Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nightwing tasted blood as he lay on the ground of the warehouse. “What’s the matter, Dick?” The black-haired figure mocked him, raising his gun. “Fight gone out of you already?”

“Jason,” Dick started, trying to get to his feet, but the stab of pain from the bullet buried in his left thigh prevented him from getting up. “Jason, please.”

“Too late for that,” Jason pointed out, fingering the white stripe in his hair from the Lazarus Pit. “Always too late for me, isn’t it?”

“It’s never—” Dick began.

“What about him though?” Jason asked suddenly, pointing to Tim’s unconscious form on the ground nearby. “Do you think it’s too late for him? Too late for the replacement?”

“Jason, leave him out of this!” Dick pleaded. “Jason, leave him alone!”

“Everyone was too late to save me,” Jason said, aiming his gun at Tim. “Do you think you’ll be able to save this one?”

Dick forced himself to his feet, and lunged at Jason. Jason laughed and dodged, firing another bullet at Dick. Dick cried out in pain as that bullet went through his other leg, sending him to the floor. “Jason…” he hissed. “Please.”

Jason glared at him, raising an eyebrow. “Fine then,” Jason said, aiming the gun at Dick instead. “Let’s see if he actually will avenge you.”

The gun went off again.

“Dick? Wake up!” Someone shook his shoulder, dragging Dick out of his dreams. “Come on Dick-face, we’re going patrolling!”

“Wha?” Dick said, voice thick with sleep.

“I said,” Jason Todd said, looking at his older brother with amused skepticism, “That we’re going patrolling. Timmy’s off with the Team, so that means I get to be Robin for Gotham tonight.”

Dick reached up and grabbed Jason, pulling his little brother into a tight hug.

“Gah! Dick, let me go!” Jason flailed in Nightwing’s tight grip. “What the hell?”

“I dreamed we lost you again,” Dick admitted.

“Ah, c’mon,” Jason scoffed, but going limp in Dick’s tight hug. “Even I’m not that dumb.”

“You’re not dumb, Little Wing,” Dick reprimanded, ruffling Jason’s hair, avoiding the white Lazarus strip.

“If I went and got myself killed again, I must be,” Jason said, pausing before hugging Dick back. Dick didn’t correct Jason. “Now come on! The badguys aren’t going to catch themselves!”

“Meet you down in the Cave in five,” Dick responded, finally letting go of Jason. Jason grinned, and left Dick’s room.

He glanced at the photograph beside his bed, which showed Jason, Tim, and himself roughhousing on the couch, three weeks after they had rescued Jason, fresh from the Lazarus Pit. He swallowed the small lump in his throat, wondering what might have happened to Jason if they hadn’t received a tip off from someone in the League of Shadows about Ra’s al Ghul’s resurrection plans for the second Robin. He pushed that thought away, and grabbed his Nightwing costume.

His family was together again, and stronger than ever.

He grabbed his phone, and typed a quick text to Tim. Going patrolling with R2. See you tomorrow! -N

His phone buzzed almost right away with Tim’s response. Mission going well. Expect to be back at MJ in one hour. See you tomorrow. Say hi to R2 for me. -R1.

Chapter Text

Every night, Babs dreams of that moment.

She opens the door, still talking to her dad in the next room. “Hello, Miss Gordan!” says the voice on the other side, and she freezes. It’s the Joker.

The bullet goes off, and Babs is aware of herself falling to the ground, unable to feel anything below her waist. Something is very, very wrong.

She can’t move her legs.

The Joker walks over her, going for her dad now. “Dad!” she screams, wondering what the monster is going to do to her father.

“Barbara!”

Babs woke up, shivering. She sat up in bed, wrapping her arms around herself. She rolled over, and got out of bed, just to prove to that stupid dream that she could still walk. It was just a nightmare. It didn’t mean anything.

She walked into the kitchen of the apartment she shared with her dad, and flicked the switch on the electric kettle.

Her father was standing in the kitchen, looking through the fridge for the leftovers that she had put in there for him that night. She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Hey Dad!”

“Hey kiddo,” he said, grinning at her tiredly. “Did I wake you up?”

“No,” she said truthfully. “I woke up on my own. Do you want some tea?”

“Sure thing,” James Gordan said, smiling at his daughter. Babs smiled back, and went to get the mugs.

“Rough night?” She asked, glad that she had beaten him home from her patrol with Dick this time. He was probably very suspicious about her nightly activities by now.

“Not too bad,” he said, removing the tinfoil from the plate of meatloaf that she had made earlier that evening. “Batman dropped off a lead though, so I’ll probably be up all night tomorrow. Do you think you could arrange to be somewhere? I hate leaving you here all alone all night.”

