#and that somewhere is alfred taking care of a child who suddenly became an orphan and had no one else

[luxaofhesperides]

those who serve.

Running away from Amity Park—from his entire dimension—Danny takes refuge in the streets of Gotham. It's hard, suddenly being a homeless teenager in such a crime-ridden city, but it's better than dying a second time.

Enter Alfred Pennyworth, a kind old man who works as a butler who, for some reason, has decided to befriend Danny.

His future is still up in the air, but he's hopeful that things will work out. After all, Alfred isn't getting any younger and someone needs to help him with his butler duties. Danny's just the right person for the job.

Or: Alfred Pennyworth sees a homeless teen who looks like he'd fit right into the Wayne family and decides to take matters into his own hands. It's not like he's just going to leave this very sad, possibly meta teenager alone when there's more than enough space in the Manor to house one more child in need.

read chapter one on ao3 or below the cut.

Technically, Danny doesn’t exist. 

He has no papers, no records, no family in this dimension. It’s a blank slate, a fresh start where he can be anything he wants. That doesn’t change what he is, however, and Danny is just another lonely child living on the streets. 

In Gotham, he’s not a hero or a threat; he’s just another nameless face passing by, another teenager with no support system and no future. Just a figure clinging to the alley walls, head bowed and hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. It’s not great, far from it, but it’s better than the alternative where he—

—parading around in the corpse of our son! How dare you! Wearing his face won’t save you from what we’ll do to you! Leave Danny’s body so we can bury him, leave him! I’ll tear you ap—

This is better, is the point. Out of the frying pan and into the crime ridden streets of Gotham. Not quite a fire but close enough.

No one is hunting him down in this dimension, at least. He’s ignored and left to his own devices, wandering the streets only when the sun’s gone down and slipping into grocery stores after hours, invisible, to get a few things to eat. It sucks that he’s resorted to stealing to survive, but at least he’s surviving. 

Survival is the entire reason he ran from his own dimension, after all.

He’s been here for two and a half weeks now, getting acquainted with the streets. Every day is spent hiding and trying to endure the crushing loneliness and grief of losing his entire life. He’s still half alive, yes, but the life he lived has gone up in flames, torn to pieces under his parents’ attacks. He can’t even blame them for it; under the circumstances, with the limited understanding they had, it’s only natural that they would try to kill him after discovering that Danny Fenton, their son, died two years ago.

Understanding doesn’t stop the sting of betrayal, doesn’t soothe the ache of being chased away from his family, but it’s something. 

It’s all he has, these days.

There’s no one to hide from, no one who knows him at all, so Danny wanders, more ghost-like than he’s ever been before. People give him a wide berth at night, never making eye contact and walking by faster. 

Save for one, of course. One person, at dawn, who always seems to find him no matter where Danny’s wandered that night. 

He introduced himself as Alfred Pennyworth. The British accent caught Danny off guard enough that he stopped and turned to face the man, who stood a few feet away, umbrella held over his head. 

“Are you quite all right, my boy?” he had asked. “I have a spare umbrella if you would like to keep from getting any more soaked.”

It took a few tries for Danny to find his voice after a week of not speaking a word. “No,” he rasped, barely audible over the rain, “I’m fine.”

He walked away without another word, thinking that was the end of it.

It wasn’t.

Alfred returned dawn after dawn, never staying longer than ten minutes, trying to make small talk with Danny. 

Danny, for his part, had no idea why this random British man had decided to make friends with a homeless teenager, but figured that he was just a lonely old man with no family left. That, Danny could understand. So he’d stay for a bit, listening to him talk and occasionally replying, then say his goodbyes when more people began to emerge onto the street. 

Two and a half weeks in, Alfred finally asks Danny for his name.

“Why?” Danny asks, shifting where he stands. He doesn’t exist here, but it doesn’t stop his instinctual need to run from anyone who goes looking into him. The GIW don’t exist here, no one is hunting him down. There’s no information about him in this dimension that can be used against him. It’s hard to remember that, not after he’s spent the last few years trying to keep ghost hunters from finding him. 

