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.’

Chapter Text

Damian stared into the seemingly never-ending rows of corn. He already hated Kansas, it was like a worse version of Hamilton County, where Jon had lived before moving to Metropolis. It was so empty that it almost reminded him of the deserts back home in Nanda Parbat.

At least the roads were so empty that they could drive at a comfortable speed. Then again, that only made him more pissed they hadn’t taken the Chevy Impala.

After an excruciating 10 hours, they finally reached Smallville. It would’ve been less time in the Chevy. The Batmobile or Batwing would’ve been even better, but they were supposed to be in civvies.
‘Go suit up,’ Bruce told him.

Damian rolled his eyes. ‘Very funny, father.’ The joke was on him, really, because of course Damian had sneaked his Robin costume into the back of the Bentley. Father had forbidden it because Batman or Robin appearing in Kansas would raise suspicion, but Damian couldn’t agree to that. If anything happened, he’d rather drive another 10 hours than let the Supers take all the glory.

‘Damian, we talked about this. Don’t you dare put on the Robin suit you hid in the back.’

‘Father, spying is unbecoming of you,’ Damian snapped back.

‘I’m not spying, it was merely a hunch.’ Bruce’s chuckling was clearly audible. ‘I mean it, though. I don’t want to have to explain to Clark why Robin appeared in Smallville, he has enough on his mind. If not for me, do it for him.’

‘Ugh, fine.’ He put the Robin suit back underneath the chair and just wore the suit, only bringing his mask and some batarangs. And then some more batarangs, just in case.

Bruce drove them straight to the church in the centre of Smallville, where a man in a black suit awaited them. There was something strange about seeing the most powerful being on the planet stand there like he was just a man.

Superman had a melancholy about him that was unbefitting of his status. But then Damian realised this wasn’t Superman, but rather Clark Kent mourning the loss of a parent. How very human of him.
Damian and his father got out of the Bentley to greet him. Despite the mostly-clear sky above them, the air was humid and tense.

‘Bruce, thank you for being here.’ Clark’s voice was much quieter than that of Superman.

Bruce immediately embraced his friend. ‘God, Clark.’

He didn’t need to say anything else, that became clear from the way the two men looked at each other. They both knew what it felt like to lose a father.

When Superman looked at him, Damian felt himself stiffen. ‘Ah, Damian,’ Clark said. ‘It’s good to see you came along with your dad.’

Damian held out his hand for him to shake. ‘My deepest condolences, Mr. Kent.’

‘Thank you, son.’

But he wasn’t here for him. ‘Where’s Jon?’

‘He’s around somewhere, probably outside. Seeing you would do him good, I reckon.’ As if Superman couldn’t locate his son with utmost precision.

Damian nodded politely and went on his way.

The church wasn’t very big (which he supposed befitted a town called Smallville) and a simplified version of a mix between Romanesque Revival and this style Damian didn’t recognise, probably something American. It was built with red bricks with relatively few wooden accents for its style. It wasn’t a particularly beautiful church, but that wasn’t really the point.

He found Jon Kent sitting against the church wall on the left side of the church, the opposite side of where the cemetery was located. The Kent family dog, Krypto, laid watchfully by his side. The son of Superman wore a black suit like his father. Damian could tell someone had attempted to neatly comb the boy’s unruly black hair back, but to little avail.

‘Hi, Dami…’

‘Hello, Jonathan.’

Nothing more needed to be said, or so Damian hoped. He decided join his friend against the church wall. Slightly too close for his comfort at 15 feet distance, but this was a special situation.

Krypto quietly came up to him and received some welcome ear scratches. Damian reached into his pocket to give him a little dog biscuit. He barely had room left in his suit thanks to all the batarangs, but doggy biscuits were simply too essential to pass up.

The church grounds were spread outwards from the town and were quiet in a peaceful way. Damian wasn’t sure how long the three of them sat there, but it he didn’t dislike it. Despite the tension in the air, there was something serene about the place.

‘D—did ya come here with your dad?’ Jon asked after a while. Usually, his accent only came out when he was angry or flustered, but this was different.

‘I did.’

‘Did ya take the batwing?’

‘Not even the Batmobile. We took a civvy car.’

‘The Chevy Impala?’

‘Bentley Continental.’

‘Oh.’

Damian leaned back against the bricks behind him. ‘I did tell father to take the Chevy, but the old fool never listens.’

‘Grandpa loved Chevies,’ Jon reminisced. ‘The blue ones, especially. Like dad’s Superman suit.'

'He had good taste, then.’

Jon swallowed and Krypto laid his head in the boy’s lap. ‘I—it’s weird, ya know. I was all busy with school and patrolling, and now suddenly I’ll never see grandpa again.’

Damian couldn’t relate. He’d never known his one grandfather, and the other… well, he’d be lucky to never see him again. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I don’t understand it,’ Jon said hoarsely. ‘How can someone just be gone like that?’

That he did know. He wished he couldn’t remember all the times he saw a man’s life fade from his eyes, but his dreams made sure he’d never forget.

The church bells rang; the funeral would start momentarily. Jon did not move, burying his face in Krypto’s soft fur. ‘I¬—I don’t wanna say goodbye. I—I’m gonna cry and I don’t wanna cry. I don’t wanna be weak.’

Damian did not know what to say to that. He did walk over to him and kneeled down, gently petting Krypto’s head. ‘Come, boy, it’s time to go inside.’ He slipped him another dog biscuit when he got off of Jon’s lap. Damian reached into his other pocket for a Napoleon candy he brought from home. He knew his friend loved them. ‘Want a candy too?’

‘I—I’m not hungry, thanks.’ Jon’s face looked like he might explode into tears any second. No one had taught Damian how to handle that.

What would Grayson do? His eldest brother was back in Blüdhaven. Damian wished he was here, because he always knew what to do. Then he remembered his brother holding his hand as Alfred stitched up his wounds, back when Grayson was Batman. His mother had never done that.

‘It’s time to go, Jon, come on.’ Damian reluctantly held out his hand.

After a deep breath, Jon took his hand so Damian could help him up and lead him into the church.

Chapter Text

Krypto walked into the church in front of them. He easily made his way through the people dressed in black until he reached the open casket of Pa Kent and laid down underneath it.

Beside the casket sat his widow Martha Kent, and their son Clark. Lois Lane-Kent stood nearby with Damian’s father and Diana Prince, aka Wonder Woman. On the other side stood Kara Danvers and Conner Kent, Supergirl and Superboy, respectively. Pa Kent wore his best farmer’s clothes. He looked good. Someone who wouldn’t be able to tell the difference might even mistake him for a sleeping old man, but Damian was not such a someone.

Damian felt Jon squeeze his hand and trying to pull him back, but he kept walking. He glanced back and saw how the boy averted the sight of his grandfather’s lifeless form at all cost. He wanted to chide him, tell him not to be a wuss, but Jon’s heartbeat was so loud that even he could hear it.

Damian stood still in the middle of the church and turned to his friend. ‘Sorry, let’s take this slow.’ He saw how Jon’s body was shaking slightly. ‘One step at the time, okay?’

Jon took a deep breath and nodded. They made it all the way to the front row of seats when he finally let go of Damian’s hand (which was a relief, the half-Kryptonian was too strong for anyone’s good).

‘Ah, Jonno.’ Clark came up to his son and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. ‘It’s time to start. Want to sit with me?’

Jon nodded and followed his father to their seats on the front row. Martha Kent sat down next Clark and Damian made his way over to his father, Diana and Lois.

‘Hello, Damian,’ Wonder Woman greeted him.

‘Ms. Prince, Mrs. Lane-Kent,’ Damian greeted the women.

‘Thank you for looking after Jon,’ Lois said to him. ‘It’s been hard on him, it’s nice to have someone his age to talk to.’

Damian wanted to tell her that he was older than Jon both in years and experience (especially the latter) but simply nodded.

‘Why don’t you sit with him, then I’ll sit next to Martha,’ Lois proposed.

