the galaxy next door, who accepted every kind, Goho's inhabitants included.
Everything could have gone smoothly, but the Gohans there weren't just mere Gohans, they weren't lost tourists but armed warriors. What they had been doing here, Hal would always wonder. Anyway, they hadn't hesitated to attack them and resisted diplomatic discussions.
Tim and Jason had been the ones to find them. They had teamed up on an investigation - Hal still had to get his head around this one - and had found themselves facing the alien soldiers - considering their important number, they had called for backup.
Hence why they - the Justice League and Bruce’s kids minus Damian - had been fighting against a small army of trained alien assassins on a nice Sunday morning. Dick had been visiting the Manor when the boys had asked for backup and Hal had warned the League as they prepared to join the fight.
Luckily, Tim and Jason had been smart enough not to engage before their arrival.
Another good thing was that Damian had been at home under Alfred’s supervision, against his will but away from the battle.
Bruce and Hal had decided that he was too young to accompany them on League’s business and that they’ll discuss this again when he would be at least fifteen or maybe sixteen. Damian had been very much displeased by the discussion then but also very much alive at the end of the fight against the alien soldiers, so that was a win.
The fight had been tough, this alien species they were fighting against was quite smart and they were good at combat training too, it would seem. They also had interesting first grade weaponry which interfered with Hal’s constructs, sucking the energy from it, making them wobbly.
The League had been fighting for hours - and finally winning, from the looks of it - when Hal had to make a choice. He had noticed that the two alien shooters in the periphery of his vision had changed positions and they were targeting Tim and Bruce, probably because they had noticed that they were only fragile humans wearing armors and not metahumans or aliens contrary to their previous targets. It had been happening really quickly, Hal had only noticed because he had wanted to have a global view of the situation and had levitated over the battlefield.
He only had a few seconds and couldn’t protect Tim and Bruce both. He tried, but concentrated his energy on protecting Tim.
The alien weapons were sucking the ring’s energy and Hal always had to put more willpower and energy into his constructs for them to be stable, and the shield he had imagined for Bruce shattered as Hal needed all his energy for the one that was protecting Red Robin.
He barely had the time to realize his nose was bleeding before hearing Barry’s - he supposed it was Barry’s- “Hal !” as he collapsed, barely feeling someone’s arms stopping his fall..
He had woken up in the Watchtower, surrounded by bats and superheroes of all sorts. Too much light, to much noise and too many colors. He squeezed his eyes shut. Why couldn't superheroes all wear black ?
“Is Tim alright ?” was the first thing he thought of asking as he felt himself slip away, very tired.
“You saved my life.”
The voice was a bit shaky but undoubtedly Tim’s, and he supposed the hand that squeezed his was Tim’s too. Hal nodded, his eyes still closed. He didn’t have the energy for squeezing back, much less to talk but he tried nonetheless.
“You’re welcome. Bruce ?” Hal had asked.
He had blacked out again before obtaining an answer. When he woke up for the second time, only Alfred and Dr Thompkins were there. They were in the Batcave, in the part that looked quite like a small medbay, and the two of them were discussing something. He called them.
They went to him. Alfred looked about twenty years older and Hal kicked the sheet covering him and looked for his clothes.
“Is he - is Bruce -”
The doctor led him back to his bed before he fell.
“You need the rest, Mr Jordan. Bruce is - not well. We’re keeping him sedated because of the pain and it will take him some time to get better, if he ever does. I am going to be honest with you, it’s bad. We’ll know more in a few days, a few weeks maybe but if he doesn’t get better, he’s going to die.”
Hal closed his eyes, willing the tears away.
“That’s all ? We can’t do anything ?” He asked, imploring, focusing his eyes back on Dr Thompkins.
He must have made a pitiful sight here, but he couldn’t care less about that.
“He is on his own for this fight.” the doctor said, and she looked tired and sad.
Hal realized she hadn’t much hope for Bruce. He crossed his arms, trying to find some warmth there.
“Where is he ?” he asked finally.
It was obvious there was no one else here.
“In the Watchtower. I wouldn’t recommend a visit, now, Mr Jordan. You’re still weak and Bruce isn’t going to leave. When Superman went to check on you, he said that your teammates were taking shifts at his bedside.”
“You should go back to him, I am fine. How are the boys ?” he asked, and his question was for Alfred this time.
“Quite shaken, sir. Master Timothy took sleeping pills and is hopefully asleep now. Master Dick and Master Jason had a fight in the living-room but I believe they are now eating chocolate cake and playing video games with Master Damian.”
Hal had nodded - bless Alfred, who could run this household with stern glances and cake - and fallen back asleep. He had used too much energy in this fight and needed to get it back to take care of things. It took him two days to be of any use around the house, and two more to be trusted in the field.
The last days had been complicated. There had been so much to do, so much to plan for. Hal had wondered if he could do it, if he could measure up to everyone’s expectations. Old fears never died, he was finding out.
He had taken some time off with Carol’s agreement - and her sad, pitying side glances - but there were plenty of things that had to be taken care of.
