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The manor fell into a serene silence after the inhabitance settled for a night in. Damian and Dick were going to have a movie marathon of the James Bond films. Jason took up his place in the library to unwind. Tim went to his room to get on a call with a couple of the Justice League members that were coming back from a mission. Cassandra was not home; she was off with the Birds of Prey.
As for Bruce, he was in his study, working away at some W.I. paperwork that Tim had thrown at him with several inaudible grumbles. He didn’t really question it and just let one of his youngest, but smartest, sons walk away to hopefully get some rest. Though, Bruce knew that it was doubtful that Tim would think this was the time to get sleep and he was sure Alfred would drug his tea after he was finished with his JLA briefing.
The older man sighed. It just wasn’t the same…
A gentle knock proceeded Alfred as he carted in the tea for the evening. It had with it two biscuits, and from what Bruce could smell, a sleepy-time tea mixed up with chamomile and lemongrass. “Late evening, sir?”
Bruce set his work aside for the moment to rub away the tiredness. “Tim threw this at me before he went up. Figured I could get some of it out of the way.” Alfred nodded, adjusting the tea kettle on the cart to sit on the warmer that Bruce had gotten installed about five Christmas’ ago. The butler hadn’t poured anything yet, and frankly, it was so unlike the man that Bruce faced the older gentleman fully. “Is there something the matter, Alfred?”
Alfred seemed to mull over something for a moment, which was an odd thing to see as Alfred did not have many tells. It was the slight twitch to his lips that really gave him away to Bruce. But that was so subtle that Bruce had only learned it after several years of knowing the man. “It would seem Young Master Jonathon is visiting again.”
“Damian is allowed to have friends over, Alfred. I don’t see how this is something I should be concerned over.”
The thin line of Alfred’s mouth somehow appeared thinner, “I assure you, sir, I know Master Damian is allowed his friend. But I do not think the Young Master is aware that Jonathan is here at all.” Bruce blinked somewhat surprised. It was not often that any of his children’s friends were over without letting their respective partners in crime know that they had arrived. Bruce liked to act as if he knew everything those boys and girls got up to, but he’d learned that sometimes ignorance is bliss.
“Where is Jon?”
“The rooftop, sir.”
The nighttime air was chilly when Bruce opened the door to see the younger lad sitting, knees to chest, and head down on said knees. He’d grown in the last couple of years, the same as Damian. His hair was cut a little shorter than in his childhood years, he could fit into his father’s flannels better now than before. He’d taken to hiding his identity the same way as well. Everything about Jon Kent screamed his father.
Bruce sighed before walking up to the young man. “Alfred mentioned you hadn’t told Damian you were here.” A small sniffle was the first reply before Jon raised his head slightly.
“I didn’t think Dami would, uh, want to talk to me like this,” Jon rubbed his nose, “’ Sides, I didn’t come here to talk to Dami.” Bruce sighed again. Being closer to Jon now told Bruce a lot more of the story.
The flannel was unwashed, and crumpled up but also stretched from years of use. He could also see the old necklace that Clark would wear until it broke during a mission, and he’d given it to Jon after Lois replaced it. Jon’s eyes, from what Bruce could see, were bloodshot. His eyes were sunken, and he had dried up snot around his nostrils. Bruce noticed he kept worrying the sides of his converse, which he could tell were rubbed often judging by how smooth the rubber was becoming.
“Do I need to go get Dick? I know you two have talked a lot about when Damian is upsetting you.” Bruce wasn’t entirely sure if he could avoid the obvious. Jon wouldn’t take so long to ask for what he wanted in general, but if this was about what he thought it was…
“I actually was wondering if I could talk to you?” That was what Bruce had figured the younger man would say. Jon had taken to coming to him for advice the last couple of years. Damian had confided to him that Jon saw Bruce as someone who was wise, much like Alfred, and that he might be able to…
Bruce took a seat next to the young lad and felt him slightly lean towards him, but Jon didn’t touch him. “I can sit a spell, I suppose.”
