Stones and Glass Houses (Book 2)

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/33665731.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Categories: F/F, F/M
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types,
Marvel (Comics), DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Relationships: Damian Wayne/Original Female Character(s), Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne,
Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Jon Lane Kent/ Yelena Belova, Stephanie
Brown/Tim Drake, Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Steve Rogers/Natasha
Romanov, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Characters: Avengers Team, Batfamily Members, Damian Wayne, Jon Lane Kent,
Yelena Belova, Michelle Jones, Peter Parker, Harry Osborn, Ned Leeds,
Original Female Character(s), Harley Keener, Various MCU Characters,
Justice League (DCU)
Additional Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Crossover, a little bit of
hurt/comfort, Violence, Blood and Injury, slight deviations from canon
but its mostly accurate, Feels, Found Family, Action/Adventure, Slow
Burn, Domestic Batfamily (DCU), Crime Fighting, a serious attempt at
making fanfic cliches better, more adoptions, Attempt at Humor, Family
enemies, Wayne vs Stark, Damian Wayne is better at feelings, Parent
Tony Stark, Idiots in Love, Jon Kent is the sweetest, Alfred Pennyworth
is the Best, Goliath my beloved, again too much research was done for
this fanfic but its worth it, REALLY LONG CHAPTERS, Domestic
Avengers, Dating in Secret, family meddling increases, friends become
team of heroes at last, Yelena Belova is a Stark, Harry Osborn learns the
ways of espionage, teen assassins learn domestic habits, secrets come out
slowly in the most amusing way, Cassie Lang treats Stark and Wayne
teens as her parents, high school shenanigans, bruce and tony have to
switch kids for internships, chaotic Jason Todd is our king, Bruce Wayne
is a Good Parent, Talia al Ghul meddles, there is no school event without
chaos, Good Sibling Damian Wayne, Wayne Stark and Osborn
supremacy, everyone knows yet no one knows they know what they
aren't supposed to know, Jason Todd bonding, Jealousy, endless chaos
Language: English
Series: Part 2 of Avengers Dynasty Series
Stats: Published: 2021-09-04 Updated: 2023-08-23 Words: 444,052 Chapters:
51/?
 Stones and Glass Houses (Book 2)
by Atheria

Summary

One the Princess of the lively and cheery New York, the other, the Prince of the dark and
desolate Gotham.

It was no secret that they HATED one another, all the students had learned to look away from
the two teens when they were forced to be near. Some would claim their glares towards one
another could freeze an entire room, while others bargained the heat of their arguments could
set the school on fire.

Since coming back from break, they had also learned that not only did the Stark and Wayne
hate each other more than anything, but that they hated one another so much that it was
almost like they were the only ones allowed to do so.

Anyone who approached the Stark with whatever bravery they possessed in order to ask her
out would find themselves facing the terrifying glares of the Wayne, who despised them
ardently for even thinking of liking someone like his enemy. In similar fashion, when girls
trailed after Damian like his own personal shadows, the Stark would dismiss them away from
him, 'saving' them from making a mistake with her greatest enemy as if such an experience
should be unthinkable.

Such rivalry and famed hatred did not stop there...

 The New Class [Part 1]
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
 Part 1: Spider & Demon

"There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without
emotion, even by the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests, there are matters
of which no jest can be made"

-Edgar Allan Poe

Brooklyn POV-

The winter break held a lot of firsts.

Brooklyn had been able to have her first Christmas and New Years with her family. She'd
been able to go to Xavier's school every weekend to try and get past her fears of the fire
within her as well.

All of those things were hard to process at first.

It was difficult to control the fire, took days just to summon flames in hand without
something unsavory happening. With her anchor in mind, Brooklyn was actually able to
progress to actually shooting very small projectiles, but she couldn't actually put the fire out
once she did.

It was progress, Xavier had promised.

In some ways, Brook knew it was, and she was happy with what she'd accomplished by the
end of the break. Her main success had been keeping the flames at bay without the vibranium
restraints, which meant she was no longer freezing every second of every day.

The warmth was a welcome comfort, as was the time spent with her family.

The only down side to all that, was that thanks to all that had happened with the Red Room
and Ivan, Brook's family was keeping a close eye on her.

It made it almost impossible to text Damian, more so to talk to him at night. Since Harley had
nightmares of her getting taken away, Brook had relented to let the kid move in a small bed to
her room at the compound, which meant she couldn't once reach for her walkie-talkie.

The times she WAS free, Damian was surrounded by family and thus unable to talk.
In fact, the only conversation that managed to keep Brooklyn at peace was that text she sent
shortly after her return to the compound, the one Damian replied to quite quickly much to her
relief.

She'd texted, swallowing her fears and insecurities, I don't regret what happened, I hope you
don't either.

Her fears of Damian having kissed her and confessing emotions out of pity had vanished
when he'd replied, Neither do I, beloved.

So now that was a new first too...

Today was the first day back to school, and Brooklyn was currently on her way there with
Agent Claire behind the wheel. Harley, Yelena, Peter, and Brook in the back seats like
obedient children.

Poor Happy had been tasked with taking Brook's stuff back to her apparent, though he hadn't
complained so much about going to Queens this time. That was already an odd way to start
the day. Not that she lingered on that particular oddity much, not when there were more
pressing things in mind.

Was Brook nervous to see Damian today? Yes.

Those texts had been sent weeks ago, the Wayne could've changed his mind by now about
how he felt..even when she hadn't.

At least she had the small comfort of knowing Yelena was also nervous about today. Unlike
Brook and Damian that had been confined for their safety, Yelena and Jon had been free to
hang out with the others.

If what Ned said was true, then those two were starting to hold hands way more often on
purpose, holding more conversations, and Ned had even sworn Yelena had smiled at Jon
once.

Still, their arrival to school came by much sooner than Brook had expected. She was already
fussing with her brown coat, winding her fingers through the seams of the pearl-colored
sweater underneath.

For the third time today, Brooklyn fished out a small mirror to check if her red lipstick was in
place, something she'd begun wearing again now that she felt more like her old self. It was
like slipping back into comfortable clothes or returning to a familiar place.

Once they parked in an already elated Midtown High, the Stark had only hesitated for a few
seconds before making it out to the snow filled parking lot.

Brooklyn watched as Harley happily exited the car with a wave thrown their way before he
ran towards his friends on the other side of the parking lot. He'd already hugged her plenty
before leaving the compound, saying he wanted to get his goodbyes out of the way there so
his friends wouldn't see. She wasn't sure if that was an insult or not....
Agent Claire was the next one to exit the car, leaving the three teens to take one last breath of
reassurance with the threat to text her if something went wrong. Just because keeping Harley
safe was her main priority did not mean she wouldn't be keeping an eye on them apparently.

Brook looked up a the looming building already full of life and laughter.

This was a new semester. So many things had changed so far and would likely continue to do
so, but at least she had a team to rely on. Unlike the first time Brooklyn walked through
Midtown's doors, this time, she would not go in alone.

She had friends, a team, someone she cared for and missed terribly.

Brook was a Stark now, with that came a brother who promised to be there if she needed him.
If at any time of the day her powers began to act out, agent Claire was set to take her home
with Harley ready to make a family excuse.

Now she had back up...she really wasn't alone, no matter what the future would bring.

With an exchange of smiles between the three, the teens left the car and made they way inside
the halls they had all missed.

The first order of business when walking in was getting new schedules. From what Peter
mentioned, there weren't huge changes to one schedule most of the time, but their
engineering course would switch out for some state required course.

Making their way to a table at the school entrance, the three were greeted by an unknown
teacher who handed over their new schedules and let them inside the warm space full of
familiar mint green lockers, packed halls, and by Peter's locker...the rest of her friends.

Brooklyn couldn't help but stand there in the middle of the entrance, glad to see everyone was
fine, but also that she was able to be here in the first place. Weeks ago, the Stark thought she
was going to die at the hands of Ivan, that a day like this would be impossible.

Yet here she was.

Amongst Tanya and Harry trying to snatch the others schedules, of MJ already leaning
against the lockers with her nose in a book, and of Ned and Jon exchanging comic
books...Brooklyn's eyes lingered on one person.

As always, he was dressed for the cold, in one of his surprisingly soft black turtle necks,
pressed pants and glossy black dress shoes. He was scowling at Jon's excitement, but when
he looked forward past the moving crowds, Brook and Damian's gazes met between the sea
of bodies.

Once those familiar green eyes met her own after weeks of being separated, after escaping
death and facing their pasts head on...that familiar comfort and peace she now understood as
enamored emotions rose up within her.

Unlike the feeling of her flames rising from her body out of control, this feeling felt more like
a soothing blanket. Brook had to chide herself mentally, she and Damian had yet to speak and
come up with an agreement to sort of all that had happened that day at the Bermuda Triangle.
Not only that, but they still had to be enemies in the eyes of the school masses, and seeing as
though all eyes were on the Stark and her company, she had to make a better job of faking
hatred rather than relief..

The crowds smiled at Brook as she passed, some of Peter's band mates sent a few greeting
this way as well, and most knew by now that Yelena was rather...reserved, and the only
people she'd talk to would be those in her friend group.

Fighting the urge to go hug her best friend, glad to see he was fine after weeks away,
Brooklyn went thought greeting her friends.

Out of all of them, Harry and Peter were the only ones the Stark had been able to interact
with during the break. Peter when he came to the compound, and Harry when his father was
invited for updates on the Joker.

The group was smiling and hugging one another as if they hadn't seen one another in years,
which it had felt like actually. Damian and MJ were the exceptions to those hugging sprees,
but Brooklyn noticed the way the Wayne averted his gaze when Peter brought Brooklyn and
Ned int a crushing embrace.

It had taken Brook being locked and restrained to realize Damian had left the school party
before break because he'd been upset about Peter asking her out. The concept of someone like
Damian being jealous was...odd.

What did he have to be jealous of?

Then again, during the break Brooklyn realized she'd had her fair share of such an emotion. It
was that discontentment that had plagued Brook when girls ogled him in the streets, when
he'd come to the Yule dance with Raven, and during the football game when a certain
cheerleader (who was still looking at Damian longingly down the hall) had expressed her
affection so openly.

It was silly, to own such an emotion when they were both trained ex-assassins, yet it was
there.

Her amusement was only paused when everyone gathered in a circle, holding out their folded
schedules like they were present a new law. At Harry's order, the group of heroes and
civilians unfolded their papers, finding their schedules HAD stayed relatively the same,
maybe some sifting of class times but same teachers as before...except for engineering.

Instead of spending the rest of the school year learning how to work circuits, doing math, and
making robots....they'd all be spending it in a class called Early Childhood Education.

Considering Brook had no childhood of any kind, she was getting nervous.

"What does that even mean? Isn't it too late to learn the alphabet and numbers?" Jon asked,
looking beside him to make sure Yelena had the same class.
Harry looked at Jon, Yelena, Brook, and Damian with a knowing smirk, eyeing their raised
brows with an amusement Brook could not decipher.

"Of course your old schools didn't have this" the Osborn said, pushing back his luscious
brown hair as he added, "This is the reason junior year is so challenging! We'll be getting less
homework and tests from now on, but it will come at a heavy price, one I've been looking
forward to since freshman year!"

Less work...at a price?

MJ chuckled as she scanned everyone's paper, "Never mind that, someone is getting fired
when the principal realizes we are all in the same class"

Sure enough, they all had the new class at the same time during the day, all being taught
by...by their P.E. teacher/ football coach.

Yeah, clearly someone hadn't realized they put a Wayne, Stark, and Osborn in one room.

That was sure to be interesting right?

As Damian moved to check her schedule by her side, looking cold and indifferent, she could
tell he wanted to talk just as badly as she did, he just couldn't do it now when all eyes were on
them.

Luckily Brooklyn didn't have to wait till her fifth class of the day to talk to a certain Wayne.

They were both being watched closely during History, as if the students had missed them and
couldn't quite believe they were back. Then again, it might be the fact that Brook had done
many public appearances for Stark industries during the break, and they had brought some
very unfortunate attention from the masses.

At least now with Ivan locked up, Brooklyn's list of threats watching her interviews was not
as severe in her eyes.

Because of all that unwanted attention during class though, Brook was forced to sit through
class only able to try to sort through her emotions in silence, trying to figure out what she
would say to the best friend seated beside her when the time came.

There was a part for Brooklyn that had been dying to talk to Damian all these weeks apart.
That same part of her wanted nothing more than to repeat all she'd said back at that cell, if
only for him to know with absolute certainty of what she felt, the feelings she'd been so slow
to figure out.

The other part of Brook was terrified, even when she knew he did not regret what happened.
Feelings were new to both of them, and it was clear they'd never felt this way before for
someone.

All she knew for sure was that if Damian wanted to sweep this under the rug for the sake of
their families and quite frankly, their safety, then Brooklyn would at least be grateful they
could still be best friends.
When P.E. came about, the Stark got her chance at that privacy she'd been looking forward to
and dreading.

As always, their teacher Mr. Wilson was still as enthusiastic and energetic as always. He'd
taken one look at all the students sitting expectantly on the bleachers, sighed, and ordered
them to run around the school field, through the running trails around the school property.
That meant running in the cold outdoors surrounded by the forest around them.

Beside Brooklyn, Peter and Ned were already groaning in annoyance. See, Ned was scared of
that heavy foliage of the pine trees, something about it being easier to be killed or mugged
that way. Never mind that he was helping a bunch of amateurs to fight crime with no fear
whatsoever.

Either way, it would be Peter's infinite patience that would get Ned through that run. As for
MJ, she was already immersed in a new book, and when Brooklyn asked, the curly haired girl
said she would rather not run. Michelle was more than willing to walk the whole way.

One secret glance at Damian across the bleachers, and once the whistle from the teacher
blew, she and the Wayne sprinted out the gym. It seemed like a good risk to take, since most
students would think the two rivals were just competing once again.

Only they were not fighting in the least.

As soon as they got far enough into the foliage covered trail, they eased into a pleasant
running speed down the gravel path. It wasn't until they ran past that spot where they'd once
fought one another what seemed like ages ago that Brooklyn knew she couldn't keep the
silence going any longer.

She'd rehearsed her lines in the mirror for days, knew what she wanted to express...but all
practiced words left her brain then, as if they too were weary of the results and had chosen to
flee instead with the cold wind.

Brook was left with Damian's eyes on her as she struggled to find her voice, moving her lips
without any sound.

It was silly really...Brooklyn and Damian had ALWAYS been able to speak honestly to one
another, even when they were trying to beat each other to a pulp in the spot they just ran by.

Perhaps it was the memory of how far they'd come that finally eased Brooklyn's mind, at
least enough to say, "So...that all happened back at the Bermuda Triangle. I'm still mad at you
for sacrificing yourself though"

Damian hummed in agreement, keeping his gaze on the passing trees, only a few naked
without their spring foliage.

"I did what I had to, what was right. As for the other thing that happened...I assume we both
meant our words and actions that night" he added slowly, as if for the first time in his life,
Damian Wayne was nervous.
That in itself spoke volumes of how honest his own feelings were. It made Brooklyn relax a
little, a small smile adorning her features at last.

The two locked eyes then, and Brook was lucky enough to witness one of Damian's rare
smiles, those unrestrained ones that showed his dimples, even when it looked like his facial
muscles were still getting used to such an action.

Despite the January cold, the remainders of last night's snow on the ground around them, a
wave of warmth and contentment rushed through the Stark's body. It was then, in that running
path, in a day like any other...that Brooklyn realized with absolute certainty that all the
feelings she felt towards the Wayne...he felt as well.

"If we're caught being best friends, our families would do everything in their power to break
us apart" Brook pointed out somberly, though she couldn't help the hint of amusement by her
words at the fact that they'd kept the secret this long successfully.

Damian seemed to catch that bit of amusement, because even though his words were equally
as somber, he smirked as he replied, "If we get caught being something more, they might just
murder us, or disown us"

Something more....

"Do you want to be something more? Knowing the risks and complications?" she dared ask,
tugging at the sleeves of her Midtown hoodie that only succeeded in keeping some of the
cold at bay.

Damian seemed to be considering. Not only would they be going against their families, but
by being something more, it would change everything for them.

It was scary, confusing, but somehow...Brooklyn knew it was a risk worth taking.

"I read that it is tradition for a man to ask a woman into a period of courting called dating"
Damian explained as if he were talking about a math problem, "Dating consists of monogamy
between two individuals. I'm not used to trusting or being so open with my emotions, but this
seems like the kind of commitment and experience I'd only want to figure out with you"

Brooklyn chuckled.

"Yes, I gathered the same thing" she said, then added a little more wearily, "I know our lives
are not exactly...normal, dating probably won't even be the same for us as is common
practice"

Damian nodded.

Then in a move that shocked Brooklyn, he grabbed a hold of her hand, guiding her away
from the path and further into the dense forest area beside them. Before the Stark could
question what was happening, Damian released her arm, taking a second to close his eyes
before moving to stand before her in that quiet and private clearing.
Brook's eyes went wide when Damian looked down at her with purpose, holding her hands
within his own in such a delicate manner she couldn't help but relax.

He was breathing heavily as one of those hands reached into the pocket of his own blue
Midtown sweater.

When Brooklyn looked down at his hand, she beheld the familiar golden chain with the
Brooklyn Bridge at its center.

"You kept it" she whispered, not in surprise, but in awe.

Brook had given it to Damian back when she was still on the path of sure demise. The Stark
had no clue how to say goodbye to someone who meant so much to her, so she'd given him a
piece of herself to remember her by.

During these past few weeks, Brook had not forgotten it, but had not regretted giving it away.

Now, as Damian gently placed it around her neck, the cold bite of the metal meeting her skin,
it felt like she was finally whole again.

"You once gave me this as a farewell" Damian whispered, proceeding to lift her gaze by
cupping her cheek, "Today, I present this to you as the opposite. I don't want to say goodbye
to you, not now or in the uncertain future. I know I'm supposed to bring flowers and
chocolates, spout poetry to ask you to be my partner...but I wouldn't be honest with you if I
did those things. That's not who I am"

Brooklyn nodded, also agreeing that seeing Damian go out of his way to be unnecessarily
romantic would not be an honest way of showing emotions, at least between them.

"Instead of doing all that, "Damian said, "I decided to be honest with you as we always have
been. I know its not a grand gesture, but I know you'll understand my sincerity when I say
that I have grown incredibly fond of you. We were always supposed to hate one another, to
stand on opposite sides. I can't help but be glad that did not end up happening"

Brook placed a hand atop the one against her cheek, smoothing circles on Damian's cold
palm with her thumb, urging him to get all his thoughts out without pressure.

"You are infuriatingly competitive, skilled enough to have once made want to destroy
you...but you are also iridescent when you sing in the mornings, a force to be reckoned with
in battle. Your laughter clears my irritations, your red lipped smiles a sight that won't stray
from my mind. You and I have been though much together, always coming out victorious not
just because we are an efficient team...but because we know one another the way no one else
does. I don't like to talk much, I find it unnecessary to be chatty, but just this once....I had to
say all that. And if you don't feel the same way, then you're probably making the right
decision considering who I am-"

Brooklyn's own breathing was faltering by that point as she cut him off, leaning her forehead
against his own. She couldn't help but realize that, yes, it would all get much harder from
now on and nothing from their being together would be easy...it would be the most selfish
thing she'd ever yearned for...but with Damian by her side, they'd get through it just fine.

"Maybe us being together won't be very traditional, so maybe dating is the wrong term for us.
Maybe we're just...something more now" she replied.

They'd figure out day by day what something more meant to them, what they wanted it to be.
They'd work with the time and secrecy they could have, and instead of shifting to having a
completely different relationship, they'd instead build atop their friendship, let their emotions
blossom as they will.

That sounded much better than having something everyone else had.

They'd be Brooklyn and Damian.

Seeming to understand her train of thought, Damian nodded in agreement and did not flinch
or move away as she kissed his nose in promise to the beginning of their something more.

Turned out, their something more was about the get a whole lot more interesting...

Brooklyn and her friends were currently making their way inside their new class, choosing to
sit in the back tables of the room per Harry's request. No one complained.

Once they saw the coach would be the one teaching this class, they knew it would not matter
where they sat, so they moved to the back excitedly. Only Ned and Brooklyn seemed to
mourn the absence of Engineering class, replaced by whatever this new curriculum was.

By what Brook gathered, this was a course meant for third years, one everyone would take.
Unfortunately, that meant kids like Flash and all those cheerleaders that fawned over Damian
were also in this room. They were already waving frantically at him.

Great...the universe was already testing her.

It took Brook a second to remember that those girls had no clue she and Damian were
together, a thought that might have spared their lives (she wouldn't have killed them of
course, but still).

The group honed in on the right corner of the room by the windows outlooking the school
football field. No one bothered to step in to claim a spot there soon after.

Ned and Peter were the first to take a seat in one of the partner desks, followed by Tanya and
MJ beside them, Brook and Yelena claimed the desk behind the boys at the end of the room,
and Jon and Damian in the one to the left of the Stark.

Brook and Yelena had never shared a class before, and after all the bonding they'd been able
to do during the break, dancing and training with Nat, Brooklyn did not mind her partner at
all. In fact, if this class truly was about something normal children learned, they might be
able to suffer together.
Harry had forgone caring about a desk being meant for two students, he merely dragged a
chair from a lone table and placed himself between Ned and Peter, both of which did not
seem the least surprised by the action.

As more and more students piled in, Brooklyn found her mind straying from Tanya's
conversation about a new store at the mall, thinking back to the fact that she and Damian
were now a secret item.

They'd had all but five minutes alone before the heard people catching up on the trail. Brook
had to fight a smile when everyone arrived at the end, though Peter had question her change
in mood, no one suspected a thing so far.

When she turned to her left, Brook noticed Damian was equally as focused on his
conversation with Jon. The hidden kindness in his gaze was enough for her to know Dami
was just as pleased by the sorting of their emotions.

Ivan had always said that affection was a poison, something that made one weak. It was with
great satisfaction that Brooklyn could think with absolute certainty that he'd been very wrong.

She and Damian were stronger together, they could tackle anything that came their way....or
so she thought.

When the bell rang and the class quieted, Mr. Wilson stepped forward, clutching a cup of
coffee in hand as he eyed the sea of students with disinterest. Still clad in his tracksuit, he
looked out of place in a classroom.

"Welcome to Early Childhood Education, a class you will all need to pass if you hope to
graduate. This course will be simple, you do you work well, I grade you well. If you fail to
do things as they are instructed, you will fail. Understood?"

Brooklyn was still stuck at whatever Early Childhood Education meant. Considering she'd
hadn't HAD a normal education growing up, she was already nervous, especially with the
dozens of mysterious cardboard boxes behind the teacher.

This would clearly not be a class full of reading or mathematics. That was easy, that Brook
could deal with. Looking around the room in the third floor, the place looked more like an
on-hands kind of methodology.

Beside Brook, Yelena was already groaning in distaste at the pastels themes around the room,
specially the posters about patience and love.

"Fury never said we had to pass high school to become SHIELD agents" Yelena whispered in
Russian, "I can just walk out of whatever this is right?"

The Stark tried to hide her amused smile, but forced herself to whisper back in their mother
tongue, "You must stay, education is important"

The blonde chuckled as the teacher went back to write something on the blackboard.
Pushing back her black hooded sweater, Yelena replied, "There isn't anything this school can
teach me that I haven't learned already"

Turned out, seconds later, she was proven wrong.

Up on the blackboard, the teacher had written in large letters.

RealCare Baby Dolls.

Dolls? Like the plastic humans Cassie loved playing with so much? What kind of educational
trash was this?

Upon seeing Brook's and Yelena's clear confusion, Tanya turned back to face the girls,
shooting them an amused smirk as if she knew something they didn't.

Beside her, Brooklyn turned to Damian with a confused frown, one which he and Jon both
reciprocated. Their perplexity was resolved when Mr. Wilson lazily sat on the desk before the
whiteboard, using a small laser to point at students' chests.

"The whole reason for these Childhood Education classes exist are not for my or the state's
amusement. Statistics show that once you kids leave this school, a good chunk of you will
rush to get married, have kids, live the adult life you all think you're ready for. So before you
even think of doing that, it's that time of year to prove you upper class-men wrong" Mr.
Wilson said, voice deep and bored as he motioned to the classroom around them.

Brooklyn was momentarily speechless.

So this class was meant to teach them about adulthood?

Yelena tapped Brook's shoulder with a panic, because despite all the education they'd had in
the Red Room, they had not learned anything to do with living normal adult lives.

For once, school looked like it might best them after all.

To further the Stark's horror, Mr. Wilson reached behind his desk, as he explained, "While the
fourth years are stuck leaning how to cook, create budgets, and learning about taxes, you
third years will get the absolute pleasure of having your own child for a couple of weeks. I'm
sure most of you saw the results of last years juniors"

Brooklyn's eyes went wide at the almost realistic baby in the coach's arms, wrapped in a
fluffy blue blanket...making baby noises.

The class erupted into groans and fake tears like they already knew this was coming. Even
Flash looked like he might bolt out of the class.

What kind of punishment was this?!Taking care of a BABY!?

Brooklyn was busy trying to bring down all of assassin society, fighting a murderous clown
AND the alien weapons that could reduce a city to ashes, all while trying to control space
abilities of her own...and coach wanted her to take care of a fucking baby!
Also...what did he mean by last years juniors....

MJ chuckled from her seat and shouted," Yeah, I saw a sleep deprived student throw their
baby against the lockers once last year, that was hilarious"

Some in the class laughed in recognition, but most were busy bidding their social lives
goodbye, others debating the merits of switching schools.

Tanya turned back then to face Brooklyn briefly, if only to wink at her in amusement.

Brook could've been warned about this, such a task was clearly famous across school, Tanya
just loved to see Brooklyn suffer...

To further her annoyance, Mr. Wilson quieted down the complaints in class by adding;

"Only seventy percent of students get a passing grade" he warned, "If you don't have proper
teamwork or a willingness to share responsibilities, then you will fail this assignment and not
pass the class. As a further warning, any of my football players who fail this and are unable
to go to state as a result will suffer...the other coach's wrath"

Harry and Jon let their heads fall on the desk, and it looked like they were actually crying in
misery already. Mr. Wilson was a chill guy, but the other coach was a force of nature.

As for Brook's own worry, it only heightened by a simple word Mr. Wilson had said.

Teamwork.

Yelena caught it too, proceeding to kick MJ's chair, and when the brunette turned around the
blonde asked, "What does he mean by teamwork, MJ?"

MJ smiled faintly, putting down her book as she replied quickly, "You'll see"

Mr. Wilson noticed many students had engaged in conversation, and from what Brook could
tell, it was about pairing up with one another, the only thing they seemed happy about in this
situation.

Such joy was halted when the coach added, "Before you all get excited, as part of the
assignment the partners are chosen at random" then he held up two jars with his free hand,
"Guy-Girl numbers are uneven in this class, so some of you might have to compromise"

Groans filled the space, and the sudden dread of being paired up with a stranger for weeks to
take care of a doll really made Brook wonder why she'd been excited to come back to school
in the first place.

Five rows ahead of them, Flash winked back at Brook, whispering not so subtly, "Hopefully
you and I will be partners, right beautiful?"

On the table beside her, Brook noticed the barely visible movement of Damian flexing his
fist, yet the probable fight was avoided as the shaking of the two jars commenced.
Though it was such a simple and harmless action, even the three ex-assassins were leaning
forward on their desks as the teacher picked out a small paper from each jar. Harry actually
managed to squeal in fear as the papers were unfolded, and the names of two classmates were
called.

Brooklyn had never engaged in conversation with those so called Amber and Justin, but they
looked absolutely miserable as the teacher forced them to switch seats to a new table.

Well...there went their chance to sit together...

Sure enough, everyone was forced to stand on the side of the classroom until their name was
called, and then they could choose a desk with their new parter once a bald plastic baby was
handed over to them.

Now Brooklyn was just hoping Yelena would not kill her new seating partner.

As the pairs were called out, the students were forced to accept their fate as new 'parents'.
Others, like some of the class clowns, had taken to receiving their babies with enthusiasm,
displaying them up in the air like Lion King.

Brook stood beside her friends through it all, glaring at the jar with the girls names. Never in
her life did Brooklyn consider an old candy jar would hold her fate in its hold....it was
unfathomable how silly that sounded.

Beside her, Yelena and Tanya were keeping close, whispering prayers that they wouldn't get
picked with someone like Flash.

Then one of their names was called, "Miss Yelena Belova, you will be paired with...."

Yelena was clutching Brook's arm in a painful grip that Brook couldn't really feel thanks to
the anticipation.

The jar of male names pulled up a piece of paper like all others, slowly being unfolded as the
coach read, "You will be paired with Mr. Jonathan Kent"

The room was quiet save for the faint whispers of the already established partners, but as
soon as the teacher finished that sentence, Jon jumped around in his spot standing next to
Damian, letting his backpack fall to the ground as he whooped and cheered to himself.

Yelena did her best not to show her body relax, but Brooklyn had spent enough time with her
during the break to tell that the teen was actually glad by the choice. She and Jon had kept in
contact during the vacation. Yelena had even received a Christmas sweater from the Kents
because of their growing friendship.

Could it be that her sestra had actually been hoping to get paired with Jon?

The thought brought a smile to the Stark's face as Jon and Yelena picked up their baby...or
more like Jon was the one who gleefully accepted the robot wrapped in a blue blanket before
the two made their way to the back of the room, towards the table where Brook and Yelena
had once been sitting at.
Brook didn't even have time to shoot her 'cousin' a playful smirk before the sounds of rustling
from the female jar began once more.

To her horror, Brooklyn's name was called this time.

That quickly, the remaining guys in the room seemed to come alive, ditching their
nervousness as the glared wholes at the other jar, some like Flash keeping their hopeful gazes
on Brooklyn.

Great.

One look at Damian, and she noticed he was already glaring at the hopeful teens.

Mr. Wilson's passive and bored expression changed as soon as he beheld the name before
him..dare Brook say...he looked scared.

With a shaky voice, the man announced, "Brooklyn, it seems you will be paired with Mr.
Damian Wayne"

The class erupted into chaos, those with chairs near the two teens quickly shuffled away as if
they expected a fight to break out between the two enemies.

Brooklyn was just trying not to show how profoundly relieved she was.

Brook tried to look indifferent, if not a little bothered as she walked over to the front of the
class, the heels of her boots clicking as she passed by the rows of tables with Damian by her
side.

It seemed Mr. Wilson was expecting some sort of fight or argument to arise, because when he
handed over the robot baby, he looked as if he might toss it to Brook in order to avoid an
argument.

Perhaps that fear was acceptable. The coach had been one of the few teachers to witness the
old Stark/Wayne rivalry when it was at its strongest. He beheld Brook and Damian try to kill
one another with a mere volleyball, push each other off the rock climbing wall, try and
behead one another with soccer balls, and attempt to break the other's kneecaps in dodgeball.

Poor man had no clue such days were long behind the teens, that Brooklyn and Damian were
far from enemies at this point. Still, their cover was important, which is why the Stark made a
show of glaring at the Wayne as they moved to sit at the table beside Yelena's.

She and Damian couldn't help but be silently glad at being paired up, that much was certain.
The discontent came when they beheld the realistic looking baby on the table before them.

It had its eyes closed, swaddled in a pink blanket.

This was supposed to be 'their baby'.

"We were just trying to figure out if we could have a relationship and now we're parents"
Brooklyn whispered in assassin code, trying to joke about their situation by adding "just like
how we kissed before we thought of becoming something more than best friends"

Damian was examining the child, opening one of its eyes only to witness green orbs almost
like his own, if not darker.

"It seems we do things out of order constantly," Damian mused, glancing back at Brooklyn as
more pairs were being called out,"besides, it's just a baby robot, it's not like we're having an
actual infant right?"

The purpose of the assignment was to see what it would be like to be parents, so maybe it
was like they ACTUALLY had a kid. The thought was both frightening and intriguing.

"You forget I have a robot brother" Brook whispered back, "As far as I'm concerned, robot
doesn't exactly mean not alive anymore"

To Brook's relief, a shy Peter and indifferent MJ were paired shortly after, joining the group
in their corner of the room. Not long after that, when Harry and Tanya were paired up despite
their discontentment, the group of friends were able to tease the two about it as they banged
their heads on the table's surface.

No one was more unfortunate than poor Ned though.

Ned's name was not called until the last girl was paired up, and because of the previously
stated shortage, he was to share a kid with none other than Flash. Brooklyn mourned for Ned,
but she couldn't help but smile at Flash's misery as he walked up to pick up his kid with a
string of unanswered complaints.

When Brook looked to the chair beside her, Damian was smirking victoriously at the sight.

Now that everyone was paired up, Mr. Wilson proceed to use the remainder of class to
explain just how this weeks-long assignment would really work.

It turned out to be much more complicated that Brooklyn had wagered.

He passed around a list to each student, along with a bag of supplies containing anything
from dippers, bottles, clothes...and packets of...food?

"Before you all complain about this getting in the way of your studies like every generation
before you, let me prove you wrong once again. The baby before you like all others will be
shut off during school hours, only turning on during lunch for a quick feeding to ensure
you're not slacking when it comes to teamwork" he announced, proceeding to detail that a
part of the lunch hall would be utilized as a 'daycare' of sorts where each child would be
dropped off in the mornings and picked up after school.

Perhaps just to make this all feel more real, Mr. Wilson then gave them a few minutes to
decide on a name to catalog into the computer before him.

Brooklyn stared down at the robot child, trying not to laugh and groan in annoyance at the
same time. Damian wasn't doing much better. where everyone else was excitedly suggesting
names, he was just staring at the baby like it had offended him.
Dami hated babies, toddlers, infants...if it could not take care of itself and was human, he
hated it.

Such behavior was only exempt for one toddler, and that was Cassie.

If it weren't for the threat of not graduating, Damian might've already left this class. Perhaps
that is why he let out a tired sigh, seemingly excepting his fate.

"What would you like to call it, beloved?" he whispered in assassin code, also aware of the
curious gazes looking at the back at the classroom where they sat.

"I don't know" she replied honestly, "Its not like I've ever thought about what to name a kid.
Hell, I had to name myself once upon a time. Well, Natasha gave me my middle name, but
the rest was all me"

Damian's troubled gaze stopped then, softening as he beheld Brooklyn.

"The robot is female" he pointed out in English, "We could call it Rosa"

Rosa. Brooklyn's middle name.

Somehow, Brook did not mind that idea at all.

When Mr. Wilson called everyone to the board to write down their baby names for the
records, Brooklyn was more than amused by what others had picked out.

Brook and Damian's kid was merely Rosa Wayne, simple, but much to the shock of Yelena
who knew where the name had originated from. If dad ever heard Brook had a child with the
last name Wayne, he'd likely go ballistic...writing it down in itself felt...weird.

The name beside it was written out by Jon, which he sloppily scribbled in large and messy
handwriting;

Seyg Kent

Brooklyn raised her brow at Jon in inquiry, to which he whispered proudly, "What!? It's a
kryptonian name! Seyg-El was my great grandfather"

When the Stark looked back at where Yelena was sitting, the blonde seemed more displeased
with the baby boy on the table than with the name itself.

As always, Jon was incredibly subtle.

He was lucky no one really knew a thing about kryptonians, and when Harry walked up and
questioned the foreign name, Jon was able to play it off as a Greek name after some
whispered advice from Brooklyn.

As for Harry, he angrily grabbed some chalk and wrote down a name quickly and harshly as
if he wanted to break the board.
Harriet Osborn.

From her place at the back of the class, Tanya stood up yelling, "We are not naming my kid
after you!"

Harry smirked, turning back to shout, "Do you have a better name?!"

The class was silent, waiting for Tanya's brilliant answer as Mr. Wilson eyed the two
exhaustedly from his desk.

Frantically, clearly grasping for straws, Tanya pushed back her brown styled-curls as she
shouted back, "Yes! Something like...Raven!"

Harry made a show of 'throwing up' as he shouted back, "Ew! We're not naming our kid after
your demonic girlfriend! It's supposed to be an object of affection for me!"

While the class was left dumbfounded in trying to figure out what Harry meant by demonic
girlfriend, Brooklyn and the rest of her friends at the board were trying hard not to laugh.
Especially as Tanya mumbled something along the lines of 'at least I have a girlfriend'.

Just like that, the name Harriet stayed on the board and Tanya sulked on her chair.

MJ showed up then, a little flushed, no doubt at being around Peter and holding a discussion
on what to name their kid.

Turns out, they came up with Fannie Parker-Jones.

"Why Fannie?" Harry asked, leaning closer to the board as if it would change the name upon
closer inspection.

MJ wiped the white chalk dust on her cardigan as she explained, "Fannie Lou Hamer was an
activist for women's rights. Plus, I wanted the baby to have both of our last names to fight the
common belief that a child should only hold a male parental record of lineage"

Brooklyn nodded in understanding, leave MJ to name her kid after someone from history. As
for the last name, Brook knew 'having a kid' with the last name Wayne was already all kinds
of weird that could send her dad into cardiac arrest, but having one as Stark-Wayne of
Wayne-Stark....yeah...the world was not ready for that.

As for Ned, he was the last of their group of friends to come up to the board. She'd expected
her and his partner to argue for days over a name, but Flash seemed satisfied as Ned wrote
down Anakin Thompson-Leeds

Seriously...Darth Vader.

Only Peter seemed to consider that a win. Then again there were some sillier names up on
that board like Beyoncé, Garfield, Yogi, and Eminem.

Maybe Mr. Wilson was onto something about teens not being fit to be parents in some
instances.
Once the dozen or so names were up on the board and everyone had gone back to their seats,
Mr. Wilson spent the rest of the class giving detailed instructions that almost made
Brooklyn's heart sink.

Turned out, taking care of a robot was a lot harder than she wagered.

"Don't think this will be an easy task! The baby requires constant attention like a real baby. It
lets me know the exact time and date for when you accomplish all tasks, including feeding,
burping, rocking, diaper changing, missed care, wrong positioning, rough handling, head
support failure, shaken baby, total simulation time, AND total cry time. It even has clothing
sensing so I can know if you dressed the kid for the appropriate weather. If you leave the
baby in a place that is too hot or cold, I will know and dock points off" he warned, "its only
0.5 points per penalty, but they stack up!"

Everyone groaned, and Brooklyn was already frowning at her baby, which looked innocent as
of now until it would inevitably start doing all that was mentioned.

Damian looked as if he might complain, but was cut off when the teacher added, "Any of you
who have a car, you are to come after school to get a car seat, which will also be monitored if
you use correctly or not. And if for some reason you damage your baby beyond repair, you
will pay for it! Lastly, if I get any complaints about a partner slacking off, then that will be
points off for both of you, so work together"

After watching a few videos on how to do simple tasks properly (in which Brook and Damian
made sure to write everything down considering their lack of knowledge on the subject), the
bell rang, and soon the hallways were filled with less than pleased third years dropping off
their babies at the lunch hall.

Fourth year seniors were already laughing in the hallway at the miserable looking juniors as
the day went by. The laughed as if they knew something awful would happen and they were
glad they could witness others suffer.

When word got around of the existence of Rosa Wayne, Brook noticed everyone was looking
at her with amusement, others in pity at what they likely assumed to be a sure failing grade
between the two enemies.

Either way, the glances followed both Brook and Damian around all day.

Even Harley had stopped her in the middle of the hallways between classes just to clarify a
Wayne was her partner for a school project. She'd sworn him to secret from their parents of
course, and watched as her brother promised to help her with anything she needed because
Harley thought she was being forced to work with the devil himself.

In all honestly, Brooklyn was already stressed in some way.

She'd come to school expecting things to be calm after the chaos of being kidnapped weeks
ago. Instead, she was now co-parenting a baby robot with her Dami. Now, she and the others
with secret identities were busy texting one another plans about how they would make this
assignment work without shrugging off their responsibilities as heroes.
So far, the only thing they managed to come up with at their last peaceful lunch hour was
thanks to Peter and his movie reference ideas.

Today's was inspired by yet another Sci Fi movie.

One long explanation later, they just decided to take turns.

At the end of the school day, every third year was dreading picking up their 'kid' for the first
time. Some teachers that thought he/she was being funny even put up a banner in the lunch
hall that said 'Hospital' across it.

Hilarious.

Once the group all had their babies, half almost dropped them when the robot eyelids opened
unexpectedly. Brooklyn certainly almost did.

And so began hell....

Not long after, Brook and Damian were in the jeep, trying to accommodate Roscoe as Rosa
began crying in the Stark's arms.

Even after school, the wails of dozens of babies could be heard like ghosts haunting the
school grounds.

The sight of the two 'enemies' together in the parking lot raised some stares, but as always,
Damian excelled at glowering at anyone who stared too long. At least the baby robot gave
them the unsuspecting excuse to stay close to one another.

Since Damian would take the first turn with Rosa and Brooklyn would take care of patrols,
the two would part ways at the parking lot today...a day that had been far crazier than any day
so far.

She and Damian were something more now, yet here they were, cursing the complex
workings of a baby car seat like it was an intricate chemical equation. Actually, the equation
might've been easier...

To lighten the mood, Brooklyn mused, "We just agreed to be together and now we have a
kid...definitely not what I was expecting when I walked through the school doors"

Damian was leaning into the back seats of Roscoe, clearly still trying to work the straps of
their new contraption, "It shouldn't be a challenge, my beloved. We always excel when we
work together"

Beloved...Brook had definitely grown very fond of that word.

MY beloved was somehow better still.

Before, he used to call Brook that with such aloofness, but now...it seemed as if every time
those words left his lips, he was keenly aware of them, like he meant them more now that
before.
Something more.

Speaking of working together, Brooklyn balanced the baby in one arm and reached past
Damian's body to hold a strap in place for him to properly secure the seat at last. The two
were closer now, almost face to face, smiling smugly at their victory against the car seat.

It seemed working together WAS the way to excel.

Thinking back to his earlier words, Brooklyn couldn't help but chuckle as she leaned against
the side of Roscoe with a now quiet robot in her arms.

"Yes, we do excel in most things. But you don't like kids" she said.

Damian frowned down at the baby in question, but his hard gaze softened when his green
eyes met her own once again. He looked around the parking lot, noting the lack of eyes on
them since the school day started.

He used such private privilege to smirk smugly, proudly stating, "I won't get a lower grade
than someone like Parker, and if that means I have to put up with a crying robot, then I'll do
it"

Peter? His motivation was beating Peter!? Yeah right...

"Are you saying you'll actually try to be a good father?" Brooklyn teased, remembering the
way Mr. Wilson had teased they had all just become parents today.

Damian seemed to find the word odd, maybe even as foreign as an unknown language. Still,
he pushed back that clear confusion to add, "WE will get the highest grade beloved, if that
means I have to be a good...parental figure, then yes you are correct"

"Wow, I'm impressed" Brooklyn said, not at all expecting him to be so open to the idea of
taking care of this robot child. She wouldn't have blamed him for it, they both had things they
were uncomfortable with, and Brook would always respect his boundaries just as he had with
her own.

But if Brook had grown used to being fine with a dog like Titus despite her distaste for such
animals, then maybe this baby and Cassie would one day do the same for Damian's own
distaste for small humans.

"It can't be that hard" Damian replied confidently, "As long as I'm nothing like my own
father, we should get a guaranteed A"

Brooklyn smirked.

"True"

The two watched as the left over third year students exited the school, most of them having
chosen to hang out after school or go spend time at one another's home thanks to this
assignment.
 Unfortunately for Brooklyn and Damian, their situation was not as easy because of the family
feud between them.

If Brook showed up with Damian to his house along with a fake baby, his siblings and
parents would likely kill her. Same could be said for him if her own family found out...so for
the next few days, they'd have to get creative.

That day in the parking lot, the two decided to take turns taking the kid home. It was less than
ideal, but it helped that they could talk via walkie-talkies most nights. And at school, they
took care of baby together.

It wasn't exactly the way Brook had imagined them to bond further after declaring themselves
as a couple of sorts...but at least like always, they faced such difficulties of life as one.

Difficulties that only seemed to increase as the week went along....

Chapter End Notes

Ah! Welcome to book 2!

To start off, I want to state that the new class holds a purpose for the course of the story,
so do the pairings for the assignment, it's not just about romance, but something much
more important to the plot.

When I was writing this story, I always knew that because of their unique circumstances,
Brook and Damian would not have a common relationship, so I always assumed they
wouldn't really take to saying they were 'dating' or that they were 'boyfriend and
girlfriend'. I think they will find ways to make having a relationship very unique to
them.

I hope you are excited to see how that will take part in the future. Enjoy!

(Cover edit by Avendellart and made by Maisy)

 Painstakingly Multitasking Missions

Brooklyn POV-

Brook had once been in an environment where she had to train day and night, she'd been
subjected to such exhausting torture that the Stark was sure nothing else would come close to
that feeling of the Red Room days.

She'd been wrong.

Apparently taking care of a ROBOT child was much more exhausting that anything she
could've ever experienced. Her new new class made the task even more stressful by
constantly teaching her all she and the other third years were doing wrong, but at least it
helped in losing less points down the line.

The baby was basically the plastic form of the devil, but one Brooklyn was irrationally ready
to die protecting.

The days that Brook had taken Rosa home, she'd been left with little sleep since the little
robot keep waking the teen up. Feeding was annoying, changing was time consuming, but
she did all she could to get the best grade possible, fueled by Damian's own competitiveness
of their robot getting the highest grade.

Like all of her fellow junior classmates at school, Brook was a mess. As they all dragged
themselves down the school halls, the teen noticed how much like herself, the other kids her
age had exhausted gazes, dressed in mismatched clothing no longer meant to make a fashion
statement, but chosen for comfort.

It did not take long for everyone to realize the robot babies were so sophisticated, that when
you fed them the 'milk' which was just a mix of water and gelatin powder, the babies were
more than capable of throwing it up as a normal child would.

It was almost sad to see her fellow classmates walking wound with stains on the clothes they
did not care for. In fact, it seemed even Flash had no energy for bravado or the will to choose
an expensive outfit. He too opted for saggy jeans and a simple shirt that made him look
almost unrecognizable.

As Brook went from class to class, she heard the amused whispers of the lower school grades
as they pointed out everyone was dressed in mom/dad jeans, looking like they'd been hit with
aging five years in five days.

Brooklyn had no idea what they meant by that so called 'the juniors look like parents'. Brook
had a mom, and she dressed fashionably every day...the teen just looked tired.

Another amusing side effect of this little assignment wasn't just the messy styled hair and the
odd clothes, but also the fact that most of the couples at school famous for eating their faces
off any change they got, were now keeping a large distance from one another.
This was the weirdest form of brith control Brooklyn had ever seen, but at least the Principal
could walk around the halls proudly at their miserly...son of a bitch.

At lunch, the teens had gotten to the routine of picking up the babies from the 'day care' like
they would their own trays of food. They all feed the kids and themselves. The bathrooms
became baby changing rooms, and all over the school if one listened closely enough after
school they could hear the sounds of babies wailing in unison like banshees once the school
bell rang.

At least Brook's lunch table soon accommodated to the new additions of the babies, with
partners sitting next to one another for ease (Except for Flash. Ned and him took turns with
their own child separately). A small blessing.

It made spending time around Damian easier without having to justify their being with one
another. That didn't mean they weren't exhausted, and barely had the energy to hold a long
conversation about simple things.

If fact, for the first two days, the only ones seemingly happy with their baby were Jon and
Ned.

Ned was only so well rested and chipper because he'd hacked his own robot child to sleep
while cataloging normal activity done successfully. It was one of the main reasons why for
the past two days, he'd been subjected to random food to the face from everyone at the table
once they own children began to cry.

As for Jon, his joy was not due to hacking, but out of pure adoration for the assignment. He
was the one taking photos of the child like crazy, cataloging everyone's 'parenting experience'
on his camera feed. Yelena on the other hand, was rather indifferent with the robot meant to
be her offspring...like most people.

Taking care of the baby was exhausting in its now right, keeping up grades, SHIELD and
Stark Industries work atop that was not helpful in the least...but it was patrols that had
quickly proved to be a challenge.

After school, the group had set up rotations to do patrols, always doing so in pairs to be safe,
which meant that at times, the teens were not just taking care of one baby but two.

Like right now for instance.

Brooklyn was back in her apartment after a long day at school, and since Damian's family
would be busy today, he'd been able to come over. Jon and Yelena had been there a few
minutes ago, but left to take care of their patrol rotation which meant leaving their child with
the two ex-assassins.

This was the first rotation with two children she'd experience, and Brooklyn was ready to hurl
a baby by now once they both started crying.

That did not deter her and Damian from having a pleasant time though, especially once she
handed over Rosa and he got a look at her clothes. More specifically, the Iron Man baby
bodysuit little robot Rosa wore.

Damian frowned at the child in his arms, now used to holding one properly, he exclaimed,
"What is this?"

Brooklyn smirked past her exhaustion, ignoring the slight soreness of her arm from
yesterday's patrols (when she and Robin stopped a robbery and someone got in a surprise
kick thanks to her sleep deprivation) to hoist Seyg Kent against her shoulder, the way Damian
now held Rosa as they tried to sway the kids to sleep.

She gestured to the child in his arms with her chin, adding casually, "The robot is a Stark you
know, I thought it might be cute"

In reality, she just wanted to see the look on his face.

Damian may hold very fond emotions for Brooklyn, but he probably hated Tony Stark as
much as Brook hated Bruce Wayne. They both learned to accept that very quickly by now.

Said Wayne frowned down at the red outfit, noting the little arc reactor printed at the front.

It was with deep distaste that he replied, "No fake robot child of mine will wear this" but still
proceeded to rock the baby against his shoulder without bothering to change to outfit..

The black turtleneck and Jon's jeans truly did make Damian look like a dad, and it took a lot
for Brooklyn not to smirk at the sight. If she had, Dami would've just bounced back the insult
considering what Brooklyn looked like.

Brook was sure that if she told anyone what Damian was like behind closed doors, looking so
calm, with his frown almost nonexistent, no one would believe her.

It was a strange privilege in a way.

The two teens paced the living room, and it wasn't until they were closer to one another that
Brooklyn couldn't help but comment, "Ah...what a wonderful third date we have going on"

Damian briefly stopped his movements.

"I don't recall the first two" he muttered, brows pinched in confusion.

"Well the first was the car chase we stopped yesterday, then there was the robbery during
school from the day before that"

The emerald-eyed boy shook his head, his usually pristinely styled black hair slightly curlier
than usual as it bounced with the movement.

"I did my research on dates. I'm not sure those qualify, beloved"

The fact that he had done research on this stuff was a moving gesture on its own, it also eased
her mind considering Brooklyn had done quite a bit of reading on the foreign subject herself
just to be in the know.
Brook smiled, making sure the Kent baby hadn't thrown up on her back before replying,
"Well, they do for me. Otherwise we'd have none so far"

It wasn't a complaint course. They were both too busy and too well known to go out
anywhere like normal people do. They couldn't risk getting caught sneaking into a restaurant
and have their outings reported on every headline.

In fact, the only way they could be close out in public was with their secret identities, but
seeing as their families knew those, the two couldn't even act like they were close with one
another during simple missions.

These were the only times they could just be themselves, when they were in her apartment by
themselves.

They'd discussed keeping their relationship a secret from their teammates two days ago, not
just for secrecy, but for the sake of having the space to figure this out on their own without
input from anyone else.

Aside from her family, Yelena would probably throw a fit if she knew Brooklyn was dating
Ra's al Ghul's grandson...

Instead, they kept this little secret to themselves, and as far as Brooklyn was concerned, it
was going quite good so far.

"We've never been like everyone else" Brooklyn explained, "Its not necessarily a bad thing
you know. Maybe just how our friendship was unique to what normal people have, perhaps
we can make this relationship thing our own, define how we want our dates to be"

Damian nodded in understanding.

"So this is one of those so called dates then?"

She smiled again, "If you want. What's better than being stuck in my apartment with two
robot babies that are like ticking time bombs waiting to go off?"

Damian smirked, nodding along and thus agreeing to their 'first date'. Not the most traditional
or normal of sorts, but perfect in its own odd little way.

Somehow, being around him always made moments feel special, like little milestones that
were beacons of light, pushing back the darkness of the past.

It was probably why Brook had been able to keep memories of what happened back at the
Bermuda Triangle at bay. Knowing he'd been there, that they had made it though together...it
made it all easier, just like today.

Maybe someday in the future they'd have more time to explore this new relationship they
had, but for now, this was more than enough.

As the two continued swaying from side to side to comfort the baby controls, Brooklyn
couldn't help but chuckle once more, moving closer to him as if they were dancing with one
another.

Damian scoffed at the action, but moved closer as well so that they were almost less than an
inch apart from one another's bodies.

"I'm glad we get to dance again" she joked, to which Damian was quick to reply sarcastically,
"As always, your dancing is exceptional"

So they stood there in the living room, swaying as if they were dancing with one another for
minutes until Rosa and Seyg fell asleep. Even then, the two teens did not stop their swaying
as they enjoyed their self proclaimed date.

Brooklyn was close enough that if she leaned up a little, she could connect her lips with his
own, which she hadn't kissed since that day before her scheduled execution. If the Stark was
being honest, she'd missed the feeling. Not even for 'hormonal' reasons, but simply because
she knew physical contact was difficult for Damian, and yet he'd found kissing her
acceptable.

It was a sign trust between them.

But the Stark also knew that she wouldn't push boundaries Damian was not ready for, so
instead, Brook got on her tip toes and kissed his nose, beholding the subtle look of
contentment that crossed his eyes.

Still exhausted and worn out, Brooklyn asked GIL sing lullabies so the babies would stay
asleep, something they had found out yesterday managed to help increase sleeping hours. It
was likely programed that way due to the illusion of keeping tabs on the child, but since
Brook and Damian didn't exactly have childhood lullabies of their own given their
upbringings, it was up to GIL to find something suitable on the internet. Damian had already
tried with a famous nursery rhyme of Gotham origin that he'd head later in life, one about a
mythical enemy he and his family had defeated which he thought Rosa might appreciate as a
sign of his strength. By Brooklyn's assassin childhood standards, she'd thought it had been
fantastic;

Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time.

Ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime.

They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed.

Speak not a whispered word of them, or they'll send a Talon for your head.

Somehow that had made Rosa cry harder, so they'd opted for boring children's melodies
instead. Turned out, today's lullabies were enough for the two teens to also fall asleep on the
couch, babies laying on their chest comfortably. It wasn't until Jon teasingly woke them up
hours later that their rest ended.

Damian had wasted no time chasing Jon around the apartment for that comment about
domesticity, leaving Brooklyn and Yelena to watch the chaos unfold with amusement of their
own hidden behind bites of spaghetti.

Damian POV-

It was once again, his turn to take the machine home. For the whole weekend.

Unfortunately for Damian, this time his family would all be home to witness such a peculiar
object. He'd lucked out until now, mostly because father had business to take care of in
Philadelphia.

The only one who knew of the project was Pennyworth of course. Yet he'd only seen Damian
carry a baby car seat inside the house, but had not questioned its contents. With Rosa
confined to the teen's room, Pennyworth had no clue the extent of this project yet.

It seemed that tonight, that would all change.

One text from Dick, and the teen was informed everyone would be at the manor for the whole
week. Something about a milestone of the REAL child Selina was carrying that was
supposed to bring everyone together.

The prospect of seeing all of his siblings reunited once more after the peace and quiet of them
all being busy these past few days was already giving Damian a headache.

As he buckled in the robot child to its seat in Roscoe, Damian got a glimpse of Jon bidding
farewell to Yelena, who'd left Jon with their own fake child after getting picked up by a man
Damian had once met. Happy was not a name that suited that man, but Brooklyn seemed
fond of him regardless.

It was once Jon took to the skies, promising to stop by the manor later due to some family
business, that Damian scanned the grey skies just to make sure that fool truly was gone.

Turning back to Brooklyn, he noticed her busy in the passenger's seat fixing Rosa's blankets
that did little to obscure the Iron Man onesie she'd decided to tease him with today.

His beloved should've stayed inside the apartment, but she'd insisted on seeing him off, even
when that meant exiting the warmth of her home with nothing but mismatched socks, loose
clothing, and messily put up hair.

In any other being, Damian would've found such carelessness for appearance annoying. Yet,
as he beheld Brooklyn adjusting the baby seat, he couldn't help but think she looked radiant
still. Such a confession of emotions was getting easier to say in his head as time went by,
even more so now that they were in a relationship, their peculiar 'something more'.

Normally, Damian despised change.

He originally thought that this change between him and Brooklyn would be a mistake of
sorts, but even when they had both been busier than usual, knowing they were together was a
stranger comfort in the back of his head.
It was still a challenge of sorts, not just because he hadn't the slightest clue how to be a good
partner, but because Damian knew he couldn't let himself be like his own mother.

Mother often viewed father as her property, someone she felt was his, a mere object. What
she had for him was...perhaps more of an obsession rather than actual emotion, and even
though she'd shown she was capable of mercy after what happened at the Bermuda Triangle,
Damian still hadn't forgiven her entirely for being more than ready to let Brooklyn die.

The Wayne hated to admit it, but in times of doubt and confusion, he turned to relationships
of people in his life that actually seemed to work, like Grayson and Starfire. Now that
Damian understood what having such emotions felt like, it was easier to wager how and why
they worked out.

Damian had deduced recently that perhaps this courting period was not about one person
owning another for themselves, but a mutual understanding that two people belonged solely
to one another.

Luckily for Damian, that took little to wrap his head around, not because he was a genius, but
because he and Brooklyn had been teammates for a long time. She had his back, and he had
hers. Now it seemed that a similar arrangement had evolved, of her holding his affections at
hand and he with her own.

As ex-assassins, there was a lot of trust required for such an arrangement to work, and
Damian was surprisingly pleased that all seemed to be doing alright.

He hadn't messed up during their date today after all.

Perhaps that is why he moved away from the garage doors to stand before Brooklyn, feeling
his face contort into one of those small smiles that always seemed to make his beloved's own
red-lipped grin grow.

It puzzled Damian sometimes how his own expressions of...happiness, could make someone
else happy.

Not that he minded of course, he'd noticed Brooklyn didn't smile at Peter the way she did for
Damian. That felt like a victory of sorts.

"I'll call you later in the day during the weekends to help with Rosa" Brooklyn said from her
place leaning against the back door, moving to fix the collar of his turtleneck as she'd taken to
doing. Again, another action he did not mind as long as it was her doing it and no one else.

"Once my siblings leave to do their own things, I'll be able to stay in Queens more often"
Damian promised, ignoring the random cooing noises from the robot baby beside them,
settled inside the car. Damian had taken to drowning out those noises while driving with
some of Brooklyn's favorite music. It usually

worked.
"Your siblings are very odd" Brooklyn mused, leaning her head against his chest, "I still don't
know how to feel about your eldest brother saving my life back at Bermuda. Maybe that hit
was meant for me and he missed"

Dick saved her life? That was the first time he'd heard of it.

"My brother, despite being an idiot, never misses a shot" Damian said, "Though I suppose
that out of all my siblings, Dick would be the one to save an enemy without much thought"

Dick may be annoying, pestering to a fault, but he was probably the most morally driven out
of all of father's kids. Perhaps it was his age and experience, but even Damian was surprised
that his own brother had saved a Stark.

What was he playing at...

Before Damian could get too lost trying to figure it out, Brooklyn moved to look up at him,
caressing his cheeks and leaning up to place a kiss on his nose, one who's warmth lingered on
his skin...and it wasn't because of her fire abilities.

There was something about his beloved being this close, something about their conversation
form earlier that made this moment feel like one of Polaroids in Brooklyn's room. It felt like a
stamp in time, something special in his mind, like his first time as Robin, or the first kill he
refused to kill, meeting his father and siblings...the list went on.

Damian was not one to be sentimental about 'living in the moment' as Dick liked to call it, but
this moment alone with Brooklyn...it felt very special.

So he cradled her face, making sure to ghost his fingers against her skin in case she wished to
pull away. Once Damian leaned down so their noses touched, he waited for any sign of
hesitation from his beloved (even looked for some of his own, but found none), and when she
leaned up and their lips met, all reservations went out the window.

Their kiss was soft, slow, as if their lips were getting to know one another once more. There
was no faltering between them though, not when Brooklyn was quick to wind her arms
around his neck and he placed his hands against her hips to pull himself closer.

It occurred to him that months ago, such large amount of intimate contact would've been
unimaginable, but all of that had changed that day at the gala when he met his beloved.

Now as their warm lips moved against one another, Damian let his mind relax for a few
minutes.

He wasn't thinking of all the problems in the world, just on the girl before him.

Despite the rough days they'd been having (partially due to the robot in the car), Brook still
smelled like vanilla, and her body was no longer constantly freezing now that the vibranium
bracelets had come off at last.

He'd never mentioned it to her...but Damian was glad to fell her warm fingers thread around
his covered neck, even more glad that she was no longer living with the fear of touching him
or anything else thanks to her days of training at Xavier's these past weeks.

Damian could now focus on the feel of Brooklyn smiling against their kiss, as her fingertips
playfully reached for his hair which only made him kiss her with more vigor.

Some part of him was still very aware of how close they'd come to not being able to have this
had they met their fates at Ivan's hands. That was probably why Damian did not care what his
family or the League would think about it.

This was his choice, his life, and his beloved.

When they finally broke apart, Brooklyn's eyes looked hazy but content as she nuzzled her
nose against his own fondly.

With their lips still close to one another, barely touching, Brook whispered to him, "I could
definitely get used to that kind of farewell, Dami"

Damian rolled his eyes at her boldness, but moved to place his lips against her own one last
time before pushing his body back slowly, letting his hands fall away from Brook's hips.

"That seems like an acceptable arrangement" he replied, finding that kisses were not as bad
as he once thought when he beheld his siblings snogging their significant others. That was
still gross of course, just not when he kissed Brooklyn (not that they'd ever know that was
happening).

Wordlessly, his beloved tugged at her sweater's sleeve and gently wiped the red smudges of
her lipstick off his mouth, something Damian had not even thought about when he'd been lost
in the moment.

Damian let her do so as he wound his fingers over her red locks, just watching her care of
him.

Eventually, he had to leave, and once the Jeep was back on the streets and the music was on
to keep the robot satisfied, Damian found himself fully excepting a few things.

This something more was a good change, Perhaps many changes in the future might not be so
bad as well. Leaving the League of Assassins behind, even if that meant not seeing his
mother again, had been the right choice. Choosing to follow his emotions had been a right
choice.

He couldn't help but be annoyed as his thoughts drifted to something else, that....that maybe
Dick Grayson deserved some slack for a few days, not because he'd saved Brooklyn's
life....but because he'd saved Brooklyn's life.

Not that he'd ever admit to it of course.

 Better than Bruce

Damian POV-

Damian Wayne was having the worst weekend of his life.

From the moment he stepped foot home on Friday, his brothers and sisters had dropped their
jaws at the sight of his tired self coming home with a baby carrier in hand, a baby bag where
his usual duffle bag with the Robin suit was, and a katana in the other hand because he
expected them to pester him.

He'd been correct.

Dick practically hurled himself off the couch, asking who's child he'd kidnapped, or if this
was a new adopted child from father. It had taken much restraint and memories of Dick's
charitable actions towards Brooklyn to not strike down his brother at the rush of questions.

Before Todd could think to peek under the blanket covering the view inside the baby carrier,
Damian had kicked him behind the knees, sending the nuisance to the floor...which only
served to alert his siblings to pester him further.

Damian had been tried in his explanation, refusing to let anyone see the robot child with the
Iron Man themed outfit would not bring about more questions the teen could not answer.

So he'd merely explained, "Its a school project, keep away from it" then left to his room.

I wasn't until Saturday morning that Damian was forced downstairs for breakfast, having no
choice but to bring Rosa along with him, this time in the school given clothes to avoid
suspicion even when he could've passed off the Iron man onesie as a way to bother father.

For once, the large table feel silent as Damian walked in, sat down, and set Rosa on his lap as
he aggressively opened up a packet of the school provided mix and poured some of his
morning water in it. It was as he placed the small bottle in the baby's mouth that father finally
managed to come out of his confusion to ask, "Do I want to know why Damian has a baby?
Someone tell me its not real and its just another stray animal"

As if in challenge, the robot baby took that chance to let out one of its pre-recorded coos as
Damian held Rosa in his arms.

For a moment, Damian considered shutting down his father they way he had with his
siblings, but in an attempt to get back at him for the break-long house arrest, he said in a
serious tone, "You're the one that brings stray children in here father, would that surprise
you?"

Dick and Stephanie leaned back on their chairs, letting out a loud cackles of laughter at
father's horrified expression as he leaned forward to see if the baby truly was real. It probably
wasn't helping that Selina was laughing so hard she was leaning over his body in a fit of tears
and chuckles.

When Drake tried to reach to touch Rosa, Damian did not hesitate to slap his hand away. The
sudden thought of his brother touching and possibly harming the chil-robot gave him
nausea...likely because his school grade would suffer as a result.

It took a while for the table to stop staring at Damian, to accept that he'd be burdened with a
robot child for a few weeks. It all seemed to be going alright until Todd decided to open his
fat mouth currently stuffed with an ungodly amount of Cheerios.

"So your teachers just handed you fake babies to take care of? Like thats gonna end well.
What happens when you're busy doing Robin stuff?" Jason asked.

Stephanie was quick to wave her arm in the air, almost bolting out of her sear across from the
teen as she shouted, "I volunteer! I can take care of the little cutie!"

Damian looked down at Rosa, the project entrusted to him by his beloved. It did not take long
for him to realize there was no way any of his siblings would ever get a hold of this child.

"If you touch it, you die" Damian said monotony, and as if in agreement, Titus who was
seated beside the teen barked in warning.

Damian thought it would take quite some time that first night to make sure Titus would not
mistake the robot for a weapon or a toy to destroy. Turned out, one sniff at what must've been
Brooklyn's scent on Rosa, and Titus left the doll alone...he'd even moved to guard the baby
carrier during the night.

Titus viewed the robot child as something to protect now, and Damian would love to see what
kind of nasty bites his idiotic siblings would suffer if they messed with Rosa now.

Jason smirked across the table, eyeing the robot with glee, especially once it started cooing
and Damian was forced to bounce one of his legs to entertain the child's programing.

"I gotta say little demon, you seem to have the parenting thing down" Todd teased, motioning
to the child in Damian's arms with his fork, "Its kinda weird seeing you all domestic like this,
but I'm surprised you agreed to do it in the first place"

Damian scoffed, "Its for a grade Todd, some of us actually care about our academic
endeavors" then with a sigh he added, "Besides, its not as if it was hard to begin with"

That was a lie.

Damian had not expected that Rosa would be so problematic. The first few nights being
woken up by crying, he'd debated throwing the kid out the window, but then he recalled his
grade.

That had only made Damian want to throw himself out the window.
The teen had known next to nothing about babies prior to this assignment. He'd been unaware
of how a lack of communication between a human and baby would make said child's only
way of voicing concerns be through wails and tears.

Damian had been forced to go through his class notes over and over again to figure out what
Rosa could possibly need at three in the morning. He'd ruined many of his turtlenecks early
on when he learned babies needed to be burped after meals for 'air removal'.

The fact that throwing up food contents was encouraged almost made Damian give up on the
whole assignment...then he saw Brooklyn deal with the child.

His beloved was still nervous and somewhat weary of Rosa, but she worked hard to make it
all work out in the end.

Now, Damian knew thanks to their teamwork that simple swaying and talking could get the
robot to quiet down. That there was a schedule to meals, sleep, and dipper changing, that
made it easier to figure out what the baby needed.

He'd now grown used to the significant weight of the baby in his arms, had learned not to
freak out over the random noises and coos the child made...he even knew that some of GIL's
chosen lullabies often worked to get the baby to go to sleep faster.

But his family did not need to know the struggle it took to get this far. Let them think Damian
was a natural at it.

Beside father, Selina reached for a goblet of apple juice, eyeing Damian with a certain
curiosity that made the teen glare her way in defense.

"I think parenting suits you Damian" she said casually, "It's like you're all grown up. Good
thing your school set up this assignment!"

Dick chuckled from his seat, throwing an apple at Cassandra before adding, "We had that
assignment back in Gotham High when I was a student!"

Father shook his head, looking exasperated as he said, "I remember. You dropped your kid by
accident during patrols. You cried for a week"

Dick was suddenly getting teary eyed at the memory, leaning forward on the table as he
wailed, "Willy!!!!!!"

Tim looked up from his plate, raising a brow as he added in Dick's direction, "How come I
didn't have such an assignment?"

Around the table, all others who attended Gotham High nodded in agreement to Tim's words,
complaining as if they felt robbed of the experience that was far more torturous to Damian
that he'd ever let known.

As always, Dick Grayson couldn't just give an explanation.

He had to give a whole dramatic reveal.

"Well, after my generation, they decided to scrap the baby assignment. It may be useful in
other cities, but Gotham is not safe enough for it" Dick explained, "They banned it in Gotham
because students were coming to school in tears after their kids were stolen on the streets, it
was even rumored they were sold for parts or accidentally taken to the Black Market when
child traffickers thought they were real babies"

Damian had the sudden realization that there was no way Rosa was leaving the manor when
in Gotham. If anyone messed with the robot, they'd meet a most unfortunate beating and a
lifetime in prison.

Gazing down at the sleeping robot, Damian couldn't help but get protective all of the sudden.

Like hell anyone was messing with something that was his.

The thought followed him as the day went by, in which time his siblings had still not gotten
over the new temporary addition to the manor.

One would think it was their own child to care for, because in just a few hours, the baby had a
stack of clothes to choose from since Stephanie instead no Wayne would ever wear cheap
school provided clothes in this house.

Dick had been following Damian around all day, begging for a turn with the child, to which
Damian always replied, "You already dropped yours fifty stories down, I'm not letting you
touch mine"

That usually sent the grown man kneeling on the floor wailing at the loss of his own robot.

Damian did his best to avoid mentioning he wasn't the sole owner of this baby, mentioning a
Stark was involved would surely cause chaos.

Now, as he settled down in the living room, Damian had to fight the urge to not only change
Rosa out of the Batman onesie, but also to throw a pillow at a passing Dick and his wife who
were smirking at him.

"Sorry D, I almost didn't recognize you" Dick said, motioning to the teen as he took a seat on
a near loveseat with Starfire on his lap, her glowing eyes smiling at Damian's misery.

Damian wanted to be angry, but he knew for a fact he looked nothing like his usual self.

Despite the baby on his lap, it was the attire Dick was referring to. Thanks to this ridiculous
assignment, all third year students at school were being mocked as 'looking like parents',
which wasn't a far off claim.

They were all subconsciously starting to dress more like common adult parents after all, all
because of practicality.

Since the baby actually barfed and shit out the substance they were given at school, Damian
too had to sacrifice his usual expensive attire, the pressed pants and glossy shoes, since he
was sick of getting them dirty.
Now as he worked on keeping Rosa silent AND finish a history essay on his laptop, Damian
could see his reflection on the screen. The jeans he wore were foreign on his skin, but easier
to clean when it came to baby messes. His turtlenecks had remained untouched for the most
part, but Damian had taken to wearing loose sweaters that were easy to discard when needed,
to keep him warm enough outdoors but cool enough when he inevitably had to rock a baby to
sleep.

Because he was so tired all the time now, Damian had to sacrifice the time to style his hair
into place, and due to the exhaustion, he'd begun to wear his glasses at home to see his screen
better.

Bruce had gotten them all glasses long ago, claiming staring at monitors and computers all
day would damage their vision. Even Drake, the one practically married to any given
monitor, had elected not to wear them.

That was until recently when Damian had broken that streak.

"I think its a good look on you demon" Jason said, plopping down on a nearby couch with a
bowl of popcorn in hand, "Makes you look all soft and innocent for once"

Before Damian could debate his ability on rocking a baby in his arms while killing a brother
without disturbing the robot, Jason's amusement dissipated when he beheld what Rosa held.

"What the fuck is that!? Are those mine!?" Jason yelled, standing up from his chair much to
Damian's amusement.

In Rosa's hand was a simple Batarang that Damian had placed in the baby's closed fist to hold
since the robot can sense objects for comfort. Normally, one was supposed to use toys or
other sorts of useless objects, but a Batarang seemed like a good way to train a child for the
future.

He baby proofed it of course, putting some of Jason's drum ear plugs on the sharp ends to
prevent injuries. Thats where Jason's annoyance came from.

"The assignment dictates I treat this robot as if it were my own offspring. No child of mine
will spend their childhood clutching useless objects when they can be learning how to
become acquainted with weapons instead" he clarified.

Upon her arrival, Stephanie settled on Drake's lap lazily (the teen hadn't even seen Tim
arrive) while eyeing Damian with terrified eyes honed on the Batarang in Rosa's still hand.

"Well, at least this assignment is bound to be fun for all of us" Stephanie said, letting Drake
comb through her blonde hair as she added mischievously, "Damian might even end up being
much more prepared for taking care of a baby than Bruce is, isn't that odd?"

Father walked in as if summoned by his name, frowning at Stephanie while he reaching out
for the robot child with a frown on his face.
"Who says I can't take care of a baby?" father complained, and just as his fingers were about
to close in on Rosa, Damian leaned back on the couch to keep the baby out of reach.

In that instant, Titus rushed down the stairs, barking loudly as he positioned himself in
between Damian and father with a warning growl.

"Father, you know how to train Robins, not cradle a baby with proper head support" Damian
said, realizing how ridiculous those words sounded out of his mouth, but did not take them
back as he reached for the nearby bottle he'd prepared earlier with outmost seriousness.

As the rest of his siblings settled around the living room with snacks in hand, Damian almost
complained to the person choosing to sit next to him until he realized it was Barbara, looking
happy as ever, no doubt due to the amount of missions and patrols she'd been able to go to
these past weeks. There wasn't a single flaw to her brace supports from Brooklyn, and thanks
to the upgrades Pennyworth was putting in place per his beloved's instruction, Damian's
sibling could now run as easily as before...faster even.

Damian couldn't help the pride that took hold of his mind at the thought of Brooklyn's help.

It truly was a very persistent annoyance that everyone in this house insisted Starks were still
the enemy, especially after what happened at the Bermuda Triangle. Father viewed it as the
Stark's fault for letting Brooklyn be captured. Similarly, Mr. Stark saw it as father's fault for
not acting quicker.

Neither parent had been able to get the story of what happened in there from either teen,
which is why they had no clue that it was no ones fault but Ivan's perhaps even some fault
fell in Damian's own mother.

Beside him, Barbara suddenly burst into a fit of laughter, pulling out a book from Rosa's baby
bag between their bodies.

"Oh my god" Barbara exclaimed as she stared at the book cover, "First of all, I can't believe
the great and terrifying Damian Wayne is reading to a child, but WHY are you reading The
Art of War?!"

Jason and Stephanie burst into laughter, almost startling a pregnant Selina who walked into
the living room with Pennyworth's helping hand.

Damian had no idea why everyone in the room looked amused. Why shouldn't he read
something stimulating and full of proper knowledge to 'his child'.

"It's vital information which I too was read as an infant" Damian explained to his uncultured
siblings.

Brooklyn had acquired the book from Michelle Jones since that girl could go blind into any
given library and find any book. While others in their company chose to read books about
little animals and fairytales, he and his beloved had agreed their little project would not be
subjected to such falsehoods of life.
What better bedtime story was there than The Art of War?

"The art of war?" Stephanie spat, "What is that even about? How to draw battlefields?"

Damian and Cassandra shared a disappointed look amongst one another as she busied her
time sharpening one of her favorite daggers by Jason's side.

Figures father would find it unnecessary to exclude such crucial literature from either his
training or his raising of kids. Looking up at said father, Damian couldn't help but be
disappointed.

Ra's al Ghul had trained father in the League once upon a time, he should know of this kind
of literature's importance.

Turning back to Stephanie, Damian summoned all of his practiced patience to explain, "The
Art of War has nothing to do with art. For instance," he said, using his free hand to snatch the
book and open it to its last reading spot, "Sun Tzu explains that one wins his battles by
making no mistakes. Making no mistakes is what establishes the certainty of victory, for it
means conquering an enemy that is already defeated. Thus a victorious strategist only seeks
battle after the victory has been won, whereas he who is destined to defeat first fights and
afterwards looks for victory"

Damian couldn't help but look at the blinking face of Rosa, still drinking from its bottle in his
arms. He KNEW Rosa was an inanimate object, but still he looked to make sure the baby had
retained the knowledge, only to be met with that continuous and slow blinking.

Father began retreating back to his wife's side, but not once taking his eyes off Damian, as if
the teen had grown an extra head or something. It must be jealousy in his mind, after being
proved he truly was less experienced than Damian when it came to proper baby handling.

His triumph however, was obscured by his siblings amused glances. Before Titus could
attack, Selina stood from her spot on the couch beside father, excitedly waving around a little
envelope.

"Enough teasing Damian, we called a family meeting for a purpose" she said, pushing back
loose strands of her brown hair as father moved to place a hand on Selina's swollen stomach.

For some reason, Stephanie and Pennyworth already looked excited, and Dick was already
smiling at his own wife knowingly.

Damian tried to think what the news could be or why everyone was staring at that plain
envelope with such hope.

Selina smiled at everyone gathered, clutching Pennyworth's outstretched hand as she

announced, "We got the ultrasound images of the baby today, and we wanted all of you to see
your future sibling"

This...this is why Damian was summoned?

Unbelievable.
Despite the differences some had with father, the conflicts they often got into between
siblings, everyone seemed to set all that aside as the envelope was passed around, letting
them get a good look at the fetus of about 12 weeks of development.

When the photo got to him and Barbara, Damian wasn't entirely sure what he was looking
at...it certainly wasn't a baby. Damian should've noted Cassandra's confusion as something
notable to go by, because while Barbara smiled at the image...the teen had no clue what to
say.

Damian had never seen an ultrasound before, and he'd been developed under an artificial
womb, so all of this was foreign to him. It was certainly not worth tears and hugs everyone
was giving Selina..well all but Jason and Cass, but even Todd seemed to know what he'd
looked at.

"Can't you see the baby? It's the size of a passion fruit" Barbara whispered, leaning forward
to point at the center of the ultrasound to show that smudge that looked to have arms and
legs.

If it truly was as large ad Barbara described, then the fetus was as defenseless as an ant.

Though Damian did not rush over to hug Selina as most in attendance did, he decided to at
least nod her way in acknowledgment. Her array of hormones responded to such action with
large tears only quelled by father's soothing words and the news on TV.

Its not like Damian had done anything...

During said hormonal display, Damian noticed Rosa finished her...its...bottle. Knowing the
drill by now, Damian placed the baby against his shoulder, commencing the gentle tapping of
its back.

Though most were focused on the news of a new construction project in New York, Todd was
staring at Damian with a smirk, once again engaging in his comments about the teen looking
quite fatherly and frail.

Damian did his best to keep the anger at bay since Pennyworth was around and any damage
to his prized antique furniture would result in unfavorable words from the old man.

Such patience ran thin when not only was Todd continuing with his unsavory comments, but
father had begun with some equally as infuriating ones of his own.

It all started when Brooklyn showed up on TV, a segment on the recent modeling job she'd
had to do for some brand called Balenciaga. Though Brook had been forced to do modeling
work during the break, that was the first she'd done with her younger brother as a segment
specifically on the Stark siblings.

Brooklyn had complained about how nerve recking it was to do public things like that, even
when Ivan was locked up.
Now on the flat screen was the results of said modeling session, with Brooklyn and Harley
displaying extravagant clothes of red and gold to pay homage to their father. They smiled,
threw confetti at one another, posed in various sets, all while looking every inch the New
York royalty that was expected of them.

Damian had NEVER agreed to interviews, modeling jobs, or anything having to do with
public images outside of attending company events, that las one being something Todd was
exceptionally good at.

But father did not see a girl being forced to hold a pubic image, he only saw Brooklyn Stark,
the daughter of his enemy, the girl he often complained of being nothing but an assassin who
would become a danger in the future. A teenager who's pursuit to become an Avenger was
nothing but a mistake.

He'd said as much then, glaring up at the TV with distaste.

Damian decided then and there that he would not listen to the slander any longer, so as his
restraint snapped, the teen turned to Jason, ushering him forward as if finally granting him
permission to hold the baby.

Todd seemed too elated to consider the fact that Damian would NEVER let him close to
Rosa.

"You may look at her face" Damian said while he stood up, watching as Jason moved behind
him despite Titus's warnings.

"Her face?" Jason asked, leaning closer to inspect the blinking green eyes.

With timed precision, Damian patted Rosa's back one last time, almost saddened he couldn't
turn around to see when the baby threw up all over Jason's shirt.

He heard Todd scream in disgust, watched as the family turned away from the TV to behold
what occurred.

Damian did not bother to glare at anyone (thought he did shoot an evil smirk at a seething
Jason), he merely got the baby bag, let Titus come stand beside him, and left back up the
stairs with a stiff farewell to all.

Once upstairs in the privacy of his own room, Damian let himself smile at the little robot.

"Good job" he whispered, setting Rosa down on the bed with Titus quickly following as a
bodyguard.

For whatever reason, Damian moved over to open the secret compartment on his desk, where
a lavish ring of diamonds and a priceless emerald rested.

At least one of his parents approved of Brooklyn...

Somehow, Brook had earned the approval of Talia al Ghul during battle, and mother had seen
it fitting to provide Damian with a priceless heirloom as a result. He was nowhere near even
thinking of giving Brooklyn the ring, or even thinking of marriage for that matter...but he
found the concept intriguing.

All his life Damian assumed he'd never marry, and if he did, it would be under orders of his
mother. But her giving Damian the ring, it was a choice, she was giving him a chance to
choose despite the disappointment he'd bestowed upon her.

That probably why he always found some sort of comfort looking at the ring now a days.

Damian has spent all his life under orders. First grandfather had commanded his every move,
choosing every aspect of the young boy's life. Then upon his death, mother took that role,
then father.

This was possibly one of the few choices that were fully in Damian's hands.

Having mother's blessing with the family ring meant she approved of him being around
Brook, even if she likely despised Brooklyn's past.

Father was clearly on the far end of the opposite spectrum.

Bruce would never agree to such a vision...at least this whole baby thing was enough on his
mind to ponder too much on the ring in hand, and that for the first time in Damian's life, he
knew his first choice of this something more had been a good one.

*******

Tim Drake POV-

Now, Tim was often described as the overly studious one of the Wayne siblings (even when
most of them no longer considered themselves Waynes). Though he was the third oldest, his
siblings often came to him with questions and homework help since the dawn of time.

Today though, it seemed Tim was the one that did not have an explanation to provide.

Since this whole thing with the Stark had begun, Tim had been feeling more confused than
usual. Damian was not a normal teenager by any means. He was rude, spoiled, and if his ego
was any bigger there would be moons orbiting around his head. Often times, it was not hard
to figure him out, either Damian was angry or annoyed, there was rarely anything in between.

That had all changed when Brooklyn Stark appeared at that gala, and even with all his
intelligence, Tim could've never been able to predict what would occur.

Though he held a general distaste for the small demon and his assassin family, there had
always been a little bit of jealousy there. Tim was a grown man now, he could admit that to
himself.

Since Damian had arrived, Tim had felt upset...

Damian WAS Bruce's biological son, the one meant to inherit everything...Bruce's actual
family by blood. What did that make Tim then? Just an orphan who's parents were poisoned
to death.

Often times, Tim found solace in knowing Damian was not as great as he boasted. The kid
had no social skills, no space for love and kindness in that heart of his. The demon might be
skilled and smart, but he would grow to be nothing more than a sour man with Gotham to his
name, but no one to share it with.

Tim on the other hand, had a decent life going. He finally 'retired' from his hero duties which
took off a lot of stress, and quite frankly, being tech support was something he found himself
much more useful at. Steph and him had a steady relationship going on too, one Tim couldn't
imagine being without. And, he was able to help Bruce with the company, guiding it to more
success than ever imagined.

He had a family, a future, and a home. What more could a man ask for?

The thing was....maybe Damian's own future was beginning to change, and some of that old
jealousy in Tim seemed to be returning, even when another part of him had grown to not hate
the teen as much. In fact, he'd come to think of the insults and cold-shoulder demeanor from
the boy as something familiar and comforting.

Tim knew he wanted his family to be happy, including Bruce and Damian, and just as Bruce
was starting to get his life on track with Selina and this new baby sibling, it seemed Damian
had done some growing up behind their backs.

Up on a secret ledge in the bat cave, Tim and his brothers were spying on Damian down
below on this Sunday night. They were all huddled close due to the small space in the
shadows, each with night vision goggles to help them see the scene below a little better.

The bats around them had finally deemed their presence as harmless, and now that all was
quiet, they could behold the impossible.

It was not uncommon to see Damian training so late at night, mostly because he despised
doing so with everyone else around him, but also because he seemed to be spending more
time in Queens lately for his 'patrol internship'. On weekends when at least more people were
in the manor, Tim often noticed his youngest brother spent more time down at the cave than
normal, which is why he and his siblings decided to see what Damian was up to when he
thought no one was around.

Dick and his cherished wife Kori, had sworn on their lives that they'd once heard Damian
talking to the Stark when in privacy. They'd all gathered here today to prove that right or
wrong. Bets were placed, Tim's camera was on, and now all they had to do was make sure
Dick could keep his squeals at bay.

Like he said, Damian often sparred until the wee hours of the night, but tonight though, he'd
brought a little guest.

As Damian finished slashing at dummies with his katana, the first thing he did was turn to the
baby carrier propped on a nearby table. What was rather scary about that was the fact that
Titus stood by its side, guarding it as if he'd found a new toy he treasured.
That dog was seriously messed up....

With a sigh, Damian retracted his katana, moving towards the baby now dressed in the
Batman Pjs Steph had bought as a joke more than anything. Bruce had been less than
amused, so they considered it a success.

Tim had witnessed Damian do some pretty violent things in life, like back when he'd still
struggled with the concept of killing and decapitated a villain named Spook, all the times he
beat up Tim, killing NoBody...the list goes on.

Sure, Damian didn't kill anymore, and when he fought Tim and their siblings, he never
injured them brutally. But he was still cold, calculating, refusing to show affection or
emotions lest it make him look weak. In some ways, Damian acted just like Bruce from time
to time.

Right now though, it was like Damian had shed that outer skin, because he picked up that
baby with a gentleness Tim did not think possible.

Jason was already cursing beside him as a result, like the sight gave the mighty Red Hood
chills.

Not only did Damian handle the baby with a gentle hand, but he propped the baby against his
chest, swaying around to calm the rising wailing from the robot.

"Maybe it's because Damian sometimes acts like a robot that they get along well" Barbara
mused, fighting the falling strands of her own hair to get a good view. Cass was beside her,
making sure the tight space did not hurt Barbara in ant way, but even she looked entranced by
the sight below.

"Did the League train you guys to handle children?" Kori asked Cass.

"No" The black haired girl admitted, "We were taught to protect the babies at the League, but
we were told they were weak and should be treated as any adult to make them stronger. Why
do you think Damian hates babies and children so much?"

Then where did he....

Damian looked at the crying baby with some familiar distaste, but that frown vanished in
seconds as he told the robot doll, "Enough Rosa, you bear the Wayne name despite your lack
of flesh and bones. Crying is futile"

Some part of Tim wanted to laugh, but as the baby quieted, he was left wondering how that
was even possible. Maybe he'd take a look at the manufacturing of said babies after all this...

To further the confusion of the peeping adults, Tim was actually surprised Damian named the
thing. But why Rosa out of all things?

"Rosa? What does that even mean?" Steph asked, nudging Cass as she added, "Does that
have League meaning?"
Cass shook her head.

"It means roasting in Spanish" Jason whispered confidently, only for Tim to backhand him on
the head.

Tim clarified, "Rosa means rose in Spanish you idiot"

The question was, why that name? As far as any of them where concerned, Damian held no
love or thoughts on any kind of flower. It was scary to think why that name had been given,
the mystery of it something that would surely haunt Tim in nights to come.

Another thing that would haunt his brilliant mind would be the way Damian seemed to deal
with the baby with relative confidence, being relatively polite when introducing 'Rosa' to
Batcow.

The cow herself looked confused, but sent its own greetings to the baby when she saw Alfred
the cat and Titus standing defensively by her.

In a more Damian fashion, the teen then proceeded to walk Rosa around the batcave, showing
and explaining each weapon and trophy around the large cave-like space. All the while,
Damian casually mentioned which weapons could be used best to injure an enemy with.

Such a display of what was more like the old Damian was softened when he added, almost as
if scolding the baby against his chest, "But we don't kill. We seek justice, not vengeance"

Dick was wiping imaginary tears from his eyes like proud parent.

Then, a little cracking noise came from where the baby's stuff was sprawled on a table. Tim
did not want to make claims that were not true, but he could've sworn Damian walked little
faster than normal as he reached into the blue bag.

He fished out a walkie talkie of all things.

It was nothing fancy, but from what Tim could tell, it was not a cheap object either. He was
later proved right when the familiar voice of a Stark came from the other end, meaning the
reach on that thing was rather impressive.

Almost in sync, Dick and Kori began shooting smug looks at everyone.

Looked like they had been telling the truth after all, which meant...Damian was actively
talking to a family enemy under Bruce's roof, more right under dad's nose considering the
teen was in the cave.

In that moment, Tim couldn't have been prouder to call the demon his brother....which was a
weird thing to think about. Defying Bruce was always something to celebrate.

Though they were quite high up, those gathered to spy could hear the Stark's words well
thanks to the cave echo.
"How have you been with Rosa?" the girl who saved his life weeks ago asked casually. Tim
hadn't for gotten the incident at Oscorp. Likely would never.

Damian sighed, looking down at the baby in his arms with an expression other than a glare.

"She's been wanting to cry, but the fool proof method to stop such actions seems to be
working" the demon said, but not in his condescending or annoyed tone they all knew and
'loved'.

Did Damian actually sound...happy?

"This is bound to be such a tragedy" Jason pointed out, "He clearly has a crush on that girl,
but he's too emotionally constipated to admit it or likely do anything about it. When that
Stark starts dating some high class somebody, its gonna break Damian's heart, and we'll have
to suffer his wrath"

Steph yanked on the white streak in his black hair.

"You don't know that! Look at him, he's talking to her like a human being. Thats progress!"
she pointed out, which Tim acknowledged was already a big thing for Damian. Dancing with
her at a school dance and bringing her home were also things that were out of the demon's
normal actions. Meaning Jason had a point too, Damian had it bad.

Down below, Damian and the Stark were discussing point totals Rosa likely lost for the day,
which weren't all that many to begin with. What caught Tim's attention and almost made him
drop his phone was the fact that they said THEIR points, meaning...

"Holy shit" Dick exclaimed, "I knew he was keeping something from us. When I did the
assignment we did it in groups of two"

"Oh yeah?" Jason replied, "What excuse did you give your partner when you destroyed your
baby?"

Dick pouted, "I didn't. B bought a new one and he hacked it to pass off as Willy"

Of course he did..

"Are we just going to ignore the fact that Damian is acting as a father to a robot child who is
also possibly the Stark's?" Barbara asked, eyes wide as they heard the Stark down below
reluctantly singing a Russian lullaby to the baby (they only knew it was Russian because
Cass said so).

While they all silently freaked out over the possible revelation, Damian was listening
contently down below, watching as this so called Rosa slowly closed her eyelids and went to
sleep.

Damian basically had a kid with a Stark...

Holy shit.
If Bruce ever found out, that robot baby would be burned without Damian's school grade in
mind. It was a good thing he and Selina were busy planning baby room things back upstairs.
Still, just to be on the safe side, Tim would have to replace some of the security footage of
the Bat Cave that HE had installed.

Bruce had no access to it, but one could never be too safe.

So Tim laid there on his stomach for another half hour, watching as the Stark finished her
lullaby, to which Damian reported the successful results as if that had been a mere
experiment.

They both proceeded to read The Art of War to the sleeping baby to ensure it would sleep
longer, and once Titus, Batcow, and Alfred the Cat took positions around the sleeping baby in
its little baby carrier, Tim was surprised the call had not ended.

He'd assumed they both had to work on the project together and this was just a call for such
things, but the two teens went on to talk for another half hour about anything and everything
revolving around school matters to talks of people Tim did not know.

Like all his siblings, Tim had assumed Damian only spoke to Jon and now maybe even the
Stark, but the way they spoke so easily about these so called Yelena, Ned, and Peter...it was
almost like the demon had friends.

Damian didn't believe in friends though.

Its was at the end of the call that Tim and his siblings almost jumped out of the ledge they
were on as the Stark said, "Well, I'll call again tomorrow, Dami. If Rosa cries too much
tonight wake me up to help"

Dami!? DAMI! What the fuck was that!

Damian chuckled....ACTUALLY CHUCKLED. It was a singular chuckle but it counted!

"I can handle the infant for a weekend, beloved" the teen replied, which caused Dick to flail
around excitedly.

BELOVED!?

Maybe thats how teens insulted one another now a days...right?

Brooklyn Stark laughed on the other end of the line, "I know you can, I have never doubted
it..well, except for that first time you tried to change Rosa's diaper and ended up doing so
backwards"

Was that teasing?

Damian did not get angry or defensive as Tim was expecting, and even thought he couldn't
see the demon's face, his calm tone was enough to realize that the Stark may very well be...a
friend of his.
"Perhaps you must recall the time you accidentally did the same thing?" Damian teased back.

Ok.

Maybe they had been too negligent of Damian lately...and perhaps...Tim's advantages over
Damian no longer existed after all.

The thought sent a wave of chills down his spine.

"At leas now we both hold the record for fastest diaper change in class. Together we truly are
unbeatable" the Stark said.

It was the simple everyday word of 'together' that made all of them freeze, even Cass.

The words 'together' and 'Damian' NEVER mixed.

Yet now, when Damian did not even seem to bat an eyelash at the world use, it suddenly felt
like reality was warping into something scary and different. Into the impossible.

Thankfully, the rest of their sanity was preserved when Damian ended the call, minutes
before Jon came flying into the batcave with a baby of his own.

Suddenly, the once peaceful environment full of causal talk, war, and lullabies turned into
something more chaotic as Jon's appearance made the two tired teens launch into a talk about
their robots like they were actual offspring.

While Damian did not insult Rosa, he did not seem completely happy about the arrangement.
As for the kryptonian, he was beyond himself with happiness at parenting a cild with that so
called Yelena. If Tim recalled correctly, Yelena was another Red Room assassin, one Bruce
had met when the Midtown bomb incident occurred.

In seconds, even Tim could tell Jon was infatuated with her. He even shared the story of how
he told his family about the baby robot when he came home that first day. Jon had carelessly
ran into his home, excitedly announcing he had a baby with Yelena. Tim wished he could've
been there to see when his mom thought her son meant Yelena was pregnant and almost
killed him.

Even Damian smiled with wicked delight at the story.

Now as the two teens sat down, with babies on their laps, dressed like fathers, Dick made his
sentiments known that he hoped one day they would all be able to witness those two teens be
so scarily domestic in both their futures.

Tim wanted them both to be happy, and some part of him acknowledged Damian had been
through so much, already chose to leave the League behind, all for the sake of being a better
person. Perhaps he too deserved a good future to come.

If there was anything positive Bruce had taught them, was that no matter where one came
from, each individual had the potential to become something great. He'd brought in orphans,
rich and poor, and turned them into vigilantes that could make the world better.
Maybe Damian had been chasing for that better recently, and perhaps it was not a bad thing
after all.

Of course that did not mean the old Damian was gone for good...

At night, Jason had been stupid enough to try and steal Rosa to try and give Damian a
fatherly heart attack, thinking the demon had gone soft. It was an hour later than Jason burst
into Tim's room to recount what had happened, waking up a grumpy Stephanie in the process.

Damian had been laying like a vampire with the baby beside him in bed, Titus by their feet
and Alfred the cat curled up with the robot. When Jason reached out for the sleeping baby,
Damian's hand has shot forward to grab Jason's wrist in a deadly grip.

In the darkness of the room, Damian had glared up at his brother and said menacingly,
"Hands off"

Jason had been a smart lad and ran out of there as quick as his legs could carry him.

But that experience helped Tim realize that Damian was not made weaker or softer by his
little crush, but possibly made stronger in some ways.

Perhaps he was finally worthy of being heir to Wayne Enterprises...and perhaps he was ready
to accomplish much more than that.

Holy shit...he never thought he'd see the day that jealousy for Damian would resurface.
 The Stark Family
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Brooklyn POV-

At the beginning of what Brooklyn liked to call her 'new life', the one thing she'd struggled
with more than anything was to fill she shoes of being a Stark.

Often times, it felt impossible. Everywhere she went, Brooklyn saw statues, posters, even
action figures of her dad...a hero of the world and a symbol of hope. Someone larger than
life.

When she was at the SHIELD facility, Brooklyn always walked in to see the portrait of her
grandfather, Howard Stark, staring back at her.

He'd been a founder of SHIELD, a legend in his own right.

Brook's mom was practically a god sent gift at Stark Industries, and one of the most powerful
and respected women in the world too.

Originally, Brook thought being a Stark would be impossible, but over time she'd grown
comfortable walking down the halls of the company that would one day be her own. She
already knew how Stark Industries worked, knew how to manage it thanks to mom and dad.

SHIELD had become a comfort of its own as well, and though she was still the
granddaughter of one of the founders, Brook was just seen as a rapidly improving agent that
had earned her respect though training.

So as she walked down the halls of Stark industries with her dad, both dressed in work
appropriate clothes that made Brook feel like an adult, the teen realized maybe being part of
this family was in her blood.

Dad had brought her in today because they had some documents and planning to get done for
the Stark Expo that would be held in a few months.

It was no small event. It was an exposition located in Queens meant to bring minds together
from around the world, and combine them to try and develop new inventions to improve
quality of life for mankind and the world in the future.

A few years back, the first Stark Expo held by dad had been ruined by some idiot named Ivan
Vanko and the ex-CEO of Hammer industries. Brooklyn had seen it all on TV when it
happened, as military issued suits meant to defy Tony Stark turned against the government,
causing 23 deaths and over 200 billion dollars in property damage.

This time around, dad wanted the event to go down without a hitch, to truly serve its purpose
to better the world now that the government wasn't breathing down his neck trying to get his
suits for themselves.

Now they had planned guests from all over the world coming, including an exposition on
Wakandan technology, including some nano tech dad had been working on with Princess
Shuri.

As the father-daughter duo walked down the halls, Brooklyn no longer gawked when she was
handed over documents in passing to inspect, nor did she fail to see dad's smile whenever she
gave instructions back to passing staff.

"You're doing good at this stuff" dad mused as they walked, hands in his vest pockets.

"I still have a long way to go" Brook admitted, "I'm no Tim Drake yet"

Brooklyn tried not to let much of her exhaustion show as she smiled back up at her dad,
attempting not to laugh at his insistence to wear causal t-shirts under his suit. Mom had
admitted such a fact drove her mad sometimes, but the company as well as the world had
come to accept such a fashion sense.

As for Brook, she couldn't help but follow in her father's footsteps. Though mom had
provided a black pencil skirt and matching blazer, Brooklyn had taken the liberty to wear a
simple t-shit under it. It was not nearly as casual as dad's, but it was Avengers themed, which
made the staff here smile at least.

"I'm nowhere near as smart as Peter, but I'm trying my best" Brook added tiredly, shifting
some of the folders in hand to walk more comfortably as they made their way to dad's private
labs.

Tony was greeted by all who passed by, some of which greeted him as more than just boss.
They all smiled at Brooklyn fondly now, knew her by name and treated her like their heiress,
and though Harley wasn't here, they too often found themselves glad to have him around.

Harley was a generally shy boy, but when it came to technology and inventions, he was well
involved with the scientists and engineers here. They'd come to enjoy his company and ideas,
and Brook knew most hoped Harley would one day choose to work here when he grew up.

The world was starting to get to know them as the 'Stark Siblings' since they'd had to do a lot
more public work together. In some ways Brooklyn was glad to not be alone in the spotlight
anymore, even if dad insisted she'd been doing a great job.

But that wasn't the only thing dad would be congratulating her for today.

As they passed the intern offices (of which many talented students from all over New York
now worked at), Brooklyn got to wave at Peter, who was busy in a private cubicle testing out
some new and stronger webs of his own making.

Dad saw the exchange and seemed to smile and wince at it at the same time.

What was with him and Peter lately? Dad had been acting very kindly to Peter, then
completely did a 180 and decided to be strict and reprimanding. In some way, it made Brook
a little less jealous of Peter, but on the other she was worried there was something going on.

Once they passed by the offices, dad said a little too casually, "You've been doing well with
teamwork lately, even Fury is impressed"

"Well" Brooklyn said, "Patrolling the city has been very helpful with that, not just for me but
for Yelena as well. Plus it takes pressure off Pete of being the sole person responsible for
Queens"

Dad clapped her shoulder a few times, always careful of her covered back.

"You're doing good kid, especially putting your discomforts aside by being around McGlare
and Bite-sized Superman. Putting the safety of the city above your hatred for the Wayne is a
strength even I don't think I possess" dad said humorously.

Brook knew dad watched the news, that he was aware that multiple mysterious figures were
seen at scenes of crimes, including a mysterious girl and Robin in the same place. She'd
expected dad to be mad, to proclaim they patrol in different areas...which dad HAD said, but
it seemed that with all the stuff going on with the Joker and weapons, even he could see the
need for more heroes.

Tony's only rule when it came to patrols is that she not speak to the Wayne unless absolutely
necessary, but somehow Peter and Yelena being there helped ease dad's mind most days. That
did not mean he did not spend days complaining of the Waynes, even when he'd teamed up
with them to rescue Brook and Damian.

It occurred to Brooklyn that dad was great person, they had really bonded and built trust
between one another by now...and it killed her to keep Damian a secret from him. Not only
was Brook friends with Dami, but now they were something more.

If he ever found out...would dad disown her? Would he be disappointed at last?

This family was all Brooklyn had, and she cared too much about her dad to ever want to hurt
him with disappointment. Even so, she couldn't help but be selfish about this one thing,
because Damian held a special place in her heart as well.

For now, Brook just relished in being alive, of getting to spend time with her dad to make up
for lost years.

He'd been hugging her more lately because of that close call to death, even when Brooklyn
had never mentioned Ivan had sentenced her to die. The texted whenever they could too,
which mostly consisted of dad making her laugh with one joke or another. Sometimes he
even texted Yelena as well, not that they made a truce during the holidays and dad was now
convinced her sestra wasn't about to kill her.

Maybe having Yelena fight against Ivan helped too.

Either way, Brooklyn was relishing in the peace around her, but also in the rightness of the
path her life was taking. Even with the alien abilities thing...
Once on the floor of the lab, which was quiet thanks to its privacy and security. It was then
that Brook was finally able to slouch a bit, which made dad laugh quite a bit.

"You do look like a future CEO, got that from Pepper"he said humorously.

Scrunching up her nose, Brooklyn replied with as much humor as he held, "Oh, yes. One of
the many traits I inherited from mom"

Tony fake teared up, "I remember when you were born and we held you for the first time. It
was so emotional. Now look at you, a true little troublemaker"

Both of them clearly wished that had been the actual scenario, but even if it was just a joke,
Brooklyn let herself imagine that she'd been with Pepper and Tony all her life...if only for this
conversation.

Brook shoved her dad playfully.

"Yeah, the troublemaking I got from you"

Tony tipped his head back in a roaring laugh, and as the two made their way inside their
private lab, they chose to stick together for once. Brooklyn's project on updates for her
gauntlets or Barbara Wayne's brace did not need immediate attention, so she moved to sit
with dad as he worked on a new suit.

"You know, mom told you no more suits"

Dad stared down at the innovation of nanotech of his own design, then back up at her with a
raised brow.

"She did, but you know better than most that we need defenses more than ever" he replied,
not the least bit guilty on the unfinished scraps of metal that were labeled Mark L. His fiftieth
suit.

Truth was, dad wasn't wrong in Brook's mind.

There was a reason why Brooklyn was starting to really get immersed in all this kind of
work, not just for the company and her future in it, but also because something was being set
in motion out there, and Brook needed to be prepared for it more than ever.

Dad often spoke of their little tinkering as placing a suit of armor around THEIR world. To
keep Harley, mom, and their friends and teammates safe. Tony had been honest to Brooklyn
about that, mostly because he saw her trying to become stronger and smarter everyday.

Not only were they trying to keep their world safe, but also one another.

"I suppose so" Brooklyn said as she grabbed a few stay tools, "I think mom is just afraid your
making of new suits means a huge battle is coming, rather than it being a prevention safety
method"
"I think your mom thinks I enjoy fighting or maybe she thinks I enjoy the ego boost, but I'm
just trying to end the fights...so we finally get some peace where we can marry and live
peacefully" Tony said, "Though I will admit, being Iron Man is who I am, its my job to be
strong enough to deal with anything that comes our way"

Dad looked to the holograms before them, where news feeds and SHIELD intel was being
currently updated on display for anything to do with the Joker and the assassins.

Neither of those were found today.

There was no trace of the Red Room or the League. Both factions as well as all the other
guilds had gone completely underground, even with some of their own incarcerated but
refusing to talk.

The other screens, those closer to Brooklyn, had a completely different mission. It was a 24
hour tracking system she and dad had set up with Natasha to try and find Uncle Banner. He'd
been gone for months without a word, and the gods that he'd left with were nowhere to be
found either.

Their only solace was that the Hulk was practically indestructible, so Uncle Bruce should be
relatively safe if he went to Asgard. Maybe Thor convinced Bruce to help out with something
back home?....hopefully that was the case.

As dad blasted some rock classics and Brooklyn finished some paperwork and propositions
that needed approval, she couldn't help but stare at the photos propped on his work desk.
Most were of him and mom, some with the original Avengers after missions in what was
once the Avengers tower.

More recent ones depicted Brook with her parents at family game nights, there was even one
of Family day with the four Starks in one place, of their first Thanksgiving, Christmas, and
New Years.

Brooklyn couldn't help but smile at those memories fondly.

There were others though, that the teen had not imagined would be there. Two in particular
caught her eye. The first was of a younger version of dad in fancy getup with both his
parents. There was the familiar face of Howard Stark from the portrait on all SHIELD
facilities. Then there was Maria Stark, a young beauty of golden hair and fair skin whom
Brook had seen portraits of thanks to the Maria Foundation of Stark Industries.

None of them looked particularly happy in that photo that as mean to look more like an old
victorian portrait. Yet dad still held a grudge over 'Great Uncle' Bucky who'd taken their lives
against his will. Her only hope was that one day, that conflict would be resolved not only to
bring dad peace, but to quell whatever animosity still resided in him and Grandpa Steve.

The other portrait was of younger dad with someone Brook also knew from SHIELD
portraits. Another founder of SHIELD.

Peggy Carter.
Brook had read up all about her during the break. She was a woman of unimaginable
character and strength, someone Brooklyn found herself admiring alongside Yelena.

Dad was smiling in that photo, clutching to the woman dressed in a military suit full of
medals, hair styled as if she were still in the 60s. She too was smiling down at a young Tony
Stark.

It was odd looking at the photo in such a prized spot, considering Grandpa Steve had been in
love with that woman during WW2.

"Aside from my nanny, Peggy was the only person that really knew and payed attention to
me" dad said suddenly. Picking up the frame so Brook could get a better look.

When Brooklyn looked up at dad's face, he was staring at the portrait with adoration. Without
taking his eyes off the frozen moment in time, he added, "You probably haven't heard any of
the drama regarding Peggy yet, but when I was a boy, there were nasty rumors that she was
my mom. Dad and Peggy were close, always spending time together and building SHIELD
from the ground...those rumors followed me all my life, saying I was born out of wedlock"

Now that Brooklyn hadn't heard.

It was with some hesitation, not wanting to open up any old wounds, that Brook asked "But
Maria was your mom, why didn't she say anything?"

Dad chuckled lightly.

"I once asked her if it was true" dad admitted, "She never gave me an answer, and I never had
the balls to get my DNA tested before Peggy died a few years ago. As far as I'm concerned,
Maria was my mom, but Peggy was my aunt...someone I always looked up to"

Brooklyn had a horrifying second of realization. If Peggy truly was dad's true mother, then
Brook was a descendant of two SHIELD founders, one of which loved Grandpa Steve.

As if that wasn't weird enough for a family tree, a sudden figure phased through the lab wall,
none other than her robot brother Vision. He had to be the weirdest of them all.

Though Vision is a highly intelligent machine, he still dressed modestly in a casual sweater
and dress pants, even when he could not feel the cold of the outdoors.

She greeted him with a wave, a common formality between them now.

It was during the break that Brooklyn realized most of the weariness that she'd felt towards
Vision all this time was not because of his machine status, it was because of that sense of
familiarity between them...or more importantly, the stone-like alien artifact on his forehead.

The tesseract and Loki's staff were already confirmed to be of similar power sources by dad.
Now that Brook knew her powers came from the tesseract and Vision's from the staff...she
could almost feel a connection between them...and Wanda.

Whatever gave them their abilities was similar...and the three could feel it.
Though Wanda still kept her distance from Brook in fear of reading her past again, now that
Brook's powers were under much more control, they could feel the pull of familiarity at times
when they were in the same room.

It wasn't exactly a good feeling, but at least they had something in common, powers none of
them really liked but now learned to live with.

Dad had been spending most of the break and the days following it still trying to find ways to
remove Brooklyn's abilities while she trained to control them better. So far, he hadn't found a
solution because it seemed like the alien 'magic' was clinging to her, like bacteria to its host.

At least now Brooklyn could rest easy knowing she wasn't a danger to everyone, that she
wouldn't light the whole building on fire...not when she had her anchor in mind.

Brook found the fire sometimes felt like a coil that got wound up over time, threatening to
explode. Thankfully, being around Damian, even if it was just sitting next to one another at
school helped unwind that coil a lot.

As Vision walked closer, she could feel that glowing stone on his forehead almost calling out
to her, like it wanted to talk to the abilities in her fire. It did not hurt, but it was a prominent
feeling.

"Mr. Stark" Vision announced, "Ms. Potts and Mr. Harley are down at her office wondering if
you two are free for lunch"

Dad smiled, clapping Vision on the shoulder.

"I'm always free for Pepper and my son, tell them we'll be down in a second"

Vision left to do just that (Brook didn't even get to question why he was here and not the
compound), and as her 'brother' phased through the left wall, Brooklyn couldn't help but feel
that similar power within her go dormant once more.

Through their trip with mom and Harley to go get donuts after lunch, Brooklyn's mind
pondered on what could possibly be coursing through her veins. It was still scary to think
about, and Ivan had not given SHIELD any information on the experiments done on her to be
able to answer that question.

The only thing that pushed that fear back was spending time with her family, and texting
Damian to see if Rosa was doing ok.

Once they got back to the compound later in the day, she got a text back from Damian as
soon as she excited the limousine with her family.

Rosa is behaving. My brothers seem to have found her interesting, but rest assured, their
attempts to kidnap our robot have been futile.

Our....what a nice word.

Brook could only imagine what that was like. In some ways, Brooklyn had learned what the
Wayne kids were all like just by listening to Damian's tales of them. It occurred to the Stark
that if they didn't hate her so much...maybe she wouldn't have minded their company at all.

After all, she was more than used to having a crazy family of her own.

As soon as Brook and her family entered the Avenger's lounge, the teen tried not to chuckle
when she saw Uncle Sam and Uncle Scott trying to beat one another in a Wii boxing game.

They really just looked like flaying chickens.

On the couch, Yelena and Fury were seated with a scrutinizing eye, shouting proper boxing
instructions to the men like they were their trainers.

The sight of Yelena and Fury agreeing on things and getting along was not uncommon. Fury
had warmed up to Yelena much faster than he had with Brooklyn. In some ways, the Stark
was glad they were getting along, because the teen could see in Yelena's eyes that perhaps
now she viewed Director Fury as a leader.

Fury himself never showed favoritism or fond emotions to anyone, but over the break, it had
become clear he had a soft spot for not just the Avengers, but what the SHIELD staff an
agents had come to call 'Fury's Angels'.

It all started with a training simulation with all three ex-assassins, which thanks to the teens'
new teamwork skills, had gone by without a hitch. That had originally earned them the title
of 'Charlie's Angels' (which Brook assumed was a reference for something), but once Fury
had come down to 'congratulate' them, the term quickly changed.

Brook did not mind it, she cared very much about her sestras, and being a team with them in
training did not sound bad at all.

Speaking of sestras....

Once the blonde caught sight of the Stark, Brook and Yelena quickly went in search for
Natasha to bid their farewells because of the mission their eldest sestra was leaving for in a
few minutes.

They knew better than to worry for her safety, but they still liked to make sure she took all
weapons necessary.

Though they were both normally polite enough to knock, the two teens were too lost talking
about Yelena's new training privileges and Brooklyn's progress on the Stark Expo to even
think about privacy.

As soon as Yelena opened the door, the two teens froze in place.

There, in the middle of the room, were Nat and Grandpa Steve dressed for their mission in
their usual suits, but they were not talking or strategizing before a mission... they were
kissing.
The lock of lips stopped abruptly when they heard the girls come in, and while Steve looked
red-faced and ready to die of embarrassment, Nat's just looked annoyed.

The two teens really should've ran for their lives, it was the sensible thing to do. But maybe
their sleep deprivation made them bold and stupid, because they both smirked at the adults.

It was not meat to mean malice of any kind, in fact, Brook suspected Yelena was as happy
about this pairing as she was. At very last, those two had decided to make a move. Perhaps
this had been going on in secret for mere minutes, perhaps days, but it certainly made
Brooklyn feel better about not being the only one keeping a secret relationship.

Either way, the two took a page out of Tanya's book and clapped at the Avengers.

"Even though I don't often approve of relationships, I must say...this is a long coming" Yelena
said, Russian accent heavy as she said that last part.

Steve's ears blushed harder at the words, moving to sit by Nat's bed where he covered his face
in embarrassment.

Brooklyn couldn't help her excitement at something she'd been hoping for quite some time.
Natasha had been Brook's savior, and once the teen got wrapped up in this world, Nat had
always been there as a guiding hand.

Brook wanted Nat to be happy, to feel the joy the Stark felt at taking the risk to accept
emotions.

Grandpa Steve was also a huge part of Brook's life, someone who had show her compassion
from the very beginning. He was a man of many sacrifices, one who's kindness made training
bearable some days.

They both deserved a win.

Instead of teasing like Yelena had done, Brooklyn just smiled at the two, hoping to convey
her contentment over their decision. The two teens swore they'd keep this to themselves until
the two were ready to share it with the team (more like Brook suggested it and after smirking
like a cat Yelena had agreed).

Nat pointed at both of them menacingly, "Not a word girls, I don't want Tony or anyone else
getting involved in my business"

The two girls gave Nat an old Russian military salute.

As they left to go back to the lobby, their well wishes for the mission long forgotten,
Brooklyn couldn't help but say over her shoulder, "Should I start calling you Grandma Nat?"

As soon as they heard the heavy footsteps of Natasha approaching, the two teens rushed out
the room, jumping over side tables, bounding off walls, and running with all their lives to the
living room area where everyone was.
 The two acted like nothing had occurred as they settled down, leaving Nat no choice but to
end her pursuit and the two girls to hide their giggles until she, Steve, and Sam left for their
overnight mission.

They'd surely pay for that later, but for now, even Yelena was happy and the course of events
that had just occurred.

Steve and Nat were together....maybe. Brook had kissed someone before being in a
committed relationship before, but the two adults had looked comfortable enough to suggest
that wasn't their first lock of lips. They had been acting awful suspicious lately too now that
Brook thought about it...ever since everyone teased them when they walked under a
mistletoe, parting ways despite the demands they fulfill tradition.

Later on, Brooklyn had found out people were supposed to kiss under the plant if caught
under it. Guess they accomplished that lock of lips after all.

Either way, Brooklyn couldn't wait to go to Wakanda to tell Great Uncle Bucky.He'd surely
find the change of events quite amusing. The man may be generally quiet and polite, but
when it came to teasing Steve, he was the founding master.

In any case, Brooklyn settled comfortably between her mom and dad on the couch, watching
Uncle Scott and Uncle Rhodey try their chances at another virtual game. Yelena and Harley
took spots before them on the floor, ready to tease.

The teen basked in the feeling of peace, of knowing there were no reported cases of alien
weapons, that feelings between people were blooming into something better, and that her
family was safe and sound.

When Damian sent a photo of Rosa surrounded by Damian's black and white cat, and a
serious Titus, she discretely smiled at the sight and sent back a promise to chat tonight as they
often did.

It was always a great way to end the day after all.

Chapter End Notes

Don't worry everyone, you'll get to find out how Nat and Steve started dating in future
chapters! (that was quite the day) But I hope you are as excited as Brook is!

Fair warning, some chapters turned out to be quite long! Keep a look out for that. Hope
you're enjoying the story so far and the period of peace that may not last forever *insert
evil laughter*.

Enjoy my amazing readers!

 Queens' Police
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Brooklyn POV-

Patrols in the afternoon had become increasingly easier this week, all thanks to a little
technology, which couldn't have come at a better time.

Brook saw online that parents often had something called 'baby monitors' to track their
sleeping children, so she'd bought some and installed them in her spare room (which aside
from being 'Damian's room' was now also the baby room when he came after school).

With a little help from Ned, the feed from the cameras was not connected to Gil, which in
turn was connected to Brooklyn's suit. Now the teen could use the screen displayed inside her
mask to not only see but hear the robots in the spare room.

Since that incredible discovery, the team had been able to leave the babies asleep at Brook's
apartment (with Ned proving tech support form her office of course), while the rest went out
on patrols together.

Today happened to be one of those days where the idea of a baby monitor was like a miracle,
because there was a large robbery downtown that might require more than just two of them to
stop.

None of the robbers had alien weapons, but there were too many for just a pair of the teens to
deal with successfully. So they left their babies on Brook's spare bed and suited up.

While Jon flew Yelena, Robin and Spider-man swung from building to building, and
Brooklyn tested out the new hand compartments of her suit to try and 'fly' using her flames,
the team kept to the afternoon shadows.

It was their first time in a long while working as a team, and Brooklyn couldn't help but be
slightly excited by that fact.

They eventually arrived atop a large skyscraper, able to see the vehicle pursuit, the
helicopters above, and news cameras that were already there. Shame, usually they were able
to avoid the news, but it seemed today would be another of those days dealing with exposure.

They were all dressed in their suits, masks on and identities hidden, but it was always a
bargain to deal with the news and cameras.

Another issue of things like these being televised, where that civilians loved to hang out on
the sidewalks to catch a glimpse of the criminals despite the danger, which made the teens'
job much harder than it needed to be.
The large vans responsible for this spectacle were headed to an intersection busy with cars.
They had to stop it before a large car collision began. The teens had very little time to
brainstorm a proper plan, but the adrenaline of a dangerous situation always seemed to help
their brains run a thousand miles an hour.

After a brief plan that involved movie references from Spider-man and some instructions on
tactical uses of specific skills from Brook and Damian, they all made their way down the
large building, with Jon and Brooklyn landing first in the middle of the busy road.

Six vehicles were speeding their way towards the teens, with a ramming trash truck at its
front clearing the way of cars.

Though most civilians had decided to abandon their vehicles as soon as they heard of the
danger, others remained inside, which is why Yelena was dropped off by Damian and Peter
atop one of those cars, ushering the people out.

No one seemed to want to argue with the masked person in a white suit, especially when she
had a large bo staff made of vibranium (little gift from Suri) in hand. Yelena hopped from car
to car to get citizens out of the way, and just before the battering ram truck caught up to her,
Yelena pushed off with her weapon towards the safety of the side walk.

Now that the civilians were out fo the way and the ramming truck was doing their work for
them, Jon and Brooklyn got ready for their part of the plan. It was a risky move, especially
with so many civilians off on the sidelines, but the Stark had to put her trust in Jon for this.

The person in the ramming truck didn't seem to care that there were people in the middle of
the road, the masked man sped up as he pushed all cars out of the way while his buddies
continued to laugh and fire their guns behind him in their own vans.

As soon as the last car was cleared out of the way, Brooklyn asked GIL to open the metal arm
pieces of her suit.

Focusing on her anchor, the boy hanging off the side of a nearby building, Brook closed her
eyes and let the warmth seep into her hands. When she felt the flames on her palms rise,
Brook focused on the breathing exercises she learned from Xavier. As long as she kept calm,
the flames wouldn't expand past her wishes.

She left them pool around hands like smoke, let said bright and fiery smoke drip from her
fingertips and gather by her feet. Jon did not curse or back away once Brook opened her
glowing eyes that lit up her mask like a beacon, he was only staring ahead at the incoming
vans, awaiting his turn.

Sneaking one last reassuring look at Robin hanging off the side of a building to her left,
Brooklyn nodded to herself and raised her arms out, letting the slithers of fire rise up to her
palms and shoot out to the wheels of the incoming vehicles.

In seconds, the rubber went up in flames, and the vans quickly lost speed and control.
Screams from those in the vehicles and the public filled the space, but a series of gunshots to
the sky from Yelena kept people from running into the road.

Once the rubber had burned through, Brooklyn really had to put all her focus into stopping
the flames from her hands. It took an agonizing while, but eventually, the teen's hands cooled
and the flames around her dissipated.

The problem was, Brook had yet to learn how to put out flames out of her reach, which is
why Jon rose up a few feet off the ground, red cape fluttering in the wind, face illuminated by
the flames before them.

He took a deep breath and when he exhaled, frosted winds rushed to the burning wheels,
getting rid of the fire, and leaving the cars useless, unable to move.

The teens had chosen this approach to not injure the criminals within, to make sure the
vehicles would not hurt the citizens around them. Chasing them could've caused too much
damage, stopping the vehicles was the best way to prevent all that.

Seconds after the ice worked its wonders, Damian and Peter swooped in from the buildings
beside them.

As Robin made quick work of getting the criminals out of the vehicles, Spider-man quickly
shot out webs to make them truly immobile, all thirty eight of them.

While Brook and Spider-man busied themselves to making sure none of the criminals moved
from their immobilized spots sitting in the middle of the road, Robin and Jon quickly took
out all the money and weapons inside the vehicles.

Some of the remaining criminals tried to take out grenades and guns then, sending the public
into panic. Jon was quick to encase the weapons in ice, while Damian guarded the stolen
money from any civilian that thought those couple of millions of dollars could easily become
theirs.

Yelena kept citizens at bay through it all, no doubt having to work on her social skills and
kindness Grandpa Steve is always going on about.

With such an important load, the teens had to wait until the police came, hoping the cameras
from the civilians and news channels, as well as the approaching police officers themselves,
would not know who was under the masks.

Brook had only seconds to seize the burning on her eyes before the police arrived, led by
Tanya's father, Sheriff Bennet. Cassie's father was right next to the Sheriff, but like all his
comrades, thankfully none of them were pointing their weapons at the teens themselves.

The Stark had never held an encounter with the police during patrols, neither had her team.
Up until now, the team had been nothing but shadows, the public only able to predict Spider-
man had some new allies.

All that changed on that day.

The cops made quick work of getting to the criminals, Cassie's dad taking the money from
Damian while they were at it. Because the police was having such a hard time picking up all
the frozen weapons, Jon and Spider-man made quick work to carry it all to the police cars.

It was after that, once all the criminals were inside a cop car, that Brooklyn experienced
something odd.

The people on the sidewalks, up on the buildings, some even blocks away...began to clap. As
the cheering got louder and the people began to scream praises and kind words of thanks, the
team of teens moved to stand beside one another, staring at everyone in shock.

Such surprise only increased as the masses of cops began joining in on the clapping as
well...all for them.

Out of all the teens, Spider-man was the only one used to the praise from the citizens of
Queens, so he whispered to the team, "Just wave"

They all followed his lead, even Yelena.

The crowds seemed pleased with that action.

More phones began taking photos, their flashes something Brook was long used to thanks to
her Stark life. More cameras and reporters piled up on the sidelines behind the police tape, all
clearly wanting to talk to them.

Brooklyn was almost awestruck by the warm thanks from the public, unused to being
thanked like this.

When Sheriff Bennet walked over to them, Brook tried not to hide her face further, trusting
her metal mask was enough disguise. The man spoke into the walkie-talkie on the side of his
jacket, spouting some code Brook did not understand, but when he addressed the gathered
teens, he spoke to them as equals.

"I don't know who most of you are, but on behalf of the police force, I want to thank you for
stopping those guys. They shot down two of my cops back at the bank, and if it wasn't for
you men and women, this chase might've ended up in even more casualties" Mr. Bennet said,
moving to shake each of their hands, which sent the public cheers of a louder extent.

"Its our job, no need to thank us si-I mean, Sheriff Bennet. We're here to help" Spider-man
replied, voice deep and distorted by his mask.

Brook had been too busy speaking with the Sheriff shortly after that, discussing what had
occured for an official police report, to notice Jon had disappeared from her side. It wasn't
until Damian cursed under his breath that Brook noted he was already by the sidelines in
front of dozens of cameras.

The team excused themselves from the Sheriff, and as they neared Jon, they heard him say
into the microphones, "We're a team with Spider-man of course! Keeping Queens safe!"

Oh great, looked like someone didn't understand the concept of secrecy....

Brook had been planning to tell the team to scatter once all was in order here, but now it
seemed they would have to deal with the media.

There was something completely different about being in front of cameras as a masked
vigilante rather than a Stark.

It made her nervous, which is probably why Brook had let Jon continue to talk for them,
something her teammates clearly agreed with.

One of the reporters shoved her mic forward, asking "A team? What can we call you, the
heroes of Queens?"

Jon looked sideways at the team around him, blue eyes glistening behind his red domino
mask for sure.

"Hm...Dynasty" he said with a softened honesty, "You can call us Dynasty"

The crowds went wild then, shouting the word over and over, letting the information travel
across the ever increasing masses. It was like an anthem, a solidifying moment in Brooklyn's
life.

No longer was she just a silent and unseen vigilante with her friends.

Now she was part of the Dynasty...the Avengers' Dynasty.

As the cameras flashed before them, Brooklyn turned to see Robin was calm, clearly
displeased wit the public attention, but he stood beside Jon with unfaltering grace.

Another reporter's voice spoke above the others, pointing her mic Jon's way as he asked in a
heavy New York accent, "Do you all have any hero names?"

Hero.

Was Brooklyn a hero now?

It was odd to think about considering the teen always thought she wouldn't become a hero
UNTIL she became an Avenger. Until the title of hero was GIVEN to her by someone like
Fury, not the people.

It was a terrifying responsibility, a thrilling moment of her life, but most of all...it made
Brooklyn something more than just an ex-assassin now.

That felt great.

Jon waved a the cameras and the screaming women on the sidelines, but turned to the male
reporter and said with outmost confidence, even when the team rarely discussed 'hero names'
amongst one another, "Well, you obviously know Spider-man. Batman lent us Robin for
some group learning so you must know him as well"
Damian crossed his arms, refusing to smile at the cameras while Peter waved and did simple
flips when asked by the crowds.

Jon then gestured to Yelena, who was probably rolling her eyes behind that mask of hers, but
she did not back away when Jon placed an arm around her figure, introducing the blonde
with joy.

"This is Crimson Widow!"

One look towards Yelena, and Brook knew that name had not been chosen by the blonde, yet
she wasn't comparing about it. Yelena just shrugged, clearly more awestruck by the fact that
people were actually cheering for her.

Jon took that silence as confirmation to move on, slowly levitating off the gourd (to the
amusement of the crowds) as he explained, "I'm Superboy and this one" he said landing
beside Brooklyn, "She's Firestar"

Firestar!?

Brook quickly whispered into Jon's ear, careful to keep her smile on for the cameras, "Why
am I Firestar? Where did you even get that idea?"

"I've put a lot of thought into our superhero beginnings ok" Jon whispered back, keeping arm
arm around her shoulders, "You have fire, and you shine like a star when you use it. It fits"

Well...it wasn't awful. Certainly better than Red Room Killer.

Brook had no time to debate it, not as a reporter shoved a mic close to Brook as asked,
"Many witnesses say you used fire against the criminals today. Are you a mutant? Is
Superboy?"

Jon chuckled, "I'm acquainted to Superman! I believe the proper term for me would be alien
but not the evil kind, promise"

Brooklyn tried not to shake her head at Jon's boldness, especially when it earned him more
love and swooning from the cameras and the civilians.

As for Brook, the teen realized she had a choice.

She knew what things were like for mutants now, that the world viewed them as villains,
because in the eyes of the media, they were only seen as criminals. Sure, there were mutant
superheroes, but the X-men worked in the shadows. Either people thought they were myths,
or thought their secrecy was a threat.

The mutants lived in hiding, secluded and afraid...meanwhile Brooklyn was being adored and
cherished by her abilities as a hero.

Maybe the world did not need a girl cursed by alien technology, maybe what it truly needed
was a public figure to give a new interpretation to what it meant to be a mutant, that
differences could sometimes be used for good.
Perhaps that way, more mutants in hiding would choose to use their powers for good, then
maybe the non-mutants would quell their hate.

So she looked straight into the camera, turned on her voice distortion, and said with as much
confidence as possible, "I AM a mutant, one who hopes to do a lot of good for this city with
my team"

It was a bold move, one that sent the crowds into hushed whispering as they stared at the
immobilized vans, at the locked up criminals, then to Brook's teammates.

It did not take long for the crowds to cheer, this time not against mutants, but for once, in
approval of them.

Brooklyn didn't just do it for the sake of her secret identity, because the world knew Brooklyn
Stark was not a mutant and that would help separate suspicions between the two...but because
perhaps she could use this good press to help out the mutants as Xavier's was doing.

Maybe if a mutant could be seen as a superhero, it would end up being a huge help to the
young mutants in the world some day. The approval of the masses around them was certainly
a start.

Once those questions had been answered, Brook realized she didn't want to risk giving too
much information away, so she pulled back her friends to join the cops once more.

They all waved and played the role of heroes until they made it back to the cluster of police
cars to bid farewell to the Sheriff so as to remain in good terms with the police, something
Spider-man assured them would be useful now that they were all public heroes.

It was then that the teens froze mid-step when they noticed an excited Tanya exiting her dad's
police cruiser. She was frowning at the criminals, but upon seeing the Dynasty, she rushed
past her father to stand before them.

"Oh my goodness! I just saw your interview! I can't believe this city has more heroes!" Tanya
said excitedly.

None of the teens knew what to do, afraid any of their actions would be recognized,
especially Brooklyn. Luckily, the sheriff saved them by ordering his daughter to go back
inside the car despite her insistence for a photo with the heroes of Queens to brag about to her
friends.

If only Tanya knew THEY were her friends...

A quick talk with the Sheriff proved that he was more than a little concerned with
superheroes running around the city despite today's display. That did not mean he banned
them from such activities, but he was worried for the safety of his people, which was
somewhat understandable.

He'd only asked for one thing, for the 'men and women' in masks to leave the majority of the
hero work to the cops. According to the Sheriff, he was grateful, especially to Spider-man for
all his years of service, but like some out there in the world, Tanya's dad was weary of heroes
thanks to the Sokovia Accords issue a few years back.

Since no one from the team could make promises not to help, Brooklyn merely ushered her
team away with a polite handshake.

Before Damian could pick a fight, which he clearly wanted to do, commotion came from one
of the cop cars. One of the criminals inside had come free of his bindings, and his large size
was enough to push nearby cops like they were nothing but paper.

As the commotion arose, the man took hold of a cop's gun, looking around frantically for a
target as he said, "No! I wont go back to jail! Not like this!"

Eventually the dark haired man set his sights on the Sheriff with the shiny badge.

The criminal had found his target.

As the man lifted the Ruger LC9, Brooklyn had only seconds to see he had every intention on
firing against Tanya's dad.

Before a tragedy could happen, Brooklyn got GIL to launch the thrusters of the suit, and as
the Stark landed before the man, she felt more than she saw the bullet crash against the metal
chest of her suit, leaving bit of smoke and a nasty indent against the golden paint.

Brook had staggered back slightly by the impact, which gave Damian the space to swing past
her to punch the large man unconscious.

The crowds were going frantic, but it wasn't until most saw Brooklyn was ok that the scream
of terror turned into sighs of relief. Damian was at her side instantly, clearly wanting to check
if the bullet had done anything, but being unable to do so with all the cameras around.

Maybe their parents would be mad the Stark and Wayne were in a team together now instead
of just patrolling the same area, but seeing them care for one another would only make it
worse. So instead, Damian had to watch as Yelena moved beside Brook, inspecting the mark
left on the suit, signaling to the rest of the team all was well.

Just as Spider-man finished webbing the unconscious criminal, Brook heard a different type
of wailing on her ear piece.

It was the robot babies.

It took only a single hand gesture for the team to realize someone's grade was on the line, and
despite the calls for interviews and the thanks from police officers, everyone got ready to
leave.

They'd have to take a longer route back to the apartment now that they were public figures.
Most certainly would have to switch back to civilian clothes as well....

Brooklyn was getting ready to launch into the air with her friends, but looked back once to
see Tanya frantically hugging her dad, smiling as she shook with tears of relief. The
cheerleader locked eyes with Brooklyn then, sending a quiet thanks with a nod of her head.

Brook could only send a small nod back as she launched into the air with Damian by her side.

****

The team had stayed im Brook's apartment for a while to bask in their victory of being
heroes. Everyone had come to accept it all, though Yelena took a while to wrap her head
around being seen as 'one of the good guys'.

It was a new challenge for all of them, but one they'd do together.

So they ate some pizza, looked after their robot children, discussed new patrol routes, but
eventually everyone had to head back home.

Damian had lingered for a second, waiting until everyone was out the door to check her
collarbone where the bullet was supposed to pierce through. There was nothing marring her
skin though.

Still, Damian took a second to hug Brook, relieved they were both unharmed.

Perhaps tomorrow they'd get a chance to really discuss what had occurred today, to discuss
the whole being heroes thing, but for now, Jon was waiting.

Unable to say anything thanks to superheating from two their members, Damian merely
kissed her cheek, then her nose as they'd grown so accustomed to doing.

Brooklyn smiled through it all, almost saddened he couldn't stay longer.

After a simple farewell to Rosa from Damian that sent the Stark chuckling as she was left
alone once more.

*****

Brook was laying in bed after finishing off her routine talk with Damian. Rosa was resting on
the usually empty side of her bed, already asleep thanks to the little Russian lullaby that
always seemed to do the trick.

It was as she was pulling the covers over her tired body that a familiar voice ran across her
head. While some people texted or called, Brooklyn was long used to Xavier's mode of
communication thanks to her days at the mutant school in weeks past.

That is why she was not startled in the least when the Professor's voice rang like a far away
echo in her brain.

"Thank you, Miss Stark" was all the old man said, but he'd done so with such sincerity that it
made Brooklyn finally realize she'd done the right thing today.

Now, all Brook had to do was keep the 'mutant' reputation on the positive side of things.
Now, not a single loss of control of her power was acceptable, and because she needed to
show she was a 'mutant', the Stark would have to use her abilities all the more as a display for
the public.

It was terrifying...yet this wasn't about her, but rather the thousands of mutants around the
world in hiding.

Brooklyn sent a mental you're welcome, and as she closed her eyes, and the girl couldn't help
but smile wider than she had in days.

She'd gone by many names in the past, had dozens of secret identities for emergencies, but
none of those aliases compared to the new one she'd acquired today.

Firestar.

Not the name of a criminal or an ex-assassin, but one of a hero of her city.

It had finally happened, she and her friends were not vigilantes or kids in training wheels
trying to prove they could be something more.

Now to those in Queens, they were heroes.

They were a team, one that was now tasked with one of the most terrifying responsibilities
possible. Keeping a city safe.

Pepper POV-

There had been many moments as of late in which Pepper Potts had been filled with an
unimaginable amount of pride.

Some such as seeing Brooklyn stand up against SHIELD officials to let Yelena practice with
her and Peter during the break, when Harley gifted his gummy bears to his older sister on
Christmas morning, and the little refrigerator ceremonies she and Tony had been
implementing for their kids ( it was nothing grand, just a series of drumrolls as one of the
kids brought home a good grade for homework or a test. Good thing they had a refrigerator
the size of a closet because the kids were good when it came to school).

Yet, as of right now, Pepper could only remember a time where the pride in her soul felt like
a pliable force in her heart.

It was like she had traveled back in time to the press conference in which Tony had revealed
himself as Iron Man, only this time it was Brooklyn on TV, clad in her gold and red skin tight
metal suit, red mask obscuring her features.

In both of those instances, the people Pepper cherished most turned their lives around.

They both became heroes.

One Iron Man, the other Firestar.

Pepper was sitting on her desk, scattered mounds of paperwork long forgotten when she
beheld the five teenagers in disguise of TV, now labeled as a team.

It had come as a little bit of a surprise to see Brooklyn working with the Wayne and the Kent
boy, yet she wasn't shocked by it at the same time. She was glad to see her daughter and the
Wayne being given an excuse to spend more time together, even more so that Tony was away
on a mission right now so he wouldn't throw a fit and try to put a stop to this.

Pepper would have to convince him that letting the kids save the city was a good thing.

Purely professional of course, even if Pepper suspected her Brooklyn held some feelings for
Damian. If only Nat and Steve hadn't gone away on a mission, it was a shame they were
missing this.

Most of the Avengers were weary of Damian, not because he was a Wayne (the only one who
cared about that was Tony), but because he was from the League of Assassins.

In truth, Pepper was actually glad the boy was at Brooklyn's side, somehow the woman knew
her daughter couldn't be in safer hands.

When she heard both teens had been found together in their capture, Pepper had the strong
intuition that perhaps they had been protecting one another. Only a few had seen both teens
tied up before the other assassins, as if they were being executed. Pepper was almost certain
hat despite their differences, those two teens might've been comforted by one another's
presence.

Pepper knew how much Ivan rattled Brooklyn, how during the man's trial, the young teen had
pretended to be calm and collected, but she could see the fear in her daughter during the
whole thing, even when the leader of the Red Room was convicted.

Yet, if Nat's retelling of the battle was correct (which of course it was) then Brooklyn had not
felt any of that fear when she fought Ivan that day, neither had the young Wayne when he
took his turn.

Tony had mentioned the small truce between the young teen and himself when they engaged
in a fight against Ivan, in which Pepper's fiancee mentioned seeing Damian so riled up, not
pulling back his punches as if Ivan had committed an offense against him.

Coincidentally, Nat mentioned Brooklyn fought the leader of the League with no hesitation as
well, looking riled and angered.

It is possible that perhaps something happened those days the heroes couldn't find them,
something that made the teens angry at the leaders of enemy guilds...but Pepper's instincts
felt a sort of familiarity when such events were described.

What those two had done was a familiar thing, something Pepper had seen those in the
compound do many times over many circumstances.

It was avenging. They were avenging one another.

When it came to saving or avenging someone else, all pretenses of fear were as good as gone.
Plus, Pepper had noticed Brook was been different in a good way these past few days. That
shadow that had followed Brook after Ivan's trial disappeared almost as soon as she went to
school again.

Maybe the Wayne was helping with that? Or maybe, they were helping one another.

Seeing her daughter now on TV, she was nothing like the girl Pepper found outside in the rain
months ago for the first time. That girl now knew how to care and fight for others. Not long
ago, Pepper had seen the clips of her daughter fighting in New York, had seen the death
counts Brooklyn had been responsible for up until she met Tony.

Seeing her now, caring for innocents, willing to put in the work and sacrifice to become a
hero...it made her very happy but also very worried.

Pepper's daughter had almost died multiple times these past few months, had made so many
enemies with the Joker and all the assassin guilds that kept Tony up at night...and she could
do nothing to help.

As Pepper swirled her chair to behold the frozen ground outside, she put all her hope and
prayers into the idea that her daughter would not have to face those dangers alone. Brooklyn
had a team now, a group of people who seemed to look out for one another no matter their
strange backgrounds.

Though some part of Pepper still wanted to beg her daughter to stay away from danger and
trouble, she knew by now thanks to Tony that asking a Stark to stop fighting for others was a
futile effort.

Brooklyn NEEDED to be a hero, she needed to learn and grow even when all Pepper wanted
to do was keep the young girl safe.

Back on the flat screen TV, Pepper noticed Brooklyn and Damian leaving together in the
same direction.

Could they be leaving back to Brook's home together? Was it too much hope to wish
Brooklyn would spend some time with a friend?

Perhaps.

But hope was a powerful thing, and those kids seemed to be an even more powerful thing in a
way Pepper could not put into words.

Going back to her work, Pepper was already coming up with ways to get Tony to accept this
new little arrangement, hoping Mr. Wayne would not intervene as well. Perhaps a simple
command to leave things be would be enough, or maybe she could convince Tony that
Brooklyn was being responsible to not let rivalries get in the way hero work.

All those thoughts were halted when her phone buzzed.

 Pepper noted the 'Avengers' group chat was already sending congratulatory texts to Brooklyn,
even when Fury's was more on the cautionary side, urging Brook to recall that she was now
in charge of the safety of about 2.3 million people.

It was sweet to see everyone being so supportive, but what caught the woman's attention was
a separate group chat. Texts from her parents.

That was odd, Pepper wasn't due to talk to them till the weekend....had something gone
wrong?

Quickly opening the texts, Pepper was met with a series of messages more alarming that the
woman had anticipated.

Her parents were here in New York, but they were not on their way to the compound...no,
they were going to pay their new granddaughter a surprise visit.

They knew of her past of course, knew Brook had been taken recently and they had been
worried sick, even when they'd yet to meet her.

Apparently, being unable to attend Christmas and New Years made Pepper's parents antsy
and bold.

Normally, Pepper's concern would be in what Brooklyn would thing of having grandparents,
of whether or not she would trust or like them.

But she'd seen Brooklyn leave not long ago....with the Wayne.

This could end very badly...and Pepper could do nothing once again, it was too late to stop
them.

Chapter End Notes

Ah! The team is official now!!!!!!

For those of you who don't know, Crimson Widow is actually an alias for Yelena
Belova. And as I mentioned in the prior book, Brooklyn's character is incredibly loosely
based on Firestar from Marvel. They are by no means the same person, but I thought the
hero name fitted quite well for now. Perhaps it will change in the future *wink*.
 Meaning of Grandparents

Brooklyn POV-

Brooklyn and Damian could both agree that the day's events were by far something they'd
never expected to occur to them. They were heroes.

Brook had not expected to gain such an honorary title until years and years of righting
wrongs under SHIELD's agenda, she had not dared to think of herself as anything other than
an aspiring hero, perhaps an agent now a days at most.

In a similar manner, Damian had often expressed he'd assumed that one day in the future he'd
only expand on his vigilante status, forever remaining the enemy of criminals and the police
while trying to do the right thing.

While Brooklyn had hoped to one day live up to the title of Avenger like her dad, Dami had
been different. During their nightly talks, he'd often expressed his desire to NEVER take up
the mantle of Batman, choosing to leave such a burden to his older siblings when Bruce
Wayne finally elected to retire.

In fact, he'd once confessed to not wanting to lead the Teen Titans like his eldest brother, but
perhaps one day joining the Justice League instead.

Either way, neither teen had been expecting to be granted the title of heroes so soon, not just
because of their past, but because it was an honor that seemed almost impossible after their
pasts had come to haunt them.

Now, the two were seated at the comfortably worn couch of her living room, with Brooklyn
swaddling Rosa in her arms while Damian browsed the Queens News Channels like the
famous Daily Bugle that was often a source of criticism not only for Spider-man, but also
Brooklyn Stark.

The Daily Bugle was run by a man who seemed to have natural anger issues, or perhaps he
just relished in being controversial. The few times Brook had bothered reading their
newspaper or watching their news channel, the man had portrayed the young Stark as a
spoiled little rich girl, one with far too much money and too little to offer the world other than
a pretty face made for magazines and modeling jobs.

Today, all criticism of her was replaced under a new face. John Jameson was having a field
day screaming about the lack of trust over the new heroes of Queens, mentioning that having
one of Batman's sidekicks and even someone related to Superman could end up
catastrophically.

To Brook's surprise, Damian was not angry in the least at the comments against his father or
himself. Instead, he was seated calmly beside Brook, as always keeping close so that their
shoulders and legs touched in the simplest but most enjoyable of touches between them.
Instead of fuming, Damian gave her a look, that same look she'd come to know lately.
Neither of them were too keen on lying to one another, but they were not very skilled in
asking for things yet.

It wasn't a problem in their 'something more', but rather something they had to work towards.

It took Brooklyn quite some time studying couples at school to realize her relationship with
Damian was quite unique, not just because of their last names and hidden identities, but
because they had something others did not posses, they had the ability to communicate with
one another even without the need of words being exchanged.

Perhaps that was because their relationship started out with being nothing more than enemies
that could not lie to one another, evolving a trust that developed into sharing everything
between them.

Even as enemies, they were always brutally honest with one another, somehow that openness
was their greatest strength.

But, the one part of that they DID struggle with was when it came to emotions. They both
lived for so long thinking simple actions like hugging or 'snuggling' were wrong, and they'd
worked past them little by little...but now that they were both open to expand on their
newfound experiences, now with this new 'something more' between them, it seemed that
craving for closeness only increased.

Perhaps it was pride that often made the teens hesitate to ask for even a simple hug, but that
superiority in their communication skills seemed to take care of that problem quite often.

Just as Brooklyn could tell what Damian was thinking just by a mere shift in his usual
frowns, she could tell when he was silently asking for closeness. In a way, the Stark found it
endearing that he was willing to accept affection now, even if asking for it was rather unique
in its presentation.

With a smile, Brooklyn leaned her head on Damian's shoulder, feeling as his body relaxed
against the couch, the soft fabric of his black turtleneck that smelled of husky cologne and
spearmint was a comfort of her own.

After a similar silent ask from her, Damian knew to place his arm around her shoulders,
easing the memory of the new scar across her back, the one that had already healed these past
few months but still strained when they went out on patrols.

Damian was not a 'massaging' type of person. But like every aspect of their being, the two
teens often found themselves making exceptions for one another. Slowly, Dami's calloused
fingers soothed the aches on her shoulders, and now that Rosa was asleep in her arms, the
two could finally relax after days of endless work with no breaks or any real time to enjoy
being alone together.

Now there was only the sound of Titus' show on the flat screen, the distant noises of the
washer cleaning Damian's...well, his hero suit, plus the rare mechanical sounds of GIL
running some quick checks on Brook's own suit in what was once her linen closet.
Snow was gently falling outside the windows and the air inside the room smelled of the
leftover Christmas scent of chestnuts from the candles Aunt May had gifted Brook for the
holidays.

The fire was on for once, a decision the two freezing teens had elected on as they changed out
of their suits as soon as they arrived to the apartment. Brook had chanced disaster to try and
light it with her abilities, which Damian had assured her were not terrifying, but impressive.
It created a smoothing glow around the living room that had once been bare and empty, now
with its surfaces filled with framed photos of friends and family, little trinkets from Aunt
May to decorate (plus a small toy plane from a certain boy), and even a hung painting Brook
had requested from Damian himself.

It was one of his works of art from school, the one of a flame that seemed to bloom into a
flower. Damian had asked why she wanted that particular piece not long ago, to which
Brooklyn had replied honestly, 'Its a reminder of you, and that my abilities can be something
other than destructive. Or that at least someone in my life believes they can be'.

Now with all of these personalized items, the color brought into the once clean and generally
plain space, Brooklyn felt that for the first time in her life, she truly had a place to call her
own.

It was the feeling and sounds of home.

"You know, I'm not sure how my dad will react to this hero stuff" Brook confessed as she
played with the ends of Rosa's new swaddling blanket, one of deepest red depicting little Iron
Man helmets as a pattern.

It was an ongoing 'game' between her and Dami, dressing Rosa in items pertaining to the
other's parent.

Today, Rosa had been returned to Brooklyn wearing a Batman onesie, but the day prior,
Brook had gotten the robot child a rare find (by Tanya) of an Avengers logo headband her
friend though was funny considering Brook's peculiar family.

Both teens had found amusement in that little game of theirs, always glaring at one another
with no fire behind said looks. It was fun, and it would be even more so when Damian saw
the Stark Industries onesie Brook had stuffed in her drawers for later.

Turning away from the TV, Damian said, "Your father is already a hero, I'm sure he will be
content you have followed in his lead. Though I don't think my own father will take the news
well"

Is that why he'd turned off his phone? To avoid getting scolded?

"Your father is a piece of work" Brook complained, leaning closer to nuzzle her nose against
his cheek for a second of comfort, "Being a hero is an accomplishment for both of us, the
complete opposite of what we were once supposed to be. I know my opinion doesn't mean as
much as your father's, but I'm proud you elected to stick with the team, that you're doing this
for yourself"
Damian was silent for a few seconds, then pulled her closer to his chest with a satisfied sigh.

"Your pride is more than enough, my beloved" he whispered almost as if such a confession
were a prized secret, "My own pride extends to you as well"

Respect amongst assassins was rare, but pride was probably unheard of.

Yet another barrier they broke through when it came to their pasts...and it felt good.

Brooklyn relished in seeing one of Damian's rare smiles directed down at her, the dimples on
his face visible.

The two spent the next few hours in lazy bliss. Peter was in charge of patrols for the rest of
the day, and Dami's family was not due back at the manor till the late hours of the night, so
for once in a long time, the two were able to just...breathe.

They spent some time catching Rosa up on Titus' favorite show, explaining the murders and
betrayals that had occurred up to this point. Thanks to Ned and the hacking of his own doll,
the teens now knew that constantly speaking to the doll was a way to keep them asleep
longer, or at least in a relaxed manner.

So they spent hours sharing stories with Rosa, not just about the TV show, but also anything
the two found useful like how to properly hold the vibranium dagger Brook had given
Damian ages ago.

It sometimes surprised Brooklyn that he still carried that around, even more so that he
seemed to treasure it not because it once saved his life, but according to Damian, he didn't let
anyone else use it because it came from her....well, that was unless you counted a robot child
holding said dagger like one would a toy.

They'd baby-proofed it of course...with a few make up sponges.

Their calm and relaxation only halted when a knock came at the door, with an unfamiliar
urgency and playfulness to it.

That was unusual.

"Are you expecting anyone, beloved?" Damian asked, eyes on the hall leading to the front
door.

Brooklyn met his gaze, shaking her head once, which was all it took for the two teens to
spring into action. Damian didn't have to be, but he gently took the vibranium knife from a
sleeping Rosa, getting rid of its safety sponges. Brooklyn herself was quick to snap her
gauntlets into place, rolling up the sleeves of her cream sweater.

As soon as the gauntlets arranged into place around her forearms, electricity began to sizzle
in anticipation.

In mental coordination, she and Damian got to their feet, with him dimming the lights in the
apartment to make it harder for any potential snippers outside to make a good shot while
Brooklyn carefully made her way to the front door where rapid knocks were still coming
from.

Peter never knocked like that, neither did Aunt May or any of her friends and family.

Whoever was on the other side of the door was likely a stranger. The best case scenario was
some civilian had somehow managed to sneak past the gates to try and get an autograph.
Such encounters were so common on the streets of Queens that Brook rarely strolled around
the city alone without a disguise.

Worst case scenario, an assassin had decided to come get their revenge.

With Damian trailing behind her, Rosa still in his arms, the two teens approached the door,
and after a reassuring nod from Brook, she got rid of the locks and security...opening the door
mid knock, making sure it was only opened ever so slightly to take in the threat.

What she saw left Brooklyn stunned for a few seconds.

It was a couple, far too old to hold interest in trivial things like autographs of a famous
celebrity out of their age range. They were both older than Brook's parents, dressed in finery,
and looking down at the teen with wide smiles.

The woman, decked in pearl jewelry and a flattering white suit extended her arms as Brook
dared open the door a little wider, an expectant look in her eyes. The man by her side looked
just as happy, but seemed to be the more restrained of the two as he stood beside whom the
Stark assumed to be his wife.

Those two didn't exactly look like threats, so she wasn't really sure what to do.

In fact, now that she noticed, the pair was not only excited...but also slightly nervous.

Before the teen could get a word in, the woman stepped forward with arms wide, using the
small open space of the door to crush Brooklyn into a hug that left the girl stiff as a stick.

"Brooklyn, oh my sweet child, how are you?"the woman said, voice close to Brook's tears as
the man joined in the embrace Brooklyn was still trying to wrap her head around.

It would be silly to ask how they knew her name, all of Queens and the world knew who she
was by now. The question was, why were these two people acting like they knew her?

"I'm sorry?" Brook asked, trying not to be impolite even when the unwanted embrace felt like
a reason to open up her gauntlets again just in case these people were about to stab her.

Damian was still in the shadows behind Brooklyn, if something bad were to happen, she
knew he would have her back anyways.

The man pulled away from the embrace, graying hair glinting in the light of the hallway as
his deep voice said with a smile, "We're Virginia's parents, my dear. Your grandparents"
Virginia...Pepper...they were mom's parents, the ones Brook had been too busy to meet but
had already received Christmas and New Years gifts from.

Mom had planned to go visit them in a few months, taking Brook and Harley with her if their
schedules allowed...so why were they here now?

"You're mom's parents" Brooklyn said stupidly, more as confirmation for herself than
anything.

The woman smiled stepping back to take a good look at Brooklyn as she said, "Yes, but you
can call us Nana and Gramps"

Nana? Gramps?

What was going on....

Brooklyn had joked about Grandpa Steve being her actual grandfather, but she'd never HAD
a real one before. Howard and Maria Stark were dead, and even if the Peggy Carter rumor
was real that woman was dead as well. Meaning, she'd NEVER met an actually grandparent
before.

What was the protocol? How much did they know about her? Would they have the power to
banish her from Pepper's life if they found her inadequate?

Likely due to Brook's confused look, the wom-....Nana explained, "We came to surprise you!
We heard what happened weeks ago with those nasty assassins and took the fastest flight
from Greece as soon as we were able to. Oh Brooklyn, you are such a strong girl and we are
so happy to have you in the family...I always wanted a granddaughter!"

Mom had told them what happened? And they had cared enough to come check up on her...

Realizing they were no threat, Brooklyn let go of the door frame, letting GIL light up the
house once more as she really took in the people before her.

They seemed nice, caring. Mom definitely got her auburn hair from nana, her blue eyes from
gramps as well as her smile. It was odd to see so much of Pepper in them, to realize that they
too were Brook's family just as much as mom was.

Harley had met them once, back when he was still mourning for the loss of his own mother.
The two Starks had never spoken of their grandparents, because Harley was not yet adopted
at the time and he'd assumed Brook knew them well.

Now she regretted not pressing for answers on what these people were like. Too bad he was
busy playing some online game with friends today, likely wouldn't answer her pressing
questions now.

She wasn't entirely sure what it meant to have grandparents in the first place...

When Brooklyn was unable to blurt out a sentence, gramps took that chance to speak up,
"We're so glad you-" his voice cut off, eyes going wide as saucers. It took a few seconds for
Brook to realize his gaze was no longer on her, but behind her.

In the hall of the apartment, Damian stood frozen, clearly as confused by the people at the
door as Brooklyn was.

Thankfully, he'd hid his dagger, but Rosa was still in his arms. Of course the small robot took
THAT time to start crying. The wails of the robot made Brook's new grandparents freeze in
confusion, but the Stark had no time to explain as she rushed over to Damian's side.

It seemed Damian too snapped out of his own shock as they turned all their attention to a
wailing Rosa.

Both teens were panicking now because yesterday, Jon's child only cried for a minute and
theirs for two. Since the robot measured the amount of time of distress it had by the minute
and docked off points accordingly, the two had to pick up the slack today.

There was no way they would get a lower grade.

Brooklyn didn't want to leave her grandparents at the door, she was still trying to work out
how she felt about all this after all, but her grade was calling out to her. She heard them come
inside and close the door, but her gaze was on a blinking Rosa who wailed and wailed until
Damian came back with the pacifier, throwing it to Brooklyn, which she caught with one
hand, eyes still on the baby.

Damian was quick to take the child back into his arms, starting a soothing rocking pace while
Brook scrambled to hum that simple lullaby to Rosa. If their math was right, the baby should
stop crying....now.

In an instant the wails of the baby stopped, and both teens let out a relieved sigh.

GIL was quick to call out with her Russian accent, "That period of distress only lasted 14.5
seconds. A new personal record "

Brooklyn might've celebrated at that piece of good news, if it weren't for her new grandfather
asking, "Who is this boy, Brooklyn? You...you have a baby? What's going on?"

Brook froze.

Ok, they didn't recognize Damian as a Wayne right off the bat, which was good. But to them,
Brook was home alone with a boy, holding a baby they clearly assumed to be real...

When the teen turned around, she beheld her grandparents clutching onto the side tables of
the hall, eyes wide at the sight before them.

Maybe not the best first impression, then again, her first encounter with mom had been far
worse.

Not really knowing where to start. Brooklyn tried to be as vague as possible, glossing over
the fact that Damian was a Wayne, merely introducing him as her classmate, one whom she
was paired with for an assignment involving the ROBOT child in his arms.
The wom..nana, seemed distressed at first, apologizing to Brooklyn profoundly about
speaking of assassins and such in front of a classmate. The teen tried not to smile as she
mentioned all was well, that the boy beside her was well aware of everything. She did not
explain how or why, but it seemed both adults were just glad they hadn't spilled the dark
secretes of the Stark heiress in front of a stranger.

To her surprise, Damian stepped forward and introduced himself as merely Damian, then
politely offered to leave if they needed to have a family moment.

Brooklyn had NEVER seen Damian be polite to anyone other than her. At least not in the
months they'd known one another.

Though Damian did not offer a hand to shake, he did nod at both adults respectfully, which in
itself was a kindness he didn't often show others.

Nana smiled then, introducing herself and her husband as Mrs. and Mr. Potts in such a
friendly manner that it was clear they did not know Dami was supposed to be a family
enemy.

"There is no need for you to leave" Nana said, "we're the ones that came uninvited after all"

Gramps chuckled lightly and then added, "Why don't you stay and have dinner with us? We
wanted to cook for Brooklyn and we'd be more than happy to have you join us, champ"

Brook's grandfather motioned to the bag in his hand, which Nana was already taking towards
the direction of the open kitchen, shouting something about making a special family recipe
for 'her favorite granddaughter' to try out.

Damian turned to Brook, clearly letting her choose whether or not he and Rosa should leave
of stay. Brooklyn knew Dami was often uncomfortable amongst others, but in his eyes, she
could tell he wouldn't mind staying at all.

Was it curiosity on his part? Worry?

Brook was selfish in her choice, wanting her anchor to be with her while she deal with this
very odd series of events.

It had been foolish of her to think being adopted by mom and dad would mean they would be
the only family she would gain, and some part of Brooklyn was weary she'd somehow mess
this up. These adults seemed like normal, everyday folks.

It was that fear of somehow dealing with this alone that pushed her to ask Dami if he would
stay to eat, to which he nodded in understanding.

Gramps seemed genuinely pleased with the series of events as he lead them to the living
room, telling the teens not to bother offering help to cook since nana was very meticulous
about her cooking.

Though it was odd having a stranger in her kitchen, Brooklyn left the woman to do as she
pleased, hoping she wouldn't find the loaded guns under the kitchen table or question the
magnetized strip she used to hang knifes for emergencies.

Now in the living room where the two teens had been alone in not long ago, Brooklyn shyly
offered to let gramps choose what they could watch in the meantime, which ended up being a
football game. Though the game seemed of some interest to the man, he expressed his want
to get to know one another better.

Thankfully, Brook had practice from many interviews under her belt now, so the inevitable
prodding of questions did not seem like such a terrifying thing as it would've months ago.

Though Damian was seated beside Brooklyn, both teens kept their distance, the complete
opposite of how they were minutes ago. Neither teen wanted any of this getting back to
Pepper or Tony, but it seemed gramps was more preoccupied telling tales of the past few
weeks.

He and nana had been busy on some fishing trip up until now, unable to come sooner.

Gramps mentioned he'd received news from mom as soon as she and Brooklyn met, that
they'd even been notified of the adoption before it even took place. Both of Brooklyn's
grandparents were beyond ecstatic, even when the teen was not Pepper's flesh and blood.

Mom told them everything though. In some way, they had a right to know their new
granddaughter was an ex-assassin of course, but Brook and Damian were both surprised
gramps was speaking about it so casually as if it were the weather.

The only aspect of Brook's past that really set the man into a slight frenzy was the mention of
her recent capture.

"Your mom was frantic when you were taken away" Gramps said, combing through his hair
nervously, eye full of pity of his own as he added, "I just can't understand why they would
bother you again, how they could be so cruel to a child. But Pep mentioned Tony was doing
all he could and that you were strong enough to protect yourself..."

Brooklyn smiled, but inside her head she was trying very hard not to remember what
happened then. Though she and Damian found little need to bring up all that had occurred in
Bermuda, some part of her was still troubled by what had occurred.

When it came to Ivan and the Red Room, Brooklyn was rather unfazed. She'd put Ivan in jail
for life, the Red Room may live still, but they were without their leader...and were likely in
chaos fighting for power.

It was Damian's sacrifice that still made Brook worry at times.

He'd been so willing to be tortured if it was a fate she would suffer. She knew the new scar on
her back weighed on him as well, that just as Brook sometimes called in the middle of the
night to check up on him, Damian did the same for that reason.

"I did not mean to worry anyone. I hope that me constantly worrying mom won't make you
think I'm an inadequate daughter" she replied honestly, truly worried they would tell
Brooklyn her crazy antics had no room in this family.

Gramps surprised her by laughing, on and on until Brooklyn wasn't sure he would ever stop.

He did eventually, and the first thing he did when he composed himself was reach out to hold
one of Brook's hands, a move the teen tried not to flinch from.

He wasn't a stranger after all....he was family.

"My sweet Brooklyn," the man began, "its a parent's job to constantly worry about their kids,
something no child should ever apologize for. And you aren't an adequate daughter in the
least! Did you know Pepper always wanted a daughter? She was the happiest I've ever heard
her when se mentioned you agreed to the adoption! Having you, Harley, and even Anthony in
her life is the greatest blessing we could ever ask for"

Blessing.

Brooklyn had NEVER considered herself a blessing but rather something more along the
lines of a damaged curse.

But gramps seemed to mean what he said, and Damian's subtle hand on her back was a silent
reassurance Brook needed to relax at last.

Gramps wasn't mad, he was just worried.

Brook relented a small smile towards the man, one he beamed at. With that, the two turned to
Damian as Rosa woke up from her slumber. The robot opened up her green eyes, blinking
slowly as little gurgling noises emerged from her mouth.

As per usual, Brooklyn took Rosa from Damian's arms, both careful to support the baby's
head as per the instructions given to them. Once Rosa was settled comfortably in her arms,
the Stark began to bounce her legs to entertain the child....just the usual.

Thats when Gramps' attention seemed to hone on Damian, as if remembering he was still
here.

"Are you by any chance the spider-kid Anthony talks about all the time? Pepper mentioned
that hero was a classmate of yours" Gramps asked Damian.

As expected, the Wayne tried and failed to restrain a disgusted look on his face, one that
made Brooklyn fight back a smirk.

"No, he's not that classmate" Brook answered for her Dami.

The two teens exchanged a series of secret facial expressions. Damian's signifying disgust at
being confused for Peter, Brooklyn's full of amusement.

Of course dad had talked about Peter once or twice...

"Yet he knows of the kidnaping and your past. I know your mom mentioned you ere
rather...reserved when it came to that stuff" Gramps added rather confusedly.

To her surprise, it was Damian that said rater calmly, "We both know secrets about one
another, Mr. Potts. You have nothing to worry about, I won't tell a soul"

Though Damian's face was still passive, voice leveled and almost monotone, Brooklyn was
left astounded by his kindness today.

Her surprise went even further after Gramps nodded in understanding and the two spent the
next half hour focused on the game on TV. Damian made a lot of good predictions for game,
something that seemed to impress gramps, that kept the conversation flowing between the
two.

Damian claimed most of his predictions came from watching so many football games at
school rather than taking a liking to the game. Gramps did not mind that at all, he seemed
very impressed, smiling and cheering when Dami's calls were right.

Once the game was over, Damian was smug with satisfaction which made Brooklyn smile at
him unknowingly. He was just full of surprises...

It was once Nana came back, and the meal was served, that they all took a seat at the table
full of dishes Brooklyn wasn't sure how the woman had cooked up in such little time.

It all smelled delicious, from the steaming meats to the fresh vegetables.

Unsure how to properly thank the woman for the meal, Brooklyn settled for a smile,
watching as she piled food onto each plate despite the offers to help not just from the girl, but
from Damian as well.

With food served, everyone seated, and Rosa on the high chair Brook had jokingly bought
online to make her life easier, everyone thanked Nana for the meal with a nod and dug in.

As Nana began putting specific spices on her meal, she too began to speak to Brooklyn about
the wonderful state of the apartment and Brook's physical beauty despite the teen's lazy attire
meant for less...important of events.

Wordlessly, Brooklyn was discrete to take Damian's meat into her own plate as Nana said
with a tone of genuine sadness, "It pains me that we missed a lot of you growing up. You're a
teen now, probably don't care about spending an evening with grandparents who just want to
tell you stories and spoil you senseless"

Brook was stunned by the words. Sure, she too often wished her childhood could've been
spent amongst family, but she'd never trade her fighting experience for anything in the world,
especially with all that was happening with the alien weapons and such. Still, it was
endearing that even through she was not related to them by blood, that nana and gramps
seemed to both share the wish to know her better.
They were already doing the hardest thing Brooklyn could imagine, overlooking her past.
Perhaps they were just good people after all.

"Actually, this is all new for me" Brook admitted while stabbing her asparagus
absentmindedly, "I didn't think you guys would even want to meet me after knowing...who I
was"

It was a hard thing to bring up, something Brooklyn knew would ruin the mood of this
delicious meal, but she'd been too curious since they walked in the door, wondering how they
could just dismiss who she'd been to accept her into their family, one that was clearly lovely
all on its own without an ex-assassin of a granddaughter to ruin it all.

Seeming to notice her worry, Brooklyn felt Damian's hand sneak to hold her own under the
table. A small comforting gesture between he two of them, one she appreciated now more
than ever.

Gramps set down his own fork, frowning with slight confusion as he said to her, "None of
that was your choice, and if it were up to me, I'd go to the pentagon to beat that Ivan guy with
the cane in my car"

Brooklyn couldn't help but see that image in her head, and even though she hated thinking of
Ivan in any way, the thought of his getting beat up by a simple cane was rather amusing,
enough to bring a small smile to her face.

"We're your grandparents now," Gramps added, "and that means you come to us when you
need someone to talk to, for advice only ancient people like us can bestow. Your Nana and I,
we are so happy to have you and Harley in our lives. We're eager to get to know you two
better, to have you two come visit us so we can go to the countryside, to show you two the
world"

Brook was flabbergasted, unable to work out in her brain that whatever mom had told them,
they'd decided it was not more important that family. They knew who Brooklyn was, and like
with Damian, they accepted that fact.

It was a comfort, and though it might seem small...it meant the world to Brooklyn.

Now slightly more relaxed, Brooklyn picked up bites of her own meal, and after a delicious
bite of an array of perfect flowing flavors and spices, she muttered, "I think I would like
that".

Both elderly smiled her way.

"Besides," Nana said with a tone of amusement, "your dad was not exactly the guy with the
cleanest background. You mom used to complain about him endlessly when she started
working for him, but somewhere along the way before he was captured, she fell in love with
him. We were quick to judge Anthony by how the world saw him, but once we sat down with
the guy, it was clear he loved and cared for our daughter more than anything. He's a good
man, we were the ones that jumped to conclusions. We won't make that mistake ever again"
They hadn't liked dad!?

Then again, dad was a...peculiar personality that definitely took some getting used to. But
he'd earned the approval of this couple, enough so to be engaged to mom. How interesting.

The couple had dozens of stories about mom and dad to tell. They spoke of the first family
trip Tony was allowed in, how he'd spilled a banana smoothie all over himself while trying to
keep calm during a grilling conversation with gramps. That tale had even brought a wicked
and discrete smile to Damian's lips.

They spoke of beautiful memories of mom growing up in New Haven, Connecticut. Of the
well disciplined child who loved to visit the East Rock Park. According to them, Pepper was
a girl who always loved the outdoors, long summer days, fresh fruits (except for strawberries
which she is apparently allergic to).

Gramps went into detail of mom's decision to becoming dad's personal assistant at a time
when she'd had little interest in remaining home. Mom had apparently gotten the job because
she'd gotten so frustrated at dad's aloofness that she yelled at him into the next century
without caring that he was THE Tony Stark.

That had made Brook laugh. It seemed nothing had changed since then, mom was still dad's
only voice of reason he'd actually listen to.

According to Nana, mom grew frustrated with her job early on since dad was always out
socializing and she was left with no choice but to perform his job for him. Because of that,
she went to college while she worked, majoring in business administration in order to cover
Tony properly.

That sounded like mom alright, she always went above and beyond the call of duty.

While both grandparents went back and fourth adding to their own tales, Brooklyn dove into
her meal, realizing rather quickly that Nana would get along great with someone like Alfred.
Both were exceptional cooks.

She also noted that even after being married for what must be quite a few decades, the two
elderly clearly loved one another dearly. They both carried mom's kindness and air of respect.
Unlike mom, they both loved jokes, seemed to be more 'go with the flow' type of people.

They joked with Damian too, did not mind that he did not laugh or smile much, but even for
him, he was being uncharacteristically friendly today, giving nods of understanding and
keeping track of the conversation.

When Rosa started crying once again, gramps finally seemed to be used to the random
presence of a robot in the house and took to teaching the teens how to hold the baby more
efficiently to save their arm strength.

Grams noticed Brooklyn always sang the same Russian nursery rhyme to get the baby to
sleep, so she took it upon herself to teach Brooklyn some songs of her own...songs she sang
to Pepper when mom was young. Melodies passed down through the family.
Since they carried the same soothing pace as the previous lullaby, Rosa could not tell the
difference and quickly fell asleep as if it were a magical tune inducing sleep.

Upon realizing Brooklyn had little to no experience with music due to her upbringing, they
took to showing her some of their favorite songs mom favored, mostly music from the sixties
that was meant for dancing.

The pair even danced to a slow song themselves, oddly reminding Brooklyn of all the times
she'd danced with the teen beside her, wondering if they'd have decades to dance like her
grandparents did.

It was an odd thought, but a pleasant sort of hope.

In their bonding experience, her grandparents had taken to smiling at Brooklyn as much as
they could, also adapting a nickname for her meant for endearment.

Lyn. As in BrookLYN.

It was odd when nicknames were sprung on her, but whether she was called Daphne,
Beloved, or Brook...the teen found she did not mind one bit, because she knew these names
came from a place of caring.

On more embarrassing notes, the pair of adults also took to asking questions of their own.
They were adamant to make sure both Brook and Damian weren't doing drugs or drinking.
They asked if they got enough hours of sleep a day (which they definitely did not, but both
teens lied anyways).

Gramps even went as far as to whisper something quite peculiar to Brook while nana was
busy explaining the beauties of Greece (where she currently lived). He had leaned over the
table and whispered, "He seems like a good boy, you two seem like good friends"

Brooklyn was glad they had no clue he was a Wayne, a 'family enemy' in their midsts. It was
the thought alone that made her lie, and the words tasted ashy and bitter in her mouth as she
admitted they were just two classmates determined to get a good grade...that knew a few
secrets of one another.

Gramps had taken the words into consideration, but she'd caught him looking to Damian
more often since. Not in suspicion, but curiosity.

To her surprise, Damian was being kind to Nana, bothering to ask questions of her tales as if
he found interest in them. That wasn't to say Damian was usually rude for disrespect's sake,
but he often found few things to be amusing or of great importance.

What had changed today?

Someone who didn't know Damian well might think being declared a hero today had messed
with his head, but Brooklyn knew in her heart that wasn't it at all.

So, when the food was finished and Nana insisted on cleaning up, Brooklyn begged them
woman to let her cleanup as a thank you for the meal. Unsurprisingly, Damian too offered to
help perhaps out of his own need to talk to her.

They left Rosa in the hands of her grandparents, trusting that for a few minutes, they could
take care of the little robot, even if Damian had been hesitant about that part.

Once the two made it to the kitchen, they first busied themselves making as much noise as
possible with the dishes when placing them on the sink in an effort to keep their words
private.

In a barely audible whisper, Brooklyn asked, "Why are you being so nice to them? Not that I
don't like it, but I'm worried something is wrong"

Damian rolled his eyes, but kept his gaze on the rising water in the sink as he replied back in
an equally soft whisper, "I know basic manners...additionally, I read somewhere that when in
a relationship, one must get along with family of his significant other if a relationship is to
last"

Brooklyn almost dropped a plate into the sink.

Though she would NEVER admit it to a breathing soul, Brook had been doing research of
her own on when it came to relationships. It's sounded pathetic out loud, but just as she'd
done research on how to be a successful sister, she too wanted to prevent making mistakes
when it came to this thing with Damian.

She wanted it to last, because he was important to her and Brooklyn had no clue what she
was doing half the time. Assassins tended to never look into the future, never dared to hope
for anything other than current survival. Being with Damian, it had made Brook really look
into it for the first time, hoping she'd still have him there...

It was just a bit of a shock that Dami had also taken that approach to lean more for her sake.
Though he had a frown of embarrassment, Brook couldn't help the small smile on her face as
she realized they were both clueless idiots, but they both cared about the other.

He was willing to play nice to her family, socialize when he disliked conversations, all for
them.

"I don't think we'll have an easy job fulfilling that approach with the rest of our families. All
your family hates me" Brook said sarcastically.

The two dug their hands into the soapy water, but instead of beginning the cleaning up
process, she felt Damian's hand clutch her own in between the dishes and the water.

"That's not true. Titus and Pennyworth do not dislike you. Besides, I'm not going to try and
befriend the Avengers, much less your father. But with your new grandparents, I suppose I
can make use of their lack of knowledge of the family feud to stay in their good graces for
now" Damian replied.

Knowing how hard it must be for him to perform a skill he was not taught and then put it into
practice, Brooklyn snuck a glance to the living room where her grandparents were cooing at
the robot baby as if it were real, glad to see them distracted. As quickly as she could,
Brooklyn stood on the tips of her feet and hovered her lips over Damian's cheek, making sure
he was comfortable with the advance before kissing his cheek.

Affection, which Brook found she was happy to give and Dami seemed to not mind
receiving.

His cheeks and ears reddened ever so slightly, but as the competition to wash the dishes as
quickly as possible began, the air turned back to its usual glee.

Just as their last dishes were being dried and stored away, they heard Nana singing another of
the lullabies she'd taught Brooklyn, one which Pepper had favored growing up. It was a
beautiful gift, but what was more so seemed to be the happiness both adults seemed to
display back in the living room.

"Thank you for staying with me" Brooklyn whispered to Damian, "I don't know how I
would've managed on my own, even if they are wonderful people"

Damian too looked back at the joy in the living room.

"I don't really have grandparents anymore since...since he died. I was curious what it would
be like" he admitted.

Brooklyn was once again reminded that it wasn't just her father that was left an orphan early
in life, that Bruce's parents had been killed, the great Ra's al Ghul was dead, leaving Damian
as much experience with grandparents as she had.

Brook found it was not the worst experience, and Damian seemed to be comfortable with
them to an extent and they with him.

"Then maybe we can share the experience" she offered, being more than willing to have him
over whenever the adults made a visit.

Damian neither confirmed or denied wanting that, but his silence was enough for Brooklyn to
know he was considering it. That was already enough.

As they went back to the living room, both adults expressed their need to leave. They had a
long drive to the compound, but seemed happier once Brooklyn told them she'd be there
during he weekend.

As they made their way out, they bid farewell to all three of them, doing so with Rosa first. It
was a little comical to see two grown adults cooing at a fake child, but it was endearing in
some way...until they referred to Rosa as their great grandchild with the sole purpose of
making Brook and Damian blush.

Those two certainly had a sense of humor...

Knowing they would be going back home, Brooklyn swallowed her pride to ask for a simple
favor. She asked them for secrecy, to keep the information of a boy being in her apartment
behind closed doors so her parents wouldn't take it the wrong way. They both understood, not
knowing Brook's real reason for harboring such a secret was to keep the Wayne alive.

Before they left after their promises, they both pulled Brook into a hug.

Because of her wool sweater, there was no way they could feel her scars, but Brook was
reminded of the way her family flinched at the sight of them, how even Peter tried not to
touch her back as a result. They had no idea of the marked skin beneath, only Damian knew
of their existence and caressed them as if her skin were smooth as all others.

Nana reached into her purse afterwards, pulling out a little box.

Brook tried not to look to suspicious as nana handed it over with the claim that it was another
late Christmas present, the first of many they both said. Of course it wouldn't be something
bad like a bomb...it was just instinct at this point to assume the worst.

When she opened it, Brook was met with a snow globe of Greece (a lavish little cottage by a
winery). It was no bigger than her palm, but it truly was beautiful.

"Thats our home" Gramps pointed out, "This is so you can remember you have a home there
now, Brooklyn"

Brook smiled at the two, thanking them for the gift, even if she felt guilty for not having
something for them as well.

But the promise of another home...it was a unique gift Brooklyn had never expected
receiving. It was better than jewels or riches, just a simple promise of having a family.

As Damian and gramps engaged in a handshake, Nana whispered to Brooklyn, "Your friend
is a very good guy wouldn't you say? He was lovely manners"

Brooklyn was stunned by the praise, but was left unable to reply as Damian moved to shake
Nana's hand with delicacy (albeit with very brief contact). He bid her farewell very cordially,
which made the woman shoot Brook a smile and a raised brow...an expression mom made
sometimes too.

Nana smiled at Damian, pinching his cheeks as she told him to take care of himself and to
keep being a wonderful young man. Brook almost fell to the floor laughing at Damian's
shock over the woman's touch.

What was less amusing and more embarrassing was when Nana whispered not so subtlety,
"You are such a sweet boy! If you ever thing of dating my granddaughter, I've been told by
her mom that she is single, you know"

Damian, the little shit, adorned a small hidden smile as he asked passively, "Is she now?"

Brooklyn tried her hardest not to roll her eyes, that demon...

Despite Gramps trying to keep the embarrassment at a minimum by whispering to his wife to
not to tease the kids, the woman added, "Yes, and she is very pretty is she not? Lyn Lyn
would do well to date someone like you"

If only she knew how right she was...

"Ok, thank you for visiting" Brook said, trying to usher them out gently as the pair smiled
and chuckled all the way down to the front gates where they had a car with a driver waiting
patiently.

Once at the doors of their limousine, Nana dared to whisper, "That Damian is a very good
boy, you should think about dating him my sweet Lyn"

Brooklyn merely said she had no time to think about dating yet, but both grandparents did not
seem to mind. They left with the promise to see her soon, maybe take her out for some ice
cream with Harley this weekend.

The promise of more time spent with her new grandparents was something sweet, and as she
made her way back under the light of the moon, Brooklyn found that their visit, though
unexpected, had been surprisingly pleasant.

Once inside, Brooklyn leaned on the closed door, watching as Damian smirked from his place
leaning in the hallway.

"So...those are my new grandparents..." she said, surprisingly flushed with embarrassment at
Nana's comments.

Damian relented one of his rare smiles, offering a hand to her as they made their way back to
the couch, with Dami bringing Rosa back into his arms.

As if the words from earlier weren't enough to be left alone in the past, Damian said " It
seems that according to your grandmother, you are without a partner"

Brook smirked, fighting the urge to slap him in the arm as she leaned into his shoulder,
watching the fire place dance with life before them.

"Apparently so" she said, playing along if only to hide her embarrassment.

Dami leaned close to her ear, whispering, "Perhaps we could consider this our first fifth date"

She chuckled.

"Is that your way of asking me out, Wayne?"

Damian looked down at her face, debating something in his mind for a while until he leaned
down, letting their noses touch in silent question. When she smiled, Damian leaned down and
placed the softest and sweets of kisses against her lips.

If she told anyone Damian was a caring significant other, they might not believe her. But he
truly was kind, his lips no longer a foreign feeling as she melted into the forbidden kiss.
When he pulled away, it was slowly and only enough so that they noses still held contact with
one another.

"Yes, beloved" he replied.

Brooklyn sighed contently, leaning against his side as they settled to watch their crime shows,
with Damian telling their robot what clues to look for to be a good detective while Brook
pointed out the best espionage techniques the villains could apply if they were smarter.

Though he'd have to make his way back home soon enough, the two teens relaxed after a
long day full of unbelievable events which she still couldn't get out of her head, and it
appeared neither could Damian.

"I did not mind your mother's parents" he commend during a commercial break, "Even if
meeting them felt like some sort of test to our new relationship"

Hmm....she hadn't even thought about it that way.

"I like them too. It was nice having a grandparent that wasn't a once frozen super soldier but
just normal people instead. Plus, I'm glad they like you, test or no its safe to say you passed"
she joked, cuddling against the pullover over their bodies.

Damian was silent for a second.

"If they hadn't liked me, would you have stopped caring for me?" he asked suddenly, not in
an accusatory tone, but a curious one.

"I don't think thats possible" she replied quickly, surprising herself with the lack of hesitation
as she added "Even if my mom and dad hate you for all eternity, I don't think I could agree
with them and leave you"

Damian smiled down at her, dimples visible as he said, "So as long as we want the other by
our side..."

"We'll be there" she finished.

It was a promise, one not easily said but in some ways easy to keep.

Looking up at the lit ceiling, Brooklyn mused, "I might need to grab a book or two on how to
be a good granddaughter. I have a feeling Harley is already ahead of me when it comes to
knowledge like that"

Dami let out a single chuckle. Just one.

"Research does seem to provide results"

Thats when she recalled Damian mentioning his earlier research. Curiously, Brooklyn looked
into his green eyes sparkling with the firelight and asked, "What did you learn from your
research on relationships?"
Damian went still, quickly moving his face to look anywhere but her, eventually settling on
Rosa.

Brooklyn smiled softly at his embarrassment, using her had to lift up his chin so they gazes
could meet.

With a sigh he said, "I leaned about the act of kissing"

Now that was interesting...

"Care to share with a friend?" she teased.

It was with a frown to hide the slight color on his cheeks that he said, "The book seemed to
be written by overly emotional beings, but at least its delivery of information was decent.
One can kiss another on the cheek in greeting. A kiss to one's forehead can mean a sign of
caring. There...there wasn't much on nose kisses, but I gather they are meant to be, and I
quote, a 'cute' way to express liking an individual even in non-romantic instances"

Brook chuckled, surprised they'd kissed like all those instances long before knowing what it
meant.

Damian rolled his eyes at her amusement, but leaned into the palm of her hand on his cheek
slightly as he added, "Mouth to mouth kisses are obviously romantic...meant to be a silent
way to tell someone you adore them..."

That they had done as well.

Now that Brooklyn wasn't afraid of her emotions towards the Wayne, she leaned her face
forwards, felling his breathing speed up even as his eyes seemed to be completely calm.

Brook placed a delicate kiss on his cheek, whispering "Then, hello"

She moved slowly to place her lips on his forehead, this one lingering longer than the
previous one.

"I care for you" she whispered.