First, the kids. He knew it was the number one priority, checking on the kids. Well, it was only his first task and he hadn’t been able to complete it at his full extent.
Damian had closed off and refused to talk to him, which hurt more than Hal thought it would. Probably because Damian was also his son now, if the adoption papers he had signed a couple of years ago with his agreement were anything to go by. And Damian usually talked to Hal about things if coaxed. Well, things weren't his father dying, usually.
He didn’t think he would hear of Damian until dinner at least, like the day before and the day before that, but then Alfred had sought Hal out only a few hours later as he and Dick had been planning patrols.
Apparently, “someone” (from Alfred’s tone, Hal could tell it wasn’t an intruder), had locked themself into one of the parlors (Who the hell has parlors in their goddamn home ? Hal had asked Bruce a few years ago) and was causing disturbance.
Hal knew Alfred wouldn’t have bothered them with anything he could have handled himself, and had followed Alfred out of the Batcave immediately.
When they had reached the parlor, no noise could be heard. Hal broke the door open quickly, worried about what he would find. It had been a reasonable fear, it would seem.
Most of the furniture and ornaments in the blue parlor and a couple of windows had been destroyed.
Hal had taken a single look at the broken glass and wood shards, the slashed sofa cushions and the crying boy sitting in the middle of it all and his heart had broken a little bit more.
Goose feathers and broken china in his hair, the kid was sniffing and biting his hand to choke the sobs. There were minor cuts on his face. Without a second thought, Hal had marched into the room, collected him into his arms and cradled him.
“It’s okay, Damian. It’s okay. You’re allowed to cry.” he whispered into his son’s ear, stroking his hair and removing the glass carefully in the process.
The kid buried his face into Hal’s neck. Damian seldom was receptive to affectionate gestures but if it was the price to pay for it, Hal really didn't mind his son not being as into hugs as most kids.
That night, he had slept on the sofa in Damian’s room. The kid had kicked him out in the early morning, saying everything was fine and he could manage now. He didn’t say anything about having cried himself to sleep the night before or ruined the parlor but Alfred told Hal later than the mess Damian had made had been "mysteriously fixed" before Alfred had the time to look into it.
Hal hadn’t gone patrolling, leaving the task to the oldest bats to take care of the youngest one. Somehow, he had fallen asleep as he watched the kid sleep. He hadn’t been able to sleep well in the last few days, and the rest had done him some good.
He had checked on Damian multiple times in the day - it had brought him some deathly glares - but the kid had looked alright (well, as alright as a kid in his situation could be).
Jason had spent the night here after his patrol and had taken time to spar with Damian in the morning and spent quite some time with him. Hal had the feeling that Jason was the sibling who was more tuned to Damian’s moods.
He had not spoken with him privately yet. Jason seemed to be a master in guessing people’s intentions and had avoided being alone with him all day. Hal could wait. He had no doubt Jason would come to him at some point, but on his terms, not Hal’s.
Tim was glued to Alfred (either because he needed the emotional support or thought Alfred needed it, Hal couldn’t say) and - when Alfred was unavailable or had gotten rid of him so he could have a break - spending the rest of the time on comms or on the phone. He probably needed the noise.
It had been quickly obvious to Hal that none of them knew what he had done - choosing Tim over Bruce - and he was glad for it. Tim would have felt guilty about it and the others may have resented him wrongly. As it was, they just knew that Hal had fainted and fell while protecting Tim.
They may have been quite angry at Hal too if they knew what had happened exactly, but despite all the things they could say, they had learnt to enjoy each other’s company and hopefully they valued Tim’s life more than they let on. Which reminded Hal that he should ask Tim and Jason about their recent alliance.
Dick needed the noise too, just like Tim but differently too, since he needed to be the one to make noise. He was talking all their ears off, probably because the silence was getting uncomfortable for him. Wayne Manor could be described as many things, but silent had not been one of them for some time.
The fact that Tim and Damian had stopped their constant arguing and that Tim didn’t even protest anymore when Dick ate the last piece of toast had not gone unnoticed. Hal missed breaking food fights, and what had his life become ?
There were still people arguing in the house, though. Jason and Dick were at each other’s throats at every occasion, discussing each other’s every move in the field and whispering furiously in rooms’ corners in the Manor.
Hal knew why, had known for some time now despite Bruce’s obliviousness to the whole thing. Their arguments weren’t about Bruce and their family anymore. They were about the two of them.
Which still meant it was about family and Bruce in some way. Hal knew there must have been a catch when he and Bruce had gone more steady, and here it was - he underestimated how complicated this family could get.
He also underestimated how much he would care about all of them. Damian was the only one that was legally his son but he cared very much about Damian’s brothers too. He had seen Dick grow, and well, not really Jason sadly, but Tim too. And they were Bruce’s kids.
If you asked them, many people didn’t even know that Bruce had kids but the man did love to talk about them with Hal. At first, it had been one of the only safe subjects they could talk about without angering each other - when Hal didn't comment on the boys' education-, but it had quickly become a habit. “Dick said this, Jason is doing that, Tim is going there…”
Bruce loved his kids to death. Well, he was dying to prove this so it was rather accurate. And the truth was, Hal loved the kids to death too. That was why he was going to have this conversation with Dick before Jason and him tore each other apart.
