Work Text:
Batman helped another civilian out of the rubble, carrying him out of the vertical parking garage where rescuers and firefighters were waiting.
As soon as he was sure the victim was under care, Batman looked at the damage done by the Riddler. The five-story parking garage of Gotham Central Mall was partially destroyed, luckily the structure was still stable enough for the rescue to be carried out.
Batman put his hand to his ear. "Robin, report!"
"All civilians on the five floors have been saved." the teenager's voice sounded through the communicator. "The infrared didn't detect anyone under the rubble."
"Good. Oracle, what about the damage to the structure?" The bat spotted Oracle's drone flying over the area.
"The bomb was in the northern region of the fourth floor, part of the fifth collapsed on it, both falling on the third. The second had its pillars compromised and cracks in the concrete, which are currently stable. The first had cracks in the northern region and a possible sinking into the ground." Oracle reported.
“Tell the GCPD that the structure is compromised, it will be necessary to isolate the peri—”
“Hey, Old Man!” Red Hood’s voice cut through the channel. “Riddle me: what’s green, and was it running down an alley like a fucking rat?”
“Hmm, that’s a tough one.” Nightwing hummed amusedly next to Batman. “A Martian rat?” He smiled, messing up his own hair to get the dirt out.
“Keep him under control, Gordon is already on his way.” Batman answered the rebellious vigilante. He turned off the communicator. “Has everyone received care?” he asked Nightwing.
“The most serious ones were in the ambulances and the others received first aid right here. No deaths so far, and I hope it stays that way.”
Robin left the parking lot, jumping off the edge of the second floor and landing behind them. The colors of his uniform were barely visible due to the dust.
“GCPD has arrived on site.” Oracle reopened the channel.
“Return to the cave, I have to speak with the Commissioner.” Batman dismissed them, heading to where the police cars were parked.
“I urgently need a shower.” Robin clapped his hands together, watching the dust fly off his gloves.
The Batmobile drove slowly through the streets of Gotham. After all the confusion that Nygma caused, Batman called the night, only Red Hood continued his patrol independently. The screen on the dashboard lit up indicating a call, on the display it said ‘Dr. Thompkins’.
“Batman listening.”
“Bruce, it’s an emergency!” The doctor whispered quickly. “I need type O- blood to save a child’s life, that type is in short supply and you are the fastest option at the moment!”
“Okay, I’m coming over.” Batman hung up and sped the car towards the doctor’s clinic.
It wasn’t the first time that he or the other members of the Batfamily had needed to donate blood to help accident victims, and unfortunately it wouldn’t be the last. Arriving near the clinic, he parked in a dark alley to hide the car, heading towards the back door of the clinic where Leslie Thompkins was waiting for him.
It was standard procedure: she gave him nurse's clothes, he went to the cleaning room to change, put on a surgical mask to hide his face and that was it, a simple nurse in a clinic going to donate blood. Leslie and Bruce went to the collection room that was empty, he settled into the chair while the doctor prepared everything.
“How is the child?” Bruce asked after having the needle connected to his arm.
“We managed to stop the internal bleeding, but he lost a lot of blood. He was delirious, the poor thing wouldn't stop calling for his father.” The doctor lamented.
“Has the father been located?”
“No. He didn't have any documents or a backpack, we only know that he was in the parking lot that exploded.” After the blood bag was full, she removed the needle. “I took a small blood sample and I'll look it up in the database later, if we're lucky they'll be registered.” The doctor put a sticker on his arm before leaving the room carrying the bag. The man looked at the round blue sticker with a red S in the center.
Superman.
He snorted indignantly.
Tim was checking some files on the batcomputer when an email from Dr. Leslie Thompkins arrived.
“Bruce!” Tim spun around in his chair, finding Batman lying on a board under the batmobile, checking the car. Alfred was nearby, he brought sandwiches and tea for the afternoon snack. “Dr. Leslie sent an email.”
“I’m busy, is it very important?” He asked without leaving the vehicle.
“Let me see…” Tim clicked on the message. “The subject is about the ‘boy of the parking lot’.”