Damian figured Martha Kent needed all the support she could get. ‘Will do, ma’am.’

So he sat down next to his friend at the end of the row, with Bruce sitting down behind him. His father laid a hand on his shoulder —much like Clark had done to Jon earlier. It felt comforting.

The ceremony was a lot like Damian expected. People died, he thought, that was the only real consequence of life. The whole thing was quite religious, which was a good learning opportunity at least. It was heartfelt, too, Damian guessed. The father of Superman had been a good man, always ready to help people. In a way, he hadn’t been much different from his son and grandson. Minus the Kryptonian genes, that was.

Lois gave a speech so good and heart-wrenching that Damian actually felt something (apart from the pain of Jon squeezing his hand). There was even a lump in his throat, which thankfully disappeared when Bruce patted his shoulder again.

And then he saw it: looking aside he could clearly see a teardrop travel down the face of Superman himself. It was the strangest thing. Strong people didn’t cry, no matter what. And yet the most powerful man on the planet… surely he must've had something in his eye.

Jon had tears streaming down his face the whole time during his mother’s speech. But that was okay, because Damian could be strong enough for the both of them. Besides, Jon was just a child. Damian had cried a few times in his life, too, when he was a child. But he was stronger now.

Damian was glad when the ceremony was over. Mostly because Jon’s hand had become all hot and sweaty in his own. It was quite disgusting. At least now no one ever would be allowed to say that Damian was a bad friend again. Yep, this definitely made up for the whole kidnapping thing.

After the ceremony, Jon and Damian went to Martha.

‘My deepest condolences for your loss, ma’am,’ Damian told her.

The woman took his hands. ‘Thank you for coming all this way, dear.’ She then turned her grandson. ‘Come, Jonno, it’s time to say goodbye to your grandpa.’

Jon swallowed. ‘I—I…’

Martha took his hand. ‘We’ll do it together, okay?’
Damian decided that was a good time for a bathroom break, so he left the two to say their goodbyes.

Damian decided to wander around a bit before getting back to Jon. He was curious about the church’s interior, and —being the son of Batman— he soon found stairs that led into a basement. It was nice and cool in there, which was a welcome change from the hot Kansas air.

Damian froze when he heard sobbing noises. He recognised the voice, but wouldn’t believe it. Very carefully, he peeked around the corner and then hoped Superman was too distracted to hear him. Because on the other side of the corner stood Clark Kent with his face buried in his wife’s shoulder.

Damian froze for a while, just watching them though he knew he should’ve left and pretended this never happened. It just seemed so strange to him. How had the strongest being on the planet been turned into a sobbing mess? Damian would never react this way if his father died… would he?

Lois gently stroked her husband’s hair. She didn’t chide him, or tell him to stop. She just held him in silent support.

‘We should get back soon,’ Superman said with a broken voice, unbecoming of his status. ‘But I can’t have Jon see me like this.’

Weak, echoed through Damian’s mind. It was his grandfather’s voice. You are weak, Damian al Ghul. The strong do not cry. You do not cry.

‘No,’ Damian said aloud, startling Lois and making her husband look up in shock. He knew they didn’t always like him, so he might as well ruin it further. ‘Jon thinks it’s weak to cry. Show him that it isn’t.’

Damian didn’t get scared, he simply did not. It was just that he had no Kryptonite on him and Superman was looking at him with red eyes.

The Lois smiled. ‘I think you’re right, Damian.’

An eery silence followed until Superman sighed. ‘Perhaps you are…’ Then he actually smiled and Damian realised his eyes had only been red from crying. ‘Silly, huh, how that works. I’ll go see him right away.’ He gave Lois a quick peck on her quick and used his super speed to pass Damian and disappear up the stairs before he even noticed. An intimidation tactic, surely.

‘Damian.’ Lois wasn’t smiling anymore and had her arms crossed. ‘I’ve told Bruce this one too many times. Spying is not okay.’

Damian clicked his tongue. ‘This is a public area.’

‘That doesn’t change that you were spying, mister.’

Damian ignored her and made his way up the stairs.

Chapter Text

‘I’m sorry Lois, truly. I can’t believe he’s done that.’ That was a lie. Of course Bruce knew about Damian’s tendency to snoop around. Like father, like son, or so Alfred liked to say.

‘It’s okay, Bruce, I he’s trying,’ Lois Lane-Kent said. ‘I trust he will be punished accordingly.’

‘Certainly, Lois.’

It was time to close the casket. Lois and Bruce helped Clark, Diana, Kara and Conner while Jon stood back with Martha while they held each other’s hands.

Bruce looked over and saw Damian in the corner looking an awful lot like a brooding little Robin. He seemed to be keeping an eye on Jon like some kind of dark angel… or a mini-Batman.

Clark said his final goodbye when the casket closed and Bruce laid a hand on his shoulder for support. They stood on opposite sides when it was lifted up by the group. Of course, Clark, Diana, Kara and Conner would each be able to lift the whole things up by themselves. Even Jon could, Bruce reckoned. But that wasn’t the point.

Bruce wondered if when he died, his sons and Cassandra would lift his casket. Would Jason be among them? Would he even show up? Would Damian have grown tall enough to help? Or would he still be a child… Bruce didn’t want to think about it because he already felt a big lump forming in his throat. At least Damian would have Jon to support him. All of his children had people like that, friends they could count on. Dick and Tim even had partners, as well of plenty of close friends.

He saw Clark glance at him. Had those thoughts raised his heart rate? He smiled back at his friend to reassure him. Clark nodded and flashing him a faint smile too. God, Bruce did not deserve such a friend, but here they were.

They walked outside, where the sun had been blocked out for the most part by dark grey clouds. The priest walked ahead and led them down an old sandy path.

The first graves they passed were so old Bruce supposed they’d been there since before the Civil War. They gradually began to look more like stones and less like ruins, until they reached the furthest headstones that were made out of polished granite. A little further down the road they reached the headstone that read “Pa Kent”, with written underneath his full name and dates of birth and death. And underneath that, it said: “Husband, father, grandfather”. It was quite simple, probably exactly what he would’ve wanted. If only people knew the kind of father he’d been. If only people knew it was him and Martha that raised Superman to be the paragon he was.

They very slowly lowered the casket into the ground with ropes while Martha, Jon, and the others watched. Bruce remembered to well when he watched his father and mother’s caskets being lowered into the ground in their private graveyard. He remembered Alfred laying a hand on his shoulder in silent support. He really ought to take him out to a nice dinner sometime. But the truth was that nothing could ever repay the things Alfred had done for him. Clark always said there were two universally good people in the multiverse: Alfred Pennyworth and Dick Grayson. God, if either of them would be evil they’d be so powerful the universe probably wouldn’t last long.

The priest versed some final rites and Martha carefully dropped a rose on her husband’s casket. The others followed one by one, and even Damian dropped a rose. Bruce had been so unsure about bringing his son. Not because he thought he wouldn’t behave, but because he thought it would be too hard on him. Before he met his son, the boy had been raised by the League of Assassins as a cold-blooded killer. But his son wasn’t cold-blooded at all, even if he often liked to pretend he was. And yet the boy was forced to carry the lives he’d taken with him for the rest of his life. It wasn’t fair, but Bruce couldn’t turn back time. He could only try to help his son grow into his own.

The final step was to slowly bury the rose-covered casket in the earth. Clark was the one to start, and everyone helped a little before they went back. Bruce left with Damian when the people of the church took over the process of closing the hole.

He stopped underneath a big white oak, but didn’t say anything. They watched the Kents in the distance staying at the grave while it was being closed. Clark had his arms around both Jon and Conner while Lois stood with Martha. Kara had followed Diana back to the church. Krypto sat with Martha almost like a guard dog.

When a few drops began to fall from the sky, the people of the church were quick to distribute black umbrellas to the Kents. Not a minute later rain poured like skyfall.

Bruce and Damian were relatively dry underneath their tree, and stood there for a while in complete silence as they watched the Kents. The silence was a father-son thing, according to Alfred. Something in their blood, and not always positive.