Jason had volunteered for patrol with Tim and Damian, probably because he didn’t want to speak to Hal yet, so Hal was in the Batcave with Dick, planning the patrols for the following days. Hal would have to give them a hand again, so Dick could check on his city and Jason take care of his other activities.
Dick was now Batman, and it was a curious thing to witness. Seeing him in a suit similar to Bruce’s never failed to give Hal a heartache.
When they went patrolling in Gotham, Hal didn’t wear his Lantern suit. The Green Lantern must not be linked to Gotham that way, and he was acting on his family’s behalf, not the Corps.
They had put together a suit for Hal from scraps of everyone’s outfits - parts of it had been prototypes or old versions from one of their suits or another - but it didn’t look so bad (and thankfully everything was black, with only a scrape of red here or there).
Well, except for the black domino. It made him look like Zorro. And Damian’s smirk seemed to indicate he wasn’t as dashing as he thought, but he didn’t mind if it could amuse the kid. He’d rather have this than an apathetic Damian. And at least his suit wasn’t a mix of green, yellow and red, even if Hal knew better than to voice this thought.
Jason had armed him - hand to hand combat wasn’t Hal’s preference and he couldn’t use the ring for this - under the suspicious glares of Tim and Dick.
“The guns are not registered and since those morons insisted, those are rubber bullets.” the young man said, handing him two magazines.
Tim had opened his mouth to protest but stopped when Alfred spoke. Respect was not easy to earn from all the boys, but Alfred had managed to have the respect of them all. Hal admired him greatly for it.
“Language, Master Jason.” the old man had said, adjusting the holsters on Hal.
“I’ll put 50 cents in the swear jar on my way out.”
Alfred didn’t look bothered by the provocation. He had dealt with far worse from Jason and loved the kid to bits.
“You do that. Master Harold, I can’t help but think…”
Hal was waiting for what was next, but Alfred stayed stubbornly silent. Hal waited for a few more seconds.
“Yes, Alfred ?” he asked finally, since it looked like Alfred was waiting for something and all the kids’ eyes were on them.
The butler guided Hal in front of a mirror. Ah. He could see why Damian had laughed. The suit was a quite heteroclit mix and they would have to redesign the plating a bit so it would fit his chest better - it had been planned for someone with Bruce’s measurements in mind, meaning it was a bit too large.
But that wasn’t why Alfred had led him to the mirror. The older man was showing him an emplacement on the shoulders.
Hal understood what Alfred was about to say before he had spoken the words.
“This part of your suit had been designed with a cape in mind.”
There was nearly a full minute of uncomfortable silence between them. The kids hadn’t followed them, probably having been given some cue from Alfred that Hal hadn’t paid attention to.
Alfred took a piece of folded fabric on a shelf and unfolded it, presenting it to Hal.
“I see.” Hal said, but he said nothing else.
It was obviously one of Bruce’s capes. Blacker than night, long and large enough for Hal to curl into it if he wanted to.
At this very moment, maybe he wanted to a little. He didn’t reach for the cape. He remembered the feel of it. Had been wrapped into it several times when dozing in the Watchtower. Had helped Bruce out of his suit often enough to know anyway.
It had been a long time since the last time he had fallen asleep with one of Bruce’s cape folded into his arms, but maybe he should try again - it had helped him in the past.
This wasn’t a prototype or an old one, it was one of Bruce’s regular capes that probably had been repaired at some point by either Alfred or Bruce himself. Bruce, because Alfred’s repairs were never visible. Hal could see where the fabric had been put back together, wondering which fight had necessitated it.
Probably one of those Bruce had dismissed as harmless to not worry Hal. Hal usually did the same and they argued when one of them found out how close the other had been to lose a limb or far worse, to die.
Alfred nodded and tied the cape to Hal’s suit, brushing some imaginary dust bunnies away from it.
“Very well. This one should do, sir.”
Hal closed his eyes and willed the memories away. Not now. He’d indulge into them later.
“Thank you, Alfred.” he said, and his voice wasn’t shaking as they walked back towards the bats who were waiting for them.
“We can put a bat on it, if you want.” Tim offered.
Hal wasn’t even sure it was sarcasm. With those ones, you never knew. Hal made an attempt to tousle Tim’s hair but the boy was fast and blocked his arm before he could do it, glaring at Hal.
“I am fine.” he assured as Alfred explained what was in his utility belt and where.
The suit was heavy and Hal yearned to use his ring again instead of firearms but it could do. He would need to train more in it in the future. Hopefully, Bruce would be back on his feet before he got used to all of this.
The Corps would need him soon, anyway. It had been a while since their last call, and selfishly Hal would love to go off planet for a while and forget a bit about Earth.
Which meant he should prepare Jason and Dick to handle things here for a while. He doubted they were ready, and Alfred only could help so much.
The thing was, they would probably murder each other before Hal’s return. Hopefully Hal would still have a few days before getting called off planet.