“Can you read it out loud, please?”
“Okay. ‘Bruce, as the official doctor of your vigilante family I feel I have the right to tell you this: learn to keep it in your pants’?” The young man frowned in confusion.
In the background, Bruce exclaimed in pain and the metallic sound of a tool falling to the floor reverberated, the butler showed a smirk.
“What?”
“Uh, ‘I know your reputation as a womanizer is just for show, but Brucie overdid it at some point. According to the database, your DNA is 99.9% compatible with the boy’s.’” Tim leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “‘Knowing your paranoia, I spent the last two days redoing the tests and they all came back the same. If you don’t trust the system, I’ll send you some of the remaining sample so you can do your own testing. Use protection next time.’”
Tim finished reading the message, undecided about what to make of that revelation. “Bruce has a son?” A heavy sigh sounded behind him; he hadn’t noticed that Bruce had crawled out from under the car and was now behind him, rereading the message, holding the back of his chair tightly.
Alfred joined the two in front of the screen, also seeing the message. “‘Boy of the parking lot,’ does that have anything to do with the parking lot that was blown up? Is he hurt?”
“Yes, he had a bleed, Leslie called me asking to donate blood for him.”
“That could be why the DNA is positive, your blood is mixed with his.” The teenager said.
“No. She took the sample before I donated the blood.”
Wayne rested his hands on the table. How could he have been so careless? His last girlfriends were quick flings and he never even got to the foreplay with them; his first and last serious fling was a decade ago, and it didn’t end pleasantly.
A voice rang in his head: “A clone”. Recently, Superman discovered that there was a clone of him made by Lex Luthor. If the so-called ‘Man of Steel’ managed to have his alien DNA, from an unstudied genome, cloned, then Batman, a human being, wouldn’t be so difficult.
But how?
When?
Why?
The engine of a motorcycle broke his train of thought. Dick and Jason entered the cave and disembarked.
“See, Little Wing? It wasn’t so bad, the kids loved Uncle Jay’s story time!” The older one ruffled the other’s hair.
“Will you stop that?! I gave you a ride, now leave me alone!” The taller one snorted. “Hey, sandwiches!” He walked over to the tray on the cart and attacked the snack.
“B, we were volunteering at Leslie’s clinic, and she asked me to give you this.” Dick opened the trunk of the bike and took out a small cooler, handing it to him.
Batman immediately began running tests. Tim and Alfred moved away from the computer, giving him space to work.
“Did I miss something, Baby Bird? Alfie?” Grayson looked between the two of them and a Bruce in ‘mega-important investigation’ mode, typing frantically.
“Apparently Master Bruce, in his romantic adventures, has fathered an heir.” Alfred’s words would have left a stunned silence, if it weren’t for Jason choking on his food.
“What the fu—” He coughed. “B made a brat?!”
Dick was processing the information. Bruce has a son, a son who is in Leslie’s clinic, otherwise how else would she have gotten the DNA sample?
“Could it have been one of the children from the reading circle?” He stared at his brother who drank the tea from his cup in one gulp.
“I don’t think so.” Jason cleared his throat. “I would have noticed a child with the bat’s face.”
“From the message the doctor sent, he was in the parking lot. I don’t remember saving any children, only adults.” Tim commented.
“And I was so worried that everything would collapse on top of us that I didn’t pay much attention.” The acrobat scratched the back of his neck.
“Maybe Batman saved his own son without realizing it. And the father of the year award goes to…”
“Jason, stop.” Dick glared at him, making Jason smirk.
“Stop what? Are you going to say you don’t find this situation funny? Bruce Wayne is collecting orphans, while his biological child is lost somewhere!”
A beeping sound from the computer indicated the end of the tests. Everyone ran to see the results.
The first one to appear was to confirm whether the DNA was cloned. Dick rolled his eyes at his mentor’s paranoia. The test was negative, the unknown boy was not a clone.
The second was the result of the genetic combination. According to the database, his genes were highly compatible with two people, and partially with a third, whose names were displayed on the screen.
Bruce Thomas Wayne.
Talia al Ghul.