Bruce could almost hear Alfred yelling at him to talk to his son. So he did: ‘You stayed at the Kent farm here in Smallville once, if my memory hasn’t betrayed me.’

‘Your memory serves you well, for now,’ Damian said flatly. It took him a while to follow up, but Bruce was nothing if not patient. ‘It was after a Super Sons mission. We were exhausted and the Kent Farm was closest by. They welcomed us without hesitation... they were very kind.’

‘It caught me off guard the first time too,’ Bruce reminisced. How many years had it been? Dick was still Robin and Jon hadn’t even been born yet.

‘Jon’s grandfather sat with me on the porch that night while I fed some birds,’ Damian told him. ‘He asked if I liked Kansas. I said no.’

Bruce understood why. ‘It reminds you of home too much.’

‘Gotham is my home.’

‘Sure, it is now. But it wasn’t always. I remember Nanda Parbat. The heat, the silence... the peace.’

Damian sighed. ‘Pa Kent asked me about Nanda Parbat, he wanted to know what it was like. He knew... he knew about my past. Yet he was happy to meet me. He and Martha were happy to have me in their home. If only Superman would—’

‘Clark is a father,’ Bruce interrupted. ‘That doesn’t mean I agree with him, but I do understand feeling protective of your children.’

‘I hate the way he looks at me sometimes...’

Bruce squeezed his son’s shoulder. ‘I hate it too. But trust me, if Clark really had a problem with you, you wouldn’t be allowed to even see Jon. Just give him time.’

‘His parents were different... Pa Kent said he was glad that his grandson found a friend like me. He said he could tell I was a good kid...’

‘You are a good kid,’ Bruce said. ‘And I’m very proud of that, of you.’ He hoped his son wouldn’t have his head for calling him a kid. Then again, he was a kid.

Damian looked away but Bruce could just catch a single tear running down his son’s face.
‘Clark knows this too, deep down,’ he said.

Damian clicked his tongue. ‘He probably fears me because I could take him down if I wanted to.’

Bruce chuckled. ‘If we were to team up, Clark and Jon wouldn’t stand a chance.’

‘Precisely, father.’ Damian almost smiled now. ‘Although I hope you will leave the big blue to me.’

‘Don’t tell me you’re too sentimental to fight your friend.’

‘Jon would hardly pose a challenge for me, I know all his weaknesses. But for an old man like he might be a problem.’

‘If you’re really training him, I should be scared.’

Damian let out a small chuckle. ‘That would be wise of you.’

Bruce smiled back at him. Oh, if Alfred could see this. ‘Lois told me what happened with Clark earlier, in the basement. She thinks you should be grounded.’

Damian clicked his tongue again.

Bruce winked at him. ‘Fortunately for you, she’s not your parent. And I, for one, think you did good.’

‘I do not require your approval, father. But thank you.’

Bruce nodded and looked back to the Kents. Some dark part of him (like he wasn’t mostly dark parts) had long been jealous of Clark. Having two loving parents, being a good man, a good father... He didn’t feel that way any more. His family would be okay. He was proud of Dick’s leadership, Cassandra’s skills, Tim’s wits and Damian’s growth. Even was even proud of Jason’s foolhardiness. After all, he knew all too well where he had gotten it from.

‘Should we be headed back to Gotham soon?’ Damian asked.

‘Actually, we’ve been invited to the Kent Farm after this for food and drinks. I think it would be a good thing to go.’

Clark was too polite to outright say he needed his friend, but Bruce had known him long enough. Besides, he could go for a nice cold beer. How long had it been since he and Clark had had the time for something like that?

‘Very well, then,’ Damian replied. ‘That is, if you believe Gotham to be save with Drake and aunt Kate.’

‘I certainly do,’ Bruce said. ‘Besides, it’s Pride month. Wouldn’t be right for the Bat family not to do anything.’

‘... Was that supposed to be a joke, father?’

‘When we go back to patrolling, I’ll have Alfred stitch some rainbow patches on our uniforms.’

Damian rolled his eyes. ‘You sound like Grayson.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

The rain stopped and Kara, Conner and Jon left Pa Kent’s grave. Damian didn’t even need Bruce’s encouragement to go to his friend. Bruce was growing prouder by the minute.
He was so preoccupied with his son that he almost didn’t hear Diana coming.

‘That look on your face. I believe that is the one of a proud father,’ she said.

‘He’s already a better man than I ever was,’ Bruce said slowly. ‘Not even his years of assassin training could change the fact that he’s a good kid with a good heart. I first saw it whenever he interacted with animals, but now he’s warming up to people too.’

‘His friendship with Jon is a strange one, perhaps. It’s not the same as you and Clark have. Perhaps their bond is even stronger.’

‘I might hope so. Clark and I have had our fair share of... disagreements.’

Diana chuckled. ‘You boys sure are a handful sometimes.’

‘How’s Lizzy, by the way?’ Bruce asked.

‘She’s great...’ Diana was silent for a while, her dark blue eyes fixed on Lois and Clark. ‘The Queen believes it’s best for her to move to Themyscira. It is true that it is not easy for me to raise her here, but don’t want this world to be strange to her like it was for me.’

‘It should get better once she goes to school.’

‘She’s scared of boys... I fear I’ve surrounded her with women too much. But I can’t get a human babysitter, not with her power.’

‘Perhaps Tim or Dick could watch her sometimes?' Bruce proposed.

There was a glint in Diana’s eyes. ‘I was actually wondering if Damian would be open to babysitting her with Jon.’

Bruce choked. ‘I’m sorry, you want a half-Kryptonian farmboy and a trained assassin to babysit your daughter?’

‘Precisely. Though the boys are still quite young, so perhaps it will have to wait...’ Diana clapped her hands together. ‘I do believe it would be good for the three of them to get acquainted soon, without the babysitting part.’

Bruce breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I’m certain that can be arranged.’

They waited together a long time until Lois and Clark joined them under the tree. Clark gave both of them a hug. ‘I’m so happy you guys are here.’

‘We should be heading to the Farm soon,’ Lois told them. ‘Martha will be with us in the car. Who’s taking the boys?’

‘I’m sure Jon won’t mind a ride in my new Bentley,’ Bruce offered. ‘You want to come too, Diana?’

‘I'd like that, yes.’

Bruce reached in his pocket to get the keys out, when he made a terrible realisation.

‘Bruce?’ Clark must’ve felt his heart rate pick up. ‘What happened?’

‘I swear I had my keys in my pocket when we got outside...’ He never displaced things, especially something as important to the key to his car that had the Batsuit in it. He let out a big sigh and grumbled. ‘Damian...’

Chapter Text

Damian did not need to say anything when he reached Jon after leaving the tree. They simply walked in silence through the graveyard. The sky had darkened with dark grey clouds, but Damian swore there was a little sunshine everywhere that Jon went. The humidity in the air had cleared a bit after the rainfall from earlier, but the tension was still there, centred around half-Kryptonian friend. As it grew, so did the feeling that Damian had to say something.

‘Kent, wait—’ When Damian grabbed the boy’s arm, he caused a static shock. He quickly pulled his hand back and met Jon’s enlarged eyes.

‘Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. Are ya okay?’

‘It’s just the static, Jon, it wasn’t your fault.’ Damian sighed. ‘And will you stop walking around like a headless chicken.’

Jon slowly nodded. They’d reached the place they’d sat earlier, next to the church. It least if it did start raining, they’d be dry under the cover of the trees.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Damian asked.

Jon firmly shook his head. ‘If I talk about it, I’m gonna cry again.’

‘All the more reason to do so, then.’ Damian flashed him a wry smile.

Jon ignored him in favour of the ground, boring his eyes into the dirt.

‘I—I mean, you don’t have to,’ Damian muttered. Why was this so hard? ‘But if you want to, I’m here.’

‘I just don’t understand...’ Jon’s voice was very quiet. ‘Why do people die?’

Damian swallowed. ‘It’s the only natural outcome of life.’