“I feel it’s rather rude of me to speak to someone I have never properly greeted,” Alfred says. He always speaks so calmly, as if there’s nothing in the world that can shake his composure.

I don’t exist here, Danny reminds himself, I’m safe. 

“Danny.”

“Danny,” Alfred repeats. “A fine name.”

“Thanks? It was my first birthday present.”

The stupid comment makes Alfred smile, just a little, so Danny calls it a win instead of beating himself up over having zero control over what his mouth says. 

There’s more movement along the streets now, Gotham beginning to wake up with storeowners getting ready for the day and morning shift employees heading out to let the night shift go. It’s just about time for them to part ways until the next morning, and Danny’s resigning himself to another day of loneliness. 

His short conversations with Alfred are really all he looks forward to. It’s nice to hear about the man’s time in England, his work as a butler, his opinions on American cuisine and the like. He never presses for a response and he doesn’t try to dig for more information about Danny. Just talks to him, then says his goodbyes. 

“I’ll let you go back to your day,” Danny says, pushing off of the wall he’s been leaning against. “See you around.”

Alfred nods once. “Very well. I do hope you get some rest today, Danny. You always look very tired when we talk. I hope I haven’t been keeping you from sleeping.”

“Oh, not at all. I just have insomnia. Better to have some company than just lay around wondering why I can’t sleep, you know?”

“Indeed. I shall be off then.”

“Yeah, alright,” Danny says. “I’ll see you tomorrow once you somehow track me down again. Are you sure you don’t have magic?”

Alfred shakes his head with a small smile. “I am quite positive I do not have magic. Perhaps we simply have similar ideas about where the best places to walk are.”

“Sure,” Danny says, drawing out the word. “Whatever you say.”

Truth be told, the first few days, he was scared that Alfred was somehow tracking him down. For what, Danny didn’t know. Maybe he wanted to harvest Danny’s organs? Sell him to an evil scientist to be experimented on? Induct him into a mob?

Alfred didn’t do any of that. He just showed up, talked for a few minutes, then went on his way. He never followed Danny, never asked strange questions, never did anything besides chat about his life and his work as a butler. 

It honestly was fun to listen to. It’s clear how much Alfred cares for his employers. Before meeting him, Danny had never really thought of butlers beyond being an outdated job for people too rich to do their own chores. Now it’s interesting, learning all the things a butler has to do and why Alfred chooses to do them. 

He still doesn’t have a favorable opinion on billionaires. Too many bad experiences for him to view them is any unbiased light (thanks for that, Vlad, but eat the rich either way); still, it’s nice to know that this family looks out for Alfred. They give him a place to live, a family to live with, a reason to stay. 

It would be nice if Danny could have those too, in any way that he could. He’s at the end of his rope, struggling to stay and not surrender himself into the Zone and be done with the living realm entirely.

Even his Obsession isn’t enough to sustain him. There’s no one to protect here; honest to god vigilantes patrol the streets of Gotham to keep it safe. Danny isn’t needed here. 

There’s no place for him at all.

Already, his mood is plummeting and all he’s done is take a few steps away from Alfred. It doesn’t bode well for his future, whether that’s what’s to come in the next few hours or the next year.

Sighing, Danny ducks his head back down and begins his search for someplace to bunker down for the day. There are quite a few empty buildings around, newly constructed but not yet in use. He doubts there’s any security installed yet, so he should be safe to settle in and catch some sleep before the sun goes down. 

Just as he turns the corner, he hears someone running. They’re behind him and he tenses, ready to disappear so they can’t get him. 

It’s not Danny they go to. It’s Alfred.

“Hand over your wallet if you want to get out of here alive, old man!”

Shit, Danny thinks, spinning on his heel to get back to Alfred. He rounds the corner to see a mugger jabbing a gun at Alfred’s temple. He looks angry, nearly shaking, and there’s a strange shine in his eyes.

Drugs? No, not important. What’s important is that Alfred is standing still, as calm as ever, with his hands lifted in the air. 