Ra’s al Ghul.
And chaos erupts.
“YOU FUCKED TALIA?!?!” Dick screamed.
“Oh my fucking god!” Jason facepalmed.
“I expected that with Selina, but Talia, Bruce? TALIA?!” Tim simply freaked out.
“Miss Talia…” Alfred whispered, looking worriedly at the man sitting in front of the computer.
While everyone made a point of vocalizing their indignation, Bruce remained quiet. His hands went to his hair, holding it in a nervous grip, his knuckles white from the force that would leave wounds on his scalp; not that he cared, the pain was keeping him grounded at the moment. In his ears only the beating of his heart could be heard, his lips in a thin line, his eyes fixed on the screen, waiting.
The third and final test appeared on the screen, it was a record showing the identity of the child who owned the gene that dared to mix Bruce and Talia into one being. The boy's name is Hector Hawthorn. The date of birth, the names of the parents, and the other information were ignored as everyone looked at the photo on the document.
A smiling boy, with tanned skin kissed by the sun, the eyebrows, the shape of the face and the black hair were obviously Bruce's, but the long eyelashes, the lips and the eyes were his mother's. Green eyes that had already caused them so many headaches and a few nightmares; but these were so innocent, the sparkle in the eyes of a curious child wanting to know if the clouds are made of cotton, or a mischievous one who throws a snowball at the head of whoever is distracted.
He looks like a mini Bruce, or a male version of Talia, it was hard to tell, but he was a beautiful child, a perfect mix of the Princess of Assassins and the Dark Knight.
A dull thud made them jump.
Bruce had hit his forehead on the surface of the table. "She lied." An almost inaudible murmur came out of him along with a sharp exhale. "He's alive." Bruce stood up suddenly, his chair nearly falling over backwards, and strode out.
“Wow, wow! Where do you think you’re going?” Jason stopped him.
“Where else would I go?” Bruce dodged him.
“Are you crazy?!” This time Jason held him back, Tim and Dick joining him as Bruce struggled to get out of his sons’ grip without hurting them. “You think you can just walk up to a kid and say ‘I’m your father’—” Hood grunted with the effort of trying to stop Batman. “—And take him away?”
Doctor Leslie’s voice rang in his head, “...the poor thing wouldn't stop calling for his father” she said. That made him stop. His son has a father, a father who isn’t him.
“Everyone stay calm right now!”
Alfred’s voice made everyone stop, his tone slightly altered, making his state of mind obvious.
“No one is in any condition to go anywhere, and if anyone tries I will personally sedate them, is that understood?” everyone quickly nodded.
“Perfect.” The butler sighed, correcting his posture. “Now, let us all sit down and talk like the civilized beings you were raised to be. Master Bruce, it’s time to tell them everything.”
“So B had a relationship with Talia to the point where they were married for a while, she got pregnant, then said she lost the baby, and now they find out the baby was alive and is here in Gotham?” Stephanie recited everything she had heard in the last few minutes. Jason nodded.
“Wow, that would make a good book.”
For the last few hours, the family of detectives has been investigating Hector Hawthorn, or rather, Dick, Jason and Tim have been investigating. Bruce is in a corner throwing Batarangs at a training dummy, Alfred has forbidden him from going near any device connected to the internet or means of transportation until he cools down. In the meantime, Stephanie came for a visit and saw that something serious had happened, and Jason made sure to let her know everything.
“I researched everything about the parents.” Tim said out loud, typing on his notebook. “They’re from Fawcett City, the father’s name is George Hawthorn and he works for the cosmetics company ‘Spring Scent’ —”
“Oh, I love their perfumes!” Steph exclaimed in the background.
“ — In the financial sector. The mother is Maryanne Hawthorn, she works for the same company but in the design sector. Neither of them has a criminal record.” The young Robin threw himself into the padded back of the chair and stretched.
“It seems that a decade ago, Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorn went to several doctors due to fertility problems. The result was that George Hawthorn is sterile, so the couple resorted to adoption.” Dick spoke from his post at the batcomputer.
“Every adoption leaves paperwork.” Bruce said, throwing another Batarang at the doll’s chest.
