Archive of Our Own

Bruce and Hal’s timing had always been awful.

Bruce had just stepped out of the room to make a call but was still looking over their asleep ten year old daughter from the window of her hospital room.

Amelia’s hair was making a halo around her moonlit face on her white pillow. She looked even more still from there than she did when he had been sitting at her bedside and it made him deeply uncomfortable.

Maybe he should have stayed in there with her.

However, there had been too many missed calls when he had checked his phone for him to ignore them any longer. Keeping his daughter safe sometimes meant he had to keep the world safe first.

“Bruce !”

Clark wasn’t using codenames. Bruce knew the line was secure but frowned. Apparently, Clark’s calls had been personal and not professional and Bruce had no idea what would make the reporter call him so often in the space of two hours.

“Can it wait ? Amelia is at Leslie’s clinic. I’ll explain -” Bruce said.

“What happened ? Is she okay ?”

That voice. Bruce paused. It couldn’t be. The man had been declared dead more than ten years ago.

“Bruce ?” Clark asked hesitantly, and the touch of guilt in his voice made Bruce irrationally angry.

“Hal,” he breathed.

He wanted to hear him again, just to be sure.

“Hey. Bruce, please tell me she’s okay,” Hal’s voice said, a hint of worry in an ocean of warmth.

“Leslie said she’ll be fine,” Bruce said robotically.

“Okay. Okay. Give me… half an hour.”

Bruce had nodded even if they couldn’t see him and hung up the phone to come back into his daughter’s room and let his head rest against the mattress next to Amelia’s hand, trying to get some control over his emotions.

First, Amelia had been hurt. She had been hurt because of him. Something he should have foreseen, something he hadn’t thought about in a long time and how stupid that had been.

He had managed to lure himself into thinking maybe he was actually father material and good at it. Experience should have reminded him that he wasn’t and that he had failed every one of his kids. Including Amelia, now. The worst of it was that he would probably do it again.

Second, Hal was back. He wasn’t dead. Bruce had very much hoped so and done as much research about the Dlivans as possible without an Oan database.

Years of strenuous research that now figured in a very thin file. The file would have been larger if he had asked for exterior help. But he could very well imagine the pity in Clark’s eyes if he had started asking help to find his daughter’s dead father.

Hal was back. Bruce should have been overjoyed. He just felt very empty. The fact that the last hours had been his biggest failure as a parent to their daughter didn’t help. Maybe Hal’s Mom hadn’t been wrong. Maybe he would never be a suitable parent, no matter how hard he tried. He should have reached this conclusion earlier, really.

Just as his heart constricted in his chest at the thought, he perceived hurried steps and the door of Amelia’s unlit room opened on Hal.

The moonlight fell on him and Bruce’s eyes feasted upon that image, cataloging every single feature and change they could notice. Hal stayed in the door frame for a few seconds, doing just the same with Bruce and their daughter.

And then he joined Bruce at Amelia’s bedside, sitting on the empty chair next to him silently. Bruce yearned to touch him, to take his hand and grab his arm and hold him. He didn’t.

Hal’s eyes were scanning Amelia. She must look so big to him. After all, she had been a baby when he had left.

Of course, Hal probably hated him for letting that happen to her. He should have been better at protecting her.

Slowly, Bruce started talking about her fall, eyes focused on the wall they were facing. How the girl had sneaked out from the Manor when he was on patrol. How he should have known.

She had been acting strange lately and he had thought it was because she was growing into a teenager and had difficulties adjusting since she had started middle school. She seemed to be struggling with English and other languages in particular. Her overachieving mind was taking it quite badly.

She had started asking questions a few months before and he had told her about the other part of the family business. She had looked intrigued and interested and all excited about it.

She had asked if she could join as a Robin. Bruce had strongly refused. She had pouted for a bit but Bruce had tried to spend more time with her and thought she had gotten over it.

He had been so wrong, it had almost killed her. She had apparently decided that she would become Robin no matter what, had borrowed some stuff from the Cave including an old Robin costume of Damian and a grappling hook. And then, this night, she had started patrolling on her own.

Well, this part was only assumptions. Nobody had seen her actually doing it but Cass had found her unconscious and bleeding in a dumpster at the foot of a building in a notorious neighborhood on her patrol route and had called Bruce as she took her little sister to Leslie.

Bruce had never heard Cass talk so much than during this call. He had reached the clinic before her and taken his youngest daughter's body from her arms.

It had been painful to hold her that way, unconscious. He had done that for most of them, but the image of Jason's broken body always came back to haunt him in those situations.

Leslie hadn't said anything but had looked quite disapproving when he had laid the girl in a Robin costume on her examination table.

Cass had stayed with Bruce for a while. Bruce had appreciated the silence. He doubted he could have stand Dick's constant chatter as they waited to find out if the kid would be okay.

Well her heart was still beating when he had left her to Leslie's care, which in his experience was definitely a plus. And she had opened her eyes and started saying something incoherent. Leslie had shushed her and asked Bruce to leave the room for her examination.

The wait had seemed very long but it probably hadn't been. Quickly enough, Amelia's arm had been taken care of. Apparently she had grown agitated and Leslie had sedated her before letting Bruce and Cass in her room.

After a while and since Leslie had assured them that Amelia would be okay, Bruce had dismissed his elder daughter, telling her he'll stay with the kid.

Cass had hesitated but eventually kissed her sister's forehead and hugged Bruce lightly before leaving.

Amelia had woken up for a bit not long after but fallen back asleep since. Not that Bruce had felt like interrogating her when he had seen his littlest kid in her hospital gown.

