Chapter 40
Batman had been stuck in the Watchtower immediately after finishing his meetings with his company. Zatanna had information to share about a missing artifact, reviewing the care and handling should any of them find it without a JL Dark member present. It had droned on longer than Batman wanted to sit there for, especially when he had his own investigation growing colder by the minute.
Superman had caught him right before, claiming to have something he wanted to share with him after the meeting was done.
While all of this was necessary and aligned with the procedures he had placed when they first formed the Justice League, Batman couldn’t dread it more. He had research to conduct and a patrol to take on. Each minute sat here listening to Flash and Zatanna argue was a minute wasted.
That was until the text.
His family were all given a number to contact him directly whilst he was occupied in the Watchtower. Their texts or calls would go straight to him so that he could respond immediately should there be an emergency at home.
So when the phone chimed an alert, Batman had already been on his feet.
Your son needs you.
“Meeting adjourned. Zatanna, send everything to us.” With that final order, Batman fled the Watchtower.
He hurried through the Zeta tube, rushing to change into civilian clothes before he sped up to the manor. Selena didn’t have to tell him any more than she had for him to know where to go. It took under five minutes before Bruce entered Peter’s room. A second to take in the scene and even less before he sat on the bed with a hand on Peter.
“What happened?” Bruce asks quietly as Peter sleeps. Bucky had laid himself out over him and Selena, his tail now twitching by Bruce’s hip. Selena was still dressed from work, her blouse stained by tears.
“I’m not sure…” Selena sighed, running gentle fingers through Peter’s hair. Their son slept soundly between them with stained cheeks from crying. “Damian was here before, comforting him. Alfred was stress baking. I didn’t want to leave him alone to find out.”
He didn’t want to leave either. Bruce stroked a finger along Peter’s cheek, wiping away the tears. He thought through Peter’s schedule for the day, how normal it should have been. None of the children had alerted him of a kidnapping or attack. Gotham had been quiet today so no Rogue could have interrupted his plans. Most of them were in Arkham as is, they wouldn't have broken out without his knowing about it.
Peter had a playdate after school and despite Bruce’s distrust for Sabrina Stacey, he knew she couldn’t have done anything.
With Peter still asleep, Bruce took stock of what he could see and decipher here. Peter had cried himself out, obviously hurt or scared. No visible injuries though with his healing factor that wouldn’t have stayed long enough for him to see. (Not unless it was bad .) Peter was curled up in Selena’s lap with Bucky laying on his legs, grounding him.
Bruce couldn’t see enough clues to pinpoint anything yet. Dick would have been with Peter at Sabrina’s so he may know something.
Forcefully taking a step back, Bruce shared a final look with Selena. “Let me know when he wakes up.”
Dick would be out on patrol by now but he would have the answers that Bruce needed.
Making his way to the cave made the rope around his heart tug the farther he left Peter behind. His son needed him but he had to figure out what happened first. Peter was asleep, he won’t know that his dad visited him unless Selena tells him. He kept his phone on vibrate, more attuned to its weight in his pocket with every step he took.
“Oracle, report.” He barked immediately, storming for the batcomputer.
“Nightwing and Robin are waiting for the police by the grocery store on Yellow St. Spoiler is taking a break with Red Robin by the bridge. Hood’s gone dark.” Oracle updated clearly, avoiding the report he wants.
“What happened with Spider, Oracle.”
“... You’ll find a report on it in the Batshit server.”
The Batshit server was a place in the Batcomputer where all reports regarding injuries or events of any member of his family were filed in. Steph had christened the name Batshit after some comment he could hardly remember. Bruce opened up the server, finding a file named “PP” an abbreviation he didn’t know yet. He read through it after calling Nightwing back to the cave, reading the statements and observations his children provided along with the profile Oracle had included. The conclusion was clear, evident in the angry words that filled the final page of the file. Bruce had to take a moment, staring at the words that made sense and were completely unexpected.
His son…
His son...
Bruce felt his heart stop. He felt it sink below the earth as the conclusion burned itself into his mind. The words were clear, it was well written as he expected but the words were there. The statement, not theory, written out as truth.
He couldn’t save another son.
Closing his eyes, Bruce forced himself to breathe.