Babs nodded, wondering what Bruce had tipped her dad off about. Black Mask was doing another smuggling operation down by the docks, maybe that was it. “Sure thing. It’s been ages since I’ve gone to Artemis’s place.” Luckily for her, her dad wasn’t aware that Artemis’s place was in a different state. She didn’t want to have to explain about zeta-stations to him.

“Good,” James said, smiling as he pushed the appropriate buttons on the microwave. “I know it’s silly, but I worry.”

“It’s not silly,” Babs told him, smiling. “I worry about you too.”

He smiled, and kissed her forehead, fetching his food from the microwave afterwards.

Her dad sat down at their small table, and Babs sat down across from him, clutching her mug of tea tightly, while her father dug into the mediocre meal that Babs had prepared.

“This is very good,” he said, swallowing a mouthful.

Babs rolled her eyes. “I ate it too, Dad. I know how bad it is. You don’t need to lie to make me feel better.”

He chuckled quietly. “Still better than anything I can cook.”

“I seem to recall that you make a pretty mean grilled cheese sandwich,” Babs said, smiling as she took a sip from her tea.

“My specialty,” James Gordan said, smiling back.

Babs reached out, and placed her hand on top of her fathers. “I love you dad.”

“I love you too,” the Commissioner told him daughter, smiling.

Chapter Text

Artemis always dreamed in fragments. Tiny little moments of a life that she would never live.

…She gripped her bow and took aim at the man who was holding her husband in a headlock, smirking like a maniac. “Who are you?”

“My name is Zoom,” the man declared…

… “Mom?” Artemis cried, holding her mother’s broken form tightly. “Mom, please wake up! Please!”…

… “I can’t be the Flash, Artemis, I can’t,” Wally pleaded with her as he looked down at the costume that he carried in his hands.

“But you need to be,” Artemis reminded him, voice soft…

…“WALLY!” She screamed, her voice breaking as her father held Wally tight in his grasp. Without a second thought, her arrow was loose, burying itself in her father’s throat…

… “Will you look after the twins for me?” Iris asked, pale and thin with the illness. “If something happens to me. Now that Barry’s gone…”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” Artemis promised, holding Iris’s hand. “You’re strong enough for this.”…

… Zoom snapped his fingers, and Artemis screamed out in pain as she was thrown backwards, away from that monster. Her hands went to her stomach, trying to protect the twins…

… “My fault,” Wally said, slumping against her. “I should have been there, I should have stopped him—” He was crying as they stood over the two little graves, which read JAIDEN AND IRIS WEST…

… “Aunty Artemis!” Don and Dawn wrapped their arms around her.

Artemis smiled at the ten year old twins, and hugged them tightly, ignoring the guilty part of her brain that wished that she was embracing her own twins. “I kept my promise Iris. I did,” she whispered into their hair…

… “You need to do what needs to be done, Wally,” Zoom said, gripping a civilian tightly, with a knife against the man’s throat. “You need to stop ‘playing nice,’ and just cross the line already.”

“I won’t,” Wally said grimly. “I made a promise. And I’m not going to break it for you, Zoom.”

“You’re a fool,” Zoom said, shaking his head. “And you’re going to force me to take further steps.” He dropped the civilian to the ground, and moved towards Wally. Wally tried to run, but Zoom was faster. There was an awful noise that sounded like bone breaking as Zoom’s hands grasped Wally’s neck, and then Artemis’s husband fell to the ground…

… “Oh, come on Artemis,” Zoom mocked, smirking at her. “Do you really think you can do anything to hurt me?”

Artemis glared at him, crossbow raised. “I can try,” she snarled. “You killed my husband, my children, and now you’re trying to kill the kids I’ve sworn to protect.”

“I’m only going to kill one of them,” Zoom protested. “And you of course. The survivor will be the greatest hero ever. Tragedy makes a great hero, Artemis. I’d have thought you knew that.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to just let it happen,” Artemis snarled, firing her crossbow.

Zoom was in front of her in instants, grabbing her throat, wrenching her crossbow out of her hand, and threw her to the ground. “Good-bye Artemis,” he told her softly, smirking.

Artemis’s vision was going blurry as the fake-speedster cut off her air supply. She had to move quickly. She thrust up her hand, revealing the hidden knife to Zoom, but only as she managed to sink it into his chest.

Zoom looked at her, eyes wide and red. “You’re going to regret that,” he hissed, thrusting his own knife into Artemis’s stomach, just as he passed out next to her, and stopped breathing.