“Hey!” Danny yells, sprinting towards them, “Back the fuck up before I rip your tongue out!”

Fear and anger push him on, his Obsession whispering protect protect protect in his ear and he closes the distance between them.

The mugger barely has time to move the gun away from Alfred’s head, and no time at all to point it at Danny, before Danny tackles him, slamming him onto the ground. He rips the gun out of the mugger’s hand and tosses it carelessly to the side. 

“Don’t touch him,” he hisses. Faintly, he’s aware that his features are shifting, becoming a little less human. The snarl building in his chest has his teeth sharpening, bared in warning. 

The mugger trembles beneath him, thrashing weakly. “Alright, alright! Just lemme go! Let go!”

He doesn’t want to. Danny wants to hurt him for daring to go after Alfred, the one good light in the dark, the only person Danny cares about in this dimension. He wants to make this man regret his choices, make him terrified for the rest of his life, break every bone in his hand so he can’t ever pick up a gun again. 

A hand drops onto his shoulder. 

“That’s enough, Danny,” Alfred says. His voice is stern and Danny can’t help but listen, effortlessly pulled out of his adrenaline fueled rage. His humanity returns to him. “There we are. Come now, my boy, stand up.”

He stands. The mugger scrambles to his feet and runs away. 

With the danger gone, Danny can think clearly again. He takes a few deep breaths and locks his ghost-half away as tightly as possible, keeping the cold in his chest buried deep. It was good for scaring away a mugger, but he doesn’t want Alfred to think he’s a monster. 

He can handle a lot, but not that. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking over Alfred for any injuries. There’s no telling that was done to him before Danny got the mugger away from him. It may have only been a moment, but Danny knows very well how quickly a moment can change a life (or take it away).

“Quite. In fact, I am sure you are in worse shape than I am, at the moment.” Alfred gestures downwards and Danny follows his gaze to his knees, where his already worn jeans have new holes in them. His knees are skinned from how hard he slammed into the ground, a dull ache he hadn’t noticed until it was pointed out to him. 

“It’s fine,” he says, “I can barely feel it.” 

Alfred gives him a hard look, as though he thinks Danny is lying; he’s not, the pain is barely there. He’s had a lot worse in the past. He can handle skinned knees easily. 

“Well,” Alfred says, “Thank you for coming back to help me. If there’s anything I can do to pay you back—”

“No. I don’t… I didn’t do it for payment. I don’t need anything.”

“I would like to—”

“No,” Danny interrupts again. “No payment. I just did what was right. Don’t make this a big deal, please.”

Alfred sighs. “Very well,” he concedes, looking more tired and worn than Danny’s ever seen him. “I shall not keep you any longer. Until tomorrow, Danny.”

He looks as though he expects Danny to take the out, to leave immediately. Danny shifts, not meeting his eyes as he doesn’t move. 

“I’ll walk with you,” he mumbles. “So no one tries to hurt you again.”

Danny’s worried that Alfred will insist on going alone, that he’ll have to go invisible and follow along when he isn’t wanted, but Alfred is kinder than that. Alfred doesn’t refuse or insist he go on his own. No, he smiles and thanks Danny for his consideration before taking off, making sure that Danny walks besides him rather than behind him.

They don’t talk much. Alfred seems to know that Danny isn’t much for words at the moment, sticking to his side and constantly surveying their surroundings for any danger. He walks confidently through the streets as though he wasn’t just held at gunpoint, carrying on with his morning with the same stubborn spirit that keeps most Gothamites from giving up on their city. 

Alfred visits a small bakery first. They’re not yet open, but the owner props open the door when they arrive, waving them in.

“Alfred!” she greets cheerfully, “And I see you have someone new with you.”

She looks expectantly at Danny, who shifts uncomfortably under the attention. He can’t get his voice to work, can’t figure out how to get the right words out.

“Ah, yes,” Alfred says, smoothly drawing her attention off of Danny. “This is Danny. We often talk in the morning and he has decided to accompany me today.”