Dick hummed. “The Brooksdale Orphanage is in Sunflower Fields, a small rural town near Fawcett City.” The printer released some papers that Nightwing collected and took to Batman. “The system is old so hacking it was child's play, I printed out a copy of the adoption papers, and the orphanage entry paperwork.”
Bruce received the documents, flipping through them quickly until he reached the orphanage’s registration pages. There was a photo of a baby in a crib, wearing a diaper, a pair of socks, mittens, and a blue pacifier. The report indicated that the baby was at least two days old, as well as the baby’s size, weight, and gender.
The report continued on the next page. There were two more photos: a plain handmade basket, with a dark green fabric decorated with gold arabesques — green and gold, the colors of the Al Ghul house — where the child had been when he was left at the door of the institution; the next photo was of a necklace that made Bruce’s breath catch, the same necklace he had given Talia after she found out she was pregnant.
“The boy was lucky, judging by the photos on the family’s profile, they have a good life.” Jason commented, looking at his cell phone. “Look, he won a prize in an art contest at school, and he got a Dalmatian from his parents!” He showed the cell phone to Brown.
“Can they adopt me too?” Spoiler asked jokingly.
“But if they’re from Fawcett, what are they doing here?” Jason went back to browsing the social network.
“There was a cosmetics event at Gotham Central Mall a few days ago, he might have come to represent the company.” Stephanie leaned back in her chair, looking over Jason’s shoulder.
“And he brought the boy along?”
“And why not? It’s school holidays, he brought his son along for the ride.”
“In Gotham?!”
“So Bruce, what do you plan to do?” Dick finally asked, making everyone look away at the oldest in the room. Bruce was still undecided about what to do, focusing his attention on the first photo of his son’s life, his tanned skin had the typical pink tones of newborns and his cheeks were so chubby.
“First of all, dinner is served.” Alfred entered the batcave. “Then I want everyone to rest, it was a busy day and there’s nothing better than a good night’s sleep to clear your mind. Especially for Master Tim and Master Bruce.”
“Yes, Alfred.” Everyone answered in unison, not daring to contradict.
Dinner was silent, mainly because of the Wayne unstable mood, who had barely touched his food. At the end of dinner, Jason decided to spend the night at the Mansion in case the old man tried to pay a night visit to Baby Bat (Dick suggested the nickname, no one objected), Dick went to the living room to contact Cass to tell her the news, Stephanie was the only one authorized to patrol with Babs’ help and is taking the opportunity to inform her as well, and Tim, miraculously, went to sleep.
Bruce lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, his mind racing, torturing him with incessant thoughts despite his mental fatigue. The door to his room creaked slightly.
“I figured you couldn’t sleep.” Alfred entered the room, closing the door behind him, carrying a glass.
“Alfred.” Bruce sat on the bed and turned on the bedside lamp. The butler handed him the glass containing warm milk, a tactic that helped Bruce relax and sleep when he was a child. “Sorry for my behavior earlier, I lost my temper.”
“I would find it strange if there wasn’t, Master Bruce.” Alfred sat on the edge of the bed while his protégé leaned his back against the headboard and sipped the warm liquid. He sighed, turning his gaze back to the ceiling again.
“I can’t understand why she did this. I would understand better if she had lied and raised our son in the League. But abandoning him? She could have handed him over to me!”
“Miss Talia’s reasons are a mystery.” The elder watched his protégé snort as he finished drinking the warm milk.
A memory flashed through his mind, from ten years ago, an exhausted Batman downing the rest of a bottle of whiskey, silently lamenting in his lap about the death of a child who never even lived; Alfred felt anguished for the son he had raised like his, he had spent so much time building internal barriers to avoid being shaken by emotions that he had become emotionally constipated, to the point where he could not even express his pain.
On that stormy night, with Dick away in Bludhaven, Jason in a rebellious phase locked in his room, and Bruce finally unconscious, Alfred swore to try to reverse this, and never let Bruce drink like that again.
“How are you feeling?”