Leslie had insisted on the fact that she was fine - only a broken arm and an impressive collection of bruises - and that was probably both from the fact that her costume must have protected her spine and neck and that she had fallen straight into a dumpster, not to mention that the building wasn’t a very tall one.

“It’s a miracle she’s okay,” Leslie had frankly told him. “I would have expected broken ribs and maybe a fractured spinal cord. She could have broken her neck. She is very lucky.”

A miracle. Maybe Hal had been right about this. Miracle. Nobody had called his daughter that in a while - which could probably be because Bruce had almost punched Ollie in the face at the ceremony the League had held for Hal’s death when he had pronounced the nickname.

”Don’t ever call my daughter that again,” Bruce had snarled.

“Hal won’t do it again,” Ollie had pointed out in a very reasonable tone.

Bruce couldn’t bear it. It had been too soon. He had told Amelia it was Hal’s nickname for her but had never dared to use it himself when she was awake. But every year, on the anniversary of the day the Corps had told them they had declared Hal dead, Bruce locked himself in the Cave with Amelia’s album for an hour or two.

It was full of pictures of Hal. Amelia’s favorite was in a frame on her nightstand. It was a close-up in a series of photographs of Hal posing with a roguish smile in his father’s jacket in front of some sleek looking aircraft. Hal looked absolutely stunning on it and like he knew it. It probably could have figured in a magazine.

Bruce kept another photograph in his nightstand with some pictures of his kids, but it was more of an amateur photo. On it, Hal was laughing at something. It wasn’t his best profile but he looked happy and he looked at the person on his right with undeniable affection.

It was at a League’s dinner at Barry’s, back when he and Hal had been fooling around. They had been quite young. Diana was at his left and frowning at her food - she hadn't acquired a taste for human cooking yet - but the person Hal was looking at was mostly out of the frame. You would have to have been there to attribute the shoulder Hal was clapping on to Bruce.

Sometimes, usually after arguing with their daughter, Bruce got the picture out of the drawer and looked at it for a few minutes.

But on the same date, each year, he borrowed Amelia’s whole album for an hour or two and talked to Hal as he turned the pages. And he said her nickname then.

”You should see her, our Miracle. She’s growing up so fast.”

Bruce felt a light pressure on his hand and came back to the current time. He looked up at Hal. He had been looking at their daughter as he told Hal his story and couldn’t tell if Hal had just grasped Bruce’s hand on his own or if he himself had reached out for him a few minutes ago but now that he saw their linked hands, he could feel the warmth of Hal’s.

Bruce looked at their hands for a long time without being able to say anything else.

“I should have -”

“Hey. Look at me,” Hal said in a serious tone.

Bruce did. He met Hal’s eyes and lost himself in his contemplation. Hal’s hand cupped his face and Bruce automatically leaned in the touch, sighing. If Hal had gone for a kiss at this moment, he would probably have let him.

“She’s alive,” Hal said. “Say it.”

Bruce repeated it after him to humor him. He would probably be unable to refuse Hal anything for months. Surprisingly, the reaffirmation of his daughter’s survival did make him feel a bit better.

“She fell from a roof. A roof. If I hadn’t -” Bruce said, pulling on his hair in a frustrated move.

“Shh. You’re going to wake her,” Hal said when Bruce raised his voice.

He brushed a streak of brown hair away from her eyes. His hand was trembling. Bruce squeezed Hal’s other hand, still intertwined with his own.

"Leslie said she'll be alright," Bruce said.

"Then I'm not worried," Hal said, looking back at him. .

Bruce threw him a skeptical look and Hal laughed quietly, trying not to wake their kid.

"Okay, I am freaking out a bit. What kind of kid just does what she has done ?" Hal said, shaking his head.

"Mine. I’m sorry," Bruce said, and he let go of Hal’s hand.

Hal was having none of it and grabbed his wrist.

"Bruce… You know it wasn’t what I meant.”

"I've failed her. If I've been more careful, if I’ve watched her better -" Bruce said quietly.

He would like to scream but Hal had a point - there was no reason to disturb the kid’s sleep.

"Yes, I’m sure having her under constant watch would have helped with the rebel attitude."

Hal was rolling his eyes at him. The familiarity of the gesture was painful, memories rushing back at the forefront of Bruce’s mind.

Amelia had developed this habit too since she had started middle school.

"She was my responsibility." he said stubbornly, looking at his daughter’s face.

It looked paler under the moonlight. Everything seemed different under the moonlight. Bruce had found out about it a long time ago.

"You didn't push her from that roof. Hell, you didn't even put her there." Hal said.

“So you think it could have happened to any little girl in the neighborhood ?” Bruce snorted.

“You’re angry at me.” Hal said with a start.

“I - “ Bruce started to protest, but he stopped.

He hadn’t been able to put a word on it but that was it. Yes, he was angry at Hal. So angry he could barely breathe.

“Our daughter has fallen from the top of a building and is lying in a hospital bed and all you think about is picking a fight with me ?” Hal murmured furiously.

“I didn’t - Hal, do you realize ? How - she turned eleven a month ago.” Bruce said more or less coherently, rubbing at his eyes.

“You’re never going to forgive me for leaving.” Hal said under his breath.

He had dropped Bruce’s hand. Bruce kept his mouth shut and avoided the Lantern’s gaze.

“Now is not the time to talk about it.” Bruce said instead as their daughter mumbled something in her sleep and turned on her side.

He could acknowledge the truth in Hal’s statement. However, he had the feeling that staying angry at a dead Hal would be easier than not forgiving a very much alive one.

“Will we ever talk about it ?” Hal said dejectedly.

There was something in his voice that made Bruce finally take a look at him, but Hal was looking away. Maybe his eyes were burning just as much as Bruce’s, then.

“I don’t regret it.” Hal said after a few seconds of silence.