Jon snorted, “Sit a spell. Tim’s so right, you are old.”
“I’d take offense, but my back has been so tight today that I’m pretty sure I was hunched over for most of the board meeting today.” Jon snorted again and bumped his shoulder into Bruce’s arm just slightly.
“See? Old.” Jon had a sad smile on his face, but it was closer to the smile that Bruce was used to seeing on the boy’s face when they interacted with one another. His face contorted a moment later and he hid it from Bruce when he finally spoke again, “Mom had a date tonight. I didn’t want to meet him when they got back.”
Bruce let out a gentle breath, “It’s been five years, Jon.”
“Yeah, and it took her five years to forget him?!” The young man snapped, curling his hand around a shingle until it crumpled in his hand.
The older man nearly grumbled in frustration at the destruction, but supers were sometimes like that. Instead, Bruce brought no attention to the lack of control, “No, that is not what your mom is doing. She’s trying to move on with her life, she isn’t making this decision lightly. I’m sure she is thinking about you the whole time that she’s talking with this guy, and I’m sure she’s looking for someone who can be like a father to you with Clark… Gone.”
It had ripped the world apart the Death of Superman. Bruce hadn’t thought it would be the sword that got him, but Clark had saved millions that day. The whole world as far as the nations were concerned. There were statues everywhere, Clark Kent was revealed to be Superman, and Metropolis had a giant statue in his honor. Not many people knew about Jon, but it eventually got out. Lois and Jon stayed at the manor until all of the media circuses would move on to a new topic. They tended to stay over on the anniversary for Clark each year as the media would try to get pictures of them to see if they were still grieving.
Bruce knew that Jon had taken it the worst. He idolized his father and saw someone thought to be unkillable be taken down. It had put a stone in Lois’ stomach, and she had forbidden Jon from taking the mantle of Superman until he was no longer a child under the law. Jon was set to turn 18 next June. Just three months away. He’d asked Bruce to design a suit for him.
“He’s not gone! Not really… I have all the notes he left me. All the ones his dad left him! My dad is still raising me. I don’t need some. Some… Some nobodies who likely only want to date my mom 'cause she’s the one who ‘F***ed Superman’ and that’ll give them the limelight for a few years,” Jon threw up his hands, clenching them now and again. “I just… Dad wouldn’t want her to move on from him. He said that they were it for each other. He didn’t see himself loving anyone but Miss Lois Lane from the Daily Prophet.” Jon went back to hugging his knees.
Bruce waited a moment before speaking up again, “You think your mom is betraying your dad?”
“What else is she doing? Dad said if anything happened to mom, he didn’t want to marry anyone else.”
“Not everyone agrees with that after they lose a spouse, Jon. Some people don’t like living alone, especially after being with someone for as long as she’d had Clark.” Bruce put his hand on Jon’s shoulder, hoping to act as a comfort. “I’m not saying that you can’t be hurt by your mom going out and dating again. But you can’t expect her to… To do what your dad would have done. They’re different people, ones who got along great, brought you into this world together, but your mom is…” Bruce hesitated, “She’s wonderful. Selina wondered how long she would wait before putting herself out there again.”
“So, you knew she’d date again?”
“Lois likely wants what she had with Clark again. Maybe she’ll find that spark, or maybe this tryst into dating will make her realize that she can’t replace Clark with anyone. It’s up to her what she wants in the end. You don’t really have a say unless she gives you one.” Bruce could tell that Jon didn’t appreciate the statement.
The boy’s face was now in a permanent grimace, “But… I’m her son. Shouldn’t I have a say?”
“If you truly think whom she’s dating is not good for her, yes, tell her. She’ll appreciate you being honest, but don’t just outright tell her she’s betraying Clark by going on these dates. It’ll break her heart a million different ways.” Bruce did sigh this time, “I know kids don’t usually hear these talks, but what happens if one of them passes is usually a topic that comes up from time to time. I know that Clark talked to Lois about what would happen to him, and how to handle everything. I told Selina for years the plans I had in place if I died in the field before I retired.”