Zoom was dead…

…“Aunt Artemis?” Dawn asked softly, as the fourteen year old girl helped her cousin-by-marriage away from Zoom’s body. Artemis clutched a hand over her bleeding stomach, feeling light headed already. “Are you going to be okay?”

“No honey,” Artemis whispered softly. “I’m not.”

“But you won, right?” Don demanded, anxious.

“I won,” Artemis said quietly. “I did.”

And then she fell to the ground, her eyes sinking shut…

Artemis opened her eyes. She was in her bed, in her bedroom, in her and Wally’s house. Wally’s arm was draped over her. She rolled over, facing her husband. Wally shifted ever so slightly, eyelids fluttering as he dreamed. She raised a hand and slowly traced his jaw line, smiling. It had all been a dream.

She pressed a kiss against Wally’s cheek, and then disentangled herself from his arm as she got out of bed.

She moved silently through the halls of her house, heading towards the twins’ bedroom.

The twins’ bedrooms were sort of a joke for the entire Justice League. Jai and Irey were well loved by all of their honorary aunts, uncles, grandparents, great-aunts, great-uncles, and cousins, and it had become a competition between all of the heroes to see who could get the most memorabilia into their rooms. And thus Irey had a Superman bedspread, with Wonder Woman sheets, while Jai had a Batman quilt and Green Lantern sheets. An enormous action figure collection covered an entire shelf, and the walls and ceilings of the room were coated in posters, newspaper clippings, and photographs. Artemis smiled to herself as she glanced at the gigantic Flash family poster above Irey’s bed, which featured Jay, Barry, Wally, and Bart, and the Arrow family one above Jai’s, which had Ollie, Dinah, both Roys, Cissie, Mia, and even Artemis.

She entered the room, careful to tread lightly. They were her children, after all. She frowned as she noted that Jai had gone to sleep with his bow again. She blamed Roy for that. He was a bad influence on her son. She reached over and grabbed the bow, placing it on the floor lightly. Jai turned over in his sleep, tightly clutching the tiny little Nightwing plushie that Dick had given him.

Artemis leaned over and brushed a strand of bright red hair out of his face, pressing a kiss to his forehead as she did so. She then stepped over the Justice League chess set that Tim had given them, and did the same for Irey.

She glanced at the photographs on the dressing table, smiling as she looked at them. There was the one of her entire family—Arrows, Flashes, her mother, her sister, Lian, and the twins—the one of a delighted looking M’gann holding the two infant twins, the one of an eight year old Lian cheerfully supervising Don, Dawn, Irey and Jai in a tea party, the one of Dick, Jason, Tim, and the twins, the one of the Flash supporting a twin on each shoulder… and Artemis’s personal favorite, and the newest, the one of her eager, cheerful nine-year olds trapping a squirming, protesting, furious Damian Wayne in a sandwich hug.

She left their room, careful not to trip over the rest of the twins’ plushie collection— the Marvel family, Zatanna, and the Batfamily (minus Nightwing) were currently in battle against Mr. Potato Head and his evil army of Barbie Dolls, and Artemis had learned better than to disrupt her children’s mighty battles of good and evil.

She closed the door behind her, and turned to face her mother.

“Artemis?” Paula Crock asked, looking at her daughter.

“Hey Mom,” Artemis said, smiling. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Ah,” Paula said, shoving a grey hair out of her face. “Bad dreams again?”

“Yes,” Artemis admitted. “The same one.”

Paula took Artemis’s hand. “It’s only a dream, Artemis. You shouldn’t worry.”

“I know,” Artemis said. “But I do.”

Paula pulled her daughter down for a tight hug. “Go back to bed, Artemis. I’ll see you in the morning. We will all be here.”

Chapter Text

There was blood on his hands. Tim slowly rolled them over, feeling slightly confused at the thick coating of blood. There shouldn’t be that much blood…

“Great job, kiddo!” the Joker declared, clasping him on the shoulder. “Ain’t that right, Harley?”

“Sure was, Mista J!” Harley Quinn wrapped her arms around Tim and squeezed him tightly. “That was a great job, JJ!”

Tim looked up at her, face blank. “She’s not moving anymore,” he said quietly, looking down at the corpse on the floor. “She’s not screaming anymore.”

“Ah, Junior,” the Joker said, smiling in a way that would have made the old Tim Drake want to run away. But this Tim Drake was cold and broken, and that smile just meant no more pain. “You still have so much to learn?”

“I do?” Tim asked, and his eyes lit up. He liked learning, that much remained of his former self.

“Oh yes!” Joker ruffled his hair. “Come on, kiddo, the family’s leaving.”

Family. Tim liked the sound of that.