The question made the drink get stuck in the billionaire’s throat, and he swallowed slowly so as not to choke. The dreaded question he could never answer. He could make a mental list of everything, but he would never be able to express it in words. His silence did not please Alfred.
“Master Bruce, a verbal answer please.” The man grunted, leaving the empty glass on the nightstand. “Preferably intelligible.”
Batman sighed exhaustedly, running his hands over his face, with a momentary urge to rip out his own eyes. His hair would also do. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, like a fish out of water trying to breathe, until he finally managed to get three words out.
“... Frustrated… Angry… Jealous.”
Alfred nodded in satisfaction.
“You are frustrated that you did not find out about your son sooner, which makes you doubt your own abilities. You are angry with Miss Talia for lying and also with yourself for believing it. And finally, you are jealous of the Hawthorns for having had the opportunity to see young Hector grow up.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Bruce thought, looking at his foster father, the man who knew him better than anyone.
“I would have named him Thomas.” He muttered. “I told myself it would be Thomas for a boy and Martha for a girl.”
“You are a great father, Master Bruce. Sure, you have some flaws and a challenging personality…” He frowned at the criticism. “But you are a good man, and I know you will do something wise.”
Bruce nodded, thinking about the old man’s intelligent words. Suddenly a light went on in his brain. How had he not thought of this before? All the emotional stress had clouded his mind.
“Thanks Alfred, I just had an idea.” Bruce grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand drawer, dialing quickly and putting the phone to his ear. “Hello? Is Dr. Thompkins available?”
Alfred smiled, picking up his empty glass and leaving the room.
“What I won’t do for my favorite eccentric billionaire.” Dr. Thompkins commented, Bruce beside her made a sound of recognition, muffled by the surgical mask. “His adoptive father arrived yesterday, shortly after Dick and Jason left, he searched for the boy in almost every hospital in the city.”
Bruce felt a strange sensation in his chest, but he pushed it aside. What mattered now was that he would see his son, for the first time.
As they entered the room, he felt a whirlwind form inside him when he saw the boy partially lying on the hospital bed, a wire connected to his nostrils to help him breathe, another wire connected to a saline bag on his arm, and there was a clip on his finger connected to the heart monitor. He was a big boy, “Of course, he’s 10 years old!” he mentally kicked himself.
“Good morning, someone looks much better today!” Leslie started to approach the bed with Bruce right behind. He was so focused on his son that he hadn’t noticed the man next to him, George Hawthorn, sitting in the chair next to the bed, with a bandage on his forehead and his left arm in a sling.
“It would be even better if he ate breakfast.” The man stroked the boy’s hair affectionately, making the Wayne feel jealous.
“And why don’t you want to eat, Hector? Didn’t you like the food?” She asked. Hector frowned, pushing the mobile table away from him.
“It doesn’t taste good, mommy’s cooking is better.” His son’s voice was the best melody he had ever heard.
The doctor laughed in amusement. “Oh, that’s right, a mother’s cooking is always the best in the world.” She glanced at Bruce. “Could I steal your daddy for a few moments? I promise I’ll give it back to you right away, Nurse Jack will stay with you.”
“Try to eat at least the jello, your mother will be here soon, okay?” The adoptive father kissed his son's forehead with an encouraging smile before following the doctor out of the room.
Finding himself alone with his son, Batman didn't know what to do. Hector started poking at the strawberry jelly, watching its hypnotic movement. Okay, it shouldn't be that hard, after four adopted children and two emotional ones he was able to start a conversation with a child.
“Hi, I'm Jack. And you're Hector, right?” The boy continued playing with the jelly, ignoring his presence.
Congratulations Bruce, 1 out of 10 for your effort.
The man scanned the room looking for something to start a conversation, until he saw a magazine with the cover of Diana in her heroic identity saving the day from something.
“Do you like superheroes? My favorite is Batman.”
His words caused a reaction, the boy snorted. “Only because he's from Gotham.”
“Actually it's because he wears black, it's my favorite color.” He said, finally attracting Hector's attention. “And you?”
“I prefer Robin, I like green and red.” He tasted the gelatin. “And Shazam and Aquaman, they’re better than Superman.” Okay, he already loves this kid.