Peter was asleep upstairs. He was safe for now. He had seen victims enough to know that the battle had only begun. He’ll have Dinah visit and speak with him when Peter is ready for it. You can’t force a victim to heal on your schedule so until Peter was ready for it he and the family would have to support him the best they could. It would be better to get an upgrade on the tracker for Peter, either implant one in his arm as he had done for Damian or see if Tim could add an alert for when Peter removes it. Selena would disapprove of implanting a tracker so Tim would have to be assigned this as soon as he returns.
Should he homeschool Peter? They could hire tutors. They couldn’t leave Gotham but if Peter felt safe with Clark, he could attend school in Metropolis.
“Bruce.” Nightwing stepped away from his bike, Robin following him like a shadow.
“Report. What happened with Peter.” He didn’t have to ask, the report opened on the screen showed them just how much he’s already learned. Now, though, he watched his sons. The statements on paper were detached until the end, they kept their cool writing it out for most of it.
For now he focused on his sons. He watched Robin, Damian silently stand by Dick’s elbow. He picked up on the anger that bled into Dick’s eyes, the soft blue irises churning into a storm. His eldest stood tall and taut, eyes staring forward as he recited the report with only a few extra comments.
“There are no police reports.” Bruce waited for his son to finish before throwing the bait. The anger at what happened to his son simmered beneath his skin, the desire to avenge Peter burning low in the deepest parts of his mind. He couldn’t kill, especially another child.
Skip Wescott is only seventeen, a kid. A single mother who spent more time in the ER as a nurse than at home with a son nearing graduation from high school. As far as Oracle’s background check showed, Wescott has a relatively regular childhood on the outskirts of Crime Alley. His dad had left them a long time ago but it had seemed mutual. The man now lives in Maine with a new wife and daughter.
“No.” Dick agreed, still staring past him to the batcomputer.
“Why not?”
“He’s dead.”
Bruce watched him silently at the statement. Dick finally met his eyes, the storm brewing worse in the blues. Dick’s eyes held the same promise and vindication as when he had killed the Joker, even though Batman had managed to bring him back in time. This time, he was too late.
A part of him knew that he should have been furious, maybe he was a little. His son had fallen victim to the one thing Bruce had overlooked. Had thought he would be safe with all the plans and eyes on him. The one thing he overlooked had now been forced onto his baby, who cried himself to sleep upstairs.
“You killed him.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.” Dick didn’t shift, didn’t move to indicate otherwise. Damian stood still beside him, his expression never changing from the seriousness he generally carried. Damian had known about it then, maybe seen it too.
Bruce stood carefully, watching both sons as his other children returned from patrol. They watched from the shadows, steering clear of the conversation while listening in from the short distance they kept. A brief glance told him enough that Tim and Steph were not involved, their eyes frozen on the screen. Hood was nowhere to be seen, Oracle having warned him already about his absence. Orphan was on a trip to Hong Kong for now, she wouldn't hear about this until she came back unless someone reaches out to her soon. Bruce made a mental note to call her back, he wants all his children close for now.
“Your mask.” He held his hand out, waiting. Dick stared at him for a moment before peeling it off slowly, the others watched quietly as Nightwing removed his mask. “We do not kill, no matter what. You’re benched for the time being.”
“Fine. But don’t act like you wouldn’t have done it either. I wasn’t stupid and Peter wasn’t the only one.”
Dick stormed past for the changing rooms, shoulders pulled back and hands fisted at his side. Oracle’s findings had led to CCTV of Wescott with other children, nothing incriminating but the children slowly leaving his side told enough of the story. The camera stills painted the picture no one else saw. No reports were ever filed to confirm and no one had gone to investigate thoroughly. Batman will have to do some research of his own.
Maybe if he had been there, he might have acted just as rashly. Maybe he would have thought it through more. Batman doesn’t kill. He didn’t kill Joker, but he wanted to. He didn’t kill Wescott and maybe he would have. But Batman cannot not kill.
–
“Why did no one tell me?” Drake scowled, storming into the changing rooms. Damian spared him a glance before focusing back on Richard. They both knew Richard did not deliver the final blow, the last cut. He should have been the one to turn in his mask, Damian had done it in the end. Yet Richard had taken the blame, stared at Father and took the credit for ridding the world of another predator that stalked their city.
“You were busy.” Richard sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose similarly to Father. “Damian… let me handle Bruce.”