Then, she moved to place a common kiss on his nose, a gesture she'd grown used to.
Brooklyn smiled into that kiss and said, "I like you"

Lastly, when Damian's breathing had become more labored and his eyes were whole focused
on her movements and only her did she lean her forehead against his own.

It was surprising how easy it was to show affection to him, Damian had always been one to
make anything in life easier to deal with...because like they said, they would go through
anything together.

With that comfort and ease, Brooklyn slowly leaned forward and placed her lips against
Dami's warm ones, relishing in the way he quickly kissed her back. A quick kiss, yet full of
emotions both teens cherished as a secret gift to one another.
It was when she pulled away that she noticed his usual frown was completely gone, replaced
with a contented smile that was no doubt reflected in her own face.

"I adore you" she whispered then moved to lean beside him again as Rosa began to coo in her
arms.

"I suppose it's a good thing we are both fast learners, beloved. I find I don't mind the act of
kissing" he said against the crown of her head, sending a shiver down her spine.

Softly she replied, "I don't mind it either"

When Damian inevitably had to leave, he brought her into an embrace and the promise to see
her at school tomorrow. He told Rosa not to cry for their grade's sake, and once the Robin's-
egg colored Jeep disappeared into the buzz of the city, Brook decided to text her mom before
bed, letting the woman know her parents had visited and were on their way to her.

Mom had been quick to reply, asking if her parents had bothered Brook and if she had been
busy when the encounter occurred. Brooklyn did not hesitate to reply that all had gone well,
and that she really liked having grandparents...

I'm glad. Mom had texted back.

Truth was Brook was glad as well. That night, Brooklyn went to sleep with two new
identities to her name. This time they were not those of evil doers as her past would demand.

Now she was a hero of Queens...and granddaughter.

She found she liked those names, being Firestar and a Potts.

Staring up at the glowing stars on her ceiling, Brooklyn sang that delicate melody she'd been
taught today to the robot in her arms, hoping the peace she was living at the moment would
last forever.
 Why is It Always You Two?

Brooklyn POV-

It was during Spanish class that her phone buzzed with a new alert.

It wasn't a normal text, but an alert from the app Ned had developed for the team. Thanks to
his quick thinking, the teens could now get notifications when something went wrong around
the city.

The meant less cameras and people, making their jobs easier.

The app Ned had cleverly named W.H.A.T (We Hackin' All Things) also provided everyone
with who was set to do patrols at a certain day or time. Today, it was Brook's and Damian's
turn to take care of a simple shooter a few blocks from here.

Peter had given her a nod on the way out the classroom, a silent promise to take notes on her
behalf as she 'went to the restroom'. As expected, Damian was waiting for her in their usual
spot at school, a hidden little alcove outside where they could change into their hero suits that
were lamely stuffed into their lockers.

The job was rather simple, they'd managed to stop the three men quickly, barely before the
police showed up. Once the police cars had surrounded the abandoned building, the criminals
were already tied up and the two teens were quickly swinging and flying around the city back
to school.

As per usual, she and Damian came back with an air of satisfaction. There was something
about saving the city, having people wave their way in thanks as they moved through the
buildings and streets...there was nothing like it.

It had not been long since they'd been declared the heroes of Queens, and mostly everyone
was on board with the decision. The public was supportive, the police was learning to live
with it, and most of the news seemed to enjoy the buzz.

There were always people more focused on finding their hidden identities rather than just be
grateful the city was safer, but Brooklyn was generally confident no one would ever suspect
the princess of New York would do hero work, not when Firestar was an alleged mutant and
Brooklyn was just 'a spoiled rich girl'.

Who knew false reputations would come in handy after all?

Once back at school, the two teens tried to be as quiet as possible when changing in the little
spot between janitor's storage and gardening supply cabinets they'd taken to using to change
back to their normal clothes.

Even though they were now and item and more comfortable than anything around one
another, Damian was still gentleman and turned around to let her change in privacy and she
did the same for him.

Once back in their usual clothes, hero suits place back into their lockers, the two teens were
left dreading going through their last class of the day. Not that school was difficult, but it was
exhausting, especially when Rosa awaited them after hours.

"Are you coming over today? " Brooklyn asked, and through the coast was clear and there
was no one in sight, she did so in assassin code just to be safe.

They could always move away from walking together if someone came around the corner,
but one could never be to safe with what they said, especially with Peter and Jon's
superhuman ears.

Damian finished fixing the collar of his turtleneck, gaze frowning at the stairs in the distance
he'd have to climb to get back to class.

"My father and siblings are busy accompanying Talia in search for furniture and decorations
for the fetus, I take it they will be gone a while " he replied.

Brooklyn knew Damian had not yet warmed up to the new baby that would join his family,
but perhaps it was thanks to Rosa that he had a new understanding for the 'protective' instinct
a child brought along. The few times he'd been asked to stay behind with Selina, he'd done so
with little complains after all.

Though Damian was relatively distant and cold to others, she had a feeling that perhaps he
would be a good big brother when the time came. He just didn't know it yet.

Fighting the smile on her face and the urge to hold his hand, the Stark replied, "Our hero shift
has ended, we could continue the research from yesterday"

Damian nodded in agreement, albeit not very enthusiastically.

Brooklyn had heard Natasha speak about some tranquilly as of late when it came to weapon
busts and leads on criminals. Like Damian, both teens disliked the silence, made them feel
nervous for something big to come. So, they'd taken to doing research on the places they
knew the Red Room and the League of Assassins operated.

The search was long, complicated with their limited resources, but ultimately it was worth a
shot taking a look at it. They had found nothing. It was like they all left to hide underground,
and it made them both nervous.

Somehow, Brooklyn felt that despite all the good things she had at the moment, how great
life was turning out with family, friends, and Dami...the threats of the world were still too
present to let her rest in peace. Even with Ivan in jail.

"Do you think maybe we should put less efforts into finding the Red Room and more towards
the League? Maybe if we find my mother..." Damian said calmly, but she could still see the
conflict in his eyes at the thought of his mother.
Last time Brooklyn had seen the famous Talia al Ghul, it had been in less than favorable
circumstances. She was a worthy opponent in battle, she was also the woman who raised
Damian to be a great assassin...but also subjected him to the horrors that came with that.

It wasn't Brook's place to intervene, but she would NEVER forgive that woman for all the
times she left Damian alone as punishment. NEVER.

"Do you really think you can find your mother and make her talk?" Brooklyn asked, not as a
doubt on him, but rather a wariness that the League was in as much hiding as the Red Room
was.

As they turned to walk down the corridor, passing closed classrooms in solitude, Brook
noticed Damian's unsure frown. To others, Damian would simply state that he would be more
than capable of finding the League, even if he had doubts. But Brooklyn was thankful to see
that between them, he wouldn't bother with lies.

"I doubt she will deign to listen to anyone else, beloved" Damian said, keeping an eye on the
classrooms they passed as he added mockingly, "Though you managed to beat her once in
battle, I'll feel safer with you around"

Brooklyn stifled a chuckle, even when she understood some part of Damian's words were
meant as a compliment. Still, it was amusing that in times of serious topics, it was always
Dami that managed to make her smile. Too bad Harry still thought the Wayne was incapable
of making jokes and Damian was unwilling to show that side of himself to anyone else.

Brook smiled up at him, gently shoving him with her elbow.

After a VERY small smile of his own, Damian returned the gesture, albeit a little harder as to
make her stumble half a step.

Despite the troubling problems in their minds, Brook still found joy in this....just her and
Damian being able to share one another's company however they saw fit. Because of that, the
Stark let herself enjoy the moments of peace, shoving Dami with equal strength that would
not harm him in the least, but did make him stumble slightly.

The two shoved one another continuously down the hall in relaxed bliss, both making the
most out of the time before the school bell rang and students piled into the halls.

Such fun was suddenly halted when a voice screamed behind them, "Hey, you two! Stop!"

Unable to recognize the voice, both teens got rid of their smiles, slowly turning around only
to see a teacher rushing over to them with a frown in his face. The man must've been a
teacher from another grade, because Brook did not recognize him in the least.

The man moved to stand before both teens, rushing to move Brooklyn behind him, and just
before his hand reached to shove Damian back the opposite way, he seemed to think better of
it once he got a look at Dami's glare.
The teacher looked exasperatedly between both teens, keeping them apart on opposite sides
of the hallway as he said, "Miss Stark. Mr. Wayne. I though the principal made it very clear
that fighting was prohibited in school grounds!"

Brook was astounded for a second.

This man thought they'd been...fighting. It was amusing in some sense, until Brooklyn
realized the man had no clue Damian was far from her enemy now. It was only logical he
thought the two of them being out here shoving one another meant trouble.

They were just a Stark and a Wayne clinging to a family feud in his eyes.

"We weren't fighting sir" Brook tried to explain, only to earn a frown from the balding man.

"Then what are you two doing out here in the hall pushing one another? Where are your hall
passes?" he asked.

Both Brook and Damian frowned at the same time, realizing the hall passes would indicate
they'd been out for almost twenty minutes. When neither teen was able to preset their paper,
the man seemed to regain some form of confidence, because he grabbed onto Brook's sweater
and Dami's turtleneck and dragged them both away from the direction of their class.

Brook had to silently convince the Wayne not to break the man's hand during the journey
which took them first to the 'baby station' in the school cafeteria to fetch their babies since
school was almost over...as if he expected them to be in the principal's office for quite some
time.

Despite Brooklyn's promise that the two had not been fighting, the teacher left them at the
front of the office with the promise that their backpacks would be delivered to them later as
he shoved them inside the small room Brook had not seen in some time.

****

It was funny really, the last time Brook had been in here, she'd also been in Damian's
company.

Only that time the two HAD fought one another.

This time, the two teens were seated before the principal, under his intense glare. The man
was seated on his desk, angrily staring between the two, enough so that he likely didn't even
note Rosa's sleeping form in Brook's arms.

The office was silent for a time, the desks of the receptionists outside as well. Brooklyn saw
the ladies through the window blinds, she could tell they were only faking to work as they
kept an ear towards the closed square office.

Beside her, Damian looked as if he'd blow a fuse any second now, but he too understood what
it all looked like. Unable to explain their innocence without admitting to their relationship or
their secret hero identities, the teens had no choice but to suffer thanks to the stupidity of a
mere teacher.
As the wall clock kept ticking away, Brooklyn felt the principal's glare more and more until
the silence finally made him snap.

The man sighed in exhaustion, hands combing harshly through his hair.

"Why is it always you two?" the principal asked, sounding exasperated as if he were scolding
two toddlers instead of future CEOs or heroes.

The accusation was enough for Brook to reply with a sigh of her own, "We weren't fighting
one another sir!"

Mr. Morita shook his head.

"Thats all you two do" he argued a little bit louder, "You bicker, you sneer, and you refuse to
put aside this little family rivalry of yours even when you know this behavior is
unacceptable! But to do so in the hallway..."

Before the man could continue his rant, the school bell rang across the room and the halls
beyond. Peter and Jon would be wondering where Brook was right about now, but she wasn't
about to test Mr. Morita's patience and understanding by taking out her phone to text them all
had gone well in the mission...that it was something stupid that had managed to get in their
way instead.

As if in answer to her frustrations, Rosa's programing woke up with the sound of the school
day being over. She did so wailing. Brook was quick to rock the child back and forth,
humming that new lullaby nana had taught her as the principal seemed to acknowledge the
baby at last.

"I'll have one of the ladies give the baby to your project parter Miss Stark. I'm afraid our
conversation is not over yet" the principal said, to which Brooklyn replied absentmindedly,
much more concerned with the crying baby to care, "The Wayne is my partner sir, I'm afraid
the baby will have to stay"

Mr. Morita seemed to recall such fact, likely thanks to the rumors of the enemies of school
having to work together to their 'eternal misery'.

He watched as Brooklyn tried to quiet the baby as quickly as possible, as Damian reached
into the baby bag he'd brought along to throw a pacifier her way. The action of said throw
must've seemed a lot more violent in the man's eyes, because he frowned at the two teens
more than before.

"So thats why you're fighting?" The man said, moving to pace before them as he added,
"Forced to spend too much time with one another so you decided to fight?"

"We weren't fighting" Damian argued, but seemed more concerned with the amount of time
baby was crying rather than the man before them.

Seeing that Rosa would not quiet, the two of them quickly got up from their seats, using their
fool proof plan to get the child to shut up. Damian rocked the baby in his arms as Brook
leaned forward to hum the calming tune Rosa's programing seemed to like.

Once the cries began to quiet, Brooklyn went over to the little car seat/baby carrier they'd
been given. As Brooklyn lifted it up, Damian was very careful to set the baby inside without
moving its limbs too much, which they'd quickly realized days ago was a trigger for another
fit of crying.

Once the baby was safely tucked inside, the heroes put the two and a half blankets atop Rosa
to keep her warm enough to stay shut off. They put another atop the carrier to keep the light
from the window away as a way to rid themselves of another possible trigger.

Cringing to one another after all the fuss, they carefully set down the basket between their
seats. Both teens used one of their feet to gently rock the baby seat as they awaited the
mention of their sentence.

With that settled, Brook turned back to the principal, only to see his mouth was hanging open
in surprise. His eyes rapidly blinking between both teens like he though his vision was
playing tricks.

When he remained in that state of shock for a few minutes, it was Brooklyn that leaned
forwards slightly as she told the man, "You can keep yelling at us now. Rosa shouldn't wake
for a while"

Before, Brook was sure the man was intending on screaming at them about righteousness for
a few hours, maybe even expel them from school as he'd once promised to do if she got
caught in another fight.

It would've been embarrassing, a horrific tale to explain to mom, especially since

grandparents were still at the compound and would've no doubt hear how much of a
troublemaker their assassin granddaughter truly was.

Luckily, as the man stumbled back into his head as if in a daze, his anger seemed to have
quelled somehow. With shaking hands atop the desk, the man looked at the teens with shock
and curiosity, only to say rather softly, " You'll serve detention after school restocking books
at the library but nothing more. You two may leave"

Just a single detention....that was it!!!?

"What about our robot? We need to take care of it" Brook argued, not willing to loose class
points just for rearranging books all day.

The principal stood up then, eyes frantically on the baby as he said, "Yes! Please! Bring the
baby!.....I mean...yes you can bring it, don't go jeopardize your grades"

It was odd how Mr. Morita was currently eyeing the rocking baby as if it where the holy
grail, but Brooklyn was thankful for the mild sentence...for a crime she did not even commit.

Damian crossed his arms though, keeping his foot to gently rock Rosa even when his glare as
on the principal himself.
"Are you going to notify our parents? Are they outside the office waiting to be summoned?"
Dami asked, sending another wave of panic through her.

Thankfully, the principal must've been struck by a wave of mercy, because he said almost in
panic, "Of course not. The last thing I need is them to come cause more chaos in here. Just
keep up the good work taking care of your robot and once the books are rearranged, you may
go home"

With that, the teens were dismissed, handed their bags by the office ladies, and immediately
sent off with Rosa to the large library at school.

*******

"I am going to find that teacher and shove him into a pool while he sleeps" Damian said
sourly, placing another biology book in its place, obscuring Brook's view of his face from the
other side of the shelf.

Moving a little to the side, Brook was able to see Damian's frown in a gap between two
books. As she placed some books back on higher shelves, the girl couldn't help but say, "I'm
just glad we weren't expelled. Plus, we had an evening free of...duties anyways"

The librarian, an old lady with graying hair and frail limbs, had left thirty minutes ago,
leaving the teens to finish their punishment to the other half of the library. Despite her age,
she promised both teens hell if they fought in her library, leaving them with that threat in
mind.

It had taken them 3 hours just to re-stack half of the books, at which point Brooklyn was
cursing all those who couldn't be bothered to return them to their proper places.

After dealing with some text from her friends (in which they laughed at their predicament),
the two had been told they had all the time they needed to finish their punishment, which left
them alone without the option of visitors allowed.

It wasn't all bad though. Once again, Brook was granted the opportunity to be alone with
Damian without having to pretend to be anything other than themselves...even if this was an
odd setting for that kind of luck.

It was once they made it to the end of the shelf, with empty carts behind them that Brook was
able to smile up at Damian without books in their way.

The music around the library was enchanting, like something out of a story. Originally, the
librarian had only put on music so the eeriness of being alone in school would not distract
them from their work. Brook had not minded at all, but the sounds of ballroom orchestras
were enough to remind her of the times she'd danced with the guy before her.

So she ditched the books left on the little trolley behind her, moving to clasp Damian's hands
into her own, a movement Dami raised a brow at but never shook away from.

He ran his thumbs over the top of her hand fondly, pulling her closer.
Dancing....It was one of the few ways they had connected early on in their acquaintance. One
of the few ways they came to realize being around one another did not have to be torture.
Plus, they were great partners. Now, it was just part of who they were, something she enjoyed
doing with the guy that made her feel safe.

Damian not not seem the least bit amused as she said, "What do you say, Wayne? Care for a
dance in this dusty old library?"

"You've got to be kidding me"

Brooklyn shrugged, but mused to herself, "I guess I could always ask a certain Richard
Grayson to dance with me...."

Before she'd finished her sentence, Damian had taken hold of her waist, bringing her body
close to his own as he placed a strand of hair behind her ear. Though his face was serious, his
eyes seemed to soften when she burst out laughing, promising between chuckles that she was
only kidding about his older brother.

"Dick's dancing is mediocre at best, you're better off dancing with me" Damian said, and
when she placed her arms around his neck, the Wayne did not hesitate to set them moving.
They had to dodge tables, bookcases, even loose chairs, but their dancing did not falter
despite its ridiculousness.

Well, it didn't halt until the pair heard a crash outside.

It wasn't a soft noise from the winds knocking against a trashcan, this noise had been loud
enough to echo in the school halls, all the way past the double doors leading into the library.

Had the librarian come back? Had the janitor come to clean the school?

The clock marked a quarter past 6, which seemed too late for any visit when the librarian has
specified they'd have the school to themselves thanks to some board of education meeting
across town.

Meaning...no one was supposed to be in here.

The halls outside the double doors were dark, but Brooklyn could see the motion sensor
lights come on in their direction with the sound of heavy footsteps.

Both teens paused their dancing, and she grabbed Damian to crouch behind one of the
shelves. It seemed that neither of them had a good feeling about this, unwilling to take
chances.

"Perhaps someone was sent to check up on us?" Damian whispered, but even as they peeked
through the book shelves, he was already taking out the hilt of his katana, letting it expand
into the glowing blade.

Once the Stark beheld what had come through the library doors...she'd realized hiding was
the right choice.
"Der'mo" she cursed silently, expanding her Stark watch over her hand, keeping the blaster
turned off so it wouldn't give up their location to the giant man by the door.

Even Damian let out a few whispered curses in Arabic.

At first glance, the person who practically stormed into the room looked rather normal. He
was a balding man with bright blue eyes and an average build. What set Brook's instincts into
motion was the fact that the frail man had a serpentine smile, a confidence that most civilians
did not possess.

He looked around the two story library frantically, noting the warm glow of the lights and the
two lone backpacks on the table by the main desk...and Rosa.

When he saw the items, the man's smirk turned even more wicked. As he made his way over
to the table, Brook realized something was truly wrong when the mystery man did not bother
going around the other tables in his way.

As this man ran into the first table, he clapped his hands together before him...then his body
began to grow. First his arms, then his chest, all until his once frail body turned into a
muscular monstrosity. Brook was so shocked by the sight of the man turning the size of the
Hulk that she let herself be dragged behind another shelf by Damian, a place they would not
be spotted.

His hand did not leave her own and the two teens locked eyes for a second. All amusement
and mischief from earlier was gone from his eyes, and hers too. They could both feel a battle
arising, this time not some petty crime from the streets of Queens.

This time it was just Brook and Damian, no team to back them up. Like back in Bermuda...

No.

She'd left that behind. Brooklyn had trained all break to be stronger so she'd never feel that
helpless in the face of a fight ever again. This time, she'd be able to handle whatever this was.

"Mahbubi..." Damian whispered in Arabic. My Beloved.

Brook squeezed his hand, nodding to his silent order to keep safe.

"We test for weak spots, take no chances" she whispered, to which Damian quickly added,
"Once we bring him down, we get Rosa and ourselves out of there"

Brook nodded, whispering back "We stick together, cover our blindspots. His size is his
strength, but it also slows down his maneuvers and speed"

"There might be a time limit to his size as well. The human body can't possibly hold itself to
that size without enough nutrients. We can tire him out at least" Damian pointed out,
grabbing a dew thin Bat-shaped 'ninja stars' from the sole of his dress shoes, handing half of
them to Brooklyn.
In return, as the man waltzed his way to Rosa to the beat of the song, Brook handed over one
of her black gauntlets to Dami, expanding the other on her arm not currently busy with a
Stark blaster.

Whoever this guy was, they would not only have to be careful not to die, but also not to kill
him as well.

Though this isn't how they planned to get a lead on this case, it was clearly the best
connection to trouble they had, even if their lives were at risk for it.

They'd both be ok. They were stronger together after all.

From this new view point crouching behind a thicker book shelf, both teens caught sight of
the clown mask in the mutant's back pocket, handing loosely on his now ripped jeans.

The Joker.

This was one of the Joker's mutants...meaning he was here for Damian, possibly Brook as
well if the clown of Gotham recalled the little encounter the two had at the Osborn charity
gala.

The mutant's next words only sealed the confirmation.

"Oh little Wayne! Thank you for making my job so much easier by staying behind at school
today! I have a gift from a friend of yours! Maybe after I give it to you I can gift him your
doll as a means of thanks. Don't you think thats fair little rich boy?" the man's deep voice said
mockingly as he looked around the space, walking towards the two backpacks beside one
another.

The bag had Brook's phone and SHIELD pager. Most importantly, Rosa was there...

The teen was suddenly filled with a roaring anger when the mutant picked up the robot by the
legs, effectively waking up the programing and making the child cry.

The man chuckled at the winter clothes on the baby, the sweater with a knitted Captain
America shield and equally as patriotically colored cotton pants with the symbol of the famed
amazon, Wonder Woman.

It had been an outfit planned by her and Damian's ongoing joke to dress Rosa to annoy the
other. Such fun was demolished in an instant as Brook's school assignment was held by a
mutant that could crush her in half with his thumbs.

Damian did not seem particularly happy either, because with one more nod towards her, the
two let all joy and life vanish from their expressions. There was only anger, death, and
calculated focus in their eyes now.

As quickly as possible, Damian used one of his grappling hooks to shoot a line quickly up to
the roof. The movement caught he eye of the mutant, but when he turned to the shelf on the
left side of the room, the space was already empty.
With deadly focus, Brooklyn eyed the monster two tables away, letting the shadow of a
nearby statue obscure her body. Her gaze honed down on Rosa still crying in distress, and
even through she was just a robot, the rage in Brooklyn's mind rose.

Though Brook would not find it in herself to admit it, Rosa was special to her. Sure, it was
just a doll, one that made Brook loose precious hours of sleep, constantly got her clothes
dirty, and doubled her daily activities.

But that little doll shaped as a baby had been an excuse for Brooklyn and Damian to spend
time together. It taught them that they could be gentle despite being assassins. That even
though they were made into monsters, they still had the skills to do one of the most mundane
acts of humanity, to care for a frail child.

Rosa taught Brook patience, a compassion unlike any she'd experienced before, and the
knowledge that though the teen had been built to destroy...she could still take care of others
as well as save them.

As someone who was never meant to one day have a family, Brooklyn had assumed she'd be
too dangerous and deadly for such a life...but now she knew that kind of kindness existed in
her heart.

Like hell she would let Rosa get hurt...

Even if only because of a class, that robot had Stark in its name. And no one should mess
with a Stark.

Without hesitating, Brook sent a nod up to Damian before pushing herself over a table,
rolling atop the next to gain the momentum to throw one of Damian's Batarangs right at the
mutant's hand.

As soon as his hold released, the teen ignored the man's screams as she quickly dove for
Rosa, having to jump over a table and onto the ground as she caught the baby in her arms just
centimeters from the ground.

Now laying on the floor before the mutant, Brooklyn quickly flipped onto her feet, crouching
like an animal ready to pounce. Though the mutant was busy cradling his hand, eyeing the
blood with anger, Brook did not move yet.

This close, Brook caught a strong whiff of tobacco and smoke. What was truly horrifying was
that this close up, she could tell the man's smile was indeed not natural. His mouth was cut to
his cheeks, just like the Joker and his psychopath followers.

She saw the confusion in the man's eyes at the sight of her, even as he pulled out the metal
bat from his hand, Brook made sure his gaze remained on her and the baby Rosa was
currently swaying side to side in her arm.

Just as the mutant decided killing her wouldn't be a bad idea, Damian swung their way from
behind the mutant. Not to attack. No, as soon as the mutant began running her away,
Brooklyn threw Rosa up in the air, high enough that Damian caught her as he swung by and
kicked the man's head, which was small enough to look odd against his large body.

The mutant stumbled by the surprise impact, enough so that Brook was able to catch him off
guard to blast him with the taser feature of her Stark watch.

His screams were almost unbearable, and because of his size, Brooklyn could actually see the
electricity traveling along the bulged out veins all over his body. His body twitched enough
that his large hands crushed the tables keeping him upright.

At least, that was until his body began growing again, and even as she amped the intensity of
the electricity, the man slowly stopped screaming, replacing his pain with amusement as he
locked his blue eyes onto her own.

He grabbed a nearby table with ease, and with a smirk, threw it her way.

Brook had to stop the flow of electricity to dive out of the way, but as she lunged to the side,
the grappling-hook rope swung her way. without a doubt in mind, Brook grabbed onto it,
letting the rope swing her off the ground just in time to catch Rosa as Damian threw her up in
the air.

As she swung to the rafters above, the teen watched as Dami crouched above a large book
shelf, katana in hand as he jumped to slide under the mutant's legs, only to let the blade cut
through the flesh behind the large knees of their enemy.

Brook considered leaving Rosa up on the rafters, but realized why Damian had not done so
quite quickly. Every time the mutant moved, the ground shook violently, enough so that the
doll could tumble to the ground easily.

So she tried to focus past the sounds of crying, the music still blasting on the speakers, and
the grunts of fighting down below as the mutant tried to punch Damian with only mind
success thanks to his speed.

It was once the mutant's stumbling caused him to turn away from her direction that Brook
braced Rosa on one arm and got ready to jump.

She couldn't help but say to the doll, "Ready for a fun ride, quality time with us? Promise
Dami will catch you"

Rosa did not reply, but did stop crying for a second as the Stark swung down. Damian caught
her eye, and as he moved to avoid a hit that shattered the ground once beneath him, Brook
threw Rosa up into the air, let go of the rope, and as she fell, shot out a more refined blast of
electricity with her gauntlet.

Landing before the screaming mutant, Brook spared a second to see Damian was already
swinging away to the shadows with Rosa in his arms.

Unfortunately, like their previous attacks, the mutant seemed to recover from them rather
quickly. They could keep trying simple hits, but it was clear they would need something more
potent. Brook considered her fire, but in a room full of books...it just screamed trouble.

The Stark tried to blast the man with both her gauntlet and blaster at the same time, right on
his chest. It led to some heavy bleeding, but not enough to stop the mutant from rushing over
to her.

Knowing they couldn't keep going like this expecting not to get hurt (or having to kill the
guy), Brooklyn slid under the rows of tables just as Damian was, she took hold of Rosa, only
to stop by the table with the backpacks as her Wayne attacked with the gauntlet she'd given
him.

She knew Damian would test out the spots they had already hit to check the skin's resistance.
It would distract the mutant enough for Brooklyn to rush to her backpack, scattering all the
contents of the table and frantically looking for what she needed.

She had to avoid a flying desk from decapitating her, an unintentional attack on the mutant's
hand as the Stark searched and searched.....finally.

Though she clearly didn't have time for long calls or even risk talking to GIL, in case the
mutant fled at the prospect of backups, she reached for the SHIELD pager and hit the red
button. Shoving everything under the table, Brooklyn climbed atop it, pulling down the
grappling hook nearby and waisting no time to shoot it not at the roof, but at the man.

Damian had positioned him perfectly on a blindspot, and once the sharp hooks embedded
into the man's side, he let out a scream loud enough to rattle all the windows.

It was enough to almost knock Rosa off the table. That mudak.

Damian took the distraction of the grappling hook as a chance to attack, at which point Brook
had already pressed the button on the gun to pull the mutant backwards. Even when her
hands were busy she maneuvered to use the hand with her Stark watch to blast at the mutant's
knees.

He stumbled, but didn't quite collapse until Damian launched himself off a table and struck
his katana in the man's chest. No vital organs were hit from what Brooklyn could see, but
Damian had been clever in hitting a particularly painful spot by the enlarged ribcage.

Brook wasted no time rushing over to Dami's side, giving him a once over to make sure he
was unharmed. He would only claim a few bruises like Brook. They were both fine.

The mutant was clutching his pierced chest, his screams so feral that they tore at the stitches
on his cheeks. Even so, he yelled, "You idiots! Maybe I won't be able to kill you Wayne, but
the Joker will have your blood one day!"

Damian frowned at the man, looking seconds way from attacking...that was until Rosa began
crying again and both teens outright ignored the bleeding criminal to calm the robot down
with a simple Potts family lullaby that did not fit the situation at all.
Not long after, a series of SHIELD agents arrived, all led by dad's friend, Unc- Agent
Coulson.

Fantastic. She'd been hoping strangers or even Agent Claire would be the one summoned.

They set up a perimeter, inspected the damage, and took the mutant away once he started
shrinking back to normal human size.

Despite their help, both Brook and Damian were forced to stay to get checked for injuries. A
help Damian outright denied as he held Rosa in his arm, that frown of his daring any agents
to question the robot.

Brooklyn almost smiled at the sight, especially because those agents had no clue they were
dealing with Robin, not just Bruce Wayne's son.

Agent Coulson likely had the clearance to know the truth of his identity, but he said nothing
about it or the fact that she and Damian were both at the school library after hours. He merely
dismissed Damian and told him to get home if he felt capable for it.

"What about the Stark?" he asked, keeping his concern hidden.

Agent Coulson smiled kindly and explained, "Miss Stark must stay behind for a debriefing.
Since neither of you were harmed and the damage was minimal, we'll make sure the school is
unaware of what happened here tonight"

Damian scoweled.

"And the mutant? Are you going to interrogate him?"

Coulson nodded, "Once he's in confinement he will be asked about the Joker's whereabouts.
The Justice league will be notified afterwards since this involves you Mr. Wayne. You may
leave now"

Dami seemed like he'd stay behind, and a part of Brook wanted to keep him close after he'd
just been targeted. Yet, she also knew this SHIELD business would not mix well with him, so
she sent him a reassuring nod.

Go. Get home safe. She said silently.

Damian hesitated, but eventually got his backpack and Rosa, leaving the room in a whirlwind
of seriousness that caused the agents to back away from him. It wasn't until Coulson saw
Roscoe leave through the school windows that he turned to her, smile gone from his face.

Great. Now the fun would begin.

Not only was the Joker back to being a bother (meaning they'd all have to be more careful),
but the search for that idiot and whoever his boss was almost felt like a more pressing
priority.

That mutant had come to kill, not capture...that much was clear.
Why was it always the two of them getting attacked or getting into trouble?

Maybe Mr. Morita was onto something...

****

Coulson had led Brook to a spacious SHIELD van in the school parking lot. The sun had set
long ago and snow was starting to fall once more, not that she could tell from within where
there were no windows, only a two person metal table, chairs, and a recoding device.

Before being allowed back home, Brooklyn still had something to take care of.

Now that she was an official shield agent, the Stark had to sit through an AAA (After Action
Assessment).

All she wanted was to go back home, contact the team and figure out what to do next. But no,
she had to sit before Coulson, who had gone into agent mode as he explained that because of
her encounters with he Joker, Brook was practically considered an SME. Subject matter
expert.

This is why they had to 'interview' her on what had occurred tonight. If Damian wasn't the
son of cranky and billionaire Bruce Wayne, Coulson might've forced Damian to give his side
of the story as well, but according to the agent, it was more trouble than it was worth. After
all, Brook was an agent now, her reputation as an agent was on the line when it came to
telling the truth.

"Is this really necessary? I stopped the problem" Brook said, frowning at the old fashioned
tape recorder before them, then turning to the half dozen cameras she'd already found inside
the small space.

Agent Coulson seemed like a kind man all the times Brooklyn had seen him around the
compound. Dad certainly seemed to like him enough to mention having bought this man a
vacation once. She knew very little on him though, only that he'd been 'killed' by Loki during
the battle of New York, and that he was a high ranking agent along with Agent Hill.

Fury trusted him, mom respected him...

The question was, what to say and not say?

To answer her voiced question from earlier, the man replied, "Battles don't just end on
battlefields, we need to get stories straight for records. Now that you are a higher level agent,
your father nor the Avengers can do these for you. In fact, unless they look it up, they won't
be notified since there was no lasting damage"

There was a small relief at least. Explaining to dad that she got detention with a Wayne
would've been bad, that she'd almost been killed by a hulk-sized mutant...that would've been
worse.

"So now I'm being questioned for always being in the wrong place at the wrong time?" she
asked, leaning back on her uncomfortable metal chair.
"You're being questioned for being a witness" Coulson corrected, arms crossed over his suit
as he added, "This problem with the alien weapons is becoming something big, its caused a
lot of deaths, damage, and even resulted in the disappearance of one of your own"

Banner. He was referring to Uncle Banner.

Though Brook did not really mention it much, there was a place in her workroom dedicated
to tracking down the kind doctor. Sure, most of the room was filled with maps and papers on
the alien weapons and the assassins, but like Tony, Brooklyn had not given up on Bruce
Banner.

Some part of her knew he could never be harmed, but him being gone had been a small worry
in the back of her mind at times.

Dad had tracked his whereabouts recently, found he and the gods had been somewhere in
Scotland last. The place showed signs of destruction, traces of a struggle, and nothing left to
show for it.

The Avengers all hated to think he was dead, but as the days passed with no sign of the
Hulk...even Brooklyn was fearing the worst.

Coulson was right though, this was getting out of hand. And it seemed the enemy was
unleashing their dogs once more, starting with an attack from the Joker to weaken Batman.

"Fine" Brooklyn said, cradling her sweater close as Coulson handed over a mug of coffee,
keeping his own close. The drink itself tasted dull, nothing like the coffee she used to brew
back in her days working at the diner. It at least had enough coffee to keep her awake.

The man started off by looking at her file with a small smile, " Wherever you go, it seems
guns tend follow, Miss Stark"

Always. Just like Mr. Morita had said.

"I can handle guns, sir. Its all the other stuff that's making me weary. But I would think a little
questioning like this doesn't matter much" she replied, trying to ignore the constant buzzing
from her phone, likely due to her friends.

"Everyone matters, agent"

Brook bit back her chuckle, saying instead, "How very touching, sir"

"It matters once the weapons are fired, as bullets begin to fly and everyone is looking for
something or someone to blame" the agent said.

After a sip of her coffee, Brook sighed out, "Then I guess thats why we're here"

"Indeed, agent"

Brook spent the next half hour recounting her story of the happenings of tonight, leaving out
the detention, the dancing, and possible flirting with her family enemy.
She focused on the mutant, which Coulson did not seem to mind.

It was once the school was cleared and all was in place that she filed a classified report, top
secret, and encrypted. It would likely be left in an office drawer somewhere in the compound,
but at least she'd done her 'Agent duty'.

It was Coulson who drove her home, and considering it was that agent that had brought her
old belongings to the new apartment when she moved, Brook did not question his lack of
need for instructions. She just thanked him, moved her ass upstairs, texted everyone all was
well, then crashed into bed.

As per usual, she and Dami spent hours on their walkie-talkies, discussing what had
happened, new security measures they'd implement, and their mutual agreement that things
were going to shit once again.

One good thing about it all was that they had each other.

They were stronger that way, at things would remain as such...whatever it takes.
 The Pentagon Request

Brooklyn POV-

The rest of the week was focused on one goal;

Find the Joker.

Their patrol schedules were doubled, and while Yelena and Ned focused on looking at
security feeds, Brook and Damian going out to spy and do some detective work around the
bad parts of the city, neither them nor the rest of the team had found any solid evidence that
the Joker was around.

Jon focused more on the police reports, but even the police was stumped on what to do,
unwilling to team up with the heroes simply because they refused to give up their identities.
Unfortunately, that was an understandable fear.

How could you trust someone if you didn't know who they were?

Even with Peter's and Jon's enhanced senses, they had not been able to find any clues when
questioning those captured under the Joker's influence.

By the end of the week, everyone was understandably frustrated, but that did not stop Brook
and Yelena from trying to work out a way to track him using their espionage knowledge.

They'd quickly deduced that Brooklyn's plan to use an ancient tracker had worked
wonderfully once, so they should stick to that kind of tech that could not be traced back to
them.

Until they found the clown, they were currently running various programs that checked
airports with face scans, using government satellites that could track store cameras, and even
going as far as to keep an eye on Joker fanatic websites to see if those lunatics had spotted
him.

It was almost comical how many laws they were breaking to do hero work, but at the same
time, the teens were trying to be responsible about it. In their eyes, they'd realized most of the
adults were too busy fighting amongst one another to really do much, so their humble plan
was to try and do what they could themselves.

Yes, Brook and Yelena had been holed up in their ballet room doing all this investigating, but
part of their focus was on something far greater and important in their eyes. It was something
that could either destroy everything they knew, or could very well seem like a miracle sent
from a heaven neither girl believed in very much.

Nat was on a date today....with the one and only Steven Rogers.
It had taken quite a lot of convincing and successful manipulating from both teens to
convince Nat to use her day off for something like this, more effort than they had wagered.

Now, neither of them knew much about dates, even when Brooklyn was with Dami, she still
had no clue how they worked. Luckily, Grandpa Steve had grown a pair of balls and decided
to do the asking and planning himself.

By Nat's own words, the pair weren't dating yet, but rather courting to see if them being
together was a good idea, something Brooklyn understood. The funny thing was, Steve was a
great hero and a kind man, but his mind was still stuck in the 40s. He'd arrived at Nat's room
dressed in an elegant suit (one that seemed brand new, no doubt payed for by dad) and a
bouquet of flowers in hand.

It had taken everything in Brook's taught restraint not to laugh at the sight of the mighty
Captain America with combed back hair, here to pick up Nat for a nice dinner and a walk
around park, it was even more amusing when he noticed the two ex-assassins in the room and
went beet red.

They had not snuck in, no...as soon as Nat rushed over to them with the news of the planned
date, the teens with absolutely no experience in dating attire went to help their sestra out pick
something to wear.

They'd quickly realized Nat only owned a few things, essential things. Most of her wardrobe
was workout clothes, some leather jackets, jeans, t-shits, and lots and lots of guns and
ammunition.

Luckily, Brooklyn was 'The Princess of New York', so she had a whole closet full of gifted
dresses from elegant brands for Natasha to try to fit into.

So while Steve was dressed like an old man with his polished shoes and trusty handkerchief,
Nat was much more casual for the event, in an attire no one from the 40s would've likely
deemed appropriate. Nat had picked a simple black dress that hugged her curves and rested
just above her knee, that paired with some comfortable shoes, a red leather jacket, and
again...lots and lots of hidden weapons, the woman had looked like the complete opposite of
Steve.

They gave the Captain permission to take Nat out around the city, with Yelena's calm and
serious reminder to bring her back by midnight. That had earned both girls a comical and
fierce nod from Steve, but a cluster of pillows to the face from Nat.

Despite the embarrassing start to their first date, everything seemed to be going fine now.

Nat had texted them that Steve took her to some old style restaurant with swing dancing and
lovely food. They both hadn't danced much, but their sestra seemed to be having a fun time
teasing the ever righteous Captain.

Yelena had argued they should go spy on the pair, but then both teens realized they weren't
too keen to die so soon, especially by Natasha Romanova's hands.
They'd settled for mild teasing, most of it from Brooklyn who still had a better idea of how
emotions worked than the blonde.

As expected, Nat did not hesitate to fire back at them with comments about a certain Kent
whom Yelena was often caught texting now that she had her own phone (courtesy of Fury).
Brooklyn's comments about Peter were not as bothersome, not when she kept the true object
of her affections hidden from everyone's eyes.

Speaking of Fury....

Just as the two teens were starting a conversation about the blessed absence of their robot
children, the Director of SHIELD walked in as if he owned the place. He looked like a grim
reaper in all his dark clothes...and with the news be came to deliver, he might as well have
been a true bringer of morbidness.

"Agent Stark," he said, voice deep and loud, "I need to talk to you"

Great, what had she done now? Plus, it was still odd to be regarded as AGENT of all things,
but considering her past, it wasn't the worst thing to be called.

Brooklyn knew the man was not exactly happy she'd become a 'hero' without his approval,
but they'd already convinced Fury accept the circumstances (even if that meant more training
for Brook, Yelena, and Pete).

The man did not look mad now, instead, he seemed to be troubled...calculating and somewhat
hesitant.

"Is my dad back from his mission?" Brook asked hopefully, only to earn a simple no from the
emo pirate. He eyed the equipment scattered on the floor, but said nothing about its contents
as Brooklyn had expected.

He'd come on a mission today.

"I just received a call that Ivan wishes to speak to you. The mother fucker requested you and
you only" he said, which felt like a boulder had been dropped on her back.

Ivan...well, Brooklyn had tried not to spare the man much thought lately. He was locked up in
the pentagon where he belonged after all.

She heard updates about the man from Nat sometimes, when the eldest of the widows spoke
of Ivan's quiet nature, his lack of response to questionings or tortures for answers on the Red
Room.

None of the captured assassins had spoken either, none of them as successful when it came to
rehabilitation like Yelena had. They were all quiet and unmoving inter cells, like dogs waiting
for a master to shout orders.

In some ways, Brooklyn knew she'd have to face Ivan again, had felt it so deep into her bones
that this fight with the man was not over. But him requesting to speak to her...that just
screamed bad news, she said as much when she declined Fury's request with a surpassing
amount of bite in her voice.

Fury moved closer then, not taking a seat on the floor with the girls, but at a nearby desk Nat
liked to use to finish paperwork in here. He eyed the sitting Yelena, who seemed frozen in
place at the mention of their old leader.

Dare Brook say...was that concern in Fury's eyes?

Turning back to Brook, the man said in a serious tone, "Ivan has been asking to speak to you
since he was put in that cell, Tony has personally declined all requests. He even threatened to
go kill the bastard a few times"

Dad had done that? Why was Brook not surprised?

In a way, it was flattering that her father felt the need to avenge her, a comforting gesture
Brook was not sure how to react to.

"Then why tell me this now? Because dad is on a mission?"

Fury'd frown deepened as he leaned forward in Nat's favorite chair, and with a tone that sent
surprisingly fearful chills down her spine, the man explained, "No. I'm saying it now became
he's willing to give up information in exchange for your visit"

Ivan might as well have waved stacks of hundred dollar bills at Fury...

Information, stuff Brooklyn as meant to help with as an agent. It was a part of her job and
duty not only to SHIELD, but to the country.

Looking at the computers before her, Brook was even more aware they had no leads on the
Red Room. They need something to help, to finally put an end to this tangled web of
mysteries.

The Red Room people they caught had said nothing so far, none of the assassins had, but that
was not just out of loyalty...they were only cut outs, people who were nobodies and knew
nothing, they just know to keep their mouths shut and follow orders.

Ivan was the only prisoner who knew anything worthwhile...

Maybe it was all a trap, and perhaps Brooklyn would NEVER be ready to face Ivan, but this
was something she knew deep in her bones that she had to do. Fury knew it too, thats why
he'd come by personally instead of giving someone else the job to deliver the news. That why
he hadn't given an order, but given a choice.

After what happened at the library, the peace of before seemed like it was starting to come to
an end. The Joker was starting to grow bold again, and perhaps the assassins would as well.

It didn't matter if she wanted to avoid Ivan forever. She had no choice but to go.
When Brooklyn felt warmth gather at her hands, she pushed back the fire, focusing on the
memories of Damian's text from a few hours ago, one where he mentioned Selina had forced
him to take Rosa out on a stroller for a walk on their back yard.

Practice for her, or so she claimed.

The memory of her anchor steadied the rising discomfort, and once she was back, Brooklyn
looked Fury dead in the eye, hating her own words as she said, "Fine, lets go"

Fury seemed hesitant at first, as if he too did not relish the idea of Brooklyn going in there.
Still, the Director stood and made to leave the room, shouting orders to a nearby security
guard to get a helicopter ready for D.C.

Before leaving the room, Brook caught sight of Yelena's frown, the beginnings of a
concerned expression forming on her delicate face. The blonde was not happy with the choice
either, but she understood the need for the sacrifice for sure.

Just as Brook stood, she dared to whisper, "Don't tell anyone where I've gone, I doubt Fury
will either. Tell the team though, tell them where I'm going and if I don't come back by
midnight...tell Damian to initiate rescue protocol"

Yelena nodded in understanding, not even hesitating to take out her new phone to reach the
private group chat they operated with.

Damian would be worried by her actions, something Brooklyn hated to do especially when
he was spending time with his step mom. Hopefully, he too would understand how important
this was to their mission.

Yelena still whispered a hesitant suggestion to be careful, not from a physical attack, but one
with words that poisoned and tricked.

It was with that thought that Brook followed Fury to the helicopter, feeling the healing whip
slash on her back almost burn in horrified anticipation to see Ivan once more.

*********

The Pentagon was a place Brooklyn was once trained to infiltrate with ease, but its
complexity was far beyond her current skills, far beyond that of any widow.

Good.

Brook had to go through so many security checkpoints, enduring metal scanners, giving up
her weapons and even having to give up her coat and shoes for safety measures.

It was once she made it to the actual prisoner wing that Brooklyn realized she was both
horrified and eased by the sight of reinforced steel and vibranium, making it all practically
indestructible.

She was safe...theoretically.

Thanks to Fury, Brook had been allowed to go inside without an escort. As a bonus, she'd
been able to persuade the Director to keep the audio off, just in case Ivan mentioned things he
shouldn't say.

None of these government agents needed to know of her past...in fact, they were probably
quite confused as to what the girl was doing here in the first place. She'd played it off as
doing a favor for Fury by using her leant Russian to hold a conversation with Ivan.

Still, before Ivan's large steel door was opened, Brook was silently given a small button no
larger than her thumb.

"Press it and we'll come in if you need us Miss Stark" the man in the pentagon uniform said,
then added softly, "Be careful with that one, he's dangerous"

Oh, Brooklyn knew that with personal experience.

Before she could think too much on the stupidity of her actions, she nodded for the door to be
opened, listening to the wail of sirens and the red lights that flared as the large doors before
her opened.

They were labeled with the number 7, the seventh prisoner admitted to this highly secured
prison...

Sooner than she would've liked, the doors opened, revealing an extending walkway leading to
a glass cell in the middle of the hollow space. Brooklyn walked on the appearing bridge with
caution, knowing somewhere above her, hidden by the stone around them, Fury and others
were likely watching.

The closer she got, the more Brook was able to see Ivan at last. His glass room was simple,
with a cot, wash basin, a toilet, and a small table in which the man was seated at now. When
the bridge connected to his cell, the man turned, clearly not expecting Brooklyn of all people.

Perhaps he was due for a meal...he did look skinnier than the last time they'd faced off.

Those silver eyes seemed to gleam with a newfound joy as the bridge retracted and Brooklyn
was left not choice but to walk inside.

The place was neat, if not sterile enough to be smelled in the air. The teen turned to the
cameras at the corners fo the cell, watching them all turn off one by one as per Fury's
promise.

Now she was alone with the wolf...

When she dared to really look at him, take in the neat brown hair, the white restraining jacket
that held his arms across his chest, and the subtle bruises on his visible skin....that when
Brooklyn felt her blood run cold.

He was seated before a chess set, one that was undisturbed. That smirk of his sent a chill
down her spine, but not enough for her to dare begin a conversation.
Ivan still looked way too comfortable to be here, too pleased to see her.

It was him who spoke first, waiting until the bridge made its way back to the entrance of the
cell with a deafening noise.

"How wonderful to be visited by the great and famous Brooklyn Stark, I'm sure you must
have a busy schedule" he said, accent strong, voice lazed with venom at the mention of her
name.

Brooklyn reminded herself that he was the one locked up, that he was harmless and she was
strong. Fury may be an asshole most days, but he'd never leave her here.

It was with a steady voice and blank face that she replied, "A busier schedule than you must
have sitting here doing nothing"

The man nodded, leaning back in his chair with a Cheshire smirk meant to unnerve her.

"I've been wondering how you've been, malyutka" he said casually.

Little one...thats what she was to him, just a child...but she'd grown, become something else
that was not his. All she had to do was remember that.

Never mind that it made her uneasy to know Ivan thought of her, likely plotting revenge as he
rotted in this cell...

"I'm much better with you in here"

Ivan chuckled loudly, a noise she attributed to what the man used to sound like when
someone made a mistake in the Red Room, or when a death was near in his eyes.

It was yet another chilling reminder of all she tried not to remember most days.

"I'm curious about you" he said, taking in her appearance as he added, "Its not every day a
widow allies with a League member, much less Talia's ruthless heir. It still puzzles me that
Damian Al Ghul was willing to die with you"

Damian.

Something about hearing Ivan speak of him made her see red, made Brooklyn want to put a
restraining jacket on his mouth. But she was here for a reason, and Ivan was just trying to test
her.

With all the calm in the world, Brooklyn hid her emotions and said, " We were both
displeased to be there, so we temporarily set out differences aside to escape. An alliance"

Ivan clicked his tongue, frowning at her statement.

"That doesn't explain why he chose to die a most unpleasant death. No assassin would care
for another, he could've escaped easier after your death" Ivan challenged.
It was true.

Keeping her calm in mind, Brooklyn replied bitterly, "His people value honor"

Ivan scoffed, "Not when personal death is involved. No assassin would die for another unless
it was their master or they were ordered to do so and you know that"

Brooklyn leaned on the glass wall, keeping on the other side of the room and as far from Ivan
as possible as she replied with all the confidence she could muster, "Ra's grandson and I,
we're both not assassins anymore by the looks of it, those rules don't apply for us. Now tell
me what you know or I'm leaving"

That wasn't threat, she really did want to leave. The button hidden in her palm was almost
inching to get pressed and she was one comment away from doing so. Lying to Ivan was not
something she was confident in doing for too long after all.

Ivan gestured to the chair on the other side of his small table, a silent invitation to join him.
Brook would rather dine with a lion...she stayed where she was.

He did not seem to like that.

With a little more discontentment, Ivan said, "My cruel daughter comes to see me at last, yet
she treat me like a stranger"

"I'm not your daughter" she replied angrily, fighting the urge to bash his head against the
thick glass.

With a chuckle, Ivan shook his head in disbelief.

"Clearly so. Its like I taught you nothing"

Now it was Brook's turn to sigh in disgust, she could only think to reply, "I wish that were the
case. You better tell me what you want or I'll leave, I won't warn you again"

The man seemed offended, but spoke slower as if he was trying to get her to understand. He
replied, "I am, but you're not thinking right. What have I always said? Its not the first attack
that matters..."

Brook finished almost automatically like a broken record, "Its the second move that matters.
The second shot, the second attack"

Ivan nodded, clearly waiting for her to realize something.

It was always like that with him. Never focus on the first attack, think about what your
enemy will think you will do...what they want to bait you into doing. When someone fires a
shot and misses, it's usually to guide the person somewhere for a clearer shot.

Sometimes, the first shot was meant to hit the target, but it was the second that was fired to
slow the flow of blood to the nervous system.
But why bring that up?

"So these attacks, the weapons being let loose to any and all criminals. Thats the first attack,
a front?" she guessed out loud, feeling her head ache with the possibilities.

Ivan smirked, urging her to continue with a raised brow as he moved a single piece on the
board with a flexible foot.

It felt like the old days, his trying to get her to understand, but never giving her the answer
outright. A test of wits, only this time, Brooklyn's life was not on the line.

Brook added with a little more certainty, "They wanted the heroes to get involved, to try and
stop whatever was happening. Otherwise, why target me or the Wayne if not to get the
Avengers and the Batman of Gotham involved"

Another piece on the board was moved.

Almost as if she was being quizzed, Ivan asked "And your countermove will be?"

Suddenly, it was as if Ivan had been right. She hadn't been thinking lately, not like a spy and
assassin at least. Brook had been to focused to do things as SHIELD or the Avengers would
do to realize it all...

"Shit" she couldn't help but curse as she paced the space, "there is only one countermove, and
we've been doing it! Hunting them down because we can't juts ignore the problem. There was
only one thing to do, the obvious move"

Ivan nodded again, looking comfortable in his seat as he watched her freak out. He moved
another piece in his chess set, knowing down one of the white pieces with the black Queen.

Confidently he said, "You fight the puppets, get worn out, make the job of the puppeteer all
the easier. Why declare war with all heroes when you can beat them before hand?"

Brooklyn felt hot rushing panic fill her veins...they'd been losing long before the game had
even begun...

These events were just little pieces of a larger puzzle, redundancies with people like the Joker
who were not big picture individuals. This was all a game of a cat chasing mice, only to be
eaten by something bigger when the cat grew tired and weak.

But it couldn't be all...

Brook knew that everything Ivan once said to her was a lie. He'd been more than willing to
torture her before all the assassins, even worse, he'd been willing to kill Damian as well.
Brook couldn't let him know how much the Wayne mattered to her. The chances of Ivan
getting out of this prison were microscopic, but never zero.

Despite the lies, there was no greater spy, no one knew Russian intelligence like he did, and
he likely knew who the true enemy was.
He also hadn't lied about the lessons he'd given her growing up either.

Brook knew that on nights with full moons, the sky was too lit up to be discrete, that just
because you could see an enemy better, it was not worth the fact that they could see you too.
Ivan taught her how to stay hidden for years until dad found her. He was the man who'd
taught Brook how to fire a German pistol, how to use a Russian sniper rifle and how to spot
one.

Years and years of training with that man went by until she became the best of the best.

But he hadn't taught Brook how to move past it all, likely why she was failing so miserably at
it...except Damian was helping, her family and friends were too.

Ivan had likely used this method of the past not to taunt, he likely hadn't told her the answer
outright to let her figure it out so she wouldn't deem it a lie. Meaning...he was right.

"Whys is this happening? Why would someone go through great lengths to hire all the
assassins just to kill?" she inquired, more for herself than Ivan.

The silence that followed held no answers.

As if fed up by said silence, Ivan asked casually, "Remember when I promised to teach you
more than killing, to make you an unbreakable weapon twice as dangerous as any other until
you could take a life with a single flick of your finger?"

Brooklyn stiffened as she came to a stop, wondering what the point of this new topic was.

With Ivan, there was always a purpose for everything...

The teen nodded hesitantly, adding "I asked you why there was need for killing in the first
place that day"

He smirked, eyes going distantly for a second as if he too recalled the day four year old
Brooklyn had dared to inquire something for the first time.

"Yes, you asked why. I told you that the why is for Americans, my little spider"

Problem was...they why was important now. The why might help put an end to all this.

"I don't care if you can't be bothered with explanations, I'm trying to save lives here" she
replied angrily, with only seemed to make Ivan amused.

He stood up from the chair, which almost made Brooklyn press the concealed button in hand.
Ivan merely moved to stand before her, looking down at the Stark's smaller frame with
amusement, yet showing no move to attack.

"All this caring about lives...it's all for nothing. We aren't saints, little one. When someone
like us dies, no one mourns" he said, and some part of Brook that held on to her past crimes
felt the comment like a slap in the face.
"I'm not an assassin anymore" Brooklyn said back, fighting the urge to yell or back away as
she added, "I'm not like you, not now"

Ivan smirked, gray eyes glinting with the lights above as he said in a whisper, as if it were a
secret to be shared, "You're a ticking time bomb little spider, it will only be a matter of time.
You won't be able to escape it, not me, not your home...mother Russia. My only wish is to be
there when you detonate...to see you burn"

Brook felt warmth pool at her hands, could feel her eyes shift into that glowing flame. As
much as she wanted to tell him he was wrong or burn a whole through his skull, Brooklyn
kept her calm...remembering her friends, family, Damian, and all of those innocents she was
fighting for.

It occurred to her Ivan was the person to ask about this....these abilities. But he'd likely only
taunt her regardless. Let him think the fire didn't bother her, that she was in complete control
of the monstrosity he'd turned her into.

"I see, still pissed I betrayed you?"she said, fighting to keep her voice calm.

Ivan moved closer then, tilting his head to the side as if she'd said something absurd.

"I'm not mad. I'm disappointed" he said with a deep frown, "You are weak now, not thinking
with your brain but with your heart. Stop fighting your instincts and you will be able to stop
the catastrophic chaos that is to come, but only if you let go of this foolish behavior"

"Foolish behavior?" Brooklyn spat back, "What's foolish is showing me around to the other
assassins as your heiress only to try and kill me in public!"

Ivan was not bothered by her raised voice, nor was he amused by the fact she finally brought
something up about their last encounter. Like he'd been expecting it.

"I had to show I would do whatever it took to get rid of traitors. If I was willing to sacrifice
my heir, then my authority would not be questioned and you know that. So why bring it up?"
Ivan said.

Honestly, she wasn't sure why. Brooklyn was angry at Ivan in a way that words would not
suffice to explain. She hated that he was so calm, that he'd tortured Yelena for years the way
he had with Nat and Brook.

Maybe she hated the fact that he was right. She'd found out more about this mess thinking
like a Red Room agent in five minutes than she had this past week thinking like a SHIELD
agent.

Ivan wanted Brooklyn to revert back to her old ways, selling the idea to her as the price to
pay to save lives and put a stop to this. But no....she was not that any longer. Brooklyn had an
amazing family, a promising future to do good as both a hero and as a CEO, not to mention
her friends and Damian.
She swore never to be like that again, and nothing Ivan could say would change that new
sense of morality in her.

Now she knew they had to be unpredictable, to think past the weapons and petty crimes. It
wasn't much but Brooklyn knew Ivan wouldn't say anything more than that.

Brook could torture him, and he wouldn't break.

Before she could think to do anything stupid, Brooklyn decided enough was enough, moving
towards the glass door as she pressed the button that set the bridge back into motion.

Not bothering to turn around, she said over her shoulder, "Before you think of brining in your
personal military police force, or hope for your contacts in the S.R.V, K.G.B, or the G.R.U,
whoever you have in your pocket now...know they won't be able to get you out of here"

To her surprise, Ivan just laughed at her words. He laughed and laughed until the creaking of
a bed cloud be heard, and the man laid down peacefully on his cot.

Though his eyes were closed, he said loud and clear, "What makes you think I want to leave
this highly secured cell? Did you know that when the meteorite that killed the dinosaurs
struck, it was only the small bugs overlooked by all that survived by going underground?
When the chaos erupts outside, I'll be safe in here...so I suggest you find a cell of your own
little one, that is, if you wish to live"

The glass door opened, but Brooklyn was stunned in place.

He wasn't bluffing...something really bad was going to happen and he knew it.

"Why would you care if something were to happen to me? You were more than ready to kill
me for a spectacle" she spat back, not bothering to face the man.

Almost as if in a whisper, he said calmly, "Because you will come back to where you belong
one day, you will be a widow once more and assume your place as my heiress of the Red
Room"

Ivan was delusional. He had to be after being in here for weeks...

Not bothering to amuse him by replying to his outlandish wishes, Brooklyn took a step out of
the cell, not seeing but rather hearing the air-tight glass door snap back into place behind her.

As she made her way to the bridge, Ivan shouted, "Best wishes to my other favorite widows,
my other trophies that helped put me where. The long lost Tsarina....and my daughter"

Brook almost fell off the platform to a most unpleasant death at the words.

Yelena....was HIS daughter!? Now that Brook through about it, Yelena had never mentioned
her parents, likely knew nothing if she'd been captured as a baby. But she could have also
been born there like Brook had right?
Ivan had not said that word, daughter, the way he did in relation to Brook and the other
widows...

It had to be a bluff, a way to make Brook hesitate and come back and prod him for answers
he wouldn't be wiling to give. Looking back at him, she noticed he was already smirking at
her...not an ounce of hesitation in his eyes.

If he could be believed, then Natasha really was a Romanov, a long lost ruler of Russia...and
Yelena...she had an equally shocking family. Ivan had never been seen with a lover, but it was
rather odd that he'd never taken anyone to rule with him now that she thought about it.

Despite knowing this was bait, Brooklyn dared to ask for her friend, "And the supposed
mother of Yelena?"

Ivan's smirk became unnervingly wider.

He would not answer.

Rather than fall into his spider web like an idiot, Brook cut her losses and let the bridge guide
her back to safety. Before she could no longer see him, the Stark noted how with a simple
kick, Ivan knocked down all the pieces on the chess board. All of them.

She only mentioned half of what Ivan said to Fury, mostly only the fact they they've been
playing pawns this whole time.

The teen left with more questions than answers. She wasn't sure what to do about Yelena
most of all. Either Yelena knew who her father was and she was loyal to him, and thus
betraying them...or she truly had no idea and the day she figured it out might change her
allegiance after all.

No.

Thats what Ivan wanted her to think. Yelena was a friend, she was family and part of the
team. Still, one of these days, it might prove useful to confirm Ivan's claims and trust that
telling Yelena would change nothing.

At least now she left feeling no fear for Ivan, but instead a rush of anger.

She let Fury do what he will with that information, once the helicopter landed with he rise of
the night sky, Brooklyn ignored the escorts and rushed inside...only to find Natasha was back,
arms crossed, waiting at the entrance of Brook's room.

**********

Natasha POV-

It was still snowing outside when Brooklyn led Nat into her room, leaving her coat on the
bed.
Nat had noticed Brook's absence when she came back from her date with Steve, and though
she was still riding the high from the successful day, she couldn't help but worry when she
noticed Yelena in her newly assigned room, talking frantically on the phone.

It took seconds to figure out a helicopter was missing, that Fury had taken it...even less time
to find the destination was set for the pentagon.

That meant only one thing...Ivan.

Brook looked rattled enough that Nat knew thats exactly where she had been, something the
Widow had hoped would never happen. But Brooklyn wasn't just unnerved, she was pacing,
mumbling, running a hand through her red hair over and over as if to quell an ache.

The teen did not acknowledge FRIDAY's message from Sam to go downstairs to grab
leftover pizza, nor did she stop her pacing once.

Taking a seat on her bed, Nat asked the obvious question, "You talked to Ivan?"

Brooklyn halted, back facing the Avenger as she let out a bitter laugh.

"I wouldn't call that a conversation" she said, "It was more like he was taunting a piece of
meat out of my reach for what felt like hours"

Nat had expected as much. Ivan was a man of many secrets, of many allies but no friends to
trust. If possible, that man would die carrying the secrets of the world with him...after making
sure to use them to his advantage.

Why Fury had deemed this visit so important was beyond her, but everyone was getting their
own share of frustration over this situation with all the alien weapons. The government still
did not trust those that went against the accords, they had Nat, Steve, and all the others with
trackers on their ankles on a tight leash.

They'd all gotten into quite a few arguments with government officials over where they were
being allowed to be sent on missions and Natasha couldn't say she was very happy about it.

Right now, there was a period of calm, a peace that always came before a large storm.

"Got nothing from him?" Nat asked, discarding her own leather jacket on the bed casually as
she did so.

Brook turned then, eyes hiding a frantic panic deep within.

"Aside from vague warnings and memories of the past, no" she answered truthfully.

Ivan had likely wanted to throw the Stark off her axis, perhaps all the man wanted was to see
just how different Brook truly was now. He knew Nat would only ever go to that cell to
torture him, and Yelena was clearly just another lost agent to him. All he had to attack was
poor Brooklyn.
The kid had it tough, but she'd been handling everything like a champ as any SHIELD agent
or Avenger should. Hell, the kid was a hero of Queens now, something Natasha was
incredibly proud of, even if she couldn't say it outright just yet.

Maybe what the teenager needed right now was not an interrogation, but something to take
her mind off the events of today. Seeing as though Brook hadn't brought her robot child for
the weekend, Nat chose to distract the girl with good ol' fashioned training.

They both met with Clint at one of the training facilities in the seventh floor of the
compound, the biggest by far. It was equipped with every weapon imaginable, and the best
holographic training programs courtesy of Tony's boredom.

Clint did not ask why Brooklyn looked lost in though, he merely put on some punching pads
and told her to go at it. Nat watched as the teen got into position almost by instinct, as she
went through punching combinations with strong blows and efficient swings.

While Nat stretched, the girl managed to get through quite a few rounds of that in silence, in
which time the widow managed to signal to Clint that this had something to do with Ivan.

She and Clint had been friends through enough to know what that meant, so he let the teen
punch away. Now that everyone was convinced Brooklyn had a better hold on her fire-based
abilities, Nat knew she didn't have to worry about her friend loosing a hand or anything.

Knowing Tony wouldn't be back till tonight and Yelena was busy in training of her own,
Natasha knew that if anyone was going to get Brooklyn out of this funk after seeing Ivan, it
would have to be her. Perhaps Brook would be willing to go into depth on all that was said
later on, but for now, Nat and Clint focused on their usual training with the Stark.

Since Brooklyn came back from the Bermuda Triangle, Nat noticed a shift in her. Some
might call it an awakening, a spark of confidence, but Natasha just saw it as a new drive to
improve herself.

The teen had pushed her hesitations and fears aside to master the fire abilities she possessed,
had spent hours at Xavier's for weeks if only to take off those vibranium bracelets off. It
wasn't just her 'power' that Brook cared in improving...no, she'd made Nat and Clint swear to
train her harder from now on, to teach her all the assassin skills she had yet to learn when she
left the Red Room, even if she had learned more than most.

Natasha could tell that focus was not as a result of fear for her life.

This was about not being able to save herself...and if Nat dared to guess, it probably had
something to do with the Wayne being there too.

So they spent hours in the training room, teaching Brooklyn new skills to take her mind off
the visit Natasha was still debating giving Fury a good fight for. Even Clint looked a little
angered that such a meeting had been allowed with so little preparation, and no Avengers
there to make sure the Stark was safe.
Oh...when the team found out...Tony and Steve might just stop their teenage arguing to team
up against Fury for once.

Brook was a strong girl, likely had been since birth. Yet, recently, when the team spoke of
her...they could only view her as family. She was Tony's and Pepper's daughter of course, but
everyone was just as attached...especially after her kidnapping.

Her life being in danger was no joke to them.

It appeared that Nat knew her sestra well enough after all, because after hours of exercise,
Brooklyn's breathing was back to normal and her stance seemed to have relaxed at last.

Clint, on the other hand, was ready to call it quits for the day. Her friend was getting old for
sure.

After taking a sip of a water bottle, Brooklyn turned to Nat and shot her a thankful nod, one
which the woman replied to in kind. There was no need for outlandish hugs or endless words
of thanks between them, not between two widows anyways.

It wasn't until Clint brought up the topic of being glad to leave the compound thanks to his
mission tomorrow that Brooklyn got a glint in her eye that seemed to have momentarily
disappeared when she came back from the Pentagon.

"Speaking of outings" Brooklyn said, "How was your date, sestra ?"

Nat knew this was coming, had dreaded it in a way.

Clint was already smirking like a cat, leaning on his knees and blinking up at Nat innocently
as if he wasn't seconds away from mocking her as well.

The truth was, Natasha was in a bit of a conundrum.

She'd gone on dates before of course, half of those being linked to missions, but they still
counted. Now normally, when Clint decided to get nosy on such as subject, Nat would be
honest and admit there was nothing notable about the experience, that it had been a waste of
time.

This wasn't the first time such a claim would become a lie if said out loud.

Natasha had feared for some time now that her emotions for Steve were changing. Having no
better way to describe it, if felt like a cup overflowing.

He was kind, honest, and though he was Captain America...he was also a very polite and
innocent in an endearing way. Steve grown up with his own hardships and still managed to
become a great man, serum or not.

It was easy to speak to him, more than once Natasha had caught herself oversharing things of
her past which had never happened before. Everything Nat said was always thought out,
calculated, whether that meant telling the truth or not.
With Steve...she just felt safe.

That being said, Natasha's date had been very unusual to say the least. The woman explained
to the two nosy busybodies before her how Steve had brought her flowers, somehow
remembering she liked the color blue, a contrast to the red of blood and destruction. He'd
been polite as he escorted her to the car he'd borrowed from Sam, an old pick up truck that
would not call attention to them.

It was a miracle Tony's hacking of the trackers on both their ankles had worked as they left
the compound, but then again, if anyone could do it...it would be Stark. How Steve had
convinced Tony to help sneak them out, she had no clue.

Natasha had spent the whole car ride talking to Steve as they always did, but she did note the
slight blush of his cheeks when she mentioned the word 'date'. It was an endearing attribute
Nat never expected to like so much.

They did not go to an overly expensive restaurant like Nat had expected. Instead, Steve took
them to a hidden gem in southern Brooklyn, a restaurant styled like the 40s, full of swing
music and a dance floor full of mostly older couples.

She was surprised most of the elderly knew him by name, but not in the 'That's Captain
America!' way, but rather as if they were greeting an old friend.

"Are you sure those AREN'T his old friends?" Brooklyn teased, but still looking up at Nat
with a curiosity so intense by the tale, that it seems like the girl was taking it all in with joy.

"No. Turns out before this," Nat said, gesturing to the metal cuff on her ankle, "He used to be
quite a regular there for the food and feel of home"

Clint chuckled, murmuring something about Steve being such an old man, as he fixed with
the special tips of his newly made arrows.

Regardless of the teasing, Nat continued her tale of how they'd had a good meal and the
awkwardness of being on a date quickly vanished. Though she debated not saying anything,
Natasha also shared how Steve asked her to dance, and what was more surprising, that she'd
agreed.

It was clumsy, but full of laughter.

Steve, being the gentleman that he was, admitted to never having been on a date, taking most
of his advice from Bucky (the winter soldier who almost killed Nat in multiple occasions).
He'd admitted to spending most of his youth being disliked by women, of wanting to save his
first dance for the right partner.

He'd thanked Nat for being that right partner with blush on his cheeks and a smile so gentle
that the assassin almost chuckled.

The one that did chuckle was Clint, while Brooklyn just stared up at Nat in joy and an
urgency to continue her tale.
In truth, there wasn't much else to tell. They danced, went out for a walk on a garden full of
fireflies and snow covered floors. Once back home, Natasha knew that unlike other men
(some of which being her old dates), Steve was not looking for a quick hookup afterwards or
a tangle in the sheets.

Steve was polite, opening the car door for her, taking her to her room, then asking if it was ok
to kiss her on the cheek. Natasha had NEVER been kissed on the cheek by a man, so she'd
allowed it.

Steve left back for his meeting with Fury and the council, which is when Nat realized
Brooklyn was gone. That had been the end of that, which as far as endings went...it was
definitely a kind one, a memorable experience for sure Natasha was more than willing to try
again even if sneaking out the compound made her feel like a rebellious teen.

By the end of the tale, Clint was already shouting his approval of Steve, yet still promising to
have a talk with him like a strict father or an older brother would. As for Brooklyn, all traces
her worry vanished as she smiled.

Some part of Nat was relieved her sestras approved of this secret arrangement, the other
wanted both of the girls to some day experience the happiness she'd felt today in the future.

Maybe with that Kent boy and the Wayne. Nat did not know them completely, but she could
already tell those two boys were special, good choices from the teens even if they did not
know it yet.

Seeming to follow her train of thought, Clint subtly said, "What about you, like any boy at
school who you are dying to go on a date with?"

Real smooth Clint...

Though Nat had sworn to keep the knowledge of Brook and the Wayne's odd encounters to
herself, Pepper, and Steve...she'd had little choice but to tell Clint a while back. Clint was
Nat's most trusted friend. He'd once trusted her with knowledge of his family, had made Nat
the godmother of one of his kids, named another after her.

They kept few secrets between one another.

He's been surprised to say the least, mostly because he'd been convinced Brook and Peter had
something going on. It took a while to tell him all she knew after a mission to confiscate
some alien weapons a week ago, but by the end of it, he seemed more exhausted by the dump
of information than the mission itself.

Of course, as a spy and assassin of his own right, Clint would say nothing to anyone...but of
course he'd take now to tease the girl about it.

Brooklyn merely shrugged, saying something along the lines of being too busy to think about
boys. It didn't help that Clint also brought up something about the Wayne boy, casually
asking if the kid was giving her problems at school.
The Stark just rolled her eyes, motioning to the room as she said, "I can clearly defend
myself, been trained by the best"

It was shortly after that the girl left to hit the showers after thanking both adults for the
training, at which time Nat smacked Clint in the head.

"Really?" Nat said with arms crossed, "The girl just saw Doctor Frankenstein and you bring
up the Wayne?"

Clint smirked, "I couldn't help it. I'm happy you tough widows are opening up to emotions"

With a scoff Nat moved to head to a shower of her own, but not before hearing as Clint
shouted, "You know, you should let me handle this future Mrs. Rogers. I know much more
about feelings than you"

Rolling her eyes, Nat threw a series of nearby daggers his way, hearing as he laughed at her
retreating form despite kissing death seconds ago.

Nat would show Clint that she could help Brooklyn as well, she just had to get very clever.
That girl should get her chance to be happy, to one day agree to go on a date, to not fear love.
Luckily, Nat was damn good at plotting and scheming.

She'd get on that AFTER she went to pick a fight with Fury of course.
 The Legends of Gotham
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Damian POV-

Damian had no clue what ended up changing father's mind about his 'Robin lockdown' in
Gotham. Either way, the teen did not mind very much as he soared though the dark and old
buildings of his city, letting the rain and snow pass him by until he and his idiotic siblings
finally made to stop atop a skyscraper outlooking the darkness of the city below.

This was not a mission, but rather a simple patrol that father had deemed necessary for
Damian to be accompanied with Both Drake and Todd. His least favorite siblings.

Perhaps it was a punishment, sure felt like it being stuck with them.

Damian had realized over the years that both of his brothers got along better with one another
than they did with Dick or him. Maybe they were both the same kind of stupid, which was
not helping Damian in relishing getting his patrolling privileges back.

Too bad Dick was back in Blüdhaven, patrolling with him would've been less tiring...

Damian truly was starting to feel the dregs of exhaustion, having had a long day full of exams
at school, plus additional patrols in Queens. At least he'd been able to accept this patrol since
Rosa was with Brooklyn today...one less thing to loose sleep about.

Standing at the edge of the building, Damian looked down at the busy streets bellow, let the
shadows and darkness of the night envelop him as his black and yellow cape fluttered behind
him.

Looking out into the city no longer reminded him of his first days as Robin when he was
merely ten. Now, looking at a city reminded him of his new team and not much else. Maybe
that is why his mind wandered to Brooklyn.

She'd seen Ivan the Great a few days ago, and though she tried to hide it, the encounter had
left his beloved rattled. It wasn't just because Yelena might be more than she seemed, but
because that man's words might've confirmed that something big was coming, and all this
time they'd just been playing fools.

In some ways, that was one of the reasons Damian had been willing to come on patrols, not
just to get his mind off those things, but to get additional training in case things did go south
one day.

Robin's siblings had mentioned during their stopping of petty crimes all night that they'd
noticed he'd gotten better at the espionage part of the job, that he was more patient, focused
more on stealth and observation that he did in attacking.
That was thanks to his beloved, not that Idiot 1 and Idiot 2 could ever know that.

Being a hero of Queens had helped Damian gain different experience he wouldn't be able to
have in Gotham, and as much as he'd deny it, having a team wasn't so bad either when it
came to that.

Now, he was more efficient, quick, and always came up with a plan before an attack. Only
difference between that and being with the team was that Damian never picked plans based
on movies...even if Peter's plans ended up working most of the time.

Regardless of his company, it felt odd going on a mission without Jon or Brook, he even felt
the absence of Yelena and Peter, even Ned's voice on the coms giving advice.

Is this how Dick felt when he was working with the Teen Titans? Was there a sense of
missing something when he was away from the Gotham position he'd held for years? Not that
Damian would ever ask, it would only encourage his brother to ask and taunt with
nonsense...like Todd was doing now.

"Where is your baby anyways? Did you lose it already?" Todd asked mockingly, his red
helmet glinting with the light of passing lightning in the sky.

Damian couldn't just say Rosa was with Brooklyn, because both their families thought the
assignment was not a couples team effort.

Leave it to Todd to ask the right questions under the worst of circumstances.

"Not that its any of your business, but I did not have to bring the robot in today" Damian
stated simply, making sure to glare at the imbecile through his domino mask. As per usual,
Todd let out a few breathy chuckles, but turned his attention back to the city below as he
pressed, "It just so happens to BE my business hell spawn, because said baby is classified as
a Wayne by half the family"

Drake chuckled, adding, "If it were flesh and bone, B might have adopted it already, right
Jay?"

The two idiots patted one another on the back as if they'd made a revolutionary joke. All
Damian could do is roll his eyes, even when he was well aware that father truly did have an
unsavory habit of adopting orphans.

"Leave it to everyone not to make sense. Its just a robot" Damian offered, even when his
mind was busy wondering if Rosa was doing ok. He trusted Brook's ability to take care of it
of course, so the worry seemed almost out of place, leaving the teen stumped as to why it was
there in the first place.

"Thats not the only weird thing in the mansion" Todd said, "I generally have several
madness-inducing hallucinations before breakfast. But have you guys noticed the old Jeep in
the garage? What's up with that?"
Drake nodded in agreement, as if confused by the phenomenon Damian had only heard his
family discuss a few times at home, but none of them had ever done a thing about it.

Maybe they could sense Roscoe was Damian's, and that it would be folly to mess with the
car. But perhaps it was time to end the air of mystery, even if the youngest Wayne had yet to
come up with an excuse as to why'd he'd bought the old thing.

"Its my car you idiots" he said, keeping his eyes on the nearly invisible horizon, "Touch it and
you die"

Jason chuckled.

"That piece of trash is yours!? WHY!? Since when!!?" Red Hood asked, leaning on a flag
pole and using it to hang out of the edge of the building as his heavy boot covered feet flailed
wildly with his words.

Again, Damian sighed deeply. Maybe coming on this patrol assignment had been a mistake.

"Don't you already have a car?" Tim asked, moving to crouch next to Damian to look at the
busy city, even when he seemed more interested in Roscoe.

"You have three cars Drake, I see no reason why I can't have two. That you two don't
understand my reasoning thanks to your minuscule brains is not my concern. Like I said, you
touch the car or anything else that is mine, and you'll die"

As snow fell with slightly higher intensity before them, Damian's two brothers raised their
hands in surrender, as if promising never to interfere with his items. In Todd's case, his
movement made him let go of the pole keeping him from a 115 floor drop...unfortunately, he
easily caught himself on the side of the edge.

"Jeez, so touchy" Todd said, climbing back up to sit on Damian's other side, "Some things
just really get you angry don't they? Like... that Stark girl"

Damian tried not to show his shock at hearing about his beloved. It wasn't often they brought
her up, only father seemed to do so when Brooklyn was on TV, but that was mostly to
complain and curse her family name.

Todd had not held a single ounce of anger when he said that last name.

"Stop bringing up things that will anger the hell spawn, Jay. You know he's sensitive" Tim
teased, which almost made Damian consider stabbing him in the stomach. Almost.

Jason was likely smirking under his helmet as he added 'innocently', "What!? I just asked
about his enemy! It's not like I teased him by suggesting he should think about going out with
someone and getting a girlfriend like normal people do. I'm sure there is some female demon
out there he can burn innocent villages with....even if he's a witty bitty hero of Queens now a
days"

Damian's brow twitched under his mask, but he tried his best to compose himself. He
wouldn't give Todd the satisfaction of seeing him riled up, not when the Wayne knew the
idiot was wrong.

He DID have a significant other, one who was a better being that the two of them combined.
And he was pleased...no....he was....happy with the arrangement. Truly happy for the first
time in his life.

Like hell he'd let those two oafs ruin that with their hatred for Starks.

Besides, Damian was something Jason would never get to be. Damian was a hero.

"Your involvement in my private life matters is not necessary" Damian demanded, debating
jumping off the building when both teens made it their mission to annoy the teen for the next
ten minutes by suggesting girls he could take out on a date.

Neither brought up Brooklyn as a choice, which said enough about the hatred towards his
beloved.

Just when he was about to hang the two for their comments, Barbara's voice came on the com
devices in their ears. She sounded tired, but calm and collected as she brought up an
important bit of information.

She'd just gotten reports that there was some rumored League activity in Pennsylvania, which
was not far from Gotham. A possible stronghold for weapons...alien weapons, thanks to
reports of blue flashing lights.

Barbara had suggested they wait for father to come back from the fetus appointment with
Selina, but Jason had quickly argued they could scout ahead.

When the Batmobile came to pick them up, the three vigilantes of Gotham made their way
past the heavy traffic and snow, rushing towards something Brook and him had been
discussing not long ago.

A clue.

The Joker had already made a move a few days ago, and it seemed the League was out of
their shock of defeat as well. Maybe this was Damian's chance to get answers out of the
League, to finally find a way to find out who was behind this big mess.

At least he hoped so.

****

Once at the coordinates Barbara had mentioned, it became very clear that she knew they were
not just going to scout the area, because Nightwing was there already, arms crossed as the
three approached him.

At least now Damian had some bearable company.

Dick was quick to explain he came as quick as possible, but that so far, he'd only found the
giant stone carved door before them. The door itself was well hidden amongst the foliage, but
it seemed Dick had gotten rid of a few branches and trees to make it more visible.

It was carved into the side of a small mountain, part of an abandoned wildlife reservation
park that hadn't seen visitors in decades, or so Barbara had mentioned.

While his siblings greeted one another, Damian's eyes were caught on the symbols on the
door. It was not the symbol of the League, but one he recognized from his lessons as a boy.
Lessons his grandfather had given him.

The others must've noticed his recognition, because Dick was immediately by Damian's side,
placing his escrima sticks away as worry took over his features.

"What is it, little D? Do you know what this is?" Dick asked.

Damian could only nod for a few seconds, not out of fear, but rather shock that out of
anything they could've found...it had to be this.

It was in his grandfather's voice that Damian recalled the tale, one which he shared with his
siblings with an air of reluctance, if only because he believed this had to be a joke of some
sort, perhaps a false location.

"This place...it has to do with Bialya, a place located in the Middle East north of Iran and
Saudi Arabia. That symbol, it's from there. Grandfather used to tell me this story about it
containing the old scepter of the kings, an object that has likely been moved around the world
to keep safe since the destruction of the League" Damian said, staring up at the intricately
carved symbol of flames and fangs.

"Why did Ra's tell you about some dusty scepter then? I know the guy liked antiques much
like himself, but a scepter seems pretty lame" Jason asked, knocking on the stone doors
before them.

As thunder and lighting passed above them in the cloudy skies, Damian added, "He told me
because he wanted it. If I were still part of the League, mother would've made me fetch it
eventually to prove my worth to the League of Assassins"

That was likely why the League was reportedly here. They'd found the location of the scepter
and now wanted it as their own. They likely already had it. Meaning, they wouldn't find
anyone from the League to interrogate now.

It seemed that there truly was a 'weapon' here as they'd been told, but it might be more than
they were bargaining for.

"What does this scepter do exactly? Why would Talia wanted it now? Why risk coming here
after all that happened recently?" Dick asked, eyeing the door with more curiosity now.

In truth, Damian had never been told what the scepter did, so he kept quiet, waiting until his
brothers agreed they should all go inside in case the scepter was still there.

If the League had interest in it, such a weapon could be use to bribe them out of a fight. In
theory at least. Damian wasn't sure how much mother would be willing to give for that object
anyways.

Quickly after everyone readied their weapons, Jason moved to the two circular doorhandles
the size of plates, pulling them as hard as he could while the others stared at him amusedly.

It was always a good day (or night in this case) when Jason made a fool of himself...

As Drake's smile grew, Todd's annoyance grew.

"Shut up! Let me think!" Jason said, clutching his guns as he eyed the stone door before them
that was likely five times their height and many times their weight.

"Don't worry" Damian mocked, "doing anything for the first time can be difficult"

Before Jason could think to point his weapon at Damian, the teen moved to the door and
searched at the base for the hidden button Grandfather mentioned once upon a time. When he
found it, it took a simple click for the massive doors to open with ease, retreating into the
small mountain, leaving cascades of dust and dirt in their wake.

Damian turned to smirk smugly at his siblings, and once he turned back to the opening,
Robin could see nothing but darkness within. Nothing at all. Or at least until Dick used the
light from his escrima sticks and Damian the glow from his katanas to light the way inside
the old structure.

Though Barbara had suggested they wait a fe hours for father, none of them had seemed too
keen on that idea, so they went on forward, sadly trusting Drake and Todd to watch their
backs.

It wasn't very comforting when the giant doors closed behind them. But Damian was
confident there would be some hidden switch that would get them to open again in case they
needed to flee the League.

Flee, because Brooklyn had taught him to pick his battles, and she'd murder Damian if he
died in this dusty old cave....

At first, there wasn't anything of importance, just dust and cobwebs all over the wide hallway.
It was once the roof began to expand, as the hall grew wider, that the light from their
weapons showed a grim sight.

Robin's brother's cursed silently.

All across the stone floor were skeletons in varying degrees of decomposition, though most
of them were burned to the bone. When Damian got close to one of those bodies, he noticed
some of the armor had survived, clearly depicting the League symbol.

The flesh of some of the bodies itself seemed fresh enough to date back to days ago when
League activity was reported.

"What the hell happened here?" Jason cursed, moving to inspect a severed arm full or burns
on the skin.
"I thought you said this was a place with a weapon, you little demon!" Drake added,
inspecting the fallen bodies for any signs of life. Damian did not bother checking for
survivors, not when he realized what had occurred here. Another part of the tale he'd thought
impossible.

As confidently as he could, Damian explained as if it were obvious, "Did I forget to mention

this place is guarded by Dragon Bats?" then sheathed his other katana, looking out into the
shadows for any movement.

"Dragon bats!? What kind of bullshit is that?" Todd cursed as he loaded all his guns again,
"Do you have unicorns in the basement too? Maybe some fairies out in the forest waiting to
welcome us back out?"

Damian was keen on rolling his eyes, even if his idiot brother wouldn't see it, but before an
argument could arise, they all heard an echoing roar that made them all quiet.

Dick was quick to motion for everyone to hide behind some of the large pillars around them,
especially when the edges of the room lit up in flames. It was then that Damian realized just
ow big this place was. Large enough to fit three football fields, with walls depicting Arabian
gods, many scriptures in an old language.

Unfortunately, Tim had moved to hide beside Damian, which was unpleasant enough without
the sound of very heavily approaching steps moving towards them. With each echo, the roof
above them released dust down on them, but the four of them did not dare peek around their
pillars...not yet at least.

Deciding to get a better view, Damian used the carvings on the pillars to climb to the top of
his despite the whispered annoyances of his brothers. Once up above, the teen smiled smugly
when his siblings were not far behind to climb after him.

It was with that higher view point that they were able to see what had caused the assassins
below to perish so easily. Down below, slowly approaching, were a dozen or so creatures as
big as a large truck. They had red fur all over their bodies, equally large membranous wings
of similar color on their backs that looked almost translucent with the fire light.

Though their bodies resembled a fur filled dragon shape with a tail and large claws, the face
was what gave them their name. It was bat-like, with small glowing yellow eyes and enough
sharp teeth that it was not impossible to imagine how those corpses below had lost their limbs
in clean cuts.

Beside him, Tim was already frowning at the creatures, turning to the pillar beside them to
see what Dick would order they do.

Damian had been told that they were nothing but myths...that was until today, as he saw the
beasts sniffing around looking for their next meal.

"Great" Todd exclaimed in a whisper, "Suddenly, being the son of Batman seems even more
ironic right?"
Damian did not bother to answer, he merely got ready for a fight as the heavy steps of the 28
foot beasts grew nearer. His brothers seemed to think the same, none of them letting the
corpses below deter them from knowing they could win this battle.

Then he saw the beasts eyes, a kind of intelligence in them.

That when Damian realized he did not really want to fight them.

Though they looked deadly, all the young Wayne could see was a lonely animal feared for its
size and complexion. In their eyes, Damian could see all the animals he was forced to kill as
a child, and recalled the promise he made to himself of never committing such a crime again.

So as his brothers launched into the fight, Damian stayed above the pillar, unable to find it in
himself to kill them.

Even when some of them spotted him and tried to attack, he'd refused to engage them.
Instead, Damian jumped from pillar to pillar, letting the creature spout its fire as he dodged
nimbly, listening to Jason's occasional idiotic battle jokes.

He was about to convince his brothers to just sneak around them, but by then they had
already killed three of the Dragon Bats in one swoop.

Damian couldn't help but stare horrified at the fallen creatures, seeing the light leave their
eyes.

It wasn't until the remaining dozen or so beasts began spouting large quantities of fire as one
unit that Damian an his siblings are forced to retreat to the top of the high pillars around
them. The flames were like a raging sea below them, and the heat was so strong, they'd all
had to close their eyes and cover their faces against the discomfort.

Damian did not fear the fire, he'd seen flames at the hands of his beloved, and had long since
viewed it as warmth rather than destruction. Even now.

Once the flames seized and the guardians saw none of the intruders died, Damian's siblings
had already engaged into combat again, now more confident after their previous kills.

Robin knew they would not listen, that unlike him, they had no trouble killing what they
assumed to be monsters for the sake of a scepter.

It wasn't until he saw one of the beasts sneak behind Nightwing, and in that second, Damian's
hesitation vanished as he moved to cut off the head of the beast with a scream of frustration.
The teen watched as the head feel to the stone floors as he stood on the beast's fallen body.

Damian may care for animals, but he wasn't about to let his brother die...

The guilt was there though, and it continued to persist as his siblings killed the remaining
beasts with heavy pants and bloody weapons. He just stood there, looking at the eyes of the
animal he'd killed, wishing he could take it back.
As they made their way to an adjoining chamber the Dragon Bats had previously obscured,
Damian silently listened to his brothers as they complained over the existence of such
monsters, as Jason bragged over their win and Tim mentioned something about doing more
research on them.

Damian did not care if they were biological experiments of natural creatures, they had been
innocent animals regardless, and of course Dick seemed to notice his quiet discomfort. Only
Damian did not wish to be comforted in any way, so he walked head of the group, katanas in
hand as they passed through the darkness to a chamber as large as the last.

This one had flames on the edges of the room as well, lighting up the sight of a shrine in the
middle, made of gold and emeralds. In the center was a stand containing a simple scepter.

Damian did not approach it, if only because it was once his destiny...his future, to acquire
said weapon. Instead, he lingered behind as his brothers observed the setup for traps.

They had just slaughtered several generations of guardians, and Damian was trying not to
look sick to his stomach as he observed them. He knew maybe he could help by translating
the scripture underneath it, but by then Red Hood had already carelessly grabbed the scepter.

They all stood silent for a few seconds, waiting for something bad to happen.

Nothing did....well, not immediately.

As the four elected to leave the place as quickly as possible, one of the dark entrances to the
chamber produced an echoing roar.

There was a guardian left...

Despite his distaste for killing the poor creature, Damian got into a defensive stance beside
his brothers, only to see that the emerging creature was not what they had expected.

It did not emerge from the entrance at all, but when Damian sensed the movement behind
him, he did not think twice to turn with sword in hand as he pointed it at the remaining
Dragon Bat....only, this one was not like the others.

It was small, no bigger than Damian's knee. Probably half that size actually.

An infant, all alone.

Damian faintly heard his sibling's shouts of distress to get away, but the guilt of killing the
animal's family was so strong that Robin could do nothing but kneel before it. When put to
the end of Robin's sword, the beast must've sensed the teen's immediate hesitation, because
padded towards a now kneeling Damian and meekly licked the teen's nose.

Damian had killed this animal's family, and now it was all alone.

In an instant, his mind was made up. He would right this wrong.
Ignoring his brother's warnings, Robin picked up the Dragon Bat, wrapped it in his yellow
cape, and took the scepter from Todd. The red animal did not seem to mind being picked up,
even when it hissed at the others behind Damian.

In an instant, Damian knew he would keep it. A name quickly came to mind as he walked
over to the entrance, ignoring the hurried steps of his siblings behind him.

Goliath.

Because one day, it would grow to be as big as its slain family, but would serve a greater
purpose than to guard a weapon. Perhaps Damian was lucky that he'd come to this place after
all, as destiny had once planned. It was certainly a good thing that he'd come as Robin, not as
Damian al Ghul.

"What do you think you're doing!?" Jason shouted, walking backwards before Damian as he
motioned to Goliath in distress.

Goliath's glowing yellow eyes stared up at Damian with adoration, and the teen did not
hesitate to scratch its ears affectionately even if his face remained passive and indifferent.
Before they could make it to the burning hall where the Dragon Bats laid, Damian took care
to cover Goliath's face with his cape, bringing him closer to his chest the way the teen had
learned when handling Rosa.

"There is nothing more to do here, we must go" was all Damian said before picking up his
pace.

Tim was quick to catch up, placing his bo staff on his back with little care as he kept pace at
Damian's side.

"What!? You can't just bring one of those things home! Its not a pet"

Damian huffed in annoyance as he replied, "Its mine now" while dodging clusters of flames
on the floor...as well as remains of large bodies.

Dick was quick to move to Damian's other side, saying a bit more gently than the other two,
"Robin! This isn't like taking home a stray cat! Batman won't allow it"

"I don't care" Damian replied indifferently, "Goliath stays with me"

Todd stuttered, "GoLiAtH! You already named it!?"

Damian merely nodded, pleased to see the creature was sleeping soundly in his arms.

None of his siblings were able to convince Damian to leave Goliath behind, so they cramped
in the front seats of the Batmobile on the ride back to Gotham because they refused to be near
the 'monster'. The groaned and complained, but since none of them were too keen on losing a
limb, they did not try to forcefully remove Goliath from Damian's arms.

All was calm on Damian's end until they made it back to the city, where a crime was in the
midst. A simple shootout, nothing they couldn't handle.
It was well into the night, but the streets were still full of civilians, so the four vigilantes
parked the Batmobile (with a sleeping Goliath staying inside for safety) as they moved
through the shadows to end the crime.

Despite the exhaustion of the day and night, everything had gone without a hitch. The
criminals were tied up to a street pole, no one was dead, and the blood on the street would be
washed off tomorrow.

What surprised Damian, and kept him from returning to Goliath's side immediately after, was
the fact that he was approached by one of the lingering civilians. Normally, once a crime was
stopped, either Batman's sons got yelled at by the public for their 'immoral efforts' or the
people would scurry off in fear of the masked individuals.

Not this young lady....

She had to be around his age if that Gotham High uniform was anything to go by. Instead of
ignoring Damian, she approached him with a giddy smile...and...and despite the katanas in
his hands, she hugged him.

The feeling of her arms around his middle was so repulsive that Damian immediate backed
away, unable to fight the sneer on his face. The girl seemed shocked, but that did not stop her
from moving closer once more, and before Damian could debate the 'rightness' of shoving the
stranger to the ground, she'd already moved to place her foreign lips on his cheek.

Immediately, it was like there was only one word in his mind.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Robin backed away further, and though he wasn't planning on resorting to violence, he held
his katana before the girl as a warning to keep her distance.

What truly set his nerves on edge were the fact that one look around the street showed people
with their phones out. Damian knew the video was likely already all over the internet, and he
felt a raw rage and panic at the thought of Brooklyn seeing it.

A stranger had placed her lips on his cheek when he was loyal only to his beloved.

Unlike Brooklyn's occasional kisses, this one had felt wrong in every way. It felt like that
same disgust he's always felt when being touched or even approached.

Damian let his brothers pull him away before he could think to fight the girl, before Damian
could yell at her for jeopardizing the best thing in his life...his relationship with Brooklyn. As
he was leaving, Damian heard the girl gush about Robin being a hero to those around her.

That is why she thought she could be 'friendly' with him?....Because Robin wasn't just a
vigilante anymore...but a hero.

Nevertheless, once he made it back to the Batmobile, Damian roughly wiped his cheek,
ignoring the stares of his siblings as he took his own cape and wiped out every trace of that
girl, fearing he had just committed the one act the relationship books had strongly advised not
to do.

Cheating.

Had he just cheated on Brooklyn?

The thought of that made Damian angrier, wiping his cheek harsher, cursing freely in Arabic
at the girl's stupidity, even as Goliath slept beside him.

He ignored Dick's insistence that it was just a quick kiss, nothing to fret over. But even he
seemed unconvinced by his own words, knowing full well how much Damian disliked being
touched. Thankfully, even Todd elected not to mock what had just occurred, and the ride
home felt like an eternity as he tried to get rid of all traces of that girl.

He wanted nothing more than to go to his room, call Brooklyn, and explain what happened. If
there was one thing Damian swore never to do, it was to harm her. He knew that as assassins,
trust did not come easily, and he could only hope this unexpected even hadn't ruined that.

Unfortunately, when he made it home and Barbara announced father was home, Damian
realized he'd have to speak to him. He did not want his siblings to see anything was wrong, so
when he exited the Batmobile in the Batcave, Damian tried to seem calm, if not a bit angry to
keep everyone at bay.

It turned out, the sight of Goliath in his arms was enough for them to keep their distance.

Damian ignored the gentle shouts from Dick as he made his way up the elevator, finding his
father lounging on the largest couch in the living room, still dressed in a suit, his tie
carelessly discarded on the cushion beside him.

He just had to do this one thing, then he could go talk to Brooklyn....

Father was quick to look up from his paperwork, only to frown at the creature now awake in
Damian's arms, no longer swaddled by the cape the teen intended to wash thoroughly.

"Do I want to know what that is?" father asked.

Damian did not felt the need for pleasantries either, so he said simply "Its Goliath"

"Yours?"

"Yes" Damian replied, watching as father's hands came to rest at his temples as Goliath began
spouting puffs of fire just when the others came into the living room. Father looked to them
for an explanation, and after the foreign term of Dragon Bats was thrown around by Jason
and Tim, their father sighed in distress.

Looking to Damian, father said as calmly as possible, "No Damian, you have enough pets.
We don't even know how dangerous that thing is"
Damian would not stand for this injustice, not after having the anger from what happened
earlier.

Unwilling to back down from the order, Damian shouted at his father's face, "Goliath stays
with me! We slaughtered his whole family! You know what that guilt feels like, to take a
parent form someone! Besides, he will be much more dangerous out there all alone!"

It was a low blow, bringing up what he did to Raven, to bring up father's parents.

He could see the blow silently strike father, could see as father pondered his words as he
stared at Goliath's big eyes. It took a few minutes, but then father ended up sighing in defeat.

"Just...keep it in check"

Jason jumped on the coffee table in shock. Alfred's favorite antique table.

"So you carelessly adopt children and now your son follows your footsteps with animals!?
What do we even feed that thing!" Todd screamed.

Damian did not care for his words, not when he had won and Goliath could stay. Perhaps that
is why he replied calmly, "If you keep complaining, I'll feed YOU to him"

With a thud, Jason's helmet fell on the nearby chair, his eyes wide in disbelief as he yelled
back in complaint, "This house is a goddamn circus with all these pets!"

Damian did not bother with the spectacle as he moved towards stairs, only turning back once
to say, "At least we already have a born acrobat" pointing to Dick, then pointing to Jason,
Damian added, "and the clown"

Father was already calling for peace, then knowing better than to think his pleas would be
heard so he called Pennyworth to stop Jason's frustrated grunts, but by then Damian was
already back in his room.

Despite his thoughts on calling Brooklyn, he'd stalled by introducing Goliath to Alfred the
Cat and Titus, both of which had not minded Goliath much until he started spouting harmless
fire puffs.

As he changed into a simple shirt and some sleeping pants, Damian got the confirmation of
the video of his being kissed already being released to the public fairly quickly. Gotham news
was having a field day on TV speculating that the foolish girl was Robin's secret girlfriend,
just the way they always spoke of their suspicion and wishes to see Brook with Osborn.

It made him angry.

He hated that girl who kissed him.

Such rush of emotions was only made worst by Goliath's inability to stop spouting fire even
at Damian's strict command. The Dragon Bat just ran around his room, thankfully not yet
burning anything, but Titus was not happy about the flames...not one bit.
But the hate had not blinded Damian enough from the noise coming from his window. In
seconds, he'd fetched his katana from the pile of his suit on the floor. It wasn't until he
noticed the black metal of Brooklyn's flight suit that he put the katana down and his heart
began beating a little quicker than usual.

Even his animals seized their motions as they looked to the opening suit in the room,
revealing a smiling Brooklyn in a set of warm PJs.

Though she smiled at him, her gaze quickly landed on Goliath. She did not seem mad while
raising a brow, gently asking, "Please tell me that's an expensive dog breed and not the
monster under your bed. Let me guess, new pet?"

Damian was relieved by her usual behavior, so he replied with equal ease, "Yes, its Goliath.
He is a Dragon Bat"

Brooklyn mumbled the species name like a puzzle, but did not demand he dispose of Goliath
like his siblings had.

As if in answer to its name, Goliath stepped froward on tiny fat legs, even when Titus let out
a warning growl for the newcomer not to get too close to Brooklyn. In fact, Titus quickly
rushed to her side, ready to attack if need be.

Brooklyn did not seem tense as Goliath approached, if anything she seemed amused by the
odd creature as she stroked Titus behind the ears in greeting.

Damian watched as Goliath frowned at the stranger, breathing a bit of fire her way as if in
warning of his own. Like he thought Brook was a threat to Damian.

Brook merely rolled her eyes, then closed them in concentration as she let a small flickering
flame appear in the palm of her hand in answer to Goliath's own fire. That quickly, Goliath's
fat tail began to sway in happiness as he approached Damian's beloved.

When the Dragon Bat clumsily flew into Brook's arms, she was tense at first, then seemed to
resign herself to her fate, letting busts of flames from her hands land on the animal she
carried, which seemed to please Goliath.

Is that why he had been breathing fire so indignantly? Goliath was cold.

"Do I want to know what this thing is and were you found it? I came to see if you were ok,
but this was an interesting surprise"

Damian was left stunned for a few seconds.

"You saw what happened with that girl? You're not angry?" Damian dared to ask, watching as
she smiled at him, moving closer to caress his hair as they stood in the middle of his room.

"Why would I be angry? I know you don't like to be touched by others so I came to see if you
were alright. You looked so disgusted, that unwanted contact must've been something
unpleasant for you" she explained, adding sheepishly "And don't worry, I wasn't spotted by
your family on my way in, saw them all such to the garage earlier"
She wasn't angry.... Brooklyn was worried...for him.

Damian had no idea what came over him as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to her
cheek, ignoring how Goliath complained between their bodies.

"It was unpleasant" he admitted, unable to add the part where he longed to say only her lips
were welcome to him.

"Well, at least her admiration came from a good place right? You're a hero, even here in
Gotham" Brook said.

Father and the others had been surprised by the news, even more so by the fact that whom
they knew to be Brooklyn claimed to be a mutant. They thought she was just pretending since
they weren't aware of what had occurred in Wakanda, Damian had never mentioned she had
forced experiments done because he knew they would take it the worst way.

So he let Tim continue trying to scan news footage to see what machinery she was using,
pretended being in a team with her and the others was a torture he only put up with for the
sake of a city.

Father was proud of that, even if he was displeased about the Stark. Maybe it made father
think Damian was changing into a more tolerant person...which it had, but the greatest
detective in the world still had no idea just how much.

"Next time someone touches me...." Damian began, only to be cut off by a side embrace from
Brooklyn as she said with a smile, "I'll rescue you"

He rolled his eyes.

"I don't need rescuing, my beloved"

With amusement of her own Brook twirled a strand of her loose red hair, tilting her head to
the side as she replied, "Of course not, but I should be able to avenge you Dami, right?
Considering that will be my occupation name"

Damian had no clue what happened, why he said what he said next. Perhaps it was due to the
unwanted contact from another female, a confirmation that Brooklyn truly was something
special, that her affection was unique to him.

Without thinking, he replied, "Its not like I care or anything, but I call you my beloved. I
believe I should be yours as well..."

He almost wanted to kill himself with the mysterious scepter behind him.

But it was true.

Damian never referred to Brooklyn as HIS out of some display of ownership, not the way
mother had to father. He'd quickly learned that the 'my' in his words was more towards a
display of being connected to her, that she was something treasured to him.
He hoped Brooklyn understood that. He even hoped that she too wished to think of him as
something like that as well....

Turned out, like with most things, they were already in accord.

"I think I've said it in my head a few times, but never out loud because I didn't want you to
misunderstand. But if you must know, you are MY Dami. All you had to do was ask...even
though you don't care of course" she said with a knowing smile.

Damian would deny it to his grave that he liked the sound of that, so he just nodded in
agreement to the new 'nickname'...another new step in their 'something new'.

Looking around the expanse of the room, Brooklyn added mischievously, "Want me to stay a
while? We can talk before I have to go back home, let you relax after all that happened.
Besides, I don't think this new pet of yours wants to let me go just yet"

Indeed, Goliath was clinging to Brooklyn, sighing contently when she focused her abilities
go shoot out some fire for clear comfort. Either Damian would have to turn on his fireplace
from now on...or maybe Brooklyn would have to stop by more often.

Damian could only nod in thanks, especially when he noticed Rosa in the suit.

The two settled on Damian's couch, with the robot baby in his arms while Goliath refused to
leave the fire in Brooklyn's hold. Titus settled by their feet comfortably, clearly glad to see
Brooklyn after all this time apart.

He began to relax as they settled back into the easy flow of things, speaking of the exams
they took at school that day, of Damian's unexpected mission and the scepter next to the bed.
Brooklyn recognized it too, but was glad that now they possessed a possible bargaining chip
against the league once they found out it was missing.

Neither knew what it did though. The two of them weren't keen on testing it out either, not
when they were in Damian's home.

It wasn't until an hour later, well into midnight, that a knock came to the door. Both teens
froze in fear...that was until Pennyworth spoke up from the other side of the door. Even Titus
stood up at the sound, alert and ready to attack.

"Master Damian, I've brought some food if you're still awake. I heard you had a long night"

Damian sighed, but Brooklyn was already nodding with some barely visible hesitancy. She'd
once admitted of growing fond of speaking to Pennyworth, that she did not mind him at all.

Damian was not surprised Pennyworth knew he was awake, and he also predicted that the
sight of Brooklyn in his room, plus a new pet, would do nothing to wipe the calm look on his
face. No, Pennyworth kept his shock at bay as she greeted Brooklyn with fondness of his
own.

Pennyworth didn't even question the fact that Rosa was in the room as well when it had been
clear he hadn't brought the doll home. The old man was perhaps too smart for his own good
sometimes, but he knew what to say and what to keep a secret, so Damian did not bother with
threats to keep quiet...not when Pennyworth seemed happy of Brook's appearance, even
offering some food as well.

On his way out, the old man even pulled her into an embrace, thanking her for all she'd done
for Barbara, plus his own joy of finally knowing that she was unharmed from the events of
the Bermuda triangle.

Pennyworth had asked about her once Damian had returned from that place, even when
school began again, and it seemed the teen's reassurances were not as much of a comfort as
seeing Brooklyn in person. His beloved did not seem to mind the embrace as she returned it,
much to the displeasure of Goliath perched on her lap.

The butler promised to keep everyone in the household from prying in by Damian's room, to
give them time to be alone without disturbances so they could relax. They were heroes now,
Pennyworth had pointed out, he also said that they deserved a break because of it.

Neither teen complained.

Pennyworth even offered to take Brooklyn home when she was ready, but the girl motioned
to the suit standing perfectly still by the large windows (which someone had finally fixed
weeks ago). That was that.

It wasn't until Pennyworth left to 'leave them be' that Damian dared to voice out, "He doesn't
hate you, not like the others do"

Brooklyn smiled beside him, leaning her tired head on his shoulder as she munched on some
fruit, "He's a good man, works too hard in my opinion, but I can see he cares a lot about you"

Pennyworth cared too much about everyone, was probably the closest thing to a
grandfather...a proper grandfather...that Damian had.

But though her words brought comfort to Damian in some foreign way, he couldn't help but
be distracted by the sight of them both alone in a room, with food on his coffee table...it made
him think of something he had ready recently in his quest to figure out how courting worked.

A date.

It was something they always joked about not being able to do, that they were both fine being
unconventional in that sense of not going to fancy restaurants in fear of being seen together.
But counting missions as dates....it felt wrong to him somehow.

"I know it must be...unpleasant, not being able to go on dates like one normally does with
their significant other. So, perhaps we can have such an outing...here" he suggested, making
Brook raise her head from his shoulder. her eyes were wide as she stared at their
surroundings.

"You want to have a date? Right now?" she asked, smiling slightly.
Damian nodded, "This isn't a fancy restaurant, but Pennyworth's cooking is possibly just as
good. But of course, you can decline the request"

"You're actually asking me to have a date with you?" she said, not mockingly, but rather
surprised as if he thought he'd never actually humor the tradition or perhaps was indifferent
about it.

Of course, Damian was indifferent about much, but the one thing he cared about was seeing
his beloved happy, to be able to be happy together.

Perhaps more sheepishly than he would've liked, Damian explained, "We already agreed that
our relationship would not be without complications, but if I'm being honest, I much prefer
this than going to a fancy restaurant where we'd just be stared at. I guess that all that really
matters is spending time with you, no matter where we are"

His moment of insecurity only lasted a second before Brooklyn agreed.

They ate on the couch with Titus by their feet and the baby robot sleeping soundly beside
them. Alfred the Cat and Goliath served as entertainment by playing around on the carpet
before the coffee table, making Brooklyn laugh more than once when they began chasing
their own tails.

As predicted, even if it was a small meal, it was of high quality and very enjoyable.

They talked for hours about anything and everything, relaxing their tired muscles on the bed
as they discussed new patrol trails, all while he kept a hand on her back, caressing the place
he new the freshest whip mark was...the last one Ivan ever got to cast upon her.

Something interesting occurred then, as they rocked Rosa to sleep.

When he passed a blanket over to Brook, Damian had said to the robot by accident, "Don't
you dare cry in your mother's arms. We're tired"

Brooklyn had chuckled wildly, jumped up in bed as she said, "Did you just admit to Rosa
being more than a robot!? You just called me her mother!"

Damian panicked, but kept a frown on as he said, " Of course not"

"You did! So you admit to caring about Rosa after all! The you must truly be her dad huh?"

The two paused at that, faces flushed as they realized the implications of her teasing. They
usually just called Rosa their school project, never calming to be parents because that was a
whole new level of weird. But just now, they had referred to themselves as parents, as in one
parenting unit...

Damian hated kids, even fake ones...just not Rosa, not completely.

Yet...Brooklyn was Rosa's mom, and Damian supposed he did not despise the stupid doll as
he once used to. The awkwardness vanished when Brook claimed he was a good dad, that in
the future (though she didn't specify with who) he would make a very interesting parent.
He'd scowled at the baby, claiming to hold no bond to it, but when he held it in his arms...it
was with the softness of when he touched Brook's scars (or so she pointed out). Sure, he did
everything as it should be done, being careful and almost meticulous when it came to doing
things right. So he claimed it was for the grade, but Brooklyn had noticed his half-smile when
he rocked the baby to sleep.

He was left with no choice but to admit the assignment of them being parents was an
acceptable title. Maybe referring to Rosa as his 'daughter' and not an it wouldn't be so hard. In
the hours that followed...it wasn't.

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation.

When it was time to leave, the two shared a hug, an act that was no longer awkward between
them. Brook then proceeded by doing hat she'd done back in her apartment once, when he'd
mentioned the reading he'd done on relationships.

Perhaps a new form of farewell between them.

As always, she lingered at a close distance, waiting for him to back away (unlike that stranger
today). Brooklyn was very special in the sense that she always waited for Damian to approve
of physical touch, even in situations where their lives were on the line...she never pushed
him.

When he did not back away, the Stark smiled up at him brightly.

Brook leaned up to place a delicate kiss on his cheek, whispering "Hello". Then she moved to
his forehead, kissing his skin as she whispered "I care for you". The nose kiss was met with
the words of "I like you", and when her lips met his own, Damian no longer hesitated to kiss
them back, ignoring the forbidden aspect of the action (especially in his own home) as he
melted into the feeling of righteousness.

Her lips still tasted like the strawberries she'd consumed, soft and inviting. Damian ignored
the almost mocking barks from Titus, and the way Goliath inched closer as if urging Brook to
pick him up when the teen placed his arms on her hips, deepening the kiss like he'd done
back at the club long ago.

It was once they were both out of breath that they stared at one another with wide eyes, but
content. That had to be their longest kiss yet, and Damian...well, he'd felt the complete
opposite of hatred.

Leaning her forehead against his, Brooklyn whispered at last with her flushed lips, "I adore
you"

Damian felt the need to say it back, not out of obligation, but...because he truly felt
something for her. Maybe it was pride that kept him from repeating the words, an insecurity
of sorts, but he leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek as a poor attempt to display he too
felt the need for such words.
Brooklyn had moved towards her suit with rosy cheeks and a hand on her lips where her
usual red lipstick was already smeared..no doubt all over Damian's lips. But he did not mind,
not as he handed over Rosa, after scolding the robo-his daughter to keep quiet at night.

Brook had smiled at that, glad of their new little game as she promised to the doll she could
visit her father after tomorrow. Damian never blushed, but his cheeks became warm at the
comment.

But it wasn't a blush.

Titus and Goliath already seemed to miss her absence as they stared longingly at the windows
shortly after she flew away.

Spoiled things.

He watched his beloved disappear into the night, feeling more relaxed than he'd been when
he walked into the bedroom with the discomfort of a long patrol, the first of many to come.
He let his animals curl around him in bed, let himself fall asleep in peace knowing full well
Jon would come by tomorrow with flamboyancy about the news on TV.

Maybe he'd let Goliath burn Jon's ass...

******

Bruce Wayne POV-

Bruce had arrived at the office in Wayne Enterprises early in the morning, at least earlier than
usual. He sat calmly on his desk, looking at the he photos of his children that were staring
right back at him.

There was one of Dick as a boy, when he'd first been adopted. He was covered in mud, with a
sweet smile that even growing up in Gotham for years had not completely gotten rid of.

Then there was one of Jason and Tim as teenagers, having tea with Alfred as Jay used Tim's
school tie to lift his own cup. That was before the deaths, the hatred.

The next in the long line of frames on his desk was a photo of Stephanie well into her adult
years. She'd combed up her blonde hair locks to look like one of the civilians from the Grinch
movie they had watched that weekend. She looked ridiculous, but her brothers were one the
floor in the background, dying of laughter.

Barbara's was at the park, a photo of her with Bruce and her late father. She'd dragged them
shopping, so the two men were carrying various shopping bags in their arms, yet neither of
them had minded.

Casandras photo was not as silly as the others. It was one of her peacefully reading by the
library window of the mansion, back when she'd refused to say a word to anyone, back when
she'd been unable to speak. When she thought of herself as nothing more than a servant to the
al Ghul's, a wraith of shadow meant only to protect and kill.
Still, she'd always looked more peaceful reading in those days.

The last was of Damian and Titus when he was twelve years old. Damian looked serious, an
expression the dog seemed to mirror as they posed before the gardens in the mansion.

Bruce was never one for taking photos, keeping memories, these had all been taken by
Alfred. Here in his private office, Bruce was able to look at the photos of all his children, of
photos of his wedding with Selina, of the two posing with her pregnant belly now, even one
of Dick's own wedding with the whole family.

He was reminded of all he had to live for, a family he'd never thought possible of having.
Sure, they fought a lot, most of his kids hated him, but they were a family.

Alfred was right when he said that the Waynes fought like dogs, but in the end they would die
for each other. That had to count for something...

They were his reason for living, his motivation for fighting and making a better world.

That is why he had come early, to try and do more research on the Joker before he had
company duties to attend to. But something else was on his mind, especially as he stared at
the frames including Damian over the years.

Damian was acting a little weird lately, in a way that was not necessarily bad. He'd agreed to
be a hero for Christ's sake!

The boy spend more time in Queens than he did at home without complaint.Bruce had no
idea what had changed lately, he had no clue how someone like Damian COULD change. It
puzzled him for sure.

When Selina came into his office with the offering of warm coffee, she caught him mid
thought, and after explaining his concerns, she'd laughed at him and settled on his lap to take
a look at the photos as well.

"He's growing up is all" she'd declared.

Perhaps that was true, all of his children had gone through a maturity change at some point or
another after all....but his 'fatherly' instinct was not satisfied with that explanation.

"I'm letting him be Robin again in Gotham...but I'm scared"

Selina had chuckled, "That boy will grow to be stronger than you, just as Tim became
smarter, Dick kinder, and Jason wilder. Let him live his life because it will always include
risks, even if what happened with the League hadn't occurred"

She was right of course, but Bruce couldn't help but to go home early that day, stopping by
Damian's room because he still got scared sometimes about leaving the teen alone for too
long, fearing he would be taken away.

Damian was in his room though...even if the sight of him looked rather odd.
 He was on the couch, a gentle lullaby blasting gently around the room with Russian words
Bruce could barely make out. It was certainly not what Damian listened to most of the time....

Damian was frowning at the fake child in his arms, telling it about school topics,
commanding it to quiet and getting frustrated when he realized that unlike all other humans
on this earth, a simple glare would not work as a command.

Bruce stayed by the door, smiling at the sight...or at least trying not to.

He watched Damian had over the ring Talia had given him to the baby, placing it in its fake
hands like one would a toy. The robot calmed, the emerald of the ring glinted against the
light, and Damian relaxed at last.

The sight WAS odd, but if left Bruce more relaxed.

On his walk back to the living room, he couldn't help but wish that one day his son would
open up to someone. That he would find someone to settle down with rather than just live
alone all his life. He wished that for all his children, hoped for happiness and joy.

He knew what being alone had been like, felt it like a nightmare creeping up in his mind. But
perhaps everyone was changing, maturing, and all Bruce had to do was make sure his
children were safe. That they had a better world free of the problems of today.

It was motivation to keep going on his investigation...motivation to put a stop to this mess
with the Joker and his allies at last.

For them, he would fight with all he had. For his unborn child as well....

Chapter End Notes

I have been dying to introduce Goliath for so long! I hope some of you get the comic
reference of the new pet! This chapter was very fun to write and I hope you all enjoy it.

Remember to take care of yourself!

 The Briar Rose Cafe

Brooklyn POV-

Life was stressful most of the time, but one of the things that served as a means of relaxation
at school was always decathlon practice.

While Jon and Harry were busy with the football team in the field, Tanya with the
cheerleaders, Damian at the art club, and Yelena in the library, the rest of Brooklyn's friends
spent an hour after school preparing for the Scholastic Decathlon under MJ's capable
leadership.

Today, the team had gone over a series of timed questions before the podium, and Brooklyn
was happy to say her studying had payed off. Of course, studying was only made harder by
the crying of babies in their arms and the sleep deprivation they carried on their shoulders.

MJ had seemed satisfied regardless, especially as she and Peter spent the last ten minutes of
the practice discussing new topics by themselves.

Brook and Peter had thankfully remained god friends despite his asking her out weeks ago. In
the weeks spent at the compound during the school break after all that happened in Bermuda,
they'd had a little talk about it. It wasn't long considering everyone at the compound was nosy
and would likely show up to see what the two teens were up to fairly quickly...

Peter's explanation had been simple.

He had feelings for MJ, but he'd grown to care for Brooklyn very much, in a way that he
wasn't certain of for a while. Pete had felt guilt for liking her, because Tony was his role
model and though he didn't say it, Brooklyn knew dad was like his father-figure as well.

The last think Pete wanted was to anger his idol, but he also couldn't deny the surge of
emotions that were catapulted forward by his thinking MJ did not like him and the close calls
with life Brooklyn had suffered.

Her friend had settled a the foot of her bed, eyes watery as he confessed he still wasn't sure
what he felt, because in his eyes, there was no reason someone wouldn't like her. According
to Peter, she was a wonderful person anyone would be lucky to be with.

If only he knew...

By the end of his large speech, Brook was shocked Peter had managed to speak all that with
one breath of air, the again, he was the ranting King.

With little tears in his eyes, Peter had expressed he loved their friendship, and though he was
still figuring himself out, he knew for certain that what he felt for MJ was stronger than what
he felt for Brooklyn.
Apparently, part of his boldness for asking her out had come from Ned admitting Brook had
feelings for Pete. It had been true months ago, but the Stark had been trying to figure herself
out as well during that time.

In the end, they stayed friends with the promise that they would remain as such forever, and
if the universe ever made it right for them to be something more, then so be it. Brook had not
yet been dating Damian at the time, but she'd known her heart belonged to the Wayne, she
just couldn't tell Peter that.

But now they were on good terms, and as Brook looked at him and MJ sharing what Ned
described as 'a moment', she was glad Spidy had chosen not to give up on their friend.

He deserved happiness, someone worthy of him.

It was when practice was over that everyone met at the parking lot, ready to say their usual
goodbyes, that Tanya whined that she didn't want to go home just yet. It was such a nice day,
meaning it wasn't snowing for once, and Tanya wanted to make the most of it especially after
she'd had to cut down on her usual shopping trips thanks to the baby in her arms, the one
Harry had showered with golden chains like a rapper.

It was under Tanya's persuasive whining that they managed to be talked into going to her
favorite coffee shop to unwind. As usual, Damian and Yelena were the only ones looking
displeased by the idea, but after a bit of coaxing they had set out on the road, cruising on the
streets of Queens.

Brook, Damian, Peter, Yelena, Jon and Ned had been able to fit inside Roscoe, albeit rather
uncomfortably, but they wanted to stick together in case some crime needed to be taken care
of.

Harry, Tanya, and MJ had all gone to Harry's new convertible, a gift from his father for
Christmas. Brook's friend seemed indifferent about the car, but had often explained to the
group that at least it was a good place to 'make out' with his various conquests.

In light of their friend group having three celebrities that should not be seen together in
public, Tanya had promised a place with enough privacy that any bold and daring paparazzi
willing to get sued for a photo would not be able to reach.

So Dami followed the red convertible at a leisurely place towards the eastern part of the city,
which was often too crowded for Tanya's claim of privacy to be true. Still, she led them to a
small and quiet building, a coffee shop Tanya claimed to be her favorite since childhood.

The place was small and rustic looking, but all the tables were still filled with customers.

Tanya had led the group through the back door, but even that would be of little use when they
went to get a table...or so Brook thought until the chipper cheerleader whispered, "This place
used to be a speakeasy back in the day during the prohibition. They keep the hidden area for
special guests, friends of the owner. No one uses it anymore but me though"
With a skip in her step, Tanya rushed over to the nerdy-looking girl at the counter. They both
spoke in hushed tones until the worker pulled an antler on what Brooklyn had assumed to be
a decorative deer head.

The group had wearily remained by the back door, and when the bookshelf beside them
swung open, they'd had to back into the adjacent wall, with Damian quickly grabbing Brook's
shoulders to puller her back from possible danger. Harry had outright squealed, clutching
Ned and Peter like a lifeline while MJ was too busy with her eyes on a book to notice.

As for Yelena, she'd been the most startled of them all, making quick work of pushing Jon
behind her but thankfully not taking out any of the weapons she hid in her person. That
would've been a lot to explain to the others...

Once the lights on the other side of the bookcase came to life and they realized all was safe
and this was just some secret room, everyone went to the cars to get their robot babies, not
doubt looking very odd as the teens hauled them inside on their baby carriers.

The girl at the front counter was the only one inside who saw them, but said nothing on the
matter, she just raised a brow at the sight and moved to prepare another coffee.

Brooklyn clung to her trust of Tanya as she made her way inside the unknown space.

Maybe it was the recent attack from the Joker and all Ivan had said that made Brook feel a
little more on edge recently. Perhaps that was why she'd been ok with spending more time
with friends despite her obligations.

If things really were about to go out of control, she had a lot to protect.

It turned out that Tanya had delivered on her promise. Once past the small hallway in the
secret entrance, Brook beheld a room just as large as the coffee shop itself. It certainly looked
as old as her friend claimed, but with an elegant dark-toned vibe that Harry quickly claimed
to be like Hogwarts of something Transylvanian.

Tanya guided them to a large table in the middle of the room, the only one seemingly devoid
of dust. After pulling over a few wooden chairs, the group settled down, quickly greeted by
an older woman who came in from the hidden door with a smile.

Her appearance had been enough for Brooklyn and Damian to take out weapons under the
table, even Yelena seemed to be momentarily on guard until the older lady with wise eyes
greeted Tanya with as much elderly fondness as Brook's new grandparents had days ago.

Perhaps it was the recent feeling of bad events coming back from slumber, but Ivan's words
tended to linger in her mind these days. For a second, she reverted back to her old teachings,
assuming the woman was not to be trusted, that the elderly with a kind smile and gentle eyes
was nothing more than an enemy in disguise.

It would take no more than three moves to pin her on the floor, two if she were to ki-....no,
killing was wrong, and this woman was innocent, clearly someone who cherished Tanya
enough to bring the table a meal free of charge for everyone.
The brief loss of control startled the Stark, but she even as Damian shot her a concerned look
across the table (as if he had known something was wrong), Brook couldn't find it in herself
to do anything other than pretend nothing had occurred.

The elderly woman was referred to as Ms. Betty by Tanya, someone who had owned this
little cafe for decades, inheriting it from her father before hand. Meaning, no one knew of the
existence of this secret room unless Ms. Betty allowed it.

It was throughout the meal of burgers and fries that the older woman got to know the kids as
Tanya's most treasured friends, giving each of them permission to come to this spot whenever
they wished, even if she wasn't here. In fact, as Brooklyn sneakily placed Damian's beef patty
into her plate, the older woman gave them all a secret code, instructions to tap their cheeks
trice for the person at the counter to let them in.

"Just don't come in here for any hookups, I don't want no troublemakers in my establishment"
the woman warned.

Tanya chuckled around the bite of fries in her mouth, turning to Harry, who was busy holding
their crying baby as she said, "Poor Harry, bet he was thinking of brining Lisa here"

Harry furrowed his brow, genuinely confused when he asked, "Who's Lisa?"

Both Tanya and MJ swung their hands to hit the Osborn heir in the back of the head for not
even knowing the name of his latest hookup, a senior volleyball girl if Brooklyn was up to
date.

The elderly woman smirked, pointing a wrinkled finger at Harry as she hummed, "No funny
business boy. I don't care who your daddy is, I'll beat you to the curb if I don't find your pants
strapped to your waist"

Harry paled, either out of embarrassment of genuine fear. Brook had to kick Damian under
the table to wipe the smirk off his face. Those two could stand sitting at the same lunch table,
but they'd yet to overcome years of disliking one another.

Still, at least Damian had kept snarky comments to himself today....good.

After the lady left with one last warning look to Harry, the teens finished their meal, listening
to the flow of conversation that ranged from school assignments to new moves they
absolutely HAD to watch together.

Harry and Ned got hold of her Polaroid camera once again, like they did at school or any rare
outing. The snapping of photos no longer bothered her, in fact, Brook often looked forward to
see what memories would be immortalized on the ever growing wall of photos in her room.

These were her friends, this was her life. It may be exhausting and sometimes dangerous, but
she knew for sure that Ivan had been wrong when he'd said friends were liabilities.

They were her greatest joy and strength.

'I will make you into a weapon itself. You will become automatic and unfeeling as the best
spies and killers, but twice as dangerous' he'd said on one winter afternoon.

A freezing and nameless four year old had looked into his grey eyes, nervously picking at the
fabric of her jumpsuit as she asked in her recently practiced English, 'And the others? Will
you make them strong?'

Ivan had laughed, a dark booming sound that brought up remnants of fear that was slowly
being beaten out of her.

'There are no others, you are made to be alone. That is how it will always be'

The little girl had nodded, albeit somberly, then dared to ask, 'What about you?'

Ivan had chuckled once more, moving to the rack of weapons to fetch a curved sword for
today's painful lesson.

'I think one day you might try to kill me, either to claim the Red Room or to get vengeance.
When you do, make sure its a clean kill, an honorable death'

The little girl couldn't imagine ever turning on Ivan at the time, so she'd bowed her head
respectfully as said, 'I wouldn't dream of taking arms against you, my life has no meaning, I
only live to bring glory to you and Russia'

Ivan had hummed in understanding, almost as if he knew that statement to be false.

'Regardless, you will be alone always. And once I die, you will be even more so'

Brook shrugged off the words from long ago, hating how Ivan's voice had been sneaking into
her mind more often since that prison visit.

He was locked up, nothing but a liar and manipulator.

Brooklyn was here, being anything but alone in this peaceful existence.

It was funny how almost at the same time, all babies began to cry (except Ned's because he'd
hacked his). Brook had rushed to grab Rosa, humming the lullaby and rocking the child in
her arms as Damian passed her the pacifier form the baby bag by his side.

Brook caught it in one hand without taking her gaze off the crying child. She could hear
Damian move to her side, mixing the disgusting 'baby formula' in the bottle for Rosa. When
she looked, he was doing so absentmindedly, preparing the mix while keeping his eyes on the
text from his elder brother who had no doubt arrived back to his home in Blüdhaven as
Damian had mentioned would happen during their talk last night.

She knew it made him upset when Dick left, even if he'd never actually voiced that specific
emotion. Perhaps Brook would spend some extra time awake with him tonight, let him drop
off Goliath so she could warm him with her fire so the creature would stop bothering
Damian.
Seriously, it was like they were co parenting not just their school project but also the Dragon
Bat. Completely normal of course...

Damian threw the bottle her way, which Brook lazily caught just as she handed over Rosa to
him. After securing the bottle, she made sure to not lean too close to Damian as she fed the
child while he swayed in place, frowning when he had to gently wipe a stray drop of
substance from Rosa's cheek.

Both teens smirked when Rosa stopped crying while the wails of others remained. When she
looked up to taunt them, she noticed why the robots were still crying. Everyone was staring at
them with wide eyes, mouths practically reaching the floor.

"What?" Brook asked, almost terrified to look behind herself only to see a Joker sent mutant.

Harry stood from his chair, holding onto Harriet Osborn rather carelessly as he yelled, "What
the hell was that!? You two looked like parents on steroids with that fancy throwing shit! I
though Brook was doing all the work taking care of the robot!"

Damian huffed out a dark chuckle.

"Just because you are incapable of taking care of your robot doesn't mean I am. I will achieve
the highest grade at all costs, don't you doubt that Osborn" Damian said, but the threat was
less so as Dami stood with Rosa in her arms, wrapping her pink blanket across his chest as he
soothed the plastic head.

"I am capable! I have more emotions that you!" Harry complained, sinking back into his seat
with a pout Tanya laughed at.

Ned looked about ready to faint at the 'impossible' sight. Peter just looked lost.

Once Damian excused himself to go to the bar for some water, Tanya whispered, "I know you
two hate each other and all, but that was the hottest most domestic thing I've ever seen"

MJ, who was holding Fannie on one hand and book in the other added, "You two are a good
team"

In her panic, Brook rolled her eyes and said, "I want a high grade too. Damian and I may be
reluctant allies but I still hate him, I just care about my grades more"

"Yes well I want a partner who will pull their weight as much as Damian of all people!"
Tanya added, shooting a fiery glare at Harry as he panicked on how to get the child to shut
up.

Jon merely leaned back against his chair, crying baby Seyg on his chest as he explained,
"Damian is good at everything, always has been. But I'm surprised he's so good at it and
Brook too for that matter" Brook shot him a glare, "I will admit that was cool!"

Brooklyn debated picking a fight with Jon, but her gaze lingered on Yelena, who refused to
hold the baby when offered. She'd done that in the past as well when she or Jon had dropped
off their baby for patrols. Brook had just assumed she was doing the assignment without a
hitch, especially since she got along best with Jon.

But no...something was wrong.

As everyone got up to pace the secret room, competing on who could get their child to quiet
first, Brook gently pulled Yelena to an empty two person table at the corner of the room, out
of earshot of everyone, even the kryptonian.

"What's your deal with Seyg? I have never seen you hold him" Brook asked, getting straight
to the point. Yelena was never one for small talk anyways.

The blonde's eyes widened slightly at the odd topic, looking towards Jon who sported a bright
smile as he sang the alphabet to the baby, treating it like it was alive.

Yelena merely answered, "I don't have training on how to deal with them, and I hate it"

"I think the point of the assignment, aside from scaring everyone into celibacy, IS to get that
training. Plus, you may not like the robot, Damian hates children too, but he's still putting that
aside for the sake of the assignment. You should help Jon as well" Brook explained, but she
saw there was something deeper in that frown she shot at Jon and Seyg.

Brook was lucky to have people to talk to when she was in doubt, and she'd once promised
herself that she'd try to help Yelena as much as possible. Maybe this was it.

Yelena was still closed off, quiet, but as the weeks and months together had passed, she'd
become comfortable talking about the hardest of issues for them. The Red Room.

The Stark had not expected that to be brought up in that moment.

"Its just...the Red Room..." Yelena stuttered, banging a fist on the wooden table loud enough
that Damian turned his gaze to them, ready to come to Brook's aid. She just shook her head at
him, a silent bequest to stay where he was, scolding Jon on how to hold the child properly.

Brook often forgot how much longer Yelena had been in the Red Room. How some lessons
would still be fresh in her mind despite her incredible progress.

This was hard for her, not physically but mentally.

Turning back to Yelena, Brook nodded in understanding and said, "I had no clue what to do
with Rosa either. All of this being soft and gentle...its the opposite of who we were supposed
to be. I get that it seems odd tackling things the Red Room did not teach, but its not as bad as
you think"

Yelena shook her head, fisting parts of her blonde locks as she beheld Jon dancing with the
baby with a pained look on her face. That was new.

"Its not that...I just...look at that thing and remember that I can't...have that. The school is
trying to prepare us for the future of having a family right? But that's something I can't have.
Not because of lack of trust or the training we had...I just physically can't have a family. You
could have it one day...but I can't"

Because of the Red Room. Ivan.

The graduating ceremony.

Yelena huffed out angrily, not at any person, just at the fact itself as she said, "I never cared
much about that till now when Jon keep joking about how that doll is our child... but he
doesn't know I can't have kids. He doesn't know that I no longer have a uterus or ovaries, that
they were ripped out of my body. Jon doesn't know that I submitted myself to have that
hysterectomy willingly so I would be a better killer. A person like that can't be a mother, she
can't have a family"

Brook knew that ceremony was anything but a willing action, she couldn't even begin to
imagine what it was like now, to live a different life where the Avengers, SHIELD, and the
world promised a happy ending.

She knew Yelena was afraid of being alone, just as Brooklyn was.

This assignment...a promise of a future she couldn't have...Brook had been such an idiot for
not thinking of how this would affect Yelena personally. She'd been a fool not prying about
her behavior earlier.

The Stark had never been good when it came to comforting people other than Damian. She
considered her skills on proper advice to be very little...but Yelena was her friend, her sestra,
and in every way that mattered...she was family.

Ned, Peter, and Harry had grown up together, and there was a time when Brook was upset
she had no one from.the past like they did. But she had Yelena. The two had grown up the
Red Room, hell, Yelena's bed had been next to Brook's since they'd been assigned.

They had trained together. Killed together. And both survived...

Yes, Yelena was family, probably the oldest family she had. And family helped one another.
Whatever it takes.

Chipping at the crumbling pieces of wood on the table, Brook kept her gaze low, whispering,
"If there is one thing I've learned these past few months is that family goes beyond blood.
Just look at me, I was adopted by Pepper, my brother Harley by my parents. Both are still my
family. Hell, even Damian has a mass of adopted siblings" she explained, looking up at her
friend's green orbs as she added, "If one day you truly want this kind of life and future with a
husband and family, you can still have it. Natasha is the same as you and she is not afraid to
get close to people because of it, she's a badass, remember? We need to follow her example
sometimes. She learns quicker than we do. Plus...you're already my sister, you're family.
Everyone in this room considers you a friend, as one of their own. You're not alone"

Yelena considered, turning back to see Jon placing kind kisses atop his robot's forehead.
Almost as if sensing her gaze, Jon met her eyes with a smile, raising one of Seyg's arms to
wave at the widow.

Brook pretended not to see as Yelena wiped a tear from her eye, knowing the blonde would
hate it if she brought it up.

When the blonde turned back to face the Stark, expression calmer as she breathed out,
"Technically I'm your cousin. But I suppose you might be right. I got too caught up on the
what ifs, hows, and whens...but do you really think one day Natasha and Steve will adopt
someone? That even the great Black Widow will have a family?"

There was no question about that paring being a thing in the long run, not between the two
teens.

At least Yelena was making an effort to lighten the mood.

"I feel like the Avengers and their jobs are already their kids. But I would like to believe they
would form a family of their own one day. Nat loves Uncle Clint's kids, she'd be good with
having some of her own. If she has a happy ending, then perhaps so can we" Brook answered
honestly.

Yelena let out a relaxed breath, staring at the ancient brick walls beside her, tracing their
lines.

"Steve is a good man...good for Nat too" she said, "I heard our sestra say she felt the safest
and most understood when she's with him. She tells him about her past without fear of being
judged, a luxury I thought none of us would have outside our little group of Ivan's victims"

Brook turned to see the rest of their friends, letting their smiles warm her heart, their mischief
and teasing light her soul.

Yes, they had gotten very lucky with the life they had...

"I think you should talk to someone about that, about the years in the Red Room. I can tell
you from experience it helps. Someone other than me or Nat...it's helpful to get an outsiders
perspective" the Stark admitted, not entire sure what kind of person she would be right now if
she'd continued to let her past fester inside her soul.

Probably someone scared of getting close to people, like Yelena was now.

It was an innocent question yet difficult in its own right as Yelena asked, "Who did you speak
to? Who did you trust with that?"

Brooklyn was already keeping the possibility of Yelena being Ivan's daughter as a heavy
secret.

The least she could do was be honest about this.

"Damian" she replied, fighting the urge to look at him, "but I think that even without the
assassin background, Jon would be very understanding. He is a kind soul, someone who cares
about you and has stuck by your side, Yelena"
The girl rubbed at her temples, fingers gracing the woven strands of her own sweater, the
stitching of the football jacket she wore. Jon's jacket.

Brook had meant her words, no matter how bold. Jon would try to understand, he would be
there for Yelena the way he'd always been there for Damian. The kindness in his heart and the
light in his spirit could be useful to Yelena...after all, he may not know what the Red Room
was like. He was so kind, someone could drop a moon on him and he'd likely apologize.

Voice softer than earlier, Yelena whispered, "What if he thinks I'm a freak?"

Brooklyn leaned forward on the table, grabbing the blonde's hand as she said rather sternly, "I
know he won't, because you aren't a freak. This was not something you did, it's something
that was done to you, sestra. I know with absolute certainty that Jon likes you beyond
anything you were when you showed up at my apartment to kidnap me"

That brought out a small smile onto the teen's face. Small, but it was there.

Rather sarcastically, Yelena asked, "When did you become the voice of reason, sestra?"

Both girls chuckled at that.

"I'm not sure" she replied adding with a bit of teasing of her own, "Maybe all this fake
parenting gave me wisdom beyond my years"

Their amusement was cut short when they heard Harry whining, reaching over to hold the
Kent baby. Brook caught wind of Yelena's mumbling as she stood from her chair. I'll help. I'll
help.

The girl watched as Yelena strutted with sure steps towards the pair of boys, seeming a little
less confident as she said, "Don't touch Seyg. I'll hold him"

Brook had the faint feeling of Damian moving to take a seat beside her. She'd almost held his
hand, but caught her limb before she made a slip up before all their friends. Not that they
were looking as Yelena fumbled getting the blanket-wrapped baby into her arms.

When the blonde began to doubt, when her arms began to fumble, Jon was there to show her
how to do so properly. Not once scolding or even mentioning this was the first time Yelena
had deigned to hold the child. He looked happy to help, mentioning he'd had plenty of
practice because of his youngest sisters.

Brooklyn watched as Yelena grew more comfortable with it, as she began to relax, pushing
back the darkness of the past little by little.

"Jon was beginning to think Yelena might be allergic to robots" Damian said, leaning forward
to whisper so against her ear.

Brook fought the urge to laugh as she took Rosa from Damian's care, both their eyes still on
the others from their corner of the room.

"I assume you told him such a hypothesis was ridiculous?"

Damian smirked out of sight of the others, his eyes on her own as he replied with no once of
shame, "Of course not. Though I am glad to see their assignment won't be wrapped in foil
any time soon"

That made her laugh.

Hours later, they all found themselves in the central table, most of them amused as Tanya
ranted about the heroes she'd met the other day, the famous Dynasty that had saved her father.
Turned out, despite her unofficial relationship with Raven, the cheerleader still swore that if
the mysterious Spider-man ever ask for her hand in marriage she would say yes.

Both Harry and Jon agreed. Jon with a smirk towards the blushing Peter.

To further the amusement, MJ claimed she liked Robin's past views on defiance of corrupt
government powers, unaware of Damian's identity. What almost made Brook spit out her
milkshake was when Harry claimed he wanted to be like Robin. Damian muttered something
about needing a new alter ego after that, albeit jokingly.

Praise for Firestar was thrown around too by her clueless friends, which should've felt great,
but instead left the Stark feeling awful. She often thought about telling Harry, MJ, and Tanya
the truth about said heroes. But it might put them in danger.

It was not worth it.

So she sat through the conversations, keeping her hand and Damian's locked together under
the table to the obliviousness of everyone. Thanks to Harry mentioning Firestar was
'incredibly good looking and a complete badass he's love to marry', Damian had been a little
bolder than usual with his privacy on affection.

Maybe one day she'd have to confess to her hero identity and to her relationship...but today
was not that day.

By the time almost everyone decided to leave around six (because of patrols), the group had
decided that this secret room would be a great place to hang out, perhaps even for secret team
meetings as well.

Thank goodness for the prohibition.

The owner had given them all her blessing on using the secret space for themselves, which
might be even more private than just discussing things in Brook's apartment. A promising
place to deal with whatever the future held.

As she left homeward bound on Roscoe with Damian, Peter and Jon...she couldn't help but
think that because the prohibition had been big here...there must be many secret places like
the one at the Briar Rose cafe.

Others could have secret places as well...those she was looking for perhaps.

It was certainly something to look into.

 Older Sibling Scheming
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Pepper POV-

Natasha looked around those gathered in the small conference room, her gaze lingering
briefly on the closed door hoping no one would barge in when such a delicate subject was
about to be discussed.

She'd assembled a group here for a very special mission, an incredibly serious matter.

Operation Red League.

Something of outmost secrecy, enough so that only she, Steve, and Pepper knew of its
existence (and Clint but he was away on a mission).

The name itself was vague enough that if heard at the Avengers' floors, no one would know
what it meant. Read League. A combination of the Red Room and the League of Assassins,
of Brooklyn and the youngest Wayne.

Steve hated the name, something about a breach of privacy between both teens being
immoral.

"I still think we shouldn't meddle with the feelings of youngsters, especially when they're
both trained assassins that could send us to the med bay for even knowing what we know"
Steve muttered gently.

Pepper smirked, placing one of her hands atop his own as she said "It took you over five
years to ask out Nat and you weren't raised in a place that frowned upon emotions. If we want
Brook to one day be happy, I'm afraid a little bit of meddling is the price to pay for my
daughter's future"

Nat hummed in agreement.

"After the visit Brook payed to Ivan, I've seen subtle changes in her. In training, her mind
wanders, her hits are stronger, using more techniques from the Red Room" Nat confessed,
"This thing with the Wayne is odd, but I've never seen Brooklyn happier and further from the
Red Room's influence than when she's by his side"

Pepper frowned at the new information, but her gaze was not amazed by it. She too had to
have noticed changes in Brook, even if the woman could not read fighting techniques as Nat
could.

Ivan had said something that shook Brook from her current path, something she refused to
share.
In the brief exchanges of texts throughout the weekday, Nat could tell this mess with the
Joker and Ivan was getting to her.

The older widow had once been in a position where she thought that in order to win a battle,
she had to revert to her past. The results had been anything but pleasant.

Now it was Natasha's turn to spare her sestra from such pain. It was her job to help Brooklyn
when she wouldn't, or perhaps couldn't, help herself.

"So we do what exactly?" Steve asked, leaning forward on the conference table, eyes serious
as he added, "We prod her for answers on what's been going on with the Wayne?"

Pepper smirked, glad to see Nat's boyfriend (albeit secretly) was finally on board.

"Brook is stubborn," Nat said, subtly grabbing a remote from her pocket, gesturing for the 3D
mapping of the table to activate as well as the screen behind her, "I think she's had a little too
much on her plate...I say we fix that"

Steve groaned, raking a hand through his golden locks as he beheld the floor plan on the table
which lit up his face in a hew of bright blue.

"This is Stark's building. Isn't this the worst place to start? Tony hates Damian" Steve said,
grabbing part of the 3D model into his hand, turning it around to show the Stark logo at the
top of the miniature skyscraper.

Nat smirked at his doubts. Let this serve as a lesson for the Captain that when Nat planned
something, it was all carefully calculated.

"Lets begin Operation Red League shall we?" she announced, sharing her devious plan with
her allies for almost three hours until everyone knew their jobs and assignments.

The cost of failure was Tony's wrath.

The prize of success...preventing a rising light from sinking to the darkness.

*******

Nat had shown up to Brook's room at the compound bright and early on a Saturday morning,
almost amused to see the teen and Yelena were already awake with their school assignments
swaddled against the cold in their arms.

Both girls were seated on the floor, clad in their pjs that made them look like anything other
than trained assassins. Brooklyn had been teaching Yelena how to care for the robot baby in
her arms, both girls playfully shouting at one another in Russian when the blonde made a
mistake or performed something successfully.

Nat couldn't help but stand by the door for a few seconds, seeing the two teens smiling
around a pile of sweets Steve would not approve of so early in the morning. For a moment,
they were just teens, just girls being girls.
Natasha had once debated asking the young blonde if she'd seen anything odd at school
between Brook and the Wayne. If Yelena had, she'd never brought it up.

Yelena's loyalty to Brooklyn was strong, it would be a mistake to ask about the Wayne when
such information could get back to the young Stark. Which meant, Nat had to go through
with what she already knew.

Brooklyn had feelings for Damian al Ghul (Yelena had dropped the bomb of his true heritage
and involvement in the League casually yesterday over lunch, almost sending sauce up Nat's
nose), and the boy seemed to be in the same spot. They both likely had no clue what they
were feeling or how to deal with it...which is where Nat came in with her devious plan (with
the silent intention of making sure Brook being around an al Ghul was safe).

Seemingly relaxed, Nat made herself known with a simple greeting, instructing Yelena she
had training in half an hour with Steve today. The teen knew the drill now, leaving the room
to get ready with the promise to leave her doll with Pepper.

Before Brook could mention going on additional training today, Nat made her move.

"You've been working too hard lately," Nat said casually, "and I've been pilled with missions
for weeks. I got permission from Fury to leave the compound today for some obligated free
time, care to join me?"

Brook's spirits seemed to brighten at the words.

The teen nodded, quickly changing into a warm wool sweater and some jeans, placing a few
weapons within her clothing in record time before rushing to drop off her own robot child
with Pepper, who would no doubt call Vision over to help just for fun.

Since everyone became aware of the school project Midtown had assigned the thee teens,
they'd all had a blast seeing the teens struggle daily with the hardships of parenting. Tony
more than the others.

Surprisingly, Brooklyn had been the best with her own kid. Peter had been the sweetest to
watch, but Tony was just glad the constant crying at night from the robots would serve as a
reminder to his daughter and apprentice that they could not have kids yet.

Little did Tony know, Nat knew such a future was likely never to happen.

She was betting on another team.

It was with careful research that the Black Widow had figured out Mr. Wayne and his
youngest son would be at their company building in Manhattan today. The Wayne building
was two blocks from the Stark building Tony was currently at since 'Pepper felt the
beginnings of a cold' and couldn't make it to the office.

Fortunately, Mr. Wayne had taken the opportunity to go pay a visit to 'Mr. Stark' for some
issue concerning the alien weapons confiscated last night by Batman. That had been a spark
of luck, Nat's plan had been much more complicated last night until Pepper came running in
with the schedule change.

The meeting had to be urgent if both adults had agreed to meet....and it was. SHIELD and the
Justice league both had confiscated alien weapons to study, but there was some issue about
these specific weapons being more advanced than prior ones.

That was bound to keep the enemy pair busy for a while.

So, for Girl's Day, Nat decided to drive them over to a crepes joint between both buildings.
She and Brook had made sure to bring sunglasses and keep their coat hoods up since they
arrived to avoid fans and paparazzi.

It was after their fifth chocolate covered crepe that Nat got a text from Peps, displayed on the
inside of her shades...

Damian finally left the office. Tony instructed he wait at the lobby. They'll be inside for a
while.

Steve was busy keeping Fury from tracking Nat's movements, but he was still quick to text
back, Mission is a go?

Nat waited until Brook became distracted by a street performer to reply, Mission is a go,
heading for target 2.

As Nat payed for the meal, the widow suggested they go for a walk, claiming she missed the
freedom of strolling around. That wasn't a lie, but this was not about Natasha's loss of
freedom.

Side by side, the two walked through the busy streets of Manhattan, the civilians around them
unaware of just who was walking in their midsts. It was even more ironic considering some
people sported toys or clothes of the new heroes of New York, the Dynasty team.

Nat caught Brook blushing when some kids ran by with black gauntlets screaming the name
of the now famous 'mutant' Firestar, pretending to spout flames from their hands.

Natasha couldn't help but be proud of the life her sestra was pursuing, she just hoped it would
continue its course, bloom into something extraordinary.

On the corner of Nat's sunglasses, in the hidden screen, a notification popped up, a bright dot
appeared in what was labeled as the Stark lobby floor plan.

He was still there....good.

Guiding her sestra inside the Stark building to say hello to her father had been easy.
According to Pepper, the father and daughter duo texted every day, called when they could.
They were close enough that Brooklyn must've missed not seeing him during breakfast,
Natasha was just tagging along to a 'totally not planned' stray to their girls day.
The subtle earpiece Nat had came to life with Steve's voice, a seriousness to it he only
possessed during missions. It was almost funny how seriously he was taking this...

"Everything is ready inside, Nat. Good luck"

Nat fought back a smile, keeping her gaze disinterested as the door man looked at the IDs of
the two girls. He was startled to see the heiress and Black Widow, but thankfully kept his
mouth shut as he let them inside the large building bustling with life.

As they passed the main desk, Natasha angled her body just enough for Brooklyn to catch
sight of the Wayne lounging angrily by one of the large sitting areas. He was on his own,
frowning at his phone. He was clad in black clothes, in that black turtleneck and pressed
pants Nat had seen him wear the first time she met him. Only now it was paired with a coat
and loose scarf long enough to reach his knees. He looked like he belonged here with all the
formalwear and briefcases, even if he was clearly cursing under his breath.

No one understood what he was saying of course, Nat could tell, but no one dared to sit by
his side in that elegant sitting area. No one even dared to look the teen in the eye.

Nat hid a smirk at the sheer power that kid possessed, causing fear at such a young age
without having to do a thing. No one had any clue the Wayne was the famous Robin, no one
would think someone as quiet and violent to the media would be a hero. The perfect disguise
in Nat's eyes.

Brook had chosen well...even if he was an al Ghul.

When Brooklyn's gaze lingered on the teen for a few seconds, Nat knew her job was almost
to a close. She nudged Brook with a shoulder, pretending to look at her phone with the other.

"I just texted your mom that we're here but she said your dad is busy in some meeting so I
guess we'll have to wait. Mind if I take a detour to visit Maria Hill? I haven't seen her in
days" Nat asked.

Book tore her gaze from the Wayne then, a raised brow appearing above the rim of her
sunglasses.

"I didn't know you liked to socialize, sestra" she said sarcastically.

Nat scoffed, but motioned to the elevator on the left side of the grand space, "I might be in
there for an hour or so if Hill has something to report. Your mom said you should go to the
cafeteria to get something to eat, no one will be there at this time so you can eat in peace
without the disguise"

The teen nodded, quickly dismissing Nat with a wave as she moved to the other side of the
lobby, being careful not to show she was heading where the Wayne was. The boy had spotted
her as well, somehow managing to pinpoint her despite the sunglasses and hoodie.

As Nat boarded the glass elevator, she beheld Rosa moving towards the stairs no one used, a
smart tactic which the Wayne followed.
She took the bait.

In her earpiece, Nat heard Pepper's clear voice as she explained, "The cafeteria has been
evacuated, it should be empty with with plenty of food by the time they make it to the tenth
floor"

Steve added, "I just put the....what's it called again?"

Nat smirked, keeping her voice low as to not alert the others in the large elevator as she
whispered to the 100 year old man, "A USB flash drive"

"Yes that" Steve said, already exasperated, "I put it in the computer like you said, the security
protocols of the cafeteria have been hacked. Video footage is being replaced by our own, the
kids should be invisible"

"But we have live feed right?" Nat whispered, getting off the elevator to the break room
Pepper had reserved for Nat. As the ex-assassin settled on a sleeping pod in the locked room,
Steve replied with a heavy amount of guilt, "Yes, I'm sending the feed to you and Pepper
through the secure network, but remember we are only snooping for a few minutes!"

That was the deal the ever righteous Captain America had made them swear on when they
made this little plan. It seemed fair, but Nat considered this as payback for Brook's constant
subtle teasing looks and comments about her relationship with Steve.

As promised, the feed of the cafeteria appeared on Nat's shades just as she got very
comfortable on the sleeping pod, one she might ask Tony to bring a few of to the compound.
Once relaxed, the woman smirked as she beheld Brook and Damian al Ghul entering the
empty cafeteria, standing quite close as they beheld the empty space.

The two teens grabbed some food, barely anything, likely in case someone came in and they
needed to make a run for it. They also sat by the southern exit of the cafeteria, which led
down a rarely used staircase. Smart kids.

There was no fighting, arguing, or sneers between the two kids.

Brooklyn grabbed sodas for both of them as Damian picked out granola bars and assortments
of nuts as well as some treats. When Brook placed both his coat and her sweater on the
nearby rack, the boy pulled out her chair like a true gentleman.

Pepper was happy about that at least.

The teens divided the spoils they'd snagged, but kept an eye on the various entrances into the
building, being careful to angle their faces away from any visible cameras. What those kids
did not know is that Nat had predicted that from Brook and had set up a camera of her own,
the one that now fed them the video feed.

Though a bit of guilt began crawling its ay up Nat's throat, she couldn't keep her gaze of the
two teens, unable to truly grasp that the boy before Rosa was related to Ra's al Ghul...THE
Ra's al Ghul.
It astounded Nat that somehow those two had come together, heirs of enemy guilds, heirs of
enemy companies and families....but Brooklyn looked happier already. She was smiling,
largely and brightly as the Wayne mentioned something about a kid named Flash taking a
basketball to the face, courtesy of the Wayne himself.

"You could've gotten detention for that" Brook said, but it sounded like more of a reprimand
than anger itself.

Damian smirked.

"Luckily our teacher is an oaf and spends more time on his phone than watching the students"
he said, then reluctantly added, "besides, Flash was being particularly irksome. Making
comments like that about your physique was anything but acceptable"

Brooklyn rolled her eyes, stealing a piece of his granola bar.

"He's always saying stuff like that, but I suppose thanks is in order for very subtlety fighting
for my honor" she replied with an air of teasing.

The Wayne hummed in agreement, "Even after I had to insult you afterwards?"

"I did it back didn't I?" Brook said, but still reached into her pile of food, not from the
cafeteria...but from hers and Nat's brief stop at the Lindt Chocolate Shop.

Nat was astounded when she realized Brooklyn was ACTUALLY splitting her chocolate bar.

Brook was an assassin, sharing did not come easy to their kind...yet there she was willingly
giving half (no less) of her favorite treat to the 'enemy'. To others, it might seem like nothing,
but Nat was almost knocked back from the impact of it all.

Brook was sharing now. She was smiling and teasing, risking getting caught by her own
father in HIS building just for an hour in the company of that boy...

"You know this is pure sugar?" Damian said with a frown, yet still took a bite of the treat
without a second thought. The sight of which made all three adults chuckle slightly.

As Brooklyn bit into her own half, she made sure to savor it for a second.

"I think after the hell of a week we've had, we deserve this sugar"

The Wayne did not argue, just met Brook's outstretched hand for their bars to come together
in cheers.

"Having a meal with me in my father's building...what a bold risk, Mr. Wayne" Brook teased
after a bite of her chocolate, earning a kick under the table from the boy.

He was quick to reply, "I'll do whatever it takes to annoy my beloved nemesis"

Somehow the mention of those words meant something to them, enough that Nat could see a
content smile spread across her sestra's face. Her stance relaxed, a gesture of vulnerability
Brook had only granted a handful of people...including this boy.

"Well then, my esteemed rival" Brook said, "While our parents are busy fighting to the death
in my dad's office, what do you want to do? I have an hour before I have to find Nat to
continue our Girl's Day out"

Damian let out a surprised chuckle. It was not as unrestrained as Brook's, but from the gasp
she heard from Pepper, it must be a big gesture for the teen she'd mentioned knowing since
he was a young boy going to company events.

"Girl's day? Did you go get your nails done or something?"

That wasn't a taunt, or an insult....Nat quickly realized that was a joke.

Natasha had only been to the League of Assassins twice in her life, and each of those times,
she'd been reminded that the stronghold in the mountains was probably one of the most cruel
places in the world.

This boy was from there, yet Nat had seen him and his family fight the famous Talia al
Ghul...his own mother. Maybe Natasha had been wrong to assume this kid was bad news
once upon a time. Clearly, whatever and whoever he had been before was gone.

He wasn't Damian al Ghul. He was Damian Wayne...and he was with Brooklyn Stark, both
having a chocolate bar despite their father's being thirty floors above them. They did not care.
The two seemed to treasure the hour they had, exchanging stories of their weekend so far,
making jokes, discussing homework...as if they weren't enemies or heroes.

While the Wayne drew the landscape down the window on a napkin (which Steve the artist
admitted was very good work), Brooklyn told stories of her past when mentioned. She did
not hesitate once to speak of the harsh past, not with him.

The stories of days spent forced to paint the floors red with blood, of freezing winters and
long punishments did not seem to faze the Wayne, not when he shared equally brutal stories
of his own.

Neither teen showed pity, only controlled anger to those who had hurt the other.

That's what Natasha held on to when she eventually had to make it back to the lobby, what
Pepper and Steve were still trying to process. Nat's previous hope had been correct...those
two were good for one another.

When she arrived down a few minutes late to give the kids time to make it back, Brook was
waiting as if nothing had happened. Nat still had no idea what the last words the two teens
shared meant (what Steve had allowed them to see). What was that about visiting a Goliath?
Were they reading the story of Briar Rose? What plans had they spoken about revising?

Natasha couldn't ask through, she didn't even dare stare at the seated Wayne for too long, not
when he was looking their way.
Brooklyn had greeted Nat with a smile, handing over some packaged food in case the woman
was hungry. Poor Brook still had some chocolate stains on the corners of her lips.

Nat wanted to be out the building before Tony spotted them, so she ushered Brook out so
they could go shopping to pass the time. Only when Nat was leaving did she sneak a glance
back at the Wayne, noticing his frown was back, that uninviting aura and deadly cold green
eyes returning. Like Brooklyn, the kid still had some evidence of the secret meal on his face,
the faintest trace of pomegranate juice on his lips.

As Nat exited the building, she almost stopped dead in her tracks as she realized Brooklyn
had been the only of the two who had dared to eat a few pomegranate seeds.

The Wayne had refused.

It took everything in Nat not to turn around again as she connected the dots of the twelve
minutes the two teens spent coming down the lone stairs, as she realized Brook still wore her
signature red lipstick that was almost the shade of...

It was impossible right? Because that could only mean that they had....

Holy shi-

Jason Todd POV-

*Ironically, not long after*

Jason had asked himself what he want to be when he grew up long ago. That was assuming
he was allowed to. The voice - the one that wouldn't go away - kept reminding Jason that he
was supposed to have died.

Not once. Twice.

He was living on borrowed time. But at least he was living.

So why didn't he feel ... happier?

Maybe that's what made seeing Damian getting his life together a little more amusing. Jason
was older, was supposed to be the one who already HAD his life on track.

Sure, he had his role as Red Hood, a home with 'parents' and siblings, but...

Dicky was already married to a badass space wife, had the Titans to lead and a normal
civilian job paired with the white picked fence life and the promise of a family of his own in
the future. Tim was not doing too shabby either, he had Steph and the brains to tackle any job
he wished that would grant him a millionaire lifestyle.

Legend had it that Babs was seeing someone in secret, thinking of applying to her dad's old
job as police commissioner of Gotham City. Things had been more difficult without the man
being there in between for the police force and Bats. Bab's taking the job would certainly be a
good life choice, especially now that she could walk and run as she once used to.

As for Cass...well she never spoke much. Dick mentioned Cass was fueled for vengeance
against the League for what they did to Damian. That sense of purpose seemed to make her
days anything but dull, must be an assassin thing, being happy just to have someone to fight
against.

Jason wasn't much better in that regard.

At least Cassandra viewed her life here in the manor as a peaceful bliss...

Then there was the person Jason assumed would be miserable all his life...Damian. The
demon spawn had been nothing but an asshole straight out of hell since the beginning of
time. Jason was almost certain he'd been born with a scowl on his face and a snarky attitude.

It had been six years of practically no change, except for Bruce's ideology of no killing and
the abandonment of animal products in his diet.

This year though...it had been a rollercoaster ride, and Jason was just a watching bystander!

'Can we please go back to the days when all you needed to be a hero was a grappling hook
and a tireless supply of punches?' he thought to himself.

Things were getting batshit crazy already, pun intended.

Damian Wayne was true to his recent reputation of being the most unpredictable of all the
Waynes. He'd befriended a Stark, the forbidden species of humans for their kind as 'Waynes'.
He was now a hero in New York, not just a vigilante in the shadows like the rest of them
(Bruce and Dick aside).

No longer was Jon Kent the demon's only friend. Jason had heard those two on the phone
with at least three others, whom he assumed were Spider-man, Crimson Widow, Firestar, and
whoever else Damian deemed a good ally.

Seriously...when did all these new heroes suddenly pop up out of nowhere...

Now, Jason did not give a single fuck about Damian's life, because he did not care about the
kid himself...but the situation was rather interesting, enough to get his ass out of bed on a
weekend at the summons of his excited siblings.

'Father dearest' had left with Selina to do some baby shopping which doubled as content for
the media to gobble up. Jason was lucky that he never had to deal with the spotlight, mostly
because as far as records went, he was already dead.

Unfortunately, that did not get him out of being dragged to the Batcave at the ungodly hour of
ten in the afternoon by none other than Tim.

Everyone was gathered by the large table in the middle of the cave, looking serious as Dick
stood up and addressed the room even as Batcow slowly moved to stand by his side, making
the 'serious' ambiance seem just a little ridiculous.

Jason considered mocking Tim for the very visible hickies along his neck, but was
interrupted as Dicky said, "With Damian busy at the company playing CEO, we are gathered
here today because as his siblings, I think it's time we help him out. We have been so busy
with missions that we have neglected him as of late"

Steph smirked, leaning back on her chair, red silk robe following her movements as she piped
in, "I see him when he comes back from school. He's still a brat to me but seems happier
somehow, even with the robot Wayne in the picture"

Tim smirked, "B has been on edge, mumbling nonsense at work about Damian being more
prepared to care for a baby that he is. Maybe he'll get a doll of his own"

Now that would be amusing.

A big and serious guy like Bruce Wayne playing dolls for experience, if Jason had money of
his own, he'd pay to see that.

"What brought this on all of the sudden?" Jason asked, daring to put his feet up on the table.
No one seemed to mind the 'indecency' of it all, not even Batcow.

Barbara turned to Tim, who'd stopped typing on his laptop to say, "When Damian came home
yesterday, he looked...unnerved. He looked like we do sometimes, too troubled for our age,
too much power but too much responsibility. He's back on patrols here in Gotham, stuck
doing on the spotlight hero work in Queens too. Plus school and that robot baby that won't let
him sleep, it's like he's aged a decade"

For Tim of all people to say that...

So what? Maybe the demon was overworked, hell, Jason had spent many a days of his
childhood like that not just as Robin, but when he was out on the streets all alone.

Maybe all this work was a good thing. Let Damian be too exhausted to bother Jason for all he
cared...

Steph was letting Bab's braid her blonde hair, looking content as a cat as she replied sleepily,
"Bruce never outright told us to be Damian's older siblings, and I feel like most of us were
quick to think that because he was from the League, that he could take care of himself. In
truth, we're probably just shitty siblings. Damian is the most closed off, snarky, and annoying
being I've ever met, but he's also out responsibility. Least we can do is make sure
he's...content...with life"

Damian being happy....somehow those two words in the same sentence only lined up to mean
one thing.

Brooklyn Stark.

As if reading his tired mind, Dick announced, "Babs is right, Damian may be mature in many
aspects of life, but he's dumb as a fly when it comes to emotions. Perhaps we can give him a
little break today, a break he will actually appreciate"

Great.

A childish matchmaking plan....

"If Bruce ever finds out we know those two spend time together AND that we encourage
it...he'll kill us all. Hope you all realize that" Jason said, absentmindedly polishing the gun he
had in hand in the gloominess of the cave.

With this dark ambiance, one would thing a bunch of vigilantes gathering in it could only be
bad news...but instead they were planning a playdate between enemies. It was both
depressing and amusing to him at the same time.

Still, as his words echoed across the table, the faces of his siblings seemed to realize the
extent of their 'crimes'. Yet none of them backed down from Dick's plan, if anything, they
seemed to brush father aside as they looked to the head of the table for instructions.

"This is not about dad it's about our brother" Dick replied, voice strong, posture sure as that
of when he was Nightwing.

Jason rolled his eyes at the words, unable to keep from arguing, "Damian wouldn't do shit for
us, so why should we help him defy Wayne laws? I'm pretty sure he almost let his new little
pet Goliath try to burn me alive last night!"

Sneaky little critter...always looking around the house for something like a lost puppy, even
when Damian was around. Settling in Jason's fireplace, scaring the shit out of him when he
came out of the shower.

Jason was pulled from his hatred by Barbara's voice across the table.

"Jay! Damian HAS done things for us, just pretended to be indifferent about it because he
thinks caring about us is ridiculous. Hell, I can walk and run just like before my accident now
thanks to his 'defying of Wayne laws'!"

Again, rather reluctantly, Tim added, "I don't exactly like Damian, but he's been changing
recently in what I hope is for the better. That kid loves to shove his blood status in our face,
but the fact remains that he is Bruce's heir, it's better that there is someone capable for that
position than a carbon copy of the worst Bruce ever was"

Jason groaned in pure bitterness.

Tim was probably the closest thing to an actual brother to Jason, the way Dick seemed to be
for Damian. But him and Tim...they were two outsiders in what he joked to be the world's
most exclusive boys' club. The Robins.

The two had many things in common, like their hate for Damian. But Tim had always been
the smarter of the two, the one with the Einstein brains.
If he bothered to see a change in Damian, then it must truly be there. As much as he hated to
admit it, Jason could also agree he didn't want another Bruce Wayne...for that he would
commit treason

As if sensing the swaying in his thoughts, Tim added, "Plus the Stark saved my life back at
that Osborn Gala. She didn't have to. She didn't have to help Barbara, or keep our secret
identities to herself. That girl is loaded with cash, could have an easy life, but I've been
observing her...she's putting in the effort, sacrifice, and work to be a hero. The world would
be a better place with less assassins and more heroes right?"

As always, Tim's words left Jason without the ability to retaliate.

This was an ambitious little project though. It was one thing to play matchmaker like they
had with Tim and Steph, but it's another to break down generations of rivalry. A challenge for
sure.

Before Jason could open his mouth to say just that, Cass made a sign in ASL, one meaning to
be quiet. Though Cassandra talked a fair amount these past few years, sometimes she still
went back to old habits of using sign language, mostly when she was tired.

The household had learned the basic signs when she'd arrived, it was honestly a miracle Jason
recalled some of it now.

Then again, Cass had always used that particular hand gesture on him specifically.

Rather than to risk a punch to the face, Jason raised his hands in surrender. If Cass was
agreeing to this plan then perhaps it wasn't so bad. She knew Damian best after all. Turning
to Dick, Jason asked lazily, "What do you want us to do?"

Dick smirked, ignoring Batcow's nibbling of his stripped sleep shorts.

"I think it's about time Damian spends some time with his little crush, give him some help"
the eldest said.

Simple. Easy to remember.

Because Jason had boasted about being the 'most experienced with romantic endeavors'
thanks to the amount of girls he'd slept with AND 'dated', Dick had left him in charge of a lot
of things. Surprisingly to everyone, Jason had agreed.

In truth, he just wanted to do this because it would put the demon in an uncomfortable
position. Damian had no clue how to flirt or understand emotions, this was like throwing the
teen into a lion's cage!

On the other hand...he hated to admit it, but Jason did owe the Stark for all the times she'd
helped save his siblings. She was alright for an assassin, certainly the least insane he'd met.

That is how they got to business, planning everything out for tomorrow for hours until Bruce
and Selina had made their way back home. At which point, they had all rushed upstairs as if
they had been lounging in the living room all day.
When Damian came back from his afternoon at the company, Jason had to fight a smirk at the
dinner table for what was to come.

As soon as the sun rose the next day, the 'Waynes' got to work.

It all started with Tim subtly rescheduling a meeting at Wayne Enterprises, one Bruce
couldn't avoid. As soon as father had left after breakfast, Stephanie had put one quite a good
show begging Selina for some desperate need for a manicure, which led to the two leaving,
hopefully all afternoon.

Jay had no clue what went on in nail salons or why it took so long to get plastic nails, but if it
gave them the time they needed...so be it.

Phase 1: Getting rid of their parents. Complete.

Still not believing he was actually doing something to help Damian, even after he'd
threatened Jason with Titus for the last bits of Fruity Pebbles this morning, he still moved to
phase 2.

Getting rid of Alfred.

That was the hardest and riskiest part of the plan, which is why the golden boy would deal
with it.

As all of them started their weekend morning training at the cave, Jason and the others
watched as Dick approached Alfred after the old man dropped off some drinks.

"Hey Al! Mind if I ask for a tiny favor?" Dick said enthusiastically.

Alfred raised a brow, but still replied, "Anything for you, Master Dick. What do you need?"

Dick made a show of leaning down to the man's ear as if sharing a secret even when everyone
had carefully crafted the little lie yesterday.

"I'm worried Beast Boy and Raven aren't eating properly lately. Their energy has been down
and with the winter cold, I'm afraid they might get sick" Dick whispered.

Like the true grandpa he was, a switch seemed to go off in Alfred before he rushed upstairs to
make some food which he would personally deliver it to the Titans Tower in Jump City Bay.
That was a long journey that would certainly give them enough time.

Their prediction payed off. Alfred was out of the picture.

Now Phase 3, bringing the Stark to what she must consider enemy territory....willingly.

This part was also a bit of a stretch of faith, a test of sorts for the princess of New York.

As soon as Alfred left and training was at its end, Jason suck one glance at a distracted
Damian before shooting a nod to Barbara. In seconds, Jay thrust the bo staff in hand carefully
between the mechanisms of the vibranium metal around her legs.
Tim had been very specific about where he was to hit, just enough to loosen some screws to
make sure the damage was not irreparable for Barbara's sake. It was better than Jason's
volunteering to smash the brace for sure.

They put on quite a show of concern for Barbara, getting her back on a wheelchair until they
could 'ask Pennyworth' to see if it could be fixed. Even if it meant going back to her
wheelchair for a day...Barbara said it was worth it.

Damian had seen the damage, had texted someone on his phone when Dick and Tim offered
to take Barbara out to her favorite private park two hours away.

A certain young teen had refused to go with them, and thanks to Jason's known hatred of
Damian, they managed to pull of leaving him behind without suspicions.

Damian's eagerness to get them out of the house had been promising to their plans, and once
they left, all but poor Steph had managed to sneak back into the manor, hidden in Tim's room
where they could see all the live feed cameras he'd installed last night.

With that, all they had to do was wait for Jason's part of the plan to start to take root.

Sure enough, it did not take long for a black metal suit to arrive through the large living room
window Damian had conveniently left open when he sat down to 'watch some news'. That
sent Steph and Dick into a fit of excited fist bumps and high fives.

From the suit emerged the one and only Brooklyn Stark, clad in casual clothes that did not
seem to fit her TV image at all. Who knew the Stark owned black turtle necks? Maybe those
two WERE perfect for one ano...wait....WAS THAT ONE OF THE DEMON'S
TURTLENECKS!?

Nah! It couldn't be. Damian was such a spoiled brat that he didn't let anyone touch him, much
less his very carefully washed and pampered clothes.

The girl stepped out of the suit with a smile, red hair falling around her shoulders, heels
resounding across the living room as she turned back to the metal suit.

"You called the repair man?" she teased.

Damian moved to stand beside her, helping her take out a bag of supplies inside the suit as he
motioned to the braces he'd taken from the Batcave, which he'd set up on the coffee table. At
least Damian valued his life enough to put a bedsheet over the antique item instead of risking
Alfred's wrath.

"My idiot brother did something to it during training" Damian said.

It took a few seconds for Jason to realize he was the 'idiot brother'. Jason had no clue Damian
actually acknowledged him as an actual sibling, that he had no clue how to process. The idiot
part made him angry through.

He'd graduated High School with straight C's!

He likely would've gotten even more defensive, especially because his siblings were already
laughing...but then he saw a very familiar object emerge from the metal suit.

"Its the Wayne baby!" Steph said, tripping over the couch to get close to the screen, everyone
following suit.

Jason was about to point out the Stark went to the same school and likely had the same
assignment (even if their previous spying on Damian weeks ago proved it might actually be
what they thought)...but Damian hadn't brought the baby this weekend, simply claiming he
didn't have to. Jason had assumed the school have the teens breaks before they could shoot
themselves in frustration.

But the baby was very familiar...it was even wearing the lavender baby clothes Barbara had
bought as a joke. The way Damian moved to hold the baby only confirmed it. Their
suspicions from their spying on the Batcave confirmed.

"I fucking knew it! It is a group assignment!" Dick said, almost tripping on the X-box on the
floor.

"Does that mean the baby is also Brooklyn's?" Tim asked innocently from his place seated on
the couch, computer on his lap.

Oh shit, they'd willingly housed a robot partially belonging to a Stark. The weight of the
crime didn't quite settle in Jason, not as he beheld Damian Fucking Wayne holding that mesh
of inner cables and plastic against his chest, the Stark clutching the familiar baby bag in hand.

The two teens settled in the living room, and not even two seconds had passed until Titus
came rushing out of the Grandfather clock, the secret entrance to the cave. Jason could only
recall a handful of times he'd seen Titus run that fast, and all of those times had resulted in
someone being very injured.

This time, Titus practically launched himself at the Stark...and not to attack. Damian merely
rolled his eyes at the sight of his deadly dog settling atop Brooklyn's fallen body, tail waging
in joy as she scratched his ears like he wasn't a dog sent from hell.

"Hello, beast" The Stark said fondly, pushing the dog back to settle across her jean covered
legs when Titus refused to move away, even by Damian's command. They all settled before
the coffee table, with Damian seated beside the girl, Titus comfortable on her lap.

It was Barbara that said, "Does anyone still find it weird to see Titus being friendly with
someone other than Damian?"

Everyone raised their hands without hesitation, keeping their eyes on the screen.

Not long after, another annoying monster came into the room, the reason for Jason's burned
leather jackets, for Tim's discarded laptops...the fire devil himself...Goliath.

Much like Titus, since his arrival, Goliath hated everyone that wasn't Damian, only this
monster showed said discontent by breathing fire. As if life wasn't weird enough already.
Luckily, Goliath tended to stay in Damian's room, enough so that it seemed like he didn't
exist most days.

Everyone tensed when Goliath beheld Brooklyn Stark, knowing full well what kind of
welcome a stranger would get. Jason was even surprised part of him considered rushing
downstairs to save the girl from a most unpleasant death...because Alfred would have to
clean up the barbecue remnants of course.

Only the Stark did not seem amused or scared. No, she just smiled as the Dragon Bat beat its
growing wings, catching him in her arms as he snuggled into her chest.

"Hello to you too" Brooklyn muttered to Goliath, then turned to Damian with a sly grin.

"Being in the home of my family enemy, how come I'm getting such a warm welcome?" she
teased, to which Damian bumped her shoulder with his own.

Shoulder contact...

Everyone in the room began jumping around (well except Cass and Tim, but they were frozen
in place).

"Did Damian just touch someone's shoulder! This is historic!" Dick said, grabbing a handful
of pillows to throw as he jumped around.

Did they all look like idiots?...yes. Was this something adults such as themselves should be
doing?....no. But this was big! Maybe Damian did have it in him to make this work!

Jason kept his eyes on the screen, seeing the Stark smile, only turning her gaze away from
Damian when Goliath (the little traitor) pawed at Brooklyn's chest, only without the claws
that had shredded Tim's socks.

Seemingly knowing what the monster wanted, the Stark closed her eyes, an odd gesture until
the hands holding Goliath to her chest began glowing...and soon flames emerged from them.

That's when Tim rushed to the screen, clearly eager to find out how the Stark had managed to
pull all those fire tricks recently, a new hobby of his.

"She's not wearing anything under her sleeves and the fire is too controlled to be emitted
from a source like a miniature blow torch...It's actually coming from her fingers" Tim said,
eyes wide.

Damian did not seem amused by the fire, he just told Goliath how spoiled he was, especially
since the fireplace in the living room was lit.

"He's probably the only being that actually likes my abilities" the Stark said, only for Damian
to reply without hesitation, "The second actually. I have never minded your fire"

The Stark chuckled, almost tipping back to the carpet.

"I know, but you don't have to sound so defensive about it! You're the only one who has never
minded the bad, you're the only reason I can control it half the time" she said.

Dick settled back on the couch, placing his legging covered legs underneath his enlarged
navy blue sweater like a three year old would. He asked, "I thought Tim said her file never
listed her as a mutant, thought all the fire stuff was propaganda or something SHIELD made
her do for public popularity?"

No one had a chance to agree or disagree as Damian said on screen, "You said Xavier
mentioned your progress has been going well. The continued use of your abilities is likely
making you more comfortable in sustaining that control, you need not thank me beloved"

Jason half-jokingly checked his pulse, making sure he wasn't dead. He wasn't.

There it was again, that beloved thing. Maybe Damian just didn't know what that meant?

"Has he EVER called another being anything other than an insult or their last name save for
Jon?" Jason asked, but it came out with a clear tone of disbelief.

Cass clung to the blanket around her form, but said seriously, "Not often, father is an
exception too, so are his mother and...so was his grandfather. They are just their family titles"

The Stark did not seem surprised by the name either! She just fucking smiled like she found
it endearing. Holy shit...

It was once the teens got to work, with Damian keeping the baby asleep in his arms as Brook
worked (slowly thanks to Titus and Goliath begging for her attention half the time) that Jason
decided it was time to deploy his plan.

As the expert on all things romance, Jason knew well that ambiance was everything when it
came to attraction. That is why he'd deployed Tim's help for a little something....special.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Steph asked Jason, and though he couldn't see his own face,
he could see the concern in his sister's face.

"I might've prepared a few things to...set the mood" he admitted.

Steph's concerned gaze was mirrored on Dick's and Barbara's face now. The image of pure
horror.

"They're teenagers!" Dick screamed.

"Not that kind of mood!" Jason explained, "Damian doesn't even know how to hold
someone's hand! Just wait and see!"

His siblings did not get rid of their concerned gazes after that, as if they expected him to mess
this up. He wouldn't...not today. Jason had not spent the last decade watching reality TV,
telenovelas, and K-dramas just to fail now. Sure, he had no idea what the last two said half
the time, but he'd learned!
The Stark fixed the braces quite fast, and thanks to Jason's minimal damage, it had all been
repaired in no time. It was then that a voice echoed across the large living room, a robotic
voice.

The startled teens stood up, weapons raised and ready for attack as the voice said, "It's 3:30,
time for Bruce's scheduled 'music that makes me feel like I'm in a fairytale' time. Here is your
favorite song Mr. Wayne"

Everyone burst out laughing as Dick shouted, "Jay! You did not!"

Oh but he had. If Jason had a chance to embarrass his father and 'help' the demon in one
sitting, he'd take it to extremes. Which is why he'd asked Tim to make a little smart home
device which he appropriately named Batlexa

In seconds, the most romantic melody known to man, Unchained Love, was blasting across
the hidden TV speakers in the living room. Jason watched with anticipation as both teens
slowly lowered their weapons, as Titus and Goliath deemed the noise as no threat.

Brooklyn asked, "Um, your big scary father likes to listen to this song in the middle of the
day?"

Damian was looking up at the speakers like they had personally offended him, then looked
around in confusion.

"I was not aware that was the case" Damian replied, almost bringing tears to Jason's eyes
from the effort of restraining his own laughs....but his job was not over yet. As expected,
whenever there was a possible danger, Damian would think it best to stay in the middle of the
room for a better defensive advantage, which is where he was standing now next to the
smirking Stark.

With a simple nod towards Tim, his brother announced, "Deploying the rocket launchers"

A series of loud and confused screams filled the room, but Jason's gaze was glue to the TV,
knowing the rocket launchers he'd strapped to the giant animatronic T-rex in the Batcave (a
trophy earned when Bats fought in Murray Hart's Dinosaur Island theme park) would be a
success.

The rocket launchers were theoretically enough to carry the heavy weight of the dinosaur, at
least enough to raise it up to the top of the roof of the Batcave right bellow where the teens
were standing.

According to Tim, the Batcave was strong enough to keeps its integrity, and the impact would
only cause a small tremor upstairs. Afterwards the prized t-rex would resume its place
besides the other trophies Batman treasured, like the original Mr. freeze gun (which Jay
definitely didn't use on hot summer days), the hood of that one vampire monk, Deathstroke's
sword, that one oversized card of the Joker (creepy), and his favorite....the giant penny from
the Penny Plunderers.
His least favorite object being his old Robin suit...maybe the impact from the T-rex would
knock it into one of the holes in the cave.

It was with great joy that Jason watched the ground suddenly tremble beneath the teens, as
Damian and Brook knocked into one another, falling over atop the couch. Just for good
measure, he had Batlexa announce there had been a mild earthquake...not that the kids were
paying attention as Damian looked down at the enemy.

Damian held up his body from crushing her own, hands beside her head, her own resting on
his chest....but she wasn't pushing him away.

"You are insane" Barbara whispered, wheeling her chair next to him so she could smack his
head.

The pain was well worth it as he witnessed Damian whisper something to the Stark,
something they could not hear. All they knew is that their idiot of a brother, 'Mr. I hate to be
touched' himself was leaning down to gently push the stray red locks from her face.

He was being so gentle and considerate, and the Stark was letting it all happen.

Then Damian leaned down more, Brooklyn raising up her body....oh the suspense was
maddening!!!! Everyone was on the edge of their seat. If Damian's first kiss happened today,
no one in this house would ever question Jason's genius!