‘Well, I hate it!’ Jon almost startled Damian with the way he raised his voice. ‘It’s stupid! Someone is just living and then suddenly they’re gone forever. A—and then we put them into the ground all cold and alone... I don’t wanna be put in the ground, please don’t ever let them put me in the ground, Dami!’

The thought of them burying his friend nearly got to Damian. ‘I—I won’t,’ he said hoarsely.

‘I don’t wanna die, Dami...’

‘I—I don’t want you to die either.’

‘And I don’t want my grandma to die, or mom, or dad.’ Jon’s eyes were full of tears. ‘Everyone should just stay alive forever!’

‘That’s not the point of life, Jon. It’s precious because it ends.’

‘I don’t care!’ Jon’s ears were red as fire and tears started streaming down his face. ‘I don’t care, I don’t care! I want my grandpa back!’

‘You can’t, he’s gone forever.’

Jon screamed in frustration and for a moment Damian thought the thunder had already started. But the air around them was quiet as... well, a graveyard. Jon buried his face in his hands and sobbed.

Damian almost instinctively hugged his friend. Something he immediately regretted when Jon took that as an incentive to bury his face in his expensive cashmere suit jacket and cry his eyes out.

‘There, there,’ Damian hummed while he slowly rubbed his friend’s back. He’d hoped this would get the boy off him, but instead Jon held him even tighter. God, did there have to be so much snot? His suit was going to be ruined.

Finally, Jon ran out of tears and let him go. Damian hadn’t realised how hard he’d been squeezed until he could finally take a good deep breath of air again.

‘Oh, gosh, Dami, your suit! Please, let me—’

‘Leave it, Jon.’ Damian meant to sound angry, but it came out wrong because it sounded awfully caring. ‘It’s just a suit, it has little importance to me compared to you.’

‘Oh, right...’ Jon’s cheeks flushed red. ‘I—I’m sorry about that.’

‘Don’t be ashamed, Kent. It is an adequate way to deal with one’s emotions.’

‘O—okay.’ Jon took a deep breath. ‘I do feel a little better now.’

‘That’s good.’ And Damian meant it. Maybe he wasn’t so bad at this after all. He thought about what else he could do, when something popped into his head that Jason once said about blowing off some steam and the power of speed. ‘Say, we’re supposed to go to your grandma’s farm. It shouldn’t be a long drive. And I happen to have the keys to my father’s Bentley in my pocket here.’

Jon’s eyes lit up. ‘We can take the Bentley?’

Damian knew that when Jon said “can” he meant “are allowed to”. Jon hated lying, but it was his own fault for choosing his words to carelessly. ‘We certainly can, come on.’

Damian swiftly led them to the Bentley. He’d seen that his father was still in the graveyard talking to Wonder Woman, but he would find out any minute that his keys had disappeared from his pocket.

‘Wow, that’s cool.’ Jon ran his hand over the Bentley’s door. ‘Can I ride shotgun?’

Damian rolled his eyes. ‘Do you see any parents around? Sit wherever you like.’

Jon hesitated for only a moment before getting into the front seat. Damian got in next to him and booted up the car without starting the engine yet. Good, there was no software to prevent him from driving.

‘Why do I feel like we’re doing something bad?’ Jon said.

‘Because you’re a goody-two-shoes without a bad hair on his body.’ Damian started the car. ‘That’s why you have me.’ He made sure to drive away as slowly and quietly as possible, because his father would instantly recognise the sound of that W12 engine.

Damian wasted no time and drove straight out of the village onto a road going right between some fields of sunflowers.

‘Woah, this car is amazing.’ Jon’s voice was still a bit hoarse, but at least he sounded normal again. Damian figured some distraction was good for the boy, before returning to the serious business at the Kent Farm.

‘Pretty cool, huh.’ Now that they were out of the village and couldn’t disturb anyone, he revved the engine a few times.

‘Gosh, Dami, it’s amazing! We should do this more often!’

Damian wasn’t sure Jon’s father would like that. Or his mother, really, but she didn’t have laser eyes.

‘Watch the speed limit, though,’ the son of Superman said. ‘We have no right to break it, we’re the same as everyone.’

Damian rolled his eyes. ‘Yes, dear.’

He’d taken the long way to the Kent farm to give Jon some time. And maybe because he liked driving this Bentley a little more than expected. It was a nice bonus and he didn’t even mind having to stick to the to the speed limit. It was perfectly relaxing. The tall sunflower fields gradually turned into fields of wheat. Some sunlight came through and turned the rolling hills ahead golden as it reflected on the grain.

They were both silent for a while, Jon staring out the window while Damian focused on the road. It was nice.

‘I like it here,’ Jon said after a while. ‘I liked it in Hamilton, too.’

The sky had grown dark again, with barely any sunlight being able to find its way through the thickening layer of dark grey clouds.

‘I—I don’t mind Metropolis, really.’ Jon fidgeted with his seatbelt. ‘It’s just so loud, you know. It’s hard to filter out sometimes.’

‘I know what you mean, yes.’ Damian knew very well how lucky he was to live in a mansion away from Gotham’s turmoil. ‘I’ll take you to Nanda Parbat sometime, you’ll like it there.’

‘I’d love that, I always wondered what it’s like.’

‘It’s a deal, then.’ Having a Kryptonian with him the next time he visited couldn’t hurt, especially if the League wasn’t prepared for it.

Damian decided they’d been gone long enough and turned into the direction of the Kent Farm.

‘Hey, I hear something,’ Jon suddenly said. ‘Wait, I think someone’s in danger!’

‘Where?’ Damian asked.

Jon ripped the buttons of his shirt open to reveal a big yellow “S” underneath. ‘East. I can fly us.’

Damian didn’t hesitate and sent the car straight into a corn field to hide it. Once the Bentley stood still, he jumped into the back to get his Robin costume while muttering: ‘I knew I shouldn’t have listened to father.’

It only took a moment until he sat in full Robin gear on Superboy’s back as he flew them over the fields towards the sound he’d heard. Damian wasn’t prepared for what they found, though.

They’d reached a farmhouse not unlike that of the Kents, but it had been completely surrounded by cows. For some reason, the cattle wildly smashed their heads into the wooden walls, some of which were starting to break.

‘There's people on the second floor,’ Jon told Damian as he put him down. ‘They called the sheriff, who’s on their way.’

‘And what’s a sheriff supposed to do about this?’ Damian replied.

Jon flashed him a smile. ‘I suppose then, that this is a job for the one-and-only Super Sons!’

Damian loved to hear it. ‘You save the civvies and I’ll deal with the cattle.’

‘Yessir!’ Superboy was off in a flash, which left Damian facing about a hundred-or-so crazed bovids.

Robin was used to cows, he even had his own Bat-cow back in Gotham. Calm and gentle animals, but big and strong enough to cause significantly more deaths than sharks when roused. There was nothing he could do to stop a whole herd of rampaging cows, he was too small. He needed help.

With all the grace of a cat, Damian jumped before the bovines could trample him and landed on one of their backs. He looked closely at the cow behind and almost felt the fear on her face. They were afraid, all of them. Terrified.

Using his newfound height, Damian scanned the area until he spotted what he sought. He ran over the herd without them even noticing him until he got close enough to some lone trees and used his grappling gun.

Form the corner of his eye, he saw Superboy carry two children out the window. Damian threw in an extra salto for show (Grayson would be proud) and landed right in front of a glorious Mustang. A horse, that was, not a car, but it would do.

‘Hello there, horse,’ Damian said with a bow. ‘I require your assistance.’

Jon's POV:

Superboy landed in front of the sheriff’s car, and lowered the children onto the ground. They were identical-looking twin boys not older than six, both their faces flushed with excitement.
‘We were flying, we were flying!’ One of them exclaimed.

The other jumped up and down. ‘Superboy you are the best!’

‘Who was the other hero?’ The first asked. ‘I saw him do TEN saltos!’