“I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you! I’m Yurica. Alfred and I enjoy some tea together in the mornings before starting with our days. Why don’t you join us?”

“I don’t… mean to intrude,” Danny manages to say before Yurica waves off his hesitant refusal.

“Nonsense! Any friend of Alfred is a friend of mine. Come, come, let’s get the two of you seated. You’ll get the first picks of the day, once I get the last batches out of the ovens.”

She leads them into the bakery, past the kitchen and upstairs into a small sitting room. Danny follows them, unable to leave without seeming rude. He joins Alfred on the couch, awkwardly perched on the edge as Yurica bustles around, disappearing down the hall. 

Distantly, he hears the sound of running water and a stove top being turned on. The clinking of cups follows, along with the opening and closing of cupboards. It almost sounds like home, when Jazz was setting herself up for a long study session to make sure she’s prepared for college. 

Without noticing, Danny relaxes back into the couch. He keeps his eyes closed, just listening to the movement around the building; it’s soothing white noise that chases away the constant ache of loneliness he’s been carrying these past few weeks. 

“Quite the relaxing home, isn’t it?” Alfred asks. 

“You come here every day?”

“Not every day, but a few times a week. We’re old friends and are often up before anyone else. It’s nice to catch up for just a few minutes, especially at our age.”

He wonders if this is what it feels like, spending time with grandparents. He never met his own, could never relate to the kids who were always excited to spend time with their grandparents over the holidays, eager to be part of a bigger family. It was fine, before, when it was just him, Jazz, and their parents. 

It was fine. 

It didn’t last.

Yurica returns a few minutes later, carrying a tray full of cups and a teapot made to look like a fat cat. The sight of it makes him smile, almost distracting him from noticing the way Yurica and Alfred share a Look. 

“Here we are,” she says, setting the tray down on the table. She lays out the cups before Danny can offer to help, pouring out fragrant tea with a steady hand. “Cream? Sugar?”

Alfred adds cream to his own cup while Danny shakes his head, quietly thanking her for the tea. 

He cradles his cup in his hands, savoring the gentle warmth while Alfred and Yurica chat. He tunes them out, letting their voices fade into background noise. 

This is the most relaxed he’s felt in months. It’s sad to think about, so he tries not to, but it lingers in the back of his mind. 

Time passes without him noticing. Danny sips his tea until his cup is empty, then sets it down on the tray. That seems to be a cue that Alfred was waiting for, long done with his own cup, and he stands, thanking Yurica for her hospitality. 

She waves it off with a smile before Danny can echo the sentiments, then ushers them downstairs, where trays of freshly baked pastries fill cover the counters of the bakery’s kitchen. 

“Here, take your pick!”

Danny’s about to refuse when she shoves a paper bag into his hands. “Go on,” she says, “Take what you like. I always offer to friends and I find refusal to be rude.”

Now that she’s said that, Danny can’t keep refusing or he’ll feel awful. Alfred is already picking out a few pastries himself, so Danny trails after him, taking three pastries that look good. It’ll be enough to tide him over for the next two days, so he won’t have to steal any food. 

“Thank you again, Yurica,” Alfred says, “It’s always a pleasure to chat with you.”

“Oh, you’re always such a sweet talker,” Yurica laughs. “I’ll see you again soon, Alfred. And you, Danny, are welcome here whenever. Even without Alfred. My doors are open to you.”

Yurica is kind. She sees him in all his scraggly, worn down glory, clearly homeless and with nothing to offer her, and she doesn’t turn him away. Instead she welcomes him in solely because he’s here with Alfred. 

It’s enough to have him blinking back tears, ducking his head so they don’t see how much this affects him. 

“Thank you,” he manages, then hurries to follow Alfred out the bakery. 

Yurica waves at them from the door as they make their way down the street, then goes back in to continue preparing for the day. 

Alfred walks around some more; he informs Danny that he has no errands to run at the moment and no one else to visit. Danny follows, keeping an eye out for anyone who might think Alfred is an easy target. He barely pays attention to where they go until they enter an underground parking garage. 