Just as the two faces inched even closer, the sound of a door opening sent everyone to their
feet, scrambling for their discarded weapons and fighting the rapid beating of their hearts
until they noticed Alfred at the door, arms crossed.

Tim had the good sense to turn off the TV and the cameras so they wouldn't show on his
screen.

"Hey Alfred! What are you doing here so early?" Dick asked nervously, like a kid caught
with the cookie jar.

Alfred frowned, looking suspiciously at all of them as he mentioned, "I called Mistress Kori
to let her know I was stopping by the Titans tower with a meal, but she mentioned everyone
had left for a mission. When I came back, I heard shouting from your window Master Tim, so
I rushed here to make sure you were all ok"

Jason was tying not to panic, he could take on any enemy imaginable...but there was
something scary about Alfred that always made him nervous to lie.

"We were just watching a football game" Cassandra said calmly, silky black bob swishing
with the movement as she stood from the couch, stretching her arms.

Alfred seemed to buy into the lie, at least until Dick asked, "You rushed straight here? To this
room? Didn't go anywhere else in the house?"

Pennyworth had practically helped raise most of them, arguably knew them best....and Jason
was sure Alfred could tell they were lying as he replied, "I'm afraid my enormous concern for
your well being did not allow me to run a few laps around the house Master Dick.
Nevertheless, I will head down to make some snacks so you can watch you game. Master
Bruce informed me he will return soon, and he expects your help in unloading the new
furniture for the baby"

Dick and Jason tried and failed miserably to stop Alfred from going downstairs...if he saw the
Stark here...if Bruce were to find out because of it.

As the three made their way down the stairs, Jason tried to fake an injury, Dick attempted to
guide the old man to the gardens to witness something...but all their attempts failed as Alfred
kept reminding them he had to take care of the afternoon meal.

What was even worse... as they passed the front doors, Jason heard the rumble of a vehicle
parking, saw Bruce helping Selina out of the black sports car.

As soon as Bruce came in, seeing Jason and Dick hanging onto Alfred's arms, he quickly just
assumed they were being annoying and commanded them to stop.

Jason didn't take orders from him...but Bruce was making his way to the living room so
Selina could sit down.

In the blink of an eye, both he and Dick rushed to Bruce, now trying to pull back his large
figure to no avail, begging him to let them help him with the baby furniture.

"No, I'm setting down Selina first" Bruce said, rolling his eyes at his wife who just watched
all this with a devilish cat smirk.

The others rushed down then (expect for Babs, and Cass who likely stayed to keep her
company), the others quickly saw hat was happening and rushed to cling to Bruce, also trying
to pul him away from the living room doors.

It was useless.

Bruce burst into the room, yelling at them until he stoped dead in his tracks at the sight
before them. Jason was still debating whether he would save the Stark from Bruce's attacks of
if he would feign ignorance as he looked past the Batman's arm.

His jaw almost dropped at the sight.

Damian was seated on the couch, metal tool in hand with Titus and Goliath by his side. He
looked up at them with bored eyes and merely said, "I fixed the braces, stop being useless
idiots and get this back to Barbara. I'm going back to my room"

Jason didn't even have a second to process it all as Damian stood with his guardians in tow,
brushing past Bruce and all the siblings around his body, past Selina and Alfred, as he walked
leisurely up the stairs.

Bruce's voice snapped his out of his confusion.

"So this is what you didn't want me to see? Barbara's brace needed fixing?"
 Jason was quick to nod, even quicker to fetch the thing, silently asking his brothers and
sisters to search for the Stark around the living room as he distracted Bruce.

"Yes! Nothing big, just a hard swing on my part" Jason said.

Selina settled down on the couch, not at all minding the casual walking of the others around
the room as she said tiredly, "Well, at least its fixed. Now I don't know about you guys, but
my body is killing my feet and I'm hungry for two, so can we get a move on getting that
brace back to Barbara and all the baby stuff inside so we can eat?"

Jason snuck a glance at his spread out siblings as they all shook their heads subtly. The Stark
was gone.

Damian must've heard the screaming outside and she bailed. Close....Jason was so close to
victory!!!!

As he was forced to haul boxed and boxes of supplies, Jason cursed the universe... and
Damian because he refused to come down to help.

Dick's hushed words to the group later in the day were comforting though, "Mission failed.
We'll get them next time"

Next time. Because they would continue to try and help the demon...what had life become?

Still, Jason sat beside Damian that day during dinner, couldn't help but whisper, "Did you feel
that earthquake earlier, we just got home when suddenly the ground was going crazy right?"

Damian frowned, keeping his gaze on his Za'atar sandwich.

"Earthquakes are a mild threat at best. Grow up"

Oh no, little demon. If Jason had a say in it, it would be him who would grow up and one day
manage to achieve his fist kiss. Damian was such an ungrateful bitch...

Chapter End Notes

I'm not sure why, but I've always imagined the Batcave in this story as the comic version
of it rather than those shown in the movies. Dark but also incredibly large, built into the
cave itself. There is nothing wrong with either version, but to me, it's important to show
how much time has passed for the family. To show the expanse of the cave wit trinkets
of missions past.

I'm even willing to bet Bruce keeps vintage Batmobiles the way Tony Stark has luxury
cars. Just saying.
 Secrets Unwinding
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Brooklyn POV-

This was bad, and not in the 'I'm out of milk' kind of bad...but much worse.

Brook had been enjoying lunch with her friends, all of them celebrating the fact that their
robot children had not joined them at lunch for once since they were getting some inspections
made.

It was peaceful to just eat and talk once more without a fake infant there. Brook had even
gotten a small visit from her brother Harley when he asked if he could stay in her apartment a
few weeks from now because he'd be handing out with friends.

It felt nice to be of help to her brother, so she had agreed, and not long after the words had
left her mouth had the screens in the cafeteria shown a most troubling sight.

There were about a dozen men and women in masks on the streets of Queens, each with a
weapon, all containing a familiar glow. They were shooting at parked cars as if in a display of
power. Each car they hit was reduced to nothing but shambles.

There were so many of them, too many civilians trying to flee, letting the villains in Batman
masks with large red painted smiles walk calmly in the middle of the road towards the main
bank in the city.

Brook and Damian snuck a glance at one another, trying to figure out without words how
many people from their team they'd need for this assignment. This attack had been planned
well, the Avengers had gone across the country to Capitol Hill to discuss the changes and
non-negotiable aspects of the 'new' Sokovia Accords. Since ALL of Brook's family had been
involved in the accords, they'd all had to make the trip.

If what Tanya had said this morning was correct, the Queen's police force was having a
fundraiser twenty minutes out from the location of the criminals. Even if they cleared
traffic...

They had to put a stop to it, or it might be too late to save people if those criminals got it into
their heads than destroying people was more fun than cars.

Damian was already seething at his father's symbol being mocked, but to everyone else he
looked calm, bored even. Brook knew the truth though, so she slipped her hand onto his own
under the table, letting his fingers wind through her own.

Their quest to figure out just who would go on this mission was solved for them when two
dozen more masked individuals showed up. They hadn't fought off this many opponents since
the day at the Bermuda Triangle...

Like that, it was settled. They would all go.

Brooklyn quickly asked Yelena to accompany her to the bathroom to fix her lipstick, while
Ned asked Jon and Peter if they could take some dropped off materials from his mom to the
engineering classroom.

Damian kept his eyes away from the screens as he said, "Those two are weak, I'll make sure
no one breaks their weak back"

Harry chuckled darkly, leaning forward on the table as he said to the Wayne, "Think you're so
strong and mighty? I'm the one who's actually on the football team, I can go help"

Shit.

"Let Damian go help" Brooklyn said, shooting a glare at Damian as she added, "This idiot is
spoiled to the bone, let him work up some sweat as punishment for trying to trip me
yesterday"

Harry smiled, settling back on MJ's shoulder while she read, a feral smile on his face.

"You're right, let the Wayne be the servant today" Harry said, which made Ned, Peter, and
Jon flinch. Before Damian could pick a fight, Jon grabbed his friend by the shoulder and
hauled him out of the cafeteria with Brook, Yelena, and Peter in tow.

It was the same drill as usual. Grab suits. Run to the hidden alcove in the back of the school
to change. Rush to danger. Assess the problem from above, letting Peter, Brook, and Damian
bounce off ideas on what to do.

Today, the plan was quite simple, even if the execution was less so.

There were too many criminals, the streets were not empty of civilians, and they had arrived
after the police again, meaning their perimeter and different approach to the criminals would
be an obstacle.

Before the thirty or so masked criminals could get to the pristine bank, the Avenger's Dynasty
had already split up into position. Brook still thought this was a decent plan, even when Ned
was whispering into their com devices that they were gonna die.

It was good that he was worried, after all, being worried was a survival instinct right about
now.

Still, Brooklyn had faith in her team and in their ability to work together. Now that Yelena
was getting used to it and everyone around them, it certainly made things easier. Maybe the
talk they'd had at the Briar Rose cafe had helped somehow.

Either way, the plan had gone perfectly. They cornered the criminals, let Peter and Jon deal
with capturing the weapons while Yelena and Brook kept the civilians and police at bay.
Damian managed to take on quite a few on the unarmed individuals, but Brook moved to
help him at some point.

It was not a difficult mission, but it was exhausting....especially when two criminal groups
with alien weapons (seemingly not related to the Joker's goons) showed up.

"Well, we're in the middle of a three-sided alien/criminal war...which would be an awesome

video game, but I'm really not interested in playing for real. I like my reset buttons" Jon had
said on their way back.

Brook couldn't have agreed more. That had been a lot more work that she'd been used to.

No one had been injured severely at least...

They had returned to their little hidden alcove in school exhausted. In fact, Brooklyn was
almost ready to collapse after days of stoping these guys with little sleep thanks to Rosa. She
still had a test to take in a few minutes! They were lucky they made it fifteen minutes before
lunch ended.

That was probably why she and neither of her friends noticed the door into the building
opening. They should've kept their com devices on, should've had a faster reaction time as the
door swung open and three people stepped outside holding tennis rackets to place in the bins
where Brook had been about to get changed behind.

This was the only way to the sports storage area after all.

Everyone froze, hands stopping where the teens were busy taking off their suits as they
beheld a screaming Tanya with MJ and Harry by her side.

Brook felt horror creep down her spine as their three friends got a look at the heroes of
Queens, masks down to reveal their friends.

No one said a thing for a while, even as the rackets dropped.

Then Tanya muttered, "Maybe I'm too sleep deprived because I think my friends have a weird
cosplay obsession because there is no way you guys are the Dynasty right?"

"You-you guys are..but how! Brook you're a mutant!?" Harry screamed, falling down against
the wall as he looked at the costumes then at the faces of those they belonged to.

Sheepishly, Brook pulled the sleeves of her golden suit back on and said, "Not exactly, but
that's what you're focusing on right now Harry?!"

Harry was interrupted by MJ stepping forward, pointing a finger at Spider-man as if she

didn't quite believe it, saying "Peter...you're Spider-man! Thats not possible, we saw you and
him that day at the same time"

For once in her life, MJ actually looking confused by something....

Damian let go of his katanas, holding his domino mask in hand as he admitted defeatedly,
"That was me. I pretended to be him so you would stop your suspicions, Jones"

MJ nodded, and nodded, and nodded, sitting down on the steps before the door as she seemed
to be processing it all.

Brook had no idea what to say, what excuse to blurt out...even if it seemed too late for that.

Yelena still had enough sense to move past a frozen Tanya above the steps, pushing the door
close so no one else would see. That movement seemed to spark something in Tanya, because
she said, "That means you guys saved my dad...and Queens a bunch of times, but you were
the ones that saved my dad"

Brooklyn could only nod, admitting she was Firestar as the others admitted to their own
identities. They also had to admit that Brook and Damian were no longer enemies, that they
were now in a team together willingly, much to Harry's shock. They had to admit to Ned's
involvement too.

Still, they only had so long before they had to go back to class...

As they three let the heroes change back into normal clothes behind the large trash bins, it
was Harry that said, "You know, I always thought Damian was a selfish bastard too full of
himself. That if his ego were any bigger, it would have moons orbiting around him. I though
that if a villain ever attacked the school, He'd be the one push someone to take the hit"

Brook kept her gaze on the floor as she changed, but she heard Damian shout back beside her
"How dare you-"

Harry cut him off, "I hate to say this more than you will ever know, but I guess there is more
to you that I was willing to see, Wayne. I'm willing to make a truce the way you did with
Brook, you know, since I'm going to help now"

Brook heard everyone stop their shuffling of clothes.

"What do you mean help?" Yelena asked from Brook's other side.

Jon was quick to follow with, "What? You guys want to help? You can't!"

Brooklyn had been afraid they'd want to stop being friends after being kept in the dark, that
they might be angry for weeks or months. Brook had been afraid she'd just lost three friends...

Tanya screamed back, "What do you mean? Can we not help? Ned does!"

Tanya wanted to help too!?

Brook pushed back her relief, thinking about this as logically as possible as she said, "Yes,
but this isn't something to take lightly, especially now that we are 'official heroes' taking on
harder tasks. There is some messed ups tuff going on and-"
Tanya could be heard pacing as she said, "I don't think he means WE should fight. Harry can
take a tackle from guys twice his size, but he can't touch his own toes. MJ and I are equally as
useless in fighting, but maybe we can help in other ways"

"How exactly?"Peter asked shyly, clearly still trying to get dressed.

"MJ is smart as hell" Tanya replied, "she knows Queens better than any of us, and she can
research a topic in seconds if the information isn't already in her head. A hero group needs a
researcher right? I for one can help when it comes to the police. My dad recently replaced his
police radio and didn't notice when I took the old one. I can tell you when there is trouble in
the city even before the news finds out. I saw you all struggling to keep the police safe
because they alway get there before you"

Well, she wasn't wrong. Brook had kept an eye on all the police force, but mostly Tanya's dad
and Cassie's as well.

"You kept a police radio, why?" Harry asked, and though Brook couldn't see him yet, she
knew he'd stopped his own pacing and mumblings about Peter actually being Spider-man,
something about not knowing his own childhood friend after all.

Tanya huffed out, "Because I'm curious! Plus, if you must know, I plan on being a cop like
my dad in the future. It was essential"

Everyone came out behind the trashcans then, dressed in their civilian clothes. Where Peter
and Jon still looked guilty, Brook, Damian, and Yelena were quietly assessing the offer. Not
once did Brook expect they'd want to help. That so shortly after finding out their secret the
three would be willing to join with such noble intentions.

Was this a meaning of friendship? Sticking together no matter what?

Apparently so, because as soon as they emerged, Harry rushed to hug Peter. MJ and Tanya
pulling Brook and Yelena into one of their own. Brook did not miss the nod Harry shot
towards Damian either.

It was the Osborn heir who said, "Tanya is right. Besides, I can help too! Dad has put more
money and resources into finding the Joker because of what happened at the gala he hosted. I
have access to that data, I can help you find him. That is what you want right?"

He wasn't wrong.

Dad was always going on about how having more people trying to do some good in the world
was a good thing. Perhaps that would apply here as well.

As the bell rang, the teens had no choice but to go back indoors late, waiting until the halls
were empty to go back inside with suits in hand. They'd gotten their bags and books from
Ned, who had waited in the cafeteria for them despite the threat of being late to class.

As a group, they all made their way to the main hall, stopping where they'd all have to go
separate ways. MJ, Harry, and Tanya were waiting for a response, and in the end everyone's
gazes from the team turned to Brook and Damian. It was their call.

Brook knew what they said was true, they could help, and they'd proven trustworthy friends
for months. They already knew mostly everything, and it might be less dangerous for them to
stick to the team now. That's what she tried to convey with Damian as their eyes met.

He still looked unsure, but seemed to trust her wisdom as he nodded in resignation.

As new members began celebrating their victory, a teacher came around the corner, yelling
for their hall passes. Lest to say, they all ran out of there, spreading out to their next classes
like criminals running from the cops.

Brook had pondered on her decision thought Chemistry and Spanish, wondering if they had
just made the team stronger or just put innocent civilians in danger...

****

Days later, such a decision to have others join the group had proven to be fantastic.

They were a faster, more efficient team than before.

It did not go unnoticed by others, because the team was getting so much praise from the
media even if they didn't know there were others working in the shadows to help. Brooklyn
also noticed it helped to have them around not just for missions, but it made them all closer
friends, certainly helped create distractions or alibis during school hours.

Maybe dad was right all along when he said a team was like a family.

It certainly felt like that now.

Surprisingly, none of her friends had freaked out when she mentioned the nature of her fire
abilities when Harry asked. They hadn't run away when she, Damian, and Yelena mentioned
being assassins in their youth (and in Yelena's case, her teens). They had seemed a little
shocked that Bruce Wayne was Batman, but that shock mostly came from Harry having a
hard time believing a family he hated were a bunch of vigilantes. Not one of their three new
members stared in shock when Jon explained his parentage, or when Peter mentioned the
nature of his abilities.

To Harry, Tanya, and MJ, they were still friends.

In fact, Tanya spent quite some time expressing her admiration for their bravery.

"There are so many people out there that gave crazy abilities, but you guys are choosing to do
some good with it all. That takes guts...and a kind heart" Tanya had said.

Brook held onto those words sometimes, a reminder that Ivan was wrong. It usually helped,
and when it didn't, Damian was always there to reassure her everything was fine.

So they went a week stopping crime with their new friends and resources with great success,
enough so that dad had called from Monaco to congratulate her heavily on the great work.
They'd stopped 12 crimes.

68 criminals.

Recovered 108 weapons, 3 of which had never been seen before.

Plus, they managed to do so without any hiccup whatsoever.

As the snow began to fall once more, the team decided to spend their afternoon relaxing after
such a heavy week. Yelena had been allowed to stay past her curfew because of all the
missions' success, which meant the group of friends could spend the day as they wished
without fear of a SHIELD escort coming to take one of them away.

They'd considered going around town, but with three public figures in their midst, it seemed
like asking for trouble. If people saw Harry and Brook were around Damian, things might get
a little hard to explain. No one had noticed a difference in behaviors at school yet, so they
decided to go to the one place no one would find them.

The Briar Rose Cafe.

Jon had claimed it to be their new secret base of operations, like their Batcave or their Mount
Justice. Tanya had loved the idea, claiming that the owner rarely went inside there anymore,
and when she had a little talk with the kind old woman, the cheerleader was handed the keys
to do with the room as they pleased.

They also had access to the underground parking lot the old woman never used, an additional
form of secrecy for them.

"She thinks we're turning it into a little book club" Tanya mentioned, which lit up MJ's eyes
until she realized that would not be the use of the room at all.

Still, she and MJ had worked hard to make the place fit their needs by placing all the tables in
the center, adding the hidden chalkboards as well as an old projector Ned had stashed in his
room.

Damian had brought some spare weapons from his home, and Tanya had set up all the police
equipment she had.

With his outrageous monthly allowance, Harry had let Ned and Yelena go buy security
measures for the place, anything they deemed worthy to keep the place from being
discovered without their knowing.

With her own salary from SHIELD, Brooklyn added a few computer screens for Ned's tech
support, as well as enough maps of the city to make their jobs easier.

MJ had filled the shelves once full of alcohol with books she thought might be important,
things they could reference in time of need. She'd also taken the liberty of remembering they
all still had infants to take care of, so for the time being, spare supplies were there for when
needed.
Brooklyn had actually thought ahead and set up a little area with medical supplies just in
case, something that seemed to remind the new three members that heroes did get hurt
sometimes. It certainly made MJ worried, enough so that she always yelled their ears off
when they came back from a mission with mild scratches and bruises.

Once Pete and Ned had plugged everything in and the place came to life, Brooklyn had to
say, Tanya's instance in decorations truly made the place feel more official. She's used the rest
of Brook's budget to add couches, side tables, a wardrobe with spare clothes, beautiful lights
with a blue glow, and even turned the bar into a snack area that always had coffee at the
ready.

Then there was the glowing neon sign by the far wall, lit in a yellow hew that said;

DYNASTY

It was GIL (who Brook had set up instead of Peter's A.I. Friday in case of exposure by dad)
that welcomed them into the room for the first time since it's completion.

"Welcome Avengers Dynasty"

Harry whooped in excitement, rushing into the room full of dark walls and hard wood floors,
a space big enough to accommodate them all with their own separate desks. It certainly beat
having to do all this in Brook's spare office in the apartment like they had all week.

It was a great upgrade, and it only made it feel like they were actually an official team.

As everyone moved to their own setups with babies in hand, Brooklyn lingered by the
entrance with Damian as the secret bookcase closed behind them unaware to those lounging
in the cafe.

Though a huge secret was now shared between their friends, the two teens still had one of
their own. Their 'something more'. Both had decided via walkie-talkie last night that even
through they had no reason to expect betrayal from any of their friends, it might be best to
keep it quiet for now. Keep it as something of their own, something that was theirs.

Still, Damian whispered, "I originally thought most of them would be useless, especially
Osborn. But perhaps this team thing is not so bad"

She smiled, placing her olive green coat on the nearby rack as she whispered back, "We're not
alone in this mess anymore, Dami. I'm glad you're warming up to it"

Damian's brows furrowed as he subtly helped Brook take of her scarf while she hung his ink
colored coat.

"I still despise hearing Osborn's voice in the coms. Can we block him?" he said, turning his
gaze were Harry was clapping Peter on the back, motioning to a little neon Spider-man sign
he'd hug by Peter's desk.

Brook couldn't help but shake her head at the sigh of a shy Peter, especially as MJ moved to
stand beside him. Now that there was no secret between them, the two seemed to be talking a
lot more, getting along better. Misunderstandings were cleared up, their friendship stronger
than ever.

The Stark couldn't help but be happy for her friends, hopefully that thing between those two
would blossom into something that would make them happy.

After a quick bite of the food they had picked up on the way, the team decided to get to work.
Just because there wasn't any crime to deal with did not mean they couldn't get ahead of it
trying to solve the bigger picture.

For the next few hours, Jon blasted pop music across the room as Brook, Damian, and Harry
began mapping the Joker's activity Mr. Osborn had not reported to the Avengers or the police
yet.

The Wayne-Osborn usual spat of offhanded insults was at a minimum as they placed the
information on the large table in the middle of the room. That in itself was a small relief.

Going through police records, Tanya was placing pins on the maps in the room to indicate all
police routes and strongholds. It might help them in the future after all.

On the other side of the room, MJ was lounging on the couch by her corner of bookshelves,
busying herself in conducting research on abandoned buildings and hidden places from the
prohibition just like this one. If the Joker was deploying so many forces here, there had to be
a hideout SHIELD and the police hadn't found.

MJ had already guessed that the Joker was not focusing his attacks here because he wanted
Robin dead. Or at least not fully. Queens was a great place to import and export resources. Its
ports weren't as heavily regulated as Manhattan, certainly not as 'Wayne secured' as in
Gotham.

It was useful information, enough that they'd been able to bust two weapon's deals by the
ports this week. Tanya had even given an anonymous tip to the police so new security could
be placed there.

Jon and Yelena were at Ned's desk now, helping him regulate the skies trade in case weapons
were coming in from there despite SHIELD's efforts. Jon had been keeping an eye on planes
and their destinations lately. If something did not match airport records, they could look into
it.

By five in the afternoon, everyone decided to take a much needed break. Tanya and Brook
had brought in milkshakes from the cafe, which proved to be a great way to quench their
hunger.

Jon had joked that they should let the babies have a 'play date' while they ate, so they set up
the robots on the floor in a circle so they could 'bond' as Jon had suggested.

"This looks like something out of a cult" Tanya said, staring down at the plastic babies staring
at one another blankly.
Maybe she had a point.

"I think its good for them to bond while their parents work hard to fight crime" Harry said,
not minding the spilled strawberry milkshake on his sweater as he added, "Its a good example
to follow"

Never mind that they were breaking laws listening in on police radio and browsing through
their documents. That they were using SHIELD and Oscorp data without permission.

Either way, they all had a laugh about it, that was until Damian was convinced Jon's and
Yelena's little boy was looking at Rosa too much (only because it was placed that way and
couldn't look anywhere else).

Despite the taunting comments from Jon and Harry that Damian was acting like an
overprotective father, he still said, "Rosa. Don't let Seyg stare at you like that. Fight back"

Brook couldn't keep her smile at bay, it was too funny considering they were just dolls that
couldn't actually understand...that was until Damian's fist slammed on the table at the taunts
from the boys, which caused a reverberation traveling all the way to the floor, knocking over
the closest doll....Rosa.

The Stark watched as Rosa toppled down, but not before taking the 'kryptonian' baby down
with her.

Everyone burst out of their chairs, some falling on the ground in laugher at the sight. Just
now, It looked like Rosa had pinned down the baby the way Dami and Brook often advised as
self defense in their bedtime stories.

While everyone laughed their heads off and Jon wailed in shock, Brook could've sworn she
heard Damian whisper, "Good job, child"

After all babies were fed and put to bed, the team decided a few more hours of work couldn't
hurt, so they set out to analyze all the recent attacks from both the Joker and criminal groups
with alien weapons.

There was no pattern to the locations, none any of them could find as they bounced ideas
around the table...other than....

Brooklyn stood from her chair at one end of the table, pointing that the large holographic map
before her as she pointed out, "All of these recent crimes, they took places in large and
crowded streets. I'm willing to bet they weren't so much about wanting money as they were
about making a scene"

Ivan had said whoever was in charge was making fools out of them. It wasn't the first attack
that mattered, It's the second move that did. The second shot, the second attack.

"She's right" Damian said, standing from his spot at the other end of the table, "They have
never successfully stolen anything, and when we show up, the criminals either surrendered or
tried to kill us instead of fulfilling their goal"
No one bothered to argue, they just got to work in setting up eyes around the busier streets
and businesses in the city. Maybe then they could find where these people were coming from
that way and predict other attacks.

As the team got ready to call it a day, they all gathered their stuff and babies, all moving
slowly and exhaustedly at that point. Then, Jon did something that made all their jaws drop,
including Brook's own.

The Kryptonian sleepily moved around the table to kiss Yelena...on the mouth.

They all stood there, frozen around the table. Even Damian's usually bland expression slipped
to show his true shock.

When Jon moved away from Yelena's lips, the girl was wide eyed, blinking slowly until Jon's
eyes snapped open in panic, like he was fully awake now. He then casually patted her on the
shoulder and said, "Yes, goodnight Lena. Good work today"

In seconds, Jon had used his super speed to stand before Tanya, shrugging comically as he
leaned down to give her a peck on the lips. The he patted her head.

Tanya let out a shocked squeak at the action, especially when all Jon said was, "Good night
Tany"

"Um, I have a pomp rocking girlfriend named Raven remember?! The gorgeous demon that
could beat you kryptonian ass?" Tanya said, but it seemed to slip past the boy with super
hearing.

Brooklyn was still frozen in shock as he quickly moved towards MJ, cradling her curly locks
before leaning down to place his lips against her own much to Peter's disbelief.

MJ only raised a brow at the kiss, arms crossed as Jon patted the book in her hand and left
her side with a simple, "MJ, good to see ya. Nice work today"

Brooklyn was still frozen when Jon appeared before her, smile wide as he greeted her with
two finger guns. A part of her was wondering if Jon was feeling sick when he leaned down
and his lips met her own.

His kiss was quick like the others, but to Brook, it felt wrong. Not in the sense that Jon was a
bad person (though he was acting oddly) but it just wasn't right.

After the kiss, Jon said, "Brook, my good friend! Good night!"

As Jon finished gathering Seyg, his backpack and baby bag, he passed by Harry's side of the
table, at which point the Osborn immediately ducked away in case Jon decided to bid him
goodbye in such a...unique way...

It was just as Jon was getting ready to leave with a simple wave, that Brook noticed Damian
had moved to her side, looking ready to go rip Jon apart. Thats when she realized...someone
just kissed her in front of Dami...
He was out for blood now. Certainly looked like it.

Just as he took a step forward, Brooklyn quickly grabbed onto his arm to stop him, shooting
him a confused stare that pinned Damian in place. It was once the secret bookcase door
closed that Tanya asked, "Is that some sort of kryptonian tradition?"

Everyone turned to Damian, who had schooled his stoic mask back into place as he replied,
"There is no such thing"

No one had an answer for what had just occurred, they barely even registered Yelena's
goodbyes as she made to leave as well. It was as the rest of the team made to leave with
unanswered questions that Damian leaned close to Brook to whisper, "I'm going to kill him"

Brook pushed back her own shock to reason, "You can't, he's your friend"

Damian pick up his backpack, raising his voice slightly to say, "I can and I will, he just kissed
my beloved right in front of me"

She was still trying to register the fact that a guy that wasn't Damian kissed her, but still had
enough sense to keep Jon alive to argue gently, "Granted, he kissed everyone. Plus, he doesn't
know we're together"

"Still" Damian huffed, trying to sound uncaring and tough as he added, "Did you find it
enjoyable? His osculating..."

Brooklyn tried not to laugh, but she moved her gaze around the room, quickly making sure
no one was looking they way (which they weren't because they were looking at the door
where Jon had disappeared into) as she whispered back in all honestly, "The only osculating I
appreciate and fancy is yours, Dami"

It was almost comical watching Damian nod to himself, puffing out his chest in pride as he
whispered, "Good. Because if Jon ever does that again, I'll impale him with a kryptonite knife
right in the heart"

Brook laughed at the joke, until she realized Damian wasn't laughing back.

"You actually have that?" she asked, eyes wide.

Damian shrugged, "Maybe"

As Brooklyn moved to pick up Rosa, she shot him a private smile because jealous Damian
truly was a sight to behold.

In truth...being kissed by someone other than Damian..it just felt like lips agains lips. Not the
rush of emotions and happiness, the comfort and ease of when Damian did it.

She truly had felt nothing...which made Brook realize that what she and Damian had was not
just something she could feel with anyone else. It wasn't just that Brook fell for the first guy
who kissed her...there truly was much more than just physical attraction as she had wagered.
It was an unforeseen confirmation, but one nonetheless.

MJ finally snapped out of her confused trance and asked, "Well, if no one else is going to be a
weirdo and kiss everyone on their way out, I'm leaving"

Peter quickly followed after her, baby in hand as he offered to walk her home.

Harry had switched his shock with amusement as he cheered for Jon's boldness on his way
out the door, making a show of pretending to lean close to Brook to 'kiss her goodbye', that
was until Damian's glare made Harry rush to the door, Tanya and Ned laughing behind him.

Once inside Roscoe, Damian muttered "Perhaps Jon finally lost his mind" as he drove down
the now familiar roads of Queens with people milling about peacefully around them.

Brook was still confused, even more so by Yelena's behavior of returning the kiss...which
Brooklyn had just realized had occurred. She couldn't help but wonder if there was something
going on between those two?

*****

Jon POV-

He fucked up....

He and Yelena had been 'officially dating' for a total of three days and he already almost gave
them away.

He promised to keep it a secret until Yelena was ready, and he already almost messed it up!

Jon had to wait later in the day, when he and Yelena were alone during patrols to explain
himself. They were both seated on the rooftop of a skyscraper, both clad in their hero suits as
he explained he'd just been tired, completely out of it that he forgot they weren't alone.

At least Yelena wasn't mad..she thought it was a brilliant cover to his mistake.

The sight of her up on that roof with him, her blonde hair twirling with the wind, it only
reminded Jon of how this relationship between the two had started. Glad it was still a thing
despite today.

They had been in a roof similar to this one on patrols a few nights ago. Jon had been telling
Yelena about his childhood, about the day he got his dog Krypto from aunt Kara.

She'd looked upset that day, staring down at the city with a frown that wouldn't go away.
When he'd begged her to let him help with whatever was wrong, he expected Yelena to say
the same thing she always did.

"I can do it on my own"

Instead, she had asked to tell him something. Jon had quickly agreed, loving to learn new
things about his favorite person.
His smile had dimmed as Yelena's confession went on. Up on that rooftop, with the the sun
setting before them, she told him of the Red Room Jon had only ever really heard about from
Brooklyn.

Yelena spoke of the years of torture, the people she killed, and the difficulty that was just
getting to live another day back then. She'd kept her gaze away from his as she explained
what kind of mentor that Ivan guy in prison was like. Cold, calculating, ruthless.

When Brooklyn had 'died' in the Red Room's eyes, it had only gotten worse.

Jon was close to tears as Yelena explained her graduation ceremony. She had to kill and kill
for hours, withstand torture and questionings. Worst of all, she had a procedure done, one in
which Yelena explained her reproductive organs were disposed of.

It had made Jon feel like an idiot for trying to encourage Yelena to spend more time with
their assigned child. How hard must it have been for her to be reminded of that past with just
one look at the robot?

Jon had no idea how to make it all better, couldn't really imagine half of what she had
confessed. Compared to his happy life, Yelena's was full of hardship and unimaginable pain.

He didn't want her to suffer though.

And though he had no clue what to say or do to explain just how sorry he was of all that had
happened, how angry he was at the people who had done that to her...he couldn't help but
notice she was shaking. It was very cold being so high up after all.

So he'd unclasped his red cape, wrapped it around her white suit, then asked her how he
could help, that even if it took years or decades, Jon would do everything in his power for
Yelena to feel safe, cared for, and protected. He'd fight for those rare smiles, work to bring
out those laughs from her.

No one deserved what Yelena had survived, not her, not Brook, not anyone.

Even with growing powers that would rival those of his dad, Jon had never felt so weak and
helpless as in that moment.

But then Yelena had wrapped the cape around her body, smiling at it.

She'd said, "You're already helping, Jon. Everyone is. My sestra was right, now we both have
families and a bright purpose, we have hope for a future of our choosing. It is I who haven't
been good to you. Every time we talked, if I sensed you were getting too close to me or I was
getting close to revealing something about my past, I would push away. You were just trying
to help"

Yelena had looked out into the horizon, green eyes bright and rosy lipped smile growing as
she'd added, "But I do trust you, not just with my secrets but also with my life. You don't
understand it, but that means a lot for an assassin...you mean a lot to me, and I'm done
pushing you away"
She had looked so beautiful that day, yet Yelena thought she was nothing. He hadn't been
thinking as he leaned forward to cup her cheeks and gently coaxed them into their first kiss.

The first few seconds were terrifying. Maybe he'd crossed a line, read her words wrong.
Yelena could easily shove her off the edge and out of embarrassment, he might've just let
himself fall. He'd been worried when her lips were still against his... and then she kissed him
back.

That had been the first of two kisses they'd shared away from any prying eyes (and one in
front of everyone now). Neither was sure what the others would think, and until Yelena was
comfortable, they decided to keep what they had a secret. That had meant secret smiles in the
school halls, hugs up on rooftops during patrols...just little things to show Yelena she was
cared for.

They were still afraid Brooklyn would disapprove. She meant a lot to Yelena, and if she
thought them dating was bad for the team, they'd have to stop.

Even if it killed him not to tell his family, he didn't tell a soul. Well...grandma found out
almost instantly by his smile that day he'd come back from patrols to visit. She didn't have
superpowers, but she was so smart!

At least things were still good between him and Yelena. In fact, he was sure she would tease
him about what had happened until the day he died.

After an hour (and making sure Yelena made it to her rendezvous point with Agent Claire
alright for the drive back home), Jon made his usual stop at Damian's to report back on all
he'd seen on patrols.

Just petty crimes today though, nothing big.

As he flew into Damian's room by the time the moon was high in the sky, he immediately
noticed his friend seemed more tense than usual. Damian was in bed, glaring at Jon,
vibranium knife in hand.

"Dude, are you ok?" Jon asked, wondering which of his family members pissed him off
today.

Jon had never been very good at reading Damian's emotions. When they had first met, Jon
assumed that if he bothered the young assassin with enough smiles and compliments, his hard
mask would crack. Now a days he knew there was no changing Damian. He was the way he
was and that was fine.

It just made it hard to figure out just how he was feeling.

Damian just huffed annoyedly, which made Titus and Goliath begin to growl in Jon's
direction.

He was confused for a second, wondering why all the anger was turned on him...and...ah
shit...HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT.
Jon felt his knees buckle in fear.

He'd been so focused on making sure Yelena wasn't mad about what happened that he
completely glossed over the fact that HE'D KISSED DAMIAN'S CRUSH!!!!!!!!

OH NO HE'D KISSED BROOKLYN......ON THE LIPS....IN FRONT OF DAMIAN....

Jon debated the chances of flying out the window before Titus could tackle him.

Unfortunately, it was too late.

Faster than he'd ever seen Damian move, the teen stood right before Jon, knife in
hand....saying nothing. Though Jon could run eighteen miles in minutes and not break a
sweat, he sure was sweating now.

"Look, I know you're mad I kissed you crush! I'm so sorry! I was just really tired and totally
did not mean it! I already apologized to the girls! I took a beating from MJ and Tanya when
they saw me outside the cafe! Please stop giving me those eyes! If you want to kill me do it
now" Jon screamed, getting ready for something painful that never came.

Finally, Damian spoke, but his voice was cold as he said, "I won't kill you"

"You won't?" Jon asked, but received no answer as they were both called down for dinner by
Alfred.

Jon had to sit there next to Damian during the whole meal, feeling his friend's glare, flinching
whenever he moved to pick up a knife or used a fork.

When they finally made it back to his room, Jon couldn't take it anymore. He sat next to
Damian on the bed and wailed, "Look I'm really sorry! I swear I didn't mean to do it but if
killing me makes it better then I'll let you do it just stop staring at me like that!"

Damian had simply shrugged, discarding of the weapons he always kept hidden under his
clothes. He placed them neatly on the large dresser, then said, "Your panic and stress from
throughout the meal was your punishment"

Jon had to blink a few times as he realized Damian's glaring had been intentional, a way to
keep him in a state of panic when he hadn't been planning on doing a thing.

"You...you sneaky little snake!" Jon said, standing to point an accusatory finger at his friend.

Damian smirked for a few seconds, then his eyes got serious again as he warned, "Keep your
brain in check next time. I see you still harbor emotions for Yelena, just keep your lips away
from everyone else. Its only honorable"

Right, as if he didn't have a crush of Brooklyn Stark but had no idea he was being jealous!

But fine, if it meant all was good between them, he could most certainly swear what he'd
already sworn in his mind. In fact, he'd have to apologize to Brooklyn as well!
 "Of course! You have my word!"

Damian shrugged, and without a word, he moved towards the adjacent bathroom without so
much as a grunt of goodbye.

Jon thought he lived to see another day, a miracle really...until Titus bit his butt on the way
out as if in vengeance for his master. It hadn't caused permanent damage, nothing could
really, but it still hurt a lot! As Jon screamed in pain, he noticed Damian was staring down
from atop the stair balcony with a satisfied smirk, then left back to his room.

When Titus left back up the stairs and Jon was left rubbing circles on his butt, Tim happened
to be passing by, seeing the whole thing.

"What did you do to piss off the demon?" Tim asked, chugging the mug of coffee in hand.

Jon shivered in fear as he saw Titus retreat.

"I committed the highest crime possible" was all Jon could say as he rushed to fly home,
already dreading the next day...

Turned out, it wasn't as bad as he feared.

Sure, when they stopped at a gas station on their way out of New Jersey, in a small town
called Westview, Damian made Jon go out to pay for the gas so they could make it to school
faster. He'd agreed of course, hoping that kindness would help Damian forget what had
happened. When Jon returned, Damian was looking at him, glare in his eyes following Jon
the whole way back around the Jeep..

Was Damian pondering on running him over?

They both knew it wouldn't kill Jon, and in all honestly, maybe he deserved it.

Damian did not run him over, but he did glare at Jon from time to time during school, even
when Jon apologized to Brook profoundly.

Jon made a mental note to himself that day, NEVER mess with Damian's crush. He was all
serious and aloof on the outside, but deep down Damian cared and had emotions (like
jealously) just like everyone else.

Chapter End Notes

For those of you who caught the little easter eggs, congratulations! I realized both
Gotham and Westview are in New Jersey, so I just couldn't help myself. *Maybe you'll
see more of that familiar city in the future*.
Also....YELENA AND JON ARE FINALLY A COUPLE! Brooklyn and Damian aren't
the only ones allowed to have a few secrets of their own after all.

Hope you enjoy the story so far and like the new and improved team Dynasty.
 Raging Storms

Brooklyn POV-

With a storm raging outside, Brooklyn had been hauled out of her office to tend to Rosa, who
seemed to burst into a fit of cries every time thunder shook the building.

Some part of Brook was already cursing at the god of thunder, the god she'd met briefly but
dad had sworn to be a cool guy.

Not so cool now.

She'd been planning on getting some work done for the Stark Expo since school was
cancelled. The morning had been perfect when the announcement came on, a promise of a
three day weekend.

Now as the dark skies ruled beyond her windows, as lighting cut through the sky and thunder
made it seem like there was a war raging outdoors, she couldn't help but think of the last time
she'd seen a storm of this magnitude.

It had been last year. She'd been in a shabby apartment in Brooklyn, curled up in a dusty
corner for warmth since her flat didn't have a heater or a fireplace. She'd been alone, unaware
of the fire within her blood.

Now, her phone was blasting with notifications from her friends, all of which were
complaining of the same issue with their robots. Yelena was cursing Jon for giving her a turn
with their child now of all times. Grated so was Harry, cursing the ground Tanya walked on.

Brook had no hatred towards Damian though. They had a set schedule, dividing this
'parenting' responsibility evenly between one another. What HE was annoyed by was
Goliath's constant discontent with the rain and cold, unsatisfied with the flames a fireplace
provided.

According to Dami, Goliath was once again pestering him for Brooklyn's presence.

That text had been enough to make Brooklyn laugh. At this point, the two teens were
practically co-parenting Goliath as well. Damian often dropped Goliath off with Brook' suit
for a few hours when the Dragon Bat got that whinny. Him only relenting because they both
feared that unquenchable cold could be bad for the beast's health.

At this point, Goliath had visited her home thrice, claimed the corner of the living room full
of spare decorative pillows as his own.

Brook didn't mind most of the time. Goliath looked like a monster from hell, but he was
actually quite cuddly and sweet. Of course, no one but Jon knew about the visits from
Goliath, mostly because he was often sent by Damian to drop the creature off when Brook's
suit did not double as the Stark express plane.
After getting a pot of hot water ready to make some tea, Brook looked at the notifications on
her phone, laughing at the videos Harry sent of himself in the new and improved group chat
with Harry, MJ, and Tanya joining the party. He was in his room, laying on a bed the size of a
giant, crying along with the baby by his side in hopes their cries would cancel out.

Brook looked at Rosa, who was resting against her chest wrapped in a cozy blanket. Her cries
had calmed down...then another cursed thunder struck. The teen froze, waiting to see if they
crying would return. It hadn't this time.

It would've been worse if Brooks still had her security system on, she'd learned to turn it off
since this morning's unfortunate events. Every time thunder struck, the system would think it
as a threat and all the alarms in her home would go off. The amount of times Rosa went into a
crying fit because of that were far too many for comfort.

At least Brook could try and relax with a cup of oolong tea, buried in blankets on her couch,
taking a break from work to watch that show Tanya was raving about.

Just as the kettle was placed on the flame, Brook heard another crashing noise. She was about
to text dad (who was hauled up in the compound with everyone else) so he could try and
summon the missing god of thunder until she realized that particular noise had not been
nearly as loud as the others. It had just been closer.

Brook quickly wiped her free hand on the side of her oversized SHIELD shirt before
grabbing a knife from her magnetized stand on the wall. Sure enough, she heard the doors of
her balcony rattling against the wind, only this time they were knocking against the wall.

The sounds of rain were more prominent, the chill of the snow outside a strong presence that
screamed danger. And she'd turned off her alarm system...

Maybe dad had risked the no flying rules to take her back to the compound as he'd joked
about doing earlier? Maybe Peter had made the dangerous trek back from Ned's and had
deemed her balcony the fastest way inside.

Still she clung to that knife, pressed her back against the wall of the kitchen, slowly making
her way out towards the balcony. As she went, Brook began pathetically praying to Thor
himself to hold back the thunder for a while, if Rosa cried, her advantage was gone.

It was at the edge of the wall that Brooklyn paused, clutching that sharpened knife before her
chest, discarding her ridiculous bunny slippers to avoid noise.

That's when she heard it, there was definitely movement inside her home. Boots on wet hard
wood floors, a fluttering of some sort too.

Brook considered setting down Rosa, but the movement could cost her the element of
surprise, and there was nowhere to put the baby anyways. She'd just have to be extra
careful...

Whoever Ivan had sent would meet a most unpleasant end if Rosa was harmed.
After a steading breath, Brooklyn quickly rounded the corner, ready to stab the intruder with
a simple swing of her arm. That was until the weapon was knocked from her by an arrow.

Brook stared into the darkness, now looking at the tip of a familiar looking katana raised in
warning a few feet from the teen.

When she looked forward, Brooklyn was met with a most surprising and rather unexpected
sight.

This was not an ally or one of the many enemies that had crossed her mind earlier. This
person was clad in black and gold armor dripping with water. She had a red cape on her back,
that katana of hers back by her side.

In the light of the room, Brook could see her caramel skin, the dark long hair clinging around
her face. Her red lipstick that was darker than Brooklyn's everyday shade, strong cheekbones
dripping water, and those familiar green eyes locked onto her own.

What on earth was Talia al Ghul doing in her home!?

This was bad...no this was worse than that. Brook had always assumed the League would
hate Brook for fighting their leader, but never did she expect said leader would come to try
and get revenge.

Damian's mom smiled at the lack of words from Brooklyn, kept her gaze on the teen as she
placed the katana on her back and said, "My my, I had no idea Ivan's protege had a child at
such an age. You must excuse my lack of manners Miss Stark, if I had known, I would've
brought a gift"

Brook fought the urge to scream, run, or rush into the kitchen to reactivate GIL. She tried to
relax, counted to five in her head before smiling back at the woman, showing Rosa's face so
the woman would know she couldn't use a robotic child as leverage wherever this fight would
lead.

"School assignment" Brooklyn said calmly, not risking turning her back on the woman as she
set Rosa down on a nearby console full of photos of her family.

Talia watched every movement, the lighting behind her making this all the eerier.

As soon as Brook remembered she had her gauntlets nearby, the teen tried to seem
unbothered as she stepped back towards the living room, attempting to seem like a calm
hostess as she gestured to the couches.

The Leader of the League closed the balcony doors behind her, making the gusts of wind
inside died instantly. The smell of rain and the cold of winter locked out once more.

Talia took swift steps towards Brook, and she was debating swinging a nearby lamp at the
Daughter of the Demon's Head, but then the woman merely sat on one of the couches,
looking around the place as if she owned it.
"Tell me Miss Stark," Damian's mom said, voice strong and sensual, "Why live in this small
place when you have the wealth to buy this country? I must say, I'm glad we can...chat
alone...but this doesn't seem like the place the famous princess of New York should be in"

Brook tried not to flinch at her words, she instead tried to forget just who she was talking to.

Talia and Brooklyn might've fought once already, but the teen's victory seemed like little
more than luck now. Talia was a legendary assassin of genius-level intellect, a master martial
artist and hand-to-hand combatant expert. Rumors often spoke of her near unbeatable
swordsman and marksman skills, and as someone who had witnessed them firsthand,
Brooklyn was trying not to panic.

There were too many civilians in this building, too many possible casualties. If Talia had
ninjas and assassins outside, Brook's chance of survival might be even less so.

As calmly as she could, the Stark settled on the couch adjacent to Talia, brining a baby blue
blanket over her body so she could slip the black gauntlets undetected while she replied, "I
like it here, saves me a long commute to school every day. Though I'm not surprised you
found my home and managed to sneak into it, I have to ask...why did you decide to kill me
now?"

Talia's close lipped smile grew.

"You misunderstand Miss Stark, I'm not here to kill you today. I am here because you are
useful to me at the moment"

Ok so no death...but somehow being 'useful' sounded way worse.

As the fastening of her gauntlets came to a finish, Brook inquired, "I don't see how two
enemies can be of use to one another"

Talia was seated elegantly on the couch despite the water all over her armor, and Brook
realized the woman would have a very hard time dodging a blast from her gauntlets if it came
down to it.

Those cold green eyes honed into Brook's as the woman said, "You're right, no sense in
dragging things out with pleasantries, not with two assassins in the room"

Brook steeled her nerves as the woman added, "I am here only because I am forbidden from
seeing my son by the League. Sending messengers would be too risky in this case, but I have
information he must know"

Brooklyn scoffed, almost standing up as she screamed "You would've let him die that day in
Ivan's hands and now I'm supposed to believe you want to send him a message! If you want
to kill me, then do so!"

Talia's smile vanished.

"I risked a lot coming here hasharat saghira, relax. I'm not here to kill you" she said.
Brooklyn knew more than enough Arabic to know what she had been called.

Little insect.

One of Ivan's little spiders in the woman's eyes.

Fighting the urge to fire her weapon, Brook said rather sarcastically, "Really? You wont kill
me? Because I thought thats what assassins did, they kill."

Brook expected the woman to loose her patience, but she merely went back to her amused
mood, looking around the room as she said, "Apparently not all of them"

"Meaning?" Brook asked.

The woman stood, which almost made Brook take out her weapons, only for her to realize
this was not an attack, she was just moving to the fireplace. Talia inspected each frame on the
mantel, some of which had her family, others her friends.

None of those had Damian in them. Because of possible visits from other friends or family,
Brooklyn always kept those with Damian in her room.

But the woman paused before a hung painting, the one her son had given Brook.

It was like she knew.

"You do not kill anymore from what I've heard. You are a loved hero with years of killing
experience under your belt. I like you"

Brooklyn said, "Like me? I almost killed you"

Talia chuckled, moving a manicured hand across the edges of the painting depicting a flame
slowly.

"Precisely" the woman said, eyes on the art before her as she added, "You're strong...and
unlike your Red Room sisters, you don't grovel on the ground Ivan walks on. Thats
admirable"

"I learned not to do the groveling, but I'm not too kind to trespassers" Brook warned, pushing
back her long braid to point her gauntlets at the woman at last.

Talia seemed unfazed.

"You can't kill me, girl" she said, frowning at the gauntlets with curiosity.

Brook slowly stood up from the green couch, eyes locked on Talia as she moved towards the
security panel on the wall, saying, "I can't, but my super advanced security system can blast
you five blocks out my window...but you're right, I wont kill you...because you're correct, not
all assassins kill. Count yourself lucky I'm only asking you one thing before I turn you in to
the authorities"
Amusedly, Talia clutched her katana.

"Which is?" the woman asked, head tilting ever so slightly.

Brook was sure this was an awful idea, but she had to ask...

"I spoke to Ivan...he said something big is coming. And for the sake of YOUR son, who like
me will fight to set things right, tell me what it is"

The woman moved to sit by the loveseat, removing Brook's ballet shoes from it as she settled
down with legs crossed, hands woven together.

"That is why I'm here," Talia al Ghul said, "so you can give my son a message, a last form of
kindness from a mother to her son"

Brooklyn was still thinking about attacking or even just running away, but she owed it to
Damian to listen to what his mom wanted to get across. If Talia couldn't see him and this was
important enough to risk getting caught...then it was worth potential death.

"You're right, something big will happen soon. Damian needs to be ready, and so do you Miss
Stark. My son will know what it means when I say that my hold on the League is faltering
after the events of our last encounter. Nyssa and Dusan are trying to take control, they want
the League as their own, to fulfill purposes that are dishonorable to our ways"

Brook didn't bother to ask who Nyssa and Dusan were, she just tried to keep the desperation
from her voice as she asked, "Since someone wants to take the League from you, will they be
a danger to your son? Will they try to kill him for a claim at the League?"

"Perhaps they will try" Talia said, brows furrowing in anger as she added, "Him being here
with Bruce is enough protection. But Nyssa and Dusan...they are more than happy to bow
down to whoever is running this mess. They won't hunt Damian down, but they might try and
kill him along with everyone else regardless. I will deal with them, but I'm not sure I could
kill them"

Brook lowered her weapons, sitting back on her couch as she processed it all.

Bad things were on their way...Ivan had been right.

It was stupid to ask...to taunt death like this, but Brook dared to say, "Why don't you kill me?
I'm a traitor to assassins. If you care so much about your ways, you would turn me in to the
Red Room"

Talia did not move to attack, nor did she seem like she was even considering the option. That
should've been comforting...but it felt like Brook was being circled by a hungry lion.

"The world is different now with all these aliens and mutants. Wars will no longer be about
territory or wealth, but I fear it will become a means of survival for our species. Unlike my
late father...I do still see some use in people with your type of thinking, in heroes" she said,
getting up from her seat in one swift move.
Brook was one move way from turning on her gauntlets, but kept casual as she woman
scanned Brooklyn from head to toe.

"Keep my son alive and safe, little insect"

A command.

"I don't take orders from you" Brook spat, which made the woman smile. Not a comforting
smile like the ones her mom often displayed, no, this was a knowing grin.

"It's not an order, Miss Stark. I can see you will do that even if I hadn't asked. Our last
encounter proved to me as much"

Talia couldn't know that she and Damian were not enemies. Brook trusted Talia about as far
as she could throw her, which considering the woman's skills, it was likely not very far.

"What makes you so sure I will even deliver your message? Your son and I are born enemies,
the only reason we know one another is because of our family discontent and because we go
to the same school. Our work in Bermuda was a means of survival, not necessarily an
alliance"

Talia's gaze slipped to Brook's left hand, her green eyes lingering not on her gauntlet...but her
fingers? That gaze remained for a few awkward seconds until the woman said, "I don't think
you two hate one another as much as you claim. You fight for him and he fights for you"

"Assassins don't fight for anyone" Brook said, trying to keep Talia from digging too deep, but
it was too late. What happened in Bermuda had its consequences, this was one of them.

"You two are not assassins any longer, right girl? Last I heard Robin and Firestar were
cherished heroes, working together to fight crime" Talia mused. Then her gaze moved to the
windows were the rain, snow, and sky that was still raging wild. She added, "When you were
arrested by Ivan, Damian approached me. He tried to convince me to set you free as an
inconvenience to his Red Room. A way to humiliate him for loosing a traitor, for us to gain
more power amongst the other clans. I did not get it then, only after he moved to suffer that
cruel fate alongside you did I see it was concern that drove him"

Damian had never mentioned that...

The two of them did not speak of their days in Bermuda often, too busy looking to the
uncertain future for it. Perhaps too afraid to remember how close they'd been to losing one
another.

"I was once willing to kill you for it" Talia added, "To me, no one is worthy of my son. He
was not born to depend on allies or make friends...but now I see that perhaps it suits him. Our
paths have diverged, and one day he and I will have to sort that out, even if violence is
required. As for you Black Widow, I'm starting to notice that you are a worthy opponent. You
push my son to new challenges, and somehow, you got him to trust you with his life. Perhaps
you are even fit to rule the League by my son's side one day"
Brook tried not to blush at the words, at the implications of that last statement.

"Neither of us have interest in such a future involving our old assassin lives"

Talia smirked, moving to the balcony doors as she said over her shoulder, "Perhaps not right
now. But I do hope my son keeps you close, you are by far the only worthy individual to be
around my son"

It took a few seconds to realize Talia was planning on leaving, so the teen stood on shaky
legs, pointing her gauntlets buzzing with electricity at the woman. Talia paused, turned
around, and took out a small dagger.

"I will relay your message, but I'm a SHIELD agent now...which means I have the authority
to arrest you for your crimes" Brook said, inching closer step by step until she was by Rosa's
side, who had thankfully remained quiet all this time.

Talia twirled that dagger absentmindedly.

"Not today. Heed my warning Miss Stark, if you won't listen to me then listen to your mentor.
Ivan the Great was not lying with his own words. Find the head leading this mess, kill that
person before you and all others like you end up dead" she warned.

Brook fought the urge to yell Ivan was not her mentor, right now all she could think about
was all the attacks she had to make, the dodges and the weapons she could use to bring Talia
in for further questioning.

Brooklyn and Damian had been looking for the League for so long, and this was the best lead
they had to stop this big mess.

"Heed my warning Stark, if you hurt my son...my next visit might not be so pleasant" Talia
added.

Brook didn't hesitate to reply almost as if by instinct or a secret source of bravery, "You took
the words right out of my mouth. If you ever hurt Damian, it will be me who will be paying
you a visit. That won't end well for you"

She smiled at that. Like they had an understanding.

Before Brook could launch herself at the woman, the kettle in the kitchen began to whistle,
followed by a streak of lightning flashing behind Talia.

Instead of using the dagger, the woman pulled out a smoke bomb, using the white fog as a
distraction to open the balcony doors. By the time Brook found her way over to the balcony
past the smoke, the platform was empty, and when she looked down below...there was no one
there.

The rain had stopped, yet thunder continued to make the earth shake as Brooklyn force
herself to look for the woman who seemed to have disappeared without a trace.

Brook knew what she had to do.

Rushing back inside, she closed the balcony doors, turned on the security system and brought
a crying Rosa into her arms.

As she dealt with the boiling water, Brooklyn looked at the baby in her arms as said
annoyedly, "Your grandmother is a fucking bitch"

With that she sent a series of texts, then slumped on the couch, letting her heart calm down
from the danger that was Talia al Ghul's visit.

****

Brook knew sending those messages to Damian would send him into a state of distress. But
he deserved to know.

She was not surprised that despite the warnings not to fly, he insisted she send over her suit.
Brook told him it was too late to go hunting for Talia as gently as she could, that woman was
still his mother after all.

Damian had surprised her then, saying he wanted to go to her apartment not to hunt down his
mom....but to make sure Brook was safe and unharmed. It didn't matter that it was midnight
or that some of his family members were at home. He'd promised to arrive as soon as he
could, giving GIL the order to deploy the suit himself.

Damian had even called Jon to make up some excuse of him being in Metropolis, which Jon
agreed to without a question....likely because he knew Dami wouldn't explain and because he
knew it would help ease Damian, who'd been glaring at Jon sometimes because of the kissing
incident.

The mere fact that Dami was concerned for Brooklyn was a relief, something that helped stop
the shaking of her body when she thought about all that could've gone wrong.

A part of her was still afraid this was a trap. Talia pretending to come with a message
guessing Brook would have Damian come only for her to kill him...but he'd been certain that
wasn't the case.

Though she would likely refuse to admit it if asked, Brook did jump slightly out of her seat
when the suit arrived at her balcony, that quickening of her heart only slowed when Damian
came out of it looking slightly disheveled, katanas strapped to his back, vibranium dagger in
hand.

He was only wearing a pair of cotton navy blue sweatpants and a white t-shirt, his hair still
showing evidence that he'd been asleep not long ago. When his gaze caught her own, Brook
almost sighed in relief as he rushed over to sit by her side.

Brook barely noticed Goliath trialing behind him, but she felt him quickly snuggling on her
lap as Damian settled beside her, pulling the blankets away from her body gently.

Damian said nothing as he checked her body for injuries, even when she'd told him over text
that she was unharmed. He eyed Rosa for a brief second, as if he was checking for injuries on
the robot as well, then he did not hesitate for even a second to pull Brooklyn into his
embrace, discarding his weapons on the floor.

Brooklyn hugged him tight, breathing that familiar scent of his, listening as he whispered,
"I'm here, my beloved" over and over until her body stopped shaking. She could've kissed
him for not mentioning the weakened state she was in.

She still pulled herself together, telling Damian all his mother had said in case he understood
it better than she did. As the two sat on the couch, she caressed Goliath's ears while Dami
listened to every detail attentively.

Sometimes, Brooklyn could've sworn she saw mixed emotions in his eyes, but his hand never
stopped caressing her own as she finished the tale.

As the storm continued to rage outside, Damian payed the rumbling of thunder no mind as he
said, "I never expected mother would step foot in this country after what happened, much less
come to you. The situation must be bad if she risked so much"

Brook hummed in agreement.

"That's two warnings we've gotten about trouble arising Damian. I was hoping Ivan just
wanted me to have sleepless nights worrying over nothing as revenge for locking him up, but
now it seems like someone is out there planning something big"

Damian frowned, taking a sip of the tea she'd left for him as the light from the fireplace
bounced off his skin.

"Then its settled" Dami said, leaning further into the couch, "If you don't mind, I'll stay here
for the weekend. Once we're back at school, we can make more safety plans with the others. I
trust my mother's warning, but I'm not sure I trust her with your life. Let me protect you"

Brooklyn smiled at him, reaching out a hand to caress his cheek.

"What if your family looks for you?"

Damian rolled his eyes, "Then Jon will lie. We won't be disturbed"

The idea of having Damian around for more than just stolen minutes at school and a few
hours afterwards was a relief she'd never imagined possible. Her family would not be
expecting her at the compound this weekend thanks to the storm...so she nodded, relaxing
against the couch as she blasted nothing more than wisps of fire to the Dragon Bat on her lap.

With the recent emotional blow, Brook did not trust herself to summon more fire than that.
Goliath did not seem to mind as he curled closer to Brook's chest, wings folded and dragon
tail swaying from side to side.

Damian whispered something along the lines of 'spoiled' before grabbing Rosa into his own
arms, turning his attention back to the updates on TV about the storm. It didn't take long for
them to decide to go to bed, it was late and they were both exhausted from all that had
occurred today.
Goliath seemed to know it too, because like all the times he'd stayed in her home, the little
critter was already marching over to Brook's bedroom to claim the desk chair he loved to
sleep in.

Neither teen bothered asking where Damian would be sleeping, and Brooklyn had never been
more glad they were comfortable with one another that things like these did not need to be
discussed.

They went through the routine in relative ease. Brook already kept toiletries for Damian
because of his past visits, like the day of Flash's party or the time he stayed the weekend. The
two teens settled in Brook's bathroom, each taking a sink.

Through the mirror, Brooklyn couldn't help but smile at the boy beside her, which turned into
a series of silly faces that almost made Damian choke on his own toothpaste. He got back at
her when he was washing his face and splashed a fair amount on her.

The giggles and laugher only prompted Goliath to waddle into the bathroom, standing by the
door as he looked up at both of them. His fur almost made him look like he was frowning.
Impatiently, the dragon bat rolled onto his back, belly up for attention.

Brooklyn set down her toothbrush before leaning down to scratch the beast.

"You know, Dragon Bats are myths, creatures that have been feared for generations. They
certainly shouldn't be coddled like this" Damian said, moving to crouch by her side to frown
at the happy animal.

As if sensing the humans were done making him wait, Goliath trudged back to the bedroom,
settling on the chair covered in sweatshirts and claw marks on the arm rests.

When Brook's head hit the pillow, not even the storm raging outside could disturb the sense
of rightness of it, especially when Damian set Rosa on the makeshift crib beside them (it was
just a laundry basket with blankets) and moved to lay by her side.

GIL happily turned off the lights for them, which set the glowing star stickers on her wall
back to life, casting enough light for Brook to see Damian's eyes were still open, staring up at
nothing.

She knew he was worried, and not just about Brooklyn's safety.

Talia may be an assassin legend, but she was still Dami's mom, clearly cared enough to warn
him something bad was about to happen. Maybe thats where his thoughts lingered, what
would no doubt keep him awake.

Damian was often Brook's comfort, still a best friend to talk to about anything and
everything, which is why she moved to lean sideways to face him. Brook refrained from
touching him in case thats not what he needed at the moment, instead she asked, "Your mom
mentioned people called Nyssa and Dusan. Who are they?"

He moved to face her as well then.

"I suppose they are my aunt and uncle, but both of them were rejected by my grandfather
decades ago. Nyssa was not as strong as my mother, so even though she was older, she was
cast away for not being adequate to lead our people. As for Dusan, he was grandfather's only
son, was supposed to be his heir...but he was cast away because grandfather thought Dusan
being an albino made him weak and unworthy. With grandfather dead...they could very well
take hold of the League now as a means of revenge"

No wonder Brook had no idea they existed, Ra's wouldn't have wanted news on inadequate
heirs reaching other guilds.

The thought of others like Talia, offspring of the demon's head himself...it was unsettling.
What was more so was probably the fact that Talia mentioned they were worse than she was.

"Should we do something about it?" Brook asked.

Damian shook his head, and when strands of his dark hair moved to cover his eyes, Brook
reached out and gently combed them back. She smiled when Damian sighed contently at the
action.

"I don't think we can do anything. This is League business...then again" Damian mused, "I'm
still the heir despite my betrayal, if those traitors want the League, they'll probably come for
me eventually"

Suddenly, all fear Brooklyn had felt about these so called Nyssa and Dusan vanished,
replaced with anger at the thought of anyone attacking Damian. It didn't matter how skilled
they were, Brook would rain down hell itself on them if they tried.

"Like hell they will" she whispered, noticing that her eyes had come ablaze when the light of
her fire reflected off Damian's undisturbed expression, "I'll stop them if they try"

Damian brought a hand to her cheek, and that quickly, the light from her eyes seemed to
disappear. She had no clue who started the action, but soon Brooklyn was tucked into
Damian's side, with her drawing patterns on his shirt while he caressed the scars on her back,
especially the new one she'd received at Bermuda...like he had never forgotten it was there.

It was in a whisper that he said, "I'm certain you will, my beloved"

They looked out for one another, that was the deal...that was their promise.

Brooklyn sighed as she embraced Damian, wondering if their moments of peace were coming
to an end.

When she looked up at him, his gaze was already on her own.

Now, though they were slowly getting more used to the kissing thing, Brook had never
pressed for it, often waiting for Damian to kiss her back when he felt comfortable with it. It
wasn't like it felt weird, on the contrary, Brooklyn quite enjoyed sharing that bit of intimacy
with him. So when it was him that leaned down to connect their lips, the Stark couldn't help
but smile.
To Brook kissing was not just intimacy, but a reminder of trust, which was the highest
currency any trained assassin possessed.

It was something they were both getting used to doing casually like everything else, all at
their own pace. Just how they had once worked at holding hands, or engaging in an embrace,
even a kiss on the cheek or forehead had been something that took some time to just become
normality for them. But it was well worth it.

Now in bed, as Brook basked in the familiar warmth that was her Dami, stronger than any
flame she could ever produce. His soft lips knew her own by now, and as the two commenced
a dance with them, Brooklyn couldn't help but realize this was the most comfortable she'd
ever been in her life.

Though what they had was...forbidden to say the least, being around Damian was a gift.

He kissed her softly at first, then with an abrupt gradation of intensity that made Brook cling
to him further, her arms going around his neck as gravity pulled her closer to his chest.

Right now there was nothing beyond the two of them, just Brooklyn and Damian.

The feeling of his hands on her back were soothing, his lips like a spark of hope, and even
when they eventually had to reach for air, they remained close. Forehead to forehead. Their
minty breaths between them as they brought oxygen back to their lungs.

Brooklyn couldn't help but grin from ear to ear, leaning down occasionally to press a few
chaste kisses on his plump lips, laughing softly when he reciprocated them shyly as if he
hadn't been kissing her with passion earlier.

They might have spent minutes or hours like that, enjoying one another's company as he
whispered her name and she his. They whispered promises to keep the other safe, and Brook
found that after a particularly long and passionate lock of lips, Damian seemed to revert back
to his mother tongue when he spoke to her almost unknowingly.

"Mahbubi"

My Beloved, he'd whisper between kisses, softly in a way he never let himself be seen before
others. It broke her heart every time he said it, found it to be her favorite word in the
universe.

Their bliss was only interrupted by the need for sleep, but even so, Brooklyn she fell asleep
in his embrace. She was not plagued by nightmares that night, the only thing that woke her
and Damian up were the timely wails from Rosa.

They took turns luring her back to sleep, and Goliath would join them. Wether he was
annoyed or just wanting to show support, Brooklyn wasn't sure.

By the time GIL woke them up with a cheery alarm, Brooklyn first noticed Damian's arms
had not left her back, that she was still laying basically atop him with her own arms wrapped
around his neck.
The sun was not out that morning, only dark clouds and light snowfall.

Looking up at Damian's calm sleeping face, she couldn't help but smile and think...what a
pleasant thing to wake up to.

Brook accidentally lured him away from sleep when she began tracing the freckle-like spots
all over his skin. Just how Damian had seemed to memorize the scars and injuries on her
back, Brooklyn knew where those little spots were, like they were constellations in the sky.

The two had relaxed in bed for a while, having quite a fun time seeing Jon's texts to Damian.
Jon was frantically asking where Damian had gone, asking if all was well. Seeing as neither
wanted a visit from their friend, he just made some excuse about being on a special mission.

That special mission consisted of the two having to get out of bed when Goliath jumped on
their bodies, demanding food. While Brook began fixing up a simple breakfast, Damian gad
gone to the spare room to get changed into some of the clothes he always kept there.

Once at the table, with Rosa nearby and Goliath eating on the floor, Brooklyn realized that
things had not changed much since they began their 'something more'.

From what Brook had read up on relationships, this was usually a period of adjustment, and it
was changes that usually made things uncomfortable. Perhaps they were already acting like a
couple beforehand that this change had not hit them as hard.

After a riveting meal of cereal and coffee, Damian suggested they could spend some time
doing research on anything that might seem amiss in the world. But a few hours of research
in the office revealed next to nothing.

Alien weapon busts were going well, both Avengers and the League showing promising
results. Ivan was still locked up, and since the incident at the bank during school, the Joker
had been silent in New York.

I didn't take long for Brooklyn to suggest they take a break, and because they couldn't leave
the apartment thanks to the storm, they found time for Brooklyn to practice some ballet while
Damian drew with some markers Peter had left during a study cession.

It was a peaceful couple of hours. Goliath happily laying in the fireplace Brook was
constantly feeding flames to, both Brook and Damian attempting a meal without Alfred's
advice (which had turned out quite well), as well as getting some homework done.

While they had cooked lunch, Brooklyn had almost burst out laughing while listening to her
usual music, which Damian often claimed not to like but seemed to find himself humming
along to today. He'd denied it of course, complaining he always had to listen to her music.

Now in Brook's room, the two were watching the storm while laying in Brooklyn's bed.
Thanks to the weather, there were no crimes in the city, an additional comfort for the day. As
she played with the golden necklace around her neck, Damian lay beside her, reading The Six
Secret Teachings on the Way of Strategy to Rosa.
Damian kept an arm around her shoulders, his fingers playing with the soft fabric of one of
his turtlenecks (which she'd borrowed). His voice was strong and steady, slowly luring Brook
to sleep until she heard the lock in her front door opening.

Only seven people had access to her house when the security system was on.

Damian. Aunt May. Natasha. Grandpa Steve. Peter. Mom, and Dad.

GIL's robotic Russian voice was quick to announce, "Mr. Stark is here"

Sure enough, as the front door closed, Brooklyn heard the sounds of her dad calling out to
her.

Brook and Damian shared a wide eyed stare before they bolted out of the bed. Dad was
already in the hall, so the hiding places were limited, their time short.

If dad saw Damian here...how could she explain that!?

In a moment of blind panic, Brooklyn ushered Damian to the closet in her room, grabbing
Goliath along the way as she softly whispered a plead for him to be quiet. Damian was
shaking his head annoyedly as she pushed him into the small space, but once he was in, he
remained quiet while closing the doors.

Brooklyn barely had time to rush to her desk wall where all her photos with Damian were
hung. Luckily she'd prepared for unexpected visits, unfastening the small poster of The
Beatles to cover them before rushing to her bed with Rosa in tow, trying to look as relaxed
and innocent as possible.

First Talia al Ghul, now her dad...what was up with parents visiting Brooklyn lately...

Dad peeked into the room with a smile, suit jacket in hand as he said, "Hey, Daphne!"

Though Brook was genuinely happy to see her dad, her mind was too focused on the closet in
the other side of the room to manage more than a, "Hey dad! Um, what are you doing here?
Not that I'm not happy by the unexpected visit...but there's a storm outside"

Dad huffed out a laugh, settling beside her on the bed (the Iron Man suit waiting patiently
outside the door), eyes on the storm outside the window as he said, "I was worried about you!
I tried to call this morning but GIL sent me to voicemail! I know you're a living flame and all
but Pepper was concerned you'd catch a cold"

Holy shit...dad was in her room...and Damian was also in her room. He was on the bed she
and Damian had slept and kissed on...

Brook managed to muster out a weak nod before dad's eyes gleamed at the sight of Rosa. Dad
had only found out about the school assignment thanks to Yelena, and had only seen Rosa
from a far but he always asked about his granddaughter's well being over text.

Now, dad had no qualms about taking Rosa from Brook's arms, cooing at her little Iron man
clothes.
"You know, I feel the need to remind you that you're too young to have children even when
Peter swore on his prized lego set that you weren't dating anyone at school" Brook choked on
her own spit at the comment, but dad continued, "Still, I'm glad I finally get to spend some
time with my granddaughter, even if she's a robot. Just the three of us"

Um...well...she had a boyfriend in her closet.

Brook sighed, "One of my brothers is a robot, how do you think I feel?"

Dad shrugged in acceptance as he began to look around the room, his gaze lingering on all
the Polaroids of Brook and her friends. She could only hope his shades didn't have x-ray
vision to see the hidden ones under The Beatles poster.

When his gaze met her own again, dad smiled and said, "I haven't actually been here before
now that I think about it. Its nice, certainly better than the first apartment we met at"

"Well, barista jobs don't pay much"

Dad shook his head.

"I meant that you seem to be settling down comfortably here. This place feels like you, looks
happy. Millions of dollars can't buy that, Brook" he clarified.

The Iron Man suit in the hallway nodded as if backing up dad's statement.

Brooklyn was about to usher her dad out of the room with the excuse of some coffee when a
growl echoed in the room. Brook froze as her dad raised a brow, eyes scanning their
surroundings as he asked, "Did you hear that?"

Why did Goliath have to betray her....

"Um...it was my stomach. I was about to eat. You down for some leftovers before you go
back to the compound?" she asked, keeping her gaze anywhere but the closet.

Dad considered, but only as a joke.

"Of course! We finally get to spend more father-daughter time without Capsicle spouting a
righteousness speech. I've been dying for you to tell me about your hero work, and you can
curse around me all you want if you need to vent about working with a Wayne" dad said,
placing a hand on her shoulder, unaware that he was touching one of Damian's turtlenecks.

"I've been so busy lately we haven't even talked about your SHIELD training or any drama at
school! I heard that Yelena had a little crush on someone there which I hope is going well
since I don't actually hate her. Plus we can finally discuss personal things, like what you
thought about your grandparents, or if you have a crush we can talk about that too. I have a
lot of stories to tell you about my school days that can help" dad said, eyebrows wiggling
during that last part.

Oh god...did dad know Damian was inside the closet and was just messing with her? Did he
know they were allies, friends...way more than friends?
Dad didn't seem upset though.

"Um yeah, we can talk over some food, I'm starving" she said, standing up from her bed,
subtly moving in front of The Beatles poster as Dad slowly got off the bed.

It was in a brief moment of panic that Brook saw Damian's katanas under the bed where he'd
left them for security purposes. All she could do was pray dad would not look down, or at the
connected bathroom where two morning setups were visible, or the closet with a Wayne in it.

Brooklyn had never imagined dad would come to her apartment, and now she was paying the
price of that unpreparedness.

Thankfully, dad set down Rosa on the bed, stretched out his arms then finally made his way
over to her. She tried not to sigh too loud at that.

The Iron Man suit had already left down the hall, and just before the two could join, dad
frowned down at her bare feet which Goliath had been keeping warm earlier.

"I'm gonna sound like such a mom, but you shouldn't be barefoot in this kind of weather,
Brook. You can get sick, and frankly, magical space powers or not you should still be careful.
Let me grab you some shoes or something" dad said, and Brook felt her heart race almost
loud enough to hear as dad made his way to the closet in the room.

Brook lunged, grabbing a hold of her dad's hand as she laughed nervously.

"Oh that! I have some socks in the laundry! I can get those" she said.

Dad paused with a hand on the closet door, opening and closing it quickly as if he were
playing with it. Thankfully the opening of the door was not big enough to see the boy within,
and dad let himself be guided to the kitchen.

He stayed for an hour or so, helping her cook up a meal of leftover noodles in sauce that he
claimed was his only cooking experience thanks to his days in college. Very aware of the
time, Brooklyn told dad about school, SHIELD, the company work she'd been doing
yesterday, and her hero work.

Like dad had always said in his texts, he expressed his pride for her.

"You became a hero all on your own! Pepper is right you know, putting your hatred aside for
saving lives...it makes you a better hero than your old man" he said, jokingly bumping fists
with her.

"Guess I got my hero tendencies from you" she'd joked back, sending dad into a deep set of
chuckles.

Though most of that hour had gone relatively fine, dad had pestered about some...delicate
things. He's asked why there were so many dishes on the sink, which she lied saying she'd
had a big breakfast. Dad had also kept his worry about her feet, so when she went into the
laundry in search for a pair of socks, Tony had spotted Damian's pjs.
"Aren't these guy pjs?" dad asked, lifting the blue sleeping pant from the basket that looked
too big to be her own.

"They're comfy...a gift from Peter" she explained, lying right through he teeth.

Dad had beamed at that answer, following her lie with questions about how she and Peter
were now a days, hinting that all this hero work must've made them closer lately. At first she
thought he was just ranting about his prodigy (who Brook was completely not jealous of
still). Then she realized had was not just praising Peter for no reason.

Before leaving, dad mentioned he had two tickets to an opera in Queens for next weekend.
Since he and mom would be busy taking Harley shopping for a new laptop and such, he
thought it might be a good idea for Brook to go with Pete.

"It will do you both some good to rest once in a while. Besides, you two will be in one of the
private booths! Won't that be nice?" dad said.

Brook wouldn't mind spending time with Peter, but the excitement dad had in his eyes made
her hesitate. What was dad's deal?

"I'll have to ask him" Brook said, but was cut off when dad said, "Well, I asked his aunt
already and she said he could go. You're welcome!"

He'd already asked May? Ok...

As dad moved to the balcony with his suit in tow, he stopped to give her a hug, once again
praising her hero work. He mentioned something about having to talk to Peter before the two
teens went to the opera, that mom would want to help Brook pick out an elegant outfit for
sure so she had that to look forward to.

Dad was so kind to her, loved Brook very much....it made her feel guilty for lying.

She almost came clean about things that had occurred recently. About the attack at the library,
the visit from Talia, her lack of hatred for his enemy's son. All from Bermuda and days before
that involving Damian.

Brook thought about sitting down with her dad, to explain to him that Dami was a good guy.
That he had saved her in more ways than one, that he was only cold and detached until you
got to know him. Damian was undeniably such a big part of Brook's life now and it made her
upset keeping it from her dad.

Then dad said, "Remember Brooklyn, it's good that you're so dedicated to saving lives, but I
want you to keep as much distance as possible from that Wayne. I saw that little shit days ago
and still can't get the disgust out of my head. If he bothers you or touches you or even looks
at you, I'll send one of these suits to deal with him"

He pointed at the Iron Man suit behind them, who opened all compartments of weapons as if
showing off.

Yep...definitely a good idea not to say a thing.

Once dad got into the suit and left her apartment, Brook rushed back to her room, busting the
closet doors open only to see a frowning Damian getting his face licked by Goliath as they
lay on a pile of clothes fallen from their hangars.

The fear was gone at least.

Brook kneeled down to grasp his face, watching as his eyes adjusted to the light of the room
as she asked, "Are you ok?"

Damian nodded, moving back to the bed with Brooklyn. Goliath wasted no time begging for
fire, and though the beast had almost gotten them caught, she obliged.

Dami got hold of Rosa, and as he put an arm around Brooklyn, he whispered to the robot,
"Your grandfather is a menace"
 Heroes and Meals

Brooklyn POV-

Brook and Damian had woken up the next day realizing they'd had a close call yesterday. So
they made sure to tell their families all was well, that they were both fine just so no more
surprise visits would drop on them.

Damian's family still thought he was in Metropolis, Brook's thought she was happily by
herself in her apartment. Their friends thinking they were in separate homes. It was a winding
web of lies, all for the sake of a few hours with the one person Brooklyn was not supposed to
enjoy being around.

They had made the most of their day with that newfound peace.

At Brook's request, the two had stayed in bed longer that morning. They'd watched the
morning news in one another's embrace under the covers, with Goliath by their feet and Rosa
at arms length.

The storm was coming to an end, and even through they couldn't really go outside thanks to
the snow, they still had enough food to last a week. It was easy to assume that they would
spend the rest of their Sunday locked in, and for once, the idea of just doing nothing for a day
was too good to pass.

Since the morning, there were no responsibilities to bite away their time, and it was blissful.

After their breakfast, the two had washed all the dishes, letting GIL play a series of songs of
different genres to see what music they had in common. It turned out, their tastes in music
were so apart (hers on pop and rock classics and his leaning towards orchestras and ancient
classics) that they'd found only two middle ground melodies. But now whenever they had to
wash dishes, they'd have songs they would both enjoy.

It seemed like a silly thing to establish, but Brook was glad they'd gone through that process.
Maybe it meant that despite all their differences, they'd always try to find the place they could
come together.

Brook had learned quite few other things about Damian in their time together, like the way he
folded laundry, how he liked his sandwiches, and that he did not really mind storms and snow
since it reminded him of his childhood in the mountains of Nanda Parbat.

While they soothed Rosa back to sleep, Dami told her stories of his childhood. About how
he'd had to climb the freezing mountains of Interlaken since he was four. He'd fallen that first
time, broken his wrist as a result, but still made it to the top as was expected of him.

Brook wanted nothing more than to shove Talia al Ghul and Ra's al Ghul rotting casket down
the Interlaken mountains for putting Damian through that. She knew better than to say so,
because despite his discontent with the League, he had to be telling her these tales of the past
because of his mom's appearance.

Damian hadn't voiced it, but Brook could tell he was worried for her being overthrown... in
an assassin world, that could only mean she'd be killed even if those two seeking power truly
were Talia's siblings.

Now, the woman was a terrifying legend, a person Brooklyn hated with all her might. But if
Damian ever decided she was worth saving....Brook would help him do just that, even if it
meant fighting the League. Despite Damian's own hatred towards Brook's dad, she knew that
if Tony was ever in trouble, he'd help as well...

When Damian asked if she'd ever had to climb mountains in Moscow as a kid, Brooklyn had
been close to laughing.

She'd taken the sleeping Rosa from his arms, letting the child rest on the laundry basket as the
two laid down against the wall beside it. Too bad there were so many clothes than needed
folding today...

Clothing choices had not changed much since the arrival of the baby assignment, everyone
still looked like tired parents. Yet, Goliath had a particular fondness in scratching at her 'mom
jeans', which is where the beastie settled down to do just that.

Brook leaned her head on Damian's chest, trying not to smile at the sight of his worn Gotham
High t-shirt that she often stole to sleep in now a days (not that he knew that). He pulled her
close, arm around her shoulders as they lay on the floor in case Rosa decided to throw two
tantrums in a row.

Knowing he was still waiting for her answer, she said, "You already know the Red Room was
located in a large mansion that posed as a ballet studio for orphans..but the girls weren't
allowed up there until after they were a certain age. Everyone else was below the property in
the elaborate set of tunnels and rooms deep into the ground to avoid detection"

Damian began tracing figures against the shoulder of her tight knit sweater, an old thing she'd
gotten years ago...the first item of clothing she'd ever bought with her own money actually.

It was a miracle it still fit.

"How old did you have to be?" he asked.

Brook only hesitated for a second as she replied breathlessly, "Fourteen"

Damian only pulled back slightly to get a look at her calm face, his own mixed with anger
and horror as he realized, "You left when you were seven"

With a tired sigh, Brook nodded.

"I didn't see what the sun and moon looked like until Natasha got me out, never felt blades of
grass or a natural breeze either. I only knew the winter cold, but it wasn't until I was dropped
off at the orphanage that I saw snow for the first time. As for mountains, I've never been to
any, but Tony took me to San Fransisco once so I've seen a beach before. Aside from that, all
I know is New Orleans, your home, New York...and the Bermuda island we went to" she
confessed.

Brook could've sworn Damian brought her body closer to his own, let their fuzzy-sock
covered feet intertwine when he asked, "That piece of shit Ivan never took you out of those
tunnels...and then SHIELD just took you to another cage, an orphanage. Pieces of shit.
You've don't usually speak of your time there in the orphanage though, why?"

In truth, Brook recalled very little of it. It was mostly a time of fighting the urge to solve all
her problems by killing. It was like she was a lion stuck in a cage with antelopes without
being able to hunt them. It was a time of sleep being plagued by Ivan's words, or hearing his
reprimanding voice with every action.

Her only friend had been that stuffed animal she still kept in that hidden box, and even then
she had no idea what friends were to properly label it as such.

Things were different now. She had everything she never knew she needed.

There was no point lingering in the lonely past...

Tracing the faint calluses in his hands, Brook explained, "It wasn't that important, mostly just
a time of observation for me until I was adopted by the Jones family. At least you got to go
straight to your dad when you left the League right? That must've been fun"

Despite Damian's clear worry for her, he still smirked at whatever memories flashed in his
mind.

"I tried to kill Dick almost instantly...and Drake. I was too busy trying to get revenge on the
man that killed my grandfather to care about much, and father was too busy trying to keep me
'safely indoors' because the invasion in New York had just happened. He trusted Superman
then, but every other alien was like a nuclear bomb to him" Damian said.

Brook recalled the screams, the blood, the death in the streets of Manhattan six years ago.
That was the first time the world realized we weren't alone in the universe, mostly because
everyone still considered Superman some freak experiment at the time.

There had been rumors that the hero known as Green Lantern was an alien back then, but
mutants had come out of the shadows by then, so any other famous aliens now were just
considered that...just mutants.

The Stark remembered the first time she saw a Leviathan fly above her. She hadn't known its
name at the time, just that it looked like a giant flying worm that had no trouble bringing
down buildings with ease.

It had obscured the sun, its screams so high pitched they made Brook's ears bleed as Thor and
the Hulk took one down..
She recalled the way midtown New York had looked. Full of smoke, fire, and debris.
Blood...so much blood. Blue and red blood all over the place...like a patriotic joke.

It had been a grim sight through and through. Yet, back then, she'd cared very little outside
her well being, the children in the streets, and her unknown father flying into space.

Simpler times, but not better in any way.

Brook snapped out of the memories when she realized Damian was calling her name, trying
to pull her from the memories of the past. She assured him all was well, even if she felt a
stinging in the injury on he leg, a little reminder of said war.

Though he did not press for details, Damian offered to take her mind off it with those art
lessons she'd been joking about yesterday. With no proper supplies, the two grabbed some old
cereal boxes and got creative with the few colored pencils, pens, and even some of Brook's
makeup.

It had worked, even if her art looked like shit in the end.

Damian had drawn the mountains of snow from his tales so she could see them, and Brook
had tried to draw a simple house out in a field somewhere. Goliath (feeling left out) had
decided to get creative, climbing atop the table and taking a carton of his own to set on fire.

One empty fire-hydrant later and a scolding from Damian, and the two teens had fallen on the
couch with smiles on their faces despite the chaos.

Thats when a knock at the door came.

Great now who wanted to visit?...

Still fearful of what occurred yesterday, Brook asked GIL, "Who's at the door?"

GIL's robotic voice was quick to reply, "Ms. May Parker"

Damian's shoulders relaxed, so the girl rushed over to see if May was here to say something
had gone wrong with Peter's return home. Pete had the strength of eight men, but he wasn't
invincible.

As soon as Brook opened the door, Aunt May was already smiling down at the teen, arms
wide open for a hug she gladly gave.

"Ah, my sweet Brook! I'm glad you're doing alright. It's been a long time since we've been
able to talk!" May said, pulling away from the hug to motion at the mop she'd left beside the
door.

"I brought your mop back" she said, pushing her glasses back into place as she added
sheepishly, "Sorry it took me a week to remember to bring it back"

Brook smiled at the woman, "It's not a problem at all! Is everything alight back home?"
May rolled her eyes, motioning to to doors down the hall as she explained, "Peter is sleeping
off a Call of Duty all-nighter but that baby of his is seeing that doesn't happen for too long"

As if on cue, the sounds of baby wailing began behind Brook from the open door down the
hall.

"Yeah, I know what that feels like" Brook joked, sneaking a glance into the hall of her own
home, surprised to see Damian was actually making his way toward her with the baby in his
arms. She'd assumed he wouldn't want to deal with talking to May, but as he stood beside
Brook, Damian turned a polite nod towards the woman, rocking the baby in his arms.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Parker" he'd said.

Aunt May was wide eyed for a few seconds, taking time to look at the baby, then the two
teens, then the distance between their shoulders, and lastly their matching fluffy socks
Damian made her swear not to tell anyone he'd worn.

Brook considered moving to stand further away from Damian, but then May said in a chipper
tone, "It's good to see you again, Damian! You're here to help Brook with the baby? Peter
never mentioned you two were paired together"

Brooklyn had a bad feeling about all this, but still said over the sounds of Rosa's final wails,
"We did, but at least there is only a few weeks left of this torture until the assignment is over"

May smirked, likely taking in their tired appearances.

"Since Damian is here and I assume will stay for a little longer, maybe you two should join us
for dinner. I ordered Chinese" she offered.

Brooklyn knew better than to say she didn't want to impose or bother the woman, so instead
she turned to Damian, letting him decide if he was up for 'human interaction'. Surprisingly, he
said yes with very little hesitation, even when he knew Peter would be there.

Damian had stopped glaring at Pete as much lately, and Peter himself had gotten better at
talking to the Wayne without being scared. It was progress, but not eat Chinese food together
kind of progress.

Still, May left back to her apartment with a skip in her step which Brooklyn questioned as she
went back indoors.

"Why did you say yes?" Brook inquired with baby and mop in hand, stopping Damian in the
middle of the hall with her body before his own.

Dami merely shrugged, placing a kiss atop her temple as he made his way to the spare room,
likely to change into more elegant clothes.

He said over his shoulder, "May has an exceptional talent for embarrassing Peter. Besides,
you once told me this would happen, so I intend to accept the invitation courteously"
She looked down at Rosa, who'd stopped wailing this time without the need for a lullaby. She
eyed the baby's Robin onesie Damian had tauntingly put on this morning.

"I guess we need to change your clothes too" she said to the baby, surprised she'd be going to
May's with company for once.

Hopefully things wouldn't end badly.

Aunt May POV-

May couldn't recall a time she'd been more pleasantly surprised as she was on that cold and
snow filled day.

The day had started out somberly after coming back from her nightshift at the hospital. There
had been many people suffering frostbite, others with injuries caused by fallen objects during
yesterday's storm.

May had been tired, but worked through it remembering that her job was to help people, just
like Peter and his friends were doing. It was the memory of those teenage misfits that not
only encouraged May to work through her shift with a smile, but also served as a reminder
that she'd yet to return a mop to Brooklyn.

She'd really have to take the time during the week to buy a new one, thanks to a certain
teenage boy who'd broken theirs with that super strength of his. At least now with his
SHIELD checks and May's raise they weren't doing too bad on income.

Yes May had been exhausted, then she noticed the tired yet happy girl at the doorstep. May
was glad to see the darkness of her past was lesser by now, had thought maybe all that hero
work as Firestar might be the cause of said change.

Then she saw the Wayne inside her home, dressed cozily as if he'd been there for some time.
May knew better than to wonder if those two were doing...teenage things, but it was in that
moment when they stood side by side that May knew the boy had something to do with the
way Brooklyn seemed more alive than the first time she'd met the girl.

He too looked less...angry at the world. Peter had even mentioned a few times that the Wayne
was starting to become a wonderful partner to work with. It made May happy that Peter was
no longe burdened with being a hero on his own, that he had a strong a capable team to help.

As she rushed through the house to make sure all looked well, her happiness tended to shift
towards the consideration that perhaps Brook and Damian had bonded thanks to the hero
stuff and the school assignment.

She really needed to teach Peter how to gossip if she ever hoped to find out things like these
from him....

Frantically fluffing pillows and straightening chairs, May called Peter to help, mentioning to
the bleary eyed boy that Brook and Damian would be coming over in a few.

Peter had stopped dead in the hall.

"Damian? What do you mean Damian is coming?" he asked, but still subconsciously moved
to help May set the table.

May had no clue how to sort out her happiness at the sight of those two together, so she
merely explained, "I think Damian payed Brook a visit to help with the baby robot they have
to take care of"

Peter trudged back and fourth from the kitchen and the table in his pjs, but looked wide
awake now as he shook his head repeatedly, looking confused.

"There is a storm outside May, how could he...besides, even when they don't fight anymore,
they don't like to spend time together unless necessary. They always take turns on the
weekend with baby Rosa"

May tried not to squeal as she realized those adorable teens had named their school
assignment, presumably together. Oh, it had been so long since May had dealt with drama
like this, not since med school.

But why was Peter being so concerned all of the sudden?

As the clock shifted to seven, there was a knock on the door. Impeccable timing.

May noticed how Peter still looked a bit weary if not unconvinced, which is why she got a
special kind of joy when she opened the door for both teens to come inside. The first thing
she noticed is that they had changed clothes from the casual and warm attire from earlier,
now into something more elegant.

While Brooklyn came in without hesitation, stepping up to hug May with a baby in her arms,
the woman couldn't help but beam in joy. Damian stood behind the teen, arms behind his
back politely as he waited to be let inside.

She really should've told them getting dressed was not necessary, now May looked
underdressed compared to them. They looked like adults already, like a crazy good-looking
power couple...one of those elegant pairs from movies carved out of the same star.

It reminded May of a time past with her husband...when he was still alive.

Once the warm embrace broke free, Brook moved to the side so Damian and May could
shake hands. Damian was a polite young man, definitely raised with proper manners. He
thanked her for the invitation, and that passive politeness only stopped when the Wayne
looked behind May's shoulder to where Peter was standing in mild astonishment.

Brooklyn wasted no time going over to hug Pete. Their embraces were always short and
sweet, and Peter's face tended to light up when they occurred. Not today. Today, May's
nephew kept his wide doe eyes on Damian.

The Wayne did not bother greeting Peter, only waited for Brooklyn to get back to his side so
they could take a seat a the table together.
While May was busy fussing over the dishes, going around the table to make sure all was in
order, she caught Peter whispering to Brook and Damian, "What are you guys doing here
together? Did something bad happen?"

Brooklyn sighed, a tired sound no teen should be having at that age.

"Not really. Damian is just waiting out the storm at my place. Has Ned reported any problems
in the city?"

May knew the kids took turns keeping the city safe, knew that after Peter's failed attempts at
a nap, he'd chosen to have his turn. Thankfully, there seemed to be nothing wrong.

That did nothing to ease Peter throughout the meal. He still looked puzzled between the two
teens as they ate, as they took care of the baby May had learned was named Rosa. Peter had
Fannie in his arms as well, but she could tell perhaps he wished to have his own partner there
to help.

Michelle, that was her name.

As May brought out the dessert, she noticed the three teens were huddled around Peter's
phone with determined frowns on their faces.

There was an attempted robbery downtown they said, something they'd take care of quickly.
So the three teens left the robotic babies in May's care while they changed into their hero
suits...because they weren't just teenagers...

May sat in the living room, in awe when Spider-man, Robin, and Firestar emerged where tire
teens had disappeared. All traces of the girl with a lilac jumpsuit who'd been joking about the
new security receptionist downstairs was gone, replaced by a hero in a thin gold metal suit
with electricity dancing on the black gauntlets of her wrists. There was no smile on what was
visible on her face, not as that red mask came on and her gaze seemed distracted by what she
saw in their screens. Trouble probably.

The polite and quiet boy in a black turtleneck was dressed in an intimidating black and red
suit, yellow cape billowing behind him as he stood by the window looking out into the mild
snowfall. With that green domino mask on, eye obscured by those white lenses, he looked
deadly, especially when he pulled his cape's hood in place that basked his face in shadows.
Those katanas strapped to his back were even more terrifying .

May had long since gotten used to seeing Peter go out in his suit, had been able to remember
the kind and gentle boy beneath. But standing next to the two masked teens, Spider-man
somehow looked stronger.

It hit May like a truck.

The world thought these heroes here adults, but in reality they were just kids burdened with
too much too soon. She wanted to ask them to stay, tell them it was too dangerous...but she
knew better than that.
She could stay and worry, but they knew how to take care of one another. The suits were
bulletproof, May reminded herself. Two of them were trained since birth, and Peter had those
super senses of his.

So she let them got out the window, watched as Robin and Spider-man swung to the next
building while Brook activated her suit to fly beside through the falling snow.

All May could do was hold onto the two babies in her arms, one dressed in a Star Wars sleep-
suit, the other in a plain red one.

She held them tight as the TV came to life with the news of said robbery. Again, all May
could do was watch as the three teens engaged into battle against guns that even through the
TV sounded like bombs going off. She tried not to flinch with every bullet fired, kept her
calm with mental reassurances in her brain.

While Brooklyn and Damian attacked, swords and gauntlets in place, Peter swung past the
falling snow to take care of enemies from a far with those webs of his.

She watched them flip, kick, punch....but also move away from their attacks to save passing
civilians. That was a busy part of town after all, even with a storm just past. The looming
buildings outside the New World Mall were never empty, and most people were more
concerned with getting photos or videos of the famed heroes than to get to safety.

May did not dare to breathe in peace until every single criminal was arrested, until the police
showed up and the kids left swinging and flying with flames in tow.

She couldn't help it. Every time she saw Peter in danger, May saw her dead husband, Peter's
parents too. The last thing she wanted was to have to burry him as well.

But he was in good hands, she realized.

Even when Damian pretended not to care, he'd still helped Peter dodge a few guys. Brooklyn
was always there when he needed her.

Maybe May's days of worrying could lessen from now on.

It was then that she finally leaned against the cushions, that she let the pride in their work
seep in. When they got back inside, she made sure to hug them all, even when Damian
seemed to flinch at the unexpected contact. She congratulated them, then proceeded to scold
them for the few injuries she'd seen them sustained.

As a nurse, it was in her blood to drag them to get those treated.

Peter always complained his injuries would just heal in minutes, but still let May fuss over
the bruise on his arm. May had let Brook and Damian take care of one another's injuries as
they had requested, she didn't bother to push to help.

Long ago, Peter had been crying himself to sleep when she returned from work, saying
Brooklyn was covered in wounds from her past, and that he'd never known it. Wrapped in
May's arms, Peter had sobbed about deep and painful whip marks across Brooklyn's back, of
bullet wounds with minor darkened dips, thin slashes from blades too.

When the Wayne pulled down the sleeve of Brook's suit to heal a cut from when she got
between a civilian and a criminal, the girl did not hide, she did not push Damian away. In
turn, she too healed his injuries, and from what May caught in the corner of her eye, he didn't
flinch either, looked calm as she placed medicine and bandages against some bruises from
bullet impacts that had bounced off the red armor on his chest.

May was the only one who did not say a word during the process, the teens were busy
discussing the weapons used, the path the criminals must've taken, even things she wouldn't
have noticed like the clothes they wore and the accents they had.

No detail was too small.

It made May wonder quite a few things, stuff she did not voice. At least she got some relief
those two teens were going back home with no risk of infected wounds, and she tucked their
gratitude into her heart, even as Peter watched them go back with a troubled look.

*******

Damian POV-

He'd have to leave in a few hours to be back home for the Monday off known as 'Wonder
Woman Day' since father wanted to go to spend it working at the Justice League
headquarters.

Maybe that is why he held onto Brooklyn a little more than last night, why he was conscious
of he recent injuries the way he knew she was of his as they stared up at her ceiling full of
stars.

Damian was certain that if his mother decided to try and kill Brooklyn (which he heavily
doubted), she'd be less inclined to do so when his beloved was back in the safety of the
Avengers compound tomorrow.

For now it was just the two of them, locked in an embrace under warm covers, something
Damian would've never thought he'd allow in his lifetime. He never imagined the warmth of
her body against his would be a soothing thing that could lure him to sleep.

It was peculiar how not long ago, this apartment was nothing more than enemy territory,
now...well now it felt like comfort of his own room back at the manor.

Damian would probably never admit it out loud, but seeing her smile in the mornings, the
first sight of the day...it filled him with an air of calm tranquility. He liked that the wide and
bright morning smile from her was directed at him, because of him.

No one had ever smiled so much at the sight of him before.

Damian knew his worth, knew he was better than most, but somehow Brooklyn's joy made
him feel wanted, cared for, cherished not for his skills or out of a sense of family duty like
others, but just because he was himself.

Emotions were tricky, his ego far too big at times, but in moments like these, Damian could
just relax and not think about the right thing to say or a way to keep his emotions in check.

"Thank you for staying with me" Brooklyn whispered agains his chest sleepily, grabbing one
of his hands to lay with her own against it.

Damian debated telling her he'd always be there for her, in times of danger and peace. This
'something more' they'd been testing out had proven to be more successful than he could've
ever imagined. It was like an expansion of their hard built friendship, and though his mind
sometimes escaped him when her lips were on his own, he was no longer hesitant or fearful
of the loss of control over his own emotions.

Robin feared nothing of course...except maybe loosing her to the one common enemy of the
world. Death.

Damian threaded his fingers through Brook's hair, hoping the motion was soothing to her the
way it was to him when she did it.

Keeping his voice quiet, he replied, "You shouldn't doubt that I would"

Brooklyn hummed, not minding when Goliath settled down more comfortably above the spot
where their feet were.

Goliath seemed to be forgetting he was from a race of the darkest pits in hell. Now he just
acted like an old house cat, jumping under the bedsheets when he and Brook tried to make
the bed that morning like it was a game.

Titus would surely throw a fit when he realized where Damian and Goliath (and not him) had
been for the past two days, that dog was too spoiled as well.

Damian slowly felt his beloved's head move, slowly to reach up and press a lingering kiss to
the edge of his jaw. He tried not to think about how much he cherished every bit of physical
contact with her, or how much he'd wanted to lock lips with her back in the Parker apartment
so Peter would stop staring at her.

He hadn't done so for two reasons aside from the obvious need for secrecy.

Fist, Brooklyn would've told him he was being jealous...which he wasn't.

Secondly, he was still trying to figure out what the line was between being like his mother
and being a decent partner. Upon all his research on relationships, Damian found out his
mother's constant behavior showed she though she owned father's affection. She cared for
him in a bad way, even if some true feelings were in there somewhere.

Damian didn't want to ruin this 'something more' by being possessive, even if Peter's stares
and those of the male student body and the world made Damian...unhappy.
He knew he and Brook were a team, that there was nothing but trust between one another. So
he wouldn't act rashly, but he still held her close in that moment, trying to chase away the
haunting image of Jon kissing Brooklyn.

As if reading his mind, his beloved said, "Your brain will start to smoke if you keep thinking
too much too quickly. We should sleep before Rosa wakes us up later so you can rest"

Damian knew she was right, still, he replied, "Mind if we stay awake a little longer? I just
want to be here with you"

It sounded stupid when he said it out loud, but Brooklyn didn't seem to mind as she snuggled
closer to him, as he ran his hand across her back, covered by one of his shirts that fit her a
little too big.

He'd smirked when she walked into the bathroom wearing one of his Wayne Enterprises
shirts, as she spun around a few times before saying, "No one will ever believe you if you tell
them the Stark heiress is wearing this"

No one would, and the memory of that made Damian smile slightly, especially since no one
would believe Brook if she said the Wayne heir had been wearing a pair of her fuzzy socks
with colorful polkadots.

So they stayed up a little longer, not having to say a thing until their eyes closed, their
weekend gone along with it. Still, despite the odd circumstance that brought them together,
maybe mother coming to Brook had not been all bad in the end.
 Fury's Angels

Brooklyn POV-

Getting called in to Fury's office was more terrifying that one would think.

Brook had been in the middle of her archery training with Uncle Clint when an agent had
delivered the message with shaking hands and a wide eyed look.

Was Fury unsatisfied with the hero work she'd been doing? Had he figured out she'd shown
SHIELD records to her team? Did he know Brook was trying to hack into both Yelena's and
Ivan's files to see if their blood work matched?

There were so many reasons to get called in by Fury, and none of them seemed good.

This is definitely not how she wanted to spend Wonder Woman Day....

Thankfully, when she was guided to his office, Brooklyn saw she wasn't the only called out
of training. Nat was there, and so was Yelena.

Brook took a seat on Natasha's right side, all three of them staring silently at Fury, who stood
behind his desk, covered in shadows.

Maybe this was about the Red Room...or worse, maybe Ivan had already escaped. It seemed
improbable, but nothing was ever out of the question where Ivan was concerned.

Fury interrupted her worst case scenarios by bringing the holograms on the table to life. They
didn't depict Ivan or any known Red Room individuals. It was a town off the coast of Italy
named Positano. It looked peaceful enough, the live feed depicting a peaceful city full of
meandering people, pastel colored houses perched on mountains, an array of boats on the
coast, a massive sea beyond.

Brook looked up to Fury with a raised brow, but said nothing. In cases like these, Brook and
Yelena were probably in agreement that letting Natasha do the talking would be best. They
could sit on the sidelines, soak up the information they were given.

In the darkness of the room Fury said, "You three are here because I have a mission in which
your particular talents may be of use. I don't want a mass of well recognized Avengers on the
case, not when I need stealth"

Brooklyn almost argued that she was almost as famous as Nat was, but she knew that if the
situation called for it, the two could disappear without a trace. But....Fury already had stealth
operatives from SHIELD. Why them?

"Yelena is not yet cleared for such missions by SHIELD regulations" Nat said, a brilliant
point Brook hadn't even considered after all the hero work the two widows had done recently.

Fury simply raised a holographic badge, displaying it into the screen beside him.
Yelena's profile came up, one with her birthday, new name, plus her hero and criminal status.
Highly dangerous, it said.

But...also cleared for level five missions.

"She is now" Fury replied, turning that remaining eye towards Yelena as he added, "I expect
you to implement all your SHIELD training agent, follow the rules of the book. Actually that
goes for you and Agent Stark, both of you must follow protocol, and Natasha's lead. She calls
the shots tonight."

She could see it in Yelena's eyes, the shock of being trusted with a mission. Trusted to not run
away. Trusted to succeed and being good. Brooklyn had once felt that same shock, and it felt
like a step towards moving away from the past.

The Stark wished she could send a congratulatory smile her sestra's way, but all she could do
for now was watch as she accepted the terms with a newfound sense of hope. Being cleared
this far into training was a great sign. If this mission went well, she might even be cleared for
other things, like the motorcycle she'd always wanted, and an apartment near Brook's like
she'd requested.

That of course depended on what the hell they were supposed to do in Positano.

Fury was not a man who cherished wasting time, so after the little announcement, the
holographic screens behind him got rid of Yelena's records to show profiles of eight men, a
route by the coast of the city, and a few electronic files yet to be opened.

He was no doubt about to explain just why he wanted them in Italy when the office door flew
open, revealing Brook's dad and Uncle Rhodey.

Dad didn't bother with hellos as he stormed up to Fury without the usual swagger and
confidence he loved to flaunt. Even Uncle Rhodey seemed upset, but that might just be
because he lost the UNO game this morning.

"Are you kidding me Nick? Why did FRIDAY just so casually inform me there was a secret
meeting here with my daughter? I already know you secretly took her to see that son of a
bitch Ivan, we'll talk about that later of course, but now you have her here behind my back
again? SHE'S MY DAUGHTER!" Dad said, moving to stand just inches from an impassive
Fury.

The one eyed wonder just replied, "She's also an agent of SHIELD, Tony. As I recall, it is I
who has jurisdiction over all agents, correct? If you want to stay here and learn about the top
secret mission no one should know about then you may, but its not your choice to have
Brooklyn decline or accept it"

Before dad could bring out a suit, Uncle Rhodey grabbed onto his arm and the two sat down
beside Brook. Dad shot Brook an exasperated look, to which she moved to hold his hand in
what she hoped was a comforting matter. It always worked with Damian after all.
Looking annoyed by the interruption, Fury proceeded to call two agents to guard the door,
then continued his explanation with a hand pointing at the profiles of the men, some mug
shots, others barely notable street camera shots.

"Our intelligence following the black market alien-technology distribution shows that there
will be a gathering for interested buyers, hosted by the Joker's...investor"

Possibly the person in-charge of all this...

Nat nodded in understanding, but still asked, "Why not send the HUMINT unit to do this?"

HUMINT, a term Brooklyn had leaned in her SHIELD crash-course to becoming an agent.
Nat was right, the Human Intelligence were trained for well...intelligence collection. They
reported to the Special Reconnaissance Team when it came to secret missions in other
countries.

They should be the ones being sent.

Fury rested his palms on the table, not quite whispering as he explained, "These people are
very good at evading discovery from us, which is why I'm inclined to believe someone here
is working with them, for profit or malice I'm not sure. But SHIELD has been infiltrated once
before, I won't risk this mission on that possibility of it happening again"

Brook tried to not shudder. The compound was her home, a safe space, the last thing she
wanted was to know the Joker of whoever his boss was, had people on the inside reporting
their secrets.

Fury then motioned to the hologram before them, the one depicting a special route that led to
an old archeological museum.

"Your job is to go to this 'convention', stay in the shadows and report back all you find. If you
have the chance to apprehend the enemy, do so. If you are attacked or discovered, try to keep
them alive for questioning. A jet will drop you off twenty miles from the target location. You
are to blend in. All communication devices will be unavailable in case of discovery, you'll be
on your own. Is that clear?" Fury asked.

Brook looked to her sisters, they all shared a silent agreement.

Brooklyn had never gone on a mission with Nat, which seemed like a great learning
opportunity. Ivan had mentioned Brook had to tap into her past to figure out what was going
on, what better way to do that than an espionage mission?

Before any of them could agree, dad got to his feet despite Uncle Rhodey's muffled
disagreements.

"A field mission? Really Fury? They're not Charlie's Angels, two of them are just kids!" dad
yelled, his hold on Brook's hand tightening ever so slightly.

Brook was thinking of pleading her case, but was interrupted by Fury's dark and sarcastic
laughter, a sound she was sure came straight from the scariest parts of hell.
"Tony, the kids spent a good chunk of their lives training for this stuff. They've become
heroes in Queens and are doing great in their training. Brooklyn and Yelena are both ready
for this"

Dad looked like he might argue again, but Brook was determined to go on this mission, not
just for the benefits for Yelena or the haunting words of Ivan, but because Fury was right.
Brooklyn was an agent, and this was the job she was getting payed for.

Ending this weapons business was the center of her life at the moment, and this might help
get closer to that goal. Brook wasn't afraid, not with her sestras going along as well.

Ivan was a piece of shit, but he had trained them to be the best of the best.

So Brook stood from her chair, sent a confident smile to her dad before turning to the man
dressed in black.

"I'm in, Director"

Nat and Yelena were quick to reply their own affirmations, along with Nat assuring dad he
had nothing to worry about as long as she was there. That seemed to ease him at last, enough
so that he only mumbled worries as she, mom, dad, and Harley sat down in the living room to
watch some TV before the jet arrived.

Yelena was there too, both of girls in their SHIELD suits, Brook's grey while Yelena's was
white.

Yelena and dad no longer fought, and had in fact learned a bit of trust between one another
during the holidays, which is how the blonde was able to sit on the floor before Brooklyn as
she braided her sestra's blonde locks for their mission. Dad had actually taken the chance to
try and braid some of Yelena's hair as well, neither of them seemed to mind.

Mom and dad had actually been making an effort to include Yelena in more family things
since the holidays, which were a first for both Brook and her sestra.

Brooklyn was always grateful for that, especially because Yelena seemed to be more
comfortable with it now.

Thankfully, mom had not objected for too long when she found out about the mission from
dad, not when she heard Nat was going. Pepper still held Brook in an embrace though, one
that soothed Brook's own nerves from what she considered to be her first official mission.

Harley was by dad's side, hugging him tight because Iron man would be leaving for Canada's
border in a few hours as well for his own dealings against alien technology.

The five of them sat through an episode of The Nanny, mom's favorite show. This was
Yelena's first time watching it, her first time being allowed at a 'Stark family Afternoon' as
dad liked to call them.

Brook was glad to see Yelena laughing along to the jokes, keeping up with the commentary
from mom and dad and even Harley's harmless jokes.
In honor of the two girls leaving for their first mission, mom had brought over little bins of
ice cream for everyone, which turned out to be Yelena's first taste of the frozen treat. Brook
recalled her own first try of ice cream with her family, smiled as she saw Yelena's happiness
at the Iron Man named flavor.

Mom must've been feeling sentimental, or perhaps nervous, because she snapped a few
photos with Brook's camera of the occasion as well.

By the time FRIDAY called them up to the landing zone, Brook held on to each embrace for
a little longer than usual. She was not naive to think this mission was a guaranteed success,
that death was not possible.

So she hugged her parents tight, promised to be back in time for school tomorrow.

She hugged a shaking Harley the longest, let his tears soak the gray fabric of her suit for a bit.
The she reached into one of the hidden compartments in it for a weapon. It was just a simple
dagger, not vibranium or anything, but it had an hourglass carved into the hilt.

Harley stared at it in confusion.

"Do you know what that symbol means?" she asked, kneeling before her brother seated on
the couch as he pointed at the red hourglass at the center of her belt.

"I means me, and Yelena, and Aunt Nat" Brook said, placing a dagger cover on the blade so
Harley wouldn't accidentally hurt himself, "Keep this to remember our strength, that we will
come back before you know it"

Harley had not looked this upset since Brook had come back from Bermuda, and she hated to
see him like this, one of the many things she hated about leaving on this mission. But it had
to be done, and this was what Brooklyn was good at after all.

Brook saw Harley clutch the dagger close, then whispered to her, "Ok, you promised. I'll see
you at school tomorrow then, both of you, right?"

When Brooklyn looked over her shoulder, she noticed Yelena was momentarily stunned by
her mention, but nodded to the concerned boy in affirmation.

As she pulled her little brother into one more hug, Brook realized Yelena was busy being
embraced by mom, who was pleading her to be careful. Dad seemed to forget about all the
threats he'd once made to the blonde as he pulled her in for a hug as well, making some
comment Brooklyn couldn't quite hear, but she did see Yelena smile at.

After triple checking their weapons and devices, both girls hauled plain duffle bags over their
shoulders, looking around the Avengers lounging area one more time before making their
way out into the hall with one last wave at Brook's family.

Once in the elevator, Brook dared to ask, "What did my dad tell you earlier?"

Yelena was quiet for a second, eyes on the passing floors below as she said with a shy smile,
"That I had to remember two things. One, that I was a hero now and nothing less. The
second...that I have a family to return to who will worry every second I'm gone"

Brooklyn didn't know why she felt a sob bubble up from inside her. She wasn't sure if dad
just offered to adopt Yelena (which Brooklyn would love since she considered the blonde
family already) or if he meant the Avengers were her family.

Thing was, dad often made bold comments, but when it came to family, he didn't mess
around.

Either way, Yelena seemed close to tears at either option, especially since not long ago at the
Briar Rose Cafe, she'd admitted to being afraid of being alone without a family of her own.

Brook knew Yelena was still working through some boundaries, but still she reached for her
sestra's gloved hand and entertained it with her own. Yelena did not hesitate to grab onto it,
and the two smiled at one another, knowing they would have time to figure it all out when
they came back.

As they made it to the landing zone atop the compound, which was covered in snow despite
the afternoon sun, Brooklyn pulled out her phone for a second, finally sending those
messages she'd pre-written earlier.

One for the group chat mentioning where she and Yelena were going, along with the code to
activate their trackers should anything go wrong.

The second was for the private chat with Damian, in which she wrote a simple message.

I'll come back to you, whatever it takes.

She didn't wait to see the replies as she handed the phone to Fury, who stood on the platform
with Natasha by his side. He took it with a frown, but promised to take it back to her room
either way.

Thats when the three widows got into the jet, with a packet of files notes each to inspect on
the flight. Each with their code names for the mission.

Nat's was obviously the Black Widow.

Yelena's as the Crimson Widow.

...and Brook's as the Sterling Widow (A code name in case there was a spy inside SHIELD.
Knowing a Stark was involved would be all kinds of bad).

Black, Red, Grey. Not just the colors of the Red Room, but the colors of the three sisters.

Before inspecting the contents on her own folder, Brooklyn reached for the weapon hidden
on her left hip. It was a dagger of eastern style. Sleek and sharp. Engraved on the hilt was a
small R, branding it as Robin's. She'd earned on what she liked to think as her and Damian's
first mission together, going to that factory in Gotham to stop the Joker.

She'd never been asked to give it back, and now she carried it as a comfort.
Brook would make it back...she had to.

Seated before her in the elegant table, Yelena was already frowning at the civilian clothes left
for them to put over their suits, and the two at least had a few seconds to laugh as they
assembled outfits from what they were given.

Nat had thrown a water bottle at them when hey handed her a horrendous purple scarf to
wear, and that was the last laugh they had before getting serious for what was ahead.

Brook just hoped all would be well enough for her to keep her promises.

******

"I have eyes on three of the targets" Yelena said, using the scope of her rifle to see the people
going into the building question two blocks away.

Brook was looking though her own scope at the southern entrance of the building, leaning on
her belly on the dirty roof of a restaurant as she aimed the rifle for a clear view, noting one of
the targets going in through there.

Nat was down below in a stunning blue dress, blonde hair spread out across the fur scarf
covering her chest. She was making her way inside the building, flashing the ID and
invitation Fury had secured for her.

With the help of one of her golden earnings, Nat was able to communicate with them thanks
to the hidden communication device in it. The two teens heard loud an clear in their own com
devices as Nat whispered, "I'm in"

Time for Brooklyn to work for a living...

With a nod to Yelena, Brook handed over her own rifle, making sure her raincoat and scarf
covered her suit perfectly before using a rope to make it down the five story building into a
lone alleyway.

The Stark kept to the afternoon shadows as she made it the few blocks to the unsuspecting
museum. She avoided all the cameras she and the others had spotted on their way over,
making sure that for those she couldn't ignore, her back was towards them, her hood and
glasses a small backup just in case she'd missed a camera or two.

To all the tourists and townspeople, nothing seemed amiss. Most were engaging in an
afternoon meal by the docks, others prancing around with shopping bags in hand. Everyone
was smiling, even the pets on leashes seemed to be having the time of their lives.

As Brook made her way down the rustic cobblestone walkway, she couldn't help but to recall
Goliath's bat ears tended to flutter when he was given a belly scratch when she beheld a few
pets asking for attention. It was an odd thing to focus on during a mission, but part of
Brooklyn was well aware how far away from home she really was.

She had a lot to miss now after all.

As Brooklyn made a show of buying cotton candy from a street vendor, she made a mental
count of all the guards around the town square. They looked like normal civilians, dressed as
such at least. Brook could easily spot the poorly trained idiots who were too tense, looking
around far too much to be normal.

There were three in the small cafe beside the museum, well into their fifth cups of coffee
much to the distress of the waitress. Two of them lingered by the railings looking down into
the docks, pretending to engage in a romantic evening staring at the sunset.

Eight of them stood in various spots around the fountain at the center of the square.
Coincidentally, the large fountain depicted none other than the six Avengers that defended
New York. Why that statue was here of all places? Brook would have to look into it, even
when she suspected most cities around the globe held similar forms of thanks for saving the
world.

The sight of Iron Man was comforting, but she couldn't linger on it too much.

After paying for her cotton candy, Brooklyn took a few bites of the treat, using it as an excuse
to sneak a glance at Yelena, still covering them from above, barely visible to the naked eye.

A simple fixing of her sunshades was enough to let Yelena know all was well, but there were
more than a dozen enemies around them.

Careful of her brown wig, Brook made to stand by a street stall selling hats, using the
provided mirrors to make sure no suspicious eyes were on her. There weren't any.

The vendor briefly distracted Brook's inspection by asking, "Ti interessa quel cappello,
signorina?"

Brooklyn wasn't interested in the hat in her hands, she was interested in the crimes across the
square. Still she put on a pink lipped smile and replied, "È bellissimo, dovrò chiedere a mio
marito di comprarmelo più tardi"

It's beautiful, I'll have to ask my husband to buy it later for me.

It had been quite a few years since she'd used Italian, but once Ivan taught you something, it
was hell trying to forget it. At least his intensive teachings came in useful sometimes.

The vendors smiled, his crooked teeth showing as he encouraged Brooklyn to return
whenever she wished.

Brook made a show of fondly setting down the hat, moving to the fountain like many other
tourists and children who took to throwing coins in it for wishes. Brooklyn didn't understand
if they thought the Avengers displayed on the statues above would grant said wishes or if
they thought the act itself would appease some god out there.

Either way, Brook reached into her coat pocket she fished out a golden colored 50 cent euro
and dropped it into the fountain just as Nat said through the coms, "The event is starting, all
targets located. Boss is yet to arrive"
Making to take a bite out of her sugary treat, Brook asked, "How many people are in there?"

Nat did not hesitate to reply, ""Eighty two. Twenty are clearly involved in this, but there is so
much booze and drugs here that some might be too drunk for me to identify"

As expected.

No one with enough money to close up a museum for a day would host a poor event.

Just as Brook was about to make her way to the cafe, the sound of Nat's purse mic came on,
and suddenly the teen could hear all the buzz and and excitement around sestra inside the
large cathedral-like building.

It all went quiet for a second, before a distorted voice spoke up.

It was male, hard to identify an age or nationality thanks to the distortion, and since Nat
hadn't identified the individual, it meant he was either not there in person...or was properly
disguised.

The double tapping from Nat against the purse mic only confirmed the latter.

The disguised man introduced himself in English as someone named Cobalus. He took credit
for the distribution of all weapons, of the recent crimes across the globe, and of being in
control of most of the underground world like the assassins guilds and the Joker.

It almost sounded too good to be true.

This was the person Ivan and Talia spoke of....

Nat must've been close, because Brooklyn could hear it loud and clear as he spoke of the
promise of wealth for their cause. Its purpose...to destroy of false heroes. His hatred for said
heroes was no small thing. He shamelessly swore to destroy the Avengers, SHIELD, The
Fantastic 4, The Justice League, The Titans...even the 'rumored' X-men.

He promised power, land, revenge, and most of all...he promised blood.

Brook had to sit down on the edge of the fountain as she took it all in, hearing Yelena curse
on her end at the words.

In another life, the three widows might've found joy in hearing those words, might be in there
with Ivan with proper invitation. It was a chilling thought.

Nat spoke to investors and buyers with confidence, sticking to using German as her cover
dictated. She shared her agreement at the words spoken, laughed with them at the misery that
awaited the heroes, unaware that the Black Widow (a target of theirs apparently) was among
them.

What made Brooklyn want to throw herself in the fountain was when this so called Cobalus
mentioned something big was coming, something that would change the tide of this silent
war forever.
Nat said suddenly, "There are too many enemies, I'm making my way back to you so we can
report this information. Stay put"

Brook obeyed, knowing this was enough risks taken as much as she wanted to go in there and
throw a dagger at the man in-charge, just between his eyes for good measure.

That's what Ivan would command, not Fury.

While she fought the image of causing a satisfactory death, something must've gone wrong
inside. One second all was well, the next Brook heard screaming, fighting, and Nat's
command.

"Otzyvat' "

One single Russian command. Withdraw.

That meant they were discovered. Brook sprung into action, giving the signal to Yelena with
a simple removal of her sun glasses. In seconds, a series of colorful fireworks went off
nearby. Bright enough to attract the attention of civilians, and loud enough to mask the noise
that would come next.

As expected, none of the secret security lingered on the fireworks, they were busy receiving
information on their com devices, getting ready to cover all exists so Nat would be trapped.

Brook pulled out a small silencer from her coat, one not loaded with bullets, but sleeping
darts with enough juice to knock out an elephant. She knew her aim was good enough to hit
true as she tuned to all the men and women she'd spotted around the square, firing round after
round in the now empty space with Yelena hitting a few marks from up above.

They fell in seconds, obliviously to the people crowding a few steps away, who's eyes were
too busy in the fireworks the widows had planted. Brook didn't bother to hide the bodies,
they'd attract the attention of the police, hopefully creating a headache for the man inside the
museum.

Instead she moved towards the line of cars across the street, quickly finding an inconspicuous
car to hot-wire.

Yelena arrived minutes later with Nat in tow, both firing their own weapons to their pursuers
from inside the museum as the car finally came to life.

As soon as Nat opened the driver's door, it managed to block some bullets meant for her legs.
Brooklyn quickly jumped to the back seat, letting Yelena claim shotgun, considering she was
the one holding one.

Nat wasted no time setting the car in reverse as the bullets began to fly. It didn't matter that
they hit the car parked behind, all that mattered was Natasha swerving the car to drive down
the mountainous roads.

Neither teen bother to ask how they'd been discovered, they kept their calm instead. Brooklyn
was assembling a rifle in the back seat while Yelena stuck her head out the window to asses
their six o'clock.

"Two cars are tailing us, two others moved to cut us off" Yelena announced, ducking back
into the old Ferrari before a stray bullet could travel through her head.

"They're shooting at us and we're stuck driving in this eighty year old car. What's the plan
exactly?" Yelena asked, sticking out her shotgun, firing from inside using the rearview
mirror.

It was just as they passed over a speed bump at high speed that Nat made a 90 degree turn to
another street, leaving a chaos of traffic in their wake.

Never mind that they'd almost collided with two cars, the black Volvo that had been trying to
cut them off had made it past the traffic jam and was now behind them. Brooklyn wasted no
time taking off her restricting coat and scarf, placing her shotgun comfortably on a shoulder,
legs spread out over the back seat for balance as she shot a few rounds at the windshield
behind them.

Her vibranium-dissolving darts hit their mark just before the car made a turn, leaving the
Volvo to crash against the sidewalk. Brook fought the urge to hoot in victory, even as the
wind from the holes she'd made on the glass tangled her brown hair in all directions.

Nat made another sharp turn towards a down-sloping road as she explained, "We have a jet
waiting eight miles out, so we ditch the car soon, stick to the streets"

Brooklyn balked at the sight behind her, turning to her sestras to say, "I think that might be a
little difficult considering we have an armada of black cars trailing us. Seems our new friend
doesn't appreciate our visit"

Both turned to the rearview mirror, cursing like their old instructors at the sight.

Nat swerved past traffic, even going as far as talking the empty pedestrian streets to put more
distance between them and the cars behind. But the pursuers knew the city better, managing
to cut them off quite a few times.

They were harder to shake when men in motorcycles came into play, surrounding the car two
on each side.

Brook did not bother to hesitate as she threw her coat at one of them, watching the person in
black crash to the floor, tangled in the fabric. The next, the one by Natasha's widow, that one
she sent a dart to.

It hit him straight in the neck, just under his helmet, sending him down the road too.

On the other side of the vehicle, Yelena was pushing back a gun from her face. She used her
bo staff to knock someone against the parked cars, then shot the other despite the way the
wind moved strands of her black wig to cover her line of sight.

A girl who couldn't shoot without seeing was not one of Ivan's trainees after all.
Thanks to the down slope of the street, the car was picking up speed. Unfortunately, that
made it harder for Nat to control their old vehicle. Oh how she missed the comforts of
Roscoe....

In no time, their limited knowledge of the city had them surrounded with black cars parked
all around them. With the narrowness of the streets, there wasn't much they could do, but
Brook kept her composure, trusting Nat to find a solution.

It turned out, Nat's solution was to yell at her and Yelena to grab onto something as she set
the shift to reverse.

Brooklyn tried to keep her rifle pointed at the mass of cars behind them, but she knew her
one rifle couldn't possibly compare to the eight pointed at her.

She was sure this old piece of junk would fold in on itself if it crashed at this speed, and just
when the cars behind grew nearer, the car suddenly did an unexpected maneuver. Nat moved
the car sideways, letting the tires skid on the road. Then she rushed back in reverse though a
thin alleyway, something likely meant for bikes.

Their own vehicle barely fit between the two rows of pastel colored buildings, but Brook
couldn't help but smirk at the sound of angry assassins trying to follow them on foot.

Yelena was already hollering, which sent Brook and Nat into a few chuckles before they all
became serious again as bullets began to fly from both the front and back of the road.
Brooklyn did her best to cover Nat from the back just as she was sure Yelena was doing in
the front.

Strangely enough, Brooklyn still wasn't scared. She wasn't particularly happy with this
situation, but she had a clear goal in mind, they had to leave this place.

The sound of the car skidding through the stone pathways was enough for pedestrians to rush
towards nearby doors to avoid being trampled, and Brook felt a pang of guilt at the sight in
between bullets shot out of their path by her.

Nat continued to maneuver them through as best she could, but eventually Brook was
running out of bullets to take down the motorcycles, one shout from Yelena confirmed the
same on her end.

Brook tried to get creative with her hand guns, using what was left of her darts to take out
some of the guys who thought they could take the three widows down. It had been a long
time since she felt a rush like this. That wasn't really a good or bad thing.

By the time they finally made it out of the narrow alleyway and into the buzzing traffic,
Brook only had a pair of daggers, one from Robin and the other made of vibranium. Yelena
was already getting her bo staff ready to knock down some motorcycles on their flanks, too
busy to hear Nat's command to take the wheel.

As Nat moved out her window to go up on the car and make use of her loaded weapons, so
Brooklyn had to discard her rifle in seconds, then rushed forward onto the driver's seat before
the car could swerve towards civilians.

She tried to recall all she'd been taught...after all, she'd driven successfully once before.

Brook pushed the stray brown hairs clinging to the slight perspiration on her forehead,
focusing on driving past the cars that were actually following the speed limit.

When Yelena finished her tasks, leaving screams of others in the wake, she raised a brow at
the new driver.

"I thought you were zhalkiy when it came to driving? When did you learn?" she said, putting
a little emphasis on the pathetic part.

Brook swerved past a truck, hands gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline.

She avoided mentioning Damian's name and the night of Flash's halloween party when Nat
shouted down at them, "Go faster!"

The Stark let Nat shoot down the criminals who'd stopped before the car, swerving around
their unconscious bodies before cranking up the speed. That's when she realized they were
heading straight for the docks.

"This is a fucking disaster!" Yelena yelled over the sound of rushing winds.

Brook felt compelled to agree, but Nat remained calm and yelled down, "Not necessarily.
Because of our exposed infiltration, masses of that magnitude won't trust to meet. I have
names and faces of a few of them, once they're arrested others will cower and remove their
loyalty. If we make it out, besting this guy's forces, then it will serve as a show that we are
strong enough not to be messed with, even if they don't know who we are"

Well...she wasn't wrong there. Now all they had to do was live by the looks of it.

Dodging bullets, ignoring screams, and cursing the idiot that shot one of their wheels,
Brooklyn couldn't help but wonder just how powerful the guy they pissed off truly was.

Thankfully, Nat made it back inside to take over the wheel. She didn't slow down or change
direction, just pressed a pager before mentioning she too was out of bullets.

Just after Brook ducked in between the footrest, glass exploded to her left, and she heard
more than saw a car getting closer to them from behind.

Too close by the sounds of it.

With their busted tire, Nat had to keep from dangerous 'Fast and Furious' maneuvers. They
were like sitting ducks waiting to be exploded. So Brook did something stupid...

After a simple request for Nat to keep the speed constant, Brook used the metal of her arm
covering to get rid of the back glass, jumping back into the trunk despite the pointed weapons
and shouts from her sestras.
As the wind whipped around her hair and the passing streets became nothing more than a
blur, Brooklyn glared at the idiots inside the car trailing them, before letting go of the car and
jumping onto theirs.

The landing was less the graceful, but she'd managed to stay on long enough to embed her
vibranium knife into the hood, even as the car swerved, Brook remained kneeling before the
men, using Damian's curved dagger to pierce their windshield.

Amidst the flying glass and screams, Brook made quick work of round-kicking off their
steering wheel, watching their panic at the object in the driver's hands for a few seconds
before grabbing her weapons and jumping back into the Ferrari.

Just as she crouched into the trunk, the pursuing vehicle swerved uncontrollably onto a street
light post, leaving the trail of cars behind it to be stranded.

Yelena made quick work of helping Brooklyn back inside, and Nat didn't bother to reprimand
the action as the continued hobbling down the road.

"Do we ditch the car now?" Brook asked while getting tossed around the backseat.

Nat shook her head.

"We need to put mileage between us and the people who are trying to make us roadkill" she
explained, driving until they made it to an ocean side road with a metal fence on the side to
keep cars from tipping down 40 feet to the beach.

Thats where more motorcycles caught up to them, this time not bothering to get close as they
shot at the remaining tires from behind. Their back view was obscured by a lucky shot that
sent their trunk lid open.

When Nat instructed they jump out of the vehicle, Brook didn't even hesitate, ramming her
arm against the left door, pulling Yelena close as she jumped back towards her.

As Nat let her own doors absorb the contact with the road, Brook and Yelena did as well,
huddling close as the motorcycles passed by them.

High on adrenaline, Brook barely registered parting with the door or their borrowed vehicle
crashing down the slope of the mountain. She only got her daggers ready to pounce when the
idiots rounded back into the empty road.

Nat and Yelena were already by her side, and though she was surprised their disguises had
lingered, Brook had little time to be grateful as she jumped up to tackle one of the idiots out
of his motorcycle.

They dealt with the five guys quickly enough without having to kill them, and getting ready
to leave on the motorcycles until they heard it....a helicopter.

"Please tell me thats one of ours" Yelena asked, looking up at the military grade beast loaded
with guns, heading straight for them.
Even in the motorcycles, they wouldn't be able to escape that thing thanks to the narrow
road...

It was only made worse when another came from the south of the city, then one from the east.
They were flying low enough that the tree widows were clearly the target, as if they wanted a
closer shot to end it all without big spectacle.

Nat suddenly clutched Brook's elbow.

"Use it. Use the fire, Rosa" Nat commanded.

Brooklyn was left with a mouth agape.

These past few weeks she'd only used it for small things like flying or scaring criminals, but
to truly let the fire run to that kind of scale was still something Brook refused to experiment
with.

Nat must've seen the hesitation in her eyes, because she said, "We don't have another way
out, shoot them down, sestra"

Brook looked at the two widows, their eyes on the nearing helicopters as if they'd try to fight
if the Stark refused to use the fire.

Shit...

It was with shaky fingers that Brook removed her grey gloves, focusing on Xavier's advice to
keep a strong hold on that anchor.

She through of Damian stuck with the Justice League today as he'd mentioned he'd be. He
imagined the teen who had no trouble glaring at some of the most powerful beings in the
world, yet held her so gently at night.

She slowly let the fire out, like she was opening a bottle of soda, doing so slowly so it
wouldn't explode. She did as Professor Jean had once suggested, visualizing the fire
spreading where she wanted it.

First her hands, then her arms...slowly coming out in almost smoke like wisps.

Brooklyn felt the heat manifest, felt that fire light up her eyes.

Some part of her was glad Fury had thought to make this suit fireproof, because as the fire
expanded across her arms, she felt it come alive hotter than ever.

Control.

Control.

Brook tuned out the sound of helicopter blades, of waves crashing down below. She closed
her eyes instead, thinking of the people behind her, her sisters who were depending on
Brooklyn to hold the fire together.
So she did.

It felt like she was fighting a tug-of-war with the power, but Brook held it in place, long
enough to open her eyes, locking the positions of the helicopters in her mind.

In seconds, she raised her hands. The fire expanded out, shooting up like a beam of light
straight for the turbines.

One. Two. Three.

As they all went down, Brook was glad the idiots were smart enough to parachute out, the
comfort of no lives taken was like a cushion as she tried to shove the fire back into herself.

The flames were circling her, pulsing. They wanted more, they wanted freedom.

Brooklyn crouched on the hard gravel floor, keeping her eyes shut as she groaned at the effort
of trying to withdraw the power.

She fought the fire in her mind, focused on Damian's rare smiles, on the small flames she
summoned for Goliath, harmless and bright. Brook tried not to scream at the effort of pushing
back so much fire, instead thinking of the morning pancakes from Sunday she and Dami
hadn't burned, of the way his hands soothed her scarred back, the little tune she caught
Damian humming to Rosa while putting in the laundry.

If he were here, he wouldn't be afraid. Damian would reach out to her knowing the flames
would recede at his touch. So she imagined he was here, standing before her on the road,
keeling down to cup her cheek.

One second the flames were there, the next, only the ones in her eyes remained, slowly
vanishing as Brook turned to face her worried sisters. As soon as the fire was gone, they knelt
before her, ignoring the helicopters crashing into the ocean and the sounds of mocking
seagulls above or the explosions below.

Nat asked softly, "Are you ok? Got it under control?"

Brook nodded as best she could, finding she was exhausted from the display.

Because of that exhaustion, Nat and Yelena helped Brook walk down the road, and by the
time they reached the town again, she was able to stand enough to put on the change of
clothes Nat purchased for them.

They made it to the recon point with little trouble after keeping to the shadows, watching the
police arrest those left in the wake of their escape.

It wasn't until Brooklyn was back on the jet, with Yelena shoving a water bottle her way and
Nat leaving to report instructions for the pilot that she sighed in relief.

"Not bad for a first mission right?" she joked, to which the teen seated before her kicked her
in the legs for.
"I'll feel better once we get back home" Yelena replied.

Brooklyn actually felt her exhaustion and headache take a pause at the words.

Yelena had never called the compound her home before....

She seemed flushed by the words, almost like she was debating taking them back as if she'd
said something Brook would be pissed at.

Before Yelena could, Brooklyn said, "Once we get home, I propose some 'thank goodness we
didn't die' ice cream"

The blonde smiled, actually smiled. Broad and unrestrained.

"Yeah" she replied, sinking back into her seat cushions, eyes closed and that smile remaining
as she added, "Ice cream sounds good, sestra"

She let Yelena rest her legs atop Brook's lap, did not bother waking her up at any time during
the flight. Instead she busied her mind on processing all that had happened like a true agent.

Nat was seated beside her across the aisle, mentioning she was caught when a secret hand
sign was preformed. A way to fish out unwanted guests. It didn't matter really, not with all
the information they had to take back.

Brooklyn realized she finally had a name to the criminal everyone spoke of but didn't know.
Someone named Cobalus was planning something, and he seemed all too confident of his
victory for comfort, even when he had challenged heroes, gods...the strongest in the world.

Just as she felt the jet begin its ascent, Brook wrapped a blanket over her body as she closed
her eyes at last, swearing she heard Nat whisper a congratulatory sentence to both her and
Yelena.

Brook fell asleep grateful they were all alive, but also that at least, now they had a name for
their enemy....

It was always good to know who you were fighting.

 The Kent Farm's Visitors

Brooklyn POV-

Even though Yelena and Brooklyn were sworn to secrecy by Fury on everything that
occurred in Italy, logically, the two teens told their team everything.

They left out most of the parts were they almost died, focusing less on the pursuit and more
on the information they found.

Of course they'd only been able to speak of it during patrols, bits and pieces revealed thanks
to their busy school schedules. For some reason, teachers had decided their pity over their
parenting assignments would not stop them from having a week full of exams. That paired
with patrols and other responsibilities left very little space to sit everyone down and have a
conversation about the mission the two widows had been sent to.

At least everyone had been eased to have them back at school the day after. Damian had even
gone as far as to ask Brook to head out to the hall during English class so they could sneak to
the Janitor's closet they might as well call their own at this point.

He'd held her in a strong embrace in the darkness, not having to voice his worry when his
actions spoke volumes. Brooklyn had hugged him with such intensity as well, thanking him
for anchoring her even in his absence.

At the time, he hadn't understood what she meant, but as she shared the use of her powers
(which she'd thankfully recovered from quite quickly), Damian had suggested she go easy on
using them this week.

Brook had used the fire just enough for civilians to recall she was a mutant, but kept it to a
minimum. It had been a careful line of control, but now that her body was no longer
exhausted, she could technically go back to using it as much as she used to.

That didn't mean she wasn't exhausted mentally...

Because of the heavy schedules and exhaustion, Jon had come up with a genius plan for all of
them to spend a day without having to watch their backs or spend all day at the Briar Rose
cafe, restricted by its windowless space.

Jon had proposed the one place that was a neutral ground for them all.

The Kent Farm.

He'd been very crafty with his words, suggesting they all ask for permission for a weekend
sleepover at his grandma's to celebrate success in the exams. Brook would not mention
Damian was going, Damian would keep from mentioning there would be anyone other than
Jon...and Harry would conveniently leave out mentioning a weekend in the company of a
Wayne to his dad.
Mom and dad didn't know specifics of what happened during the mission, only that the three
widows had come back unharmed and they'd acquired information. Dad had seen the Italian
news of course, but whoever was in-charge of this mess kept the coverage of what happened
to a minimum. Maybe SHIELD had done their fair share of keeping things hush-hush as well,
because dad thought it had all gone well.

Dad had sent Brook and Yelena congratulatory texts, promising to celebrate properly next
week when the team gathered from their various missions. Not just a celebration for
Brooklyn, but for Yelena too (Brook could tell the blonde was happy about that).

Perhaps it was that good mood that helped Tony and Fury approve the sleepover in Kansas
without much thought. They had even made sure Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Sam would be on
duty in Queens during the weekend so the city would be safe.

Meaning, they truly had a break from even their hero responsibilities.

That is how Brooklyn found herself surrounded by her whole team, all of them under a silver
maple tree who's branches had been covered with bedsheets to keep the snow at bay.

They all had some hot chocolate in hand, courtesy of their kind guest who had been nothing
but overjoyed to have them over. While Jon's grandmother had left to deliver some mail in
town, the teens had gotten a bit of training in before they sat down so Brook and Yelena
could tell everyone the story of what happened in Italy all at once.

Brook tried not to smile at the closeness Jon kept to Yelena's side, and though she was still
concerned as to why he'd gone around kissing the girls that day, the Stark could tell the
blonde was not bothered by the closeness.

Regardless of the curious display, Brook told her recounting of all the information she'd
heard during the mission, focusing on this so called Cobalus.

Tanya sighed by the end of it, head against MJ's shoulder and feet atop Harry's stretched out
legs. Though she, Harry, and MJ had been training with Brooklyn on some basic attack
moves and defensive maneuvers, they all still looked exhausted.

Good thing this wasn't the Red Room or those three would be dead by now.

Harry and Tanya looked less exhausted so thanks to their sports training. MJ on the other
hand was already leaning on a beet red Peter, hand clutching an invisible book as if in habit.
Ned was by her side, sitting peacefully with his computer, proud of himself for having come
late to miss training.

Despite her clear exhaustion, Tanya asked no one in particular "Why do bad guys need to
have such weird names?I mean...Cobalus...really?"

"Its an aesthetic" Harry argued, letting the cold air rustle his Midtown Football T-shirt and
messy brown hair without a care in the world.
Across the circle, Yelena finished throwing bunches of dying grass Jon's way to argue, "Its a
secret identity, whoever this man is he cares about keeping his face off the radar. Nat said he
was wearing a mask that day...meaning its not any of the assassin leaders like I had
predicted"

Damian was seated beside Jon, eyes on the katana he was sharpening as he added, "He
clearly has the resources to accomplish what he wants, enough so to pursue spies and cover it
up from the media. Maybe we should start considering that the man knew Italy too well,
perhaps that is his home"

Harry chuckled, "I've been to Italy quite a few times, its not a hard city to decipher with all
the tourist resources available. I found my way around it just fine when dad ditched me there
for three days"

Both options were likely. Either Cobalus was from Italy, or he had enough resources to
operate there successfully.

Brooklyn set down her mug on the low level table beside her, frowning up at the sunny sky
despite the coldness of the evening.

"SHIELD tried to find records of him while we were busy taking tests this week. They found
nothing, even with the audio recording from Nat. That audio distortion was too good" Brook
said, watching the moment Ned's eyes lit up.

He frantically opened his laptop, not looking up from the screen as he said, "You guys do
realize there are only so many voice distortion mechanisms that are that good right? If w can
find out what he used, know where it was bought, it might help us out"

Leave it to Ned to find a positive spin on poor results from SHIELD.

At least they had something to go on now, somewhere to start looking.

So as their robot children slept beside them, covered in more blankets than was probably
necessary to keep their 'body temperature' stable, everyone looked to Ned as he did his
research.

Yelena had scooted by to suggest some...underground sources she'd learned of in the Red
Room, all the while everyone basked in the beauty of the Kent farm. Ned, Harry, MJ, and
Tanya had never been here before, complaining about finding it hard to believe Superman
himself had grown up here.

None of them had ever questioned Jon's parentage since that first explanation of his true
heritage, something Jon seemed to have been very grateful for. The half-kryptonian loved
both his alien side and his human side, was not ashamed of either...but perhaps it was about
being seen as more than just Superman's son.

In all truth, Brook forgot about his father's identity quite often. Now a days, if she were to see
a red cape in the sky, her first thought would not be the man of steel...but her friend,
Superboy.
She wondered in that moment if he really noticed how strong he was becoming. Yelena had
been going on for days about how Brooklyn's fire had been a display of powers she only ever
envisioned in fairytales like Zhar-ptitsa.

A girl from the Red Room hand once snuck in a book of tales from someone's office into the
large place the girls then referred to as the community dorms. Thats where the two five year
olds heard the story of Zhar-ptitsa. The Firebird.

It was cruel to compare Brook's curse with a majestic being, but in the Stark's eyes, the true
godlike powers remained in Jon.

Though his human blood made him privy to injuries (unlike his father), they tended to heal in
seconds. He was getting stronger too, had lifted two tractors today with ease. That ice breath
of his was getting colder, its range further than before.

Progress. Thats what this was.

Everyone, not just Jon, were starting to hone their skills little by little as each mission passed.
Peter could shoot webs with more accuracy, and his apprehension to attacks was almost gone.

Damian was stronger too, faster, and now that he didn't rush to a fight, his plans were all the
better for it. Yelena no longer claimed to have the instinct to kill, she improved heavily in her
teamwork, becoming a strong partner with Jon.

Brooklyn would like to think she had improved as well, but she was so focused on how the
team was growing into something beautiful that would make a difference one day. Fury had
once mentioned that the Avengers were created to bring together a group or remarkable
people to become something more. To fight the battles the world never could.

Looking around the circle of teens, busy discussing what movie to watch tonight or the
chances of snow befalling them later today, Brooklyn realized they truly were an odd team.
But they trusted one another, they were getting stronger, and in time...hopefully they could do
some good.

It wasn't until late in the afternoon when Ned had collapsed on the grass behind him,
claiming he was done researching for today before his eyeballs fell off. They'd had their fair
bit of teasing before Harry and Jon suggested a game of football so they could train for their
big game in a few weeks. Everyone had agreed, save for Brook who had offered to help
Damian feed the farm animals as he'd promised Jon's grandmother.

They stayed close by while Damian fed the sheep, watching everyone run around the winter
field just out of earshot. As she watched Damian interact with the little fluffy creatures, she
sat atop the fence as she had months before, only this time they weren't just friends trying to
figure out if their truce was acceptable or not

"Are you sure you don't feel fatigue after using that much of your power?" Damian asked out
of the blue, hands full of hay and straw the sheep below crowded around him for.
She could hear some lingering concern for her remain in those words despite being days
since the incident.

"Dad sent me to Xavier's yesterday after school just to make sure all was well, which it is.
Apparently, by body is just not used to that magnitude of fire since I've learned to control it,
so its taxing on my energy" Brook admitted, adjusting the silly Looney Tunes sweater closer
to her body, pulling the hood up to warm her ears now that the warmth from training had
vanished.

Damian nodded, but he still moved closer to her side, animals in tow. He didn't seem to give
a fuck that they were still visible to the others as he leaned on the fence beside her. He looked
up into her eyes, the rush of winds swaying his black hair back and forth in a way that was
almost mesmerizing.

"Did your father find anything in the tests he took?"

Brooklyn sighed at the memory of Nat's instance they checked all was well once the official
report of the mission came out to the Avengers (albeit very abbreviated). Dad immediately
seated her on a bed in the med wing with cables and needles picking and prodding to make
sure that all was well with whatever alien magic was in her system.

Dad hadn't looked very worried, but still insisted it was procedure to do a checkup after
missions.

Wanda had rushed in to the med bay that day, the first time Brook had seen the Maximoff in a
while.

Though Wanda had worked though the emotions and images of Brook's past from the
incident in Wakanda, she'd still made a point to keep a distance from the teen. It helped that
Wanda was always away on missions, mostly with Vision since he was the closest to being
able to...restrain her power in case something went wrong. Something the government had
insisted on if the Scarlet Witch was to leave the compound at all.

The sight of the Sokovian had made Brook wonder if Wanda ever felt exhaustion from her
power. Their powers came from similar sources after all. It made Brooklyn curious that if the
government ever found out what she possessed, would they assign her someone to keep that
power from getting out of hand? Would they fear it as much as they feared Wanda?

Brook shook off the memories of the woman's concern, of the whispered excuse she gave Nat
for leaving so suddenly.

Seeing her like this reminds me too much of her past, sorry.

"Dad found nothing" Brook said, "Nothing internally wrong with me medically, it was just
exhaustion is all"

Brooklyn couldn't help the bit of warmth (not physical but mental) at Damian's concern. He
loved to make everyone believe he cared about nothing, but not with her. It was a small
comfort, one that seemed to make them both happy.
Just him standing beside her, both of them in this farm so far from society and
expectations....it felt like a breath fo fresh air to push back the memories of the inferno she'd
released.

Sometimes, Brook got...scared. Scared as she recalled how much fire had been there, but
more so on how some deep part inside her knew there had been much more to be released.
Brooklyn feared there were no limits to the alien power inside her, half-hoped this winter
weather might've helped in snuffing it away.

As she leaned up to look at the cloudy sky, trying not to smile when she left Damian's hand
subtly linger next to her own, she basked in the small rays of sun peeking through the clouds.

She smiled up at the passing flocks of birds and the flying humans.

Wait....flying humans?

Brooklyn halted her haze, tapping Damian on the shoulder as two figures circled the farm, the
clouds obscuring their figures until the rays of sun revealed their forms, as the flapping of
fabric reverberated in the air.

Brook's first guess was that there were mutants after them, but Damian's annoyed curses
halted that thought instantly. He helped Brooklyn down the fence, making his way a
respectable distance beside her towards the others where Jon was smirking up at the sky in
anticipation.

Tanya and Harry looked about ready to bolt instead of using the defense tactics Brook had
taught them. MJ had forgone them so much she was just sitting by the tree waiting for danger
to come get her as she read a book from Mrs. Kent's dusty library.

She'd have to properly scold them later for that.

Before Brook could pull out her gauntlets, Damian placed halting hand on her arm,
motioning to the two figures that landed a few steps before them, shaking the ground around
them and sending blades of grass and loose dirt flying below their boots.

It was Superman...and Supergirl.

Jon wasted no time screaming out, "Aunt Kara!" before flying into the blonde woman's
embrace. She caught him midway, spinning the two of them in the air as Superman himself
laughed at the sight.

Tanya tugged Brook's other arm, fussing with her pink windbreaker and jeans as she
muttered, "Superman has a sister? I thought they were both just random Krypton survivors"

The three hero nerds (Peter, Ned, and Harry) stepped behind them in an instant, as Harry
whispered between both girls, "In an interview she said they were cousins"

Of course they would know all about her. All Brooklyn knew was that Supergirl was
basically of equal power to Superman, they were both from the same planet, only the
woman's arrival to Earth had been delayed somehow. She was more well known in
California, mostly because she was the unofficial hero of National City.

From a far she seemed friendly enough, with that same go-lucky energy the Kent family
possessed.

Question was, what were she and Superman doing here?

Either way, the boys were already freaking out at the prospect of meeting another hero...well
except Damian. He lingered by Brook's side, frowning at the hand Harry kept on her
shoulder.

Brook had gotten used to seeing Mr. Kent in civilian clothes by now, but he still carried that
sense of other-worldness his cousin did in full hero suit. That lack of glasses surely did make
a difference.

It was Supergirl that approached the group first, looking at them like she was trying to figure
out what they were. it wasn't until Mr. Kent moved to her side, waving at the teens, that he
mentioned they were Jon's friends, ones that were well aware of their secret identities.

The only one Supergirl greeted knowingly was Damian, asking if he still had a stick up his
ass, to which Damian responded with a simple, "No, but I have a kryptonite one back home
I'm sure you'll love"

As if on cue to stop a possible fight, Jon introduced the rest by name, and Brook though
Harry might faint when Supergirl smiled at him. Jon's alien aunt seemed kind enough, much
more interested in bringing up Brooklyn's recent TV interviews than to question why there
were a bunch of teens in the Kent farm.

Mr. Kent did ask, and when Jon mentioned a sleepover of outmost secrecy, all teens released
a breath of relief when the man swore to keep it all from Bruce.

It was once Jon's grandma came back, after she hugged her son and Supergirl, that they were
all ushered back inside for a meal.

Brooklyn had been unable to ignore how Superman kept his gaze on Brook and Damian as
they took a seat at the table beside one another. She would've thought the man would be like
his mom and cousin, using every chance they could to bring Jon and Yelena closer. Brook
had kept an eye on that for a while, making sure Yelena was comfortable and relaxed, which
she surprisingly was. But no, Superman's gaze was on the two ex-assassins, unwavering even
when Damian challenged it with a glare of his own.

Had Brook done something wrong?

The question lingered in her mind throughout the meal, even more so afterwards when Mr.
Kent asked the teens if they wanted to go outside to play football for a while since he
interrupted their game.
MJ and Damian were not to trilled at the concept of the sport, but Michelle seemed willing to
leave her book's side if it meant playing with Superman.Even Brooklyn was a little curious as
to how that would go, so she dragged Damian along, willing to sit the game out with him on
the sidelines so they could watch.

It turned out, Jon and Harry lived up to their titles of captain and co-captain, and though the
opposing team (consisting of Supergirl and the Man of Steel to 'make things fair') had alien
blood on their side, the two teens played the sport like experts.

There was no beating their strategies.

Even Damian was amused after a time, even if Brook had to sit quite a distance away from
him to avoid any suspicions from everyone.

By the end of the game, Brooklyn found that it wasn't just Jon's dad keeping his gaze on
Brooklyn and Damian, but now his aunt as well. The two adults whispered to one another,
and the teen was willing to wager it wasn't just for strategy during the game, especially when
their gazes drifted to the only people that weren't actually playing.

Superman was Damian's godfather, someone who had once talked to Brooklyn privately
expressing thanks for helping Dami change. Brook had never quite understood what he meant
by that, at the time she was just trying to figure out why she was ok with having a Wayne as a
friend.

Now she wondered if Mr.Kent thought Brooklyn wasn't adequate after what he must've heard
of Bermuda from either Jon or Batman himself.

She considered just going over there to ask what was wrong, but then Jon's grandmother
came back outside with someone in tow.

So much for no one ever comes here...

Brooklyn wasn't stupid enough to not know who that was. Throughout the decades, anyone
could pinpoint the famous amazon with ease. Brook had seen her from a distance before,
back when the bombing of Midtown almost happened, that day the Justice league was at the
compound, but she'd never let herself process the sight of the legendary warrior till now.

Clad in her hero getup, the woman looked like all the statues and posters Brook had seen. She
looked strong, wise, and could probably kill Brooklyn with that sword of hers in seconds.

Jon seemed to forget just how powerful that amazon was, because as soon as he caught sight
of the woman, he flew over into an embrace. That's when Harry leaned over to Brook's side
to whisper, "You guys know the most amazing people, you know that?"

The amazon smiled at Jon, lifting him like he weighed nothing as she asked how he was
doing. Thats when Jon explained he was having a sleepover, introducing each of them by
name. All but Damian seemed paralyzed by the amazon's gaze, all they could do was wave at
the legend they learned about in History class.
Wonder Woman's gaze lingered on Brooklyn for an unnerving second though, as the last
name Stark was said. She eyed Brook with a careful eye, then Damian, then her again. It took
very little for her to realize the amazon must be well aware of the discontent between both
families.

Damian didn't seem bothered by Wonder Woman's presence, if fact, his glare was
challenging.

Instead of saying something about it, the hero commented she was glad to see Jon had many
friends, then she turned to Jon's dad, mentioning something about them needing to leave for a
special assignment.

Thats when the adults left, leaving with many goodbyes for the teens and hugs for Jon. They
never mentioned were they were going, and once their jet disappeared in the horizon, Damian
had scoffed at their retreat.

"Think they will tell your dad?" Brook asked wearily.

While everyone was getting ready to set up sleeping bags in the farmhouse, Damian kept his
gaze on the horizon, frown still in place as he said, "I don't think so. But if they do, Jon will
deny your being here, so will the others. Clark and his mother may as well"

Thankfully, no other superheroes showed up to the Kent farm that evening. Batman did not
come to kill Brook, and the teens had spent hours relaxing with boardgames the assassins had
never played before, eating delicious snacks from Jon's grandmother, and for once...all of
them were able to relax in one place.

They didn't speak of weapons or criminals for the remainder of the day, and it was that which
helped Brooklyn feel just a little less stressed. Even as their robot children woke everyone up
at night, no one seemed to mind much, not when they were together.

As a team.

******

Clark Kent POV-

"What do you mean I can't say anything?" Diana asked, crossing her arms before her.

Clark tried and failed to come up with a way to lie to her. Lasso of truth aside, the amazon
was quite wise, and even more perceptive.

"If you tell Bruce a Stark and his son are at the same sleepover, he'll go in there and drag
Damian back to the mansion for life" Clark explained, leaning against the wall of the jet.

Diana smiled, continuing the sharpening of her sword as she said,"You still haven't explained
to me why that girl was there with Damian. You said it yourself, they are enemies right? Even
if it's a stupid rivalry, Batman is our teammate and he should know his son is spending time
with a family rival"
Where could Clark begin explaining why he was keeping quiet about this? There was nothing
really concrete about it, it was more like a feeling.

It was hope.

Clark Kent had seen an array or impossible things happen in his life, far more than he dared
to think about. But that day he saw Damian and the Stark in that jeep, driving away from the
football game without a care in the world...that had to be the first time that kid surprised him.

At first Clark considered the option that perhaps Damian had let him see that on purpose, so
the man would tell Bruce and it would all just be a way to piss off the Bat. But that couldn't
be. That glare Damian shot his way, the one he had earlier too, it was a warning to keep his
mouth shut.

Not many people dared to threaten Superman now a days, but he could tell Damian meant it
with every fiber of his soul.

Damian and Brooklyn Stark were clearly close enough to hang out together, to be heroes in
the same team, to seemingly speak without the need for words.

So...so Clark hoped this was a good thing for Damian. The poor kid had a tendency to keep to
himself, to hide behind a mask. To him it was easier to hate the world than it was to admit not
everything was bad in it.

Brooklyn was different though.

If Clark was right and the two were friends, if that had been the cause for the little changes in
Damian these past few months...then that was worth protecting. Even if it one day brought
down Bruce's wrath.

Before Clark could think of a way to explain everything without giving secrets away, Kara
was already standing from her seat on the large jet, her eyes bright with mischief as she
explained ALL that he'd explained to her earlier.

Damian's changes. The football game. The speculations and hopes that this was something
Damian had been missing all his life.

By the end of it Clark was yelling at his cousin (who in her defense was slightly drunk thanks
to the alien booze J'onn J'onzz had brought to kara's birthday party), while Diana had settled
down with her mind deep in thought.

He considered denying it, perhaps even begging Di not to tell Bruce who would no doubt
take it badly. But then Diana said, "I've seen that kid grow up these past few years, but it
always seemed like he would remain the same. I too though some further companionship
from Jon might be useful, which is why I though he and Raven would be a good match. Are
they not together after that school dance? I heard it went well"

Clark shook his head, "Jon told me Raven is dating one of the girls we met today. The tall
brunette named Tanya"
Diana hummed contently, but as her smile grew, Clark knew it had nothing to do with
Raven's first relationship.

"So you think Damian is harboring feelings for the Stark? Because if so he chose a good life
mate, she seems strong the few times I've met her" she said.

Clark had to refrain from going wide eyed at her words. He'd merely hoped them to be
friends...hadn't even though Damian could posses the ability to care to that extent...but it
made sense.

It was Kara who began making barfing noises like a three year old, raising a brow at Diana's
words. At first Clark thought she just through the idea was not pleasant or that she was drunk
enough that she might actually throw up, oh how wrong he'd been...

"Gosh, don't say it like that it sounds boring" she said, "They probably just have tension
between one another. Like attraction between enemies! But hey, they look good together in
my opinion so..."

Now that Clark thought about it, if by some miracle Damian did have feelings for that girl
and she him...well it actually didn't sound as impossible as he'd once thought. Enemy last
names aside, they both grew up as assassins right? They had to have some things in common
from that. They both had companies to inherit one day, superhero parents to live up to.

The more he thought about it, the more rational it sounded. The less impossible it felt. It
seemed that even Diana was thinking the same thing, because when their eyes met, there was
only understanding there.

If they were right, that would be a hell of a thing to keep from Bruce, their teammate and
friend.

When he expressed that worry, Kara had scoffed, mentioning Bruce probably kept a million
things from the two anyways...which wasn't wrong.

"If we said anything to Bruce, because there is clearly something going on with those two
kids, then he'll let his hatred get in the way of his son's happiness. I think the best way to help
Damian is to not say a thing, let the poor kid work it out on his own" Clark said, not just to
Diana but also to Kara.

Clark knew his cousin had only blurted out the truth because she and Diana were close
friends, but when it came to Bruce, Kara was less friendly.

For a long time, Bruce had been like a thorn on her back, all because he did not trust the
arrival of another kryptonian after the Chitauri attacked. Bruce was indifferent about Kara's
stay now, but Clark knew his cousin had never forgotten what those years of getting used to
Earth with hatred from that man felt like, which is why it was so easy for her to say, "I won't
say a thing!"

It was to Diana that Clark turned to with more worry, at least until the amazon said, "It seems
honorable"
"So you'll keep the secret?" he asked wearily.

Diana stood from her seat, hand on the hilt of her sword as a determined look crossed her
face. A look Clark only ever saw before a battle was set to start and Diana already knew the
successful outcome.

"More than that" she said, "We may be busy at the moment, but one day I'll find out the truth.
Damian has been a little ball of anger and violence for too long, but he seemed different
today. This might be good for him, and as Bruce's offspring, I will help my friend by helping
his son"

That didn't sound good...not at all. Meddling with kids lives was not a good idea! Meddling
with Damian even more so.

"She's an assassin right?" Kara asked, "I think it's cute they have that in common"

To that, Diana's focused look returned.

"I don't think she's just an assassin" she said, "That girl...I sensed something in her today.
Something old and powerful"

"So she's a bad person? Dangerous?" Clark asked. He wasn't like Diana, she had 5,000 years
of experience under her belt, whereas Clark was still getting used to some odd things in the
world.

If she felt something, Clark had no doubt it was real. But now he worried that perhaps
keeping those two teens together might be bad for Damian...

Diana ended that train of thought when she explained, "Not bad or dangerous. We are all
powerful beyond human limits, yet we choose to do good. In a way that makes her one of us,
especially since I have a feeling that Stark child IS choosing to do good"

Kara hummed, but pipped in, "Hey, could she be Firestar? The Queens hero that fights with
Robin?"

Oh right, Clark hadn't mentioned that.

"She is" he explained, "But Bruce told me a few days ago that one of his sons was confused
as to why she was pretending to be a mutant. Bruce said she was just a Shield Agent and ex-
assassin"

Clark had seen the girl display flames on TV, had asked Jon about it and his son had merely
stated 'She's Firestar dad' but never mentioned anything beyond that. Could it be that the
power presence Diana felt had something to do with her actually being a mutant?

When asked, Diana just replied, "Impossible. Mutants are just that, humans with mutations in
their genes. That girl, I FELT the power within her like it was alive"

But not dangerous, Clark reminded himself.

"If flames are her gift then where did she get them from if not a mutation? She is Tony Stark's
daughter so she must be human" Kara asked.

Diana moved to a nearby window where she looked out into the storm clouds beyond.

"I don't know. Maybe she was blessed by Hestia, goddess of the hearth. But we can't tell
Bruce any of this for their sakes. Kal-El is right, if Bruce finds out those kids spend time
together outside of hero work then they will be separated. If Bruce finds out Brooklyn has a
powerful magic within her, he'll see it as a threat and find a way to kill her. We don't need a
Stark-Wayne war while the world is in peril" Diana said.

Unfortunately that was true. The world was a mess, and Clark felt rather useless in this war.
This wasn't just an enemy he could fight, this was espionage and secret enemies...stuff that
wasn't Superman's forte.

Bruce was their best chance to put a stop to this alien-weapon mess, and if he was distracted,
then criminals would win, and if Damian was forcefully separated from his new friend, Clark
wasn't sure if that father-son bond could ever be fixed after that.

"I have seen Starks and Waynes fight in the media for many generations" Diana mentioned
somberly, "Lets hope we finally found a generation that made an exception, one that chose
peace at last"

Clark sure hoped so, he just couldn't have imagined how serious Diana was about getting
those two kids together. Even if the midst of a battle with an unknown enemy, she was still
determined to find a bit of joy. It wouldn't be till weeks later than Clark was summoned by
Diana and Kara, all to answer one question of a possible friendship no one in the world knew
about.

Just what could they do to help Damian and Brooklyn behind Bruce's back?
 Royalty
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The students of Midtown almost trembled in anticipation when they caught sight of their
celebrities.

One of them, the daughter of a famous hero, a girl that was not only rich beyond imagination,
but also beautiful. And thought reserved, was very kind. The other was not as kind, his
resting face was one of glares and pointed stares, but no one could deny the handsomeness of
him or the fact that he was the son of the famous Wayne of riches untold.

One the Princess of the lively and cheery New York, the other, the Prince of the dark and
desolate Gotham.

It was no secret that they HATED one another, all the students had learned to look away from
the two teens when they were forced to be around one another. Some would claim their glares
to one another could freeze an entire room, while others bargained the heat of their arguments
could set the school on fire.

Since coming back from break, they had also learned that not only did the Stark and Wayne
hate each other more than anything, but that they hated one another so much, that it was
almost like they were the only ones allowed to do so.

Anyone who approached the Stark with whatever bravery they possessed in order to ask her
out would find themselves facing the terrifying glares of the Wayne, who seemed to hate
them for even thinking of liking someone like his enemy.

In similar fashion, when girls trailed the Wayne like his own personal shadows, the Stark
would dismiss them away, expressing her disgust of anyone having to be around her greatest
enemy, as if such an experience should be as horrible to everyone in the world.

Such rivalry and famed hatred did not stop there.

Though both teens were practically royalty in their own right, there were students (mostly of
other schools) who sometimes mocked the Wayne during football games for being from
Gotham, and there were a countless number of jealous guys and girls who let their
insecurities out on the Stark, calling her names or pointing out she was nothing more than her
father's shadow.

In any of those instances, Midtown had beheld something quite terrifying. They had come to
learn an unspoken rule the Stark and Wayne had silently established. The two teens HATED
one another, and that hatred ran so deep...that they were the ONLY ONES allowed to hate the
other.
I someone messed with Damian, Brooklyn would be there to mock them for waisting their
time, preceding to shoot them a glare almost twin-like to the Wayne's that sent most smart
lads running. Those that did not run often found themselves sorry for that fact when Brooklyn
humiliated them with simple observations.

As for those who bothered Brook, it seemed that Damian felt he was the only one entitled to
make her life miserable, a thought that often sent girls and guys running for their lives after a
simple glare, sometimes nothing more than a raised brow in challenge.

Suffice to say....the Stark-Wayne rivalry was no mystery to anyone, but it also established a
law that commanded no one was allowed into it.

Sometimes, girls giggled and gossiped before bathroom mirrors, joking about what a power
couple those two would be if they did not hate one another so much. In fact, if all that hatred
shifted into passion...it would make most romance films look like a joke.

Boys had their way around rumors as well, granted they were more on the mocking side.

Brooklyn was the most desirable girl in Midtown, and arguably...perhaps in the whole city,
state, and country. It was a shame she had the Wayne as an enemy, because he took to
torturing her life by making sure no guy would dare try and ask her out. A shame really,
anyone in school would be willing to give up an arm and a leg to be by her side, be it for
tabloid and media fame, or just to get the small chance to meet the great Tony Stark.

The school had come to accept seeing the two close to one another recently due to their
melting pot of friends, but also because of the random luck (or misfortune if one where to ask
them) of getting paired for the 'family' project.

They all understood that the Stark and Wayne competed in everything, both ambitious
enough to try to best one another be it by completing a P.E. task, to getting better grades. It
was clear neither teen would risk getting a low grade or risk the spot of valedictorian... but it
was odd sometimes seeing them together holding a child.

Mosts students felt bad for that poor robot child, wondering how many times the two teens
had hurled that baby at one another during an argument by now, or what kind of neglect said
baby received due to the hatred between the two.

Either way, no one could deny both were kind of the royalty of the school.

Their friend group...was peculiar. With popular students like the Osborn heir and the daughter
of the Chief of Police, while also holding nerds and outcasts amongst their group. No one
could deny now that somehow, they had all come together to form a close nit group, one that
was at the top of the chain, with Brooklyn and Damian as the supreme rulers.

When those two walked into the school building in the mornings, dressed in their finery as
they exited the now well known worn down blue Jeep...standing side by side with heads held
high and a strength in the eyes...there was no helping the gawking and staring their way.
They were both unfairly good-looking, powerful beyond money in away no one could
describe, and when they stood side by side, coats billowing with the winter winds as they
stepped into the school...they might as well have been wearing crowns atop their heads.

Those two would be the rich and powerful that would rule the world one day, those lucky
enough to own companies that had the potential to shape the world. It was a scary thought
sometimes, but most students had come to realize those two were like old souls, adults in
young bodies that were groomed for the job.

With Harry Osborn in the group, the chipper womanizer, they likely had the money necessary
to buy the country if they wished.

Those three were the ultimate rich kids, the ones that could bathe in hundred dollar bills but
chose to be humble about it in their own ways. Damian must be forced into a PR stunt with
that old Jeep of his, Harry sticking to old sweaters rather than designer clothes, while
Brooklyn was often seen at old arcades and simple coffeeshops rather than lavish restaurants.

Seeing the three of them on TV at times seemed almost odd, like they all had twins that
attended fancy events in designer suits that were worth more than a house mortgage, wearing
expensive jewels and designer brand clothes who's little embellishments looked like they
were carved by the gods themselves.

Maybe that is why this field-trip felt so odd.

All juniors were taken to Oscorp Industries today to learn about their main projects on
experimental science, military research and cross-species genetics.

Midtown was a renowned science and tech school, this was a normal trip...only now they had
the heir of said company in their mix, letting the guide show him around the large building as
if he didn't know it by heart.

No student was certain, but they were confident in their guess that both the Stark and Wayne
beside Harry were equally as familiar with this building.

Last time the school had all come to Oscorp, they'd been freshmen, and only Harry had been
amongst them. But now with two other heirs in the mix, it seemed even the guide was
nervous, visibly sweating bucketfuls when she beheld the son of Bruce Wayne and the
daughter of Tony Stark.

What was even more weird was that the three were...well Brook and Harry got along well,
many people were waiting for the day those two finally got together...but the normal hatred
between Harry and Damian had been...diminishing.

They had not argued once in weeks. Sure, they still had banter and Damian still glared at
Harry from time to time, but it seemed that today, the heirs were standing here in neutral
ground, not as students but as children representing their last names.

It was odd realizing these bantering teens would one day run the most important companies
in the country, arguably, the world. Without the robotic babies in their arms, all of them
dressed more elegantly than usual, standing proud as they payed attention to the guide...it
made the other teens realize this was a glimpse of the future.

True Royalty.

As the tour wen on, some students seemed genuinely interested in what was being said,
having chosen this field of work as their own for the future. Others were busy wondering less
probable things.

Boys fantasized what it would be like to marry the Stark, to become rich, practically New
York royalty. Some fantasized of a future where they bumped into her in some lone street of
the city, where she would recognize them instantly from their Midtown Days. They'd meet
the Avengers too, another perk of marrying the most beautiful girl in Queens. It was no better
than a fan-fiction, but most girls thought the same of the Wayne heir.

The girls let their eyes wander through his pre-mature beauty, his perfect body, his effortless
elegance. They fantasied of a future where they were the ones that managed to melt his cold
and ruthless heart, becoming the royalty of Gotham by his side with mountains of money to
buy their every comfort.

Seeing Harry in his element, the place he'd likely be in all his life, it made them remember he
wasn't just the all-star sports player who loved a hookup in a janitor's closet. He too was born
royalty, the future owner of this massive building dedicated to research that would change the
world just as Stark Industries and Wayne Enterprises would.

He was not elegantly handsome like Damian, an untouchable marble statue carved by the
gods. Harry was a wild kind of hot, a guy who looked good covered in mud, who's smirks
could stop a heart and jokes could light a room.

As both teens flanked the Stark at the front of the group, some teens couldn't help but whisper
the polar opposite personalities between those two.

It was a shame really. Most people at school, if not New York, already saw Harry's and
Brook's friendship as a sign of a future relationship. She'd be the beautiful and elegant wife,
he the smiling and joking husband latched to her arm. Those two would be dressed in the
finest suits and jewels, going to the most elegant events one day, probably with unbelievably
good looking kids too.

Girls hated to admit it (because they'd been with Harry at some point in high school), but they
knew all these hookups Harry favored were likely meaningless, just a passing step to his
future with the princess of New York.

It was like the pages of a fairytale coming together before them.

No one raised a brow when the usual group of misfits sat together at a table in the cafeteria,
even the order in which they sat at did not change in the least from the usual school set up. It
was like they were in their own little world, discussing Oscorp pamphlets and packets of
information like they were at a business meeting.
When Mr. Osborn showed up at their table, the man who owned this building and all others
like it greeted Brooklyn and Damian with familiarity.

The man looked like the definition of an authoritative figure, and though his brown hair was
graying, most couldn't deny they could see where Harry's good looks came from.

No one missed the way Harry seemed distant to his father, they had never seen the man at
parent-days or school games. Even on TV, the two seemed to be two different moons orbiting
the same planet.

Gossip flowed across the cafeteria at the sight, noting Harry's indifference and Mr. Osborn's
lingering eyes. No one heard what was being spoken, only that Brooklyn Stark shook the
man's hand...with a hidden glare in her eyes...as if in warning.

Mr. Osborn proceeded to pat his son on the shoulder in farewell, that fat golden ring on his
finger glinting like a jewel against the light. The man waved at each table in
acknowledgment, but soon retreated back to his office, the one the guide had pointed out as
the dome at the top of the massive tower, hanging like a drop of water from the glass roof.

The King's throne.

By the end of the trip, after hours of learning about the experiments and research of the
multibillion-dollar multinational corporation, everyone was shoved back to their school
buses, leaving the royalty and their court to take up the back seats of the bus where they
whispered of things unknown.

Probably how Harry and Jon would win the state finals game next week with ease, how the
heirs would spend their billions in the future. They likely whispered of Peter's genius intellect
landing him a job at Stark industries (he already interned there and befriended the heiress
after all), of Michelle's brilliance making her some sort of lawyer, and Ned's known technical
weebness landing him a spot behind a desk wherever he wished.

Tanya would likely become a model, perhaps marrying that girlfriend she was rumored to
have. Yelena was a shy thing, but rumor had it she likely already had a job at Stark industries
reserved thanks to her blood, her grades certainly backed that up.

It was silly how a simple school field trip was able to allow the nosy students a glance of
their untouchables together outside the usual halls, how differently they looked outside of
school.

So while Flash swore his marriage to Brooklyn was guaranteed, and the cheer squad
convincing one another to make a trip to Gotham to 'find' Damian alone, most just stared at
the odd little group with more questions than answers.

They didn't fit with anyone else, they made no sense.

So as the bus drove back to school, most placed bets on how long it would take the Stark and
Wayne to fight since they were seated together, out of sigh from most thanks to their corner
 seats. Others took the time to ogle the sweet Kansas boy who only seemed to have eyes for
Brooklyn's shy cousin.

Everyone in that bus was so clueless, unknowingly making the teens have an easier job with
their secrets and hidden identities by their wild assumptions.

Oh, how mistakenly they perceived their royalty....how amusing that the enemies around the
world assumed the same thing, unable to imagine those kids were heroes in disguise.

Talia al Ghul observed the bus depart, making sure her disguise was not disturbed as she
strolled down the street.

She likely would've thought those same assumptions about those kids had she not know who
lay under the masks. She left wishing she could've neared her son...that she could warn him
awful things were almost here.

Alas they were on different sides of this war.

In her eyes, that innocent royalty wouldn't last forever.

Chapter End Notes

Wow, this was a very long update! I hope you guys have enjoyed the first chapters of the
second book! In the future, you can look forward to many interesting things that have
been a long time coming, like a certain football game, another appearance from Cassie,
an outing to the Opera, and maybe some expansions to both the Wayne and Stark
families.

Let me know what you think so far! Thank you all for reading!
 Breaking Traditions

Brooklyn POV-

It was already a week later, and Brook was not the least bit surprised Harry had started the
day still texting about how cool it had been to meet Superman, Supergirl, and the legendary
amazon he'd admired (more like had a crush on) since he was 3.

I can't believe Damian has known all these cool people all this time and never said a thing!
You should introduce us to your hero family Brook, I want to meet the Avengers so bad!,
Harry texted.

MJ was always the first to wake, likely because she sometimes forgot to go to bed thanks to
her nightly reading habits...so she was the first to reply cooly.

You've known the Waynes all your life and you had no inkling Bruce Wayne was Batman?

The reply was quick, ignoring the laughing emojis from Ned, Tanya, and Jon.

It's not my fault I didn't know! I thought Bruce and his family were just naturally rude when
they left events early. They never throw parties in their fancy house so I thought they were
antisocial! Plus Mr. Wayne said he FUNDED Batman, not that he was the one running
around in a black cape! I heard that he fell down a well full of bats when he was young, if he
was afraid of Bats then he couldn't be one! I have a hard time believing the man who used to
sleep with hundreds of women and used to flash a Hollywood smile would be the scary
Batman!

Harry's rant only made Brook want to laugh all the harder in that dark room of hers that had
yet to see the sun.

Ned replied amusedly, In his defense Bruce Wayne is as famous as a Kardashian. If I saw
Kim Kardashian out and about in a Bat costume I wouldn't immediately think its her either.
But wait...didn't you say you once played a Fuck, Marry, Kill game about heroes and
vigilantes at a fancy party? You told me and Peter about it like a year ago. Was Bruce Wayne
there?

Silence ruled the chat as Brooklyn watched Harry's typing bubble come and go.

The answers that poured in seconds later made the Stark laugh so hard she hit her head on the
headboard of her bed.

Fuck.

He was there, and we did one for Batman! Shit!

Even sweet Peter, who had been tying to get everyone to lay off Harry, pushed past his good
intentions to ask, God Harry, what did you choose?
Oh, this would be fun.

Just for the record, everyone chose fuck since the other two were the Hulk and Martian
Manhunter. I only said marry because I thought Batman, as a skilled vigilante, would be able
to keep me safe and cared for, not because I was attracted to the Bat outfit.

Though Brooklyn and Yelena were clueless to the game in question, they gathered enough of
it to tease Harry along with the others for quite some time, well...all except Damian who only
said he wanted to throw up at the revelation.

Amidst the chaos, Brook didn't want to scar her Damian any more, yet couldn't help but ask,
What did Bruce Wayne choose?

It was with that same anticipation from earlier that they all waited, especially since it had
been a party Damian had not attended and did not know the answer to.

Now that I think about it, it's fucking hilarious. Bruce said the game was ridiculous at first,
but ultimately chose to kill the Hulk, marry the Martian, and fuck Batman.

Chaos erupted in the chat, enough so that Brooklyn knew this is all any of them would
reference for a good laugh for the next few days.

With tears in her eyes from laughing so hard at the mental image of an awkward Bruce
Wayne sitting with a bunch of rich people saying they'd sleep with his alter ego, the teen set
down her phone on the nightstand, looking up at the start stickers that still shone a faint green
above.

It was barely seven in the morning on this sunny Saturday afternoon, and Brooklyn still had
to find the will to get out of bed.

She'd been on her phone for an hour with little to no interest to leave the warmth of her bed.

Luckily, today's agenda would have something free of fighting criminals or hopelessly
looking for others.

For some reason, Yelena and Jon had jumped at the chance to do patrols together this
weekend, and if there was nothing out of the ordinary in the city, that meant Brooklyn was
free to do as she pleased.

Since everyone in the compound was busy on some secret mission even Damian's family was
involved in, that meant she'd been given the rare chance to plan an outing in Queens with
Damian instead of sulking about being left in the dark.

Though limitations were still present, the two teens must've been extremely overworked
because neither of them seemed opposed to a walk in the nearby park (with appropriate
disguises). Damian still despised the idea of having to hide himself, but had argued very little
about it after that.

As Brooklyn finally stood to get ready for the day, she had GIL send her 'Iron man' suit on its
way to Gotham, watching it leave through her balcony when doubts began to fill her head
again.

They came and went, mostly when she was at school hearing rumors about how people
thought she'd date Harry one day, as if in fulfillment of some unspoken prophesy. Rumors of
Damian's destiny married to some model or high class woman from Gotham always seemed
to spark questions in her head as well.

Was her happiness worth denying Damian the right to find someone better he didn't need to
hide with?

Was Ivan right? Was Brooklyn made to be alone?

What would her dad do when he found out just who his daughter was dating, but more than
just that, whom Brooklyn held the deepest of affections for?

People were already getting suspicious of Brook's single status, finding it odd considering
how all Starks before her had been well known playboys. Even with Bruce
Wayne's...intimidating persona, he too had been known for sleeping around for a long time.
The fact that she and Damian were 'single' made for some recurring rumors not just at school
and on TV.

Some were convinced the heirs had significant others and were just hiding them from the
cameras and the spectacle. Brook had watched enough MTV, TMZ, and The Insider to know
what she was being labeled as.

None, absolutely NONE of said nasty rumors ever speculated she and Damian were a thing.
It was the furthest thing the media seemed to think possible, even going as far as to say
Brooklyn could be sleeping around with heirs like Lex Jr or Harry, but never Damian.

Would there ever be a time she and Dami would risk peace to prove the rumors wrong?

Would they hide their emotions for one another forever so as to not push their families away?

Damian would never admit it, but his family meant as much to him as Brooklyn's meant to
herself. Neither wanted to see their families abandoning them.

As Brook careful traced the outline of her lips with a bit of rouge (one that wouldn't transfer,
as yet another precaution for their secret), she kept a keen eye not on her reflection, but more
so on the photos behind her hung proudly on the wall.

Photos of her and Damian, kept like little secrets frozen in time.

Every part of her mind knew this thing with Damian was special in a way that she'd never
imagined possible. Being able to be close to him, to trust him and to be trusted by him was a
gift Brook hated to think she was not worthy of.

Being friends had felt like a weight off her shoulders, being best friends and the closest of
confidants felt like a relief, but being his significant other now felt like the piece of a puzzle
falling into place, just like acquiring her family had been like.
This something more was particularly important today, which is probably why her mind was
going into a frenzy of unpleasant thoughts. Just nerves of the unknown...

Brooklyn had learned many years ago that on February 14th of every year, the relationship
between couples was, by social mandate, heavily celebrated. Despite the fact that they were
both no longer 'single', her and Damian found the 'holiday' rather odd. If not a bit confusing.

During their usual talks last night, the two had chosen to bring up the topic of all the buzz
around school yesterday. Instead of talking about it with smiles and enthusiasm like all other
young pairings at school, she and Dami seemed to agree that the event itself was rather
stupid.