Father had benched him. Damian couldn’t see how he felt it fair to do so. Peter had needed protection and will continue to need it until their father can accept his need for training. Wescott hardly deserved time in prison to fix him. These sorts of criminals rarely ever change. When they do, it's a miracle but Damian is not a believer. He has accepted his Father's rule but that does not mean he would follow it when it came to Peter. He is a child, one who is innocent and far too gentle for his own good. No one should look upon him with those miserable thoughts, should not have the power to act on it.
His Father had told him once that children are innocent, that they should be free from the burdens of their parents. It was meant to push Damian into behaving more like a child but he chose to take the lesson as a directive for Peter. He should be safe to grow up from the horrors that the rest of them face. He may want to be a vigilante and Damian would gladly watch his back, but he had been harmed as Peter. As a child who only wanted a friend.
“Busy.” Drake stated. “Busy? I’m not busy when it comes to this sort of thing! Peter was hurt! You didn’t think I would want to know!?”
Richard sighed, eyebrows furrowing in a way that seemed more sad than frustrated. “I know. I’m sorry but… look we all already know what happened but Peter doesn’t know we do. He has to come to us. I didn’t want more of us knowing this without him having a say. He gets the choice.”
Damian eyed the pair as he placed his suit in the hamper for Alfred. Richard made a valid point. Peter will require careful handling from now on. If Father chose to remain in the cave then it only meant Kyle was still there to comfort him. Turning away from the two, Damian left the changing rooms for the elevator.
He skirts the cave walls, avoiding his Father’s sight. He will no doubt come to question Damian but he was in no means ready to back up Richard’s claims just yet. If his brother wished to take sole responsibility then he can. Damian had more important matters to attend to.
The path to Peter’s room was easy. Whilst everyone remained in the cave, Damian had an uninterrupted journey before reaching the door to his brother. Damian hesitated, eyeing the doorknob before finally reaching for it. Peter would likely still be asleep, though he can’t imagine that will last for much longer. Peter had slept enough this afternoon that he wouldn’t fall asleep until the morning.
“Damian.” Kyle greeted him. Bucky slept soundly on them with Peter. His brother had his arms wrapped around the cub as his mother stroked his hair. “Care to tell me what’s going on?”
“The problem has been resolved.” Wescott was taken care of. Now, they had the time to focus on Peter. It was clear Kyle wanted more of an answer but she did not push, her hand left Peter’s hair long enough to pat the space beside her in invitation before returning to his head.
Damian eyed the space in question. His mother never saw reason to coddle Damian. He was the heir to the Demon’s Head. Love and affection were earned, Damian earned a kiss to the head enough but he couldn’t imagine how to earn this sort of treatment from her. Kyle offered it gently, her eyes focused on her son.
He thought of the tears in Peter’s eyes. His brother would want him here when he woke up.
Damian came over, carefully sliding onto the bed to sit beside Kyle. Her hand left the phone she clutched before to wrap around his shoulders slowly. Damian stilled, watching her pull him to her side. He allowed it, leaning into her as Peter and Bucky slept.
He failed to protect Peter.
As the older brother it was his duty to do so yet he failed .
He accepted the comfort he did not feel he deserved, promising to keep a closer eye on Peter. Perhaps he should involve Jon, his hearing could reach Gotham. He could very easily listen to Peter every day to ensure he is safe, though he may hear Damian speaking with him as well. Damian would prefer to have his privacy from his friend but he could endure it if it meant Peter would be safe.
***–***
The first thought as he woke up was the overwhelming heat the enveloped him.
Something heavy trapped his legs in place, fur brushing against his pants. A familiar hand rested on his head that laid on his mom’s leg. Peter blinked awake, rubbing at an eye as he focused on his mom sleeping on his bed.
Damian curled up on her other side, his head pressed against her shoulder. Peter could hear their hearts, the slower beats telling him they both weren’t waking up yet. Bucky purred, his head twisting back to rub against him, jostling the bed as the cub shifted to focus on him
Peter giggled, pushing the head away as the cub licked at his face. “Bucky! Shhh.”
His mom and brother were still asleep, another heart picked up as someone else woke up. Peter turned to it, seeing his dad shifting awake from his desk. His dad looked like a giant where he hunched over the table, head resting on arms cramped together to avoid pushing the books from their place. “Peter?”