‘That was The Boy Wonder, my faithful sidekick,’ Jon replied. ‘Now, I should go get your parents.’ The boys seemed blissfully unaware of the danger they’d been in.

Jon looked at the sheriff. ‘Don’t worry, ma'am, the Super Sons’ have everything under control! Please look after these children while I get their parents.’

‘Superboy?’ The sheriff asked. ‘What’s going on? Where are your parents?’ She gave up when the caped boy vanished in a blur of red and blue.

It only took Jon a few seconds to get back to the house. He’d been working on his speed with Damian and it was paying off.

He was very careful with the boys’ mother, as she was clearly pregnant. She and her husband never doubted Jon’s ability to carry them because of the “S” on his chest. Jon hated to make the man wait, but he couldn’t risk carrying both of them at the same time.

When Jon flew out the window with the woman safely in his arms, he saw Robin riding on a horse. Somehow, he wasn’t even surprised.

He left the woman with the sheriff and went back to get her husband. Once he was safe with his family too. Before he could fly back to Damian, however, the sheriff stopped him.

‘Superboy, what would you have us do?’ she asked.

‘Uh…’ Usually, this was Damian’s domain. ‘Stay here, take care of the family. Robin and I will take care of the situation.’

The sheriff nodded. ‘Take care, boys.’

‘Always, ma’am.’ With that, Superboy left them to go assist his partner.

Chapter Text

Turns out, Superboy’s partner did not need much assistance. When Jon got back, he could easily assess the situation from the sky. As far as he could understand what was going on: Robin, without any head protection (don’t try that at home), rode on the back of a beautiful black horse like in one of the Western movies Jon liked to watch with his dad.

‘Hey! Get your Super-stupid-head out the clouds and help me out!’ The Son of Batman yelled.

Jon dove down to fly beside his partner and winked at him. ‘You look to be doing just fine, Cowboy Wonder.’

Robin rolled his eyes —at least, Jon was sure he did under that mask (he couldn’t wait until his X-ray vision kicked in).

‘Something scared these cows out of their minds,’ Robin explained. ‘We need to get them into an open field so they don’t hurt themselves.’

‘Or people,’ Jon emphasised.

Robin sighed. ‘Just help me shepherd them.’

‘Yessir! I’ll get them to—'

‘No,’ Robin said firmly. ‘You follow my lead.’

Jon wanted to protest, he grew up on a farm after all. But Damian wasn’t someone to refuse. It was much easier to comply, so Jon did. He flew to the side of the herd of stampeding cows and helps shepherd them to wherever his partner decided.

Robin led them into a big open field, but the cows did calm down. In fact, Jon felt it was only getting worse. There was a ringing in his ear, was that the wind? Anyway, he hoped Robin knew what he was doing. A human, even one as amazing as him, could be fatally hurt by the sheer strength of a bovine. It was lucky cows never started a revolution against humanity, Jon figured.

The ringing in his ears got worse. Could the cows hear it too, he wondered. He flew over to Robin. ‘Hey, can you hear this weird ringing noise?’

‘Superboy, get back into position,’ Robin ordered.

‘But this noise…’

Robin’s face soured. ‘You're getting distracted. All I need is for you to do as I say.’

‘NO!’ Jon surprised himself how loud his voice was. He made sure to calm himself before continuing: ‘I want you to listen to me. Don’t forget I grew up on a farm.’

‘Very well.’ Robin had a slight smile on his face, much to Jon’s surprise.

Right, Jon had a plan. ‘I think the sound is why the cows are acting up, it’s even making me feel weird.’

‘You think you can find out where it’s coming from?’

‘Yes!’

‘Then what are you waiting for?’

Superboy barely heard him. Something was coming.

Robin’s horse noticed at the same time as Robin himself. The Son of Batman leaned forward and put his hands on his horse’s neck to calm it. Approaching them was a gigantic bull.
Rampant cows were dangerous enough, but a rampant bull? One ton of pure muscle fuelled by a primal rage.
But Superboy was about 80 pounds and fuelled by the Yellow Sun.

The bull charged towards Robin and before the hero or his horse could react, Jon jumped in front of the bull and grabbed it by the horns. There was almost a sense of exasperation in the bull’s eyes as this mere boy was able to keep it in place. After an initial moment of surprise, it started thrashing around.

‘Be careful!’ Robin called.

Superboy was touched. ‘Aw, don’t worry. You know I’m practically invulnerable.’

‘I mean with the bull. We cannot let harm befall any animals.’

‘Gee, thanks for the concern,’ Jon said as one of the bull’s horns scraped his side. ‘Any tips on getting this thing to calm down, cowboy?’

‘If you’re right about that sound… how about getting it out of range?’

‘Alright, partner,’ Jon said in his best old west accent (he loved watching old westerns with his dad). He made sure he had a tight grip on the bull and slowly lifted it in the sky. The animal squirmed and kicked, but was completely at Superboy’s mercy.

Jon flew as quickly as he felt responsible for the animal. He passed the sheriff and the family below and wondered how silly he looked from their perspective. Still, he could see the twins gaze at him with wonder.

Not much farther away, the bull indeed started to calm down. Once it had completely stopped thrashing, Jon carefully put it down on a field.

‘Sorry ‘bout that,’ he said to it. ‘Anyway, I’ve got to go back. Stay here and be good, okay?’
The bull ignored him in favour of the nice fresh grass at their feet. Superboy flew back to Robin, making sure to listen carefully. And indeed, the strange noise got louder the closer he got.

When Jon reached Robin, he called: ‘I’m going to follow the sound!’

‘I’ll stay here to make sure no one gets hurt,’ Robin called back. ‘There was a small pause. ‘Good luck, Superboy. And be careful.’

So he did care. Jon knew that, of course, but hearing Damian say it made him smile regardless. He then refocused himself and followed the sound.

The source of the sound wasn’t far, it turned out. It was well-hidden in some bushes, but no match for Superboy’s senses. It was a weird-looking cylindrical device, about half Jon’s size, humming with the same strange noise. Being close to it made Jon feel a little giddy.

Damian would want him to take it, so it could be studied. He’d want to keep it in tact. But the noise began to grow so overwhelming that Jon had already punched straight through it before he could really think. ‘Aw, fiddlesticks,’ he muttered as the device almost immediately died down. At least the noise was gone and he instantly felt better. He hoped the same could be said of the cows.

Jon picked up the device’s remains and flew back to Damian. His prayers were answered, because he found Robin surrounded by peaceful bovines nuzzling him.

‘Ah, Superboy, well done.’ His focus seemed to be on the broken device. ‘I’ll need to take that back to the Batcave. Come, let’s get back to the Bentley.

Miraculously, they made it back without Superman descending from the sky to scold them. Damian made sure the device’s remains were stored securely in the car and they both changed back into civvies.

‘Come on, we should really get back,’ Jon complained as Damian still struggled with his suit. ‘If you take too long, I’ll drive.’

‘Over my dead body, Kent.’

‘Well, I’m gonna learn to drive too,’ Jon said as he got back into the passenger’s seat. ‘And then we can rock-paper-scissors for who gets to be the driver.’

‘I think that’ll be me.’

Jon almost didn’t notice someone was already sitting in the driver’s seat. He shot up and hit his head against the car’s ceiling. ‘M—Mr Wayne!’

He heard Damian mutter some unholy words from the back.

‘Why don’t you take a backseat, Damian,’ Bruce Wayne told his son. ‘Jon, you can stay where you are.’

Jon put on his seat belt and watched as Damian got into the seat behind his father with all the energy of a cat that’d just been caught throwing potted plants off the balcony.

Mr Wayne drove them out of the corn field. Both he and his son were completely silent, which made the air in the car very uncomfortable. Jon decided he had to say something to break the tension, or it would drive him mad. ‘So, uh, we saved a family from frenzied cows.’

‘Frenzied cows, huh,’ Mr Wayne said with a smile on his face. ‘Tell me about it.’

And Jon did. He told him the whole story, leaving no details out and maybe even overstating just how cool he and Robin had looked saving the day.