Why have a day to celebrate affection for your significant other when that was supposed to
be something one did everyday? It didn't make sense. Regardless, Damian felt it was a
gentleman's duty to pay some regard to the dreadful holiday, but chose to do it in a way they
would both be comfortable with.

While the masses spent the day giving out gifts, having candle lit meals, and going to
booked-out restaurants, Damian had suggested they go for a walk in the park with Titus since
the dog had been moodier than usual.

Any time spent in one another's company without others, or while on patrols, was already a
gift in itself. So Brooklyn had been quick to agree that such a simple outing could be great
for them to relax.

With so many people out on their own celebrations, the chances of them being spotted or
noticed would be less. Brook's parents were in Paris celebrating the occasion while Damian's
own parents and most of his siblings were out doing their own things as well.

It was the perfect day to spend together.

Staring at her reflection in the large mirror of her bedroom, Brooklyn couldn't help but find
the smile on her face rather odd. There was a time when such an action was a rare
occurrence. During her years in the Red Room, at the orphanage, and even when she finally
got out of the streets...such raw joy had been almost impossible to imagine.

But Damian made her truly happy. It was as simple as that.

Despite the stupidity of today, she couldn't deny being excited at the prospect of just relaxing
for once, so she quickly strapped on her boots and coat before exciting the front door with a
quick reach for her purse and sunglasses.

Unfortunately, relaxation did not mean she was allowed no disguise.

Paparazzi were going rather easy on her, likely realizing it was not worth it getting sued by
Tony Stark or just satisfied with her upcoming jobs and public appearances...but one could
never be too sure, so she'd wear the sunglasses and draw eyes away from her red hair with a
beret. Her coat should be enough to deceive the image her figure and age anyways...
As GIL locked the door behind Brook, the teen was almost startled into a fighting stance
when she realized someone else was in the hall. It wasn't the old lady from down the hall, or
the blind couple from five doors down.

"Cassie?" Brook asked, gaining the attention of the young girl standing by Peter's closed
door.

Cassie wasted no time rushing down the hall as fast as her rain boot covered feet and frilly
skirt would allow. Brooklyn quickly stashed her phone and glasses on the purse by her side so
she could catch the incoming child, letting Cassie jump up into her arms comfortably.

The teen couldn't help but smile as Scott's daughter continued to repeat how much she missed
Brooklyn these past few days, which was a reminder that it wasn't the end of the month yet.
Her visit with Peter to the Paxton home was not due for a while, then...what were they doing
here?

Luckily, Maggie rushed over with a shy smile on her face, and Brook noted the woman was
dressed rather elegantly to just be out for a stroll.

"Brooklyn! It's so good to see you dear. Say, do you know if Peter or May are around?" the
woman asked.

Brook smiled at Cassie before adjusting the girl to settle on her hip comfortably as she said,
"I believe Aunt May mentioned going out with some friends from the hospital for galentines
day. Peter is out with some friends for video game night. Is everything alright?"

The woman sighed, then looked slightly embarrassed as she explained, "I have a last minute
valentines date with Jim that the police station is hosting...actually, since the Parkers aren't
here, would you mind taking care of Cassie for the day? I know you said you don't have a
boyfriend so I assume you have no plans today"

Well, Brook was suddenly a little smug at the fact that she DID have plans. But it's not like
she could reveal her deepest darkest secret right then and there. Having to meet up with
Damian Wayne on any given day could be excused with a good lie, but if that day was
Valentines day...it could arise more questions than it was worth.

Cassie was already smiling brightly at the concept of spending time with 'Brookie', and the
teen had never been more glad that the little girl was someone Damian could possibly stand
as she accepted the responsibility.

Maggie looked like she might kiss Brooklyn, but barely managed a simple thank you, a
handing over of Cassie's bag with some snacks and essentials before saying she had to run to
make it in time.

Next thing Brook knew, she was going down the hall with a very happy Cassie on her hip, a
small shoulder bag full of supplies, and the hope that Damian wouldn't throw her down the
nearest building on their next patrol when he saw who'd be joining them today.
At least Cassie knew how to keep a secret, considering she'd been good at hiding her dad was
Ant Man all this time....

By the time Brooklyn had arrived at the park with Cassie in hand, talking about some school
protect, the teen did not take long to spot Damian under the shade of a grand hackberry tree.

He too wore dark sunglasses, his usual black coat to fight off the cold, and Rosa lay asleep in
his arms, covered in three layers of green blankets that did wonders to conceal the doll from
view.

She'd already told Cassie who'd they be meeting, and the little girl had been so excited to see
Damian again that as soon as she spotted him, Scott's daughter let go on Brook's hand and ran
to clutch one of the Wayne's legs, shouting how much she had missed her new friend.

The sight of his temporary shock was almost enough to make Brooklyn laugh, especially as
Cassie began tugging on Rosa's baby bag in silent request to be raised to see the baby in
Damian's arms. Then she began trying to pet Titus, who after realizing it was the child he'd
met once before and was not a threat, had settled on the grass as if already dreading what
would happen. Likely having unpleasant flashbacks of his first meeting with Cassie.

Once Damian too recognized who the little girl was, he seemed to relax, even more so as he
saw Brooklyn approaching.

The large black dane had beamed at Brook's approaching form, and the little beast had left his
master's side to stand by her own. Brook did not hesitate to pat the dog's head fondly,
laughing when Damian mentioned Titus would have killed half his siblings if he knew he'd
missed yet another chance to see Brooklyn.

Spoiled indeed.

"I suppose I am mandated by tradition to wish you a pleasant Valentine's day, my beloved.
Though I feel the need to tell you I don't just think of you fondly on this day in particular, that
feeling is relatively stable everyday" Damian said as a proper greeting once she moved to
stand by his side..

Brooklyn had chuckled at that, taking one of his gloved hands into her own as she said,
"Then I guess I am supposed to wish you a happy Valentines as well. My own fondness is not
any lesser or greater today either, its constantly growing without the need for a special
holiday"

The two teens smirked, both probably rolling their eyes behind their shades, at least pleased
to be in one another's presence...even if they had a few more people than anticipated.

The two teens let Cassie fuss over Rosa for a bit, let her hug Brook's and Damian's legs as the
two tried to have a silent conversation.

By the end of the silent explanation, she knew Damian understood Brooklyn had been given
babysitting duty, but to her surprise, he did not seem to mind all that much. When she raised a
brow at that, he merely gestured to the robot baby in his arms as if to say I'm used to children
by now.

Brooklyn had smiled at that, moving to take hold of Cassie's hand, and Damian Titus' leash,
as the three (or five if you counted Rosa and Titus) made their way down the path of the park.

Most couples were too busy staring at one another to notice the peculiar party walking along
their midsts. The teens were still cautious while in that small park, taking the less ventured
walkways, lowering their heads when people got close, all in an effort to keep their secret
safe.

Only and older lady with two walking canes and hair white as snow stopped them to say they
had a 'beautiful family' while gesturing to the blanket covered Rosa and a happy Cassie
between them. The older woman also smiled brightly as she mentioned they seemed to be
good with their kids, that second time parents were always more visibly relaxed.

Brook knew even her shades and scarf did little to cover the blush at the misunderstanding. It
didn't help that Scott's kid kept smiling as they walked along, deciding to refer to them as
mom and dad for the day. Something the little girl thought might be a fun game of sorts.

The Stark just wanted to burn with embarrassment. Here she was, just trying to have some
sense of normality with her...significant other, and yet it had taken less than six minutes for
someone to think that they were...

Perhaps out of embarrassment of his own, Damian suggested they diverge from the now
crowded park to go get something to snack on. Thankfully, Cassie had quickly suggested a
nearby candy shop Peter always took her to.

So they made their way across the street to the pastel colored candy store with bright lights
and an array of sugary sweets on every wall dispenser. It certainly smelled like sugar in
there...

Brooklyn had been rather shocked when Cassie took hold of both teen's hands, waisting no
time guiding them to the area of her favorite treats. As the little girl beamed at the array of
options thanks to Damian's earlier statement to 'get anything she wanted', the two teens stood
by almost protectively.

There were few people in the small store, and perhaps it was the elegant and expensive coats
from both teens that drew more attention from said strangers, or the fact that neither had
removed their shades or hats upon entry.

Luckily, Titus' menacing features kept most of them at bay as he stood dutifully by Brook's
side while seemingly keeping a watchful eye on Cassie as she bounced from one display to
another.

Either way, they let Cassie fuss over the marshmallows, hard candies, and lollipops of her
choosing in peace.
"You know," Brook said, inching closer to Damian's side to take a look at the sleeping Rosa
in his arms, "this school project has made you quite a tolerant person towards kids. I thought
you might get mad when Cassie showed up"

Damian moved closer to her side, leaning down slightly while still keeping an eye on Cassie
as he said, "Is that your way of telling me I've gone soft?"

Brook couldn't help the chuckle that erupted from her lips as she busied herself arranging
Damian's black scarf back into place against the lapels of his coat.

"Of course not, you are and always will be one of the strongest people I know. This is my
way of telling you I'm glad you're working to improve your past distaste. I remember the way
you were that time we were punished into going to that school with kids. You didn't even
want to touch one...now, you are doing much better" she corrected, smiling up at him.

In their corner of the store, Damian dared to place his free arm around her middle, and though
he was mumbling things about still hating small humans, Damian was quick to gently instruct
Cassie to not lean on the candy crates for her safety the way a person who didn't hate 'small
humans' would.

The little girl had nodded in understanding, shooting a thumbs up at the pair as she went on
with filling her bag of treats.

With a slightly bitter tone that was mostly feigned, Brook whispered, "Sometimes I think she
likes you more than she likes me, and you two have only met once before. Cassie is an
obedient kid, but not as much as when you're around"

Damian smirked at that, his gloved hand tightening slightly against her hip as he let out a
singular laugh.

"If you say so, my beloved"

The two shared a private smile, listening to Rosa's soft recorded breathing sounds, letting
Titus nuzzle into Brook's coat as they watched Cassie fill up her little bag to the brim.She had
the vague sense that maybe allowing that would not be a good idea, but Cassie's joy was
quick to push that thought aside.

"Some day, you are going to spoil your offspring senseless" Brook said without thinking,
almost regretting the way the words came out until Damian replied calmly, "You once said
kids should not have the childhood we did, that they should experience as much happiness as
possible. Seeing as I will be a rich man in the near future, I will spoil my descendants as I see
fit"

Did he just....

Brook chose to let he implications of his statement brush above her head as she tried to be
glad that Damian was open to one day have a family of his own not out of being forced to
have descendants by his mother, but because he was realizing kids were not so bad.
Maybe this assignment did not have the effect Mr. Wilson had originally intended after all,
not that Brooklyn was complaining.

Ever since she had become friends with Damian, some part of her had wanted to help him
live a better life. Like her, it had not been hard to figure out the youngest Wayne kept his
circle of close allies as small as could be. She knew that at times, it seemed like too much
effort to get close to people, that navigating the thin and delicate threads of doubt and trust
was difficult for normal people, even more so for assassins.

But if there was one thing Brooklyn had learned from her family was that sometimes...even
the loneliness of individuals needed someone else in their lives.

Since their friendship blossomed, not only had Brook gained a few friends and opened up her
heart, but Damian had as well, even if he tried to downgrade how good that was for him. If
Damian was now at a point in time when he was even willing to let his circle grow one day,
be it with the acceptance of his unborn sibling, more friends, allies, more pets, or a child of
his own in the future...then Brooklyn could be nothing but happy for him.

She'd been alone long enough to know that was not something she wanted for him, perhaps
now he was beginning to understand it.

Once Cassie had shown off her array of sweets, she'd gone over to cling to their legs, looking
up at Damian as she said, almost teasing, "I got everything I needed dad, can we pay for it?"

Damian stiffened slightly, either at the words or the physical contact from someone that
wasn't Brook. Cassie really was taking that teasing thing seriously....

Still, he did not bother correcting the young girl before guiding Cassie to the register, leaving
Rosa and Titus in Brook's care.

The young teen at the register did not recognize Damian in the least, but she did go wide
eyed at the black card Damian handed over. It seemed not many people payed for sweets with
an Amex Black Card with no name, meant only for the ultra wealthy.

It was once they were back at the park, seated in a lone bench, that the area around them
seemed to contain only a handful of people in the distance. Cassie was allowed to go a little
further out in the green field, throwing a Frisbee to a very excited Titus that no longer seemed
to mind the small child that had tagged along.

"We're spoiling him" Damian groaned, watching as Titus jumped around excitedly, even
when Cassie's throws were less than perfect thanks to her small limbs.

Brooklyn sat by Damian's side, closer than usual so she could steal his warmth against the
rising cold of the afternoon. She held a bottle for the quiet Rosa as they beheld the two
mischievous creatures at play before them.

The Stark couldn't help the small smirk that came across her features as she replied, "Like
you haven't warmed up to Cassie as well? I for one think its good Titus doesn't feel like
killing more people in this world than he might have to"
Damian couldn't argue with that, seeing as he too wanted the best for Titus, even if he did not
voice it.

What surprised Brook was when he reached for the small baby bag he'd been carrying with
Rosa's and Tutus' things. He wasn't looking at her when he said, "Seeing as it is public
tradition to give a gift on Valentines say....I got you something"

Brook's eyes went wide, she almost dropped the bottle in her hands out of shock.

Sure, she'd gotten Damian something yesterday, but had never imagined him to be the type to
do it as well, tradition or no.

As Damian continued rummaging through the baby bag's contents, he blurted, "Most males
give flowers, jewelry, or chocolates. I know you would find little use for flowers that would
quickly whither. You have enough hated jewelry gifted to you by big name brands, and your
preference of sweets is very limited but not something that makes you happy enough to
justify as a gift"

Brooklyn nodded, slightly surprised at how he kept track of all those small tidbits of
information about her, that he thought them important enough to remember.

"So..." Damian said, slowly pulling out the last thing Brook expected to be gifted, even if she
should've seen it coming form someone like him.

Damian's face was uneasy as he handed over a twin set of daggers, thin enough to be
concealed within clothes but sharp enough to cut through skin and bone. That in itself seemed
like a perfectly good and useful gift to her...but as she took a closer look at them, she noticed
there were carvings on said blades.

Brooklyn had seen enough paintings from Damian to know he'd carved them himself,
depictions of 3D like flames around a field of Roses, and flaming phoenixes flying through
clouds carved with meticulous care.

The teen couldn't help but cradle the weapons fondly, to see the effort and time Damian put
into them despite the fact that he was not obligated to. He must've seen the joy in her face to
be relax a bit, going back to that calm expression of his, and even smiling when she teased,
"You get me the nicest things, Wayne...I will keep them close everyday"

Looking at the park beyond where couples were busy gifting roses or chocolate boxes,
Damian said confidently, "Anybody can get jewelry...posers", sending Brook into a fit of
giggles that made Rosa coo in her arms.

Pocketing the weapon in the hidden pockets of her gray coat, the Stark reached into the purse
by her side, unable to stifle the worry that her own gift would not measure up to the
perfection of his own.

It had actually taken Brooklyn quite some time to think of what she could give a teen who
like her, had enough money to get whatever they wished. It had taken hours of digging deeply
into personal memories, thinking back on all the small bits of information on Damian her
mind loved to store.

She'd eventually settled on his hidden love for art, the one hobby of his that was close to his
heart, an extension of the kindness and beauty of his hidden soul.

Brooklyn didn't let herself think twice before she pulled out her poorly wrapped gift,
something even Youtube tutorials could not salvage.

Damian did not seem to mind the blue wrapping paper, but was still carefully pulled it apart,
even when his shaded eyes held a certain kind of shock laced with excitement.

Brook couldn't help but wonder how many gifts he'd been given in his youth with Talia, how
many he had reluctantly or angrily accepted from Bruce Wayne and his siblings.

Even when Cassie's excited squeals and Titus' barks filled the space nearby, neither teen
turned as Damian examined the set of pencils and pens within the wrapping paper. Only they
did not look very elegant or fancy, they just looked like any normal pen of pencil.

"You have a habit of drawing whenever you can, I thought it might be useful to have special
doodling tools without brining attention to yourself. That is why you don't draw much at
school right? You don't want others to peek at your work"

Damian nodded, inspecting every pen and pencil with an almost perfectly concealed
tenderness reserved for things he valued or cared for, like Titus, Goliath, art, and even Rosa.

It wasn't the custom-made items in his hand Brook was nervous about....no, it was the other
object in the package that Damian seemed to hone his haze on that made Brooklyn want to
bolt out of the bench in mild embarrassment.

Damian picked up a small notebook of no particular beauty or seemingly expensive price.

Before he could say anything of it, Brooklyn explained, "I notice you like drawing things
around you but don't often have the time to do so thanks to our schedules...so I went out with
my camera there past couple of days and took a few photos of anything I thought you might
appreciate"

Damian opened the notebook to reveal each page had a set of Polaroids tucked into the
crease, they ranged from mundane enough things like plants or buildings, to more personal
things like their friends at the Briar Rosa cafe, shots of their hero personas during patrols, and
even a couple of them at school.

Studying, laughing, eating, relaxing....

There were quite a few that were rather funny, like Jon out-running all his teammates during
practice, Harry giving himself carrot fangs at lunch, and even some of Peter's web
experiments when he got tangled up in the fruits of his own inventions.

Brooklyn had hesitantly added quite a few of herself. Photos of her and Damian relaxing at
the apartment, of the two of them in Roscoe on their way out from school, even some of her
hugging Goliath in a cluster of flames on the days the Dragon Bat showed up to spend the
afternoon with her.

Damian traced the flames in those shots, the flowing nature of her hair as she flew across the
city, even the sunsets from her balcony made him pause appreciatively.

"I figured it might be good for reference if you ever feel like drawing something out of your
line of sight...at the very least they are just memories you can keep if you like" Brook said
rather nervously.

She'd NEVER been one to give many gifts, it was a foreign sensation, and though not
unwelcome...she felt too inexperienced with the concept to be confident in her ability to give
something nice. At least that was until Damian looked up from the notebook, relenting one of
the rare private smiles that showed off those dimples of his she'd grown to appreciate.

Though she knew giving thanks was as hard for Damian as it was for her, he did not hesitate
or stutter one as he said, "It's all perfect. Thank you, my beloved"

The stiffness of her shoulders vanished, even more so when Dami boldly leaned closer to
place a kiss on her cold cheek.

The two teens must've looked like fools sitting there, unable to stop smiling at one another in
that moment that was privately theirs. Just Brooklyn and Damian.

Such a moment was only stopped when small drops of water fell on their eyelids, cheeks, and
noses.

As quickly as they could, the teens gathered their things, and while Brook clutched Rosa
protectively in one arm and both bags in the other, Damian had carried Cassie close to his
side and Titus' leash was held in the other as they all made a run to the safety of the Robins
egg colored Jeep not too far away.

Cassie had laughed all the way there, not minding the rain one bit even as Damian quickly
pushed the little girl's hood and wrapped his cologne scented black scarf around her for
warmth.

Once on their way to the apartment, Brook couldn't help but smirk along with Damian at all
the couples getting soaked by the unexpected pouring rain as they left the park's premises.

Cassie sang along to her preferred songs with Titus' accompanying howls in the back seats
(with Rosa in her special chair sleeping soundly despite the noise). Damian drove lazily and
carefully through the streets decked in damp red and pink decorations, which is when Brook
realized that perhaps this so called Valentines Day was not completely awful.

As they parked in her garage space, when Brooklyn carried the little girl in her arms to avoid
her slipping on a puddle, Cassie pulled on her red locks as she pointed excitedly at the gray
skies.
There, flying though the clouds and rain was a flash of green that made Cassie squeal in
excitement at the sight of the famous Green Lantern. Damian was carrying Titus easily
despite the dog's huge size, he too was staring at the sky but with annoyance rather than joy.

"Great, Hal Jordan is back. Father must be truly desperate to call him for aid" he groaned,
closing Roscoe's door.

Brook smiled. Maybe Damian was staring to let some people in, but it would be a while until
he treated the mighty Justice League with fondness.

"Wonder what your dad chose at that party when that hero was brought up" she teased, which
started a race full of laughs and squeals up the stairs.

The two teens spent the rest of the afternoon in the warmth of the apartment, letting Titus
sleep and Cassie watch her cartoons while the child cuddled between their bodies.

Damian had complained he despised cuddling, but did not remove the girl's little arms as they
caged him in a sleepy hug. Damian's own arm around Brook's shoulder was a steady comfort
as the two suffered peacefully though a few hours of cartoons of talking animals.

After ordering food to feed their bellies, Damian had declared he'd have to go home soon,
and Cassie's mom texted that she'd be at Brook's soon to pick up her child.

Cassie had clung to Damian despite his soft sneer, and made him promise to visit her more
often. Despite Damian's usual unrelenting nature, he'd nodded at the request. Brook had
smiled at the faint display of kindness from her kneeling position when putting on the little
girl's rain boots back on.

Scott's gentle daughter had rushed to the ringing front door after hugging them all, even Rosa
and Titus. She'd left with the promise to keep the day's happenings a secret, the sweets hidden
in her coat as payment for said secrecy.

Still, Brook's cheeks reddened slightly as the little girl yelled out, "Bye new mom and dad!"

Damian had chocked on his coffee at the words, but both of them decided to spare themselves
the embarrassment of talking about that little girl's jokes as Brook walked Damian down to
the garage with the black dane standing before them protectively in case there were any
threats.

Overall, the day had been great...her first Valentines Day with a significant other certainly
one she'd remember for a long time to come...and treasure as well.

Damian himself did not complain about any aspect of the evening, In fact, since they were
now in the privacy of her garage space, he'd pulled Brook close by the hips and both of them
silently asked for affection with their eyes.

It was nice to see those emerald eyes of his again, no disguise in the way now that they were
alone.
They leaned in close without hesitation, locking their lips into a forbidden kiss that made her
smile. It wasn't long or intense, there was no need for that as they both relaxed in the other's
hold.

She was really starting to get used to that form of affection, found she cherished it no matter
how long apart they were.

"Happy Valentines Day, Dami" Brook whispered against his lips. Meaning every word of it
this time.

Damian's calloused hand caressed her cheek a few times, his eyes never leaving her own as
he pecked her lips a few times.

"Leave Valentine out of it" Damian dared to joke, "It's you and I together no matter the
day...whatever it takes remember?"

Brooklyn smiled broadly at the words, nodding in agreement as she pecked his soft lips one
last time before letting him into Roscoe. Titus had stood on his hind legs before getting into
the back seat with Rosa, his height large enough for his paws to reach Brook's shoulders in a
makeshift hug.

Brook had just laughed wildly at the odd gesture that left Damian wide eyed, whispering a
goodbye to the dog as well as telling him how spoiled he was getting.

It was an hour or so later that Brooklyn was in bed watching the news with a few Stark
Industry documents on her lap that she got a text.

Not from Damian, but a photo showing mom and dad in a fancy restaurant, saluting the
camera.

The Avengers chat blasted with congratulatory comments including some from Brook,
Yelena, and even Harley. Brooklyn had only smiled broader when Steve took a few tries to
send a photo of him and Nat at the compound movie room to her and Yelena, the only teens
who knew of the secret relationship between the captain and widow.

Steve must've sent it out of some old chivalrous attempt to thank the girls for keeping their
secret, or perhaps he felt the need to reassure the two assassin teens that Nat truly was being
treated properly.

Brooklyn was just glad everyone seemed to be having a good day just as she'd had.

Compared to those two couples, Brooklyn knew her own Valentines Day had been anything
but conventional as she stared at the daggers by her bed. Regardless, she found that her and
Damian's way of doing things was perfect in its own way. There was a beauty to the
simplicity, a calmness in the secrecy of it, and a comfort in the affection they both had
towards one another no matter what.

Maybe she would not refer to such a holiday as Valentine's day....but perhaps having a day to
themselves was worthy of celebration. A day of just being together just as any couple could.
Yes...not bad at all.
 Parent Day
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Brooklyn POV-

Brook did not bother to show any ounce of grace as she flopped onto her seat, earning a
chuckle from Yelena in the desk beside her own. The Stark couldn't help but wince as the
impact of her careless sitting brought back a flash of pain from her right hip.

Hero work was not necessarily difficult, even if it took up quite a lot of time to go on patrols.
It was the small injuries that tended to be the bothersome part of the secret hero life.

Small bruises on the face were simple to cover with make-up (even if Damian and Peter
hated that approach at times). But both boys understood that as of their current celebrity
standing in the city, if one civilian were to note the place a hero was hit in a fight, then they
saw a kid with a bruise in the same spot the next day...well, something as simple as that could
a threat to their identities.

Unfortunately, sometimes injuries were a little less easily dismissed, like the scrapes on
Brook's hip from getting tossed into a brick wall yesterday during patrols by some mutant
who might rival even Grandpa Steve in strength.

It wasn't often anyone from the team got serious injuries, especially Jon and Peter with that
quick (dare she say superhuman) healing of theirs. Still, though not deadly or gruesome, even
a simple set of deep scratches were enough to ruin Brook's school day...the place she had to
sit all day long...great.

As was custom, the days she and Damian could spend on their own or simply when they
made it back to the apartment after patrols, the two would nurse one another back to health.
They must look so odd sometimes, two teens sitting on a couch with the occasional bandages
and bruises on their bodies as they huddled together for warmth, or just recounted the battles
of the day the way normal people spoke of the weather.

When Damian took his own seat beside her, still busy in a conversation with Jon about which
Wayne sibling they would sacrifice in the event of a zombie apocalypse, Brook was not
surprised as his hand snaked into her own, even when he'd dislocated his thumb during that
fight yesterday.

The gesture was as always silent reminder that they stood together and that all was well.

He'd no doubt ask Brooklyn to re-bandage her hip once they all made it to the 'secret lair'.
The Stark was just trying to figure out how she would excuse the injury at the photo shoot
she was doing this weekend. How she despised those things...
Before she could throw a pencil at a chuckling Yelena from when Brook brought up the
modeling job, the school bell rang, and in came coach looking tired as ever, even when class
had not yet begun.

Brooklyn was already taking out her notebook, wondering what dumb video would be
displayed today on proper care of infants. Still, she'd likely end up writing everything
mentioned.

To her surprise, and that of her classmates, Mr. Wilson did not immediately move to sit on his
desk. No, he moved to the podium in the middle of the room slowly as if the extra steps away
from his usual routine were too much to handle.

He fixed those familiar glasses properly against his nose, and to Brook's surprise, shot her
and Damian a look of despair, like whatever he was about to say would cause monumental
pain to himself. Somehow, that despair had something to do with her and Dami.

"Listen up class, before we get started on today's lesson, I am here to remind you that
tomorrow we'll have our annual Parent Day hosted to remind you students how hard your
parents work to provide for your ungrateful asses...as well as provide inside information on
jobs you may be interested in for the future" the man said tiredly.

Brooklyn and Yelena went wide eyed at the assignment, looking amongst their friends for
some sort of guidance on the matter.

Damian was already groaning in annoyance, with Jon shooting his best friend a pitiful look.
Similarly, MJ did not seem so pleased, and Peter had just gone ahead and stoped looking at
the front of the class, eyes on the windows beside him where birds passed mid-flight.

The only ones with some level of excitement like the rest of the class were Harry, Jon, Ned,
and Tanya...well, Harry seemed to have a devilish smile that made Brook dread what was to
come.

Her old school had never introduced anything called Parent Day, not when it had been a
private facility where the rich usually dumped their children in for the day without a care in
the world. No one ever bothered mentioning their parents unless it was to brag about money.

Brook noticed most teens in class seemed excited as their gazes lingered on three students.

Brooklyn, Damian, and Harry.

Mr. Wilson paused all hushed whispers as he added with further annoyance, "Unfortunately,
this year we'll be having Parent Day during this class period" the coach looked between
Damian and Brook once again before adding, "In case some of our new students are unaware
of this yearly tradition, you are to bring in one or both of your parents to school tomorrow.
It's not mandatory of course, but it is encouraged for them to do it so other kids may learn
about an array of jobs available out in the world. Each parent who is willing will give a short
speech about their profession, and that is that"
For a few seconds, Brook's heart sank...or at least it did until she realized she wasn't the girl
from months ago, stuck alone in a shitty apartment. Now she had a family, a really great one
at that.

She was no longer an orphan.

Brooklyn wondered if her otets would actually wish to come to a high school on her behalf,
was more than surprised when after sending a quick text, he answered back before class was
over saying he was looking forward to going.

Mom sent a text to Brook around lunch time as well, with a surprising thank you for allowing
dad to go, saying Tony was incredibly excited to attend and had been bragging to the
Avengers all day that his daughter and son had asked him to go to a school event.

Brooklyn herself couldn't deny that she too was feeling rather happy about the arrangement,
even when Harley stopped by the lunch table, reminding Brook that dad could be a
bit...embarrassing at times.

Her happiness remained though, because she didn't care about her dad embarrassing her, the
only thing she cared about was that she had a dad that was willing to go. Harley had been
happy as well since he never truly had a dad until Tony came along, but her poor brother was
slightly concerned dad would remember Harley had a crush on a girl at school (who just so
happened to be in that class).

If anyone had to worry about teasing, it would be Brook's brother.

At least as a way to ease the worry in his mind, Harley mentioned Agent Claire (Harley's
personal SHIELD security agent at this point) had already made arrangements to get a fake
parent to go in for her, a responsibility that just so happened to fall towards Agent Coulson.
That had sent Brook and Peter into a fit laughter, and gained them a middle finger from said
agent across the cafeteria.

Harley's quick visit ended when they agreed to keep an eye out on Tony during Parent Day,
then the young boy had scurried back to his table, and from what Brook could see, the blond
boy was already blushing madly at the words from that girl he went to the school dance with.

It was when Brooklyn was still basking in the realization that she had a family that her heart
stopped beating at the sight of the quiet table.

Ned, Tanya and Harry were the only ones engaged in a conversation, trying to decide how
they would mask their awe when a disguised Superman came in on family day. But Jon's own
mirth was overpowered by that soft gaze he sent the girl seated by his side.

Yelena was not eating her food for once. Her gaze was on no one but the table, and though
she looked far from attacking someone for no reason, Brooklyn knew her sestra long enough
to know the blonde was repressing something.

She wasn't the only one.

Despite Peter's brief joy at Agent Claire's solution to Thursday, his gaze was on his phone, a
sad expression on his face.

As if such discontentment were contagious, Brooklyn was quick to notice even Damian was
more quiet than usual. His had did not hold her own under the table. His gaze was not exactly
pained, but rather annoyed. She was likely the only one at the table that could tell the
difference between his glares, but to her it was as evident as the storm clouds in the sky that
something was wrong.

Still, he said nothing about it as lunch came to an end. Neither did anyone else.

It didn't take long to figure out why her friends and Damian were so upset.

In Chemistry, Harry had become aware of their lab parter's quiet nature and had asked the
question she'd been to reluctant to.

"Ok, out with it Pete. What's got you all sad today?"

Peter had looked rather shocked that someone had noticed a change in him, but it did not take
a lot of convincing for him to set down his test tubes, cast a far away glance towards her and
Harry as he said softly, "It's nothing big really. It's just that whenever Parent Day came about,
May always showed up. Now that she has to work a day shift at the hospital on
Thursday...well, it just brings back memories that my own parents aren't here for that stuff
anymore"

Brooklyn had felt like a complete idiot for not realizing it, for letting the joy of having dad
agree to coming cloud her vision, to not even think there were some of her friends that might
not find as much excitement over the event.

Shrugging his goggles back on, Peter added without looking at them, "I guess it just
reminded me that I'll be alone, that no one will care that Richard and Mary Parker won't walk
through these doors"

Peter had never spoken about his family, even when Brook had been quick to realize they
both had to have died at some point for Peter to end up alone with May. Maybe that is why
she clutched his gloved hands in a rare form of affection normally reserved for Damian.

Peter only smiled sadly at their intertwined hands, at the arm Harry had draped across his
shoulders, as she dared to ask, "Since they wont be able to come, can you tell us what their
jobs were? You know...to get job ideas"

The three of them knew Brooklyn already had a profession to focus on, that her question was
not out of curiosity for a future career, but concern for a friend that perhaps needed to share
memories of his parents with others to keep them more alive in this world.

At least she hoped so, Brook was still working with the whole affection thing...

"May used to tell me they were scientists, that they had died in a plane crash when I was six"
he said, then looked around the room before whispering, "When Mr. Stark asked me to work
with him after I helped stop the guy who started making the alien weapons, when I joined
SHIELD for training...I found out the truth wasn't as simple as that"

Brook had NEVER bothered to read Peter's file, even when her assassin and spy instincts
sometimes burned at the need to research those she was closest to. She'd never wanted to
invade the privacy of a friend, not when she had too many secrets of her own.

"Our parents knew each other for a long time, after we became friends that is," Harry
whispered back, "I thought they worked at Oscorp until my father mentioned one day that he
had no idea where your parents worked"

Peter nodded sadly, "Not even my aunt knows. I only found out by accident when I was
trying to find a photo of them as a birthday gift for May, using one of the computers at the
compound. It opened up files on them, said they were SHIELD agents"

Had Brooklyn not been so shocked by the news, she might've basked in the irony of it all.
Their son working where they once did, all because of enhanced abilities Peter mentioned
getting by accident during an Oscorp field trip when he was fourteen.

They had likely died with that secret, must've been good agents or part of Hydra, even if that
possibility seemed slim.

The teen was suddenly curious if Peter ever went to the wall in the compound dedicated to
the fallen agents of SHIELD to see his parent's names, if Fury or the other Avengers were
even aware of that little connection pushed forward by chance.

That must be where Peter got his heroic tendencies...

Where Brook was quietly trying to process this, Harry's eyes were already bulging out,
looking wildly at Peter as he whispered, "And you were never going to tell us? That's crazy
dude!"

Peter only smiled faintly, as if it was forced.

"I haven't really told anyone because I'm not even sure what to do with that information. May
thinks they were good people who just met an accidental end...but my parents died on the
field, and I don't have the access to see any more than that. Plus, this was the old SHIELD
that was still infiltrated by Hydra...what if my parents were-"

Brook cut him off with a quick hug, one no one else in the class could see thanks to their
table in the corner of the chemistry room.

"I'm sure your parents were good people Peter, and if it means that much to you, I'm sure we
can ask around to get those files to you one day. I know they'd be very proud of what you
have become, not because you are in SHIELD, but because you are a hero" she said.

Harry was quick to add, "And you won't be alone! We both know that ever year my dad gets
the dates mixed up for school stuff, thank god. We'll be 'alone' together"

At last Peter smiled, and he seemed to be in a better mood for the remainder class of the day.
His words and confessions stuck to Brooklyn though, and when the group made it to their
secret hide out in the unassuming cafe, that same feeling of helplessness grew as Brook
noticed Yelena was working silently by her desk. Clearly still upset.

The teen felt like an idiot for not remembering Yelena was as much an orphan as Brook had
been for years. It had completely slipped her mind because to the Stark, Yelena was family.
The Avengers were as much her family as they were to Brook.

Now that dad had realized Yelena wasn't going to betray anyone or try and kidnap Brook,
he'd even begun treating the blonde the way he was with her. At times she forgot Yelena's
lack of family when Brook saw the way she got along with Harley...when the three of them
spent the weekends at the compound helping the boy with his Spanish homework.

Recently, Yelena had taken to spend more time with Brook's little family, a fact she did not
think twice about. When Brook and her family had their Stark Sunday Movie Nights, Yelena
did not look out of place on the couch seated between Brooklyn and Tony.

In a way, when Brook thought of Yelena as her sestra, it was not just because of their
upbringing together in the Red Room...but because Yelena truly had grown to become a sister
to her.

Still, Brook bit the inside of her cheek and summoned enough valor to go up to the blonde
then, daring to ask if all was well, knowing full well it wasn't.

As expected, it took a lot longer to get answers out of Yelena, who was much more stubborn
and secretive than Peter.

Eventually, Brooklyn just sat beside the blonde, and instead of pushing further, she just said,
"If you want, I can talk dad and Fury into letting us go to the compound on Thursday. Just
spend the day catching up on movies or something..."

Even if Brooklyn was excited to show off her dad to the class, she'd gladly push that aside if
it meant Yelena was happier. Her sestra had been through too much already.

Yelena just leaned back on her chair, pushing her legs against her chest as she shot Brook a
raised brow of amusement.

"Everyone at school already whispers about me not having parents, thinking they died and
now I'm just bothering your family with having to put a roof over my head. Just because I
don't have a family doesn't mean you have to give up Parent Day for me. It's just a stupid day
anyways, what does it matter that I have no parents? I especially I don't want some random
SHIELD agent filling in for me, so can we just drop it?" Yelena replied.

Even with the ease and calm in which Yelena said it, Brooklyn knew the blonde was far from
meaning what she said. But Yelena would not back down, even if she would prefer staying at
the compound, she'd make them go to school in an attempt to look strong.

Brook had heard the whispers at school too, had listened as some students seemed to trade
thoughts on how Yelena's parents had died. They knew she was Russian, that Brook's mother
had been as well. They thought Yelena was a relative from Pepper's side of the family, a very
distant relative but not much more than that.

Thankfully, when the press and media had gotten wind of Brooklyn Stark going to Midtown
with a distant cousin, no one had bothered looking into it. The Stark's were a 'dying race', the
Potts family was big and flourishing. There was supposedly nothing to look into.

Still, even now, Brooklyn wasn't sure this was the right time to bring up what Ivan had once
said. Brook had yet to find absolute proof that he and Yelena were related, but a part of her
never pushed to get that done in fear that it would be true.

The only one that knew that little secret was Damian, and even he had thought it would be a
poor idea to share the information without any evidence.

It could change nothing, or everything, but for now it would certainly not brighten Yelena's
mood knowing at least one of her parents was alive and that it was the man they despised
more than anyone else in this world.

Brooklyn wanted to remind Yelena that she was not alone, make it clear that she WAS family.
Unfortunately, the police radio announced a robbery on the other side of town, and Yelena
was quick to volunteer herself to go, a concerned Jon quick to follow after a visibly upset
teammate.

Brook found herself upset when she finally crashed onto her bed hours later.

The team had investigated the other hidden speakeasies and done some much needed
homework earlier, which made Brook unable to pull Damian aside to ask what he was upset
about.

Luckily, as she pulled out her walkie-talkie, Damian was quick to answer.

It was easier to talk to Damian in a sense, more so than it had been with Peter and Yelena.
She knew the two of them could talk about anything going on in their minds, which is why
she did not hesitate to inquire about what aspect of parent day had Damian in such a sour
mood.

Brook heard Damian sigh in response, barking noises from Titus and growls from Goliath in
the background as Dami admitted tiredly, "I've had school events like these before back in
Gotham, and father is always either too busy doing Batman or company work to attend. I'm
not bothered much by his absence...I'm just...peeved by the comments others like to gossip
about afterwards"

Comments?

"You mean kids wonder why your extremely busy CEO dad can't come? Seriously?" she
asked, trying to wage just how much this truly bothered Damian. With him it was sometimes
hard to tell.
The way Brook saw it, perhaps the absence of Talia was the truly troubling matter, or perhaps
those nosy students could be an additional bother. Either way, Brook's heart broke once again
as it already had twice today when Damian corrected, "Not exactly. In Gotham...well...the
city thinks my dad had a simple 'one night stand' with a random woman, and that when I was
born, he sent me to grow up and study abroad so he wouldn't have to deal with me as his heir.
They think that father sees me as lesser and unworthy because I am of Arab and Chinese
descent"

...

That was the stupidest thing Brook had ever heard in her life.

Why would his origins make him lesser in any way, how could someone think that!? Brook
and Yelena being Russians did not make them lesser, Tanya and Peter having Italian roots did
not make them inferior, neither did it for MJ to be of African-American blood, or for Ned to
be Filipino-American, for Harry to be white, not even Jon being part alien should be a judge
of someone's worth!

Maybe it was because in the assassin world ethnicity meant nothing in terms of strength, that
she saw no reason why people would dare to think that way. But it boiled her blood knowing
there were people out there that frowned upon Damian for something so irrelevant, so out of
his control.

"You are far superior than them in every way Damian. Their jealousy is idiotic at best"

Damian hummed in agreement, but still added rather silently, as if he'd never shared any of
this information before, "Either way, days like these are just a way for people to gossip about
my family once my father doesn't show. It doesn't matter really, but its rather annoying,
which is why don't tell anyone days like this happen even when Kent Sr. always gets me in
trouble afterwards"

Brook realized then that some part of Damian WANTED his father to show, or someone to at
least. Even if he was not aware of that fact himself, Brook knew Dami cared about his family,
cared about being seen as the strongest and most worthy of his brothers too.

He still thought he had a lot to prove, and people's whispers probably casted enough doubt in
his mind to rattle that self-esteem.

Maybe that is why when she got off the walkie-talkie with Damian, Brook quickly had GIL
turn on the lights as she made her way to the living room with a sleeping Rosa in her arms.
She stayed up making a few calls, startling her sleepy parents and a not so exhausted Alfred
(who's phone number she had thanks to Barbara Wayne's brace upgrades).

By morning, it was all a blur of sorts, how she'd told her mom and dad about Yelena's
loneliness, of Peter's sadness. She'd let herself ACTUALLY cry along with her parents as she
recounted all that was said, as Brooklyn explained to them that she knew what not having
parents was like, that she wouldn't wish it upon anyone.
Tony and Pepper had calmed her down that night (even when they seemed upset themselves),
had listened to her words and responded to them with reassurances that her friends would not
feel alone, not when Brook would be there by their side as a supportive friend.

She was once again reminded that those friends were family, and that as a Stark, Brooklyn
just had to remember to fight for them, whatever it takes.

The teen had been able to dry her tears and get her voice steady again by the time she dialed
Alfred's phone number. Despite being nearly midnight, the butler seemed more awake than
Brook was most days.

He'd refrained from seeming surprised at the sudden call. Normally Brook only sent a
message when she was about to send an upgrade for the braces, along with a text instructions
on what to do with them.

Instead of asking why she would be rude enough to call him so late, the first thing Alfred
Pennyworth said had been, "Are you alright Mistress Brooklyn? Is there anything I can do for
you?"

Brook had almost sagged in relief at the kind words, at the kindness behind them.

It was all a haze now, but she recalled mentioning Parent Day to the old man, telling him that
Damian would be too proud to ask anyone to go, but that she believed it would be good for
someone to do so.

Alfred's kind voice had been gentle as he thanked Brooklyn for her concern, as he promised
to help in any way he could and that he'd take care of it himself.

Brook wasn't sure what 'taking care' of it meant, but as the hour for Parent Day grew nearer
on that sunny Thursday , Brooklyn still had a keen eye on her troubled friends.

Peter had walked into the class without a smile for once, even when MJ was talking to him
about some book of hers, an act that often had his full attention.

Yelena had not been much better. As soon as she took a seat and saw all the Parent Day
banners in the classroom, she'd pulled up the black hood of her sweater and kept her eyes on
the table.

Damian had seemed calmer that the pervious two, looking indifferent as he settled on the seat
beside Brooklyn's. They hadn't been able to talk privately today during History thanks to a
test, and they'd been in opposite teams for gym class. She hadn't been able to ask if Alfred
had spoken to him this morning.

Sooner than she would've liked, the class bell rung, and the commotion outside the halls was
a brief distraction as Mr. Wilson walked into the room. He'd been equally as enthusiastic as
yesterday when it came to talking about Parent Day, but he'd at least tried to put up a front of
fake energy as the parents hustled into the room shortly after.
One by one, parents came inside, waving at their children as they moved to the front of the
class as they were introduced by mr. Wilson himself.

Tanya's father was clad in his cop uniform, and he'd beamed when Tanya waved frantically
his way. Brook had to fight the instinct to hide when she remembered the man had met her
alter ego more times than Brooklyn Stark.

Ned's mom had come in with firefighter gear, and the mother-son duo had sent little pistol
signals at one another that almost threatened a smile from Brook's face.

MJ's mom had been easy to identify, seeing as she had the same beautiful coffee curls as her
daughter. The two did not have a big greeting of any sort, probably because Mrs. Watson (not
Jones..) was busy carrying a stack of books. Clearly, MJ had failed to mention her mom was a
history professor all this time they'd been friends.

Harry's father did in fact not show up, but her friend's eyes seemed to light up excitedly as his
family nanny walked in. Harry had never smiled brighter as the middle aged woman with
graying hair walked in, a sight that made the class chuckle as Harry cheered for her with all
his heart.

When Clark Kent came inside the room, the back room tables with her friends were trying
very hard to forget just who this man was. For the moment, he was a reporter, not the
strongest being in the planet. He was just the man from the Daily Planet who wrote famous
articles of Superman.

Most girls in class smiled at the man in the glasses, had giggled at barely concealed 'good
looks' too. Mr. Kent had smiled at his son as soon as he walked in, a son who had actually
stood up from his desk to shout a greeting to his father.

Mr. Kent had sent a wave to Damian as well, and surprisingly, one to Brook and the rest of
the group. Brook thought Peter, Ned, and Harry might faint at the sight...in all fairness, they
almost did.

Flash's dad was the last to enter the class, a man in an elegant tuxedo who seemed more
preoccupied with his phone to notice Flash was waving at him. In fact, now that Brook
noticed, it seemed like Flash was looking to the door, as if expecting his mother to show up.

No one else walked in though.

Her friend's gazes (along with the class) shot to the table Brook and Damian were at, some
even to Harry's as well. Everyone had clearly expected a round two of the Tony and Bruce
rivalry left on hold since the Romea and Julian play incident, but neither parent had shown.

Mr. Wilson was the only one who looked happy at the sight, clearly not willing to put up with
a bickering family rivalry.

Damian was looking towards Brook as well, his gaze stronger than the others, a brow raised
in silent question as his hand subtly encompassed her own.
Brooklyn had not in fact been stood up by her dad. Last night when she'd talked to her
parents, she'd somberly suggested dad stay in Harley's class instead of alternating between
the two. Since some of her friends would not get to have a parent that would come, she did
not want them to suffer that alone.

And if people wanted to gossip about Damian when his dad did not show, then they would
have to gossip about her as well. She wouldn't let him go through that alone, not ever again.

Of course dad did not know that last part.

Tony had been very understanding, saying he was proud of her for thinking of others she
cared for, even mom had shared a few nods of agreement at the words. So Brook was not
surprised as the teacher looked around for a Mr. Wayne and Mr. Stark that would never show.
She just whispered to her friends, "I asked my dad to stay with Harley so we go through this
together..." then subtly turned to Damian as she added, "...rumors and all"

Yelena's harsh gaze had softened at the words, and understanding what Brook had done, she'd
whispered a simple thank you in their mother tongue. Peter had smiled sadly at her, and
Damian had only tightened his hold on her hand in silent thanks.

It was once some of the presentations had begun that the classroom doors opened to reveal
someone rather unexpected.

Walking in like he owned the place, Dick Grayson was clad in a police outfit that perhaps fit
him too well, blue eyes bright with joy as he waved at Damian before helping someone else
into the room.

Brook felt Damian's hold on her hand go slack at the sight of a pregnant Selina Wayne
waddling into the room with Dick's arm as support.

The room went quiet that the sight of the famous Waynes, especially as Dick said, "I'm sorry
we're late! Hope you still have room for a Bludhaven cop and the ex CEO of Randolf
Industries"

The team already knew Selina was Cat Woman, Harry had sworn to throw away his poster of
the woman when he found out she was Damian's step-mom. But none of them knew she'd
once been a CEO, Brooklyn had just thought she'd been a criminal all her life and nothing
more than that.

Of course, the shock of finding out Cat Woman had once run a business was not why
everyone was so struck with shock. Even in Queens, the Waynes were perceived as much
royalty as the Starks were.

Mr. Wilson straightened at the sight of the Waynes, and merely nodded as he gave up his
treasured seat for a pregnant Selina to take.

Damian was wide eyed, staring at Dick and his step mom as if they would disappear.
Students were no longer whispering about the absence of Bruce Wayne and what that could
mean, but instead choosing to praise how good Dick looked in that outfit, how Damian was
lucky to have a step-mom who'd come to school when pregnant.

No nasty rumors, just whispers of a supportive big brother and step-mom.

Brook had taken hold of Damian's hand then, silently thanking the almighty Alfred for what
he'd done today.

She'd thought that would be it as far as surprises went...but Brook had been dead wrong.

As speeches were getting ready to begin again, to further the shock of everyone in the room,
the classroom door had opened once more. Though Brooklyn was almost expecting another
Wayne to show up, it was the sight of the woman in the elegant white suit that made Brook's
hand be the one that went slack this time.

Mom was a radiant as ever, smiling and greeting the parents at the front as she apologized for
her tardiness due to a meeting. Pepper WAS supposed to be busy at the meeting right
now....all day in fact...how was she here?

Pepper's gaze immediately turned to Brooklyn then, and it was with a surprising joy that
mom 'whispered' to Brook, "Hey sweetie!"

The teen could only smile back, a smile so bright at the sight of the woman who had adopted
her, taken Brook as her own even when they shared no blood between them.

Mom did not move far from the door afterwards, she merely turned back to look at where
she'd come from only for Brook's dad to swagger inside, clad in a suit just as expensive
looking as mom's save for the faded rock t-shirt.

Dad removed his signature sunglasses once he made it to mom's side, and the whispering of
students became nothing of importance as dad winked at a startled Brook.

Even as cheers for Iron Man erupted in the room, dad did not seem to mind them one bit. He
announced to the stunned classroom, "I had to make a stop at my son's class, I hope Brook,
Peter, and Yelena don't mind my tardiness. I swear, I'm usually hours late to my
appointments. And to the staff member who plastered inspirational posters of me around the
school hallways, hope that person gets a raise!"

The parents burst into laughter at the silly joke, even the two Waynes, but it was the students
who were stuck with mouths agape at the mention of Peter and Yelena. Brook couldn't help
but beam at the two confused teens, couldn't help but feel like shedding a few tears at the
gentle smile Yelena shot Tony, at the reddened cheeks Peter displayed.

Brooklyn wanted nothing more than to thank her parents for this, but was unable to as the
presentations went on.

When a parent was about to present, their child was called to the front to stand by their side.
Some presented in groups, like Tanya's dad and Damian's brother due to their similar work
field.

Damian had been called up then just as Tanya had, and Dick had placed a reassuring hand on
Damian's shoulder throughout the whole thing as he made the class laugh with a few jokes
along the way.

Damian still scowled as usual, but Brook smiled when she realized that was his happy scowl.
He WAS glad his big brother had come, did not even bother to shrug off the hand at his
shoulder.

One by one, Brook's friends stepped to the front to stand by their parents, and when the time
came for the CEO's to step forward, Flash was the first to step up to his indifferent father.

Brook smiled as mom called her forward, and she fought a bigger smile when dad called
Peter and Yelena to his side with open arms.

The two teens had similar reactions to that. They both looked happy, grateful, if not almost
dazed.

Dad had spent part of his speech mentioning how Peter was like a son to him, one of the
brightest minds from his intern pool. Pete had blushed at the praise, at the reassuring hand
Tony had on his shoulder.

Dad seemed to hesitate only for a few seconds before saying that Yelena was like a daughter
to him as well, that it was an honor to represent her parent on that day.

Brook could've sworn she saw a bit of tears pool inside the blonde's eyes at the words.

When Yelena did not pull away from his hold or bother to correct him in front of the class,
dad had grown bolder by just referring to Yelena as his older daughter during his speech, to
which Brook complained Yelena was only a month older, much to the amusement of their
audience.

Damian had been called up by Selina as well, and though the woman respected Damian's
personal space (and kept a distance from the Starks), she spoke proudly of Damian when
referring to the amount of work and preparation it takes to hold such a big role in a company,
something she was glad Dami seemed ready for.

Perhaps Selina only referred to Damian by his name knowing it might make him angry.
Brook caught the woman almost saying the word 'son' a few times, but refrained from using it
likely because of the knowledge that Damian only viewed Talia as his mom.

Brook had once encouraged Damian to at least stand being around the woman, and he'd done
so 'out of curiosity' of what that might be like. Brooklyn had noticed Damian no longer called
Selina a harlot, that he did not mind spending time with the woman just mindlessly petting
cats on weekend afternoons.

It was in that moment that Brooklyn realized the woman was good despite her title of Cat
Woman. Maybe some day Damian would grow to see her as a proper mom the way Brook
had with Pepper.

The fact that the pregnant woman had put the effort to come and was still mindful of his
emotions behind such an appearance...it made Brook hopeful that perhaps Damian would
have a positive mother-son relationship one day.

The end of the speeches had come by quickly, and even after class had been extended by an
hour to accommodate for such an event, they'd still managed to finish early, which left time
to mingle.

Mindful of the presence of the two Waynes, Brook had to leave Damian's side with little
more than a fake sneer as mom and dad made their way towards her. Peter and Yelena had
been ushered too, and while Brook received a warm hug from mom, Pete was pulled into a
quick side embrace by dad.

By the looks of it, Peter had never been hugged by Tony before, and the teen melted at the
comfortable embrace.

The space between mom and dad was empty, at least until their arms extended in silent
question to the stunned Yelena before them all.

It took a few seconds, but Yelena rushed over to where two arms encased the blonde between
them. The five of them remained in that embrace for a while, that was until Harry brought the
nanny who raised him to meet his friends, as MJ and Ned brought their own parents to join
just as Tanya managed to pry her dad from Damian's brother so she could join the group.

Quick introductions were made, and the Starks didn't let go of Yelena and Peter until they got
a moment alone, just the five of them.

Brook had hugged both her parents tight, thanking them for doing this.

"Its the least we could do, we love Peter and Yelena too" mom said, ruffling Peter's hair as
dad started looking between Brook and Pete for no reason with a wide smirk. Like he was
plotting something.

"I hope you weren't too embarrassed by my sudden appearance, underoos"

Peter went red, "Of course not, Mr. Stark! I'm very happy you came! This has to be the best
Parent Day I've had in a long time sir!"

Brooklyn noticed the way dad's smile grew at the words, a look of complete happiness as he
looked at everyone present. in their little circle. Lately, Brook had only seen the great and
mighty Tony Stark stressed, with the occasional strained smile. Not today.

Today it seemed Brook's little family was truly the happiest they could be, and once again,
she was struck with the realization that this was one of the golden memories of her life that
would remain like a special Polaroid stored in her mind.

It wasn't until Peter was swept away by Ned's mom that Brook noticed her parents shooting
silent looks between one another.
Once all the other families had begun going around the room to inspect posters or just be able
to talk with their children, dad surprised them all by turning to Yelena.

Dad was often flamboyant, confident, and maybe a little too over the top...but in that moment
he seemed hesitant.

One subtle nod from Pepper was enough for him to walk over to Yelena. Mom took care to
keep a hand on Brook' shoulder, to let dad and her sestra have that moment alone.

The teens watched as Tony reached into his suit pocket, fishing out a jewelry box containing
a. golden set of earnings to fit the four holes on her left ear, the ones Natasha had pierced
herself at Yelena's request. They'd done it after the three widows had watched a movie of
rockstars with similar style Yelena seemed to like, even when Pepper had yelled their ears off
for the dangers of piercing someone's ears.

Since Yelena was not yet given any money from SHIELD, Brook had thought to buy some
special earnings for her in the future...but it seemed dad had beat her to it.

As the blonde picked them up from the delicate box, Brook was able to see golden earnings
themselves were quite beautiful if not unique.

"I know its unexpected, but in my defense, Pepper and I were going to give you these when
you graduated the first phase of your SHIELD training. Daphne told us your name means
shining light, so we thought you might like having some stars to represent that" dad said,
clearly trying to sound more confident than he felt.

Yelena was looking at the delicate earnings as if she couldn't quite believe they were real.

It wasn't until dad spoke again that Brook realized what the gift was for, something she
should've noted earlier had she been smarter and not as confused.

Dad placed his hands on the pockets of his pants, trying to look casual as he added, "You
must be familiar with Brook's necklace by now, the one of the Brooklyn Bridge. And Harley's
golden bracelet has a Harley-Davidson car. That is why we thought our 'Natalie Cook', the
shining light, should have a few stars of her own"

Brook clutched her own necklace tightly at the realization of the silent question dad was
trying to ask.

It was a tradition of sorts for all Starks to have something golden to unite one another. Dad
had his suit, mom had her golden engagement ring, and Brook and Harley had their
mentioned jewelry...now, if Yelena wished to accept it, she would have not just the earnings,
but a new last name.

Had mom and dad really discussed brining Yelena into the family for this long? Brook had
mentioned Yelena had wanted to get her ears pierced as small talk weeks ago, which is when
they must've bought the earnings, especially since they looked custom made.
When the teen looked away from the shocked Yelena towards Pepper, Brook saw nothing but
a huge smile and faint tears in mom's eyes. The same look mom had when she adopted
Brooklyn and Harley.

She squeezed mom's hand, both of them sharing a smile until Yelena's glossy eyes turned to
dad, who was now fidgeting with his blue-tinted sunglasses.

In a voice that was soft and gentle like a plea, Yelena asked, "Why do it? Why bring me into
your family when I am...who I am"

Dad surprised both Red Room teens when he ruffled the blonde's hair fondly.

"We all have shitty pasts, well except for Pepper. But family makes us stronger and better. I
guess what we are trying to say is that we don't care about the past, we just care about you. If
you wish, if you feel comfortable and ready, we would like for you to join our mess of a
family. If you're not ready, its no big deal, nothing has to change. You'll still have an open
seat at every family gathering and we'll always be a text away if you need us" Tony said, and
when Yelena's hesitant eyes turned to Brook as if looking for anger or an objection, she
nodded happily in agreement to her dad's unexpected words.

"I told you, you're already my sister" Brooklyn said, "If you're ready to open up to the
experience of having an official family, I can tell you from MY personal experience that you
won't regret it. The public attention is a little annoying, but being a Stark is nothing short of
amazing"

Yelena's shoulders seemed to relax slightly at the words, but she still turned her gaze to
Pepper, steady voice faltering as she asked, "What about you? Are you ok with having me as
part of your family? You are too kind...you deserve a better child"

Mom moved then, opening her arms but not forcing a hug to Yelena as she said, "I've seen
you grow much these past few months. I know you don't see it yet, but YOU are a good kid.
I'd love nothing more for you to be part of the family not because I feel an obligation or pity
for your past, but because you ARE one of us. I love making you snacks after training,
lending you new music to listen to, and seeing the light in your eyes when you do something
good. You're already like a daughter to me"

Yelena wasted no time afterwards to rush into Pepper's waiting embrace.

As the two hugged and Yelena did her best to hide the tears falling from her face, dad
approached with an even bigger smile, pulling Brook into a side hug as he said, "We talked to
Harley about it this morning, he's more than happy to have Yelena as part of the family. I'm
glad you are too"

Brooklyn chuckled, recalling the first time Yelena and her saw one another after many years
apart. They'd fought for their lives back in Brook's apartment, one ended up wrapped in
curtains, and the other paralyzed with poison.

Now here they were, two products of Ivan's evil deeds, now with new fates and a wonderful
family.
It was when Brook and Tony joined the other two in a big family hug, that the Stark realized
this was probably the best outcome she could've ever hoped for in life. Something she had
wished for since the day dad mentioned Yelena had a family with them before they left on
their first mission.

Brook was not too surprised when Harley snuck into the class shortly after, likely anxious to
see if he'd gained a new sister.

A simple nod from dad was enough for the tall boy to rush over and hug Yelena, who's
cheeks were still rosy and tears still visible as she returned Harley's embrace gently, laughing
slightly when he said, "I'm glad you chose us Lena. Now Brook and I have a new big sister!"

Even Brook chuckled at that.

The Stark's ignored any lingering looks from families nearby as they each took a hold of one
of Yelena's four earnings. As careful as they could, they each put one in place, almost like a
welcoming ceremony despite the fact that papers weren't signed.

To further the welcome into the family, dad has suggested Yelena be given a middle name so
she could have a name picked out by her parents, especially since they hadn't been able to do
it for Brook or Harley.

It seemed mom had already given it some thought when she suggested something rather
peculiar.

"In my Russian lessons I've come across the name Fyodorovna a lot. I think it was the name
of a Russian empress, would you like it?" Pepper asked.

Yelena smiled, wiping the tears from her eyes as she nodded.

"A first name from my sestra, a middle name from my mama, and a last name from my
otets...yeah, I'd like that very much" she whispered, gently enough that Brook too had to wipe
the few tears that finally fell from her own eyes after such an incredible day.

And so, in that seemingly normal Parent Day, Yelena Fyodorovna Stark joined the family.

Dad had promised the documents were ready to be signed back at the compound, and the
public announcement would come out when Yelena was ready for it. It turned out, Yelena so
proud of her new family, she had no objections to it being announced, even if that day was
tomorrow. And so it would be.

As the four sat around a lone desk, Brook couldn't help but whisper to her dad, "Watch it dad,
you keep adopting kids and you'll end up seeming a lot like Bruce Wayne and his army of
kids" with a subtle gesture towards a smirking Dick Grayson, who stood happily between
Dami and Selina across the room.

Dad had made a gagging nose in response, arguing, "I've only adopted two!" which sent
Brook into a fit of laughs that lasted until the class bell rang at last.
The only thing that made the day better was that once the bell rang, dad stopped the three
teens from saying goodbye. He'd merely put his shades back on, smirked at them while
ignoring the bustling around the room as he said, "Guess who went to the office earlier to
release you from school for a family emergency?"

Brook and Yelena shared a look, both ready for a fight ahead despite the emotional
rollercoaster of today.

"What's wrong? A weapon's bust?" Brook asked nervously, only for dad to laugh hard
enough he almost toppled backwards in his chair.

"What? No! We're all going out for donuts!" Tony said like it was the most obvious thing in
the world, "You three are too responsible. I'm gonna have to help change that"

Pepper smacked him in the arm.

"This isn't a habit! School is important, but I'm allowing this because we have something
special to celebrate. Its just a little lie that won't be used again."

Just as the three teens realized their remaining classes were of little interest compared to the
sugary goodness of donuts, Peter was passing by to get his backpack, only to be stopped by
dad's outstretched arm.

"Slow your horses underoos! You're excused from school for the rest of the day, we're all
going out for donuts until we have a sugar crash" dad said, and at the sight of Peter's
confusion and hesitation, he added, "Aunt May already approved it. Save the homework
speech for later, you kids need to live a little. Go get your things!"

Brook and Yelena had already reached for their stuff, and it was then that an unmovable Peter
asked, "Isn't that wrong? What about the city? We have patrols after this!"

The weight of responsibility halted Brook's movements, only for a second as dad mentioned
Agent Claire and Coulson would inform them if anything was amiss. Today was for
celebration after all.

So the teens let themselves be whisked away under a false family emergency, only stopping
to tell their friends the good news of the adoption, which they all beamed at, especially a Jon
in the distance who couldn't come over to them, but still shot a big thumbs up to Yelena as he
packed his stuff.

Superhuman hearing...

Because of the Waynes and her own family being present, Brook could not risk leaving to
explain things to Damian. She could barely shoot him a subtle nod before they were both
pulled to opposite sides of the hall by their respective families.

At least she could catch him up tonight, and Damian's eased expression was enough for her to
realize having his brother and step-mom here had eased something in him. Brook really had
to send Alfred a gift basket or something...but of course she couldn't seeing as she was
supposed to feign not caring about Damian all that much.

Maybe calling Alfred had been a little bold, but hopefully the butler would think nothing of
it.

The halls buzzed with gossip as they passed, especially when all four teens went out the front
doors with smiles on their faces.

By the time they made it to the front of the school, a vehicle was already waiting for them.

Happy smirked at them as they piled into the 'soccer-mom' van, as dad referred to it. Never
mind that it was a hot red color that called more attention that a limousine would. Still, the
large party fit comfortably, and as dad blasted his favorite rock classics on their way to the
donut shop, Happy said, "Looks like I have yet another Stark Jr. to babysit" but did not seem
mad about it in the least.

They all did go into a sugar rush after a few boxes of donuts (much to the horror and awe of
the small store owners), and after returning to her loft from the compound when everyone
had been present to see the adoption papers be signed, Brooklyn crashed into bed with a
smile on her face, staring at the new framed polaroid Fury had taken.

It rested by Brook's beside, a frozen moment in time depicting the Avengers in high spirits,
and seated on a table before the heroes were the Starks and Peter, all smiling at the blonde
girl in the middle of the table still clutching her signed documents.

It was her family, placed next to another recently framed photo of Brook and her team around
a table in their secret lair, each with a delicious milkshake and shit-eating grins (save for
Damian), thanks to a joke Harry had made.

It was a beautiful family, one Brooklyn wouldn't trade for the world.

*******

Damian Wayne POV-

Damian was perhaps not as surprised by Dick's appearance as he was by Selina's. Dick had a
habit of always being there when Damian needed him, especially when he did not.

In truth, Dick sometimes acted more like Damian's father than his older brother....

Dick had always been the most persistent person in the Wayne manor to try and make
Damian 'happy'. The two of them trained together with Nightwing as an instructor of sorts,
and even when Damian had never taken him up on the offer of being a shoulder to cry on, the
offer had always been there.

Dick was one of the few siblings Damian could stand, but Selina was nothing like that.

Damian was not dumb enough not to recognize he'd been less that friendly to the woman,
even with his current efforts to at least make it look like he was trying to change that.
But she'd come, even when traveling from place to place was getting tiring thanks to the fetus
in her growing stomach.

Damian knew that even if his own mother was not the leader of the League, she would've
deemed coming to this even as a waste of time. Mother would not give him the playful smile
Selina did, nor would Talia come expecting nothing in return.

That's how it always was with mother.

Mother would not give Damian handouts, anything he wanted he'd have to earn. Anything
she did for him, like train him, came at a cost. If he wanted extra time to train, mother would
have Damian complete a few killings for it. Meeting father had come at a cost too, beating
her in battle, or so was the agreement since he was young.

When Damian approached his brother and Selina after the speeches were over, he'd turned to
the woman, asking what she wanted or thought she was entitled to for coming. Damian had
ignored Dick's warning glare at the words, had only locked eyes with the smaller woman as
she replied lazily, "Nothing obviously. I'll always be here if you need someone, all you have
to do is ask"

Sincerity. That was sincerity in her eyes.

Damian had doubted the statement of 'kindness' not just because she was an ex-criminal, but
because thats not what mothers were supposed to be like...or at least not what his own had
acted like.

Sneaking a brief glance over the woman's arm, he beheld Brook's own mother, a woman with
a kind gaze who held Brooklyn close like a prized treasure. He'd met Pepper Potts, knew very
well the woman would gladly come to things like these if it mean supporting her new
daughter.

Either way, Damian was not willing to process what scheming Selina had thought of for
coming. All he could find himself saying was, "Don't think this makes you my mother, I
already have one, and it's not you"

Despite Dick's evident displeasure at the words, Selina just smiled and replied, "I'm not here
to replace anyone. Like I said little bird, I'm just here to support you"

Damian would've likely pushed with less that pleasant comments had Clark and Jon not
joined them in their little corner of the room. They'd likely been spying, those nosy
kryptonians....

Clark, it seemed, was not as much of a righteous golden-boy as father believed, because he
offered to get the teens out of school early to go get some pizza. Dick was quick to agree
(despite the offer being for the two teens), and thought Damian considered arguing, Jon
mentioned Brook, Peter, and Yelena were going out of school as well, that SHIELD would
take care of making sure the city was safe.
So he was dragged along to a useless outing, listening to his brother go on about how
Midtown was such a great place, as the youngest Wayne kept Rosa from crying at the
restaurant.

Surprisingly, in the many topics of conversations, not once did Dick mention any hate for the
Starks, even when Clark mentioned someone was recently adopted into their mix. A fact
Brook had confirmed that night during their walkie-talkie conversation before bed.

Damian did not know why he did it, but as they were getting ready to go back to Gotham...he
helped Selina into the car, took care of carrying her purse inside the manor, but did not say
another word to her as he moved to his room.

It was a small an inconsequential bit of kindness anyways....its not like he was grateful.

*****

Selina Kyle (Wayne) POV-

As soon as Selina and Bruce settled into bed, she knew Damian must be long asleep.

Despite all the vigilante work Bruce had busied himself with that day, he still had enough
energy to ask how the school thing went. With Selina in his arms, the woman smiled at the
memory.

Damian was not like the other Wayne kids. He had only begun to tolerate her for a few
months, and she'd been hesitant going to Midtown would cause a scene...but it had not. All
Selina could say for sure is that she might've made some long overdue progress with Damian.

Bruce had sleepily thanked her for going through the trouble of trying, which Selina knew
referred to the past flings he'd had, that they had not put enough effort into getting close to
Damian at all. But Damian would likely be as much her child as the one in her stomach one
day, if he'd allow it.

In return for his thanks, she whispered some of her own, for letting her go in his stead when
Alfred had mentioned the school event during breakfast.

"Don't you want me to tell Damian that you were gonna go? So he knows you actually care"
Selina had whispered, only to receive a shake of his head against her neck.

Sometimes it made her want to laugh, the Dark Night being a cuddle lover...

"No" Bruce replied just as softly, deep voice reverberating against her skin as he added, "It
won't make a difference. He's more comfortable with Dick around anyways"

The sad thing was, he truly believed that. Bruce was not a perfect man, far from it actually,
and that same logic applied to him as a father. But he never bothered to change his kids'
minds.

Selina knew that Bruce always called Dick after hard work days full of death because he
knew the eldest boy still had nightmares and stayed awake on those nights sleep was needed
 most. She had known for some time that her husband always ordered fresh flowers to be
delivered every month to Tim's parents' graves. Had seen the tall brooding man stay to train
with Jason to help the boy let off some steam when something was bothering him, Bruce took
all the kicks and punches those days without complaint.

Though it did not happen often, there were days when Barbara was too lost in her grief for
her father that Bruce would personally ask Alfred to prepare her favorite meal, even when he
despised eating lobster. His silent kindness also extended towards his other two daughters,
with him giving encouraging words to Cass after patrols or missions knowing she didn't often
get them growing up, or buying dark chocolate on his way home from work when Stephanie's
period pains were too severe.

Selina wasn't often the kind of woman that loved to meddle in other peoples business,
well...she was, but when it came to this family, Selina couldn't help but try a little harder
when it came to attempting to keep it together, despite the rising arguments and
misunderstandings.

Selina went to sleep that day with many things in mind. The progress with Damian, wonder
of their future of their family, as well as that peculiar stare the little bird had shared with that
Stark girl before they left the classroom.

That little subtle nod between the two.

She knew better than to tell Bruce about it, but the woman was certain the two kids had not
glared at one another...and that made her very curious.

Chapter End Notes

Little fact of the day. It is actually canonical that Peter's parent were SHIELD agents.
They were killed on a mission against Red Skull, but I'd like to think that in this world,
they died in a mission against something perhaps related to WW2 crime investigations.
I've been dying to reveal that information since book 1!

As for Damian and Yelena, I also wanted to show some of the family-oriented problems
they have. Expand on them in a way that showed a bit of the vulnerability neither of
them are too eager to let the world see.

At the end of the day, they all have people that care from them outside of the team, and I
thought that was vital to show for everyone as the next chapters come along!
 Standstill at Balcony
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Brooklyn POV-

The last few days had been hectic to say the least.

Yelena's adoption process took a few days to file out officially, even more so thanks to the
media conferences dad had to do about it. But Brooklyn was glad to say she now officially
had a new sister, one she'd actually considered as such before the paperwork had been
finished.

That whole process was probably the most peaceful part of the last few days though.

Aside from the usual caring of Rosa, stopping petty crimes in the streets and looking out for
bigger ones with dread in her blood, Brooklyn had been tasked with approving more tasks for
the ever nearing Stark Expo due a few months from now.

Nights had been long lately, days even longer, not just for her but for everyone in the team.

With no signs from the Joker or the person who held his leash, it seemed the teens were
hunting for nothing more than a ghost at times.

After decathlon practice, the Dynasty had taken to go to their secret base at the Briar Rose
Cafe to continue their research while teams took turns on patrols. It was exhausting to say the
least, and all those activities left little to no time to pursue more favorable tasks like going to
the arcade or the movies with her friends. It certainly left less time for Brooklyn and Damian
to meet one on one.

Perhaps it was that lack of time alone that had made them careless on that stormy evening.

With Jon and Yelena on patrols and the rest of the team out for D&D night, Brook and
Damian had all but jumped at the chance of spending some time alone together in her
apartment. They had not planned anything big. Both of them seemed more than content to
just lay on the couch watching movies, letting their muscles rest and their small bruises and
injuries heal in peace.

When Damian arrived around 5pm, they did just that.

As the sounds of heavy thunder sang beyond the windows of the living room, Brooklyn
huddled to Damian's side, both under a particularly fluffy blanket Pepper had sent over a few
days ago thanks to the drop in temperature and her motherly concern.

The two teens must've looked rather odd, not just by the fact that they were public enemies
cuddling in the same room, but because they both wore large sweaters and comfortable
sweatpants that likely did not fit the image the world saw them as.
Brook's hair was free of styling products at this time of day, her little makeup removed, and
the gifted Gotham High sweatshirt would likely send dad to his grave early if he ever saw it.
In a similar state of absolute relaxation, Damian had not fussed when she'd offered him some
colorful fluffy socks, and there was something about the fireplace light that made his black
hair look all the more enticing in its natural state of fluff and even a few visible curls.

Damian had sworn he'd throw her down the largest building in Queens if she ever told
anyone what he looked like, but they both knew that was nothing more than empty words.
Just as Brook could never harm him, it seemed he shared the same sentiment.

Still, Brook felt the urge to tell Dami he looked rather dashing this way, just as much as he
did dressed to perfection in all his finery.

She spent her time leaned against his chest, tracing the little birthmarks on his face as fondly
as she could, brushing her calloused fingers along his silky hair too. They too absentmindedly
traced the bandages on their arms, the small injuries they were healing from due to patrols
past.

There was something about those actions that always seemed to either relax Damian, or
enhance a more preferable reaction from him. Or so she had noticed after all this time.

Something about her fingers running along his scalp sent shivers across his body, which
Brook now felt while being this close to him. By now, it came as no surprise when the arms
around her body tightened, or when his lips began leaving small (almost shy) pecks along the
crown of her head, then her nose, and when she looked up to meet his intense emerald eyes,
that intensity sparked by a single look focused on her lips.

At this point in their relationship, kissing came naturally to both of them. It was a common
act of reassurance and comfort only ever displayed behind closed doors, but the secrecy of it
did not diminish the feeling such simple lock of lips enacted.

There was no longer awkwardness behind their movements when they locked their lips, as
their hands cupped the other's cheeks. Despite the growing list of kisses they has shared, the
beauty and marvelous feeling of them did not diminish in the least.

Today was not like most days though.

Normally, the two would share quick kisses, and those deeper and longer ones were generally
rather slow and enjoyable. They often let their hands wander to the other's hair, cheeks, hips,
or in Brook's case, to Damian's chest.

It was a sweet declaration of affection, a reminder that they stood as one and the feelings they
had (despite being rather forbidden) stood the test of time.

Perhaps it was the fact that they hadn't been able to share this kind of intimacy in a while
since Valentine's Day, that Brook felt something different about this kiss, like she and
Damian were less in control than usual.
The shift of their lips was quicker today, yet neither had trouble keeping up. It was like her
mind couldn't get enough of him, which is probably why without her knowing, she'd shifted
closer to Damian.

His strong hands had found their place at her hips, pulling them closer until she sat on his
legs.

Brook barely registered that the blanket that had been keeping them warm fell into a heap on
the floor, not that it mattered considering her body was warm with the flush of her cheeks
when she noted how close together they were.

Her legs rested beside his own, her chest practically glued to his as they engaged in yet
another long and passionate kiss that was quicker than the last as thunder raged outdoors.

As if on their own accord, Brook's hands flew to Damian's soft locks, pulling occasionally
just to hear the foreign growl-like sounds coming from him, reverberating along her own lips.

It wasn't until their lips parted for air, when Damian snaked his hands across her back, that
she registered that his was new territory. Dami seemed to realize it too, because as his lips
lingered on the skin of her neck, he whispered, "I don't know what's happening, beloved"

Brooklyn was panting just as strongly, nose nudging his own fondly as she whispered back,
"Do you want to stop? Are you ok?"

Damian quickly shook his head, not even bothering to acknowledge the blush across his own
cheeks as he replied rather hesitantly, "I don't mind this. Tell me when you want me to stop
and we will"

It was an offer. A request to explore this new action further.

Brooklyn found she did not mind this new development, not in the least. So she nodded and
watched as Damian slowly leaned not towards her lips, but her neck. He left small pecks
across the skin there, and as he followed the column of her throat down with longer lasting
kisses, Brook had to close her eyes and sigh at the wonderful feeling of it all.

When he made it to a spot between her collarbone and neck, Brooklyn let out an even more
content sound that seemed to catch Damian by surprise. He removed his lips from the spot
instantly, then asked softly in a voice that didn't belong to the Damian he was around others,
"Have I hurt you, beloved?"

Hurt. No.

All Brooklyn knew is that she wanted his lips back there again, so she gently motioned his
head back to her neck, and lost in her haze of contentment, she whispered back in Russian,
"Ne ostanavlivaysya"

It was a good thing the League of Assassins had taught Damian Russian, otherwise Brooklyn
wasn't sure she could've mustered up the English language to tell him not to stop.
With Damian's hot breath back on her neck and his hands tracing the scars along her covered
back, he whispered, "As you wish", then hummed proudly as he kissed that same spot from
before.

Brooklyn was momentarily brought back into that odd haze, the one that didn't have room to
think about anything else other than Damian. It was odd considering that her assassin-trained
mind often took in multiple thoughts at once.

This felt like bliss, like a breath of fresh air.

It was enough that when Damian's face met her own again, she met his kisses with as much
intensity as he seemed to posses earlier. Those hands of his tightened comfortably around her
body even as her own wandered down from his hair to his neck.

Brook pulled away slightly after an eternity, ignoring the glossiness of both their lips from
their frantic contact as her eyes met Damian's in silent question. Damian's usual calmness in
his features was gone, replaced by strong eyes that beheld her with intensity, a rare smile on
his lips.

Damian nodded when her eyes honed towards his own exposed neck, his hands pulling her
downward gently so she could kiss long his jaw, then slowly down the skin of his neck.

Brook heard rather than saw, as Dami's breathing picked up with each kiss.

He too had reverted back to his first language as she had.

He'd whisper things like, hadha shueur jayid (feels good), sama' (heaven) and her favorite of
all, manhub (beloved). Each was replied to with a kiss from her lips against his warm skin,
across the small scars barely visible from fights and training past.

When he gently (but urgently) pulled her lips back to his and their kiss moved from a quick
dance of lips to an exploring of the other's mouth with their tongues, Brooklyn felt her body
grow warmer.

At first she feared her fire abilities were acting up and considered backing up to quell the
flames, but she was quick to realize that the warmth did not come from the foreign space
matter in her body, but just from herself.

It did not feel dangerous at all. It just felt good... like flying above Queens, eating ice cream
with her family, or just hanging out at the Briar Cafe with her friends.

Brooklyn only hoped Damian was feeling something similar to what she was. The Stark
knew he didn't often show many emotions amongst others, but she'd grown to understand that
did not mean he did not possess them.

It was as his fingers moved down to the edge of her hoodie, when the motion of their kiss
made it so he accidentally lifted the fabric up that both teens stopped.

Emerald orbs met her chocolate brown ones, both wide in shock as they realized this was
potentially another boundary they'd yet to cross.
Brook was no fool. Inexperienced with relationships and love, yes.

Damian had seen her back before, that did not bother her. Brooklyn had (and was currently)
wearing Dami's clothes, but he'd never been the one to take articles of clothing off her.

It seemed like a big step of sorts, something other couples might not linger or think much on,
but to her and Damian who were taking things one step at a time...it seemed huge in that
moment. Hell, they'd recently only started referring to kissing one another as 'showing or
giving affection'.

Now here they were, with Damian's warm hands on her waist, Gotham High hoodie raised up
a few centimeters from its resting spot, both teens looking flushed and worried as if one of
them was about to bolt out of the apartment.

But neither of them did.

Brooklyn waited for Damian to say he was feeling uncomfortable, was waiting for herself to
have a thought of a similar manner, but neither came. Their partnership was founded on trust
and respect, but more than that, it was strengthened by their ability to work through problems
and hurdles together.

This wasn't really a hurdle, but more like a closed door waiting to be opened when the time
was right. Brooklyn realized that...maybe it was. This thing they had, it was working and
flourishing everyday. There was no one she trusted more in this world, and one look at his
softening eyes told her he still felt the same.

"Are you sure we should continue?" Damian asked, "I don't want to hurt you"

Brook smiled, bringing her hands into view between them, looking for flames that were not
there.

"Funny, I was gonna say that. I'm the one with flame throwers for hands" she replied, earning
a singular chuckle from him. One that only made her smile all the more....how she'd grown to
treasure that sound.

Damian did not hesitate to lean closer, his forehead resting against her own as he whispered,
"We're acting like hormonal teenagers. Yet I can't find it in my mind to push you away..."

She knew what he meant. It was like there was a force between them, a magnetism so strong
it was intoxicating.

"I don't mind being a normal teenager for a bit" Brook whispered, watching as Damian
slowly reached his hands underneath Brooklyn's sweater, warm hands tracing her bare skin
for once instead of over an item of clothing.

He did not rush to a lovers caress, his hands were gentler than ever as he traced all scars and
wounds he already knew from memory. It was once his fingers delicately traced the newest of
scars, the one Ivan had given her months ago, that his other hand brought her face delicately
towards his own so their lips could lock in an intense kiss.
Somehow during that kiss, as his hands continued to roam her back, tracing shyly at the
fabric of her brasier, her own had moved (with permission) to trace the skin of his stomach.

Her hands did not trace many scars, but they mapped out the planes of Damian's muscles, of
his warm chest while still keeping his own sweater on as their smiles grew and their kisses
turned wild with emotions set free.

It was a good thing they had not actually take off any articles of clothing, because as she was
lost in the bliss of Damian's mouth opening further for her....a loud, shocked, and high
pitched noise came from their left where the open balcony lay to set in the sweet smell of rain
to come.

Brook had never heard such a sound, likely wouldn't have if she hadn't made the decision to
update her security to not activate when someone from the team arrived at her home (mostly
of out convenience due to patrol schedules).

In a manner of seconds, both of the teens' hands had left the other's skin, as as they both
immediately whirled their heads left towards the balcony with weapons in hand from their
place hidden between the cushions....Brooklyn felt all blood drain from her body instantly.

For a millisecond, the sight of lightning by the balcony with a figure standing indoors
uninvited made Brooklyn assume it was Talia paying another unwelcome visit.

She wasn't entirely sure if the reality was better or worse.

Brook was sure Damian hadn't been the one to push her off the couch, in fact, she was more
certain she'd propelled herself off when she finally registered Jon's and Yelena's appearance,
both open mouthed and still clad in their 'hero' outfits.

The Stark landed harshly on the coffee table, but was less concerned with the pain radiating
off her recent bruises as she tried pushing down the hoodie that had ridden up slightly.
Damian too looked a little pale, his calm mask faltering due to the blush on his cheeks and
the anger in his eyes.

Jon looked like he'd seen a ghost. In fact, Brooklyn was sure he wasn't even breathing. His
hand lingered limply in the air, pointing their way as his open mouth tried to form words that
only translated as tiny squeals.

Ah, so thats where that odd noise came from.

Yelena for once wasn't much better. Brooklyn's recently acquired sister was as wide eyed as
the Kryptonian, but where Jon's face help absolute disbelief, hers seemed more inclined
towards confusion.

Confusion because Yelena had seen Brook kissing the guy she'd sworn she'd only just started
tolerating as a close ally and friend. Yelena was a Stark now, knew full well the Waynes were
a family enemy the way the League members had been when the two had been Red Room
assassins.
Yelena knew that what she had just seen was...not allowed.

There weren't enough Russian curse-words to encompass all Brook was feeling right now....

Brook too was trying to form some actual words, trying to come up with a lie or an excuse
that could somehow dismiss what her two teammates had seen. When she turned to Damian
for help, the Wayne looked too lost in his head trying to come up with a lie...or was perhaps
considering the perks of killing Jon to keep the secret as it was minutes ago.

Yelena was the first to speak, first dropping her bō staff on the dinner table, unwinding her
blonde hair from its loose braid as she smirked at Brook.

"We...well, we came here to let you know patrols went by smoothly so the boys could go
home together for once. But it appears we've interrupted something, care to explain sister?"
Yelena said, helping the statue-like Jon round the couch so they could both take a seat.

The kryptonian could only nod in agreement, mouth still agape, shaking finger now pointing
at Brook and Damian as if stuck in a loop.

Brooklyn did her best to look...put together...as she stood from the messy coffee table, calmly
moving to sit back on the couch, but keeping her distance with Damian further than usual as
if that would do anything to erase what had happened.

Brook was aware she was presented with a choice then.

Yelena was her sister, someone Brook trusted with her life...how could she not trust her with
this secret then? In an ideal world, Brooklyn would've wanted some time to reveal the truth,
perhaps in a calmer manner than this. Or maybe she would've kept this something more with
Damian a secret forever in fear of being told just how wrong this was in everyone else's eyes.

Deciding to throw everything to hell, Brook steeled her nerves as she told them, "Damian and
I....the two of us...we have been...I mean, we are....look, its very complicated to explain but
you must swear not to say anything to anyone. You both know full well just how much our
families hate one another and if they find out we're ever more than just enemies...it will ruin
everything"

Jon finally snapped out of his shock, at least enough to say, "How long has this been going on
exactly?"

Brook wasn't quite sure how to answer that.

Did he mean their truce? Friendship? Their something more?

Damian leaned back on the couch, looking exhausted and still a little angry.

"We've been courting since school resumed a few weeks ago" Dami said, trying to regain his
usual scowl, but the blush across his cheeks was still evident thanks to the fireplace light.

Jon nodded, once, twice, thrice, then enough times that Brooklyn was sure he was stuck in a
loop.
"What does courting mean exactly?" Jon dared to ask, looking between both teens as he
added, "Is that a word for that...very passionate kiss you two were sharing? I'll admit, I didn't
know Damian even knew how to do that considering I wasn't even aware he'd even HAD a
first kiss to begin with-"

Yelena was kind enough to cut off his rambling, explaining courting was another word for
dating, followed by Damian huffing with a roll of his eyes as he explained he'd kissed prior to
this day. Never mind that their first kiss had been at a mall, a distraction while running away
from certain death.

Jon of course didn't need to know that.

"Damian," Jon said softly, at last some of that confusion fading as he said with a smile,
"Despite the monumental trauma you just game me, I know I didn't imagine the smile on
your face just now. You're happy with Brook, aren't you? This...korting?...makes you happy"

Was that hope in Jon's voice?

Brooklyn had been expecting him and Yelena to start yelling their heart out at being left in
the dark, at being foolish pursuing such a dangerous relationship. Neither the kryptonian of
Brook's sister looked to even possess a drop of anger though.

It was enough to render her speechless as she looked to Damian, wondering how much he
would say and reveal, how honest about his own feelings the Wayne would be...

***

Jon Kent POV-

Jon was the kind of person who was not startled easily... he had super hearing and strength
after all, lived surrounded by heroes of a magnitude of exceptional abilities, some even from
space.

Jon could see a unicorn out in the street and not be the least shocked by it, in fact, he'd likely
just squeal and go pet it instead.

Today had proven him wrong.

Just as the half-kryptonian through he knew himself quite well, Jon had assumed he knew his
best friend better than anyone in the world, even his parents.

Damian was a simple guy, one who hated to be touched, though emotions were foolish, and
did his best to keep everyone at arms length while kicking everyone's ass.

Yet Jon's exemplary vision had not been having an off day when he'd flown in, only to see
said friend making-out with the one person he was supposed to despise, doing so with so
much emotion and joy that Jon had not through Damian capable of feeling.

Sure, he'd always hoped Damian would find someone to like, had been wishing he and
Brooklyn would grow closer for a few months now...he'd just never thought seeing them on a
couch kissing intensely was a possibility.

Hell, Jon had assumed Damian didn't even know how to kiss to begin with.

Most of Jon's emotions at the moment were shock and a nearly uncontrollable joy that
threatened to burst out of his body. He had a thousand questions he wanted to ask, but mostly
he just wanted to tackle Damian into a hug to congratulate him for...well, feeling emotions.

Damian seemed to ponder the question Jon had asked, as if he wasn't sure what to say...which
was odd considering Damian always had a handful of snarky comments or insults at had for
any given occasion.

Something WAS different thought.

The pride he once held at knowing Damian perfectly vanished right then and there as his best
friend looked deep into his eyes. For once, the Wayne did not look stoically, but seemed
confident when he stated blandly, "First of all, its courting not korting. Korting means
discount in Dutch you pompous fool....As for the courting, Brooklyn and I would not be
together if it wasn't something both of us were content with. I kept the secret from everyone
because its whats best for her and I, I won't apologize for that. But let me make something
very clear Kent...if you tell a soul about what you witnessed, there is no place on this earth
that you will be able to hide in-"

Jon cut him off, standing from the couch as he yelled, "Are you crazy! Of course I won't tell
anyone! I was just wondering if you two really liked one another of this was just...a way
to...relax"

He knew that was not the case of course. Damian had often given the impression that he was
feelingless, but it always made Jon think that perhaps that meant he was the most capable out
of all of them to feel emotions stronger than anyone else.

Both Damian and Brooklyn went wide eyed at the words, at the assumption Jon had not
meant to sound so vulgar.

"We're not just kissing for the hell of it!" Brooklyn said, but then added more softly, "Damian
and I are together....we are something more than just the closest of friends"

They were dating....

Damian Wayne was dAtInG someone WILLINGLY...liked someone instead of just tolerating
them! He'd cared enough to keep them secret from his family and the world, to go against his
father's opinions despite that being the only person who's validation he seemed to care for.

Somehow, Jon's best friend had managed to woo the most desired girl in the world...and the
two seemed genuinely happy.

For a second, none of it really made sense. Then, all at once, memories of the past few
months flashed in Jon's eyes. Of the glances the two ex-assassins exchanged at school, the
way they worked perfectly as one when they trained, of Damian's insistence on staying at
Midtown despite their 'mission' being forfeit.

That day at school when they'd fought Harley Quinn, when they'd thought Damian had been
killed...Brooklyn had lost control right before his eyes, gone mad with the need to avenge 'her
enemy'. She'd approached Damian's still body so slowly, and that pain in her eyes had not
been at the fact that she'd lost a teammate...but rather someone she cared deeply for.

Jon recalled the time Brook was captured not long after, of how Damian too had gone out of
his mind to try and get to her back even when everyone thought she was dead at the bottom
of the ocean. Then when the assassins had taken her away once again, he hadn't hesitated at
being in his mother's clutches to try and get Brooklyn back.

How had Jon not noticed all of this sooner?

That day of the Yule Dance when he saw them both dancing carelessly, that had been real too,
the two of them stealing a dance outside where the judging eyes of the world could not see
them as they truly felt.

All those times Damian's heart picked up a few beats when Brook was around were not
because he was angry with her presence, but because he genuinely liked her...and it's not like
Jon did not know that already, he'd pried the confession out of Damian long ago about his
crush.

It was just unimaginable that the two actually ended up dating.

Jon wanted to ask how long this had been going on, how they had figured out their feelings,
who confessed first, and ask just what kind of boyfriend Damian was.

Yelena beat him to it when she asked wearily, "You have chosen Ra's al Ghul's heir as your
partner, sestra. Are you sure of your decision?"

Jon knew that wasn't an insult, Lena was genuinely curious...maybe even a bit protective of
her new sister. In a way, despite all that was happening, it warmed his heart to see his
girlfriend be like that.

Brooklyn did not even hesitate to nod, a small relief to Jon's heart, especially when he noted
Damian's relaxed heartbeat at the action.

Brook turned to face the teen beside her, slowly stretching out her hand for Damian to take.
Jon had to bite back a scream as his best friend took hold of said hand as if the two had done
such an act for all eternity. The Damian Jon thought he knew from half an hour ago wouldn't
even hold his own mother's hand, not that of his siblings, not even the kryptonian's.

It looked comfortable, a normal gesture between them that conveyed a thousand words and
reassurances Jon could not see, even with his superior eyes.

"I've never been more certain of anything" Brook replied to Yelena, voice strong and
confident as she added, "No one knows me better, is as close an equal or as great a friend and
ally. He helped pull me out if Ivan's shadows. When we talk or just share a simple gaze, I
know in my heart that I am not alone...I understand the meaning of peace"

The words were beautiful enough to make Jon want to cry, to thank the universe for finding
someone capable of getting through Damian's hard shell...someone who really seemed to care
for him.

It was all Jon ever wanted for his friend, a chance at happiness.

Such joy was only dimmed by the heart stopping realization that...oh shit...HE'D KISSED
DAMIAN I-CAN-KILL-YOU-WITH-MY-BARE-HANDS WAYNE'S GIRLFRIEND. Jon
suddenly realized just how luckily he was to be alive sitting on that couch, how much Flash
Thompson's own existence as well as that of every other interested boy in school with their
eyes set on Brook was likely hanging by a thread.

All of that was put on pause as he noticed Yelena leaning forward, eyes locked on the hands
Brook and Damian still held resting on the cushion between them.

Jon watched as Yelena seemed to process the words of her sister, and she assessed Damian
(who would've looked as serious as ever if it weren't for the hand held with Brook's) as if he
were an enemy.

After a few minutes, Yelena smiled softly, eyes softening as she said in what Jon assumed to
be Russian, "Leleyat' nechego. Byt' leleyayemym - eto chto-to. No leleyat' i leleyat' - eto vse"

Brooklyn nodded, as if she agreed with whatever was said with a bit of relief. When neither
girl translated, Jon turned to his friend, the walking Google translate, with pleading eyes.

Damian seemed stunned by the words, but still bothered to tell Jon, "She said; To cherish is
nothing. To be cherished is something. But to cherish and be cherished is everything"

"Its a Russian saying, something Natasha always says, or has been trying to get us to
understand for some time now" Brook explained, "Nat probably understands it at last because
she's dating Steve...but Yelena is right, now I get it too"

Jon was trying to gloss past the fact that apparently Black Widow and Captain America were
dating, which was hard, but his mind was too overcome with sudden guilt.

Guilt because Yelena seemed to understand that saying too...because of him.

By Brook's (and Damian's) relieved expressions, Jon realized the two expected him to be mad
about keeping the secret from him...but he was guilty of one of his own. It suddenly seemed
silly that Damian would not understand what caring for someone was like, that Jon would get
yelled at for caring so deeply for Lena.

Yelena seemed to hold some of that guilt as well, he'd noticed it more and more since she'd
become an official Stark.

Perhaps the teens before them could be eased knowing they weren't the only ones keeping
secrets, even when Jon and Lena themselves didn't really need to keep it as such after this
reveal.

Maybe now Jon could take Yelena out on fancier dates than just picnics atop skyscrapers,
perhaps even hold her hand when the team was present without the fear of Damian putting a
stop to the new relationship.

With a single nod of understanding, Yelena gave him the ok to reveal their own secret.

He'd done so with a shaky voice, focusing not just on gathering his wits, but also to try and
make that anger and unsureness leave his friend's face...both of them.

Jon started off by saying, "Damian, we've know one another since we were ten, and in that
time I thought you not hating me was a miracle, that such emotions were all one could ask of
you" he looked between the stunned pair as he added, "You have no idea how glad I am that I
was wrong, and I'm sorry that you feel the need to keep something that makes you happy a
secret. I promise I won't tell anyone, ever"

Yelena nodded beside him, "Tony Stark is a good man, and he is already a great father for
me, but my allegiance is always with you Brooklyn. No one, not even Natasha, will hear a
word from me"

Brooklyn released a relieved breath then, the boy beside her being more careful in showing
his own ease, but his heartbeat seemed to slow.

"You're not mad we kept this from you? From the team?" Brook asked.

Jon knew this was possibly the best time to reveal the own center of his joy as of late, the
relationship that had made him excited to get up in the mornings, made him look forward to
go to school and even more so to enhance his abilities.

Knowing Yelena felt the same, or was at least working towards unraveling such emotions, it
only made Jon feel like this was more real than any relationship he'd had before. His
relationship was not the same as Brook and Damian's, but Jon could tell it was just as
real...just as bright and important.

So he took in a deep breath, tried to relax, reminding himself that Damian would understand
now as he said, "Of course we're not mad, we wouldn't be ever, especially when I...we" he
said motioning between himself and a fidgeting Yelena, "we have a secret to share as well.
One we kept a secret because we thought you two might not understand or agree with"

Damian's eyes narrowed at that, a gesture that made Jon even more nervous than he already
was. It made him stutter, hands sweat, even when there was nothing to fear.

But Brooklyn spoke up then, eyes wide as she looked between him and Yelena, as if she'd
figured something out. Soft as a whisper, Brooklyn muttered, "That day at the base, when you
kissed all of us..."

Damian went stiff at the mention of that day, and Jon was wondering if he should run for the
hills after finding out he'd kissed his best friend's girlfriend. Damian could always change his
mind about killing him for that after all.

Brook didn't give Damian the chance to elaborate on whatever thoughts were in his head as
she added, almost in awe, "I thought I was seeing things, but..." she turned to Yelena, "you
kissed him back that day. Does that mean you...that you two are together?"

Jon slouched in relief on the couch, nodding vigorously as he reached for Yelena's hand,
which slid into his own with less resistance than he'd been prepared for.

Brooklyn was smiling softly at the two.

"I was always hoping that would be a thing. You're a good person Jon, definitely worthy of
my sister" the Stark said, and Jon did not miss the way Yelena's eyes gleamed at the word
'sister'.

It was to Damian's silent form they all turned then, but instead of demanding answers or
getting upset he was kept in the dark...all Damian said was, "You have no need to keep your
relationship a secret any longer"

Jon thought he imagined it, the very faint tug of Damian's lip into a ghost of a smile. Maybe
he HAD imagined that small gesture of approval...

For the remainder of the hour they stayed there, the four of them lounged on the couch, and
thought Brook and Damian were a lot more secretive about how their relationship began and
evolved, they sat side by side at some point.

Yelena and Jon had no such reservations, now that it felt like all tension in the room was
gone, he had not shied at keeping an arm around Yelena. She seemed relaxed as well, even
when Lena joked that THE Natasha Romanoff would tease her to the end of the Earth about
the relationship since it no longer needed to be a secret.

Somehow that only made Jon nervous. Sure, he had powers and all, but something told him
the famous Black Widow could skin him alive just as easily as Brooklyn could roast him into
oblivion.

When Jon left back to Gotham with Damian (and their robot children), the ride was quiet but
calm.

It was in that jeep that Jon couldn't help but feel a bit saddened that Damian would not be
able to experience his relationship freely, not with the Starks and Waynes at each other's
throats, the judgement of the media, their rival companies in the mix, and so many more
things that to Jon seemed too hard to handle.

But Damian had gotten to where he was all on his own. If there was anyone who could deal
with it all, it would be him.

As promised, Jon kept his word and refrained from mentioning anything at the dinner table
when he stayed over for at the Wayne Manor for the night. He had to keep quiet as Damian's
siblings teased his poor friend about silly things that Jon now knew were not true.
Thanks to a new rom-com Stephanie was ranting about at the table, Jason had joked about
Damian being the only one at the table without dating experience, which Jon knew was sooo
wrong. Tim had also teased about Damian getting his first kiss when he turned 40, which the
display from earlier when he and Brook had been...very immersed in one another...certainly
proved that wrong as well.

Not once did Jon shout out a single thing to prove them wrong though.

He kept his loyalty strong, and would do so for all eternity if it was necessary.

******

Tony Stark POV-

Tony was busy devouring a peanut butter sandwich when he saw Yelena come back home
with a smile on her face.

He was glad she was happy as of late, that she did not regret her decision of joining the
family.

Such joy, so unlike who Yelena used to be, always made him think of the past of not too long
ago. It only served to remind him of when they'd first met, when he'd been a protective
asshole, blinded to the fact that all that had happened to Brook in the Red Room had
happened to the blonde as well...and longer.

He still recalled when all suspicion for the girl left his body, back when he'd given her a gift
(Pepper's idea) a few weeks ago on Christmas morning. Yelena had looked up at Tony like
she had no idea what a gift was, that compassion existed in the world.

The way she had clutched that scarf tight like it was a new Lamborghini had made all of
Tony's anger at Brooklyn's attempted capture disappear...likely why he quickly ordered ten
more gifts for the teen and had them delivered in an hour as if he'd gotten all the presents
before hand.

It had been nice, seeing Yelena, Peter, Harley, and Brooklyn (the 'kids' of the compound)
seated before the 14 foot tall Christmas tree. While Peter and Harley were almost shy about
receiving gifts, he'll never forget the look of wonder and joy in the girls' eyes.

It almost broke his heart then, and made him feel like breaking Ivan's own blood-pumping
organ in a literal sense.

Since then, Tony had tried to make up for his past behavior by...showing Yelena a bit more
support. Wether that be during the teen's training hours with encouraging cheers, or just by
preparing some extra cereal in the mornings, Tony felt the strong need to make sure Yelena
was ok, even before she had become his daughter.

The day she and Brook had left for their first mission with Nat, even he'd been surprised by
his spike of worry that was not only directed at Brooklyn but also Yelena. The billionaire
hadn't planned on saying what he did that day, but he'd found that after a bit of his own shock
melted...that he meant it.

Yelena was Brooklyn's friend, a sister in a way only Natasha could understand.

Those two teens were attached to the hip during training, trusted one another with their lives.

They'd both taken leaps of faith with the Avengers, with being heroes too.

They were good kids, certainly better than he'd been at their age...Tony had just been a little
shocked to find he truly was starting to see Yelena the way he felt about Brook and Harley.
Like with his other children, Tony was rooting for Yelena's success, dreading her pain,
excited for her future, and eager to be there to see it all.

So when he'd told Yelena she had a family with them...he truly had meant it. This wasn't a
way to make up for the guilt he felt when it came to the Red Room, Tony just genuinely
cared for them.

He found that being a father was not as terrifying as he'd once feared. Sure, most of his
children were not..typical teens, but he wasn't a typical man either. But having a family with
Pepper, one that he hoped would only grow as time went by, it felt as right as being Iron
Man...like it was what he was always meant to be.

As he watched Yelena set down her coat and backpack, Tony realized the two hadn't really
seen one another much thanks to their busy schedules and the shitty state of the world.

Well, he'd seen Yelena in photos Brook sent to the family chat. Photos now called the fridge's
surface their home. Like all of his kid's school assignments and photos from months past,
Tony had printed those out too and placed them on the fridge behind him.

Pepper had mentioned she'd caught all three kids stopping by the fridge when no one was
looking, just to smile at the photos. Tony had failed to mention he did that too sometimes
when he got back to the compound after a long mission.

Still, maybe it was because he was a 'new father', but Tony often worried he was not spending
enough time with his kids, even when he knew they were just as busy as he was. Some part
of him was still worried he'd make the girls uncomfortable given their past, that he might say
the wrong thing one day and make them hate him.

Being told you have a family after not having one ever in your life must be odd, especially
considering Tony had actually once considered locking up Yelena for life.

But Yelena quelled all those worries when she walked into the kitchen and shot him a smile.

"How was the mission, otets ?" she asked while casually reaching for an orange soda.

Otets. The Russian word for father that Tony had never imagined would bring him such joy.

Tony tried to seem casual as he shrugged, doing his best to hide the bandage on his left arm
as he said, "Easy as pie. How was everything in Queen's today?"
Yelena's gaze lingered on some recent photos from their last movie night, one with herself
and Brooklyn stuffing chocolate covered popcorn into their mouths while Harley laughed at
them with chocolate covered lips of his own.

"Eventful" Yelena replied, shrugging off her Midtown Football jersey, and placing that red
Christmas scarf gently on the table. With almost tired eyes, she looked up at Tony and added
with that now familiar hint of a Russian accent, "I was with Brook for the afternoon and I
think we managed to talk through some things. She sends her regards, promised to send you
that music video you were talking about once she finishes her Stark Industries work"

When he was a teen, sometimes parents were the last thing Tony wanted prodding into his
life, so he did his best to quiet his curiosity about what things his two daughters had talked
through. Perhaps it was old assassin stuff? Maybe girl stuff?

Tony was just glad his daughter looked happy, that the golden earnings still gleamed bright
on her ear lobe.

Sometimes he worried that Brooklyn and Yelena were taking on too much work at once,
worried their patrols (even when accompanied by underoos) might be too dangerous. He
knew better than to ask them to stop, but he still worried daily for them.

Instead of saying that, Tony took the time to congratulate Yelena on an aced math test, even
when she claimed it was child's work. The two had a long conversation about the ease of high
school subjects until Harley made it back from his walk with Pepper.

The boy was smiling, on a video call with Brooklyn who seemed to be laughing with him at
some joke the two shared.

Tony's lovely fiancee beamed at the sight of him and Yelena, walking by to kiss the teen's
cheek as Harley rushed to hug Tony. The boy's jacket was cold from the wind, but Tony still
hugged back and greeted Brook with a joke about her tired eyes.

The rest of the Avengers had piled in sometime after, and soon when the kitchen was full of
life, Tony dared to take a second to appreciate it all. He thought back to years ago when he'd
spent his days alone in his Malibu mansion, in a dark kitchen convincing himself he had all
he needed in the world.

Then Pepper came, followed Happy and the Avengers, then his children...god it was still so
weird to say that, but it only made the man smile wider. It made all the worries of alien tech,
the Joker, the bothersome government, and unknown enemies wash way... if only for a few
hours.

He'd gone to bed peacefully as he had the past couple of days, curled up with Pepper, relaxed
knowing his children were down the hall, that Brooklyn was safely asleep in Queens. His
kids were doing well, they seemed happy too. It was a relief, a prideful moment that made
Tony want to laugh at his father's ghost.

Family truly was power, he mused, promising himself he truly would fight to keep it this
way...whatever it takes.
 For now, Tony would take advantage of the moments of peace, focus first on helping
Brooklyn with that little crush of hers. Ah, how fun that would turnout to be...

Chapter End Notes

Wow, this chapter was a lot right!? I really wanted to have Jon and Yelena know of the
little Damlyn secret before all that is to come, and I'd always planned it would end up in
such a funny situation like this.

Now that family ties are growing stronger, there is a lot at stake, but I wanted to have
these moments of peace now where everyone can bond and connect. I would suggest
you enjoy them as much as you can for now, there are some more amazing and adorable
moments to come of course, but don't forget there are others in the shadows planning
very unpleasant things.

I hope you enjoyed these chapters!

 The Little Brother

Damian Wayne POV-

Gotham was a unique city to say the least...

It was cold and dark, as if whatever gods ruled over the universe enacted a cruel punishment
of eternal darkness upon it. It was a city made for sinners, filled with people who were
content to spread chaos or stand by and watch it happen.

When he'd first arrived to the city as a ten year old assassin with only the fuel of vengeance
for his dead grandfather, Damian had felt that Gotham was the last place on earth he'd ever
call home.

At the time, Damian believed the world was his to command one day, that he was an
unstoppable force of nature that couldn't be bothered with the mundane lives of those around
him thanks to his superiority not just from birthright, but earned through pain and suffering.

The ride to the Wayne manor had been...unsettling to that way of thinking.

He'd seen the battle of New York against a mass of aliens after all, and because of that, little
doubts on his plan to take over the world for the League began to form as small cracks.

He still felt he was the strongest human out there...but the problem was, there weren't just
humans to deal with now.

Damian hadn't been allowed to test his skills against aliens that day, mother had forbade it
and ordered the driver to keep going to Gotham without even a pitiful glance back at the
destruction of Manhattan. (A part of him regretted not staying, now knowing Brooklyn had
been fighting for others that day).

It wasn't until he actually MET father and was greeted by the stuffy darkness of Gotham that
Damian began to realize the world was not as he'd once imagined it. It wasn't black and
white, or simple by any means.

He grew to resent being away from his mother and the League very quickly.

Damian was no future ruler or supreme being in this city, he was little more than the 'bastard'
son of Bruce Wayne by the time father bothered announcing his existence.

No one knew of his almost royal-like background, they just thought he was a kid born from
one of father's many meaningless night flings of the past. They saw him as a poor unwanted
boy left at the doors of the Wayne manor by a selfish mother who did not want him.

No one in the city or beyond knew of his true power, skill, or the great purpose that awaited
him.
It didn't help that father had been unbearable at the time, trying to keep Damian from being
who'd he'd grown up as. Father had ordered a young Damian to suppress his killing instincts,
to live in a home with no servants like he was accustomed to since birth.

He'd been forced to spend time with Dick, Tim, and after a few months...Jason.

They had not made Gotham feel more like home, even when father had decided Damian
should stay in the city against mother's original wishes. In fact, Dick was the only one that
tried to make an effort...him and Jon.

Jon had been quite bothersome too now that he thought bout it, but overtime proved to be a
bearable companion.

It wasn't until Damian left that gloomy city in pursuit of who he assumed to be the murderous
daughter of Tony Stark, that the youngest Wayne began to start digging roots without the ease
of knowing he could just leave everyone behind one day if the occasion called for it.

Damian had trained with his siblings for years, had been Batman's Robin for some time, and
even spent a few months with the Teen Titans by force, yet it wasn't until now that he'd felt
like he was part of a team...

The school halls were busy as everyone rushed from one classroom to the other. Everyone
was lost in mindless chatter, a sea of bodies that only seemed to slow and make way as
Damian and his group of allies (friends) made their way through unbothered.

Damian did not miss the way most stared in awe as they passed, how could he when its all
they ever did.

Some high-fived Harry Osborn as they went by, congratulating the boy in the letterman jacket
of their same species, football players. Ned was often by Harry's side in the halls along with
Parke- Peter. Those three often stuck together as they seemingly had since childhood,
exchanging small talk on whatever game or movie peaked their interest for the week (of
which he was always invited to join them at but he'd always refused).

Michelle Jones was a quiet girl, almost always with her head in a book. As of late, be it
thanks to the reveal of their identities or the emotional comfort she found in the large group
of friends, the curly haired girl seemed to be joining conversations more with witty remarks
or intriguing facts from memory.

She often stuck by Peter's side in the halls, looking at the face she now knew belonged to
Spider-man, as if he was far more interesting than the dusty book pages she favored.
Unfortunately for the girl, her attention was often snagged by Tanya, the cheerleader with a
bubbly attitude that always kept an arm around Michelle so they could gossip about 'girl
things'.

Tanya loved to know everything and anything going on in the halls of this school, and MJ
was an exceptional 'spy' for information since many students said things around the quiet girl
without paying her any mind. They were the perfect pair of friends in that sense.
As a result of said desire to gossip in the halls between classes, Yelena and Brooklyn often
had to keep close by to listen in.

Yelena seemed to still cling to rational instincts, keeping an eye out in the crowds rather than
the gossip, even when more eyes were on her now that she was ordained as an official Stark.
The only thing that seemed to distract the normally passive-looking blonde was the feeling of
Jon's hand on her own, or the times he snagged the books from her arms so he could carry
them in her stead.

Jon seemed to enjoy the liberties of being able to publicly date Yelena, even when not many
outside this school were aware yet. Despite his status of courtship, the attention of girls
passing by was usually on the kryptonian's face as he laughed at a joke from Harry and Ned,
or so much as breathed for that matter. Also clad in football attire, Jon's list of colleagues had
only grown along with his rising popularity due to success in the sport.

Still, Jon always kept to Damian's right, and to the Wayne's left in the middle of the group
was always Brooklyn. They couldn't share physical contact like Jon and Yelena did, nor could
they share fond glances like MJ and Peter (which was disgusting by the way).

It was still a relief to be able to walk by his beloved's side when amongst the sea of students,
there were dozens of unsuitable young men ready to court her at a moments notice after all.
None would approach Brooklyn when Damian was by her side though, something she had
expressed her thanks for many times, something he was glad to do.

Jon and Yelena were true to their vows and kept the secret of Damian's relationship even
from the rest of the team, which was a relief considering Jon was not known for being subtle
most days when it came to secrets. For instance, Jon took to wearing a Superman t-shirt to
school lately, as if to laugh silently at the clueless student body, especially when the school
had taken to calling him the 'Superman of the Football team'.

At least Yelena was a trained spy, from her, Damian had nothing to worry about when it came
to keeping the secret quiet...

It was then, as they made their way to the cluster of tables in the far side of the classroom,
that Damian was struck with the realization that this school...being here was not so bad. It
was not like the torture of his arrival at Gotham all those years ago. It was not the discomfort
and stupidity of attending Gotham High either.

He thought back to Brooklyn's apartment, one of his favorite retreat spots. Yet another place
he did not mind in the least.

Even the thought of the Wayne manor no longer seemed so distant. Sure, his siblings were
still annoying, and he'd rather die than admit he cared about any of them or that he truly did
consider them family...but that place was home too. Alfred, Titus, Goliath, Alfred the Cat,
Batcow, father...even his ever insufferable siblings...they were home.

Selina he wasn't too sure about yet.

The random thought seemed to truly disorient him for a second as everyone took their seats,
swinging backpacks and purses on the ground, sharing smiles and laughter. Even some
complaints from Ned and Tanya about the lesson plan on the board were a familiar comfort to
the Wayne.

Damian was quick to set down his own backpack, taking his seat by Brooklyn's side. She was
busy leaning towards the table beside theirs, where she and Yelena were having a quick
discussion on what foods to bring to a future family night, debating the merits of trying
complex flavors of popcorn or having Harley Stark pick something new the girls found
foreign.

The Wayne was almost shocked when he felt the need to smile at that, at the paper airplane
Harry and Jon kept throwing between one another, of Peter doing his best to untangle a curl
of MJ's hair from her chair. Even Ned actually crying from laughter as Tanya un-bashfully
danced as crazily as possible atop her table to the beat of Thompson's music as he walked
inside the room with a speaker on his shoulder (a habit the idiot had picked up in an attempt
to bring more attention to himself at school), the familiarity of all that made something in his
mind ease.

It didn't help that as more and more students came in, most of which Damian could not name
by face alone, they too joined in the circus show Tanya had decided to start today.

Normally he'd find all this unnecessary ruckus annoying, might've even bothered to glare at
them all until they stopped and let him live in peace...yet Damian did nothing but stare at
them all, relishing in the feeling of Brook's silent hand intertwining with his own under the
table.

He and Brooklyn couldn't really hold conversations in school, at least not ones without
insults. So they held hands, keeping their gazes away from one another to prevent suspicion
about their secret standing.

It was a shame he wouldn't be able to spend time alone with his beloved today after patrols,
seeing as her little brother was paying her a visit, and Damian had to play nanny for Selina
since father and his siblings had to pay a little visit to Arthur Curry for some Atlantean
support in the seas for some upcoming mission.

For once Damian did not mind being left out of a fight, not when he had his own team
planning a few of their own missions to not only find the Joker, but draw out the so called
Cobalus in charge of this mess. He didn't actually mind doing that, found himself thinking
that investigating and plotting with his team was actually not that bad.

If father pestered him again about leaving Midtown, if mother ever forced him to go back to
the League...Damian wasn't sure he could do either of those things anymore. It was a new
feeling he hadn't ever bother to explore, even when he'd become closer to Dick and Jon, or
when he got his pets.

Assassins were not supposed to hold attachments to people or places, and his job as Robin
often made Damian think any sort of emotional relationship like most in his family dared to
have would be an even more impossible attachment to acquire.
One couldn't have enough fingers to count the amount of times Lois Lane was taken hostage
due to her 'friendship' with Superman, or how many of father's ex-lovers had suffered similar
fates. Even the mighty amazon, Diana, had mentioned loosing men and women she loved due
to something as mundane as the passage of time when her own body did not deteriorate.

Being a hero or a vigilante made it hard to have attachments.

Yet here he was, attached.

It didn't feel wrong or uncomfortable...Damian did not feel like running away from it either.

Grandfather would be disappointed if he were alive, yet Damian found he did not care much
about the opinion of the dead either. He merely squeezed Brook's hand once, a silent way to
voice that all was well. Her hand squeezing back only served as a reminder of the connection
they had, of the attachment he'd willingly fight for.

At least all the chaos from the students stopped when the football coach/gym teacher walked
into the classroom, clearly not having the care or energy to give anyone detention, only
instructing Tanya come down from her desk unless she was willing to stand there all lesson.

The class began as it always did, with Mr. Wilson propping his legs on the low desk before
him, gym whistle resting comfortably on his lips as he said, "We'll be watching another video
today on how to properly care for an infant, something some of you need to pay attention to
if your project scores are anything to go by"

The class burst into chuckles, albeit most of them nervous ones.

Damian did no such thing, he only smirked confidently, knowing full well his and Brooklyn's
scores must be doing quite decently. They were not only exceptional students, heirs, and
heroes, but also...surprisingly good parents as he'd discovered during these past weeks.

Mr. Wilson's next actions only proved so.

Normally the man would lazily hit play on his computer so he could busy himself with
something to eat while they all took notes. Today though, the projector did not show a disc
home screen, but a list of paired names.

Everyone quieted at the sight, even Brooklyn and Damian straightened in their seats at the
focusing image.

"As you all know, the baby project will be ending soon. At this point I'm supposed to
congratulate you all on how well you've been doing and encourage you to keep doing your
best" the coach said, eyes holding nothing but boredom as he added, "I can't even be bothered
with lying to you all. So instead I'm going to show you all the scores you have as of now, let
you see who needs to step up their game to pass this class if you wish to graduate in the
future"

The image on the projector focused at last, the left side showing the pair and the infant names
while the right displayed a scoring system of overall points with a plus or minus sign.
Damian almost felt like smirking wider as he beheld a third of the class had negative numbers
at the bottom of the chart, could actually hear the disappointed sighs from those students as
they banged their heads on the tables or scolded their partners.

The feeling only increased as he dragged his eyes up the list, beholding his and Brooklyn's
name at the top of it, their score a good three hundred points ahead of second place, with a
plus sign beside it.

Everyone must've found that odd, because suddenly all eyes were on him and Brook, mouths
agape as he and his beloved kept their expressions calm, if not mildly annoyed at one another.
A necessary lie to feed the masses.

Considering Ned was in second place and he was getting by with cheating (even if his
annoying partner did not know of it), Damian was willing to see his victory as a landslide
win.

It made him a little smug, especially when he'd heard rumors all these weeks about everyone
looking forward to seeing a Wayne and Stark finally not be good at something. All of them
had been dying for the chance to see those last names next to a low score as if that would
improve their own lives somehow.

It appeared that foolish dream would not come true today.

The only ones seemingly not surprised were the members of Damian's team. They had
witnessed enough hours of their care of Rosa at the Briar Rose hideout to know both he and
Brook cared well for the robot.

It was Jon and Yelena that seemed the least amused by the list, likely because they knew just
how far his anger and hatred for the Stark had receded...far more than anyone else could
possibly dare to guess.

Well, it was safe to say Damian held his head a little higher once rumors of the current results
spread across the school, especially at lunch when everyone was trying to figure out just what
made the two greatest enemies in the world achieve such high grades.

Damian had noted Brooklyn's own amusement at the reactions, especially when her young
brother had stopped by their table (a new habit of his since Yelena joined their family) to ask
about the rumors.

"What?" Brook said to her brother as she held a carton of juice by her lips, "You've seen me
taking care of the baby, why are you so surprised by it?"

Yelena was smirking as well, finally looking comfortable enough to place a hand on her
brother's shoulder as she leaned closer to 'whisper', "Maybe Brook is just a natural"

The young boy with wrinkles on his designer t-shirt and wild dirty-blonde hair nodded in
understanding, saying, "I know that, Brook is good at everything. I just thought that..." that
innocent gaze turned fearful as the teen looked past Brooklyn to where Damian was silently
watching the conversation unfold.
That fear in Harley's eyes was, as always, directed at Damian.

Damian had once relished in the fact that he could strike fear in people's eyes with nothing
but a quick glare, only now a days he realized the fear the young Stark had for Damian could
be...problematic.

Unlike the other two Starks, this kid did not see Damian as an ally, but rather only a Wayne.
The youngest Stark knew who Damian's alter ego was AND his past with the League, knew
and feared those identities more than anything, rightfully so he supposed.

Damian would not care under normal circumstances, but he'd been a witness to how much
Brooklyn had grown to care for this kid, enough to grant him stay at her apartment today, to
text him or video call him for help with his homework.

Harley Stark was not involved in the Dynasty or the Avengers, yet he held a special place in
Brooklyn's heart as an innocent family member to protect. Perhaps Damian should try to
be...more civil, the way he'd done so with Brook's new grandparents in an effort to create a
better reputation amongst his beloved's family.

That is why Daman tried to dim his usual glare when the boy's eyes were on him, attempted
to at least seem a little less intimidating even when Harley was insinuating the shock of the
baby assignment results was due to the Wayne's involvement.

Before Brooklyn could say anything, Damian replied, "I take my education very seriously"

Harley went wide eyed at being addressed, and Damian did not miss the way the young boy
moved a few steps to stand behind his new sibling. Instead of replying, the boy nodded shyly,
then hugged his siblings goodbye, waved Peter's way, then rushed back to his table across the
cafeteria.

"The poor kid is just a little spooked" Jon reassured gently, "Brook said her dad talks about
the Waynes like horror stories after all, probably just to get him to keep distance from your
family"

Damian hated that Jon had seen the small effort he was trying to make, a feeling that only
vanished when Brooklyn nodded from her place by his side, sending him a quick nod of
reassurance and perhaps even thanks for the effort.

"He's seen videos on Youtube of Batman and Robin stopping crimes and villains, so I think
thats the first thing that comes to mind" Brook admitted as she scooped the remainder of her
mashed potatoes into Yelena's plate.

Harry chuckled at the words, pointing his fork at Damian as he added, "You'd think the poor
kid would see Robin as a hero here in Queens and feel a little more relaxed, but I guess
Damian is just that intimidating"

When the bell rang and everyone began gathering their things, Damian couldn't help but
think that perhaps he could stand being hated by the young Stark. Damian's own siblings
thought Brooklyn was the devil, perhaps their families were just not meant to get along after
all...

He still knew Jon would not drop the subject of his little 'act of kindness', especially since
they both had to go on patrols together thanks to Brooklyn's brother and some big SHIELD
exam Yelena had to attend.

The fact that he'd tried to make an effort was not lost to Damian himself.

Maybe he truly was a much different person than he'd been six years ago, one willing to have
friends and a family, a person capable of change...

Brooklyn POV-

Harley had arrived from his robotics competition down the street at 7, as previously
discussed. It had given Brook enough time to put away all hidden weapons around the house,
hide her polaroids of Damian from her room, and gather the clothes the Wayne left in the
spare room since Harley would be staying there tonight.

Her brother already knew of her assassin instincts of course, but she'd hidden most of her
weapons for his safety, had fussed about making something to eat when the boy had been let
up by the new receptionist downstairs (a new security measure the building had installed as
Brook's popularity grew).

It occurred to Brook that being in the apartment was 'new' to her brother. She was sure he'd
seen its inside before, but now as Harley walked along the space, he seemed in awe at the
little touches of life that were unique to Brooklyn. Things that had perhaps not been here the
last time he'd seen it.

Still, at least he didn't look spooked or uncomfortable...

This little arrangement was not entirely necessary, Happy could've come for Harley after his
competition despite the late hour, but Brook had the feeling her brother just wanted to spend
some additional time with her.

So for the past three days, she'd read through her books on how to be a good sibling, had
made sure responsibilities of protecting the city were in her friends' hands so she wouldn't
have to leave the teen alone.

It was with a silent sigh of relief that Brook realized her brother was not worried or weary,
he'd merely settled down on the couch with a smile, especially when he saw his favorite
snacks laid out on the coffee table.

Snickers. Red licorice. Orange soda. Roasted peanuts.

"Thanks sis" Harley said, smiling softly at the array of foods.

Brooklyn tried not to let it show how happy it made her being called his sister, tried to shrug
it off as she settled on the couch by his side. It was as they were catching up on gossip about
Steve's missed morning runs during the week, and Uncle Clint's quest to make a giant
sandwich before his next mission, that her brother interrupted the easy flow of the
conversation by asking.

"When I went to leave my stuff in the bedroom there was a locked drawer there. What's in
it?"

Brooklyn almost swallowed an unchewed peanut at the unexpected words, at his clever eyes.

She couldn't exactly say Damian Wayne's spare clothes and all her new guns and weapons
were in there. Harley would likely laugh if he heard a spare Robin suit laid there as well in
case of emergencies.

In their time getting to know one another, Brooklyn had noticed her brother was kind and
gentle, sweet and understanding...but he had a brilliance that got him a win at that robotics
competition today, that he was smart beyond his age, and was rather observant when he felt
like it.

When it came to the self defense lessons dad and Natasha were giving the poor kid, he
performed rather poorly, but he made up with it when he was in the lab with Tony tinkering
away.

With a small laugh, Brooklyn replied from her place laying lazily on the couch, "Just Stark
Industries documents. Classified ones locked away in case the apartment ever gets broken
into"

Harley nodded, eyes suddenly distant as he replied, "It must be scary having a lot of people
hunting you down. Aren't you more afraid people will try to steal you away again, instead of
the documents in that drawer?"

Like she'd said...observant.

In truth, she was ALWAYS weary the Red Room or any of the other assassin guilds would try
their hand at revenge. If the Joker ever figured out he extent of her involvement, she'd be
weary of his retaliation as well considering his fondness of killing children...

But Harley wasn't really asking if she was afraid, she knew him well enough by now to know
he was concerned for her safety.

"The security in this place is getting better, and I don't just have my old skills and weapons to
protect me, I'm trying to learn how to master this, at least until dad can get it out of me" she
said, holding out a hand where small red flames came to life at her fingertips.

Harley's blue eyes shone with the light of the fire, and though he kept his distance on the
couch, he did not seem too bothered by the display.

"Sometimes I forget you can do that, even when I see Firestar on the news" he said in a
whisper, "Has dad figured out what your power is?"

Brooklyn sighed, looking towards a nearby window as she recalled all dad had been able to
figure out on weekends with both of them stuck in the lab, with wires and machines latched
onto her that were supposed to help answer that very question.

"The Tesseract that gave me these abilities is a foreign object from space, but SHIELD had it
for some time thanks to our grandfather finding it in the ocean years ago. Since SHIELD was
infiltrated by HYDRA, they gave the cube to the Red Room for experimentation whenever
they could get away with it" Brook explained, her bother's eyes already wide with the desire
to learn more, "From what dad found in grandfather's notes on Protect Pegasus and SHIELD
research, the tesseract is supposed to be a key to limitless, renewable, clean energy"

"Like the weapons dad brings home? He said they were powered by alien tech" Harley asked,
to which Brooklyn had guessed to be true as well. If not powered by the same stuff that made
the cube, then those weapons had to be of something similar, like Loki's scepter that gave
Wanda and Vision their skills.

That cube and scepter seemed to be similar in gamma radiation readings. Radiation that even
dad thought was dangerous, levels that should've gotten Brooklyn killed.

Not that she liked to think about that very much.

"The cube is in Asgard, and there is no way to contact Thor, so all we have are theories at this
point. Dad thinks the Tesseract draws cosmic energy from space, can be used to power
objects and artifacts of incredible scale. Our grandfather thought it could power cities, and
SHIELD theorized it could power weapons of great power. Now that at least some of that
energy is in me, it seems to be attaching to me, my cells, my blood, everything. Dad isn't
giving up in finding a cure, but I think it won't be easy to remove this thing from me" Brook
admitted, not pointing out that Tony's tests and weekly scans were more towards making sure
said radiation was not killing her or hurting her body in any way rather than to take it out.

Director Fury had seemed indifferent to the knowledge, being the one to tell Brook more than
once that her only choice was to figure out how to manipulate the cosmic energy itself rather
than waste time removing it.

The good news was that at least Howard Stark, her grandfather, had been a genius son of a
bitch. He'd studied the cube for some time, and in some journals he left for her otets, the man
described some of his findings in great detail.

Upon her request, dad had given Brooklyn the notes with little fuss, which she'd taken to
studying thoroughly whenever she had free time, all in hopes of finding some miracle.

Turning on a glass-looking tablet, the teen handed over the documents to her younger brother,
watching as the curiosity in his eyes grew at the sight. Harley may be young, not much more
than her of course, but he was already incredibly bright. Brook wouldn't be surprised if the
kid could find something she'd missed.

The notes themselves were not complete, cut short thanks to Howard's unexpected death. But
that didn't make them any less useful.

"Grandfather discovered a way to make an element with a similar type of energy to the
Tesseract, but because of technological limitations, he was not able to make his theory a
reality. Dad managed to make the element a few years ago, a replacement for the core he used
to have since the palladium in it was poisoning him" Brook added, trying to push back the
worry she'd had when she learned that last bit of information.

In an effort to ease her worry when he'd told the story, dad mentioned he'd later tried to get
said element patented as "Badassium", but ran into many legal issues with that. He still
refereed to that as 'the greatest' failure of his life.

Harley's eyes were on the diagrams of the element before him, licorice stick in his mouth
long forgotten as he replied, "So you study the element to better understand the Tesseract we
no longer have?"

Brooklyn smiled proudly as she nodded in confirmation.

"This energy excites plasma with an inverse population of energy levels" Harley mused,
scrolling through the documents as he added, "So that would mean that theoretically
speaking, your body is capable of passively absorbing most forms of energy and transforming
it into cosmic energy"

Or so Fury kept nagging her about during SHIELD training...

"Technically yes, but I've tried that and nothing works" Brook replied, not adding the fact that
she didn't bother experimenting much with her unwanted abilities to begin with, even when
Xavier had been one of the heavy advocates for that approach to her...abilities.

She stared down at her hands, the ones that produced the fire the world assumed made her a
mutant. She supposed that was the only positive thing about using her abilities, especially
considering 'mutant hate' had gone down quite a bit in New York and other states thanks to
Firestar's hero status.

"I should be able to absorb the energy and use it, but the most I can do with it now is have it
manifest as exothermic manipulation. I basically jus accumulate the energy in my hands to
create fire" Brooklyn said, frowning down at the calloused hands she possessed, and added
with a little more relief "Luckily, the Tesseract requires a heat of at least 120,000,000 Kelvin
to break through its Coulomb barrier and activate its full power. So I should be safe from
being able to do any of that fancy stuff we all theorize about"

It was a small relief, something she repeated to herself every time she brought out the fire
during patrols in the city. As long as she didn't let her fire get too hot, there should be no
surprises.

Harley seemed saddened by that fact, but did not push like Xavier did to get her to test said
limits. He simply set down the tablet and listened to Brook as she explained plans she had of
making something to limit, if not stop, her powers should they ever get out of control.

Her brother insisted time and time again that she wasn't dangerous, but could not deny her
logic that they had to be prepared for anything. In fact, Uncle Banner had once helped dad
build something called "The Hulk Buster" to stop his green alter-ego in case of emergencies.
Brooklyn couldn't help but see the genius in doing something similar for herself, like a fail-
safe of sorts.

It turned out, trading ideas with Harley was very helpful, if not relaxing.

They spoke of plans for a Photon Inhibitor, a device that could one day keep said alien power
in check if need be by limiting the amount of energy she could emit as a possible solution.

They both knew dad would outright refuse to build it since it could b used as a weapon
against Brook in the wrong hands, but she suspected Fury or SHIELD had probably already
begun building some contingency plan not just for Brooklyn's worst case scenario, but
perhaps for Wanda, Vision, and all of the Avengers.

As if drawn in by the science talk, dad had requested a video call not long into their talk.

He'd seemed tired from his meetings with the government regarding the alien weapons, but
ultimately happy to see the two of them spending time together in peace. He too had been in
the scientific spirit, especially since Wakanda had delivered some special supplies for dad in
preparation to the ever nearing Stark Expo, which no one was more excited for than Harley
himself.

Yelena had once mentioned that when dad was not out on a mission, he was busy in his lab
doing who knew what. But on that afternoon, dad excitedly gathered all the Avengers, mom,
and Yelena. Brook and Harley watched on the TV screen as dad attached an art reactor
looking device to his shirt, something that made mom slightly angry.

"What was the point of getting rid of the reactor if you're gonna use a new one!" she said
exasperatedly.

Dad had only raised a hand in defense, saying to those gathered, and the camera, "This
doesn't even attach to my body, it's just part of the demonstration for my newest suit. I'd bring
a runway for it but that seems like too much trouble. Besides, my Mark 50 suit is awesome
enough without all the glam" he joked.

With a double tap to the glowing reactor, Brooklyn was left wide eyed as singular nanobots
moved around his body to form a suit much like his classic Iron Man design. It was made of
vibranium, strong enough to withstand almost everything...

No one on call could deny how good it was dad had a little extra safety, even if mom did
seem a little annoyed that yet another suit had been built.

Shuri and dad had really outdone themselves, and by the time bedtime rolled around, the
amazing details of the suit were all Harley could talk about, even when most of the Avengers
had just dismissed it as another suit of armor.

Dad was on call with Harley discussing just that as Brook got the last aspects of the guest
room ready, and while the two spoke of intricacies of technology, she couldn't help but say, "I
just know that when Peter sees the new suit, he'll geek out like you two are"
Dad went silent, then laughed.

"So the first thing on your mind after seeing my genius is underoos? I wonder why that is..."
came dad's voice from the phone in Harley's hand, almost like he was amused by said
response.

So what if she had mentioned Peter, what was the big deal? And what was with that tone?

"He'll like it a lot" Brook replied while she arranged spare pillows on the floor, "you know
Peter has been dying to see nanotech come to life, won't shut up about it actually since I
announced its part of the Stark Expo"

Dad chuckled, then added, "Well, I'm sure you two can talk about it more when you go to that
special opera night together in a few days"

Oh right, that...

Brooklyn had never seen an opera in her life, and neither had Peter. The two of them had only
discussed said visit a few times, mostly worrying just how elegantly they had to dress for
such an event.

She also worried/dreaded any straggling media would get the wrong idea if they were
spotted.

The real question was, why was dad so much more excited for that day than she was? Did he
worry Brook wasn't going out as much as she should? That she'd yet to experience so much
of the world thanks to her childhood?

Dad had not even bothered to clarify, he just wished them goodnight and hung up still
laughing at whatever he found so amusing.

A few minutes later when Harley was tucked into bed (despite his complaints of being a
'grown man'), Brooklyn had only lingered for a bit to make sure he was comfortable, at which
point Harley admitted he too was excited for Brooklyn's day with Peter.

"You two are always throwing yourselves into danger with all that hero stuff" he said, dirty-
blonde hair spreading out on the pillow as he got situated, then added a little quieter, "I know
you guys are crazy strong, and Peter has to be one of the nicest and smartest guys out there,
but I'm glad you guys can just do something that doesn't involve flirting with death for once"

Flirting with death? If anything, death was quite the flirt...

His words made her pause though. Perhaps that was Harley's way to voice his concern for the
dangers they faced, just the way the boy seemed to worry for all the Avengers, especially dad
when he was gone for a few days.

It sometimes escaped Brook that her younger brother was not used to battle or gore, that he
had not grown up the way she and Yelena had.
But...he'd lost much, and was afraid of loosing what he now had. But like mom, Harley knew
the importance of the work they did, likely why he never voiced any of these concerns
outright.

It warmed Brook's heart that he worried for her well being, that despite her brother's own
challenges and duties in life, he still found time to keep her in his thoughts. Out of all three
Stark siblings (four if you counted Vision like most of the Avengers joked about), Harley was
by far the most in touch with his emotions, the one that was left to worry for everyone's
safety.

Maybe that was a fight all on its own, seeing people you cared about fighting for their lives
and those of others, all while not being able to join in.

But Harley was a smart kid, and Brook wouldn't be surprised if with that benevolence and
genius, the kid chose to put his skills to protect the world without having to lift a fist.

In an effort to ease his worries, Brooklyn leaned over to embrace her brother, an act she only
got to do so few times.

He was never one to push for hugs, but always reciprocated them quickly with gentle arms,
just like he did now. Harley's arms were gentle against her shoulders, voice sleepy as he
whispered, "Good night, sister" as well as an almost inaudible promise to help her with the
alien power in her blood some day.

She's smiled at the title, making sure the warm covers kept his body warm before exiting the
room with a gentle close of the door. Brook had made sure all security was at its best that
night, that there would be nothing to harm her little brother as they drifted to dream land.

After her own nightly routine of brushing her teeth, finishing up a few bits of homework, and
polishing a pair of daggers carved by her Dami, the girl still couldn't get that silent promise
out of her mind.

His offer to help had been sweet, and it was that innocence that made Brooklyn glad Harley
had not fallen victim to any assassin organization as a child.

So as she'd done many times by now, Brook silently promised to herself that no harm would
come to that boy, not now or ever.
 Yelena's Day

Brooklyn POV-

Brooklyn had been woken up on that weekend morning by the most unexpected of surprises.

Her room at the compound did not have GIL to alert her of someone coming inside, which is
how Brook was woken up not by an alarm, but Yelena's body crashing atop her own.

Though the compound was arguably the safest place in the western hemisphere, the auburn
haired girl had still gone right into defensive mode, almost pulling out the vibranium dagger
underneath her pillow until she noticed the familiar blonde hair, the golden earnings, and the
patterned pjs from Yelena's favorite movie as of recently, patterns with Baymax from Big
Hero Six.

Brooklyn barely had time to catch her breath as Yelena hurled a set of papers at her.

Brook had at least relaxed enough knowing Yelena wasn't here to announce an incoming
battle or mission, her smile was too wide and bright for that.

"Mladshaya sestra ! Look! Fury dropped them off this morning, you have to see!" Yelena
yelled, eyes bright with a kind of joy Brook had only seen from her sister when it involved
their family, ice cream, or Jon Kent (as much as she tried to hide that sometimes).

It took a few seconds of struggling to get her arms out of the covers, but Brook soon took the
papers into her own hands, asking FRIDAY to open up the curtains ( that revealed little to no
daylight) before whispering to Yelena, "You're full of shit with that 'little sister' thing. And its
five in the morning, does Fury even sleep...fucking pirate"

Yelena ignored the reprimands, choosing instead to settle beside Brooklyn under the covers
the way they normally sat like for movie night. Seeing her sister's eagerness, Brook pushed
back her exhaustion and smoothed out the papers in hand, noticing it was a letter...an official
letter from SHIELD.

It all came crashing back to her then, how Yelena had her big SHIELD test a few days ago,
one designed much like Brooklyn's own agent test, only she suspected Yelena's had been a
little harder in terms of mental evaluations all due to a past most of SHIELD and the
Avengers already forgot about.

It took very few sentences to realize what had Yelena so over the moon, and in seconds
Brooklyn had a wide smile on her face despite the ungodly hour.

The two sisters had not hugged many times before or after their new last names were issued,
but Brook did not hesitate once to scramble to hug the blonde in that moment, bringing her
into a tight embrace that had them both struggling for air.
The sharing of one another's secrets had actually managed to bring both girls closer to one
another, and now that they knew both were trying their hand at emotions, neither was afraid
to hug the other anymore.

Brook joined Yelena with her excited little laughs, couldn't really find the words to explain
just how happy she was for her. This was a huge step for Yelena, not just one in the right
direction in terms of her future, but her personal mission of redemption.

Yelena had passed the SHIELD test and was now an official agent just like Brook was!

The two had pushed past Ivan's shadow to take a step in the right direction, only this meant
so much more for Yelena, which is why Brook and the other Avengers had stayed up late last
night hoping all would go well as the evaluation committee made their decisions.

Fury had forbade them from watching the assessment (because apparently, one could do that),
saying he didn't want anyone from the council or the committee to think there was any foul
play thanks to Yelena's new last name. No one knew how the assessment had gone, and
Yelena was forbidden to speak of it until now.

With this seemingly simple announcement, Yelena was not only a SHIELD agent of notable
rank, but her new position also served greater purposes. Like Brooklyn and Natasha, being a
SHIELD agent was like a step towards a clean slate, their ledgers dripping red with blood of
crimes past were now 'wiped clean'.

Yelena had just earned freedom in a sense.

Since she was no longer a Red Room agent, or at least her new agent status obscured that fact
of the past, Yelena would not have as many restrictions when it came to her life. Now she
would be able to roam the country as she pleased, be able to stay in Queens late without
permission (at least SHIELD's permission). AND Yelena would get the same paychecks
Brook got every month.

She'd have more freedom to go on missions that the Avengers approved of too, and no one
would see her position as hero of Queens as a temporary experiment.

She'd be able to apply to any job she wished without her past showing up, be able to carry
more weapons than the vibranium bo staff that had been gifted to her, that SHIELD had never
dared take away since it was a gift from a princess.

Yelena had just earned a ticket to a bright future, and everyone would be so excited when
they found out, dad would likely throw a party too...

Brooklyn smiled against her sister's shoulder, whispering, "Congratulations, bol'shaya sistra"

Yelena laughed at Brooklyn's admittance that she was the big sister, if only just this once.

Brook then noticed that along with the letter detailing Yelena's new perks, there was a small
check, the first of many. Yelena smiled at it, breaking away from the hug to examine the
simple printed letters and numbers.
"Your first pay check," Brooklyn said with a smile, "What do you plan to buy with it, Miss
Yelena Fyodorovna Stark?" she added, reading the name on the check with pride.

Yelena beamed at the name too, leaning back on the fluffy pillows, blonde hair scattering like
a halo as she replied with a soft sigh, "I'm not sure, I've never had money of my own. A part
of me wants to save it so I can buy a motorcycle or an apartment. But I also really want to
spend it, especially with you. Maybe we can go out for drinks?"

Brook laughed, loud and boisterous enough that she hoped her room neighbors could not
hear.

"We're not of age Lena, its illegal" Brooklyn replied, amused that the nickname from Jon
really stuck to the group now that they all hung out, even to her. Yelena was now used to the
affectionate nickname and did not bat an eyelash about it, but rather at the answer Brook
gave.

"But we've been drinking since we were young" Yelena pouted

Brooklyn laid back down on her pillow, turning to face her sister as she added, "People don't
know that. If we go to a bar we'll get in trouble, and seeing as we now have the honorary
Stark name, we can't be causing too much trouble with the media"

Yelena huffed annoyedly, but her eyes brightened as she said, "Then let me treat you to one
of those sandwiches you and Peter are always going on about!"

Brooklyn knew Happy would kill them for making him drive them to Queens, but she'd
agreed with little resistance after that.

The two teens had told the rest of the Avengers the great news at the breakfast table a few
hours later, and after mom and dad had hugged Yelena tight, Harley offered up his bacon as a
congratulatory prize, and the rest of the Avengers (mostly Steve and Nat) had expressed their
pride with kind words, the two girls had set out to Queens after promising to be back for a
very special dinner.

Never mind that the Avengers were all exhausted thanks to a surge of missions out in the
pacific ocean, stopping the Joker's people from getting more weapons into the country. But
they were all set on celebrating, especially since Yelena had not objected to the idea.

Happy had indeed bit their heads off for making him drive so early, but upon hearing the
news of Yelena's success, his gaze had softened every so slightly, and for the rest of the ride
he hadn't bothered to complain once.

During the ride to Queens, Yelena had texted everyone in the team the great news, and the
supportive texts had appeared almost instantly, with Ned and Harry going a little heavy on
the excited gifs. Jon had been the one with the long text expressing how happy he was for
Yelena, and how much he believed in her.

Brook had decided not to tease her sestra about the overly kind words of her significant other,
especially when Happy was in the car and the Avengers were yet to be notified of the
relationship thanks to whatever hesitation Yelena still clung to.

The two had been dropped off at a bank, where a very starstruck bank lady had asked to take
a photo with the 'Stark Sisters' before depositing the check that was labeled as a simple
paycheck from Stark Industries as cover.

Yelena had beamed when Brook stopped by her apartment to get Yelena a purse and wallet,
some Brooklyn had bought with her own SHIELD money months ago. It seemed like a
simple gift, but she knew that as ex-assassins...gifts were even more precious in their
meaning.

Her sister had swung that beige purse on her shoulder proudly, smiling at the wallet with
money fo her own as they made the quick walk to Delmar's that morning.

Brook had taken the time to introduce Yelena to Mr. Delmar, whom she only saw a few times
a week when Peter asked Damian to drive by the store for some breakfast on their way to
school. Damian would never admit it to Peter, but she could see how much he too enjoyed
Delmar's sandwiches.

The two girls had ordered ice cream along with their meals, and Yelena had proudly payed
for both of them before they settled down in one of the tables outside the establishment.

Queens was barely starting to buzz with life as the sun made its way lazily up in the sky.

Taxies passed by at an unhurried pace, joggers began their mornings with their pets, and
others milled about with friends and family now that the weekday had finally ended.

Brook and Yelena kept their sunglasses on to prevent prying eyes at the sight of two
celebrities, they'd even gone as far as to put on some caps Peter had left at her apartment
when he'd tried to explain the importance of TV show merchandize.

No one suspected Brooklyn was hidden behind the blue shades and Central Perk cap, or that
the blonde with a cookie monster cap was the new addition to the Stark family. The two girls
were able to lounge in peace, watching the city in peace.

Yelena's mood had been bright, made even more so when she smiled around her soda bottle
as a digital add of Brooklyn modeling for a Dior 'women at work' line came up close by.
Brook had almost forgotten she'd done it until she recognized her face up on that billboard.

She let Yelena laugh at it, call her New York's printsessa knowing that soon her sister would
carry the same public responsibilities of being a celebrity.

As soft music played outside the store, the conversation between the two sisters shifted away
from what being a SHIELD agent was like, to more personal matters like the sweet text Jon
had sent.

Now with Happy gone, Brook could tease all she wanted.

"He is a very emotional being" Yelena said with a blush, "I find it helpful...and endearing at
times because he doesn't HAVE to be nice to me, but he always puts in the effort. Jon is a
very easy person to like, even more so to appreciate beyond friendship"

Brook smirked, lifting up her soda bottle as she said, "I told you Jon would be an
understanding person. Perhaps I needed someone in my life that was like me after being
surrounded by people who did not understand my past...but you were in the Red Room all
your life...I think you needed to be around someone completely different from who you
were...if only Ivan could see us now"

Yelena hummed in agreement, staring up at the cloudy skies.

"It wasn't until you gave me the chance to have this life, well, until I realized how good
having it was, that I realized my hatred towards you when we were younger was misplaced"
Yelena said, voice tense as if she'd been thinking about this before but had never voiced it.

Brooklyn leaned closer across the table, unsure what Yelena meant until her sestra clarified,
"Everyone always hated you because you were Ivan's favorite, but now that I think about it,
having his undivided attention was probably worse than anything I or the others ever
suffered. I know we don't talk about it much...but I remember the days you came back to bed
late with bruises all over your face, with dislocated bones or too much blood on your body
that was either yours or someone else's who did not return to their bed that night"

Brook stilled at the words.

It wasn't often she remembered Yelena's bed had been right beside her own all those years of
their youth. Yelena had seen it all, yet had only tried to kill Brook a handful of times, which
by Red Room standards was a mercy.

Yelena's green eyes went somewhere far away, those smiles and laugher from earlier pushed
aside as she added, "I watched every time you were punished, I saw what that beast of a
mother you had did to your back when she whipped you or shot you just to prove she could. I
watched as Ivan broke your bones for days..when...when they took you away for...god I didn't
even know Ivan was experimenting on you. Now that I think about it, winter was cold, but
not nearly as much when I slept. I think your fire kept you warm, but I was close enough that
it kept me alive too..."

Brooklyn wasn't sure if Yelena just needed to let out some memories, if the concept of
freedom and this new beginning for her brought back times when life wasn't so great. So she
let her continue, glad they were the only ones outside on the handful of tables by the store so
they could have that bit of needed privacy.

Brook's hands were shaking at the old memories, begging her mind not to go back to that
place, but she would endure it if her sister needed to let it out...

Yelena's frown deepened then.

"I never thanked you for saving my life that day when we were kids in the Red Room. I
failed, and you were supposed to kill me for it, but even when every instructor and Ivan
himself trained and fashioned into something just like them, you somehow attained mercy.
When I saw those scars on your back back in Wakanda...the really bad ones, it reminded me
of the day that I stood by and watch them do that to you, with glee, just happy you were
being punished for a failure in front of Ivan" Yelena said, voice hoarse as she looked Brook
in the eye at last, adding, "Then you saved me again, made this life I treasure above all else
possible. You let me into your family, your team, introduced me to Jon...I have never thanked
you for any of that"

Brooklyn did her best to ignore the tingling on her back at the reminder of the scars there,
pushing back the memories of the past. But what she had done for Yelena, that hadn't been
done to receive a thank you down the line. Brook had done it because it was right.

She was just glad Yelena was doing well, genuinely happy for all the good of the past
months, almost wishing such attempts were successful with the other captured widows. None
of them had even shown a drop of progress though, not the way Yelena had. Not even Natalia
Romanova had been able to yield results there, or Yelena's weekend visits for that matter.
Whatever Ivan had told them seemed to be working in keeping them loyal.

On the weekends Brook tried to talk sense to them, she was not successful in the least either.
The widows were too faithful to Ivan, refusing to say anything other that the same phrase
every time she showed.

You filthy traitor.

Perhaps Yelena didn't think about it, but she must've hid some form of mercy and kindness to
have even gotten this far, to have responded to the opportunity Brooklyn presented her with
unlike those other widows.

Brooklyn was still shocked by the warm feeling that gratitude from her sister felt like,
couldn't find the words to voice her own thanks for being someone Brook could rely on.

So instead, the younger Stark said, "We both faced awful things in there, but neither one of us
are to blame for it, only Ivan is. I for one have never blamed you for all that happened...in
fact, I find myself thinking about it less and less as the days go by"

Yelena released a relaxed breath at last.

"So what?" then added with a hint of a smile, "We try and move past it at last? I don't think
buying you a sandwich covers the debt of all I did to you"

Brooklyn knew Yelena would not let this go, knew well what that guilt from the Red Room
days felt like. So she replied with a smile, "As payment, could you just promise me not to tell
dad about me and Damian?"

Yelena's smile returned, and the blonde laughed herself hoarse as she said, "Consider it a life
for a life, because we both know that if Tony ever found out, he WOULD kill you"

The two raised their soda cans in the air, toasting to this new life as their own to build.

With a bit of a mischievous smile, Yelena said after a bite of her sandwich, "You know, for an
al Ghul...Damian isn't half bad. He still seems like he hates everything...well everything but
you"

Brook rolled her eyes, knowing the two were spending far too much time around Tanya if
they were finally willing to interact in 'girl talk' for the first time.

But...it felt nice talking to Yelena, especially since she had some questions of her own.

"Damian has spent long guarding his heart like I have, but we bring down our walls around
one another. I know being with him is risky in more ways than one, but he's worth every
minute of it" Brook said honestly, watching Yelena's smile widen.

If only to wipe that smugness off her face (especially when Yelena dared to call Brook a
poet), she added, "What about you and Kent? I saw you ignore his advances for months, then
suddenly you decide to give him a shot. What changed?"

Yelena sighed, moving around the stray tomatoes and lettuce from her plate absentmindedly
as she muttered, "He never ran away from what I used to be, even when I wanted to. I guess
he's one of the first people my instincts had told me I can trust, and he proved it"

Brook nodded in understanding, because she too knew how much assassins relied on instinct,
how difficult it was to let people in. Damian had been easy to trust, even more so after she
put the whole being a Wayne thing aside.

She trusted Jon with keeping her new sister happy of course, he was a great guy. And with
Yelena being more open to her emotions, maybe there really was nothing to worry about.

Still, Brooklyn would wait excitedly for the day dad found out one of his daughters was
dating a kryptonian. Now that would be fun indeed. In fact, Brook wondered if Jon could
withstand a blow from dad's new vibranium suit...

The two girls spend the better part of that morning and afternoon talking about their new
relationships, even going as far as admitting they were both afraid of not just loosing Damian
and Jon, but their family and friends as well.

It was an odd feeling for an assassin to have, worrying about someone other than yourself,
but Brooklyn had been getting practice in for that for quite some time. The things they had
planned to stop the Joker and his allies would be risky and dangerous, but both girls seemed
to understand that as much as they wanted to protect those they cared for, they were stronger
with everyone by their sides.

It was in the midst of that serious conversation that a song came on the outer speakers, a song
Brook and Yelena had to be fools to not know by now considering mom listened to it all the
time when she came back to the compound after work on weekends.

Brooklyn knew Yelena was not yet accustomed to much, but smiled as she saw the blonde
mouthing the lyrics to American Pie as if she'd known the song all her life. When Brook
joined along, both teens smiled at one another, and spent the last of their time at Delmars
signing softly to the lyrics that not only served to remind them of their mom, but of home as a
whole.
Happy had come by shortly after, demanding they should make it back to the compound by
lunch time. Neither girl objected, not now that Yelena had felt what it was like to spend her
own money, and that darkness of the past was confronted at last.

The two managed to convince Happy to relinquish the radio, switched his old time tunes for
something merry and joyous as they were driven back to their loved ones.

It was during that ride that Brook got an odd text from Damian.

Getting texts from him was not the odd part, especially when it was a reply to an earlier
conversation about Goliath. What was odd was that Damian sent a heart emoji along with
that text.

That was weird...he NEVER used emojis, even when Brook had adapted some into their
conversations on her part.

That oddity slipped her mind completely when she and Yelena retuned home, only to find dad
standing excitedly by the entrance, looking giddy. He guided them not inside to the Avenger's
floor, but to the underground parking hall mostly housing dad's various sports cars, Nat's and
Steve's motorcycles, Clint's pickup truck, and some reinforced steel vans with enough guns
and supplies for a quick getaway.

Only now one of the extra parking spaces had a CMM motorcycle, like the one Yelena often
ranted about wanting after Grandpa Steve told her a little of what the 21st century had to
offer. There it was, standing beside dad who said, "What do you say, Goldie Locks? Like
your new ride?"

Yelena was speechless as she rushed over to stroke the motorcycle, as if she didn't quite
believe it was there.

Brook moved to stand beside dad then, whispering to him, "I'm surprised you managed to
restrain yourself this time dad. Last time Harley asked you for a few books, you bought him
the entire book store"

Dad looked down at her, some of the bandaged scars on his face and neck visible in the bright
light of the large parking space. He looked tired after days of missions, but he'd not
complained once about it, had still thought to get Yelena a treasured gift, likely planned a
whole gourmet meal upstairs along side it.

Yelena had said earlier that Brook had been the one who saved her, but Brooklyn knew that
perhaps this family had saved them both, knew that deep within her heart.

Dad rolled his eyes then, saying, "How was I supposed to know thats what he wanted? But
yes, I only made sure Capsicle told me which specific motorcycle Lena wanted, the company
is untouched"

The fact that dad has swallowed his pride with Steve spoke volumes, and Brook might've
hugged her dad for the effort had Yelena not beat her to it.
Dad was still for a few seconds, shocked at the embrace he was in until he slowly embraced
Lena back.

Brook stood there, smiling and wishing she'd packed her camera to capture the moment.

"I wanted to buy it myself" Yelena whispered, but it was not a complaint and her voice was
not laced with anger as she said it.

Dad smirked then, patting Yelena's head as he said, "Don't worry about that, you'll still pay
for gas and go get your permit, so that motorcycle will be yours by more than just name. You
earned it. But if it ever breaks or needs tinkering, I'll take a look at it for a discounted fee,
consider it a family treat"

Both Brook and Yelena laughed, and the blonde had not shut up about her new ride as they
went to have a meal with their family, which was a true celebration even Fury had shown up
for.

Seeing that serious man with a bit of pride in his eyes was by far one of the scariest things
Brooklyn had ever seen...

A huge meal was eaten, Yelena's favorite ice cream was levitated to the table (courtesy of
Wanda), and playing Monopoly had been un-banned for one day only as a celebration game
they could all play together.

By the end of it, Brook realized exactly why it had been banned in the first place. Even in bed
hours later, the girl still chuckled at the memories of dad trying to arm wrestle Steve (the
fucking super soldier) for money, of Wanda ending up in prison almost comically every few
turns.

She recalled Haley's kindness when he snuck money to mom when she ran short, of Brook's
nearly sadistic glee when someone had to pay up for ending up in one of her properties,
which got her enough enemies that she ended up broke shortly after, laying on the couch
defeatedly.

Yelena had lasted some time, but since she was unfamiliar with the rules like Brooklyn was,
she too joined her for a pouting session on the couch.

Uncle Rhodey had acted as the law of sorts, trying his best to make sure no one cheated, but
even he was no match for Wanda's magic, Scott's surprising knowledge of magic tricks of
deception, and Nat's terrifying determination.

After Wanda had levitated half the players in the air in frustration of their cheating, and even
Vision's technological brain had failed to produce him a victory despite his calculations, only
Nat and Pepper remained, one flaked by Tony and the other Steve.

When mom had won (the person everyone least expected to win), Nat had tacked a laughing
Uncle Clint in seconds. Soon that little brawl had turned into a popcorn war.
Lest to say, Pepper banned Monopoly once again, more than one person had gone to bed
shedding a few tears, and Brooklyn's washed hair still smelled like butter.

..thats when she recalled the odd text from Damian.

She'd stared at her phone screen to make sure that hadn't been an illusion, and when the red
heart stared back at her, Brook couldn't help but laugh nervously, wondering what the hell
had happened for Damian to make such a mistake while typing....

Damian Wayne POV-

Damian didn't often have to go all the way to the Titans Tower in San Fransisco, likely
wouldn't step foot in there if it weren't for Dick.

Richard had gotten it into his head that he'd been spending too much time far from Damian
lately, so he'd dragged the teen out of bed early and shoved them into the private jet where
Starfire awaited her husband's help to make some security changes to the Titan's tower.

That left Damian to do nothing for quite some time. He wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a
curse that Jon had come along, even less so after Jon insisted they go spend some time in the
lounge where Raven and 'Beast Boy' were currently doing their homework.

There was a time when Damian was envious of the fact the two of them had online courses,
but that had all changed since his days at Midtown began of course. Damian still did his best
to ignore the two Titans since his arrival, keeping to the other side of the small room so that
he and Jon could lounge upon the couches undisturbed.

That had been a wise call considering his friend was rather..chatty this morning, especially
after Yelena mentioned she'd passed her SHIELD evaluation in the group chat.

Jon's whispers between the two of them were about pride for Yelena, of his wishes this
brought only more good things to her life.

Damian would've called him a fool months ago, would've surely made sure to tell Jon how
idiotic he was being for liking someone. Now, the teen could do nothing but listen, knowing
full well what it felt like to fell an extension of feelings from another person.

What he had not expected out of today was the fact that Raven and the annoying green
gremlin were in the midst of discussing relationship matters of their own.

Had Tanya Bennett not spent much of her time squealing over getting messages from Raven,
Damian would've deemed the fact that those two were in a relationship as something rather
unimportant.

On the other side of the room, Raven's Biology book had been set to the side, her focus on
the phone in her hands as the changeling leaned over her shoulder with a wide smirk.

"Stop looking, haven't you heard of privacy?" Raven said, voice deep an untroubled, even
when Logan (yes, he still referred to Beast Boy by his last name), snapped back playfully,
"That's rich coming from the girl that can intrude into people's emotions. Besides, we dated
once upon a time, you shouldn't be ashamed to talk about your new girlfriend with me. We're
best friends and I can be your wingman!"

Damian tried not to go wide eyed at the information, even when Jon seemed unamused by it.
He must not have cared enough to catalog that information when those two were dating.

Surprisingly enough, there was no animosity or tension left between the two titans, Raven
merely relented with a tired sigh as she tilted the phone screen Beast Boy's way.

Damian and Jon did their best at seeming busy with Wayne company profit reports and
whatever comic novel Jon was reading as Logan frowned in disapproval at whatever was on
the screen.

"Rae! What are you doing!? You should add more emotion to your texts, add a few heart
emojis or something. Girls love that stuff"

Raven scoffed, "Tanya has never complained about it"

The phone was shoved close to her face as Beast Boy added, "Obviously, but look at how
many emojis she sends you. Don't you think adding a heart or two might make Tanya see
how much you care for her? Give it a try! It's like sending affecting through a phone without
the need for words! Go on!"

Damian was suddenly very glad the only people who knew of his secret relationship were
Yelena and Jon. If Logan tried to pressure Damian into doing any of that nonsense, then the
Teen Titans would end up being one teammate short in very little time.

Unfortunately, luck was not on Damian's side that day, not as an invisible lightbulb turned on
inside Jon's brain at the words. The two were far away enough that the others would not hear
their whispers, but Jon still pulled Damian closer to the opposite end of the room as he said,
"Look, I've been very respectful and patient these past couple of days...but you HAVE to tell
me what your relationship with Brook is like! I'm so curious!"

Damian frowned.

"What do you mean by curious? It's my business and my business only, unless you wish to be
bitten by Titus?" he replied, honestly surprised it took Jon this look to act out on his
'curiosity'.

Jon fidgeted with his knitted sweater, blue eyes bright with mischief as he said, "Well, I know
you're capable of kissing...obviously. But do you even talk to her, or just sit beside her and
frown like you do with everyone? Do you hold hands, can you even do that? What do you
guys even talk about, assassin secrets and fighting moves? Have you even smiled at her,
because if not I think you should practice that a fair bit! Oh! Do you have nicknames? I
suppose you using someone's first name is already endearment enough, but still! How did
you even ask her out? Have you two-"

Damian made sure his glare deepened to cut off his friend, and Jon seemed to get the memo
as he slouched back on the couch, clearly expecting Damian not to reply to any of
his...ridiculous inquiries.

He honestly considered not saying a thing, but the Wayne knew full well these questions
would be asked for weeks until answered.

With a tired sigh, Damian lounged elegantly on the couch, picking invisible lint off his
turtleneck as he answered in a voice that was almost a whisper, "Of course she and I talk, we
do it all the time. We rarely focus on our past, but I've found its not difficult to speak about
anything that comes to mind, not with her...especially since she's not pushy like other people
I know" he said, sending a clear glare Jon's way at that last bit.

Jon did not seem to mind the insult, not at all as he perked up at the words with a bright
smile, leaning on his thighs as he made a hand gesture to continue.

Damian honestly considered trowing himself off the nearest window, knowing full well the
grappling hook hidden on his belt would be enough to survive the ten story height of the T-
shaped building. Damian had jumped out of higher buildings with ease after all.

Unfortunately, that was not worth getting scolded by Dick for.

Again, fighting a groan of annoyance, Damian swore to keep things as detail-less as possible
as he picked another question out of the pile of inquiries Jon had practically thrown at him.

"If you must know, I have grown used to physical contact with Brooklyn, more so than I'm
willing to have around others" he relented.

Jon yelped in excitement, almost bouncing happily on the couch with wide eyes full of
wonder.

"Brook isn't exactly the most touch-friendly person in the world too, not anywhere near your
level of course, but gosh...I'm glad you two are working past that!"

Damian looked out the window when he felt a bit of heat forming on his cheeks, especially
when he recalled just exactly when Jon had seen the evidence of his relationship, on a day he
and his beloved were trying to work past those barriers the kryptonian was just referring to.

It wasn't until the blush left his cheeks that Damian turned back to see Jon had discarded his
book, leaning closer yet as he silently begged for more information like a dog waiting for a
treat.

When Damian refused to elaborate further and some of his hidden daggers silently made way
to his hands, Jon still did not seem the least bit threatened as he pushed, "Please! I'm really
curious and have been trying to work out how you two work for days! I get you two must
have a lot in common with the whole assassins thing, but even you wouldn't have started a
relationship for that alone. Don't tell me our talks gave you the confidence to ask her out my
friend?"

Damian would rather die than admit Jon had helped in any way, so he didn't.
Instead, Robin fiddled with his daggers, one from his father, the other a gift from Brooklyn. It
was to that vibranium blade Damian turned to as he tried to ponder a vague way to explain all
the things and emotions that guided him to Brooklyn even when he'd fought them relentlessly
the whole way through.

It was a lot more than the times they shared alone, the secrets shared, and the things they
overcame as one. To this day, Damian still had no idea how to put it into words, only into art
on a canvas during dark sleepless nights.

To put it simply and to still maintain his usual reputation, Damian replied annoyedly, "When
we are together, she is Brooklyn and I am Damian. Nothing more or less"

Jon raised a confused brow, clearly not understanding just how rare and special such a way to
live was to Damian. Perhaps that was because Jon could let his guard down around everyone,
even a simple stranger in the street.

It didn't matter much if Jon understood anyways, the question had been answered.

Just as Raven and Beast Boy fought on the other side of the room for the phone ringing with
what was sure to be Tanya's reply, Jon saved Damian the trouble of spying on the
conversation by interrupting it altogether with those inquiries of his that seemed to stretch
like an endless ocean of stupidity.

"Fair" he said, "Then just tell me this last thing! How did you guys get together? You're both
stubborn and closed off...I'm more inclined to believe she asked you out"

Damian ignored the shadows chasing the shifted green monkey around the room, only paying
attention that they were too busy to listen as he admitted quickly enough to get it over with,
"I was the one who asked, its not like it's a difficult task" never mind that he'd been more
nervous that he'd ever admit, "I expressed my feelings shortly before she was to be executed
by all the assassin clans. I snuck into the dungeons at midnight to try and free her"

"Wow....how romantic!"

Jon muttered something about their lives being far beyond reason at that last statement, but
seemed to silently process the information, as if he was trying to imagine what that had been
like.

Damian would've threatened Jon with kryptonite to the heart if any of that information was
said to anyone, that was before a green hawk landed on Jon's shoulder, black-cased phone in
its talons.

"Save me!" the hawk said, but Damian didn't even bother to lift a hand in greeting. He just
leaned back on his white leather seat as tendrils of shadows snaked around the hawk's body
as Jon flew up to the ceiling in surprise.

Perhaps it was due to his and Jon's presence that Raven halted her attack, she just settled on a
nearby chair and greeted the two silently with a nod as a green leopard settled by her feet
comfortably.
THIS had been the reason Dick had dragged Damian along to the tower. Despite his best
attempts to hide it, his big brother thought Damian could do well with spending time with
others his age. Jon had been invited to make sure he didn't cause problems, that at least
someone would get a conversation going.

The thing was, Damian did socialize with others...with his team. Dick of course did not need
to know that, he'd likely overreact or mention he shouldn't spend so much time around a
Stark anyways.

So as Raven and Logan picked up an easy flowing conversation with Jon, Damian gladly
ignored them as he thought about the patrols he'd have to do tonight in Gotham (even if he
was still not allowed to go on his own), pondered on how Rosa was doing in Alfred's care,
and even dared to think about Selina's safety.

The woman had not been feeling well this morning, threw up her breakfast and then some as
soon as she got a whiff of Jason's protein drink. Father had shown a level of concern Damian
would've otherwise ignored on a normal day, but the teen had not forgotten the appearance
Selina had made at school a few days ago.

So despite his best attempts to push past his small worry, it was still evident in his mind, like
a festering plague. The worst and most irrational part of it all was that he wasn't just worried
for the woman who'd snuck her way into father's heart, but Damian's ridiculous concern
extended to the unborn fetus as well.

What had he become...

Damian only snapped back into the room when he heard Beast Boy's high pitched voice say,
"When I saw you two on TV I almost lost my mind! Never in a million years did I think I'd
see Damian willingly work with others that weren't his family, I didn't even think he'd want to
be anything more than a vigilante all his life!"

The Wayne wondered if Beast Boy could shift into a bird fast enough if he threw the insolent
being out the window, but again, it would not be worth Dick's disappointed lectures.

Instead of choosing violence, Damian merely glared intensively at the green leopard, letting
one of his daggers flash against the light of the room in warning.

"Is there something wrong about my hero status you'd like to share" Damian said, making
sure his voice was low and menacing, which was enough to send a green mouse shaking its
head violently back to his seat across the room.

Raven did not seem mad, she only stood slowly from her own seat, the purple hooded cloak
pooling against the polished floors as she turned back to join her friend. Before leaving, the
teen nodded at the two in farewell, then said lazily, "He wasn't mocking you, Damian. We are
congratulating you. It seems something has changed since the last time we met, even Tanya
says you've become tolerable"

Damian huffed angrily, not at all caring about what either girl thought of him. What made
him pause were Raven's next words, which she said with a hint of surprise that was barely
traceable, "Before you start yelling, I'm not reading your emotions....but I do feel a calmness
washing over you, over that storm of emotions you've had since we met. Not only does your
strength grow, but you mind has as well"

With that, Raven left the pair of friends alone, focusing back on her schoolwork as if she
hadn't said a bunch of incomprehensible nonsense.

Jon wasted no time to move by Damian side on the couch, and even as the Wayne scooted
towards the end, the kryptonian only moved closer.

"Ohhh! I bet Raven was talking about you and Brooklyn!"

Damian frowned, but was unable to deny the fact that his beloved did bring a sort of peace to
his mind. He tried not to think about it much, the truth of the statement and how much he
might one day rely on it.

He wondered if Jon felt the same with Yelena, too wondered what their relationship was
like...was curious about how much the blonde was willing to share about her past with a boy
who could not relate to it.

Yesterday, Brooklyn had mentioned she'd heard Ivan had been asking to speak to her again,
only this time he'd said it was not to give up information...but for Brook's own well being.
She'd refused of course, especially considering what her last talk with the idiot had done.

Brooklyn thought Damian hadn't noticed yet, the way she fell back on her old instincts when
things got dangerous during patrols, how her mind shifted into Red Room tactics and
teachings when they spent hours looking for traces of the Joker. That he wasn't ashamed to
admit being worried about.

It only made Damian hate that man all the more.

When he asked Jon of what he knew regarding Ivan and the Red Room, he found Jon was
learning little things day by day, that Yelena was not withholding information out of
distrust...but she feared scaring Jon away.

"Ivan is too knowledgeable, knows something bad is coming...I think he might try to escape
one day" Damian mused out-loud, fists clenching into fists at the thought of that monster
being set loose.

Grandfather had been a ruthless leader, but even he had not experimented alien science with
kids. Even he had not deprived children of sunlight.

Jon shook his head, as if pushing the thought away when he replied, "If that day ever comes,
then we have to protect them. Yelena is strong, far more so than most, but I know there is one
thing she fears...thats going back to the Red Room. They did such awful things to her and
Brooklyn...we can't let that happen again"

Damian for once found himself in agreement with Jon.

It took no effort to agree with that statement, for it was a promise Damian had already made
with himself months ago, since that day he'd seen the scars on Brooklyn's back and then the
fear in her eyes at the wild flames she produced.

Ivan was a clever assassin, one that would likely bid his time for revenge instead of laying on
his back defeatedly by a mere incarceration after all.

Their side of the room went quiet for a few seconds, leaving nothing but the air conditioning
noises and the taps of Jon's feet as the two teens sat there pondering about all that was and the
horrors that came with it.

It seemed to be a manageable task for Damian, but Jon's face was contorted in sadness and
fear.

Perhaps it was the fact that they were on the same page (definitely not out of concern for Jon)
that Damian changed the subject, "You questioned me about my private life with little shame.
So let me ask you this since you are not of our same background. Are you ok with dating an
assassin, knowing all she's done?"

Jon went wide eyed at the words, being quick to reply, "Of course I don't mind! The past is
the past, she might be from the Red Room, but she's a hero now. With Tony Stark as a father,
she seems more comfortable than ever leaving all that darkness behind to start a new life!
Plus I really like her, all of her, no matter what"

Damian knew Jon had a big heart, and he'd not asked such a question implying Jon was
incapable of dating Yelena. He'd merely asked to make sure that despite their differences no
hatred or fear would arise.

Not because he cared, but because Jon was a friend and Yelena was Brooklyn's sister, both
were teammates. That's all.

He supposed the answer was enough to prove there was no problem after all...

It was seconds later that Dick came into the room, happily announcing Damian and Jon
should accompany him for some fresh air in the Tower's gardens. It was more of a command
than request.

On their way down, Jon had whispered something about Damian needing to be a more
affectionate boyfriend as Beast Boy had said.

The Wayne thought he was already being extremely affectionate, but Jon did not let the
matter go until he replied to Brooklyn's text from this morning with a little heart emoji at the
end.

Once at the gardens, Damian had made sure his phone was not facing Dick or Starfire as he
hesitantly sent that cursed heart through. It almost seemed wrong, but Jon had reinstated that
it was a way of showing affection, which Brooklyn deserved of course.
So he sent the damn thing and shut off his phone, ignoring Jon's silent cheers and pats on the
back as Damian tried to control the heat from his face.

It wasn't until midnight that Brooklyn had replied with a confirmation of her 'Goliath
babysitting' time for next week. Then she'd surprised him by sending a lone red heart with a
question mark, followed by asking if he was feeling alright.

Leave it to his beloved to realize that was something he wouldn't do.

The fact that she knew him so well made his heart pick up a few irregular beats.

Despite his exhaustion from a food fight at dinner, the flight back and forth from San
Fransisco, and the caring he'd done for Rosa till bedtime, Damian had confessed to being
pressured into it by Jon.

I was told you would like the form of affection through text.

It was awhile until the reply came, but when it did, Damian couldn't help the small smirk that
was illuminated by his phone light.

If you don't like it, you don't have to use it. I know you care for me already, I don't need a
heart to tell me that, Dami.

Either way, that heart seemed lonely. You and I are a team, next time you're pressured into
doing it, you should sent two hearts so that I know you remember we stand together through
it all.

Damian rolled his eyes, but felt all tension leave his body as he confirmed he'd do just that if
Jon meddled again...then sent a pair of red hearts to prove he did understand, yet added a
little knife emoji next to each, so the hearts could protect one another the way he and
Brooklyn did.

Brook's following reply was a set of red hearts and knifes of her own, a silent promise that
their something more stood strong as one.

Damian would never admit that such a stupid and basic phone texting function did, in fact,
make him feel a sense of affection coming through.

He'd been quick to send out one last text...

Good night, my beloved nemesis.

To which she had replied in kind,

Good night, my esteemed rival

Damian went to bed swearing to himself that emojis were still useless, even when Titus found
him smirking at his phone in the morning at the sight of last night's conversation.

He knew then that whatever came their way, the calm, the storm...they'd face it all together.
Dick Grayson (Wayne) POV-

Dick Grayson had expected to see chaos and blood when he walked into the room where
Damian waited for him at the Titan's Tower.

He was almost ready to tell everyone to stop fighting as he rounded the corner towards the
open door...but then he'd heard Damian speaking with ease, not angry or bored.

"...so let me ask you this since you are not of our same background. Are you ok with dating
an assassin, knowing all she's done?"

Jon's voice echoed down the hall with a shocking response that made Dick freeze, "Of course
I don't mind! The past is the past, she might be from the Red Room, but she's a hero now.
With Tony Stark as a father, she seems more comfortable than ever leaving all that darkness
behind to start a new life!Plus I really like her, all of her, no matter what"

It took a few seconds to realize what was said, to process the information he'd just heard.

Jon was dating someone, which under other circumstances would be a chance for Dick to
tease the young kryptonian about...but Damian had said she was an assassin...Jon had
revealed she was from the Red Room...and a Stark.

Oh no...

Dick had to hold back on all that shock, grief, and worry as Starfire rounded the corner. He
had not even dared mention anything he'd heard until he'd arrived back at Gotham.

Oh, he'd wasted no time in dragging his siblings to his old room, ignoring their whines and
complaints along the way.

When Dick had revealed what he'd learned, everyone was understandably as upset as he was.
They had all hoped Brooklyn would be the one to bring Damian out of his darkness...but they
had been negligent and waited too long to do something.

They had all been sure for weeks that Damian was crushing on the Stark, thought the only
hurdle would be their brother's inexperience and stubbornness. But their greatest invisible
hurdle had been something unexpected...kryptonian beauty.

True, Jon was probably every teenage girl's dream of a perfect boyfriend...Steph and Babs
had admitted as such. Jon was a football player, charming, kind, strong, brave...plus he had
those ice blue eyes and black hair girls seemed to like (that Dick knew from experience
thanks to his own good looks).

How had they not seen this coming?

Damian...oh Damian...he must be devastated if this is how his first crush turned out. He was
likely putting up a strong front if only because Jon was his friend.

But this was wrong, Dick knew in his heart that Damian and Brooklyn (despite all their
differences) had to be right for one another...he'd seen it, and so had his siblings. So while
most normal adults would've let it go and tried to cheer up a seemingly unaffected
Damian...they just couldn't let it end like this.

This was their ship on the line, and they were Waynes....Waynes did not give up at the sight
of trouble. Waynes enacted justice where justice was due.

So the siblings stayed up licking their emotional wounds, and even Cass and Jason had
seemed enthusiastic enough about changing this tide around. Dare Dick say, Jason looked the
angriest of them all (something about his efforts going to waste).

Jon was a friend, an ally, and Dick owed him much for befriending Damian when no one else
would...but he was messing with their ship...and for that, the kryptonian would have to pay.
 Football Finals

Brooklyn POV-

It was late in the afternoon when the sounds of cheers in the distance filled Brooklyn's ears
along with band music, chants, smells of buttery popcorn and the sights of falling snowflakes
were all that was in the moment.

Normally, Brooklyn would've been home by now after a long day of patrols and
investigations, would likely be buried deep in homework of company documents in need of
approval.

But this afternoon was no ordinary day.

After weeks of preparation, the Midtown High Football team was ready to have a very
important game that would determine their advancement into state finals, which was no small
feat.

The school had been buzzing with excitement for the past few weeks, and since Midtown was
predicted to win against Bayvillle High School, the student body had been more than ready to
come show their support for the win.

This was a historic game, and it was too bad Harley and Agent Claire would miss it thanks to
a big robotics project her brother had to get done back at the compound. It would've been
nice to have him around, though perhaps it was best he had not come, not after what she
found out.

Brooklyn and her friends should be out in the field right now basking in the pre-game
ambiance, but instead they snuck inside the school's computer room since they'd been
summoned by Ned minutes ago.

Ned had deemed the absence of the football captain and co-captain worth it of whatever he'd
found, which is why the team now stood around a teacher's table in the room waiting for Ned
to bring up a discovery he'd just made that had startled him to the core.

Tanya had just arrived, setting down her pompoms and rushing to their side in the poorly lit
room to avoid detection of teachers. The cheerleader in green settled by Brook's side, eyes
wide as she pointed at her phone with a huff.

"What's the deal? The game is about to start in a few minutes and everyone is waiting for the
captains!" Tanya said.

Brooklyn turned her gaze to Ned, watching as he swiped his iPad to display an image on the
3D board on the table. It was a series of numbers and codes that soon turned into files.

His face was serious for once, enough for all complaints to stop once they realized just how
serious this must be.
"I've been looking into the audio tech Cobalus used to distort his voice weeks ago" Ned
explained, catching everyone's attention at last, "I was going to wait to tell you what I found
after the game since Jon and Harry are nervous enough but-"

Harry, decked in his football attire merely shrugged at the implications, explaining wearily, "I
have had one hour of sleep, one cheeseburger, and sixteen shots of espresso...I'm ready to
fight God or die trying. Just tell us what you found"

Everyone around the table nodded in agreement, which prompted Ned to open up the files
he'd found, which held highlighted text.

Brook and Damian locked eyes across the table, both their gazes eager to finally have found a
lead of some sort, even when part of them dreaded what they would find. It had been quiet,
Cobalus had not made a move, even when there had been multiple busts of his weapons.

Brooklyn figured whatever Ned had found would be awful...and she'd been right.

"The only places in the world with audio tech more sophisticated than Stark Industries,
Wayne Enterprises, and Oscorp is actually just one company" Ned said, pushing aside the
company files the three teens had relented to Ned from their companies for inspection, only
to reveal one he'd had to hack into himself.

"There IS one company that recently made new audio distortion tech thats supposed to come
out to help the American government. It's LexCorp"

Damian leaned close, shrugging off his leather jacket to better scan the documents before him
as Brook tried to push back the warmth pooling at her hands, the fire rising from her own
worry.

True to Ned's word, the LexCorp top secret reports detailed new tech in that field that had yet
to be announced to the public. Thus, it was untraceable if it fell into the wrong hands. Or
perhaps...

"Do you think Lex Corp could be working with Cobalus then?" Brooklyn asked, "because
either Cobalus managed to steal secret tech from one of the world's most successful
companies, or maybe I underestimated how insane Lex Luthor can be"

Brook had only met the man a handful of times, and each one of those had left her feeling
uncomfortable and unsettled. She'd merely assumed the guy had taken one too many energy
drinks, or that he relished in being the weird one of the room.

Could she have severely underestimated that man?

MJ pushed back her long curls, quickly taking out her phone to confirm suspicions on
something. It didn't take long for her to find what she was looking for, displaying her cracked
screen to the group.

"I knew I'd heard about this" MJ said, showing a news article with Lex on the front cover as
she explained, "During the time Brook and Yelena went on their mission, Lex was in Italy for
a fundraiser dedicated to the mental health of ex-military individuals. He was there for three
days, which means he very well could've been the Cobalus they saw, certainly has the money
for such a gathering"

Peter moved his eyes away from the technology diagrams, eyes wide as he looked around the
circle of friends, "Wait a second! We can't just say the CEO of LexCorp is an evil
mastermind! Didn't Brooklyn say he offered to help with the Joker investigation Harry's dad
is conducting?"

Peter seemed to realize the implications of his words just as everyone else did.

Brooklyn had once joked about how insistent Mr. Luthor had seemed after the events of the
ruined Oscorp gala. But perhaps that behavior was not out of concern, but a way to help the
Joker if he truly was the one in charge.

Jon, who'd been levitating above them to get a good look at the projected files, suddenly
moved to land beside Damian. He was mumbling things to himself until Yelena and Damian
nudged him with their elbows.

"Its probably nothing, but I once heard my dad was conducting an interview with Mr. Luthor"
Jon mentioned, hands nervously playing with his football jersey and helmet, "It was
something about dad thinking Lex was looking a little too deeply into superheroes. He was
afraid it would expose the Justice League members so he went to fry the computer circuits
with the investigation"

Interest in the heroes could mean he was trying to destroy them right? It wasn't a motive as to
why he wanted them dead, but the fact that he'd shown enough research that Superman had to
step in could be a clue to this winding web of questions.

Brooklyn turned her gaze between Damian and Harry, the two present who'd likely known
Lex the longest.

"Do you think he'd do it?" she'd asked them specifically.

Harry had been quick to answer, "I've been saying this since I was four, there are some
screws loose on that man. Though I'd like to think a man I have to see constantly isn't a super
villain, I think Lex Luthor IS shady sometimes"

Damian's glare had honed on the documents projected on the table, casing his shadowed face
in a blue glow.

"Lex Luthor is a a power-mad business magnate. Despite his ridiculous attitude that makes
him look like a foolish clown most of the time, he does have a brain about him, at least
enough to make him a successful CEO. He might just have a degree in Biochemical
Engineering, but he also has an impressive IQ, and owns enough resources and money to pull
a secret operation like this undetected" Damian mused.

Harry snorted, then added, "When did you have time to stalk him? Jesus, you know a lot
about him"
Damian's stoic demeanor did not change or falter as he replied, "I make assessments of
everyone of notable status that I meet, a good habit to keep in case things like these happen"

Ned looked away from his screen, brows high as he asked, "Does that mean you've looked
into our lives too?"