He was looking at Amelia again.

“Can I stay ?” he asked after a while, his jaw tense.

Bruce was quite certain Hal was ready to oppose him many full-fledged arguments if he refused. Hal was always disposed to believe the worst of him. Not that Bruce really blamed him for that, many people reacted that way in Bruce’s presence. However, Ollie pretended he had softened as Amelia grew up.

“You’re her father too.”

And you didn’t let her sneak out of the house at night and fall from a building, he didn’t add.

“I’ve missed her so much.” Hal said quietly.

He looked like he was about to say something else but just shook his head and wrapped his arms around himself.

He didn’t even seem to think twice about the vulnerability he was displaying here. Was it because he trusted Bruce with his weakest moments ? Or had he been vulnerable for so long he wouldn’t mind exposing his distress to anyone else ? Bruce tried not to dwell on it.

When Amelia had woken up in the young hours of the morning, Bruce had been awake for more than thirty hours. Hal had fallen asleep not long ago and he had been contemplating waking him up to prevent him from getting a stiff neck. However, Hal had looked exhausted and probably needed some rest.

Amelia had groaned and turned around, her eyes still closed. She opened her eyes and yelled her surprise when she put pressure on her broken arm. Hal’s own eyes snapped open and he sat straighter, alert.

“Hey, hey. Careful with your arm, it’s broken.” Bruce warned their daughter as she sat up, putting a hand on her good wrist.

“What - oh.” Amelia said, her cheeks reddening endearingly as she remembered the previous night and her fall. “I stink.” she added, scrunching her nose.

She looked a lot like Hal when she did that. Bruce wondered if he would notice. Amelia had yet to mention the presence of a stranger looking like he drunk every word she said avidly in her room.

“You were very lucky. You fell in a full dumpster, it broke your fall.”

She was no longer wearing Damian’s old costume but the smell of rot and decay had clung to her skin. Bruce couldn’t care less.

"Yuck ! I think something went wrong with the grapple gun or the hook.”

"You didn’t use them right.” Bruce confirmed.

He had examined her equipement himself and Barbara had used the CCTV to confirm what he had suspected - nothing was wrong with their vigilante gear and nobody had pushed the girl from a roof, Amelia just didn’t know how to use the equipment properly.

“Are you mad ?" she asked in a little quivering voice.

“Come here and mind your left arm. You scared me so much, sweetie.” Bruce sighed, opening his arms for her.

She almost threw herself into his arms from her bed before Bruce could stand up to hold her more comfortably.

"I didn’t want to.” Amelia said, but her sobs and Bruce’s shirt muffled her voice.

"I know, sweetie. We'll talk about that at home." Bruce said, hugging her a bit tighter.

After about a minute, Amelia let him go and dried her tears with the back of her palms. Only then did she seem to notice Hal.

Her eyes brightened and she extended a hand to him.

"Hi. Uh, I am Amelia Wayne. You're one of Dad's special friends ?" she asked with badly contained excitement.

His daughter had shown an increased interest in superheroes since Bruce had told her the truth about their family.

Her wording left a lot to be desired, if Hal’s puzzled face and surprised side glance in his direction was anything to go by. They were probably going to have a discussion about Bruce’s special friends very soon.

"Sweetheart, you've already met Hal when you were a baby." he said softly, sitting on the bed next to her, an arm loosely wrapped around her waist.

Her eyes widened when she heard the name. She looked up at Bruce, who nodded, a supportive hand on her shoulder.

Amelia could now place the bizarre sensation of déjà-vu she had been having. She had seen this face before. She had a whole album with pictures of this face.

He looked older, with more wrinkles and a thinner face, and his hair was whiter at the temples but the resemblance was uncanny.

"Are you - Dad ?" she asked, feeling her throat tighten.

She usually used the word for another man, but Bruce also used it when he talked to her about her other father.

She could feel the reassuring weight of Bruce’s arm against her back, a reminder of his presence at her side. She focused on it as she waited for an answer.

The stranger nodded.

"Miracle." he croaked, as if he hadn’t talked for ages.

"Can you come closer too ? There's enough room for the three of us on my bed.” she said, patting the empty space next to her with her good hand.

Hal didn’t need to be asked twice.

“Amelia. I -”

“You didn't have a beard in the pictures." the kid cut him off, leaning against Bruce as she examined Hal.

And then she reached out. Hal closed his eyes when her little hand touched his face and took a deep breath. At that moment, Bruce realized nobody must have shown Hal that kind of tenderness in ages.

“It feels funny.” Amelia said, running her fingers through his beard.

"It's a recent addition but I am planning to get rid of it." Hal admitted, opening his eyes again. “But that’s enough about me. Tell me everything about you.” he added, pushing an errant streak of chestnut hair behind her ear.

When Leslie had given them the green light to take Amelia home, Hal had looked hesitant until Bruce enjoined him to follow. Amelia was walking in front with determination, looking forward to going home.

“Hal, I would never keep you away from our daughter. I doubt she’ll be okay with it if I even tried, anyway.” Bruce told him, low enough to keep their conversation from their daughter.

“You think it went well ?” he asked, a hopeful note in his voice.

“You were excited to see her collection of crustacean stamps. You told her you’ll go see her at her ice skating spectacle at the end of the year and you promised to take her to the local observatory soon. She already adores you.” Bruce pointed out.

It had been very moving to hear Hal and Amelia talk together. How Hal had listened to their daughter with genuine interest as she talked about her favorite kinds of woodlouses and how misunderstood the poor things were.

“I’m overstepping. I shouldn’t have said yes to half of this, right ?” Hal asked, chuckling nervously.