By the time he was finished, they’d made it to the farm. When Jon got out of the car, he was immediately greeted by his father. ‘Dad, sorry we’re late. Some people needed help, so we saved them. It was awesome.’ Flashed him a big smile, which soon faded when he saw Superman’s face. For a moment, Jon was afraid he was angry. His eyes looked very intense and his face was quite stern.

Then, the Man of Steel kneeled down and lovingly ruffled his hair. ‘Jon, I can’t find the words to say how proud I am of you.’ His voice was a little hoarse for some reason. ‘I love you.’

‘Love you too, dad,’ Jon said.

His father gave his son a big hug and then turned to Bruce Wayne. ‘Why don’t you and Damian stay the night? We’ve got plenty of space.’

‘Can Dami and me sleep in the barn?’ Please?’ Jon pleaded. He’d always wanted to do that.

‘It’s Damian and I,’ Damian corrected.

Clark looked at Bruce. ‘It’s fine by me.’

Mr Wayne shared a glance with Damian. ‘We would love to stay, Clark. But first, I need to have a little talk with my son.’

Bruce’s POV

Bruce had no idea how to do this. His son was staring batarangs at him, but he must’ve known he was in the wrong. ‘You stole my car,’ he said flatly.

‘I borrowed it,’ Damian dared to say.

‘Without permission.’ Bruce sighed. ‘Damian, you are a child. You are not legally allowed to drive in this country and you stole my car.’ It took everything not to yell at him.

Damian shrugged. ‘I wanted to go for a drive with Jon, and we both know I’m a better driver than 99% of this country. And as your heir, your car will belong to me anyway.’

‘The car belongs to me now, and you are not to take it without permission. And I know about your ability, but that does not excuse you from breaking the law.’

‘Do not talk to me about law, father, when you dress up like a bat every night to dangle criminals from rooftops.’

Oh, now Bruce was really angry. And that’s when it hit him: he was angry because his teen son was misbehaving. ‘Look, Damian, ‘I’m happy to see you behave like a normal teenager for once. But that means it’s also my turn to be a normal father. Therefore, starting tomorrow, you will be grounded for a week.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘And that includes patrol.’

Anger practically radiated from Damian’s green eyes. ‘Mother will not agree with this.’

‘Talia isn’t here. It’s very simple, your actions have consequences. And that is why, as your father, I have decided you are grounded. Have I made myself clear?’

‘… Yes, father.’ The rage in Damian’s eyes hadn’t quite subsided, but that was something Bruce could live with.

Bruce kneeled down and put a hand on his son’s shoulder. ‘I am proud of you for being a good friend to Jon today. However, you could have done so without stealing a car.’

‘Bold statement.’

‘True statement,’ Bruce corrected. ‘Now, are you okay staying with the Kents tonight?’

Damian clicked his tongue. ‘I suppose it wouldn’t be the worst thing.’

Bruce smiled to himself. ‘I suppose not.’

Chapter Text

After the Super Sons were put to bed in the barn, Bruce quietly followed Clark back to the house. When they reached the porch, Clark vanished and reappeared in the blink of an eye, carrying a crate of alcohol-free beer. Most people wouldn’t even have noticed, but Bruce wasn’t most people.

Clark put the beer down on the porch and sat down into his father’s chair. He let out a sigh and stared into orange sky.

It was a sight to behold. The clouds were painted various shades of deep blue, bright orange and soft pink, and the sun was large and bright. It was quite a change from Gotham, where the orange sky was always muted by pollution.

He hoped it would be a quiet night in Gotham tonight, at least for the city’s standards. He didn’t doubt Tim and Kate’s ability to deal with anything being thrown their way, but he still had an uneasy feeling being out here.

‘Bruce,’ Clark said to snap him out of his train of thoughts. ‘Are you going to stand there all night, or will you sit with me and have a beer?’

Bruce flashed him a slight smile and sat down on the other chair. Clark flipped the caps oft two bottles of alcohol-free beer and handed one to his friend. They clunked the glasses together and had a sip. It was cold and refreshing, just perfect. Alcohol didn’t affect Clark, but it did Bruce. He’d stopped drinking it a while ago for his health.

‘I didn’t want to push, but I’m glad you and Damian decided to stay,’ Clark told him.

‘Even after Damian took my car?’

Clark didn’t look at him. ‘He made Jon smile today. That’s more than I can say I did.’

‘It wasn’t your job today to make Jon smile, Clark. It was your job to be a grieving son. Children learn by example, remember?’

‘So do you often steal cars for joyrides?’

Bruce nearly choked on his drink. ‘He got that from his mother.’

That made Clark chuckle. ‘I didn’t think they taught joyriding at the League of Assassins.’

‘He’s spent a lot of time under Dick’s supervision as well. He wasn’t such an angel as a teenager.’

‘I suppose few of us were,’ Clark said. ‘Damian’s lucky to be with you instead of Talia. And I was lucky to have parents like mine.’

‘Can’t have been easy on them. With your powers, I mean.’

‘I’m sure it wasn’t, but they certainly didn’t let that show. No matter what happened, I could always come to them. Pa always had the best advice. He understood things like no one else does. The number of times I sat on this porch with him…’ Clark's’s eyes filled with tears. ‘And now I’ll never—’ His voice broke just like that.

Bruce chugged some of his beer just to get the lump out of his throat. ‘He was too damn young. So were my parents.’

‘So was Jason...’

‘That’s life. It doesn’t discriminate between who deserves to life and who doesn’t, it just takes. No purpose or reason to it.’

Clark put down his empty bottle. ‘I’m glad you’re still here.’

‘One day I won’t be.’ Bruce hated to think about it, but he did have his will ready. For his children.

‘Bruce...’

‘You better cry at my funeral.’

Clark chuckled while the tears in his eyes finally ran down his face. ‘I hate crying.’

‘It’s human.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I know... Pa cried too, sometimes.’ Clark wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

It was almost dark now, but the two of them stayed there for a while. They were mostly silent, but it was nice not to be alone.

Bruce woke up from the buzzing of his wristwatch. It was 1:47 AM and Nightwing was calling. He must’ve fallen asleep on the porch and someone had draped a blanket over him. He was quite comfortable, his back didn’t even hurt. Bruce took out his phone to answer the video call. ‘Hey, Dick, everything alright?’

‘All good, B.’ Dick Grayson was in his Nightwing uniform, but without the mask. His blue eyes really stood out compared to his tan complexion and dark hair. ‘Sorry to disturb you. Still not in bed, I see? God, you’re such a night owl. Or should I say night bat?’

‘Nice to see you too, Dick. Now, what’s the issue?’

Dick flashed him a wry smile. ‘Nothing pressing, don’t worry. Blüdhaven’s been relatively peaceful, so I went through some Justice League reports.’

‘Something catch your eye?’

Dick nodded. ‘It’s not much of a pattern, per se, but these last two days there have been an unusual number of incidents involving a large amount of animals in the US. The system didn’t flag it and…’

‘But you did.’

‘Just a hunch, though.’

‘I’ll look into it tomorrow,’ Bruce said. ‘You’re a son of mine, so you’re probably right. Good work.’

‘Thanks, B. Say, is Damian asleep yet?’

Bruce nodded. ‘He’s having a sleepover with Clark’s spawn.’

‘With Jon, huh?’ A grin formed on Dick’s face. ‘Heh, that takes me back. I bet you they’re awake right now.’

‘I’m just glad Damian’s acting like a kid for once.’

‘Yeah, me too. Tell him I said hi, will you? Jon as well.’

‘Will do, Dick. Good night.’

‘Good night.’

Damian's POV

‘What’s with your face all the sudden?’ Damian asked Jon. They only had the light of Damian’s squishy axolotl nightlight.

‘That was Nightwing calling your dad,’ Jon said excitedly.

The boy really ought to have been asleep. Damian had been, they both had. But he'd woke up from a nightmare like he often did and was listening to his audiobook to calm down. How Jon was awake as well, he had no clue.