The room was quiet for a heartbeat, that is until Damian said with no ounce of an apology,
"Of course, but none of you pose serious threats to me anymore. I only payed close attention
to Lex Luthor because I found out he funds a lot of organizations against aliens. He's stated
more than once that he views Superman as a threat to humanity, but in reality, I think the idiot
envies Superman's popularity and influence"

Brooklyn had never held a conversation with the man long enough to figure that out, but that
would explain why Damian found Lex to be worth noting, considering he was a danger to
many people he knew. Superman, Jon and his siblings, Starfire, even the Martian Manhunter
and Thor could be targeted in those ideals.

"So what if he doesn't like aliens?" MJ asked, "There are many people that don't feel
comfortable with them, but that doesn't mean he'll do something about it. How can we be
sure?"

MJ was right. Having someone like Lex Luthor as a suspect was a serious accusation,
something that would make any moves they make from now on all the harder. They needed
some kind of evidence that said hatred for the alien heroes was a serious concern rather than
just words from a jealous man.

Luckily or unluckily, they had just that....

Ned pulled up another file he found deep within LexCorp's hidden documents, private ones
by the looks of it.

"I was looking to see if Mr. Luthor had records of payments of large quantities to unknown
sources or shady organizations that could fund the weapons being made. Instead I found this
in his personal files" Ned explained, sliding another set of pages onto the table hologram.

Brooklyn and Yelena were the first to scoff at the blueprints, rightfully so considering this
had to do with their dad.

A few years ago, dad had been taken to court because the government (more like Hydra), had
wanted to seize control of the Iron Man suits for their own gain. They had claimed that such
advanced weaponry was dangerous for just one man to own, and that the technology had
inspired many others to try and make an 'Iron Man' suit of their own.

Dad had been quick to shut them down, bringing in evidence of underground groups and
known companies like Hammer Industries failing miserably in their attempts to recreate the
work of the great Tony Stark.

It appears Lex Luthor had taken his shot at trying to create an armor of his own, one labeled
as Warsuit.
Though it had little similarities to dad's own machinery, it was still a suit, a mechanized
armor meant to enhance strength, flight, and contained advanced weaponry. It seemed its
main purpose was not to use it to save innocent lives, but to be closer in skill to Superman
himself.

That wasn't a guess.

Some of the animated demonstrations of the functions of the suit included a familiar caped
hero in them. The sight alone made Jon lean closer, eyes wide in horror as said animations
depicted the suit's ability to withstand several attacks by Superman before sustaining damage.

Its integrated force field seemed an awful lot like alien technology, and it was strong enough
to be a worthy defense. Brooklyn also noticed the suit could deliver powerful energy blasts,
containing a molecular sheath capable of blocking Superman's body from absorbing energy
from solar radiation.

Holy gods...

"That would weaken Superman's powers overtime" Damian muttered as the animation played
along. It sent a string of mental curses through Brook's head, even as Harry's own cursing had
not been reserved to himself.

The teens watched in mild horror as the suit was shown to posses something called 'red solar
radiation'. It did not explain its molecular structure or purpose, but it was shown delivering
red beams that could weaken Superman.

Yelena had leaned closer to Jon then, intertwining their hands as she glared defensively at the
animations from a suit that could very well hurt her boyfriend as well.

All those features paired with things like advanced sensor systems, a hypnotism weapon, and
some form of illusion casting technology were enough to make Brooklyn worried Lex
actually stood a decent chance against a kryptonian, one of the most powerful beings on this
Earth.

To ease her worries, Jon said, "There is no kryptonite features in the suit. This isn't enough to
kill my dad, not yet at least"

Still, the damage was done...

This was evidence enough for them to be convinced Lex was worth investigating, especially
when Ned mentioned he had not been able to sneak into more classified files without being
detected, meaning there was still more to uncover when it came to the CEO.

The problem was, they couldn't just present this stuff to their parents, not even the police
considering Ned had committed a serious crime in obtaining the information. Even if
everyone overlooked that and took this seriously, it would only help in alerting Lex of what
they knew.
So they decided to keep this on the down-low, figure out some way to investigate this further
later. They had little time afterwards to run down to the field, and once everyone (save for
Jon, Tanya, and Harry) were settled on the stands...the teens did their best to forget what they
had uncovered, focusing instead on basking in the ambiance of a game that meant a lot to
their friends.

Brooklyn, clad in Harry's jersey per his request for good luck, let herself focus on the cheers
around her, on the sight of the football team down on the field getting ready to play.

Damian stood beside her, not close enough to make the students around them question it, but
she could tell that he too was struggling to focus on the game in hand.

As much as Brook wanted to go gather more intel, she fought that Red Room insistency to
prioritize missions, reminding herself with some difficulty that this game was important to
her friends. They weren't just heroes, they were teens as well.

So as soon as the football was at play, Brook cheered for Jon and Harry as if nothing were
wrong, watching as the two worked beautifully with their team. The snow did not seem to
hinder their playing, how could it when Harry was good at making calls and Jon was great at
executing them even without using some of his kryptonian advantages.

Though Damian wasn't much for cheering, he relented a few nods of approval whenever Jon
scored a touchdown, tapped his fingers on the rail before them when a chant ran across the
stands.

On and on the scoreboard seemed to grow in Midtown's favor, and soon the worries from
before vanished to the back of Brook's head as her throat became sore from so much
screaming of her own. The cold had vanished from her body without the need to use the fire
dwelling in her too.

All she could feel was pride for her friends, letting herself get lost in the joy of the crowds
around her.

Beside her, Yelena seemed to be enjoying herself quite a lot, especially when her boyfriend
rushed over after every touchdown he made to hug the blonde tight, their mixed joy and
smiles were something that made Brooklyn's own good mood grow.

It wasn't until the end of the first quarter that Damian nudged her a little to show her Clark
Kent and his family arrive at the Midtown stands. Though Brook was glad to see Jon's family
had come for moral support, it also meant she and Damian couldn't stand too close together
now.

Yelena seemed to note the change as well, and moved to stand between Brook and Damian in
an effort to help conceal their secret.

Sometimes Brooklyn really was glad her sister knew of her relationship...it was good to have
a helping hand.
The teens had little to no contact with the Kents however, and the quarters passed by faster
and faster each time. By the time notable amounts of snow had started to pile onto the field
and the sky had turned to night, Midtown was left a few yards from the scoring area.

They were ahead, but if they made one more touchdown, the win would be declared in their
favor.

Brooklyn fought the urge to hold Damian's hand as Harry received the ball down on the field,
eyes scanning his players for an opening to make the winning pass. By now, the players in
red from the other school were well aware of Jon's skills, and had taken to guarding him more
than most.

It was the perfect sacrifice.

Jon moved around his blockade of players, looking as if he'd be the one to receive the ball,
weaving around the enemy teens enough that they brought on more players to guard him.

Harry seemed to smirk behind his helmet as the ball went flying into the cold air, where one
of his now unguarded teammates easily caught the incoming ball, and thus the final whistle
blew, and the Midtown stands turned to chaos.

Gold and green confetti flew around them, getting stuck to Brook's hair, jersey, and gloves.
Not that she minded, not when Yelena tackled her into a celebratory hug which Peter, MJ,
and Ned joined in for.

They watched as the Midtown team gathered into a huddle full of screams of victory as the
stands sang the school's song. Even the student in the school's tiger mascot outfit joined in.

On and on did the celebrations go, especially when Peter and the rest of the school band
played and the football players rushed over to receive proper congratulations.

Jon ,of course, rushed into Yelena's arms first, tackling her into a hug they both seemed to
relax into. Harry had rushed to the rest of Dynasty team first, picking up the first two people
he came across with little effort thanks to his unmeasurable joy. Those two happened to be
MJ and Brook.

It wasn't long for the whole team (they'd even dragged Damian along) to join in a hug full of
careless laughter, pats on the back to the sweating players, and enough joy that they all
seemed to forget everything other than the fact that the school now had a shot to win a greater
glory in the future.

Brooklyn wasn't sure how long the celebrations went on for. Jon had rushed over to hug his
crying family at some point which had only been made better when Yelena was called to join
in their embrace. They knew the two teens were together by now and welcomed Brook's
sister with open arms into their circle.

It was an unexpectedly beautiful sight.

A few of the players, Harry most of all, had been carried by the large crowd for a while,
lifting them up like gods amongst men. It had been a whirlwind of simple teenage beauty,
even when Tanya had dragged Brook and MJ to sing the school anthem with the cheer squad.

When it became late and everyone was getting ready to go home, Harry had rushed over to
his convertible with Peter and Ned in tow for their sleepover at his place uptown. Everyone
had been invited of course, but MJ and Tanya were expected back home.

In a series of unplanned events, when Mr. Kent had walked over to where Brook, Yelena and
Damian were getting their things together/ secretly planning when to meet up to figure out
what to do about Lex Luthor, the man had suggested something quite peculiar.

He and his family had greeted them all like old friends, even when Damian just rolled his
eyes at his godfather. But pleasantries were not all they exchanged.

Apparently, Clark Kent had overheard Brook was planning on having a sleepover, or at least
that's what she'd called in considering they'd gotten permission from dad for Yelena to stay at
the apartment thanks to the late hour they'd planned to stay at school for.

Apparently, Mr. Kent thought ALL her friends were having a sleepover, and chose to give
Jon and Damian permission to go, promising to keep such details from Bruce Wayne in case
he asked.

"You kids deserve to go and celebrate together! Jon should celebrate this day with his
classmates and girlfriend after all. Have fun, but don't forget to call in the morning when you
are on your way back" Mr. Kent had said, followed by Mrs. Lois Kent placing a few fat
kisses on Jon's head as she urged him to not go to bed too late.

None of the teens bothered to correct Superman, and soon, the four of them had piled into
Roscoe towards an unplanned sleepover with their two 'babies' sharing one car seat with
seemingly no complaints.

Given that they already knew the secrets of the relationships between them, none of the four
objected to the idea of having some time alone, considering that would mean spending time
with their significant others without having to hide.

Even Damian had not complained, merely turning to Brook in the passenger's seat as he
handed over his phone while driving down the busy roads, asking her to message his father
that he'd be staying at Jon's. That only prompted Jon an additional sort of happiness at being
able to 'help keep their secret'.

GIL had been the first to welcome them all back by name, giving a few updates on the peace
of the city, the cold climate thanks to the snow, and a few casual messages from the
Avengers. The usual. Even if GIL's greeting of Damian seemed a little kinder...that robot was
getting pretty spoiled too.

The apartment was warm and cozy with they arrived, and given that everyone already knew
the place like the back of their hand, they had no trouble settling down for a movie.
Before that, everyone changed into more comfortable clothes to sleep in, for which Brook
handed over a spare set of red silk pjs to her sister, and Damian reluctantly went into the
spare room to hand Jon some of his own clothes.

Jon had received the black sweats and the navy blue Metropolitan Museum of Art t-shirt with
wide eyes, staring at Damian as if he'd grown an extra head.

"I'm not giving you new undergarments, we're not that close. If the clothes are not to your
liking, you can sleep in your football attire like a caveman, Kent" Damian said with a roll of
his eyes, moving to go back into the spare room where he too would change into his comfort
clothes.

Damian was stopped mid-way when Jon said, "The clothes are fine, I'm sure they'll fit. I'm
just surprised you have clothes here. Um...why is that?"

Brooklyn froze her handing over of socks to her sister, not quite realizing until then how odd
it must seem to Jon and Yelena that Damian would have clothes in a home that was not his
own.

Damian's back was still turned towards them all in the hallway, but he answered calmly, "Of
course I have clothes here. We do too much hero work in Queens, it is only logical I prepare
for any emergency"

Brooklyn knew damn well that was not the reason, perhaps at first, but Damian had since
mentioned more than once that he did not mind leaving clothes here (or that she wore them
from time to time), in case he needed to stay over for an emergency.

Either way, Jon accepted the reasoning, and after everyone changed and the pizza they'd
ordered arrived, the four had settled on the couches in the living room. Jon and Yelena in one,
and Brook and Damian occupying the other. Both Rosa and Seyg shared the foldable baby
crib Brook had purchased for convenience, and the only one that seemed to mind that little
fact was Damian, who glared holes at Jon's child as if the robot would do something.

It was honestly hilarious how much he refused to admit he cared for Rosa sometimes...

She was not surprised that Damian kept a respectful distance even with their secret out in the
open. Damian may be willing to show affecting behind closed doors, but perhaps not yet in
front of others. Brook did not mind or push the matter, not when under the blanket they
shared, their hands were intertwined.

It was thanks to that opportunity given to them by Mr. Kent that Brook really got to see what
Yelena's relationship with Jon was like...

The kryptonian loved hugs, cuddles, things like that, and to Brook's surprise, Yelena allowed
such forms of affection. She'd yet to return them it seemed, but her sister looked comfortable
with the closeness she'd been denied since birth.

It eased something in Brooklyn to see those two happy and relaxed, even more so to be able
to spend some extra time with Damian, especially after what they had figured out about Lex
Luthor. The greasy goodness of the best pizza in Queens also helped a fair amount in that
department.

It was around the time the pizza was halfway finished that Yelena mentioned she'd been
planning to celebrate the school win with Brooklyn since this morning.

"You knew the team would win?" Jon asked, turning back on the couch towards Yelena, who
was busy rummaging through her backpack.

She only stopped momentarily to say, "Of course. I may not hold faith in much, but I do in
you"

Brooklyn tried to hold back her smile at the reddening of Jon's cheeks at the words. Said
sentiment stopped dead when Yelena proudly pulled out a bottle of vodka, one Brook
recognized from Nat's secret stash.

All three widows could hold their liquor, but this specially made vodka was something Nat
mentioned reserving for when she needed some quiet after a bad mission or a world ending
event.

"Please don't tell me you had that at school this whole time" Brook begged, sighing when
Yelena nodded calmly as if alcohol was not prohibited at school.

She could've been expelled for that!

Jon and Damian seemed to share the same sentiments, straightening up from their seats at the
sight of the bottle of clear liquid.

Yelena only settled back down on the couch calmly, setting down the bottle on the coffee
table, "I thought it might be nice to have a drink, what with the snow outside to remind us of
the Russian winters we used to drink through as kids"

Brook thought of reminding Yelena that drinking at their age was illegal here, that they'd both
be dead if Natasha figured out we stole her precious liquor anyways. But she was tired from
the game, from thoughts of Lex Luthor, and just the overall weight of existence...so she held
back her scolding.

Jon, the golden boy, had other plans.

"Lena! We can't just drink! What if our parents find out! Damian and I have never drank in
our..." Jon's panicked gaze turned into something amused as he beheld a silent Damian who
was already glaring at the alcohol on the table like it was the Joker.

Jon smirked then, seeming to recall the same thing Brook and Damian did. The day they'd all
spent at Flash's halloween party, when Damian had braved alcohol for the first time, which
ended up turning into quite the amusing night.

That had been the first night Brook and Damian had relaxed, hanging out with one another,
playing cards and dancing without a care of their supposed hatred for one another. It had been
the first time Brooklyn had driven successfully, thanks to Damian's drunk instructions.
That had also been the day the two had admitted their desires to be friends, they'd done so in
the spare room a few steps away actually.

It had been Damian's first time staying in her apartment over night as well.

Just like when she'd carried an injured Damian to the Wayne manor without hesitation, she'd
brought him into her home that night of the party, not minding one bit that this was her space
and he was an 'enemy'. It had been one of the first times in her life that Brooklyn realized she
could care for someone, that killing wasn't the only thing in her blood.

Yelena, oblivious to their memories of the past before her arrival, spent the next few minutes
hearing Jon's enthusiastic retelling of said night. He'd gone as far as to stand up, having to
dodge pizza crusts thrown by a glaring Damian with his enhanced speed as he recalled
loosing his grumpy friend at that party, only to see him dancing with Brook sometime later.

Jon's standing up only served to show that the borrowed sweats were a little short, reached up
to his ankles, and the shirt was a little big since Damian was more built than his friend...he
looked positively ridiculous.

"I could smell the alcohol on him even from a room away" Jon recounted fondly, "Then
Brooklyn told me she'd be taking him home, and I don't know why, but I knew that Damian
was in good hands. I never actually asked what happened afterwards now that I think about
it..."

Brooklyn hid her smile once again, reaching for the vodka when Yelena's soft green eyes and
Jon's ocean blue ones honed on her for an explanation. Long forgotten was the plate of pizza
crusts on her lap as she took a swing of the liquid.

"I couldn't drive him all the way to Gotham, so he took the guest room and went home in the
morning. No big deal" she said, watching as Damian nodded in agreement, pushing back
tendrils of his black hair to gaze into her eyes as if to say, thank you for not elaborating.

Jon took the words as truth, settling back down as Yelena reached over to swipe the bottle
from Brook's hands for a swing of her own. Her elder sister did not flinch at the taste, neither
of them likely would as long as they kept the intake to a minimum.

It only made her wonder...

"That night of the party, you didn't drink right?" she asked Jon.

The kryptonian was tapping his foot against the coffee table to the beat of the TV commercial
music, which Brooklyn did not point out to any of her distracted guests that it was an ad with
herself in it. In all honesty, she completely forgot when she could've possibly done a
photoshoot for Givenchy Breakfast at Tiffany's dresses...

Jon was quick to laugh at the question though, explaining, "I guess I always just assumed I
can't get drunk because of my dad. But I never stopped to think about what my human blood
might do when it comes to alcohol"
They all knew Damian's tolerance was as large as an ant, but Jon truly was a mystery, one Jon
did not get too curious about until later in the night when they'd all started getting sleepy.
Brooklyn's head was resting on Damian's shoulders by then, and he didn't bother hiding the
affection from Jon and Yelena as he tucked her in close, his own blinking becoming longer
and longer.

The two girls had drank a few sips of the alcohol, but had little to no effects from it by that
point, they were instead focusing on the movie on the TV.

That's when Jon had taken the bottle from Yelena, as she too had begun to curl up on the
couch beside him.

Brooklyn had been the first to witness Jon taking an experimental swing of the liquor, by
which time it was too late for Brook to warn him that was most definitely not the first drink
he should try consuming, not when it was enough to get someone like Natasha Romanoff
tipsy.

Yelena had reached for the bottle too late, and all three teens seemed to wake up from their
growing slumber as they beheld Jon's still body with mild horror.

At first Jon said nothing, then he began to complain about the taste, saying his throat was on
fire.

"You know," Jon said, already slurring with his words, "When I was little I didn't drink this
disgusting burning frink....drink. I drank chocolate milk!"

"He's drunk" all three teens sighed at once, observing as Jon tried to stand, only to trip over
the tangle of the blanket over his body, quickly falling to the ground.

Brook held back her amusement long enough to help the others get a giggling Jon to the
guest room, which had been a challenge on its own considering Jon was more than content to
fly up to the ceiling every five seconds.

They'd had to drag him over like a ballon using Damian's belt.

As Jon mumbled about animals he favored in his grandmother's farm, or insisted telling
Yelena how pretty she looked every five seconds, the teens realized the absurdity of this
mistake.

"Well, at least it happened here and now rather than at a public event" Yelena mused, tucking
Jon into bed as he lifted the bedside table over and over like it was a sheet of paper for
absolutely no reason.

Damian frowned down at his friend, but said in a whisper, "Its a notable weakness he'll have
to keep track of. He seems to have much of Superman's powers, but little of the immunity of
his father, much like his other siblings. What an idiot..."

Jon whined at the 'fire' atop Brook's head that was supposedly talking to him, then turned to
Yelena with pleading eyes as he whispered, "There are so many scary things in this room
Lena, stay to protect me, please! I used to have a.." hiccup "a Pikachu plushie when I was
little and it used to keep me safe at night. Oh, your beautiful hair reminds me of it, please stay
my beautiful Pokemon! I promise you will always be my favorite!"

Brooklyn and Yelena had no clue what nonsense he was spouting, but it was funny enough
that the younger Stark had to turn around to laugh at her sister's blushed face. But to hers and
Damian's shock, Yelena DID settle down on the side of the bed, brushing tendrils of Jon's
black hair aside rather clumsily while commanding him to sleep.

"I'm only staying here to keep him safe" Yelena said a little too defensively, "Are you two
alright with sharing a room?"

Brook refrained from explaining she and Dami had done so in more than one occasion, and
instead chose to simply nod, bidding both her and the drunk boy goodnight (who bid her
goodnight as well, but referred to her as 'Breakfast at Tiffany'....so ha HAD seen that ad...).

As she made to close the room's door, Brooklyn couldn't help but tease her looking sister with
a little wink.

One of Yelena's hands was busy being held by Jon's, but the other was free to throw a pillow
at Brooklyn's face. Thankfully, she'd closed the door in time to spare herself. The Russian
curses from the other side of the door were not as easily avoidable.

Damian didn't say anything until they made it to Brook's room. He was already more than
familiar with the space, but seemed conscious enough of the fact that their friends were on
the other side of the wall.

When the two settled on the bed (each placing a dagger under their pillows for emergencies),
stars shining upon the darkened room above their heads, Brooklyn let herself relax against
Damian's side, his arm comfortably against her back. She'd seen his hidden smirk at Jon's
misery, which had now faded into a content half-smile barely visible with the glow in the
room.

"Those two....I suppose Jon chose a very acceptable life mate" he whispered.

Brooklyn leaned up on an elbow to better look at Dami's face, amusement written all over her
own as she leaned their foreheads together.

"So you WERE worried for Jon all this time?" she teased.

Damian rolled his eyes, the emerald shade of them barely visible in the dark.

"Of course not. I'm just surprised by their compatibility is all" Damian replied, eyes locked to
her own at last seeming to relax fully.

Brooklyn decided against telling Damian he just cared for his friend's well being, instead
laying back down on his chest, pressing a small kiss to the skin just above his shirt collar
before settling for the night.
It had been a while since the two had shared a bed, and neither of them seemed to think about
it twice now, probably because neither found a problem with such arrangement. Brook
always did sleep more comfortably with Damian by her side after all.

She sighed against his warm chest, letting him drape the covers more comfortably around
them as she whispered, "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad they know our secret. I'm
glad there is one pair in the world that doesn't judge us for being together"

By the time Brook's eyelids began to close, either thanks to the few swings of alcohol she'd
consumed or just the exhaustion of the day...just as sleep was about to claim her, she felt
Damian's fingers threading through her auburn locks as he gently whispered back, "Me too,
beloved"

Yelena (Stark) POV-

Last night had been by far one of the weirdest of her life.

Yelena had slept on the couch in the spare room, not just because she wasn't sure about the
morality of sleeping on a bed with someone so drunk that couldn't give proper consent, but
also because it seemed rather odd at the time to think of sharing a bed with another human
being.

She'd slept alone all her life after all. Well, alone in a room full of hundreds of widows.

A few hours after they'd all turned in for the night, Yelena had found out that while Jon had
become drunk quite easily over a large sip of vodka, he'd been very quick to recover.

Jon had woken her up to offer the bed to her hour later, even when he knew his long legs
would make it difficult to sleep comfortably on the couch. It was an old act of chivalry,
sacrificing his comfort for her own, something she refused to accept.

So Jon, perhaps still a bit out of his wits, had set up all the covers and blankets on the floor,
leaving room for three people to fit comfortable between them on that makeshift bed. Yelena
had been far too tired to argue, sho she'd settled on her comfortable side of the floor, staring
at the snowing expanse beyond the bullet proof window before letting sleep consume her.

Like the past few weeks, the sounds of child wailing were an alarm to disturb the peace, but
one that no longer made Yelena want to throw Seyg Kent out a window.

The four teens had somehow come up with quick nightshifts when dealing with the rowdy
kids in the living room, who always seemed to trigger one another's crying.

Jon and Damian took the first shift, and Yelena often fell asleep by the sounds of their hushed
whispers alone. When it was hers and Brook's turn, the two girls settled on the dining table,
looking out at the night life of the city beyond as they fed or rocked the babies in their arms
back to sleep.

Though Yelena was half-awake during those times, she could still appreciate the ease in
which her sister handled her own baby, no wonder her scores were top of the class...
The night went on like that, but no one seemed too bothered from it by the time morning
rolled around, likely because they had already welcomed exhaustion like an old friend by
now.

Yelena was currently seated on the small kitchen table, lazily typing back good morning
messages to her parents, Harley, and Natasha, as she assured all of them she'd had a perfectly
fine time at her sister's apartment.

She'd left out the sleeping on the same floor as Jon of course, mostly because her tired mind
was still trying to process that (in fact, she'd left the boys' presence out completely). Speaking
of said Jon, he was sitting beside her, black hair a beautiful mess as he rested his hurting head
on the dinning table.

Ah, the pain of a first hangover...

Yelena would've likely done more to help that just pat her...her boyfriend...on the back as a
sign of what she hoped was comfort, but all further aid was taken care of by the two people
currently in the kitchen.

Yelena's tired eyes seemed to vanish the longer she looked towards that kitchen, watching a
bit of what her sister's world looked like.

Brook had mentioned yesterday that she'd let Damian stay here before, but it was astounding
to see just what that looked like, Ivan's heir and Ra's al Ghul's grandson walking barefoot in
their pjs, no weapons in hand and no worries to be seen.

It was a little astounding to see Brooklyn, (who in their youth, Yelena had seen rip the
beating heart out of a girl no hesitation) was now laying her head on Damian's chest sleepily
where that beating organ lay undisturbed.

Though their backs were to her and Jon, Yelena did not need to see their faces to see the
relaxation radiating from them.

As soon as morning had rolled around, those two had made it to the kitchen like it was the
most normal thing in the world. They'd asked GIL to play songs from a joint playlist they
both seemed to favor, a mix of classical pieces and upbeat tracks that made the air in the
apartment seem almost cozier.

The two of them moved with purpose around the space, taking out pots and pans for cooking,
which Yelena had assumed neither of them knew how to do until now. But they did, helping
one another with fetching ingredients, chopping fruits and vegetables with the skill of
assassins with a blade but all to the beat of a relaxing song.

It was almost like they'd forgotten she and Jon were there as they got lost in their little world,
one which they had likely not let anyone witness before today.

Yelena still wasn't one to linger on emotions too much, but the sight of her sister's smiles
tugged at her heartstrings a bit.
It was like those two had figured life out, like they had lived here as allies all their lives.
There was no weariness between them, only trust.

Boy...there was something beautiful about that, worth more than any money dad may have in
his bank account, far greater than whatever fears Ivan still held the girls captive by.

Damian must've been truly lost in the moment for a bit, or perhaps he thought Yelena was
equally as sleepy as Jon, because the blonde had noticed his faint smile when Brook gave
him a kiss on his arm as they flipped pancakes like it was a game.

That truly wasn't he same boy Yelena had met when she was a kid, not the ruthless heir that
had beheaded three Red Room members for speaking without his grandfather's permission.

She'd also noted the drawings on the fridge by their side, drawings not made by Brooklyn but
signed by someone named Cassie. Cassie Lang perhaps? They displayed a stick figure with
red hair and a taller one with short black tendrils. Between them was a little girl with brown
hair, a dog beside her, and little poorly drawn hearts all over the place.

Such a peculiar drawing seemed to fit along with the photos of their group at school, of
others with the Avengers. It made the kitchen seemed lived in, appreciated and loved.

Yelena wondered just how much of this part of her life Brooklyn would let others close to her
see as the blonde beheld her sister talking to that robot baby of hers, letting the heir of the
League read passages of war books to it as they cooked food that surprisingly smelled divine.

Maybe no one aside from her and Jon would ever realize that warm black turtle neck her
sister wore belonged to a Wayne, that the two of them had predetermined mismatched coffee
cups assigned to themselves, or that they secretly hummed a morning melody as one in the
safety of these private walls.

Yelena couldn't help but think it was such a shame.

If mom and dad ever saw just how happy Brooklyn as like this, it would seem like all their
best wishes had come true. Natasha might even smile at the sight of the Red Room's shadow
so far from their sestra.

But Yelena understood the need for privacy, yet found herself sending a silent thanks to Mr.
Kent for unknowingly giving her this chance to see another side of her new sister, one that
wasn't the fierce Firestar, the popular Brooklyn Stark from school, the determined agent of
SHIELD, the world's prized Princess of New York, or the hard working future heiress of
Stark Industries.

This wasn't the playful Brooklyn from home, or the caring Brook amongst their team either.

Is this what her sister had meant when she said that when they were together, those two could
just be Brooklyn and Damian. The rawest, truest, versions of themselves.

Smiling at the waking Jon, Yelena couldn't help but look forward to the day she and the
kryptonian worked their way to that gift of happiness. It was more than she deserved thanks
to her past, but it would be a gift she would not take for granted or put to waste.

The first thing the Kent did after coming back to the world of the awoken was shoot a bright
smile her way, whispering a quick good morning along with a kiss to her palm. Yelena had
smiled in return, unable to voice the feelings such a simple greeting created.

Jon then turned to the kitchen, shouting his own good mornings to the two (now working
separately) teens as he made his way over to them. Yelena watched with Seyg comfortably
asleep in her arms as Jon placed an arm around each of them, complaining over the pain in
his head.

"I've made coffee to help" Brook said, pointing to the coffee pot that was just about ready to
bring them all a shot of life.

Jon had beamed at the smell of roasted coffee grounds, cheekily saying to Brook, "You better
make Damian's coffee so dark the spoon melts" clearly meant as a joke of the Wayne's
serious attitude.

Damian still refrained from showing affection to Brook in front of Jon, yet glared at the close
distance between Jon and Brooklyn until the kryptonian backed away a few steps. It almost
made Yelena want to laugh, even if another part of her was eased the Wayne was protective
of her sister. Perhaps he truly wasn't the worst boyfriend in the world.

Brook had simply rolled her eyes, but added with a bit of mirth of her own, "Actually, he
doesn't take it black. He likes hazelnut and a spoonful of sugar"

Jon's eyes went wide, but Damian's deepening glare kept him from voicing his shock at the
fact that the big bad Damian Wayne could enjoy something as sweet as sugar.

But Yelena knew Jon had made some observations of his own yesterday to keep the shock of
sestra knowing his friend well to over power him.

While the two had been sitting in the living room last night, before the alcohol had been
introduced, Jon had pointed out to her privately that he noticed many traces of Damian in this
home, bits and pieces of his friend that made the space all the more special.

Things Jon had never noticed despite their visits here after patrols.

The piece of art on the wall by Yelena's side apparently seemed like something Damian
would paint. The toys with scorch marks by the fireplace, Jon believed those belonged to a
pet Damian kept around.

When Jon and Yelena were about to switch baby duty last night, he'd even pointed out the
generous amount clothes belonging to his friend in the spare room, even the bathroom
essentials in the adjoining washroom had been little bits of Damian that showed the
magnitude of just how much his friend cared.

Jon had admitted sleepily that even Damian's own room at the Wayne Manor did not have
much of him around it since it was rather plain. But this place, it had growth from Brooklyn,
but also Damian as well.

It made Yelena happy, because she knew her sister second guessed everything she did in life,
that even when she had the Avengers and their family close to her heart, doubts remained,
threaded with fears. But perhaps not so much here.

Jon had always expressed he firmly believed in destiny, and Yelena had only thought such a
notion impossible until today. Because there was no way two teens who were supposed to be
on opposite sides in every instance of their life found a way to be so similar and perfect
together. It was like Brooklyn and Damian were both sides of the same coin, and together,
Yelena was willing to bet they were an unstoppable force.

Yelena looked at the three people in that kitchen, individuals she cared for...and she couldn't
help but thing that perhaps Brook and Damian finding one another wasn't the only bit of
destiny they had stumbled upon.

Perhaps all of them being a team was a bit of destiny as well.

As the morning tunes flowed around the apartment, Yelena was reminded about how music
had become a comfort for her these days, a hobby she'd found to favor thanks to mom and
her constant music recommendations.

Looking at those three, whispering in that kitchen over plate arrangements, it sent dozens of
songs blasting in Yelena's head.

She found music in a lot of things now, liked it so much because the songs were made by
people who believed in good, in love, from individuals that had not seen an ounce of blood
spilled in their lives and simply let their voices carry a beauty Yelena had been deprived of
hearing growing up.

What was funny was that most of the songs Yelena heard when looking at Brook and Damian
were not about love, but some about strength, others about the feelings of peaceful meadows,
some of heroes against evil....but there were a few with lyrics of finding love in the dark, of
forbidden kisses behind closed doors, and of two souls beating as one.

Perhaps her view of their destiny wasn't that those two were meant to like one another since
Yelena was not really a romantic, but she knew that they were meant to stand together no
matter what side they were born on. She let herself believe in something like that for once.

The thought was almost as beautiful as the cup of steaming hot coffee and the plate of warm
blueberry pancakes Jon brought her.

It was a blissful morning, like the sight of the four teens sitting down to have a wonderful
breakfast as snow fell outside, a single flick of Brook's finger bringing warmth from the
fireplace nearby to keep them comfortable.

Jon had been astounded Damian could cook, expressed said thought with every bite of food
that drove him further and further away from that nasty hangover of his. Damian had chosen
to sit by Brook's side, seeming confident as he explained he was good at everything, that of
course he could do something as simple as cook. Their playful bickering only stopped when
Yelena's phone rang with the request of a video call from none other than dad.

In a manner of seconds, Brook and Jon traded seats, and Yelena made sure the other side of
the table would not be seen as she answered the call.

The two boys seemed nervous as Tony Stark shouted his greetings. He too was eating
breakfast, and everyone from the Avengers and Yelena's family said hello at least once since
the call began.

Turned out, dad just wanted to make sure all was well, but also had to tell Yelena Happy
would be around in about two hours to pick her and Brook up for their weekend at the
compound.

All was going well until dad made a seemingly harmless joke.

"You better not have any boys over, girls!" he said, face stern until he broke out into laugher,
"Just kidding I know you two aren't like that!"

Damian and Jon froze mid-bite of their pancakes at the words, and Brook and Yelena had to
fake some amused laughs of their own to keep themselves from freaking out. Its not like they
had done anything bad, other than given alcohol to a kryptonian and kept a Wayne under the
same roof as them for the night.

Dad had thankfully stayed from that joke, ended the call with a few quick jokes about
Brooklyn only landing a date with a boy soon thanks to him.

"A date!?" Brook and Yelena asked incredulously, eye brows raised as the Avengers chuckled
on the other side of the screen. Well, all but mom, Nat, Clint, and Steve ( the only polite ones
in the room) seemed amused when dad mentioned Brooklyn and Peter would have the most
amazing time at the opera on their first date next week.

As Brooklyn tried to reassured dad said future outing was most definitely not a date, Yelena
could've sworn Damian was folding his fork with little more than his human strength. Jon
was just trying not to laugh nervously.

It was after the call that Yelena admitted to her sister (and the table) that she'd heard some
Avengers say that they thought Brook and Peter would be a good pair. It had seemed like
mindless gossip at the time, started by Uncle Sam and Uncle Scott at training sometimes.

The only thing that stopped Damian from rushing down the hall to likely question Peter on
his emotions or intentions was the fact that they all knew just how much the Parker boy liked
MJ.

They could do nothing about dad seeing that outing as a date without revealing the place
where Brooklyn's heart truly lay, something everyone at the table grew to accept, but what
they could do for the two hours remaining was start on the other bit of troubling information
they'd pushed aside for long enough.
They'd let last night be a time to just be teenagers, but they were also heroes too.

Instead of lingering over the silly thoughts of others, even if Brook and Damian did seem a
bit troubled by them, they moved aside the dishes after breakfast, and immediately got to
work on how they'd properly spy on one of the most influential men in the country.

Lex Luthor.
 The Odd Visitor
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Cassandra Cain (Wayne) POV-

It was mid afternoon when Cass found herself walking inside the grandfather clock that led
towards the Batcave.

It wasn't often that the grand mansion of secrets and boisterous energy would find itself
relatively empty. Cass had originally though such a rare occasion would make the house more
peaceful, relaxing enough to settle down in the library and read a book undisturbed.

She'd been wrong.

It had been a long time since she'd been alone, not since her days in the League when
meditation exercises could mean a day without seeing a single soul, back then, even her own
voice had been an absent presence to make the loneliness bearable.

Cassandra found that the echoing silence of the Manor today was nothing of comfort, if
anything, she felt the absence of her family like a pestering weight on her shoulders.

Perhaps that is why she had decided to go down for some training, hoping Batcow's presence
was enough to ease the void that only served to remind Cass of times past when it wasn't
herself who determined her destiny, but Ra's al Ghul.

It didn't take long to start up a battle simulation, and with each fallen hologram plastered with
the digital face of enemies past, Cassandra felt some of that weight of loneliness vanish with
each swipe of her twin swords.

As expected, Batcow had come to watch what all the noise was about, settling on the
sidelines of the training space to watch with little care. Perhaps he was waiting for his master
to show up, something that would not happen for quite some time considering where Damian
was.

With each fallen hologram, Cass couldn't keep her mind from wondering how everyone was
doing. Worry was a strange thing. Damian was no doubt having a hard time getting Titus
inside the vet clinic, likely having to wrestle the large dog in there as Alfred the Cat watched
uncaringly.

Such trips to the vet were not often, but normally, someone like Dicky or Steph offered to
help the young heir. Unfortunately, Dick had been called over to the Titan's tower for some
urgent emergency. Cass had only heard BeastBoy chattering about how Starfire wasn't feeling
well, something Cass hoped would be resolved considering her opinion on the alien princess
was quite high.
Shortly after Dick had rushed out, Stephanie and Tim had mentioned something about going
to catch a few movies. Casandra knew Steph had been dying to see a heavily advertised film
of Batman and his 'sidekicks'. Everyone else in the manor had cringed when they first got
word of it, but Stephanie thought it might be fun to see what the actors portraying them as
would do with the roles.

Tim's boyfriend duties meant he had to go as well, poor guy.

Briefly eyeing the monitors to her left, Cass was able to see a beeping red dot moving across
the city, said tracked individual being Jason, who was the only one of Bruce's children who
still had a tracker on him due to his...excitement to do things his way.

Perhaps it was a good thing no one else had those trackers anymore, otherwise Bruce
might've already known how often some of his kids took to disturbing Damian's privacy.

If said trackers still existed, Cass knew she'd see a single dot on the west side of the city near
the Wayne Botanical Gardens, the place where Barbara and Alfred were currently attending
monthly therapy for her paralysis.

Bruce was not idiotic enough to put a tracker on Alfred of course.

After taking down a few holograms with owl masks, Cassandra embedded her swords on the
floor, taking a swing of water while she examined her phone. There was only a message from
Bruce himself, who was asking if Casandra needed anything from the shopping district since
he and Seli-, no, since he and umi where there to purchase more baby supplies in an effort to
calm their ever growing nerves.

Selina was more a mother than Lady Shiva ever was. That woman had shown up to Gotham a
few years back, promising further assassin training only one of the deadliest assassins like
herself could offer. Not long after, she'd demanded they dueled to the death, and Cassandra
had won her first battle without taking a life.

Lady Shiva was likely still licking her wounds, if she hadn't died from them that was.

Selina was no saint of course, she was Catwoman. Only the woman rarely acted as such in
front of Cass. Selina often bought her books, shared her opinions, not to mention Mrs. Wayne
never asked Cass to kill, hurt, or torture...all the woman seemed to care about was
Cassandra's happiness.

Maybe it was the memories of the past that suddenly set Cass on edge, because as soon as she
heard an odd noise behind her, the woman quickly got hold of her swords and pivoted back to
see her attacker...only to see no one there.

All that was there was...growing dust particles? It almost looked like the air was moving and
swirling.

Cass quickly reached for a nearby domino mask to hide her identity, unsure what was
happening until little streaks of lighting shot out from the warping air.
Batcow, as if sensing something was going completely wrong, did not waste one more second
until he disappeared down the Batcave, but Cass still held her ground as the thin lighting
grew in quantity, as the light coming from said phenomenon increased in an almost familiar
display.

Cass had no time to ponder on that familiarity as a shockwave of air sent her sliding back
towards the monitors.

It was seconds later that she beheld smoke and lightning coming from the center of the
training area.

No one was supposed to know of this place...no one but her family, and even Cass knew that
as far as pranks went in this home, they were never this elaborate...and more importantly,
pranks were never directed at her.

She was ready to attack as the mist faded little by little, and she didn't dare drop her weapons,
even when she saw the emerging figure was nothing more than a young child. Cass had
grown up around enough deadly infants to dare put her weapons down, if anything, she got
ready to pounce as the small black haired boy turned around with wide eyes as he beheld her.

Cassandra took no longer than five seconds to note everything about the intruder.

Young, likely just a teen based on his height. The boy had ink black hair that fell lazily above
his shoulders, and it seemed to be natural rather than dyed. His eyes were obscured by black
shades, and though there were no weapons he seemed to carry in his black pants, the young
boy's attire WAS rather odd.

His tee-shirt was of decent quality, unstained or damaged by the lighting, but it had an odd
design in its middle. Amidst the black fabric were patterned gems of various colors. Blue,
yellow, red, purple, green and orange. Below them were a few words that simply said, New
York Museum of History and War.

Cassandra knew for a fact New York possessed no museum named as such, otherwise, she
would've already gone to it.

Then there were the shoes. Not many people knew this about Jason, but he was an enthusiast
when it came to sneakers, and Cass knew her brother was always wearing the latest models to
know Nike had not released whatever shoes the kid was wearing. The shoes were clear,
displaying the white socks within, and it seemed the shoes carried no laces but somehow
sealed in place by some technology Cass had not yet witnessed.

The young child raised a quizzical brow, turning around as if he were looking for something.
Cass noted the kid was not surprised by the Batcave, as if he were already familiar with it and
his thoughts were somewhere else.

Eventually, the kid turned back to face her, gaze locked onto the weapons in her hands as he
said, "Where did everyone go? What happened?"
His accent was American. Voice sweet and gentle, genuinely confused. Dare she say...it was
almost like he recognized her...

Cass remained silent, not just to intimidate the intruder, but because she truly had no clue
what to say.

The boy laughed at the pointed weapons his way, "Really Aunt Cass? Now is not time for
training! Where did everyone go, I swear we weren't messing around too much!"

Aunt...aunt Cass...Aunt Cass!?

How did this intruder know who she was, enough so at least to call her by that name
and....what in Lazarus' name was going on...

Cass steeler her nerves, choosing to lower her weapons slightly in an effort to make the child
cooperate as she dared ask, "Who are you boy?"

The kid laughed, actually laughed hard enough that he collapsed on the ground, holding his
stomach with tears streaming down his cheeks as his sounds of mirth echoed along the space
of the massive cave.

It wasn't until seconds later that the boy pulled himself together enough to say, "I can't
believe you're in the mood for jokes, mimi! What's got you so happy all of the sudden?"

Cass frowned, setting down her weapons at last, removing the domino mask, then she
carefully walked towards the boy who's brows raised again as he said, "I know mom said I'm
not supposed to tell women they look old, but what did you do to your face? You look
younger, mimi!"

The woman stopped to consider the terrifying implications of those words.

To this boy, Cassandra looked younger. He seemed to know of the Batcave, had not even
balked at the domino masks the Robins of Gotham were famous for.

He was not surprised by his location...but rather lack of people. His shirt was of a place Cass
had never heard of...and that yellow lightning was familiar because....because Barry Allen
possessed it.

A speedster...is that what this kid was? Cassandra had once heard Bruce say that the Flash's
powers of speed could go beyond just moving faster than the sound barrier. In theory, Mr.
Allen could run fast enough to do powerful things, like travel through Tim's theory of the
'Cosmic Treadmill'.

Casandra was no scientist, but her education growing up had been thorough enough that she
understood such a theory meant the Flash could pierce the time barrier and travel either to the
past or to the future if he gathered enough speed. Essentially, he could move fast enough to
not only slow down time, but to travel through by changing the vibrations of his body.

It was something Cass had never bothered to contemplate the way Bruce and Tim had.
Careful to conceal her confusion, Cass dared to ask, "Are you a speedster?"

The boy's joy finally halted, he seemed to look around the cave more carefully now...and as
seconds passed, the boy seemed more anxious, muttering about things not being in the right
place, about others being missing.

With wide eyes, the boy cursed over and over until his panic grew as he beheld Cass.

"Sorry mimi! I didn't mean to curse its just that..." his panic at her blank stare diminished
slightly as he added, "wait a second...it doesn't matter that I cursed because you have no clue
who I am!"

Time travel....great. Perfect day to be left alone in the house.

Cass wasn't exactly sure if this kind of chaos was worthy of disrupting Bruce's day off, weird
things happened so often that the woman had stopped being mind-boggled for too long when
the impossible showed its face.

Instead of freaking out or locking the kid up in a cell, Cass tried to sound gentle as she asked,
"You called me your aunt, called me by my name too. What is yours?"

The boy leaned against a nearby table, hand running through his silky hair nervously.

"Um...what year is it?" he asked nervously.

"It's February of 2017. Tell me your name" she replied, causing the boy to curse under his
breath, this time though, he did not offer an apology for such foul language.

The boy seemed to do a mental count in his head, then after debating an answer, he seemed to
slouch in defeat as he stated, "You have no idea how weird this feels, introducing myself to
you, but my name is Mar....well, Marcellus but no one calls me that. You're my aunt in the
future...far into my future"

Did that mean Barbara or Stephanie had somehow ended up with Barry Allen in the future?
Gross.

Cass processed the information, and despite the million questions in her head she settled for
asking, "How did you get here?"

The boy smiled sheepishly, "Funny story..."

Cass shot the nervous kid a silent glare, one which succeeded in making the kid spill his
secrets.

"Its not my fault I swear! You can't tell dad! Don and I were just messing around with his
speed for a bit and he was running laps around me...next thing I know, I'm here! God, mom
and dad are going to kill me if they find out I came to the past!"

Cassandra did not not anyone named Don, but the fact that this kid mentioned his dad as if
she should know him...it just made her think back to the aunt thing.
She'd seen her kinder older sibling conduct enough interrogations on weary subjects to decide
not to press further for now. Instead, Cass silently guided the boy upstairs, offering some
food in the assumption he was hungry.

Marcellus seemed to relax at that, did not seem lost as they made their way up the elevator
and out of the grandfather clock towards the kitchen.

The boy seemed mesmerized by changes in the halls, anything from 'outdated furniture', to
lack of technological advances the manor seemed to have in the future. Even some of the
carpets were wrong in his eyes.

Cass had not bothered to cook when that was a skill she did not posses. Instead, she grabbed
Tim's leftovers from lunch as gave them to the smiling kid who was too busy laughing at the
flat screen TV propped on the wall.

She let him settle down and relax, bid her time as he eat his sandwich while playing with the
controls of the TV. It was once his belly was full and his worries seemed to be nothing but a
lingering shadow that she dared ask, "Marcellus, who exactly are your parents? Do you want
me to call your younger father?"

The boy shook his head.

"You can't call my dad! Don said traveling in time was dangerous, that you can't be seen by
too many people in case you risk changing events of the past! The last people we need right
now are mom and dad!" Marcellus said, eyes pleading.

Cass merely nodded, already expecting that answer, so she asked, "Then you should tell me
who your parents are so we don't run into them. You're in luck since everyone is out of the
Manor today, but they will return soon enough. That is the only way I can hide you properly
until we find a way to send you back"

The boy nodded in understanding.

He nervously took off his shades, revealing a set of blue eyes set in worry as he leaned over
his kitchen stool to whisper, "Dad's name is Richard, mama's name is Koriand'r. Are they
even together yet?"

Cassandra fought the urge to smile at the fact that Dick had a kid, that she was an aunt, that
Bruce would one day be a grandfather to such a boisterous kid with freckles and blushed pale
skin.

Now that she looked at Marcellus, he did have Dick's eyes and skin tone. As for Kori...it was
subtle, but the whites of the boy's eyes were not so, they were a fain green...an indication of
Starfire's alien heritage.

Dick actually had a kid...unbelievable.

"Your parents are already married" Cass clarified, "They have been for two years"
The boy smiled, such an innocent thing that Cassandra was not entirely sure what to do with
him when he beamed at the information.

"Since it's 2017 and I'm not born, that means Don isn't born yet either...his dad likely doesn't
know how to time travel yet so thats a bust" the boy mused brining the straw of his chocolate
milk to his lips as he pondered, "What about Alfie?"

At her raised brow, the boy motioned to the kitchen, "Great Gramps Alfie! If I'm going to be
stuck here until Don finds his way to me, I want him to cook me my favorite breakfast"

Did he mean Alfred?

Cass explained that everyone was currently busy doing one thing or another, that the best
they could so was sit tight so they wouldn't risk going out to find everyone and possibly
changing time in the process.

The boy was kind and obedient, he merely nodded before summersaulting to the kitchen table
in a very Grayson-like manner. The boy watched the TV sparingly in an effort to recall
anything important that would happen this year, which to him was nothing but history.

It was an effort to figure out why he had been brought back to this specific time in the past,
but unfortunately, the teen knew little about how speedster abilities worked anyways.

In his confusion, Marcellus asked about things he was curious about, and Cass decided there
was little harm in talking to the boy anyways.

Has Uncle Timmy married yet? ....Tim Drake? No.

Have there been any invading aliens yet?...Yes, New York around six years ago.

The boy had frowned at that particular knowledge.

How many pets does Uncle Damian have right now? ... He lets you call him Uncle? Four.

Is anyone else aside from my dad even married amongst my aunts and uncles?....No.

The innocent questions had died out soon enough, Marcellus seemed to grow bolder as his
inquiries shifted towards things he shouldn't share with a woman of her intelligence and
deductive skills.

The blue eyed boy had shifted this behavior when he turned to the TV just as a Chanel
commercial with the young Stark appeared.

The boy smiled brightly, standing from the table as he pointed excitedly at the screen, "Look!
Wow, Brooklyn hasn't aged at all, I didn't know she used to model! I can't wait to tell Morgan
when I visit her, good thing I have a sleepover soon "

Cass has set down her glass of water wearily, realizing that Marcellus was a Wayne...and he
talked about the Stark as if she were not a family enemy, as if he knew her well.
"You know Brooklyn? Who is Morgan?" she dared ask, wondering...if not hoping...that
another one of his siblings had found a happy future as well.

Marcellus smirked, "Morgan is Brooklyn's younger sister of course! Duh! She and I are good
friends"

So much for Wayne-Stark family rivalry... Bruce would be devastated.

"The Stark only has an adopted brother...and I suppose a new sister but not one named
Morgan" Cass mentioned.

The boy seemed deep in thought, as if debating what to say or share, but eventually settled
for a smug smirk as he mentioned, "Brooklyn has a lot of siblings in the future, Morgan is
youngest so I guess she's not born yet. I have younger siblings too you know!"

Cassandra felt the foreign urge to smile, even more so to call and tell Dick all this. Said
amusement only faded into delicate fondness as the boy spoke of having a younger sibling
named Alfred. He mentioned said Alfred loved to play with...other children Cass would meet
in the future.

Once the commercial was over, the boy still had a fond smile on his face, and just because
she'd learned a Wayne and Stark were friends in the future, she asked the boy if he had other
friends aside from this so called Morgan and Don.

With joy that was so similar to Dick's, the young child nodded, "I'm mostly friends with my
cousins, but Don, his sister Dawn, and Morgan are exceptions. I grew up with family, and it's
better to be friends with them so I don't have to keep secrets. Jack and Janet are close
siblings, but they come play with me sometimes. I mostly hang out with the people I train
with though"

Cass then noticed the boy had small callouses on his hands, barely anything worth noting, but
backing-up his claim that he WAS training.

"What do you mean train?" she asked.

"Well, one day I want to be the next Nightwing since dad is thinking of taking over as
Batman. I was going to become a hero and go by the name of Nightstar...but I want to be just
like dad when I grow up" the boy said like it was nothing.

Cass could not imagine a day when Bruce was not Batman. Her siblings had covered for
Bruce one or twice, but never assumed the mantle permanently. What did the future have in
store for them? She was too cowardly to ask....

"What of the others you train with?" she asked, if only to move away from that dreadful
subject.

The boy chuckled, "Well, Jamie wanted to be in the police when he was older so he's training
for that...you're actually helping him. Then there is Anastasia, she practices with me even
when she is still little. Howi is younger than her, but Uncle Damian is actually training him to
be the next Robin because he's already better than me or Don. Even Aunt Helena trains with
us! Don't worry mimi, you get along with all of them in the future, even Fanny and Joseph!"

Cass cataloged all the foreign names, wondering if and when they might be useful.

She refrained from asking any questions about herself or her future, Cass supposed knowing
she was alive years from now was a relief...unless Marcellus coming here messed up
whatever future he lived in.

It wasn't until the news came up with some useless inquiry about the unknown whereabouts
of the Joker (a common news point) that the boy's eyes lit up.

"That's it! That must be why I'm here!" he said excitedly, a fact that only dimmed as he stared
at the mug shots of the clown on the flat screen.

"What does this have to do with him?" Cass asked.

The boy was weary, fiddling with his thumbs as he opened and closed his mouth, debating his
words carefully. As if he could not longer bare her stare, he moved back to the table, leaned
in close and whispered like a dark omen, "Don and I were talking about...something that
happened with the Joker. Uncle Damian and Uncle Jon were talking about it last night, it was
about something the Joker is going to do...I don't think it has happened yet"

Marcellus did not have to add that the 'something' he was referring to was not good at all, and
despite her extensive training and hard exterior, Cassandra shivered at the words.

There were too many people the boy had not mentioned, and Cass couldn't help but fear the
worst for their futures, especially when the Joker was concerned. Marcellus had likely not
mentioned everyone he knew of course...

That question still lingered in Cass's mind long after Marcellus had been returned to his
timeline.

A vortex had opened up in the kitchen a few hours later, much like the one from before down
in the batcave. From it emerged two figures, a tall lanky man that resembled an older Barry
Allen, and a young boy by his side that looked far too sheepish about his mistake.

The boy had been the so called Don...Don Allen.

The man had let the two teens hug, then scolded them senseless about being more careful
with their abilities, implying Marcellus had powers of his own, likely from his mother. He'd
seemed surprised by Cass' quietness, but apologized for the trouble after asking who else had
seen Mar.

Cass had decided to ease the man by swearing this appearance would remain her secret, if
only to preserve whatever goodness came from their future. With that, the man had taken
both kids home, and when everyone had returned from their own daily activities, Cass had
kept her mouth quiet about what had happened.
 Looking at Dick had been quite the struggle, there was so much she wanted to tell him but
could not...

Bruce and Selina had decided to go to bed early that night, and while she and her siblings
were getting ready for a group patrol, Dick had pulled them to the Batcave, his eyes frantic
and excited, ignoring Steph's inquiries on Starfire's health.

Cass was not surprised in the least when Dick revealed his news.

Starfire was pregnant.

As Barbara, Stephanie, Tim, and even Jason showered Dick with claps on the back and
embraces, Cassandra stood there, smiling at the area in the training grounds where a certain
Marcellus Grayson-Wayne had appeared.

Everyone (but Damian who pretended he didn't care for the news but had still nodded in
understanding) was talking about how excited they were to meet their sibling's child.
Cassandra said nothing, but was happy to know she already had...and Mar was going to be
great.

She tucked away those other names of the future in her heart, hoping that one day more joy
like this would blossom into other's lives.

Chapter End Notes

Wonder how this will be relevant....

I decided to name this kid after the canonical daughter of Dick and Starfire, Mar'i
Grayson. I didn't want this child to just be the same from the comics considering I'm not
going in the direction of the alternate future timeline of Kingdom Come. In know in the
New Order, they have a son named Jake, but seeing as though I also don't wish to go too
deep into that timeline either I chose to switch things a bit to prevent confusion.

This chapter might seem a little weird, but it had purpose, I promise.
 The Opera
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Brooklyn POV-

Brook was running around the living room trying to find her purse, ignoring dad's laugher
from the TV at her hurried pace. She almost wished she could throw something at him.

He'd called minutes ago to 'have a talk' before she left to Kings Theater with Peter.

Though she hadn't been dreading hanging out with Pete, she had been concerned with the fact
that dad still seemed to think this was a date of sorts, which was only made more clear by his
teasing all week and his call just now.

Dad thought Brook was rushing to get ready now because she was nervous, in reality, she'd
been stuck in a video call with her team as they debated the merits in sneaking in to LexCorp
towers at night. She'd had very little time to don a black cocktail dress and some elegant
matching heels she'd received as a gift from some brand or another. She'd had even less time
to find acceptable jewelry and do her make up in case there would be a fair amount of people
there.

Being a Stark meant she had to care about her public image after all.

It's not like Brook could confess to be dating Damian, so all she could do was listen as dad
explained that hand holding was acceptable, anything beyond that was banned until she was
thirty years old.

Once she found the small purse she'd been looking for behind the couch (the one stashed with
enough cash and weapons), Brook brushed back her loose hair so she could properly glare at
her dad.

"If you didn't want me going out with a guy, you shouldn't have set it up!"

Dad chuckled, ignoring mom's distant hums of agreement to her words as he explained, "I
may be a bit protective, but I do want you to be happy Daphne. Luckily for you Peter is one
of the few boys I trust. Still, know I don't want any Stark-Parker babies roaming around the
compound anytime soon with their wall climbing and fire throwing! I will kill Parker if he
lays a hand on you, but if he does, please use condoms"

There was something deeply wrong with that statement...multiple somethings actually. God,
she wouldn't ever dream of being like that with Pete. What was dad thinking!?

Brooklyn felt like collapsing on the couch, instead only groaned at her dad's words, trying not
to blush with frustration and embarrassment especially because she knew mom, Harley, and
Yelena were in dad's office as well.
"Dad, Peter is one of my best friends, and this outing was your idea! Don't make it weird.
Plus, I'm not a hormonal teen to warrant such a talk" she said, even when her making out
with Damian a few days ago would suggest otherwise.

Yelena's singular distant chuckle was likely thanks to thinking of that same moment.

Suka. Bitch.

Luckily, Damian was not angry about the opera day, though he had glared at Peter quite a bit
at school today, more so than usual. Nor did he find it amusing like Yelena.

She and Dami had spoken of this upcoming day for some time now, in which she assured him
this was not a date by any means and in turn, he said he trusted her above everyone else so of
course he knew it was not a date.

This was just an unfortunate circumstance of the secret they kept, they both understood that.

Still, she'd promised to call when she got home to tell him all about her first time going to an
opera, which Damian had assured her was only a mildly boring experience. A part of her just
hoped it would be Damian sharing that experience with her, but having her friend go along
was not too bad either...

Mom took dad's moment of laugher to show herself on the screen. She looked worried for a
bit, only to smile at the sight of Brook.

"You look beautiful sweetheart, just go and have fun, I'll make sure Tony and the others don't
go snooping in on your day like I bet they want to do. Just enjoy a day with your friend
without worrying about anything else" mom said, making Brook sigh in relief at Pepper's
understanding that this was NOT a date.

Yelena stepped into the camera's view briefly to show a thumbs up, not at the outfit or in
encouragement, but a silent sign that she and the team would continue brainstorming ways to
spy on Lex Luthor while she and Peter were unable to join.

That's when a knock came at the door, faint, shy, and so familiarly Peter.

Brook didn't even let dad get out a mocking shout as she quickly hung up the call and just
before opening the door, she hesitated only for a few seconds to send out a simple text to
Damian.

Two hearts, each with a little knife to protect one another.

When she finally opened up the front door, Brooklyn was met with quite a rare sight.

Peter stood there with a bright smile, that same tuxedo he seemed to take everywhere despite
dad's offers to buy him new ones, and a handful of garden flowers in hand.

"Hey Brook!" Peter said, handing over the cluster of colorful flowers, "Um, May told me to
get you these and tell you to take a coat since its gonna snow later. Ready to go?"
Brooklyn breathed out a sigh of relief at the fact that Peter wasn't acting any differently than
usual. The few times the two of them had spoken of this outing, Pete had only expressed his
happiness at getting to spend some time alone with her, something the two rarely got to do
now a days.

It would be like the first days Brooklyn stayed in Queens, when the two would go to Delmar's
after school, or when they used to tackle patrols when the Dynasty consisted of only the two
of them.

A part of Brook was glad they had managed to figure out they did not see one another as
more than friends, that Peter cherished MJ the way Brooklyn did Damian.

Right now, she'd get the chance to spend an afternoon with one of her most adored friends,
one who never made hanging out dull. Of that she was glad for.

After placing the flowers in a nearby vase by the door, Brooklyn couldn't help but smile at
Peter.

"Please don't tell me my dad called you too, acting like this was a date"

The brown haired boy nervously rubbed the back of his neck, "Mr. Stark might've called to
help me figure out how to fix my tie...then proceeded to talk about other things. Just so you
know, I need to have you back home by midnight or you might have to fish out my dead body
from the Hudson River"

Brooklyn and Peter burst into laughter at the words, and their jokes and easy conversation
continued to flow as the driverless car ( one dad sent for the occasion since they refused to be
driven by him or Happy) took them all the way to Flatbush Ave to the already bustling Kings
Theatre.

Thanks to dad's unnecessarily expensive reservation, the black Tesla was able to head away
from all the chaos to drop the pair off in the parking lot under the building, a perk reserved
for the famous who wished to come without being bothered too much.

There was a worker in a suit by the elevator waiting for them, who had bowed politely at
'Miss Stark' and 'Mr. Parker' before leading them to the private booth that took up quite a
section of the left side of the theatre.

It was high enough that no one from the seats bellow would see, and the booth itself was not
just extremely elegant with its rich carpeted floors and golden chairs, but it was spacious
enough that it had quite a few areas to see the opera below as well as a bar and a more
comfortable lounge away from the huge balcony.

Both Peter and Brook had tried not to gawk too much as they were guided to their seats, but
the sight of elegant cut up cheeses, sparkling beverages, and rich cuts of meat on the table
beside them made Peter whisper, "I think your dad doesn't understand that friends don't need
all this to hang out"

Brook could only nod as she stuffed a bit of creamy cheese into her mouth.
It took quite a while, but the theatre below began to fill up with hundreds of elegantly dressed
individuals as a band began to play a relaxing tune while props were being set up on stage.

It made sense that so many would show to this event since it was the opening night of a
famous opera play. Brooklyn and Peter were not well versed in operas themselves, but a
quick Google search in the car had revealed that Das Liebesverbot was amongst the most
famous productions in the world at the moment.

It was a tale of forbidden love while doubling as a comedy of sorts.

If the large crowds were anything to go by, Brook would say she was in for a treat, especially
since the large booth they were in seemed so expensive no one else could possibly afford it,
meaning they'd be able to relax and be themsel-

Brooklyn's train of thought halted harshly as the double doors behind her opened, not with a
worker offering up yet another commodity, but to reveal a couple who would take the seats
beside Brook...and that couple was none other than the last people she would've expected to
see.

Mr. and Mrs. Wayne stepped into the large booth with an air of royalty, arm in arm with
content expressions on their faces. Or that had been until Mr. Wayne locked eyes with her.

That quickly, the man's mood changed into that same scowl he seemed to carry like a prized
possession. Fortunately, the Batman of Gotham was able to do absolutely nothing as various
workers stepped in to help them to their seats, bring food, and make special accommodations
for Mrs. Wayne due to her pregnancy.

Peter had clearly noticed who now sat beside them, an arm distance away from Brook to be
exact, because he gently nudged her arm for an explanation. One she did not have.

Since Pete was further away from sight of the glaring man and the shocked woman, it was
him that texted Damian for an explanation. Apparently, Dami had known his parents would
be going out for 'date night', but even he'd never suspected them to go all the way to Queens
for that.

It wasn't until all the workers left, some looking rather horrified at the sight of Waynes and a
Stark in the same place before rushing out of the spacious booth, that the air of tension was
acknowledged.

Mr. Wayne was the first to speak, sounding displeased and perhaps even slightly disgusted as
he addressed Brook at last.

"Miss Stark, what an unexpected surprise"

Brooklyn thought she might be a little less eager to pick a fight with Damian's father now that
she was dating this man's son. But it was taking a surprising amount of self restraint just to
stay in her seat.
It wasn't just from the natural need to beat the shit out of this man, but she wanted to get out
of her chair to leave this place entirely. Brook knew Bruce Wayne hated her for being a Stark
alone, that them being business rivals meant less than her last name did.

Brooklyn didn't give a shit about Bruce Wayne, she wanted to flee this room because was
Batman, the master detective.

In a fight, she might be able to survive with her Red Room skills alone since Bruce trained
with the League. It was not his skills that made her wary of the oversized vampire, it was the
fact that this man was known to figure things out about his enemies, being able to solve
mysteries with ease, even without great technology by his side.

What if during a simple conversation, the man beside her found out she was dating Damian?
What if he figured it out and chose to take him away?

The Red Room had been very thorough in training its girls to keep secrets to themselves, to
withstand all kinds of torture imaginable. The thing was, Brooklyn was pretty sure Bruce
didn't need to torture her to gather data.

Her best bet to keeping this one treasured secret would be to act as her own dad might in
front of this man. She really had to sell her hatred was not just towards Bruce, but all his kin.

So Brooklyn relaxed against her golden chair, smirking at Bruce Wayne as if she were eager
to start a fight.

"What can I say Mr. Brucy, I like the fine things in life. How could I miss the chance to come
see this wonderful spectacle?" she replied casually, suddenly glad her expensive gifted dress
could help sell the 'spoiled little girl' act she was going for.

Hopefully, if Bruce saw she was nothing but what he expected, he wouldn't look too much
into reading her.

Unfortunately, she and Damian's dad were not the only people in this battle. After scoffing at
her answer, Bruce turned a curious brow at the boy beside her, who was trying to his best to
look small and unimportant.

Der'mo. Shit.

Unsure if she would be able to get Peter to play along somehow, Brooklyn elected to stay
calm and focus on how to play this to her advantage.

She outright ignored Mr. Wayne as she turned to Peter with a sultry smile she'd seen girls at
school use when they tried to catch Damian's attention. She felt dirty using their ridiculous
tricks, but a spoiled heiress would not shy in front of a prized....date.

"After this we should go to the luxury mall nearby" she said to her friend, "I've been dying
for some new diamond earrings"

Peter went wide eyed for a second, clearly sensing the change in her character, thankfully,
Brooklyn had made sure to lean her body close to his own to hide any trace of surprise.
She tried to send a silent message to Pete, a plea to play along for a reason he could not know
about.

"Um...of course" Peter muttered, shooting two thumbs up in agreement that almost made
Brook break character if only smile fondly at her friend. He may be super strong and smart,
but he was still shit at acting.

Of course, Mr. Wayne did not take to being ignored very kindly, and despite his wife's tried
sighs, the man said, voice loud and serious, "I would think Firestar and Spider-man had better
things to do than sit here for a few hours. Don't you have a city to save?"

Peter flinched at the casual mention of his secret identity, but Brook knew Batman knew all
about who they were. That was the tricky part of this little game of hers, the fact that Bruce
knew she was anything but weak.

He knew her Red Room origins and likely resented her for them, just as dad did with
Damian's League beginnings.

Hopefully, Bruce would fall for the little web she was weaving, thinking she'd let fame and
glory get to her head, that being spoiled and boisterous truly was something a Stark carried in
their blood.

Brook did not turn back to face the man or his wife, she merely placed the golden theater
binoculars before her eyes as she inspected the stage below.

Mockingly, she asked the man, "I believe my city would not be in so much constant peril if
you were able to handle keeping the Joker in check. If so, then who is truly to blame?"

Brook heard Peter stopped breathing, likely because despite knowing Damian, her friend was
likely still afraid of Batman. Then again, Peter hated conflict, but thankfully he refrained
from voicing that concern.

She was still lazily inspecting the stage, waiting for the man to make a reply of his own, a
reply that did not come for quite some time. The play begun a few minutes later, and
Brooklyn got so lost in the angelic singing and acting, that she forgot the enemy in the room.

The opera was beautiful. The costumes of colorful mermaids, creatures thought impossible
until the reveal of Aquaman's Atlantis, were the most mesmerizing of them all. The lights, the
music, even the acting told a story the way she'd never witnessed one before.

Brooklyn felt Peter relax in the seat beside her, even with the Waynes not far from them. He
too got lost in the story, in the intricacies and simplicities of the tale that truly reflected the
meaning of the play's name, a ban on love.

By the time the intermission came about, Brook was awestruck, mind cataloging the
Cecchetti method of ballet choreography. Even as the lights in their spacious balcony came
back on, the Stark felt her feet ghost the steps she'd seen, if only for a moment longer.
When she finally turned to Peter, she noticed he was leaning forward towards the stage,
chocolate brown doe eyes wide with his own kind of joy.

It was still in that haze that Brooklyn stood, clutching the fabric of her black dress as she
moved to the table on the other end of the small private room to get something to eat for her
and Peter.

She'd completely forgotten Mr. Wayne was still here until he stood beside her.

He'd moved on silent feet, enough to startle her slightly as she piled chocolate covered
strawberries into a plate.

The man said nothing as he took some food onto a plate, likely for his pregnant wife who by
the distant sound of it, already seemed to be holding a conversation with Peter. Just as she
moved to go back, to put a stop to it in case Pete shared something he shouldn't, Mr. Wayne
said, "I know my son is forced to work with you, and he is too stubborn to distance himself
from what he thinks is a challenge. But just know that if something ever happens to him and
you do nothing, I won't forget it"

Brooklyn was struck by the stupidity of that statement for a second. In her mind, there was no
way she wouldn't save Damian if he ever needed help...but Bruce could not know that.

So she leveled her voice, looked the man in the eye as she replied, "I think the point of
teaming up is not not hurt one another, but to help and protect those around us, Mr. Wayne.
Believe it or not, I can put hateful emotions for your family aside for the sake of a mission"

"All for a mission. Because you are a Red Room killer, right?" the man said, not hesitating
once to bring up that awful past, not knowing how much it haunted her as he continued, "I
saw the Red Room once you know, met Ivan. He told me his widows were faithful till the
end, that they would bring down the world for him and Russia. That's who you truly are.
yYou can fool your father, but you can't fool me"

Brook laughed, actually laughed at the assumptions made about her. She couldn't figure out if
he was trying to hurt her bringing up the past or if he truly thought he'd made a nefarious
discovery about her.

"Yes, Ivan told me the same thing all my life, Mr. Wayne. I just stopped listening" she
replied, debating if it was worth activating her Stark watch to blast this idiot to hell, but
instead chose to add calmly, "Besides, you should know better than anyone what it means to
train as an assassin then becoming someone with a mask"

The man set down his plate on the large table before them, one that had not been dented by
their food picking in the slightest. So much food would likely go to waste...she might have to
ask the staff to deliver the mountain loads of leftovers to the homeless in the streets then...but
right now, she was in the middle of a battle.

Brooklyn met those assessing blue eyes without any fear, she challenged his gaze without
flinching.
The man sighed, as if he were to explain something to a child when he added, "My mask and
yours are very different. People need dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy and I
can't do that as Bruce Wayne. As a man, I'm flesh and blood. I can be ignored. I can be
destroyed. But as a symbol...as a symbol I can be incorruptible. I can be everlasting"

Bruce's assumptions about him thinking she was nothing but a fool were clear, even when he
didn't outright say it. She was glad her dress covered the scars on her back, that her watch and
bracelets covered the other scars from her past, they would only be seen as a weakness in this
type of conversation...

"Our masks are not too far off" she said, then added with a hint of challenge, "I WAS an
assassin, I'm not proud of that, but it is what it is. I'm fighting evil now, is that not enough to
prove I'm different than Ivan? Isn't that enough to get you to stop trying to judge me?"

The man's glare deepened, a glare so like Damian's old stares when the two had been enemies
by last names alone.

In that moment, the man before her truly wasn't Bruce Wayne, but Batman.

"Being against evil doesn't make you good, Stark" he said, voice close to a growl as he
added, "I don't care if you think you can do good by your father's past deeds alone, if so you
are nothing but a child following a different man's shadow. Pretend to be who you wish, but if
my son is put in harms way thanks to you again...."

"You'll what? Kill me?"

Bruce Wayne just fixed his tie, gathered his plate, and said over his shoulder, "Typical Stark
arrogance. No, I won't kill you, but I don't have to save you"

Maybe Brooklyn's wits were at an end at last, because she too gathered her own plate, and
though she felt both Selina Wayne's and Peter's stares on her, she still said, "Right, because
you don't kill. Just like how you refuse to kill the Joker and everyone has to suffer for it,
including you own kids! I may be spoiled and pretentious, but my main priority in life is my
family...can you say the same? Because being against evil doesn't make YOU good either!"

The man paused, and though his fist clenched in repressed anger, Brooklyn ignored it
completely, just went back to her seat and tried her hardest not to take out one of her hidden
weapons and start a fight here and now.

She'd tried to keep her anger at bay, to stray from a fight for Damian's sake. But Bruce's
words hit hard, not because they were insults he threw her way, she could handle that...what
ate her alive was the fact that what he said were worries of her own.

She was a hero, fighting to keep people safe...but Bruce was right, she WAS from the Red
Room and nothing would erase those sins. Fighting the dangers of the world did not mean
she was not a danger herself.

In that moment, Brook realized Bruce Wayne would NEVER allow her and Damian to be
together. Not when he thought she was evil, not now or ever. Somehow, that fact made the
Stark even more upset, even when she'd know it all along.

Peter must've realized she was losing it, must've seen the small flames rising in her hands,
because whispered, "Brook, we can go if you want. I think we should, please"

Brook realized Peter was getting ready to fire the web-shooters under his sleeves should her
fire rise, he was already leaning back to keep safe from them. The sight of that unconscious
fear made the flames vanish, the anger fade.

So she nodded, not bothering to look back at either Wayne to see what they made of her
leaving.

Brook had the vague sense of Peter saying a quick farewell to them anyways, all she focused
on was walking out of the theatre by Pete's side until they made it down to the empty parking
lot.

Peter had stopped them outside the elevator, and as they stared at the underground space, he
whispered comfortingly, "Are you ok?"

Brook sighed, feeling more tired than upset as she whispered, "Yeah. Its such a shame we had
to leave, I was enjoying the show...never seen anything like it"

She wanted to apologize so bad then. This was supposed to be a day for both of them to relax
after all, and she'd ruined it.

Or so she'd thought.

Peter had silently steered them not towards the car to go back home, but to the outdoors, to an
alleyway just beside the theatre. He'd silently asked her to hold on to his arms as he shot out
webs that took them to the roof of the building.

He'd looked around for some time, but eventually found a latch that led them to the area
where all the metal beams for stage lights and such were.

Wordlessly, Peter shot out webs until they created a hammock like seat suspended above it
all.

Brooklyn and Peter sat on it, so far above everyone else that no one noticed them from that
amazing view. Brook couldn't help but be in awe, especially when the opera began again and
the two were lost in the beauty of it.

By the time they'd sunk out after the show, laughing as they raced down to the parking space,
the doubts resurfaced by her conversation with Mr. Wayne nothing but faint voices in her
mind.

In the ride back, she couldn't help but realize how good of a friend Peter was, not just for
getting her away from that fight, but letting her enjoy the night, even if it meant breaking a
few rules.
When they made it back to their floor at the apartment complex, she'd hugged her friend
tight, thanked him properly for everything. It was gettin easier to give thanks now a days.

Peter beamed at the hug, and before they both opened their own separate doors, Peter said,
"He was wrong you know"

"What?"

Peter fumbled with his keys, but said, "Damian's dad was wrong. Doing nothing against evil
is easy, but you're fighting it everyday. I think fighting evil does make you good"

Brooklyn smiled, letting the words push back all doubts, like light cast upon the shadows.
She could swear that breathing came a little easier after that, certainly made it easier to keep
from mentioning who'd been at the opera when dad and the Avengers called.

The heart emojis with knifes Damian had sent sometime during the opera certainly helped as
well.

Dick Grayson (Wayne) POV-

Dick hoped he wasn't late.

He'd been so busy back home debating how he should tell his parents his wife was pregnant
that he'd lost track of time.

Even now as he weaved through traffic, Dick debated if he should wait and do something
over the top like give them baby clothes with the words 'future grandparents' on it, or if he
should just say it outright.

Saying the news at his birth parents' graves yesterday had been much easier than this...

Luckily, B should be in a good mood after his date night with Selina, even when Dick
couldn't understand why they liked fancy shows like these. It must be an old people thing.

By the time he pulled up outside the place, he noticed mom and dad where already waiting,
both in heavy coats but still dressed in finery that turned heads from those passing by.

Dick debated quelling his nerves by making a joke with mom about how she should've stolen
herself some new jewelry tonight, but all that went out the door when he noticed B was
frowning deeply.

"Hey guys!" Dick said as way of greeting, moving to help his pregnant mom into the car,
"Did you not like the play? Was it the paps again?"

Bruce said nothing, but as Dick clutched mom's arm, she explained, "Your dad picked a fight
with a fucking teenager, drove her out of the private box"

Dick paused his movements of opening the back door, genuinely surprised by what he heard.
What could've caused B to pick a fight with an innocent? That wasn't like him at all.

"He what?" was all Dick could say, turning his inquisitive gaze to Bruce as mom clarified,
"Brooklyn Stark was out on a date with that adorable and well mannered boy, and he ruined
it"

Bruce rolled his eyes, moving to help Dick get Selina into the car, but he stopped his dad's
movements.

The wheels were turning in his head too fast, focusing on the words Brooklyn and date.

"Jon was here?" he asked.

Selina raised a brow, but it was dad who answered, "What do you mean Jon? It's Tony Stark's
ward, Spider-man. Though Clark did tell me yesterday that Jon confessed he's dating the
other Stark, Yelena...another Red Room agent. I don't know how Clark could allow that, the
Starks are an insufferable lot"

Dick saw mom hit dad in the arm, and they were both having some debate about letting
family feuds get too far...but Dick was too busy realizing what he'd heard at the Titan's tower
had been so wrong.

Brooklyn wasn't dating Jon!?

Oh! What a relief!

He and his siblings had been planning how to get Jon out of the way for days. Jason had even
begun suggesting kryptonite be used...but it seemed all that would be unnecessary after all...

Holy shit.

Maybe Dick drove a little faster then thanks to the new information, it had certainly made it
less nerve recking to mention he was about to become a father, something Selina couldn't
stop smiling about, and B seemed speechless at, but at least all traces of his earlier anger were
gone.

Dare he say, Bruce looked happy at the words. Even more so when Selina teased Batman
would be a grandfather.

Despite Dick being happy as well about being a future father, he pushed it all aside. He HAD
to gather his siblings, prayed they were all home for once even at this late hour.

They HAD to be home, because they'd had the wrong target all this time. It turned out that
the real target impeding Damian's path to happiness was not good ol' Jon, but fucking Spider-
man!

Had it been a shock to learn the great hero of Queens was a teenager, yes, but that was old
news by now! Dick still swore to throw away all his Spider-man socks when he got home,
because now that hero was their new target.
 Oh, Dick and his siblings would need lots of insect repellent for this mission now....

Chapter End Notes

Hope you all enjoyed these chapters that contained many revelations and hopefully
some sweets moments as well. I know some of you might think Bruce is saying things
he normally wouldn't, because he knows what it's like to change he shouldn't judge
Brook, right? But the point of this was to show that bruce is blinded by this family
hatred, that it goes past logic or reasoning. Hopefully things make more sense this way.

The next set of chapters are some of my favorites, I really hope you look forward to
them!
 Windows of the Past

Damian POV-

The English classroom was quiet for once, all classic works of literature pushed aside thanks
to his teacher's attempt to to 'give the students a much needed break'. Instead of delving into
another set of meaningless chapters, Damian's teacher deemed they could all do with an easy
assignment that would be due tomorrow.

Damian did not often think any school work in Midtown was difficult, his education had been
very thorough growing up that hardly anything could make him hesitate.

It was almost ironic how this supposed 'easy assignment' would be the one to leave him
staring at the blank paper before him like an idiot.

While everyone else in the classroom was talking as they wrote whatever nonsense came into
mind, Damian just replayed the instructions for the assignment in his mind, as if willing them
to change.

"This writing assignment will be easy" the teacher had said,"I just want you to write about
your youth, anything about your childhood that can fill five pages"

Those words had left him stumped, made him envy the ease in which Ned sped through the
assignment with a smile on his face. Sitting next to Ned had been a recent change Damian
had allowed, but in that moment, he regretted sitting next to someone who had no troubles
bringing up the past.

Damian's early life had been filled with killing, promises of a world at his command, then a
change in lifestyle so swift that it had almost knocked him off his feet a few times.

He was aware that not only would he have to come up with a pretty lie for this essay, but that
his beloved would have to as well. She was away in her own English classroom, likely
staring at the paper before her with equal annoyance, wishing she could set it on fire.

Damian was certain his homework would be read by no one but his boisterous teacher, but he
knew his lie couldn't be too far off from reality. It had to be carefully crafted.

The thing was, those days of youth were so full of loneliness and hatred.

Writing about the league of Assassins was not even a possibility in his mind, but those first
days at the manor were not easy to think back on either.

By the end of the class, he'd written nothing, letting the ink from his fountain pen bleed an
angry stain instead.

As he'd suspected, Brooklyn had been in a bothered mood thanks to the assignment, as had
Yelena. Everyone else had already finished their own work, sharing their happy stories of
days flying above Kansas, of three young boys that went to the fair each year for cotton
candy. Tanya had shared the tale of a first cheering competition, while Ned had tried to one
up her with tales of coral reefs from a trip to the beach when he was no older than seven.

Even the usually quiet Michelle had mentioned a trip to the White House when she was
young, one of the first protests she ever attended. It had even brought a smile to her face.

No one bothered to press the three assassins for details, as if they knew the struggle they
faced.

Damian hated it, being stuck on a homework assignment even Harry had finished before him.

Which is why he'd locked himself in his room after school and patrols, even when he'd
planned on making father's life miserable for saying such foul things to Brook yesterday at
the opera. Fortunately for father, Brooklyn no longer seemed to care about that as much as
she did for this essay.

Titus and Goliath had settled comfortably by Damian's feet as the teen settled on his desk,
determined to get this done so he could get on with more pressing matters, like stopping
someone as idiotic as lex Luthor from killing more innocents.

After much determination, he'd decided to take a page out of everyone's book, deciding to
write about a happy memory of the past, even if he'd have to change a few details.

The question was...what to write about?

Damian sat there for a while, sorting through his solid memory, even when he felt more
compelled to throw his notebook out the window that linger on the past. But it was the sight
of that large window behind him that seemed to trigger an old memory, one that might just be
acceptable for this assignment.

With one last resigned sigh, Damian pressed his pen onto the blank paper and began writing
with a steady hand as the fireplace burned and the cold snow fell gently outdoors.

His memory was of a snowy day as well, a time when Damian was not sixteen, but ten years
old. The manor had been much less inhabited by then, with only father, Pennyworth, Damian,
Tim, and Dick.

Back then, Damian's heart had been as frozen as the icicles hanging from the window panes
on that winter day.

The memory began with a young Damian making his way to the large library in the manor,
two finished books in hand about Advanced Calculus and American History. He'd found the
first far too boring, the second had just been outright pathetic. The stories from his days in
the League had been far more invigorating than this historical nonsense from a country that
seemed like an infant compared to the mighty centuries of the League's standing.

The only reason Damian had bothered picking up both books was because he was eager for
one thing and one thing only. Freedom. Unfortunately, for a boy his age, father had only
deemed school a proper reason to leave the manor (besides the already restrictive nightly
missions as Robin).

Damian had insisted he was beyond such education, but father had insisted that was the only
way for Damian Wayne to live a life, and perhaps in the future, claim his title as heir of
Wayne Enterprises.

He'd walked into the giant room with as much arrogance and confidence as he was used to,
but still kept his hands within easy reach of the daggers hidden under his clothes. Damian
was aware father intended to bring another spoiled beauty to the house today, which mean he
could stay in here unbothered until said woman left.

Father's charity cases, Richard and Drake, would likely be at the Batcave anyways. Training
with them around was out of the question, he'd actually made it his mission to ignore those
idiots as much as he could. So...library it was, even if Pennyworth would somehow find him
in a few hours.

That old man always knew where to look...

Fixing the folds on his black sweater, Damian had walked along the isles looking for his next
book, hopefully one that would actually prove interesting for once. It seemed like hours of
hearing nothing but the sound of his polished shoes against the wooden floors until he found
something quite peculiar.

It was a large leather-bound book, one that looked younger than the other books around it. It
almost seemed like it didn't belong, fit awkwardly against the shelf. Perhaps that is why
Damian paused and reached for it, setting it down on a nearby table by the windowsill.

The cover had no author, only a title.

The Wayne Family.

Damian quickly opened up the book thinking himself entitled to its contents thanks to the
blood running thought his veins.

It started out rather boringly, showing genealogical trees of Waynes going back decades,
further that when this country was founded. There was very little information on each Wayne,
mostly only names, birth and death dates, and ancient looking face profiles for each that
ended up looking more like shadows since they were nothing more than black outlines.

Each page was more boring than the last, that is until he made it to the page with father in it.
There he was, Bruce Thomas Wayne, at the bottom of the page. Richard Grayson was there
below father, then Jason Todd, and LASTLY was Timothy Drake.

It occurred to Damian that he was not yet labeled in his tree, that no one had bothered to.

It shouldn't have made him as angry as it did, but thoughts of father's anger towards him, of
the lack of trust between them, and the hatred father had for mother...it was enough to make
him rush out the library, throwing the book on the floor as he did so.
As he stormed mindlessly through the halls but was quickly met with Richard, who had a
towel on his head, lazy sports shorts and a t-shirt that clung to his body. Damian glared up at
him, not bothering to hide the fisting of his hands, or the anger behind his eyes.

At the time, Damian had wanted nothing to do with Dick, had despised him solely for the fact
that he claimed to be father's first son. Perhaps also for the fact that everyone couldn't help
but like Dick at fist glance, finding it easy to bring a smile to everyone's faces.

Filthy orphan, Damian thought back then.

Though he longed for a fight, a chance to use his strength and skills, Damian merely brushed
past Dick that day, ignoring Nightwing's concerned words as he stormed out to the closest
door he could find.

It just so happened to be the door leading to the backyard. Never-minding the snow, Damian
gathered a nearby black scarf from a rack and rushed out to the chilling air. He didn't stop
walking until Dick's calls were distant noise, until he knew he was completely alone.

It occurred to him then that loneliness was an old friend by now, likely would be forever. Just
as he'd been absent from that Wayne family record book, he was a separate entity from
everyone in the massive mansion behind him.

Damian just stood there, watching the white sky and the puffs of cold air with little interest.

The snow looked just as it did in Infinity Island...

He wondered then if mother missed him, if the League awaited an heir that was not likely to
return due to the dangers he'd face.

He also wondered if there was anyone out there that perhaps felt as alone as he did, someone
held back from freedom, who's skillset did not fit the young body they possessed.

Damian supposed he was the only one, for who could be as strong as him, as stuck in a place
that oftentimes felt like a new world? It almost made him wish for his katanas, not to cut
through the animal shrubbery around him, but to cut through the flesh of something.

It was instinct. Grandfather had always told Damian to focus his anger into killing to the
point that in his mind, anger meant death. He'd been minutes away from going back inside to
gather his things then try and sneak out the manor to try and find someone to kill when a
warm hand settled on his shoulder.

Damian wasted no time attacking, flipping the large figure behind him to lay on his front in
the tick lay snow. It wasn't until Damian he'd the intruder's arm in a lock that he realized it
was just Grayson.

"Chill out, baby bird. Just good ol' me" Dick had said with a chuckle, even when Damian had
made the hold all the more painful for him.

Dick had not complained, only flinched slightly.

"What is it? Am I not allowed in the grounds of the estate either?" Damian said, "Shall I go
back inside to behold father tricking a harlot into warming his bed? Perhaps I can save him
the effort of ignoring her later by just killing her. Carnal release will do nothing to fix the
missing status of that orphan he's fretting about instead of the well being of his blood son"

Dick's face had been littered by snow, but he stayed on the ground as he replied, "I see you're
in a good mood today. How about you let me go so I can show you something that doesn't
involve death since you're bored enough to stare at the snow all day. How about it?"

Damian heard his grandfather's voice in his head then, a common occurrence. It urged him to
kill Grayson, to get rid of him and Drake who were nothing but burdens and unworthy worms
with no title to their names.

But it was curiosity that made him release Dick then, step back enough so the older of the
two could see Damian fold his arms and glare.

"What makes you think I care for anything you have to show? Don't you have a circus routine
to practice?"

Dick stood up with a smirk, brushing snow off his coat, or rather father's coat which Richard
must've put on in a hurry out the door. It looked ridiculously big on him.

Brushing white flakes off his ebony hair, Dick merely said, "Relax, little D. I promise this
will be worth your precious time, lets just get inside before Alfred yells at us about getting a
cold"

As if Damian cared what Pennyworth thought...

Still he'd followed Dick indoors, with enough distance as they moved along un-ventured
halls. Damian had refused a tour of the manor from both father and Grayson, found he often
became lost because of it.

It almost brought back some of that cold anger at the sight of Dick walking ahead of him, so
sure of where he was going, even when this mansion was Damian's by blood. Perhaps once
father passed away, Damian's first decree as master of the house would be to kick everyone
out...especially Drake.

Dick led them through the winding halls until they stopped at a set of double doors on the
third floor. The blue-eyed idiot opened said doors with a smile, raising his hands to
encompass the clearly unused room.

It was big, furniture covered with white cloths for the most part, and there wasn't enough to
discern what this room may have once been used for. As they passed by, Dick took off a few
of the coverings, revealing surprising items.

Tables full of canvases and clay paint bottles that were carefully and elegantly labeled. Other
smaller tables contained a variety of brushes, more than Damian ever thought an artist would
ever need.
As dust lifted around them, Dick said over his shoulder while lifting more covers, "B said this
room used to be reserved for his mom. She was an aspiring artist, loved to paint here from
sunrise to sunset when he husband was away most days. Since she passed, Alfred said the
room was left to die"

Damian raised a brow as he ran an absent hand along the wooden tables and easels. He noted
the variety of unfinished paintings, some of the passing of nature, others of various rooms in
the manor, and some of a young boy with a smile on his face.

"Why bring me here?" was all the young boy could think to ask as he shrugged off his scarf.

Dick made his way to the large curtains on the other side of the room, prying them open with
clouds of dust flying around him. The little light from the outdoors shone along the room, one
devoid of weapons, replaced only by the delicate items it took to paint.

Damian had only witnessed art when someone came to paint his royal portraits at the League.
Aside from that, the young boy had never beheld all these materials or found he was
interested in them.

Grayson moved to remove more covers, some revealing couches with paint stains, others
shelves with books on all things about art, some with paintbrushes working as bookmarks. It
wasn't until all was removed that Dick replied kindly, "I figured you've been too hauled up in
the house with nothing to do but train. I can't convince Bruce to let you out of the house with
me and Timmy yet, but I figured you might appreciate a little hobby. You've got a steady
hand when you wield a weapon, perhaps you'll like to paint a bit"

Damian scoffed, leaning against the side of a table with a dusty record player as he
complained, "What I do with my time is none of your concern, Grayson. Besides, art is for
the weak, I was made to kill"

Dick did not seemed bothered by the harsh tone that sometimes sent father into a lecture, in
fact, the blue-eyed 25 year old only seemed to smile wider at the cold response.

He picked up a blank canvas and threw it Damian's way (which he caught easily), then said,
"Maybe all this art can help get out all that stress you love to harbor and turn it into
something beautiful. Until then, just think of this as a challenge. Surely the great and mighty
Damian al Ghul can paint a thing or two, right?"

Damian was seeing red...of course he could do something as stupid as painting!

The young boy had scoffed at the words, but set the canvas on a lone easel and began sorting
for a book and some paints.

Maybe he'd paint Dick with a donkey's body just to prove a point.

On his way out, Dick threw one last object, a small golden key that Damian caught one
handedly on instinct. When he raised a brow, Dick merely explained, "The room is yours for
as long as you want it little D. Only Alfred has a spare key, you won't be bothered by anyone
other than him"
Damian pocketed the key as he listened to Dick's instructions on how to make it back to his
room, almost seething with rage that Grayson knew he'd have trouble finding his way back.

Still, he'd settled down eventually, opened up a book to find delicate hand-written annotations
on the corners of the pages. The cursive was beautiful, legible, and often detailed preferred
methods on painting techniques or ideas for things she wanted to paint either for herself...or
her son.

At first, his attempts looked ghastly, but Damian refused to be bested by such a simple skill,
so he decided to go back the next morning to give it a try. This time he'd elected to wear more
casual clothes for the sake of not getting paint on his valuable garments.

When he'd walked in, Damian found the room had somehow been cleaned last night (and at
the time he hadn't know it had been Dick and a very angry Tim who had done it), so he just
relished in the lack of dust and the fact that his first attempts at art had been undisturbed.

He'd found himself going back in the next day, and the next. He'd painted almost as much as
he trained for a time, relished in the privacy of it all and found the techniques to be a
welcome challenge.

After a month, he'd gone through all the techniques in the first shelf, had honed his skills
enough to start making mockups of art by Monet, Michelangelo, and even Van Gogh. His late
grandmother had preferred them most, Damian had learned as much, even found he liked
their art as well.

It was one afternoon that he'd received a rather unexpected visit. It wasn't Pennyworth with a
plater of food and a plea to eat something...it was father.

He looked every bit as shocked as Damian was from where he sat before a canvas.

The young boy paused mid brush stroke to behold father was still in his Batman suit, cowl in
hand as he stared at the room in astonishment Damian had never seem before.

Father was mindful of what masks he wore around people, what emotions he showed after
all.

He walked into the room hesitantly, his eyes finding Damian's. The young boy expected
father to start another lecture, maybe be displeased with the amount of paint splatters Damian
had on his sweater and pants...but father just stared, as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Damian," father said, almost sounding out of breath,"I-sorry to disturb, I saw the door was
ajar and when I noticed light from within I thought Alfred might be cleaning this room"

Damian wondered what father was doing in this particular side of the manor, one the young
boy had heard Bruce hated to frequent since it held his parents' old rooms. Instead of
inquiring about that, Damian just stated coldly, "Do we need to leave for patrols early?"

Bruce blinked a few times, snapping out of whatever trance he was in before answering just
as strongly, "No, I just came back from patrols. I'll see you at dinner"
The boy had nodded, thinking nothing of the odd behavior as he finished his rendition of Van
Gogh's Starry Night.

He had noted though, that father walked out the room slowly, beholding the art Damian had
made and hung on the wall for later reference.

Father's eyes lingered on the canvases, especially on the ones Damian had hung almost
hesitantly, those belonging to the woman who'd first given purpose to this room. He'd done it
for reference as well, but perhaps also in honor of her good work, not that Damian would
ever admit it.

Since then, Damian had found solace in painting, had stopped trying to find ways to contact
his mother and instead went in to paint the landscapes of his past as a way to cope with the
absence. No one but Pennyworth had walked in after that day, no one but those four knew the
room was anything more than a locked section of the manor since.

Well, when Titus and Alfred the Cat had been gifted to him...that had been the only
exception.

At times when he sat there for hours painting, Damian would think to himself that a life full
of vigilante work and art was enough. He didn't need anyone to talk to, not friends or family
alike. It was those days that Damian was certain he'd be alone for eternity, that his emotions
would only be seen by the art around him.

Thankfully, he'd been wrong.

Staring at his phone screen, Damian set down his pen to see the string of texts from the
Dynasty. Most detailed mundane things, like homework questions, changes in practice times
for football, or photos of meals bought.

It was as he replied to a few calculus questions from Harry Osborn of all people that Damian
heard the ruckus downstairs that could only belong to his brothers and sisters being up to no
good.

He found it no longer bothered him very much. That somehow in a these years past, they'd
gone from being orphans to becoming family...

He'd finished editing his essay by midnight, leaving out the parts of his assassin past as he
finished a tale of ten year old Damian finding his first hobby.

Brooklyn had stayed up with him, and though she did not yet share what she'd done for her
assignment, she was very happy to hear his tale.

It was then that he realized ten year old Damian had also been wrong in assuming there was
no one like him in the world. How glad he was to be wrong for once...

Brooklyn POV-
Brook was staring at her blank homework assignment with distaste.

She'd just gotten back from patrols with Jon and Peter with little to report aside from a cut on
her arm from a man who'd tried to stab an infant during a fight. Unfortunately, the injury was
not enough for Brooklyn to convince herself her arm was rendered useless for typing.

She'd been laying on her bed for an hour, doing anything but her English assignment. She'd
busied herself with decathlon work, browsing through SHIELD files, and even swaddling
Rosa around the apartment.

Eventually, Rosa's blinking stare felt judgmental, as if the doll was telling Brook to get a grip
and just type the damn thing.

It could be as easy as lying about a holiday spent with dad as a kid, of something simple as a
day of her youth in the sands of a Malibu beach where her dad used to live once upon a time.

She'd told a million lies in her life, but there was something about lying to yourself that was
harder than she'd envisioned.

Even Yelena had already managed to write an acceptable essay, using a memory of Jon's past
and changing it up a bit to make it her own. Unfortunately, Brook was certain Damian was
struggling as much as she was at the moment.

Every time she began a story containing a young Brook with Tony and Pepper...it only served
to remind her just what she had been deprived of.

Her youth had not been one of joy and innocence, it was one of change and suffering which
the likes of her English teacher was not entitled to know about.

But she'd ignored the assignment long enough...

It was in the process of writing about a lazy beach day with Pepper gifting Brook a puppy
and dad building sandcastles that the teen could not help but think of how she came to know
such lies.

There was a time when her life had been not in New York or Russia, but in the French
District of New Orleans. It was often the closest period of her childhood she dared to venture
into, even if it was unpleasant in its own way.

Before New Orleans had been the Red Room and the orphanage SHIELD had dumped her in.
After new Orleans, was poverty and the battle of New York.

If there was ever a time in her young life that did not involve killing, it was her days under
the adoption of the Jones family.

Back in those days now coursing through her memories, Brooklyn had been nothing but a
lanky nine year old with fiery auburn locks no one else in the orphanage seemed to posses.
Though she suspected her young beauty had not been why she'd been adopted.
Her adoption had been quick, as if the orphanage had been dying to get rid of her thanks to
her habit of scaring the other kids. No one had been particularly sad to see her packing when
the news came of her adoption, especially none from Brooklyn who had already known this
would happen, even when she was not happy about it.

The Jones family had shown up a week prior, looking every inch the perfect American family
most of the kids at the orphanage gushed and dreamed of. They consisted of a tall man, a
short woman, plus their young son no older than Brooklyn.

They had claimed they'd always wanted a girl but could not conceive one, Brook would
know, she'd heard it as she spied on the main office that day.

Their story was moving to the director of the orphanage, and after sorting through some
paperwork and data, the fat woman who loved to yell at Brook (yet had the good sense to fear
her) shoved a stack of profiles of the girls in the orphanage.

Brooklyn had been hidden up in the vents, stolen piece of bread between her dirty hands as
she mentally bet on just who would be adopted this time. She'd just never expected to be
picked, had almost given up her location when she flinched at her file being singled out from
the others.

The couple had gushed about Brook's fake past, at the sob story of the girl rescued from
Moscow, who's parents had died in a tragic military incident. The file kept out her particular
skillset from the Red Room, making Brook seem like a victim rather than a survivor who had
fought tooth and nail to leave Ivan's iron clutches.

The director of the orphanage did not know of Brooklyn's beginnings either, but she did not
complain when the happy couple expressed their wishes to adopt her.

Anything to get rid of her.

Brooklyn, who's legs were scraped from crawling in the vents all day, had been anything but
happy that day as she retreated back to her room.

The couple seemed sweet at first, but her spy instincts had been stronger then, and she'd
known early on their kindness held lies. But she wanted out of the orphanage, enough so that
she had even considered killing the family once she was far enough from this place.

Problem was, she had no clue how to be kind and joyful like the other girls, qualities that had
gotten others adopted. So she was left no choice but to be shy when the Jones family had
come to meet her the next day.

They did not mind the dirt on her clothes, the fact that she did not like to be touched, or that
she spoke very little. They had made mental excuses for those things on her own, assuming
the dirt was from playing around, the reclusiveness from missing her birthparents, and her
silence from a lack of understanding of the English language thanks to her Russian
background.
She put up with their smiles, let them pinch her rosy cheeks, blabber about their lives, even
elected not to kill their son when he kept pulling on her hair anytime his parents were not
looking. She could've easily chocked the fat little creature with a strand of her hair, but
instead kept poised and nodded when the couple had finally offered to adopt her.

When she'd left, Brooklyn had made sure to finally put her project from the last few months
to good use. She was always covered in dirt not from playing, seeing as kids refused to play
with her and Brook didn't understand the purpose of playing in the first place, but rather
because she took to the gardens most afternoons in hunt for a specific animal.

As she got into the Jones' red van with her mediocre plastic bag of belongings, Brook was
still able to hear the death gripping screams coming from the main office inside the
orphanage. It took little guesswork to realize the director and the kids had come across the
army of spiders she'd been catching and hiding for months.

Their screams of horror had been heavenly then, the first taste of vengeance Brooklyn had
allowed herself since she helped kill her mother in the Red Room.

As she'd suspected, being taken to New Orleans by the Jones family would be nothing short
of torture. As soon as they had gotten home, Mr. Jones had dropped his act of all smiles,
instead instructing Brook that she was not to bother anyone unless necessary.

Mrs. Jones, the blonde beauty with cold brown eyes had shown Brooklyn to the attic, a small
room containing nothing but a simple bed, a wardrobe, and a single round window that
outlooked the busy street full of kids at play.

As instructed, Brook did not bother the family that ignored her existence. She kept to her
room most days, looking at the kids her age out on the sunny streets, wondering what about
those stupid games they spent hours on they found so enjoyable.

She had not know anything but what the Red Room had let her see or know, so even the sight
of a bicycle or a lollipop was a foreign thing of mysterious beauty.

Brook learned much from observing the kids at play, even managed to convince 'her parents'
to place an old TV in the room so she could learn a few things from the news channels.

Slowly, her days became a routine. Wake up at the crack of dawn to be fed a small plate of
food, go upstairs to observe the street beyond, eat again (maybe get yelled at for no reason),
then go back up to her room until night came.

It was early on that she noticed the oddity of not being around many people. The orphanage
kids often ignored her, but they were always there for meal times and chores. In the Red
Room, there wasn't a time of day she wasn't surrounded by fellow widows.

The loneliness was a surprising weight that seemed to stack up as the days passed.

Perhaps that is why she had grown bold one day, asking if she could venture outdoors. Mr.
Jones had seemed astounded enough she was actually talking, and maybe that is why he had
allowed her to go out in his state of shock.
She hadn't been allowed to venture too far, and often times was only allowed out when kids
were busy in school along with Jamie, her 'brother'. It was all the better for Brook, she did not
feel like socializing and Jamie was annoying enough as it was.

It was one day as she roamed the streets alone that Brook took her gaze away from her old set
of clothes to see a building containing books, a library. She'd learned from passing
individuals that the knowledge there was free, one did not have to fight to earn it. The next
day, she'd implored Mrs. Jones for a library card, and the woman had relented just to get
Brook out of her sight.

So, while Jamie was at school bothering kids there and Brook's keepers were busy at their
respective work, Brooklyn spent her days buried in information, learning as much as she
could about this strange world.

No one bothered her those days, and soon enough the librarian had stopped trying to pry
answers or start conversations with a silent Brook.

It was a blessing to be in that quiet building, away from those she had to call 'family' when
visits came. Brook was often paraded around as a poor child the family had kindly adopted to
give a better life. In those days, Brooklyn was given new clothes, not to mention Jamie was
forced to behave around her.

He was a spoiled kid, one who loved to push Brook around and make her miserable. He
loved to barge into her room when he pleased, reminding her of how she wasn't allowed to go
to school like he could. He loved to brag about his 'large' group of friends, of the presents he
received while Brook never got any.

She debated killing him often, too often, but the fear of SHIELD shipping her off back to the
Red Room was enough to leash her into silent compliance.

There WERE days she wondered what Natalia Romanova did with her time, if she recalled
the sestra she got out of the crumbling Red Room. Likely not, for she had not heard a single
whisper from the woman since the day Brook landed in this country.

So her days of torture never changed. Jamie still loved to pull her hair every morning, loved
to remind Brook of her limited meals and clothes while his own shiny and expensive ones
were many.

Brooklyn never bothered to tell the idiot she did not care for material things, found wicked
joy in replying to all his comments in Russian until the boy grew frustrated and left. She
swore often that she'd NEVER refer to him as her brother, or anyone for that matter.

She had no family, likely never would.

There were days however, when she spoke to others aside from her keepers.

There were days called 'Holidays' in which kids did not go to school, and it was in one of
those days that Brooklyn was approached by the hoard of curious kids she often watched.
They were kind at first, imploring she come play with them once they figured she was
'Jamie's little sister'.

For a second...she wanted their joy, to learn their games and be able to let her guard down for
once. She wanted to know what having a friend was like...

That had quickly changed when the kids heard her odd accent, when they noted the scars on
her wrists and those visible on her back. They had laughed, some screamed as they fled, but a
group of boys and girls had circled Brook with their bikes, not letting her go on her way to
the library.

They pushed her around for a while, not caring for the scraping of Brook's legs as they met
concrete. They called her names too, ones she did not understand at the time to feel any kind
of ill emotion from them.

Frankenstein.

Edward Scissorhands.

Things like that.

Brooklyn had debated killing them too, using their bikes to do it, but instead took the beating
silently. Let them hit and laugh at a sleeping killer.

She'd learned a valuable lesson that day, a lesson forged from pain like all others she'd
learned in the Red Room.

She'd learned to keep her scars hidden, and she never approached the kids again, even when
she still beheld them from the darkness of her room.

All that changed when the French Quarter Festival was in full bloom. She had not been
invited to go by the Jones family, but she'd snuck out to see what life was like away from the
books she read and the views outside her window once the lure of the music became too
much to resist.

The sight had been one of the first beauties Brooklyn had ever witnessed.

The streets were full of people, some in costumes with masks, others in old suits and dresses
from decades past she'd seen in old Victorian books.

The air smelled of delicious pastries, treats, desserts, and sweets she could not afford, but
seeing their splendor had been more than enough at the time.

The streets were full of minstrels and bands, some marching and dancing to the beats of their
own making. The trumpets, she'd decided, had been her favorite.

All around, the old buildings were decorated in a splendor of rainbow colored banners,
confetti, and garlands of white flowers in bloom rested above the big streets.
Brooklyn had watched clusters of people dance to steps unknown, witnessed men and women
in stilts and costumes towering above her. She saw children running around with face
paintings of different animals, and beheld many singing along to songs they seemed to feel
deep in their souls.

Brook had realized Ivan had never mentioned such beauty, that she had not thought it
possible until then...that was until she had been caught by Mrs. Jones and punished with
staying in her room all week, not that she left often anyways.

One of those days she was in the kitchen, saw Tony Stark on news as Iron Man on that tower
of his in Manhattan. Brook instantly recognized him as her father, one she later learned after
a great extent of watching the news, that he was truly viewed a hero.

A hero was not an enemy like Ivan had said. A hero was a kind of hope even the Jones family
seemed to look up to.

They kept people safe, let them have their parties and fun while they seemed to be doing all
the fighting.

Tony Stark... a hero that lived in this country, that lived in New York.

She'd told no one of her true heritage, not ever. No one in the house knew why she asked
about Iron Man or why she scared to know where he lived.

It wasn't until weeks later of planning and thinking that she stood outside the Jones residence,
gladly flipping it off the way the vagabonds in the streets of New Orleans often gestured to
things they hated.

Brook left only a singular letter on her bed of where she would go, detailing that she would
contact the Jones family when she could. Not so they would pick her up, but for her share of
the money she knew they kept her for.

In exchange for money, she'd keep quiet of her absence in their home and the horrible job
they'd done to raise her, which thanks to her books she knew was illegal.

She hadn't gone to library all those months for fun or an escape, but to learn all she could
about this strange country, and to find a way to use the Jones family to her advantage.

She'd mapped out bus routes, the metro system, learned how currency worked, and found a
path towards Stark Tower.

She'd taken only a handful of money which she considered her own seeing as she was giving
the family income by just existing. Instead of killing them, she let them live their retched
lives, gathered her little bundle of clothes, her small box of valuables, and stole a bicycle
from one of the girls who had pushed Brook to the concrete that day long ago...and trashed
all others from the other kids for good measure....

She'd shoplifted for a time to survive, found it easy to do so for quick meals and supplies
while she was on the road.
It had been a lonely beginning, one she wouldn't even dare write about.

Instead, Brooklyn wrote her fantasy story, one much like a tale from a book she'd read at that
library in New Orleans when she'd been lonely and clueless on what path to take.

By the end of the essay, Brooklyn felt drained. One look around her room had changed that
though. The sight of her Polaroids, the joy in her own face on them as she was surrounded by
friends and family.

There had been a time when Brook thought having a family was impossible, nothing but pain
and loneliness.

Perhaps there was some good in this English assignment after all, because Brook was
reminded of all she'd gained once again.

She'd texted her family warm 'good nights' that day, had made sure Damian was fairing
alright, and bickered with her friends with jokes and virtual smiles.

It occurred to Brook that no matter what came in the future, at least she was not alone. Nine
year old Brooklyn would be more than surprised by this life, at least she thought so when she
reached under her bed for the old stuffed animal from her days at the orphanage.

With that, she closed her laptop with a satisfied grin, then went to bed in peace, keeping the
bear and Rosa close.
 Umi

Damian POV-

He stared down the long table at the twenty three men seated with smirks on their faces.

Some rolled their eyes when he'd walked into the Wayne Enterprises corporate meeting,
others actually leaned back on their chairs when father had announced Damian would take
charge of today's discussion.

Damian was seated at the head of the table, refusing to falter in his posture, keeping his real
emotions hidden behind a mask of calm that the men closest to the teen actually seemed to
fearful of.

They'd yet to know fear.

Damian had known that as soon as father left him alone in this room, the men before him
would see this as a joke, perhaps even an opportunity to play tricks against him, or try and
belittle him as much as they could just to feel they already held some power against him.

Such fools they were, thinking Damian had come here unprepared, that he was just a teenage
boy playing CEO with little backbone to back it up.

Damian stared down the chattering animals at the table, let them whisper amongst themselves
as he scanned the documents before him, pages he'd already memorized last night. He let the
air simmer with their jokes and doubts, waited to see who would look at the teen in the
expensive William Westmancott suit and see nothing but a boy raised in luxury.

He waited patiently to see who would try and befriend him in hopes of a raise...and who
would try to demolish Damian's standing in hopes of making him feel that his age was a
hindrance to this meeting.

Luckily, Damian's short patience was not put to the test today.

A man eight seats down on the left had suddenly made his laugher notable to everyone in the
large room. He was a man Damian knew to be the Chief Financial Officer, someone of little
ambition aside from money. No family, only a few people here who pretended to befriend
him thanks to his position.

It was true Frazer Andrei was a man who was payed a handsome salary, a man who enjoyed
luxury as much as he enjoyed the donuts from The Cauldron on Bleake Island. Money was
all that was generally interesting about him, that large belly, thinning blonde hair, and those
sunken grey eyes were certainly unpleasant enough...like the secrets he kept.

Damian pretended to be confused, pausing the scanning of his documents to raise a single
brow at the man. It was with the authoritative voice born from his childhood as prince of the
League that Damian asked, "May I know what you find so funny Mr. Andrei? The meeting
has not even begun?"

The man was momentarily startled, those in the room finally quieting down.

Mr. Andrei sent not so subtle amused smiles at those around him, and he didn't bother to fix
his posture slouching on his chair as he said, "I was just unaware that today was bring your
son to work day. We need to discuss important matters with your father boy, or perhaps you
can call your brother Tim so we can get this meeting started"

Damian fought the urge to rip the head off from the man at the mere assumption that Drake
was better suited for this job. Anger would do him no good to gain control over the people in
this room, men who were too proud and old to see reason.

He was quiet for a few seconds, his gaze burning holes into the now nervously fidgeting man.

Damian rested his hands together on the black marble table, let himself look relaxed as he
announced to everyone while keeping his glare fixated on Mr. Andrei, "Father has finally
decided that the small tasks I've been handling for the company have proven my worth. He
believes I am now ready to handle more important matters in his stead, as preparation for my
approaching future as your boss. Let it be known here and now that just as you have
answered to my father and Timothy, you shall now answer to me as well"

Some of them men further at the other end of the table actually snickered, only a wise few
had the right mind to straighten up and get ready to work. Mr. Andrei was not one of
them...such a shame considering Damian would've spared him a kinder fate had he groveled.

The man stood from his chair, looking around the room as if he were outraged.

"You can possibly expect us to take orders from a kid!? What will the company become if a
child thats not even out of high school starts making important decisions? What does he
know about how Wayne Enterprises works? We are the heads of all the important
departments of this company, we're too busy and important to hold the hand of a teen who
doesn't know the first thing about what it means to be CEO!" he yelled to his comrades, as if
he were attempting to start a revolution of sorts.

The speech was almost pathetic enough that Damian considered laying out all his cards right
then and there, but that would do little to show the extent of his capabilities.

Everyone looked to Damian still seated in the too large chair, at which point he decided to
drop the simple glares, replacing such a dark expression with a simple smirk. A smirk that
confused those around him, Mr. Andrei the most.

That poor man had no idea he'd just given Damian everything he'd hoped for, left himself
open for a sacrifice that would serve as an example to others.

Casually, Damian sorted through his documents, pulling out a set of pages he had the two
assistants, standing dutifully behind him by the windows, deliver to each man at the table.
The two placed a single piece of paper before each seated man, all papers set upside down.
His confident smile was enough to keep any from flipping the pages, all but one man.

Mr. Andrei did not seem to appreciate the power games, was the first to turn over his paper,
only to recoil back when he saw its contents. His pale face had turned impossibly more so,
and the mouth that had been spouting such nonsense was now unable to produce a single
word.

Damian raised a copy before him, serving as a cue for the nervous men around him to do the
same.

"I'm glad you spoke up about your thoughts on my inability to do my job Mr. Andrei"
Damian said, watching as the man began to shake, tears in his eyes (either from anger or fear)
as the teen continued, "It just so happens I have a few concerns of my own"

With the tip of a nearby fountain pen, Damian tapped the paper including the information on
this pathetic man's life.

"Though you have done your job as Chief Financial Officer well, enough so that neither my
brother nor my father have thought to look too deeply into your life since you were appointed
by my grandfather" Damian said, smirking wider as he said into the now quiet room, "I on
the other hand, think its important to make sure those working in my company can be
trustworthy, skills are secondary to that"

"Young Mr. Wayne...please" Mr. Andrei said, voice weak and pathetic.

Too bad it was too late for pleas.

Damian stretched out his hand, waiting for one of father's assistants to hand over his glasses.
Truth was, he did not need them to read the contents before him, but it served as an action to
increase the dread in the man.

With glasses on, Damian read out, "Mr. Andrei's reports seem to have little to no problems,
but if one looks closely enough at the revenue of each department and company building, it is
easy to spot small amounts of money missing. Its nothing too big, a couple hundred dollars
here and there, but when they stack up, its almost $100,000 missing per month"

Everyone gasped, some men even had to loosen their ties as the discomfort grew.

"It was not difficult to track this money, to find it was being deposited to several accounts
belonging to family members of Mr. Andrei. Foolishly, this man has been careless in his
spending, too careless" Damian said, pointing to the chart at the bottom of the page with no
ounce of mercy as he asked the room, "Is anyone familiar with Arnold Flass? He's a detective
for the Gotham City Police Department's Narcotics department. One who has recently been
arrested by an anonymous tip revealing drug dealing and corruption-related charges"

Damian knew everyone in the room now understood just who exactly it was that sent that
particular tip.

Mr. Andrei was visibly sweating now, and for good reason.
"It just so happens that Mr. Andrei was great friends with Mr. Flass, that his bank records
showed a substantial amount of money being transacted between the two" he added, finally
leaning back on the large chair before pulling out a disc from the same folder that had
contained the papers, waving it around for all to see.

The mens' curious gazes turned cowardly as Damian explained, "This particular disc contains
video evidence of the two men meeting in private to exchange drugs for money and vice
versa. They were trying to be discrete of course, but a single apartment complex camera was
enough to catch them in the act. Would any of you be interested in seeing five years worth of
corrupt acts?"

No one dared to answer, Damian was actually sure no one was breathing at this point.

He set down the disk, turning that smirk towards the man in question, and with a menacing
voice belonging to the Robin of the night, Damian told the frozen man, "Your luxury
apartment is currently being searched by the police for drugs and the hidden money which I
know you keep inside the left pillar in your kitchen. In a manner of minutes, the police
should be here to arrest you for your crimes, and Wayne Enterprises will make sure you will
never receive a high standing job once you get out of jail"

Mr. Andrei was whimpering by now, hands shaking so much the rings on his fingers made
the most annoying noises against the table with each uncontrolled move of his appendages.

True to his word, a knock came at the door seconds later, and with a simple command to
come inside, the man was carried away in cuffs by five police officers who apologized to
Damian for interrupting his meeting.

As instructed, one of the officers mentioned he'd remain in the lobby downstairs in case he
was needed, and with that, the polished french doors closed with a thunderous sound.

Damian chose that moment to stand, slowly walking around the table, silently watching as
the men shrank in their seats as he passed.

It was a shame Gotham was a city of sinners, that this company held too much corruption
because of it. Damian was not as cruel as he once was. Thanks to tales of Brooklyn's own
humble beginnings on the streets, he now understood that perhaps some of these men only
committed crimes for money for the sake of survival, to have enough to afford a safer place
to live or to provide the best life for their families in a city so full of crime where the only
hope was a Batman that slithered in the shadows.

Still, he knew enough about these men that such ambitions did not apply to all of them,
perhaps at first, but some of them had gotten truly greedy, taking advantage of father's busy
schedule to do as they pleased.

All that would stop today.

Once he was back on his chair, Damian snapped his fingers, and one of the assistants brought
forth a stack of folders identical to the one referring to Mr. Andrei. Everyone flinched as the
folders were set down, at the sound of paper on table, like a gunshot.
Damian got rid of his grin, making sure to glare at each man present as he said, "Now that
you all know this teenage boy is not messing around, I will give you all a small kindness"

He flipped through the folders mindlessly as he announced, "You have a choice now
gentlemen. Those of you who have abused of this company, you know who you are, now
have the chance to quit this job and leave out that door. Those who think they can stay and
not be punished will be proved otherwise, and will not only be fired, but publicly humiliated
and arrested as the fragile law of this city demands. It is your choice"

The room was quiet for a few seconds until the first scrape of a chair resonated in the room.
The Chief Technology Officer was the first to stand, head low, face pale as he apologized to
Damian before exiting the room.

Five more men were wise enough to leave after that.

With each man who stood, Damian handed back a blank labeled folder to the assistants
flanking his chair. After they had all left, two folders remained unopened and undisturbed.

Damian smirked at the table and said, "It appears two of you will have to face the law today"
and after an annoyed sigh, Damian said to the assistant to his left, "Call the lobby and tell
them to send the police officer to the work areas of subjects 5 and 9. Their dismissal letters
should already be laid out on their desk by the time they have cuffs on their wrists"

The woman nodded, taking out her cellphone at the same time the Project Manager from
Wayne Biotech and the Marketing Manager from Wayne Aerospace stood up abruptly, fear
written in their eyes as they rushed out of the room pleading mercy.

Those that remained looked like they wanted nothing more than to disappear, but breathed
out a sigh of relief as the two folders were handed back to the male assistant.

"Make sure the information on all these men is given to the authorities once they resign. I
will not allow injustice to go unpunished" then he turned back to the men in the room, "Let it
serve as a reminder that I will excuse no crime in my company gentlemen. Now, shall we
begin with this meeting? The replacements will be in here shortly"

Everyone nodded, turning on their laptops and tablets, silently taking out their papers, all
getting ready to give their presentations and reports by the time the replacements for those
dismissed had arrived.

Damian had hired them yesterday, had to sacrifice some of his after school art club hours to
hold the meetings virtually. Glad to see the room now held some fresh faces, most of which
were now women, Damian let himself relax slightly.

Father had not announced his intentions to let Damian hold a bigger role in the company till
yesterday, but Damian had been working on this little project for weeks now. He knew
running a company would be a lot of work, but it was his birthright, and Damian wanted
everyone to know that no one was more suited for it...not even Tim Drake.
So while he'd been doing menial Wayne Enterprises work these past few months, he'd also
been investigating everyone of worthy standing in every position and country Wayne
Enterprises worked in. He'd silently gathered data on them, found information from all those
rats hidden in the dark in between missions and school work.

Father did not know any of this yet, was too busy as Batman to even think about doing what
Damian had done today. Good, let it be a way to prove himself in his father's eyes.

He had a bone to pick with his father anyways for the way he had spoken to Brooklyn at the
opera a few days ago. Damian may not be able to defend his beloved outright, but he could
make father swallow his pride as payback instead.

It took quite a bit of control to not look at his phone during the long hours the meeting ran by.
He never let anyone in the room see the hidden concern in his eyes at his knowing Brooklyn
was out on a mission.

She'd find his worrying unnecessary anyways, would likely call him tonight telling her how
fun her SHIELD mission was.

So he focused on the meeting, letting the men and women rant about the progress and
changes in the different branches of the massive company that would one day be his.

Damian kept up with it all, the product of months if not years of studying how it all worked.
He did not shy from pointing out mistakes, from making changes of his own to future plans
the company had, and no one dared to defy him for it.

By the time the clock struck 6 and all matters had been discussed, Damian stood from his
chair, watching as all others did the same a heartbeat later.

The assistants gathered all of Damian's documents, and as everyone thanked him for his time,
Damian merely said, "All of your salaries will be raised this month, consider it a reward for
not being stupid enough to test a Wayne. Expect surprise visits from me in the upcoming
months to each of your departments and branches. If there is something amiss, you know
what awaits you"

Everyone nodded, even as they tried to hide the fear in their eyes.

With one last look at them all, Damian added coldly, "Meeting dismissed" and left the room.

Workers gawked as he walked by, but his eyes were ahead, head held high. He addressed no
one, merely walked over to the private elevator after a command to the assistants to send him
the necessary documents for next week.

In minutes, he'd made it eighty floors down to the garage, where a man was already there
ready to hand over Damian's car key, another handing over a briefcase.

Damian quickly got into his sports car, almost feeling foreign at the absence of Roscoe's
controls. Even though that car was a piece of junk, it had become his preferred vehicle, one
perhaps more prized than this new black Lamborghini Countach.
Still, he sped through the streets of Gotham, a city practically owned by the Waynes but
protected by Batman and his Robins. No one stopped him from speeding, and it was only
minutes later that Damian found himself back home just as the sun set.

He knew the gloating to father would have to wait, seeing as he and Damian's siblings were
away on a mission tracking down the Joker.

If his team's suspicions of Lex Luthor being involved were true...then they were looking in
the wrong place.

Idiots.

Titus had been waiting in the living room for him, been the first to greet him back home with
a singular bark as he strode to Damian's side.

Goliath rushed down the stairs shortly after, and Damian was once again struck by how
quickly the dragon-bat was growing.

The once small red-furred animal was now tall enough to match Damian's knees, his wings
and canines growing along with him as well, almost double the size from before. No wonder
Brooklyn had begun trying to build a different suit for Goliath to use when visiting her
apartment. They had also agreed to take an opportune weekend with the team at the Kent
Farm to help Goliath with his flying after all.

But he was far too tired from being CEO for the day....

A part of his exhaustion felt a little unnecessary in his point of view. He knew that Brooklyn
never reverted to strength and ruthlessness when dealing with Stark Industries, that the only
reason Damian had to was because Gotham made sinners of its people. Those who worked
with his beloved needed nothing more than to see her skills and genuine smiles in exchange
for their loyalty...Damian would have to work a long while to condition that kind of trust
from his own workers, and it would only be effective under a strong rule.

If grandfather were alive, he would've been proud of Damian's performance, for it had been
inspired by him after all. Blackmail, fear, intimidation...all factors grandfather had used to
secure his own power.

It made the young teen feel wrong in a sense, made him feel as if that wasn't who he was
anymore. Such conflicting thoughts only helped to add to his already bothersome headache...

Unceremoniously, Damian let himself fall on the inviting couch, finally acknowledging his
headache and exhaustion now that there was no one around. Or so he had thought...

"Please tell me no one was killed at the meeting today" came a voice from the kitchen door,
one that did not belong to Pennyworth, but Selina.

Damian raised his head from the couch only to see the woman waddling towards him, hand
on her pregnant belly. Her eyes were wide open, which was rare considering she'd taken to
napping throughout the day.
He debated ignoring her words, making a beeline for the kitchen to try and find Pennyworth
and Rosa (even when Selina's cooking apron suggested neither was in the kitchen
earlier)...but perhaps it was the exhaustion of the day that kept Damian on that couch.

He'd watched father's wife take a seat on the loveseat to his left as he removed the
constricting suit jacket and tie with languid movements.

She seemed to note his stationary decision with some semblance of shock, but said nothing of
it as she got comfortable with an array of pillows.

Selina was a confusing creature.

She's always taken her role as a 'mother' to the others quite seriously for a past criminal.
Though Selina still relished in mischief, for someone who used to coerce with Harley Quinn
and Poison Ivy...she made time for everyone without criminal intent.

Damian could even recall the day Dick had accidentally called her mom. She'd gone out to
the gardens and let out a joyous laugh that day. Since then, the others had warmed up to
calling her as such, all but Damian. Father often grew angry and frustrated by that fact, but
the teen had never felt urge to do so...or so he thought.

Selina was on her phone, and seconds later one of Tim's experimental robots (meant to help
Pennyworth around the house) came forth with a chocolate shake. The tiny box-like robot
stopped at Damian's feet, and when he looked up to the woman for an explanation, she'd said
casually, "You must be starving, drink up. Bruce and Timmy usually are when they have to
deal with those old farts all day"

Damian grabbed the familiar drink, trying not to look at it too wearily as he mentioned,
"Pennyworth makes me these every day when I come back home. Is he in the kitchen?"

It was identical in scent, which made Damian wonder when Alfred had deigned to make this
and how the woman knew about its existence.

With a faint smile, Selina leaned on the plush leathers as she said, "Actually, I'm the one that
makes them for you. I just ask Alfred to give them to you so you don't think they're poisoned.

Damian tried not to go wide eyed at the information, at the realization that his favorite drink
was made by the woman before him.

She'd known he wouldn't except a thing from her, and had worked around it to give him
something on the days he was tired and hungry.

Perhaps a younger version of himself might've thrown the milkshake away just to prove a
point, to establish the divide that was harder to keep now a days. Instead he just took a sip of
the drink, noting it truly was equal to those he'd been drinking for over two years.

The woman seemed satisfied with the silence, or perhaps the lack of an over reaction,
because she settled back comfortably, not even looking surprised as some of the stray cats the
two of them took care of in the gardens suddenly came in to huddle by her feet.
Due to her pregnancy, Damian had been told the woman could not spend as much time
around them anymore, or at least around the cat litter boxes because of the risk of parasitic
infection. Yet she seemed to sigh contently at their presence, even when a few of them braved
Titus and Goliath's glares to rest on Damian's own lap.

Damian became distracted by the three tiny kittens, all with different colored furs as they
nuzzled into his chest, the grey one actually daring closer to sniff his drink.

He too had relaxed while petting them, letting the problems of the day vanish into nothing.

Maybe that's why he'd been startled by Selina's voice when she suddenly said, "You know
Damian, something is different about you lately"

Damian tried not to roll his eyes at the vague observation, knowing full well the woman was
playing a cat and mouse game of sorts. Perhaps she truly was bored, with everyone out of the
manor for once.

"Is that a problem?" he asked, not entirely sure whether he cared for her response or not.

Selina chuckled, "Of course not. I guess what I was trying to ask was, how are you doing
with all that hero stuff in Queens? It must be different from the work Bruce or the League had
you doing"

It was. Damian would not admit it to a single person, but being a hero of Queens was some of
the most challenging work he'd ever done. The visibility, the people chanting his name with
hope, the expectations that he'd always be there to save the day...they were far more than he'd
bargained for when he accepted being part of the Avengers Dynasty.

Being a shadow, a hero in the dark, that was easy. Prowling in the night while working with
Batman, a controversial vigilante, it was closer to what his grandfather had trained him for.
He could be as violent (without killing) as he wished and no one would bat an eye at it. If he
made mistakes, if a life was not saved, no one would bother thinking Robin was responsible
because he was nothing but justice on a human body.

But being in the spotlight, the citizens looked up to him. Damian had pretended not to notice
people at school and out in the streets wearing Robin merchandize, had turned a blind eye
when he noticed kids in the streets of Queens playing with domino masks and swords,
pretending to save the day from whatever imaginary enemies they conjured.

If the others were bothered by it, he hadn't noticed. But Brooklyn had noticed his own
discomfort at the unusual, had assured him she shared that same confusion, that she too felt
this new hero life they lived made for greater responsibilities.

Father had not bothered to ask how he was fairing, likely just watching his good
performances on the news or reading about them in the newspaper. Damian knew he had to
make his father proud, which is why he would never admit to him that this was a...difficult
adjustment period.
In some ways, it was easier pretending to be a ruthless company heir than it was being an
innocent and righteous hero. It felt less like a lie, something only people like Brooklyn and
Yelena might understand.

Perhaps Selina might as well, given her past.

"I have been showing promising results haven't I?" was all Damian managed to say.

Selina nodded, picking at her food as she replied, "We were all concerned for you at first, but
you seem to be doing alright even when your team includes two Starks"

At the mention of his beloved, Damian schooled his expression into slight disgust, something
that was becoming harder to do as the days passed, as he realized his feelings for Brooklyn
were as solidified as the promise of a sunrise every morning.

Perhaps it was in an attempt to create a distraction from having to speak ill of either Stark,
but Damian asked, "Speaking of criminals, did father ever hold your status of Cat Woman
against you the way he does with Brooklyn Stark?"

Selina set down her platter of fruit, a move that made Titus' ears perk up in case of a threat.

Titus was still on guard by Damian's feet, always weary of anyone that wasn't, Damian,
Pennyworth, or Brooklyn. A single pat on the back had the dog relaxing, turning back to
examine as Goliath settled beside him for a nap.

The woman, sensing she was not in danger of being attacked, leaned forward with curiosity
in her eyes, as if she was about to ask something but thought better of it. Instead she replied
with a far away smile, "No, not any more. I think at first he thought I was all evil, just a thief
who relished in mischief, but the more we got to know one another, the further that
perception held any sway"

Damian let the cats crawl all over his body, focused his whole attention on Selina's open
honesty as she added, "A long time ago before I put on my mask, I was afraid of everything.
Now I'm not. There was some good in the bad I did, even if it was just for myself. Bruce
realized that, and never once did he bring up the old shit I did ever again, especially since
thats what brought us together"

Damian could only nod, perhaps not if full understanding on his father's emotions, but in
acceptance. Acceptance of the past the woman had, the one Damian too had been holding
against her for some time.

It was easier to think she was just some unworthy criminal, to think she did not belong rather
than to accept there might be some good in her. But everyone had grown to care for her, even
Jason.

Seeming to note his passivity, the woman reached out her plate of assorted fruits, like an
offering of peace.
He debated leaving once more, an instinct he'd grown so used to when it came to Selina that
it almost seemed like there was no other choice but that. But he pushed it down, forced
himself to recall that the woman was not an evil mastermind...and took a handful of grapes
into his hand.

Pleased with the exchange, Selina asked, "Want some advice?"

Damian merely hummed in reluctant agreement, letting the chocolate richness of his shake
mix with the taste of fresh grapes in an attempt to distract himself from the metaphorical door
he'd just opened.

A conversation with Selina.

"I can see you're stressed," she said, not an ounce of judgement or mocking displeasure in her
voice that mother would have when referring to such a weakness, instead of a lecture, Selina
added, "but all you have to remember is that you should never quit what good you're doing.
Don't let your enemies see you're afraid, don't let them see you when you're hurt, don't let
them see you cry. But behind closed doors Damian...feel, let it all out. When you take off that
mask, dare to live fast, love hard...try not to die young"

She held onto her baby bump then, a fond gesture that almost distracted him from her next
words.

"Life is a tricky thing" she sighed, "I used to just want to survive even if my life was full
doing questionable shit and basically worth nothing. Now I'm quite glad to have all of you
with me. I'm glad to do some good, to have a family to love unconditionally...all of it, the
good and the bad it took to get here, it was worth it so I could have a life worth living"

Damian wouldn't have understood those words months ago, but now he'd tasted a bit of that
kind of freedom, found he liked it.

For some reason, perhaps his exhaustion, Damian asked, "Do you think I can have a life
worth living?"

She smiled, broadly and openly as she replied, "You already are, I can feel it. To hell with
whatever your dad tells you to do and not to do, live the life that you want"

The statement almost made him recoil. There were only a handful of people who had dared
tell Damian he should live life as he wished, everyone else had just tried to command him on
who to be.

That was why he asked rather harshly, "Why are you nice to me?"

He'd wanted to ask that for months if not years, wondering why the woman bothered with
kindness of making chocolate shakes, of showing up to school events, of smiling when he
came back home or inquiring if he was safe after a mission.

Damian had been trying to be kinder recently, but that mostly consisted of just not saying
anything 'rude' or unpleasant. Yet she'd never complained before that.
Selina leaned forward enough to rest an open hand on the arm of the couch he sat at. She did
not take his hand into her own, only left it there as if it were another offering as she said, "I
may not be your mother, but I consider you my son like all the others. I'd die for you guys,
defy the devil himself if he tried to take one of you away from our dysfunctional family. I am
nice because I care for you Damian, I guess I just never say it because I know you won't want
to hear it, but that doesn't mean my feelings are different"

Damian felt his eyes widen, felt his body freeze up at the words even his own mother had
never said. He wondered if this is what his beloved felt when Pepper Potts accepted her as
family, if the warmth and safety of it all had felt like a relief too.

It was in that moment that Damian finally realized mother may have given birth to him, but
the woman before him had been there the way a true mother should be. He'd not noticed
before because he hadn't known any better, but now as the two sat in the lone living room,
Damian could tell that just as his siblings had come to be his family...this woman was as well.

So he took her hand in his own, held it gently before whispering words he never thought he'd
say, more specifically, a word he hadn't even dared to say to his own mother.

"Thank you...umi "

Selina's brown eyes widened in curiosity as she gently whispered back, "What does that
mean? Umi?"

Damian actually had to look away from her gaze, focus on the cats pawing at his white dress
shirt and vest as he replied sheepishly, "It means mom in Arabic. I can call you something
else if you prefer...I don't care"

He'd call her something else if she wanted to take back thinking of him like a son, was what
he left out of that statement.

Dick had mentioned days ago that being pregnant made women very emotional, easily
overpowered by even the smallest of emotions, which I what Damian assessment was
happening when Selina began to cry, clutching his had tightly as she whispered between
small sobs, "I like it actually. How do you say son in Arabic then?"

Damian only hesitated slightly as he answered, "Abn"

Selina tested the word a few times, and when she said it to him, Damian found he actually did
not mind being called that from her.

The moment of peace was only halted when the TV blared the alarm of breaking news.

Damian and Selina quickly shifted their gazes to the screen expecting to see some issue in
Gotham, only to see images of a building on fire, of rubble and destruction.

His first thoughts were that a factory had neglected their safety protocols, but the news
anchor managed to shatter that aloofness as he announced, "This is just in, but a building in
Atlantic City has caught on fire, one that cannot yet be contained. Some report Captain
America was seen inside but no one can get close enough to confirm if-"

Damian stood from his chair, not bothering to hide the panic in his eyes as all exhaustion left
his body.

Brooklyn was in Atlantic City today, on a mission chaperoned by an Avenger. And those
flames...they may look normal to any person, but he knew deep down who those belonged
to...

He didn't bother explaining himself to Selina, and umi did not bother stopping him as he
rushed out the room towards the Batcave for his suit. With phone in hand, he went to the app
Ned had made, pressed the emergency button to summon the team, and rushed into his suit as
quickly as he could.

Damian didn't even bother speaking to a passing Alfred with Rosa in his arms, didn't have it
in him to waste time that could mean the difference between his beloved's life as he jumped
into the forbidden Batmobile with weapons in hand.

Father could yell at him later for stealing the vehicle, Damian would shoulder the blame and
punishment gladly. So he opened the controls, shut off the tracker in the car, ignored
Pennyworth's pleas for an explanation before driving out of the cave through the series of
underground tunnels that took him to the outskirts of the city.

He didn't slow his speed, not as he hauled ass to Atlantic City with the moon shining brightly
above in the sky.

Each unanswered call from his beloved only made him drive faster, swerve past all traffic,
even going as far as to jump past bridges and overpasses as his panic grew.

All he could think about was Brooklyn's face the day she'd stopped breathing in his arms, and
he swore that whoever had done this...whoever had put her in harms way would pay severely.
 Avenger for a Day [Part 2]
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
 Part 2: Secrets Well Kept

"There was much of the beautiful, much of the wanton, much of the bizarre, something of the
terrible, and not a little of that which might have excited disgust"

-Edgar Allan Poe

Brooklyn POV-

In light of all the issues the world was facing, of all that Brooklyn had to deal with, it wasn't
often that she spared a troubling thought towards SHIELD.

As a SHIELD agent, her job was simple as of now thanks to her hero status, but she really
should've realized Fury would drag her, Peter, and Yelena into an important mission
sometime soon.

It was a cloudy Saturday morning, and Brooklyn had been sitting down next to her sister at
the breakfast table, stacks of Grandpa Steve's pancakes before them. The two teens could
barely keep their eyes open regardless of the delicious smell, all thanks to the fact that they'd
stayed up practicing ballet with Nat.

It didn't help that Natasha had beed dying to spend time with them after being so busy (even
if she tried not to show it), so much so that they lost track of time. Dad had 'yelled', more like
teased, at them for it earlier. Not Nat thought, no one at this table was dumb enough to yell at
Natalia Romanova.

So as Harley tried to sneakily steal some of Brook's morning bacon while she leaned on her
sister's shoulder sleepily, her mind was running through the list of things she had to do...like
find a way to prove Lex Luthor was up to no good.

Thankfully her and Ned had something to show about that when the team met tonight.
Damian was busy at Wayne Enterprises today, Tanya was at a cheer competition, so tonight
would be the only available hour to talk business.

The discovery of new information had all started because something was bugging Brooklyn
about what they'd found on Lex.

His little murderer suit had something labeled as a 'hypnotism weapon'. LexCorp was known
for specializing in biotechnology, weapons technology, communications, electronics,
pharmaceuticals, and many other branches of technology....but none of them seemed to fit
that particular weapon.
Damian had mentioned the man had a degree in biochemical engineering, which meant that
weapon or the 'illusion casting' tech couldn't be of his own creation.

At first Brooklyn suspected those weapons could not work yet, they sounded like some
farfetched devices in syfy movies. But Lex wouldn't have half-assed tech on a suit meant to
fight Superman. Meaning he'd mastered the technology somehow.

He could have people working on that stuff on the side, but something about the familiarity
of it all struck her. So she'd asked Ned for the specifics on those two weapons from the suit,
as much as he could find on them.

It had been the right call.

Turned out, the illusion casting tech WAS familiar, because it was developed by none other
than Stark Industries. Brook had come across it during some company files that had needed
sorting, from some of dad's own personal projects. She hadn't thought much of it at first
glance, the project name BARF had been nothing but a good laugh actually.

But BARF was quite an expensive project, one that had caught her attention once she realized
what the letters stood for. Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing.

It was complicated stuff, something that had impressive capabilities, but the product was not
released. Instead, dad had kept it to himself for personal therapeutic purposes.

Essentially, B.A.R.F. relies on a complex holographic system that connects with the user's
hippocampus, allowing it to find a certain traumatic memory and alter it before projecting
that memory onto an external infrastructure. Through the altered projection, the user is able
to successfully re-experience and hopefully work through overcoming traumatic experiences.

Now it was likely just collecting dust in one of dad's vaults.

That was what dad has used the extremely costly tech for, but in the hands of someone like
Lex, he'd turned such an innocent project to disorient Superman in a fight.

That wasn't even all she'd found on lonely nights cuddled with Goliath, watching reruns of
whatever show was on at one in the morning. Her exhaustion had proven to be worth it,
especially once she figured out just why something like a hypnotism weapon seemed
familiar.

It was because of Great Grandpa Bucky.

Thanks to her SHIELD agent status, Brook had access to quite a lot of information (not
enough to see the files of Peter's parents though), especially since she had a father who was
an Avenger.

The files on Sarge James Buchanan Barnes were few, but the paperwork on the Winter
Soldier could overflow a single filing cabinet with ease.

Within those documents, one could find quite a bit of information on HYDRA projects seeing
as the man was one of the first to be subjected to those experiments. And one of the few
remaining survivors of course.

Brooklyn had only looked at said files not because she was curious about Grandpa Steve's
friend or particularly keen on seeing how her grandparents had died at Bucky's hands...but
because Brook too was a HYDRA experiment.

She'd once hoped to find answers on what had been done to her there, but found that the
experiments done on her with the tesseract were not even close to what had been done to
Bucky.

Ivan wanted to make her a weapon, but never thought her loyalty towards him needed
enhancing, such was not the way for The Winter Soldier. Barnes had been brainwashed with
HYDRA technology for decades, made to forget his past and follow the orders given to him
without a chance to fight them.

It made her feel a strong since of pity for the man, especially when she'd looked deeper into it
two days ago after Decathlon practice.

The Memory Suppressing Machine was technology used by HYDRA to erase or suppress the
memories of a subject, a machine that could 'hypnotize' a person to do what the wielder
wanted. All it took was a long painful session with the machine, a few trigger words, and the
sweet man with gentle smiles from Wakanda could turn into the soldier that had killed over
two dozen people since the early 60s for the Soviet Union and HYDRA.

It was chilling to think about what Lex intended to do with that kind of weapon. HYDRA
was working for Cobalus, that much had been clear for a long time, this was only solid
confirmation there was now a link between HYDRA and Lex Luthor.

The question was, how did Lex get Stark technology into his slimy hands?

It was far too early to ponder over the intricacies of that, which is why Brook had hoped to
bribe Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Clint into going easy on her at training today so she could rest
up for the long meeting with her friends tonight.

Only such plans had gone out the door when Fury summoned everyone to a conference room.

More than one person had been astonished by the fact that Brook, Yelena, and Peter had not
been exempted from that summons, which is probably why dad was more alert than usual as
they made their way a few floors down. He kept to their sides protectively, along with Nat
and Grandpa Steve. Actually, all the Avengers seemed a little nervous, even when summons
for missions were normal for them.

Brook tried to look calm, not let the emergency tone of Fury's call deter her from being
anything but professional. The same could not be said for Peter, who had rushed out of his
room with dry drool on his cheek and eyes that could barely open for longer than five
seconds.

Yelena was wide awake now, as much as Brooklyn was, only she seemed nervous. This was
her first SHIELD mission as an official agent after all, and all the auburn haired girl could do
was link her hand with Yelena's for silent support.

Whatever battle or mission they here in for, they'd do so together...or so she'd thought.

Fury had taken one look at everyone seated at the conference table in their pjs with little
scrutiny, which already spoke volumes of the severity of what this emergency mission was.
Dad seemed to sense it too, because he placed a supportive hand on hers and Yelena's
shoulders as he took the seat between them, the ones closest to Fury and the projected map
behind him.

Only Uncle Scott had flinched slightly as security protocols closed all doors and windows
leading into the room, reinforcing the walls around them with strong steel that seemed both
soundproof and impenetrable.

All that was lit now was Fury's stoic face and the map that shifted to show marked locations
across New York...and beyond.

Fury never was one to dally with pleasantries, and had gotten right to the point explaining, "I
have new intel that suggests all the shipments that have evaded us these weeks have been
stored in various locations. Normally, I'd send agents to investigate them, but I've been told
doing so would only alert the enemy. Since there are a number of locations, and the United
Nations panel in charge of approving Avenger's missions has only cleared a handful of you
for this mission. So we're bringing in the juniors"

Steve was the first to stand, looking every bit as mad as Nat and Sam seemed to be.

"We should just all go! This is a very serious mission that could be a turning point in this war.
Surely the Sokovia Accords can't be more important than the lives saved if these weapons are
confiscated!?" The Captain said, voice nothing short of a command, a side of Steve Brooklyn
rarely got to see.

She wasn't even mad that she, Peter, and Yelena were considered backup. Brook understood
the severity of this mission well enough, knew that time was not on their side and that the
'ease' of this intel could very well lead to a trap.

Fury looked like he might start an argument, but instead commanded back to the room, "The
only Avengers approved for this mission are Steve, Natasha, and Tony. And before the rest of
you stand up to complain, remember that the only reason some of you can even go on
missions instead of rotting in a cell is by agreeing to let the United Nations mandate our
moves"

Every single one of the adults seemed to be silently seething, well, save for Wanda and dad.
One seemed guilty, the other worried.

Brooklyn had to push back the excitement of going on an actual SHIELD mission of a level
clearance she'd yet to earn. She had to get her mind under control, pay attention to the intel
and the plan of action that would be put into effect.
When no one dared to complain again, Fury added, "Since I don't feel like sending a single
Avenger to each location like a cow for slaughter, one of the Dynasty members will be
joining in. And before you complain Tony, the Avengers in charge will decide just how
involved the kids will be in the mission. They can be simple lookouts in case things really do
go south, or you can have them fight by your side. Either way Tony, I don't care if you feel
responsible for the three kids, when in a mission, they are agents and they will answer to Nat
and Steve"

Dad was already about to stand, likely about to argue for them to stay, but even he seemed to
understand the importance of this mission, enough so to simply curse under his breath before
letting Fury continue on with his orders.

By the end of the hour long meeting, Brooklyn had hugged Peter and Yelena tight, wishing
them good luck as they went separate ways on the busy air field.

She'd gotten on a Quinjet with Grandpa Steve, him already dressed in his black Captain
America suit, Brook wisely choosing to leave her Firestar suit behind for something more
covert.

Checking the pockets on her black body suit, she cataloged every non-lethal bullet, the twin
HK P30 pistols strapped to her thighs, the CZ 805 assault rifle on her back, and the gauntlets
she hadn't used in a while thanks to the necessity of using her fire during patrols.

It was SHIELD essentials, something that an agent would wear.

Pete and Yelena had to give up their own hero attire for something similar, but Peter had not
been given nearly as many weapons as the ex-widows had. For him, Brooklyn worried the
most, even if he was still allowed to use his super-human strength and his healing remained
superior than theirs.

Brooklyn had argued using her powers or even going as Firestar might be a bad idea. Being
identified as one of Queen's heroes working to bust alien weapons with the Avengers might
attract unwanted attention from Cobalus or the Joker, at least thats what she had argued.

In reality, she'd wanted to spare her team from losing the element of surprise since they were
conducting their on investigations. Last thing they needed was Lex Luthor getting
suspicious...if he even was Cobalus that was.

After checking all her weapons and loading them properly, Steve came back from the cockpit
and took a seat beside her own. He casually informed her they would arrive at Atlantic City
in an hour, which was good for Brook considering she needed to sort thought her own nerves.

Saving a city from simple thugs was one thing, going back to stealth work like this was
another.

Maybe Steve could see her nerves rising, he'd always been good at noticing those things,
which is why he wordlessly handed over a bullet proof vest from the seat beside his as he
said, "Everything will be fine Brook. You've done good work as Firestar, you're ready for
this"
Brook smirked, strapping on the vest as she pointed out, "But you don't like it, you don't like
that I'm here any more than dad or Nat do"

Steve sighed, leaning back while staring at the holographic map on the other side of the
Quinjet.

"I know you and the others are capable for this mission, don't get me wrong. But I can't help
but feel a bit protective of you guys. You kids are great, but me and the others will always
worry about you"

Brooklyn knew that.

She really did understand why dad had hugged her and the others tightly before departure,
making them all swear they would remain unharmed since they had school to go back to. She
knew dad was worried, that Steve and Nat were as well especially since they were shit at
hiding it.

But none of the three adults could show that worry on the field though. They wouldn't be dad,
sestra, or Grandpa Steve in those moments, couldn't afford to be if things went south.

Steve would have to give orders, she'd have to follow them and that was that.

Here, as the Quinjet flew discretely across the morning skies, Steve could say what was in his
mind. He was likely urging her to do the same.

"You don't have to worry" she answered calmly, "I've trained for days like these. You, the
Avengers, and SHIELD have made sure we are ready, Fury wouldn't have risked sending us
out otherwise. I'll follow your commands, get out of your way when you say so, haul ass if
you ask me to. Just know that whatever happens I've got your back, you don't need to watch
mine"

Steve smiled softly then, looking down at her with so much pride as he said, "You've really
grown from the girl we met all those months ago" then patted her on the shoulder and got up
to do whatever prep-work he needed.

Brooklyn was left with her own thoughts for a while, wishing she'd been allowed her cell
phone so she could send a better message to the team about what was happening.

She knew mom and Harley would be beside themselves with worry as they'd been when the
teens left the compound in their SHIELD wear (they had been the first to be notified about
the mission after all). But Brook had only been able to send out quick texts to her friends,
knew that Damian would be equally as worried for he return if he managed to see the
message before heading out to Wayne Enterprises like he'd mentioned yesterday.

She hoped he did not worry on her behalf, even when she knew that if the roles were
reversed, Damian would be on her mind all day.

But for now, she could not afford to focus on all that, she had to hope that not only her
mission went well, but that Peter would have luck with Nat in Manhattan, that her dad and
sister would come out unharmed from Staten Island.

When they finally made it to the inconspicuous part of Atlantic City, the Quinjet was left to
hover above the abandoned movie theatre, high enough that she and Grand...Captain
America, would have to parachute down.

Brook had rarely found herself having trouble with heights, even less so after she'd taken to
flying with the assistance of her flames or swinging around the city with either Spider-man or
Robin.

Jumping out of the Quinjet had been the easy part of the mission, and perhaps the only
successful once.

Brook and Cap got into the building from a large smoke duct that led them to an abandoned
kitchen the ancient movie theatre must've used for large amounts of popcorn making.

Captain America stayed at the front, shield covering his torso as Brook guarded their backs,
rifle loaded and ready to fire as they explored the dark and desolate building.

Neither had deemed using flashlights as a good call, preferring the darkness to hide their
presence. They were careful of their steps as they searched every abandoned room, every
crevice, and each hallway.

It was a large place, but by the end of their inspection, Brooklyn was almost glad they'd
found nothing.

She could tell the Captain was about to call the mission quits, or that had been the case until
they'd heard voices, faint and echoing in the direction of an old utility room. It was Brooklyn
who peeked around the corner, and amidst the dust and darkness, she was able to make out
two men going into a too-small closet, closing the door behind them.

Brook and Steve waited ten minutes before they even dared walk over, and Cap made sure to
walk in first, just in case.

His safety had been for nothing, because the closet was empty.

It took only a few minutes for Brooklyn to find the secret lever that made a hatch beneath
their feet open, revealing a long stairwell illuminated by enough lights that she could see this
pathway did not lead too far down.

With a hand signal, the two headed down, careful to not even breathe too loudly as distant
voices grew in volume and quantity with their descent. Brook's heart was steady, even as her
mind was too busy trying to guess just what she was going to face down there. Still, she
found herself hoping her team was not facing anything worse.

The intel had been correct after all.

Steve was the one to peek around the corners of the staircase this time, and whatever he had
seen had made the Captain hesitate only slightly before motioning a set of commands with
his hands.
Knock out as many as you can. No killing.

Preserve gunshots and don't fire wildly, too many things can explode around us.

Dodge whatever they shoot at you, these are alien weapons.

Brooklyn merely nodded, taking a second to calm her mind, making sure all her weapons
were ready to use before she and Steve jumped from their hiding spots.

The next few minutes were a mesh of chaos. It was like Brooklyn was working on autopilot,
falling back into her SHIELD training and that her family had given her.

Brook had started out with her rifle, covering Steve from afar as he lunged into the fray by
shooting anyone who got too close to him. Once her bullets were gone, she joined him,
dodging lasers and bullets alike, fired back only when she had clear shots at the men and
women covered head to toe in black.

The enemy did not hesitate to try and take them out, even if along the process they ended up
killing some of their own. They were determined to get rid of her and Steve, which made it
hard to keep an eye on the Captain as she was busy dealing with the ten or so men, focusing
her attention on them.

It would've all been much easier to deal with if it hadn't been for the walls lined with alien
weapons of various shapes and sizes, each looking more dangerous than the last.

It wasn't until the twenty four hostiles were either killed by their comrades, sedated by Brook,
or knocked out by Steve, that she dared to take a steading breath, not bothering to let go of
the rifle she'd been using like a bat as she leaned against a nearby table.

The break was short, just enough to get in a few steady breaths before the noises from the
adjacent room got her back into a defensive stance. It was clear from the panic on the other
side of the metal door that subtly was long gone, they knew they had visitors.

Like the previous battle, the altercation that followed was a blur of dodging deadly weapon
fire all while trying her best not to kill anyone.

Captain America did his best to stay close by, using his shield to take out enemies near her
when he could. Sometimes, he even threw the vibranium shield for her to use, and it was
surprisingly light and manageable as she used it to knock out a few men before throwing it
back to its owner. In turn, she kept an eye on his six as well, making sure to send a few
bastards to sleep when they'd tried to backstab the WW2 veteran.

Seriously, did they have no regard for the elderly?

It was all relatively simple work, dare she say, almost fun. The masked people attacking them
were not very well trained, only made up for it by their massive numbers and alien weapons.
Still, it was hardly something Brooklyn would refer to as 'difficult work'.

She'd been thinking this would end quickly, that they would defeat everyone there, maybe try
and get some information too until SHIELD came by to confiscate the contraband.
Oh, how wrong she'd been.

It WAS all going quite well until they made it to yet another adjacent room. Brooklyn was
running low on her special bullets, but was glad to have her gauntlets on in case it ever came
to that.

They had entered the room cautiously, but unlike the previous one, this room was not in full
panic when they arrived. It was much larger than the previous space, almost like a
warehouse. By the looks of the nearby beams and no-so-old-looking floors, this must've been
a new construction. It made Brook wonder just how many weapons the Joker and his allies
thought they'd need to stash there.

It must've been easy, considering this movie theatre was quite a distance away from
civilization. But even so, someone must've noticed when this expanded warehouse
underground was built right?

That curiosity had been reduced to nothing when they made it further into the room, weapons
raised and ready to fire.

Screams or lasers did not greet them....instead, it was the sound of muffled cries.

Steve had been the first to see just what the cluster of bright lights held in the middle of the
room, and for the first time in her life, Brooklyn heard the Captain curse softly. She might've
made a joke about it, but the sight of twenty civilians strapped with rope and tape keeping
their mouths shut was enough for her mind to go into full panic mode instead.

There were only four criminals left, each smirking behind their black beanies with the
confidence of people who knew they had won. They held odd looking alien weapons in hand
that glowed a familiar blue, pointing them at the sobbing men and women...and, Brooklyn
realized, a child no older than eight being shielded by the strangers around him.

Brooklyn tried to recall her training, pushed back the panic as she tried to figure out what to
do. Even if she decided to use her fire, it wouldn't exactly be a good idea. Her flames were
probably faster than a bullet or a laser, but these criminals clearly managed much more than
just illegal weapons. There were fumes all over the room thanks to whatever drugs (or at least
she hoped they were drugs) were being cooked up on the left side of the warehouse.

If she lit a spark, depending on what they were cooking up, the place could potentially blow.

Though people's eyes shone with relief at the sight of Captain America, Steve did not seem to
stray from his serious stare as he asked the men to let the innocents go.

It sounded like anything but a request.

"Put the shield down, Captain" the man in the middle said, "We don't want to kill all these
people, but we might consider sparing them if you leave this facility and let us conduct our
affairs. Then...we can give you the captives"
Brooklyn was mindful of her public fame, made sure her face was as hidden in the shadows
as possible as she asked in a tone of voice that did not belong to her, "Right. You thought
someone might come in snooping, didn't you? Otherwise you wouldn't have captives on
hand...you were expecting us"

The man in the middle, muscular with a giant eagle tattoo on his arm, laughed at the
comment, his other buddies joining along despite the wails of the innocents.

"Not the Captain specifically" eagle arm admitted, "There is a hoard of heroes who would
love to meddle with our affairs. You two just so happen to be the unlucky ones that ended up
here"

Cap's voice was steady and calm as he said, "You're outnumbered, believe me, with my
partner and I you don't stand a chance. Just let the people go free, then we can help you"

"Help!?" the one on the left said, pointing his gun at Steve, which made Brook shift her feet,
ready to take the hit if need be, even if the Captain could likely dodge it.

That man seemed to be the most trigger happy of the four despite being skinny as a toothpick
and quite possibly drunk due to his swaying. He may very well end up shooting himself by
accident.

"That's the problem with you heroes," toothpick said, "You think everyone in the world needs
help! But when we need you the most, you're nowhere to be seen. Tell me Captain, how
many innocents have you killed while trying to 'help'? How much fucking blood does the
golden boy of America have on his hands? Word on the street says you're on thin ice with the
higher-ups after your little stunt with the accords"

Brooklyn was taken back by the question. Like Steve, she had assumed most of the men and
women working for the Joker or Cobalus could be doing so against their will. Maybe they
just needed the cash...but she never expected them to feel as strongly against heroes as
Cobalus did.

That made this little war all the more dangerous in her eyes.

Despite her nerves, Brook tentatively pointed her black gauntlet at that man, especially as he
continued to say, "Captain America, the man frozen in time. I think you were asleep for too
long, froze your brains out, because you....you just walked straight into a trap"

Brook saw Steve tense then same moment she realized these men had no intention of letting
the hostages go. They weren't here for leverage or to strike a deal, the innocents were here to
buy time, to keep these four men alive just long enough to do...to do what?

She considered turning on her com device, but Brooklyn had the faint thought that raising her
hand to her ear might just get people killed. They were too far down to get a good signal
anyways. So she watched hopelessly, hoping Steve had a plan to fix this little trap they had
walked into.
Maybe she should've pressed Fury on how he got his intel earlier, asked how easy it had been
to acquire.

This wasn't a transfer of weapons, this was a trap meant for heroes.

Brooklyn was trying to look around her for something to help, but each time she tried to look
for a new angle, Ivan's voice whispered into her head.

Killing those men is the only way, do it.

Shoot them, you know how. It is easier than target practice.

No one would be able to blame you, these men could have many tricks up their sleeves. The
best way to be rid of a problem is to kill it. So do it now.

Brooklyn almost reached for the gun strapped to the back of her belt, the one loaded with
actual bullets she'd only brought in case there was a sturdy lock or a pipe she needed to shoot
as a distraction. She had never planned to kill with it.

Still, she almost reached for it, but the only thing that stopped her was that golden promise,
the one that tied the fundamentals of her team. No killing. Even if her old assassin instincts
were spiking again, Brook willed herself not to go for the easy route.

Perhaps she should've done it after all...

Another of the masked men, the one with the most unsettling smile, slowly pulled out a
glowing box. It was no bigger than the palm of his hand, but it glowed a familiar blue, one
that made her and Steve tense.

Please don't be a bomb. Please don't be a bomb...

They were too far underground to outrun it.

Even when the four men suddenly commanded the captives to run over to the exit, Steve
gave Brook the order to wait till the innocents got far enough behind them, so she kept her
gauntlets pointed at the men who now turned their own weapons towards them lazily (as if
they did not intended to use them).

Brooklyn tried not to let her shock show at the release of the prisoners, she only kept her aim
ready in case the criminals tried to shoot any them as they ran. She could tell Steve was
confused too, but if it got people to safety, neither of them would bother complaining now.

The fact that they let the captives go was most definitely not a good sign though...But what
could they do?

Steve and Brook had to make sure to cover their backs as the people ran. Just as she sensed
Steve was going to ask for a distraction so they could follow, the four men lowered their
weapons, letting their fall echo across the space.
The one that had yet to speak was the man that stepped forward. He took that mysterious
glowing box from his colleague, looked her and Steve dead in the eye as he said to the
Captain, "Our mission is almost at its end, and thanks to Cobalus' mercy, we've been given a
chance at revenge. This is for Washington DC, for when your little act of blowing up
Helicarriers killed our families....Captain, we'll see you in hell"

Brooklyn had been about to rush over to try and stop him, but the man had let the box shatter
on the ground, and what came next had been far more horrific than she could ever imagine.

When the box fell, it did not just shatter, but became a ball of light that ticked with glowing
bursts. The men that stood proudly in their disguises did not seem alarmed as the heat burned
their skin, they did not scream as the ball of light grew with each second that passed.

In seconds, the ball of light expanded into an explosion unlike anything she'd ever witnessed,
one so big its flames quickly reached the top of the warehouse, making the space around
them shake violently.

Whatever gas had been around had been for this purpose, to feed the explosion.

Brook spared a look at the civilians running behind them, only to see they would not make it
out at the rate this thing was expanding. In fact, Brooklyn was not entirely sure she and Steve
would either....shit.

Instead of running, Steve grabbed onto her arm and shouted above the loud booms of the
explosion coming towards them, "Use your power, contain the flames!"

Brooklyn panicked, looking at the sheer size of the explosion, which was way more fire that
she'd ever produced. She certainly had never contained something like this either, or at all!

Despite the destruction coming towards them, Brook glanced up at Steve, not bothering to
hide the panic in her eyes as she yelled, "I don't know how! Thats too much!"

The clouds of heat and blue glowing smoke neared closer and closer.

She helplessly extended out her hands, trying to redirect the fire, even looking for a
connection of sorts. The alien weapons were made from either the tesseract or Loki's staff,
the army that attacked New York had somehow mastered the ability to use their energy to
make these weapons, so perhaps she could find a similarity between her power and this.
Right?

But Brook felt nothing, was barely able to keep her own flames from bursting out in fear to
add to the destruction, much less redirect them. It was too much...and they were all going to
die.

This was not a danger she could fight or shoot, and she would loose against it.

Steve was still yelling beside her, sounding like he was deep underwater as he said, "Brook!
The building will blow, do it!"
She heard the screams of the people behind them, felt their helplessness and fear with her
own as she tried, really tried to will the explosion to stop. Even when she attempted to
envision the particles in the air like Xavier said, the ones she was supposed to be able to
manipulate, the explosion just drew nearer.

Brook wasn't even thinking of herself in that moment, all she could worry about was how
deviated Nat would be when news of their death broke out, how her family, team...how
Damian would take her death. That was, if the others out on missions hadn't been similarly
tricked.

Gods, maybe Nat and Peter were already dead somewhere, and...dad and Lena...gods.

Brooklyn screamed off the top of her lungs as she tried to uselessly get the explosion to stop.
She only felt her gauntlets and suit melt with the effort, which only managed to summon
small flames of her own.

She was starting to feel the heat from the explosion, felt sweat dribble down her temples and
the lure of death drawing nearer.

Brook almost begged Steve to run, hoping his super-serum-induced body might give him a
chance at escape. But then she heard him curse, and she was hoisted over his shoulder as
Steve ran ay speeds impossible for a normal human.

They didn't make it far, but Brooklyn was shocked when he let her down and crouched on the
floor, that was until she noticed he was removing a few metal panels. He urged her inside
what looked to be a series of ducts under the ground, places usually meant to deal with air,
water, or fumes.

She'd hesitated, looked to the people too far away from them to be shoved into the ducts,
even if it was not a guaranteed safe spot. Steve saved her the effort of trying to call or run to
them, because as the explosion picked up speed, he quickly threw her in, then himself,
vibranium shield covering their heads as his large body moved to cover her own.

Brooklyn was sure she was still trying to fight him, trying to get to the people who'd be killed
once large gusts of flames passed through them.

Then the explosion arrived above them. The heat itself was almost unbearable, but no flame
touched them. What was worse came when the structure above them began to falter at the
impact.

She could hear as the building came crashing above them, as the floors of the abandoned
Movie Theatre crumbled with the force of the all consuming explosion. Brook was numb, but
she could hear Steve scream if effort as he tried to keep that shield above their bodies,
keeping all rubble and danger from them.

It could've been seconds, or hours, Brook was not sure when the sounds of destruction had
stopped. She could only feel the air becoming thinner, the faint sting of a few scrapes on her
legs, and the outmost grief at knowing those innocents above had not survived...all thanks to
her.
It had been a long time since she'd killed, even longer since she'd failed to rescue a civilian
life, and it felt worse than any pain she could ever be bestowed.

Steve had asked if she was hurt, gently shaking her even when his voice held nothing but fear
that she'd somehow died. Brook had only managed a few weak nods before he began trying
to dig them out of their hole.

By some miracle, most of the rubble had not fallen on top of them, made it easier to get to
stable ground.But once at the surface...the place was a mess.

They were no longer underground, but in the middle of a large crater with no roof or ceiling
atop their heads. Everything was ashes, little more than broken bits of stone and metal all
around them.

Steve must've been satisfied with her ability to remain standing, because despite the cuts on
his forehead and arms, he decided to go out to look for any survivors, looking considerably
more stable than she was.

He knew just as well as Brooklyn did that no one could've survived that blow, but she let him
go either way. She managed all but a few steps, coughing on fumes and smoke before she let
her numb body pause.

Brook barely felt herself collapse onto her knees as she beheld at the smoke and destruction
around her.

She was not a stranger to death or gore, but seeing the two bodies now before her, still and
unmoving that had somehow been thrown all the way here...it almost made bile rise up in her
throat. With shaking hands, Brooklyn leaned forward to press her hands to their bleeding
injuries, even though she knew there were too many and that the man and woman were
already dead.

It occurred to her that the severity of what that explosion could've done to her and Steve
paled in comparison to the horror of the lives lost. It was all her mind could focus on, even
when she'd just brushed past death itself.

She could only look at the bodies before her.

It wasn't until Steve had moved far away that Brook let herself shed a tear, two, three, then let
her flames surround her in a cocoon of shame that expanded in the middle of the crater, let
them rise up as she cried thinking on the men, women, and the child that had put their trust in
heroes and had died for it.

On and on they burned, without harming her or the bodies before her. Brook let the flames
grow until they rose far above her, until they turned blue with wild heat.

She only painfully extinguished the flames when she heard Steve scream for her name, but by
then she was tired..so tired she barely registered being carried out of the crater and onto an
awaiting Quinjet.
Brook heard more than saw the wails of sirens rushing to the scene. They'd made it to the
Quinjet by then, had likely become invisible and gotten airborne. Then she was handed over
to another pair of arms as Steve left in a rush to the piloting area.

Brooklyn was almost shocked to see it was Wanda who held her now, clad in simple
everyday clothes, looking as distraught as the teen felt. Wanda who had done her best to not
be around Brook since seeing her past. Wanda who had done her best never to have to touch
Brooklyn again.

Maybe she was hallucinating after all.

The Stark knew she should move, go to the monitors to try and warn the others of the trap,
see if anyone else had been attacked. But instead, she could only stay in Wanda's arms
uselessly, could barely keep her own eyes open or work past the ringing in her ears.

Not even the relief of breathing fresh air stirred energy into her body.

She couldn't help but whisper "Are you sure you can stand being by me, Maximoff?"

Wanda flinched, but looked sadly down at Brook when setting her down on a row of seats.

"I'm sorry for staying away. We can wort it out later, but right now you need to regain control
of the power before your emotions take hold of it" she said, "I heard what happened, I know
what its like, but you need to control it"

Sure enough, small flickers of flames remained on her fingertips. So she focused on Damian,
her anchor, trying not to think of what he might say when he found out she had killed people.
She focused on the lazy afternoons in the apartment, his rare smiles with hidden dimples, and
the reassurance of affection and trust each kiss meant.

She had a feeling her sudden exhaustion was being enhanced by Wanda's magic, a last
attempt at keeping her powers from killing them all in that second. That's why she did not
fight the lure of sleep. But somehow, the guilt of what had happened remained in her mind in
the land of dreams.

****

Hours later, Brooklyn was awake in another Quinjet (they'd been transferred from one to the
other mid-air with Wanda's help while Brook was carried over by Steve), one of those meant
for medical support.

Or should she say, barely awake.

Wanda sat beside her, tendrils of red smoke coming from her hands as they moved towards
Brook's temples. The Scarlet Witch was keeping her calm, forcing her mind to relax was
more like it.

A necessary measure.
Maximoff mentioned the nurses were almost burned when Brooklyn woke up an hour ago.
Brook's abilities were going out of control, being driven by the strong emotions coursing in
her mind, just as Xavier had always warned about.

It was the Scarlet Witch that remained in the medical section of the Quinjet with her most of
the time, using her abilities to keep Brook's mind as calm as possible.

It reminded her of the tales dad had mentioned, of a time when Wanda was not an Avenger,
but allied with a murderous robot of Tony's own creation.

According to dad, Wanda had done quite the number on the Avenger's minds, bringing up
their fears with that magic of hers, letting that fear play in their minds. Even the usually
composed Natasha Romanoff had been unable to shake it off right away. Only now, instead
of Brooklyn being shown her greatest fears, she was calmed with that same magic, one that
sang in similarity to her own abilities thanks to the Tesseract and Loki's Scepter.

So Brook let the series of Sokovian lullabies play in her mind, did not fight against the magic
once.

Eventually, even with Wanda in the room, Brooklyn had asked the closest agent that had
come into the room what the situation was. She'd asked if anyone had survived the blast.

The man had looked quite pitiful as he mentioned only her and Steve had made it out
relatively unscathed, but the Captain was currently getting treated for his own injuries
however minor they were.

Brooklyn wondered just how much Grandpa Steve's shield and superhuman genetics had kept
him safe. He'd seemed fine the last time she'd see him, physically at least. The doctor had
mentioned the Captain was healing quickly, but was mostly busy speaking to the UN panel
that had sent them to that mission.

Yelling was more like it, she could hear his muffled voice all the way across the Quinjet.

She knew Steve's reasoning for defying the accords long ago had been so the government
wouldn't have any say in where or when heroes get to operate. Brooklyn still saw how much
Steve hated that he was not only on 'lockdown' at the compound, but that he still felt the
safest hands were within the Avengers themselves.

Perhaps he was right, was likely making today's situation known as a point in his favor.

As Brooklyn got a few more routine tests done (in which the doctor thankfully never
bothered to question why a Stark had been at the mission), she wondered just what the quiet
Wanda was making of this. She too had been in defiance of the accords, wore a tracker on her
ankle because of it.

Thankfully, probably for both their sakes and everyone else in this Quinjet, Wanda did not
bring up any sort of conversation to work through their differences. Brooklyn was blessed
with relative silence as she got a few cuts stitched and some bruises healed.
Not long after the doctors finished, an agent dropped by to mention every other group from
the mission had been warned of the trap, that they were all safe and had managed to take
precautionary actions before making it into their own buildings.

Dad was safe...so were her sestras and Peter.

But thanks to the UN panel, they could've been dead.

What good was there in looking around for who to blame though? The negligence she'd
shown over expanding the limits of her power had gotten people killed. Maybe thats why
Brooklyn refused to do anything more than necessary, not that her doctors complained.

Eventually the quiet grew to be too much, and despite the calm in her veins, she'd stabbed a
wound in her heart by asking for a report of all the registered dead. The agent had only
hesitated for a few minutes before bringing the latest police files on a simple tablet.

Brook had looked at their files, memorized their names. She kept the guilt of their deaths
close to her heart, even with Wanda shooting her a pitiful gaze across the room.

She'd spent the rest of the flight getting more cuts treated, checked for any concussions, all
while she remained almost numbly still in her dirty SHIELD suit as Wanda poured more
happy scenes from The Dick Van Dyke Show, a clear favorite of Wanda's.

All to keep the fire at bay.

She also brought up some random memories from Brook's own reservoir, little things like
school lunch hours, game nights...memories that made Brooklyn realize Wanda wasn't
dwelling too deep into who she was, perhaps out of her own fear.

Still, Brook did not let the blood from her hands be cleaned, kept the doctors from touching
her as much as she could, pretending not to notice their flinching when she asked them to
back away in a voice higher than a whisper.

Thankfully, the silence remained until the Quinjet docked somewhere rather unexpected.

They had not arrived at the Avengers compound like the teen had expected, but rather landed
on the large helicarrier she'd once boarded long ago. They were high up in the air, but the
place was so big that she barely even noticed or cared.

Though she heard Steve complaining on the other side of the door, an escort of seven guards
came to fetch her. To 'escort HER safely' to a place she could rest.

It came as little to no surprise that her safe place was not a casual room. Still, Brooklyn
brushed a now horrified Wanda aside, letting the men and women in SHIELD suits much like
her own surround her like a criminal, trying to be subtle about pointing their guns her way.

Wanda and Steve were forced to stay behind to wait for Fury, but Brooklyn had seen
something like recognition flash on Wanda's face at the sight of Book's escort. The teen had
certainly noticed Steve's anger at the sight, heard as he commanded the guards not to hurt her.
The SHIELD guards led her silently through the empty halls, but Brooklyn was much more
focused on keeping her emotions calm now that Wanda was not at her side.

Being escorted like a villain only served to remind her of what she'd done, or rather, had been
unable to do. She was a danger, one that needed to be treated as such, so when she was led to
a large room with a large cylindrical-like glass cell in its center, Brooklyn fought back her
own horror at the sight and just made her way in.

It was spacious to say the least, equipped with a small cot and table but not much more than
that.

What made her heart sink was not how the cell looked, but how it felt. The hold on her fire
felt...muffled, painfully extinguished. It took a bit of panicked looking at the control center
outside the cell to figure out why.

This was no ordinary cell, but one made to keep her abilities at bay.

Thats why Wanda had been dismissed, because she was not needed.

It should've been a given that SHIELD would take one look at her abilities before creating
some kind of counter measure. Hell, Brook had already been planning to make one of her
own. But for this to have been in use now, it had to have been built long ago.

Somehow, the thought of that stung a little, even when she understood the practicality of it
all.

The scary part was that this cell worked like a Photon Inhibitor, a device that could limiting
the amount of energy she could emit. Just as she and Harley had once discussed. Not like it
was a very personalized idea, any scientist with a brain and proper SHIELD clearance
could've come up with that solution, but the fact that it had been built in the first place was as
painful as the pressing feeling it had on her.

But the flames did not arise with the panic in her heart, that in in itself should've been a relief,
and it was...until she got her first visitor.

Of course Steve Rogers would be the first to come see her.

He looked like he'd barely had time to sort out his own grief and emotions as he came into
the large room with a tray of food. Leave it to sestra's gentle boyfriend to worry about
Brooklyn getting hungry at a time like this.

He stopped before the cell, looking up at one of the many cameras in the room for some sort
of permission, which only granted him a small opening at the bottom of the cell to place the
tray through.

Brooklyn did her best to hide the pinprick-like pain the cell gave her as she went to retrieve
the small servings of mashed potatoes, warm soup, and a styrofoam cup of tea.

Though Steve looked as disheveled as she, the teen still tried to discretely wipe her bloody
hands on her poor suit, only now realizing all her weapons had been (understandably)
confiscated.

Her 'grandfather' made no move to mention the cell or the blood as he took a seat before her
on the other side of the glass cell to properly face her. There was something almost comical
about seeing the great Captain America sitting criss-crossed and bandaged before her, but she
didn't much feel like smiling right about now.

So she mustered up a small smile of thanks and dove into her food, even if it all tasted like
nothing but ash. Steve said nothing as she picked and moved around the food on her tray, and
likely because of all the cameras on them, he merely whispered, "Not hungry, kid?"

She shook her head tiredly.

Steve seemed to take a few seconds to gather his words, and after a long sigh, he explained
with pain in his bright blue eyes, "I told them not to do this, but I guess it can't be helped. But
I actually came to apologize before your dad gets here and bites the heads off everyone on
this Quinjet. I'm sorry for pushing you when I know full well you are still working on your
powers and how to manage them. I threw that command at you, asking for more than I
should've"

Brooklyn looked up at him with wide eyes.

She'd expected a talk about working on her 'powers', maybe a lecture about not following
orders. That's what Ivan would've done...actually, he would've done worse than that.

But an apology?

"I could've done it," Brooklyn whispered, tracing the rim of her cup, "Xavier says I should be
able to..."

Steve shook his head immediately.

"Maybe one day you will," he said, "but but not yet. What happened today is not your fault,
because it was never within your skillset to deal with that sort of explosion"

Brooklyn was about to argue that in theory, she could've done something about it, that if she'd
bothered expanding on her abilities these past few months, taking risks to experiment with
them, maybe she would've been better equipped.

Brook wanted to say that it was her job to save those people. That in all the time she'd spent
as a hero, she'd yet to deal with a civilian casualty...until today. She was supposed to save
everyone, that was the job after all.

How spectacularly she'd failed...

Steve beat her to it when he placed an ash-filled hand on the glass as if he could reach out to
her.

His eyes softened as he said, "Brook...this job...we try to save as many people as we can, that
doesn't always mean everybody. But if we can't find a way to live with that, then next time
 maybe nobody gets saved. Ok?"

Brook knew he was right, she knew damn well that the Avengers had suffered civilian losses
before. Hell, today's criminals that had set up the bomb had mentioned loosing loved ones!

But it was different because...

She took a breath, setting down her cup to look at the smeared remnants of dried blood on her
hands, "I just...it reminded me of when I used to kill. I swore I was done, that no lives would
end around me anymore. I got too used to saving everybody, let the whole hero of Queens
thing get to my head"

Before Steve could give her another inspirational talk, Brooklyn straightened her posture,
tried to pull herself together as he'd suggested. So she told him she'd get over it eventually,
that it was just the shock of the moment.

Steve did not seem to buy it one bit, but nodded regardless at her pitiful attempt.

He quickly made it to the communications radio trying to beg for her release from the cell,
but the SHIELD council had issued a command even Captain America could not override.

Brooklyn Stark was to stay in the cell until her 'powers' were under control.

She barely listened to Steve arguing against it, but eventually tried to convince him she was
fine staying in there for the time being. She'd also begged him to leave her alone for a while,
something that took a bit of convincing, but eventually Steve went to make sure all the other
missions had gone well.

That had been an unknown mistake.

Being alone had not been a relief, but a curse. She was too lost in her own thoughts, thinking
of the screams of those who died, of the heat of the passing explosion...all of it.

It had come as the greatest surprise of the day when her fire had returned in the cell, fueled
by the unpleasant thoughts. It started out small, but amidst her panic it grew and grew.

Someone on the speakers was telling her to calm down, that the mechanics of the cell were
not strong enough yet to hold her fire at bay for long.

Boy had that person been right.

Chapter End Notes

(Cover art by 02png and made by Maisy)

 Power
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Brooklyn POV-

As her fire grew, Brook came to the realization that this cell was not entirely made for her. It
was nothing but a work in progress, one SHIELD had foolishly deemed enough to keep her
in control.

This had originally been a cell made to keep the Hulk captive, but was given modifications
like the ones she and Harley had talked about. Amidst the burning around her, Brook
wondered if they was a better cell for her somewhere as well...wondered why she was not
there now.

A shame considering that with her emotions in shatters, her flames had manifested beyond
Brooklyn's control.

The fire had expanded for hours, remaining within the confines of the sturdy glass somehow.
Brooklyn had the vague memory that Steve had stopped by to try and help, that Yelena, dad,
Nat, and Peter had arrived at some point as well.

The relief of their being ok was only dimmed by the fact that she could not see them past the
blue flames around her. No matter what they said, how much they tried to make her feel
better, the flames burned and burned to the point that the alarms of the room became nothing
more than a constant melody to go along with the chaos of her expanding power.

Maybe the flames grew due to her worry for them, the fear that they would judge her for not
saving those hostages. Perhaps she just feared hurting them. Either way, no matter how much
she tried to fight it off, the heat only grew.

Usually her flames were like any of a kindling fire, if not a bit odd by the smoke like quality
of them only she seemed to see. Now they were something else. The once restrained bursts of
light that helped Brook fly had turned into a lighter blue shade that made her sweat from her
place kneeling in the middle of the cell.

They burst out of her body in pulses, as if in tandem with her heartbeat. Anytime she recalled
what happened hours ago, the blue flames would explode all around the small chamber, but
never once burned her, keeping a protective bubble around Brook as if they too did not want
to touch the murderer of those innocent people.

Funny, there was a time when death only bothered her like the pinprick of a needle on a
finger, when she could've killed hundreds and only suffered half a restless night. Now that
guilt was eating her alive despite Steve's words of comfort earlier.
All Brook could do now was lay alone in this small prison of her own making, trying to
distract her mind with work or the impending proximity of school on Monday.

Seeing as though she was stuck in this prison atop the helicarrier, Damian would not be able
to come. Perhaps the absence of her anchor was more unsetting that Brook led on. She
wondered if he too had heard of what happened. She knew better by now than to think he
would judge her negatively for what occurred...but the flames didn't find comfort in that at
all.

Brook had the vague sense of Yelena reading texts from the team when no one else was in the
room. She had whispered of Damian's worry, that he was thinking of sneaking in if things did
not improve. Even if it risked a war between the Justice League and the Avengers, he'd do it.

Of course he would. Had things been reversed, Brooklyn would've risked it all to be a
comfort by his side. But as far as Yelena mentioned, he was still not aware of all that
happened. Like the media, Damian only knew an old building had blown up taking innocent
lives with it.

He did not know of her failure to stop that bomb.

Still, Yelena assured all was well with the other missions, that no one had been injured. Those
held hostage had been saved, and no more bombs had gone off.

Right now, her family just wanted her back. They were worried for Brooklyn, and she made
sure to mention they would all be there for her once the power calmed down.

And it did eventually.

For a while, Brook thought the flames were starting to recede, but all that changed when Fury
dropped by to visit. At first, she could only hear Fury and dad arguing, but eventually the
Director must've pulled rank because she found herself alone with the man.

Even as the swirling fire obstructed her vision of the familiar man, she could hear his
unamused voice quite clearly past the ringing in her ears. He did not command her to reign in
the fire, likely already worked out she couldn't. He also had not come by to try and console
her in his own way just as everyone else had tried.

Instead, he got right to the point.

As a SHIELD agent, Brooklyn was still supposed to make a debriefing statement of what had
occurred. It mattered little that her abilities were going haywire, Fury wanted the paperwork
done.

The command was clear.

So she told as much as she could, finding little difficulty until she got to the part with the
hostages whose names still haunted her mind. Brooklyn tried to ignore the slight rise in her
flames as she got through the story as quickly as possible.
Not once did she let the tears in her eyes come out, even if they would've likely evaporated
with the heat. She'd held them in since she stepped foot into the Helicarrier. Letting any agent
see her cry seemed like a stupid thing to do, especially because it took her a long time to get
the trust and respect of the agents in the first place.

But as she recounted all that happened, making sure to emphasize there was nothing Steve
could've done, she wanted to do nothing more than to let all those tears of guilt out.

Even when she knew she couldn't be seen, Brooklyn did not dare shed a single tear.

Fury had not scolded her once during the recounting of the day's events. He'd shown little
emotion about it all, only talking when he needed a more detailed description of things like
weapons used or the amount of enemy soldiers.