“Well, if you'd asked me first, I would have warned you that our eleven year olds is a shark and that you should really have said no to Monopoly. She’ll bleed you and she’ll smile sweetly the whole time.”

They had laughed at that and Amelia had turned back. And then they had gotten back to the Manor. Bruce had insisted that Amelia got more sleep as Leslie had recommended. He hoped to catch some hours of sleep too, but he wasn’t too willing to leave Hal.

So he had offered Hal a drink despite the early hour and Hal had shrugged and accepted.

“Thank you. I know you’re hating me for going after the Dlivans on my own but I really appreciate that you’re playing nice for Amelia’s sake.” Hal said.

Bruce had sighed as he poured them a glass each.

“I don’t hate you, Hal. Oh, I’m angry, and rightfully so. No, don’t interrupt. I’m not doing this only for Amelia. I really want us to be friends, Hal.”

“Friends. Sure, I can do that.” Hal said, and if his smile was a bit strained it was probably because he was a bit tired himself.

“To friends, then.” Bruce said, clinking their glasses.

“To friends.” Hal repeated.

He was about to drink when he noticed Bruce was distracted. He put a finger on his lips, gesturing for Hal to stay silent and took three feline steps to the door. He opened it theatrically to reveal a sleepy looking eleven year old girl clutching a battered tiger to her chest.

Bruce knelt in front of her and put his large hands on her frail shoulders.

“Amelia, why aren’t you in your bed ?”

“I don’t want to go to sleep. What if my other Dad leaves us again ?”

From her tone, it was obvious she hadn’t spotted Hal in the background.

“I’m not going to do that.” Hal protested vehemently, taking a step forward.

The little girl hid behind Bruce and Hal took a step back, his face contorting in pain before he turned his back to them and fled the room by another door.

“Hal.” Bruce called him, Amelia glued to his side.

“I’m sorry.” was the only thing Hal said before closing the door behind him.

That morning, Bruce spent a long time with Amelia before she could finally fall asleep. He possibly fell asleep for an hour or two himself before he got out of her room silently.

He found Hal in the kitchen, leaning against a counter. Hal wasn’t always comfortable in the Manor’s large rooms but he liked the smaller kitchen.

He was talking on the phone when Bruce approached the door.

“I don’t know, Bar, you tell me. I know how long it has been. I just want - I don’t even…” Hal was saying before he caught sight of Bruce.

Bruce wouldn’t have minded to hear more but he doubted Hal would take it too kindly if he noticed Bruce eavesdropping, so he had knocked at the open door. To his credit, Hal didn’t jump. His eyes just snapped at the door.

“Hey, Bruce’s here. Can we continue this conversation tomorrow ? Great. Yeah, thank you. I’ll call you.” he said before hanging up.

Bruce leaned against the table.

“What happened earlier with Amelia ? You scared her, Hal.”

“Sorry I didn’t get to hone my parenting skills when I was being literally tortured.”

Bruce clenched his fists at Hal’s words. Of course, in eleven years… he should have expected it. There wasn’t much Bruce could say as an answer.

Hal was trying to provoke him but he couldn’t let it get the better of him. He wasn’t going to yell at Hal, despite his anger and his fear.

An apology would be vain. In any case, Bruce thought that this apology would have to be accompanied with some Dlivans’ heads on a silver platter to matter and he knew Hal wouldn’t appreciate it.

Bruce tried and extended an olive branch instead.

“Mint chocolate chip ice cream ?” he asked Hal.

And Hal did something he hadn’t expected : he laughed. He laughed so hard he cried.

“You’re impossible, you know that ? I’ve just told you I was tortured and you asked me if I wanted ice cream. You wouldn’t know pragmatics if it hit you in the face.”

Bruce didn’t say anything, his arms crossed on his chest. He could have asked Hal names or to show him his wounds. He could have cried in sorrow and rage at what Hal had gone through.

It wouldn’t have helped Hal any.

“I’ve spent I don’t even know how many years in space and the most extraordinary creature I’ve ever met lives in Gotham, New Jersey.” Hal said, drying his tears.

He probably hadn’t noticed because he had not many memories of Hal actually crying, but Amelia wiped her cheeks exactly the same way.

There were many little things she did exactly like Hal and that had made Bruce’s heart ache numerous times.

He shrugged at Hal’s remark. He was not your usual guy. Nothing new.

“You don’t want ice cream ?” he asked, opening the freezer, unfazed.

He wasn’t sure Hal had eaten anything since he’d come back on Earth.

“Actually, I do. I haven’t had any for a decade.” Hal revealed.

Bruce nodded and retrieved the ice cream tub from the freezer and fixed them two bowls before handing one to Hal and looking for teaspoons.

“I’m not sure what your stomach can handle right now. Maybe you should -” he warned the Lantern anyway.

“You may have forgotten, but I don’t always do what I should.” Hal said, taking a spoon from Bruce’s hand. “That’s an endearing feature of mine.”

Bruce just glared at him and Hal laughed some more. He had missed that sound.

They ate in silence for a few seconds, Hal taking a long time between each mouthful.
It didn’t taste as good as he remembered but he had expected it. The Dlivans diet was mostly sugar free and their prisoners’ diet wasn’t much better.

"Amelia thinks I'm going to leave again." Hal said, playing with his spoon as he paused in his degustation.

Bruce put his own spoon down to answer him.

"Hal, she doesn't know you the way I do. She has not directly experienced what it means to be loved by you, she doesn’t know how much you love her.”

"Nobody ever does." Hal said, rolling his eyes and abandoning the rest of his ice cream to Bruce.

Bruce grimaced slightly but ate it obligingly. Hal knew for a fact he didn’t favor this ice cream flavor, contrary to Dick and him. Well, he had, for a time. It was very much possible that Dick didn't like it anymore either.