‘Anything of interest?’ Damian asked him.

‘He says there’s been an unusual number of attacks involving animals in the last two days. Not enough for the computer to flag, though.’

Damian sat up. ‘If Grayson sees a pattern there probably is one. We’ll have to look into it tomorrow, so you better get some sleep. I don’t want you to drag me down.’

‘Nightwing really is amazing, huh.’

Damian rolled his eyes. ‘I suppose as a role model he’s a lot better than our fathers, or any of my siblings bar maybe Cain.’

‘He rescued me once, he was really cool and nice.’ There was a big smile on Jon’s face. ‘He even gave me a lollipop.’

‘An adequate response to a child like you, as expected from my brother.’ Damian put his phone away. ‘Say, what else is my father doing?’

'No sleep, huh?' Jon said with a goofy grin on his face.

Damian clicked his tongue. 'Just this once. Now shut up and listen, I want to know what he's up to.'

Chapter Text

Bruce sat his bed in the guest room with his tablet resting on his knees as it tried to connect to Oracle.

‘Hi, Bruce.’ Barbara Gordon appeared on the screen. She was in the Clock Tower and looked a bit tired. Her red hair was tied into a messy bun and had a digital pen stuck in it. She smiled when she saw Bruce. ‘Wow, you actually got some sleep.’

‘Hello, Babs.’ He was surprised about it too. ‘That’s what the country air does to people, I suppose. I woke up anyway, so I decided to check in. Status report?’

‘Very well, boss.’ Barbara straightened up and removed the pen from her hair. ‘There’s been an organised robbery on Gotham’s S.T.A.R. lab that Batwoman managed to foil. Two robbers unfortunately did manage to get away. Kate did say their skill level didn’t seem to match that of the other goons.’

‘The robbery could have been a front. Did they take anything?’

‘That’s being checked right now. What we do know is that...’ While Barbara spoke, Bruce noticed he wasn’t alone any more. Damian (Steph and Duke too) loved to remind him he was getting on in age, but he was still as sharp as a tack. That, and the young Super’s breathing was quite loud.

‘Hello, boys.’ He said aloud. ‘Shouldn’t you be in bed?’ Barbara stopped talking and grinned. Bruce tried to hide his own happiness about his son acting like an actual child again.

Jonathan was the first to appear. He fiddled with his hands as he came floating through the window. His ears were bright red. ‘S—sorry, Mr Batman. I didn’t mean to disturb you.’

‘Save the “I’s”, Jon, I know you’re not alone.’

He heard Damian click his tongue as he appeared in the windowpane. ‘I told you, your breathing’s too loud,’ he hissed at his partner in crime.

‘What do you want me to do, stop breathing?’ Jon complained.

Bruce found the two amusing as ever.

‘We could certainly try, yes.’ Damian jumped and landed in the room with all the grace of a cat. ‘Hello, father, Oracle. Exchanging reports without me, I see?’

‘Hi Damian, hi Jon,’ Barbara said through the screen that Bruce held up.

‘Hi, miss Gordon,’ Jon said politely.

‘Codenames!’ Damian hissed.

‘That’s really not necessary on this channel, Damian,’ Barbara explained.

Damian shot her a glare, but didn’t say anything.

‘Right, back to the report,’ Bruce said. He should’ve known Dick was going to be right about them. ‘You boys stay here, because I know you’ll listen in anyway.’

Jon’s ears turned red again and Damian found a sudden interest in the floor.

Barbara chuckled at first but then quickly turned serious. ‘There’s been an incident in Crime Alley.’

‘Crime Alley?’ Jon whispered to Damian. ‘Who calls a street that? That’s asking for trouble.’

‘It’s actually called Park Row, it’s in the East End,’ Damian whispered back. ‘We don’t patrol there because of—’

‘Because of Red Hood,’ Bruce finished. ‘Babs, is he okay?’

‘Red Hood is my other brother,’ he heard Damian whisper to Jon. ‘Jason Todd, he’s the family disappoint—’

‘Silence!’ Bruce commanded.

‘His heartbeat is really fast.’ Jon must’ve thought that whispering directly into Damian’s ear would prevent Bruce from overhearing. Bruce shot him a glare and the poor boy froze in fear.

‘Jason will be fine,’ Barbara finally said. ‘He’s recovering.’

Bruce tried his best to keep his heart rate under control. The last thing he wanted was to wake up Clark too. ‘Is he in the cave?’

Barbara nodded. ‘Alfred is with him now. He said it wasn’t too bad because Bernard already patched up the worst of it.’

‘Bernard?’ Now Bruce was really confused. ‘As in, Tim’s boyfriend?’

‘From what I know, he found Jason and managed to drag him to his apartment to patch him up.’

Bruce was speechless, so his son took over: ‘Not bad, for a civvy.’

Jon was still a few steps behind. ‘Wait, Tim has a boyfriend?’

‘Yes, Jon, keep up. I haven’t met the guy personally yet, but I feel bad for him.’

‘Boys, I swear.’ Was this what it was like to be a tired dad? Bruce certainly felt like it. ‘Be quiet or be gone, last warning.’ He turned back to Barbara on his screen. ‘Why was Bernard in Crime Alley?’

‘He lives there.’

Bernard Dowd lived in Crime Alley? Bruce knew him from Tim’s school days. Mr and Mrs Dowd were very well off and lived in Bristol, not too far from the Manor. ‘I thought he lived with his parents. Does Tim know?’

‘Of course he does, Bruce.’ Barbara was starting to sound tired. ‘Anyway, Bernard contacted Tim who then “contacted” Robin.’

‘Sorry, what? Does Bernard not know that Tim is Robin?’

‘I don’t think so, no.’

‘Ah, okay.’ Now that Bruce thought about it, he wasn’t even sure for how long they’ve been dating. He barely spoke with Tim about it and he’d only seen Bernard a handful of times in the mansion. And all he did was greet him and be on his way. The last time he’d really spoken to the boy was... it must’ve been when they were still in school.’

‘Tim got to Crime Alley and gained control of the situation, after which he took Jason back to the Batcave.’

‘I’m proud of him.’

‘Yeah, he did good. Bernard too.’

Bruce didn’t really feel satisfied. ‘I still don’t understand the situation with Bernard. His parents are very well off, why is he living in Crime Alley?’

‘You’ll have to ask him that yourself.’

Bruce agreed. ‘Perhaps it’s long overdue for Wayne family dinner.’

Barbara grinned. ‘Oh, what’s the occasion?’

‘I’m sure you’ll figure something out. The important thing is that we will be in civvies. No Bat stuff. I think Duke’s got a civilian girlfriend as well. We have more than enough space, so everyone can bring a plus one.’

Barbara wrote some things down. ‘Sounds good.’

Jon raised his hand, but didn’t wait for his turn to say: ‘Can I be Dami’s plus one?’

‘TT, do you even know what—’

‘Sure, Jonathan,’ Bruce told the young Super.

‘Yay!’

‘Noted,’ Barbara said before Damian could complain. She then yawned. ‘I think it’s time for all of us to get some sleep. Good night.’

‘Good night, Babs.’ Bruce put away his tablet and turned to the boys. ‘Well, you heard Oracle, back to bed you go.’

‘Yessir,’ Jon said. ‘Are you coming, Dami?’

‘One moment, you go ahead.’

The boy nodded. ‘I’ll be waiting for you, so don’t take too long.’ And with that, he flew out the window back to the barn.

‘Damian, what’s wrong?’ Bruce knew his son well enough that he wouldn’t stay behind just for small talk.

Again his son seemed to take great interest in the floor. ‘I—I thought that even though you must know this, sometimes things need to be said aloud. Preferably before the event of, however unlikely, someone’s untimely death.’

‘And what is that?’

Damian swallowed. ‘I love you, father.’

Bruce immediately embraced his son. ‘I love you too, Damian. And no matter what I always will.’

Damian took a step back and nodded solemnly. ‘Noted, father, thank you.’