His dad sat up quickly, groaning as he rubbed his back. Peter nodded, his legs freed from Bucky now tucked close to his chest. “Morning.”
“How’d you sleep, chum?” His dad came around the bed, carefully sitting on his other side. The bed dipped, sliding Peter closer to him.
“Why’re you sleeping here?” His dad never slept in his room. Sometimes Peter would go to sleep in his parents’ bed when he had nightmares or if something happened. He couldn’t remember them coming to his room to sleep though.
“We were worried, Pete.” His dad whispered, a thumb gently rubbing along Peter’s cheek. He found himself leaning into it, drinking in the warmth and attention.
*The comment shattered the rose tinted glasses Peter had. The morning with Bucky and his parents, with Damian asleep on his mom shattered as the phantom grip on his wrist, the hands he couldn’t wash away grasping for him. Peter bit his lip as tears filled his eyes. He didn’t want to think about it.
“I’m hungry.” Peter crawled away from them, hearing his mom and brother waking up now.
“Where’re you going, kitten?” His mom’s gentle voice called him back. Peter hesitated on the edge of the bed, half yearning for her hug but going back to her arms meant his dad would try and ask about it.
“Kitchen.” He mumbled before rushing out of his room. Peter didn’t look back as Bucky padded to his side. Bucky pushed, rubbing his head along Peter’s leg as he herded him farther down the hallway.
Peter smiled, letting Bucky lead the way. They haven’t followed him, he could hear his mom questioning his dad as Damian stayed silent.
Bucky led him towards the dining room where voices alerted him of his siblings already being awake. Peter had to pull Bucky from jumping onto the table, drawn towards the smell of bacon. Steph smiled brightly at him, throwing bacon for Bucky. Tim had his tablet opened on the table where he seemed to be too focused on it to notice him. Dick and Duke were sneaking bits of food while they waited for everyone to arrive.
Alfred’s rule about eating together was carried out for all meals. No one wanted to be caught eating before anyone else but that didn’t stop everyone from picking at it. Peter was pretty sure Alfred knew and allowed it.
“Hey Pete, how’d you sleep?” Dick smiled. There were bags under his eyes and his hair was left messy.
“Okay. Did you sleep?” Peter climbed onto the chair beside Dick, frowning at his brother’s face.
“A little.” He shrugged, a hand reaching out to ruffle Peter’s own messy hair.
Peter knew he was lying. Dick hadn’t slept but he didn’t know why . His oldest brother was great at managing a normal schedule with everything he has to do. Peter was sure it came from being a vigilante for so many years that he’s made the perfect sleep schedule.
“Hey Peter, what’s your plan for today?” Steph leaned around Dick to grin at him, her eyes lit up with some kind of plan of her own.
“I don’t know.” It was Saturday today. Usually Peter would have gymnastics with Dick after breakfast. He didn’t feel as excited for it today as he would have been any other time. Peter… wanted another shower. And maybe to sleep some more. Hide away from everyone too if he could manage.
Alfred brought out more plates as his parents and Damian finally joined them. Peter perked up at the chocolate chip pancakes and the slice of cherry pie that was placed in front of him. “Pie?” Peter glanced at Alfred to make sure it wasn’t a mistake. He never let them have dessert for breakfast.
“Just for today, Master Peter.” Alfred smiled, his eyes resting on Peter for a moment longer before moving on to bring his dad the newspaper.
“Well if you don’t have any plans, I got an idea.” Steph continued, piling her plate with pancakes and croissants. “Just you and me, maybe Jason.”
“Peter’s staying home today, Steph.” His dad cut in, accepting the newspaper from Alfred.
Peter frowned at that, choosing to focus on his pie. He liked hanging out with Steph and she sounds excited so it had to be fun.
“Why don’t you let Peter decide?” Steph bit back, never losing her smile.
His dad huffed, giving up when his mom patted his arm. Peter glanced back at Steph who beamed at him, eyebrows wiggling. He grinned, laughing when Bucky stole a pancake from her plate. She cursed, shielding her plate from the cub that nosed at her arm for more now. “Peter!”
“Perhaps it’s time for Bucky to return to his pen for the day.” Alfred suggested idly, watching from across the room as Bucky kept pawing at Steph’s arms. Peter pouted but before he could get up, Damian moved to take Bucky out.