His eyes flew open, and Tim woke up in his bed in Wayne Manor, drenched in sweat. “Just a dream,” he whispered, clenching his fists, which were white, scarred and calloused, but definitely not covered in blood. “Just a dream.”

He sat up, and glanced at the clock beside his bed. 12:14. He reached over, and grabbed his phone. He flipped open the device and quickly typed in a password—Robin’s password, not Tim’s.

He selected a contact, and pressed the dial button.

He listened to it ring; once, twice, three times…

“Hey Robin!” A perky, very female voice said.

“Hey Spoiler,” he responded, a grin tugging at the side of his mouth. “Just wanted to know if you’d be up for patrol tonight.”

She laughed, and he grinned fully. “Aren’t I always?”

“I just thought that you might want to work on that history project of yours,” he said.

“As if! It’s completely finished,” Spoiler laughed. She then paused, and he could imagine how she was narrowing her eyes at the phone. “And how did you know that I had a history project? Have you been spying on me again, Boy Wonder?”

“Only a little,” he replied, not admitting that he was her partner for said project, and it was nice to hear that she was done with her half. “So, meet me on top of your apartment building in twenty minutes?”

“It’s a date!” She said, smirk audible in her voice. “So, you going to let me peek under that mask tonight?”

“Not a chance,” he said in a heartbeat. “Sorry.” He added a second later as an afterthought.

“Nah, it’s fine. Bat’s orders and all that jazz. But I will succeed! One day!”

“Good luck with that,” he said, allowing himself to channel Dick for a little bit there.

“I know you can’t see it, but I’m sticking my tongue out at you.” She then hung up.

He placed his phone back in its regular place on his dresser, and then headed down to the Cave.

Jason was already there, sitting in Bruce’s big chair, alternating between playing video-games and looking at some weird things that looked suspiciously like some of Dick’s attempts at costume designing. Somehow, Tim was not surprised.

“Hey Timmy,” Jason called without looking up. “Going out tonight?”

“I’m surprised you hadn’t already beat me too it,” he admitted.

“Promised B I wouldn’t tonight,” Jason said, swiveling the chair to face Tim. “He gets worried if I go out when the Joker’s not in Arkham.”

“I think it’s not just Batman,” Tim said, glancing at the spot where Jason’s memorial case stood.

“Yeah, well,” Jason said, studiously not following Tim’s gaze, “I thought I’d use the spare time to work on my new identity.”

“Any luck with a code-name?”

“Not yet,” Jason said. “I mean, I’ve narrowed it down to Red Robin or Blue Jay, but I can’t decide.”

“So, you’re ignoring Dick’s pleas for a Flamebird to his Nightwing then?”

Jason snorted. “Only in Dick’s weirdest dreams would that happen.”

“I don’t know,” Tim said, raising an eyebrow. “Did he ever tell you about the dream when the palm trees came to life and stole all of Alfred’s cookies?”

Jason laughed. “What, did he eat all of Wally’s pizza before going to bed or something?”

“He won’t admit it, but that’s probably what happened,” Tim agreed.

Jason swung around again, squinting at what appeared to be a logo of sorts. “Well, have fun with Spoiler.”

“How did…”

“She just texted Artemis, who texted me.”

“Should we be worried about how well Artemis and Spoiler get along?” Tim asked as he went to get his costume.

“Eh, probably. But they said the same thing about Wally and Dick, and look how well that turned out!”

Tim snorted. “Well, see you later Jason.”

“Be safe Timmy.”

Chapter Text

Zatanna glared at Klarion, clutching her bleeding midsection.

“Poor little baby,” Klarion mocked, stroking Teekle with one hand as he strode towards her. “Magic all gone, daddy dead…”

“He’s not dead!” Zatanna snapped, refusing to look at the crumpled form of Doctor Fate behind her. “And I’ve still got some magic left! Dnes eht hctiw yob kcab ot erehw eh emac morf!” A bolt of golden energy leapt from her, wrapping itself around Klarion and his familiar, trying to contain the Lord of Chaos. Zatanna felt sweat forming on her forehead, and every instinct in her body told her to stop this. She didn’t have the energy for it; she couldn’t sustain a spell that strong.

Klarion let out a cackle as he shed the wave of her magic as if it had been a cloak. “That the best you can do?” He strode towards her, manic smile twisting his feature into his more demonic visage. “Yitcirtcele,” he added, waving his hand, and Zatanna screamed as lightning coursed through her.

“No,” she muttered, gritting her teeth. She would not give up. Not now. “Dnes eht hctiw yob kcab ot erehw eh emac morf!” She threw both of her hands foreward, ignoring the part of her that tried to remind her that she should keep pressure on her wound, stop herself from bleeding out.