Bruce ruffled through his hair. ‘I won’t be dying on you anytime soon. The Bat isn’t easily killed.’ He knew Damian was still plagued by nightmares and witnessing the funeral of another father surely wouldn’t help. ‘You’ll be okay. Now off to bed with you, don’t make me call Alfred.’

‘Yes father. Good night.’

‘Good night.’

Damian's POV

Damian made it back to their sleeping bags in the barn, where his nightlight was perfectly illuminating Jon’s sleeping face.

‘Heh, so much for staying awake.’ Damian carefully brushed a hair out of his friend’s face. ‘Good night, Jonathan.’

The boy did not react, which meant he really was asleep. Jon was too polite to pretend anyway.

‘Perhaps I owe you some words as well in case I never get the chance,’ Damian whispered. ‘But I swear, if you die on me, I will kill you. Either way, I’m glad you’re joining me for that dinner party. Things tend to be more fun with you around. I don’t often say it, or ever, because I think you already know. It’s hard to put into words, but if anything were to happen to me, I trust you to take care of my animals. I’ve put it into my will and all… so there’s that.’

He got into his sleeping bag and fell asleep before he had the chance to pick up his phone to listen to his book again.

Chapter Text

After some of the best, nightmare-free and refreshing sleep of his life, Damian was rudely awoken by Jon booping his nose.

‘Morning, Dami.’

Damian groaned. ‘I hate you,’

‘Happy to hear it~’ Jon now floated above him.

‘What are you even doing?’

‘Deciding whether or not to breathe ice in your face based on how likely you are to murder me.'

Damian raised a brow. ‘Very.’

‘But… you’d have to catch me first.’

Without warning, Damian jumped out of his sleeping bag, grabbed Jon, swung on top of him and pinned him to the ground. ‘You were saying?’

Jon let out a small squeak. ‘N—nothing.’

‘Good boy.’ Damian patted his head and got off him. He hoped Jon would never realise how easily he could get out being restrained by him if he just used his super strength in the right way.

Jon put on his shoes upside down in the air while Damian grouched and sulked until they stepped outside. The morning air was crisp and cool, with a soft breeze welcoming them to the day. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Next to him, Jon did the same. ‘Ah, I’ve missed this.’

‘I suppose it suffices.’

‘Are you going to tell me how Nanda Parbat is better?’

‘I’m good, thank you.’ Damian rand his hand through some wheat while Jon got his feet back on the ground and walked alongside him.

‘How are you doing?’ Damian asked him.

Jon looked at the sky. ‘Alright, I guess.’

‘Things like that take time, I suppose.’

The Super Sons walked into the kitchen, where they were greeted by the smell of fresh pancakes. Clark was cooking while Lois and Martha talked at the table.

‘Good morning, dears,’ Martha greeted them.

‘Ah, Damian,’ Clark said. ‘Would you wake your father for me? I could use some help in the kitchen.’

Damian clicked his tongue. ‘My father is not to come near a kitchen, Pennyworth’s orders. Allow me to help you instead.’

‘Uh, sure.’

Not much later they all sat at the table to eat, joined by Bruce and Conner.

‘These pancakes are divine,’ Conner said with his mouth full.

‘They’re just too good, I wanna marry them,’ Jon said.

‘Marry Damian then, he made them,’ Conner teased.

Jon chuckled. ‘No thanks, he’s always grumpy in the morning.’ He took another bite. ‘And he complains too much,’ he said with his mouth full.

Damian rolled his eyes. ‘I will have you know that I would make a perfectly adequate husband, thank you very much.’ Even though the thought of getting married made him want to vomit. ‘Better than you, at least. You don’t even know how to kiss.’

Jon’s ears turned red. ‘You don’t know either!’

‘TT, of course I know how to kiss. I read books.’ Damian ignored the snickering of Conner next to him.

‘Boys,’ Clark chided. ‘That’s not important. If you want to make a great husband, you have to show that you care.’

Lois and Bruce simultaneously rolled their eyes, while Martha smiled wistfully.

Damian shrugged. ‘Easy, I’d kill for my partner.’

Jon looked Damian dead in the eye. ‘Well, would it kill you to ask how my day was when we meet after school?'

‘And yet that has not once stopped you from telling me all about it.’

‘Well, somebody has to invest in our friendship.’

‘So, you think they’ll pick Wayne-Kent or Kent-Wayne?’ Conner said casually to Lois, which made her chuckle a little.

Damian shot him a glare for speaking out of turn like that, while Jon just looked confused. Bruce and Clark both looked rather pale all the sudden. When Damian met his father’s eyes, he couldn’t quite read them. He hoped his childish spat with Jon hadn’t disappointed him.

Damian quickly turned to Martha. ‘Apologies, Mrs Kent, that was unbecoming of me.’

‘Oh, don’t you worry about that, dear,’ Martha said warmly. ‘Just be sure to make up before you leave.’

Jon extended his hand to Damian. His ears were still a little red. ‘Promise we’ll never marry each other?’

Damian shook his hand with a smile. ‘Not if you were the last man on Earth.’

‘Yippee!’ Jon hugged him, which Damian supposed he could allow.

‘You guys are weird,’ Conner said.

‘Says the answer to “what if Superman and Lex Luthor had a child”,’ Damian refuted.

Conner raised his brow. ‘Touché.’

After breakfast, Bruce and Damian said their goodbyes and thanked Martha for her hospitality. Bruce assured her that if any financial trouble was to arise, she shouldn’t hesitate to contact him through Clark.

Damian made sure to give Krypto one more treat before he left, and some ear scratches as well for good measure. Jon complained that he spent more time saying goodbye to the dog than to him, which Damian had found a most excellent and true observation.

‘Are you going to miss Kansas?’ Bruce asked while they drove through the corn fields in the Bentley.

Damian stared at the rolling hills ahead. The sky was a perfect blue above the golden wheat. ‘Hm… inconclusive.’

‘I’m glad you liked it.’

Damian thought about the look his father had given him after his spat with Jon. ‘I apologise for my childish behaviour during breakfast, father. I saw the way you looked at me and—’

‘Damian, I’m not mad.’ Bruce interrupted him. Then he sighed. ‘I was looking at you with fondness. It’s nice, albeit a little strange, to see your age.’

Damian didn’t want to hear any more of it. ‘I shall strife to behave more maturely from now on.’

His father let out a groan. ‘That’s not what I— ugh, never mind. I’m proud of you either way, alright?’

The man was nothing if not confusing. As Robin, he was often told to act like an adult, but as Damian Wayne he was to behave like a child? It felt like he could never win.

Once they got out of Kansas, Damian got out his phone to listen to his book again. The main character of his book, Anne Shirley, was leaving home to go to college. How time could fly.

‘Since you compared the main character to Jon, which character would you be?’ Bruce asked.

‘I’m nothing like the characters in this book.’

‘But if you had to pick one that you’re closest to.’

Damian thought about it. Anne’s best friend Diana seemed the most obvious. But Diana was a great friend, kind and warm. Nothing like Damian. But then there was this other, perhaps more unlikely friend of Anne’s. ‘I think maybe Gilbert Blythe. He’s clever and ambitious, but mostly keeps his distance. Despite their differences, Anne and Gilbert end up as friends. And Gilbert is there to save Anne when she falters, just as I hope to be for Jon.’

‘Isn’t Gilbert the one that is in love with Anne?’ Bruce asked.

‘TT, clearly you haven’t read the books.

Bruce shrugged. ‘I read it in school, but clearly this is another case of —what did you call it— my memory fading with old age?’

‘Precisely.’

Bruce laughed. Come to think of it, Damian rarely heard his father laugh. Maybe he ought to accompany him on more mundane activities.

‘Father?’ he started.

‘Hm?’

‘Are you free for an ordinary American family activity next weekend?’

Bruce didn't laugh at him, but nodded sincerely. ‘Have something in mind?’

‘Not really.’

‘Baseball it is, then.’

Damian smiled. ‘Gladly, father.’