Methodical. Clinical.

What was worse was that by the end of it all, Brooklyn had received no form of punishment
for her inability to save lives. She'd been prepared to be temporarily suspended, perhaps
revoked of her agent status.

Director Fury had only stated that such a lack of punishment was because she had not killed
willingly, this enhanced ability of hers was treated as a separate entity...as the true culprit.
Even then, he acknowledged that her enhanced abilities were still limited, agreed with Steve
when it came to saying her current skills wouldn't have been able to do a thing.

For whatever reason, that made the flames descend to the ground, pooling like water around
her, ready to rise up like an animal waiting to strike. Though most of the glass looked foggy
or even a bit scorched, Fury did not react to the display of uncontrolled abilities.

He sat calmly on the chair before the glass cage in his usual black trench coat with a
matching eyepatch that may very well hold a real and unharmed eye. He looked calm, if not a
bit bored as he held a recording device in hand, a clipboard with a file on the other.

Brooklyn should be cheering at the fact that the fire had dimmed, should be trying even
harder to make it vanish. But all she could think about was...why would Fury be the one here
right now? Why was he the one doing the debriefing?

When she'd asked, Fury sighed, the sound of the annoyed and exhausted.

"I'm not just here for a debriefing, agent" he said coldly, "The SHIELD council met up with
the UN as soon as you boarded the Helicarrier. They want an evaluation done on you
specifically"

Brooklyn froze, helplessly watching as some of the flames swirling around her rose like wild
waves, still keeping their distance from her.

It was like they acted up in tandem with her emotions when she realized the council ordered
such a command because they thought she was dangerous, perhaps more unstable than just
by the lack of control of her abilities.
The council of SHIELD were amongst the few who knew of Brooklyn's beginnings, they
knew who she had been before she took on the Stark name and took up the mantle of agent
and hero. If anyone would be weary....it would be them.

It was almost comical in a sense. Brooklyn was back in SHIELD custody, seen as nothing
more than a dangerous little girl. Just like she'd been when she'd fled Russia. After everything
she'd been through, Brook ended up right back where she started...the thought alone made her
smirk sadly.

Fury stood from his chair, keeping his eye on her as he added, "Despite my arguments against
this act of stupidity, the council didn't deem a debriefing as enough to wage whether or not,
due to your past, you are killing with intent"

Konechno ya bol'shoy plokhoy ognennyy monstr. Of course, I'm a big bad fire monster, she
thought.

With a tired sigh, Brooklyn did her best to shy away from the circling fire (that still did not
seem to bother Fury) as she nodded her consent. Hopefully the fire could stay low enough
that she'd be able to gaze at her family after this...

It turned out, the questioning was not so much talking as it was watching. Brooklyn quickly
became alarmed when video feed from what looked to be the front of Cap's helmet was
displayed on a large screen outside her cage.

It showed everything...the fighting, the apprehending of criminals (who are all likely dead as
well), even the conversations in their coms were displayed.

If they had the feed to see what happened, why bother questioning if she killed willingly or
not!?

As soon as images of the hostages and the conversations that occurred then showed up,
Brooklyn had the horrifying realization that the council though she might've been faking it.
They...they wanted to see how she would react.

Oh, they got that for sure.

Brooklyn tried her best to not seem like a scared little girl. Tried to convince herself that she
had already seen all of this in person, that it couldn't be that bad. But seeing the faces of those
dead, the fear and hope in their eyes minuted before disaster...it ate at her soul.

All the chaos and destruction...Brooklyn ended up crawling her way between the parting fire
to bang her fists on the glass, begging Fury to stop the feed. He couldn't meet her eyes as the
feed continued, even when she screamed, even when she saw Steve finding bodies after the
explosion, cradling what remained of the little boy in his arms.

Thats when the tears fell, when her throat went raw at the screams she let out.

And so, the flames came back in seconds, this time so strong they were causing growing
cracks on the glass before her, like falling lighting.
But...the cage was supposed to hold, it was supposed to keep a being like the Hulk inside.

As the cracks grew, she finally got a reaction out of Fury. He yelled at her to stop, even as the
flames behind her seemed to have a mind of their own, shooting out at the glass like they
wanted a way out.

Brooklyn stared around in horror, yelling for him to leave.

Fury had barely run out, shouting orders into his hidden com device as the alarms in the large
room went off with flashing red lights as the glass finally shattered before her.

The glass itself seemed to melt before it could even scratch at her skin, and the flames wasted
no time slithering up the sturdy metal walls and pooled at the ground despite the activation of
the sprinklers that only seemed to fill the room with fog and smoke.

It was hot...too hot.

It would burn across the Helicarrier....where her family was.

Brooklyn yelled at the fire, willing it to stop, trying to summon thoughts of Damian into her
mind, but she could only see death of the innocents, feel the smoke kiss her cheeks as it
suffocated her.

In another instance, this might've felt like the end, Brook might've stood on shaky legs to try
and find an exit to hurl herself out of to spare the crew and her family. But she heard a voice,
one that seemed like nothing more than a whisper at first.

Then, it was like an invasive presence in her mind, one she knew all too well. Only the voice
speaking was not Professor Xavier's...it was the other professor with similar mental
abilities...Jean Grey.

Though Brook could not behold the woman with intense red locks and eyes green as a
summer field, she could feel her inside her mind. Jean was whispering rushed greetings and
apologies, then faster than Brooklyn could think to ask for help, the member of the X-men
intensified her power.

Brooklyn's mind seemed like it was no longer her own, not as thoughts were picked out like
papers from a cabinet. Suddenly her vision was gone, and all the teen could see was not the
flames raging around her, but times past playing like a movie.

The first was something simple and recent, Yelena and Brooklyn spending one lazy Saturday
afternoon trying to teach a curious Peter some ballet moves, Harley as their cheering
audience. Then their practice room in the compound vanished like dust, changing into
another memory of Brook soaring through the streets of Queens, her team keeping stride all
around her with smiles on their faces after a successful mission.

There, her fire wasn't deadly or out of her grasp.

Again, like ashes fluttering with a fantom wind, memories of greetings, hugs, goodnights
said, and meals shared with her parents flashed like nothing more than a soothing comfort.
Then she saw herself, Steve, and Wanda cooking in those first few days in the compound,
days training with Uncle Clint and Natasha to build up muscle and push away old killing
instincts.

With each passing memory of days spent with Cassie, nights studying with Peter in the
apartment, video calls with Tanya and MJ in the mornings when an outfit was particularly
difficult to put together, or learning the realm of online games with Ned and Harry, Brooklyn
could feel some of the swirling heat around her body vanish.

She felt Jean Grey let out a metaphysical sigh of relief, but even so, the woman seemed to
proceeded to dig deeper into her mind, searching for memories to pluck for show.

The hold of that power was strong, and were it not for the sheer panic she already had,
Brooklyn might've fought it to keep her memories her own. The woman sensed that fear or
privacy, but merely apologized and promised to keep all she saw to herself before digging
deeper into her mind

Brook saw memories of the day Yelena joined the first family night, of calling Tony and
Pepper her parents that night of her first gala, the day she stood up for Peter at school on her
first day at Midtown.

These memories felt stronger, like they were treasured moments Brooklyn kept close to her
without even knowing. In those, she felt all the emotions she'd felt then, almost as if she
traveled back in time towards them.

It was no surprise when memories of the founding of her team came about, of going to the
fair with Peter, and meals shared with Aunt May or Brook's new grandparents.

Then Jean went deeper into her mind, to a place that Brooklyn felt was at the core of her
memories. The memories she hid the most on instinct. The first was of the night she saved
Damian Wayne from the Joker's clutches, that rainy night she took him home....

It wasn't until she made it to the garden surrounded by beds of roses that the Stark felt the
body cradled in her arms begin to stir. Brook removed his mask, and when Damian opened
his green eyes and the first thing he was was her, understandably, he freaked out.

"Don't move you spaz, or I'll drop you amongst the thorns so your injuries will worsen"
Brook said, trying not to show or process the relief she felt at his being awake.

Damian did stop his trying, but fastened an arm behind her neck for further support as he
looked at the surroundings with recognition. Despite his voice being weak, he still had the
nerve to whisper, "I don't like to be touched, Stark. Much less being carried so indecently"

Brooklyn laughed at his seriousness. He'd likely rather die on the floor than be carried by her,
which is why she teased, "Don't worry my bride, we're almost at your haunted mansion"

Then...the day of their first kiss at the mall appeared next....

"You demon! Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable. They are asking
around for us," she said, pointing at the men stopping everyone that passed by towards the
entrance, "they will leave us alone this way, and I know that you hate physical contact and all
but you're gonna have to make this one sacrifice"

Damian's frown deepened, but those forest green eyes suddenly turned to her lips, then back
to her eyes.

Their proximity was almost suffocating at this point, even when they both snuck a glance to
see the men were only six steps away. Brooklyn was about to risk a negative reaction from
the Wayne while she pulled him down to her lips....but it was Damian, with an intense gaze
and warm hands on her cheeks as leaned down and with eyes shut, that closed the space
between them.

Jean seemed to struggle grasping these memories, understandably so since Brooklyn wanted
to guard them with her life. But the mutant was strong, if not determined, as she pushed
forward.

The next vision was of the day of her and Damian's school punishment, as they left the
Building Blocks Academy both looking exhausted but not bothering to fight one another as
they cruised through the streets of Queens...

A few blocks out was when her stomach realized it hadn't had a proper meal in a while. So
she looked around the street vendors until she found one that seemed promising. Pulling
Damian to the side of the walkway, she told him to wait for a moment before rushing over to
the vendor.

At the very last minute, Brooklyn caved and bought Damian something, but she did consider
spitting on it before making it back to his side. When she threw the foiled wrapped food his
way and he beheld her opened burger, he looked like he was about to throw the food back at
her.

She only shot his food a look, urging him to unwrap it.

When he did, he was face to face with a meatless pizza.

"No meat anywhere on that thing, I made sure. I even asked for no cheese in case that was
out of the question for you" she huffed, moving to walk back into the flow of human traffic
with the demon by her side.

"You remembered I'm vegetarian?" he asked above the noise of the crowd, still eyeing the
food as if it might hold poison.

Brooklyn nodded, "I didn't want you to throw up your food on me. Don't think I still don't
hate you though, you owe me a buck twenty five asshole"

Still, the asshole finally bit into his food, and though Damian claimed he didn't like the
greasy food of the streets of Queens, he finished the whole thing before Brooklyn was
halfway through her burger.
It didn't feel like Jean was curious or purposefully trying to figure out why a Wayne was in so
many memories. Brook couldn't tell, but she could guess those memories with Damian were
making a difference in her control, because the next few were all days of the past shared with
her Dami.

The next memories showed Brook and Damian reluctantly cuddling close at night in the
farmhouse to fight off the cold, Dami's hands on her scarred back.

"Why are you touching my scars? Not enough to look at them from a distance?" Brooklyn
whispered against his neck, where her head was resting on his good shoulder.

The teen paused his roaming hands.

"It bothers you"

A question she realized.

With a sigh, she replied, "Not really. I just don't know why you find them intriguing"

The calloused hands continued roaming the lines and dips on her back just as she found
herself tracing a little healed wound by his neck, as if someone had placed a knife against his
pulse point once.

He too had seen horrors, likely felt indescribable pain as she had. Despite his usual dislike for
touching, he seemed to be either too focused on her own wounds, or just gave up caring after
having her practically above his body.

Just as Damian began tracing the last whip scar Brook's mother had given her, the teen
whispered back, voice now as tired as her own, "Scars tell stories. Those stories tell more
about a person that words or actions. There are so many stories on your body, that is what
intrigues me"

The dark bedroom faded like dust, bringing another flashback in her apartment, Brook laying
on the floor poisoned with Peter freaking out beside her as Damian rushed to her side...

"Where is the kit, Brook?" Peter asked from the distance, seemingly still panicking.

Damian had removed his mask by now, keeping his gaze on her arm and the bundle curtains
before answering, "Its in the hall bathroom you idiot, hurry! Top drawer"

"You remembered that huh?" Brook whispered, "What are you doing here?"

Damian scoffed, placing her aching head on his folded legs as he replied, "You seemed to be
in trouble, what else was I supposed to do?"

"How did you sneak past your brothers anyway?" Brooklyn said, bitting back a scream of
pain as she added, "I thought no matter what you did to escape the manor, they always caught
you"
Her nemesis shrugged, "They did catch me sneaking out, but this time I went through them.
Jon is busy keeping them at bay, they don't know I'm here"

He had fought his brothers to come help?

Had Brooklyn not been under immense pain, she might've made a joke about that, or maybe
even dared to thank him. She'd assumed that after the way their talk ended an hour or so ago,
that Damian would've forgotten about her entirely.

The day Damian had come to the Avengers Compound flashed briefly, like Jean was sorting
through memories unsure which to pick.

"Have you been dancing with Miss Romanoff? Your feet must be killing you again!" Peter
mused, pulling back to carry her with ease towards the table containing the stereo, the one
Damian was sitting by.

Of course, Peter still worried over the worn and abused injuries on her feet, especially after
dancing. So he always made a point to take care of her feet afterwards, knowing full well
Brooklyn wouldn't do it for herself.

Only, Damian seemed quietly surprised as Peter pulled out a kit from the cabinet behind her,
then began to bandage her sore and bleeding feet. When the Wayne's gaze did not move from
her feet, she said mockingly, "It's the price to pay for looking so graceful"

The demon looked away then, suddenly pushing Peter aside while mumbling the teen was
bandaging her feet wrong. Brook was about to argue Damian couldn't possibly do any better,
but he surprised her and Peter when he confidently began re-doing the bandages with ease.

"Since when do you know how to do this stuff?"Brook asked, trying not to gawk at the way
his calloused fingers held her feet steady. Even Peter was leaning over to get a better look.

"After the attack at your appointment I asked Alfred to teach me basic first aid procedures. It
seemed only logical I learn such a vital skill since we're out in the city being idiots all the
time" Damian said, low enough to indicate he was weary of being heard.

Then family day flashed by, an image of Brook standing with her dad atop a podium beside
Bruce and Damian...

"Not bad Wayne" she said, "It seems we truly are evenly matched after all"

The Wayne scoffed, letting go of the medal as soon as the camera flashing had stopped before
them.

"We'll see who wins next year" he replied coldly and with a typical sneer. Thanks to her
mental catalog of 'Damian's microscopic expressions' , Brooklyn knew he actually wasn't as
annoyed as he let on. He was complacent for once.

She couldn't help but smile at that, if only because the demon was always full of surprises.
Life with him around certainly wasn't the least bit dull. At the sight of her quirked lips,
Damian rolled his eyes her way, but whispered, "Keep the medal. I'd say you earned it after
putting Mr. Osborn in his place, he's always been a retched man"

With that Damian hopped off the podium, with a very confused father following suit as if the
Batman couldn't actually believe Damian walked away without at least half of the medal
they'd earned.

Then various moments from the day of Flash's halloween party seemed to play out like a
soothing blanket over her senses. Brooklyn could almost feel Jean's confusion as her prized
memories played on.

Brooklyn had been far too lost in her euphoria, the feeling of complete ease and calm, to
question herself as she dragged Damian to the dance floor, draping her green Slytherin tie
around his neck while they swayed to the music like that day back at the club.

This time though, Brooklyn was under a rain of confetti as she held on to Damian's neck so
she wouldn't loose him amongst the bumping of the students. He'd seemed tired enough to
comply and place his hands on her back, pulling her close as he traced the scar lines he
shouldn't have been able to feel under the shirt and robe layers of her costume.

It was as if he'd memorized where they were.

So unlike those around them who were acting like hormonal beasts, Brook and Damian
seemed to come to the mental understanding to just sway in place to the unfamiliar pop song,
using it as a means to relax after all the shenanigans they had just gotten into.

It was calming, relaxing enough that despite the dozens of students around them (all of which
were far to drunk to process or even remember this later) Brooklyn rested her head against
Damian's chest, listening to the sound of his heart with the beat of the music.

Flash HAD come by to try and get Brooklyn to spare him a dance then, but Damian had just
shot the drunk teen a glare, threatening him with Brook's wand until someone else had pulled
Flash to a dance.

What was with Damian and being a threatening drunk to teenage boys?

...

It wasn't until she managed to secure Damian into the passengers seat, while she took the one
beside him, that Brook dared to ask, "You stole the car we stole? Really? Why!? You could've
bought seven of these, but new and in perfect condition"

Damian swiveled his face her direction, and with the most serious expression possible, he
explained, "I did not s-steal it, I found the owner and payed him four times what this piece of
crap was worth. This is mine"

He'd what!?

Leaning agains the steering wheel, Brooklyn almost shouted, "You bought this car!? I thought
you said you hated it!"
"Its garbage" he agreed, then with a far away look added, "But it's ours..."

...

This would change everything, but somehow, Brooklyn knew deep down that things had been
changing for a while now, and perhaps it wasn't all bad.

She knew their friendship would not be like the others she had. Brook wouldn't be able to go
shopping with Damian like she did with Tanya. He wouldn't tell her silly jokes like Harry did,
nor would he be the kind of friend in her life to say endless praises like Peter or Ned.

Their friendship would be unique. New.

It would be one with a foundation of ultimate trust with things that Brook couldn't discuss
with her other friends, even Peter. This friendship would be a secret in the dark like this
room, but one to turn to when the world got weird and only someone like Damian could help.

Their friendship would be one of understanding, not just of the past, but also of pushing one
another forward to a better future. There would be no judgment amongst them. He'd be the
friend to turn to when the world seemed to crumble, someone she could count on to keep up
with her.

One look into his eyes, and Brooklyn knew he not only understood all that, but agreed.

With a smile, Brooklyn said, "I guess since we're friends now you're gonna have to find
something else to call me, beloved nemesis just won't cut it anymore. That would be mean
and hurt my poor heart"

Despite her teasing, Damian seemed to seriously consider her point.

He clutched her hand gently, but those green eyes of his were strong and sure as he replied,
"Then you are not my nemesis anymore, just my beloved"

There were brief flashes of other moments Brooklyn hadn't found herself think back on
lately, of the day of the Romea and Julian school play, the first time they'd had to pretend to
be enemies in public.

Memories of secret notes passed in class, competitions during gym, and secret meetings in
her apartment all hurled rapidly across her mind, halting at the memory of the day they'd
faced off against Harley Quinn one dark night at school.

"One minute and thirty seconds!" Jon shouted somewhere behind Brook, but she only cradled
Damian's still body closer to her own, whispering the words that had once been too hard for
her to say. "I'm sorry" she whispered, over and over as she leaned down to rest her forehead
against his own.

Just as she was about to give the order for everyone to leave, Brooklyn felt something tickle
her nose.

Air.
It was air, constant busts of it against her face.

Pulling back as quickly as she could, Brook placed a hand under Damian's nose, unable to
fight the relieved sob when she realized it was his breathing, steady and true. When she
reached a hand to his chest to feel his heart, Brooklyn noticed the material of his jacket was
burnt where he'd been hit, but instead of there being a whole through his chest, there was
only metal.

...

Brooklyn didn't give a damn about a bomb or who could be watching, she barely gave
Damian any time to situate what had occurred when she pulled him into a bone crushing hug.

"You're not dead" she whispered, "I would killed you if you died! Don't ever do that to me
again you selfish prat"

Damian was still for a few seconds as she felt his fingers move to the place the vibranium
dagger still rested, then he wound his arms around her back, strong and steady unlike her
shaking appendages.

He traced her scars one by one as he whispered by her ear, "I'm not so easily killed, and your
tears are getting my jacket dirty"

Then the day he came to her rescue flashed by, the feeling of her emotions hazy like the day
she'd been saved and had been too weak to do much...

"You found me, Dami" she said weakly, her arms becoming looser around his neck.

Damian fixed them back into place, still keeping in stride as he huffed back gently, "You still
owe me a dance beloved, I couldn't let you leave"

Memories of a day spent at the supermarket, lazing around her home, sharing a meal at Stark
industries, going to the museum with mom and Damian, sneaking into his own home for a
dance, of sharing a similar dance outside the school gym as the first snow of the year fell
around them. There were kisses shared in clubs, the two taking care of baby Rosa through the
new and the old, Damian never shying away from her flames since their first appearance,
gazes that became acquainted with one another more and more as time went by, as Damian
became more than just a friend.

Those memories were strong, the emotions so real it almost left like she was there, it almost
felt like the heat around her was almost gone....

Deeper into herself, Jean found another memory, one that Brooklyn recognized immediately
as she noticed the familiar building the League had used in the Bermuda Triangle, noted her
traditional Russian attire and Damian's sturdy and elegant armor....

A figure emerged from the wooden doors before Brooklyn, clad in the same armor as those
from the League, but wearing the same blood red cape as Talia. His face was impassive, eyes
cold and calculating as those moving in and out the door went to their knees in reverence.
Brooklyn tried as hard as she could not to freak out, both in joy and worry as she beheld
Damian walking towards them, katanas strapped to his hips, pointed black boots leaving
prints on the snow covered floor.

He too seemed to be fighting back his own surprise as he approached, their eyes locking,
green to brown.

Brook had no idea what Damian was doing here, how he'd arrived. He looked so different,
every inch the heir to the League and no trace of the teen who kept a drawing book at hand,
who cherished his dog and preferred a classy turtle neck.

Then again, Brooklyn was certain she didn't exactly look herself either, with the passive face,
blank eyes and Russian attire.

It was like 10452 was finally meeting Damian al Ghul since they were a year old.

...

Brooklyn weaved past the masses of people, ignoring the salutes of the Red Room assassins
as she finally found a dark and empty hallway upstairs. When Damian peeked around the
corner, Brook almost let out a sigh of relief.

She did not hesitate to run over to him, smiling when she saw him pick up the pace her way
as well. Damian spread out his arms to welcome her embrace that almost knocked them down
on the floor, but neither cared in that moment.

Brooklyn hugged him with vigor, not caring about the armor around his body as she brought
him close, as she stood on her toes to clutch his face between her hands. He looked just as
frantic as she felt, running his hands along the scars on her back, his green eyes devoid of that
seriousness form back in the eating hall.

"How did you get here?" Brook whispered in his hair when she brought him back into an
embrace, arms winding around his neck.

"You were gone when I went to find you at home, then my mother came to summon me for
this meeting. I knew it was my way to find information on where you might be, I had no idea
that you'd actually be here. If I had known, I would've looked these past three days" he
replied, smoothing back her hair, throwing her headpiece down to the floor.

Brook didn't care, not when Damian was here after he'd tried to find her. Thought it felt like
yesterday to her, she was glad he didn't look upset anymore, none of that mattered now as she
hugged him tight.

...

"I don't want to say goodbye to you, not when I just found you" Damian whispered,
pocketing the necklace and moving their foreheads back together.

She chuckled half-heartedly, fighting her own tears as she replied softly, "Neither do I. But
we've been separated many times already, death's threat standing between us on more than
one occasion. I'm confident that we'll see one another again, even if we aren't people who
believe in faith"

The two stared at one another, coming to a mental agreement.

Their first kiss had been started by Damian at the mall, their second by Brook at the club...for
this last kiss, they both leaned in at the same time, and unlike the passion of the first
two...this one was gentle, full of grief but also acceptance of emotions long denied.

Brooklyn sighed as Damian's lips met her own, as the two danced with expertise and care.
She felt as Damian brought their bodies impossibly closer to one another, as his hands wound
around her back, his warm lips never once leaving her own.

The Stark couldn't help but relish in the feeling despite the outcome of tomorrow.

...

Jean didn't say a thing as memories of her and Damian making it out of the assassins' clutches
played out, she had refrained from saying a thing as Brook and Damian's relationship was
revealed before her mind.

But seeing all those memories, it eased something in Brook. Because yes, there was death in
life, and the guilt of today's events would likely never vanish completely. But there was so
much to life, so much she and Damian were trying to do to make things right along with their
team.

Maybe Steve's words earlier were right. Not everyone would always be saved, but she'd have
to get a hold of herself if she was going to try...if she was going to make the people
responsible pay.

The beauty of what her life had become was a steadying anchor that eased all the heat around
her. It was upon that realization that Jean finally spoke in her mind.

Jean said, "Let the pain go, focus on the good, let it ground you"

So she did, and when Brook opened her eyes, it was with a deep gasp. For a second, it was
like only those good memories existed, and Ivan, deaths, or dangers were irrelevant. She had
enough of herself in check to realize the few remaining flames held her mid room, five feet
off the ground.

Before Brook could worry about the fall or the state of the room, Wanda rushed in from one
of the closed doors, and with her own ruby-red wisps of power, wrapped the remaining
flames like a blanket and smothered them out.

Brook felt that familiarity of Wanda's magic, that power of energy manipulation calling to
Brook's abilities like old friends.

She was so distracted by the feeling and the red of Wanda's eyes that she barely noted Vision
fazing through the wall, and in a blaze of yellow light, the stone in his forehead directed a
laser beam to the small windows in the room, shattering the bullet proof glass in seconds so
Wanda could direct the smoke out of them.

It was the familiar Jean Grey that came into the room as Brook fell, easily levitating the teen
down to the floor's safety even as her knees buckled once she touched down. The two shared
an understanding gaze, and Brooklyn could only nod in thanks for pulling her out of that
grief, something the woman finally smiled at.

Another familiar woman in X-men uniform stepped inside then, summoning a storm whose
rain cooled down the floor and walls Brook had not realized were still on fire.

The dark skinned woman with peculiar white hair then rushed over to drape the silver cape of
her suit across Brook's shoulders. Given all that had happened, Brooklyn had not even
noticed most of her SHIELD suit was gone, even her gauntlets had melted (it was a good
thing she'd left her necklace back at the compound at least).

Brooklyn accepted the cape with a small smile, even when she'd not met Professor Storm for
very long during her times at Xavier's, but the woman had a motherly quality with her mutant
students, a kindness in her eyes that were now directed at Brook.

It eased all worry and shame in her heart, at least enough for Brooklyn to lean her head back
and let the drops of cooling water fall on her face as the others did damage control around
her.

It wasn't long before her family was allowed back in the room once the place was better.

Brooklyn felt tired, her muscles weak and her mind still focused on the joy those memories
of the past had done to steady her. Still, she welcomed her family's group embrace with all
she had, let them fuss over getting her to the hospital room, or getting new clothes and ice to
cool her hot skin.

Dad was the one who carried her along, and Brook had fisted her hands on his oil stained t-
shirt as he wrapped that silver cape around her body tightly with each step in the halls.

"Shit. I don't know what happened...is everyone ok?" Brook asked, surprised to find her voice
hurt when she spoke.

"Its ok" dad said, worried eyes twin to her own smiling down at her as he added reassuringly,
"Everything is fine, Daphne. Fury is a piece of shit and will pay for this, I promise"

She shook her head at that.

Thankfully, mom was not far behind, and even with tears in her eyes, mom squeezed one of
Brook's hands tight as they walked, whispering reassurances of her own that all was ok. Even
if they both knew it was a lie.

Brook barely noticed Yelena, Harley, and Peter being held back by Agent Claire along with
the other Avengers at the door to the hospital wing. She caught their helpless gazes, tried to
look a little less tired as she nodded at them, assuring them all was well.
Only one person was allowed in with mom and dad, and that was Wanda.

Despite her magnificent display of magic earlier, Wanda looked winded and panicked.

None of the doctors in the room had the balls to tell Wanda to back off as she rushed to the
side of the medical bed dad had laid her down on seconds ago. Surprisingly, she came in
begging for forgiveness for keeping a distance since the incident at Wakanda. Wanda even
went as far as shedding a few tears as she apologized for not helping Brooklyn more with her
abilities all this time, especially when Wanda had gone through the same alone once.

Lastly, the Sokovian begged forgiveness for not daring to go into her mind just now to try
and help. If the X-men had not been called over by dad, Brooklyn was now sure Wanda
probably wouldn't have dared to try and pull Brook back from her own fear.

Brooklyn had been far too tired to register most of those apologies, especially when doctors
rushed her to an ice bath that left her shivering for hours. She only hoped the weak nod she
was able to shoot Wanda was enough for the woman to know there was no bad blood
between them.

They were just two girls who had been experimented on, that had powers beyond the
comprehension of the world. They were kindred spirits in that sense, and for that Brooklyn
couldn't blame Wanda for a single thing.

Hours later, Jean's advice to practice with her 'powers' more, still rang in her head. The X-
men had mentioned they'd notify Xavier to see what he thought they could do to help.

For once, Brooklyn did not reject the offer. She'd merely thanked Professor Storm, then in
hushed whispers, asked Jean Grey to please keep those memories to herself. The woman had
sworn no one would hear a thing from her, but that she was glad Brook would have someone
to turn to after this.

Brook knew the woman had kept away from the nasty memories of her past, but she'd likely
seen them. Still, Jean left not looking at the teen with any pity, just one last statement.

"You need not thank us Miss Stark" Jean said, "Your work for the betterment of mutant
treatment is more than enough"

Brooklyn had relaxed back in her covered ice bath, watching as dad came back with snacks
and mom having to hold back Yelena and Harley from sprinting towards Brook.

The teen let them fuss, all the while thinking, hoping that the day she decided to push past the
self imposed limits of her power, some good would come out of it.

Natasha had sat at the edge of that ice bath hours later, telling Brooklyn that enhanced
abilities were just like muscles that needed training to get strong. Perhaps that was right too.

For now, Brooklyn had elected to go back to using the vibranium bracelets Shuri had made
(which someone had to fetch from the hidden spot Brook had left them in at the compound),
even when they made her body cold all the time and would make using her abilities out in the
field a little harder.

But it was a safety precaution until her emotions calmed down, something that Brooklyn felt
she needed to get her mind on the right track again.

Storm had been a strong advocate against that decision, saying that repressing powers could
sometimes be detrimental, physically and mentally. Of course, Brooklyn no longer had the
wish to repress her abilities, she was still Firestar, a 'mutant' in the eyes of the public.

This was just a temporary precaution.

By the time the Helicarrier landed, Brooklyn had asked to be sent back to her apartment.
With the vibranium bracelets, she felt confident her power was in check, enough so to return
to the peace of her home for a while after the long day she'd had.

Her family looked like they might argue, or at least that was until Yelena insisted she could
stay with Brook there for the weekend. Everyone had likely agreed just to get them out of the
compound while they picked a fight with Fury and the council for triggering Brook's powers,
or at least thats what Happy had guessed when he drove them to Queens as midnight pulled
around.

The Avengers HAD seemed angry, like they had a score to settle. Brooklyn could only hope
Fury wouldn't get his head bit off when it had been the council and the UN who'd made a
series of desperate decisions that had led to today's events.

It had been a pleasant surprise to find her apartment was not empty when the three teens
arrived back home, something even Peter and Yelena had been surprised by.

The whole team was there, nervously pacing the living room until they caught sight of them.

In seconds, the three of them were tacked to the floor by Tanya, Harry, Ned, and MJ.

Damian was in his Robin suit, as if he had been planning to go to Brook as Yelena had
explained.

He sat by her side as Peter and Yelena shared tales of their missions, and no one bothered to
ask how Brook's had gone considering the burning collapsed building was all over the news.
They HAD said many words of comfort though, even MJ had expressed her joy at Brooklyn
just being alive.

It had been comforting, being around them after all that happened.

Damian kept a hand intertwined with her own behind their backs, a silent comfort that only
reminded her that it had been the memories they shared together that had brought her back.

Damian. Her anchor.

To her surprise, Damian had not just been sitting here waiting for their return all day. Once
the food they ordered arrived, he explained that just as the Avengers had been tricked into
ambushes, his own family had been as well.

When he arrived at the place Brook had been at, he got a message from his dad that he and
his siblings had been set up on their mission, ambushed by a bunch of men and women with
clown masks and alien weapons.

No one was hurt or killed, but it wasn't until an hour ago that Damian's family realized why
they had all been tricked like this.

"It was a distraction" Damian said angrily from his place seated beside her on the couch,
slowly turning his gaze to everyone in the room seated around the couches as he added,
"While all of this happened today, there was a breach in Arkham Asylum by the Joker
himself"

Harry set down his mug of coffee, hands flying to his messy brown locks as he asked, "Why
would the Joker go through all this trouble to mess with your family and the Avengers? He
almost killed them all just for a simple break in? What...did he leave his baby blanket in there
and wanted it back?"

Brooklyn was already frowning at the severity of Damian's frown, as she noted he wasn't just
mad, but worried.

It was with a voice deep and dark that Damian revealed, "He didn't go in there for an object.
He went in to break out a person...and succeed"

The usually quiet Yelena moved from her place laying against Jon's arm to lean forward and
ask wearily, "Who?"

"Scarecrow"

Even as someone who did not live in Gotham, Brooklyn had heard of that particular name
plenty of times, shuddered at its mention for good reason. Anyone in the world could
confidently say they knew the name, could explain that the Scarecrow was an overly-
obsessive and deranged ex-professor of psychology who possessed a variety of drugs and
psychological tactics, using the fears and phobias of his adversaries against them.

Scarecrow had been all over the news two or so years ago when he and Batman had dueled it
out. Brooklyn couldn't recall a single thing of how that had gone down, had not cared about
Batman enough back then to care, all she knew is that the Bat had put Scarecrow in Arkham
by the ned. In a cell so secure it was rumored to be deep underground.

She'd once heard in the news that he never committed any of his crimes for wealth, but rather
as a form of "research" to further study the effects of fear on humans.

If he was working with the Joker and Cobalus to try and end heroes...things might've just
become more dangerous than ever before.

According to Damian, both the police and his family had been so preoccupied stopping a
series of hostage situations across Gotham to even notice something had gone wrong till
hours after the fact. At which point, all traces of both villains were gone.

It had taken quite some time for everyone to stop cursing, for Ned and Harry to stop shaking.
It wasn't until the boys went to sleep at Peter's apartment and the girls stayed in Brook's
place, that the teen let the words truly sink in.

She had snuck up to the roof with Damian, both of them clad in pjs (Damian had to 'borrow'
some from Peter to not seem suspicious) staring down at the city beyond.

Damian had kept an arm around her shaking form, listening for the past thirty minutes as she
recounted all that had occurred today for him and him only. As expected, Damian did not
judge her for the failure, instead tucking her in closer to his side at the thought of her and the
bomb that had gone off.

Still, after all that, Damian calmly told her how he'd gone to try and find her, found there
were no survivors in the building and had thought the worse until Yelena's message came in
explaining where she truly was. He'd tried to find a trail for a while, attempted to see how the
Joker had gotten weapons there in the first place, but the massive crowds near the destroyed
building made that job impossible.

What he had found was that the surviving weapons were nothing but fakes, that it had been
nothing but a trap.

So he gathered the team in case they needed to do something to either help the rest of them,
or go hunt the Joker themselves.

Since his family was busy trying to find the Joker or Scarecrow now, he had been relatively
undisturbed. Though she did catch him now sending a few texts to Selina, and when she
raised a brow, he merely said his umi had been worried for him.

Brooklyn's muscles had relaxed at the familiar Arabic word, she'd leaned closer into his
embrace as he distracted her with the tale of earlier today, when he'd made peace with his
father's wife. The tale of him letting someone else into his life.

She couldn't have been more happy for him. Truly.

"I hope you don't mind, but the Batmobile is in your garage" he'd added causally afterwards,
earning a quick chuckle from her, especially with how smug he looked at stealing his father's
forbidden property.

"Hope the neighbors didn't see, or they might think I'm a massive Batman fan. I can't live like
that kind of reputation" she'd joked back, even when her voice was still weak and her humor
was more forced than usual.

Damian seemed to sense it, because he insisted the two of them stay a little longer, let her
relax with the light fo the full moon and the noises of life beyond in the city until sunrise,
hugging one another after they had almost been separated for life...
Ra's al Ghul POV-

Ra's was casually leaning on his office chair, staring intently at the feed of the hidden
cameras his 'ally' had set up in various buildings, all in hopes of seeing heroes vanish from
this earth.

Only, no one had died.

Once Captain America had escaped death, the others were warned, and even Bruce and his
allies had managed to walk out alright. It was a shame, but at least the objective of the
operation had been reached.

Scarecrow was a new ally to Cobalus' growing army. Fear personified.

But Ra's didn't care much about that either, not when his focus was on the last minutes of
camera feed from the building Captain America had been in. There had been someone with
him, an agent of SHIELD at first glance...but Ra's was smarter than that.

Even through shadows hid the woman's complexion well, he knew those fighting moves were
from the Red Room, it was unmistakable. Seeing as the Black Widow was in another city
entirely, he could only assume it was someone else who had connections to SHIELD.

Then, he recalled the little girl he'd seen during the raid at the Bermuda Triangle.

Brooklyn Stark.

Yes, thats who that was.

No one else had mentioned it, likely hadn't noticed those precious low quality frames where
flames seemed to be sprouting out the girl's hands before that bomb went off. No one had
likely bothered sending additional spies to the locations Cobalus had chosen to sacrifice,
meaning no one had the additional footage of said girl bursting into flames after the building
was in shambles.

That wasn't even the most interesting part.

He'd gotten readings of peculiar low levels of gamma radiation emanating from Miss Stark,
the same that he'd gathered from the hero Firestar these past months, who he'd originally
deemed a mutant and had only been interested in because she was fighting alongside his
Damian.

It took seconds for it to all come together.

Brooklyn Stark was Firestar, the heiress to the Red Room and Stark Industries. She was a
trained killer, a known hero, and someone who couldn't possibly be a mutant.

Peculiar indeed.

Further research guided him to similar gamma radiation readings he'd once heard of in
passing many years ago. Regardless, Ra's took to documenting everything, found it a useful
habit after living for so many centuries.

In truth, Ivan the Great was a coward, a madman at best, but he'd once been obsessed with
bragging about a new era of black widows to fight under his command, with a new power
that he'd once claimed would not be rivaled.

Ra's al Ghul WAS power. So he'd thought little of Ivan's claims considering many of the
experiments the man had done seemed unsuccessful. All but this little red-haired experiment
it seemed.

He'd seen many ancient kinds of power and magic...but only a few readings like that. Sure
enough, those readings similar to the Tesseract he'd tried to steal from SHIELD many years
ago, only for HYDRA to beat him to it. Then the Red Room had taken it into their clutches
thanks to their alliance with HYDRA.

He'd dismissed the item then, considering it was nothing more than a cube that could give off
energy, nothing more than something to brag about since it came from the vast mysteries of
space.

Now in a call with Cobalus, Ra's stared at the monitors before him with that hunger once
more. The hunger for power which others could not see or understand.

"Things will go into motion soon" Cobalus said, voice distorted, "I'll expect your help when
the time comes, then you will be given what you were promised"

Ra's picked at the silk fabric of his green robe, ignoring the arrival of his daughter into the
room as he replied to the intercom, "About that, I looked into your plans and if you wish for
success on this next stage of your plan, you will need more soldiers...which I am willing to
provide at additional cost. Something inconsequential since we are such great allies"

The mysterious voice went silent, then said, "You have already asked to take control of
various countries, asked for Batman's latest Robin to be delivered to you. What more could
you possibly as for?"

The man smirked, ignoring Talia's nearing form as he confidently stated, "I wish for another
individual to be delivered to me. Alive. I want Brooklyn Stark"

Cobalus coughed nervously.

"I'm afraid that is not a price I can deliver. Ivan has already asked the girl be delivered to him
as part of the payment for his support"

Ra's hummed in acknowledgment, even when he'd already suspected that would be the case.
Just as Ra's wanted his heir returned once heroes fell, it would make sense Ivan would as
well, especially if she had such power in her veins.

Calmly, Ra's explained, "Ivan got caught, can do very little to will the Red Room for your
needs. Seems to me his help is all but useless for this next part of your plan, but if you
promise to send me the girl as payment when the dust settles, I can give you more of the
support that you desperately need"

The voice on the other end was silent for a minute, then two.

Finally, Cobalus sighed and said, "Very well, but any retaliation from Ivan must be dealt with
you and not me. I don't take breaking previous deals lightly, but I will do it since Ivan
carelessly got himself caught and can only do half his job efficiently. I will send the changes
to our contract to you by tonight, but I expect two hundred more assassins be sent to me"

Brooklyn Stark was likely worth tens of thousands of soldiers, he thought.

Ra's couldn't fight his grin as he casually replied, "Consider it done. Pleasure doing business"
then hung the call.

After a few minutes of silently polishing her katanas, Talia asked in English, "Why do you
want the Stark girl, father? She's from the Red Room. Do you plan to use her as a bargaining
chip against Ivan or Iron Man?"

He didn't bother with a response at first, merely tilted the monitors his daughter's way, letting
her see the clips from today, the news footage of Firestar, and the readings with relevance to
the great power that had brought an army from space.

Talia examined it all with barely any visible changes in emotions, even when Ra's moved to
stand by the large windows behind him, outlooking the large training grounds where
everyone was busy with their morning sparring.

"I only collect the best, the strongest" Ra's said over his shoulder, "Once Brooklyn Stark is
mine, I will train her further, break whatever ties she has to her past or any illusions to being
a hero. Then, a new and mighty weapon will be mine to wield. Cobalus has no clue what he
is trading, but soon, he too will fall under the mighty power I will acquire by his clueless
hand"

He'd expected Talia to agree, to look at the shelves behind her, full of artifacts containing
priceless weapons and rarest treasures that strengthened their power and think of this as just
another more.

His daughter surprised him by saying, "My son and the girl are enemies, father. They will not
blend well here together, even with your control and their parents gone once Cobalus has his
way. Damian will not allow it. She won't be an easy weapon to wield because of that existing
hatred. Perhaps she should be left alone, her power is hardly anything impressive by the
looks of it"

Ra's did not have interest in petty Wayne-Stark rivalries.

When the time came, Damian would obey. When he returned, Damian would stand by his
side, ready to face his destiny at Ra's command.
 Maybe Ra's would give his grandson the honor of breaking their new little weapon, wielding
Miss Stark into something faithful and mindless. Something cruel and merciless even Ivan
could not have created.

He did not notice the way his daughter's eyes had widened in surprise at the realization that
this plan would one day come to be. Even if he had, he wouldn't have known what it meant
for she'd never shown such emotion.

Talia herself found her worry mildly shocking, but she did not warn her father that she'd been
a witness to a rather odd phenomenon.

Damian and Brooklyn would likely never yield to her father, possibly only to one another. If
Ra's took Brooklyn, Damian would fight with every ounce of his being, use whatever it took
to get them out and back to that odd thing they called life.

The Stark may very well use that same power father craved to destroy the League if she felt it
was best for Damian. There was a reason why Talia had handed over the family ring for Miss
Stark to have after all, because she was already strong, powerful, and ruthless.

Instead of revealing the surpassingly closeness her son had to that girl of strange abilities,
Talia kept her mouth shut, then stood to bow to her father before leaving the room. She had
soldiers to train and annoying rebel siblings to find for later disposal anyways.

On her way out, she finally heard her father simply reply to her earlier observations, "We'll
see what's left of those two when the chaos ends. It will all be mine eventually, starting with
those two"

She only dared to take an unsettling breath once she was back in her war room. Then she let
it go, and got back to work. After all, there were people she needed to kill before Cobalus
made his next move that would shake the Earth.

Chapter End Notes

I am so beyond excited for the chapters to come. I'd say I already have six or seven more
outlined in which many interesting things will happen and more will be revealed. Lets
just say there may be some interesting stuff going on back at Midtown, that a new Stark-
Wayne friendship will form (a rather unexpected one), families will grow, there will be
another gala (those are always fun), and some interesting company work will be
revealed.

These next set of chapters will be very fun I promise! But keep in mind all that
happened in these past two, because they are essential to what will happen next.

I know I haven't been able to answer comments like I used to, and thats because my free
time is dedicated to writing. I just don't have the time I used to thanks to all my new
work, but rest assured I read and love all of them. They make me very happy!
I hope you enjoy the story so far!
 A New Assignment

Brooklyn POV-

"You know" Flash said, leaning beside her as she gathered books from her locker, "We could
go to the new restaurant downtown. If the paparazzi catch us, I promise I'll look good beside
you"

Brooklyn sighed, debating the merits of getting inside her locker just to avoid yet another
advance from Flash. It was bad enough he always suggested they go out after Decathlon
practice or during History and Gym class. Now he had taken to scouting her out between
classes...

Damian had suggested a little visit from Robin to scare Flash more than once, but just a
Brook couldn't interfere when girls took their chance to ask him out, neither him nor Robin
could do a thing about the boisterous guy beside her.

Brook's opinion of Flash had fallen several notches since they met months ago. It had hit rock
bottom and started digging for China now a days.

He still loved to push Peter around, ironic considering Flash could always be seen with
Spider-man merchandize, clothes, or just outright praising the hero. Lately, he'd taken to
bothering Harry too, which Tanya had rationalized as Flash's attempts of 'getting rid of the
competition'.

Brooklyn was not deaf, she knew the school (and the world) thought she and Harry were the
'it' couple of the future. The only one that ever found that amusing seemed to be Yelena, and
thats because she knew where Brook's heart truly lay. Getting links to videos from her sister
near midnight about gossip TV shows with their ridiculous theories that Brook was already
dating Harry since their infancy was certainly not a highlight of her life. The creepily edited
photos of her and Harry as a couple on social media were not any better...

It was actually rather curious that Harry never once brought them up or joked about said
rumors. Perhaps that just meant he found them equally as stupid.

At least one good thing came out of those outrageous claims, which was seeing Flash waste
his time trying to intimidate an amused Harry on a daily basis.

Today though, Flash had skipped all usual attempts to ask her out on a date later in the day,
instead choosing to trap her between classes. She wasn't even exaggerating about the trapping
part. Flash had moved to stand behind her, arms between her locker space like a cage keeping
her from running away (or rather confidently strutting away as was expected of a Stark).

Fantastic.

"For the hundredth time, Flash. I don't want to go on a date with you" she replied, slamming
her locker closed. Flash flinched at the sound, but that did not deter him from moving a few
steps closer with all the confidence of a guy who was apparently not used to being rejected,
or was very good at covering it.

He was very lucky she was currently wearing vibranium bracelets underneath the sleeves of
her lazy jacket. Even luckier that she was under such self-imposed mental restraint after the
events of this weekend.

Flash ignored the gasps and hollers from those walking in the halls as he leaned down closer
towards her face and whispered, "C'mon! I'm fun. In fact, I have a feeling you and I can have
a really good time if you let me show you"

Brooklyn wasn't sure if she was about to curse him out or push him onto the bodies of traffic
behind them to get walked over. Thankfully, she suddenly felt a familiar arm wrap itself
around her shoulders, then a hand clasped onto her own.

Tanya, who towered a full head above Brook was already smirking at Flash, keeping the
young Stark by her side as she said, "Maybe Brook isn't interested in going around a boring
joy ride in your father's convertible. Go lick your wounds and let us get to class, play saint
with someone else"

On Brook's other side, Yelena was smiling, but she could tell her sister was one comment
away from ripping out Flash's arm. It was a deceiving sort of calm. Their locked hands were
likely an attempt at restraint from her sister from punching Flash in the face.

Flash eyed the two newcomers with annoyance, but relented a step or two without wiping
that confident smirk off his face.

Instead of following Tanya's good advice, Flash turned to Brook and said, "Oh, I'm not a
saint. For you, a saint would buy a condom and go to confession, Brooklyn. You can bet
you'd have good time in my company, gorgeous"

For a second, Brook actually debated punching him, then she wondered why Yelena hadn't
already moved to attack. Her sister's gaze was no longer on Flash, but rather behind them, a
devilish smile on her features that Brooklyn only understood when she turned to see Jon and
Damian making their way over.

Yelena was enjoying this far too much, enough so that she whispered with a smile, "Bednyy
mal'chik, flirtuyushchiy s korolevoy demona. Yego smert' budet krovavoy"

Brooklyn fought back a small smile of her own at the words, especially when she turned back
once more to see Damian was silently seething, clearly having heard at least that last bit of
Flash's words.

Poor boy, flirting with the demon's queen, his death will be a bloody one, is what Yelena had
said. For a moment, Brooklyn actually thought Damian would risk exposure to put Flash in
his place...

Instead, Damian arrived by Tanya's side, sneering at the onlookers behind him before turning
to Flash with a distasteful sigh. Flash had the good sense to back up all the way against the
lockers, looking as if he might bolt out of the hall by Damian's glare alone.

Said glare lingered for a few seconds, only for it to turn towards Brooklyn. Sure, his glare
was still in place, but it turned into that familiar alteration that meant a silent apology for the
words he would say, for the role he had to play for their sakes.

"Stark, I should've known you'd be playing with the trash at school" he said, "I must cut your
misfortune short since you are still my partner for class, and the coach mentioned an
important announcement. I refuse to be docked off points if you get in trouble for teaching
this filth a lesson"

Brooklyn tried not to sigh with relief, even as Jon flinched at the words he knew very well
were not true at all. It was honestly a miracle Yelena was able to keep her laughter at bay as
Brook replied with just as much venom, "Well, Wayne. You know how much I adore sitting
next to you, its the fucking highlight of my day. Let's just get that fucking class over with so I
only have to suffer through lunch afterwards, then I can breathe easily not seeing you for the
rest of the day"

Tanya's flinch at the words didn't seem as staged. She knew Brook and Damian were
something akin to friends, at least enough so to get through hero work together and not insult
one another all the while.

Maybe thats why her friend wasn't holding back a knowing look like Jon and Yelena as the
five of them moved to head to class together, leaving Flash behind without a second thought.
She barely heard Flash mutter something about getting her next time, to which Brook saw
Damian's shoulders stiffen slightly.

Perhaps that is why she turned back in the middle of the hall just long enough to say to Flash,
"If the only people left on the planet were you and Jack the Ripper, I would've trusted the
Ripper more. Good day, Flash"

Tanya and Yelena couldn't hold back their laughter then, ignoring the shocked faces of the
students around them as the five made their way to the class where the rest of their team was
already waiting.

On their way, Damian waited until they were near the classroom door before shooting her a
quick grin, one which she returned in kind.

As they had done for the past four days, Peter made sure to walk past her desk once she sat
down. He gave her a quick greeting, nothing anyone would bat an eyelash at, but secretly he
reached out a hand towards her right wrist.

Since she was still using the vibranium bracelets to keep her fire at bay, Peter had come up
with a way to solve some of the more unsavory side effects like the unnatural cold that tended
to spread across her body.

After asking dad for some spare vibranium, Peter had gotten to do what he enjoyed most, and
that was tinkering. He'd found a way to moderate the levels of 'cold' the bracelets gave off,
and one touch from Peter's small vibranium rock-like object against one of the bracelets was
enough to bring temporary relief without risking taking off the bracelets.

The relief was instantaneous, and Brooklyn tried not to sigh in comfort as she silently
thanked Peter on his way back beside MJ. At least the cold would not distract her from
whatever lesson Mr. Wilson had for them today.

He'd given out strange instructions yesterday, mentioning that today, their babies would be
joining the class for once. Sure enough, Rosa laid silently atop Brook and Damian's desk.
Both of them were still sure they had the highest grade possible, because despite their busy
schedule, they'd been very careful not to disregard Rosa in any way.

She was unharmed, dressed in a Nightwing-logo bodysuit Brooklyn had gotten for Damian to
frown at when he took Rosa home today. On the table beside them, Jon had taken one look at
the outfit and nearly laughed himself hoarse. One look at his baby's Superman outfit and
Brooklyn was almost tempted to do the same.

Jon was never one for being subtle.

Mr. Wilson walked into class then, looking tried as always, but dare she say...he looked
excited.

That couldn't be a good sign.

He still wasn't one for bravado and kept all suspense to a minimum as he told the class, "I'd
like to start off by saying that being parents for a few months have turned you all into
walking zombies. Imagine what your parents felt like dealing with you for years, so...I don't
know, be generous on mother and father's days from now on. But today, I get the wonderful
pleasure of revealing which of you would be awful parents if you chose to be irresponsible.
Today, the baby project finally comes to an end"

For a few seconds, the class was quiet (likely still catching up on sleep), the next, cheers
erupted around her. Some students actually burst into elated tears, others hugged one another,
for their nights of torture were finally over.

Brooklyn couldn't help but let out a relieved sigh, being a 'parent' while doing all of her other
activities had certainly made things harder though not entirely unbearable. In fact, as she and
Damian eyed the doll before them, she couldn't help but be a little upset at the news.

Rosa had been there since the two started this something new, had become a part of their
routine and way of living since. The doll brought them closer not just by creating an excuse
for them to be seen around together more, but in an emotional sense.

Perhaps they weren't the only ones with mixed feelings, because once it was time to line up to
hand over the babies, supplies, and receive the final grades, everyone seemed to be
embracing their child with tears of sadness this time around.

One would think thats not how they would've reacted weeks ago. The students would've
likely given up their babies without a second thought when this all started. But just like coach
said, all parents grow fond of their kids eventually, no matter how annoying.

Brooklyn herself was looking down at the silent doll in her arms, one that was not activated
at this hour of the school day. She was sure that if they turned the dolls back on, they'd just
wail as usual, and for once Brook mourned that absence.

It's not like Rosa would know this was goodbye anyways, but she still hugged the doll tight,
thanking the doll for the unexpected company despite the long sleepless nights and busy
days.

When she handed over the doll to Damian, he was still frowning as usual, but his gaze was
focused and bothered. He wasn't as emotionally responsive as the rest of the class of course,
but in his own way, Brooklyn knew he was becoming aware that the absence of the doll
would be felt in the days to come.

So while Jon continued to cry behind them as Yelena soothed circling motions on his arm,
Brooklyn whispered, "I'd say we did a very good job with this project. Somehow, Rosa is still
in one piece"

Damian nodded, looking at Rosa's closed lids as he adjusted the strap of the baby bag on his
arm. Brooklyn was holding the baby seat that would no longer remain in Roscoe, clutching it
with such familiarity that she almost couldn't imagine seeing the jeep without it.

The cheap baby crib and feeding seat back home would have to be thrown out, so would all
the mocking baby clothes that had turned into a game of wits and jokes between her and
Damian. Those would be a noticeable absence too.

At the front of the line, Peter kissed his baby's forehead, looking like he might actually cry he
set Fannie Parker-Jones on the teacher's desk. MJ merely wished the doll a good journey and
received their grade, but Brook caught sight of the girl with the brown curls looking back at
the table with a saddened frown on her way back to their seats.

Harry and Tanya were next, but unlike the previous pair, the two were fighting tooth and nail
to hug their Harriet Osborn. Their stoic teacher actually had to pry the (somehow still in one
piece) doll from them in the end.

As the moment of their goodbye neared, Brooklyn couldn't help but feel a little silly. The
world was in danger and yet all her focus was on a simple robotic doll, one Brook realized
she would mourn in some sense.

So thanks to the distracted students too busy with their own 'children', Brooklyn dared to inch
closer to Damian and Rosa, making sure to catalog the baby to memory despite the
foolishness of it all.

So after Anakin Thompson-Leeds was handed over with Ned's saddened blessing for the
robot to take over the world. It was now her turn to say goodbye forever. Only Damian wasn't
setting Rosa down.
Sure, coach was distracted at the moment, making sure people didn't slip on the puddles of
tears on the floor, but Damian did not look like he would ever let the baby in his arms go. He
looked angered, determined...and in the oddest way possible, it was the most adorable thing
she'd ever seen him do.

"Are you ok?" she whispered, even if it was useless when having a half-kryptonian behind
you. Luckily, Jon was still lost in his own grief.

"Of course" Damian replied nonchalantly, then after a brief hesitation, he whispered almost
somberly, "It's just a doll....our doll"

Brooklyn nodded with equal sadness. They'd shared too many good memories with this doll,
and even when saying they'd been 'parents' was a little weird, thats what it had felt like. Their
own little family.

"Yeah, our doll" she whispered back in reassurance, only able to break out from her somber
mood when she noticed Damian was taking out his black credit card.

It took a few seconds to realize he might very well buy this doll the way he had Roscoe, be it
only for sentimental value. It had made her smile a little too brightly, the sight of the big bad
Damian Wayne being seconds away from buying a mere robotic doll.

So she gently and discretely held his hand from rising, moved it and his credit card back to
his pocket, shaking her head with a smile on her face. As much as she would love to not part
from Rosa, she knew neither of them could justify buying the doll in front of their peers.

Who knew two ex-assassins could become so easily emotionally attached to things....

"Fine" Damian muttered, but when it was time to put Rosa on the table, he still hesitated to
hand it over. Coach said nothing of it at first, as if he was used to this hesitance from all
students, it wasn't until he looked up that he raised a confused brow.

Because how could two enemies become emotionally devoted to a doll, right?

Brooklyn did them all a favor, gently taking Rosa into her own arms, smiling at the
Nightwing outfit once more before kissing the baby's forehead the way she'd found herself
doing more and more lately. One last time, she whispered to Rosa Wayne, "Thank you for
letting me see I am capable of gentleness and kindness"

Then she put the doll on the table, and the two ex-assassins methodically checked out the rest
of the supplies (with Damian making sure they hadn't left any weapons on that baby bag
before turning it in).

Mr. Wilson had nodded silently while checking it all, then handed over the folded piece of
paper with their grade.

"I can't believe I'm even saying this, but you kids did a good job putting your hatred aside for
this project. The principal will be heartbroken that the period of Wayne-Stark peace will be
over at last though. I'll be hearing all about it at the teacher's lounge won't I?" he said, then
motioned for a sobbing Jon and a crestfallen Yelena to come forward for their own goodbye
to Seyg Kent...marking the last of the days the team would spent with 'baby play dates' at the
Briar Rose cafe.

Brooklyn and Damian snuck one last glance at their life-like baby, then once back in their
seats, they beheld the results of their good work.

A+. Exemplary work, minimal deductions.

Neither one of them could hide their satisfaction at the results, especially when some students
were celebrating like their lives depended on it after barely passing the assignment (Harry
and Tanya included).

Such joy from her classmates was only brought to an end when Mr. Wilson stood back up on
the podium just as Brook wondered what could possibly come next for this odd class. Maybe
they'd have to learn how to take care of a pet, or have to keep a plant alive.

Turned out, her and Damian's whispered guesses in the assassin language had all been so
completely wrong.

Mr. Wilson did not bother giving a day or rest after the big project, ignored all complaints as
he mentioned a new project of sorts would be announced.

Yelena was already banging her head on the table.

"Your next assignment isn't child's play this time" coach said, lazily pointing at the class as he
said "Here at Midtown, we take education very seriously, and one of the big parts of your
future not only has to do with a future family, but with the workforce. You're all here at this
school because you're ambitious, and it's this class' job as well as the school's to make sure
you are all prepared for what is to come. This won't be as much playing pretend as the first
assignment. So while the seniors learn how to manage taxes and budgets, you will learn what
your future jobs feel like"

Brooklyn didn't even want to think about her job at SHIELD right now, not after what had
occurred last weekend...

Mr. Wilson did not let the class whisper amongst one another for too long, not as he
explained, "Your next assignment will be much more personalized since you all have some
idea of what you want to do when you finally walk out of these halls next year. So your
assignment now will be to start an internship in your job of interest"

By lunch time, everyone was still stressed, looking through the list of jobs and companies
willing to grant out internships that Mr. Wilson had given them. Brooklyn, Damian, and
Harry were the only ones who were calmly eating their lunch as the others browsed their
options.

All three of them already knew what they would grow up to be, they didn't need to look to
begin with, even if Harry was less than pleased with where that internship would take him for
hours after school.
Or at least that had been the case, until she and Damian began hearing whispers from their
classmates in the halls.

Despite everyone being excited or scared for their own internships, the conversations mostly
centered on the three students who hadn't bothered with the list.

Students began complaining that it was not fair, because Damian, Harry, and Brook
ALREADY HAD guaranteed jobs since birth. Some even commented rather rudely, "Whats
the challenge for them if everything will be handed to them? The rest of us actually have to
work for it and to get a good grade"

Others whispered things like, "Their parents can just say they did a good job. Obviously they
are all getting good grades, won't even have to lift a finger"

By Spanish class, Brooklyn was ready to rip someone's head out, or maybe even her own.

She realized quite annoyedly that this assignment was going to be a big problem. Despite her
already doing work for Stark Industries just as Damian was doing for Wayne Enterprises, no
one would take their success seriously.

They would not only think Brook was pulling the 'I am Brooklyn Stark' card to get a good
grade, and if the media might caught wind of this, they would turn it into something ugly like
they had with her and Harry's friendship.

Doing work for Stark Industries was one thing, but officially interning there was another.

So she'd pushed her completed listSpanish verbs aside to think of a proper solution, one she
hadn't even finished formulating until the school bell rang. Her excitement had been so grand
she'd actually summoned all her friends once their respective after school activities were
over. Because this wouldn't just solve her, Harry's, and Damian's problems, but it might solve
some from the Avengers Dynasty as well.

That didn't mean she liked the plan...oh no, it would be weeks of hell for the three of them if
they even managed to arrange it.

But it was all she could thing of that would be the most beneficial.

So they'd all piled onto Roscoe or Harry's convertible, driving to their secret base in the cafe,
already mourning the absence of their babies as they settled down on the large round table in
the middle of the hidden room.

Ned and MJ had somberly distributed enough coffee cups for them all, already used to how
everyone took their poison.

Brooklyn hadn't wasted any time after that to explain the rumors she'd heard, but had
dismissed the angered looks by bringing up the things she'd found about Lex's projects, the
ones she had been unable to share thanks to what happened in Atlantic City last weekend.

She shared the revelation of both Stark Industries and HYDRA tech being used in that
Superman killing suit, albeit rather angrily herself. Then, she raised the list of internships
she'd left unmarked.

The two topics seemed unrelated at first of course, much to the confusion of her peers, that
was until Brooklyn added, "So that the public won't thing the three of us are complacent or
being handed everything without working for it," she said, pointing at herself, the green eyed
boy by her side, and the teen with the rockstar-like attire beside MJ, "...we need to become
interns somewhere different that where we are expected, away from our parents. Of course
there aren't many places to train to be a CEO aside from our companies, but as much as we'll
hate this....its our best bet to keep unnecessary hatred and gossip away. We're busy enough as
it is"

Harry tossed his blue beanie on the floor, leaning back on his chair as he let out a loud howl
of joy. Damian on the other hand was already frowning, and it wouldn't surprise Brook if he
already knew exactly what she had come up with.

"I don't give a shit what people say about me, but if it gets me away from my old man, I'm
game!" Harry said, grinning.

Brooklyn didn't dare smile back, not with what she was about to suggest.

She leaned forward on the large table, arms tense, and she almost elected to keep her
thoughts to herself...but she knew that as much as she'd hate this, it had to be done.

"Well, for starters. Harry will have to be away from Oscorp"

Harry quickly suggested, "I can go to Stark Industries! Tony already knows me well, it
should be fun!"

"Actually," Brook interrupted, "this internship might juts be a way for us to get into Lex Corp
undetected or without raising any flags. Since there is a high chance that Lex is Cobalus, who
is allied with Ivan, neither Yelena or myself can risk going in to do what we do best. Even
sending Damian could be a risk considering his mom is allied with Cobalus as well. The only
person he won't think twice about having there, the one person he won't suspect of espionage
would be...well, you Harry"

Harry went wide eyed at the same moment Ned and Peter stood up from their chairs,
dropping their unfinished Rubik's Cubes simultaneously.

"You can't possibly think to send Harry in there with him!" Peter said, frantic eyes locking
with Brook as he added, He doesn't know a thing about being a spy, he'll get caught! And
when he does, he could get seriously hurt! Playing football is one thing but fighting is
another!"

Brooklyn did not flinch at Peter's tone, not when she was as displeased with the plan as he
was.

Instead she leveled him with a serious look, pleading with her eyes for him to let her explain,
because there was no way she would ever willingly risk the lives of anyone in this room.
Not now, not ever.

"He won't be going unprepared. We have a week to start out internships, seven days in which
he can be trained by Lena and I. We were trained by the best spy there is, and with Damian's
help, we can teach him enough about defending himself" she explained, watching as some of
her friends around the table eased at the words, "Plus, he won't be doing much more than
noting odd patterns, doing evaluations on Lex, maybe delving into some information
gathering with Ned's help. That is, if he is willing to-"

Brooklyn wasn't able to finish her sentence before Harry stood from his chair, clapping a still
MJ on the back as he said, "Hell yeah I'm in!" then turned to Peter and Ned, his oldest
friends, and shot them a confident smile, "We're all a team remember? It's time I start pulling
my weight more than just reporting news my dad gathers. I've known Lex all my life, as long
as I play the lazy spoiled kid, he won't think twice about me. It's actually a damn genius plan
to make me our little James Bond"

MJ, who had long since set down her literature interest, added with a passive look, "Harry is
the son of an important CEO. Even if Lex found out what he was doing, he'd have his hands
tied from doing anything. It would be worse if someone like me, Ned, or Peter went. This
truly is a rare opportunity we've been granted, we should make the most of it"

Tankful for the support, Brook shot her friend a small smile, which Michelle raised her coffee
cup at.

Tanya added, "Plus, if he goes to Stark Industries, the rumors about him might not improve
anyways. The world thinks Harry is practically years away from marrying Brook, interning
with Tony Stark might be a message of its own. If he does...they might think Tony is showing
favoritism to Harry"

No one at the table could argue that fact, even Harry nodded in understanding and
acceptance.

Beside the younger Stark, Damian nodded in agreement, then asked, "I suppose you have
plans for us as well?"

Compared to sending Harry to the lion's den, this was considerably less risky, but that would
not make it any more enjoyable. This next part of her plan had nothing to do with stopping
Cobalus. Unfortunately, this only had to do with their image, securing a reputation for their
futures as CEOs without anyone able to question their abilities to pursue them.

With a tired sigh, Brooklyn all but let herself fall on her plush chair, hands clutching red
strands of her hair as she explained, "As much as I hate to say this, Damian and I need to go
somewhere away from our companies as well, but given our futures, we also need a place we
can get the training we need. If I go to Oscorp, students might think I'm is still not being
challenged or earning my success thanks to the good relationship between the Starks and
Osborns"

Yelena, MJ, and Tanya nodded.

It was Tanya, done inspecting her white manicure, who said, "Its true. The rumors about you
and Harry being a couple or engaged might not only spike if you go there, but they might
think it's a confirmation of said rumors. They could think you two being a couple is a
business move, it will only get you a shitty reputation the way Harry going to Stark Industries
would, not worth it"

Brooklyn had already considered that, though it was clear that she and Damian were the only
ones in the room who had never heard the particular rumors of her and Harry 'being engaged'.

Seriously, did people not have anything better to do?

Before Damian could say something he'd regret about said rumors, Brooklyn interjected, "I
figured as much. So instead I have to go to the only place I know people won't question any
praise and accomplishments I might get while still being in a worldwide company. The only
place people won't think I bought my success from is-"

"Wayne Enterprises" Damian whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.

As gasps went around the table, Brooklyn locked eyes with him. As expected, Damian's
frown showed traces of worry at her having to intern with his father, a man who seemed to
hate Brooklyn to the core for nothing more than her last name.

Secretly winding her hand with his own under the table, she hoped to convey her sureness
that she could handle it.

Knowing he would be equally as pleased with the second part of her statement, she added,
"Thats not all. Damian is facing the exact same problem I am, meaning he too has to go to the
only place is despised. He has to intern at Stark Industries"

Jon patted Damian's back in support, especially as the Wayne sighed annoyedly, but nodded
at the accuracy of the statement.

"Its the best way to void rumors or nasty reputations, people will likely be stuck scratching
their heads at the odd choices to bother with further rumors" Damian said, then added
annoyedly, "how ridiculous..."

Just as Harry would be going somewhere dangerous, she and Damian too would have to go to
places they were despised in. Dad would likely make Damian's life miserable the same way
Bruce Wayne would with her.

It certainly would not be easy...but perhaps this could work in their favor somehow.

Brooklyn had once hated Damian so profoundly that she thought having a simple
conversation with him was impossible. Then she spent time with him, got to know the real
Damian (and Robin), found he was one of the most loyal people in the world, that he felt
strongly and cared as deeply as his morals ran.

Maybe...maybe Brook's dad could grow to see that in time spent with Dami, and perhaps if
she put enough effort, she could convince Bruce Wayne that she was more than an enemy last
name or a product of the Red Room.

Of course she couldn't tell her friends that, but what Brook had said had been enough for
them to agree it would be the best course of action to take. Ned and Peter had still cringed
when Brooklyn circled Wayne Enterprises on her paper before them all, and Tanya and Jon
had almost held Damian's hand back when he circled Stark Industries on his own.

But it was done.

They'd submit their papers tomorrow, and they'd get started on prepping Harry as much as
their could for this first mission of his.

As everyone began working out new patrol schedules to work around internship hours, Brook
noticed Yelena sat on her desk away from them all, staring blankly at her own paper.

Earlier, Tanya had chosen to do an internship with her dad not just because she was interested
in the position of Sheriff for an occupation in the future, but because she thought it might be a
good way to be more in tune with what the police was doing. A way to help the team more
efficiently than the old police radio could.

Ned had chosen a position at Oscorp's technical branch to pursue his own ambitions, hoping
to learn more skills that could help when it came time to hack into Lex's files if need be. Peter
would've likely taken the same initiative had he not known dad would be hurt if he stopped
interning for Stark Industries.

At least Peter would be there in case Damian and dad ever got into a brawl...

It was no surprise when MJ chose something related to politics, choosing to intern at the
Queen's City Hall to oversee all matters of her interests. She had smirked upon realizing
interning there might also be of some help, gaining access to private documents from the city
would be good to keep finding hidden places weapons could be transported or stored at.

Jon had actually been the first to announce his internship goals. There was an option to do an
internship at the Daily Bugle, the primary destination for news in the city.

Brook had never known Jon was fascinated with his father's line or work, finding it useful for
a life of heroics. But it was true, being a reporter could make going to dangerous places an
easy cover, a decent way to preserve a secret identity. It was also a good place to catch a
whiff of any and all news and rumors of use regarding the Joker and his allies.

All of their internships would serve a purpose outside of being a learning experience, save for
those of Brook and Damian. Then there was her sister...

Brooklyn had not dared to ask what Yelena wished to do, had not even dared take away the
option of working at Stark Industries if that was something her sister felt comfortable with,
even if it might bring some small nasty rumors her way.

Yelena had been denied making choices for herself all her life, Brooklyn would be damned if
she ever did that to her sister.
Sitting next to the blonde now, Brook tried to be casual as she draped a blanket over the two
of them as she smiled up at the photos Yelena hung above her computer space. Family
portraits Brook had taken with her Polaroid camera.

Keeping her gaze from Lena, lest it scare her off, Brooklyn asked, "No one would blame you
for not giving a thought to the future. You didn't have that option just a few months ago, and I
likely would have no idea what to do with my life aside from hero work if I weren't the Stark
heiress"

Brook almost sighed in relief as she felt Yelena's head rest upon her shoulder, even when she
heard her sister's tired sigh that came along with it.

Working her fingers through the tangles of Yelena's golden hair, Brook listened as Yelena
whispered, "Its not like I haven't given it any thought. I know I want to move into an
apartment of my own soon, preferably where you live. I know I want Jon's smiles in my
future, that I want to continue being a hero and agent, to make our family proud. I
just...haven't had time to think about the 'normal' aspects of my life"

Brook hummed in acknowledgment.

"You can take the week to research the different jobs available to you. Dad and Nat could
certainly help with that. Plus I think the public won't pester you for a certain path in your
future, you're free to pursue whatever you want, bol'shaya sistra"

Said big sister merely handed over her own paper, which was creased a thousand ways,
looked like it had been the center of attention in moments of unease, seeing as it was filled
with simple and absentminded scribbles and lyrics of songs written in pencil on the edges.

There on the page, also in pencil, was a sure and confident answer to their musing. It almost
made Brook wonder how long it had taken to make such a choice.

Queens Hospital Center.

If Brooklyn recalled correctly, thats where Aunt May worked as a nurse.

Yelena explained, "We've known how to kill since we could hold a weapon and stay upright.
We've killed and tortured, know how to destroy regimes and the lives of thousands in just
about that many ways"

Brooklyn stopped her brushing of Lena's hair, moving them to face one another so her brown
eyes from their dad could meet Yelena's dark green ones. Eyes that were certain, sure, and
determined.

"I think I want to learn how to save lives outside of our hero work, to continue leaving the
past behind, hopefully atoning for the lives I once took by giving people more time to
breathe" Yelena added, "Seems like a slap to the face for Ivan, doesn't it?"

Brooklyn laughed, actually laughed even as her face was full of pride for her sister.
She knew mom and dad would be more than supportive of this choice, that Nat and the rest
of the Avengers would be as well. So she patted her sister on the back, watched Yelena's
smile grow as the two reunited with their team at the main table, working out the specifics of
their scheming.

The next day, Mr. Wilson had all but choked on his coffee when he beheld Brook's and
Damian's choice, but had submitted all of their requests without an objection, even if he'd
looked sick at the action.

By lunch time, Brooklyn had received a call from her dad almost at the same time Damian
got one from his. Both of the adults had shared the news of the 'enemy teen' requesting an
internship with them. They'd panicked at their own kids choosing an internship away from
them and into enemy territory, but once they explained why, neither parent could argue with
the logic. Even if they weren't happy with it.

It was after that long call from both their resigned parents that Damian and Brooklyn shared
an exasperated sigh.

This was going to be a long and torturous project.

Brooklyn missed Rosa already...

 Social Sacrifices

Damian Wayne POV-

His beloved was set to start her internship on Wednesday with father (like everyone else in
their grade), but Anthony Stark wanted to throw Damian off, scheduled him to go to
Manhattan on Tuesday after school.

Ridiculous.

That is why Damian found himself standing before the grand Stark Industries building
classes had ended and he'd had to drive himself here, wishing nothing more than to turn the
other way and do patrols instead.

But people were starting to stare as they passed by, some clearly recognizing just who stood
before this forbidden building full of life, others flinching at his unmoving frown.

Damian glared up at the enormous glass building, almost hoping it would vanish if he did
so....but the building and his internship here remained unmovable obstacles in his life.

At that standstill before the swiveling doors, Damian was reminded once more about the offer
Brooklyn had made earlier during school. She'd offered to go with him with the intention of
supporting him, perhaps keeping her own father in line, but they both knew that was asking
for trouble.

Brooklyn could never be seen defending him any more than he could protect her when the
time came for his beloved to start her own hell at Wayne Enterprises. This was something
they would have to walk through alone, but even still, Damian was still silently grateful and
aware that Brook had played with her words around her father during an after school phone
call.

"I'm just saying, the more you torture the Wayne Jr, the more he's likely to complain to his
father. If he hears Damian is being killed, Bruce will do the same to me", he'd heard Brook
say.

Even with everything on their plates, it was a surprising relief that she still found time to
worry for him. In many ways their worry was mutual, a shared burden they were both wiling
to deal with as long as it was done together.

Too bad this was something they could not get through together, in some ways, this was
Damian's solo mission.

With one last resigned sigh, Damian clutched the straps of his backpack with perhaps a little
too much force, then made the mental leap to head inside the enemy building...

The building itself was an architectural wonder, about 107 stories high and large enough to
take up a few blocks in the middle of one of the most famous cities in the world. It was
elegant of course, with Stark's fortune, how could it not be.

The workers themselves looked rather happy, they weren't unseen black clouds above them
like the residents of Gotham tended to live with. These people were energetic, eager to work
for the man many considered a hero. They had a certain skip to their steps, an energy to their
boisterous greetings, and many still seemed starstruck when Mr. Stark himself appeared from
the glass elevator in the middle of the reception hall.

Damian had to fight an internal groan of discontentment at the sight of Brooklyn's father,
who was already smiling at his workers as he walked by, making a beeline straight for the
young teen standing before the receptionist desk.

Though the man had a few blossoming bruises and bandaged fingers (no doubt from the hero
work that kept even the Waynes busy lately), Mr. Stark looked well put together all things
considered.

He wore a navy blue suit that was likely worth more than the salary of everyone in this giant
building combined. His t-shit told a science joke Damian was sure most people either found
hilarious or pretended to. But it was thanks to his time spent with Brooklyn that Damian was
able to note that the Iron-Man was not defenseless even in the safety of his well guarded
establishment.

The watch on the man's wrist seemed to blend in with his look, but Damian knew it was
nothing more than a hidden weapon like the ones Mr. Stark had given to his children. Yelena
and the young boy (Harley) had gotten a watch just like it last week, just like the one Brook
had as well but kept at home in fear her flames would burn it to dust.

Then there was the barely visible bump underneath his t-shirt, in the center of his chest where
an arc reactor once stood.

Brooklyn had mentioned her father was tinkering with nano technology for the Stark Expo,
and Damian didn't need to be half the detective his own father was to know that was either an
Iron-man suit or a device to call upon one.

Not that Damian was threatened or scared, it was just good to known where his adversary's
weapons lay.

Mr. Stark stalked up to Damian with the swagger only he seemed to posses, one built on
arrogance and confidence strengthened through decades, perhaps reinforced by adoration of
the masses. Damian refrained from outright walking away, choosing instead to frown at the
man as a means of greeting, the kindest of gestures he could summon.

Anthony had the audacity to smirk once he came to stand before him, examining Damian
with a faint look of disgust.

"Mr. Stark" Damian said, voice monotone, hands remaining at his sides.

He never was one for handshakes anyways.

"Well well...if it isn't McGlare" Mr.Stark said, ignoring those slowing their pace to behold the
standoff of a Stark and Wayne, as he added with further amusement, "Well then my little
intern, what are you standing around for? We have LOADS of work to do today. Keep up"

Without looking back, Mr. Stark turned to walk back to the glass elevator, unable to see the
seething look Damian was throwing his way before the teen followed along.

Damian actually had to remind himself that killing was not something he did anymore, that
the death of Tony Stark would cause great pain to his beloved, and that his damn school
grade was on the line.

Those three phrases became a mantra as time went by.

Mr. Stark it seemed, was not going to kick Damian out with a failing grade. He did not intend
this torture to be easy and quick. No, if he was going to have to deal with a Wayne, Anthony
was clearly going to enjoy it.

Instead of having Damian do actual work, he became nothing more than a glorified secretary.
Damian spent his first day bringing coffee for the man every few hours, delivering documents
around the large building like a newspaper boy, and being further humiliated by being tasked
with going out into the city to get him lunch even when he had five fucking assistants to do
just that.

Honestly, Damian was convinced Mr. Stark was only here because he knew a Wayne would
be interning. The teen had originally hoped Ms. Potts would be the one he'd have to work for,
and it seemed some part of his unspoken and unasked prayer had been answered well around
six pm.

The woman had appeared at the main office with a familiar smile on her face, or at least that
was until she noticed Damian had over the fifth cup of coffee of the day for Mr. Stark (a feat
only the insufferable Tim Drake could outmatch).

She was just as he remembered her, dressed impeccably, high heels announcing her arrival,
light auburn hair tied back. Pepper Potts had never been unkind to Damian, and it only made
him all the more curious as to why such a woman would even think to marry Tony Stark, who
was at this moment, nothing less than the devil incarnate.

The first thing Ms. Potts did upon her arrival, was to set down her blue designer bag and
glare at her fiancee, then make her way towards Damian.

"Damian! It's good to see you, how have you been?" she asked, only getting close at a
respectable distance, before taking both of his hands into her own. Pepper's smile was kind,
as if she were truly glad to see him.

Damian did not back away from the skin contact (despite the slight discomfort), but did
straightened his stance impeccably as he replied passively, "Miss Potts. I'm sure you can
imagine, I've been better"

He couldn't help but cast a defiant glance at his current boss as if that were answer enough.
But no one could question Damian's good work this way, at least no one could claim he was
cheating the system. Of course that would be if Anthony actually gave him some real work to
do! He was a Wayne... not a glorified secretary!

Mrs. Potts was a smart woman, knew full well a Stark and Wayne (not to mean EVERY Stark
and Wayne, obviously) in a room could spark disaster, which is why despite her husband's
complaints, she took to spending more time in the office that day.

At times, it was not so much a blessing, for the two were clearly madly in love as future
newlyweds. Damian would sit at his desk, doing his ridiculous work tasks, but unavoidably,
he'd also get to see the two interact in a way Damian had just started to learn meant true
devotion.

He'd never admit it to a single soul, but at times, Damian found himself almost admiring
them for it. The quick banter, the ever-flowing smiles, the kindness in which they beheld one
another...it made him more certain that the way he was taking his relationship with Brooklyn
was going the right way. That THEY were going the right way.

Unfortunately, Pepper Potts had some business to take care of overseas for the company and
was not able to be there to cut Damian's suffering short after those first two days. She'd told
(commanded) Anthony to be nice, but as soon as the woman left the premises, everything had
remained as it had been before.

He didn't know why Ms. Potts had bothered to stick up for him in the first place, often
pondered about it during useless task after task. He didn't even know why she'd once
bothered to event take him out to lunch with her daughter, bother to treat them to a trip to the
museum either.

Maybe thats why Damian made an effort to at least seem kinder to the woman, which is
probably why Mr. Stark had hated him all the more these days. The tasks had only gotten
more ridiculous since those visits from his fiancee, when Pepper had at leasts stood up for
him verbally.

After four days though, Damian had enough of making coffee, of being humiliated by
delivering paperwork or taking phone calls. He was at his wits' end trailing Stark around the
fucking building like a lost dog, even more so at people seeing him be nothing more than a
glorified human cabinet since the spoiled man claimed that he 'didn't like to be handed
things'.

As if that made any sense.

What was even more annoying, if not the reason he finally snapped, was the fact that Park-
Peter was seeing it all unfold. Peter had been living a better intern life, taking part in projects,
even managing important paperwork in the science division of the company.

Brooklyn had tried to ease Damian's mind by pointing out their friend had worked there
longer, as if that would excuse the obvious sight that was Anthony Stark picking favorites,
choosing his ward over his enemy's son.
It didn't help that father was making Brook's first days of work a living hell in different ways,
which made it so that even she did not believe her own reassurances.

It was a blasphemy.

Peter even had the gall to look pitifully at Damian as the ex-assassin came into the office with
yet another hot beverage on a rainy afternoon. It turned out, the extra drink Mr. Stark had
ordered had not even been for him to drink later, but Damian had actually made coffee for
Peter Parker without even knowing it.

Maybe it was the pitiful gaze, or the winners smirk Damian's boss threw his way, but nothing
in this world (except perhaps Brooklyn), could've stopped him as he threw the coffee tray
into the trashcan with a loud bang.

Peter flinched at the noise, but those reflexes of his kept the stack of papers in between his
arms from falling into a mess on the floor. Mr. Stark on the other hand, he looked as if he'd
won the lottery...as if he'd been expecting such an outburst.

Damian had the briefest of seconds to realize he made the wrong call, and though he no
longer had many quals with Peter despite the fact that the Spider-ling had once asked his
beloved on a date, it still made him all the more mad that Parker had been there to witness
such an outburst.

Reluctantly, Peter left the room at Mr. Stark's casual order, but the teen sent Damian a
discrete nod of what he perhaps meant as encouragement. Damian ignored it, turning back to
face the man he'd grown more and more frustrated with despite his enormous efforts to
remain calm.

He couldn't hold his anger back any longer, especially when all Stark did was lean back on
his large chair, placing his feet lazily on the desk between them.

"You haven't been teaching me anything, Stark. That stops now" Damian commanded,
slamming his hands on the glass surface of the table, only mildly surprised to see it did not
break with the force used.

Stark only smirked wider, and despite the fact that Damian was taller in this position, it was
like Anthony was looking down at him as he said confidently, "Thats what you think,
McGlare"

What he thought!? It was fact!

"Oh yeah?" Damian said sarcastically, not caring that this was his 'boss' at all, "What's coffee-
making supposed to teach me for my future position as CEO? You're giving me work meant
for servants!"

At that, the man stood lazily, unbuttoning his red blazer which revealed a faded Led-Zeppelin
t-shirt. Without sparing him a single look, Mr. Stark moved to stand at the mini bar in his
office, scooping M&M's into a glass cup as he said over his shoulder, "Jeez, you save the
world a few times, run the most successful company in the world, and people still doubt
you....sit down Jr, apparently I have some obvious explaining to do"

Damian debated staying upright just to show he was not to be commanded by a Stark, but his
curiosity won over in the end. So he sat down, wondering what kind of idiotic excuse the
man would give.

Mr. Stark returned to his seat, waiting till after he plopped a few treats into his mouth before
he said with the most seriousness Damian had ever seen the man capable of possessing, for
once avoiding jokes or nicknames.

"Let's start off by stating the obvious. I despise your father, I loathe you, that much is a given.
My family and yours have hated one another for generations, and thats not going to change
here"

"Evidently" Damian replied annoyedly.

The man glared back for a few more seconds before that confident little smirk of his returned
as he added, "But I was given a task, to prepare you and Peter for the future. I may be many
things, but I am a man of my word, believe it or not. You asked to be taught how to be a good
CEO, I've been doing so"

Damian actually had to hold back the most annoyed laugh of his life.

"No you haven't"

Anthony rolled his eyes, Brooklyn's eyes, at the statement. As if he were talking to a kid that
needed the alphabet taught to him.

"Haven't I?" Stark replied, pointing a finger Damian's way, "From the first moment I met you
McGlare, it's been very obvious what your problem is. You are the cliche rich boy who's been
handed over everything since birth. Your crazy grandfather handed you the keys to a shitty
world domination plan since birth, and afterwards your father gave you a mansion and an
illegal hobby that makes you feel all god-like right?"

Damian became very aware of the two daggers hidden under his own blazer, realizing he
could even try to choke Mr. Stark with the man's black tie and father would likely not blame
him for it.

With all the restraint possible, Damian replied angrily, "You know nothing of me or my past"

"I know enough to evaluate you for this job" Anthony replied, placing another handful of
M&Ms in his mouth, "Though I don't like to admit it, you already have the leadership
capabilities needed, you're not gonna let yourself get pushed around because you practically
think you're royalty. You have the education to learn quickly so you already know whats
expected of you. Your problem areas lay within your character. You want to glare at the world
and be an asshole, fine by me, but when you run a company, you need to get off your pedestal
and take a good look around you"
Pushing a harsh hand through his black hair, Damian asked, "Meaning what? That you
pushed me around knowing I'd be humiliated and angry just to teach me about humility?"

Damian had expected many answers, all except Anthony's nod.

"Precisely" he said with a snap of his fingers, "Confidence is good McGlare, in moderation.
I've knocked you down a peg so you can feel what you do to others, how you treat them. That
in itself will teach you more about the job and yourself than me giving you paperwork right
now"

Honestly, it was a mystery why enemies of the Iron Man didn't just kill themselves after
being around the man for a short while.

"You wanted me to get angry?"

Anthony kicked his feet back on the table (right in front of Damian chest), shrugging as he
said, "Wasn't that hard. Waynes have easy buttons to press. You and your father may hide
behind your angry little stares, but you can't obscure everything. I can see you think you're
ready for the job, that everything else is beneath you. You'll become an even shittier man than
your father if you follow that route, and though it would be good business for me and
certainly good payback for your father, I take my job as hero and mentor quite seriously"

Insults aside, Damian could already feel his body start to shake with restrained anger.

"You son of a..."

"Ah ah ah!"Stark said, pointing another accusatory finger the teen's way, "None of that Jr!
You know I'm right"

Damian took one look around the large room, a place where Brooklyn would sit and
command a business empire one day. It made him wonder, in that haze of anger he found
himself in, "So will you give your daughter this same kind of 'training' when her time comes
to take her place? Will you so willingly humiliate her as you have me?"

Anthony actually had the gall to smile fondly at the mention of his youngest daughter.

"Of course not. Brooklyn already learned that lesson before we even met. My daughter
doesn't see herself above others, never has, probably because she was used to being nothing
for an important period of her life. You are both driven by duty, which is good, but in time I
think she will have to face her own flaws just as you have lately"

Like that was all he needed to say, the man turned back to his documents, as if thats all the
time Damian was worth to him. It was then that the Wayne noticed a suit behind the desk,
glowing now and standing beside its master like a guardian.

An Iron-man suit or red and gold metal, waiting for Damian to attack in haze of anger.

"Now, why don't you go be a dear and get some more coffee without throwing it away this
time? Oh, and drop off some for Peter too, extra sugar. Underoos has been working soo hard
lately after all"
Damian's eye twitched as debated getting into a fight even if it meant fighting an Iron Man
suit...but his drive to prove Anthony wrong was stronger than his need for vengeance.

That didn't mean he was happy about it. Damian made sure to glare the man down as he
stood, fixed his suit blazer and tie before turning around to fulfill those ridiculous tasks.

Before he could leave the room, Stark added, "And what did I just say? Try and be more
approachable, hide that glare of yours for a few hours. It will do wonders for your
complexion, tiny Wayne"

Lingering with a hand on door handles of the large oak doors, Damian replied, "Father said
that showing emotions at work is a mistake"

Just one day being in charge at Wayne Enterprises had only proved father right after all...

"Well, i'm your appointed sensei, the Yoda of your universe now" the man replied, not
looking up from his documents as he added, "Forget anything the emo bat told you, my word
is law here"

"That won't help me in Gotham" Damian pointed out, fists clenching and unclenching.

Thats when Anthony Stark finally looked up, stare strong and sure as he said, "Wrong again.
Gain MY approval, the approval of your enemy...and no one will ever question you again,
McGlare. Not just for a simple high school grade but for the rest of your career. So go ahead
Wayne, impress me, if such a thing is even possible"

Damian HATED that Anthony was right, even more so that there was a purpose to Stark's
madness and Damian had been treated as nothing more than a puppet for days.

So he exited the office, probably still radiating enough anger that the personal assistants
minding their own business at their desks flinched when they caught sight of him. He then
paused, attempted the smallest try at a passive look to ease their little fragile minds. It didn't
seem to work much, but by the time he'd come back with the hot coffee, he'd gotten all of his
curses out in Arabic in the break room.

He must've looked less terrifying because the three women actually seemed to sag in relief
when he arrived.

He dropped of the coffee with little problem, choosing not to pick a fight even when the Iron
Man suit followed his gaze the whole time. Stark must've been impressed by the simple
civility his silence could bring, because he nodded Damian's way in acknowledgment on the
away out.

Peter's coffee had been delivered in a similar manner, civilly.

That was until the teen asked if Damian was doing alright like a concerned mother. Oh how
he'd fought back his glare then, almost painfully, as he replied, "I'm perfectly alright, Peter.
Enjoy you coffee"

He still wasn't able to avoid whispering the word, "Ghabiun"

Damian wasn't sure who exactly he was calling an idiot, but thankfully, Peter was oblivious
to the Arabic language and ignored the words he'd likely heard with that superior hearing of
his.

Thats how the rest of that fourth day of the Stark Internship went for him, attempting to be
slightly more civil to prove the idiot in the CEO office wrong. It was frustrating work,
certainly felt like a constant jab at his ego.

But at least he wasn't suffering the way Brooklyn had been this last few days with father....

Brooklyn POV-

Bruce Wayne was an insufferable bastard.

He was like Satan on Earth...actually, that was an insult to Satan himself.

It had been one week. One week and Brook was already on the verge of destroying this
whole building. She likely would've done it already had she not learned infinite patience
working at a coffee shop in her youth...that and she was absolutely exhausted.

Being in Gotham was unnecessary. She could've done her internship at one of the Wayne
Enterprises buildings in Manhattan under someone else's leadership. But no, Bruce Wayne
just couldn't pass up an opportunity to make her life absolutely miserable.

From the moment she was dropped off by Happy at the black 80-story building in a cloudy
and cold city, her life had gone from busy, to exhausting.

People walking by had stared at Brooklyn as if she were a figment of their imagination, while
others took note of the simple pearl necklace around her neck with uncomfortable interest.

Happy had seemed displeased the entire duration of their drive, but at least he had the trust to
leave her to her own devices once he pulled up before the building. She could've even sworn
the man seemed protective of her before leaving.

Speaking of protectiveness, Yelena had offered to drop Brook off in her motorcycle so they
could both confront Bruce Wayne as a way to make it easier to deal with.

That would've just turned into bloodshed, so she'd declined.

At least Happy was worried enough to remind Brook to call him if something happened, but
he sent her off with one last reminder not to kill Batman for legality's sake. In the past few
days, Brooklyn had turned that promise over and over again with the urge to break it.

That first day had been...uncomfortable to say the least.

A group of mean-looking assistants had greeted Brooklyn at the entrance, guiding her
towards the elevator leading to their boss. She'd nervously picked at her pencil skirt during
that long ascend, telling herself that if Damian had survived one day with her dad, then she
could do the same with his.
But then she'd seen Bruce Wayne, gaze on opened folders inside an office that was lavish in
an ancient sort of way, so unlike the modern design of the CEO office at Stark Industries.

This office was dark, cold, devoid of feelings and personal items.

Its walls were covered with old bookcases, chairs of ancient design, desk made of the darkest
marble. There were no windows, only hung portraits full of diplomas, credentials, and news
articles with praise of the company.

Though, Brook had spotted a few innocent-looking picture frames on the main desk, but
given their position, she was not able see them.

Her inspection had been cut short when Bruce had greeted her, not with words, but a simple
gesture towards a stack of leather folders by the edge of his desk.

"I want those done in three hours" Bruce had said seriously, "get to work"

Brooklyn had balked at the pile of work, only able to see what was in them when an assistant
had silently led her to a small office the size of a simple closet at the end of the hall. It was
dark, windowless, with only a mediocre table, decent computer, an uncomfortable chair, a
useless lamp, and a bookcase with important document references that took up most of her
walking space.

The assistant had looked almost smug leaving Brook there to her own devices.

It turned out, the mass of paperwork were financial reviews and documents that needed their
amounts checked. Hours and hours were slaved over them, to the point that Brooklyn through
she might loose her mind if she had to add something else.

It didn't help that even eighty floors up, one could hear the police sirens from down below,
the occasional gunshot, or crowds screaming. These things did not seem to bother any of the
other workers, as if they were used to this.

It took everything in Brooklyn not to leave her office, find a little hidden alley, change into
her Firestar armor, and jump out a window to help. Having Brooklyn Stark and Firestar in
one city at the same time would be too suspicious, and her mountains of work could not
afford to be ignored for even a precious second.

So she worked and worked.

Brook didn't even have time to ask Damian about his own 'luck' at Stark Industries, or
seconds to wonder if Harry was doing alright at LexCorp, wondering if the training they had
given him the days prior had been enough for him to remember and be cautious enough to do
what needed to be done.

The darkness of the room was also somewhat unsettling, the whispers beyond the door
maddening. It didn't help that everyone in the building she came across during short breaks
looked about ready to tell her off or spit on the very ground she walked on.
Brooklyn had tried to be kind and approachable the way her mom and dad were, but no one
seemed to want to associate with a Stark as if they feared their jobs would be revoked for it.

Luckily, Brook did not mind the loneliness, but what did make her days a living hell was the
way Bruce Wayne acted around her. She'd been expecting displeasure and annoyance, but the
man took those expectations a step further by critiquing every inch of her work.

More than once, Brooklyn had been sent back to her little office to fix a ridiculous request.

The title of the document should be in another font.

I want the total financial numbers for the week placed on left columns alone.

Why did you finish this so quickly? Check it again for mistakes.

On and on, there was always something to be fixed. And on days she was to trail Mr. Wayne
to business meetings or to visits to various departments, Bruce made sure critique her every
move in front of his workers.

Your heels are too loud, Miss Stark. Prioritize work before fashion next time.

Why aren't you taking notes on everything from the presentation? No detail is too small to
miss.

You shouldn't show emotions in front of them, don't look so tired.

The truth was, Brooklyn WAS tired.

Everyday she went to school, proceeded to come to Gotham to be greeted with piles of work,
and once she was dropped off back home by Happy, she had patrols to do...and when she
didn't, it was just time used for homework, decathlon studies, or hours dedicated to her team's
secret endeavors.

It also didn't help that the Gotham reporters did not seem to have the same civility as those in
Queens. As soon as she stepped out of Happy's car, cameras and interviewers were waiting
before the building's doors to try and tear her apart like hungry vultures to a carcass.

They asked Brooklyn annoying questions in those seconds it took to make it from the car to
the doors, looking like they might very well kill one another for the next headline quote while
they were at it.

Did you father not want you to intern at his company?

Rumor has it that Carmine Falcone, the famous mob boss in the city, has offered you a
marriage deal with his son Mario. Is that why you chose to intern here, since the family was
once close to the Waynes?

A Stark has not set foot in Gotham City for decades, were you punished into doing so?
Brooklyn had learned quickly enough that she needed to keep her head held high, ignoring
the flashes of the cameras as she reluctantly took a bit of advice from Bruce to not be torn
apart by all the people in this city.

Brook hid her emotions as best she could until she was in the privacy of her quaint office.
Only then would she silently scream at the walls, curse the small attempts on her life from the
past few days by nameless criminals, Poison Ivy, the Court of Owls, and some idiot named
Jervis Tetch that took the Mad Hatter look a little too far.

No one had come to her rescue any of those times, no one had done anything but run away at
the sight of familiar villains the city likely knew by heart. Luckily, Brook had never needed
to showcase her own abilities, not when the Gotham police seemed to be close by and at the
ready.

Like they had known attempts on her life would be inevitable and didn't want the wrath of an
Avenger on their doorstep.

None of the villains were ever captured, mostly because they didn't dare to be in 'Batman
territory' for long once they saw a kill would not come easily. Brook never mentioned the
attempts of her life to Bruce Wayne, not even to Damian who already had enough to worry
about as it was...but it was exhausting to always be on guard.

It reminded her of the first days of freedom form the Red Room when Brook had stayed
awake at nights ready to flee, looked around every corner for an assailant.Times when she
couldn't live in peace.

She supposed some good news were the fact that her friends were not as worn out by their
internships. In fact, most of them seemed quite happy with that they had chosen. Even Harry
seemed to enjoy the detective work he was doing! It was only Brooklyn and Damian that
seemed to be on the verge of destroying something by the end of the week.

Their late night talks went from just discussing anything causal they felt like sharing, to
complaining about one another's fathers for hours. Luckily, that hadn't created a bridge
between their something more, but it was getting harder and harder for the two teens to hope
this little plan would help their parents hate the other less.

Today though, Brooklyn was not only forced to sit next to Bruce on a lavish car to go to
another company building on another side of the city, but she had to do so as he pulled out a
tablet with notes on all her mistakes for the day.

Honestly, Damian had once mentioned that his brother Tim was the one who took care of the
company most days, especially with the Batman's relentless search for the Joker and
Scarecrow. It seemed that just as dad was making time to annoy Damian personally, Bruce
Wayne couldn't pass up the opportunity either.

Tim she could've handled.

Brooklyn and Bruce had arrived at their destination 30 minutes later (with a cluster of six
guards around them till they made it inside, despite the fact that they were Batman and
Firestar. Though that might've been for appearance's sake), and she'd been forced to watch as
the man ruthlessly inspected every aspect of the Wayne Research Institute. It was honestly
ridiculous that no one had figured Batman used the findings from this branch for his own
uses.

But if there is one thing Brook had caught on in her time here in Gotham, was that the people
here did not question things very often. They were content to know less if it meant safety,
were pleased to have others deal with the bad if it meant more peace of mind for them. Their
only instinct was to survive, they could easily turn a bling eye to a crime if it meant being
unbothered and unharmed.

The people here did not believe in heroes or gods, they believed in vigilantes and money.

No wonder this city was burdened with a thunder storm every other day, its morale was about
as high as an ant's nest. In fact, Brook could've sworn she'd seen a cop rob a couple on their
way to this building and no one had cared.

It was making her angry, being worked to death without being able to help anyone here.

What was worse was the fact that Bruce's only goal in teaching her about her job was to do so
harshly and methodically. No one else had signed up for an internship here, so all the man's
focus was on her. Then again, even if someone else had stood beside Brook, Bruce would've
likely not given them the 'Stark treatment'.

That late Friday afternoon. Brooklyn walked out of the building with enough paperwork to
take up a sizable chunk of her weekend away. Like her mood, the weather was on full blast
on their journey back on the road, with wild winds, relentless rain, and thunder that seemed
to crack the skies open without mercy.

As she looked out the car window, Brook almost frowned upon realizing this bleary city was
all she'd be seeing for the foreseeable future. It had always seemed less bleak when she'd
been with Damian the few times she visited him home, but she supposed Bruce had the
money to make his chunk of Gotham habitable.

The man in question was still shouting out instructions on the paperwork Brooklyn would
have to do to show the progress reports properly. She'd almost told him he'd explained
himself thrice already just to annoy her, but then the car swerved in a dangerous maneuver
that had Brook holding onto her seat, itching for the weapons hidden in her person in case it
came down to a fight.

Because she knew by now that in Gotham, it always came down to a fight.

Another thing she'd learned about this town was that even though Bruce Wayne practically
owned Gotham, he had just as many enemies under than name as he did as Batman. Being
around him was having a target on her back, an additional one to the target she already
carried for just being a Stark.

"What is it?" Bruce asked the driver, voice deep and calm, even when his own hands seemed
to be reaching for whatever weapon he had hidden in his coat.
The driver sent back a string of apologies, mentioning the streets had begun to flood due to
the storm, that roads were closing up because of the dangers of driving around at the moment.

"The worst part of the winter storm is almost upon us" the driver said, voice shaking as he
added, "I don't think we'll make it back to the company building before it catches us, sir"

Bruce didn't seem annoyed, only resigned as he suggested they go back to his home since it
was much closer.

Brooklyn straightened up at that, looking up at the tall man with a panicked expression.

"So you're going to leave me on the side of the street or something while you get to go home?
Its not like I can fly to safety or something" she asked, almost tempted to tell him just how
much of his paperwork would get ruined by the rain and snow in a not-so-nice way.

Damian's dad let out an exasperated sigh, telling the driver to head to the Wayne Manor
before closing the window separating them from the front of the car. Then he turned to face
her.

"I don't hate you enough to risk your life, you'll just have to stay at my home for the rest of
the day until it's safe. I had plans for today which will be ruined by your presence, but it will
do no good to rush you out with this large storm tonight, so I'll have a driver take you home
at sunrise"

Brooklyn couldn't help it, she let out a surprised chuckle.

"I thought you said you wouldn't save me?" she mocked, recalling the warnings the man had
made against her long ago.

The man glared, blue eyes like freezing ice.

"I said I wouldn't save you if you hurt my son or got him killed. You haven't yet, so my
unfortunate offer to take safe haven at my home still stands"

Bruce Wayne said that as if he though Brook would one day hurt Dami. Of course she'd never
do that.Still, she couldn't help but chuckle again at another thought....

How many times had she snuck into his home only to be reluctantly invited today?

As much as she didn't want to take his rare kindness after all he'd put her through lately, plus
all the words he'd thrown her way prior to that, Brook knew Happy wouldn't even be able to
make it into Gotham with this storm. Even dad's suits, however sturdy, would not be able to
fight a storm either.

Both Bruce and Brooklyn knew there was no other way, so she nodded in silent agreement,
but refused to thank him for the offer itself.

To her surprise, Mr. Wayne spent the rest of the car ride making a series of calls. Not
warnings to his family members as to their unwelcome guest, or preparations to get their bat-
shaped pitchforks ready since an evil Stark was coming over.
Bruce made several calls to the Gotham police stations ordering them to take in as many
homeless people as possible. Others were to shelters he owned which he ordered reopened,
hospitals to open more emergency rooms, and food banks to deliver food for those who might
need it.

Even though he was nothing more than a CEO to the public eye, no one seemed to deny his
requests. King of Gotham indeed...

The last of his calls were to the Wayne Enterprises buildings to order all workers to go home
to their families (with payed leave) for the duration of the storm, and even some to cab
companies to pick up any pedestrians seen on the streets so everyone could make it home
safely.

Brooklyn was a little shocked by the kindness Bruce Wayne could display, that in some way
or another, he genuinely cared about Gotham and was its protector even without the cowl
mask.

Then again, of course she'd only seen him be an ass, she was a Stark after all.

That afternoon, Brook did not go into the Wayne Manor through a secret open window as per
usual, but through the front door with its master. The action was odd enough that Brooklyn
refrained from saying anything and instead silently arranged all the documents she'd been
given into her favorite red purse (one mom had given her as a good luck charm for her
internship, an identical one to the purse Yelena had received as well).

It was a small comfort, knowing she had a piece of home going into an enemy household.

As soon as she stepped out of the car with the help of the driver, Brooklyn felt the chill of the
storm crawl its way past her black pantyhose. Even when her breezy white blouse and pencil
skirt were covered by a large red coat, the chill still made its way all over her body.

She had almost summoned a flame in hand to warm her body, a little training exercise she'd
taken to practicing to gain confidence over her abilities once more. But something told her
Bruce Wayne would not take kindly to it.

For once, Brook was thankful for the man's quick pace as they made their way up the stairs,
even if her heel-covered feet were not as happy about going up two dozen steps that way.

When the driver quickly pulled out of the driveway, the teen spared a look behind her, only to
be reminded of the time she carried a passed-out Damian in her arms up these very stairs. The
only other time she'd walked in through the front door. It made her almost giddy to see what
Damian's reaction would be to see her here, even if they'd have to play the part of enemies
before his whole family.

Family...

Brook almost stumbled a step as she realized she was getting closer and closer to properly
spending an evening with all of Dami's family, a family that (save for Alfred) hated the very
air she breathed. It occurred to her that she might not be ready for that. Damian had already
made a good impression with her grandparents, even Grandpa Steve turned the other cheek
when dad was insulting the Waynes, at least since the incident in Wakanda.

What kind of good impression could she make? If memory served, Brook beat up some of his
siblings upon their first meeting, insulted the others in their own home.

Oh boy...

Her only hope was that not many of them would be home today, after all, Damian said it was
rare to find all his siblings in one place at a time.

Once by the door, Bruce turned to raise a brow at Brooklyn's still form stuck mid-step.

"Are you coming in or not, Stark?" he said.

Brooklyn beheld the giant mansion behind him, the glow of lights inside, then the ever
nearing black clouds up above.

With much steadier steps, Brooklyn tried to push all her worries aside.

That is how the Stark found herself going inside the Wayne mansion, unaware of just how
unheard all her prayers had been.

Damian POV-

He'd almost debated taking supper in his room with how tired he was.

As per usual Tony Stark had made Damian take on the stupidest of tasks, and after a long day
of his internship, all he wanted to do was stay in bed with Titus and Alfred the cat.

Goliath was now too big to fit on the bed, a fact that made the growing beast all the more
emotional every day. But the Dragon Bat easily curled up on the ground (Titus beside him),
feel asleep in seconds after greeting Damian actually.

Unfortunately, his own sleep would have to wait, because Pennyworth had decided a family
dinner was long overdue, and with the growing talks of a long storm, it's not like anyone else
had anything better to do since they were stuck inside.

That why Damian found himself at the large dinning room table, fighting the urge to slouch
in his chair as Stephanie and Tim made their way inside the room, hand in hand.

As per usual, his sister tried to greet him by messing up his hair, but Damian's reflexes caught
her hand before they could.

"You're no fun, little D" she said, pointing as she took the seat beside what looked to be a
fully caffeinated Tim. Looked like the nap Pennyworth made Tim take this afternoon had
made a difference. He no longer looked like a zombie, but something akin to a barely rotting
corpse.
An improvement.

As Damian summoned his strength of will to get through what was likely to be another mess
of a family dinner, Barbara came in clutching various blankets over her body, Dick trailing
behind her as they took the seats before Damian's.

The two must've had another movie night after patrols. With Starfire visiting the Amazons,
Dick must be under the weather again. Usually, Damian would make fun of his eldest brother
for missing a person enough to note their absence, but ever since Brooklyn...the teen found
himself understanding what it was like to miss the person you were closest to.

So he said nothing of it.

Both Barbara and Dick waved his way, not expecting much of a greeting back as they got
back to talking about some unnecessarily sad ending to a movie, still wrapped in their
blankets.

Damian was not at all surprised to see Cassandra silently slipping into the room without their
knowing, taking a seat beside him. She greeted the others, but when she did so with Damian,
the two merely exchanged sign language.

Cassandra had been in charge of patrols today, he figured she must be exhausted enough as it
was to muster up a greeting.

Again, as per usual, Jason was the last of them to show up, and he did so loudly as he
complained over the incoming storm.

"I hope that if we do get snowed in, some good comes out of it" Todd said, jumping onto his
chair and sitting sideways (the way Pennyworth had forbidden) before adding, "At least there
is a chance B won't make it back home in time. What a loser"

Damian was glad to see Jason took the chair as far from him as possible, it made whispering
of insults all the easier to go unnoticed by anyone but Cass.

He should've know everyone would gather at the manor today to bother him tomorrow...just
like they did every year.

Much to Jason's despair, the front door rang announcing father's arrival, and Pennyworth's
faint conversation with him from the front door only confirmed it. Damian couldn't help but
smirk when Jason grumpily handed a few crumpled bills to Steph and Dick's per their bet on
father's arrival.

Only all fun and games ended as soon as they heard steps approaching.

Jason was likely about to cuss out father for his arrival and the losses it cost him just as
Barbara was telling the table about a new librarian job she got today, when they all went
silent at the sight before them.

Father walked into the room with a frown on his face, almost grumpily taking his seat at the
head of the table. Damian barely noticed father, because his wide eyes were still by the
entrance where Pennyworth stood happily beside....beside Brooklyn.

Even when Dick, Barbara, and Jason were likely breaking their backs turning to face the
doors, no one moved or said a word. No one dared.

"We have a guest today" Pennyworth said, taking Brook's purse and coat before looking
everyone at the table in the eye (lingering on father the most) as he added, "I expect you all to
be in your best behavior"

Damian didn't dare let his eyes linger on his beloved's own for too long, not when he was in a
room full of his family. A room of trained observants. He could only watch from the corner
of his eye as Dick gestured to the seat beside him almost numbly.

Brooklyn took it, now sitting on the other side of the table from Damian.

They all sat around in silence for a while, staring at their silver utensils as they tried to make
sense of the situation. Damian was actually shocked his siblings did not show the same hatred
father did at the sight of their guest. They seemed confused and...nervously excited?

Finally, as the platters of food arrived at the table and Pennyworth left to feed the cats, father
explained, "Because of the storm, Miss Stark will have to stay the night. Try not to kill her"

Damian was almost horrified when he noticed Tim and Jason's confusion had turned into
devilish smirks, not exactly knowing if it meant they were planning to torment Brook during
her stay.

He would have to get crafty in defending her without it seeming like he was.

Surprisingly, it was Cass that spoke up next, voice leveled and serious as she said to
Brooklyn, "I assume you will need nightclothes then. You are welcome to try some of
mine...guest"

Brooklyn nodded, once, twice, then turned away from Cassandra's intense stare.

Stephanie beamed then, pushing back fallen tendrils of her blonde hair as she added, "If
short-stack's clothes don't fit you I can lend you some of my own. Heaven knows I have a
much better sense of style than my dear sister"

Cass and Steph traded a not so subtle middle finger at the words, Brook and Damian
watching the exchange silently until his beloved nodded Steph's way either in thanks or
acceptance.

It wasn't until now that Damian realized his muscles were tense, that his hands had traveled
to the Batarangs hidden in his pockets. He was nervously waiting for a fight to break out, in
which he had no doubt he'd defend Brooklyn even if it meant not only fighting his siblings,
but exposing the truth of just how far their 'peace treaty' really went.

Luckily the doors into the dinning room opened once more, this time revealing a sleepy-
looking umi. She held a hand on her swollen belly, sniffing at the food as if she hadn't eaten
in months.
Brooklyn, who was amongst the closest to the door, was the first to stand almost in a panic as
she noticed Damian's umi sway on her feet. It was a habit Selina had taken to ease the soles
of her feet, so they no longer worried it was a sign she was about to fall.

His beloved didn't know that, which is why she rushed out of her chair to place a steading
hand on both of umi's shoulders.

"Whoah! Are you alright?" Brooklyn asked, clearly forgetting she was supposed to be a
family enemy as she helped umi to her seat at the other end of the table.

No one stood to help, they were too flabbergasted to do so by what Damian could tell.

Umi went wide eyed at the sight of Brook, but did not question it. She merely smiled at the
Stark once seated and said, "I'm quite alright, just letting my feet relax after coming down a
flight of stairs. Thank you anyways"

Brooklyn blinked slowly as if realizing what she'd done, then turned to the silent stares
locked her way and said, "What? Even if we're all supposed to hate one another I still have
manners"

Jason chuckled at that, raising his glass of wine in mock salute.

Now that umi declared they should eat, Damian was almost embarrassed to see Brook's shock
at how his family was quick to grab food onto their plates. They were all heavy eaters,
always had been thanks to their...energy consuming lifestyles, and it was always a war of
sorts trying to grab food that you liked before it was gone.

As the food was consumed in relative silence, large paintings of Wayne's past staring down
the table at a guest they'd likely dismiss if they were alive, it was father that spoke up and
asked, "Damian, how was your internship with Anthony today? Insufferable I imagine"

It was umi that whispered a bit harshly, "Bruce, please"

Ignoring her pleading, father turned to Damian, likely expecting him to follow along to piss
off Brooklyn. He knew he should for their image's sake, that Brooklyn would not take it
personally.

"Nothing to report, father" was what he said instead, "Same as always, nothing that can't be
handled by someone like me"

From across the table, he could've sworn Brooklyn's tense stare softened ever so slightly
when she locked eyes with him, which was only interrupted when father added, "Glad to see
you're doing well. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for my intern, there is much work that
still needs to be done"

Damian's grip on his weapons tightened, even if no one could see it.

Brook and father were locked in an intense glare-off which was only made to seem more
intense by the distant yet loud sounds of thunder from the incoming storm.
This time, it was Dick that pleaded, "B, we should just eat and go to bed, the kids must be
exhausted after a long day. Who's down for peace today? Anyone with me?"

All but Jason, father, Damian, and Brooklyn raised their hands.

"Alfred told us to behave" Barbara added nervously, "I don't know about you guys but I'm too
tired to clean the house from top to bottom or whatever punishment the cleaning devil on
Alfred's left shoulder can come up with"

Damian could tell whatever anger at seeing a Stark in his home made father push away all
form of rationality, and Brooklyn's own patience was't far off, especially as father added,
"Miss Stark probably doesn't know what punishment even is, not when she's been raised by a
teenager in an adult body"

Brooklyn placed her hands on the table, and Damian recognized that look in her eyes, the one
that signified a fight. In all honesty, Damian wasn't sure he had the control over his own
anger to stop her from attacking his father for that comment.

Even with umi's silent scolding, that did very little to stop Brook from firing back, "You
know what? Say it, all-mighty Batman. Say what you want to say to me, tell me how much
you hate me. Go ahead and get it over with"

Father causally leaned back on his chair, looking her dead in the eye as he obliged.

"I don't take orders from a young girl who thinks running around Queens can atone for lives
taken. After what happened at Bermuda, I got a little curious, so I found your Red Room
report. I know you likely relished so much in killing that those 1136 kills from your time
there likely mean nothing to you. I know you that you are dangerous, and I don't like having
dangers in my home, especially not where my kids and pregnant wife are here. Because thats
what you are Miss Stark, you are nothing but Ivan's killer, content with letting the world
think you're something good. I know about the nagor'ye training exercise, I know what kind
of murderer you are and if the world knew they wouldn't..."

Brooklyn went still, pale, even when her anger was still present.

Damian had never heard of something called the nagor'ye training exercise, knew for a fact
even Brooklyn had not known how many lives she'd been forced to take in the Red Room.
That was cruel news to her too.

"Is that a threat? You're seriously threatening me with my past? How mature of you" Brook
shot back after gathering her wits, "Only then will the world be safe right? Once I'm out of
the spotlight rather than the Joker killed, right?"

Damian was about to damn the consequences and rush to her side, but then father added,
"You Miss Stark, were trained to be nothing more than a killer, and that's what you will
always be-"

One second, Damian was almost blinded by his rage, the next, a plate of mashed potatoes hit
father square in the face.
It wasn't Brook who threw it, not even the chaos-inducing Jason. Damian's small bit of
control had not faltered either...

As the plate slowly slid off father's face, leaving a trail of mashed potatoes stuck to his
shocked face, they all turned to see it was Cass of all people who stood with her arm raised
from the throw.

She was frowning, angry as she said, "You know that girl didn't have any more of a choice
into that life as I did, or Damian for that matter. You, Jason, and Tim trained in the League
too, killed for monsters like Ivan. No one is innocent of those crimes at this table, and you've
never held them against us"

Despite father's shock, something had been started that could no longer be stopped. Next
thing Damian knew, a salad plate had been thrown at Cass. It did little damage since the girl
next to him blocked the incoming attack by punching a plate up in the air as a shield, but
Barbara still yelled, "I trained with the League too! Only for a few months, but why did you
leave me out!?"

Quicker than Damian could truly process, more food began to fly across the table, and soon
his favorite cashmere sweater was stained by ranch dressing.

Shouts could be heard with each throw, each louder than the last as Damian looked across the
table to see Brooklyn's anger simmer down, raising and eyebrow in confusion. A part of
Damian wished he could tell her this was somewhat normal...but that wouldn't have excused
the mess that was his family.

Apple slices were thrown at father by Jason as he shouted, "Seriously, its just as annoying
when you give the killing talk to someone else!"

Stephanie followed up with a splash of wine at Jason as she said, "I'm a bad bitch too! Why
are we only shitting on the League and Red Room!?"

On and on the accusations went, from something as ridiculous as Tim leaving his dirty socks
in Dick's room, to arguments about just who at this table was the deadliest. Soon, it didn't
even matter who was fighting with who, everyone was throwing the remainders of their
meals at one another.

Damian considered doing what he did when things ended up like this and just leaving, but
Brooklyn was here, throwing grilled cheese sandwiches at father. It was their vow and
promise to face all good and bad together, so at the expense of his meticulously clean clothes,
Damian joined the fray.

First order of business; save his beloved.

Just as a giant plate of burgers was frisbee-thrown Brook's way while she was engaged in a
grapefruit fight against Drake, Damian launched himself across the table to tackle her into a
'fight' of their own.
He did his best to make sure she'd land unharmed, and she seemed to sense so, because while
the two were out of sight of those around them, tangled in the tablecloth under the table, she
shot him a quick apologetic smile.

Damian didn't know why she'd bother apologizing when father had begun the taunts, the fact
that she had restrained herself so long was enough to show the efforts she clearly put into
being peaceful with the others for his sake.

Then that smile turned feline, and then his beloved smeared a line of strawberry pudding
across his face.

The two of them laid there, with him still atop her, unable to restrain their smiles. This was
not exactly how Damian imagined spending time with Brooklyn after their long and busy
schedules finally cleared up, but that didn't stop him from reaching across the floor for some
ketchup to spread across her forehead.

It was probably good that the two rose from the floor covered in food, still chasing one
another for appearance's sake. On and on the fights continued, turning from something full of
tension and anger to an act of war that was almost comical and childish.

Grayson was cheating, summersaulting across the table dousing everyone in grape juice,
while Steph and Brooklyn briefly put their differences aside to create a chair fort for pregnant
umi. Selina may be less capable of movement, but she was still hurling whatever food she
could come across.

Umi always loved a good fight after all.

Damian made sure to direct most of his attacks at his three elder brothers, as well as father.
Not that he needed to anyways, the floor was so slippery that Tim kept falling on the floor
much to the amusement of everyone in the room.

Just as Damian was about to kick a plate of sardines Jason's way, the doors of the dinning
room opened with an echoing boom that was timed just right to go long with the loud thunder
outdoors.

Pennyworth stood there, arms crossed, his mean face on.

Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing, finally taking a look around the mess
of a room...and themselves. Even the once judgmental portraits of perished Waynes along the
walls were covered in food.

Father seemed to get the worst of it, broccoli stuck to his black hair, ketchup across his once
white shirt, and enough wines stains that his navy-blue pants now looked black.

It was to him that Pennyworth turned his wrath to, as if he knew father had been the cause of
this mess. No one helped him or shouldered the blame, not when Pennyworth's wrath was
mercifully away from them.
Then the yelling spread, everyone got a good talking to (even umi ), and though Damian
would never admit it...the own yelling Damian got was stern enough that he'd never dream of
talking back. Pennyworth may be an old man, but he was the structure and order of this
household, that made him deadlier than anyone here.

Damian still wasn't afraid of anything of course, it was just sometimes best to let the old man
do all the talking...

In fact, the only one that didn't get yelled at was Brooklyn, whom Pennyworth walked
towards with a fresh towel, offering his sincerest apologies for the mess. Damian was almost
tempted to smirk with pride as his beloved let herself be guided out of the room by
Pennyworth, but not without shooting his scolded father a malicious grin.

Everyone else was given an order to shower and clean the room, meanwhile Pennyworth took
Brook to their nicest guest room to get washed and changed without being given the task to
help.

Damian had gone ahead and cleaned what he could, sparing umi the burden to help by doing
her assigned tasks as well. If the others found it odd, Damian payed them no mind, they all
looked like idiots as it was anyways.

By the time everyone was showered and the room was clean, Pennyworth assembled them to
ensure the unprompted movie night would not be ruined by more fights. So when Brooklyn
descended to the living room with Titus and Goliath in tow which father had to blink twice at.

Father had thrown caution at the wind, making a comment about Titus and Goliath being so
friendly to Brooklyn because they recognized a fellow beast when they saw one, which
earned him a glare from umi that kept him quiet for the rest of the movie.

Though Goliath was as tall as Damian's chest, he didn't listen to his complaints and took a
seat between himself and Brook, Titus guarding them from the floor. At least Damian and his
beloved got their own couch....

Even so, they didn't dare share a single word, not when eyes kept moving their way
throughout the movie.

By bed time, the storm was in full blast, enough so that no one felt like staying up longer than
they should thanks to the horrific sounds of nature's wrath outside. Damian didn't know
Pennyworth's scolding had scared his siblings enough that they bid Brook goodnight, politely.

His beloved had played her part well, replying politely enough that it almost sounded fake.

But then...Brooklyn had stopped Dick on his way out, and Damian barely caught the words
when she silently thanked him for saving her that day at the Bermuda Triangle, something
Damian had completely forgotten about.

In turn, Dick happily shared his own thanks for saving Drake's and umi's lives during the
Osborn gala...and that was that.
Father hadn't bothered with polite farewells, taking umi's hand and heading to their own
rooms (though umi did shoot Brooklyn a kind nod before leaving).

Once everyone was gone, Damian told Pennyworth he could take Brook to the guest room, to
which the old man smiled and left them to their own devices without questioning it.

Brooklyn didn't complain when they headed for his room for a while, in which she explained
her day and how she ended up here as they did a bit of nightly research on the mission at
hand. No one ever came into his room, which is why Damian had freely allowed the once
clean space to become crowded with news articles on Lex, and maps tracing MJ's discoveries
as well as frequented targets for crime.

Brook took the time to listen to his own day as she lay on his bed, also making sure to text
her father that she was safe in a hotel room to prevent an angry Avenger from bursting
through the window. Then she texted her mother, Pepper Potts, and the two arranged for the
woman to pick her up in the morning.

Titus and Goliath joined them, and now that Brook was not surrounded by his family, she too
off her vibranium bracelets and summoned enough fire to keep Goliath happy. Damian could
tell she was more careful about it, not summoning as much as she once did, likely due to
what happened a few days ago.

Still drying her hair, Brooklyn said "Told you I was making progress with your dad"

Damian paused his analyzing of the Joker's movements to say sarcastically, "He wanted to
murder you during supper"

She shrugged, smoothing the wrinkles in the large Looney Toons tee Stephanie provided
before countering, "But he let me into his home"

"Fair" he replied, moving to take a seat beside her on the bed, much to the annoyance of Titus
who'd been taking up that spot earlier.

Brook had been quick to curl up to his chest, looking as tired as he felt. But their moments
together were rare now a days, even if they still went to school together and did patrols as
much as they could.

Damian wouldn't admit it, but he'd missed her touch, which is probably why he hugged her
close in those fleeting hours they had to just be Brooklyn and Damian. The two stayed there,
not quite sure today had occurred until it got late and Brook returned to her room before Tim
could wake for his midnight cup of coffee.

Damian then laid alone in bed, astounded his beloved was only a few doors down thanks to
the vast storm outside, luck so absurd it was almost laughable.

Though the evening had resulted in a food fight, no one had been killed, which Damian
considered as good a win as he could.
His family still likely hated Brooklyn, but perhaps not as much as when she came in. That
was the hope at least, because Damian did not see their relationship stopping anytime
soon...and he really hoped the day wouldn't come when he'd have to choose between her and
his family.
 Revelations at the Wayne Manor & Farmhouse

Selina Kyle (Wayne) POV-

It was early in the morning when Selina woke up to the kicking of her baby against her
stomach. The kicking itself was not painful, but the attention served a reminder that they
were both hungry.

God, she was always hungry now a days...

So being careful not to wake her husband, Selina wobbled out of the bedroom on stealthy
steps only an alley cat like herself possessed. At this hour, when the sun was barely on the
horizon, no one would be awake. Maybe Selina would indulge a craving or two before Alfred
woke up with his reminders that peanut butter covered ice cream was not an acceptable food
item.

Only...the kitchen was not alone when she arrived.

As soon as Selina peeked into the kitchen door to see what all the muffled noise was about,
she was quickly reminded why her husband had gone to bed huffing and complaining (and
not just because of the Joker or Scarecrow this time). Mentioned he had wanted to say
something to them and felt Brooklyn Stark being here had hindered that, the reason why he
had summoned all the kids a day before they were expected.

Then again, her husband was a secretive bastard, getting answers out of him was next to
impossible unless he wanted to reveal them.

But the woman was a little surprised by the reminder that Brooklyn Stark was still here, that
someone of her family tree had stayed overnight and not been pranked or killed. It actually
took her a few seconds to realize that was not what was happening inside the kitchen right
now.

The sight before her was truly something to behold, something that made Selina pause, hand
on her swollen belly, smile brighter than it had been in a while.

Her son was behind the kitchen counter, black hair lazily styled, but he looked more relaxed
than he normally let others see. In fact, Selina noted that it was not often for Damian to come
downstairs in casual workout sweatpants and one of his art stained long-sleeves like he was
right now.

Beside him was the girl they'd had over unexpectedly for dinner. The princess of New York
looked anything but like the young girl in magazines. She wearing another set of pjs from last
night, the black sweatpants Stephanie had lent, and the red long sleeve Barbara had
contributed. Miss Stark was devoid of her usual rouge lipstick, yet looked as naturally
beautiful without it, especially with the beaming smile she sent Damian's way as the two
teens tossed a bottle of orange juice to one another.
Yes, the shock of that sight was enough for Selina to stand there, an immovable object that
felt tears pool at her eyes.

There was no trace of the usually stoic Damian Wayne right now, only a teenage boy who
looked happy as could be to chase around a girl. That unrestrained smile...the ease in his
body language as he picked up the auburn haired girl and spun her around...Selina was almost
certain no one in this home would believe her if she were to share this sight.

"Curse your long limbs!" Brooklyn Stark muttered, shifting around in a move than could pin
a person to the floor, instead using it to face the boy that kept his hands around her middle.
Once the Stark faced Selina's son, she ruffled his black hair some more, and the Arabic curses
Damian sent her way were said softly and with a smirk, no bite behind them.

Selina stared in awe as Damian gently set the Stark back on her feet, but did not shy away
from the physical contact he denied from every other being on this planet.

He whispered, "Its payback for training this morning, and for stealing Batcow's affection"

Training?!

Damian had always made a habit of being an early bird, but the two teens must've woken up
before the sun to have finished their training already. Most impressive of all was the fact that
Brooklyn joked about the Batcave as if being invited down there was not an exclusive
privilege given to family members.

He'd actually taken her down there...

"You already spoil Titus and Goliath, you shouldn't have done so with Batcow. When she
wants to visit you and can't, Batcow will be insufferable in your absence" Damian pointed
out, running the tips of his fingers in random lines across the girl's back, which the Stark did
not shy away from or seemed surprised by.

The Stark rolled her eyes in a way that was so like her father, then said with an air of ease,
"When you mentioned you had a cow, I thought you were joking. You know, the young
Damian Wayne had a farm joke and all that"

"Have you ever known me to jest?" Selina's son said, clearly trying but failing to be as
serious as usual.

The woman was trying, and failing, to keep her astonishment at bay as the young girl with
fiery locks replied, "The few times you've done it, I've found the jokes to be worthy of a few
laughs. But its your birthday, so I'll try and be the one who makes the jokes so I can selfishly
look at your smile"

Damian's eyes went wide, and Selina expected him to mention that he NEVER let anyone
celebrate his birthday. Instead, that son of hers surprised her once more by merely asking,
"Who told you?"

Just as realization seemed to strike Damian, both teens said, "Jon"

"Look at the group chat, everyone has likely sent their congratulations since midnight. And I
know you won't like it, but Tanya and Peter are already planning a secret celebration for you,
Jon and I helped with the present picking, and Aunt May made you a cake we can eat before
school on Monday"

Selina watched as Damian was struck with disbelief, but he didn't yell or complain, only
stared down at the girl who merely got on the tips of her toes to place a kiss...ok yes that was
a fucking kiss...on Damian's nose, then another between his brows, a peck on each cheek...

THEN A SOFT AND GENTLE KISS ON DAMIAN'S LIPS WHICH HE DID NOT BACK
AWAY FROM OR SEEM EVEN THE SLIGHTEST BIT SURPRISED BY. HE JUST
KISSED HER BACK!!!!!!!

All this time Selina had thought Damian's disgust for physical affection might be a lifetime
thing, that was until she beheld said boy kissing a girl he most definitely should not care for
at all by Wayne standards.

Selina had to place a hand on her mouth to keep surprised screams at bay, felt the kicking of
her unborn child as if the baby knew something legendary (and forbidden) was happening
and was cheering said older brother on.

Ohhhh....Selina definitely was not meant to see that, but now that she had...and gods help
Bruce if he ever does anything to get between those two. Because Damian has never looked
so happy and at ease with anyone in his life.

But, wasn't the Stark dating that boy from the theatre? The sweet one with big chocolate
brown eyes and adorable curls in his hair. This affection Brooklyn and Damian shared
seemed private and forbidden in the way them being from rival families would cause. And
Damian, despite his stubbornness, didn't seem like the type to accept cheating.

Maybe Brooklyn Stark truly wasn't dating the Spider-man after all like she and her husband
had suspected. Perhaps there was something more precious the Stark had been guarding, a
secret she treasured enough to make it seem like she was dating that other boy at the theatre...

Selina did not dare turn back to look inside the room as Damian began listening to voice
messages from more than just Jon, but quite a few unfamiliar voices...as if he had friends,
and lots of them. He may have grunted displeasingly and complained about the absurdity of it
all, but even Brooklyn was able to call out that he was not the least bit angry about the
attention.

"Jon told me you don't celebrate your birthdays, so I won't push it too far because I know
what that's like. But I am glad I get to celebrate the day of your birth with you, even if we had
not anticipated it. Happy Birthday, Dami" the woman heard Brooklyn say, followed by a
reply of, "An unexpected gift I suppose. Thank you, my beloved"

Selina was ready to scream in joy right then and there, especially as she heard the Stark do
right by her earlier promise to try and make jokes for Damian's rare smile. Thats when she
finally dared to look.
Said joked had sparked another round of running along the large kitchen, in which the two
teens dodged and weaved around one another as if it were a playful hunt, or an intricate
dance.

It reminded Selina of the times when she and her husband were no more than two shadows
chasing one another from rooftop to rooftop.

She knew full when Bruce Wayne would not find the surprisingly beautiful moment in the
kitchen as a joyful memory of the past, or a hopeful outlook to the future. Maybe that is why
she went back down the hall she came from, this time making sure her steps were loud and
heavy as she 'sleepily' made her way towards the kitchen.

In that slow walk, Selina was struck with the final realization that there was no way those two
were not dating, and though she would die just to know how THAT came to be...she knew
prodding Damian might not be the best thing to do.

He'd only just started tolerating her after all, so she would not interfere with his personal
affairs, no matter now much she wanted to tell her son that she was both proud and happy for
him. This was a big leap, one Damian had ever right to keep a secret.

With a thousand questions in mind, Selina walked into the kitchen, finding it not as full of joy
and smiles as seconds ago. Brooklyn and Damian sat on opposite ends of the kitchen counter,
not looking at one another, doing their best to look annoyed and indifferent.

"Good morning, umi " Damian said, a greeting Selina was still getting used to but loved
above all else.

The woman was surprised when Miss Stark also bid her a good morning, standing to help
Selena take a seat on one of the stools. When she raised a brow at the action and realized
Damian didn't, the girl explained, "I used to live in Brooklyn before I moved to Queens.
There was a woman in my apartment complex that was pregnant. I used to help her up the
steps when I could since she complained about feet and back pains all the time"

Selina smiled.

"I suppose aside from thanking you for this, I never did thank you for saving my life at the
gala" she realized, "You gave up your armor for me without a second thought"

Brooklyn shrugged, making sure to take a seat far from Damian as possible when she replied
like it was fact, "Two lives are worth more than one. It was the right thing to do"

Selina knew that wasn't why she'd done it, the woman was probably the best liar in this home
after all. But she did not push it, and after debating the merits of apologizing to the girl for
her husband's behavior, she realized that would do next to nothing to make it better.

If Damian truly liked this girl, Selina was all for it, and perhaps she'd be the only one in the
family (aside from maybe Alfred and Damian's pets) who could make a good impression. So
she tried just that, starting conversation with the girl to her right, making sure to include the
son to her left despite his acts of aloofness and annoyance towards the Stark.
She wondered if this is what school was like for them, if this monumental effort at acting was
also implemented into their hero group and perhaps friends group given all the enthusiastic
voice messages she'd heard earlier. Selina wondered just how many moments alone the two
ever got like this morning before the woman had to cut the time short.

Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, or just the concern for her boy, but Selina found the
concept of their hiding saddening. She understood it too well, for there was a time when she
and Bruce had to keep their own thing under wraps.

Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne being together was not that much a scandal considering people
would thing she was just a one night stand or it was a business move. But Batman and Cat
Woman...that had the potential to ruin Bruce's reputation as a just vigilante if anyone got a
whiff of him dating a criminal.

They'd had to keep their thing hidden until Cat Woman had proven she'd changed for the
better, she just hoped Brooklyn and Damian wouldn't have to wait as long. To not cherish and
care for freely truly was a cruel kind of pain, one neither teen deserved.

Some time into Selina's talk about severe storms she'd witnessed in Gotham all her life ( in
which last night's did not even rank top five), Alfred had walked in with a smile on his face,
which only widened when he beheld both teens leaning on the counter to listen to Selina's
tales.

He greeted them all in kind, turned on his radio, and got to cooking. Selina was still probably
only half-awake but she could've sworn she saw Brooklyn Stark, the Princess of New York,
offer help in the kitchen.

Alfred never granted such rights so freely, especially after the mess the kids had once made in
his absence. But he merely thanked the girl and both got to work...with Damian following
shortly after.

Why Alfred trusted Damian to cook for the first time in his life, Selina wasn't sure, but
Damian made it seem as if he'd cooked plenty. The teens kept their distance, but listened to
Alfred's instructions to the letter.

It looked natural in a sense, pathetically, it almost made her cry.

The two only stopped when footsteps could be heard in the distance, in which Brooklyn got
back to her seat with the explanation, "No Wayne will eat what I cooked if they knew it came
from me"

Selina would've loved to argue against it to make their family seem perhaps just a bit more
accepting and welcoming, but she knew the girl's words held some unfortunate truth. Damian
merely stopped cooking because he claimed he'd helped enough, but he did bring Selina the
first plate of food, at which she gently touched his hand in thanks.

Had Selina not been a professional thief with eyes in the back of her head, she might've
missed the way Miss Stark smiled at the exchange. It eased something in the woman to know
the girl cared enough about Damian to also care about his life, that she found some joy in
seeing him and his umi (how she loved that word) be kind to one another.

"Thank you, abn" Selina managed to say to Damian before the horde made its way inside the
kitchen.

Almost comically, each of her kids paused in shock when they beheld the Stark sitting
patiently in a stool, slowly moved forward to kiss Selina's brow, then said their various forms
of overly affectionate good mornings to Damian (which he mostly ignored).

Alfred let the kids (who weren't really kids anymore) hug and praise his cooking, and the
morning would've seemed like all others despite the extra company had it not been for Bruce
walking in.

If only her foolish husband knew the truth, if only he could see how happy his youngest son
was, that all his complaints about Damian's safety in Queens were for nothing. A part of
Selina wished she could tell the world, let them witness the miracle she just had, but the glare
Bruce sent the young girl that was merely enjoying a bite of pancakes...yeah, she knew it
would be an awful idea.

Thankfully, Alfred made sure Bruce was at the other table with Cass, Barbara, and Tim...as
far from the island table as possible.

Selina herself ignored her husbands likely appalled look when she continued conversation
with Miss Stark, who did not seem to mind it at all.

It was once food was finished and everyone went to go do their morning training/secretly
plan Damian's birthday surprise, that Selina got to plotting when she decided the best gift she
could give her son was a subtle one.

Much to Selina's relief, Brooklyn announced to the three adults that her mom would be here
in an hour or two...so Selina causally asked her grumpy husband to carry her upstairs, that her
feet might need massaging and she was dying to get back to bed.

Bruce had not been able to deny her anything since news of the pregnancy, so despite his
angered and concern looks towards the two teens left in the kitchen with Alfred...he did as
was told.

Before leaving, Selina (being carried bridal style in Bruce's arms) suggested, "I think there
isn't too much snow in the gardens, why don't you go walk Titus and Goliath? Since they
seem to like Miss Stark so much, maybe she should tag along"

Damian blinked once as if processing the suggestion, then nodded without at fight and said,
"Of course, umi. Follow me Stark, I don't like waiting for people"

Bruce almost dropped her at the words, but steadied himself and watched the two leave out
the kitchen towards the gardens beyond after a whistle summoned the pets.
Once the two teens left and Bruce led them out of the kitchen, he said breathlessly, "He called
you mom..."

Oh, she'd almost forgotten her husband didn't know yet! Damian had only taken to showing
'affection' when they were alone, which Selina did not mind at all. Everyone probably
thought Damian was only being tolerable with her because of the baby!

"Of course he did, I'm his mother and he's my son"

Bruce actually stuttered as he clarified, "He actually called you mom. Do you understand
how...since when has he done that?"

She smirked, leaning her head against his broad chest.

"A few days. We had a lovely bonding moment the day he stole the Batmobile, even let me
touch his hands"

At that her husband almost missed a step on the stairs, looking down at her with eyes so wide
she might've thought he was looking at her as if he'd seen an angel.

Then he recovered, but was unable to hide the small smile on his face, so like Damian's
earlier one as he said, "Is that why you wouldn't let me ground him when he came back home
the next day? You're probably the only person in this world he has shown affection to, so I
guess it was worth letting him off the hook just this once"

Yeah...the ONLY person....

Selina shrugged as she was set down on their large bed delicately. Bruce thanked her a few
times for having been patient with his son all these years, kissed her brow a few more, then
moved to draw up a bath to help her aching limbs.

These Wayne men...so cold on the outside but all warmth and adorableness on the inside.

Once her husband disappeared in the adjacent bathroom, she slowly moved towards the large
balcony window in their room. Pulling back the tick curtains, Selina caught a glimpse of
Damian and Brooklyn walking side by side, Titus happily running circles around them,
Goliath clinging to the Stark's side.

The snow was indeed minimal, but she was glad to see Alfred had made them wear coats to
guard against the cold. The two made their way past the decorative trimmed bushes, past the
rose gardens, towards the little hedge maze Bruce liked to keep for 'training' the kids.

Selina didn't know how or if it was even possible, but she would fight to keep that light in
Damian's eyes. So she whispered to her unborn baby, "Look at that, your brother is growing
up"

At the sound of her voice, the baby kicked excitedly, and Selina was glad to at least have
someone to share this monumental secret with.
Hours later, after a shower had been taken and her feet had been soothed, Alfred announced a
limousine had arrived.

It seemed everyone had dropped what they were doing to get to the front of the house, where
Brooklyn (in her clothes from yesterday which Alfred likely washed and pressed), was
getting ready to leave through the front door.

Bruce had insisted Selina stay upstairs, but she had wanted to see the girl go..like everyone
else it seemed. The kids were 'casually' sitting in the greeting space, asking ridiculous
questions about how much Brooklyn knew Spider-man, if he was a good kid, how long they
had known one another.

Brooklyn Stark ignored the odd taunts which were probably the beginning of an even greater
prank or insult. At least the girl was smart enough not to get baited. With purse over her
shoulder and a plate of warm cookies from Alfred (which the kids seemed immensely jealous
of), the young Stark spared one last look at Bruce, and as if the words pained her, she told
him, "I appreciate the admittance into your home for refuge. Lets hope it never happens
again"

Bruce crossed his arms, looking displeased as he replied, "I will need the documents done by
midnight, I expect no mistakes"

Brooklyn rolled her eyes as if she'd expected the dismissal, then sent a nod towards the
couches full of Waynes and a warm smile Alfred's way. Selina already knew that once the girl
was gone, Alfred would tear into Bruce's ego for the rudeness.

It was Selina, Bruce, and Damian who followed her out where Ms Potts was already waiting
at the bottom of the stairs, driver standing defensively by her side.

As always, the woman looked well put together, and embodiment of power and effortless
beauty.

Unlike her soon to be husband, Ms Potts sent a nod of thanks their way, even as the rest of
the kids piled behind the three to see the Stark leave. Since when had they been so nosy?

Glad a horrific confrontation between Anthony Stark and Bruce was avoided, Selina waved
back at the woman as Brooklyn made her way down the steps with graceful ease. Upon
reaching her mother, Brooklyn smiled wide and hugged the woman, a beautiful reunion
between a mom and her daughter.

The two Starks looked well put together, smiles dazzling, worth every billion they possessed.

What ended up surprising Selina was the last minute glance Brooklyn spared Damian's way,
and though it only lasted less than a second, it seemed like the two teens were speaking a
million words unheard by the rest of them.

The truly shocking part had been the knowing look Pepper Potts had as she too noticed the
subtle glance. Selina and Pepper locked eyes, surprised to see the two had been the only ones
to notice the exchange with a sense of understanding that there was something deeper going
on there.

Could it be....that Ms Potts KNEW something was going on?

The two women went wide eyed, but said nothing to one another, could not given their
physical distance and the driver's encouraging words that they should go back to the
Avenger's compound.

Ms Potts still shouted with a short wave, "Thank you for looking out for my daughter! I guess
we'll see you at the Lex Gala in a few days"

Bruce at least had the good sense to nod in acknowledgment, even if he'd claimed last night
that the visit had been a mistake. The two Starks moved to get into their limousine, but Ms
Potts sent one last look towards Selina, as if in confirmation of their suspicions.

The two nodded at one another, feigning it was due to the thanks spoken. But Selina now
knew without a doubt that Brooklyn's mother knew something was going on with
Damian...and certainly did not seem mad about it, which made Selina respect the woman all
the more.

As soon as the two drove away, Damian was being tricked into going down to the Batcave for
his secret yearly birthday celebration of cake and presents Damian would deny wanting.
Selina could only smile to herself, glad there was at least a few hours of today he truly had
enjoyed...with Brooklyn Stark.

"Happy 17th birthday Damian" was all she could whisper to her son before he was whisked
away by his rowdy siblings. What she had really wished to say was, "I'm so overjoyed and
proud of you. I'm glad you're happy"

Maybe a few birthdays from now, it wouldn't be such a betrayal to say so...at least Selina
hoped so. Then maybe she'd get to see Damian's smile from today out in the open more often.

Natasha Romanoff POV-

"You cut your hair again! Its beautiful" Laura said by way of greeting, opening the farm-
house door wide enough to hug Nat before letting her inside the warm space, away from the
falling snow.

Nat smirked at the observation of the blondish-brown hair that now reached her shoulders.

"You know how it is, old espionage habits. It was about time I changed up my look" she
replied, already hearing the running steps coming their way.

As Nat was tackled by Laura's kids (Lila, Cooper, and little Nathaniel), Clint yelled from the
kitchen, "Our dear Nat probably wanted to match hair color with her new boyfriend. You
know, Steve is still pissed with the UN panel, yet still has time to act like the lovebird of the
Avengers"
Nat considered killing Clint for the teasing, but Laura beat her to it by shouting back with no
ounce of betrayal at the news, "Nat is dating the Captain? About darn time. And at least they
want to match, you would never do that with me, would you?"

Though the kids smiled and cheered for Captain America, Nat was glad to see Laura was not
upset she'd yet to be told about this new development. There had been too much going on to
explain over the phone, and given her criminal status, Nat was not exactly able to visit much.

Finally relaxing back into the flow that was visiting the Bartons, Nat ushered the kids to the
living room after hugging Laura one more time once she requested Natasha try to sneak the
Captain in for a visit next time.

Apparently, sweet Laura wanted to make sure he was good for her.

The truth was, Steven Rogers was probably one of the few things that had gone right in
Natasha's life, even if she likely would never say it out loud. But let Laura figure that out for
herself one of these days, the woman DID have an exceptional skill to read people.

It was a secretive sort of relief that Natasha's family had been growing for some time, with all
the new Stark kids and her new boyfriend, it finally felt like she'd never be alone again. That
ancient assassin fear dwindled with every year, even if threats against the world always
seemed to appear out of nowhere.

But in this hidden house, Natasha could relax. She didn't have to be Natasha the Avenger, or
Natalia the ex-assassin turned spy. She was just Aunty Nat for the next hour or so...and she
was determined to make the best of it.

The only issue is that now Nat owed Tony a favor.

When a large storm had fallen upon the eastern side of the country, everyone was called back
in from their missions. Natasha had been one of the few that would not make it in time, so
Tony suggested she lay low in a safe house somewhere. Despite the ankle bracelet still on
her, the council had allowed it.

Natasha knew Tony was not all jokes and fun, he genuinely cared for people, just had a funny
way of showing it. As soon as he said, 'safe house' on the Quinjet's intercom, the route that
led to Clint's house appeared.

Much her and Clint's shock, Tony had also sent Barton to a last minute mission...which of
course he'd be unable to return for, so now they were both 'taking refuge from the storm' at
his home.

It was a gift, Tony's way of saying, "You deserve a break, spend it with family. I'll cover your
criminal asses"

Seeing Laura happy, her husband at home finally able to play chase around the house with the
kids...maybe it made it worth it to owe Stark a favor or two.
It was after a big and delicious dinner that Clint and Laura continued with their gossip now
that the kids had gone over to the living room to play whatever video game they were into
these days.

Despite their oath to secrecy, Clint found no problem telling his wife about their most recent
little discovery. A mission so secret only four people knew its contents.

Operation Red League.

Honestly, Natasha was not surprised, those two never kept secrets for one another. Something
about marriage vows.

"But now Tony and some of the others think Brooklyn will end up with Spider-man. But did
they see her and the Wayne dancing or sharing food, of course not" Nat's friend said,
sounding exasperated.

Laura had been listening to everything while calmly nursing a cup of tea. Though her
eyebrows has raised in surprise a few times, she'd never outright claimed it to be impossible.
Even with her life away from most society, Laura would know of the Stark-Wayne rivalry.
Nat was just waiting to see if the woman would yell at them for meddling with teen affairs, or
if she would side with the other Avengers.

Turned out, she did neither of those things.

After serving Nat another biscuit (claiming Nat was looking a little pale and needed to eat
more), Laura's face turned mischievous as she shared, "Though I can't really wrap my head
around Bruce Wayne being Batman, I'm glad his son is a hero now. Kids that young shouldn't
have those kinds of responsibilities, but I could tell there was good in him when those two
came for refuge"

Clint set down his coffee cup, confused.

"That's right, they did come here. I assume they just ignored one another right?" he asked.

Natasha's poor biscuit fell to the floor mid-bite when Laura said with every ounce of
smugness the kind woman could muster, "Of course not. They did chores together, played
with the kids, and I even had them share a room for the night"

...

"Wait...you had two teens share a room? But the other guest room was already finished by
then, they didn't HAVE to share one" Clint pointed out, shooting Nat a wide eyed glance
cross the table.

Laura smiled, the picture of fake innocence as she explained, "They looked spooked after
what happened to them. I noticed that even this far from danger, they remained together, only
trusted each other. Thought it might be comforting for them to sleep in one room"

"They could've killed each other" Nat pointed out, because she still wasn't sure just when
exactly those two teens had shed their hatred. They could've destroyed this house with their
wrath if an argument had broken out.

Not to mention, Natasha was a little protective of Brooklyn, and the thought of her sleeping
in the same bed as a boy made her surprisingly worried.

Laura took a sip of her tea, smiling absentmindedly as she recounted, "I did hear a scream
during the night, but when I walked up to the door, I just heard them talking in hushed
whispers about nightmares. Poor kids"

"You spied on them?" Nat said, almost impressed. Laura had a husband and a best friend that
were trained spies after all, it was only right she'd learned a thing or two.

Laura quickly shook her head, looking anywhere but at them in the dinning room as if she'd
committed a crime and was trying to hide it.

"I was concerned something happened, but from what I heard, which wasn't much by the
way, the two were calm. When I woke up in the morning to check on them they were all
snuggled up in bed together, completely asleep and for Clint's information, fully clothed"

Natasha wanted to say something that would convey the enormity of her shock. Brooklyn had
slept by herself most of her life, and as a person who also grew in the Red Room, Nat knew
how difficult it was to trust sharing such a space like that with someone.

In the Red Room, the risk of murder in your sleep was high, it would take someone you
trusted with your life (the highest currency for an assassin) to share a room with them. But
sharing a bed...nevozmozhno. Impossible.

Even Nat, having spent many years away from the Red Room, was still not able to let Steve
crash in her room after a long mission. Trust was a tricky thing with assassins, a monster with
many layers guarded by experience and insecurities.

For Nat and Yelena, it was just the way of things. But for Brooklyn, who had been the center
of Ivan's focus, Nat couldn't even imagine the depths of distrust the girl could have. Natasha
had deemed it close to miracle that Rosa had settled with her family, the Avengers, and that
team of heroes she's with already.

Perhaps the contributing factor that changed all expectations was that boy, the Wayne. What
he had done to get Brook to trust him, it had to have been big for sure. How Brooklyn had
managed to get past all that training and conditioning of her instincts was beyond Nat's
current understanding.

Clint was already pacing the ranch-style dinning room, and as if he were reassessing a case
file when he asked his wife, "So you're saying even back then they got along? A little over a
month after she became a Stark"

Laura chuckled.

"I guess" she said, turning to Nat with an amused smile as she added, "Did they not get along
before? I imagined if Brook trusted Damian enough to bring him here, that was enough"
Clint and Nat shared a look of bewilderment, knowing Steve and Pepper would need to be
told this once the storm calmed down. Because that could mean that the day Pepper had seen
Damian in her daughter's home...the two teens could've very well shared a room too.

Damian Wayne could be the reason why Brooklyn's nightmares had diminished, he could be
closer to her than they originally thought.

The conversation was cut short when the kids walked in, Nathaniel immediately climbing
into Nat's lap. As the Avenger wiped the chocolate from his lips with a napkin, Clint asked
his kids how the Stark and Wayne had been during their stay months ago.

Cooper and Lila immediately beamed, sharing stories of how mazing it was to have
celebrities in their home. Little Nathaniel was still learning words everyday, but made up for
it by being very understanding.

Upon hearing Brooklyn and Damian's names, the little boy pointed to the fridge with a cluster
of drawings. Upon seeing Nat's focus turn to the distant fridge, Cooper added, "Damian
taught us how to mix paints too! He helped us with our drawings before he had to leave"

Clint went over to analyze the drawings as if they would have the answers they wanted.

Perhaps Brooklyn was letting go of her assassin instincts, but it appeared her secret keeping
was as strong as ever.

That night, Nat was given the guest room that Brook and Damian slept it, and after a quick
look around the room, she realized the bed was large enough that the two could've slept apart.
The cuddling could've been avoided for sure.

It was with that in mind that she went to bed with a smile, sending a quick text to Steve that
all was fine, that he need not worry for her. Sure, there were still weapons out on the streets,
the Joker and Scarecrow were nowhere to be found...but at least Nat could rest knowing that
in some way or another, her sestra was perhaps not only guarding secrets in fear but perhaps
because said secret brought her enough joy worth protecting.

Though it may have been impossible decades ago, Natasha's respect for the al' Ghul only
grew each day. Not just respect, but gratitude.

********

What a chapter! It appears some secrets are not so secret anymore, huh?

Selina now KNOWS whats going on, but doesn't know how it came about. Selina and Pepper
know the other suspects, but Selina things they are the only ones.

Pepper, Nat, Steve, Clint, and Laura know the developments, but not that they are dating yet.

The Bat kids think they have crushes, thinking they are the only ones that noticed. They are
however wrong in thinking Brook is dating Spider-man.
Then there are the Justice League members (Superman, Supergirl, and Wonder Woman) who
think something could be going on, but don't know much more than that.

Alfred suspects but will keep his mouth shut, secretly hoping for the impossible.

Talia thinks they are more than allies, but considers Brooklyn worthy of her son's hand in
what she considers the greatest binding of contracts between two people...marriage.

Jean Grey and Xavier, the mutants, know it all (possibly the only ones that do know
EVERYTHING) but they will keep their mouths and mind shut to those facts.

The Dynasty only know the secret that is their friendship but not much more than that.

But the only ones Brook and Damian think know of their relationship are Yelena and Jon.

What a fun mess right? Wonder what consequences and fun scenarios this will enact in the
future? Wonder who else might be brought up into these circles of confusion soon...
 Thomas...Duke Thomas
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Brooklyn POV-

Brook was getting the hang of her new internship, or at least enough to survive the day.

She knew to keep her head held high, to gracefully stride down every hallway without
looking at those around her. She'd learned the hard way that Gotham citizens coveted their
smiles and kindness, so she'd finally forgone any attempts to be civil with anyone.

It made walks from her little room towards the CEO office all the quicker at least.

Today, the teen was already dreading the long time she'd have to spend there. Mr. Wayne had
ordered Brooklyn with a new challenging task of presenting the recent developments of all
branches of the company to him...which she suspected was payback for what had occurred at
his home during the storm last week.

Never mind that her distasteful comments towards Damian had been nothing but an act, but
Brook would accept the punishment that came with saying them if it meant their secret
remained their own for now.

As for what she'd said to Bruce himself, that she had no regrets of whatsoever.

Aside from all that work, she also had a bone to pick with that asshole. Brook got an email
from the man last night about how there would soon be a company event in which, as his
intern, Brooklyn was ordered to go as his assistant. Not a Stark.

Never mind that the event would be at Lex's company in a few weeks, or that the Lex Gala
was only days away and those were a rare chances to investigate the work place of Cobalus.
No, Bruce wanted her to go to that later event with him as a humiliating tactic, one dad had
fired back at by ordering Damian to go with him.

Neither teen was happy, and they'd fight tooth and nail to change it. They already had to
worry about Lex being a mass murderer in the works! They'd be too busy then to care about
simple family quibbles or business deals.

As she stood on the private elevator for Bruce's office, Brook set down her folders on the
railing, taking some time to stare at her tired reflection on the elevator doors. Her pencil skirt
was a menace, her elegant white button-up wasn't much better, but at least neither had
become wrinkled over the course of the afternoon.

Gotham, especially the Wayne building, was a place where professional attire was a must. It
was a little odd considering Stark Industries was not exactly a stickler for fancy attire
considering it was dad who was often seen around it in lazy t-shirts.
Here, attire was a weapon. The more elegant and unbothered you looked, the more respect
and power one seemed to hold. Maybe Gotham just admired those that could push
themselves above the cloud of destruction this city seemed to be.

Either way, Brooklyn was determined not to do anything Bruce Wayne could call her out on.
So she squared her shoulders, looked above the elevator doors to see she was almost at the
room of all her miseries.

At least she'd have a few hours later to cool down, to regain whatever patience kept her from
fighting the CEO. She was prepared, confident in her work, ready to take on whatever Bruce
Wayne could throw her way.

Or at least she'd thought so.

As soon as the metal doors opened, the usually empty CEO office was occupied by a young
man who looked very much out of place. Upon first glance, Brook was surprised to see
someone would dare wear mud-stained sneakers, a faded gray jacket, and worn jeans in this
building. The fact that he was sitting on Bruce's pristine desk was the second round of alarms
that went off in her head.

Upon hearing the sound of the elevator doors, the boy turned around to reveal someone who
was likely only a few years older than her. He had a bright smile, dark skin, and gentle brown
eyes.

Though he seemed to have quite a bit of muscle on him, his position sitting criss-crossed atop
documents with billions of dollars in transactions suddenly made the usual threat alarms in
her head dim. That and the adorably messy brown hair atop his head.

Maybe security had finally fucked up.

Stepping out of the elevator, Brooklyn saw the exact moment when the boy took in her
appearance, smiling wider as he shouted, "No way! You're her! You're Brooklyn Stark!
Oh...this is the best day of my life! You're here in front of me and...oh wow!"

Great.

Brooklyn set down her files nearby, grabbing the little pager on her waist to call security. Of
course one of her crazy fans would sneak into the scariest building in Gotham just to see her.
As ridiculous and stupid as it sounded, she'd watched enough TV with Tanya to see the
lengths of bullshit celebrities had to live through.

It was about time it bit her in the ass.

Seeing her unamused expression as she got ready to call security, the guy stood from the
table, waving his hands frantically as he yelled, "Oh no, don't do that! I was invited in. I'm
here to see Bruce Wayne"

Brooklyn paused her summons and asked, "Name?"

The guy smiled nervously, stretching out a hand then retracting it as if he did not know how
exactly to greet her.

"I'm Thomas...I mean, my name is Duke Thomas" he stuttered.

Brook had not seen anything with a man named Duke Thomas in the itinerary, so she asked,
"Where is your guest badge? Why aren't you waiting in the lobby? Mr. Wayne doesn't like
having people waiting for him in his office"

Before the guy could come up with a response, which he was clearly struggling for, the doors
to their right opened to reveal Bruce. He took one look at the boy in the office, and Brook's
fingers on her pager ready to call security and sighed.

"Duke, you're here early"

Brook relaxed, but her curiosity replaced whatever instincts had been ready to fight this
intruder, wondering why on Earth Bruce would have a visitor.

She had observed that no one ever visited him unless they had business with him or it was
absolutely unavoidable. This so called Duke Thomas looked relieved to see Bruce, which
was definitely a first seeing as people usually cowered before the man.

"Hey man! Sorry about that, I don't really have a watch" Duke said with a wave, pointing a
not so subtle thumb Brook's way as he whispered, "I can't believe you didn't tell me Brooklyn
Stark was here. This is the best day of my life by far!"

Bruce frowned at the words, but there was a gentleness in the action, so out of place with the
way the man usually was.

Upon noticing her confusion, Bruce sat down on his desk and said, "If you must know Miss
Stark, this boy is a member of my family. He's very much allowed in this office whenever he
wishes to come"

Brooklyn almost laughed, because how stupid did he think she was?

"Bullshit, I know all your family Mr. Wayne. Are you so determined to forget my visit to
your home on Friday to think I can be fooled into believing that?" she replied.

She watched as Bruce gathered a folder from a locked drawer, handing it over to her as he
called the boy to take the seat next to Brook on the other side of the large desk.

The folder itself was thick, filled with papers, but was labeled rather simply.

Adoption Papers.

It took a while to understand what this meant, to remember the massive amounts of
documents identical to these that Brook and her siblings had signed upon becoming members
of the Stark family.
At her silence, Bruce explained, "This is a new member of my family. He needs to sign a few
things in that folder, then I want you to go deliver these papers downstairs. Tell the legal team
I want these processed by tonight, we can tell the press tomorrow morning but until then I
want this under-wraps for his safety"

Brooklyn held onto the folder with mild confusion...then she recalled just how many kids
Bruce had adopted over the years, enough to fill Damian's home with chaos and company.

Just how many of these folders did Bruce Wayne deemed necessary to have in his desk?

But Damian had not mentioned anything this weekend about gaining a new brother,
something he would've definitely brought up. But he'd never even mentioned knowing a guy
named Duke Thomas.

Beside her, Duke whispered, "Its such an honor to meet you! Wow!"

Bruce frowned at the words and said, "Don't be honored, we'll need to have a talk later about
the Starks. But for now, if you're ready, those papers are yours to sign. No pressure"

Duke gently took the folder from Brooklyn's frozen hands. He inspected them with a giddy
sort of disbelief. Brook realized she was familiar with the feeling, that even though he was a
stranger... she was glad someone else in the world had found a family to belong to.

As Duke inspected and signed the papers before him, Brooklyn moved to stand away from
the table, far enough that Duke would not hear as she whispered to the silently approaching
Bruce, "Not that I very much care about any of this, but do your children know about this?"

Bruce looked down at her with a glare that didn't quite meet his eyes, meaning that no, he
hadn't told his kids yet.

"Had you not stayed at my home on Friday, I would've taken that time to tell them"

Brooklyn couldn't help but chuckle faintly.

"Sure, blame me" she whispered back, then reluctantly added, "Why are you adopting a new
kid when your wife is about to have one. What did this kid do to you to gain such approval?"

Brook was convinced he would not answer, that Bruce would deem her unworthy of knowing
family matters. The only reason she'd asked was to hopefully give Damian a detailed warning
ahead of time.

The Stark was more than a little surprised when Mr. Wayne motioned for her to join him at
the far end of the room to 'gather documents from his bookcases'.

Once far enough away from the young man still signing his previous life away, Bruce
annoyedly explained, "Duke was placed into the foster system a few weeks ago"

"He looks old enough to be an adult. The foster care system evicts kids once they turn 18"
she said, matter of fact. When Bruce raised a curious brow, Brooklyn reluctantly added,
"Believe it or not, I wasn't always a Stark, I know that system well enough"
Bruce didn't say anything for a while, only crossed his arms and looked towards the giant
books before him.

"He barely turned 18, but was placed in the system due to the circumstance of his parent's
deaths" Bruce mentioned, "He's been desperate to find his parent's murderers, thinks the
police aren't doing enough in that department. Before that, he was an excellent student, but
has a heavy police file because of all of the fights he gets into in his quest for vengeance.
They thought being around other orphans might help"

Brooklyn looked at the guy behind them, signing the papers with tears in his eyes but she
couldn't tell if they were happy tears, or those shed for his lost parents.

"How did you find him?" she dared ask, wondering if Bruce had met the bubbly guy first, or
the one who wasn't afraid to fight to avenge his parents.

"Duke left the orphanage last week, ran from it to better pursue his quest. He lived with a
group of homeless people who created a small city underground. Duke told me he overheard
some of them plan to use alien bombs in different landmarks of Gotham as a distraction,
starting with the Hall of Records. Surely that was another plan to distract us" He said, and
Brook wasn't sure if the 'us' in that meant his family, or heroes as a whole.

Looking a little more distressed than usual, Bruce added, "Just after hearing that, Duke ran to
the police station even if it meant he'd be sent back to the orphanage, but the Joker's guys
caught up to him. He put up a decent fight. Luckily...Batman...had been tracking the
underground movements of the Joker and got there in time to save him"

Brooklyn could see it now, a bulkier part of Duke's sleeve where a bandage must be, a small
cut by his temple that had proper stitches. Even his ankle had a small brace hidden under his
jeans.

Expensive medical treatment, which was no doubt payed by Bruce.

"So you adopted him? Just like that?"

"No" Bruce said, "I didn't know who he was, thought it was just a kid playing hero. Then
when he was taken by the police, I found out about his life and why he was fighting that day.
When Bruce Wayne came to visit him, Duke was distraught. He vowed that no one would
loose their families if he could do something about it. So I offered him a position with
Batman...and a new home with people that could perhaps understand him, those who lost
family too"

Brooklyn only admired Bruce's kindness for a second, then was reminded of just who she
was talking to and the anger towards the man came back just as quick as it had left.

"So you adopted yet another kid? It's like you have no control" she whispered, gathering her
papers to go leave.

Silently, she could only hope that addition to the Wayne family would be a good one, that this
happy and energetic guy would get along with Dami.
Damian had bee'd been doing such great progress when it came to letting others in. He and
Selina Wayne got along much better than before, and on occasion, she'd catch him referring
to the others as his siblings and nothing less.

Seemingly not happy with her sudden choice of departure, Bruce said defensively, "I am
giving Duke a home, and a way to deal with the passing of his family the right way"

Brooklyn never thought she'd see the day the Batman would try and play saint. She knew he
was anything but so.

"Because we all know thats what you do right?" she whispered back harshly, "Is that what
you did when my dad lost his family and was willing to make a friend out of you, and you
pushed him away? Have you considered maybe you're not as kind as you think yourself to
be?"

Bruce scoffed at her words, pointing at the oblivious guy at the desk as he said, "You're one
to talk, Firestar. Want to know how Duke's parents died? They were taken hostage by the
Joker's people, both blew up in an abandoned movie theatre. Sound familiar?"

Brooklyn staggered back a few steps, not caring very much that one of her ankles had twisted
a little weirdly as she recalled the faces of those hostages. She shouldn't have, but her eyes
turned back to Duke, noting his features and trying to pin them to those of the people she'd
seen that day...to the names she thought of often.

Elaine and Dough Thomas. They had been the couple guarding the little boy, Dough had been
the man who tried to carry said boy to safety.

Brooklyn had to lean on the bookshelves behind her as she realized Duke was an orphan
because she'd failed to save his parents. In some way or another, this was her fault.

Duke had gawked at the presence of Brooklyn Stark, not knowing she was there when his
parents met their end.

How misplaced his awe was...

Despite the cold of the vibranium bracelets hidden beneath her blazer, Brook could still feel
that familiar warmth of her flames try to rise up to the surface, fueled by her panic. But she
would not fall apart here, not in front of Bruce especially.

So she gathered her documents once more, threw them into Bruce's hands, then whispered as
angrily as she could, "Next time you see the fucking Joker, kill him. Think long and hard
about who truly is to blame for this shit. Me, or your instance in letting dangerous criminals
live"

Without another word, Brooklyn gracefully moved towards the main desk, where Duke was
smiling at the finished folder. He looked up at her with a smile, excitedly handing over the
folder that would make him a Wayne by name.
An apology was at the tip of her tongue, she wanted to apologize for not saving his family,
for indirectly driving him towards this quest for vengeance. But all she ended up doing was
taking the folder, saying it would be delivered to legal right away.

Duke thanked her a million times, then asked for a photo with her (which given what she'd
done to him, she allowed). Her smile had been forced, but looked genuine enough that Duke
seemed very pleased with it.

With that, she didn't even bother saying she'd come back to give her presentation report,
Bruce the Saint could read the fucking files on his own. She just rushed to the elevator, and
once the doors closed, she took a few steading breaths to regain control.

Despite her shaking fingers, Brook sent Damian a long text to explain what she'd learned,
knowing he might need the time away from home to process the addition of someone else to
his family.

Yelena's unread texts were funny enough to keep Brook in decent spirits after that. She was
glad her sestra was having a fun time at her own internship, had truly blossomed under the
motivation to help people. It helped that Aunt May had turned into something like a mentor
for her.

At least Yelena had someone who didn't think of her as a monster all the time.

Thankfully, her own pile of work kept Brook's mind busy and alone in her little office. Bruce
didn't bother summoning her for anything, and she was able to leave home hours later
without having to see the idiot.

Even so, there was one Wayne she was still worried for while Happy drover her home.

She couldn't help but wonder how Damian was doing, if he was already back home from his
own internship meeting his new brother. She wondered if Peter had been there during their
internship to help Damian not deal with the new information alone.

Most of all, she wondered how he'd take it all...

Damian POV-

As soon as Damian parked his convertible in the garage, he didn't make a move to get out of
the vehicle right away.

He knew better than to be surprised by father bringing another stray back home, but that did
not mean Damian trusted this so called Duke Thomas right away.

Brooklyn had mentioned he seemed alright, but her misplaced guilt could've obscured her
trust.

Hands on the steering-wheel, Damian had to remind himself once more that there was no way
father had adopted another kid to replace him. He had to convince himself that this new
addition was not brought on because father found Damian inadequate in any way.
This was just another orphan with too much of a drive for vengeance, someone father saw
himself in and couldn't help but take in.

Damian was used to father coming home with new kids by now. He recalled the day
Stephanie joined the family, when a 'dead' Jason had been brought back home, even when a
silent Cassandra had reunited with Damian all those years ago.

He recalled when a saddened Barbara was brought home for the first time, the last kid to be
adopted before this Duke Thomas came along.

This was just another day like that. Not the first and certainly not the last.

Maybe it was the stress of his internship getting to him, the exhaustion of being given
mountains of useless work all while getting glared at by his 'co-workers'. Stark Industries was
testing Damian in ways that he'd not been ready for, and it didn't help that Anthony Stark was
enjoying it.

In fact, the only one that ever spoke to him with respect was Peter Parker. The two would sit
at the same table during the food break, and Peter would rant about whatever movie he found
the most relevant to their day or would whisper about their secret missions to pass the time.

It was annoying, but Damian was shocked at times that the company was not entirely
unwelcome anymore.

Maybe he too would grow used to having Thomas around as well, and for now, Damian
would keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior until he was sure the newcomer could be
trusted.

Getting out of the car with backpack in hand, Damian passed by and patted Roscoe's hood
fondly before reluctantly making his way towards the loud conversations in the living room.
Father would likely not suspect Brooklyn had warned him ahead of time, so Damian had to at
least pretend to be caught of guard.

As soon as he entered, his blazer, tie, and vest off, Damian was was met with the sight of his
family gathered around the large couch in the main living room...in its middle, an unfamiliar
face.

Duke Thomas looked happy, not overwhelmed in the least by the cluster of new siblings
crowded to his sides. Not scared by the array of usual weapons on the coffee table, or the
vigilante costumes half his siblings were still wearing (even if their masks were off).

He still looked around the space in awe, his smile genuine, no personal weapons on sight.

Damian didn't bother making his presence known, not when father had seen him.

"Damian" father said sternly, in that way that meant 'behave' before explaining, "This is Duke
Thomas. He'll be living with us from now on"

Father's stern words caught the attention of everyone, including the newcomer. Damian
debated just heading upstairs, he had much work to do, scheming to plot with his beloved and
the others.

Normally, Damian would just shrug this moment off as nothing worth his time for sure...but
when Duke Thomas' eyes met his own, Damian saw no malice, no fear, only wonder.

"You must be Damian! The youngest! I've seen you on TV as Damian of course, but after
what Bruce told me...wow...its so great to meet Robin the hero of Queens!" the newcomer
said, rushing to stand from the couch, clearly intending to embrace Damian.

At the last minute, the teen shifted slightly enough to avoid said embrace, almost sending
Thomas crashing into one of the knight armor suits along the walls.

Making sure to keep his emotions hidden, arms behind his back clutching his discarded
clothes and backpack, Damian replied , "I do not like to be touched, Thomas. You'd do well
to remember that"

Normally, he would've probably added a nasty comment to make sure this new charity case
would stay well away (which never seemed to work). Only now, Damian did not just see a
stranger in the guy's brown eyes.

He saw Yelena and Harley.

Brooklyn's siblings who'd had nothing, people his beloved had took a chance on and greeted
with open arms into her own family. It was hard to imagine what life would be like without
Harley's innocent little visits to their lunch table at school, what the Dynasty would be like
without Yelena Stark, and what kind of dimmed happiness Jon would live with were she not
around.

Strangers were something to be weary of, but father had yet to bring someone truly deranged
into this home, even if Jason was a close call.

Even after side-stepping him, Duke Thomas did not look annoyed or angry. He only seemed
curious, amazed even.

"Sorry! I think someone mentioned that before" Thomas confessed, "I've always wanted a
younger brother though. I guess I got a little excited"

Damian looked to that innocence, noticing this boy was different from those adopted before
him. Unlike Damian's siblings, Thomas' grieved his family differently. Not with anger, but a
drive to make life better. He still had that spark of hope years patrolling Gotham tended to
diminish.

Normally, Damian would've thought him a fool, weak, and useless. Now...he wasn't exactly
sure what to think.

Damian was still weary, just as he was of all new things. But perhaps Brooklyn's earlier text
messages had been right, that this stranger deserved the chance that his teammate Yelena got.
That it was a miracle Thomas was willing to be happy after the loss of all he was and cared
for.
His beloved had shared what she'd learned of Thomas' past, trusting Damian to know she felt
guilt from how it all turned out. He'd wanted to assure her the fault was not hers in the least,
but he knew that would not make it better.

What could possibly make her better was knowing that despite his loss, Thomas was well
cared for, in a place he could call home once again. That like Yelena and Harley Stark, things
had perhaps turned out for the better.

Just like the fetu-...like the baby growing in umi's belly, this was another sibling gained. Just
like Brooklyn, Damian was more driven that ever to protect family, and for better or worse,
this stranger was now part of it.

So when Thomas called him a 'younger brother', Damian did not bother correcting him. He
knew his siblings were watching, ready to yell at him if he said something out of line, ready
to bolt up from their seats in case he attacked.

Instead of doing either of those things, Damian did himself and Thomas a favor and simply
said, "Bit of advice Thomas, my dog Titus doesn't take kindly to strangers so stay out of his
way. I assume you will take the spare room next to the stairs, my bedroom is the last one at
the end of the hall. Keep out from there and my art room...don't feed Batcow or my cat Alfred
and we shouldn't have any issues"

Thomas was wonderstruck, listening to Damian's words as if they were the law. He nodded
dutifully, shooting Damian a thumbs up.

"Got it!" Thomas said, looking as if he had planned to embrace Damian but now thought
better of it, then added, "By the way, I know I missed your birthday this weekend, maybe we
can get to know one another over some card games or something. Its a hobby of mine"

Damian considered the invitation, almost rejected it...

Moving towards the grand staircase, Damian only spared Thomas one last look before
replying, "I assume father has offered you a place amongst our ranks if you know of my
secret identity? In which case you will need training so you don't slow us down. I'll meet you
Saturday in the Batcave at sunrise, then I'll make sure you're trained enough to not get killed
as soon as you step out of this manor"

Aside from Thomas' (or The Signal as he claimed to be his vigilante name) enthusiastic
acceptance, the room was silent. Damian could almost guess his family was watching him
with astounded looks, the teen was certainly surprised by his own generosity as well.

But he was tired, had much work to do before Lex's upcoming gala. So he left towards his
room, let the others think what they wanted of his behavior.

Damian had enough enemies as it was right now, he did not need to add Thomas as one of
them.

By dinner time, it was only expected that his siblings be asking if he felt well. Only Alfred,
umi, and Dick held something akin to pride in their eyes, especially when Damian bothered
 to hand over a plate of greens to Thomas when asked.

He ignored father's curious and suspicious glares, outright dismissed Jason's teasing and his
sisters' confused stares. Damian was confident now in his belief that perhaps more was not
necessarily bad.

Plus, he'd do Thomas another favor. Damian would generously provide something akin to a
welcoming gift of sorts and stop Cobalus, the Joker, and mother if need be. Even if he wasn't
doing it for Thomas specifically, his dead family would be avenged....whatever it takes.

Chapter End Notes

I have been dying to introduce Duke for some time, actually debated doing so in the first
book. But then I got a good image of what role I wanted him to play and realized it
would be best he be introduced in the second book! Look forward to seeing more of this
new Wayne in the future!

As always, thank you for reading. I love all your comments, read them in my spare time.
They bring me so much joy!
 Lex Luthor's Gala

Brooklyn POV-

A robbery, car chase, and stopped suicide attempt later, Brooklyn returned to her Spanish
class with Jon. No one had bat an eyelash when she and Jon both asked to go to the restroom
fifteen minutes ago, and the only one that showed any level of concern at their overdue return
together was Peter.

A simple thumbs up told her Spanish partner that all was well, the city was safe, and all
crimes had been stopped.

Despite her exhaustion, Brooklyn couldn't help but smile at yet another successful mission
without casualties or injuries...well, she had a couple bruises, which didn't hurt much but
would be rather annoying to conceal for tonight.

Only Lex Luthor would be demented enough to host a gala during the week, and it only made
Brook all the more sure that the guy had to be the villain their were looking for.

Brooklyn and the team had spent the past week slaving over a plan for that night, and
considering only four of them were invited to attend, the team would be cut short.

Harry's recent intel had been good, exceptional for a first time spy. So far, he had mapped out
the entire building with great detail, including guard rotations. Lex was none the wiser about
it.

Once the school bell rang, Brook and the boys practically burst out of their seats, gathering
their things before rushing out the school towards Roscoe and Harry's convertible.

Everyone else was either there, or rushing as quickly as them.

None of them bothered to say much besides a couple greetings. Now that the school was used
to seeing them depart together (something that was deemed non-suspicious thanks to the
popularity of Jon's and Yelena's relationship), such a sight could be dismissed.

With Damian and Harry behind the wheel of their vehicles, they took the long way towards
the Briar Rose Cafe.

No one dared to say anything about tonight's plan until they were in the safety of their little
hidden room behind the unsuspecting bookcase. It was once inside the hidden room they'd
made their own that everyone dared to show their exhaustion and nervousness, but they got to
work regardless.

Standing beside her, Damian looked to everyone gathered around the table, most of which
would have to leave for their internships or patrols soon enough.
"Today's charity event is just another glorified gala. It will be hosted in Manhattan's LexCorp
building, which we now know the full layout of" he said, brining up the hologram of Lex's
building before them.

Harry smirked at the sigh, falling atop his chair, hands playing with his torn rock t-shirt as he
said, "You're welcome people! Lex didn't even suspect a thing!"

Tanya threw one of her blue and yellow pompoms at his face before saying, "That's because
he thinks you're too pretty to be useful"

"Truer words have never been said before" Harry replied, saluting with his coffee until MJ
silently snatched it from his hand and took a big gulp of it, claiming she needed it more than
he did.

Brooklyn cut Harry's complaints off as she added, "This is the best chance we have to
investigate our prime suspect as thoroughly as we can. Next time we'll be able to be that close
to him without seeming suspicions would be the CEO gathering, but exploring then will
be...difficult"

Impossible was more like it. All because Brook wouldn't be able to go as an heiress, but
would be nothing more than Bruce's assistant, forced to stay by his side.

Seeming to remember the own role he'd have to play that day, Damian frowned as well.

"Brooklyn, Yelena, Harry, and I are the only ones invited. Which means the rest of you will
be invisible backup, with Ned on the monitors guiding our moves, Tanya keeping an eye on
the police alarms in case we trigger anything, while Peter takes care of patrols with MJ as
tech support. Jon, you know what you have to do. Everyone got it?" Damian said, to which
they nodded.

They knew their roles, the risks too.

Getting caught would not only serve as a warning to Cobalus, but could let Lex know just
who he was fighting against. It could put their families in danger, speed up whatever hidden
plans were in motion...to much could go wrong if they were caught.

On Brook's right side, Yelena was almost drowned in Jon's letterman jacket. Her sestra
beheld the building layout with scrutiny as she said, "Its a good thing we have the distraction
of it being my first big public appearance, same with Damian's new brother. Lex will be
interested in the new additions to high society"

Brooklyn knew her sister was nervous, even if she'd never admit it. But the whole family was
going, Yelena wouldn't be thrown to the wolves, much less alone with Lex's undivided
attention.

If this was going to work...working as a team was their greatest advantage.

Hours later, standing before the three story LexCorp building with a glass domed roof,
Brooklyn mades sure she stood between both her siblings, holding their hands in support as
they stood behind their parents.

Like in her first gala, a red carpet had been placed from the drop off area towards the
entrance, camera men and interviewers crowded at its edges.

As one, the Starks made their way along the carpet, smiling at the bright flashes around them
while Brooklyn whispered reassurances to Lena in the assassin language. Reassurances that
the noises and light were not weapons, that she need not fear them.

Both Brook and Yelena had gotten ready together, purposefully matched their dresses with
mom's the way Harley wore a similar suit to dad's. Lex had specified in his invitation that
though this was a large event, he preferred casual and fun get-togethers. So mom had
suggested simple (yet expensive) sheath dresses of similar shades of deepest blue for them,
meanwhile, dad and Harley shared matching red ties.

To their parents and brother, this was just Yelena's first social event, the first time where her
new last name would be put on the spotlight. To the two assassins, this was their chance at
finding proof Lex was a mastermind.

To them this night was so much more, this was a mission.

It would not be easy, not when one considered all eyes would be on them. But their mission
was not without its hidden plans.

As soon as they managed to escape the mess that was those gathered outdoors, Brook beheld
the large space before them with surprise and relief.

Lex had not been kidding when he stated he preferred casual gatherings, this place looked
much different than other galas she'd been to. Though everyone still dressed in simple finery,
the giant space was decorated colorfully, the air was playful, and the extremely loud music
strayed from the classics, instead a DJ played mashups of common modern tunes.

The lights were dimmed, replaced by colorful and moving beams of lights.

It was like a club in here, and most of the old did not seem to appreciate it. Brooklyn on the
other hand was actually glad for it. With the masses on the dance floor, the dimness of the
large room, it would make it all the easier when they eventually had to sneak out.

Dad seemed to appreciate the lack of elegant dances and restrained sophisticated vocabulary,
even if mom beheld all before them with slight annoyance.

"This reminds me of a college party!" dad said, then feigned getting all serious as he turned
back to tell his kids, "I expect no drinking alcohol from any of you, even when you girls
claim to handle it. Got it?"

Mom laughed when all three of them finally let go of their hands, nodding, with Harley
looking horrified at the warning.

Brook was almost glad there wasn't someone to elaborately announce their arrival, but their
presence alone was enough to immediately draw eyes towards them.
The first to spot their entrance were none other than the Waynes, who seemed to have arrived
not long ago since they were all still standing together not too far from the arched entrance.

Bruce Wayne was looking towards them with distaste, his pregnant wife attached to his arm
beside him. They looked elegant as usual, keeping to their preferred color of black despite the
liveliness of this event.

Damian stood beside his brothers, where Dick was waving their way enthusiastically, Tim
was on his phone, Jason smirking, and the talk of the town Duke was stuffing his mouth with
food.

At the sight of the Starks, the crowds parted and greeted them fondly, but Brooklyn kept her
eyes on Damian, who silently nodded that preparations were in place.

Just as dad suggested they go over to the Wayne's to pick a fight, the group was intercepted
by someone shouting "Brook! Lena! You're finally here, locas!"

Brook and Yelena tried and failed to hide their smiles, especially as a running Harry crashed
onto them with a big hug.

Unlike the Waynes, Harry actually fit in with this environment quite well. He was wearing a
collared silk shirt and shorts with beautiful and intricate patterns, almost like something
Bruno Mars (one of Lena's favorite singers) would wear.

Locked in his embrace Brooklyn chuckled when Yelena mumbled, "We told you already,
locas is not a Russian word, its Spanish"

Harry jumped away from the embrace, hand going straight to his heart as he pouted back,
"Never mind that! I'm glad you're here, Mrs. Glenn tried to ask me to dance for the eight time
already and I almost tripped on her fallen dentures once. I need my friends to protect me!"