"You shouldn’t worry too much about Amelia. Experience should tell you that people you love can't help but love you back." Bruce said as he put their bowls in the sink. “Let’s get some sleep now. You can take a room close to Amelia’s. There’s Tim’s old one -”

“I’d rather not. I - nightmares.” Hal mumbled.

“Do you want me to stay with you ?” Bruce asked but Hal shook his head.

“No, I’ll be fine. Besides, Amelia may need you.”

They had all slept for a few hours. Hal had woken up in a sweat, quite certain he had been screaming in his sleep. The room he was in was the room Dick and Barbara stayed in when they paid Bruce, Alfred and Amelia a visit. It was isolated enough that Hal could be certain he hadn’t woken up anyone else.

He wandered in the corridors for a bit to pass the time before he decided to see if Bruce was awake.

He and Amelia were sitting at the living-room table, eating… lunch, probably ? Being back on Earth after so long had messed up with Hal’s sense of local time.

“Hi.” Hal said.

Bruce was sitting at the end of the enormous table and Amelia was sitting at his right. Hal sat at his left.

“Do you want something to eat ?” Bruce asked him.

Hal had felt nauseous until he fell asleep because of the ice cream they had shared earlier.

“I’ll pass.”

“Why do I have to eat if he doesn’t ?”

“You’re a growing girl who needs to eat for her development.” Bruce said machinally.

They obviously had some similar conversation before, he seemed to be following a pitch. Amelia let out a loud sigh and stabbed a few green beans with her fork a bit more energetically than strictly necessary.

They stayed silent for most of the meal after that, Bruce looking like he was deeply lost in thought and Amelia apparently pouting. Bruce wasn’t doing anything to coax her out of her brooding fit and Hal decided it couldn’t hurt to try.

“So, I had Barry on the phone in the morning. He said he married Jess and that you were best friends with their daughter.”

Hal had thought it would be a good subject and that Amelia couldn’t resist talking about her best friend. Sadly, it wasn’t the part of his sentence she chose to focus on.

"If you ever marry Dad, can I be a bridesmaid ? Lizzie was a bridesmaid at her cousin’s wedding last week.”

Bruce didn’t even bat an eye. Hal wondered if it was the kind of questions he dealt with every day or if he just hadn’t paid attention but he noticed that Bruce’s gaze had become more focused. And not on their daughter.

"Ah. I am sorry, sweetie but gay people can't marry." he said, going for a practical answer.

"They can, actually. They passed a law a few years ago." Bruce told him before looking at his plate again.

He hadn’t eaten much, apparently.

"Really ?" Hal asked him.

"Jeanne's moms are gay and they are married." Amelia supplied helpfully, looking at them alternatively as if one of them were going to tell her that yes, why not, they’ll do it.

"Sometimes parents don't get married." Bruce told her.

"But sometimes, they do." Amelia said, looking down at her plate.

She had torn the reminding green beans apart without even realizing it. Bruce put a hand on her wrist.

“Sweetie. Why do you want us to get married ?” he asked her, his attention fully on her this time.

Amelia rarely asked random questions and she looked quite stricken.

She seemed to hesitate and looked at Hal.

“I don’t want my other Dad to leave.” she said quietly, but the room was so silent that Hal managed to hear her.

“I promise you Hal will always be welcome here.” Bruce assured her.

"Miracle. I have a job that will take me away sometimes. But I promise I'll come back for you. Pinky swear." he said, extending his little finger to her.

Amelia huffed and rolled her eyes at him. Bruce couldn’t help but feel pleased and consider it was payback for all the times Hal had rolled his eyes at him.

"I’m going to middle school, Dad."

"Right, sometimes I forget you’re so big. Amelia, look at me. I love you. I love you more than you can imagine. I'll keep coming back for you, even if Bruce and I are not married." Hal said.

“Okay.” she said, nodding solemnly and she went back to eat her vegetables.

She and Bruce both finished their plates and took them back to the kitchen. Hal met Alfred again and helped him with the dishes despite his protestations. Hal appreciated the simple, repetitive task of washing the dishes and seeing Alfred again made him feel happy.

When they had finished, Hal had gone back to the living-room and found out from Amelia that Bruce was working in his study.

“Dad said I didn’t have to go to school today because of yesterday’s accident. Do you have time to play with me ?”

He smiled at his daughter and ruffled her hair.

“Dad, no !” she said laughing as she tried to ruffle his hair too with her arm who wasn’t enveloped into a cast.

If she kept referring to him as “Dad”, he was going to die from an infarctus. His heart seemed to stop each time she did so.

They did play together. Somehow Amelia had enrolled him in a jump rope contest that he barely won - the kid apparently had good stamina or was full of spite and Hal hadn’t done that in decades.

Amelia had then declared she wouldn’t play with him anymore if he didn’t take a shower. Kids.

So Hal had asked Alfred for a towel and the butler had informed him he would find anything necessary in the room he had spent the night in and that it was actually an en suite. Right. Hal had forgotten that the Manor was that kind of place. First, because it had never looked more than an home than ever with Amelia there, and second because alien prisons didn't have such things as bathtubs.

Hal had taken a very long shower, called back a friend or two and then knocked on Amelia’s door when he didn’t find her in the living-room. She had changed clothes and Hal supposed she had showered too.

Later, after he had played two games of Monopoly with his daughter - and been meticulously ruined twice in a row, Amelia had ditched him to draw ‘’top secret projects” in her bedroom.

Without realizing it at first, Hal had found his way to Bruce’s study. The last time he had been there, they had argued and said pretty hurtful things. It was also the first time Bruce had told him he wanted to raise their daughter and the room where they had picked her name together.