“Do you really think so?” The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on the side of the bed.
“Yeah, Shazam’s outfit is cooler, and Aquaman talks to fish. Superman wears underwear over his pants.” The youngest wrinkled his nose.
Batman couldn’t help but laugh at the sincerity. In just a few words, he could already tell that Hector had a strong personality; he didn’t expect anything less from the combination of his and Talia’s stubbornness. Hector shifted in bed, grunting in pain when he tried to change position. ‘Nurse Jack’ immediately helped him settle into the bed.
Hector sighed in frustration.
“Hospitals can be really boring sometimes.” He tried to comfort him.
“I want to go home. I miss Pongo.” Hector rubbed his eye with his fist, letting out a yawn.
“Pongo is your friend?”
“He’s my best friend, I take him to the park and he chases squirrels.” Oh, Pongo is the dog’s name.
“I had a dog too, his name was Ace, a German Shepherd.”
“Like a police dog?” Hector stared at him, his green eyes shining with curiosity making Bruce smile behind his mask.
“Yeah, like a police dog.”
“Pongo is a Dalmatian.”
“So he’s a firefighter dog?”
The boy shrugged. “I don’t think so. Last Halloween, I tried to dress him up as a firefighter, but he grabbed the costume and ran away with it in his mouth. Daddy found it hidden under the bushes.”
The bedroom door opened, Doctor Leslie came back with the adoptive father and another person, a woman. Maryanne Hawthorn’s eyes were swollen and red, evidence that she had been crying.
“Oh, my little boy!” She immediately ran to Hector’s side, the boy’s expression brightening when he saw her and he stretched out his arms to her, both of them embracing in a tight hug.
“I came running when I heard what happened!” The adoptive mother distributed kisses all over the boy’s face and on top of his head, who smiled happily at the affection. Bruce walked away, going to the Doctor’s side, observing the happy family. Jason was right, Hector had a good family.
“Can I go home now?” The boy whimpered softly in his mother’s arms.
“Not yet, son, you’ll be here for a few more days until you’re fully recovered.” Mr. Hawthorn returned to his place beside the bed.
“But I’m fine! Aren’t I, Mr. Jack?”
He wanted to say yes, but Hector had suffered an internal bleed that could have killed him if he hadn’t donated the blood that saved him, his son’s health was not in question.
“It was the doctor’s orders, chum, sorry.” Hector pouted, frustrated that no one took his side.
“I’ll come by later to see you again, get some rest, young man.” The doctor signaled for the fake nurse to follow her.
“Thank you, doctor,” the mother said before the pair left.
Leslie closed the bedroom door, looking at the man with concern.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“No.”
"Yes."
“Nurse Jack” became a frequent visitor on the days when Hector would have to stay in the hospital, on the night shift, which was quieter. Always before and at the end of his patrol, Bruce would stop by the clinic to see his son using his second alter ego, unlike his apprentices who would spy on him through the bedroom window in the middle of the night, like bats.
Dick and Cassandra, who had arrived from Hong Kong, took a more… flashy approach.
Richard Grayson was a regular visitor to Gotham hospitals doing volunteer work, sometimes dragging one of his brothers along, so he decided to do magic shows at the clinic purely for the purpose of seeing Baby Bat in person.
“The Amazing Grayson” and his assistant “Cass the Badass” went from room to room making the patients laugh and giggle, but without a doubt the best smile was Hector’s.
“Baby brother. Cute.” Cass said to the rest of the family, who mostly just saw the boy sleeping.
“Hector was the closest we had to knowing what Bruce would look like smiling, like a normal person.” Dick joked.
The whole group was gathered in the cave, getting ready for the start of the patrol. Bruce was in the cave too, which wasn’t normal these past few days. He would leave well before, stop by the clinic, and change there.
“Oracle to the Batcave.” Oracle’s computerized face appeared on the computer monitor.
“Listening.” Bruce replied.
“Baby Bat has been released.” She informed.
Jason scoffed. Had Batman put Oracle to spy on the boy?