Though Brook knew this was a casual excuse to get them away from their family, she was
sure his story was genuine. Most of the older women here had known Harry since he was
young, and being the charming boy he was, of course they fought for his attention.

Shooting a pleading look to dad, he let the two girls go with a nod and warning not to drink
anything they weren't supposed to. Harley hugged them goodbye, content to stay by mom's
side all night if possible, eyeing the food along the walls with great interest.

With permission out of the way, Harry took both their hands and ushered them away,
pretending to just notice Damian along the way before going to the dance floor.

"Wayne? Is that you? Look at you in that tight fitting suit, bet you've been getting asked to
dance almost as much as I have" Harry said, chuckling as he moved them forward to where
Damian was already stepping away from his family.

"Osborn...Starks. The displeasure to see you all here is all mine" Damian greeted annoyedly,
making sure his dad could see him glaring at Brook and Yelena before Harry countered,
"Wait, don't we have that science project due soon!? You should come with me so we can
plan and get it over with, this party is boring anyways"

Damian made a show of looking extremely annoyed, of turning back to his family with the
intention of not spending another minute around his enemies. Just as they had planned. It was
at the last second that Damian turned back and with a tired sigh said, "On second thought, we
might as well get it over with. I'm sick of being asked to dance anyways"

They all planned a pretty speech to prevent a clearly displeased Bruce from interfering , but
all their planned effort was saved when Selina Wayne suggested, "Go along with them
Damian, you should spend time with others your age no matter how unsavory you find them.
It will do you good to stop fighting with your poor brothers for a few minutes"

Bruce eyed his wife with disbelief, but one glare from her and Bruce had stopped his
approach. Damian's siblings did not object, looking much too happy to see Damian go (save
for Duke).

Damian nodded at his mother's request.

Just like that, the four members of the Dynasty made their way through the crowds until they
made it to a somewhat secluded table far enough from the dance floor to not be heard or seen.

They'd have to rejoin society soon, figure out a way to keep busy to not seem suspicious. But
for now, they could take a moment to gather their wits even if they had to keep their hatred
acts on in case Lex had cameras around...

It was with causal hand gestures that they exchanged messages assuring one another that the
plan was well in motion. The earpieces they had would turn on in about twenty minutes, in
which Ned's time to shine as 'the guy in the chair' would arrive for the next stage of their
plan.

For now, Harry suggested they hit the dance floor.

"I love Brittney songs and Love Shack! Let's go dance!" Harry whined, dragging Brook and
Yelena to their feet from their chairs, "You wanted to look normal, let's go!"

Brooklyn expected Damian to refuse, stay behind at the table until their time to act came, but
his eyes were honed on the hand she and Harry had locked together. So he joined them at a
distance, walking along the gawking masses of people swaying to the boisterous beat.

It was once they'd found a nook to dance at that Yelena smirked, pausing Harry's walking to
say, "Brook should stay with Damian so we don't loose him. I suppose I can dance with you
Harry"

Brook knew what she was plotting, her cruel and mischievous sister...

Without waiting for Harry to agree, Yelena 'accidentally' hip bumped Brook towards Damian,
and when he caught her in his sturdy ams, Yelena was already swaying to Harry's moves.
To appease the onlookers who beheld the impossible before them, Yelena yelled as loud as
she could, "Thats revenge for hiding my lipstick this morning. Now you have to dance with a
Wayne to make up for it or I'll be angry forever!"

Sibling banter...good cover.

Unknown to the origins of said little plan, Harry genuinely added, "Damian hates to dance!
Bet he can't!"

With their excuse provided and the constant pushing of couples and groups around them
keeping them from separating, Brook and Damian did their best to seem displeased as they
swayed to the beat, making sure to stay close to Yelena and Harry.

Harry himself looked about ready to die of laugher at the sight of a Stark and Wayne dancing
together, unaware Brooklyn was secretly glad she could dance with her significant other
instead of watching him get flirted on by someone else.

It was probably the only time in their lives they'd be able to be seen this close together in
public...

Even thought Brook and Damian had spotted their parent's horrified looks on the sidelines,
they kept to the beat, while making sure their dance moves were refined enough to be
considered appropriate, even when they'd danced much closer and wildly as one at clubs
during missions.

It was amidst their dancing/scouting their surroundings, that Brooklyn subtly gestured for
Damian to look far into the crowds to their right where Lex Luthor was dancing without a
care in the world with his somewhat shy wife.

The two were dressed like a Victorian royal couple with crowns and everything, thought Lex
had gone a step further into Loony Town by wearing bright shades Elton John would
recommend and be proud of.

Their target was distracted enough at least.

It was when Damian pointed out that their fathers were looking just about ready to break up
their dancing that Brook came up with a quick enough plan to keep them at bay. She took out
one of her hidden daggers (the one he'd given her for valentine's day), and made sure to press
it close to his skin with each dance step.

Just like the first time they'd met.

Damian followed along with a blade of his own (the vibranium once she'd gifted him), which
conveyed enough 'hatred' between them that they parents did not dare intervene. It also
helped that mom rushed dad to the dance floor and that Damian's own mom had craved a
dance with her husband despite her swollen belly.

Brook kept a relieved sigh from her lips, that and a chuckle at their close call.
It was a further miracle that Damian's siblings were busy introducing Duke to everyone who
approached. They'd be undisturbed by their family for now, eyes finally away from them, that
Brook could hide her blade at last.

Damian himself had moved closer, putting his small blade away as he pressed an arm around
her hip once the crowds began to move closer around them.

Those closest shot them pitiful looks, thinking the two teens must be at the height of
suffering, but Brooklyn decided to keep those female wandering eyes (that were clearly
thinking of asking Damian for a dance) as far away as possible by bringing a hand atop her
boyfriend's shoulder, pulling him closer as a result.

At the height of the song, the additional lights in the room went out, leaving only the colorful
traveling beams to light the floors and people around them.

Now that they were practically unseen, Damian whispered into her ear, "This place reminds
me of Thompson's intolerable Halloween party...just with more old people"

Because of the screaming and cheering around them, Brooklyn too had to pull close to
whisper back, "Well, your casual dancing hasn't gotten any better since that day"

At her teasing words, Brook barely caught a flash of Damian coated in green light before he
dipped her low enough that her loose curls touched the floor. With the eyes unable to see
them in the dark, Damian grew bold at her challenge and leaned close as if he'd let their lips
touch in such a crowded place.

Just before they made contact, Damian pulled her upright once more with a smirk.

With a huff of amusement, Brook gently stepped on his toes with her heels, likely would've
tried to come up with a way to get him back for the teasing had Ned's voice in their ears not
snapped the four back into mission mode.

As the loud music continued to shake the ground around them and keep the masses occupied
in a bliss of cheers and singing, Ned said, "Ok, I got the visual plan of the building before
me. Got all of your positions pinned and the cameras hacked to follow along when Brook and
Damian are ready"

Taking that as their cue, the group was ready to get to work, separating from their dancing.

Just as Brook and Yelena planned to move to the edge of the crowds to not seem so
suspicious, loud and familiar shouting caught their ears, "If it isn't Miss Brooklyn and Miss
Yelena! The princesses of New York!"

Both teens froze mid-steps, noticing Harry and Damian had stoped too, pretending to be
stuck in an argument not far from them in case they needed help. But Lex wouldn't be dumb
enough to reveal himself here before hundreds of people, would he?...

Sure enough, Lex was making his way trough the dancing crowds straight towards them,
occasionally being illuminated by red or yellow lights.
After shaking their hands, both girls were polite enough to greet him (not as Uncle Lex as
he'd requested) and thank him for the invitation to this event, which Lex took with pride.

Time was of the essence, they didn't have time to hold a long conversation with this man of
all people!

It was Yelena that chose to save the day, shouting above the sounds around them, "Mr.
Luthor, its a pleasure to meet you. Since Brook and I have finished dancing and my sister is
waiting to dance with Harry, would you mind helping me find my way to my family? I'd like
to have a dance with my little brother"

Lex beamed at the request (a chance to let him gush over the new Stark). Then the man shoot
a suggestive smile between Brook and Harry, who was still pretending to be arguing with
Damian about formal attire.

Brook had to admit, it was genius to use a rumor to keep Lex from questioning things, and
Yelena's sacrifice would not be put to waste.

So after bidding farewells, Brooklyn casually moved towards the boys, looping an arm
around Harry's as if she truly was about to ask her friend for a dance.

She wasn't sure how they would make it out undetected, but for now, the three moved to the
edge of the crowds were they would be less seen by their families or Lex Luthor.

It was as they watched the security guard rotations and Harry pointed out which exits and
doors to take for their destination that Brooklyn realized they had to act now before even
more people arrived and Lex began looking for them again, even when she knew Yelena
would try to buy them as much time as possible.

They needed another distraction...

As Harry subtly passed a small hard drive ( that Ned made to hack in undetected) with a
subtle pass of a cup of punch, he also mentioned just who in the crowds was likely keeping
an eye on all of them for gossip purposes, only making Brook realize they truly did need
something bigger to slip pout undetected for a few minutes.

"We need a distraction. I don't know, is anyone here good putting up a stupid crazy show to
get their attention?" she asked sarcastically, only for Harry to answer with all seriousness,
"Stupid crazy show? Finally, my time has come"

Without an explanation, Harry shot them both a mischievous wink before making his way
back to the crowd. From the sidelines, Damian and Brook could not hear or see a single
thing, but after a few seconds, the crowds in the dance floor and nearby tables turned away
from the teens to stare at something amongst their masses.

Loud cheering began not just of Harry's name...but Lex's, Bruce's, and her dad's name too.

Then almost ominously, the cha cha slide came on.

Without giving Brook time to ponder just what Harry had done, Damian dragged her into the
shadows as they made their way out of the main room undetected.

The pair had stopped at the nearby supplies closet Harry had mentioned, in which a trash bag
was hidden in place with the guard outfits Tanya had made thanks to Harry's vivid
descriptions from his internship.

Both teens changed back to back, shed their formal attire, amazed to see both outfits fit
perfectly and looked just as legit as those the guards seen around the main room wore. Even
the caps were good enough to hide their hair decently enough.

From the hidden lapels of her dress, Brooklyn pulled out something she'd snatched from
Natasha's things. A clever piece of technology that was banned from SHIELD, but Nat still
kept around.

It was known as a Photostatic Veil in SHIELD files, but Nat often referred to it as a Nano
Mask. It was nothing but a thin, mesh veil of programmable nano-sized holographic cells that
made a photostatic surface that could mimic the appearance of anybody's face.

And because this was SHIELD tech, it also included a voice modifier that could precisely
mimic a wide range of voices.

Despite its greatness, it was a tricky thing to get to work. In order to imitate the face and
voice of a person, a DNA and voice sample from that person were required.

Harry had to befriend a few guards during his internship these past few days, standing by
them with a hidden mic in his jacket to get their voice samples. As for their DNA, Harry,
even the kind boy, had taken to eating with said guards during breaks and had managed to get
them a few cups of coffee with enough saliva to gather said DNA sample.

These were scanned by Brook and Yelena using a special case which calibrates the mask to
make a highly accurate imitation of the desired guards.

It had its limitations of course, the program's memory could only store up to three facial
scans at a time. Two facial features were programmed by Nat in each mask already, and
neither teen had wanted to risk Nat finding out they were borrowed, so they'd had to resolve
to only having one face scan on each mask.

Brook was pretty sure the creator of said mask had been some HYDRA doctor that had been
killed not long ago. If these masks were damaged, they would never be able to be fixed again.

With that nervous thought in mind, Brooklyn activated them just as Damian made sure their
stolen guns and walkie talkies were functioning properly. He'd stolen them upon arriving
from some guards that were drunk off their asses, that may or may not had been nudged by
Harry into having a bit of fun.

Once the masks were projecting the data from the two guards ( which Jon should've knocked
out and hidden by now, after 'accidentally' spotting the two at a nearby bar they seemed to
frequent before work per her and Yelena's espionage observations) they were seemingly good
to go.

Brooklyn handed the male mask to Damian and she kept the one of the woman, whose
heights and builds Harry had deemed they resembled the most.

The veil adhered tightly over their faces when put on, projecting the texture, pigmentation,
contour lines, eye color, and some structural aspects of the guard's faces. Once on and ready
to go, Ned instructed them through the guards usual routine points to seem more normal.

Side by side, she and Damian kept from talking to any other guard that kept watch over the
empty halls of the Lex building, which were kept off limits for guests tonight. All offices and
cubicles were empty today, no workers on sight either.

It was minutes later that she and Dami made a slight deviation from their route once they
knew they were alone. Brook subtly connected the nail sized hard drive into one of the
simple computers used by a random worker, which allowed Ned to properly hack into the
cameras in the building and change the images to hide their movements.

Once Ned gave the enthusiastic ok that his programing had worked, he guided them hall after
hall towards what Ned referred to as the room with the main computer for classified
information, stuff off the public channels of the building.

Only Ned did not guide them towards a door, but to a vent. Tanya's internship at her dad's
Sheriff's Office had been key in finding the vast security measures LexCorp had that
firefighters and police would keep in mind case of an emergency.

Handing over said documents to MJ, the curly haired girl was able to use her Internship at the
City Hall to confirm the dimensions of the building to map out a safe way in. That safe way
in was a vent system that led Brook and Damian to the top of said room.

All those precautions and planning had to be made thanks to the fact that Jon would not look
inside the building thanks to all the led covering the walls. A countermeasure for Superman
on Lex's part for sure.

So they'd had to do it the long way...

Though they barely had enough room to stretch out their arms in these small vents, both teens
worked together to get into position for the trickiest part of their plan.

As Tanya had found out, this room held only a single computer guarded by all kinds of crazy
measures. The ground was covered in lasers that would trigger an alarm in seconds, closing
the room with impenetrable steel and stone walls meant for trapping the intruder. The walls
themselves were so smooth it was impossible to adhere to them in any way. If that wasn't
enough, eight cameras pointed at the door, which required a fingerprint, eye, and badge scan
to get through.

Not willing to risk getting any of that wrong, MJ had suggested coming down from above,
which Peter had helped to solve the how of that predicament after mentioning espionage
movies did this kind of thing all the time.

Lifting up her sleeve, Brooklyn eyed her thick bracelets that no only served to cover her
childhood scars as well as her vibranium accessories....but concealed one of Peter's web-
shooters as well.

After placing it on properly, recalling Peter's instructions and practice at her apartment from
these past few days. Brooklyn apologized in a voice that was not her own as she shot a web
straight on the back of Damian's security suit.

"This should hold, just try no to wiggle too much and attach the hard drive as soon as
possible" Brooklyn whispered.

Damian nodded once, lifting the small hatch, looking down that the large drop with
concentration.

With the web shooter, Brooklyn shot another web at the end of the tunnel, hoping it would be
enough to keep them both from falling. Peter had insisted his self-made material could hold,
that Brooklyn could pull Damian back up with ease, had done the math and everything.

Even with numbers on their side, Brooklyn found herself begging Damian to be careful, to
which she quickly moved to press their foreheads together. For three short breaths, the two
just basked in the presence of the other, then Damian moved to make the drop.

Slowly Damian descended, and from her place holding the two webs in place, Brooklyn
couldn't see a single thing. All her focus went on the strain on her arms.

By some miracle, when Damian tugged on the web and she pulled him back up, they had not
been spotted, triggered a single alarm, and he was back to safety beside her.

But Damian didn't look happy in the least.

Pulling out the small hand-sized monitor Ned had lent them, Brooklyn saw what their friend
had been able to hack in to most of the files, which explained his concentrated silence.

From what he sent over to them right away, there were detailed layouts for machines built
against kryptonians, some even using the same alien tech mechanics Brook had been able to
find in recent weapon busts.

Then came the stuff Damian was angry about.

Other documents showed tracking of the Avenger's and Justice League's moves, files on each
one, but most focused on the 'out of world' heroes like Thor, Martian Manhunter, and even
without being involved in either group, Starfire, Supergirl and...and Superboy were listed too.

Their Jon.

Thankfully, Lex didn't seem know his secret identity.

There was no doubt about it now, Lex Luthor was Cobalus. To be so obsessed with heroes,
finding ways to kill them, using alien tech...

here wasn't even time to even process all of that or their next move, not when they had to
rush out of the vents since guard rotations would change soon.

Ned kept cursing in their ears as the two teens managed to get the cameras working again and
make their way back towards the little closet space to change. Only on their way, Damian
stopped them mid-stride.

She heard it now...laugher.

The Joker's laughter. Maniacal, unrestrained, and terrifying.

Their blood went cold at the sound room away from them, down a corridor Ned informed
them was reserved for guest events.

Faster than she could react, Damian took out his stolen gun, loaded it, and began making his
way towards said room.

Brooklyn quickly moved to stand before him, making sure no cameras could see them and
that no guards were coming around the corner as she whispered, "Are you crazy! What do
you think you're doing!?"

Damian took off his veil, face and voice back to being his own as he said angrily, "This only
confirms it, Lex is Cobalus and the Joker is just rooms away, unaware we're here. We should
get him, would be one less ally for Lex to have"

"If we do so unprepared, we risk getting exposed" Brooklyn countered, gently grabbing the
wrist holding onto the gun to try lower it as she added, "Plus making a mess here will
endanger everyone at the party, especially if the Scarecrow is there. Its best we go back to
make sure everyone is safe in case those two have something planned"

Not to mention, there were guards coming around soon, she could hear their footsteps.

Damian needed to make a choice and he needed to make it now. Because if he chose to go
after the Joker, Brooklyn would not stop him, she'd try her best to be good backup no matter
what they faced. They faced things together after all.

The Joker was more Damian's fight than her own, someone who had done many wrongs to
his family. It was up to Damian to decide if he chose justice or vengeance, Brooklyn could
only support him in whatever he deemed best.

She just hoped he chose to do the right thing.

As the footsteps and voices neared, Brook was seconds away from trying to create a
distraction... but then Damian glared at the door down the hall for a good minute, eventually
breathing out his anger and frustrations, letting her drop his arm.
Though she understood his need to get the Joker for all he had done...this just wasn't the place
to do it, especially when they were so unaware of what they would find. As much as she too
was tempted to go in there and set the room on fire, they just couldn't be foolish about
something as big as this.

Plus, killing was not the way they did things. Not anymore.

So they got back to the closet, changed back into their gala attire, then gave the signal to Ned
for Jon to fly the actual unconscious guards back to the building, leaving them outside the
alleyway with drinks in their hands as if they had slacked off on their jobs after one too many
drinks.

Brooklyn was careful to burn the spare guard outfits, leaving the guns and badges for Harry
to return to the other guards later tonight.

When they arrived back to the dark room with loud music and a thrall of dancing bodies,
Brook was glad to find Harry waiting for them by the edge of the crowd.

He quickly rushed to their side with a smile on his face, his first words being, "Ok, your
parents and Lex were distracted until a minute ago. No one noticed you were gone"

Brooklyn wanted to ask how, but then she beheld her dad and Bruce Wayne seething in anger
at their own tables and thought it might be best she didn't know.

It was dad who then noticed her at the edge of the crowd, moving towards her, leaving
Harley, Yelena, and mom at the table with the Richards (the famous members of the Fantastic
Four if she recalled correctly).

Damian had the good sense to pretend to be standing separately from them.

When dad arrived with greetings, Harry said to dad as soon as he was close enough, "Mr.
Stark! Would you mind if I borrow your daughter for a dance? Damian Wayne is getting on
my nerves and I want some sweet revenge, Brook too, right?"

Dad looked to her as he asked, "Aren't you tired yet? Haven't you been dancing all this time?"

Brooklyn smiled, "Of course I'm ok. Plus if Harry wants to bother a Wayne, how can I
refuse?"

Dad considered, then smiled and went back to the Stark table with a silly warning not to have
too much fun.

Just as Brook was about to ask Harry just how he intended to 'bother' Damian, she was pulled
backwards. Harry did not hesitate grabbing onto Damian's sleeve with his free hand, leading
the two confused teens back into the dance floor.

Once in its middle, Harry whispered, "Lets give these people an excuse to say they saw you
in the dance floor tonight and not missing. We especially need to send a message that at least
we don't associate with a Wayne before rumors start. Whats better than the three greatest
heirs of the century having a casual yet competitive dance?"
Then louder, Harry yelled so the crowd would hear, "I challenge you both! Think you can
keep up?"

Brooklyn wasn't sure what that meant, but with a song number request shouted by Harry to
the DJ, everyone's attention was on the three of them in the middle of the dance floor.

She was almost mortified to ask what Harry had planned, even when she trusted his social
instincts and tactics more than her own.

A song more classically elegant that anything that had been played tonight came on. Silently,
Harry motioned for the two confused ex-assassins to raise their hands in the middle of their
self made circle.

They did so, not letting their hands touch as Harry led them spinning clockwise, making sure
to give the hint that they should be glaring at one another.

It wasn't until then that she understood what Harry wanted.

There was no way people hadn't seen them talking, and if Lex ever figured out someone had
hacked him tonight, he'd suspect the people he had not been around when it had happened.

As Cobalus, he'd know of her Red Room ways and Damian's League ones. It wouldn't take
long to suspect Harry after that...so they had to act like their talking was not them plotting,
but just three powerful heirs being unfortunate enough to be in the same place. Especially
when it came to her and Damian.

Despite his general distaste for being amongst crowds, dancing, and Harry...Damian played
his role well, the role everyone expected from him as the heir of the three who didn't back
down from challenges. The one who hated Brook and Harry enough to do whatever it took to
win.

So they spun around, mockingly glaring at one another as they engaged in an elegant dance
that did not fit this atmosphere.

They were nothing but three heirs engaged in a mental fight rather than teammates, locked in
a confrontation that given their backgrounds, could only be done with this level of elegance
and cold calculation.

Harry, ever the bold and boisterous one of the three was the one to set the pace of this odd
dance that being shifted to accommodate for three dancers.

After two rotations, he paused his steps to grab Brooklyn by the waist, spinning around with
her once, eyes calculating with a cruel seductive grace before spinning her towards Damian
who followed the same moves, only this time the gaze upon her was one of (fake) hatred and
feigned superiority.

Brooklyn knew her role, what the world saw her as.

So she played her part well, the heiress of the powerful trio who had all the confidence in the
world, the one out of the three that would engage this little dance simply because she had
something to prove, that despite her absence since childhood, she could keep up with the
games already at play.

So she smirked confidently up at Damian, and once she was passed on to take another spin
with Harry, she too locked her arm around his own hips, meeting his calculated amusement
with an unfazed grin.

To end their performance, Harry then gracefully moved them to face off one last time, one
last clockwise turn with both hands raised in the middle. It was one last chance to let people
be enthralled by the power they possessed, the positions of the three riches people in the
world they'd one day inherit, which would turn them into the riches amongst the rich.

It was not something Brooklyn relished in doing, knew Damian and Harry felt the same...but
for the sake of what they had done and had to do, they'd play the part of ambitious 'enemies'
for a night.

Once the music came to and end and Brooklyn and Damian remained locked in a glare-off
(that secretly meant a thousand apologies and a million reassurances) the crowd knew better
than to clap or cheer.

When Damian made his way back to his family with an intense sort of seriousness, the
crowds merely parted in awe. When Harry did the same to make his way back to his
unconcerned father back at the Osborn table, Harry merely shot her a mocking bow between
friends/company enemies before the crowds parted before him as well.

The crowds were quiet, perhaps even a little afraid of the reminder they'd witnessed. In fact,
it was when she looked amongst those closest that she noticed Duke Thomas...no...Duke
Wayne within them, away from the Wayne table to cheer and clap for her and the others.

He was the only one with the guts to do so it seemed.

Brooklyn considered going back to her family, reassuring them the cruel dance had just been
a product of a challenge between Brook and Damian as enemies, when a hand took hold of
her shoulder.

She was more than a little surprised to see just who stood behind her, clad in an elegant tux
and a golden crown similar to the one his father chose to wear.

Lex Jr.

As the beats of the song went back to their usual modern vibrancy, Lex Jr. payed no mind to
the onlookers wondering if anther standoff was to take place when he asked quite the
opposite.

"Miss Stark" he said softly, "Its been a long time, would you do me the honor of accepting a
dance?"

Brooklyn noticed the swaying and jumping bodies around them were waiting for an answer,
and with her friends gone...she had no choice but to accept the hand of Cobalus' son.
As they swayed around in place to yet another modern mashup, Lex Jr. was polite enough to
keep his hands to himself for the most part. From what she could tell the last few times they'd
met, Lex jr. was a shy thing, his mind far away.

Though he was her age, dad had mentioned once or twice that Lex Jr was homeschooled.
Aside from that, she hadn't bothered to look too far past his curly brown hair and green eyes
that were thankfully not as crazed as those of his father.

But Brooklyn realized she hadn't even considered him as part of the equation that was this
war with Cobalus.

Did Lex Jr. know what his dad did? Did he approve or not care at all?

She didn't dare listen to the small voice of Ivan in her head saying the boy dancing before her
could be used as leverage against Cobalus if need be. She wasn't sick enough to seek a
victory that way.

Maybe Lex Jr. noted her far off look, because he gently took her hand into his own and
offered a tour of the lower levels of the building. It didn't seem like much of a choice
considering the eyes around them, but she agreed anyways.

Brook was almost glad the com in her ear turned on again, this time with Yelena, Harry, and
Damian stating they'd be at her side if something bad happened.

That they'd be listening in to keep her safe.

To their surprise, the usually shy Lex Jr. was not backing away from complementing Brook's
looks this evening. He didn't have the quick and crazed talking habits of his father, but spoke
with a quiet sort of sincerity that seemed more like his mother, who Harry still swore might
not even be Lana but a rumored alien, like gossip often said.

Since Lex WAS Cobalus, Brooklyn highly doubted the man would even trust an alien to be in
the same room with him.

In all honestly, Lex Jr seemed like any regular teenager, perhaps one that was lonelier than
most. Unlike her, Damian, or Harry, he did not seem to even put a thought into the fact that
this company would be his one day.

Even when she'd seen him at the Family Day competition, it seemed like Lex Sr was the only
one with authority and power. Lex Jr. was content to stay in the shadows.

As the two made their way down the halls with polished white floors and smooth walls to
match, with a few framed paintings every now and then as the only splash of color, he asked,
"I hope Harry and Damian were not giving you a hard time earlier. They've been getting into
arguments since they were young...such a shame they dragged you along this time"

On her ear piece, she heard Damian huff annoyedly while Harry outright laughed.

For a brief moment, Brooklyn wondered if Dami's lack of words were due to what had
happened with the Joker earlier. She knew how hard that decision had been for him, and he
hadn't even had time to process if fully thanks to them getting roped into a public stunt.

If the Joker was still here...no. Nothing could be done about that without endangering lives.
After what had happened with Duke's parents and the other hostages, the last thing Brook
ever wanted was to be faced with innocents stuck between conflict.

Plus, Lex Jr was looking to her for an answer to an innocent enough question.

"Harry and I are good friends" Brooklyn declared, "He just wanted to tease the Wayne, but I
guess we all got a little competitive as to which of us is the best. Spending an evening in an
environment that reminds us of our futures and the expectations we have are messing with
our heads. I even did my best to hide in the crowd today to avoid getting pestered by others"

Lex Jr. laughed at that, slowing his pace as he opened a door to his right, one that led to a
small balcony outlooking the small conservatory behind the LexCorp building. Brooklyn
made her way outside, beholding the tall sky-scrapers around them, the night sky beyond
where a full moon looked down upon them with a vibrant glow.

Her unexpected company, now standing beside her before the metal railing, replied, "I can
see why you all might be on edge. Harry is interning with my paps, it was from him that I
heard you're at Wayne Enterprises and Damian is at Stark Industries. Its almost like school is
punishing you towards the future"

Brooklyn wanted to argue that the crime around the world (thanks to his father) was more of
a punch of reality that school or an internship was. But so far, she wasn't certain what kind of
involvement he might have in this.

Whenever she was around, Lex Sr was obsessed with trying to get her and his son together.
And whatever suggestion his father made, it seemed Lex Jr listened every time.

"Its not so bad" Brooklyn said, playing with the golden bracelets that concealed the past and a
borrowed weapon before adding, "Its easier to think of the future knowing there are others
that are going through the same thing. Harry is a big help"

And Damian of course...but that she could not say.

Lex smiled, albeit a bit shyly, as he asked while keeping his eyes on the celestial wonder
above them, "I've heard you and Harry are dating, or at least considering it"

Brook almost laughed.

From her earpiece, she could hear Yelena's amused snorts, mom's voice in the distance asking
if the blonde was ok. Damian remained quiet on the line when Harry said, "Well, I want to
date Jon's aunt! Why doesn't anyone ask me who I'd love to date!?"

Brooklyn tried to ignore that cursed mental image, but replied confidently, "Rumors are
pesky things. Harry is a friend and he's a great guy, but our futures will not intertwine that
way, never past out friendship"
As expected, Lex Jr did not inquire if Brook was dating Damian, not when that was seen as
something impossible, even amongst rumors and gossip of their social circles, where far
fetched things often seemed to be discussed. In some ways, she was glad their efforts to
conceal their something more were effective, the other was upset...saddened that people
couldn't see the feelings they themselves could not ignore.

It didn't hit her right away as to why Lex had strayed the conversation this way, not until he
turned to face her, green eyes so unlike Damian's, locking onto her own as he asked, "If you
agree, I would like to dine with you some day. I know you must be busy with school and the
upcoming Stark Expo, but I think we should make up for the time we were not able to get to
know one another as children"

Before Brooklyn could even blink at the words, Damian was already saying into the coms,
"Kayf yajru 'an yas'alak dhalika!"

Ignoring Harry's confusion over the Arabic language, Brooklyn herself was astounded Lex
would ask such a thing.

How dare he ask you that!, Damian had commented. Though she understood that in the eyes
of the world she was not with a partner, it made her feel frustrated to not be able to explain
she was spoken for, that she was happy with someone.

Just as she was about to make up some excuse, Yelena said, "Don't be an idiot Brook! Get
close to Cobalus' son and we'll have more information! We could take Lex Luthor out from
within much easier this way!"

Brook knew her sister saw the glorious opportunity something like this could provide,
Brooklyn could see it too. It's what any good spy would do, it's what SHIELD would expect
them to do...what Nat would have done in their shoes.

But it was wrong.

What if Lex Jr was in on Cobalus' hero-killing plans? Worse, what if he wasn't?

What if Lex had asked his son to get close to her? What if this was a trap or a plot?

Unable to make such a decision now, even with Harry's and Yelena's encouragement,
Brooklyn merely agreed to check her schedule and get back to him on a day she was free. He
seemed to like that answer, and with that, Lex Jr. guided her back inside the building to get
away from the cold.

Conversation lingered on comments about the energetic gala and the money raised so far for
farmers affected by large corporations, something Lex's mother was very passionate about.
Apparently, she'd been the one to organize this event with Kansas in mind, her home town
specifically.

The brown haired teen causally mentioned his mom was from the city of Smallville...the
town Jon's grandmother lived in. The town Clark Kent, aka Superman, had been raised in.
Brooklyn didn't even have to wonder if the two ever crossed paths when Damian clarified,
"My Godfather and Lana Luthor went to school together. They are decent acquaintances now,
but she does not know he's Superman"

Could Lana knowing Clark be a reason Lex Luthor wanted Superman dead? It seemed far
fetched, a coincidence at most. But it was something to consider for sure...

As they walked, Brooklyn almost pulled out Peter's web-shooter when she heard the Joker's
faint laughter again. Looking to Lex Jr, Brook was surprised he seemed calm and unaffected
even when he too must be able to hear it.

Just before she could theorize he was in on his father's plans for sure, the teen smiled at her
confused face.

He pointed to a room to her left and said, "Dad made that into a new security room, meant to
try and keep track of villains"

Lex opened the door to reveal a dark room full of small screens along the walls, There was a
security guard sitting before them, one who happily smiled at Lex Jr and Brook, then
proceeded back to watching his screens.

"These are all the news feeds from the city. Dad likes to make sure the city is safe so his
employees aren't harmed"

Brooklyn didn't believe that for a second, not when his dad clearly wanted to kill Superman
and other heroes like him.

At least that meant the Joker was not in this building, and once they made it back to the main
room and Brooklyn saw for herself that nothing was amiss and villains were not on
sight...then she finally relaxed.

For once, nothing had gone terribly wrong...

Once she said goodbye to Lex Jr and successfully ignored everyone's curious stares, Brook
caught sight of all her friends at their assigned tables, each with their family. Brooklyn
happily made her way to her own table, even when she noticed the Wayne table she'd passed
had been less than happy to see her.

Bruce did not even try to be subtle when he glared her way, a wave from Duke seemed
slightly out of place, and the rest of Damian's brothers looked at her like they were studying
her.

Damian was sitting far from his family, on the other side of the round table from where he'd
likely been able to talk without being overheard. Close enough to the doors she'd excited
through in case backup was needed.

The fact that he had been ready to drop everything to help her was a relief in itself.

As she passed by the enemy table, Brooklyn suddenly felt Damian's discreet hand hold onto
her own for the briefest of seconds, hidden from sight of anyone at the Wayne table, those
passing by, or the individuals that the dance floor.

The simple hand clutch was not just a reassurance between them, one they both definitely
needed after everything from tonight, but perhaps a reminder that even when rumors of her
dating Harry or even likely those that would arise after tonight of her and Lex Jr possibly
having a thing... they knew the truth in their hearts.

And that was enough.

As quickly as the contact came, it left as she took another step towards her table, and the
crowds around them were none the wiser about the small interaction.

Once back with her family, Brooklyn was pestered by dad about her absence, looking pitiful
that she'd had to spend time with Lex's son, which caused Harley to move closer to her side
as a sign of comfort.

Sitting between her siblings, Brooklyn assured her parents all was well, that she'd had enough
socializing for the day.

After greeting over ten dozen people, eating, and Brook sharing a dance with her two
siblings, the Starks retired for the night. Brook was dropped off at her apartment, and the rest
of her family went back to the compound feeling tired out after a long party.

Brooklyn and Yelena left that gala with more information than they knew what to do with.

It should've made them happy that their mission had been a success, should've felt more
confident in winning the fight....but Brooklyn could tell they were both all the more worried
for whatever was to come.
 Animal Planet Documentary...Part 2

Jason Todd (Wayne) POV-

This was a crime.

Stalking a person was a crime, but it was one the Wayne family was guilty of a hundred times
over. That was their thing, breaking the law occasionally 'for the good of the world'. At least
Jason had always seen it that way before his impromptu demise. Now he didn't try to justify it
as much. To put it bluntly, spying was part of the job, so he didn't feel even an ounce of
remorse as he began following around a certain member of New York's unofficial royalty.

His siblings were far too busy to know what Jason was up to, which was good considering
they'd either stop or join him in stalking the one and only...Brooklyn Stark.

Damian on the other hand, he'd definitely kill Jason for stalking his crush, which is why
Jason had been smart enough to wait until a day the demon spawn was busy. While his
brother was stuck working with Tony Stark (or possibly being killed by him), Jason would do
what was necessary to gather vital intel. If Damian didn't have the guts to work around baby
Spider-man...then at least Jason had the balls to do a little poking around of his own.

The plan had been simple, watch from a distance while trying to figure out more about the
girl. To pinpoint out her likes and dislikes which he could one day feed Damian subtly.

He'd never expected his shitty plan to go...well, to shit. Then again, Jason was never one for
subtly.

At first though, things had gone smoothly as he observed. During said time, Jason was
actually impressed if not a bit curious as to the girl's choice of lifestyle. From what he had
noted so far, Brooklyn Stark was surprisingly humble despite her overflowing bank account.
Her apartment WAS in one of the riches and safest parts of Queens, but the most expensive
things in her apartment tended to be security measures.

Without taking his eye off the target, he procured the small recording device Timmy had
given him long ago. In was nothing fancy, cold to the touch, but as soon as he clicked the
button to bring it to life, Jason whispered into it, "The adolescent stays in her habitat,
rumored arachnid mate nowhere in sight. All is quiet in the wild today"

Tim was right, this was amusing.

"The adolescent has begun her third round of ballet dancing in the living room, it is unknown
if this is to one day attract a mate, or something to enhance fighting skills meant for surviving
in the wild"

Just as Jason began trying to come up with another witty bit of commentary for his siblings to
enjoy later, he noticed Brooklyn moving to an unseen part of her apartment and then
emerging with a duffle bag in a black set of clothes before heading out the door. Jason
remained in the shadows as he silently stalked down from the building he'd climbed an hour
ago, using a stray pipe to slide down for better eye coverage.

It didn't take that long to find out the Stark had made it to a sketchy but abandoned alley way
nearby. There she changed into the familiar getup of the famous Firestar, for which Jason
stopped looking to give her privacy. He was many things, an ass, a murderer, maybe had a
few screws loose...but he wasn't a fucking pervert.

Once the hero in a skintight suit of red and golden armor flew up into the air with gusts of
fire, Jason followed along, hoping from roof to roof and swinging alongside buildings with
ease when the situation called for it. As far as being seen by simple civilians, Jason was not
too concerned about that. He knew that even outside of Gotham's city limits, if anyone saw
the identifiable Red Hood helmet they'd quickly turn and run away. Sometimes there were
just simple perks in life for being a little more stabby than others.

As expected, it seemed the baby Black Widow was starting her patrols around Queens, doing
anything from stopping the pettiest of crimes that one could argue were 'below the station' of
a renowned hero, to following a lead to stop a major crime. Never complaining, no breaks,
just blindly doing whatever it took to keep violence off these unknown streets.

Thats how Jason found himself in the shadows between buildings across from what looked to
be a family owned bank. It was late, surely the place had closed, yet flashes of light came
from within the establishment. The robbers couldn't even be smart enough to do their work in
the dark...idiots.

It came as no shock when Firestar made her way inside through the large mail duct, and
Jason had been content in letting her deal with the four or five criminals within while he
scrolled through social media. Then he noticed a truck arrive, stopping before the 'lonely'
business.

A white van...that was never good.

True to his thoughts, three people in clown masks emerged from the back doors, each with a
shiny new alien weapon that they seemed jittery to use...then made their ways inside through
the front door which had been unlocked by their criminal allies within. Jason waited for the
fighting noises from inside to halt, perhaps even for some backup to come to the girl's aid
from her little group of misfits. If Spider-man showed up, Jason might ask for an autograph,
or scare him into breaking up with Brooklyn...he wasn't sure yet.

But more bright flashes of light came from the small building, and no one else arrived.

With a groan, Jason realized this is what Alfred would call 'a vital moment to decide what
kind of person he wanted to be'. He could either pull out his little recording device and crack
a few jokes, or he could go in there to see if a Stark needed help.

The second option was odd to think about doing, but would inevitably piss off Bruce the
most, so Jay quickly pulled up the red hood of his jacket atop his helmet-covered head, fixed
the lapels of his leather jacket, and snuck inside.
The place itself was not too destroyed all things considered, messy at best, but maybe that
was because the fighting came from further inside. Jason took his time loading his handguns
for the incoming firefight, didn't bother being stealthy with the sound of his heavy boots on
broken glass as he made it to the room of the fray.

Inside, Firestar had four bodies unconscious behind her on the floor. None of them dead. She
was weaving around the bright blue blasts from the three idiots firing at the darling of the
United Fucking States of America. Wherever a blast hit, the wall would freeze. Not a slushy
sort of frozen, but an Antarctic-below-zero-degrees sort of freeze that set off tendrils of cold
smoke and shattered the wall's structure along it.

If it touched human skin, maybe Firestar's fire-producing machines could scare away the
frostbite. But that was a fat maybe.

For what it was worth, the girl was not not doing too shabby for her age. As expected from a
trained assassin of a reputable guild, she dodged with ease and fluidity, firing rounds from the
shiny black gauntlets at her wrists as she moved, only for her rounds to be frozen midair,
exploding like little fireworks.

Why wasn't she using her flaming weapons?, Jay couldn't help but wonder.

Was it the idea of accidentally burning the idiots attacking her too gruesome? Maybe the
small size of the room made her hesitate?

Either way, Jason decided to throw away his beautiful position of invisibility as he shot the
three men in clown masks, his repetitive shots fired so close together one might've mistook it
as only one bullet. He shot em' dead without a second thought.

Firestar's masked face turned into something between rage and shock then, perhaps even
slight panic as she beheld the bleeding heads not too far from her. She almost looked like she
might try to go over and help, hold their brains in place or something equally as useless to
keep the bastards alive.

Jason knew he'd get the ever famous 'Killing is bad' speech from deal ol' Bruce if he ever
caught wind of this little outing, but it might actually be worth it, because Brooklyn Stark
turned towards the entrance with every intention to fire her little weapons his way. He almost
wanted her to go ahead and try and fight him, to be able to have a little rematch for when she
put him on his ass that day in Damian's room all those months ago. It was no secret he tended
to crave chaos.

He beat her to it though, coming out of the shadows, past the frosty smoke as he waved a
hand her way. It probably didn't help that his gun was clearly still loaded, but it was as
friendly as he got in these instances.

"Good afternoon, Miss Firestar. Pleasant evening for making the Joker's head ache with
annoyance don't you think?"

Upon noting the mask and red painted bat symbol on his black chest armor, the girl sighed.
"You're shitting me...what are YOU of all people doing here in Queens?" she asked, not only
annoyedly, but defensively.

Honestly, Jason hadn't bothered to come up with a plan in case the Stark spotted him. He
wasn't entirely sure what to do in a situation like this. On one hand, he couldn't tell the girl he
was here just to spy on her so that his little demonic brother could have a chance with her
because he's got such a large stick up his ass and will never willingly admit to feelings so
scheming is the only way this will happen to ruin Bruce's year...whew, that was a
mouthful...but even without that, Jay recognized he must look very suspicious right about
now.

Luckily, Alfred once mentioned that confidence was the key to success in any situation. So
Jason lazily leaned against the doorway, twirling his guns with expertise as he said casually,
"Can't someone like me come take casual strolls in Queens? I know its your kingdom, but
sometimes Gotham can get so gloomy that I find myself in need of a change of scenery"

Brooklyn Stark rolled her eyes at the excuse, but instead of calling him out on his load of
shit, she gazed down upon the dead bodies that now left small growing puddles of blood
between them. For just a second, he thought she might turn her weapons on him again, but
instead, the teen just looked on exasperatedly. It took a little longer than it should've to realize
why she was troubled, an assassin being distressed by blood was too silly a reason to be true
after all. It all made sense now...the police were on their way, and if they found dead bodies
where those left alive could attest to Firestar being their attacker, it could mess up her
prestigious record of heroism.

A little something he hadn't considered earlier.

Jason truly had no clue why he did it, coming in here saving a Stark, then following that
unexpected kindness with another by telling her to wait on the roof of a building across the
street. The girl clearly didn't view it as such, moving to stand before the remaining
unconscious criminals as if she'd defend them from being killed.

Red Hood actually had to hand over his fucking weapons and all leftover alien arms in the
room to the girl for her to agree to his orders...plus he'd had to promise not to kill anyone
else. She'd glared at him for a good while until the sirens of cop cars could be heard nearby,
she assessed him silently until something in the Stark's train of thought had her relenting her
suspicions. Firestar left just in time to not be spotted, and after cursing himself out mentally
for a while, Jay exited the building to make sure the cops got a good look at the red helmet he
wore before he disappeared from them...leaving the Joker's bitches alive too.

Truth was, he HAD planned on killing them all once Brooklyn left, had almost gone through
with the plan with his bare hands as soon as those pathetic criminals murmured something
about recognizing him, threatening to kill him with a dusty crowbar or setting the building on
fire. Oh yeah, he'd really wanted to kill them then, but he was already on thin ice with Miss
Stark, even he had the restraint to know pissing her off now might just get rid of whatever
crumb of non-hatred she held for the Waynes. A crumb his brother desperately needed.

Jason never thought he'd say this, but for Damian's sake, he let the Joker's followers live.
Funny how the easiest thing he'd done tonight had been taking a few lives, but leaving others
breathing...that had been the true mental debate of the century for him.

Thankfully after all that, Firestar was atop the building he'd indicated even though he'd been
almost 100% sure she'd bail once she noted the criminals below were still breathing. She was
shrouded in the shadows of the night, staring down at the little pile of his confiscated
weapons before her like they'd offended her.

When he appeared a few steps beside her, the girl immediately straightened, glaring through
her mask as she asked, "I don't even want to know what another Wayne is doing in this city,
but why would you take the hit for it just now?"

Jason chuckled, suddenly aware this girl knew nothing about him or his occasional little
defiance against Bruce's rules.

He settled on the edge of the building, letting the blue and red lights of the police cars below
glow against his covered skin as he said, "Damian probably told you about that justice not
vengeance ideology of his now that you two are heroes together. Just so you're aware, I find
that killing is sometimes necessary, the only way to deal with a problem and make sure it
doesn't bite you in the ass later. I killed those people with no regrets, my reputation as Red
Hood certainly shows it...but you still have a clean record"

Jason barely noted the way she flinched at that last part, made him wonder if her old assassin
days kept her up at night. If Bruce's jabs that day she stayed at the manor had truly gotten to
her. He'd suspected they had even then, which is why his siblings had started a fight to cool
down the tension that day, to keep Bruce from ruining all chances of Damian ending up with
the girl now standing beside Jason.

Yet her gaze remained strong, defiant, and cold as she settled along the ledge beside him,
beholding the mess of cops, first responders, and criminals below as she challenged, "You
misunderstand, my question was, why help a Stark?"

Ah, thats right. As a Wayne, he was supposed to set her up for failure as far as she was
concerned.

"As much as I dislike Damian, you saved his life from the Joker and his crowbar, then you
saved Tim's life at the Osborn Gala. I don't like being indebted to people for long, so consider
us even, your majesty" he replied, surprised he actually meant some of it.

For all this family drama and mess in general, Brooklyn Stark HAD saved his brothers from
the clown bastard Jason hated most in this life. Sure, he was here to mess with Bruce, but
perhaps his feet had moved towards that building for the debt he truly did owe.

"You don't owe me for that," the girl replied, finding no use in keeping her mask on in front
of him as she removed it. Brooklyn looked sidelong at him, glare now evident as she added,
"Besides, shouldn't me being a Stark mean more than that?"

Jason chuckled, "I may be the undead walking, but I still have honor"
Oblivious to the truth behind his words, the girl actually dared to brandish the smallest of
smirks.

"Well, then consider the debt payed in full," she replied while standing atop said ledge,
shaking invisible dust off her thin metal suit as she added, "I have patrols to continue,
especially since the Joker tends to send people in various small groups, I have to go find the
ones left before they actually destroy or kill something"

He should've left, continued his solo investigation from a far, but wouldn't it be something if
he...

"Very well. The night is still young, we should get going"

Brooklyn froze mid-stretch, looking flabbergasted as she whirled to face him.

"What do you mean we?"

Jason smirked, even though he too was slightly taken back with his own words. This wasn't
even about finding more of the Joker's idiots, it wasn't about vengeance, which was a first
after years of being driven by that alone. He was curious, not just for the demon spawn's
sake, as to what kind of person Brooklyn Stark truly was. He was curious of the assassin that
danced delicately like she walked on air, that incapacitated enemies with ease, and was
willing to hold a conversation with a family enemy without throwing him off the roof.

So even as she took to the skies with a dismissive scoff, he followed. It was actually kinda
funny how she tried to shake him off her trail, but Jason kept up with ease as he hopped from
roof to roof. Eventually, their little game of chase was put to an abrupt stop when they spotted
what Firestar had spoken of. Another cluster of the Joker's lackeys were ransacking a small
police building, clearly looking for information.

Meaning the previous bank robbery was nothing more than a distraction.

Jason wondered how the Stark had figured that out, how often such a thing must happen that
she was used to thinking of a future confrontation during a fight.

The auburn-haired Stark payed him no mind as she landed before the glass doors of the
building and got to work. Again, Jason considered sitting on the sidelines to observe and
analyze...but his internal drive to fight was perhaps too strong to shrug off, so he joined the
fray once more.

The hero and vigilante generally stayed out of one another's way, but the few times Jason had
pulled out a gun to get rid of one of the masked fools, a swift wave of flames melted the
bullet before it could hit its mark. Firestar kept to her own fights with no flames in sight,
choosing small blades to knock out her opponents, but it seemed like she always kept an eye
on Jason to see just when he'd try to kill again.

Stupid fire machines...

They went on like that for about a dozen or so unconscious bodies until Jason decided he
might as well save himself some bullets and spare Miss Stark some concentration.

For the first time in a long time, Jason didn't go for the kill, instead he used his fists and legs
to do his bidding. He was further surprised to find that Firestar had his back as soon as she
realized he wasn't killing people. That had him obligated to watch her six in return. Jay was
almost delirious with amusement when he realized he'd likely saved her life once or twice,
and that she hadn't hesitated to do the same either.They fought with relative ease, dodging
alien lasers, pushing the other out of the way when a close call was spotted. Jason even gave
the girl a boost, letting her launch off his hands to land the last punch for a guy who'd thought
threatening them with a grenade had been a good idea.

At the end of the long fight, Jason almost let out a surprised laugh that no one's life had ended
by his hands during the match. Holy shit...

Locking the last of the criminals inside a small and cramped cell, Brooklyn whirled to face
him, yet she didn't seem as angry as she had before.

Whatever she was going to say to him had to wait as they heard the police sirens heading
their way, and by the time the full moon was high in the sky, the two had perched on an
adjacent building, watching the police scratch their heads at the full prison cells before them
and the missing weapons from the scene.

Masks and helmet off, the two let the night breeze cool their skin for a while, then the Stark
reached into an opening of her suit that had a small first aid kit. Jason considered
complaining when she'd started bandaging his swollen and bleeding right fist visible through
his broken glove, but she looked equally as displeased at doing so that he let it slide.

Funny, Jason could've sworn she was bandaging it the way Alfred always did with their
injuries. Loosely but functional, with a little bow-like knot at the end. But it would be
impossible for her to know that. It was then, as the last of the bandaging was to be finished,
that the Stark said as if she were annoyedly looking for a topic to break the silence, "Your
fighting style...most of those moves are from the League. I'm familiar enough with them that
you can't deny it"

Jason was still looking at his hand that was being wrapped under the bright light of the large
advertisement behind them as he replied with a smirk, "Smart girl. If you must know, I was
there for a while, trained with its leader Talia before I realized it was a waste of my fucking
time and left"

Of course she'd be familiar with League moves, she was around Damian too often. In fact,
Jason didn't mention it, but some of her own fighting had hints and whispers of League style
moves too. He wondered if she'd even realized it.

"I didn't realize training with the League was a requirement to be Batman's sidekick"

Jason clenched and unclenched his freshly bandaged hand, testing the placement of the
wrappings as he complained, "First of all, I'm not a sidekick. Secondly, it's not a requirement,
but most of us ended up with the League for one reason or another, I suppose. Some fucked
up joke of the universe"

The girl nodded, eyes on the bright moon before them as he added, "But I suppose...for a Red
Room member, you're a decent fighter"

"Is that a compliment from a Wayne? My ears must be faulty"

He chuckled, "My brother has seriously never commented on your skills?"

It took half a heartbeat to realize he hadn't called Damian a demon spawn or some insult of
like normal. He'd called him brother in front of a relative stranger, and hadn't done so with a
mocking bite in his words...

He must be tired as shit.

Brooklyn didn't seem to note the slip up, that or she didn't much care for his family drama.
Instead, she only leaned back on her arms and said, "Damian and I are enemies, how could
one of us compliment the another?"

Jason wasn't a master decipherer of people's feelings, that was a title reserved for Steph, but
even with his limited knowledge he caught her dodge of the question. He already knew
Brooklyn and Damian had some sort of alliance, or perhaps friendship, going on. He'd seen
them together at a school dance, had seen her bring Damian back home safely, had even
witnessed them fighting crime together and reciting crappy Shakespeare dialogue with ease.

He'd been half joking when asking his question, knowing Damian wasn't one for handing out
praise to anyone. But her dodge, it meant the little demon truly had congratulated her at some
point, that he had a level of civility with her no one else would likely witness. A part of him
understood why that might be. Miss Stark was strong and ruthless, fake-mutant abilities
aside. But she also cared about life, even that of an enemy. Like when she spared the Joker's
lackeys lives, or when she kept an eye out for his own well being during the fight despite his
last name.

Maybe she would be good for Damian to keep around. Hell, Jason could even see himself not
referring to her mentally as an enemy from now on.

"Well, by definition we're enemies too, but we have been civil with one another tonight,"
Jason replied to the earlier question, "Maybe not all Waynes and Starks have to try and rip the
other's heads off all the time. We sure proved good can come out of such alliances down
there"

Brooklyn went wide eyed, staring at him as if she were waiting for a joke's punchline. When
she found none, she eased a bit and said a little too casually, "So what? Want to be my friend
or something?"

"I have no friends," Jason said without hesitation, "No one wants to deal with me or my
baggage, rightfully so I'd say, and I don't much care for anyone seeing it"
Brooklyn Stark went silent for a moment, then said, "I used to think the same, but I've found
the right people can make someone change for the better. It does no one any good to be alone,
or as moody as your father"

Recalling her internship, Jason found himself giving a bit of advice without much thought, "If
Bruce ever gives you a hard time at work, just ignore him, he despises that more than
anything. But if it makes you feel better, Alfred yelled at Bruce for an hour after you left the
manor during your little visit. For us Waynes, thats like getting the death penalty"

Jason actually earned a chuckle from the girl at that, as well as a faint, "I'll keep it in mind"

Leaning back to stare at the night sky, Jason didn't even question his next words as he said,
"Oh, and one more thing. You can make Bruce's life hell, but at least make sure to keep
Damian alive, we need him to balance out Dick's good vibes in the house"

Defending Damian, helping Damian...this truly was the end of times for Jason. Maybe pigs
would start flying alongside Kryptonians next, hell might freeze over, and the Earth would
decide spinning was far too exhausting a chore to keep up with.

The Stark too seemed surprised at the words, and though she looked determined enough to
keep that promise, she only said, "Perhaps I will"

"My brother is an ass, but perhaps it's not so bad that you two work together, since you can be
an ass as well," Jason said, smiling as he felt the girl's first make contact with his muscled
shoulder. Not a real attack, he realized, but just friendly bantering he'd do with his siblings.

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

Jason glanced down at her brown eyes he could make out thanks to the light behind them as
he added, "I'm serious, Damian doesn't work with just anyone. I don't know if I should
congratulate you or pity you. Both would be apropriate actually,"

Brooklyn rolled her eyes again.

"Rest assured, I don't have plans to kill your brother, even if your father doesn't believe me.
We're an efficient team, I can look past my hatred for the good of the world"

He sat there for a second, unable to believe their luck. By some miracle enacted by gods Jay
didn't bother praying to no matter what Diana or Arthur spouted about, Damian Wayne had
actually found someone who could not only tolerate him, but lie for him. Though there had
been a little bit of doubt before hand about just how far Brooklyn could care for their demon
spawn, Jason had read enough books to know perhaps their hatred no longer existed. That
maybe Jay and his siblings weren't just trying to help Damian with his little crush, but
perhaps Stark needed a bit of help herself.

"Well, since looking past hatred is something you're good at, we should pair up more often,"
Jason actually found himself suggesting, and meaning it too, "Maybe you're right, maybe I
could use a few friends, but that doesn't mean I'm going to choose the easiest options. It's not
who I am, too boring for my tastes. So what do you say Stark? Wanna make history and
become my first friend?"

Brooklyn, who'd been leaning back on her elbows, almost fell backwards onto the roof of the
building at the words.

Wide eyed, the Stark inquired, "Won't your father kill you for that? Willingly being friends
with someone like me has to be considered a crime, no?"

If the word friends sounded weird on her tongue, she had no idea how odd it was for Jason to
actually agree to have a close acquaintance nowadays. He'd had friends before, but that was a
long time ago before he decided to cut everyone off for their safety and his sanity. Yet she
truly wasn't the worst company all things considered. Stark listened, was willing to bite back
comments to rival his own, hated Bruce, and had her own past with the killing and the
assassin days in common with him.

Though he often considered himself no one's son, he was legally a Wayne (even if the world
thought Jason Wayne was long dead, funeral and all). Yes, his hatred for Bruce was almost a
tangible force...but the only reason he carried the Wayne name and bothered to stay in the
manor was because of his siblings, Alfred, and Selina. Even the newcomer Duke was already
close knit to their little group. They'd caught the boy up on the secret mission of theirs, and
despite Bruce's warnings about the Starks, Duke still saw Brooklyn as a celebrity he admired.
Something about her working on a foundation for orphanages.

But Brooklyn was asking if he was willing to face Bruce's wrath just to be friends. The
answer was simple enough.

Gently hitting her arm with one of his unloaded guns, Jason said with a smirk, "If something
bothers my dear ol' dad, it only makes me want to do it all the more, Miss Stark"

She stared at him for a few seconds, trying to wage if he was lying, teasing, plotting. But
Jason, for once in his life, was being completely genuine. So he stared right back with every
intention of letting her see the raw honesty behind his blue eyes.

Seconds later, the girl moved to sit up, staring up at the moon as she whispered, "You're a
menace..."

"The original," Jason replied proudly. The he took off one of his leather gloves, stretched out
a hand under the light of the advertisement board behind them. He let the bare hand linger
between them as he offered, "So what do you say, Stark? Willing to create the first ever
friendship-truce between a Stark and Wayne?"

She stared at his hand, fisting her metal mask nervously. He briefly wondered if after seeing
all he was, Brooklyn Stark was not willing to be friends with someone so messed up and had
just been teasing along for the sake of quelling her boredom all this time. It would be a little
ego degrading if she found Damian worthy of a friendship and not him, but all those doubts
silenced themselves as she took his hand into her own, and shook it once. Both of them were
likely nothing more than dark shadows before the light of the billboard behind them, nothing
more than two figures shaking hands atop a building rather than two families making peace.
"Don't make me regret it, Wayne" she said simply, to which Jason found himself smiling at.
He'd see to it that she wouldn't for more than Damian's sake.

Hours later, back at the manor, Jason was almost smug to have a secret friend no one knew
about. Though it would likely give Bruce an aneurysm if he found out Jason befriended a
Stark, specifically his second most hated Stark...Jay said nothing of it. He went about the rest
of his night debating if he should tell his siblings he was friends with the girl, because if they
ever truly became better friends, he might even try to convince her to let Spider-man go and
choose Damian instead as was their plan.

What Jason didn't know is that Brooklyn had been surprised by his company as well. That
despite his killing tendencies, she appreciated that he was brutally honest and perhaps even a
little funny from time to time. She wanted there to at least another Wayne that wouldn't hate
her, so that she could try for peace the way Damian had with Yelena and Harley. It was part
of their secret mission to bridge the gap between their families in hopes of unlikely change, a
plan she was one step closer to achieving after tonight's unexpected events.

So as two in the morning rolled around, Jason sat quietly beside Tim in the Batcave while his
brother was doing a bit of tracking down of supplies Scarecrow might need to make his gases
and such. Too focused on his work, Jason didn't bother to explain what had occurred today.
He kept his little 'Animal Planet Documentary' to himself, and when Bruce rushed down to
the cave hours later demanding why Jason had gone to Queens tonight (stupid tracker), he
merely mentioned wanting a midnight snack away from home.

"In Queens? You killed two people," Bruce added, pulling up a screen with Red Hood on the
cover of a police report, standing before the messy building with guns in hand.

"Actually, I killed three. But they had alien weapons and someone was in danger, what else
was I supposed to do?" Jason explained, pointing to the far table where half of the alien loot
was, the other half had been taken by his new friend for her own investigating.

At the following silence, Jason dismissed his 'father' entirely to go take a much needed nap.
Timmy didn't even bat an eyelash at his being in Queens, but maybe he was in his coffee
coma by now. Surely there might be some questions by breakfast, to which Jason would lie
and say he was spying on Spider-man to figure out how to murder him.

Once in bed, Jason realized he truly hadn't been kidding when he said he needed friends. He
was hanging around the manor too often these days, more so than his own flat, only speaking
with criminals and his family all day. So...perhaps this would be healthy for him, even if his
only friend outside of his family ended up being a Stark of all people.

He didn't exactly feel guilt keeping that secret, not when Damian was keeping some of his
own about the Stark as well.

Still, word of his nightly escapade in Queens was the talk of the manor the next day, to which
his siblings suggested they wanted to do a little investigating of their own of the enemy to
their plans. He could've told the truth, that he'd briefly observed Spider-man and saw nothing
but a teen stacking legos with his friend. But how could he not join in on that kind fun?
Brooklyn POV-

At school the next day, Brooklyn hid her phone under the desk, texting Dami who as seated
on the desk beside her. The two hadn't been able to be alone all day, but Brook knew she had
to share the news with him of what happened last night. As much as she truly didn't mind
trying out a friendship with Jason Todd of all people, she knew he and Damian didn't have
the best of relationships. Out of all his siblings, Jason was the one Damian liked the least.

But this was a step towards peace between their families, and seeing as Brooklyn didn't see
her and Damian calling their thing quits anytime soon, it was something short of a miracle
that such a friendship had been forged. Besides, from what Damian had told her of Jason, he
hated their dad more than anything, had certainly made that clear last night too. If there was
anyone who could one day be trusted to keep the secret from Bruce of her and Damian's
friendship (and perhaps later on keep the secret of them dating), it would be Jason.

In assassin code, Brooklyn texted under their protected private chat;

I stumbled upon your brother last night. Jason.

Damian briefly looked up form his phone after reading the message, and it occurred to
Brooklyn that he was looking to see if she was injured, or at least as much as he could thanks
to the layers of her winter clothes.

I can't believe you had to deal with him. Are you alright, my beloved?, he replied back.

Brooklyn considered her answer, because she knew that with all they had going on, the last
thing she wanted was for Damian to worry. But they never kept secrets from one another, that
was not the way their relationship worked.

Though hesitantly, Brooklyn texted back, He wasn't that bad.

Brook didn't dare look Dami's way when she heard his leg hit the desk. Thankfully, their
history teacher continued on with his lesson on HYDRA's involvement through the years, a
topic Brooklyn was glad not to pay attention to seeing as some of that involvement secretly
involved her.

You can't be serious, was Damian's reply.

As quickly as her fingers could type, she explained, Good news is that someone aside from
your pets and Alfred doesn't hate me now. He's agreed to try and be civil to me, and before
you get angry or worried, I think this might be worth trying out.

It was minutes later, in which Damian had likely processed everything, that he asked, You did
this for me didn't you? For us?

Of course she had. The last time she'd been to Damian's house, she got into a big food fight
with his family, those he holds most dear. Though throwing a lobster at Bruce Wayne's face
had been the highlight of her year, it was not the kind of impression she'd wanted to make.
Brook was dead serious in her promise to try and make things better between the Starks and
Waynes, to try and close that gap between them for the sake of peace.

She dreaded the day they might be forced to choose between their something more or their
families, wanted to try and do her part in preventing that possible tragedy. Helping Barbara
Wayne had felt like a secret good start, saving Damian's siblings when the unfortunate
circumstances came about was too. It was baby steps towards that unlikely future of peace.

Not just for you or us, Brooklyn clarified, You're right in saying Jason is a little off, but I
think he just seems lonely. I know what that feels like. Maybe he'll be less kill-prone if he has
a friend.

Kill-prone?, Damian replied almost instantly, I don't like it, but fine...of course you managed
to befriend the sibling I hate the most. Just know that if he hurts or betrays you, I will kill
him.

Brook had to stifle a laugh at his clear displeasure, but it was good that he understood that
perhaps this wasn't as bad as he thought. That he could see the good that could come out of it.
Besides, there were other reasons for her bringing this up...

As much as I aim to please, I have to say, your brother does care about you. He asked me not
to kill you, made me promise to keep you safe while in Queens.

Mr. Travis was stopped mid-lecture when the bell rang, and all students happily piled out of
the classroom despite the threat of a pop quiz tomorrow.

Walking a respectable distance away despite their same destination of gym class, Brooklyn
looked down to read Damian's next text, You are full of surprises beloved, and regardless of
who you chose to befriend...I suppose I should commend you on the effort to make peace with
my family. It's appreciated.

She hoped Damian understood how much she appreciated his efforts as well, not just by
putting up with her otets during the internship, but for keeping an eye out for Yelena during
fights, or bothering to nod Harley's way when he came to their table at lunch time. She wasn't
the only one attempting the impossible for their sake.

What if your dad kills Jason for being my new friend?, she asked.

Damian's response didn't come until they were in the gym, running laps with Peter, Ned, and
MJ. Finally able to be seen together without questions or suspicions from their classmates.

Running by her side, Damian whispered, "If my father kills Jason, then I'll thank you all the
more"

Despite everything, she burst out laughing, had to cover her mouth when people passed by to
hide her amusement. But this was the start of something good, the beginning of a possible
future in which she and Damian would not be condemned for what they felt.

One Wayne sibling down...six more to go.

 Itsy Bitsy Spider
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Peter Parker POV-

Taking a break from analyzing all the files they'd stolen from LexCorp, Peter decided to
spend his Saturday evening getting various things done aside from...well, crimes to stop
crimes.

His first stop was the Queen's Hospital to drop off some breakfast for Aunt May, who'd taken
a night shift yesterday. She'd welcomed him with open arms, showering Peter with a series of
embarrassing cheek kisses before finally admitting she had to get back to work.

Once back out on the streets, Peter did his best to wipe all the lipstick off his skin while
reading the new edition of one of his favorite comics. Brooklyn had been kind enough to
drop it off last night, knowing he'd been taking on more patrols than usual to cover for them.

She honestly didn't have to go out of her way to thank him, not when she must've been
exhausted herself. Even when it was the weekend, his friend had gone to bed at an ungodly
hour and woken up earlier than the sun to help Yelena move into the apartment down the hall.

Yelena moving into their apartment complex was not a surprise, but it was a welcome move.
It had taken some convincing towards Mr. Stark to let another of his children move out of the
Compound, but he must've relented knowing Brooklyn and Yelena would be safer living
close to one another, especially in light of recent events.

Mr. Stark had still summoned Peter to his office yesterday, asking him to keep a look out for
his little girls. To make sure they were safe not just during school or patrols, but at home as
well.

Peter agreed instantly, but refrained from telling Mr. Stark that Yelena was dating a half-
kryptonian, she was as safe as could be with him around. Pete knew if he'd mentioned that,
there was a chance Mr. Stark would've never allowed Yelena to move into a flat of her own,
so he agreed to protect both of his friends even though he would've done so regardless.

As much as he tried not to think about it, these were dangerous times. Having Brook, Peter,
and Yelena living in the same place was probably a good thing, not just for easier ways to get
their work done, but to make sure they were all doing alright.

Peter had offered his help to Yelena this morning, but the girl insisted her move in would
consist of many assassin-instinct-like modifications that perhaps someone like Peter should
not see. He understood their need for privacy, to let Yelena make her space feel safe, so he
left promising to bring some food from Delmar's in the afternoon to celebrate.
Ned would also to stop by later today anyways to make sure the SHIELD agents had installed
security properly (per Brook's request). Peter would have to make sure to bring Ned's favorite
chips then...

Since Peter was not able to help Yelena and Brook with moving in, he volunteered to take
over their patrol hours for the afternoon (and Jon would take the night patrols as an excuse to
visit Yelena at her new home later), but before that...Peter was feeling a little hungry himself.

Though he'd eventually have to come back, Pete stopped by Delmar's for his usual meal. Mr.
Delmar and Murph the cat had greeted Peter with the same kindness as always, and once he'd
gotten his food and promised to say hi to his friends (who were now regulars as well), the
teen took a seat on a bench outside to enjoy his meal.

Only...his usual moment of calm was disturbed by the constant feeling that something was
wrong. His senses, the superhuman ones, were like a sudden pulsing in his head, warning of
danger nearby. No matter how much Peter looked around, he couldn't see a single thing that
had triggered them.

Everything was peaceful today, even the sun was out for once on this late-winter afternoon.

He tried to convince himself that the hairs standing upright on his arms were due to the cold,
but he knew well when his senses came alive, such an instinct was never wrong.

Regardless, Peter tried to enjoy his delicious sandwich, feeling almost as if he were being
watched.

Eventually, enough was enough, so he threw away his empty food tray and rushed down the
street towards a lonely alley. Behind a trashcan, Peter made quick work of shedding his warm
clothes and changing into the suit that fit loosely at first, and with the press of a button, now
clung against his skin.

Mr. Stark was seriously the best.

After webbing his backpack out of reach of thieves and out of sight, Peter released a few
webs towards the adjacent building, and launched himself into the sky. On and on he went
looking for whatever danger his instincts warned him of, but found nothing pressing or out of
the normal.

His patrols were actually quite simple today.

He helped an old lady cross the street, feed a stray dog some water from a human water
fountain, nothing deadly. After it was clear Queens was in a state of peace for the day, Spider-
man went into a nearby store to buy seeds he could leave on his window for the birds flying
by, plus some Hot Pockets for Brooklyn since she mentioned she was craving some after
Ned's movie night snack contribution last week.

He'd drop them off later with the food of course.

In many ways, Peter never took for granted what it was like to have money to spare, to not be
living on the edge of ever check from Aunt May.

The rent in the apartment was not cheap by any means, took up most of his monthly SHIELD
earnings, if not all of them. But it was worth it. Now that May knew he was Spider-man...if
anyone else were to find out, her safety would be affected. This way at least May was as safe
as could be, living in the best apartment complex in Queens...the best Peter could offer her
after all those years or her taking care of him.

Though he used most of his SHIELD check to pay bills and rent, often times he still had
enough cash to treat his friends or even buy a trinket or two for himself.

After buying Damian his birthday present last week, a book on forgotten martial arts
techniques (which would be gifted soon for a belated celebration), Peter was a little surprised
he still had quite a bit to spare. It would serve him well for all the upcoming birthdays this
month.

It was honestly quite ironic that most of the Dynasty shared birthdays on the month of March.
First was Damian's, then Jon's next Sunday (for which a proper party had actually been
planned considering he actually liked them). In a week from then it would be Harry's day,
then Peter's, Tanya's and Yelena's by the end of the week. Ned and Brooklyn were the
youngest amongst them, and shared the last days of the month for their own birthdays.

MJ was the only one who had a birthday in June, which Peter totally did not know already
ahead of the birthday discussion last month. Peter wasn't sure if it was creepy or good that he
had bought MJ's birthday since January, way before everyone else's gift.

He still recalled the slight sadness he felt in selling three of his limited edition action figures
just to get the money to afford said gift, Peter just hoped he had the courage and strength to
give her the gift when the day came.

Pete was sure his limited edition vintage He-man and Thundercats action figures would not
mind the sacrifice.

Just as his patrols were about to end on a peaceful note, his nagging instincts of danger
suddenly increased, and it was thanks to them that Peter was able to dodge a person's body as
he swung along a building. Though the move had been quick but awkward, Peter was still
able to land on his feet along an alley, looking up where a figure in black was hanging on the
side of a building.

The person, whoever they were, had their face covered, not allowing Peter to even discern the
eye color or gender of his attacker. The person was muscled, maybe as tall as him, carrying
nothing but the grappling hook that kept gravity from taking them down...and a few very
sharp daggers.

This didn't look like one of the Joker's usual guys, but Peter had almost been beheaded by a
dagger, so he crouched down on the floor, ready to attack if need be.
Still, in case they were friendly, he asked, "Hey? Is everything alright? Do you need help
getting down?"

The person did not answer. Peter's instincts were going haywire, heightening his sense of
hearing as the individual pulled out a double edged blade unlike anything he'd ever seen.

He kinda wanted it, it looked super cool. But asking someone who was trying to kill him to
hand over their weapon for Peter to lamely hang on his mundane bedroom wall seemed like
the wrong thing to ask.

As soon as the person landed a few feet away, crouched and ready to attack, Peter recalled all
the training he'd done with the team. He was a distance fighter, and in this short alley, his
chances were not looking good, even when Damian and Ms Natasha had both taught him
how to deal deadly blows.

Peter did not want to kill or seriously injure, he wanted to apprehend or scare away.

With distance in mind, Spider-man quickly shot out a pair of webs to the person's feet,
pulling at the synthetic webbing to trip his opponent. Though the textile strength of his webs
was enough to help Peter swing though buildings and hold a ship split in two, the mystery
villain cut through it with their weapon easily.

Ok...

"Look man, I don't know who you are but we don't need to fight" Peter said, letting his A.I.,
KAREN, distort his voice deeper, "Why don't we go grab a burger or something? Talk it out"

The villain stopped, though still remained in that fighting stance, as if ready to attack any
second. For a heartbeat, Peter thought this was all just a misunderstanding, in fact, he was
actually kind of embarrassed that he might've scared the intruder with his artificial deep
voice.

Only the person did not remove the mask atop his or her head, just jumped and climbed their
way up the wall and vanished too quickly for Peter to even think about following.

So Spider-man stood there for a few seconds, wondering what that had been about. Luckily,
with the absence of the mysterious person, the feeling of dread vanished.

Maybe his senses were just on edge because of all the scary stories Damian had mentioned
about Scarecrow on call last night. Yeah, that had to be it. All this waiting for their enemies
to attack just felt like waiting for a big bomb about to drop.

Well, at least he could make his way home now, maybe Lena and Brook would want to see a
movie afterwards if they were done moving in!

Stephanie Brown (Wayne POV)-

Up on a desolate rooftop in Queens, Cass landed beside Steph swiftly, taking off her black
mask only to reveal a look of complete astonishment. A look the usually calm Cassandra did
not often display.

"So? Did you kill the threat to our brother's happiness?" Steph joked, but noticed the lack of
blood on Cass' weapons, "Don't tell me Spider-man managed to outfight you, because thats
not possible"

Cass shook her head, black shoulder-length hair swirling with the motion.

She looked to everyone gathered in the roof. To Dick and Barbara who were busy texting
excuses to dad for their absence. Towards Jason and Tim who looked about ready to give
'killing' Spider-man a try if they were granted such a request. Duke at least seemed to be
happy about the lack of blood, he WAS the one wearing a Spider-man hoodie after all.

Duke approved of achieving Damian's happiness, he just wasn't keen to see his hero
destroyed...even when he found out not long ago that his hero was a nerdy teenager.

Cass looked like she was on the verge of a crisis, but at least her winged eyeliner was still
intact. Not that it was very important, but Steph had spent quite some time getting it right for
her sister to look fabulous while destroying Spider-man's hopes of being with the girl Damian
deeply cared about but would never admit to it because he was raised by emotionally
deprived idiots like Ra's, Bruce, and Talia....again, not that it mattered.

"He was on the defensive" Cass mentioned, leaning back on a dusty air ventilator, "Then he
offered me food and peace"

The Waynes were speechless...and Steph was already plotting of a way to somehow work a
miracle to make Damian more adorable than Peter Parker, even if that was clearly close to
impossible.

Spider-man truly was a strange sort of hero, had a curious kind on innocence for a guy who
could lift cars and keep up with Avengers. Perhaps that is why Brooklyn Stark was dating
him, he was a happy thing in a world full of darkness.

Interrupting her thoughts, Cassandra added, "He's a fair fighter, but we can take him down if
need be. He won't even try to give a killing blow"

Stephanie blew the loose blonde strands of hair out of her face in frustration, especially when
Dicky added, "I literally just saw that kid help an old lady cross the street, I'm not sure I have
it in me to hurt him"

She couldn't help but nod in agreement, neither could her siblings.

Their stalking of the teenage boy today had only led to more uncertainties on what to do
about him. He was just such a nice guy, she almost felt the need to yell at Tim for not being
THAT sweet to her.
It was Jason, who was now casually reading a stray newspaper (backwards by the way) that
pointed out lazily, "So what if we can't kill the spider boy, maybe we just have to scare him
off"

Tim huffed annoyedly, "This is serious, that kid makes Damian look like the cruelest of ogres
on his good days. If this is the standard Miss Stark has for a partner, then we have a lot of
work to do"

Jason chuckled.

"Hey, at least she's not dating Kent Jr, that would've been a pain to deal with. We can find a
way to deal with the Itsy Bitsy Spider "

Barbara inched forward, careful of her leg braces catching on any of the loose pipes around
them, then hit Jay in the head with a hydro flask.

"We just tried the intimidation thing, and that boy invited Cass to a cute little truce, didn't you
see?!" Babs exclaimed, looking like she was seconds away from pulling at her red hair as if
that would make a difference.

Scaring Parker would clearly not work...but perhaps they could do as he'd tried to do with
Cass. Maybe the true way to get to Peter Parker would be to just, well, talk to him once of
twice.

This would probably not end well, half of the plans she and her siblings came up with never
did unless it was for their 'night job'. Still, with a final kiss to Tim's cheek and a teasing
warning to her siblings to watch and learn, she made her way back down the building
towards her parked green Ferrari.

She made sure to park it a little ways ahead from the street Peter Parker was innocently
passing by, he was far too distracted helping a store owner gather fallen fruit to notice
anyways.

Before heading out of the car, Stephanie checked her appearance by instinct, noting that
despite the constant jumping between buildings today, her blonde curls had remained intact
as did her makeup.

For just a second, she almost laughed at her reflection.

She looked every inch a Wayne. Pristine. Elegant. Effortlessly perfect.

There had been a time when she'd looked nothing like this, when she'd worn cheap shoes like
Parker, when her clothes were not designer but just used things she could find or afford.

When she was much younger, Steph had looked in a mirror and seen nothing but a broken
child covered in bruises. Steph had been nothing but a girl who had a father who loved to hit
her, lock her up in a closet with her mother on his worst days. Granted, her mother had not
been much better, she'd been irony personified, a nurse with an addiction to pain killers.
Now here she was, dressed in an impeccable white ensemble likely worth more than Parker's
rent. She was a vigilante with a purpose, daughter to better parents, a sister to many siblings
she cared for deeply.

Her little brother Damian was a menace, could be a demon from hell when he wished, but he
was family. He'd never hit her, always protected her in battle, and recently...had even deigned
to try and be more civil.

Damian was family, a part of Stephanie's second chance at a better life, part of this amazing
new journey that despite not being easy at times, did not involve living with a high-as-a-kite
Crystal Brown or the villain Cluemaster as a father.

They were both dead anyways...there was no use thinking back on them now or ever again.

This new life was like a reward for all her years of suffering, it was a blessed gift Steph tried
to never take for granted. So she laughed freely every day, enjoyed scheming with her
siblings, joked about baby names with Momma Selina, put her all when fighting alongside
'Batdad', and was grateful for all the love and affection Tim reminded Steph she was worthy
of every day.

Yeah, she was happy as could be, it was time for another Wayne get a way paved for his own
happy ending...

After reapplying her rose lipstick, she confidently exited the car, Judith Leiber purse in hand.

It was once out of the car that she 'accidentally' bumped into Peter Parker thanks to the gaze
she kept on her phone. He was strong as a pillar, because the force of her movement did not
knock him back at all, the only one who stumbled was Steph.

In a very hero-like manner, Parker did not get angry at her aloofness, merely steadied her
before saying, "Oh, I'm so sorry!" even though it was clearly her own fault.

Looking down at the boy, Stephanie made sure to smile widely, then reached down for his
fallen plastic bags. Handing them back to him, she replied "Oh, no worries! It was all on me,
I reaching for my stupid phone. Did I destroy any of your groceries? I can pay for new ones"

Peter must've noticed the expensiveness of her outfit and accessories or gawked at the elegant
car parked behind them, like every other person in the block had. Despite that, he didn't
demand money like a smart person would do, then again, he didn't exactly seem like the
'taking advantage' kind of guy.

The sweet brown haired boy replied shyly, "Its just frozen Hot Pockets, seeds, and the rest are
sandwiches! No harm done, miss!"

At that Steph smiled, forcing herself to not seem knowledgable when she 'assumed', "Its
freezing outside and you came for Hot Pockets? Your girlfriend is a lucky lady if you're
running around getting her food"
At that, the adorable teen blushed, but before he could reply and likely end their simple
conversation between strangers, Steph reached out a white gloved hand and said, "My, where
are my manners?! My name is Stephanie!"

Peter Parker shook her hand, clearly trying to be very careful, or perhaps he was just shy.
Shuffling with the straps of his backpack, the boy replied, "I'm...sorry, I'm clumsy"

At that, Steph chuckled a little louder than she intended.

"Well, hello clumsy"

The boy panicked easily, shaking his hands and head as he clarified, "I mean, my name is
Parker, um Peter Parker"

Steph made a show of having a lightbulb go off in her head, and though it was a risk stating
her true name, it was worth it for this little mission of hers.

"Peter Parker! I recognize that name, you go to Midtown right?" Stephanie said, and upon
seeing his confused expression, she clarified, "You must know my little brother Damian, he
talks about you sometimes"

Well, Damian didn't really talk about anyone...but he had mentioned Parker once a long time
ago so technically she wasn't lying!

Despite the teen clearly having made the Wayne connection, he did not seem afraid or angry
that Steph was a member of his girlfriend's enemy family. Maybe that meant he and Brooklyn
were not that serious?

Or maybe Steph was full of wishful thinking...

Though the two had seen one another in costume back at Bermuda and briefly out of it at
some point or another, they were both still strangers. Well, strangers who knew one another's
secret identity that was.

Leaning closer, Steph whispered excitedly, "I can't believe I'm meeting Damian's little friend,
the famous...you know" then proceeded to make little motions with her hands, mocking the
way Spider-man shoots his webs.

Parker's doe eyes widened at that, and as his cheeks blushed, he clarified almost somberly, "I
don't think Damian would ever call me a friend"

Well, that wasn't much of a surprise.

Ignoring the people walking past them in the sidewalk, Stephanie chuckled at his words,
putting her shades in her purse as she offhandedly replied, "He hardly calls me his sister,
don't take it personally. My brother is not one for that kind of normalcy"

Knowing full well there is nothing Parker would do about it, she took hold of his arm,
looping it with her own so that they could set a steady pace down the street as if they had
been friends all their lives.
Her siblings were likely following along the rooftops anyways.

As expected, the teen had no idea what to do but keep up, but taking pity on his confusion,
Steph casually mentioned, "I'm actually looking for my little brother. Do you known where
he might be?"

It was a lie really. Steph knew full well Damian had mentioned having to spend the day at
Midtown on this fine Saturday evening. Little D had a bad habit of never explaining why he
was going places, likely didn't think any of them worthy of knowing what he was up to,
which is why it surprised her when Peter exclaimed, "He's at school with Jon for an important
football practice. Want me to call Damian?"

Steph almost fumbled in her steps, but kept her graceful aura intact thanks to her yoga,
gymnastics, and running track days.

"You actually have his number? Damian allowed that?" she asked, unable to keep the surprise
from her voice.

Parker motioned shyly at his ancient phone with a cracked screen as he replied, "Um, yes
Miss Wayne"

Miss Wayne!? Seriously, Steph just wanted to squeeze this teen's rosy little cheeks with how
adorable he was!

But what overpowered that instinct was her shock that Damian had trusted someone with his
phone number. That idiot probably didn't have more than ten numbers for contacts, and most
of them were either family numbers or emergency numbers from Justice League...or so she
had thought.

She'd thought Jon's was the only number on Damian's phone that was actually 'personal' up
until now. Which meant that in some way or another, her little brother must trust this Parker
kid a great deal.

Interesting.

"Never mind calling that twat, care to show me where his school is? I've rarely been to
Queens before"

The teen did not seem annoyed by the stray of his previous path, likely back home. If
anything, he looked happy to be of help.

Before they got too far, Steph turned back to close the doors of her car with the click of a
remote. Then, they were on their way down the somewhat clean streets of Queens towards a
school Peter had promised was not too far away.

Of course Steph knew that, she'd been there before to spy once or twice. Such fond
memories....

Seeing as Parker was too shy to start a conversation, Stephanie took the liberty of saying, "By
the way, congrats on the..." then leaned in to whisper, "the hero gig. You kids are doing good
work in this city, plus you look fabulous in your suits!"

Peter smiled bashfully.

"Thank you, Miss Wayne. It means a lot coming from Spoiler, I'm a huge fan!"

Ah, hating this kid was getting harder by the second...

"Oh, you sweet kid! Just call me Stephanie. You will find that no one in my family wants to
be called anything with the word Wayne in it, save for Damian of course" she replied almost
teasingly, despite the small bit of truth in that statement.

For the duration of their walk, Peter seemed to struggle with the name thing, but by the time
they waked through the gates of the school, he'd at least become more relaxed around her.

Unfortunately that bit of peace ended far too quickly once they reached the vast football field,
at which point Damian (who had clearly been sitting down on the bleachers with his nose in a
book while Jon practiced) spotted them and all but rushed at them, stomping angrily with his
green coat flapping behind him.

Holy shit...he was scary as hell.

Steph felt Peter flinch at the sight, couldn't really blame him for being afraid. But the instinct
to protect little Parker was surprisingly there. So much for killing Parker for Damian's
happiness...

Stopping a healthy distance away, Damian asked, "Whats the meaning of this?"

Before Parker could stutter a response, Steph happily said, "Your little friend was just
showing me the way here. I came to pick you guys up!"

Damian rolled his eyes, looking suspiciously her way while asking with a flat voice, "Why?"

Though being around an angry Damian was a dangerous thing, Steph still replied steadily,
pretending to be rather offended by his question, "Can't I, as your big sister, do something
nice as to drive you home? I know that Stark internship must be running you ragged, so I
though to do something nice and you question my intentions?"

Unfortunately for her, Damian didn't buy that for a second.

"You're full of shit, Brown" still glaring, he turned to Peter and said, " Michelle is in the
library, you no longer have to suffer under Brown's company. You're dismissed"

Maybe sharing schools and occasional hero patrols made Parker more used to the glowers
sent his way, because he merely smiled and said to both Waynes, "It wasn't a bother at all!
Nice to meet you Miss- I mean, Stephanie. See you later Damian!"

With that, the spider kid left the two alone, leaving with a skip in his step as he headed
towards the library. As she saw him retreat, Stephanie almost hated that they'd have to get rid
of him if he didn't stop dating the Stark.
She'd have to find a way to talk to him again, maybe drop a few hints this time now that they
were acquainted. During their walk, Steph had learned that teen had a heart of gold, was a
nerd to the core, and was more adorable that a stuffed animal.

Peter was a good kid, but Damian's happiness came first, even if he WAS an asshole that was
currently glaring holes into her head.

"That Peter kid is very kind, must be why that girl likes him" Stephanie said, looking past the
boys in football uniforms still playing their hearts out in the field behind Damian.

Her reason for the casual comment had been to see if Damian would react to the mention of
Brooklyn, to wage his expression, maybe witness possible jealousy from her little brother for
the first time.

But Damian merely looked annoyed at the words, almost sounding bored as he stated,
"Parker is not an annoying as he used to be, but he's still an idiot. Its no surprising he
mentioned his ridiculous emotions to a complete stranger"

Ridiculous emotions!? Is that how Damian saw this?

Her brother had a crush on a girl that was dating Peter, someone who was clearly something
akin to a friend to him (which was shocking enough), and his way of coping with that was to
convince himself Peter was an idiot?

Oh, she and her siblings had a lot of work to do...

Instead of pointing out his obvious crush on the Stark, she lazily pointed out, "C'mon! Parker
doesn't seem like much of an idiot, he's a sweet kid. He even got the Stark girl food in this
cruel weather!"

At that, Damian froze ever so slightly, but his emotions were hidden behind layers
unidentifiable by her to wage what he was truly feeling.

"He did?" Damian asked, and upon seeing Steph's nod, Damian collected himself and said,
"Of course he'd do such things for a Stark"

One might've almost missed it if they weren't paying close attention, but Stephanie almost
jumped up in glee when she noticed Damian's eye twitch.

Was that jealousy at last!? That meant Damian really did like Brooklyn Stark! Operation kill
the spider was still on then!

Again, it was such a shame that one of these days the spider boy would have to either back
out or die. Shame indeed. But Damian had just displayed an emotion never before seen,
which meant he was in deep.

Seeing as Damian would likely never be like Peter Parker...her siblings preferred methods
might be the only way to get their brother to win. But maybe there would be positive results
in trying to talk Parker out his relationship too.
 Why did Damian have to make things all the harder!

As a side effect of her little mission, Steph had to fulfill her cover and drive Jon and Damian
back home, which was odd in its own right considering Jon was very talkative and Damian
was just snapping back whenever he was involved in conversations.

It was a LONG ride, but at least Steph bit back an amused smile once or twice when she
realized she'd had to leave her siblings behind, which meant everyone was likely tightly
packed into Dick's car, heading back to Gotham uncomfortably.

Oops.

But hey....sacrifices for Damian's happiness had to be made, right?

Chapter End Notes

In light of the upcoming holidays, I decided to have a long update for you guys! It was a
lot of fun to write, especially chapter 39 which has been in my head for quite some time!

As always, I'm sorry if I can't answer every comment, but thanks to the holidays, I may
just be able to answer more comments than usual. I love to read what you guys are
thinking of!
 Sadie Hawkins Dance?

Brooklyn Stark POV-

"Why are the guys staring at me like I have the answers to today's History test?" Brook asked
as she and her friends walked into school on that particular chilly morning, books in hand.

Tanya wedged herself between Brook and Pete, swinging an arm around Brooklyn as she
laughed.

"They are probably longing for you to be their Sandy next Friday"

Brook was now accustomed to not understanding many 'pop culture' references her friends
often took to speaking between perfectly normal sentences. She was not alone in that
confusion, not when Damian had never cared about such manners and Yelena had been in the
Red Room were such things were unnecessary knowledge.

Though she had been on her own for a while and had attended school prior to Midtown,
Brooklyn had never cared to pay attention to the gossip around her, much less the modern
slang people her age loved.

The other members of their team had been very...patient in explaining things, either by
showing the origins of said odd words and references, though at times they found the
confusion slightly hilarious.

This was not the case today. Tanya was looking at her as if she were an idiot as Brook asked,
"Their what?"

Harry all but rolled his eyes, muttering from her other side, now holding onto Pete's
backpack, "You can't be serious, you're telling me you missed it again!"

At her raised brow, Harry pointed to the colorful halls brimming with students. Most stared in
awe at their arrival, but it was upon closer inspection to her surroundings that Brooklyn
became aware of posters and banners hung around the place.

One particular banner hanging above the very hall they walked under read; Don't forget to
buy your tickets for Sadies!

MJ quickly pointed out Yelena's and Damian's equally dumbfounded looks, and Brook was
secretly glad she wasn't the only one caught unaware.

"Don't tell me you have no idea!" Tanya whined, "It's Sadies soon, haven't you noticed the
posters they put up on Monday?"

Three days Brook had not noticed them, had not known of this so called Sadie Hawkins
event.
"What is it?" Yelena asked in their stead, no longer shying away from the locked hand she
and Jon shared as he carried her books.

When they reached Ned and Peter's lockers, it was the former that explained as he dug in to
his own locker for an English book, "It's a dance. I assumed you knew already"

Brooklyn hadn't, thought she was annoyed enough to let her body slam against the lockers at
her back as she groaned, "Another one!? Like the Yule dance!"

Everyone who was aware of the new dance nodded, thought Tanya seemed to be the only one
actually excited about such event. It was her that moved between Brook and Yelena,
mischievously whispering loudly to the ex-assassins, "Usually its boys ask girls whenever
there is a dance at school. But Sadies is special, in which the boys get to suffer with the
anticipation that is waiting to be asked"

With an added wink Yelena's way, Tanya said, "At least we all know who one of the Stark
sisters is going to ask" then looked towards a blushing Jon who despite his tall build and god-
like abilities, blushed nervously as he whispered to the girl who's hand he still held, "Its only
if you want to go, Lena. You don't have to get all fancy in asking me if thats what you
choose, but we had fun at the last dance so we can have fun in this one too, its much less
elegant"

Spurred by the topic, Harry pointed out, "My clueless ex-assassins, you see, Sadies is a
casual school dance that is usually themed by a certain decade. Last year we had a 1910's
theme, it was mostly Titanic decorations and fashion. The year prior we had 1920's, Gatsby
themed"

MJ was chewing on a sandwich from the coffee place they stopped by this morning, looking
bored at the passing students as she added, "The year before that I heard they had a 90s
dance, that mostly everyone came in dressed as extras from Clueless"

Brooklyn sighed, the sound of the tired and the suffering as she realized this would be yet
another public event in which she'd be watched carefully. Subtly locking eyes with Damian,
she could see the way he too was annoyed, thought the bit of calm in his expression was
likely at the memory of the first school dance they shared, something Brook was thinking
about as well.

It had been a night of secrecy, a dance shared during the first snow of the year, away from
prying eyes at a time both teens were still unaware of just how deeply their affection ran for
one another.

This time, it would be different.

Brooklyn and Damian's relationship was arguably their most guarded secret. And as the Stark
understood it, couples usually attended these kinds of celebrations together. Tanya was
already proudly stating she'd asked her girlfriend, Raven, to the dance.

Brook would be lying if she said she did not wish to spend such an event in Damian's
company. In fact, she wasn't sure she could attend with anyone else as a way to cement their
cover. She was loyal to Damian just as he was to her.

But attending such a public event together would only cause problems, especially right now
when the school's attention was on the three heirs at all times. Everyone was busy gossiping
about the internships, and though Brooklyn despised being the center of attention, there was
no avoiding it.

She was a hot topic at Midtown, going with Damian to said dance would not go unnoticed.

Damian seemed to know it too, because he suddenly began looking around them at all the
male students who looked hopefully towards Brook, likely expecting a proposal. Brooklyn
didn't even want to imagine how many proposals Damian would receive, how for the sake of
attendance, he might have to accept one just as Brooklyn would have to offer one.

They were too popular not to attend, it would start too many rumors, or so Tanya pointed out
between whispers around their group as they neared Brook's, Jon's, and Damian's lockers.

Still with vivid excitement, Tanya pointed out, "Besides, it will be fun to go! The dance is
50's themed this year!"

Sure enough, nearby hand-dawn posters signified as much.

Brooklyn kept her troubled expression hidden by her locker as she tidied up invisible flaws
inside the space, but in an attempt at truthful humor, she explained, "I don't know what the
50's were like. Can't even ask Grandpa Steve since he went in the ice in the 40's, didn't come
out till 2011. Plus, I'm sure dad wasn't born till the 70's"

Harry chuckled, placing a casual arm around Damian's shoulders, which the Wayne brushed
off immediately. Undeterred by the deadly glare now upon him, Harry exclaimed, "There is
something still so weird about Captain America being referred to as a grandfather. Besides
Brook, you're full of shit, you do do know what the 50's are like!"

At her confusion upon closing her locker, MJ lazily explained, "Weren't you the one that
modeled a Breakfast at Tiffany's dress collection? That's from the 50's"

Brook had a vague recollection of such a modeling shoot. She normally tried to not think too
much about such social chores. But she did recall the high-collared black dress, the endless
amounts of diamond jewelry, the big black shades and elegant elbow length gloves.

"The 50s were the times of poodle skirts! Think Marilyn Monroe! Elvis Presley! Diners,
Jukeboxes, Drive-In Movies, Letterman jackets and bowling shirts!" Tanya added excitedly,
as if she were already planning an outfit in mind.

Damian visibly frowned at the information, muttering annoyedly, "I'm not wearing any of
that"

Brooklyn suddenly found herself all the more curious as to what he would look like in 50's
themed clothes. Said invisible curiosity was noticed by Dami, to which he playfully glared
her way. It brought a small smile to her face, even when the reality of them not being able to
attend together was still in the back of her head.

On their walk back outside to their usual hang-out point at the parking lot beside Roscoe, MJ
casually asked Ned and Peter to be her escorts to the dance since she refused to ask a boy for
such a ridiculous tradition.

Brook, as well as the rest (save for Peter) were aware of MJ's subtle joy at Pete's acceptance.
In fact, Brooklyn hoped this dance would help the two grow closer just as the last dance had
done so for the Stark and Wayne. Her two friends deserved to be happy.

As for Harry, he complained the entire way back to Roscoe about his peculiar situation.

He had no one to take thanks to his 'Batchelor status' abuse. He'd already 'dated' every girl at
school, was certain some of them were so heartbroken by their impromptu separation that
they would likely not ask him.

Though Harry seemed to be a lot more comfortable in letting that old habit of his go now that
his relationship with his father did not need to be so strained, it seemed Brook's friend still
struggled with letting that assumption about him go.

Thanks to the school internship, many were reminded that Harry was not just a popular
sport's legend who had all the ladies on their toes. He was the heir to a large company, and
many girls already circled around him like vultures much to his own noticing. Even so, no
one seemed brave enough to ask, perhaps they really were heart broken.

"Do you think Wonder Woman would agree to go with me? Maybe Supergirl?" Harry teased,
earning a horrified look from Jon when his aunt was mentioned, and a plastic coffee cup to
the face from Damian at the mention of who he often referred to in private as something close
to an aunt. Especially lately too.

Damian had mentioned once or twice that Wonder Woman had been stopping by more often,
always asking Damian how he was fairing and taking it upon herself to train him in more
advanced amazonian techniques of fighting.

Brooklyn was glad for it, that Damian was getting along with others.

Upon settling beside Roscoe's familiar form, Tanya suddenly became very happy. Brook had
known her friend long enough to know she was brewing a plan in that bow-haired head of
hers...it was always a gamble on whether that would be a good or bad idea.

Using the police scanners last week to set up a trap that busted the remainder of the Tracksuit
Draculas to take their supply of alien weapons. Good idea.

Trying to combine all coffee flavors at the Briar Cafe to try and boost its caffeine power on
one particular late night of researching Lex Luthor. Bad idea. Yelena was leaning against her
motorcycle, looking like she might bolt at the start of the explanation of Tanya's new plan.

Yelena HAD been one of the over caffeinated victims of Tanya's last idea after all.
"So you guys know how our three rich little friends are kinda the center of attention right
now? Everyone is waiting to see them fail but still fantasize about dating them" Tanya said in
mocking casualness, to which Brooklyn groaned back, "Thanks for reminding me, T. What
does this have to do with the dance? If anything you're just confirming that none of us can
ask someone or accept an invitation without being either used or hated"

Harry and Damian stood beside Brook, leaning against Roscoe, both boys looking as close to
agreeing about the same thing as they would ever get.

"Well" Tanya added, shaking her pom poms at the three as she explained, "Maybe you three
fancy heirs can go together. The way MJ is going with the boys, like a support group. The
whole school is on your case out of jealousy, why not show a unified front from the most
cash-stacked powerful teens in the world?"

Before Brooklyn could even mention the absolute destruction that could come if her dad
found out, Yelena exclaimed, "That's actually not the worst idea...if they go together, no one
will dare to bother them. Besides, its not like Brook is going to a dance with a Wayne, she's
just a part of a group"

Yelena's subtle wink was enough for Brook to realize her sister was helping her out. She
wanted Brooklyn to enjoy herself, willing to help so that Brooklyn could go with her
significant other to a school dance the way couples should be able to.

Jon was already on board by the looks of it, previously seated beside Yelena on her
motorcycle, he stood enthusiastically and added, "I think it will be a great idea! Damian's
father might just try and find him a date like last time anyways. It might be better if he says
he already has someone to go with"

Surprisingly, it was Ned that stopped that train of thought by commenting, "Guys, we're
kinda hunting down Cobalus. Fighting crime, doing a little espionage...you know adult stuff.
Are we really going to make a big deal over this teenage problem?"

The team had been trashing plans, exchanging ideas, looking for ways in which they could
expose Lex without getting arrested themselves for all the laws they broke, but also in a way
that would be quick an undebatable so Cobalus didn't have time to plan something awful if he
knew he was going down.

It was not an easy task.

At the very least, Lex had blueprints for a suit that could kill a powerful being like Superman.
If he actually had it made...it could very well turn the tide of any battle. Though the suit was
not equipped with kryptonite, which Jon had entrusted everyone in the group to know as the
only known Kryptonian weakness...Ned suspected Lex might be trying to get his hands on
some.

Damian casually mentioned his dad had some secretly stashed for a rainy day, but aside from
that, the only other piece of kryptonite was in a research lab owned by none other than the
Fantastic Four.
It was safe, secure, but not impenetrable.

Aside from knowing all that, the team had yet to create a perfect plan to stop Cobalus and his
allies. All they could do was try and monitor the kryptonite Richard Reeds owned.

"We have to" MJ said, closing her worn copy of The Wings of the Dove before countering,
"We're the Dynasty, but we're also teens. We protect others, but we also protect each other
right? If this is something that could affect Brook, Harry, and Damian, then we need to find a
way around it. Them going together could be good, even if it got out to the press, it would
only show the three of them, despite being company enemies, are starting to make choices far
more complex than a normal teen might"

No one could argue MJ's logic, which was usually the case when the curly haired girl spoke
her brilliant mind.

Though Damian look outraged at the prospect of attending with Harry, who in turn looked
disgusted, them being in the same team had shed off some of the layers of hatred from the
past. Damian was no longer too annoyed with Harry's personality mostly because he knew
some of those traits were only to annoy Mr. Osborn. Similarly, it seemed Harry's knowledge
of Damian's unusual past and current secret identity bloomed a sense of respect that had not
been there before.

As for Brooklyn, she would not mind going with her friend and Dami. Not at all, especially
since it saved her the trouble of asking someone...and selfishly, it would keep her from seeing
girls ask Damian to the dance while being helpless against it.

Maybe thats why the three of them ended up agreeing, because they really did understand
that being united when everyone doubted their abilities for the future might be a good idea.
Or maybe it was the fact that at Damian's annoyed comments about not wanting to go to a
stupid dance, Jon had cheekily suggested he then stay behind and let Brook and Harry go
together despite the large dating rumors that would cause.

Brook was sure Titus would have it out for Jon later, but Damian grumpily agreed to attend,
much to the shock of their oblivious friends. Friends Brooklyn wondered if she should tell
their secret to more and more everyday...

Either way, it would seem Brooklyn had her escorts.

"If dad catches wind of this party, he'll ask who we're going with. Harley won't mention
anything to dad if we ask, though I suspect just mentioning you're going with Harry will be
enough keep dad calm" Yelena pointed out suddenly, "If Mr. Wayne finds out who he's going
with, then what? Bruce doesn't seem too friendly with the Osborns, much less with us Starks"

It was a good point, a troubling one.

Although...perhaps not entirely unfixable.

As if sensing her thoughts, Damian sighed, "Don't do that..."

Upon her friends' curious gazes, Brooklyn explained, "I may have a friend that can keep his
mouth shut. He can cover for Damian that day if I ask, keep his family distracted from
pondering too much about Damian's companion to the dance"

"You're not telling Jason we're going to a dance together" Damian muttered, frown in place,
"He could very well just use that for his own gain"

It was Harry who seemed all the more annoyed by said news.

"I really thought you were joking when you told us you were friends with Jason Wayne"
Harry exclaimed, "You know, up until you told us last week, I still thought he was dead! I
went to his FUNERAL when I was a kid, first time dad made me wear a tie. It's trippy that
Jason's still alive and kicking in secret. Much more that I've seen him at galas but never knew
it was him!"

Brooklyn knew for a fact Jason would find all this amusing, he did mention he found going to
the galas under fake names as a 'Wayne family friend' a bit of a hobby to annoy his dad.

Brook was sure Harry would be even more amused if he knew the amount of times Wayne
kids had met death and had come back from it, both Damian and Jason had shared a handful
of experiences she might've considered a joke or rather impossible if it were not for the fact
that impossible things happened to them every day.

But Brook knew that is she asked, Jason might joke about betraying her, but in this stage of
testing out their friendship (which mostly consisted of texting whenever they could, or him
sending articles on the Dynasty appearances with jokes that often made her laugh) he might
be willing to do her a favor.

If she asked Jason to help cover for his younger brother...just the fact that Jason and Dami
hated one another might be enough for their family to not suspect a lie.

With that, it seemed everyone was resigned to attend.

Yelena had even taken the time to ask Jon to attend with her, at which the half-kryptonian
smiled wider than ever, looking like he might shoot up into the sky with glee.

Once the bell rang, Tanya had even suggested that they keep their appearance together a
secret not only to keep Tony or Bruce from finding out sooner, but as a way to 'let the
anticipation simmer' to make a greater point.

Brooklyn was not one for dramatics, but she trusted Tanya's input when it came to social
matters something the cheerleader was much more well versed in.

Unfortunately for Brook, their talk in the morning was not the end of their worrying over
Sadies. Aside from the casual comment from Flash trying to bait her into asking him to the
dance, Tanya had decided to drag everyone to the mall after school for 'proper Sadies attire'.

The city had been quiet lately, patrols were not necessary, and they had the means to know of
trouble if need be, so they risked the self-indulged outing. A day to just be teenagers, as MJ
had put it.

They managed to get into a lonely boutique unnoticed by any passerby. In fact, they almost
had the tiny store to themselves, able to browse through the aisles which depicted clothes
from centuries past.

The owner herself did not seem to know just who walked into her store, which made it all the
easier to be there.

Peter had started their perusing by making an amusing joke that they were traveling back in
time which each decade themed aisle they passed, and in some sense it did feel like it. It was
not an unwelcome thought, not when Brook was able to have a fun day shopping with her
friends and sister.

Brooklyn had never been more glad to carry her polaroid camera everywhere she went than
in that moment.

Though they were on a mission to find 50s attire, Harry and Ned tried things on the way,
some more ridiculous than the last. Peter had an affinity for picking up mismatched items
even MJ found herself laughing at. As for Yelena and Jon, they stuck close by to one another
as Jon explained t-shirt references, or what particular outfits might've been used for.

The photos of the two of them were quite endearing, which Brook mischievously planned to
use for a birthday gift for either of the pair. Because thats what people did, gave gifts to one
another.

Damian and Brooklyn remained close by as well, glad for the cover of the high racks and
shelves that allowed them a sense of privacy to spend some time together.

While Tanya picked out options for everyone with the old lady's help that owned the store (
quite a few pairs for each since apparently the school had a tradition where the week of the
dance essentially became Spirit Week where everyone would be dressed in 50s attire till
Friday's dance, the school would be decorated, and the teachers would dress up as well) she
was able to speak in hushed whispers to Dami without being disturbed.

"You sure you don't mind going to the dance?" she asked, going through hooks and hooks of
polkadot dresses from the 60s.

Damian stood by her side, looking out of place in the colorful store with his black coat,
matching turtleneck, and elegant shoes and pants. Brook thought he looked very attractive,
not just because of his obvious genetic features, but because it was so...him. This was the
Damian she had grown to care for, even if others found him intimidating.

His green eyes shone with the light of dozens of little antique lamps around them, but his
gaze still softened at her words as he looked down at her.

"I could do without Osbo-Harry. But I find the logic of this plan is sound, plus, I would not
object to an evening in your company" Damian said, suddenly frowning at the frayed bell-
bottomed jeans he happened to stumble across beside her.
The two shared a private smile, hidden by a stack of flamboyant hats, a private thing for them
to enjoy.

"I must say, I was preparing and dreading to watch you take someone else" Brook said,
keeping her eyes locked onto his own despite the surprising embarrassment of admitting so.

Damian did not seem to find it amusing at all, not when he too explained, "I have grown used
to our secrecy, like the fact that this something more is ours and ours alone. But...I too found
myself...annoyed by the prospect of you thinking my not being able to go with you meant not
desiring to. I don't want to suffer through a school dance if you are not by my side"

Brooklyn secretly took his hand into her own, making use of their current spot away from the
others. Looking upon his eyes, Brook could see all those emotions he refused to show to
anyone else. There was worry in those emerald eyes, as there likely was mirrored in her own.

They were a team, and thus shared their burdens.

But in those silent eyes, there was also a sense of calm, a glistening joy Brooklyn still found
both flattering and incredible that it was her mere presence that was able to bring out said
emotions.

That was the thing about assassins. They were made to be strong, determined, and most of
all.... to be fighters. Fighting for and along side Damian was a determination so strong that it
made the days better, to know that as a creature forged to be alone..she no longer had to be.

The two spent their nights talking about feelings they perhaps could not share with others
close to them. They silently looked out for one another not just in battle, but at school. He
bought her coffee in the mornings and in turn, she fed him his own as they drove in the old
car they both treasured.

Sure, their fathers were insufferable lately, none of that had changed, the family divide was
still strong. But Damian got along great with Yelena by now, which translates to he no longer
thinks she's a danger and even better than that, he trust her in battle and with Jon. In turn,
Brooklyn's friendship with Jason was going along better than expected, in fact, Brooklyn
genuinely enjoyed his texts.

Even if they couldn't be seen together now and likely long into the future, Brook had yet to
feel this was not an emotion worth fighting for.

They were in this together, even when it meant attending a questionable 50s party.

"I'm not sure if I've told you" Brooklyn said, whispering the words as she moved to stand
closer to him, "But I never thought I'd be so glad you bumped into me that day of the gala,
even more so that you tried to kill me as we danced"

Damian raised a brow at the sudden confession, then gave her one of his rare half-lipped
smiles before saying, "I'm glad you put up a fight, even if some embarrassment came along
with it"
Brooklyn smirked as she recalled the way she'd dipped him after their dance had concluded,
laughed loudly at the memory, then stifled said noise before any of their friends could think
to come find them.

Though Damian tried to look displeased, the smile he'd had on his lips had now transferred
onto his eyes. It was in that moment that Brook leaned up on the tips of her heeled shoes to
place a soft and gentle kiss on his cheek.

Both her, Damian, and Yelena had already noted upon entry that this store had no cameras,
and the only person close by to them with super hearing was Jon, who knew better than to
listen in by now.

That kiss was solely their own.

In between the racks of old clothes that smelled of mothballs and contained accessories of
varying eras, Damian risked exposure by leaning so that they foreheads touched. There was
no need for flamboyant displays of affection, for kissing with passion the way teens at school
did.

Their eyes remained locked on one another for a few seconds, brown to green, soul to soul.
When Dami's hand came to rest at her cheek, she only felt that sense of calm heighten, felt it
even more so as she snuck a gloved hand past his black coat towards the place were she could
feel the steady beats of his heart through the turtleneck he wore.

Alive. Safe. Relaxed.

Their moment of peace was only interrupted when Tanya hollered Brook's name across the
store, mentioning she'd found outfits worthy for her to wear. With one last kiss to the tip
Damian's nose, Brooklyn scurried away, hiding along the passages until she was far away that
so no one would know a Stark and Wayne had shared a close space.

Damian had to appear seconds later, by which time Jon and Harry had dragged HIM to
another fitting screen.

Brook had not been allowed to see what the others had bought, nor had any of her friends
about each other. Tanya had insisted it would be nice for it to be a surprise when the time
came to get dressed, that it would feel more like they traveled back in time if it was a shock.

No one had bothered to argue, not when Tanya looked so excited.

By the end of their shopping spree, everyone had decided to have a sleepover at Pete's. It had
been Ned's idea, seeing as he thought the oblivious assassins in the room needed a 411 on the
50's for the upcoming spirit week.

Apparently, there was no better way to understand such an era than by movies depicting said
years.

Yelena and Brooklyn had brought spare food and blankets from their own apartments, and by
seven, the Dynasty was huddled on and in front of the lovely yet worn couches of the Parker
household.

They spent a few hours watching a movie called Grease , then proceeded to follow it up with
some dancing. Apparently, Aunt May had a fascination with old records (much to Lena's
delight), one of which had classic 50's songs, and Harry insisted they should all be prepared
to know how to dance properly.

"I'm going to the dance with our lovely Brooklyn of course, but I know she can dance" Harry
pointed out, "Seeing as Damian is my other date, I think we better make sure someone won't
embarrass us"

Damian had looked about ready to tackle Harry from the couch as he stated, "You're not my
date, just an unfortunate companion for the sake of public appearances"

Harry frowned and said in a mocking tone, "You heartbreaker"

Before a brawl (which would be very one sided) could begin, Peter had placed a large
phonograph record that played out a cheery tune of times past.

Though they had originally put music on for means of practicing, they ended up just goofing
around. It had been a day of freedom, where Brooklyn could laugh until tears came out of her
eyes as she watched fondly while Harry and Peter shared a dance, Ned cheering them on with
MJ leaning sleepily by his side.

Jon and Yelena had been shy in their steps. Brook knew her sister had been taught how to
dance well enough to be an expert. Perhaps the hesitation came from a less experienced Jon,
who watched his steps carefully as they swung around the room.

Regardless, both had smiles on their faces, which was enough for Brooklyn to pause her
dancing with Tanya so she could capture some of these treasured times.

Maybe tomorrow would be filled with uncertainty, maybe their enemies were waiting to
strike, for in that cloudy day as they moved around Peter's living room, throwing cookies and
drinking hot cocoa, Brooklyn had felt like nothing more than a treasured and valued friend.

Later on when she was back in her own apartment, staring at the fake glistening stars above
her bed while wondering if Tanya was doing alright next door, if Yelena and MJ had decided
to stay up watching more 50's movies in Lena's apartment, and even thinking that all the boys
alone in Pete's home was probably a bad idea....the feeling of joy and contentment remained.
 Private Birthday
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Yelena Stark POV-

Though it had taken a considerable amount of time to get this place settled, Yelena was
surprised to find it was starting to feel like home.

There were times she found herself missing the boisterous energy of the Avenger Compound
for sure, but its not like she didn't go there on weekends. Her contact with mom, dad, and
Harley was still strong, and the rest of the Avengers often took to calling her and Brook
whenever they had the chance between missions.

It wasn't as annoying as she'd thought it might be, not at all.

Having a place of her own was...odd. Yelena held control over her future now, one which she
was freely thinking about more and more every day. She had friends, a family, a job and
purpose, and she had the ease of knowing that whatever the future held, she'd never face it
alone.

Her apartment's location had been a choice she'd likely never regret. Being just two doors
away from Brooklyn's own home was a comfort, knowing this apartment complex was the
safest in the city certainly made Yelena even more at ease.

Having Parker a few doors down was also a plus, he was a dear friend, and Aunt May had
been nothing but hospitable. The woman liked to bring food for Yelena on Wednesdays, and
the two could sit in the living room to talk about medical procedures for hours after May's
shift and Lena's internship were over.

On this particular evening, Yelena did not have to attend her internship seeing as it was a
celebrated holiday, something about the anniversary of a war the Justice League had fought.
Though such holidays did not often except her from hero work, Queens had been rather
docile as of late, which meant a little free time was allowed into her busy schedule.

Yesterday had been spent full of shopping for the school dance (which Yelena would never
admit to actually be looking forward to). But today's schedule was focused on celebration.

This morning had been spent at the Briar Rose Cafe with the rest of the team, not to plot or
scheme ways to stop those intent on spreading evil, but to celebrate a birthday that had been
put off for some time.

Damian Wayne's birthday.

Harry and Tanya had been quick to take the lead on planning the 'secret' celebratory
breakfast. With Jon's help, they'd managed to bring some of Damian's favorite meals, and
though the Wayne had seemed annoyed over all the fuss and presents...he had not tried to kill
any of them.

As per Brooklyn's idea, she suggested that the afternoon be spent with a more 'private'
celebration. Spending time with people who knew the secret of their relationship where
Damian could be more at ease was a good idea, and Yelena had been quick to agree to host it
so it could double as a chance for Jon to come by her place again.

The apartment itself was not much different from Brook's. It had the same layout, only the
spaces were used rather differently.

The place where Brooklyn had set up a dinning area (which now had enough chairs to
accommodate for all their friends), Yelena had decided to leave it open for dancing purposes.

She'd set up a wooden bar by the window where she and Brook could stretch on days they
felt like starting their mornings with some ballet. Aside from that, the space was nothing
more than hardwood floors and propped up mirrors on the walls.

The living room had been a space she kept for its intended purpose though. It had a large TV,
frames gifted by Brook with photos of friends and family atop the fireplace, and any and all
commodities to make the space warm and comfortable.

Where Brooklyn's shelves in the living room where filled with books, Yelena's were occupied
by endless discs, records, and large speakers solely related for musical pleasures. Thanks to
mom and dad, Yelena's interest in music had taken a sot of 'hobby' aspect to it.

To Lena, music was freedom, joy, and a way to experience many emotions she was deprived
of growing up. Where Brook turned to books for knowledge, Yelena did so with musical
lyrics, which had recently come from the 50's thanks to the upcoming dance.

As for the rest of the living room...Yelena had made sure there were enough couches and
loveseats for all her friends to sit at one day. She hadn't been sure why it had been so
important to her as she was planning the decor, or a least that was until this morning spent
with her friends.

Being around them felt like home, just as much as this apartment did.

Though this was a space designated for herself, a private alcove to call her own, Yelena
realized her friends were a part of who she was, just as much as music and ballet were.

Of course there were other aspects of her home that where...not as friendly.

Brooklyn took to using her little office space for research purposes, often filled with maps
and pinups or various clues. Yelena's office was full of weapons, enough that should she or
anyone else were attacked, she'd be more than ready. SHIELD had not bat an eye at the
amount of weapons Lena brought with her, they couldn't seeing as she was an official agent
now anyways.
Suffice to say that room was locked, only for safety purposes (especially when Harley came
around).

The rest of the rooms were coming along quite nicely in terms of being more personalized.
Granted her kitchen was a big mess with take-out packages, because unlike Brooklyn, Yelena
was not born with the surprising ability cook.

All those beautiful plates and cups Mrs. Kent had sent as a warming gift were still used, but
none of her kitchen appliances were ever approached to make a meal. But the clock Mr.
Superman..eh...Mr. Kent had gifted her as a housewarming gift, that was fully functional up
on the wall, currently ticking as the minutes went by.

But that wasn't the only sound in the apartment.

As the sounds of Swan Lake filled the room, Yelena finally opened her eyes, drifting from
her internal thoughts as she struck the last pose with graceful ease. A pose for a routine her
and Brooklyn had finally finished, all as a way to not have to dance a single choreographed
piece from the Red Room.

They'd gone through their favorite songs as of late with Nat, changed the choreography as
much as they could, and in every spare moment life allowed, they made sure their changes
eclipsed the memories of the past until only these new steps could be associated with the
songs.

Swan Lake was reborn at last, all traces of hours of Ivan's torturous instruction gone with this
particular piece.

Beside her, Brooklyn's red-lipped smile could be seen on their reflection in the mirror before
them, still stuck in the pose after the final pirouette.

Brushing back her long auburn hair, said with slight panting breaths, "Not bad, sestra"

Yelena made a show of brushing back her own hair in a similar way, in what she liked to call
'the effortless beauty of the princess of New York'. At the mocking gesture, Brooklyn did not
hesitate to shoot her an equally offensive gesture which sent both widows into faint laughter.

Both then turned to the clock above, not at all surprised to see they had lost track of time
again, that the boys would be here in a few minutes.

Neither deigned to change from their ballet clothes, identical ensembles of black fabric that
clung to their chest but fluttered with layers of soft and breezy fabric at the hips that always
twirled beautifully, like a flower made of shadows.

It was no surprise that Brooklyn moved to put a cropped sweater on of equal color, one that
would hide the bare back full of deep scars, bullet wounds, and what looked to be knife
injuries of varying degrees of severity.

Her sister had taken to leaving her back bare since after the events of the Bermuda Triangle
when dancing, and though neither Nat or Yelena had commented on it, they were just glad
Brooklyn trusted them enough to let the scars be seen (even if her hair covered them most of
the time, Yelena suspected that to not be an accident on Brook's part).

Every other time, at school, on missions, and even at the Compound, those wounds were
covered. Even to the point that when Brooklyn had modeling duties to attend, she ALWAYS
insisted on dressing herself, letting the world think her a diva when outright rejecting dresses
with revealing backs.

No one of those pompous camera men or designers would suspect such bold claims would be
to keep a painful secret at bay. That Brook was content with letting them think the worst
when she refused to be touched too much during fittings.

'Her dad doesn't like to be handed things, maybe she took some of that attitude and decided
being touched was beneath her', Yelena had recently heard a camera man mention. The
stupidity of his claim and lack of knowledge were the only things that kept the ex-assassin
from throwing a punch that day.

Yelena's scars were many, but never near as bad as her sister's. When the day inevitably came
for Yelena to join the social responsibilities of a Stark, she would not have to hide as Brook
did. She wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

Her thoughts were put on pause when a sudden noise came from the balcony which not only
revealed a cloudy sky and distant bustling city, but Jon.

Clad in his hero attire (a simple blue suit with a yellow S on its chest, paired with a large red
cape she often used during their rooftop gazing 'dates), Jon removed his black domino mask
and stepped into the room with that same sunny smile that always made Yelena forget
darkness existed in the world.

He greeted both Starks with an embrace, and though the hug given to Yelena lasted a
significantly longer time, Brook did not seem to mind. The auburn haired teen merely smiled
their way, shaking her head gleefully at Jon's eagerness as she removed her ballet pointe
shoes.

Yelena was already so used to Jon's friendly gestures that she did not even think twice to hug
him back, rest her head against his warm chest where that symbol of hope rested against her
cheek.

"Hey, Lena" he whispered softly, a greeting just for her.

Yelena merely smiled at the words, shifting to look up into his crystal blue eyes, his black
windblown hair from flight, and just overall that face of his that was HER symbol of hope.

"You're early" she chided with no real bite in her words.

Jon smiled, moving to glance at Brooklyn's form behind them as he mentioned, "Damian is
parking Roscoe in your garage. He's the one that got us here earlier with that fast driving of
his. I swear he and my godfather drive like speedsters"
Brook did not seem surprised by the words, relenting a small close-lipped smile at the
mention of the boy of her affections, the one Brooklyn had once disclosed was the only
breathing being who she let her scars show freely around.

Said person waltzed through the door seconds later, as always, looking proper and composed
with that passive glare of his. If Yelena had not seen the way he was around Brooklyn all this
time, she might've assumed there was nothing more to him than anger and annoyance.

Yelena had ultimately decided long ago that Damian Wayne was a peculiar conundrum, one
that perhaps would never be fully understood by any other being than Brooklyn. She
supposed thats what could happen when two ex-assassins dated one another, both so used to
individual secrecy that their relationship becomes even more so.

But Brooklyn looked happy, her willingness to take the risk of going against their dad's
wishes was enough of a show of her commitment and yearning to be with Damian in the first
place.

Damian nodded a simple greeting at Yelena, then quickly moved towards Brooklyn as if
they'd been apart too long. Each step made his shoulders tense less, and though his back was
facing Yelena and Jon, she suspected he might've even smiled at Brook, for her sister's smile
grew upon seeing him.

Damian did not seemed bothered with sitting on the ground beside Brooklyn, merely
stretched out a hand once he'd seated himself, a gesture to hand over her other foot so he
could untie the ballet shoe for her. A surpassingly gentle gesture that the Wayne performed
with ease, as if he'd done so many times before.

Beside Yelena, Jon dared to whisper, "You have no idea how weird it is to see him like this,
even now"

Yelena suppressed a smile and asked, "What do you mean? They are always like this"

Jon's eyes were wide as he stared at the simple act of his friend taking off a ballet shoe, both
of them still whispering things to one another that perhaps Jon could hear while Yelena could
not.

It was with a sense of wonder that Jon cast his gaze back upon Yelena, smile brighter as he
confessed, "Nothing...its just, I'm glad you guys came into our lives is all"

Yelena couldn't help the fluttering-like feeling in her chest at the words, not when she knew
Jon had a tendency to always speak from the heart. It was one of the qualities that made her
both confused and amazed when it came to Jon.

Unsure just how to respond to that, Lena settled for holding his hand, something Jon now
understood as her way of expressing her feelings for him when words failed her.

It wasn't long before the four of them made it to the living room with the food Brooklyn
ordered. Yelena and Jon took up a whole couch for themselves, while the other two gladly
claimed the one on the right as their own.
Before any food could be consumed though, Jon changed out of his suit into casual clothes
Damian had brought in with him, in which his blue shearling jacket contained a single unlit
candle the size of a finger within a pocket.

Jon pulled it out proudly and said, "Now we can't have a birthday celebration without
blowing a candle! I know you don't want a cake, so we can just place it atop your donut!"

Damian looked like he wanted to argue against it, but one look at Brooklyn's confused face
had him asking instead, "What is it?"

Yelena did not want to admit she was also in the dark as to what the candle was for, and
thankfully Brooklyn spared her the obvious embarrassment as she mentioned, "Why do you
need a candle?"

Beside Lena, Jon stared at the two widows with a somber kind of surprise, like he was hoping
they were joking about their confusion.

"You never saw a birthday celebration, even in your old foster home?"Damian inquired to the
girl beside him, seemingly already knowing the answer before it was said.

Strange, Brook had never spoken of a previous home, at least not enough for Yelena to pull
up anything important...

Brooklyn was looking down at the chopsticks in hand, unwilling to meet any eyes as she
shook her head and replied, "I just assumed birthdays involved gift giving, that cake was a
convenient meal to eat because many people would be in attendance. I wouldn't know
though, I never saw one"

Yelena had not known much more than that before today. It should come as no surprise that
the Red Room did not host friendly reminders of birthdays. In fact, she hadn't been looking
forward to her birthday (like every other year) until her friends seemed to think it was a day
of celebration.

Upon seeing Brooklyn's nervous glance towards Yelena, a look both widows seemed to
understand as they mentally went back memory lane, it was Jon that asked, "What were
birthdays like back...back in those days? Did you even have them?"

Yelena smiled faintly at his nervousness, at the hints of worry in his voice whenever the Red
Room was brought up.

It was only inevitable such a story be told at some point, which is why Yelena took the
initiative to explain, "Birthdays were milestones of sorts, a way to indicate you were ready
for the next stage in training"

Brooklyn nodded, at last looking up from her cutlery to add with vaguely haunted eyes, "To
ensure we were...not lacking when it came to strength, our days of birth, our den' rozhdeniya,
were spent in a torture room"
Yelena felt like sinking into the blankets sprawled on her lap at the memories, still, she
ignored the horrified look from Jon and the silently angry look from Damian as she added,
"Den' rozhdeniya was a day in which Ivan let us be tortured for hours, making sure we did
not scream, did not show any weakness, to make sure we were ready for what was to come.
Widows who failed were killed on the spot"

It was upon the following silence that Yelena realized something quite horrible. Glancing at
her silent sister, eyes wide in horror, Yelena accidentally voiced out loud, "You never came
back those days..."

Yelena would spend her birthdays in the torture room, or the alaya komnata as they used to
call it (scarlet room...because of all the dried blood), for no more than maybe ten hours. But
now that she thought about it, those nights of Brooklyn's birthdays...Yelena would look upon
the bed beside her own and notice Brook wasn't there.

It was always the next morning when Brooklyn would be seen again during training, looking
weakened as they all did on their day of the year, only she always seemed more deadly on
those mornings.

Yelena had only cared then because she knew that when it came to survival, it was always
best not to be paired with her sestra on those days, weak as Brook may have looked.

Brooklyn's eyes were downcast, even with that forced small smile.

Yelena, observant as always, was able to see that Damian's hand moved under the covers to
hold Brook's in silent support, or perhaps it was a plea to voice out Yelena's vague words.

Seemingly able to trust everyone in the room, Brooklyn took a deep breath and confessed, "I
was supposed to be Ivan's heir. I needed longer evaluations to make sure I was on track to
live up to the title"

The way she said it, as if it were nothing important...Yelena couldn't breathe for a second as
she recalled all the torture methods used on her, then imagined what it would be like to
experience that for over 24 hours.

Damian didn't seem to give a shit that he was around others in that moment, did not care that
Jon and Yelena could witness as he scooted closer to her side in a position that seemed much
more comfortable to the two of them. More familiar.

Yelena would never say she was overly fond of Damian Wayne, but in that moment, she
could've hugged him when he moved to place an arm around Brook's shoulders, tucking her
close to his side as he whispered, "I was never treaded wrongly on my birthday, but it was
never celebrated before I came to Gotham. If birthdays are unpleasant to recall, we don't need
to celebrate any, including my own"

Brooklyn's chocolate brown eyes stared up at the Wayne with poorly hidden adoration as she
replied, "I find I like these kinds of birthdays. Plus, I'm sure Yelena can agree that celebrating
our friends if something we very much like to do"
Yelena nodded as she took Jon's hand into her own, using her other to wipe the stray tear
falling from his cheek.

"Without all of you, we would be very different people" Yelena said, "Celebrating our friends
and family is not unpleasant at all. So, since we don't know, tell us what the candle is for"

Jon smiled softly at her, as always taking everything from her past better than she expected.
In this case, he knew better than to ask further questions, to pull up old memories. Instead, he
held up the tiny candle of the softest shade of green for all of them to see.

"Well, we get a candle and put it on a cake, or in this case a donut, and Damian gets to close
his eyes and make a wish" Jon points out, then stares at the lone candle with some
amusement before adding, "Usually you're supposed to have as many candles on your cake as
your new age...but mom only had one left and the donut is small anyways, but the principle
remains. Its your birthday, you get to make a wish"

Both Yelena and Brook locked eyes, smiling at the silly logic of making wishes.

Yelena did not voice said thought, neither did her sister, not when they appreciated the
innocence of it all to some extent. What better way to grow a year older than by making a
wish, right? Certainly was better than getting tortured.

So they let Jon fly over to place the donut on Damian's lap just as Yelena brought the candle
and placed it delicately in its middle. The two took a seat on the table before the couch,
watching as Brooklyn removed one of her vibranium bracelets, and with careful
concentration, lit the candle aflame with a finger.

Damian did not seem much like the 'wish making' type, nevertheless, he accepted the light
Brooklyn had made despite her recent reluctance to use fire more than necessary. Perhaps it
was because of said gift of light that Damian merely rolled his eyes, muttered something
about this being ridiculous, before closing his eyes...then blowing out the candle.

"What did you wish for?" Brooklyn asked, spirits again lifted.

It was Jon that clicked his tongue at the words, saying matter-of-factly, "One can't reveal their
wish Brook! Not when they want the wish to come true"

Though Brook still looked curiously at the teen holding her close, she did not pry for said
tidbit of information, and Yelena wondered if that innocent little wish was the only secret
they would keep from one another.

With new found vigor, everyone then settled back down and dug into their food with gusto as
the TV displayed the news should the Dynasty be needed ahead of their scheduled patrols
tonight.

Lena had offered to take out some vodka she'd snatched from Nat upon leaving the
compound, but Jon had outright refused, likely remembering his first hangover. Damian had
also looked somewhat haunted, but not in the unpleasant since, yet he still refused.
So, nonalcoholic drinks it was.

Conversation had strayed from dark pasts to more amusing things, like Flash almost slipping
on snow yesterday, the history essay they had due next week, tall tales from Jon about his
internship as a reporter (which involved all sorts of complain about his haughty boss in need
of a vacation before he burst a blood vessel), and Brooklyn's upcoming detention which she'd
managed to snag last week during lunch, which she had served two days ago.

"If I have to hear Grandpa Steve tell me about how much I messed up in getting detention in
a stupid videotape, I might scream. Seriously, who convinced him to record all that stuff!"
Brook said, which sent Yelena into a fit of laughter and gave her the wicked idea to find all
school tapes to send to Nat so she could make fun of her new boyfriend properly.

"I can't believe you outright punched a guy!" Jon exclaimed towards Brook, who was now
sleepily resting her head on Damian's shoulder, looking hours away from an inevitable food
coma.

Brooklyn did not seem upset in the slightest over her detention, hadn't when she received it,
and surely didn't now as she smiled at the likely memory of that guy from the chess club with
a broken nose and a wounded ego as he fled the lunch hall wailing like a toddler.

In all honesty, Yelena had been fearful that Brook might be upset about serving detention,
this was Lena's fault after all.

"He was making fun of my sister's beautiful Russian accent" Brooklyn said, a twinge of anger
still left in her eyes before she smiled and added, "He's lucky breaking his nose and bruising
his eye is all I did"

Beside Brook, Yelena was surprised to see Damian nodded along in agreement. She had been
even more surprised on that day when she noticed the Wayne had been seconds away from
joining Brook in the fray, only to be stopped by an upset Jon who had immediately hugged
Lena close upon hearing the insult.

With a faint laugh, Yelena said around a bite of brisket ramen, "Dad seemed proud the last
time we talked to him"

Indeed, when Yelena had been expecting a reprimand, dad had merely cheered for Brooklyn's
mode of action.

'I'm glad you two have each other's backs. And if that pompous bastard said anything against
Yelena again, I can fly him up to the moon if you'd like' was all dad had said on the matter.

With a slight flinch, Brooklyn pointed out, "Yeah, dad was cool about it, but mom is probably
going to call soon. She comes back from Italy today"

Dad would come back from his mission tonight as well, which would no doubt be an overly
affectionate reunion for Harley to suffer through. As for mom...she was certainly not going to
be happy about this, even when Jon and Damian looked pleased with the series of events of
that day.
When conversation died down and the TV played stupid news channels that once again
boasted about the probability of their baby brother Harley becoming the next Iron Man,
simply because he was the only boy of the three siblings, they decided to have some fun.

Seeing as it was Damian's belated birthday (thanks to Lex Luthor for making them so busy),
they decided to do things the Wayne would like. Bringing out the carefully tucked away mats
into the dance space, they were able to get some training done.

This was mostly for Jon's benefit, seeing as he could still use improvements on his self
defense and martial arts even when his kryptonian assets seemed to be enough for any fight.
With Lex on the possible lookout for kryptonite though, they weren't taking any chances...

Then they moved on to a little sparing competition in teams of two. No superhuman abilities
allowed, just Jon and Yelena vs Damian and Brook.

It came as little to no surprise that the Wayne and her sestra were a formidable team, but Jon
had found the challenge funny and Yelena hadn't cared about loosing a fight to Brook since
the Red Room days.

Overall, it was the most fun Yelena had in days, and it ended up with Brook and herself
sprawled on the mats laughing when Jon accidentally knocked over a lamp in his attempts to
look cool doing a high kick.

It was in that merry moment, that Yelena truly felt that her home finally became complete at
last.

Damian Wayne POV-

After patrols, when it became clear that it was getting too late to go back to Gotham ( and for
Jon to fly the rest of the way back to Metropolis) the two boys decided to take up the offers to
just leave in the morning.

Jon had shyly accepted the guest room Yelena had offered with equal bashfulness.

As for Damian, Brooklyn did not even have to ask, not at this point in their 'something more'
anyways. So, he'd silently followed her back to the apartment a few doors down so he could
get proper sleeping attire with little fuss.

They'd go back to Yelena's to watch a movie with the others soon, but as the door of
apartment 56 closed, Damian said, "I have renounced killing, and I can't believe I'm saying
this, but if you ask Todd to kill Ivan I'm willing to let it slide"

Brooklyn must've know he wasn't entirely joking, because when she laughed on her way
down the familiar hall, he noticed the laugh was not as long as her usual ones.

He was quick to join her in the guest room that seemed to contain more and more of his
personal items as time passed. He still had his English book in here from when he stopped by
after yesterday's patrol, had books and trinkets given to him by the team that Damian would
not feel comfortable with any of his family finding in his actual room.

Whenever he came in, the room was clean, clothes in place, and the room was undisturbed.

He and Brooklyn had taken to calling this 'his' room for simplicity's sake, though at times,
Damian found himself enjoying the peace and quiet of this apartment, more so than the chaos
of his true home where his siblings acted weirdly around him and Damian had to pretend not
to want to fight his own father for all the crap he put Brook through during the long
internship hours.

It was inside the safety of Damian's room that Brooklyn turned to smile at him, the shadows
of the past nowhere in sight as she said softly, "Ivan's in jail, thats good enough for me. But I
hope you're not too annoyed by all the celebrations you had today"

Damian scoffed, "Better than the celebration I get at home where Dick and Barbara always
plan a big party and Jason ends up eating all the cake"

At that, Brooklyn chuckled, moving to stand before him so she could take his coat off, a
gesture neither bat an eyelash at now.

"I never thought I'd get to see what a birthday looked like" she admitted softly, running gentle
fingers along the stitching of his turtleneck, "I especially never thought I'd care about
someone enough to celebrate something like that and truly be happy said person was born"

Damian did not even realize he'd moved a hand to run along the tresses of her hair until she
leaned her cheek against his palm, eyes closed with a faint smile.

He thought back to his last birthday, a cold and dreary day after he and his family had put
The Riddler back in Arkham Asylum.

Selina had been nothing but a waste of space in his opinion back then, had not been pregnant
at the time either. Duke had yet to join the family with his smiles and upbeat attitude, Goliath
(spoiled as he is) was not yet a member of the household either, and Damian's outlook on life
had been the same as every year prior.

It was like a painting, only it was devoid of color. The future did not show any light, only the
same strokes and colors of the past in different renditions. Were he the artist of the painting of
his present and future, at the time, he never would've bothered thinking of adding color to
said painting.

Then he left Gotham, joined the Dynasty, opened his weary heart to an emotion so strong he'd
yet to properly describe it, much less attempt to paint it.

But there was color in his future now, a result of newfound purpose. He wasn't sure exactly
when it had begun, when waking up in the mornings was no longer more than an annoyance.
The one thing he was sure of, with every bit of assuredness someone of his character could
feel, was that the path ahead was not entirely unwelcome, perhaps even something he looked
forward to.
Today, for the first time in Damian's life since arriving at Gotham, since the concept of
birthday celebrations had been introduced...he'd made an actual wish.

A young man of his caliber should not reduce himself to making foolish things as wishes. He
was of the mind that if you wanted something, you had to work for it. But today he had
wished, not just for himself, but for those that had never wished before.

Circling a hand along the waistband of Brooklyn's skirt, Damian pulled the fiery girl before
him into an embrace. Brooklyn did not fight it, and despite her surprise, she was quick to rest
her hands along his back.

"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining" he heard her muffle against his sweater.

Damian took a second to remind himself that Brooklyn was here with him, safe from Ivan.
He focused on the feel of her soft hair between his fingers, of the scarred tissue of her back
he could barely feel thanks to the layers of her clothes.

"I'm afraid I can't say, it would bring bad luck" he replied, if only because voicing his wish
might just make him seem all the more hopeless in emotions that he already felt.

Brooklyn chuckled at his response, leaning back slightly so she could lean upwards to place a
soft kiss on his lips. She had likely intended it to be quick and simple, but Damian could not
find it in himself to let go for this private moment that was their own.

It was his one selfish desire, the greatest defiance against his last name, but it was also his
greatest contentment to be in this room with his beloved.

He leaned down to kiss her with more vigor, in the way the two of them had learned after
many instances of mapping out each other's lips. The feeling of it all, it had an intensity he
did not often let himself feel. It felt like falling, flying, running...all at once.

When Brooklyn moved to lace her arms beside his neck, pulling herself closer to him,
Damian almost let himself get more lost in the feeling of it all. In a way, he did. The youngest
Wayne did not bother to stifle the smile that bloomed on his lips that continued to dance with
her own, he did not stop his arms from pulling her closer by the waist, nor did he delude
himself into admitting this was anything but blissful.

It was with one final kiss that Damian finally pulled back, astounded to find his beloved's lips
were as visibly kiss-swollen as his own felt. The neatly arranged rouge lipstick that had once
been on her lips was smudged in a way that Damian surprisingly did not find unruly or
careless.

She looked breathtaking, nothing less.

With a blushing smirk, Brooklyn hesitantly moved out of his arms reach towards the door,
but not before saying, "I'll let you get dressed, I'm going to change as well anyways. Be right
back"
With that the door closed, and Damian felt like a fool for just standing there for a few
seconds, smirking to himself. Perhaps it was that long hesitation to move that caused the
event that transpired afterwards.

He'd spent so long stuck in the moment, enough that he should've been done with his task,
that by the time he'd pulled out some comfortable clothes and took off his shirt...the door to
the room opened.

Brooklyn did not see him right away when she opened the door, she was looking at at her
phone with a smile as she said by way of greeting, "I can't believe your brother sometimes!
Did you know that his suicidal ass just challenged Titus to a race across the-"

Damian, frozen by her entrance, saw the moment she looked up and took in his shirtless
form. Her'd expected the wide eyes, but what he had not foreseen as an effect of this situation
was the way Brooklyn's cheeks bloomed with color, that her eyes lingered on his form for
long enough that he felt slightly proud that she clearly found his form attractive, but also felt
a blush creep up on his cheeks when her gaze roamed his figure a few times.

It was not long after that Brooklyn snapped out of whatever had been going on in her head,
which in turn finally kickstarted his traitorous brain to finally move towards the bed to find
that t-shirt of his.

He heard Brook cough nervously behind him, especially once she apologized for not
knocking. Damian did not bother mentioning he should've been changed by now, not when he
was stuck in this odd place that was pleased she found him attractive enough to come to a
standstill.

Damian had never much cared for the opinions of others, even less when it came to his
appearance, but this was...a nice surprise.

The walk back to apartment 58 had been rather quiet, and Damian found it difficult to hide a
small smirk, especially when Brooklyn had told him upon leaving the apartment that no boy
his age should have such defined abs.

It had been a joke to defuse the tension, but it just so happened to be said as Par-Peter opened
the door of his apartment to go take out the trash. The sight of Brook and Damian in casual
clothes, talking about HIS abs was clearly more than Peter could process.

He knew they were spending the afternoon at Yelena's, but not much more than that.
Thankfully, Parker was likely of the mind to forget about this by tomorrow, so their secret
remained undisturbed.

Indeed, Peter had not known what to say, had merely waved their way before closing his door
and making way down the opposite end of the hall. It's not that Damian was slightly smug
that Parker now knew Brooklyn found his abs to be great...but it was exactly that.

Before entering Yelena's apartment, Damian said (still fighting back a surpassing smile), "Its
not a crime to find your significant other pleasing to the eye, my beloved"
 With an embarrassed huff, Brooklyn looked like she might lean her head on the door, only to
then reply with a hint of her own teasing to try and bring down her blush, "Then do you find
me pleasing to the eye?"

Damian stood still for a second, then realized his own embarrassment was for naught as his
eyes locked onto her own. She was wearing an old plan shirt of his paired with SHIELD
sweats, but even with the lack of 'revealing skin' as he'd displayed earlier, Damian found
himself illogically struck.

His voice was thankfully calm and steady, sure and strong, as he replied without hesitation,
"Of course"

The two stood by the door, smiling at one another with a shyness neither was accustomed to
until Jon opened the door, mentioning he'd heard faint whispers.

They'd all settled back in their previous seats, allowing Jon to put on his favorite film since
Damian did not have one. It was relatively predictable and amorous, something Damian was
not surprised Jon found to be the height of filmmaking.

It was halfway through the movie that Brooklyn moved her attention from the screen towards
her ringing phone. The unclasping of their hands is what made Damian realize Brook was
just staring disbelievingly at the screen instead of answering.

Yelena paused her popcorn eating to inquire, "Is dad back from his mission, should the boys
be quiet while you take the call? Or is it mom ready to yell your ear off?"

His beloved did not reply right away, not until he put a reassuring hand on her shoulder,
wondering if Mr. Stark was on his way to visit his daughters, already planning a swift escape
to not be seen.

Only Brooklyn shook her head, continued to stare at her glowing phone screen as she said
almost in awe, "No, its not them"

Jon leaned forward to rest his chin on Yelena's shoulder as he asked, "Who is it then? Or is it
hero trouble?"

Brook merely turned her phone screen for them to see the called ID, verified on a private
channel that only governmental officials would have to both prove their identity and keep
conversations from being hacked.

Damian glanced worryingly at the screen that read the most unexpected of words.

The President of the United States.

Chapter End Notes

Wow! These chapters have been a blast to write. I hope you're all ready for what's to
come, because it certainly will be a little different than the past chapters for sure!
 The Joker's Day
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Brooklyn Stark POV-

Out of all things she had ever done for the sake of her public image as Brooklyn Stark, this
was by far the most unexpected.

At this point in her life, Brook would be an idiot if she refused to acknowledge that her
public image was steadily growing these past few months, not just as Firestar. With modeling
jobs, her face on MTV every time she was in Gotham, and brief interviews where she had to
play the part of the glamorous Stark....it caught on a lot of attention.

The citizens of Queens were still relatively polite as to leave her alone most of the time. They
took pictures while she was out on the streets, some asked for autographs or pictures, but
most only watched from a distance.

Online was a different story.

For some reason Brooklyn did not understand, just being a Stark made people inclined to
wear what she did, to style their hair as she did. If she was seen at the park with Yelena,
others would find that to be their favorite place in a manner of days.

It was a sphere of influence Brooklyn had not anticipated, but one many were now aware of.
Even without her trying or meaning to, she was someone who others looked to for guidance
even when they had no idea of her 'nobler' acts as a hero.

The President of the United States had called a few days ago with a peculiar invitation, one
which would provide a chance to use that untapped influence for good.

There was a Climate Change conference in Japan tomorrow, one in which Brooklyn's
presence would attract a fair number of viewers and media coverage for younger generations
to become interested in the world's changes.

Mom and Dad had considered it a good idea, so naturally, she'd agreed with the intention to
give Brooklyn Stark a reputation worthy of the daughter of Iron-man. It was about time she
became more than just an artificial being...it was time she showed an interest in doing some
good, even if she couldn't reveal herself as Firestar.

As Brook sat on the presidential plane, mere seats away from the kind president, she wasn't
entirely sure what the man would make of her being Firestar. He had no idea he'd invited a
hero of Queens aboard his quest, but thankfully, he did not have the clearance to know that
information or the fact that he hoped to save the planet by having an ex-assassin give a pretty
speech.
By some miracle, for now, she was relatively undisturbed. Her seat was comfortable, lavish
beyond necessity. Her dress was not as comfortable, its long length and bright red shade not
only made reclining a process of arranging ruffles of fabric but made Brook very cautious
while eating.

Already on her fifth chocolate glazed donut, to spite the congresswomen who'd taken one
look at Brooks figure and assumed she purposefully starved herself for looks, the teen payed
the onlookers no mind as she texted her friends, who were busy with their own tasks today.

Damian was the least happy of them all, mentioning he had to go to the hospital for the
gender reveal of his umi's baby. He'd been sitting in a limousine with his siblings for an hour
as they discussed/ argued over baby names.

Through texting Jason, Brooklyn knew her friend was adamant over wanting a brother.
Texting Damian now, she could tell he just wanted his mom to be ok health-wise. Brook
would've told him it was adorable of him to be so protective over his unborn sibling, but he
might've taken offense to that.

In her own way, Brook was excited to see what gender the new addition to the Wayne's
would be. She couldn't wait to hear the news in an hour, especially because she'd been
planning to deliver a secret gift to the baby of Damian's growing family, through Alfred to
avoid questions of course.

Unfortunately, the next hour was not as peaceful as the first few.

More and more government officials had approached her with the sneaky intentions of
making deals with the future heiress. Stark Industries was vast and successful, which the
government could benefit in having close ties with.

After the accords, dad had kept his ties with the government as minimal as possible, and
Brooklyn didn't exactly have the intention of changing that, not when half her family still had
ankle bracelets and were labeled as criminals.

At some point, Brooklyn actually called on her suit, the one she once used as transportation
for Goliath to travel from Gotham in secret. She kept the suit flying a fair distance away to
not be detected, but close enough in case this became too much and she chose to just jump
out the plane and made the rest of the trip on her own.

Seriously, one man (the Secretary of Defense no less), kept pestering her about convincing
her little brother to train with the air-force in preparation for his 'future role' as the next Iron
Man.

Everyone around her seemed to agree.

Knowing Harley wasn't even capable of killing a spider, she just kept her mouth shut. These
people would hopefully never have a say in her little brother's life. Just as Damian was
protective of his unborn sibling, Brooklyn considered herself perhaps even more so of Harley.
Ugh...if only Uncle Rhodey had been able to come, the trip would certainly be filled with
more enjoyable company. Or at least someone pleasant to talk to.

Seriously, Air Force One might just loose a passenger, even if the plane itself was big enough
to get away from the others if need be. Brooklyn didn't yet understand why a 4,000 square
foot plane needed a presidential stateroom, an executive dressing room and shower, a
conference/dining room, two fully equipped kitchens, a presidential office, a medical
treatment room, secretarial offices, and six lavatories.

The one thing the plane seemed to lack, was enough security.

Just as Brooklyn contemplated leaving her seat to make a private call to her dad about
sparing her the torture of retuning to the country with the president tomorrow, things took a
surprising turn for the worse.

The once calm environment turned into a heap of panicked screams when the lights went out.
One second, Brooklyn was clutching her seat in the darkness, dagger at the ready. The next,
she was blinded by light, and all the monitors around them (TVs on the front of the seats,
screens hoisted atop the aisles, even the tablets held by various secretaries) suddenly tuned in
to one frequency.

The black screens shifted to show one image, the Joker's face...laughing.

Brooklyn slowly rose from her seat, ignoring the passing secret service operatives rushing
towards the president a few seats back. Her gaze honed into the maniacal laughter she'd heard
before at the LexCorp Gala, watched as his distorted smile opened wide in the most horrific
way possible.

Brook thought it was a recording, perhaps just a looping video, that was until the laughter
stopped and the Joker's amused smile turned serious, scary, and deadly against the dark
contrast of whatever room he was in.

He did not explain the reason for his hacking, nor did he make any demands.

All the Joker said was, voice maddening and crazed as he passed the tip of a knife between
his green locks, "My time has come to show you all the truth...the truth about heroes! The
only sensible way to live in this world is without rules. Madness is like gravity...all it takes is
a little push. Introduce a little anarchy. Upset the established order, and everything becomes
chaos. I'm an agent of chaos...and no one can stop me, not even those you've entrusted with
your life"

The Joker laughed, and it was as Brook walked closer to the nearest screen at her disposal, a
TV propped on the wall, that she realized his lips were red not with lipstick....but with fresh
blood.

"Now comes the part where I relieve you, the little people, of the burden of your failed and
useless lives. But, as my plastic surgeon always said...If you gotta go, go with a smile!" he
added, face shrouded in shadows that only illuminated the brightness of his red smile before
the screen went black.
For a few seconds, no one on the plane spoke, and only the secret service men around the
president moved as they held their handguns at the ready for any incoming attack.

Brooklyn's heart sunk at the cryptic message. Because she had been expecting the Joker to
make his move soon, feared along with her friends that his lack of presence was likely due to
something big in the works.

Of course it had to be the day she was away.

Still unsure if the message was just for them or the rest of the country, Brooklyn quickly
ignored the pleas to remain in her seat from the various frightened flight attendants. Despite
her bare feet and the need to raise up her dress to walk undisturbed down the aisle, Brook
was mindful of her own impatience as she rushed to a com on the wall to reach the pilots.

"Any sign of aircraft around us? Anything that could target the plane?" she asked, barely
aware that people had just sprung into action behind her, getting weapons and calling for an
emergency landing.

The pilot, an elder man who'd asked Brook for an autograph for his daughter upon her
boarding of the plane, simply said, "None, the skies are clear for a 5 mile radius"

The Secretary of the Defense at last moved to stand beside her, speaking into the com in full
command, "Make contact with Air Force Two to act as a decoy. Air Force One has a top
speed of 600 miles per hour, even if the Joker has F-16 fighter planes after us they won't
catch up. Refuel inflight when necessary, if we need to, we must stay airborne indefinitely"

Brooklyn sighed when the captain agreed, relaxed slightly upon knowing they could travel
near the speed of sound if need be.

When she glanced back, the president didn't look too rattled, especially when he mentioned
he had Superman and Iron Man on speed dial if need be.

"You don't need to worry Miss Stark, everything is under control. There is nothing to fear"
the man beside her said suddenly before trying to gently escort Brook back to her seat as if
she were a porcelain doll.

But something did not seem right.

In her efforts to find the Joker, Damian had provided valuable insight about him. Damian had
acknowledged that the Joker was an advocator for violence, one with very few lines he was
not willing to cross. But as a planner, he was more of a go-with-the-flow sort of maniac.

The few times he'd planned big spectacles in Gotham, the unexpectedness of it all had been
like a slap to the face. Too much happening in too many places, with little patterns or logic.
No mercy or restraint.

That is why she stopped mid-aisle, hands secretly clutching the daggers hidden between her
skirts, looking to the door down the hall as if she were expecting the Clown Prince of Crime,
the Harlequin of Hate, the Ace of Knaves, to appear right then and there.
With a simple click of a button on her Stark Watch, Brooklyn summoned her suit closer just
in case, stood there as various men and women too looked around nervously.

Only no one ever came.

The Joker had not made an empty threat to instill fear, but he had not hijacked the plane to
take hostages either.

It seemed he cared very little about the lives in this plane, that his purpose was death rather
than power...

Once second, Brooklyn was reaching towards her seat, trying to fish out her phone from atop
the table. Then a loud boom shook the plane, and Brook did not even have time to register the
word 'bomb' in her mind before the roof of the plane cracked, tearing a hole so big that the
winds were quick to knock everyone unstable.

Brook barely had the mind to take hold of the seat as the plane trembled, could barely see
past her violently shifting hair and dress, as unfortunate bodies were flung from their seats or
the aisle, knocking against chairs and breaking pieces of the walls as they were flung out the
plane.

The winds were suddenly so violent Brooklyn could barely hear the screams around her,
could barely register the chaos around her as she tried her best to keep her grip strong. When
both pilots were flung past her, even her outstretched hand had been unable to save them as
they were flung outside into the clear skies.

With the few glances she was able to spare, Brook only managed to see more destruction
around her, the roof of the plane was almost gone, and the walls looked like they would
succumb to crumbling soon.

There were three people nearby, the president and two of his guards holding on to the top of a
chair not too far from her. But there were too many things coming loose, too many objects
swirling like tornadoes around them.

Trying to reach them would mean risking getting knocked out with an object to the head, or
worse, get flung out the plane.

Between the mass of free floating papers and cups, phones and bodies, smoke and furniture,
Brooklyn watched the horror unfold...realizing the chances of survival were growing slimmer
by the minutes.

Still, the panic did not set in just yet, fear was a distant call away as she held on for dear life
until she noticed the president let go of the chair, his guards following close by.

Brook was sure there was no one left around her, no one fighting to hold on. All twenty of the
elite and exclusive members who'd boarded the plane were likely free falling to their deaths.

She was spared the choice of staying or following along when what must've been a secondary
bomb went off somewhere near the pilot's cabin. Brooklyn could only watch in mild-horror
as her hands came loose from their place gripping the leg of a seat.

Just like the objects around her, Brook had no control as she was flung around in the mandate
of the wind currents. No matter what she did, how much she tried to grasp objects around her,
Brooklyn met the same fate as those before her, unable to stop her demise.

As objects got caught or ripped at her red dress skirts while being flung around the plane,
Brooklyn barely caught sight of a free chair before it smashed right into her right arm.

The pain was impossible to describe, but the currents around her made it impossible to open
up he mouth to scream without suffocating.

At this high an altitude, she already felt like suffocating regardless.

The pain was quickly followed by other objects crashing against her, and by her body hitting
things as it traveled up to the hole on the roof thanks to the loss of pressure and suction of air.

Just after a letter opener opened a small wound on her cheek, Brooklyn realized the winds
had carried her out of the plane, quickly pushing her dangerously close to the failing turbines,
then past the tail of the plane.

It was surreal to see herself leaving the plane behind, falling rapidly on her back, eyes locked
on the plane above that looked worse than she'd imagined. Bombs had somehow been placed
on the luggage compartments, like the top of the plane, the bottom was almost all gone.

Smoke was coming off the plane in large dark clouds even when fire was barely visible, but it
was now that she was out of the plane that Brooklyn could finally hear it....screams.

Doing her best to flip over, Brooklyn noticed all the bodies below her, some close by and
others nothing but small dots in the distance. She had no time to ponder on her odds of
survival, nor analyze the injuries on her body...all she could do was fall.

It only occurred to Brook that one of those distant dots was not falling but rising towards her
until it was close enough to make out the black tint of the metal against the cool sky. Not
another man in a tuxedo....but her suit.

She never thought summoning the suit would've saved her life from something more than
annoyance and boredom today. If she hadn't called it an hour ago...it may not have arrived on
time. The chance and odds of making that call were so astronomically minimal, Brooklyn had
to fight the urge to throw up.

The Stark watched as it opened up its back like a blooming flower, moving to hover below
her as it cradled her body inside. The displays of the suit came once the suit closed, showing
the rapid decrease of her elevation, pinpointing the bodies falling around her and warnings of
nearby debris.

It took a little longer than it should've to activate the thrusters of the suit so she no longer free
fell, even longer to ask GIL to assess the situation.
The A.I.'s calm Russian female voice announced, "You are 41,000 feet above ground level.
Breathing 100 percent oxygen above 40,000 feet for long will cause death. I've regulated
your pressure and oxygen levels to prevent hypoxic altitude sickness. You have various
injuries that need to be treated as soon as possible, shall I set a destination to the nearest
hospital?"

Brooklyn noticed upon the displays of her body that she had a badly bruised (perhaps
dislocated) her shoulder, which indeed throbbed painfully. Her ribs and collarbone had
received blows as well, but all the other incisions and scars around her were minimal enough
to ignore.

Screaming the pain away, Brooklyn forced herself to stay awake, to get oxygen back to her
lungs and to get her head working properly.

Unwilling to leave the others to die, with a shaky voice, Brooklyn asked GIL, "How many
people are in the air?"

The A.I. illuminated each person on the display, stating "Twenty. All alive"

Brook already knew the answer from carrying her friends to Kansas once or twice, feared the
disappointing calculation as she asked, "How many can I carry?"

GIL's voice was equally as grave as she stated, "Four"

The number felt like something hard pressed into her chest as she watched the figures
descend closer and closer to the ocean below them. Even so, her brain was running a
thousand miles per hour trying to decide on what to do.

It seemed like a cruel math problem brought out of the pages of a textbook. Twenty people in
the air, only able to carry four, and she didn't have enough time to make multiple trips to get
down people to safety...she could sacrifice her suit to one person, the president was the most
logical option, and hope that her flames were enough to make the descent easier on her even
with the oxygen problems that could affect her flames this high up.

If only she'd brought her Firestar suit and risked exposure. Using her flames WOULD expose
her identity in front of important government officials, sure, but they were all kissing death
right about now...

Or she could keep the suit, hope she could save four people....and live with the fact that
innocents had died around her once more, that she was unable to spare their lives once again,
just like that day with Duke's parents.

The reminder of that day was suffocating despite the easy flow of oxygen into her lungs...she
couldn't leave others to die again.

It was then, hovering in the air, that Ivan's deadly voice whispered in her head. It whispered
to save herself, guarantee her survival, to leave the others for dust and play the part of a
survivor...a victim amongst a tragedy.
But thats not who she was anymore.

She was a hero, and she was alone. This was HER problem to solve, and she wouldn't do so
valuing some lives above others.

Amidst her panic and worry, Brooklyn suddenly recalled a story dad once told her and
Yelena. A story of a time when dad had been faced with an eerily similar problem of too
many people falling off a plane.

The Barrel of Monkeys story.

An odd choice for a bedtime story, but despite not remembering the before or after of the fall
dad described, Brooklyn still remembered the tale dad had told her shortly after the events of
her acquired hero status.

It had been a story about beating the odds, the numbers and calculations. At the time, her and
Yelena had laughed themselves hoarse at dad's silly way of thinking, at the absurd luck he'd
had that day saving thirteen people with only one suit.

But now, maybe it could work. Hopefully dad hadn't made up the story for some motivational
purpose....

Hoping the controls in her suit were similar enough to dad's after all the updates she'd made,
Brooklyn quickly rushed down towards the closest falling body of a man she did not
recognize but who's badge had the name Joseph.

She wasted no time brining him close, trying to slow down his fall as she cradled him against
her.

Thankful for the speakers on the suit, Brooklyn didn't bother distorting her voice as she said
to the wide eyed man, "Joseph, calm down. I need you to hold on and when I swing by, you
need to hold on to the next person, ok?"

The man looked frightful, but nodded anyways as he clung to her suit.

Not bothering to waste precious seconds explaining her ridiculous plan, Brooklyn flew down
towards the closest person not too far down, one of the female flight attendants who seemed
to have lost her glasses and one of her heels.

Thankfully, despite Joseph's scream at their quick descent, fear did not impair him from
following orders (likely thanks to military background or just a level-headedness needed
when working so close to the president), because as soon as they got close, he stretched out
the hand that was not holding onto the suit.

The woman caught sight of them despite her flailing, and before the man could try and take
the woman's hand, Brooklyn said, "I'll electrocute you so you won't be able to open your
hand. Go ahead!"

The man nodded, and once the two clasped hands, Brooklyn hoped the electrocution would
work. Without wasting another valuable second, she flew towards the next cluster of people,
which just so happened to include the president.

"Ten thousand feet", GIL announced.

The president was quick to latch onto her back, and thankfully the suit's anti freeze
mechanisms were able to electrocute his hold on her well enough. One of the secret service
men took hold her other side like Joseph, and he was quick to catch on to what was going on
as he stretched out an arm for his colleagues.

Despite their fear, everyone performed surprisingly well, working together to save the others
lives until there were nearly eighteen people holding hands in her flanks. But the distance of
their decent was close, and two people remained.

"Six thousand feet"

Brooklyn tried not to panic as she flew as quickly as she dared to the remainder pilot and
woman. They were falling with their backs to the ocean, looking up at them with fear in their
eyes.

Those Brook already had a hold of were no longer screaming in fear of their lives, but in fear
of not getting there in time. Some were held on by their ankles, others locked hands, but upon
her request, they reached as far as they could as soon as she flew them close enough.

It was daunting, terrifying to see each time a reach was failed, how much closer her view of
the ocean became.

"Two thousand feet"

Brooklyn watched as the pilot caught onto her left flank, leaving only the right to try and get
the woman in the Air-Force suit.

"C'mon!!!" Brooklyn screamed, ignoring the pain across her body as she watched the two
people on the far right trying to lock hands.

"One thousand feet"

Just when Brooklyn was about to cry in frustration and start decelerating, the two locked
hands, and with that blessed miracle, she quickly ordered the boosters on her chest, legs, and
some on her back to activate to pull them up.

The pull was gradual to prevent injuries, but this close to the water, Brooklyn decided having
a few sprained arms was better than them all crashing onto the water at top speed. So she
pushed the thrusters to their limits, watching as they rose to the point that the bodies beside
her no longer fell, but hung at her sides.

As GIL had predicted, the suit could not take the weight, but their descent had been slowed
enough that when the suit started to get dragged down with the bodies, the bodies hitting the
water did so safely, as if they dove off a board at a pool.
Slowly, everyone fell once she reigned the electrocution. Brooklyn hovered above them for a
second, making sure everyone could swim before telling GIL to open the suit and fly back to
check if there were other survivors up on the plane.

With a panful splash across her injuries, Brooklyn fell to the cold water. Thankfully the
Pacific Ocean's warmth would not cause death by freezing, not when its waters had four
times the intense sun-heated surface area than other oceans (thanks MJ for that useless fact
that now brought surprising comfort).

Frostbite would not be her end, but the blood pooling from injuries around her was not
exactly reassuring. Did the pacific have sharks? Her dress certainly wouldn't have helped
with that at all....plus at least she still had her blades hidden just in case.

Everyone around her was cheering, thanking various gods, sending prayers or crying at the
sheer luck of their survival. Laying on her back, Brook watched her suit fly up to the burning
plane, sending a silent thanks to her dad and his need for bragging about old missions.

Brooklyn did not notice the president approach her treading waters until she heard his deep
voice beside her say, "Miss Stark...maybe you should be the one to follow your father's heroic
footsteps"

Despite her injuries and his own, the two locked eyes. Everyone around them was scratched
up, some with similar sprains or broken bones from getting ejected out of the plane, but they
seemed happy if not a bit shocked.

One look around, and Brook was able to confirm she'd saved them all.

With a surprising chuckle despite all that had happened, Brooklyn said, "You are probably the
first person to ever say that to me, Mr. President"

The two shared a brief smile before Brooklyn watched her suit ascend, nothing but a speck of
black in the sky, arriving at the plane...just as it blew up. The noise and blinding light from
the explosion was enough to get rid of the cheers and joy around them.

As they watched the debris fall above, she realized they were now stranded in an unknown
spec of the ocean. The suit had been their only way to call for help, no one had their phones
(which likely blew up with everything else). But with so many satellites and messages sent
out before the chaos, help was likely already on its way.

Worrying about her own life now would be idiotic...and she could mourn the loss of her
faithful suit later.

All they could do was watch the fruits of the Joker's work as Brooklyn noticed the faint blue
smoke coming from the sky that indicated the bombs had to be alien tech...likely why they
weren't located with the normal inspections of the plane.

Brooklyn laid there in the ocean, torn between counting her blessings and worrying that an
attempt at killing the president wasn't the only thing the Joker had planned, even if such a
plan was ambitious enough as it was.
With only a distant speck of land in the distance, all they could do was tread and wait for the
coast guard to come find the place the airplane's transmission ended.

All she could do was pray the Joker's punchline had been reserved for them.

*******

Damian Wayne POV-

An ocean away from Brooklyn, Damian wasn't surprised the private room of the Gotham
Hospital was not large enough to occupy his whole family comfortably. They were too many,
and since all his siblings had insisted on attending this gender reveal...it was a miracle there
was even a room of this size to begin with.

Umi was in the middle of said room, laying on her back with monitors and screens around
her as Stephanie and Duke played with the gel the nurse had put on her belly to better look at
the baby within.

Damian stood dutifully by his umi's side, even when his gaze occasionally locked on the TV
at the edge of the room, which detailed minor crimes happening in Gotham. If some issue
arose, they'd already established a list of just who would be forced to take care of the crime
while the others stayed.

Drake had drawn the short straw.

But today's news were not concerning at all, mostly the crimes occurring in the City of
Sinners were mild enough for the police to deal with. In fact, the most nerve wracking thing
was not the news, but father's and Dick's nervous pacing.

For some reason, the gender of this fetu-child was an important milestone, something
everyone was looking forward to except for those two. From what Damian gathered, Dick
was nervous due to the fact that in a few months, he and Kori would have to go through this
with their own unborn offspring.

Father was just nervous about everything, as was customary.

He'd gone out as Batman all of last night and hunted down even the smallest of criminals to
try and ease his worry. It was almost laughable.

As for everyone else, the girls wanted the child to be their gender, the boys wanted another
brother. Damian's thoughts on the matter were rather mild...

He honestly didn't care.

Most misinterpreted that when he said it, thinking he did not care for the child enough or at
all. In truth, what Damian didn't care about whether or not it was a boy or a girl. He'd protect
the child the same despite gender, so why would it matter?

At least in a few minutes, the nurse would come back with the overly elaborate results, which
included a 3D model of the baby for them to hang up on a wall somewhere around the manor.
That had been Pennyworth's request.

"If it's a boy, you all owe me fifty bucks" Jason said, seated beside Pennyworth where various
magazines on pregnancies were being lazily perused by him. Despite the outburst from most
of his siblings, Pennyworth seemed too nervous to scold any of them, even father was
looking a little pale.

The nurse had told them that all looked to be going fine with umi's pregnancy, but the tests
they'd done would reveal anything she might've missed. No one in this family was an
optimist anymore, they always expected the worst out of a situation, which made them good
vigilantes but overly weary civilians...or so umi pointed out.

Fixing the lapels of his black jacket, Damian briefly pondered what life would be like with a
small human around the manor, wondered if his unplanned 'baby training' from school would
be enough to ensure the baby would be properly cared for should Damian find himself stuck
babysitting it one day.

Surely it wouldn't be difficult, besides, Damian could always call his beloved should such a
day arise. Together, the two of them could accomplish anything. The thoughts of her caused
him to look down at his phone for the third time since his arrival to the hospital.

Brooklyn was on her way to Japan, had been fretting over her speech for the Climate
Conference for a while since she boarded the plane.

Her last message had almost brought a smile to his face, which he quickly stifled down so no
one in the room would notice.

I swear, everyone here is driving me mad. I can't wait to get back home for that promised day
off with you.

Leave it to Brooklyn to find some of the most powerful people in the government boring.
Despite her annoyances, Damian knew she would preform her task perfectly. Jon had already
mentioned he'd fly Damian over to Peter's so they could all watch the speech tomorrow as
one, hopefully able to video call Brook before she went on stage to support her.

Making sure his phone was not visible to the others, Damian typed back, I'll see you soon
enough, my beloved.

On the actual group chat, Harry was still going on about how being asked to go on the
presidential plane was 'a flex' (which Ned and Tanya seemed to agree with), even when
Brooklyn mentioned there wasn't much that was impressive about it.

It was as he turned off his phone that the door to the room opened to reveal the nurse from
earlier.

The woman was short, young, looked to the unfamiliar faces in the room with questions at
the tip of her tongue, but still she did not ask who all the 'strangers' gathered today were.
Since father owned the hospital, he was able to guarantee secrecy or their arrival as well as
the gender of the baby. Only Dick, Tim, Duke, and Damian were known as public
Waynes....Jason as a family friend if anyone asked.

The nurse looked almost petrified by the large crowd, standing before the Waynes, the hands
holding onto the folder with the results were almost shaking.

When father came to stand on umi's other side of the hospital bed, the nurse said meekly,
"Mr. Wayne, it seems the baby is in great health. Everything is going well with the baby's
development. So far this is, and will be, a smooth pregnancy for your wife"

Everyone in the room instantly relaxed, even Damian felt his own shoulders fall slightly at
the reassuring words. Umi was fine, not dying. The future child was also safe....pleasant news
indeed.

Despite Stephanie being nothing but a stranger in the room, she whined to the nurse, "What
about the baby's gender! Thats the money maker!"

Neither father or Pennyworth scolded Steph on her impatience, not when similar curiosity
shone in their eyes.

Damian suddenly felt a hand touch his own as the woman opened up the folder, only to find
umi was holding onto his and father's hands. Everyone else hand moved to stand around their
mother, holding onto her in one way or another as they waited for the nurse to speak the
results.

The teen found himself squeezing her hand back as the pages in the folder were perused by
the nurse.

Then just as her mouth opened to reveal the gender, the TV behind the woman suddenly
displayed a change from the boring news screen. The flash of light caught everyone's eye,
and the breaking news display immediately had Barbara turning up the volume, effectively
cutting off the nurse.

The Wayne's watched, getting ready to send Tim out to whatever need to be taken care of
when they saw something they did not expect.

The screen did not display the familiar streets of Gotham, it showed a clip likely taken from a
shitty phone, pointed up at the blue sky.

There amongst the clouds was an unmistakable plane, and though it was distant, it was clear
what large plane it was.

"Air Force One has sent out a distress signal on its way to Japan. We don't know much yet,
only that the president, his closest advisors, and Heiress Brooklyn Stark are aboard. There
appears to be much debris falling from the plane" the news anchor said, voice steady despite
her terrified eyes as she added, "There is no telling what the situation is like right now. The
top and bottom of the plane appear destroyed, and no one is answering the distress calls that
are-"
Damian didn't realize he'd taken a few steps closer to the TV until he stopped, almost jerked
back as the shaking live feed showed the plane completely blowing up.

The person taking the video screamed, as well as those around the stranger.

The news anchor was suddenly panicking, looking to her colleagues behind the cameras as
she nervously announced the death of their president.

Damian wanted to scream, felt himself stop breathing for a few seconds in which his mind
had not yet processed that...that Brooklyn had just...

No. Impossible. Unacceptable. Irreversible...

Damian barely had the sense that his siblings had moved closer to the TV, leaving him to
stare at nothing but their backs. Good, he didn't think he could restrain his anger if he saw
Brooklyn's delicate and beautiful photo appear on the screen, if a memoir came up.

The thing was, Damian had feared for Brooklyn's life for a long time now, had promised
himself that as long as he was able, no harm would come to her. He'd been prepared for a
fight, a rescue, but the young Wayne had never expected this...this gut wrenching feeling of
helplessness.

She'd needed him, and he hadn't been there. This had been something neither of them could
fight, and Damian wasn't sure which of the dozens of emotions going through his mind to
focus on.

He couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

Everyone was too distracted at the news to notice his emotions, all but two people.

Jason was still beside umi, and it was him who Damian was surprised to see grief on. It took
a while in this numb state of his, but Robin finally realized just why Jason's locked eyes on
the TV were so full of despair.

Brooklyn had been a friend to him. Arguably his only friend.

Jason Todd, the greatest annoyance of Damian's life, was the only one in the room that had
grief closest to Damian's. He was the only person who might understand a sliver of what the
young teen felt right now, the only person in this room who held no hatred for the Stark.

Damian had lost a partner, a confidant, a steading presence in his life....and Jason had lost a
friend.

Beside him, umi's own expressions were guarded, but she too seemed upset. One of her hands
covered her mouth, the other rested atop her pregnant belly.

Damian recalled umi had once mentioned having friends in high places, people in the
government she'd met due to her old job.
Has she lost friends too? Is that why she looked ready to cry? Is that why she looked to him
for guidance with those pained eyes?

Damian didn't approach either one of them, didn't move from his spot, not when his hand
rested inside his pocket. His phone was inside, where his last....that had been his last
conversation with her...

Had he said enough? Of course not, there were thousands of things Damian had never dared
to say, a million more he'd been looking forward to experience together...but he'd failed.

He never imagined he'd be too far apart from his beloved, that it wouldn't be a fist or weapon
that finally took her away from him. Damian had not expected an accident to bridge their
lives apart.

Only it wasn't an unfortunate game of chance.

Amidst his anger, grief, silence, and complete numbness, Damian briefly set it aside when he
heard a very familiar laugh in the room.

The Joker's laugh.

Faster than possible, Damian whirled towards the TV, carelessly pushing some of his siblings
aside as he beheld the Joker on the screen.

Though his hearing was not at its best in this state, he could still catch a few of the words said
by that son of a bitch.

It's the Joker's day!.....Destruction.....no heroes.....All it takes is one bad day to reduce the
sanest man alive to lunacy.....first the president....now the world.

It was when Damian couldn't utter a single word that Jason spoke a million. He yelled at
father, said they should hunt down the Joker, make him pay. He yelled that they should go to
the wreckage to find survivors, even when Pennyworth gently explained no one would
survive that fall even if they survived the explosion.

Pennyworth spoke the logical truth, but Damian for once did not care to hear it. He would
still go there, demand a jet, and rush over to the scene. Even if he'd have to dive days upon
days through debris at the bottom of the ocean, he'd find her. Maybe he'd threaten the mighty
Aquaman to help. Because there was no way she was...gone. He'd get her, crawl his way to
the nearest Lazarus Pit if need be.

Damian didn't have time to let the anger sink in, to process the Joker had just killed the
person in Damian's life that was treasured beyond reason... because the building suddenly
began shaking around them as alarms went off.

Outside the room, Damian could hear one word being shouted over and over again.

Bombs.
His family sprung into action with an ease Damian suddenly found himself envying. But he
understood what needed to be done, people were in danger, and as much as he wanted to run
to the darkest corner in this world to shout until his throat was sore....

As Robin, he couldn't do that.

Dust fell atop their heads, lights flickering and swaying with the explosions of more bombs.
And it was the sight of his family moving to protect Selina and Pennyworth that finally made
Damian's feet move as he joined them, and as a group, they left the room.

The Gotham Hospital was one of the biggest if not the most popular in the city, built and
funded by father years ago. The Joker had once targeted its sister location across the city,
blown it up for 'fun'. Of course he'd choose to destroy this one too, it probably didn't even
have anything to do with them being here since they arrival was a secret.

Damian tried to shove down the anger, focus on the fact that the Joker was not taking any
more people he cared about. So he stayed by umi's side as the others split up to help guide as
many people out the building.

Though Damian remained close to Selina and Pennyworth as they made their way down the
halls, he still checked every room they passed, even when chunks of the roof fell nearby, or
when the walls grew branching cracks upon each loud shake of the building.

He gathered as many people as possible, elderly, children, the sick and injured. The Waynes
both directed, helped carry, or pulled people on hospital beds as they made their way to the
exit.

Damian was on autopilot, ignoring everything but the struggles of going down flights of
stairs with dozens of people crowded on them. Even when he was shoved, Damian only made
sure those under his care not be injured with each step.

Once he was steps away form the exit, Damian stopped to guide people out, in some cases
having to carry or shove people out of the lobby were the ground was already cracking open.
It didn't help that the lights had gone out, or that Gotham never did well under panic.

The bombs were going off all over the place, some close enough to smell the phosphorus and
feel the heat from, others far above in the upper levels that to him, it was nothing but distant
smoke and flames.

Once Damian finished carrying a cluster of infants from the cancer unit, he noted umi and
Pennyworth were nearby. That they had not left the building and likely wouldn't until
everyone from the family did.

Every Wayne arrived back eventually, helping people out...just as a nearby bomb went off.

It must've hit a support beam, the last one standing by the looks of the wrecked lobby.

Damian quickly realized that umi was too slow to run in her condition, that Pennyworth was
too old to be any faster. He realized all of this as it became apparent that the eight floors
above them were about to come crashing down.

Ignoring the injuries he must've gotten from the pushing and the constant falling objects,
Damian rushed over to the two just as his family did. None of them had to say a word, not
when they panicked, running quickly to shield the two with their bodies just as the first large
chunks of the roof descended around them.

For once, Damian did not flinch away when he felt Jason and Dick's bodies stand beside him,
close enough that they arms linked when they made their protective bubble around their
pregnant mother and the person they all considered their grandfather.

Even Duke, not having been in the family long, he too rushed over to hover his body over
umi's.

One second, the space around them was breaking apart, the rumbling making them crash to
their knees even as they kept their human shield up.

Then darkness.

It took a second for Damian to realize they were miraculously saved, stuck between two large
pieces of concrete that worked as a sort of tent around them. It was minutes later when the
falling and crashing noises outside seized, that they all released a breath of relief at the fact
that the concrete above them had held.

It was father's phone light that finally let him see they were all alive.

Save for umi and Pennyworth, everyone was a bit scratched up, bloody, had taken a few hits
at some point or another. Damian himself felt blood flowing down his forehead, felt one of
his shoulders had taken a nasty hit.

But they were all alive.

Most had dropped their phones and belongings earlier in the room, couldn't do anything but
sit there, looking to father for his orders, for a plan of action.

"I contacted the police and paramedics when this started. Our location will be sent to them
soon, even though I'm sure they're already digging their way towards us, but it might take a
while. I suggest no one speak too much or freak out. We need to be mindful of oxygen
preservation just in case" father said, trying to sound reassuring even when his large body
hugged Selina close, checking her for any injuries despite the fact that she kept reminding
them all she was well, that she was pissed they'd risk their lives like that for her.

"And afterwards?" Jason asked while helping Pennyworth rest against the concrete, "Then
what do we do?"

Father frowned, contours of his face illuminated by the small light as he said, "Then we help
Gotham back on its feet"

Jason argued, father countered, everyone else were either quietly watching or shaking off
tears that made no sense given how many times they'd brushed past death. Most were looking
to him, as if expecting Damian to complain over his injuries or something.

But Damian didn't bother with that conversation or the looks from his family, not when he
moved to the furthest edge of the small space they were granted by sheer luck. He was
pretending to look for a way out, running his hands along the warm concrete slabs as if
searching for holes.

It was once he was far enough from the glow of the cellphone that he rested his bloodied and
pained forehead on the concrete and let out a quiet sigh. He'd almost died, his family had
almost met that fate too...

A part of him didn't even know what he would do once he got out. He didn't know how many
dozens died in the presidential plane, how many hundreds died in this hospital. There were
likely people trapped under rubble, others long gone after hopefully being granted a quick
death.

Damian felt devoid of life like them, in that darkness, he let his fists shake freely, ground his
teeth almost painfully, let himself feel all the pain from his injuries if only to distract himself
from the rather inevitable fact that his beloved was gone...

But even that did not help in the least. The solemn silence was no friend.

****

Peter Parker POV-

Peter had felt fear many times in his life.

Sometimes it had been the fear of facing an enemy, others sillier like when giving a
presentation at school or worrying over saying the right thing to MJ so she wouldn't think he
was a nerd or a looser.

This fear, the fear of loss...it was like an old friend, a poorly patched up wound from years
ago when Uncle Ben had died, when his parents died too. The thing about old wounds, is that
when they reopened...god it hurt.

Peter was seated on the couch, felt Aunt May's arms around his shoulders, heard her sobs in
time with his own as they stared at the TV before them.

The day had been so normal, so calm. MJ and Ned had come over for a movie marathon, and
minutes ago, they'd been sending memes to Brooklyn, eating popcorn, laughing about
anything and everything their silly minds could think of to keep boredom at bay.

Then the TV had shown the Joker, they'd heard his speech...then they watched Brooklyn die.
They'd screamed, loud and unrestrained, but even that could not measure up to the pain they'd
felt when that plane exploded into nothing.

Uselessly, Peter had called Brooklyn's phone, and with each voicemail, his heart had broken
further.
Moving past the popcorn scattered on the floor, Aunt May had come to take the phone from
his shaking hands. She'd hugged the three teens close, sobbed with them.

Then seconds later, the news had shifted to stories of places around the world being targeted,
blown up just as that plane had.

The three teens had frozen upon seeing the massive Gotham Hospital pop up on the screen.
Peter had begged, fell to his knees as the building collapsed on itself in a grand display of
destruction.

Damian had mentioned he was there...and the news anchor only confirmed it when she
mentioned Bruce Wayne had contacted the authorities before the building collapsed.

Tear stained survivors were interviewed, confirmed the Waynes and a few strangers with
them had saved as many people as they could. Most also confirmed that they'd seen it with
their own eyes as the building collapsed atop them to try and save Mrs. Wayne.

Damian, their friend...he couldn't be...not him too.

The news only got bleaker after that. All across the country, hospitals were blown up,
attempts on the president-less White House and Pentagon barely stopped.

Past his grief, the salty tears, and the aching of his heart, Peter's instincts that always seemed
to alert of nearby dangers were going off like a loud morning alarm.

He knew what he had to do.

Prying himself from Aunt May's arms, Peter rushed to his room and despite feeling
lightheaded, put on the suit in record time. He wasted no time moving towards the balcony
near the living room, intent of going out to try to save Queens as best he could, even as tears
clung to the fabric of his mask.

A mask Mr. Stark had made...a man who must be lost in grief...someone Peter would not
know how to face after this.

"Peter! Are you crazy!" Aunt May suddenly said, throwing her glasses to the floor as she
rushed to him with fresh tears in her eyes, "Please don't go, it's dangerous out there, damn it!"

Sure enough, from the balcony view, Peter could see a variety of distant fires, he could hear
wails of panic, see smoke rise up to cover the once clear skies.

The truth was, Peter did not want to go out there.

He was part of the Dynasty, a GROUP of heroes meant to go out there and keep this city
save. Two were gone, and the world did not even know that yet. No one down there knew the
now...dead...Brooklyn and Damian were Firestar and Robin.

It felt wrong to go out there, would feel even more so when their masked personas would not
join him. But it's what they would do. Damian must've seen the news of Brook's death before
he met his end, and even if the two were barely friends, he must've grieved.
Yet, Damian had still tried to save people at that hospital.

So Peter, quickly hugged his aunt, breathed in her scent of roses and the baked cookies she
always ate in secret. He hugged her tight, felt the sobs lodge in his throat as he rubbed her
back comfortingly.

Close to her ear, Peter whispered, "I have to go out there...I can't let others die. You know
that"

Aunt May nodded once, twice, then she finally let him go, moving towards Ned and MJ, who
were clinging close to one another. Neither one begged Peter to stay, knew he wouldn't.