“Thanks Dami.” Peter smiled, pouting still as Bucky was led out of the dining room. Steph praised Damian and Alfred as she poked at her pancakes, pushing one off her plate that had some of Bucky’s saliva on it.
***–***
Jason had finally gone to sleep after practically clearing out Crime Alley of three separate gangs. He couldn’t even remember what happened after Alfred shooed them away. He remembered feeling angry when he had the silence to think . Thinking about Peter, about Wescott, about a teenager’s bedroom where his baby brother had been hours before. The green quickly took hold of him, caging any coherent thought and running wild through the streets.
People had wisely hidden from him after he snuffed out one gang, leaving behind broken bones and bloody walls. He hadn’t killed again, managing to have just enough control to hold back from the kill shot. However, the citizens of his territory knew to bunker down for the night.
Word travels fast in Crime Alley and it only took one person to spread the message.
The Red Hood was on the prowl, bloodthirsty and itching for a fight. He stalked across rooftops, picking off gangs that he had been investigating. He used the rage that flooded his veins to storm through shitheads that were begging for a beating.
His suit, bloody and torn now, had been thrown into the bathroom in his safehouse. He’ll have to clean the blood off soon but Jason had landed on his couch and the desire to get back up was not enticing. His bones practically melted into the cushions, a heavy weight hanging over him, pushing him further into the couch.
Jason closed his eyes, finally allowing himself a chance to rest. He was so tired and sore that sleep came easily. His time in the League had taught him to get sleep whenever and wherever he could. A couch was yards better than sand or rocks, his safehouse was leagues safer than Nanda Parbat or some rusted hideout.
Still, he didn't fall deep enough into sleep to shut his brain up.
Jason rolled over, facing the backrest of the couch and tried again. He slowed his breathing, clearing his mind. The slow buzz of sleep calmed him enough but he stayed awake.
A knock on the door had him up before he could even comprehend it. His gun trained to the door where the sound came from. Jason glared at it, his arm feeling like lead as he rose from the couch.
He ignored the burn, pushing forward to the door as someone knocked on it again. A quick peek into the peephole, Jason spotted the familiar blonde hair of a certain vigilante. He dropped his arm, breathing out as the burn cooled somewhat.
“What do ya want?” Jason bit out as he swung the door open. Steph beamed at him, her hands tucked into the pockets of the bomber jacket she wore, Peter at her side eyes bright as he looked up at him. Jason took in his baby brother, Peter didn’t even look tired though if Dick was right then he slept way more than all of them combined.
“Steph says we’re going to some warehouse. Wanna come?” Peter stepped around Steph to get closer to him. Jason smirked as Peter wrinkled his nose, his enhanced senses no doubt picking up on all sorts of things around here. Not to mention the blood that Jason hadn’t scrubbed from his skin yet.
“Whatchya plannin on doing there?” He raised an eyebrow as Steph. She was generally chaotic, a reason that Dick claimed had led to Batman pushing her away as Batgirl.
Steph grinned, walking past him into his apartment before speaking. Jason sighed, shutting the door once Peter was in. “We are going to paint it!”
Paint it… Jason dropped onto the couch, groaning. Peter joined him, tugging an arm to wrap around his shoulders. Jason grinned, pulling him into his side before turning to Steph. “Paint it?”
She rolled her eyes, still standing by the couch. “Yeah yeah don’t doubt the master. Let’s gooo.”
Jason was bone tired but still pushed himself from the couch after a few minutes. He showered and changed before joining the pair outside. Peter walked between them, holding both their hands as they walked to the car Steph had ‘borrowed’ from Bruce. It made him feel a little better knowing that she took it without asking. Any bit of rebellion just sang to him.
Peter and Steph argued about Bucky during the drive, giving Jason a chance to nap for a bit as she drove them. He really only woke up when Peter had been granted control over the steering wheel. He nearly drove them onto a sidewalk before Jason had managed to surge forward and correct them as Steph laughed. He grumbled, watching the steering wheel the rest of the way.
Once they reached the abandoned warehouse, Jason considered the plan again. They were planning to paint this? With wha-
Steph opened the trunk to reveal paint guns and white overalls. She passed out the overalls first as they all silently put them on. Jason took that time to eye the other toys she had. Grenades that he could only assume, and hope, had paint inside. Various types of guns and magazines that were obviously too bulky to be filled with bullets.
