Chapter Text
It's not that Bruce wants to leave Gotham.
Gotham is his home; it's his city. But it's not a matter of wanting to stay.
Bruce swore an oath to be stronger, to protect his little sister, and to rid their city of the evil that had taken their parents' lives while Felicity was still in infancy. To do that, Bruce has to become someone else. He has to become something else. And he cannot do that in Gotham City with the burden of the Wayne family legacy weighing on his shoulders.
He hasn't told anyone about his plans to leave Gotham City, not yet, but the opportunity presents itself when he graduates from Brentwood Academy at 18. He comes home after his last exam to find the formal dining room decorated (there are streamers and balloons of every colour and an utterly ridiculous looking banner covered in blue and green glitter that says Congratulations in his sister's messy printing) and he pauses in the doorway, blinks, and then blinks again.
When his brown eyes sweep over the room, Bruce smiles.
Alfred and Louisa and Felicity are there, smiles wide as they stand around the table, and Louisa's proudly holding a cake.
Bruce knows without asking that the cake is red velvet with buttercream icing; Felicity's favourite.
Because, like Bruce, Louisa and Alfred find it hard to deny Felicity anything.
His Uncle Nathan (he's the CEO of Kane Industries, which he inherited after Bruce's grandfather passed, and he and his family live just north of Gotham in Crest Hill, but they see him the most out of his mother's siblings) and Aunt Margaret (she owns an art gallery in Gotham City) are there also, with their daughter Bette, and, judging by the glitter and paint that covers Bette's arms and romper, she's partially to thank for the banner.
Nathan's smile is wide when he pats his nephew on the shoulder. "Congratulations, Bruce," He says, and Bruce's heart feels it could burst in his chest because it's so full. Nathan and Margaret are busy, Bruce knows, and he doesn't seem them or Bette as often as he'd like, but they're always there when he or Felicity need them; they're there for the big moments.
Felicity barrels across the room before he can blink, flinging herself at Bruce, and years of experience has Bruce catching his little sister at exactly the right moment, hoisting her up into his arms. "Bruce, look! We made you a cake," She beams, her arms going around his neck, but then she tilts her head to the side and the white bow in her hair goes lopsided, pausing because Alfred says lies are naughty. "Well, Louisa really made the cake, but helped with the icing, honest, and Bette and I made the banner all by ourselves."
His sister's buzzing with excitement when she holds out her hands to show him the glitter that has dried on her skin. "I can see that, buttercup," Bruce chuckles as he leans in to kiss her cheek, which he's amused to note has a smear of glitter on it.
Felicity scowls at the term of endearment (she's hated it since he coined the nickname after she demanded he read The Princess Bride for the millionth time) and huffs and then wiggles in his arms until he puts her down, and then their little family sits around the table, Louisa ensuring everyone is served before she takes her place on the other side of Alfred.
Their family is an odd combination, Bruce knows.
He knows the majority of Gotham's elite wouldn't approve of Louisa and Alfred joining them at the table for a family dinner.
Even their Uncle Phillip, their father's only sibling, made a fuss when a then-four Felicity insisted she wanted to sit beside Louisa.
Bruce still remembers the way his hands curled into fists when their uncle dismissed Alfred and Louisa as nothing more than the help.
"... Then we played pirates and Kate hit Beth with the sword lots, but she says it just slipped, but Aunt Gabi was so mad..." Bette babbles as she butchers the dinner roll without actually eating it, mouth curved into an excited smile as she talks about their recent trip to Brussels.
(Uncle Jacob and Aunt Gabi moved to Brussels three years ago, alongside their daughters Beth and Kate, and Uncle Nathan and his family went to visit them for March Break. Bruce and Felicity were invited, but Bruce was focused on his plans and his studies, and Felicity said she didn't want to go without Bruce).
Aunt Margaret's laugh is brassy as she shakes her head at her daughter, and everyone else soon joins in when Felicity goes off on a tangent, and Bruce feels his heart crack. He knows it'll be difficult to leave Gotham, to leave his family, but it's something he has to do, he just has to tell them, and Aunt Margaret provides him with the perfect opportunity when she asks what's next now that high school is behind him.
It's an innocent question, but Bruce knows what everyone expects of him. Ivy League, then taking his rightful place at Wayne Enterprises, even though Bruce is sure his Uncle Phillip would be pleased if he never had to give up his position as CEO. It's just as well, in his opinion, because Bruce has plans of his own.
Gotham needs a symbol; something for the good to rally behind, and for the criminals to fear.
Bruce fully intends to become that symbol once he has the necessary skills.