The weak lights and stillness of the garage, along with the fact that it’s almost entirely empty, makes a fissure of unease race down his spine. This would be the perfect place for Danny to be knocked out and taken away; no witnesses, no help. 

But Alfred wouldn’t do that. Danny wants to believe that Alfred wouldn’t do that. 

He stops when Alfred pulls out a set of keys from his pocket. A black car in the back corner of the parking garage unlocks with a quick flash of the headlights. That is… an expensive looking car. It’s not an obvious luxury brand or anything, but it’s high quality and clearly made for people with money. 

Guess being a butler pays well, Danny thinks. 

Alfred opens the door, but doesn’t get into the car. Instead, he looks to Danny.

“Will you be alright, Danny? If you’d like, I have a first aid kit in the car that we can use to tend to your knees.”

“No, it’s fine. Thanks, though,” Danny says, trying to keep from tensing up too obviously. 

“And you have a place to stay?”

“Sure do,” he lies. 

“If you ever need help, you are welcome at Wayne Manor.”

Danny nods, intending to never go to the manor. He’s not going to risk another rich person trying to either 1) kill him or 2) make him their son. No way. Not in this dimension. 

Alfred looks him over, then nods. He gets into the car, offering Danny a quick goodbye. Danny lifts a hand in return, then leaves the parking garage, holding his bag of pastries close to his chest. More people are starting to fill the streets, starting the day, and Danny still hasn’t found a place to hide until night. 

He’s kept Alfred safe during his dawn walk. He’s safely delivered Alfred to his car so he can drive to wherever he needs to go.

There’s no point in him sticking around any longer. 

Hood up, Danny hurries down the streets, ducking into alleys to avoid being seen by people. It takes half an hour to reach the empty buildings he was considering before, and then just a minute to go invisible and fly up to the roof. The door going inside is locked, but a little intangibility goes a long way. 

Danny makes himself comfortable in one of the many empty rooms, back to the wall, and pulls out one of the pastries. It’s not as warm as before, but it’s still soft and flakey. The glaze on it sweetens the bread and it’s the best thing Danny’s had since he first arrived in this dimension.

This can’t go on, he realizes. 

All this squatting and stealing. It’s just not sustainable. He’s been acting as if he’s died again, left to haunt the streets of a city he doesn’t belong in. He’s spent all his time either sleeping or wandering, wallowing in his own misery.

No more. This is a second chance. 

There’s no ghost hunters. No GIW. No need to be a hero when so many already exist, willingly taking on that burden. Here, Danny doesn’t exist, which means he can be anyone he wants to be. 

And in order to live this new life, he’ll need a job. He’ll worry about school once he’s able to save up some money and find a place to live. 

Step one to getting his shit together: find a job that will take on a homeless teenager who doesn’t legally exist.

He’s already got one in mind; Alfred does keep offering to help in any way he can, and he’s made working as a butler sound fulfilling. 

Serving isn’t quite protecting, but it’ll be close enough that he can satisfy his Obsession. 

The pieces are falling into place. The more he thinks about it, the more he likes this plan. 

He’ll ask Alfred about it when they next meet. Everything else can wait until then.

(“Are you sure you’re okay, Alfred?”

“Quite,” Alfred says, smoothly stepping away from Bruce’s fussing. “Danny scared the mugger away before he could do anything.”

“I’m glad he was there. Are you sure I can’t go meet him? Thank him in person?”

“You’ll only scare him away, I’m afraid.”

Bruce sighs, reaching for his cup of coffee. “What about as Batman?”

“That will only be worse, I’m sure. Not everything can be solved by putting on a mask, Master Bruce.”

Tim enters the kitchen, drops a tablet on the table in front of Bruce, then collapses into his seat with a groan. “I can’t find anything on him. Are we sure he’s real?”

“I assure you he is very real, Master Tim.”