He took a deep breath and turned the handle. He didn’t knock, if Bruce wanted to be alone he could lock the door.

Bruce looked up at him as he walked into the room and closed the door behind him.

“If it can make you feel better, Jess and Barry’s eldest said she understood what capitalism was when she agreed to play Monopoly with our daughter,” he remarked as Hal slumped into the nearest chair.

He had barely taken a look at Hal and immediately deduced what had happened. Hal couldn’t help but feel a little bit admirative. Good to know Bruce’s mind was still sharp.

“She’s terrifying. And you’re in a good mood.”

He suspected that it was because Bruce was a sore loser and that he himself must have lost a few games against Amelia.

"That’s because I thought back on Amelia’s suggestion and I’m now planning our wedding. Any preference for the venue ? Or is it too soon and should I keep the wedding ring box in my drawer for now ?" Bruce asked in a playful tone, referencing their earlier conversation.

“It didn’t work out that well with Selina. Or did it ?”

Amelia hadn’t mentioned anyone but Hal didn’t know what had happened in ten years. It was likely that Bruce was seeing someone, even if he was discreet about it. Hal just hoped it wasn’t Catwoman. As far as he was aware, Bruce had never been happy with her.

Bruce just stared at him and Hal thought back about what he had said. Um. That did sound a bit harsh and insensitive. Well, he hadn’t done diplomatic gigs in a while but that sounded much worse when he had said it than when he had thought it.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” Hal said, lowering his eyes.

“You’re an idiot.” Bruce said.

It wasn’t the first insult Bruce threw at his face and they had both said much worse to each other. Hey, Hal’s remark a few seconds ago had been much more of a personal attack, but somehow this little remark had reached its target.

"Hey, you were the one playing cat and mouse with Catwoman herself. You could have figured out you couldn’t win this game. Please tell me you didn’t get back with her after what she did."

Bruce's nostrils flared.

"So much for your apology. How dare you ?" he seethed. "How dare you, Hal ? You weren't there. You have no idea what we went through." he said, standing up.

Hal didn’t ask who the “we” referred to. Probably Bruce and Amelia. Maybe Bruce’s other kids too or the League.

"I wish I've been. I would have loved to be there and see my daughter grow up. I wasn't on a vacation, you remember ?” Hal said snappily.

"You didn't have to do it alone. You decided -" Bruce said, pointing at Hal’s chest.

"I don't regret any of my choices if it means we're all here today." Hal said in a calmer, steadier tone.

Bruce shook his head. He just couldn’t accept that.

"You missed so much -" he said.

"I’m aware. But Amelia's alive and well and that's what matters."

Bruce laughed at him. It was a terrible thing, Bruce laughing at you. Hal had never felt dumber than the rare times Bruce had outright laughed at him, and he wasn’t even sure Bruce realized the power of that, the negative effect he could have on people.

“She sneaked out of the Manor and fell from a roof. You should rethink your definition of ‘well’.”

“And you think it could have been prevented if I'd been here ? How ? You may have forgotten but our relationship had never been a model of stability. Speaking of us, what have you told our daughter ? Why does she think we’re in the kind of relationship that could lead to being married ?”

Hal wasn’t sure why he was asking that. He hadn’t planned to. It wasn’t something he had thought he wanted to know.

"Well, I told her that we fucked around when we were young and that we had a semi-hostile relationship until her birth, when we reached full hostily before we finally got back to hesitant friendship. Oh and that you betrayed my trust just before you disappeared. What do you think ?” Bruce said.

Hal stayed silent. He hadn’t thought of their relationship that way but Bruce apparently had. Well, he probably had had to explain it to a young child, so of course he had had to give it some thought.

Hearing Bruce disparaging their relationship like that was quite crushing. In essence, what he had said was true but it didn’t capture the complexity of their relationship or even the beauty of it. There was beauty there somewhere, Hal was sure of it. He couldn’t believe they hadn’t shared something beautiful, if a bit twisted and complicated.

“She started asking about you when she was four. Of course I told her that our relationship was the stuff poets write about. I wanted her to like you." Bruce said.

He had been afraid she would grow up to hate Hal for leaving them and he had done everything in his power to prevent it, even when his own feelings toward Hal and his decision were quite unfriendly.

He could allow himself to be annoyed with Hal but he didn’t want to make Hal the bad guy of Amelia’s story.

"Bruce."

"What ?"

"You're shaking. You know that you’re a good Dad, right ?” Hal said.

He was holding Bruce’s wrist. Bruce hadn’t registered when he had done it. That had happened twice in a few hours. Having Hal around apparently screwed up his perception.

“Am I ? Have you missed the fact that our daughter was lying in a hospital bed a few hours ago ?”

Hal took Bruce’s hands in his impulsively.

“Somehow you’re under the assumption that my parenting would have prevented that. I don’t think so. Bruce, I’ve talked with her and she seemed to be a wonderful kid. That’s not because of me. You did a great job with her.”

Hal really thought that. He tried to put all his conviction into his voice.

“She might not see her fifteenth birthday but I’m glad you think she has a stellar personality.” Bruce said, looking away from him and freeing his hands from his light holds.

“Bruce, she’ll be fine. Do you remember the last time we were both here ? You’ve come a long way and you can do it again.” Hal said, just as the door opened behind him.

“Dad, can we finish my plane model today ?” Amelia asked, looking at Bruce expectantly.

“Maybe we won’t paint it today but we can make some progress. Ask Alfred for the table protector and grab your kit and the glu, I’ll find the cutter and we can work on it for an hour or two before dinner.”

“I thought planes were my thing.” Hal said mockingly when Amelia had sprinted back into the corridor to get her things, but Bruce didn’t smile as he rummaged through a drawer of his desk.