"I would like to travel, to see the world," Bruce answers. It's as honest of an answer as he can provide, and he knows it's the perfect cover. No one, not even his family, will question a young billionaire gallivanting around the world earning a playboy status, trying to spend as much of his inheritance money as quickly as possible.
He has done the research and he's prepared for the questions they ask. He talks about the different schools and programs he's looked into abroad, he talks about the countries he'd like to see, the different cultures and histories he would love to learn about. Bruce talks and talks and talks and it's so out of character for him (his sister has always been the chatterbox in the family, whereas he's more likely to quietly brood in the corner) that it convinces his family he's serious.
"Where do you think you'll travel first?" Margaret asks, reaching for her glass of wine.
Bruce opens his mouth to answer, but it's Felicity who manages to speak first, "You're leaving."
His brown eyes dart to his sister and his heart cracks, an open fault line when he sees the betrayal burning in her cornflower blue eyes that are identical to their mother's. "Felicity--" Bruce starts, but she's already pushing her chair away from the table, asking if she may be excused as she flees.
Bruce clenches his fists, fighting the urge to run after Felicity, but Louisa is there, placing a comforting hand on the back of his neck before he can bolt. Louisa keeps her hand on his neck. She's not holding, just letting her hand rest there, solid, heavy, a comforting reminder that she's there.
"Give her time, Tesoro," Louisa encourages, kissing the crown of his head. "You're her big brother, she won't stay angry with you forever."
Bruce isn't so sure about that, but he takes a deep breath and leans back into Louisa's touch regardless.
He listens, he gives his sister time, three hours of it, and then he goes in search of Felicity.
Bruce finds her sitting on the floor in her bedroom (her bedroom is an explosion of colour in the dark, empty mausoleum that was once their parents' house; the colour reminding him so much of their mother's gardens in the summer) with her brows furrowed in a mixture of frustration and confusion as she stares down at the dismantled toaster she must have stolen from the kitchen.
His mouth quirks into a fond, amused smile because Louisa will have a fit once she notices its absence, hands on her hips and clicking her tongue, even though Felicity fiddling with the electronics around the manor is a common occurrence. It has been years since the first time he caught his little sister with her pudgy little hands inside their VCR, but he still remembers the way his heart had dropped down, down, down into his stomach.
(
Felicity is four, lips pursed and brows furrowed in concentration, the first time she takes apart their VCR.
Her well-loved copy of The Princess Bride is stuck and, instead of asking Alfred or Louisa or Bruce for help, Felicity decides to fix it herself.
That's how Bruce finds her an hour later and he must make some kind of distressed noise when he stumbles upon her because Felicity looks up, smiles, and proudly holds up the newly freed tape. "Brucie, look!" Felicity cheers, happiness plain when she adds, "I fixed it."
Alfred finds old radio parts hidden in Felicity's closet a little over a week later.
Felicity dismantled the broken radio because she wanted to see how it worked.
)
Bruce shakes the memory from his mind, takes a deep breath, and then pushes himself off the door-frame and makes his way towards Felicity, sitting himself down on the floor beside her. "Louisa is downstairs having a conniption because you left before she could serve the cake you and Bette worked so hard on. Since when do you turn down cake?" He teases when it becomes evident his sister's not going to speak first.
Felicity's stubbornness rivals his own.
And, months shy of her eighth birthday, she's mastered the silent treatment routine.
Bruce watches her work in silence and then he reaches over to tug one of her pigtails (braids, pigtails, ponytails, Felicity's wild brown curls are always tied away from her face so they don't get in the way) and tickles her nose with the end, asking, "What're you thinking about, buttercup?"
"Just things. In here," Felicity mumbles, gesturing to her head. Felicity has no idea what to say to Bruce, doesn't know the words she needs, so instead, she opts for saying nothing as she starts to put the toaster back together.
She sits a little straighter because this she can do; this she can figure out.
Wires and math and science make sense to her while people and social cues often baffle her.
Felicity knows she's not supposed to, but sometimes she really misses her Uncle Noah. It has been over a year since he left her Aunt Donna (Uncle Nathan has tried to convince Aunt Donna to leave Las Vegas, to come home, but Aunt Donna refuses because it's her life, it's her choice) and he's become one of those things that no one talks about. No one will tell her where he's gone and why he left and she hates it.
Uncle Noah understood her better than anyone except Bruce, and she misses him.
But it made Aunt Donna really, really sad when Felicity said that, so she'll never ask again.