“Thank you.” Batman spoke in a quiet, almost inaudible tone. His posture changed, becoming more rigid than usual. Dick noticed the change and knew what it meant: he was shaken and would try to hide it with stoicism.
“Is that why you didn’t go see him? You didn’t want to say goodbye?” He confronted his mentor.
“I thought you were going to go to court and get your parental rights back.” Jason commented as he polished his helmet, Cass elbowed him in the ribs. “Ouch! Does he even know he’s adopted?”
“He’s aware he’s different from them, but maybe he doesn’t want to know.” Bruce replied, adjusting his utility belt.
During his visits to his son, he managed to find out a few things, such as his favorite food, the names of some of his friends, his favorite subject at school, etc. Hector is very communicative and charismatic.
“It was the right decision. If Bruce had filed for paternity, the poor boy and his family’s life would be hell! Paparazzi, custody lawsuits, the media wanting to know everything, not to mention the risk of kidnapping.” Babs explained.
“I hadn’t thought about it that way.” Tim sat back in thought.
“I must say I agree with Miss Barbara.” Alfred said, handing Robin his new cape, since the last one was patched beyond repair.
“Me too.” Batman said, looking at his family. “Hector is the blood heir to two mantles, two opposing worlds. A League of Assassins that would teach him to kill before he could even walk; and a group of masked vigilantes who risk their lives and earn a new scar every night.”
“On one side, he would have to fight his own father. On the other, his own mother.” The voice on the other side of the screen lamented.
“If you know you can give your child a better life, you do it, even if you have to give him up.” Stephanie said with her head down, remembering the baby she gave up for adoption. Cass and Tim hugged her by the shoulders.
“Baby Bat is happy!” Cass affirmed.
“In the end, Talia al Ghul did a decent thing.” Robin said, then frowned. “God, I never thought I would say that in my entire life!”
“Oh! Alert for a confrontation between Penguin and Black Mask’s men at the docks!” Babs informed.
“Time for action!” Everyone put on their masks and hoods, grabbing their bat paraphernalia.
“Let’s go, batfamily!” The heroes went out for another night of crime-fighting.
Seeing the whole group dressed up, Alfred was happy to know that Hector wouldn’t have to bear the weight of a cowl, that he wouldn’t have to treat his wounds and comfort him in his nightmares. And most importantly, that he wouldn’t be wearing a ridiculous costume while jumping from rooftop to rooftop.
“When we get home, I’m going to make macaroni and cheese,” Maryanne said as she drove the family car.
“With bacon?” Hector leaned forward, tightening his seatbelt.
“With lots of bacon!” She said with a smile.
“You know, Mr. Vandorme called me and told me to take a sick day until my arm gets better.” George looked over his shoulder at the boy in the backseat. “What do you think, buddy? Men’s Time?”
“Yeah!”
The mother narrowed her eyes. “I just hope this ‘Men’s Time’ doesn’t include video games all day, junk food, and late-night horror movies, because you’re forbidden!”
“Aw, man.”
“Just this once, Mom! Please!”
“No. You’re still on your meds, and you need rest and healthy food, understand?” She raised an eyebrow without taking her eyes off the road.
“Yes, ma’am.” both answered in unison, making the woman laugh.
Hector looked out the car window, admiring the thin red line of light on the horizon getting lower, the darkness highlighting the lights of the Gotham City skyscrapers, which were getting further and further away.
But a light in the sky caught his attention. A circle with a bat. The bat signal!
During his time in the hospital, his mind began to remember the accident. They had just left the mall, he had eaten a Batman-themed burger, and had won a Nightwing toy; dad was on the phone with the boss and was walking very slowly, so he ran ahead, making his little Nightwing jump over invisible buildings on the way to their car.
That was when a noise deafened him, and the ceiling fell.
Everything was dark, he couldn't move because there was something heavy on top of him, causing a lot of pain. Before he passed out, he felt the weight being released, and the color blue in the middle of all the black, in his delirious mind he thought that his doll had transformed into the real Nightwing.
“Mom, Dad, next Halloween I want to be Nightwing!”