"You were dead, Hal." he said quietly. "We’ve started making aircraft models together on her tenth birthday. I thought it would help her to connect with you, somehow. That it would give her a bit of something she could have had."

He didn’t add that the tenth anniversary of Hal’s supposed death had been coming. Hal could read between the lines.

“You’re not afraid she’ll want to become a pilot someday ?” Hal asked as they left the study to take the direction of the living-room.

“Well, if she doesn’t become a Lantern at the same time, I suppose I can live with it.” Bruce said, shrugging.

Doing what Hal and Bruce, not to mention Bruce’s other kids, did was even more dangerous than being a test pilot.

“My Mom would be thrilled.” Hal said, shaking his head, but he was smiling.

Bruce, not so much.

“Don’t take it badly, but your Mom has never been thrilled by my parenting skills.”

“She knows about Amelia ?” Hal asked him.

He hadn’t had a chance to tell his family before leaving and it had been eating at him.

“I thought it was a good call to make. I don’t have family apart from Kate and I supposed that Amelia would like to have a Grandma, uncles and cousins. It didn’t go well. Your Mom almost asked for Amelia’s custody. Your brother Jim actually stopped her. He and I get along.”

“I’m sorry. I would never have thought she would do that to you.” Hal sighed.

They had stopped in the corridor. Their daughter was probably waiting for them impatiently. She would come back to fetch them anytime, now.

“She had just lost a son. It can make your perception change. Maybe she had a point. Amelia would probably have never fallen from a building if your mother had raised her.”

“Bruce. Amelia’s happy here. With you.” Hal said.

“But is she safe ?” Bruce said.

He wasn’t looking at Hal, his eyes were focused on a point on the left of his face. He just couldn’t watch the doubt on Hal’s face.

Hal had grabbed his hand and Bruce reminded himself that Hal hadn’t felt human touch for a very long time.

“Teach her how to be. How old is Damian now ? 22 ? He’s not living here anymore, I suppose he’s no longer a Robin either ?”

“Robins die too.” Bruce objected.

But they come back, Hal refrained to say. He doubted Bruce would appreciate it.

“I still think it’ll be safer for Amelia to learn the family trade from you instead of trying to figure it out on her own.” Hal said just as Amelia appeared in the corridor.

“Are you coming ?” she asked.

They followed her and spent some time working on her model airplane before dinner.

After dinner - Hal barely touched anything -, Amelia curled up in a comfortable armchair with her phone.

Hal sat in the opposite armchair and Bruce sat next to him.

“Amelia, have you read more pages of that book you have to read for school ?” he asked her.

“It’s boring.” Amelia had said, looking up from her phone, but she had gone to her room to look for her book anyway.

“Bruce ?” Hal asked once he was certain she was out of earshot.

“Hum ?”

Bruce was reading a report from Wayne Enterprises.

“Has she been tested for dyslexia ?”

Bruce put down his report and looked at Hal.

“No. You think she should be ?”

He looked doubtful but he had granted Hal his full attention anyway.

“Actually yes. You said Amelia was having difficulties in English and languages since she started 6th grade. Maybe it’s nothing and as you said she’s just adjusting to a new rhythm. It’s also possible that she managed to mask her difficulties until now but that the rhythm in middle school is too fast for her to do it now.”

“And you think that the fact she doesn’t like mandatory reading means she has dyslexia ?” Bruce asked, puzzled.

“Does she read anything else ?” Hal asked.

“Science magazines mainly. The ones with animals in them. She likes graphic novels too but she thinks they’re boring if they’re a bit long.”

“And novels ?” Hal pressed.

“Cass has left some audiobooks here, I caught Amelia listening to them. You really think she could be dyslexic ?” Bruce said, sounding quite alarmed.

He couldn’t have missed that, could he have ?

“I'm not a professional and I don't think you should diagnose someone just considering their reading habits and their attitude toward different school subjects but since a child with a dyslexic biological parent is way more likely to be dyslexic than any other child, yes, I think it’s a strong possibility.”

“It’s not in your file.” Bruce remarked.

He was sure of it. It had been a long time since he had last looked at Hal’s file but he doubted he would have missed that.

“I won’t even ask which file.” Hal said, sighing. “I didn’t get a diagnosis. Neither did my brothers but Jack’s kids had when they went to primary school and Julia’s speech therapist told him there were hereditary factors. And well…"

Hal shrugged before starting to tell Bruce about his school years.

“Jack, Jim and I all did well in school. I had some trouble during first grade when I was learning to read and then again in middle school but I've just lost my Dad and some kids just need some more time to learn how to read, right ? My Mom was probably pampering me too much or something.”

Hal paused there for a bit.

“Well, maybe she did. I was slow at reading but my Mom read me the books from the required reading list aloud. She wasn't happy about my career choice but Carol agreed to read my classmate's notes aloud in exchange for some free work when my Mom refused to have anything to do with my project of following in my Dad’s footsteps.” Hal said.

“I suppose now is as much a bad time as any to tell you that Carol and I staged your death in a plane crash. Your mother won’t take kindly to you flying again.” Bruce said hesitantly.

He had a hand on Hal’s elbow. Hal should have been the touch-deprived one but Bruce had a hard time staying away from his personal space.

“Well she’s never been very supportive in this area.” Hal said, unbothered. “But I probably graduated high school because of her. And a lot of work. My spelling wasn't great but neither was my father's or Jack's. I also worked hard to improve my spelling and my Mom reread my essays for me and then Carol. I wouldn’t have become a pilot without either of them.” he admitted.

“I see. How did you manage to hide it from the League ? And please don’t tell me your Mom had been rereading JL reports for three decades.”