The golden light wrapped around Klarion once again. Zatanna closed her eyes, seeking the energy to banish the Witch Boy within her. Her heart plummeted as she saw that she had very little left; except for her own life-force.

She hesitated. This was the only way to get rid of Klarion; it would take the Lord of Chaos centuries to get back to this realm. If he ever bothered, that was.

And then she seized her life-force, and threw it into her spell.

The light blazed so brightly that she was blinded for a few seconds, and when it cleared, Klarion and Teekl were gone. Her spell had worked. She fell to her knees.

She looked over at the crumpled form of Doctor Fate, and forced herself to go towards him.

His eyes—still her father’s, much to her sorrow in her years in the Justice League—were open, but vacant. Zatanna swallowed, and reached down, as she had when she was fourteen and on the Watchtower, after having saved Doctor Fate.

She pulled off the Helmet, and the magic around her father faded, revealing Giovanni Zatara’s dead body for the first time in ten long years.

She threw the Helmet away, letting it clang against the rocks. She then laid down next to her dad, and waited as her heartbeats grew slower and slower…

“Zatanna? Zatanna!”

Zatanna’s eyes flew open, and she looked up at the form of her father, who was holding her hand, looking concerned. She must have been screaming in her sleep.

“Dad,” she muttered, launching herself at Giovanni. She wrapped her arms around him, not caring that she was supposed to be twenty-one and dignified. She buried her face in his shoulder, and held onto him as if he were her only lifeline.

“It’s alright Zatanna,” Giovanni said, stroking her hair, as he had when she had been young. “Everything’s alright.”

She breathed slowly, savoring this moment with her father. She finally lifted her head, looking her father in the eye. “I know Dad,” she said, smiling. “I know.”

He smiled at her. “Shall we set up a nightmare ward? Or are you too old for one of those?” His eyes twinkled.

“I’m never too old for nightmare wards,” she said, grinning. She got out of bed, and the two of them headed down to the kitchen in their house.

“Nommus eht stneidergni,” Zatara muttered, waving his hand at the cupboards and refrigerator, which flew open, and ingredients slowly levitated themselves onto the countertops. Zatanna smiled enviously—whenever she tried that spell, the ingredients tended to fly at top speed, making a mess.

“Ew deen a lwob dna gnixim noops,” Zatanna said, pointing at the drawers, and grinned as a battered wooden bowl—it had been a wedding present for her parents—and a spoon emerged and landed in her hands.

She started to measure out flour and sugar, while her father turned his attention to the butter. “Tlem eth rettub,” he said, unwrapping it and tossing it into a measuring cup. The whole thing flared gold, and when the light faded, Zatanna could smell melted butter.

“Ruop a spuc fo klim,” Zatanna added over her shoulder, and the milk poured itself over the measuring cup, and Giovanni started mixing. Carefully, he then added two eggs—without magic. Zatanna had learned the problems of using magic on something as delicate as eggs when she was five; after she had coated the entire kitchen with eggshell fragments.

“I’ve got the dry ingredients ready,” Zatanna told her father.

“Enibmoc eht serutxim,” Giovanni said, and his measuring cup full of buttery-milky-eggy goodness flew over and added itself to Zatanna’s bowl.

“Rits,” Zatanna said, waving her hand over the bowl, which instantly started churning itself.

“Your first spell,” Zatara said, looking at her. “Do you remember?”

“We were making this, weren’t we?” She asked, watching as the batter started to form.

“Yes. You were four, and had not even begun your magical training yet. But you already were learning to say things backwards, and were always trying to do magic.” He smiled at her. “I was so proud of you.”

Zatanna smiled at her dad. “I remember. I was so happy. I knew I was going to be a magician… just like you.”

He squeezed her hand. They stood in silence for a few moments, before they started moving again.

Zatanna threw out her hands. “Onto eht eldirg!” The batter set itself to work, forming neat little circles.

Now there was nothing to do but wait. Not even hesitating, Zatanna wrapped her arms around her dad, clinging to him shamelessly.

Zatanna Zatara had been fourteen when she had lost her father. Seven years later, she had finally gotten him back. She saw no reason to be ashamed of this.

He hugged her tightly. “If I live a hundred years,” he whispered, “I will never be able to thank Kent Nelson enough for taking my place in the Helmet.”

“I still can’t believe he did,” Zatanna whispered. “After what happened to you… to his great uncle… I can’t believe that anyone would ever want that.”

“Nabu can be oddly… persuasive,” Zatara said, pulling away slightly, so they could look at each other. “However, I will never be able to forgive him for separating me from you for all these years.”

Zatanna smiled, and hugged him again. “I love you Dad. And I missed you too.”