Tim lifts his head to give Alfred a bleary, assessing stare. “I know we always rag on B about his adoption problem, but he got it from you. You’re not going to stop until you get this Danny guy into the Manor, right?”

“It’s either that or setting up a home for him in Gotham.”

“Bring him here,” Tim says with a yawn, putting his head back on the table, “Now I’m curious about him, too.”

“I shall do my best, Master Tim. I shall do my best.”)

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc fanfic #danny fenton #alfred pennyworth #my writing #fic #chapter one of three!! dont ask abt an update schedule. i dont have one and never will #i just want alfred to adopt danny. he found danny first in this one!! #i mean. bruce had to get it from somewhere #and that somewhere is alfred taking care of a child who suddenly became an orphan and had no one else #its a family trait really #butler danny au #alfred's apprentice au

[superhero-boogie]

They can't know. Part 1.

(Okay, this shit is super long and not at all what I planned to be, but you know what? I'm still happy. For those of you who are waiting for the Jason Todd story; I'm working on it. I already finished this one so I might be posting it the other part today.)

Warning; Angst, Hints of anxiety, Cursing. ( I think that's it)

Request; None. ( You can send me.)

You weren’t a superhero like the rest of your family, but that didn’t stop you from hanging at the Batcave, the coolest place on earth, especially from using the gigantic screen of the bat computer to watch movies. Your brother Dick was spending days over to visit you and invited his best friend. You were watching your favorite tv show while Wally West, aka Kid Flash, was somewhere at the Batcave with your older brother.

- Wally? Wally? - Dick snapped his fingers on his face - Wally!

He jumped facing an annoyed Dick.

- W-what?!

- Are you listening? This is important, dude!

- I know, I was! - He said trying to distract Dick from looking behind his back at the direction he was staring; Yours.

- Were you seriously watching tv rather than listening? Really, man?

- I got distracted, sorry! What were we talking again? - Relief ran his body.

Dick scan his face with suspicious before turning to talk to you.

- Y/N?

- Yeah, Dickie? - You said still staring at the Bat-computer.

- Can’t you watch this back at the Manor?

- Sure. - You responded, eyes still on the scene, not moving an inch.

Dick waited a minute until speaking again.

- So?

- Huh? What? - You said making Wally smile at your concentration.

- Will you watch at the Manor? - He asked impatiently.

- Nope. Now shush.

- But you said you could!  

- That I could, not that would! Now shut up, the love of my life is talking. - You said, waving your hand at them, talking about your favorite actor.

Wally put his hand dramatically above his heart.

- But Y/N! I thought I was the love of your life!

- Sure, whatever floats your boat, dude. - You sighed dreamily seeing the actor taking off his shirt. - I thought you were talking about something important?

Dick turned to Wally again with a “see what I have to go through every day” face before continuing his speech.

- So as I was saying before being so rudely ignored, I was thinking about doing a YJ reunion. What do you think?

- Why? Is something wrong? - It confused Wally, he remembered none bad news involving his old team.

- No. Not at all. But I figure that would be nice for the new members to meet the original gang.

- That’s cool, bro. Have you talked with the others yet?

- No, not yet. I’ve been playing with the idea for a while now, so I figure to ask since you were already coming. What do you think?

- That’s a great idea, but you need to check with everyone though.

- I know. I was planning to do it today. Do you think you can stay with Y/N for a while?

- I’m still listening, Dick. And we’re not kids. - You said.

- I know, I know. I’m going now, see you guys later. - He said getting out of the cave.

- Bye! - You and Wally shouted.

He stood there for a minute before going in your direction. He got behind you and put his over your eyes.

- Guess who? - He whispered in your ear making you shiver.

- Ha, Ha, hilarious, Wally. Get off me. - You took his hands off your face.

- It wasn’t what you said last night if I remember well... What did you say? Oh, I remembered now. “Oh, yeah, Wal...” - You turned, putting your hands on his mouth keeping him to mimic you.

- Would you, please, shut the fuck up? This place has cameras, you know? Do you really have a death wish?