“Painting, huh?” Jason smirked, watching as Peter tried to lift a machine paint gun from the trunk.
“Painting.” Steph agreed before lifting the gun for Peter. “Here, try this one first.” She handed him a smaller one that looked more like a water gun, the bright neon green barrel mocked the rest of her stash.
Peter beamed, thanking her before firing a few shots to form a smiley face on her leg. The paint was unsurprisingly green, leaving a dripping face that quickly got swept away by her hand. “Oh ew! Why’d I touch it!” She squealed, chasing after Peter to wipe her hand on him.
Jason watched them run around before he grabbed a gun of his own, testing it on the concrete to find it was filled with yellow paint. He raised the gun for a moment, aiming, and shot paint at Steph’s shoulders. Just above the coverage of her overalls, now splattered in yellow paint as she screeched. He laughed, grinning as Peter attacked now that she was distracted. Steph was quickly covered in yellow and green paint, her face being the only part safe for now.
“Where these.” Jason tossed the goggles to her before handing a pair off to Peter. He wore his own pair, eyeing the building before glancing at the two beside him. Peter was looking more alive now. He was fine before but Jason could see how he bounced more now. Running ahead to shoot a line of paint along the walls of the rusted walls, laughing as he painted shapes and tried making a dog or something with it.
“I think I win best sibling.” Steph teased before she joined Peter. Jason rolled his eyes, shooting yellow paint at her hair before ducking behind rusted pipes.
Jason crept along the pipes, peeking out to aim more paint at Steph who found coverage behind an old car that was missing tires and had old bullet holes with rust covering the openings. Peter had hidden himself somewhere too, the only evidence he was there being the haunting giggles that echoed above as green paint splattered near Steph.
“Hey!” She whined, managing to get some purple paint into his hair. Jason made a face, knowing that would be a bitch to clean out after it dries.
Jason ducked back for cover, creeping farther away from his previous spot to find a better vantage point. Green paint dripped down his back. Jason cursed, jumping back to look upwards at Peter who laughed from above him. He shot some more paint up, hitting Peter’s shoe before ducking to avoid the retaliation.
“Hey Jay.” Steph grinned, landing in front of him with the barrel raised.
“Hey Steph.” Jason raised his hands, grinning at the yellow paint that had already hardened in her hair. It was matted against her blonde hair now, flat and stringy as compared to her usual style. “Like what you’ve done with your hair.”
“You too.” She smirked as his hair felt cold, paint dripping down his forehead and around his goggles. Jason closed his eyes on reflex, he would bet money on who just emptied their paint gun on his head.
Peter’s laughter echoed as he left his hiding spot above them. Steph burst into laughter of her own, gasping for breath as she commented on his own style. Jason snorted, shooting her goggles before leaving to follow Peter as she spluttered behind him.
–
“There is a hose around the back. There will be no paint entering the manor lest you are the trained painters I have not requested.” Alfred raised an eyebrow, staring down at his grandchildren.
Miss Stephanie stood proudly, her usual smile present as paint still dripped from her hair. She was covered in yellow, green, purple, and blues. Some of it already crusted and flaking off with her movement.
Master Jason grinned beside her, just as covered in the same colors as she is. His hair flattened to his head where green and blue had formed its own pond.
Master Peter seemed the most clean, which said barely anything at all. His hair was fairly clear of paint. Only a few strands clinging together to purple paint while the rest of him was coated in various colors.
The only clean space on the three of them were their eyes, clear marks of goggles leaving behind indents that had slow drips of paint breaking past.
Despite the mess, Peter seemed happy once again. His eyes were bright as he teased Jason, boasting about his skills. Alfred found himself smiling despite the obvious threat of paint on his carpets. No one will allow Peter to mope and forget himself. He can only hope to steer Master Bruce in the right direction in handling this before Peter finds himself suffocated under his son’s paranoia.
“Can Alfred join us next time?” Peter asked Stephanie as they wandered around the yard in search of the hose he mentioned. “I bet he’s scary good!”
Alfred hummed, returning to the kitchen to prepare dinner for them. They had been gone for longer than he planned but that hardly mattered when it meant Peter had a good day.