“And, I believe our nightmare wards are finished,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Come along now. They aren’t as effective if you wait.”

Zatanna laughed, and fetched plates and maple syrup.

“Daddy, why do pancakes help my nightmares?” A seven year old Zatanna asked, carefully pouring maple syrup over her pancakes.

Giovanni smiled at her. “Happiness chases away the nightmares.”

Chapter Text

There was rubble everywhere. Roy stumbled through the ruins of his home, tasting blood, but ignoring it. “Lian!” He cried, his voice hoarse. “Lian!”

He heard Ollie calling for him in the distance, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He had hidden her there. It was supposed to be safe.

He shoved aside a chunk of rubble, searching for his baby girl. “Lian!”

Artemis was shouting as well, not for him, for Lian. For that he is numbly grateful. At least she, unlike Ollie, understands what is important.

There is a cry of pain, somewhere nearby, and he launches himself over the nearest chunk of rubble, praying to something, anything, that it will be Lian.

He revokes the prayer the minute he can see.

Jade, her mask on the ground, kimono in tatters, is kneeling on the ground; cradling a form with red hair. She’s crying, which is wrong in every way possible, because Jade Nguyen never cries, but even that is not as wrong as the fact that the body with red hair, which is dressed in that same set of clothes he set out for Lian this morning, because the body is not moving. It couldn’t be Lian, it couldn’t be Lian, it couldn’t be Lian. Lian Nguyen-Harper couldn’t be dead. She was supposed to be going over to Artemis’s that afternoon to play with Don and Dawn, she couldn’t be dead…

He felt himself start to cry, and he brushed a single strand of red hair out of not-Lian’s face.

“This is your fault,” Jade snarled, trying to pull Lia—the body away from him.

He couldn’t talk. His throat was closed shut by tears and illogical sorrow. (They were illogical because Lian wasn’t dead.)

Jade cradled the corpse close to her chest, weeping as she clings. “I should kill you,” she whispers. “I should.”

He still couldn’t speak, but he finds himself nodding, which doesn’t make sense, since why would Jade want to kill him, and why would he agree with her? It’s not like that girl was Lian. It wasn’t Lian.

He reached out for her, but she pulled away, glaring through her tears. They sat there in silence for a few moments, before Jade broke down again. “She… she was our baby.”

And she was. Lian Nguyen-Harper was dead.

Roy’s eyes flew open, and he stared right into Jade’s; which, like his, were freshly open and panicked.

“Jade,” he said, touching her face gently.

“Roy…” He reached for her, and she for him. It was borderline frantic, the way they clung to each other, and Roy somehow knew that she had seen the exact same thing that he had.

After a few precious moments spent in their spouse’s arms, they relaxed. “We should go check on Lian,” Jade whispered. “See if…”

“We should,” he agreed instantly, although normally he would have reminded Jade that they were safe here. This was not the Shadows, where every moment had to be spent in fear.

Jade swung her legs over the side of the bed, just as the door to their bedroom swung open.

“Mommy? Daddy?” A very small voice asked, and the tension escaped Roy in an instant. Lian.

“Yes Lian?” He asked, getting out of bed and walking towards his daughter. Jade did the same.

“I had a bad dream,” Lian muttered, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her left hand, the small teddy bear that had once belonged to Artemis Crock dangling from the other. “Can I sleep with you?”

“Of course Kitten,” Jade replied, scooping Lian up into her arms. “Come on Red.”

The two of them resettled in their bed, this time with Lian and her teddy bear squashed firmly between them.

“Can I have a bedtime story?”

“Didn’t you already have one tonight?” Roy couldn’t help but ask, although he knew the answer, and didn’t really mind telling another.

“So?” Lian asked, curious eyes gleaming up at him.

Jade let out a chuckle. “Your father’s being silly. What story do you want? Alice and the Cheshire Cat?”

“You always tell that one,” Lian complained, pulling the teddy bear closer to her chest.

“Robin Hood then?” Roy suggested innocently, although he was aware that he told that story just as often as Jade told Alice in Wonderland.

Lian stuck her tongue out at him. “Can you tell me a story about you and Mommy?”

“Sure thing,” Jade said, smiling triumphantly. Doubtlessly, she had a story prepared about an embarrassing incident of his that she had been present for.

“Can you tell about the time that Daddy ended up on top of the Empire State building wearing a dress?” Lian asked innocently.

“That’s it,” Roy said flatly. “You are not allowed to go to Gotham anymore.”

“But I like Uncle Nightwing!” Lian pouted.

“I don’t care, he’s a bad influence on you if he tells stories like that.”

