Chapter Text

The long way to Kansas

It was a long way to Kansas. Especially with his son insisting on being a mopey teenager the entire car ride there.

Bruce Wayne had taken his new solid black (because he’s Batman) Bentley Continental GT Speed that he’d had built exactly to his preferences. It was lower profile than most of his sports cars and a comfier drive too. With 650 horsepower pulling the car forth on the comforting rhythm of a 6-litre twin-turbocharged W12 engine, even his dear son couldn’t complain.

‘I still would’ve taken the Chevy Impala,’ Damian complained.

‘Well, you’re not the one driving.’

‘We’d be there already if I had.’ The former assassin leaned back into his seat. ‘It must pain you that I’m the better driver, father.’

‘You’re not,’ Bruce said dryly. ‘You’re not even the best driver out of your brothers and sister.’ A slight smile passed his lips. ‘Also, you’re thirteen.’

‘Exactly why you ought to let me drive before your aging brain fails you. You’re putting us both at risk here. What would Gotham do without Batman and Robin?’

Bruce swore his son got his dramatics from his mother (despite Alfred insisting otherwise). ‘You’re lucky to even be allowed to sit in the passenger’s seat, given how short you are for your age.’

Damian shot his father a glare that he could only be proud of and slouched back into his seat to listen to something on his headphones.

‘What book are you listening to?’ Bruce asked in an attempt to keep the conversation going. He’d grown tired of his son silently moping.

‘That would be none of your business,’ Damian replied.
Yep, he was his son alright.

‘Did Jason recommend it?’ Bruce tried. No answer came, so he sighed. ‘I know it’s Anne of Green Gables, I saw the cover flash by earlier.’

Damian sighed in the same manner Bruce just had and paused his book. ‘And you know Todd recommended it to me, I presume. Why do you bother asking while it’s easier to deduce for yourself?’

‘So that we might talk. You know, like father and son.’

His son just clicked his tongue.

It was time for Bruce to play his trump card: ‘Alfred would like it.’

Damian sat up a little. ‘Very well, then.’

Bruce made sure not to let his smile show as his son put away his phone. He didn’t even have any questions ready because he frankly hadn’t thought he’d get this far. But today, of all days, he had to try to be a good, normal dad. ‘So, uh... who’s the main character of your book?’

‘Anne of Green Gables, obviously.’

Bruce could sense his son rolling his eyes. After a short pause, however, Damian continued. ‘She’s this naïve little girl, same age as Jonathan—’

‘And you.’

‘As Jon. Superboy is two years my junior, father, despite your old age you ought to remember that.’

‘Sorry, it’s easy to forget given he’s taller than you.’

Damian let out an exasperated sigh. ‘I shall to pretend you never said that, for Alfred’s sake.’

Bruce quickly got back on topic: ‘So, Anne of Green Gables.’

‘She’s... different. Different than me, I mean.’

Most children were, but Bruce was aware he knew that.

‘She’s always dreaming, getting lost in the wildest stories about heroism. She reminds me of him, of Jon.’

‘That’s nice.’

‘They’re both dramatic, immature fools that pretend the world is a wholesome place even when it’s not,’ Damian grunted.

‘Ah, the wonderful mind of a child,' Bruce said.

‘It’s blissful. Delusional, even.’

Bruce suppressed a smile. ‘Bliss is happiness.’

‘It’s dangerous.’

‘That’s why you have parents who protect you.’

Damian slumped into his seat before whispering: ‘I didn’t.’

Bruce’s heart felt awfully heavy in his chest all the sudden. ‘I know.’

‘Were you like that, as a child?’ Damian asked quietly. ‘Blissful.’

‘No.’ He must have been, right? When his parents were still alive. ‘Not that I can remember.’

‘Me neither.’

Silence took them for a while, probably not what Alfred had intended. So, back to the book it was.

‘Jason knew we were going to Kansas, didn’t he? He must have picked that book with Jon in mind,' Bruce stated.

Damian fiddled with his seatbelt. ‘Knowing Todd, I’m sure you’re right.’

Jason had always been smarter than he liked to let on. Bruce was mostly relieved Damian actually came along despite his many protests. ‘It’s good that you’re coming, Damian.’

His son clicked his tongue. ‘It’s not as if I had much of a choice.’

That made Bruce chuckle. ‘You know as well as I do that I can’t truly force you to do anything, even as your father. So, I’m glad you’re here.’

‘I’m only doing it for Jonathan,' his son muttered.

Bruce often felt proud of his youngest, but that was usually about his combat prowess and wits. Socially, his son was… well, about what you’d expect of a boy raised as a weapon. ‘You’re a good friend.’

‘Am I? I have no clue what to even say to him, or what to expect. Father, how do normal children react to death of a grandparent?’

‘I don’t know.’

It had been three days since Lois Lane-Kent called Bruce. Jonathan Kent, or Pa Kent, Jon’s grandfather and namesake and the father of Superman, had suffered a sudden cardiac arrest. Even with all his might, there had been nothing Clark could do. He’s heard his father’s heart fail from Metropolis and was there the next second. His father died in his arms.

Bruce knew the feeling, so he hadn’t hesitated to drive over Kansas to support his friend while leaving Gotham in the capable hands of Batwoman and Robin. Tim Drake, that was. He made another mental note to do something about the whole double-Robin thing, it was too confusing.

‘Well, you’re no help,’ Damian grumbled.

Bruce smiled. ‘He’s your friend, you’ll figure it out.’

‘TT.’

‘You should get some sleep, Damian,’ Bruce said. ‘It’s a long way to Kansas.’