"Felicity..." Bruce trails off as he watches her work in silence, struggling to find the words because he knows what this is really about and he understands. His sister never knew their parents, not really, not in any way that counts, Felicity was far too young when they died to retain memories of their father's laugh or their mother's wide smile. So, aside from Louisa and Alfred, Bruce is really the only constant in her life. He's the center of her entire universe.
There are others, sure, they have a multitude of aunts and uncles and cousins from their mother's side, but Bruce is Felicity's constant.
Regardless, Felicity has to know that his leaving Gotham City won't change that; he'll always be there for her when she needs him, but he doesn't know how to put those thoughts and feelings into words. "You're my sister," Bruce blurts, startling Felicity. "You're my sister and you always will be and nothing, not even continents and oceans and god-knows how many miles, will ever change that. You're stuck with me, buttercup."
Felicity blinks, then mumbles, "'Kay."
"Not even an objection to 'buttercup'?" Bruce teases reaching out to feel her forehead, asking, "Are you sick?" His sister bats his hand away, smiles, and then he's wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his lap. "I saw that. Does that mean you forgive me?"
Felicity shrugs and keeps her eyes down, not even looking up at him.
He shakes his head in a mixture of exasperation and adoration but, if she wants to give him that typical Wayne stubbornness, he can do Wayne stubbornness too. "Please," Bruce pleads before he tightens his hold on her when she tries to squirm away, nuzzling his nose in her hair, inhaling the scent of her strawberry-scented shampoo that offers the same comfort their mother's lavender perfume once provided (he found a bottle of Martha's perfume after the funeral and he treasures it, leaves it in his dresser and only takes it out when the grief threatens to bring him to his knees). "Please, Fee," Bruce adds, resting his cheek on the crown of her head. "Pretty please."
His little sister slouches against him and curls into his chest, her head resting against the steady thump of his heart. "Why should I?" Felicity finally asks, chewing on her thumbnail, then spitting out the flakes of purple nail polish that come off as she does. Bruce smiles because he knows later his little sister will carefully pick a colour that will match tomorrow's outfit and ask him to paint her nails before Alfred shoos her off to bed, and Bruce will agree because he can't deny Felicity anything.
Bruce beams at Felicity, and his entire face softens. "Because I'm your brother."
Felicity huffs and scrunches up her nose making him laugh.
"I'll watch The Little Mermaid with you," Bruce offers and is barely able to resist the smirk tugging at his lips when Felicity looks at him, blue eyes narrowed. "And next Felicity Friday, instead of one, you can have two scoops of mint-chip when I pick you up from ballet."
'Felicity Friday' is a tradition he started when he first got his license: he picks his little sister up from ballet after school every Friday and they go get ice-cream and spend the rest of the day doing whatever his little sister wants. Sometimes they go to see a movie; sometimes he takes her to Amusement Mile.
Felicity purses her lips, head tilted to the side. "And?" She prompts.
Bruce huffs. "And I will paint your toes for you, the brightest shade of pink you own."
"Only if I'm allowed to paint your toes pink too," Felicity challenges, and then she tilts her chin in that impossibly brave way of hers.
"You drive a hard bargain, Miss Wayne. But you have a deal," Bruce vows, holding his pinky out to her, smiling when she links their fingers together seriously before she kisses his cheek and takes off towards the kitchen where he knows Louisa is waiting with the red velvet cake.
Later that night, while Sebastian the crab insists Prince Eric kiss the girl, Felicity beams from where she's stretched out on the sofa, her feet in Bruce's lap. As promised, Bruce is painting her nails the brightest pink she owns, his tongue poked out from the corner of his mouth as he paints Felicity's smallest toenail carefully, giving the task his usual level of focus.
It's because he looks so ridiculous that Felicity wiggles her toes in his face, her smile wide when Bruce scowls at her from beneath his lashes as he screws the lid back on the bottle of polish. She then swings her feet out of his lap and scoots down the couch until she's plastered against his side, her newly painted toes stretched out in front of her, her feet on top of Bruce's legs because the coffee table is too far away.
Felicity's grinning down at her toes, her eyes flickering from her newly painted nails to her brother's matching pink nails. She'd insisted that she should paint his first, not because she thinks he'd back out of a pinky promise, but because she's not an idiot and knows he'd have sent her to bed as soon as her nails were done, escaping his fate until she annoyed him with the sheer force of her personality until he caved.
Bruce catches her grin and asks her what it's for, and Felicity doesn't hesitate to say, "I'm glad you're my big brother."
Her brother stares at her in silence, eyes memorizing every feature as if he's trying to commit this moment to memory, and replies, "Me too, buttercup."
TBC.