“But Daddy…” Lian crossed her arms over the teddy bear, and then looked contemplative. “Can you tell me about the time that Mommy and Uncle Kaldur went to Canada—”

“That’s it, you are not going to Aunty Artemis’s anytime soon,” Jade said, cutting off that story before it began.

“Wasn’t that the time you met that group of cosplayers?” He asked her, raising an eyebrow.

“I refuse to answer that question,” Jade said flatly.

He snorted. “Did I ever tell you about the time that your mommy introduced me to your grandmother?”

“No,” Lian said, eager.

“Well, it was about a year after your mother and I had started dating. We had gone to Gotham to look for a lead on Uncle Roy—”

“Ron,” Lian corrected.

“Uncle Ron,” Roy continued, rolling his eyes. “So your mother told me that we were going to a safe-house of hers for the night…”

“What happened next was not my fault, Lian,” Jade told her daughter seriously. “Your father is just a klutz, and jumped to conclusions about what I meant by ‘safe house’.”

“So I went in first, as usual, because your mother had to watch my back. As I open the window, three arrows go over my head. I fire my bow, and before you know it, I’ve managed to get into a shooting match with your Aunt Artemis.”

“Did you win?” Lian asked.

“No,” Jade said, smirking.

“I would have!” Roy protested, “If your grandma hadn’t come in at that moment, and tried to concuss me with Escirma sticks!”

“Grandma hit you?” Lian asked, sounding amazed.

“Don’t be so surprised, Kitten,” Jade whispered, stroking her daughter’s hair. “Before she had her fall, Grandma Paula fought Grandma Dinah to a standstill.”

“She did?” Lian’s eyes were the size of saucers.

“Oh yes,” Jade said, smiling. “You have the best role models.”

Roy laughed. “And then, once Grandma Crock had figured out who I was, she threatened me again.”

“Why?”

“She said that if I hurt your mother, she would take those Escirma sticks of hers, and hit me with them until I could never pick up a bow again.”

“But if you hurt Mommy, Mommy would hurt you before Grandma could get to you,” Lian pointed out, puzzled.

“That’s what I said,” he told her. “Aunt Artemis agreed, and then she told me to get out of her room.”

“Artemis always was fond of her personal space…” Jade said fondly.

“And that, Lian, is the story about how I met your grandmother.”

“That was a good story Daddy,” Lian said, snuggling against him.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he said, petting her hair. “Now go to sleep.”

“’Night Daddy. ’Night Mommy.”

“Goodnight Kitten.”

“’Night sweetheart.”

There was beautiful peace as Lian rested between her parents.

Then Lian’s eyes opened for a brief moment.

“Mommy, tomorrow will you tell me about how you met Grandpa Ollie?”

Jade and Roy’s eyes met. Jade looked slightly worried.

“If she doesn’t, I will,” Roy promised Lian, much too Jade’s dismay.

Chapter Text

He’s in Vietnamese Lit Class when the world ends.

Well, not officially.

But close enough.

The world ends in the form of a text message from his best friend. It’s brief, it’s simple, it’s quick, and it makes Wally’s heart go faster than a fight with the Joker.

‘You’re need in Central. Flash fighting unknown villain. He’s losing. Help. –N’

He mutters an excuse to the teacher and flees the room, (too slow, too slow, too slow).

He runs to the house and grabs his costume. He wants to leaves a note for Artemis; but she’ll understand. Dick probably texted her as well.

He runs to the Zeta-Station. (Too slow, too slow, too slow.) Nightwing must have prepared the tubes for his arrival, because he doesn’t even need to say the over-ride, he’s simply transported to Central. (Hurry, hurry, hurry.)

He arrives at the Flash’s side a minute later. (Too long, too long, far too long.) Uncle Barry gives him a tired grin. “Good to see you,” he says.

“Good to be here,” Wally replies, and he means it.

The Flash fills him in on the situation. Neutron uses the precious few seconds it takes to blow up more cars.

“Give me your goggles Kid,” Barry says, hand reaching. Wally doesn’t hesitate. (What are you doing, what are you doing, what are you thinking?) He says something about sub-lightspeed travel, and takes off. Wally’s confused; there wasn’t an opening.

But he stays back, because he knows that Barry’s faster than him, (faster, faster, always faster) and maybe Barry had seen something that Wally’s slower (slow, slow, too slow to be the Flash’s sidekick) eyes couldn’t.

And then everything goes wrong. (Wrong, wrong, wrong, you idiot, how could you…) Barry falls. And Wally is moving toward him, (fast, fast, faster, faster, YOU NEED TO GO FASTER) because Barry needs him, he needs to get Barry out of there, he needs to save him, he needs to help him.