“I never thought you would retire, honestly…” Jon admitted, shoe points wiggling. “Jason says the cowl has a lot of weight to it. That he can understand why you were so… deferential?”
“Jason says a lot of Shakespearean and long-worded things. I try not to think about what the criminals must think.” Bruce smirked when he heard a small huff of a laugh escape from the boy. “Though I don’t think he was trying to say deferential.”
“He says a lot of words that I don’t really get.” Jon admits, “Is it because he reads?”
“The lad read the dictionary once if it meant he could understand Dickens just that much better.” Jon threw his head back with that one.
“The dictionary?”
“Cover to cover. It was so devastating to him that he didn’t win the spelling bee that year because they had asked him to spell Milieu.” Jon’s small cackles were nice to hear, but he could see the tears that were still shining in the edges of his eyes. “Jon, are you afraid that your mom dating means… You’ll lose your father?”
Jon went rigid. “No.”
“Dick felt that way when he first moved in with me… It’s not… Dick still sees John Grayson as his father over me. You don’t ever have to put someone else in your father's place.”
“I know that!” Bruce waited. Jon, for all accounts, was hurting deeply. He’d talked with Jon before about Clark, how he was feeling, and what it meant to lose a parent. Dick also talked to him, but Bruce wasn’t sure what he had told the boy. For the most part, Bruce knew that Jon had taken years to get out of his sad reverie, this felt like a setback, but it obviously was more than just ‘betrayal’. “I know that…”
Jon was back to hugging his knees. “So, what are you afraid of then?”
The younger man hugged himself tighter, “Mom… She…” Jon sniffled again, this time deeper. Bruce decided to take pity on the kid and pulled him in for a side hug, which Jon took as an excuse to grab him around his middle. He groaned at the tight squeeze, but he knew that Jon wouldn’t hurt him intentionally. Like his father, Jon was emotional. He was a good contrast to the blankness that is Damian, who was far too serious most of the time. Jon reminded him of Dick in a way, with his bright smiles and reserved kind words for those he considered close. Just like with Dick, it was strange and unnatural to see such a bright lad torn down to tears. “Why am I not enough?”
If he weren’t so close to Jon, Bruce wasn’t sure he would have heard him. “Enough?”
“Enough for mom? I thought… I thought we would be closer. Like dad was with Grandma Kent after Pa died. I thought she would do what Ma did, and just…” Jon curled up more into Bruce’s side. “I want my mom back from before he… Mom used to bake all the time. She learned Ma Kent’s pie recipe. She was really good at it! And she said we’d go back to the farm sometime. That was months ago!” Bruce could feel the wet spot spreading on his sweater. He told himself that Alfred wouldn’t mind the dry cleaning.
“You think your mom has changed?”
“She has!” Jon let go of Bruce’s midriff to start talking with his hands slightly. It was more exaggerated movements at best. “She doesn’t do anything anymore. Perry has called her so much these last couple of weeks, I overheard him telling her that she’s not breaking stories anymore. He said her writing is going bad.” Jon waved his hand towards the sky, “He wanted her to go get the scoop on some gala happening at Luthor’s place, but she refused and said that she would just take the sports section. She HATES sports! Perry told her that, but she wouldn’t budge.”
Bruce had to admit that wasn’t like Lois at all, but he could understand it. She hated sports, but she hated missing Clark more. They often worked as a pair when hunting for stories. Lois was a lot more willing to get them into trouble, but Clark mostly tagged along just to make sure she didn’t get in over her head. With Jon… He was sure Lois was counting the days until Jon became the “new” Superman.
It was probably killing her inside.
“It is close to the anniversary, Jon. She could be feeling your father’s absence worse right now.” Jon dropped his arms and went back to hugging him.
“But that doesn’t mean she has to stop doing what she loves…” Bruce smiled lightly at the boy. Ever the momma’s boy. “I just… I don’t want her to talk to these guys who might not want the best for her, you know?”