- Come on, babe. You know I love you. - He wrapped his arms on your shoulders and rested his chin on the top of your head.

You hugged and kissed him on the corner of his mouth.

- I know, I love you too.

And you did. More than anything. It hurt you couldn’t be with him around your family. You knew that eventually, they would find out or you would have to tell them, but the thought of fighting them about your relationship scared the hell out of you. The whole problem was with your ages. Even if you were eighteen, what you was, Wally was way older than you; he had Dick’s age, and, since little, your family protected you like you were made of glass.

Your father had an affair with your mom before Dick was Robin, and she was a model. When you were six, the police arrested her for being an accomplice of a corrupt Mayer that she was dating and sent you to live with your father. At the time Dick was already thirteen and Robin, but since you were just a baby, you didn’t understand it. Babs was your hero, she spoiled and played with you.

When Jason came, you were twelve and knew about your father’s double life. In the first weeks of his time at the mansion, Jason was quiet and seemed angry all the time, your ages were close so you tried to be his friend, not realizing that a fourteen-year-old boy would rather die than play with dolls. When he died you were fifteen and cried until you couldn’t breathe anymore.

You became sad and angry and wanted to take the joker down yourself and begged to your father to train you to be his next Robin. He said no, not being able to even think about losing you as he did with Jason, so you moved in with Dick for a few months and trained martial arts with him. It was a nice brother-sister bonding moment and gave you the time you need it to calm down and realize you didn’t want to fight crime.

When you came back, you found out that there was a new Robin, Tim Drake. And a new Batgirl, Cassandra Cain. At first, you didn’t know what to think about them. He wasn’t an orphan as Dick or Jason and didn’t live at the mansion with you but he was younger and fun to be around and she was peaceful and quiet so you decided that Jason wouldn’t mind if you took them as siblings. Then Jason came back, and you were extremely confused. All those feeling that came with his death came back with the addition of your anger towards him. How could he not come back for his family? For you?  

When things calmed down, you couldn’t be more happy for having your brother back and cried to sleep holding him. Stephanie was awesome, you finally had a girl around age and could talk about stuff you couldn’t with your brothers. Damian was hard. He knew you were his father biological kid too but didn’t understand why you didn’t want to fight. He more often than not was rude, and you grew very insulted when he treated Alfred poorly. When he moderated his temper, you suspiciously let him enter your heart. And became thrilled about having a baby brother. Duke was happy and cool and you came to care for him too. There were so many of them, so many that you would disappoint for lying and keeping secrets. Not only with you, but Wally was also Dick best friend, and you knew it hurt him as much as did with you. But you loved Wally so much and were not willing to let him go.

- Hey, babe, come back. - Wally kissed your cheek drawing your attention. - What were you thinking?

-About my family. Their reaction when they find us out.

- No wonder you took so long, you guys multiply like bunnies. Don’t worry, babe, we will be fine.

You looked around checking if no one were coming and stand up, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms on your waist pulled you closer.

- So... Kid Flash, what do you think we get out of here?

- I would love to. - He smiled - What do you think about France?

- Wally, you’re not taking me to Paris on my pajamas.- You got closer, your noses touching each other. - I was thinking something closer like… I don’t know... my bedroom? - You smiled giving a little peck on his lips.

Suddenly your legs didn’t touch the ground anymore and Wally was carrying you in bridal style, making you laugh.

- Well, then why you didn’t say earlier?

XXX

You would kill him, he would have to super-speed his ass to the other side of the planet to run from you. You grunted frustrated grabbing your makeup case; the hickey looked like a neon sign on your neck, not even your hair covering. He was dead.

A knock on the door made your soul leave your body for a few seconds.

- Y/N? Are you in there? - Your baby brother asked

- Yes, Damian. I’ll be out in a few, okay?

- Okay, I will wait in the bedroom.

- Shit. - you whispered trying to cover the bruise in a rush. You did the best you could and hoped your hair would help you.

You got out of the bedroom seeing your brother sitting on your bed with his legs crossed.