Hal laughed then.

“She thinks being a pilot will kill me someday. She doesn’t need to know that it’s much more likely I will die as a Lantern, and I’m not telling her. As for your question, you may not have noticed but I usually dictate my reports to the ring. If I write them myself, I spend a lot of time checking my grammar and spelling to be certain there are next to zero mistakes. An occasional mistake could be blamed on tiredness or inattention.”

How many nights had he stayed up rereading every sentence in a report he had just written before realizing he could just dictate his report to the ring ? The ring was then able to reread it to him and let him add sentences here and there or erase and change them.

“Even if there had been a few mistakes in your report, do you think anyone would have minded ?” Bruce asked when Hal stopped talking.

“Most people would probably not have. But you would have thought I wasn’t taking my reports seriously.” Hal said.

Bruce looked down. Hal wasn’t wrong here.

“What else ? You know I'd rather call and leave a voicemail than text, even if I usually don't make mistakes if there's not much to write anyway. I’m not too bad at learning other languages but I think that the ring is helping somehow, and I never attempt to learn their written form. It would be a loss of time. Dyslexia is also the reason I didn't write a letter to you when I left. I wouldn't have the time to reread it and there might have been grammar mistakes in it."

"You realize that I couldn't have cared less for your orthography ?” Bruce asked.

It had been so far from Bruce’s preoccupations. Hal could have misspelled his own name that he probably wouldn’t have noticed.

"Call it vanity. But yes, chances are that I wasn't just bad at English but actually had undiagnosed dyslexia. Jim too. I know for a fact that he dictates everything he has to write to his secretary. Maybe Jack, but he and I have never been as close as Jim and I.”

Bruce looked thoughtful.

“I haven't bothered her about it because she mostly has good marks but sometimes Amelia makes spelling mistakes her siblings didn't make at her age. And she should be back, she’s probably sulking in her room.”

“She does that a lot ?”

“Define ‘a lot’.” Bruce said, giving him an amused smile.

“Does Alfred keep tabs ? Does the one who sulked less in the day get to pick the menu ?”

Bruce rolled his eyes at him. The eyerolls were more Hal and Amelia’s speciality but Bruce had to admit it perfectly conveyed his feelings here.

“Hilarious. So you think we should take Amelia to a speech therapist ?” he asked.

Hal nodded, looking at Bruce.

“Yes, but let me talk to her about it first.”

Bruce had asked for his opinion as Amelia’s father. “We” he had said. They were making decisions together as parents. It made Hal feel warm.

“What about the book she has to read for school ? Should I read it to her ?” Bruce asked him.

Hal made a face.

“It probably depends on the kid but I’ll say no. When my mother did that, I just felt extra dumb for not being able to do it myself. We didn’t have the same possibilities back then and I know my Mom was doing her best, but it probably would be better if you just get Amelia the audiobook version if it exists.”

Bruce was looking at him strangely. There was something in his eyes that Hal couldn’t quite interpret, despite having a self-attributed doctorate in reading Bruce’s micro-expressions.

“Hal, you know you’re brilliant, right ? Really brilliant.” Bruce said.

He sounded quite concerned. Hal took his hand.

“It took me some time to figure it out.” he admitted. “That’s why… I shouldn’t have lashed out earlier, but hearing that I was an idiot, from you, it just made the memories surface. I had to fight against myself to build my self-esteem. I’ve yet to meet a kid with a learning disability who doesn’t doubt their intellectual abilities.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” Bruce said.

He was looking down at their hands as he had done in the hospital.

“Well, I shouldn’t have mentioned Selina. It wasn’t my place and that was a low blow.” Hal said.

“Why are you so obsessed with her ? You also talked about her earlier.” Bruce asked to know.

“Look who’s talking. And I assure you it’s not a hard guess.”

Bruce nodded as if it was the answer he had expected.

He stood up. Hal stood up too, facing him, unsure of what Bruce was about to do.

“Correct me if I’m wrong.” Bruce said, very much aware that his sentence had several layers of meaning.

He started the Zzel-i sequence Hal had taught him about twenty years ago. Hal had told him it meant “Safe” before amending and admitting it didn’t really say that but it could for them. Not long after Hal’s depart for Dliva, when there had still been hope that he would come back, Bruce had figured out from a remark from Clark that the meaning was closer to ‘I love you’.

“Those are impressive investigative skills you have here, detective.” Hal said as Bruce finished the sequence.

And Hal started the sequence on Bruce.

“And now ?” Bruce asked as Hal finished.

“Now we make up for a decade of human touch deprivation in one night.”

“Hal -”

“If this is the start of a speech on me being vulnerable right now and taking our time, I’d like to remind you that you looked just as vulnerable this morning and that with the lives we live, we may have less time to spend together than we think.” Hal said, ready to defend his point of view.

“Okay.”

It just didn’t sound like Bruce to yield so easily, but they hadn’t seen each other for more than ten years.

“Just like that ?” Hal said, suspicious.

“Those were compelling arguments.” Bruce said, cupping his cheek and stroking it with his thumb.

Hal sighed and took a step forward to close the distance between them a bit more. Bruce closed the last inches between their mouths.

Time stood still as they kissed. They hadn’t known what exactly they were looking for, after all this time, but they found it.

"Wait. About the ring box. It was just a quip, right ?" Hal asked after catching his breath.

"Um." Bruce answered, kissing Hal’s neck.

"Bruce." Hal said in a choked tone, tugging at Bruce’s hair.

"It was what you wanted it to be." Bruce said, looking back at Hal.

Hal kissed him once again, putting as many feelings as he could in a single kiss. They had to pull apart for lack of breath.

"Let’s make it a promise, then." Hal murmured against Bruce’s ear.