“I know.”
“Good.” Jon started to rub absentmindedly at Bruce’s sweater, moving it slowly between his fingers. They sat there for a while, looking up at the stars that were far harder to see when Bruce would look up from the skyscrapers of Gotham. “Dad talked about you a lot when I was a kid.”
“Did he now?”
“Yeah, you really taught him a lot about what it meant to be a dad.” Bruce blinked back tears. Damnit Boy Scout. Even from the grave! “I thought… The notes he left… He wrote a lot about phone conversations he would have with you about all of them. He mentioned how he watched you interact with Dick when he was Robin, and when Jason was younger. He didn’t have a lot of know-how with Tim, but he wrote a LOT about Damian.”
Bruce smirked, “I’m sure he did. Damian tried to maim your father many times when they’d first met.”
“Dad wrote about that. He said that Damian was your toughest battle.”
“Writing my deep secrets. It’s like he wanted to embarrass me.” Jon chuckled wetly and just settled harder into Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce didn’t mind, it reminded him of Dick and his tendency to flop over Bruce when he was in a cuddling mood. He was an expecting father now… Huh… Hope he likes broken light fixtures.
“I guess… In a way, I saw you as like… My uncle? But something closer than that.” Bruce tilted his head to the side and thought.
“Godfather?”
“Yeah, but we aren’t catholic.”
“You don’t have to be catholic to have a Godfather.”
“Dad mentioned I would go to you if both of them died.” Bruce stiffened. Clark had mentioned something like that to him before, but Ma Kent had still been alive then. He had insisted he put his mother down. The freaking gall on that man! “I know only he passed away but… I feel like your advice the last couple of years… You’ve been able to help me. I just, no offense, that…” He was still here to raise me himself.
Bruce knew. He KNEW what Jon was trying to say. With Alfred, he had wished and prayed that it could have been his father there to raise him. Teach him to shave. Hand off the company to him. Bruce would have given up everything if it meant he could share those moments with them.
Jon pulled away and wiped at his eyes. “Mom’s home,” Jon whispered.
“Are you going to go meet him?”
“She’s alone.” Bruce pursed his lips slightly. “I’m gonna… I’m…” Jon seemed indecisive. He looked at Bruce then he looked off towards the house that Clark had bought them and paid for. “Can I come over tomorrow? I know that the media will start stirring up again and I just…”
“Let your mom know, and I’ll tell Alfred to plan for you. Damian will be pleased to have you around. He and Tim have been having a friendly go at each other, and I’m sure he’d appreciate the extra help with the prank he’s planning.”
“I’m a little scared now, Tim is a lot more ruthless when it comes to getting back at Damian.” Bruce chuckled.
“I’ll try to get him to spare you.” Jon waved his hand.
“Nah, I’ll deserve it if it’s really bad. But I’ll keep that in mind if I don’t contribute much.” Jon stood up. Bruce noted that from where he was sitting, Jon was nearly his father’s height. “Thank you… I don’t think I’m fully okay, but… Thanks for listening and the advice.”
“Next time, feel free to call. Alfred was rather concerned when you were up here and not asking for anything.” Jon smiled and lifted into the air in that effortless way that only Superman could.
“Bye, Mr. Wayne.”
“Goodbye Superman.” With that, Jon shot off, and Bruce trekked back down to the manor. At the base of the attic stairs stood his children. Jason was watching him with narrowed eyes, while Dick looked dead on his feet. Barbara was likely restless and he had complained before about not getting enough sleep from her kicking.
It was Damian who stepped forward, though not much as Tim was leaning heavily on him to stay upright. Huzzah for drugged tea. “What did Jonathan need?”
“To talk.”
“About?”
Bruce shrugged and kept walking. It wasn’t his son's business what he and Jon talked about. If they wanted to know, like the gossips they are, then they could talk to Jon themselves. But for now, he was off to find Alfred. The butler would need to make a grocery run.