(Slow, slow, you’re always too slow.)

He’s not fast enough. (You never will be.)

The world ends in a fire wave from that… Neutron. It ends, and Wally falls to his knees. (Your fault, your fault, your fault.)

He’s always too slow.

(You can never be the Flash.)

And the world ends that day.

(A mockery of the legacy.)

Or at least it feels like it does.

(You call yourself a hero.)

“Wally, you’re dreaming,” Artemis muttered in his ear, her voice soft and warm and welcome. She ran her fingers through his hair. “Wally, everything is fine.”

“I know babe,” he responded sleepily. “I know.”

“Go back to sleep babe,” she ordered gently, pulling him close. “Dick’s coming over tomorrow, and you’ll need to be alert.”

“He’s brinin’ Damian, isn’t he?”

“Yes.” Her lips brushed against his temple. “Now sleep.”

“Yes ma’am,” he muttered, and let sleep take him again.

When he woke up, he felt much better. Artemis was already gone, and the smell of Paula’s waffles was in the air. He leapt to his feet and sped-changed into his clothes, grinning as he heard Jai and Irey argue over the maple syrup.

He only went slightly above human speed to get to the kitchen, because Paula and Artemis both had very strict rules about super-speed in the house, and he needed to set a good example for Irey.

He entered the kitchen, grinning at the scene in front of him. Artemis was fixing coffee, a wry smile on her face as she watched the twins cheerfully compete for their grandmother’s attention. Paula was studiously ignoring them, focusing instead on placing the waffles onto a plate.

“Gramma, what kind of waffles are they?” Irey asked, grey eyes wide and cheerful.

Paula rolled her eyes good naturedly at Artemis, and passed the two plates to the energetic twins. “Regular, with strawberries.”

“Thank you, Gramma!” They chorused in unison, before running to the table.

“No running in the house!” Artemis called.

Wally wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her shoulder. “They’ll learn eventually. I did.”

Artemis laughed. “Took you years though.”

“You had less experience then,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Good morning Paula!”

“Good morning Wally.” Paula said, pouring more batter into the waffle iron. “Sleep well?”

“Decently,” he lied with a shrug. Artemis raised an eyebrow, but ignored it otherwise. “Dick’s late again, I see,” he added, glancing at the clock.

“He texted me,” Artemis said. “Traffic.”

“Traffic traffic, or ‘I’m secretly fighting badguys but am to paranoid to actually say so’ traffic?” Wally asked, taking the cup of coffee Artemis was offering.

“No comment,” Dick announced cheerfully, entering the kitchen, trailed by a wary looking nine-year old.

“DAMIAN!” The twins shouted together, and flew towards their friend, tackling him to the ground with a huge hug.

“West! West! Get off me!”

“NEVER!” Irey declared.

“Ever!” Jai agreed, beaming.

“Grayson!”

“Sort it out yourself, Damian!” Dick retorted, hugging Wally and Artemis.

“Just in time,” Artemis said, pouring Dick a mug of coffee. “How are the others?”

“They’re good! Tim’s spending the day with Bart, Steph’s hanging out with Kara, Cass is babysitting Terry and Matt, and Jason’s on a date with Donna.”

“About time too,” Paula said, removing the waffle from the iron.

“Hello Paula!” Dick declared, swooping down to kiss the elderly Vietnamese woman on the cheek. “How are you this fine morning?”

“I’m fine, thank you Dick,” Paula said with a smile, passing him the plate of waffles.

“I’ll start eggs,” Artemis said with a sigh.

“I brought donuts,” Dick offered with a smirk.

Wally clapped his best friend over the shoulder. “You are an excellent friend.”

“You spoil the kids,” Artemis called, rummaging in the fridge for the egg carton.

“Ah, they’re already spoiled! I don’t see how a few more pastries will ruin them further!” Dick said, producing the large box.

Paula laughed. “You three, hurry up before the waffles get cold!”

“Yes Gramma.”

“Yes Gramma.”

“Yes Ms. Nguyen,” Damian said, going to sit between the twins.
“Sure, he obeys you,” Dick grumbled to Paula.

“Well, I would hope he’d obey his god-mother,” Paula said with a raised eyebrow, setting a plate of waffles and strawberries in front of Damian.

“Do you know what, I don’t care, that’s still weird,” Wally said to Artemis, who shrugged in return.

“Mom and Talia were best friends back in the day. Talia’s Jade and my godmother.”

“Still weird,” Dick said, looking up from his coffee with a smile.

Artemis rolled her eyes. Wally wrapped an arm around her waist, smiled, and watched as the archer, the speedster and the Robin traded sarcasm and insults over waffles.