- How can I help you on this beautiful day, my baby brother? - You said lying down on the bed.

- I’m not a child, Y/N, much less a baby. But you could do something for me, yes.

You pulled him down on the bed as well and turned to face him, your arm under your head.

- Tell me what.

- Can you ask Grayson to not do the ridiculous reunion on our house? I’ve tried but he won’t listen.

- Why? I’m excited to have the guys over. You’re not?

- No, I’m not looking forward to having a loud and uneducated crowd on our house.

- Oh, come on, Damian. You can’t be serious. - You faced the ceiling. - Think like this; In a few years, the people coming will be your old team. Would you like someone to stop you?

Damian stopped to think for a few moments and got up.

- Well then, I suppose there’s nothing for me to do. Do you want to join me for breakfast?

- I would love, Damian. Just give me a moment to get ready, okay? Go ahead, I’ll catch you in a few secs.

You watched him get out and close the door before running back to the bathroom, to perfect the foundation on your neck.

XXX

By the time you made to the kitchen, Damian was throwing blueberries on Tim’s hair who was too busy staring at his coffee to notice anything.

You hugged him and took the little fruits from his hair getting a nasty look from Damian.

- Hey, Tim. Why are you up so early? Did you came from Steph’s or spend the night at the cave?

-... huh? Oh, Cave.

You glanced at the bags under his eyes and shook your head.

- You know... You won’t be able to stay awake at the YJ reunion if you don’t sleep, right? Why don’t you give this... - You took away his mug- And go upstairs?

- I will, I’m just waiting for something to be ready down at the cave, and I’m going to bed. - Tim tried to reach for his mug back while you took out of his grasp.

- What is so important that’s keeping you awake?  

- I’m doing a backup of the camera recordings at the Batcave so I can have more space in the HD. - Tim rested his head at the table.

- Why you’re doing it? Is something wrong, Drake? - Damian searched for the cereal on the kitchen cabinet.

- Not really, but since Dick’s is throwing a party, I wanted to make sure nothing goes off my eye.

- That’s mean, Timbo. I know we are offensively rich, but no one will rob us. - You teased him. - And since when we’re calling it a “party”?

Tim straightened his back.

- I didn’t mean like that! I was talking about not letting us vulnerable to attacks! I... I didn’t...

- Relax, Timbo. I’m mocking you.

- You’re awful, Y/N, I’m too tired for this. And we both know it’s not really a “reunion”. - He got up and search for the milk in the fridge. - Also, I want to see if the new program I installed last week works.

- What does it do? - You asked taking a sip from his intact coffee.

- It shows the persons that visited the Mansion or the Batcave, but just Wally came so there’s not really too much to see. Did you drink my coffee? -Tim narrowed his eyes.

- ... No? - You stopped to think about what he had said before the question, choking a little - W-wait, You will analyze the records from while Wally was here? Like all of them?! - The scenes of you and Wally making out around the house while you were alone passing through your eyes, the panic making your voice higher.

- ... Yeah? Are you okay? - He asked skeptically.

- You know, Tim. You’re looking so tired, are you sure you have to do this right now? Why don’t you go to sleep? I call you when it’s ready, how about that?

- Yeah, Drake, you’re looking like a zombie.

Tim took his eyes from you and stared at Damian.

- Looks who’s talking, the real zombie.

- Well, at least I’m not a... - You turned their discussion off, trying to figure out what to do. Grabbing your phone from your back pocket, you text Stephanie.

“Hey, Steph. I need a favor.”

Her reply didn’t take long to show.

“Sup, what can I do 4 you?"

“I need you to take Tim out of the Manor. Can’t tell u why.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, just do it, please?”

It didn’t take long until Tim’s phone rang.

- Hey, cutie. You’re... what? - Tim looked around his face growing red. - Uhum... Yep... I’m coming. Bye.

You looked at him questionably.

- I have to go. - Was all he said before leaving.

- That was weird, wasn’t it?

You looked at your little brother doing your best innocent face.

- Completely. - You got up and ran to your bedroom.

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