Instead, MJ said, "Be careful...I...we can't loose you too"

Peter jumped out the window before giving himself enough time to ponder staying to protect
them.

They were safe, safer than anyone out in the city...boy had be been right about that.

Queens was in chaos....for an hour, Peter had to rush from building to building helping people
get out into the streets. Those stuck on higher floors in large skyscrapers, Peter had swung
down to safety. The citizens that were unfortunate enough to come across stray followers of
the Joker parading along the streets were saved by Spider-man rushing to their aid.

Hospitals. Schools. Orphanages. Parks.

Peter worked past his exhaustion, refilled his web shooters as often as possible, worked past
his own sobs as he brought others to safety two of his friends would never be granted.

Peter felt heavy, weak, like he wanted to cry for days...but he never stopped.

At some point, Peter caught sight of a derailed train up above on the tracks which should've
been inaccessible due to construction. That had been the toughest problem to solve.

The train was going too fast, control area completely blown up. Peter had no choice but to
jump in front of it to try and slow it down with sheer strength. Though he estimated he could
lift ten tons or so as his max, the weight of an elephant or a jet, it wasn't enough to bring the
train to a stop.

Peter struggled, dug his heels into the tracks with his back to the front of the train. People
were standing on the other side of the door, watching. He could hear their prayers, their
screams...

In a further effort, Peter shot two webs towards two buildings beside him, held them tight
with all his strength as the trains velocity made it harder to hang on.

His back was killing him, but behind it was a train full of dozens of people.

The webs stretched, the train kept going forward, but eventually the webs would go taught,
and it would come down to Peter's unnatural strength. If that wasn't enough of a struggle,
Peter could now see where the tracks ended up ahead.

If he recalled well, he'd seen those tracks end from down below on his walks to Delmar's.
Those tracks would send them crashing down a lengthy fall, killing everyone on the train as
well as whoever might be unlucky enough to be in the train's crash-landing path below.

Peter screamed in pain as the taught-ness of the webs became a noticeable ache, fought to
keep his outstretched hands leaning against the train from letting go. The windows and metal
of the train on the edges and beside his arms were breaking and bending with the effort, made
Peter scream all the louder.

The fabric of the arms of his suit was tearing too, but Peter fought with all he had to hang on
as he felt the train slowing ever so slightly. He thought of his fallen friends, focused on his
anger on the Joker, on his promise to not let anyone die under his watch today.

For Brooklyn, the ex-assassin with graceful ballet twirls who would fight tooth and nail till
the end. For Damian, the ex-assassin with a soft spot for animals who would do the
inhumanly possible for victory.

It was for them that Peter worked past the strain and pain. It was them Peter thought of as the
train slowed. He barely had any strength left to stay awake as the train tipped ever so slightly
at the edge of the unfinished tracks. It wasn't enough to fall, only for the front train cart to
hang awkwardly halfway in the air.

Spent, Peter thought he might fall to his death once he let go of his webs.

But then he felt people pulling him inside the train, felt many hands gently carrying him,
passing him above them like those crazy rockstars at concerts. They saved him. He barely
heard their whispers, only felt as they laid him down somewhere safe, surrounding him with
concern.

Peter tried his best to whisper he was fine, but it took a few minutes until he managed to
stand on his feet with the help of an elderly man and a cluster of children.

He heard their thanks, knew they couldn't see the faint smile behind the mask, but eventually
he left them to go try and save as many others as possible. Even when his muscles ached and
swinging hurt, Peter followed his instincts towards the next location....the Queen's police
station.

It was all a blur to him afterwards, mind and soul still tired from the effort it took to stop the
train. There was a bomb in there, Peter could hear it, so he set about evacuating as many as
possible. Thankfully because of the chaos outside, most cops were out of the building, he
only had to save Tanya's and Cassie's dad who were still getting people out of there.

They had been the last, refusing to leave until everyone was out, and Peter had to break open
a few windows and carry the men to get out safely in time.

The building was nothing but a wrecked site minutes later as an alien bomb sucked in the
rubble like a black whole.
Peter was listening to the police's endless thanks when he felt a body hug him from behind,
familiar smell of Channel perfume and hairspray filling his tired senses. When Peter turned,
Tanya was looking up at him in tears, fussing over his very visible injuries of varying
degrees, thanking him over and over for saving her dad.

Said dad was organizing groups to go help out those in need. It seemed that the bomb reports
had stopped, now all that was needed was medical care and dead body searches.

It gave him and Tanya a bit of privacy, and with everyone rushing to their police cars, the two
teens stood in the middle of the street, hugging one another as soon as Tanya painfully
whispered Damian's and Brooklyn's names, her makeup running down her face with every
fresh tear.

All the grief Peter had been trying to hold back crashed onto him then.

"I know....I know" was all he was able to say past his own sobs.

Amidst her hiccuping and tears, Tanya whispered, "Harry is already at your place with MJ
and Ned. Pete, we need to find that son of a bitch...make him pay"

There was no need to clarify whom Tanya spoke of....and thought Peter was usually the first
to advocate for peace, he couldn't find it in himself to say a thing. He could only remember
the last time they'd all been together, yesterday after school smiling as if nothing was wrong.

They'd find the Joker....what came after that would not be death, but he'd pay for this.

Since there was no one else in need of saving, at least by police standards, Peter secretly
carried Tanya and the two swung back to his apartment where they expected the team to
gather.

Aunt May did not mind....did not bother to stop them as she heard their gathering for justice
against the Joker. She made them tea, coffee, healed Peter's injuries....but she did not stop
them.

It didn't take long for Ned to come back from across the hall. They all knew Yelena was at the
compound, but they'd wanted to check she was not home.

If they were finding the Joker, they needed Yelena. She must be burning with grief over the
loss of her sister, they couldn't even imagine how heartbroken she was, the two Starks
were...are...were inseparable.

They'd assumed thats why she hadn't called at first...and Peter's heart only sank again once
they heard the answering voice of one of the lobby workers at the Avenger's compound.

Peter wasn't sure thanks to the ringing in his ears, but he could've sworn he heard as all their
hearts broke at the news that their friend was fighting for her life.

*****

Yelena Stark POV-

Yelena.

Her sestra had given her that name.

She'd never taken the honor for granted, had treasured each gift her family had bestowed
upon with nothing but kindness to a girl that perhaps was not worthy of it at the time.

She was standing still in the kitchen at the compound, and past the blinding ache in her heart,
she still felt the glass shards of the cup she'd shattered remained by her feet. The only thing
that managed to bring Yelena's attention away from the TV was an arm on her shoulder, one
that slowly turned her around.

It was her otets.

He looked...Yelena wasn't shedding any tears yet, but Tony looked exactly how Yelena felt
inside. The mighty Iron Man looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack, like those he
got at night sometimes. He was shaking, crying, made him look older than he was.

Behind him, mom was trying to comfort Harley as they sat at the kitchen table. It was a mess
of hugs and tears that made Yelena uncertain of just who was comforting who.

The rest of the Avengers were further in the distance, standing by the large TV in the living
space. Natasha was just shaking her head, leaning on Steve. The two widows locked eyes
past the bodies of Scott, Rhodey, Clint, Sam, and Vision (Wanda had left the room as soon as
the news popped up).

The two creations of Ivan said a thousand words with just one look, they mourned they way
they knew how. By planning.

Yelena was sure that if she just sat here all day she may just collapse, and Brooklyn was
worth more than that.

In a manner of seconds, by Nat's instruction, everyone was getting ready to either go to the
crash site or save civilians. No one gave a shit about the ankle bracelets that would prevent
them from leaving undetected...no one cared at all.

It had been hard to ask mom and Harley to stay, but whatever they found in the wreckage was
not for the faint of heart. Happy had hugged the two, actually shed a tear or two before
promising dad they would be taken care of.

That was enough for dad, Steve, Wanda, and Yelena to go get changed. Natasha had wanted
to go, had given them all a deadly look as if she was ready to fight for her spot in that
Quinjet. But Steve had been right, her training in neutralizing bombs was needed around the
country right now.

Yelena didn't even recall putting on her suit, strapping her weapons in her room at the
compound. She could only think of all memories past with Brooklyn and Damian. It seemed
wrong to think they were both gone merely minutes apart...though given their rather unusual
bond, perhaps the forces of the universe could not imagine seeing what one's grief would
look like without the other.

Yelena decided she would not let herself grieve either one until bodies were buried, until the
Joker was found and killed. Perhaps she'd kill Ivan just for spite, Lex Luthor too.

Once she met up with her group in the hallway, she noticed they'd all wiped away their grief,
like her they tried to keep it at bay for what was to come, assuming they could even find...

"I just got word from the Justice League. They're mourning the loss of the Waynes, but they
have agreed to help around the world as quickly as they can" dad said, pressing buttons on his
Stark watch likely to give the information to the others.

Steve was on Yelena's other side, walking unhurriedly to give them time to catch up as he
replied, "We lost Brooklyn, they lost Batman and his family. We should put differences aside
to get as much done as possible"

Yelena only clutched her weapons tighter at the words, she screamed to herself mentally that
an al Ghul would not die so easily, that Brooklyn wouldn't either. She wanted to believe in
miracles even when she'd seen a plane explode and a hospital collapse...what a fool she'd
become.

Just as Steve was giving out instructions on their search, at which Wanda's power pulsed with
grief, they stopped mid stride when they heard it...there was shouting downstairs.

"Friday" dad urged, to which the A.I. replied, "The Joker's followers have broken past the
main gates, sir. You have fifty incoming hostiles"

Thinking of mom and Harley, Yelena did not even waste a second debating what to do as she
rushed out to the front lawns with everyone in tow. Once they made it past the chaos of the
lobby and past the main doors, Yelena almost fell back at the sight of the trees burning, the
grass stomped down by a large amount of people in Joker masks coming closer with alien
weapons in hand.

The SHIELD trainees and agents were already making their way, but Yelena almost asked
them to stand back. She wanted to fight them all, to watch them suffer even when she knew
the Joker would not mourn their defeat.

All that grief turned into anger, enough anger that she wanted to scream at the heavens with
it. Said anger only faltered when she got too close to a fire, remembered her sister, then
continued running with an ache in her chest.

Looking around her, it seemed her family was just as eager to get rid of this little problem, so
as one, they ran into the fray, Wanda and dad flying above them until they finally collided
with the enemy forces.

Yelena used her bo staff to shock and injure as many people as she could around her. She was
cold and calculating in her moves, was almost careless when it came to making sure no one
was being killed.
She could only see red with every attack, watch as a shield took down enemies around her, as
red magic levitated weapons off the hands of others...as beams from dad took out those
getting too close to the compound.

The enemy was not trained for this, they were not expert fighters. Their only advantage were
their numbers.

Still Yelena fought with all her might, forgetting her vows not to kill...only to be reminded by
memories of her internship, the ways she'd sworn to save lives in that Hospital. She
remembered Brooklyn and Damian standing before the team uttering the mantra, Justice not
Vengeance, the heart of the Dynasty.

So she injured severely instead.

At times she imagined those she attacked were the Joker himself, or Lex and Ivan, anything
to ease the pain on her chest. Said distraction cost her.

Yelena had been so busy fighting that she hadn't stopped to think why the Joker would waste
soldiers like this. It had all been a distraction, perhaps a cruel joke, but it had all been to get
bomb inside the compound....to do here what he was doing across the country.

They'd all missed someone activating a bomb no larger than a book, and Yelena only caught
sight of it when its beeping became louder. It was only a few feet from her, in the middle of
the once peaceful field now filled with blood and flames.

She'd barely had time to shout a warning to the other when the bomb went off, sending her
flying across the ground along with many SHIELD agents, but even more of the Joker's
people.

Yelena landed with a harsh thud, couldn't move as a masked enemy approached her slowly,
not when she felt her arm resting limply by her side, her ribs burning with pain.

The approaching enemy had a peculiar gun in hand, alien tech no doubt. In Yelena's pain, she
could do nothing to stop him as he aimed...and hit his mark right along her leg.

Instantly, the pain from before increased as she felt herself being electrocuted. Even with her
high pain tolerance that had allowed her to remain conscious...there was nothing she could do
about this.

Her last sights of the battlefield were of more bombs going off by the last remaining
followers of the Joker, of dad flying quickly to her side.

Maybe she would die from this pain, Yelena was not sure what this weapon truly did. But she
was Russian, a Black Widow, and both of those did not fear death....especially when sestra
and a member of her friend group were on the other side.

So despite the shouting and the noise, Yelena closed her eyes and only 'hung on' because
dad's distant voice begged her to.

*******
Jon Kent POV-

Jon was flying faster than he ever had in his life.

He'd left his grandma's house without looking back as soon as he saw the news of Brooklyn
and Damian's death. He'd barely had the thought to put his suit on as soon as he realized he'd
be flying to Gotham, even when his body began shaking at the thought of what he'd find.

It had been a calm day, Jon had been eating with his family, fighting his twin sisters for fries
with the claim that with his birthday being tomorrow, he had special privileges. Then the TV
changed from a western classic to something much more painful.

Jon...he'd never lost anyone, had never thought such a thing would happen to his friends,
especially when he'd seen them all grow stronger by the day.

Death was not meant to be for them, they were too young, just starting out their journey.

They were all supposed to be a team for many years to come, to graduate, live out their lives.
Jon was supposed to one day help Damian work up to courage to go further with his
relationship with Brook. Jon was supposed to take Yelena out on a hundred dates. Harry,
Brook, and Damian were supposed to become the most powerful heirs of their time.

They were supposed to go to school tomorrow in Damian's old jeep and Harry's elegant
convertible...Jon's best friend was supposed to be grumpy in the morning until he got coffee,
Brooklyn was supposed to complain about the upcoming school dance on the way there.

Jon didn't care that his flying was unsteady, that his tears brushed past his skin towards the
clouds below him. He sobbed, screamed, begged, all until he caught sight of Gotham city,
buildings aflame, people running on the streets.

He wanted to rush to the hospital to find his friend, his godparents...his second family. But as
soon as people caught sight of the symbol on his chest and the cape around his shoulder, they
begged for help.

Jon couldn't run from it, their pleas, so he helped as many people as he could on his way to
the hospital. He helped people out of buildings, fought the Joker's allies, stopped driver-less
cars from crushing others, held parts of collapsing buildings up as best he could.

He never stayed too long in one place once he realized the people there were safe.

Civilians had to be stopped too because Gotham didn't react to chaos very well. Even if they
weren't with the Joker, some took the opportunity to go ransack banks, steal from stores, even
some citizens faced unnecessary death trying to kill the Joker's guys to show a bit of strength.

Jon had to save as many as he could, even when the breaking news from earlier was still
playing in his head. He'd seen the plane blow up, and before he could work past the rising
sobs in his chest, he'd seen the hospital collapse and....he'd screamed a sound-wave across
Kansas in his grief.
It was probably an hour or so later that Jon finally made it to the hospital, or at least the
outskirts of it. The police weren't letting anyone in, the whole place was fenced up.

The air was grey, the ground cracked, and the sight of all that rubble...it made Jon want to
throw up.

It suddenly became too much, too many people, such loud voices, too many heartbeats and
screams. It felt like when he was five years old again and didn't know how to control his
super hearing...he felt like a lost child again.

Jon collapsed to the ground, clutching his ears tight as he whispered incoherences, begging
everyone to quiet down even when he knew the problem was not with them but within him.

Then a large body hugging his own helped the voices quiet down, pa's familiar voice coaxing
him through the motions, begging him to focus on one noise and one noise only.

So he did, amidst the now gathering crowds around them at the sight of two familiar red
capes, Jon focused on the sound of his phone, beeping with an incoming message. It helped
ease the panic, but his hands were still shaking when he hesitantly reached for it, saw they
were messages from the team asking for him.

Jon was about to rush to Yelena's side if only because he knew being here had been a
mistake, and knowing she'd need him now more than ever with Brook's passing...until he saw
Peter's last message.

Jon. I just called the compound, they were attacked. Lena was....she was badly injured by a
bomb and alien gun. Mr. Stark doesn't know how bad her injuries are, they won't let him into
the room while surgery is going on. Jon, I'm so sorry. Please join us when you can, we're here
for you, and we need each other more than ever.

Jon barely felt it as he crushed his phone with ease.

Seconds ago, he'd been overwhelmed by noise, now he heard nothing but the beat of his own
heart fighting to escape his ribcage. He didn't care who was watching, not when he began
thinking of all he couldn't do with Yelena if she died, how he couldn't save her in time.

Jon pushed his dad aside at the feeling, felt his eyes grow hot with more than just tears. When
the next helpless scream came, it wasn't just a sound-wave that sent people stumbling around
him, but Jon cast his eyes towards the sky and let red lasers shoot from them towards the
heavens as he screamed and screamed for the loss of three of the most important friends in
his life.

He screamed until his throat hurt, until his lasers reached beyond the clouds and his fists dug
into the concrete at his feet. Tomorrow was his birthday, a day they'd been planning for to
celebrate once Brook returned...they were all supposed to meet up...and he'd lost them.

***
 All around the world, hospitals exploded, police stations crumbled, public transports were
hacked and buildings had to be evacuated. The number of deaths were too many to count at
first, the amount of grief and fear too much for anyone to voice.

There was a pattern to the targets though...it was mostly in cities famously guarded by heroes,
their countries' leaders targeted, the vulnerable places chosen.

It was a day of great sorrow, an act of terrorism so grand no one country had any idea how to
retaliate, especially when some of their leaders were dead.

That day went down in history as the Joker's most deadly crime, a day Dick Grayson's son
from the future had let slip during his visit albeit in the vaguest of words, for it was a famous
day remembered in decades to come....but even that was not enough to prevent it.

Chapter End Notes

Just know that this chapter wrecked me emotionally as much as it did to you guys. The
next one will be all the more emotional too! Excuse me while I wipe the tears off my
computer. See you next update! Happy Holidays everyone!
 The Only Place for Injured Heroes

Tony Stark POV-

It would be difficult for any man to stand in the wake of all that happened almost a day ago.
Looking up at the clock on the wall of the waiting room, Tony noticed that in less than an
hour, it would indeed be a day.

He hadn't slept for a while, likely wouldn't for whoever long it took for those he cared about
to be well. Even if he wouldn't let the grief show, it was tumbling and turning inside his mind
like a hurricane. Yet, his mind had eased somewhat in the past two hours.

He'd been sitting here, waiting for news on Nat's punctured lung, on the progress of Steve's
speedy healing that would inevitably heal the broken bones of his arms, and the progress of
Yelena's surgeries that were trying to save her life.

Tony wasn't the only one in the lobby, not when many SHIELD agents had been injured and
battling for their own lives after the Joker's suicidal puppets had blown parts of the courtyard
to smithereens.

There were others that came and went for news on their friends and loved ones, but the
compound was still on lockdown.

He wasn't alone in that room, but it had felt like it, as if he were caged in his own thoughts
which only seemed to revolve around the destruction of the world, the beautiful daughter he'd
lost...and the one that was on her way to meet the other.

Tony had once wanted to put a suit of armor around the world, to protect them all from the
Wanda' induced vision that had once shown him everyone he cared for dead at his feet.

It appeared that despite his efforts...destruction and war always came back.

Amidst his heavy thoughts, a cluster of rescue operatives suddenly rushed into the medical
wing of the compound, looking frantic as they surrounded a gurney that made its way
through the waiting room towards the forbidden expanse of the actual hospital section.

Tony would've likely ignored it, the rescue operatives had brought in dozens of people like
this for hours now. But he'd taken his face out of his hands just to make sure it wasn't another
of his team members being brought back from the chaotic field that was the expanse of the
country at the moment.

He'd caught one glance of familiar auburn locks between the cluster of bodies around the
gurney, and stood on shaky legs that threatened to give out any second. Tony's headache
didn't matter as he stumbled forward almost in disbelief, because giving himself hope at a
time like this...if he was wrong, it would kill him.
Then he caught sight of bits of red fabric, wet and torn, and he immediately recognized it as
belonging to the dress Pepper had made Brook twirl around in before leaving for Washington
DC that very morning.

In hindsight, he might've truly crumbled to the ground from the realization alone, but then
Rhodey, Wanda, and a woman with the most peculiar orange skin paired with glowing green
eyes, had rushed in behind the gurney with varying looks of despair.

It was Rhodey who noticed Tony first, who rushed to his friend's side to catch him when
emotions overtook him. Sagging against Rhodey's arms, which were scratched and bleeding
in places, Tony heard himself whisper, "Is that...Rhodes, please"

Rhodey smiled then, a pained sob leaving his lips as he whispered back, "Its Brook. We
found her"

Tony had no idea how to take that, not when the paramedics were screaming for a surgical
room to get prepped, when another nurse shouted Brooklyn's blood type, another saying
something about low temperature.

It was Wanda who rushed over next, eyes bloodshot and body shaking as she managed to add
with a steady hand on Tony's shoulder, "She's alive...Tony, Brooklyn is alive. They all are"

Alive.

Alive.

That simple word, the constant state of people around him, it suddenly became the heaviest
word in his vocabulary, one that brought both immense joy and heart-shattering relief.

At the mention of that simple word, Tony let himself sag further in Rhodey's hold, sobbed
silently at the realization that his daughter was not dead. He had not failed her.

It took a while to gather his wits, to let Rhodey and Wanda guide him back to one of the
plush chairs in the waiting room. At which point, Tony noticed the unfamiliar woman was
still here....unfamiliar yet not unrecognizable.

An alien. Starfire. Bruce Wayne's daughter in law if his currently foggy memory was to be
trusted.

She ignored the confused stares from those gazing at her tall frame and clearly foreign traits,
likely didn't even notice them....not when she too was shedding a few tears, looked like she
had fought her fare-share of battles in the apocalypse that was today.

Her rather revealing purple suit and auburn hair were stained with blood, but a delicate hand
rested on her stomach as she stared at Tony. She looked as broken as he had felt minutes ago,
looked ready to collapse from either exhaustion or pain.

Despite her allegiance to the Waynes, Tony stood to offer his seat, especially when Wanda
had whispered, "She found Brooklyn first, flew her and the others from the plane back to
land. Even offered to escort the quinjet with Rhodey and I to make sure it wasn't attacked"
For that alone, he offered the alien his seat, then called for a stray nurse to check up on the
strange woman who briefly introduced herself not as Starfire, but Kori. Tony had the nurse
patch up as many of the superficial woulds from the alien and his two teammates, asked
another worker to bring them blankets and food too.

In said time, Kori mentioned she had been tasked by the Justice League to help those on the
western hemisphere, and on the flight there, she discovered the president and his entourage
floating in the ocean, most hurt and battered, but none with high risks of death.

"They said Miss Stark saved them" Kori said, leaning her head back on the wall as tears fell
from her cheeks, "They said she had a black metal suit, that she rounded them up form the air
and slowed their fall...like a barrel of-"

"Monkeys" Tony interrupted, leaning against a coffee table with a faint smile on his face as
he realized his daughter had remembered tales of his past. That she had chosen to save
everyone during an impossible situation even at the risk of herself.

Yeah, Brooklyn was definitely his daughter...

He already knew many called Brook a hero, that Firestar (an ironic name considering who sat
before him) was already that to many, and not just in Queens. He'd already praised her for it,
been proud of such a title...but it was in that moment that Tony realized his daughter WAS a
hero, that both of his amazing kids were.

Brooklyn had defended the president. Yelena had defended their home.

Tony tried to stifle the broken laugh that came out of him, did his best to halt the waterworks
that already spilled down his cheeks and onto his facial hair.

He was relieved, knew Pepper and Harley would be elated by the news...but that didn't
change the fact that two of his three kids were fighting for their lives.

Unsure of just what to do in an instance where he could not help with wits and brains, Tony
stifled his anxiety by making sure everyone that needed medical attention received it.
Unfortunately, that job came with some...unexpected patients.

Tony had just ushered Wanda and Rhodey to get their minor injuries taken care of when
someone burst through the door, followed by two nervous SHIELD agents that didn't look too
sure about stopping the stranger.

Out of everyone Tony expected to see in here, Superman was not that person.

The Man of Steel was frantically looking around the room, not rushing towards Starfire, only
stopping his pursuing until he locked eyes with Tony, levitating over as quickly as he could.

The sight was slightly unnerving.

"Mr. Stark!"
Tony wasn't sure what to do in the presence of the most famous alien of their world, still
wasn't certain how he felt about figuring out his secret identity was just some journalist from
Kansas. It had been months since then, and he still couldn't believe there was a relatively
normal 'human' behind the fancy skintight suit and large flowing cape.

Despite the fact that Clark Kent was a head taller than him, Tony held his ground, raising an
inquisitive brow as he stated, "Now what could the indestructible alien be doing in a hospital
wing? I thought you'd be out there helping the world with the others?"

It wasn't an insult. For once, Tony was genuinely surprised at this turn of events. Had the
Justice League not agreed to work with them to fix the mess around the world?

Superman did not seem the slightest bit offended by the comment either, did not even pay
attention the stray nurses and doctors leaving through whatever door they could, likely
anticipating an Avengers vs Justice League discord. Had his home become a motel for
panicking Justice League members?

If that was the case, Tony did not have the energy for such a thing, even just maintaining a
calm and confident expression was taking more out of him than it should. But Mr. Kent (in
disguise) did not look angry from Tony's words....he only seemed panicked, nervous too.

Had the Joker done something else? If so, Tony wasn't sure he 'd have the ability to choose
between his job as a hero or his duties as a father.

"It's Bruce" Superman said, and before Tony could get his hopes up that Bruce Banner had
been found, the kryptonian added, "Bruce Wayne"

So much had happened these past few hours, and somehow, Bruce's death along with that of
his family had been the least of Tony's priorities. Now that he actually pondered on it, Tony
did not experience the relieving joy of knowing his enemy was dead. Tony only felt...a
laughable disappointment that Bruce would go down in such a way.

"I suppose you expect me to say I'm very sorry for your loss? Don't tell me Brucy left me a
cheap yoyo in his will as a final annoyance..."

Despite his usual ease with sarcasm, even Tony could admit that joke had been all but forced
out of him. As if somehow, bickering about the Wayne would make any of this easier, more
normal, as if the events of yesterday had not happened.

Superman surprised him by not throwing Tony across the lot, instead, the Man of Steel
begged.

Not on his hands and knees, not with tears either, but as a very tall and deadly broken man
looking close to tears as he explained, "I found them, Bruce and his family are alive. I dug
them out the rubble but they're injured, some unconscious. I don't think they had enough
oxygen down there for a while..."

Tony had to lean on a nearby table to register the fact that the presumed Waynes were alive.
He was stuck between shock and saying 'Of course he lived'.

Instead, Tony asked, "Why did you feel the need to come inform me? Does Brucy care that
much that his enemies know he lives and breathes?"

Maybe he'd send a silly 'get well' card later, something that said something along the lines of,
'Thanks for not killing the Joker all those years ago asshole'. Even if that did seem a bit
insensitive, even for their rivalry.

Superman surprised Tony once again by explaining, "The Gotham Hospital was destroyed,
the only place Bruce had bought undying secrecy from. I can't take them to Alfred because
he's with them and their personal doctor died last night during one of the bombings so I can't
have them treated at the manor" those bright blue eyes of his seemed more and more
panicked with each glance at the clock behind them as he added, "If I took the Waynes to
another hospital, they might ask too many questions. Bruce's kids unknown to the public have
vague civilian identities, but all of them have too many scars from their vigilante work"

Meaning, they hadn't been helped yet.

Superman did not seem like the type to prioritize pride over anything else, certainly wasn't
when he said, "I made my way here because I heard from Starfire that this place was safe, run
by you...safe for heroes"

Oh...

Now this was a conundrum, a test of wills. As a hero, Tony should be telling Superman to
rush the Waynes inside to get help. As a Stark, he should be laughing at the fact that Brucy
finally needed his help, and Tony was in a position to reject helping him the way Bruce might
if their positions were switched.

But...had Tony's children and teammates not been injured, had the series of events from today
not been enough to fuel nightmares for decades, he might've actually cast the kryptonian out.

It was a blur really. Tony recalled little of when he agreed to host the Waynes, of calling for
nurses and doctors (sworn to secrecy) to be ready as Superman flew the cluster of
unconscious Waynes inside the premises through a window.

Tony barely caught sight of Bruce Wayne being taken away on a gurney towards the rooms
beyond where many others fought for their lives.

Despite himself, Tony made sure they were all kept in a comfortable room after being treated,
arranged for them to be in one space to lessen their worry when they woke up. When Pepper
rushed into the healing ward, clutching Harley close after clearly receiving his text about
Brook, his mind completely forgot about that bit of unexpected kindness.

Pepper would've likely been proud though.

Even with Starfire seated not too far away in the comfortable waiting area, Tony could only
hug his family tight as they hoped for the best. Waynes far from his mind, the least of his
problems.

By the time Tony was able to at least get Pep and Harley to sleep for a while since they still
waited for news, he tried to get some work done by sending a few texts on the current
situation to the Avenger's group chat, as well as arranging Stark Industries relief campaigns
and donations.

Ignoring calls from a very grateful, and hospital ridden, president that wanted to give Brook a
medal of honor had been...unexpected. The president didn't know she was still being treated
for whatever injuries she'd sustained, and maybe it was petty, but some part of Tony blamed
the man and his people for the lack of security that almost cost his daughter's life. So he
ignored the calls.

It was shortly after, that Peter burst into the room, looking as frantic as Superman had been
hours ago. The kid also looked disheveled, still in his hero suit.

Tony quickly stood at the sight, walking over.

"I rushed here as fast as I could! Please...is Brooklyn alive!? How is Yelena?! How....please"
the teen shouted as he took off his mask, looking around the room until he locked eyes with
Tony.

That's when the man realized something terrifying.

Peter was injured. He was bleeding from several places, had a nasty gash on his forehead, and
was covered in soot. Tony had been so lost in his own worry to realize that Peter would be
reckless enough to go help those in need.

He wanted to hug the kid, wipe his tears away....but instead, Tony called for a few doctors
that ushered Peter inside to be healed. Peter was stronger than them of course, but he did not
fight them, not when his eyes were locked on Tony, looking frantic as he asked for Brook and
Yelena's well being.

Tony still hadn't received word of them, could do nothing but tell Pete that they were fine,
that he needed to take care of his own injuries.

Minutes later, Tony found himself finally seated on a couch in the waiting room between his
future wife and his son, all while three teens he cared for deeply were somewhere beyond.

Tony had never wanted any of them to experience days like these, even when he knew it
would be inevitable given they all chose the hero life. Tony had hoped that if he took care of
things, if he fought enough, maybe those three would have easier futures. But the Joker and
his allies had chosen a path of destruction and death for all.

Again, Tony felt that helplessness, the panicked urge of knowing that even with all his
efforts, he could not keep his family safe from harm. It was maddening.

A few texts later, Peter's aunt arrived, hugging Pepper tight as they sat in the waiting room,
whispering sweet reassurances to one another. Tony had not know May hadn't rushed here
alone, not until minutes later when a cluster of Brooklyn's and Yelena's friends arrived.

Tony knew them all by name now, given how often his kids talked about them. He knew of
Ned and MJ, Tanya, and Harry. Let the rest of the Scooby-Doo gang stay and get
comfortable.

He WAS slightly surprised to see 'Kryptonian Jr' here as well, might've questioned it had it
not been for the sudden realization that all the Waynes were here by Tony's mercy. So he let it
be.

Jon Kent had been amongst the most frantic of them, constantly asking any passing nurse
how the Waynes were doing, if there were any updates on Brooklyn, Peter, and Yelena. With
each minute that passed without news, the kryptonian looked more unsettled to the point that
the other teens hugged him close in their claimed couch.

Tony didn't know if any of the teens knew he was a kryptonian, could only begin to work out
that perhaps Superman's son was worried for Tony's girls because of working with them to
keep Queens safe all this time.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that, much less so when said teen with effortlessly styled
black hair and eyes as bright as his father's approached Tony after an hour.

"I hate to bother you right now, but please sir" Jon had said, palms of his hands against his
eyes to fight the waterworks as he stopped before Tony, "I'm sorry I couldn't keep them safe.
God, I wanted this to be different...had been planning to come over for lunch one day in a tux
and all that to make a good impression"

Tony noted the kid was still wearing his hero suit, so akin to his father's.

The Stark did not have time to question the teen's confusing words, not as Jon added, "Lena
was so worried you'd hate her, and I was worried you'd find me too weird and inadequate not
just because of my heritage...but I really care about Lena. The fact that she's hurt, it kills me"

Well...Tony had an inkling of where this was going, did not quite believe it, but Pepper's
steady hand on his shoulder was enough warning to let the stuttering kid continue. Sure
enough, when Tony snuck a look at the beautiful woman seated beside him, Pepper was
looking at the young teen with both admiration and something pained.

She wanted to hear what Jon had to say, and even if Tony had crazy idea about what it could
be and wanted to hear none of it...well, he wasn't going to risk an argument with Pep now of
all times.

So despite his fatherly instincts wanting nothing more than to walk away and not have to hear
this, Tony remained seated, unable to summon the serious expression he'd hoped would scare
the kid off.

"Lena hated keeping this a secret" Jon explained, pacing, "She felt she was betraying your
kindness by not telling you about...about us dating. Now that she's...hurt...I can't keep my
worry for her a secret. I can't stand in this room listening to her faint heartbeat without telling
you that I swore to protect her against all evil...and failed. I'm sorry Mr. Stark"

Tony couldn't quite believe his own daughter was dating a kryptonian, not just because she
hadn't seemed emotionally ready for that kind of stuff months ago, but because Tony was
secretly glad (but not happy) that she'd opened up to that kind of normalcy.

Was he mad a secret of such magnitude was kept from him? Yes. Should he be shocked such
a relationship had been successfully kept a secret given the fact that Yelena was a trained
spy? No.

As a father, he wanted to tear into this teen before him, to tell him that he wasn't worthy of
his little girl (that no one was in his eyes). Tony wanted to threaten the kid if he ever so much
as touched Yelena...but the complete devastation on Jon's face was enough to give him pause.

This kid was burdened with great power, but after living with enhanced beings for so long,
Tony knew better than to think Jon was a danger to his daughter just because he could fly and
shoot ice from his breath.

Jon Kent had cared enough about Yelena to think himself responsible for her condition, to be
pacing like a mad man with every beat of her heart at his disposal.

Besides, Brooklyn had spoken about Jon once or twice, mentioned he was a kind and loyal
individual even if he was friends with young McGlare. Nat had also mentioned Jon's visits
during the break once or twice, that she thought he was a good kid.

There was a chance Brook knew of this secret relationship then, how could she not when she
and Yelena were practically twins. Maybe Brooklyn had said all those things to try and soften
the blow of whenever Jon and Yelena had planned to confess their relationship. Maybe Nat
had one of her spy instincts about it too, and mentioned her thoughts of the kryptonian with
purpose.

But Brook was just as protective of Yelena as Tony was, she'd gladly served detention when
someone had so much as made a joke about her. Natasha was even more so of both girls, plus
she was generally good at telling what people were like and making good assumptions,
except when it came to dating Capsicle of course.

She probably thought he hadn't known, how could Tony be stupid enough not to see a secret
relationsh....ok, maybe he'd missed Yelena and Jon apparently being a thing, but regardless,
Tony was also VERY observant!

Right now, young Jon looked as if he expected to be kicked out, but his friends and a shocked
Starfire seemed ready to stand up for him....man, today was a day of weird choices. First
saving the Waynes, now this...

Looking at Pepper, he could tell she was already moved by Jon's words. If Tony was being
honest with himself...he had been as well.

So he let out a tired sigh and looked into Jon's weary eyes.
"I suppose I should be glad my daughter isn't dating some teenage disaster, or worst of all, a
Wayne. My daughters seemed to think highly of you, and they are very analytical about
others. Plus, I can't even count the amount of girls I dated behind my parent's backs...I guess
it was inevitable that my daughter defy me in a similar manner. Circle of life and all that"
Tony mused, ignoring Pepper's proud smile and Harley's seemingly relieved sigh (had he
known too!?).

Traitor.

Tony really just wanted a good nap at this point. He was glad his kids bad friends, that they
were being less assassiny and more teenager-like. They were growing up so fast...already
defying him. What's next? They'll go out partying or to a club? Drink behind his back?
Would Brook date someone without him knowing?

Now he knew how his parents felt...sheesh.

Despite his better instincts, Tony moved to place a comforting hand on the teen's shoulder as
he added, "We'll probably need to have a talk about keeping your hands to yourself,
Metropolis Jr...but I suppose the most resistance you were likely to meet was from Yelena
herself. If she likes you and Brooklyn hasn't killed you, I guess you must be a good kid"

Jon looked up at Tony with tears in his eyes, either shaking from sobs or fear as he asked,
"So, does this mean you won't keep us apart?"

Pepper spoke up then, smiling faintly while placing her own hand on Jon's other shoulder as
she explained, "Of course not. And what happened today was not your fault in the slightest,
please don't beat yourself up about it. Let's just wait for Yelena to get better, then we can all
arrange for you to come over some day so we can get to know you better. How does that
sound?"

The teen smiled at last, brushing back his tears as he nodded profoundly.

Tony observed as the teen returned to his seat with his friends, still looking worried and
saddened, at times covering his ears as if he were hearing too much. Then again, they were in
healing ward, whatever he was hearing was likely not to be pleasant.

Harley, bless his kind heart, actually noticed said discomfort. He stood up at some point to
offer his headphones to the kryptonian as if they were old friends (maybe they were, what did
Tony know!?). It seemed to help, and Harley ended up staying with them, embraced between
the older teens as they all fell asleep on the couch hours later.

Tony had debated asking Jon if he could hear any news about Yelena or the others with his
hearing, but if he were to hear something bad...Tony would not burden the kid like that.

The fact that he and the others were sleeping was a miracle in itself, that they had managed to
swallow food earlier even more so (courtesy of Pep's and May's nagging of course).

"Did you know about Yelena dating that boy?" Tony found himself asking Pepper once he
made sure everyone in the waiting room had fallen prey to their exhaustion.
Pepper was leaning on his shoulder, red blanket atop them as she whispered with eyes closed,
"No, but I'm so happy she is. From what I heard, Jon is a great kid, is already a good hero
from what I've seen. Plus, I think Yelena could use someone like him in her life"

Tony let his head fall back onto the wall behind him, letting out a sarcastic laugh as he added,
"Having Superman as an in-law....never thought that might be a possibility. But I suppose I'm
happy Yelena has a bit of goodness in this cruel world"

Pepper laughed too, both of them portraying sleepy smiles in the darkened room, only distant
voices and machine beeps to be heard beyond their own amusement.

"They're barely dating, Tony" Pepper pointed out.

Tony knew that, didn't really want to think about his daughters or son getting married
anytime soon (even if Vision, his 'son', was getting real chummy with Wanda these days), not
when he still wanted time to see them grow up, not when he just wanted them out of this
hospital wing.

Still, he pointed out, "Nat once told me that when assassins care for someone, they care
deeply. Regardless of assassin love complications, that boy better hope he never breaks
Yelena's heart or I'll blast him to the moon, consequences be damned"

Pepper gently placed a hand atop where Tony's heart was, snuggling closer to him as she
sleepily pointed out, "Maybe thats why Yelena is dating him, because he's practically
indestructible against you attacks"

The joke actually made Tony laugh for the first time since all this mess had begun, and after
sneaking a glance at Jon, who was clutching his friends close as they slept, Tony couldn't
help but somehow feel content with this little revelation.

If...no, when Yelena woke up, Tony might forego the anger and lectures. He might just take
to teasing his daughter about this secret relationship, AND he'd make sure to pay closer
attention to his teenage children from now on, even if that seemed like a futile effort
considering they were all secretive little shits.

When Tony finally closed his eyes moments later, he thought of it all, about the mess in the
world, the Waynes in HIS home, and his clever daughters who'd not only found faithful
friends, but one of them had dared to tread the line of romantic emotions.

What an unusual day...he was going to need some serious dosage of aspirins after this just to
get his head to stop spinning.

Batfam POV-

Damian woke to a painful headache, which would be the least of his fucking problems.

It wasn't the first time such a painful awakening form sleep had occurred, not with his life as
Robin and a cluster of annoying siblings.
For a few short and blissful moments, Damian thought he was somewhere else, perhaps back
home after a long day of patrols.

Then he felt the sling on his left arm, the bandages on the right shoulder, and faint pinpricks
of pain across his back and legs. He'd walked away alright from worse, but it was the
memories of how he received those injuries that opened up a floodgate of memories of the
events leading to the destruction of the Gotham Hospital.

It was then that a deeper wound was felt, right along his chest. Damian actually reached with
his good hand to clutch that spot between the hospital gown and his beating organ. He found
no physical injury...only the memory that....

Brooklyn...his beloved was gone.

The thought caused him to open his eyes at last, to take in the white ceiling above him, the
thin tubes dangling from IV poles. Thats why his hand felt constricted, there was a tube
pumping medicine into his body from an IV.

Under normal circumstances, Damian would've taken a quick look at his surroundings,
assessed any threats, looked for his family. But he couldn't move. His mind would not let him
care of where he was or how he got here, not when he envisioned a delicate body sinking
down a cold and dark ocean.

He could almost imagine her auburn locks catching the last rays of the sun before her body
sunk down with debris towards the unknown, further and further from Damian. It was a
peculiar feeling of sorrow, specially since Damian had though that he could handle death
better than most.

This did not feel like the time his grandfather had died, when a ten year old boy had been
filled with nothing but rage and vengeance, his poor way to wield grief for his own selfish
gain. Right now...Damian just felt hollow.

Of course he still wanted revenge, he'd drag Aquaman by the hair if need be to track
Brooklyn down, but in this solemn moment with nothing but the beeping of machines around
him...Damian felt like he'd lost the greatest fight of them all, that he had lost something more
valuable than a mere title or the chance at greatness he'd strived towards since birth.

He'd lost a source of happiness, a beacon of light he shouldn't have even possessed to begin
with.

Brooklyn's arms would never embrace him on cold winter nights, her eyes which were a
mirror of his own, would never effortlessly understand the emotions within him. Damian
would no longer see her flames pave ways towards peace in a flurry of battle, nor would he
see the delicate twirls and steps of ballet dances that made her look like she could float on air.

Damian was once again alone in a world with people that wouldn't understand everything
within. It hurt more than he expected, more than the actual wounds on his body that had
warranted his stay in this hospital bed.
It was only when he heard noises nearby of shuffling against bed sheets that he finally tilted
his head, only to see the right side of the room contained many beds like his own, all with
blue sheets, and bodies in identical hospital gowns like his own tucked within.

Each bed was not too far apart, not enough for him to be blinded to the fact that those waking
beside him were his family. In front of him, there was another row of beds on the other side
of the room, which also included his family, slowly coming to from whatever drugs had
knocked them out.

To his left was a large window, its curtains obscuring everything but the signs that darkness
had overtaken the world beyond.

Damian said nothing as his family came to, as they all went through the expected motions of
panic that came with being in a foreign room after a hard day. Damian said nothing to ease
their panic, only watched them sit upright, letting them assess the room for him.

On his right was Jason's bed, he was the one Damian could see best.

Jason did not seem too injured all things considered, but his right leg had a peculiar looking
cast up to his knee, which was propped up on a wire. Jason frowned at it only for a few
seconds until they heard Dick's sleepy voice calling out to them, asking if everyone was
alright.

To Damian's distant relief, everyone replied with varying forms of affirmation, from lazy
grumblings to full sentences Damian did not bother to understand. It wasn't until umi, who
was on the bed across from him, called out to him that he turned to face her.

Umi looked considerably less scratched up than the others, but had more machines and IVs
than the others. Damian could only guess it was to assess her pregnancy after all that
happened.

Damian did not know it, but Selina couldn't even find it in herself to think of anything other
than the joyous moment she'd caught Damian and Brook kissing in the kitchen on that lazy
morning. Despite who she was, she could not hide her grief any longer, not the way she'd
tried to when the news came out of Miss Stark's death.

Her brown eyes were full of sorrow when they locked onto Damian's own, and he vaguely
noted her voice was little more than a faint whisper as she asked, "Damian...are YOU
alright?"

Beside her was father, almost done silently and calmly assessing the room for any threats, as
well as analyzing everyone's screens for any health concerns. He too locked eyes with
Damian, concern written all over his face as the room waited for Damian's affirmation.

But what could he say? That yes, he was alright physically. That despite his injuries he could
take on hundreds of armies, but his useless heart and mind could not get him out of this bed?

Damian felt...upset. Upset in a way that mother would've frowned upon, that would make
him weak in her eyes.
But he wasn't his mother's son anymore. Was he? Would it be easier to deal with this as
mother would've advised?

Perhaps it would...

Jason watched Damian's expressions turn distant, a rare occurrence, but not entirely
surprising considering Brooklyn was dead. Despite their differences, fights and arguments
throughout the years, Jason felt almost compelled to hobble out of bed to embrace his sibling.
It was a first and disturbing instinct.

But yet again,the Joker had taken away something decent in this world. Yet again, an
innocent, MANY innocents, had died because of not just the Joker's twisted actions...but
Batman's fucking lack of them.

Like Jason, everyone but Bruce felt something similar in terms of worry (not really the anger
part, not yet), but knew their comforts would not be received well.

It was Alfred who looked away first, unable to witness the grief in his youngest master's eyes.
Alfred was unharmed, his only crutch being his age. But he wanted to go over and say
something, to let Damian know Brooklyn was grieved by others too, that he was not alone in
that pain.

Alfred had to clutch his pillow to fight the urge to shed a few tears at the sight of the mighty
Damian Wayne rendered wordless. The once spoiled, mannerless, and arrogant boy from
seven years ago Alfred had known and help raise...how he'd changed.

That boy would not grieve a friend, wouldn't have even thought having such a companion
was worth it or necessary.

Alfred had to fight his own mind to not recall all the times he'd seen Damian smile when
Brooklyn was around, like the day he caught them dancing in the living space, or the way he
looked at her that day she brought him back home battered from the Joker's attacks.

He had to close his eyes almost painfully to not recall the sight of the two teens across a
video call, cooking together under Alfred's instruction.

Alfred had seen many sorrows in his life, but none quite like this, something that would
likely affect Damian forever.

Beside Alfred, it was Dick that was unable to keep the tears at bay. Damian was his little
brother, a stubborn kid who acted older than his age should permit. It was Dick who had been
the only one to try and get past some of his brother's impenetrable barriers since day one, a
private privilege he had been happy to share with Brooklyn Stark.

In Dick's eyes, Brooklyn had been Damian's chance to grow out of the walls he kept around
himself. Seeing the two of them together hadn't just been a form of amusement, it had been
like a heart wrenching burst of hope that always threatened to make Dick smile when he
thought upon it.
Seeing Damian smile after all he'd been through had been like a gift, and now the eldest
Wayne feared such smiles would go back to the drawer they'd been stashed in before that day
he knocked Damian onto Brooklyn at that gala last year.

Looking at Damian now...Dick felt sick.

Damian merely nodded in affirmation at Selina's concern, keeping his gaze on the closed
window beside him as if he couldn't bare to look at them either. Darn it, Dick was seconds
away from ripping his IV tubes to rush to him, only he was stopped by Barbara's hand on his
shoulder as she moved to lay beside him.

Her leg braces were surprisingly intact, functional despite what they'd gone through.
Whatever doctors had treated them had been smart enough not to remove them.

Babs looked relatively fine, only a few stitches on her arms and legs, nothing like the
bandage Dick had on his cheek, or the closed and bandaged wound he felt on his stomach. It
was Babs, one of his oldest friends, that looked up at Dick with a pained gaze, close to tears
as she shook her head.

Barbara was right of course, going over to Damian would do nothing in this instance...so he
hugged the red-haired girl instead, kept her close as they both mourned for their brother.

Despite his newcomer status within the Wayne Family ranks, that did not make Duke any less
pained. The wounds of loss were still fresh on him, memories of his own family like constant
itches he could not shake. But he'd known Damian long enough that the young teen was not
like Duke at all.

Damian would not suffer in silence as Duke did, he would not cry in a closet as Duke had
weeks after the deaths of his loved ones. To him, Damian was like a storm, a mighty force of
nature compressed into a teenage body.

Duke had seen Damian take down his fully grown siblings with ease, was sure the teen's
glare could tremble mountains. His new siblings weren't kidding when they described
Damian as competitive, unchained, and willing to do anything to get what he wanted.

It was why Duke sat there on his hospital bed, waiting like one would a ticking time bomb.
Duke waited to see that internal storm explode, almost curious if it weren't for his own grief
to see just what it could do.

An angry Damian was like an army of men, shouldn't a wounded Damian be worse? Or had
this finally made him crumble?

Cassandra knew better that to assume such things after being at Damian's side since his birth.
She knew Damian in a way the others perhaps may not, because in this moment of grieving,
she saw no trace of Damian Wayne...only Damian al Ghul.

Just as she was equally as dangerous with this cast on her wrist as she would be without it,
Damian was just as vicious as normal. But he would not flip the world upside-down in his
rage.
Damian was like any assassin turned into something else, those kinds of people reverted back
to old instincts when unexpected events took them by surprise. It was a known place, a
safety-net of training whose familiarity was as comforting as a hug might be to others.

Her brother could try and deny it, but Brooklyn was a special part of him not just in the
emotional sense. She was like a core to him, and cores were what fueled assassins. His
previous core had been his life as the league heir, and having a violent core made him a
violent kid. This core had been different, it hadn't just been peace but also growth without the
need to rely on the past.

Cassandra had not told her siblings, but she had hoped for much when Brooklyn became a
part of Damian's life. Assassins did not hope or wish, they did not pray or put their thoughts
on faith. But she had wished for Damian's happiness many times, had treasured the memories
of seeing Damian so far from his League ways that day she saw them dancing to a delicate
tune outside a gym amongst the first snow.

With no core, Cassandra was not sure what he would do, but she knew he would not go on a
killing spree, nor would he crumble into himself. She did not know what would become of
Damian, which is why as her siblings likely grieved, Cass feared in silence that he'd walk
back on his progress, that he'd find comfort in the familiar life that was Damian's al Ghul's.

Beside Cass, Steph was too busy looking across, meeting Tim's gaze, to even realize her
sister was worried in her own way.

The couple had pushed back their own relief that the other was safe, replaced by the worry
for their little brother. Steph was used to thinking of Damian as the overly (sometimes
excessively) mature one. He was the one who had been independent since his youth, the little
boy who could do anything with ease despite his terrifying aura at times.

Now, she had no idea how to help when he needed her most.

Tim, on the other hand, knew he would not be able to help Damian in the slightest. The two
had never sen eye to eye, clouded by jealousy, pride, and the need to be better than the other.
Only now did it occur to Tim that he did not want to win this little squabble of theirs, he
wanted Damian to find that happiness that had been so closely attainable not long ago.

He wanted Damian to be happier than himself, he wanted Damian to be better than Tim in the
sense of not knowing what heartbreak felt like. But it was too late.

That is why Steph and Tim merely stared at one another, why they said nothing of their
wishes to help or their knowledge that they couldn't.

Bruce was the only one in the room that mistook Damian's silence for usual aloofness, paired
with understandable anger. He thought his stubborn son was mad the Joker had gotten away
with all this... that perhaps he wanted the Joker dead despite his vows not to kill.

Part of his stronger worries were on Selina and Alfred, both of which were fine if not a little
upset. It was understandable, many had not been as lucky as them...many had likely died in
that hospital. Seeing them safe and unharmed had been a relief though.
Bruce's thoughts were more focused on the sight of all their vigilante suits hung neatly in the
corner of the room, seemingly clean and ironed. He had no idea where they were or how they
got here.

All he recalled was the air running out as the digging towards them began, much too fast to
be done by machinery. He recalled hanging on with everything he had to help his family live,
but eventually exhaustion and lack of oxygen had gotten to Bruce, rendered him unconscious.

Whoever had treated them knew of their secrets now.

Luckily for him, answers came soon enough without the need to plan an escape.

After a few minutes of silence and many tears shed, which Bruce found odd but did not
question, the double doors on the far side of the room opened to reveal a petite nurse with
short brown hair and large innocent eyes.

Her uniform was standard, but it did not hold a clue of where they were. Bruce was only able
to gather her name from it. Sydney.

Nurse Sydney seemed surprised to see them all awake, but immediately turned on a
transparent tablet and began making rounds around the room.

She was very polite when introducing herself as she jotted down notes for each of them or
changed the dosage of the medicines flowing into their bodies. When she took casts off,
everyone was shocked to see intact skin, healed completely.

It wasn't until she made it to Bruce that he dared to say something aside from a distant
greeting like his kids had done. As if their minds were somewhere else.

"Where are we? How did we get here?" he asked, causing the woman to stop her tapping of
the tablet to look his way with a bright blush on her cheeks as she snuck a quick glance at the
familiar suits in the corner of the large room.

Nervously tucking her short hair behind an ear, Nurse Sydney explained, "Well Mr. Wayne,
you were brought in by Superman early in the morning after the attacks. Its been almost a day
since"

Bruce thought that explained why the digging towards them had been so quick, of course
Clark would come in to play hero.

"And here is?" he asked, trying not to sound too rude as to scare her off, but unable to hide
his impatience too well.

The nurse nervously stepped to the other side of the bed to gather more data from the screens
around Bruce, seemingly keeping her gaze away from him on purpose as she replied, "This is
the Helen Cho branch of the healing ward. Doctor Cho herself healed most of your major
injuries with her regeneration cradle to build more skin tissue where you guys needed it, thats
why you've healed well in such a short amount of time"
Bruce stared at his arm, which looked to have nothing but a faint scar where a large wound
should be, which he'd gotten from a falling concrete slab.

"And where is this ward located?" Alfred asked from his place not far from Bruce, seeming
to sense the man's impatience.

The nurse nervously moved to check Selina's screens, looking hesitant to reply as she
explained, "It is a ward in the healing wing of the Avengers Compound, Mr. Pennyworth. Mr.
Stark allowed you to be treated here due to the special circumstance of your secret identities.
Only myself, Doctor Cho, and another doctor know of your...special circumstances, and we
have been sworn to secrecy so you have nothing to worry about!"

The room was silent for a few heartbeats until Bruce finally showed his true shock at the
words. He looked like he wanted to stand up and leave.

"Superman left to go help, well, everyone..."Nurse Sydney interjected amidst the confusion
from the faces around her, "But the hero Starfire is still in the waiting room"

At the words Dick straightened from his seated position cuddled beside Barbara.

"Ko...Starfire is here!?" he exclaimed, looking relieved more than anything. Dick knew that
the Justice League and the Titans would be out helping, and he'd been worried Kori would be
out there too despite the dangers to her and the baby. But she was here, safe.

The nurse turned to him with a faint smile, explaining, "She is well, asks about you guys a
lot. I reckon she threatened a doctor with that green magic of hers for information not long
ago. She was told you are all stable, but since she is not a family member of any of you, she
won't be allowed in until you are all cleared by the doctor"

Everyone (save for a distracted Damian) wanted to explain that Kori WAS family, but enough
of their secrets had been exposed as of now. So Dick kept his mouth shut on the matter.

It was an annoyed Bruce that asked, "Where is Anthony now?"

At that, the nurse blanched. She stopped her typing of Damian's vitals at the words, looking
desolate as she explained to the attentive Waynes in the room, "He is in a different section of
the Med Bay, Mr. Wayne. His daughter Yelena is undergoing critical surgery"

Damian snapped upright at the words, so quickly that his family members flinched at the
motion. His previously empty eyes were alert and angered as he inquired from the nurse
beside him, "Yelena Stark is dying?"

The nurse nodded, letting out a tired sigh at the thought.

"There was an attack here at the compound yesterday" the nurse explained to the confused
gazes locked onto her own, "Miss Stark was one of the victims of the bombs that went off
when she went out to defend those inside this building. She was struck with one of those
space weapons too"
Damian felt like he'd been punched. For all his casual talk that Yelena and the rest of the team
were just comrades, they were friends too. He'd already lost Brooklyn...they couldn't loose
Yelena too...not just for Jon's sake.

"Were many injured in the attack here?" Stephanie asked, trying to fix the bandage around
her head.

The petite nurse nodded, looking in the direction of the gold lined double doors as if she
could see all the patients beyond it. Then she locked eyes with Damian, who was still looking
a bit panicked, which the nurse mistook for discomfort as she increased his pain meds.

"You are an intern for Mr. Stark, right?" she asked, to which Damian nodded, unsure why that
was brought up until the nurse added sadly, "Yeah, we got his other intern here as well. Not
critical condition, but he's got serious injuries from the attacks at Queens, poor boy. I heard
he was friends with Miss Yelena, screamed her name past the pain of his injuries. I think he
asked about you too, but he went into surgery before we found out you and your family were
alive"

Damian was close do loosing it. He could feel it as his mind registered that not only was
Brook gone, but Peter and Yelena were here as well, fighting their own injuries. He couldn't
hide the worry in his eyes, did not even think to obscure such emotions even with his family
present.

Said family was more saddened by the news, especially the Wayne kids who suspected those
injured were Damian's friends. Not only that, but they felt guilty for joking about Peter
Parker's death in the wake of such news.

Bruce did not know such things, still thought Jon was Damian's only friend. He excused that
worry in his son's eyes as a side-effect of the hero work Damian had done with Mr. Parker
and Yelena. Bruce knew the bonds one could form when fighting crime with others, but he
never expected Damian to care, much less for the wellbeing of a Stark.

Even so, Bruce was a bit saddened to hear of the severity of wounds felt by simple teens.

Maybe thats why Bruce said, "With the critical state of Miss Stark's health, I assume he won't
be available to come here?"

The nurse shook her head, "He hasn't left that waiting room since he brought in Miss Yelena.
I'm afraid he wont be open to talk for a while"

Jason watched as the nurse moved to check his own vitals, quick in her assessments and
notes.

He was still angry about so much, wanting nothing more than the Joker's head. But he had the
decency to try and sound docile in front of the delicate nurse as he commented, unable to
look Damian in the eye as he did so, "Mr. Stark must be too grief-stricken to come bicker
with us, right? Have they recovered the other Stark's body from the plane crash?"
In that second of blinding anger, Damian realized Jason wasn't asking such a question to rile
him up. How could he know Brook meant something to him after all? No, Jason was asking
for his own curiosity, due to the loss of a friend.

Despite not wanting to hear such reminders of the death of his beloved, Damian still looked
to the nurse for an answer, surprised to see her pained features relaxed at last at this change of
topic.

For a moment, the Waynes wondered if the relief of finding a dead body could be seen a great
news, others wondered if the nurse was somehow happy Brooklyn was dead, that perhaps the
young Wayne might have been hated by this nurse for some reason.

Their speculations were far from the truth.

Nurse Sydney let go of her tablet for a seconds, wiping stray tears despite her large smile as
she happily announced to the room, "Thats actually why the hero Starfire is here. She came in
with a few of the Avengers who were set to help other countries. From what I heard, they
flew by the site of the crash, and found everyone that was in the presidential plane survived"

It was like Damian's mind was rebooting, replacing grief for a hope he had not let himself
feel since he saw the news feed of his beloved's demise. That hope only grew and blossomed
into relief and immeasurable joy as the nurse added, "Miss Stark is in surgery right now, this
side of the med bay has not heard any news on her yet, but I think she'll make it past the
blood loss she suffered. She was likely just exhausted from treading water so long, her
sprains were not too bad from what a friend said"

All at once, the Waynes (save for Bruce and Damian) felt like their souls had become pound
lighter. Jason almost felt like smiling at the words, and when he locked eyes with his siblings,
he noticed the relief in their own faces, and the tears that came with it....especially from
Alfred, which was a rare sight, but Alfred had shown favoritism of the Stark many times. He
was a loving and trusting old man after all.

Damian on the other hand felt like strength returned to his body. His previously immobile
body sprung up from the bed quicker than was probably advisable. But he did not care, not as
he ripped the IVs from his arms and took off the sling from his barely throbbing arm, not
caring for the shock in his father's eyes or the lack of proper clothes on his body.

Stumbling past the dizziness, Damian made the few steps towards the wide eyed nurse as she
exclaimed, "Mr. Wayne! Um, you shouldn't do that, you aren't cleared to-"

Damian interrupted her ramblings and the panicked beeping from the machines behind him
as he leaned on the small side table by Todd's bed and asked, "Where is that?"

His voice was harsh and serious, laced with anger and impatience that made the nurse shake
as she asked, "What do you mean? Where is what?"

"Where are they doing the stupid surgeries, answer me woman!?" Damian exclaimed,
brushing back stray tendrils of his black hair so the woman could see his cold gaze, full of
determination.
Nurse Sydney nervously pointed to the doors on the other side of the room.

"Um, down the hall to the left, first door leads to the waiting area for the surgery ward"

Damian wasted no time stumbling his way to the door, only stopping briefly when he heard
father's stern voice call out behind him, "Damian, where do you think you're going?"

The teen leaned against the end of Dick's bed, only so he could turn around and stare down
his father with a terrifying glare no one had ever seen on Damian. Even Bruce was
momentarily speechless at the sight.

"Care to stop me, father?" challenged Damian.

Bruce was shocked to hear the finality of the words, the assuredness in which Damian was
determined to leave the room all of the sudden.

All he could ask was, "Why?"

The question seemed to make Damian pause with his reply, but it was with equal strength that
Damian replied, "I want to know how they survived an attack from the Joker. I'm useless
sitting here doing nothing after all that happened. I'm going and you can't stop me, if you try,
I'll stop you...and you won't win"

The room was silent save for the nervous tapping of finger against tablet from the nurse.

Selina, who looked happier that earlier despite the current stand off, moved from her bed
without disturbing the IVs in her body to put a steading hand on Bruce's shoulder. Calmly, as
if this behavior from Damian was acceptable and not at all sudden and weird, she said to him,
"Let him go and investigate. Being still in bed has never been good for him"

Bruce could not argue with that logic, and he didn't think crossing Damian right now was a
good idea. Maybe his son had been angrier than he'd previously imagined.

When he looked around the room and found none of his children or Alfred seemed like they
were ready to try and haul Damian back to bed (Jason even nodded in lazy understanding), so
Bruce simply nodded and 'relaxed' back onto his own bed.

That was enough for Damian to not care about why umi had convinced father, why his
siblings looked happy to see him go. He just rushed out the room, past the confused faces of
passing medical staff that tried to ask him questions or get him help.

Barefoot, Damian made his way across each hall that was instructed. He pushed past the faint
pain of his injuries, the remnants of whatever they'd given him to sleep. Damian was
determined to go to his beloved, not content until he saw he breathing with his own eyes.

It was to the healing ward that he fought towards, to where members of his team were.
Damian decided they would be parted no longer after days of misfortune, and he'd personally
threaten any and all doctors to make sure they were all kept alive....
 Dynasty the Heaven Couldn't Shake
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Jon Kent POV-

Humming a silent tune to himself, Jon sat on one of the cozy chairs, furthest away from the
others sleeping in the waiting room and the receptionist desk that was currently empty since
the nurse left to fetch some midnight snacks minutes ago.

Jon was content to sit by the windows outlooking the courtyard below by himself, which
looked much more put together than when he'd landed in the compound this morning.

His dad was still out there somewhere helping people, and Jon's only solace was that the
news had reported no more attacks from the Joker since yesterday. He knew dad could handle
anything, that mom and his siblings were safe. His worries did not need to extend outside the
walls of this establishment, not tonight at least.

The world was a mess, many counties even more so with their leaders dead.

Yet here he was, hoping four of his best friends would make it out alive from what they had
experienced. Though the worry was still present, he couldn't help but at least be a bit happy
about being accepted by the Starks, to know Yelena's parents didn't hate him.

When Lena got better, Jon would try and get their families together for a meal. He loved his
family more than anything, and he wanted them all to get along, because Yelena was very
special to him, more so than he ever imagined possible. He had been serious about buying a
tux, maybe getting some flowers for Miss Potts, showing up with a gift to dinner in this very
compound one day to show he was a man of manners and worth.

Yelena would laugh at his plans if she were here beside him, tell Jon he was going over the
top with something as simple as eating with her family. But he wanted them to know he was
serious about this, that he was serious about Yelena's protection and happiness.

And that day WOULD come, because everyone would be alright...

Despite his mental reassurances, Jon still shed a few tears at the thought of Damian, Yelena,
Brooklyn, and Peter. His head rested on the cold window pane, watching the rain fall, distant
lightning illuminate the darkness of the night sky like it was ripping it apart.

With no one watching, he could finally let his face contort into the true scale of emotional
pain he felt. Jon was his father's son, SUPERMAN's son, he was supposed to be stronger than
any being in this world, to save millions...yet here he was, alone and unharmed while others
were not.

Or so he thought.
Despite his compelling thoughts, Jon still heard the door into the waiting room open despite
its silent attempt to do so. He thought it was just the nurse from earlier, now back with tasty
snacks to get her through the night shift.

When Jon turned around to at least display a courteous wave of welcome, he was frozen in
place by the sight of a familiar figure, clad in a hospital gown that was probably the only blue
Damian Wayne had ever worn in his life.

He was here...

Damian did not seem to notice Jon right away, he was looking at the other side of the dark
room where everyone slept, including Mr. Stark, someone that would probably not be very
happy to see a Wayne here.

Jon realized with a sigh of relief that his friend was not dying, sure he was bandaged here and
there, but there was no blood, no open wounds, only a slight limp in his step. A limp that
caused Damian to sit back on a nearby table.

Just the sight of Damian here, alive, looking frantically at the patient list beside him....god, it
made Jon chuckle.

The sound alerted Damian of his presence, and the two friends froze up when they finally
locked eyes.

Jon almost found it ridiculous that Damian was looking HIM over for injuries soldiering he'd
been the one whom a hospital had fallen atop of, and that upon finding no harm, he relaxed.
As for Jon, all memories of their childhood up until now seemed to flash in his eyes and mind
as a fresh batch of tears fell down is cheeks.

The half-kryptonian rushed over to his friend, steps so quick Jon might've been flying.

He didn't care that Damian might knock him on his ass for it, after having to spend a day
thinking his best friend was dead, Jon forgot the risks and embraced his friend tight. A hug
that...that Damian returned with just as much vigor.

An actual hug.

They patted one another on the back multiple times as if to say 'I'm fine' the way only boys
knew how, Damian even let Jon cry on his shoulder for a while as the two reunited in the
darkness of the somber room.

"I can't believe...I'm sorry I didn't hear you, that I didn't save you" Jon whispered, embracing
Damian closer if only to remind himself that his friend- that his brother in arms -was alive,
and that the Joker hadn't gotten him.

With a tired and raspy voice, Damian whispered in return, "Don't be an idiot"

There was no remorse, no blame, in those harsh words. It was the Damian way of trying to
assure Jon that all was ok. It took Jon by surprise for a second, because his friend had never
been one for reassurances, even if they did sound like this.
But Jon had always understood that Damian was a peculiar boy, shaped by a lack of love and
kindness from his upbringing with people like Talia and Ra's.

In fact, it reminded Jon of words Brooklyn had once said on a day spent in whispered
conversations during a boring math class by her side. It was shortly after he found out about
her relationship with Damian, and at a time he was still mildly shocked Damian had allowed
such a close connection.

He'd been worried...and curious. So Jon had 'causally' asked Brooklyn if she was bothered by
Damian's aloofness, his sometimes harsh words, or his lack of inexperience with kinder
emotions.

He'll never forget when her beautiful face looked Jon in the eye with the most assured
expression as she whispered, "It's easy to mistake his kindness for something else, many do,
but it's there. It's not always obvious, sometimes enclosed around things like anger and
annoyance, because thats the only way he knows to display such things. But he cares for
those he loves, the strangers he swore to protect, one just needs to care enough to notice his
way of showing that is not typical. But its just as strong"

Jon remembered that day so clearly then, knew that even just getting a pat on the back from
Damian was a monumental show of his worry, perhaps even fear of what had transpired. And
it made Jon so very glad to experience it.

So Damian's comment brought out a chuckle from Jon, then his best friend, a sound he'd
never truly heard from Damian before. Were this a different time, he might've pointed it out,
but right now all Jon cared about was that Damian was ok, even if him chuckling could mean
possible mental damage.

Then their mirth quieted, felt Damian tense ever so subtly.

"How are the others?" Jon heard him whisper softly amidst their frozen embrace.

The son of Krypton felt himself flinch, some of his worries returning. He didn't care how
Damian had gotten word of the others, that he'd likely risked death by Iron-man's hands just
to be here. All he cared for was the faint, almost undetectable trace of worry in his friend's
voice.

"We haven't gotten word yet...but I think the surgeries are over"

Quietly, Damian asked, "Is Brooklyn truly alive?"

Jon smiled faintly, patting his friend on the back, and glad to report, "Yes. Kori brought her in
this morning. I don't know how, but she lived. She's safe now"

Jon didn't need super hearing to know his friend let out a sigh of relief, that some of the
trembling in his body had vanished by the simple words. Brooklyn had been right, Damian
didn't need to smile as wide as the Joker, nor did he need to jump up in glee, because in his
own way...Damian was likely the most content he'd ever been in a while, one just needed to
know him enough to notice the subtle signs.
Pointing it out was likely still a death sentence, so Jon refrained from doing so.

After that, Damian parted from the hug, looking Jon in the eye with incredulity. This Damian
looked more like the old him, strong and determined.

"Might I remind you that you have enhanced hearing and x-ray vision?" his friend
commented, "How could you not know more of how they are doing?"

Jon took a step back at the words, fisting his Black Sabbath long sleeve (courtesy of Mr.
Stark). Knowing Damian would get the answers out of him eventually, Jon merely admitted,
"I'm too scared to listen in, much less look. I don't want to hear any bad news, or hear our
friends in pain"

Damian got back down from the counter as if he felt no pain from his various injuries, and
though his green eyes did not display judgement, he did not seem angry either.

His friend was just, calm, calculating, plotting. Robin.

"There is no one at the front desk, and all the adults are sleeping. If there is any chance to
check up on them, it's now. I need you to listen in, I won't ask you to look. Besides, you won't
get news till tomorrow anyways, whatever you'll hear then you can hear now"

When Jon hesitated, Damian added, "I'm in Stark territory. Once Mr. Stark gets word that we
were all treated, we might get kicked out. I...I need to make sure they're ok, that she is alive"

They were on borrowed time....or at least Damian was.

At that, Jon knew better than to argue. So he steeled his nerves and closed his eyes, pushed
back all doubt and fear for the sake of their friends. His hearing slowly expanded past the
door towards the medical rooms, towards the distant whispers of a few doctors in the lounge
beyond.

The words were muffled, but audible enough that he could hear a female doctor say, "I think
it will just be antibiotics from now on for her. That cradle machine's ability to create tissue
surely makes our jobs easier, right folks? Someone needs to buy Dr. Cho a coffee or
something for all her genius, surgeons probably owe every second of their sleep to her"

Another voice, this one male, replied tiredly, "You're one to talk, I had to deal with an alien-
induced wound. We couldn't risk closing the wound without assessing the injury, I'm beat. I
can't wait to go home and tell my wife no one died here...I can at least take a day long nap
after all this knowing no one is at death's doorstep"

The female doctor from before took a bite of something, then replied, "My screen still says
everyone is stable, most are sleeping. You could go back home now if you want"

"No way!" the man said, "I want to see Mr. Stark's smile when we tell him tomorrow that his
kids are going to be just fine. That man has done too much for the world, saving his kids was
the least we could do to thank him"
At the words, Jon retreated his concentration, almost like he was back in his own body. It was
those last simple yet beautiful words that made the half-kryptonian stumble against the table
beside him, that made a relieved sob leave his lips.

Knowing Damian could mistake such a reaction for grief, Jon quickly pulled himself together
and relayed, "They are out of surgery, and I think they're all doing well. They'll live"

Jon wasn't sure how the next series of events happened, but by some mutual agreement, he
woke up the rest of the team.

Their sleepy faces were panicked at the prospect of bad news, or that was until they beheld
Damian in the other side of the room, arms crossed, trying to seem completely unaffected
despite the near silent relieved sigh from his mouth.

Much like Jon, they didn't much seem to care for his aversions to touch, even Harry. The four
of them all but launched themselves at Damian, hugging him tight, and upon Jon's warning of
those sleeping nearby, the group whispered their next words.

"We saw that hospital crumble and thought the worst!" Ned had said, crying into Damian's
arm.

MJ who was normally quite reserved with her own emotions was also in tears, and though
her embrace of his other arm was more respectful, her voice still cracked a bit when she said,
"We couldn't ask about any updates on you because Mr. Stark was here, we thought they
might've taken you elsewhere. Of course you'd be the one to sneak around!"

If Damian was annoyed or angry at the dual embrace from Harry and Tanya, he did not let
show, nor did he remove their arms from his back. Jon's oldest friend seemed shocked at the
worry others displayed for him more than anything.

"Damn! I told them you were too stubborn to die!" Harry said, his sobs clear as day as he
added with his fist lightly hitting Damian's chest, "Death probably took one look at you and
decided you were too scary to keep, right man?"

Tanya slapped Harry's arm at the words, but hugged Damian tighter at the words that had
likely been meant as a poor attempt to make them laugh.

"Are we hurting you? Do you need a wheelchair or something?" Tanya asked, pulling
everyone back so they could asses Damian's condition.

Finally snapping back to his usual senses, Damian replied, "I'll be fine, obviously" but he was
not glaring as usual, just looked at the lot of them with some kind of relief. Like they weren't
beneath him, as Damian often did think of others. Like they were his friends.

It was Jon that moved to Damian's side then, putting an arm around his stubborn friend's arms
to help him walk, then turned to the others and said, "How do you feel about sneaking in to
see the rest of the team?"
No one argued against it, ready to break whatever rules needed by the looks of it. Tanya only
went back to the couches briefly to cover Harley with a warmer blanket, then the teens made
it past the forbidden door after Ned figured out the control panel.

By Jon's guess, there were only five doctors in the surgical wing, but they were all in the
break room at the end of the long hall, too busy eating or trying to sleep off a days worth of
surgeries.

The teens still tried to be as quiet as possible while sneaking about, with MJ at the back with
her phone flashlight lighting the way. Harry at the front to discern the name tags of each
recovery room.

The first door containing one of their friends that they happened to stumble upon had been
the one Jon was both dying and dreading to cross most.

The group huddled before it, examining the name tag that read;

Rm 35. Yelena Fyodorovna Stark

They all looked to Jon, even Damian. He wasn't sure if it was a question of his readiness to
go in, but regardless, he accepted Harry and Ned's offer to keep Damian upright as he stepped
forward to grasp the cold door knob.

After a steading breath, Jon slowly opened the door to his girlfriend's room.

Yelena Stark POV-

Yelena had come back to her senses in a strange room. Contrary to popular belief, she did not
wake in blissful ignorance to what had brought her here. The memory of the attack had
chased her even in the medically induced sleep she'd been in.

As soon as she woke, the only thing that came as a surprise were the array on injuries she
possessed.

From what she could gather, Yelena felt some soreness in her arms, and the leg which had
been struck by the alien weapon was thankfully still there, her toes movable. Said leg was
bandaged, likely to ward off infection, and it was propped up on a wire of sorts.

Thanks to her internship at the hospital, Yelena could tell with outmost certainty her vitals
were stable, that whatever had been done to save her life had been successful. She also knew
that anesthetic drugs could stay in your system for up to 24 hours, meaning she had likely
been out for no longer than a day. That knowledge came from both her internship, and her
espionage training.

But there was no permanent damage, and the pain she DID feel paled in comparison to
injuries she'd suffered through in the Red Room...paled in comparison to the pain of knowing
her sister was dead. And Damian...another al Ghul (this one somewhat cherished), gone.

Fighting back her wishes to just punch out her frustrations, Yelena took in the small room
around her with a fain discomfort.
Despite its size, it was equipped with the best tech, the bed under her soft and comfortable.

The room itself only had one window with its panes closed, but the transparent and mirror-
like objects meant as a TV, propped on the wall across her, WAS on. It was silent, subtitles
being the only way she could tell what was being said in the news.

It cast enough light for Yelena to know she was alone in the room.

Yelena took in the small comfort of knowing that if she was in the med bay, that meant the
Compound was safe. It was likely her family was too, worried and grieving, but alive. The
same could not be said for many others.

The news still talked of the attack despite it being almost two days later. Countries were in
disarray, people feared leaving their homes, and relief efforts were still on their way in many
places.

Despite her better judgement, Yelena reached for the remote to switch to more local news, the
only thing she could bring herself to care about like this. It was only confirmation that all the
horrors she'd seen before ending up here had been right.

Brooklyn's plane crash HAD occurred, the coast guard hadn't even been able to go over there
yet by the looks of it. Damian's presence at the Gotham Hospital HAD ended with his death.
And to her horrified surprise, another of her friends had been in peril while she was here.

There were clips of Spider-man out in the streets of Queens when all the bombings happened.
One in particular taken with a shaky phone camera showed her friend trying to stop a train,
ending with the hero passing out from the tremendous and stupid (yet very Peter-like) effort
to save those within...and though he'd been successful, he was spent and injured, shown
falling forward to his likely death before the clip cut out.

Yelena turned off the TV then, unable to look at any more of this reality, unable to keep from
punching the thin blanket atop her body. Sitting down had been a struggle, but a welcome
pain if only to breathe a little easier past the ache in her chest.

Brook dead.

Damian dead.

Peter dead.

Who knew what else had gone wrong too. Maybe her apartment complex was destroyed too,
perhaps Midtown was nothing but ashes. It was a cruel reminder of words from the past, of
the times Ivan had told her that attachments only brought pain and weakness, that assassins
were magnets of death.

She hated to think he was right, but the ache within her mind was unlike anything she'd ever
felt. Yelena spent many a minutes letting that emotional ache consume her, felt like she
wanted to let it swallow her whole. That was until she heard the door to her room slowly
open...
Despite being in the Compound, Yelena still looked around for a weapon, settling with
holding a nearby syringe at the ready as the door opened inch by inch.

It could very well be a doctor coming to check on her, or it could be the Joker. Either way she
took no chances, slowly setting down her leg from the brace it was hanging from, ready to
attack as she saw a human shape take form.

The faint light from the hall wasn't much more than what illuminated her own room thanks to
the monitors around her, but it was enough. Yelena had a feeling that even in complete
darkness, she'd be able to recognize Jon's tall frame, see the outline of that pushed back black
hair and know without a doubt...

"Jon?" Yelena heard herself whisper, immediately setting down the syringe as soon as he
rushed in, and faster than she could register, his warm body was embracing her own.

The familiar scents of the skies, his grandma's cooking, and that earthy cologne he liked to
steal form Damian hit her senses like a punch to the face.

Hearing his sobs was what did it for her, because despite the pinpricks of pain, Yelena moved
her arms to embrace him as well. She even felt a few of her own tears seep into the fabric of
his shirt, that oddly enough smelled of dad's cologne too.

"I was so scared" Jon whispered between hiccups, "Lena, I thought you were dead! But
you're alright, right?"

Yelena could only nod against his chest, clinging to his back from the sheer relief of knowing
he was alive. A relief that came with the knowledge that others were not.

"Jon...my sister. Damian and Peter...chert voz'mi " she cursed, "I can't believe they're..."

Jon moved back to gently wipe the tears from her eyes, a faint smile on his face despite the
words. His quick kiss to Yelena's lips was like a breath of fresh air, and it calmed her
panicked mind enough to relax her mind against those dark thoughts.

It was with all the gentleness in the world that he moved back, then muttered towards the
door, "Sorry about that, come in guys"

Confused, she looked behind him only to see a sight for sore eyes.

One by one, her friends stepped into the small room, illuminated by a light from MJ's phone.

Tanya and MJ both branded large teary smiles upon seeing her, and Harry and Ned seemed to
be helping someone stand. He was clad in a hospital gown, the first thoughts in her mind
were that he was definitely not dead. And the sight of him was enough for Yelena to let out a
pained sob.

"Yebena mat' " she whispered, locking eyes with Damian Wayne.

Holy shit.
Damian was the one who dared to step forward first, moving to stand by Jon's side. He
looked more or less like his usual self, but it was clear there was some kind of grief weighing
him down. Yelena could only imagine his pain at their loss of Brook...so when Jon moved to
hug both her and Damian, one with each arm, Yelena reached out her spare arm to grasp
Damian's shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting gesture.

Yelena had yet to master the art of comfort, something Brooklyn had been much better at,
especially when it came to the Wayne beside her.

The Wayne surprised her by placing a hand on her own shoulder, and though he said nothing,
the message was clear. Both of them were glad the other was alive despite their old assassin
rivalries that held no meaning anymore, hadn't for a long time, and wouldn't matter from now
on.

Yelena didn't even question how he had lived, or even how he ended up here in the one place
his last name was not welcome.

Yelena Stark was just glad Damian Wayne was alive.

It took seconds for the others to join in a tangle of hugs and embraces that made her bed
groan with the weight of all their bodies huddled atop it. Despite all the bad and the wrong
that had occurred, Yelena found herself smiling along with the others after she got used to the
feeling of it all.

Her previous reservations when it came to physical embraces were long out the window as
she hugged each of her friends tightly, surprised they had worried so much for her, that their
tears were a reflection of their fears for her life and their joy at her being well.

They cared for her life just as much as she cared for theirs.

It was with that joy that a painful reminder hit her, that Pete and Brook would've joined the
embrace too if they weren't...

Yelena listened intently when her explained their arrival from Queens this morning only
briefly, because Jon sheepishly interrupted the tale with, "I also had a talk with your dad, and
you wont believe me when I tell you that he's actually alright with us dating. Isn't that
great!?"

Yelena had a brief second of worry in which she thought she might be dead and this was all
just an illusion from the afterlife. Then she took in the old band t-shirt. Jon's smile and relief
was real, everyone's smug grins were too.

"I guess Damian's well being isn't the only miracle we have been granted" Yelena replied, but
took Jon's hand into her own. Both in relief and adoration.

"Speaking of miracles..." Harry said, twirling around his red beanie with nervousness
and...was that excitement?, before adding with a hustling tone, "We have a few more rounds
to make right?"
The others immediately stood from the bed at the words. Though they offered to leave Yelena
to rest, the Stark pushed their worries aside by standing with Jon's help. Her injuries
themselves were not too painful for her to walk, but something told her Jon had no desire to
let her go after all this, so she let him stabilize her by the arms towards whatever her friends
meant by 'rounds to be made'.

Tanya and Ned helped Damian with the faint limp on his leg, even as he whisper/yelled at
them that he was fine to walk on his own. MJ and Ned led the way, with Harry lighting the
hallway from behind them with MJ's phone.

She wasn't sure where they were going or why they were sneaking silently along the cold and
quiet halls...that was until they came across a door much like the one they'd excited her room
through.

With the help of the phone's light, Yelena almost stepped out of Jon's steading embrace as she
read the name of a boy she'd already thought of as dead.

Rm 41. Peter Benjamin Parker.

It didn't help her beating heart when she heard some form of shuffling from within, indicating
signs of life. She could only think of the adorable brown eyed boy who always stared at
everything new with wonder, who came by late in the day with Delmar's for her and
Brooklyn, the boy who rambled about Star Wars on movie nights at the compound, who
swung around the city like a beacon of goodness.

A boy whose mere existence proved Ivan's words on humanity wrong.

Though the pain of her sestra's death was still fresh, the relief of Peter being alive was
enough for her to let in a sharp and unsteady intake of breath as Ned quickly opened the door
with MJ's arms steading his shaking form.

It was the beginning of a long line of relief.

Peter Parker POV-

Peter knew it was late, it had to be. His open window displayed a full moon hidden between
clusters of dark clouds. That didn't stop him from pacing nervously as he had been for the
past few minutes, or hours, he wasn't really sure.

He'd rushed to the compound upon hearing Brooklyn was alive, unaware of just how many
injuries he'd sustained from his hero work in Queens until Mr. Stark pointed them out. It
wasn't anything life threatening, especially when his body had the peculiar skill of healing
very quickly.

One time, when he'd come back from his first mission with Mr. Stark, Peter had sported a
black eye courtesy of the amazing Captain America. Of course, at the time May hadn't known
of Pete's identity or the fact that he'd flown to Germany to fight Avengers with Mr. Stark.
He'd made up some lie about fighting some kid named Steve from Brooklyn (he'd panicked),
which May had believed as she nursed his black eye. It had almost healed completely the
next morning. Remembering how long bruises needed to heal from the times he was beat up
by bullies before a radioactive spider had bitten him, Peter had known it would look
suspicious if said black eye was gone in two days...so he'd stood in front of his bathroom that
morning and punched himself if the already sore eye.

Whatever injuries he'd gained from his efforts to help Queens were almost gone, though his
arms still felt the strain of holding back a train. Regardless of his personal healing abilities,
Peter still kept his IV stand in hand as he paced, wheeling it beside him so the medicine being
pumped into his bloodstream could do its work undisturbed.

He should be laying down instead, May would certainly yell at him if she saw him pacing
like this. But...he just couldn't help it.

Brooklyn and Yelena might be alive, or at least he hoped so.

He'd actually put on a stray hoodie hours ago with the intention of going out his room to ask
for his friend's well being. A nurse had stopped him, and because she was a SHIELD nurse,
she'd locked his room door for good measure knowing full well Spider-man could climb
walls if need be.

Peter was willing to bet he could break the lock with his bare hands, but wasn't sure what
alarms could be activated as a result. The last thing he wanted was to distract doctors and
nurses from saving his friends' lives thinking something was wrong.

So he remained here, pacing.

That didn't stop the tears from falling though, not even eating the small meal the nurse had
brought him had consoled his emotions. The beef and mashed potatoes had tasted like ash in
his mouth even when he was sure it was likely a gourmet meal of high quality.

He hadn't bothered to hide his sadness from any of the doctors and nurses that had stopped by
either. So when he heard rattling from the door, Peter didn't bother getting back into bed or
stopping his pacing.

If anything he cried harder, hoping whatever doctor payed him a visit this late did not come
with bad news on his friends' conditions. They'd already lost Damian....he really did not want
to hear someone else had died, especially when he'd thought Brooklyn was already dead this
morning.

The doctor took a little longer to open the door, a fact Peter only recognized until after the
door had beeped opened.

When Peter turned, he was more than shocked to see Ned kneeling before the door, hands on
the security pad lock. In fact, Pete was sure his mouth was hanging open at the sight.

"Ned? What are you doing here?"

Ned didn't waste another second to stand up, and Peter barely registered there were others by
the door until he saw his oldest friends, Ned and Harry, both rush across the room to tackle
him into an embrace that sent them crashing onto the couch behind them.

They were yelling at him, cursing his hero tendencies, but their sweet hugs were tight and
desperate. Peter felt like all the strength he'd been summoning since he saw the news of
Brook's death left his body them. He hugged his friends tight, recalling the times the three of
them had hugged just like this when they were still little more than infants, saddened about
the ending of a movie or the deaths of Harry's mom and Peter's parents.

"I'm ok" Pete kept whispering to them until his friends' bodies were pushed apart by none
other than MJ.

MJ was here...

She looked tired, but despite that, her thick curly hair was down in the most beautiful of
messes, and it was with some embarrassment that he noted she was wearing one of his Star
Wars hoodies, something Aunt May had likely given her back at the apartment while he'd
rushed here.

For a brief moment of panic, Peter worried about whether or not he'd washed said hoodie or
just tossed it onto his desk absentmindedly. He'd be so embarrassed if that was the case, in
fact, he was about to ask her if she wanted the one he was currently wearing (something
fetched from his clean clothes from his room at the compound)...but he was stopped when
she brought him into a tight embrace that had him standing from the couch.

He could barely hear MJ's voice as she whispered breathlessly, "Next time you're hurt, you're
not allowed to leave until you get treated. You understand?"

A command.

Peter just knew he was blushing bright red from the close hug, and it was with shaking arms
that he hugged her back, making sure his arms were in a respectable place before answering,
"Yes! of course! Sorry!"

She pulled back slightly, and though she was only slightly taller than him, the time it took MJ
to lean down towards his face was not enough for Peter to register the fact that she....that she
was kissing his cheek.

Peter felt frozen, everything forgotten as he felt her soft lips land just below his right eye. The
kiss itself only lasted a few seconds, not nearly enough for him to justify being this flustered
and red-faced.

Of course he made a further fool of himself by saying as soon as she pulled back, "Um, thank
you!"

Peter barely caught sight of the teary faced Ned and Harry muffling their laughter behind MJ,
looking straight at him as if they too couldn't believe how stupid he was.
"Um," Mj replied with shuffling feet, snatching his gaze back onto her own as she added,
"thank you too"

Thank you too...wow!

Peter was spared further embarrassment when Tanya pushed MJ aside to tackle him into
another embrace, laughing at him.

"Hoodie and hospital gown are not a good look on you, my friend" Tanya joked, moving to
fix his curls like a fussing mother, adding, "Aunt May is going to kill you when she wakes
up. You're lucky I'm not killing you for not telling me just how injured you were back in
Queens! Shouldn't have carried me back to the apartment you idiot! But you saved my dad's
life, so I forgive you this once"

Again, Peter could do little more than apologize, part of him still struck with the fact that MJ
had kissed his cheek, the other glad to see his friend.

It was as he was about to point to his vitals to show he was fine that Peter noticed two others
were slowly making their way towards him. Peter was gentle when pushing Tanya aside, if
only to make sure he was not seeing things.

It was Damian and Yelena (Jon guarding the door by them), clad in hospital gowns like his
own.

Alive, walking.

Pete didn't care that his IV stand was dragging behind him, he let it go completely as he ran
to hug them both. Even with the pain in his arms, he still extended the appendages to their
limits so he could embrace both of them, sobbing in the space between their shoulder blades
as he repeated their names over and over.

Yelena was quick to embrace him back, playing with his unruly brown curls as she cried.

"I thought you died stopping that stupid...." Yelena said, unable to finish when a sob overtook
her. An angry sob if that was even possible. "Only you would try and stop a train, stupid
chelovek-pauk" Lena added, which only caused Pete to tighten his hold on her, his sobs
increasing at the Russian words for his hero name...what Brooklyn used to call him.

"You're both alive! I'm so sorry about Brooklyn, I'm so so sorry...is she..." Peter blurted out
between sobs, hearing Yelena's silent cries increase against his chest.

Though Damian had not pulled away from the embrace, he was not crying. In fact, when
Peter looked, Damian looked composed. If anything, looking down at Pete, he actually
looked relived to see him, no sign of what the mention of Brooklyn made him feel.

Maybe he was in shock? Maybe it was the being enemies thing, but Peter liked to believe
Brook and Damian were close to being good friends by now. Maybe the Wayne was hurting
in his own way?
Or was Brooklyn alright? The hope of that thought was enough for Peter to calm his tears, if
only slightly.

"Good to see you're not dead" Damian muttered, moving his hand to pat (not too harshly but
not gentle either) Peter's shoulder once before breaking away from the embrace, quickly
moving to steady Yelena until Jon came to help.

Jon did move to help his girlfriend, but managed to hug Peter in the process, and though he
felt dwarfed by the embrace, Peter welcomed the familiar feeling.

He couldn't help but be relieved to see them all, even if Damian and Jon being here WAS a
bit odd, if not unexpected.

The came an even more unexpected series of events...

Harry was still teary eyed, but looked relatively still like himself. Clad in his usual sleeveless
band t-shirt and worn jeans, he looked as confident as his stare as he excitedly pointed to the
door.

"We still have one more stop, we need to go see Brooklyn!" Harry mentioned, moving to help
stabilize Peter with Ned quickly taking up his other side.

Yelena, who had been held up by Jon alone suddenly went wide eyed, leaning forward as if
she might tackle Harry for answers or punch him.

"She's here!? Alive!?" Lena yelled.

Damian brushed aside Tanya's offer of stabilizing help, in fact, he was the first that made it
towards the door despite the slight limp on his leg. He only turned back to say, "Lets go,
we're not waisting another second with all this needless confusion"

Excited by the prospect of seeing Brooklyn, Peter didn't even question Damian's eagerness,
he just followed his friends through the dark and forbidden halls, all of them peeking at the
names on the closed doors around them, hoping to see a familiar one.

The few times they heard noises, they'd hid in the shadows, letting stray doctors make their
way towards the break room at the every end of the hall, which ended in a cul-de-sac sort of
way.

Luckily, they didn't have to risk getting so close to said break room, not when Tanya
excitedly whispered up ahead, "I found it!"

Faster than that sentence was finished, everyone was already huddling by the door on the left
side of the hall. MJ's phone illuminating the shiny plaque beside it.

Rm 49. Brooklyn Rosa Stark.

Peter was about to step forward, only to be stopped by Jon and Yelena, who seemed intent of
holding everyone back save for Damian, who's hand lingered on the handle. Peter thought
Yelena might want to go in first, considering she was the only one who did not know
Brooklyn was alive, who was family.

But no, she didn't make a move to push Damian back.

In fact, it was Yelena that whispered, "The two rivals should get to see one another first, you
know, in case they kill one another. Lets give that some space"

Peter and the others exchanged confused looks, but nevertheless let Damian twist the nob and
after a brief pause, disappearing inside. No one wanted to see what kind of horrific encounter
would happen in there not when brook and Damian were barely starting to acknowledge
something close to friendship. It would surely end in both screaming at one another.

Still Yelena and Jon smiled. Maybe they were just happy to be reunited?

Confused and slightly injured, Peter kept an eye out for doctors, letting whatever a Stark-
Wayne reunion required happen undisturbed, even with Tanya's silly jokes that the two
should just kiss away they hate one of these days.

They'd all faintly laughed at that, but Peter was glad to report it did not alert any doctor of
their presence. In fact, he was just glad in general...

Brooklyn POV-

Brooklyn had been drifting back and forth from sleep, which was to be expected.

As soon as Dick Wayne's wife had flown her towards the compound, Brooklyn had felt
herself slipping. The injuries she'd possessed were not severe, but leaving them untreated had
been the true kicker of it all.

Hours drifting and floating in the water should've been considered calming after the hell she
and the others survived. But those adults were not as accustomed to pain as she was, and their
faint injuries proved to be much for them to handle. So at times, Brooklyn found herself
helping someone stay afloat, other times wishing she was Alfred or Aunt May so she'd know
how to help medically.

It had been an exhausting task, which only came to an end when Starfire had shown up,
levitating in the sky above them like a saving angel. Brook had been amongst the few who
had not possessed the energy to scream for help, nevertheless, the leader of the Teen Titans
had come to their aid.

Knowing they were found had felt like permission to slip a little, no longer having to carry
the other's lives above her own well being. From what she remembered, a quinjet had shown
up not long after, and though it was Wanda and Uncle Rhodey that fished her out of the
water, it was Starfire that set out to take her the opposite way the Quinjet was going while
they arranged flight coordinates to Washington DC for the others.

She remembered seeing them flying (via magic and suit) behind Starfire at some point, but if
they had said anything to her, Brooklyn hadn't caught it.
The woman's voice she DID hear had been kind and comforting as she assured she was
taking Brook home. Brooklyn had been slipping in and out of sleep then, sometimes
mesmerized by the trail of green looking light that allowed the alien to fly (which was so
different from Wanda's scarlet-colored magic), other times too tired to even register her arm
must be dislocated.

Then she had arrived here at the compound, woken up while some doctor was in the process
of closing a wound to her lower stomach. Then they'd put her back under.

Waking up a few hours ago had been disorienting, especially when any and all doctors that
showed up to do a check up took to expressing how much of a miracle it was that she had
lived. It's like thats all they thought they could say to Brook, even as she asked about
everyone else she cared for.

Some nurse had let it slip that other parts of the world had not been so lucky, and that quickly,
Brook had snatched the remote for the TV to see the news. What she had beheld....its what
kept her up right now.

There were rumors that Spider-man had died, he had not been seen since saving the police
force of Queens, and had looked battered enough that civilians expressed their concerns
openly when interviewed.

To Brook, she took that as only a small chance that Peter WAS actually dead. Queens was
safe, just in need of rebuilding, so maybe he was sleeping off his exhaustion.

The next bit of news left no room for speculations. It was the reason she'd been screaming her
heart out hours ago, something the doctors had mistaken as a reaction to physical pain. It was
why she'd been given a more than generous amount of painkillers, why she still drifted in and
out of consciousness.

Brook knew better than to scream now and alert a nurse of physical pain that did not exist.

But how she wanted to keep screaming...to get out of this bed, rush to Gotham even if it
meant using her fire and risk getting exposed as Firestar. She wanted to go up to the remains
of that hospital, to dig until her skin bled, until she couldn't lift one more piece of rubble.

She'd steal a suit from dad if need be, just to have the strength to find Damian's body.

Even now, the thought of finding him, seeing his lovely green eyes devoid of life, it reminded
her of the day at Midtown when they'd snuck in at night and ended up fighting Harley Quinn.
Even when they weren't dating then, thinking of loosing him had felt...she wasn't sure there
were words to describe all she felt that day.

And his family too...Brooklyn would never get to see the gender of Damian's new sibling, nor
would she bicker and joke with Jason over text. Her new and treasured forbidden friendship
disturbed before it had time to blossom. Brook had no real quarrel with his other siblings,
cared enough about Barbara to keep making updates for her braces, was silently thankful for
the supportive role Dick played in Damian's life too.
Damian also spoke of his other siblings often enough that she knew enough about them to say
they were more than just blank faces with names. In some way or another, they had all been
important to Damian's life, so they had mattered to her.

Though a part of Brooklyn longed to go find Damian's body, the other thought it might be
better to go to his home, hug Titus, Goliath, Batcow, and Alfred the Cat tight when she
mentioned the loss of their owner. Thats what he would've wanted after all.

Maybe what kept her in bed was the knowledge that Yelena was here as well. A nurse had
said so when she thought Brook was asleep during the relocation process of her shoulder.
Brooklyn had bit back the pain if only to hear what was being said without getting caught.

Hearing an attack had occurred at the compound had been heartbreaking, hearing Yelena had
been hit had been even worse. Then she heard Nat and Steve had been hurt on the field as
well and...she'd stopped listening after that.

Brooklyn was half tempted to let out her screams again, if only so a nurse could knock her
out and Brook could have an hour of blissful sleep before remembering all this.

She just wanted to hug her family, to go back to her apartment to work on that ballet routine
with Lena, sleep with Damian comfortably by her side, go on patrols with her friends, spend
time with them all the Briar Rose Cafe on a lazy or even a busy afternoon.

Turning, Brooklyn faced the monitor above her, displaying an unsettled heartbeat but
relatively stable vitals from what she could tell. There was another monitor next to it, one she
was sure any of the other patients here did not have.

It was monitoring possible spikes in her...abilities. Though she still had the vibranium
bracelets on, it seemed no one here was taking any chances, not that she blamed them. But
her fire would remain dormant as long as she willed it to, and she'd use it soon enough, to
burn the Joker into nothing more than ashes, and then some.

Brook did not recall screaming about that last part, but she must've since someone was
coming inside the room. Great.

The familiar creaking of the door was something she'd associated with being put to sleep, but
it was already two in the morning, maybe sleep was the best thing she could do at this hour
after all.

Turning to face the door, Brook briefly wrestled with the blankets, thick wool covers that had
been given to her in an attempt to keep her temperature up, even when the ocean hadn't been
deadly cold, nowhere near Russian temperatures from the past.

Brooklyn had been ready to apologize for the noise, maybe try and ask for her dad (to which
the nurse would likely say that visits would have to wait till tomorrow, again) or perhaps
news on her sister (which like the last fifteen time she'd asked, Brook would likely be told
information would come soon enough).
Only the shadow of the nurse was taller this time, moved quietly inside and then closed the
door behind...him?

It was the brief moonlight from the window that illuminated the features of someone Brook
assumed to be nothing more than a ghost by now. She knew better than to believe in such
things, to think Damian's soul had come to welcome her into whatever came beyond life.

It was the shock on his face that made her pause, the way he stumbled back against the door
as soon as his emerald orbs met her own. She took in the bandages around his body, the
hospital gown identical to her own.

The she heard him whisper her name, just once.

That had her sitting up, punching and kicking her covers away, ignoring the thin tubes
holding her hostage against the machinery. Not once did she take her eyes off his own, not as
she stood on shaky legs.

He looked frantic, tired, yet all that was trumped by the relief in his eyes, so visible he might
as well be screaming it to her. She then understood without having to think, that somehow,
Dami was standing not seven steps away from her...looking at her the way she was probably
looking at him.

Like they were seeing a ghost.

Though she wanted nothing more that to fly into his arms, Brooklyn's steps were slow, as
were Damian's. They walked towards one another, each step heavier than the last. Before she
could draw air into her lungs, because apparently she hadn't been breathing this whole time,
Brooklyn found herself standing before him.

Her hands slowly lifted to rest along his cheeks, almost jolting in surprise when she felt the
contact of skin on skin, those calloused fingers on her soft skin. Even the slight roughness of
them was like a familiar comfort, a reminder that led her to one conclusion.

That's when she realized he was real.

Damian's own hands moved towards her damp cheeks, slowly wiping her tears back even
when his eyes did not dare stray from her own.

Together they took in a steading breath, together they dared to cry in one another's presence.

His hands were gentle, careful as one pulled her closer, folding around her back and the other
deep into her loose locks, massaging her troublesome thoughts away. Her own hands moved
with equal slowness, one to rest atop his heart, the other around his back as Brook's face
rested against his firm torso.

She felt a bandage on his back, a new yet seemingly not threatening injury. She felt the way
his lungs expanded and retracted, felt the beating of his heart.

In that moment of complete and absolute vulnerability, Brook truly let herself cry, especially
when his familiar hands traced the scars beneath her gown, as Damian's other smoothed back
her hair so he could rest his forehead against her own.

She could see his tears as well, two perfect drops, one on each cheek slowly making their
way towards his chin. Brook had to raise herself up slightly to tilt her head enough to kiss
them away, letting the salty taste of the tears dampen her lips.

It was in a voice softer than a whisper that Damian said at last, "I thought you were dead. The
world thinks you died"

Brooklyn, upon feeling his lips kissing her own tears away, replied shakily, "I saw the
hospital and thought the worst. I thought you were..."

His arm brought them impossibly closer in that moment, his face burying itself in the place
her shoulder and neck met. Brook could feel his unsteady breaths, feel the remnants of his
damp cheeks on her skin as he whispered back, "Never again"

Brooklyn understood what he meant with painful awareness.

He had thought she was dead, and she thought she'd lost him too. Though they had been in
similar positions before, this feeling of loss had been different. It had felt stifling and raw, an
emotion stronger than either of them had ever been willing to feel.

Brooklyn tilted Damian's head up with little nudges until his forehead rested back on her
own, until their noses danced around one another and she could finally feel their rapid hearts
slow, beating as one.

It was as they were both leaning in, lips closer by the second that she whispered back, "Never
again"

When they closed the space between them, Brooklyn finally felt that wave of slowness and
hesitation vanish. She kissed him with vigor, a pace he gladly matched as their hands
wrapped around one another.

It was that familiarity that finally made her relax, and though it didn't stop the tears from
falling, it grounded her in a way Brook hadn't been able to do for herself all these hours.

When she took in a breath of air, it wasn't pained.

It was Damian that pulled back first, panting rapidly as his hands took hold of her shoulders.

"You should lay down, my beloved. There are others who will be much less gentle in greeting
you once I open that door" he whispered.

Beloved. His beloved. How she'd missed that, feared she'd never hear it again.

Brooklyn knew better than to be surprised that the others were here, and she was a little more
than excited to see them. Still, she paused him from backing away, asking softly, "How are
you here? How is your family?"
Damian exhaled, hugging her one last time as he replied, "They are all at the compound, they
are all alive and relatively fine. Clark brought us here, and by some miracle, your father
allowed it"

Brook shook her head, smiling as she kissed his cheek one more time before making her way
back to the bed, finding the IVs connected to her arms were tangled from her little excursion.

By the time Damian quietly opened the door, Brooklyn was already seated in bed, trying had
not to show the extent of her joy and excitement as her friends started making their way
inside.

The first to rush over was the least expected, the one that made Brook's composure crumble
completely when she'd sworn to herself to remain strong for their sakes.

It was as Yelena ran over to her that Brooklyn felt the remainder of that sadness in her heart
snap away.

Despite both their injuries, Yelena didn't seem to give a shit as she slammed Brook back onto
the bed, their combined sobs like a tragic melody. They hugged tightly, unwilling to let go.

It occurred to Brook that this was the only time in her life in which she let someone other
than Damian touch her scars. Brooklyn did not flinch away as her sister's fingers practically
clawed at her back, as she whispered Russian greetings and apologies.

For once, Brook did not care, not when her sister was safe in her arms.

"Lena," Brooklyn whispered with a smile, "sestra, I thought I lost you too"

Yelena chuckled against Brooklyn's hair, muttering back, "You are never allowed to go away
like that again. Suka, I thought you were dead, should've known it would take more than that
to kill someone of our caliber"

Maybe Brook WAS a bitch, but she'd never been happier to hear an insult than it that
moment.

The reunion was only halted when a body moved to lay beside them, and it only took a few
seconds to realize it was Peter, clad in a hospital gown, crying at the sight of the two girls
reunited.

Yelena then moved to make space for Peter, letting him join in the hug.

The three neighbors embraced one another like they'd never let go. In fact, it wasn't long
before Harry and Ned pushed Brook into a seated position so they could hug her too.

Soon, there was a cocoon of embraces all around her, one Jon even managed to drag Damian
into.

It started out with mutual crying, a mess of tears and a complete inability to speak for all.
Then it turned into laugher as soon as Harry let out that first chuckle with the following
words, "The amount of luck we just experienced. I don't know about you guys, but I think we
should buy some lottery tickets to see if any of the Dynasty's godly luck remains"

The group found themselves laughing at the absurdity of it all, at the joy of being together
once more, all alive and well. Brooklyn couldn't remember a happier moment then, couldn't
even recall what her earlier pain had felt like.

At some point, they had all decided to fall asleep on that warm bed, exhausted from it all at
last. She had ended up in the middle, being embraced by Yelena on one side and with Brook
resting her head on Damian's shoulder on the other.

By some miracle, Jon had managed to squeeze in beside Lena, hugging her close.

Harry, Ned, and Peter were a jumble of embraces whose heads rested comfortably against
Brook's blanket-covered legs. The one time Brooklyn had woken up in the night, she'd
noticed Tanya by Harry's side, practically sleeping atop him, likely kicked off Damian's legs
by the Wayne himself.

MJ was resting by Peter's side peacefully on the other side, resting her head on his back, all
covered with a blanket of their own. Brooklyn knew she should've woken them up, that
getting caught in the morning would not only get her friends in trouble for sneaking in, but
having a Wayne here might enact dad's wrath.

But she didn't. Not after all that had happened.

Brook happily went back to sleep, resting her ear just where Damian's heart continued to
beat, a steady lullaby that quickly pulled her back into the realm of dreams.

That's how the morning nurse found them that morning. She had been close to having a heart
attack when in the midst of doing her rounds, she found Peter's and Yelena's beds empty.
She'd searched like a madwoman for them!

Seeing all the teens cuddled close in that small bed in Brooklyn Stark's room... it was her job
to report it, but she did not.

Instead, the elderly nurse gathered a few more blankets from a nearby linen closet and draped
them atop the teens. Then she closed the blinds and moved out into the hall to place signs on
Peter's and Yelena's beds so they would not to be opened. So no one would look for them.

She let the kids sleep till nine, and even then she did not report the incident, only helped
guide the sleepy teens back to their rooms or the waiting area where they belonged.

None of them looked like they wanted to be apart, some actually looked ready enough to
fight to stay together. It was the nurses word that those injured would be discharged in a few
hours that brought back the peace and sent everyone on their way.

Yes, that nurse did not even bother questioning what a Wayne (who was supposed to be
across the hospital wing) was doing with two Starks. She never mentioned it, and if her boss
(Mr. Stark) were to ask...well...she would've gladly broken her vow not to lie.
 She'd seen the faint traces of tear tracks on all their cheeks, for that she would keep the secret.

After all, they were just kids.

Chapter End Notes

Happy New Years! I was going to wait to release three chapters instead of two but I
wanted to give everyone a little treat to start off the year. The next chapter is actually
one of my favorites, its what happens when the Waynes find themselves in the amazing
world that is the Avengers' territory. I hope that once its finished, you will enjoy it as
much as I do!

I have very interesting chapters planned for this year aside from that too, hoping to
finish this book this year so we can move on to book 3!

Just a quick little note about this chapter;

I want to make it clear that I don't want to belittle the injuries the Dynasty suffered.
They went through things that most don't walk away from. Falling from a plane,
stopping a train, surviving explosions, getting shot, having a WHOLE building fall on
you.

These are severe things and the portrayal of their injuries as of now might make it seem
like it was no big deal, but it was.

They have technology that can literally stitch new skin so their wounds are not severe to
the eye now. Not to mention Peter can heal quickly. Then there are the sadder truths that
the ex-assassins have suffered through much worse injuries with much less treatment
than they got on this day. Pain is like a distant ache for them because their past made it
so.

That being said, I wanted to show that there are wounds even those built to withstand
physical pains could not withstand. That in this case, emotional wounds were just as
powerful an enemy or a mortal puncture. That even when you can heal or push back
pain, even then you don't walk away unharmed from a fight.
 The Compound
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Brooklyn POV-

Brook had told them she'd drawn the short stick in taking up this little assignment, but in
truth, she'd volunteered.

Not just because she believed her doing this would result in the least likely probability of a
fight arising, but because she wanted to see that the Waynes were ok in a way that wouldn't
seem suspicious.

Luckily, mom had allowed it, and dad had been too busy being dragged into a meeting with
Fury to know Brook was now tasked with taking the Waynes to a new location.

The Waynes were alright physically by now, of course, but because some of their wounds
were deep, they had to stay to get daily skin regeneration from the cradle to make sure
wounds didn't reopen in any way.

It was actually mom who assumed none of the Waynes would agree to leave if some of their
own had to remain in 'enemy territory', so she suggested accommodations be set up for them
outside the healing wing.

By the time Brook had arrived at their hospital room, FRIDAY had already informed the
family of this little change, and it seemed that the A.I. was able to knock some sense into Mr.
Wayne, since his complains seemed to be buried deep within.

As much as the Waynes (save for Damian and maybe Alfred) hated being here, they couldn't
argue with the sound logic that was the simple fact that the regeneration cradle was exclusive
to the Avenger's Compound, and the doctor who invented it was the only person in the world
who could make it work.

If Bruce Wayne wanted to risk the well-being of his kids just to leave this place, he'd at least
been talked out of it by the time Brook opened the double doors.

She'd been released from the emergency ward not five hours earlier, had enough time to meet
up with her family (that was still present and had not gone to provide relief efforts), let
herself shake with relief in her parents' arms, and to at least attempt to look presentable and
put together, enough that Bruce Wayne would never see her previous medical state as a
possible weakness.

Sure enough, when the Wayne family patriarch beheld Brooklyn standing on her own two
feet, wearing one of the elegant red coats mom had bought her not long ago, and being bold
(or perhaps stupid enough) to brave wearing matching heels, the teen was certain the Wayne
was wondering if she'd been injured at all.
In reality, her arm was like a constant dull pain by her side, and the fear that she'd been so
close to loosing the youngest Wayne present was still very much a thought in the back of her
mind since Damian was escorted back here this morning.

She'd only dared to take a peek at him once, half a second long at most, when she walked into
the sterile, yet elegant room. Brook had caught sight of Damian at the end of it, by the large
window which opened up to a view of the front lawn.

He looked well, unharmed, maybe a little annoyed. That was to be expected though, there
was something about Damian's siblings that always seemed to heighten his frown. Despite
that, she could still detect the almost invisible shock and relief to see her.

Invisible to others, never to her.

Brooklyn might've risked subtly explaining her presence to him with assassin code, but if her
memory served, more than one member of his family had their past as an assassin as well.
Risking it would be unwise, especially in front of the world's greatest detective and his
possibly equally as talented wards.

As soon as she stopped before the closest bed (belonging to none other than Dick), Brooklyn
could already feel multiple eyes watching her closely, down to every breath and blink of her
lashes.

It was with the expected confidence a Stark should have that Brooklyn greeted them all with
a close-lipped smile, even if it had almost faltered when Jason sent her a knowing grin.
Brooklyn would have to keep in mind that next time she spoke to said Wayne, she'd have to
stop him from making unnecessary death jokes after what could've transpired.

Still, she was glad the idiot was alive and kicking...

"I'm sure FRIDAY has mentioned this already, but I'm here to escort you to a new location"
Brook announced, eyes locking on Mr. Wayne, who didn't look as displeased to see her as
she'd prepared for. That didn't mean he was happy or relieved, if anything, Bruce's likely
contained displeasures seemed to threaten to burst in that very moment at the sight of a Stark.

"Where exactly will we be going?" Barbara asked, to which Brooklyn took a few seconds to
gather a response in her head, if only because she'd been examining the auburn woman's leg
braces for signs of any necessary fixes.

Braces the woman likely would never suspect came from Brook herself.

When all seemed to be in place, Brook replied, "I'm sure you can imagine my dad's
discomfort at having...unpleasant company in his home. It's why my mom suggested you
could all rest at the visitor's house, but you will of course, still be welcome back here for
treatment when needed" keeping her gaze on the window beyond, she added for both their
sakes, "The world doesn't really need many heroes at the moment, not when efforts right now
are towards rebuilding, not fighting. You can afford to stay and heal"
By some miracle, and the fact that Alfred and Dick were the first to follow her out of the
room, she managed to make her way out the hall with all the Waynes. The mortified workers
that passed by and got a look of the Waynes in the building quickly flattened themselves
against the walls, stared in awe at the impossible.

After all, who would ever think the Wayne family would be here of all places? Though
perhaps some of that shock was directed at her, not just for leading the group of family
enemies, but for being alive in the first place.

As far as she knew, both the Avengers and Justice League had elected to keep the identities of
those alive a secret. No one wanted to prompt Cobalus or the Joker to try their hands at
killing any of them after this huge tragedy.

Brooklyn Stark's living status would probably be released soon though, not really out of
choice despite the fact that she hadn't been targeted, but because the President was apparently
very eager to thank her in the eyes of the people. Or so dad mentioned.

Her friends all knew she was alive, her family and Damian as well, which was all she really
cared about. After the crushing fear of thinking they could've all been taken from her, she'd
walk on burning coals than for that to actually happen.

It made it slightly more difficult to seem impartial, to keep her gaze from Damian as they
made it down the hall. She was selfishly glad that he had to stay here a little bit longer, that
he and her friends could at least stay somewhere they could all be together.

With dangers still out there past the barriers of the compound, Brooklyn would've felt a
constantly growing unease if her team was far, if they were separated again. She would've
likely fought Fury himself if Damian was sent back to Gotham, a place the Joker was much
too familiar with.

That being said, she expected much of how this little Stark/Wayne arrangement would
go...she'd just failed to realize the extent of what having both families in one place could
entail. And it all started that afternoon, with Brook entering the large glass-walled elevator,
filled to the brim with Waynes.

Despite their impromptu stay, they were all dressed appropriately for the cold whether, their
clothes provided by the 'compound' considering their actual clothes were...not intact. She was
still willing to wager they had weapons under the coats they wore, a thought that made her
smile.

She wondered what Bruce Wayne would do if he knew his clothes belonged to THE Captain
America. How badly he would react if he found out the outfits some of his children wore
belonged to her dad, a taunt Tony would likely bring up at a later date. That would've surely
been amusing, but in an effort to avoid an argument before they even left the main building,
Brooklyn repressed her smirk as best she could.

Brook payed their staring no mind, trying her best not to look towards Damian on instinct as
she let the elevator scan her hand. Before security could freak, she gestured for the Waynes to
place their hands on the control panel.
To her surprise, none of Damian's siblings looked to her with suspicion and did just as they
were told. Bruce Wayne was the only one that eyed the elevator control with speculation, but
his wife and Alfred ended up practically nudging him towards it.

FRIDAY's voice then announced, 'Miss Stark, the others are not registered in our database'

"Leave it FRIDAY, they were temporary guests, no need to kill them" she replied with a
smirk to those behind her (one only Jason and Damian seemed tempted to return), and with
that, the giant glass rectangle began its descent to the lobby.

She wondered what dad would think when he saw the Waynes were cataloged on the
database as guests, wondered how long he'd let it stay that way.

On their way down, Brook noticed the Waynes kept their eyes open to every floor they
passed.

Their curious gazes lingered on the projects a few clusters of scientists carried, the trainees
sparring in an open hologram arena, and everything that was already just a common sight for
Brooklyn. The technological wonders, the ease in which the Compound functioned, the
beauty of it all...it was a wonder it no longer took her breath away.

She could tell Bruce was attempting to hide his own curiosity, it only made her bite back
another smirk. Brooklyn's home was not traditional in any sense, it was full of wonder and
luxury, but also a shared sense by every being here to work towards a better future.

This wasn't just a base of operations for the Avengers, or a private Stark residence. This was a
community, and a home. Was it odd? Yes. It had super soldiers, mutants, assassins, people of
all backgrounds to the point that seeing gods here wasn't much of a surprise. But there was
beauty in it, and though Bruce was guarded in his expressions, she could tell his family at
least took notice of some of that splendor as their eyes lingered on the flying bots delivering
documents past them, as people moved around with determination and smiles.

Falling out of that plane...there was a second where Brooklyn thought she'd never get to see
this again. But finally being back out here, it felt like things might truly get better soon.

Once at the lobby, when they stepped out of the elevator, the group was met with the usual
heavy flow of people making their way around the building, most either dressed in formal
wear, while others sported SHIELD suits.

Despite the attack, the inside of the building was unharmed, still the same luxurious space
she remembered with a futuristic sort of theme to its decoration. One made for functionality.

As Brook led the silent Waynes towards the exit, she found she was not at all bothered when
some of those people passing by greeted her by name, others making quick comments about
their joy of seeing her safe. None seemed surprised to see her alive, not likely when news of
her arrival to the compound had spread like wildfire.

Some even said they were glad to see one of their own was alive, back where she belonged.
Those were simple words, perhaps just common formalities, but inside, they made Brooklyn
breath a little easier...because she WAS back home.

Brooklyn was polite to them all with greetings of her own, easily dodging the passing flying
science bots with familiarity, making note of the large hologram wall to her right that
depicted the world, a wall which had likely been blinking with emergency signals since the
Joker's attacks.

The ladies in the main reception desk did more than just greet Brook as she passed though,
they chased after her with papers in hand.

Pausing briefly, Brooklyn let them hand over the papers with a smile.

"Miss Stark, it's good to see you on your feet!" the brunette secretary said, whom Brook
remembered as Harper, the lady who always greeted Brook during her weekend visits. She
was bound to be one of the hundreds of devastated women who'd all but die when they found
Grandpa Steve was dating someone.

People didn't hide their admiration for Steve very well here.

It was Harper who looked to the Waynes and paled, making sure to take a step back in
confusion, as were most of those walking by. Oh, the flow or rumors that would rise soon
enough...

Harper's companion, the curly haired Bianca was always more so the 'business first' of the
two. Despite her serious demeanor, Brook could tell the woman was for once, intimidated by
the guests. It was her that explained, "Stark Industries sent those documents over a few days
ago, its reports from your involvement in the Maria Stark Foundation. The other folder is for
your Sirota Foundation. I don't think you're expected to complete the work right away given
all that happened recently, but I can fax your replies as soon as you are ready"

"Has the Stark Relief Foundation been enacted?" Brook asked, to which Harper nodded
frantically, and even when she was clearly sneaking an appreciative look at the three elder
Wayne boys, she managed to reply nervously, "Since yesterday, Miss Stark"

Good.

Now that she wasn't dying, Brook had to accept that things were about to get busy, even if
dad would refuse to allow her to go out and help like the other Avengers. Even most of them
had been benched by Fury, with the reasoning that the world did not need heroes at the
moment when that could spark another retaliation.

They'd all have to do their best to help from SHIELD enacted seclusion.

Brooklyn smiled kindly at both women, thanking them before moving to guide the Waynes
out the door. She tucked the folders inside an inner pocket of her red coat, intent on looking
at them once this little task was done.

As soon as they walked out the large glass doors, it was Jason who 'casually' asked, "Oh,
miss future CEO is sooo busy. What's all that crap she was talking about? I never was as
good as dear Timmy when it came to fancy work"

Brooklyn looked back at the group, locking her gaze with Jason's mischievous eyes. Despite
his father's cold glare, Jason still made way towards her, hands inside the pockets of a leather
jacket Brook recognized as belonging to Uncle Sam.

She also heard Damian mutter not so silently, "You're not even good at regular work" which
earned a few giggles from his siblings Jason bluntly ignored.

"The Maria Stark Foundation promotes affordable housing, community centers, things like
that. I would think the Sirota Foundation is self explanatory enough" she replied, making a
show of rolling her eyes at Jason's slight bumping of her arm.

Damian, now standing beside Jason as if he were a silent ghost, held his usual glare as he
explained, "Sirota is Russian for orphan, you idiot"

Brooklyn actually had to work to at least TRY and summon an annoyed stare towards Dami,
something he returned given the audience both behind them, and around them. The flow of
SHIELD agents, office workers, scientists, and small vehicles on the road were enough for
them to be conscious of the roles they had to play, the animosity that had to remain between
them.

Locking her gaze on Bruce specifically, Brooklyn paused and explained, "I started that
foundation to help orphaned kids, so people don't take advantage of them...so their
orphanages are well funded too. We're working on fixing a few of the shitty laws orphaned
kids have to deal with, but we also host events and workshops for those kids who don't get
adopted"

Bruce didn't roll his eyes, but he eyed her curiously with those icy blue eyes as he asked,
"And why would you start such a thing?"

Brooklyn smirked at his mistake, motioning for the Waynes to follow her down the pebbled
road towards the other large and distant building. While stopping to help Alfred down the
few steps that led to that little walkway, she replied, "My dad was an orphan, and though you
won't believe me, I was an orphan for a time as well. I know all about the system and shitty
families. This is a personal matter I wanted to help fix. Weren't you the one that once told me
during my internship that I needed to have personal projects to do good in the world? I
might've forgotten to mention I already have a few...oops"

With the cold wind kissing her cheeks, she helped Alfred down the last steps, even extended
a hand out for Selina to use should her pregnant belly turn walking down complicated. Sure,
she had to play the Stark enemy role, but that didn't mean she had to be a bitch.

Selina, though still arm in arm with her husband, was surpassingly kind. She didn't hesitate to
send a smile Brook's way, taking her hand briefly and thanking her softly once they were all
on the path towards the SHIELD building in the distance.

Though Brook had moved back to leading the group, Alfred still held onto her arm, looping it
with his own much to Bruce's clear contained anger.
The old man kindly patted her hand, looking down at her with a gentle smile. "I think it's an
admirable cause, Mistress Brooklyn" the old man said, whom Brook was eternally grateful to
in more ways than one.

He'd clearly never said a thing to Bruce about her secret involvement with the Waynes' lives.
The times he'd caught her around Damian.

She really should've known that as a far as restraint came, Jason had none, especially if it
gave his father a heart attack. Jason was quick to take up her other side, playfully winding his
arm around her shoulders as he said, "I couldn't agree more with, Alfred. Helping orphans is
the stuff of guardian angels I've always said!"

Before Brook could contemplate if laughing at his jokes could be considered a fault in this
little game of 'playing the Wayne family enemy', she hadn't even realized they were already at
the entrance of the building they'd have to go through to go down to the guest living quarters.

She'd only realized because the two guards at the door quickly walked up to her, eyes locked
on the arm she used support Alfred with, and Jason's that was still lazily draped around her
shoulders.

"Good morning. Do you require assistance to walk, Agent Stark?" one of them asked, the
guard/ agent that had chased her, Lena, and Peter down a few weeks back when the three
teens played a harmless prank on Agent Claire (which had been Harley's idea by the way).

Despite the fact that they'd had him chasing them around the whole building, that they'd
expertly avoided him climbing along walls, summersaulting over his body, and likely made
him slip on the polished floors more than once when they evaded him, the man still greeted
her with a smile.

When he and his companion beheld the mass of Waynes behind her, they did not cower like
the secretaries, only seemed more alert and defensive by the looks of it. Especially at
Jason...and at Damian once they locked eyes with his deadly glare.

Again, in an effort to keep the peace, she shook her head at both guards with a smile.

"I'm simply guiding our temporary guests to a new location" she said, though that didn't stop
both men in SHIELD uniforms from trailing a healthy distance away from the group. She
suspected they feared disappointing dad more than they feared the Waynes, to be bold enough
to keep their guns at the ready behind them.

Thankfully, once they made it inside the large building, the temperature indoors was much
warmer. A small mercy.

The lobby itself was as guarded as any other part of the compound, though the true security
measure was the structure of the building. If this place ever went on lockdown, it was likely
not even an atomic bomb could breach the inside. Dad had made sure of it when building this
place, changing it from a Stark Industries warehouse to the safe haven it is today.
The agents milling about didn't look tense or worried by the breach in security from the
Joker's attack. If anything, they looked determined never to let it happen again. That being
said, many still greeted Brook with smiles and relieved sighs once they saw their fellow agent
on her feet.

Because of the time of day, the eastern side of the lobby was open to the elements, revealing
the large landing zones for the Quinjets and Helicarrier which could be seen landing or
ascending to go help those in need across the globe, likely with relief supplies.

Those machines, much like everything here was powered by dad's reactor core. Inventions of
his that not only made the Iron Man suit possible, but created a sort of sustainable energy to
power this place. To protect it.

Much like back at the Avengers Building, the Waynes' eyes strayed to every nook of this
place, gazes lingering on the technological wonders and the unity that was the new SHIELD.
It was they passed by The Wall of Valor, a place where the names of fallen agents were
honored, one of Damian's sisters inquired.

"They call you agent here. Why?" the blonde said.

Of course that wouldn't have gone over their heads.

With a grin back at Stephanie, who Brook mostly knew as Damian's most energetic female
sibling and the one who always persisted him to change his fashion sense or tried to make
him laugh, the Stark simply said, "I'm a level five agent of SHIELD. I'm cleared for field
missions and decent clearance on the data base. What did you think my job was?"

Stephanie, despite the accident, looked like a supermodel. Not a hair out of place, and even in
Wanda's borrowed clothes (which were borderline gothic chic), the woman looked just as put
together as any Wayne should be. Her smile and curious eyes were a little child-like though,
contained no anger or prejudice against Brook, which was a surprise in its own.

"I thought with the hero work you do in Queens and school, plus all that company heir
stuff...I don't know. I guest I never thought someone like you would have a job" Stephanie
said honestly, earning a not so subtle elbow jab from both her other sisters. Barbara and...the
other must be Cassandra, the other League member. The one once tasked with keeping
Damian safe, one who hadn't said a word as of yet.

Unwinding herself gently from Alfred, then slapping Jason's arm away (which he chuckled
at), Brook moved to stand before the monument they'd been about to walk by.

It read;

The Wall of Valor

In honor of the members of SHIELD who gave their lives in service of humanity

'Wars may be fought with weapons, but are won or lost by men' Gen. George S. Patton
The Waynes circled around it, making the crowds and their escorts nothing but background
noise behind them. Brook had stared at this monument many times when she'd come in for
training, stared at the three hundred or so names displayed, many dating back to the founding
of SHIELD in 1941.

Brooklyn moved forward, the sound of her heels resonating against the polished floors.
Perhaps it was due to the fact that she shouldn't be alive, that Brook had only made it out
thanks to chance, but she stretched out a gloved hand to gently trace some familiar names, the
first of which had the SSR logo from back in the day.

Names of those thought dead that had found their way back in this world.

Srg. Bucky Barnes.

Cpt. Steven Rogers.

With a smile, she moved to the wall beside the monument, where portraits of the founders of
SHIELD rested with golden plaques and varying medals.

Howard Stark was there, as was Aunt Peggy (possibly grandma Peggy?).

With a smile on her face, standing before Howard's portrait, Brooklyn stated, "I guess you
could say it's in my blood to be a part of this. Plus, as Mr. Wayne loves to point out to me, I
have debts to make up for. What better way to do it than to be a part of an agency built for
good, one my grandfather helped found?"

From somewhere behind her, the tired looking Wayne, Tim, stated bluntly, "SHIELD was
infiltrated by Hydra before. How can you be so sure you work for the good guys now?"

"For the same reason you lot are staying here in lavish living quarters. Only the most trusted
agents remain here, all of them live at the compound for security reasons. That is also why
your secret identities are safe as well" she stated, sneaking one last glance at her ancestors
before guiding the Waynes back on their path.

They passed the main desk with little trouble, FRIDAY must've already announced the reason
for their arrival, because no one asked to see the insides of the Wayne's briefcases where their
suits were safely stashed away.

It was once they made it to the middle of the large lobby that the other floors above them
could be seen, and though most rooms' windows were tinted black for privacy, agents could
still be seen milling about, some in simple SHIELD t-shits and joggers coming out in groups
after a training session. Others were clad in the agency's leathers ready to go out into the
field, the SHIELD eagle crest shining brightly on their chests as they passed.

As they made it deeper into the building, Brook noticed the Waynes looked less tense than
before. Whatever weapons they had hidden under their jackets or coats remained out of sight.
And thanks to the vast distraction of those around her, Brook was able to sneak a glance at
Damian without their knowing.
Though she'd likely never admit it, Brook was hoping that with Damian seeing this side of
her life, something she hadn't been able to share much of till now, that he might look at it all
and...well, she wasn't sure...Brooklyn just wanted him to see it.

The slight lessening of his frown her way was answer enough.

He saw all of her, saw this new bit, and didn't think any differently of her.

Fighting back a smile at the response, Brook's attention was quickly snapped when she heard
Dick gasp. Expecting something like the Joker or a bomb after recent events, Brook got into a
fighting stance and moved her gaze to where the eldest Wayne was looking, which was above
them.

She almost rolled her eyes when she realized it was just Vision flying by, gold cape following
behind him. So he was finally back from his mission, good, Brook had missed him.

When Vis caught sight of her, he made quick and effortless work of landing by her side. As
soon as he did, the faint glow of the yellow stone on his forehead dulled, it felt like it had
gone from silently calling out to her, to just feeling like...a familiar presence.

Vis was kind and thoughtful for an A.I., the poor thing was still struggling with things that
came easily to others like jokes, not fazing into rooms unannounced, or just simple comforts
(with Wanda being the clear exception). Now that Brooklyn didn't feel nearly as apprehensive
as she had of him in the beginning, Brook didn't hesitate to go over and wrap him in an
embrace.

"Good to see you don't need bolts screwed back in place after this chaos, brother" she said,
stepping back to smile up at him.

She was glad to see he refrained from telling her that as a machine, he was incapable of
having siblings. Vision no longer thought the addressing of him as family was odd, though
he'd yet to call Brook and her siblings as such.

With that soothing English accent reminiscent of dad's old A.I., Vision replied intelligently, "I
calculated your chances of survival from the plane crash to be less than 10 percent. For once
I'm glad the numbers were wrong"

Brook smirked at his way of affection.

"Yeah, me too. See you for family dinner tonight?"

Vision, once again, knew better than to mention the obvious fact of his lack of appetite or
ability to eat. Instead he just nodded, greeted the Waynes almost robotically, then went back
on his way, phasing through the wall on her right.

With a shake of her head, Brook was ready to continue their path, only she was stopped by
Mrs. Wayne asking, "That's your brother?"

After a quick shrug, she replied, "For lack of a better term, yes. Vis is not officially adopted
or anything, but if you were to ask anyone here, they'd tell you Vis is a Stark. Just as much as
my brother Harley is or my sister Yelena."

Ignoring the outright confused looks of some of the Waynes, mostly Stephanie and Jason,
Brook noticed as all their attention was snagged by more familiar faces.

Off by the elevators, Nat and Grandpa Steve seemed to have reunited at last, not giving a shit
about the flow of human traffic as Steve hugged her sestra with relieved vigor. It was almost
movie-like in its raw emotions and perfection.

Though Brook wanted nothing more than to go hug them tight after they too had survived
serious injuries, she couldn't help but stay where she was when she noticed the two kiss.

Ardently.

It seemed that near death experiences finally made the secret come out.

Much like Brook, it seemed SHIELD as a whole was glad for the pair, some outright relieved
that their clear chemistry was noticed and acted on.

Some of the people beside her, like the elder Waynes, looked mystified at the sight of the two
well known Avengers.
But their gaping mouths only widened at the sight of the kiss, as if they couldn't quite fathom
it.

Only because they'd never seen those two up close, even a blind person could've seen how
much Nat and Steve cared for one another.

Once the rumors of the confirmed relationship spread, dad would no doubt have a few jokes
ready for dinner which would earn him a death promise from Nat for sure.

Throwing the iconic shield between Nat and himself, as if he were saying 'the fight is over,
lets rest', the two blondes moved to the elevators hand in hand, with Rogers looking bright as
a tomato once he noticed their audience, and Natasha glaring as if she was daring any of
those poor agents to comment.

Now with Lena's relationship out of the bag, her sister might just join dad in his endless jokes
tonight without fear of Nat brining up her closeness with Jon.

Yeah, that was bound to be fun.

Then came the noise.

The sounds of clapping and cheering were not for the Avengers pair though, but for another
duo. The commotion came from their left where Wanda was outside using her scarlet magic
to levitate broken trees from the explosion towards the forest.

Pete was soon swinging above their heads in his Spider-man suit, broken metal pieces in
hand that he seemed to be taking to some of the research levels for analysis, no doubt
revoked alien weapons from the attack.
He did however swing by just low enough to slow himself to a stop before hee. Pete gave her
a huge hug (one of many this day alone) as he whispered, "Hey Brook! Still doing ok?"

Brooklyn patted his masked head fondly, glad to see he was doing much better, and amused
he'd managed to talk dad into letting him help. Then again, Pete likely would've paced
through the rug in his room if he was left to do nothing now that he was fully healed.

She nodded, "Not a scratch"

It was then that Pete took note of the Waynes with a muffled curse, yet still waved Damian's
way in a friendly manner, which Damian of course did not return with anything more than a
nod. If Bruce fount it odd, he did not show it.

Stephanie and Peter did greet one another with familiarity and kindness, but Brook was
actually more surprised to see many of the Wayne children were caught between awe and
anger when they beheld Spider-man.

What was their deal? Why were they looking between her and Pete like they'd both
committed a crime together?

Thankfully, those glares went right over Pete's head. Spidy was back to swinging to the
eighth floor when a group of people exited the fifth conference hall a few doors in front of
them.

At first, Brook was just going to usher the Waynes forward, thinking nothing of it, until she
noted the black leather suits, each marked with different colored accented lines.

Then she saw the man in a wheelchair exit the room and Brook immediately smiled.

Professor Storm and Logan were the first to catch sight of her, with Professor Jean following
suit next to Xavier's wheelchair.

The white haired woman didn't hesitate to hug her, even if Logan seemed content with
acknowledging Brook with a simple grunt. Jean and Xavier greeted her with wide smiles, and
Brooklyn was too shocked by their presence here to question as to why they and the other X-
men were even here, she could only return their grins.

Xavier, as always, made life easier.

He explained, "We've come to help however we can. Though I'm so glad to see you're
alright"

Brooklyn smiled down at the man shaking his hand as she found herself asking, "Are you
sure, Professor? Don't you usually just work in the shadows? Why come to SHIELD?"

It was Jean, hair fiery red that shone almost gold in the light of the lobby that explained, "We
can't stay in the shadows when things like these happen, and we owe you. We heard what
happened and originally came to help track you down"
At her widened eyes that practically screamed, why?, Storm said gently, "You're one of our
students. One of our own. The world is in a much better stance when it comes to mutants
thanks to your efforts, which is why the Professor thought our presence in the public helping
rebuild might be...more welcomed"

Brook could do nothing but smile for a second, not only because these amazing people (even
Logan) were willing to help out in the pubic eye at last, but also because they'd taken to
trouble of worrying for her.

She would've had to visit them soon enough anyways for her training, which Logan had been
happy to intensify since her little mishap with the power inside her. But she was so glad to
see them now.

It wasn't until the professor introduced himself and the others to the Waynes that Brook
realized he gave Damian a knowing look. Sure, the professor had been inside he head many
times, Jean as well. They likely knew that there was a Stark and Wayne in this world that did
not hate one another, but it didn't hit her till then that they had the power to reveal something
very serious in front of Damian's family.

Thankfully, whatever his thoughts on her and Damian were, the professor kept them out of
this meeting. Though she was sure the kinder greeting Xavier gave Damian was not missed
by his family.

Xavier did lock eyes with Brook once before the X-men departed on their way. A knowing
look that only confirmed her suspicions of what he knew. The professor had shaken his head
her way, not in disapproval of any sort, but a clarification that the secret would remain
between them, Jean, and himself.

He didn't need to tell her telepathically for her to understand, and the relief that their secret
would remain that, a well guarded secret, made her want to collapse on the ground.

A bullet was dodged, something she'd have to tell Damian about once they got a chance to be
alone, if that was even possible here.

The group thankfully continued their walk without any knowledge of the silent conversation
with Xavier, instead, with Brook answering various inquiries from the Waynes like;

Are those the secret mutant heroes? from Jason, to which she nodded.

So you ARE a mutant? from Tim, to which she amusedly shrugged without clarifying a yes
or no. Damian had told her Tim had wasted many hours trying to figure out what technology
she used to create her fire, she could give her Dami a few more months of amusement by not
bothering to clarify.

The questions only halted when she caught sight of more familiar faces on the floor above
them. Three familiar figures walked on the railed hallway with the grace of royals. Well, they
WERE royals. Apparently, the Avengers Compound was hosting many more people than
Brook thought.
King T'Challa and Princess Shuri from Wakanda were walking side by side, clearly heading
to the research facility. One of the Dora Milaje behind them. No doubt dad had called them,
and no doubt the Wakandans had agreed to do their part to send aid to the world.

Shuri was the one that caught sight of them, leaning on the railing to shout down her name
and Damian's with familiarity. They hadn't seen one another since their visit to Wakanda with
Yelena and Jon, back when Brook had first become aware of her abilities.

No doubt she'd have to make some time to flag down Shuri so she could thank the princess
for the vibranium bracelets currently on her wrists, keeping her powers at bay. They'd also
have to talk about the Stark Expo, but hopefully, she'd get a chance to just discuss things
other than business.

It had been a long time since they'd seen one another.

T'Challa sent her and Damian a grateful nod as well, it seemed he hadn't forgotten who'd
fought by his side long ago. At some point Damian had made his way beside her, a decent
distance between them of course. Thankfully, Dami was not keen on glaring at the king, the
nod he sent the royal could be considered good manners on his part actually.

If Mr. Wayne was shocked to see the Wakandans here, he did not let it show. In fact, he'd
been quite good at hiding both his distaste and other emotions... up until they passed right by
the room the X-men had come out of.

When Fury came out of it, clad in his black coat, matching eye patch, and usual 'no nonsense'
frown, he did not bother introducing himself as he stood in their way. Fury had never been
the type for formalities anyways.

His displeased frown was not directed at her, but at Bruce and his family.

Then it hit her...Fury and her instructors had once told her not to be like Red Hood (Jason),
and Fury had personally expressed his distaste for Batman's methods. It was likely the only
thing he and dad could converse about in full agreement.

It suddenly dawned on her that Fury intercepting them might not end up well, the thought
alone made her sigh tiredly as she muttered, "I'm escorting the Waynes to the visitors
penthouse", the most roundabout way of asking him to step aside.

He, of course, did not.

Fury was quick to reply, "I know. I believe there is someone who might have a few words
about that actually"

At her raised brow, Fury turned towards the room he'd just exited, where dad walked out of
with a confident grin, the exhaustion of his worries now gone.

Shit.

Though his gaze locked on Brook first as he moved to hug her, it quickly snagged on Bruce.
Suddenly, it felt like this large space had become considerably smaller with both men staring
daggers at one another. It felt like cold water had been dumped on her, a cruel reminder that
even standing three feet apart from Damian was unacceptable in the eyes of both families.

Though dad's eyes held their sights on Mr. Wayne, smirk taunting the taller man to do
something stupid, he still asked her, "What are YOU doing taking these people there,
Daphne? I thought you'd wait for your friends to come back with their belongings for their
stay here?"

Brook was careful with her next words, very aware of who she was meant to be...and what
Damian was meant to be to her.

"Harry isn't coming back till tonight. MJ and Tanya are barely on their way with Ned, thought
I might as well help around the compound is all" she said.

Dad smirked then.

"You're a great kid for volunteering" Tony said, lazily taking out his phone to show them
all...was that the President?

He was in the middle of a speech, looking relatively unharmed save for a wrapped bandage
on his left hand.

And this was a public broadcast.

Brooklyn had to fight the urge to roll her eyes when she realized what dad's angle to piss off
Bruce Wayne was. She'd expected him to at some point bring up his kind offer to take them
in as a way to boast superiority over his enemy. Instead, he was boasting about her.

She should've known Damian being dad's intern would come bite her in the ass one day...that
instead of bridging their family differences (something she'd also hoped to accomplish with
this tour to show Bruce her family wasn't so bad), it would make for more ammunition in the
centuries old conflict.

The broadcast seemed to have strayed from the address of the president to its grieving nation,
discussing the damages and lives lost and turning into something hopeful, a pretty tale to
spark hope on his subjects once more.

The president was speaking of her...Brooklyn Stark, his savior and that of the others on that
plane. He'd been wrong in assuming the suit was dad's, but he still mentioned she'd been the
one that chose to save them all in the end.

And inspiring act of bravery from a harmless citizen.

He no longer thought of Harley as the one who'd take the mantle of Iron Man, it seemed that
now he was intent on selling her image as the next Stark to take the position.

The Iron Maiden he called her.

Fantastika. Fantastic.
Now she had one more identify to add to the list!

Repressing a groan, Brooklyn was about to argue that her acts during that day had been
nothing but common decency, especially as a government agent, as the Waynes were now
aware of.

Unfortunately, Bruce beat her to it.

"What are you implying, Stark?" Bruce said, stepping away from his wife's side, his family
now behind him as he faced dad with only a few inches between them. Brook and Damian
stood off to the side, adjacent to their parents as if they too were facing off in this arising
conflict.

Almost like there was indeed a line between their families.

"I'm implying that your son, dear Mc Glare here, needs to catch up to my daughter's greatness
is all. I must say, I'm glad he's alright though, wouldn't want all that paperwork on his intern
desk to grow cold" dad said, lazily taking off his blue shades before swinging an arm around
her shoulders.

As a Stark, she should've verbally agreed, should've taunted the Waynes further. But no
matter how much she tried to get her mouth to move, to say something she didn't mean...she
just couldn't do it.

Bruce didn't smile, nor did he move to attack dad.

Instead, the Wayne patriarch just calmly stated, as if he were speaking of the weather, "You
seem to forget that behind all this false praise, your daughter has a dark past, Anthony. I
suppose it was easy for you to look past it, given your weapon manufacturing days, all the
lives YOU took in the name of a public image"

Much like her, Damian remained silent by his father's side, either out of equal inability to
speak ill of her, or perhaps because he too realized in that moment that this fight would not be
Bruce vs Tony...but Brooklyn vs Damian.

Fury did nothing as the discussion heightened, and despite the gentle nudges from Alfred and
Bruce's wife, the Batman did not back down. Not even those walking past them dared to stick
around, like they knew the force of such conflict would have serious repercussions. Like an
erupting volcano.

She could tell both men were stressed, that the events of these past days had made them
anxious and angry. Brooklyn knew they were taking it all out on each other, but she'd never
expected things to go as far as they did.

"Then perhaps it is time we settle this little argument, see who has the better heir" dad
suggested eventually, "I'm not saying we should call the WWE, but perhaps a trial of skill
will be a good test since both our kids are relatively unharmed now"
She'd expected Bruce Wayne to see the taunt, to realize the childish nature of dad's
suggestion, something he'd only said to prove that he thought Brooklyn was just as superior
to Damian as Firestar was to Robin.

But hopelessness was blinding, anger weakening. Even the great Batman was not immune to
either.

"I assume this monstrous place has a decent place for a well mannered spar? If so, with the
clearance of doctors, we SHOULD settle this matter. If we have to continue working together
to bring down Cobalus, it might be time we settle who should be in charge. The Justice
League or the Avengers"

This argument had escalated from family drama to hero superiority, and Brook and Damian
had somehow found themselves in the middle of it.

Both their parents held such blatant beliefs that they would come out victorious that when
they looked down at their respective child...Brook knew they had no choice but to agree to
the one thing she promised herself never to do.

Fight Damian.

This wasn't just about a petty argument anymore, they'd brought the Avengers and Justice
League into this. It was about family, the founding structure of their being.

It didn't matter how much she cared for Damian and he about her, their parents expected
results, and both teens valued their fathers' approval too much to try and come up with an
excuse to not make such a fight happen.

They could only nod, then glare at one another as if the past months of their lives had not
happened.

They'd hit a corner they could not escape...and she was terrified of how it would turn out for
more than one reason.

1. Brook and Damian were both skilled fighters, and if one or the other had held a physical or
skilled advantage over the other, that was no longer relevant. They'd trained and fought as
one for too long, knew their fighting stiles, strengths, and weaknesses too well...and that
could show. If either of them tried to hold back, there was a chance their families would
notice that too.

2. They'd sworn not to hurt one another, ever. After all this destruction with the Joker, that
belief had only heightened after they thought they'd lost one another. If any of them COULD
deal a heavy blow (even with the promise of the regeneration cradle a building away) she had
a feeling neither of them would take it. Yes...that hesitation would show.

3. They both cared about one another so deeply it scared her sometimes...but they both loved
their families. Just as much as Brook aspired to make dad proud, she knew Damian was
driven by the same force. It would've happened eventually, something that would've made
them realize their family duties were pulling them apart. Neither of them wanted to
disappoint their own, which meant they'd have to fight for real.

The agreement was not sealed with a handshake between the men, only with the promise
from Fury to have the training arena ready by tomorrow.

Once dad was called over to meet Shuri, Brook had to resume her escort in silence (much to
dad's annoyance).

She led them out of the SHIELD building, already hearing the gossip around her spreading as
she went. She couldn't even look Dami in the eye as she led them back out to where the
cluster of residential buildings lay down the small hill.

The small villa was elegant in its simplicity, with vintage light posts, a small park, concrete
pathways, and twenty-floor buildings with small apartments for every SHIELD agent.

Her mind was too busy swirling with the promise of tomorrow to look around much. It was
only when they made it to the small home at the edge of the villa, that Brook snapped out of
her thoughts to lead them inside.

Her hand unlocked the door with ease, and she quickly left them to decide how they'd split
the eight bedrooms without a verbal jab or a taunt. She only mentioned Starfire was set to
arrive in an hour, that Superman had mentioned something about Jon bringing Damian's
rowdy pets later.

If any of them thought anything of her silence, she hoped they reasoned it might be
determination, or that Bruce's words about her had somehow gotten under her skin.

The last thing she'd heard was Jason's surpassingly nervous voice as he spoke to his mother's
belly. She could see him lean down to say, "Well you already lived through your first near
death experience, congrats. Now you get to hear your first Wayne-Stark conflict"

Damian, who she dared to look at on her way out, merely slapped the back of Jason's head on
his way towards the stairs of the cabin-like space.

He said, sounding serious and angry, "Babies don't develop ears till the 18th week, he or she
can't hear you idiot"

It mattered little if that baby knew what was going on. That fight would happen, and neither
teen could do anything about it.

An angry Pepper had not been able to make dad put an end to it. A worried Nat and Steve
had not been able to rationalize a way out. Aunt may, who was also staying at the compound
for now, had also tried to argue against the fight with little success.

The doctors had cleared both teens for a fight, and Doctor Cho had promised to be on call to
heal any injuries in any case.

Brook hadn't been able to tell the team she didn't want the fight to happen, not when they
only knew she and Damian had come to a peace agreement of sorts due to their hero jobs.
 They only knew the bare minimum of their friendship.

Yelena understood, paced Brook's room the way Jon likely was in Damian's temporary
residence at the luxurious cabin all the way across the compound territory. None of them
could think of an excuse to stop this little fight, not when it was clear Fury had allowed it not
out of pettiness, but because given the severity of the upcoming conflict, deciding who would
be in-charge was essential for the heroes success.

If peace talks and meetings hadn't been able to establish that yet...Fury, dad, and Bruce
must've assumed violence would do the trick.

What Brook didn't know is that on the Wayne side of things, Selina had done anything in her
power to snap sense into her husband. That Alfred had tried to put it to a stop as well, even
going as far as to give Bruce the silent treatment. Damian's siblings had tried to argue as well,
fearing this fight might just put both teens back into a place of hate, and they already had
Peter Parker as an obstacle when it came to wanting to see Brook and Damian together.

When members of the Justice League had arrived, Diana and Clark had almost thrown Bruce
to the distant lake when they heard about what was to happen tomorrow. Even Jon's family
had been a little apprehensive since they knew Brook, and Yelena was dating one of their
own. In their eyes Stark rivalries held no ground or basis to constitute such a fight.

Both Brook and Damian hadn't bothered to refute the fight in fear it might rise suspicion. So
they stayed in their rooms for the most part, letting the world think they wanted this fight,
save for Lena and Jon.

Both ex-assassins would rather go out and fight all of Cobalus' army and allies together than
to fight one another. They didn't want to be that enemy rivalry, the strength of the
descendants of Justice League vs the Avengers, the past of the Red Room vs the League of
Villains, all to see if the Waynes or Starks were superior.

It made Brooklyn feel sick, and even if the internal instinct to win ran strong both in her and
Damian, she wasn't sure either of them could rely on it to make the fight believable.

What fucking mess this had turned out to be...

Chapter End Notes

Hello everyone! Sorry for the long absence but my studies took a hold of my life
recently and I was only able to get back to writing recently.

I was going to release 3 chapters in this update but figured since its been such a long
time, you might all prefer to at least get one right now and hopefully get the others soon
instead of one long wait.
Hopefully this chapter has you excited for what's to come. It won't just be this Stark vs
Wayne fight you have to look forward to! There might also be more Dynasty moments
coming, some unexpected guests, and perhaps even a big revelation on its way.

Again, I hope you will look forward to what's to come. I'm so glad to be back to writing
and am excited to see what you think! I've missed you all!
 Brooklyn vs/& Damian
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Brooklyn and Damian POV-

This was beyond sanity, past the point of no return.

For once in her life, Brook didn't want to fight, so much as lift up one of the weapons on her
person. But neither her or Damian had a choice in the matter, not when this involved their
fathers and the rest of their families, people who needed to be convinced both teens hated one
another for the sake of hiding something greater.

The worst part was that they wouldn't even be able to pull their punches, that neither of them
had the time to figure out a way to work past this predicament.

She loved her family, and Damian loved his, both teens wouldn't say it out loud most days,
but they cared deeply for their fathers' approval. Just as Brook would hate to see the
disappointment in her dad's face if she lost against their greatest family enemy, she knew
Damian felt the same.

That left them with only one reasonable option...to fight, without holding back. They'd not
only be truly fighting for the title of victor, but they'd have an audience that could sniff out
oddities like hounds.

Natasha had always been very perceptive, scarily so. Similarly, Damian had told her time and
time again that his father being the greatest detective in the world, was not always an
exaggeration.

But, the thought of causing Damian pain...

Long ago, the two teens had promised to protect one another, caressed one another's scars
with silent promise that no more would appear as long as the other was there. Now here they
were, standing in the large underground SHIELD training arena, soon forced to deal painful
blows for the sake of family.

It was ironic really. Usually one fought people they didn't like, but here they were, two stupid
teens about to fight one another because they cared too much for the other.

With a steading breath, Brooklyn finally opened her eyes at the sounds of the gates before her
opening. Even as her heart nearby beat out of her chest, as her mind begged Brook to turn
around and leave this torture behind, she remained.

Once the metal doors opened, they revealed a sight Brook had not been expecting, at least not
to this extent.
The large SHIELD training arena was just a little smaller than a football field, even thought
the stands surrounding it were enough to house hundreds if not thousands of people. Such an
arena was useful when large groups needed to be trained or when large scale evaluations
needed to be conducted.

Today, such a place was host to a battle never before seen. At last, a Stark and Wayne would
raise arms against one another beyond insults and petty squabbles. This was a test of skills, or
as she'd heard some whisper on her way here, 'a battle between the future of the two most
well-known hero groups of their time'.

She'd heard many of those in attendance speaking earlier, mentioning that if Brooklyn didn't
win this fight, that could mean a downfall of the next Avengers might be more probable.
Other agents had full faith in her, because she was one of them, they said.

Though not all of SHIELD knew Damian Wayne was Robin, most had been told he had an
impressive training regimen in various martial arts. Of course to those agents, they'd think the
girl they'd seen spouting fire out of her hands, obliterating level after level of the training
programs, could win easily.

The truth was, Brooklyn wasn't sure who would reign victorious this morning, even if both
teens used their full skill sets. Damian knew her weaknesses and strengths better than anyone,
just as she knew his. Not only that, but at this point she knew him well enough that most of
their thoughts were easily shared with a simple look. It might all come down to who could
look past their emotions, who would dare summon some of that earlier hatred from their first
meetings.

Either way, whoever won, there would be no victor.

She supposed it was no surprise this impromptu event had drawn such a crowd. Nearly every
seat was occupied by cheering SHIELD agents whose screams shook the very ground Brook
stood on. Most of their faces were shrouded in shadow, the only lights present being that of
the screens propped along the curved walls, and the five large beams of light encompassing
the actual fighting arena in an almost-angelic glow.

It was then that Brooklyn noticed a metal door on the other side of the arena had been
opened, another entrance onto the main fighting ground all the way across from her. One
which Damian stood in front of.

They hadn't gotten a chance to meet up to try and talk about a plan. She hadn't been able to
catch a glimpse of Damian all morning, not when he was back in the housing village and she
was stuck in the Avengers Compound, doing her best to avoid everyone she knew before the
fight.

If only they'd had a few minutes to figure out something they could try and pull off, both of
them would've likely deemed the risk worth it.

This far from one another and with thousands of eyes on them, Brooklyn didn't even dare
behold him with anything other than hatred. He did the same.
Before either of them had to step into the smooth ground of the arena, a few announcements
were made, most of which were about cautionary precautions about not jumping down onto
the arena where flames were likely to become a very obvious danger.

Brooklyn didn't plan on summoning such power today, in fact, her vibranium bracelets were
carefully hidden under the twin golden bracelets she wore. She could always tell dad that
summoning flames was still something that made her cautious, but in truth, she didn't want
Damian to see such power in a negative light, not when he always beheld them as a symbol
of warmth and light.

That wasn't the only symbol she had to carry the burden of today though.

Brook stood in the darkness of the tunnel entrance in a standard issue skin-tight black suit
with the shield emblem on one arm, the Avenger's crest on the other. A reminder of why she
was standing here in the first place.

But she was also here as a Stark.

The golden bracelets she'd worn today were not decorative in any sense, but technology she
and dad had worked on last night to appease his own nervousness at sending her into battle.
Much like her Stark watch, these utilized nanotech to shift into hand blasters (though Brook
had made sure the lasers were weak enough only to bruise and aid in flight).

Her onyx colored boots had powered boosters at their soles, for which the source of their
power was a prototype nanotech reactor that glowed bright blue on her chest, secured against
the fabric of her clothes.

The daughter of Iron Man, through and through.

Far off, she was glad to see Damian had been given appropriate battle attire as well, but it
was familiar enough that even this far away she could see it couldn't possibly be SHIELD
issued. Though made of similar leathery fabric to her own, Damian's black ensemble
consisted of loose black pants, knee high boots(no doubt filled with weapons of some sort),
the top sleeveless, clinging to his fit chest, showing off the bare and generous muscles of his
arms.

Were they in a different situation, she would've admitted Damian looked rather handsome,
that the ensemble of black suited him, brought out the beauty of his dark emerald eyes.

But they were here for battle, in which looks and beauty held no grounds.

Familiar twin swords were strapped to his back, and Brook could barely make out the glint of
what must be batarangs hidden in the holsters of his pants against the darkness of the
entrance he stood in.

In fact, she could barely make up another glint on his shirt, one from a symbol on the right
side of his chest, higher up towards the collar of his shirt. Well...two.
One was made of golden metal, which she only got a good look at once the screens atop the
walls of the arena focused on Damian. A letter J and L, in the middle of them a star carved
between the letters. The well known symbol of the Justice League.

The other symbol below it was a simple and even more familiar, a simple R. The symbol of
Robin, the son of Batman.

Those were the symbols HE carried today.

Just as Brook was representing the Avengers and SHIELD, Damian had his own allegiances.
For once, at least here and now, those allegiances did not overlap. Actually, they couldn't be
further loyalties from one another, just like the two of teens, standing an arena apart.

With cameras on them now, they couldn't do anything else but glare at one another. Couldn't
do much but think of the words both their fathers had told them minutes ago when they too
had stood beside them at these opposing mouths of this arena.

Tony Stark had beamed at his daughter proudly, bringing her into a hug as he muttered
something about giving her permission to kick a Wayne's ass, something he hoped she
wouldn't think to continue at school after this. As if she'd be glad to hurt Damian.

Better to take out your anger on McGlare where you won't get into trouble, dad had said with
a chuckle.

Before leaving he'd kissed the top of Brooklyn's head and added, "To hell with anything Fury
might say, in this moment, you're an Avenger. Defend out honor as one of us, Daphne"

With that he'd left.

On Damian's side of things, his father had stood stoically by his side and only said, "We can't
let someone like Stark think he has control over the Justice League. We know the Joker best,
so it should be up to us to lead the mission. Make sure that happens"

Damian had only rolled his eyes at the words, but knew a command when he heard one. He
couldn't even argue about the fact that knowing the Joker best, his father and the Justice
League SHOULD be in charge of this mission and all upcoming ones to stop Cobalus.

The thing that had made Damian bite his tongue had been the arguable point that his father
had never done anything to put a permanent end to the Joker, something that had led them
here. That and the fact that the thought of defeating Brook felt like acid against his skin,
made the katanas on his back feel heavier than ever before.

Back of Brook's side of things, the girl's gaze slowly shifted to the stands as the teens were
finally called to come out. As soon as her feet hit the patented ground and warm lights hit her
skin, her eyes were drawn towards familiar faces.

Behind her, right atop the mouth of the entrance she'd just excited, was her family right by
the railings, rows of agents behind them cheering. The stage lights barely lit the concerned
faces of her mom and brother, both of which stood beside a very excited dad who shot her a
thumbs up in encouragement.

Beside dad were the Avengers, all of which had returned from their various assignments just
to witness this mess by the looks of it. Though Uncle Sam and Uncle Scott often didn't see
eye to eye in most things, save for their admiration for Grandpa Steve, the two were cheering
just as loudly along with those behind them.

Uncle Rhodey, as expected, merely shot her an encouraging nod. He was a military man, the
War Machine, and despite being dad's best friend, he'd never been one to enjoy events with
such...numbers and excitement. If he couldn't tell War Machine stories, it was likely a waste
of time in his book.

When dad placed an arm around Rhodey though, the two men couldn't help but smile down
at her, Uncle's mood brightening with the promise of seeing Tony's kid 'have a little fun', no
doubt what dad had whispered to him.

Much like Pepper and Harley, Nat and Steve did not seem very excited about this event
either. Dare she say, both looked worried. Brooklyn wasn't sure if that was because they
assumed she'd loose this fight, if they doubted her skills...or if they just hated to see her
engage in combat.

When Brook locked eyes with Nat, the woman merely shook her head, her way of saying she
did not agree with this shit-show. Though Grandpa Steve would never refer to this even with
such colorful curse words, he too seemed a second away from moving over to dad's side to
try and talk him out of this for the tenth time since this morning.

Even so, Brooklyn knew both her sestra and the Captain would want this win to favor the
Avengers. All of them likely did, all aside from Aunt May, who clung to mom's side in worry.

May had thankfully kept quiet during breakfast about her and Damian's visits to her home
while expressing her insight in not wanting the two teens to fight. But even Peter's aunt must
know this was beyond family hatred, even if she didn't understand her and Damian's
partnership went past reluctant alliances.

The way she looked to Brook was with pity.

The last people against the railings were Vision and Wanda, both of which seemed to be
distracted with a phone between them. They were likely talking to Uncle Clint, who'd stayed
behind at the Avengers building with his wife and kids, even when the Hawkeye had not
shied from calling dad an idiot for stating a WWE fight after the mess with the Joker.

For a second, Brooklyn wished she could tell them how much she didn't want to do this,
come clean about just how much she cared for Damian...that he wasn't the enemy they
thought he was. But if this scenario had taught her anything, it was that both their fathers
would NEVER allow peace between their families.

Just as Brooklyn became distracted gazing at her family, Damian too was busy beholding his
side of the arena, where his family and the Justice League stood at the edge of the railing
behind him.

Damian wanted nothing more than to drop his swords on the floor, tell father that this was the
only fight he would not fight for him.

Though he hated to even think about it, Jason was probably the only person who likely had
some sort of hesitance to this battle, given that Brooklyn was his new friend and all.
Something he still wasn't sure how to feel about.

It was likely why the man with the stupid white streak in his hair looked less than pleased to
be here, arms crossed on his chest, glaring at those cheering around him.

It was almost pitiful that JASON TODD could be considered amongst the only allies he had
in this, save for Pennyworth and umi, both of whom flaked father's sides. Neither one looked
pleased by the arrangement, though they looked saddened rather than angry.

Umi gazed down at Damian with a hand on her stomach, something akin to pity in her brown
orbs. Damian reasoned Selina was nowhere dumb enough to think the battle was already lost,
knew she didn't care about the outcome by how much she'd told father to stop the fight all
morning.

Like Pennyworth, umi likely just didn't want to see Damian hurt. Both of them had no idea
the greatest pain of all would not be received from any wound inflicted to him, but by those
he'd have to inflict on his beloved. It was an emotion he did not dare to showcase, keeping his
stare calm and dangerous.

To his small surprise, Damian almost raised a brow when he noticed his siblings were not
cheering excitedly at the prospect of this fight. Stephanie and Dick should be screaming
encouraging words by now, but they remained silent by Barbara's side from where their sister
rested on a plush chair so her leg braces could rest.

Drake and Duke also remained impartial to the entertainment, even when both had taken to
watching similar kinds of matches of TV for fun and always enjoyed witnessing a good spar
back home.

Cassandra's silence was the only expected reaction, as was father's stoic confidence. Even so,
Cass did not seem to be happy about this, thought it could easily be discomfort by the large
crowd, she'd never liked those.

Damian suspected with great reason that deep down, every member of his family was
expecting a win from him regardless of their hatred of being in a SHIELD building. Not in
the way that Talia had expected perfection and punished failures, but because Damian was a
Wayne, Brook a Stark, and this was the way of things.

As an amazon who likely partook in such kinds of battles in her youth, Damian also predicted
Princess Diana to at least show some ease by the familiarity of it all. But like Kent Sr, both
were glaring father's way, the away they had this morning at breakfast when they tried to stop
this.
It was likely out of some righteous purpose or worry about Damian's health. Gratitude for
trying to stop this fight was not something Damian felt, not when the teen had to glare at
Superman himself during breakfast to keep his mouth shut about Brooklyn's visits to the
farm, or any other time he'd seen the teens together when father mentioned this would be a
good way to lessen Damian's instincts to kill the Stark on a daily basis.

Pathetically so, Curry (Aquaman) and Allen (Flash) were cheering just as loudly as the crowd
as if they indeed treated this as entertainment. Though definitely not invited here by father,
Jordan (the Green Lantern) beside them was just as enthusiastic, trying to get Martian
Manhunter and Kori to cheer with him, both of which just looked uncomfortable to be here
after their objections to wanting this fight to exists.

Those two had likely only objected out of preference for peace rather than violence.

Regardless of comfort or no, Damian knew one thing was expected of him. To win. If he let
any weakness or hesitation show, his relationship with Brooklyn could be in peril of being
discovered.

That was the harsh truth, the one that kept Damian's steps going forward to the center of the
arena.

Once in the middle, facing one another, both teens gazes shifted to a cluster of familiar faces
to Brook's right. On the railings there, their friends stood, looking disappointed, worried, and
scared.

Their team, the Dynasty, stood before that railing away from both sides of the current
conflict, as if they resented having to pick a side and chose both their friends instead. They
were perhaps the most worried of everyone in this arena, outright looking like the heavy
shouts behind them were like a chant for death.

Brook knew what they must be thinking, that they must fear this fight would once again
spark the anger and hatred from people they considered to be friends by now.

Well, Jon and Yelena knew the truth, stood there hand in hand, the only ones that knew a
couple was facing one another instead of just a Stark and a Wayne. They knew the glares
were fake. Knew the hesitance by which they brandished their weapons at the announcer's
call, Damian clutching his katanas after a few testing spins and twirls of their mobility, Brook
letting the bracelets on her wrists expand up to her hands, covering them in metal gloves that
gleamed silver in the light.

A part of Brook suddenly wished she had told her friends this was all just an act, that their
team's integrity was not at risk. She trusted them with the truth, knew it might've made this
easier for them had they known the truth...but her and Damian had only discussed telling
them a few times, and with the sudden arrival of a fight between them, spilling their secrets
had been the last thing on their mind.

Maybe after this...they deserved to know it all.

One look at Damian's eyes after he too tore his gaze from their friends, and Brooklyn knew
he felt the same shame at their false assumptions. But for now, their friends would have to
assume the worst, Ned would have to remain clinging to Peter and MJ in fear as Pete looked
close to swinging down to stop all this, only held back by the girl he fancied, one who put
logic before emotions and likely worked out even they couldn't put an end to this.

Tanya and Harry were not better off, but they were the ones in the group that seemed outright
angry. Like they couldn't believe they had to deal with Stark/Wayne hatred again, as if they
thought their friends were better than this.

Damian would never admit it, but that anger-filled glares did affect him, it too made him
want to share the truth of their situation. He wanted to clarify that hurting Brooklyn was the
furthest thing from his wishes, even if a part of his mind reminded him he shouldn't care what
Harry and Tanya thought.

But he did care, because they were his team.

To Brook's left, on the middle of the railing there, Fury stood with his closest agents, Agent
hill, Agent Coulson, Agent Claire, and Brook's old trainer (Agent Adonis). They watched
without a single shred of emotion visible on their faces, as if they were only here to assess
skill.

Perhaps this WAS some sort of SHIELD test after all, which didn't help to ease Brook's
emotions at all.

It was then that the crowds were partially silenced, that the lights illuminating the stage
shifted away from the few visible crowds in the stands, making both teens blind to their
families' and friends' expressions as an announcement echoed along the massive space.

Fighters ready?, a deep male voice asked.

Brook only allowed herself a second to take in Damian as they stood only a few paces from
one another.

She didn't know how to convey her worry that she could hurt him, or any reassurances that
injuries inflicted on her would not be taken personally, not given their circumstances. Even as
the two glared at one another, crouching slightly to get ready into a fighting stance, Brook
could tell Damian wanted to convey that as well, that despite their drive to make their parents
proud...this was not something they wanted to partake in.

It was not worth the cost in both their eyes.

Conscious of the tethers behind them, the emotions that bound them to duty of their families,
Brooklyn mockingly said to Damian, conscious of the ability of the arena to hear them, "Well
well...I've always wanted to fight you for real, its's my lucky day"

I never want to fight you, I'm sorry, is what she meant to say in a way only Damian would
understand.
In turn, he replied bitterly, "I won't hold back, Stark. You better not disappoint"

I can't hold back much. Be careful, is what his words meant.

Both teens didn't tare their gazes from one another, even as the ground beneath them shook,
as the edges of the arena began to retract, making their fighting space smaller, creating the
chance for dangerous falls if they got too close to the edge.

The stands went deadly silent.

This was the only thing Brooklyn had been able to work out in their favor in the little time
she'd had to prepare. Last night, before Brook left to tinker at the lab with dad, she and Lena
brainstormed for ways to stop this. Once they figured nothing could be done, they decided
the best they could do was minimize damage.

Though neither teen had ever trained in this arena, they both knew its state-of-the-art
technology well enough from agents complaining about training in the halls.

Brook figured that if there were other obstacles or things they had to fight, she and Damian
wouldn't have to face one another head on so much. It had been quite easy to convince
Director Fury to add such obstacles when Brook mentioned she was afraid this fight might be
too easy for her.

This way, holding back might not seem so intentional.

Seeming to understand what was going on, Damian smirked, especially as the surface of the
elevated stands around the teens opened up holes with firing canons. They only fired mild
electrical currents, but it was enough that the dodging of said blasts could help in this case.

Brooklyn smirked right back at him, a wicked and merciless sort of smile she only wanted to
show a handful of people, the Joker and Cobalus included.

The countdown began shortly after that.

The fight will commence in 3...

Brook positioned one foot in front of the other, readying the blasters on her boots, letting
their blue glow show on her heels.

2...

Damian placed both katanas before him, ready to attack.

1...

Both teens let out a few steadying breaths, trying to find that place in their minds that was all
battle and skill rather than emotions, taking comfort that no matter what, the regeneration
cradle was just around the corner to heal any bad injuries their skillsets could not prevent
them from inflicting.
Even then, it only felt like a small comfort.

Closing their eyes for a millisecond, the two opened them up to reveal nothing but that killing
calm which both hated.

Commence!

Brooklyn was the first to rush over to Damian, well aware his katanas were ready to slice
through her skin. Last minute, just before Damian could propel himself to attack, she
activated the boosters on her palms and heels, backflipping over his body.

The crowd erupted into screams. The fight had just begun in their eyes.

Before she could get a shot at his back, Brooklyn barely managed to see a white laser-like
streak rushing towards her, narrowly missing its mark against her chest when she quickly
used her hand boosters to propel herself back.

Damian turned just in time to dodge two with a smooth grace that had him back flipping
away from her.

The crowd only grew louder then, but without being able to see their faces, it was like ghosts
were their only audience. Brook didn't get much of a chance to look around, not when she
began weaving and bobbing towards Damian, as he began blocking shots with his own blades
to get to her.

It was back in the middle of the arena where the two teens met in a clash of metal against
energy blasts, kicks and punches, the only thing breaking them apart being the shots fired
from the sidelines.

From their minute or so encounter, Brooklyn wagered she'd earned a bruise on her right arm
from a lucky kick she received from Damian, knew the liquid she felt along her Achilles
tendon was nothing but blood from a superficial cut she'd barely managed to dodge in time
from becoming worse.

In turn, the swift punch on his lower abdomen Damian had not been able to block would
surely bruise as well. Though Brook had managed to flip him onto the ground with expert
ease, he'd managed to break away from being pinned down at the cost of one of his katanas
falling out of reach behind him.

Neither teen had a chance to take a breather, not as they dodged any shots honed on them,
either by swatting them away with a katana or blasting them with an accurately aimed blast.

The next two encounters the two teens had resulted in less injuries, it was like their minds
had finally registered the familiar opponent, recalled the thousands of hours of training and
honing of their skills, that it was easy to anticipate attacks.

It seemed like they could read ten steps ahead of the other, defending and attacking with an
ease that to the crowd, looked both deadly in its skill and accuracy, but also surpassingly
mesmerizing, like a deadly dance no one else in the arena was privy to or ever would be.
They moved like shadows of death, with skills far beyond the understanding or capability of
most agents present. To them, it was almost hard to believe teenagers could even hold such
skill, more so, that neither was able to land a blow.

It was like they shared a single mind, able to know just how much they needed to move to
avoid a hit, even out of their peripheral, which they sometimes managed to dodge by mere
centimeters confidently.

Almost like a secret language was being spoken, one even the Avengers and Justice League
did not comprehend or even knew the birthplace of. They were the most stumped of all as to
how such fighting could come about.

Brooklyn was busy dodging yet another cluster of distant attacks, easily weaving between
shots when she felt a sharp pain on her shoulder that made her stagger back. Though she did
not scream like the crowd, or so much as grunt in annoyance, the sight of a bat shaped blade
on her shoulder (the target being a part of the skin that would not cause too much damage or
pain, no doubt intended) made the Stark hiss as she pulled it out of her skin.

In seconds, she was already shooting up into the air, landing just in front of Damian. She
could've blasted him, but in what she hoped dad and the others would mistake as petty
revenge, she threw the batarang, aided with the speed of her descent.

Perhaps faster than a bullet, Damian could not dodge it in time as it embedded itself onto his
back (a place she'd calculated as well to prevent serious harm or dangerous blood-loss).

As soon as she'd landed, Brook had to twist away to avoid a few blasts, but that was enough
for Damian to not only remove the blade on his back, but also redirect an incoming blast with
his katana almost like he was playing a simple game baseball and he was the star batter.

The lightning-like blast was redirected her way, landing just in front of her on the floor,
sparks against metal creating a mild explosion of energy that almost sent her toppling off the
edge, which she only managed to come back from thanks to her boosters.

Brooklyn landed with a crouch at the edge of the arena, on the side Damian had originally
started off from. She knew his family was watching behind her, was well aware that Bruce
Wayne would be pleased by this sudden mistake on her part.

Thats why she quickly tapped her hand blasters together, letting a nanotech rope form from
her wrists, like one of Peter's webs. The length of the metallic rope was enough that once she
rushed towards the middle of the arena, she was able to use the distraction of a few incoming
blasts to grab a hold of Damian's ankles.

Leaning with her heels stretched out before her, Brook let the basters pull them both closer to
the edge. When she turned them off, she retracted the nanotech back onto her hands, dragging
Damian closer to her.

Despite him trying to cut the sturdy vibranium particles, his blades could do nothing until he
was close enough for her to kick.
With acrobatic ease Damian learned from Dick (something the older brother couldn't help but
smile proudly at despite his distaste and worry for his fight), he used the speed of his arrival
to block Brook's kick with his own leg, the impact reverberating along both their legs.

The blast Brook aimed for his shoulder ended up being blocked just in time by his katana, but
given the closeness of said clash, they were both sent flying away from one another with a
blinding light between them.

By some miracle, any of the blasts heading for them during their descent did not hit their
mark thanks to some subtle shifts of their body to avoid a most painful electrocution.

On the floor a few dozen steps away, both teens ended up too close to the edge for comfort.
Shaking off their unease, both teens had no choice but to charge at one another again, the
crowd cheering them on loudly enough that the two couldn't even hear the steps they took.

This time, instead of attacking from above, Brooklyn slid onto the ground as she neared, and
though she knew Damian would anticipate the attack and that it would cost her the
functionality of her hand blasters, she still went on with it.

Without hand blasters, she wouldn't need to keep creating excuses not to send him flying.
Plus it would give her the opening to steal his remaining batarangs.

As expected, his blade collided with the bottom edge of her covered wrists where important
machinery was found, but she'd managed to get rid of his long distance attacks as well by
quickly gathering his small blades and tossing them to the pit beyond.

Both landing on crouched positions facing one another, they assessed the damage.

With a shrug, Damian unclasped the array of leather belts along his knees which no longer
held anything useful. In turn, Brook deactivated the smoking blasters, throwing the broken
machinery (that had retracted back into bracelet form) back into the pit to join his batarangs.

Spending all that time around her battle suit had helped him find the weak spot, one not made
by vibranium. Good.

The place Damian had landed just so happened to be where his lost katana was, leaving him
with two weapons, aside from himself. Brook still had her own daggers to throw, strapped
along hidden openings in her skintight leggings. And her boot thrusters were still functional,
small diamond shaped arc reactor still gleaming on her chest.

To her surprise, Damian, in his couched position, pulled out two hidden guns from his back.
Not packed with bullets, but likely some form of energy like the blasts currently heading their
way, or that of her discarded hand blasters.

Even Brooklyn knew who those guns belonged to by now. Jason. He'd likely given his
brother those specific guns to avoid permanent damage. Even now, her ridiculous new friend
was looking out for her in his own way...
Though Damian's eyes held nothing but unwavering death as he clicked the rounds into
place, his gaze seemed to say, Block the shots. Use it.

Brooklyn had been avoiding even thinking of using her fire against him, even when she knew
dad would think it odd, that most of the Avengers would too.

Damian seemed to know that as well, because as he sheathed the katanas against his back and
pointed both guns her way, Brook knew even with her boots and trained ease to dodge
bullets, the Wayne was an expert aim.

He was helping her by firing those guns, just the way she'd helped him by throwing that
batarang on his back. Cruel things most would not consider a mercy outside of this situation.
Cruelty was the only mercy they could grant right now though, the only way from severely
hurting one another.

As soon as she saw his index finger move against the trigger, Brook quickly discarded her
vibranium bracelets with the secret sequence of taps to unlock them. A safety feature not only
to keep them from coming off accidentally, but to get them off quickly if need be. She'd made
that adjustment last night with Princess Shuri's aid, something she'd wanted to implement
since her capture by Ivan.

Brooklyn was willing to wager the princess and the Dora Milaje were around somewhere,
knew they had countermeasures in case the Stark ever lost hold of her power after last night.

It was why she let the bracelets fall on the ground.

As soon as rounds flew through the air, Brooklyn launched her hands upwards before her,
creating a small wall of fire that melted the incoming attacks...that sent the crowd wild.

Brook briefly wondered if the X-Men were somewhere the dark stands watching her as well,
regardless if they were out helping the world or not, the Stark still made sure to keep her
control in check as they'd taught her.

Thoughts of Damian barreled into her mind, instances in which they weren't fighting like
right now, but rather living their lives in comfortable secrecy. Keeping her anchor in mind
prohibited the wall of fire from expanding further than she'd intended. Thankfully.

At the sight of incoming blasts not just for her, but Damian, Brooklyn quickly gathered a ring
of fire around her and with a quick look Damian's way, her only way of warning him, she
expanded it out, leaving it only as high as her waist so as to destroy incoming blast, but so
Damian could jump over it.

He cleared it with ease, summersaulting over it.

It left the arena in silence as the fire descended down the edges.

Though both teens knew this fight had to end at some point, that helping one another was no
help in the long run, their attacks remained docile by their standards, even if they looked
deadly to everyone around them.
Neither wanted to win, but neither could afford to loose.

Which is why after another encounter between blasts, in which Brook embedded daggers
onto Damian's left arm (causing him to drop a katana), and Damian cut a gash on her right
arm (causing her to drop the last of her own blades), the two engaged in hand to hand combat
at last.

Though most punches and kicks were easily predicted and dodged, others left Damian with a
dislocated arm and Brooklyn grasping for air on the floor. No amount of pain managed to
keep them on the floor for long, especially with blast constantly trying to find their marks.

Yanking on her ponytail, Damian managed to flip her over his body in what was sure to be a
painful crash, that was until she managed to grab into the high collar of his skintight shirt,
bringing him down with her, for which both got struck by a rogue shot of electricity as soon
as they hit the ground.

Neither screamed in pain at the impact, not even as Brook registered she must've landed
wrong for her ankle to be in pain, the cut on her other leg a painful reminder walking would
become twice as hard from now on.

Though Damian was sure blood flowed from more than once place on his body, he stood up
with fluency, clutching the katana in his left hand rather harshly. His other arm, now
dislocated and bleeding would be useless, just as Brook's legs seemed close to being.

The arm had been a worthy price to pay, because it was either that, or his blade colliding with
her back. Damian knew all the scars there, had memorized them long ago, and even if it cost
him father's favor or his reputation, that is the one place Damian refused to harm today...and
forever.

That being said, he knew that last duck by Brook which cost her the walking ability of her
remaining good leg had been done so one of her punches did not hit him straight in the head,
which would've cost a concussion on his part.

The two stood there, back at the center of the stage which had brought them nothing but
regrets.

The Wayne was sure Brooklyn was likely not very aware her eyes were now glowing, that
her power was building up, getting ready to rise to the surface the way it did when she
summoned flames for Goliath, or when she used them to launch into the air.

Even then, Damian did not flinch, swore he never would, not at her.

He knew, just like Brook, that they were nearing their last stand, a point when it came to who
could deal with the most injuries, who could dodge the most hits. He needed to end this now,
and though he knew his beloved would not hate him if he won, victory for once seemed like a
bittersweet taste in his mouth.

Likewise, Brooklyn knew she had to stop this before there was a blow to Damian she could
not excuse as a missed shot at victory, before he rendered all her limbs useless. For that she
summoned more of the flames, getting ready to send them his way enough so that he'd have
no choice but to fall off the end (which she was sure had many heavy duty mats at the
bottom).

Damian, with Brook's family and Avengers somewhere behind him, grasped his katana
before him, ready to launch into an attack. Brooklyn, with the Waynes and Justice League in
the shadows behind her, gathered her power, building it up until she could feel bright flames
surrounding her arms, glowing as bright as the arc reactor on her chest.

It was with trepidation and regret that they both got ready for this final fight...taking a step
towards one another, the first of many...until she hard it.

Behind Damian, a familiar voice screaming her name gleefully.

Well not her name, but the nickname only one person had for her. Brooky.

As if in answer, the screams doused her flames, and the energy blasts heading their way
stopped, small cannons disappearing.

Damian, who's still been rushing towards Brook, unable to hear the scream past the pounding
in his heart, suddenly stopped right in front of her when he saw her flames disappear, gaze
not on him, but behind him.

He barely managed to skid to a stop two steps from Brooklyn, his blade inches from her
stomach.

Crowd cheers turned to cautionary screams, and when Damian finally turned, he realized
why.

Cassie, clad in a warm ensemble with pink gloves and a matching winter hat with fluffy ears,
was rushing toward them, coming out of the cave-like entrance Brooklyn had emerged from.

Behind the young girl, many paces behind, her frantic mother could be seen trying to catch
up.

Immediately, Daman dropped his katana just as Brook doused all remainders of her power. It
was done barely in time for Cassie to launch herself towards them, tacking both tired and
injured teens to the floor with ease.

Both teens had the good sense to not give a shit about their own crash against the floor, but
made sure to grab onto Cassie to make sure she did not get hurt.

Landing between them, the little girl smiled at them, seemingly unaware they'd been in the
midst of a battle, that she could've gotten hurt. Cassie just chuckled, pushing herself up with a
hand on both their chests as she said, "Mom! Dad! See, I knew you weren't dead like the TV
said! I knew it!"

Despite the distant outcries of the little girl's name by her mother, Cassie held her gaze on
them, saying to Brook, "Does that mean you do get to come play with me this month?
Please!"
It took Brook a few seconds to register what was happening, that by some miracle (named
Cassie Lang), the fight was over. Though she was tempted to succumb to her fear that the
child could've gotten hurt, happiness won in the end, and Brooklyn brought Lang's daughter
into a gentle hug.

Registering her earlier words and that the echo of the space would've carried them to the
stands, Brook tried to keep her face impassive as she told Cassie, "I've told you not to call
others mom or dad, especially strangers like this Wayne"

Cassie seemed confused for a second, looking to Damian, who subtly have her a play along
and you'll get candy look.

Being the smart and candy-driven child that she was, Cassie said, "Fine! It's just that I saw
you playing with him, Brooky. Doest that mean you're married?"

Brook and Damian made a show of disgustingly backing away from one another, with Cassie
carried into Brook's arms despite her injuries. No one in the crowd seemed to take the words
seriously now, not beyond a disbelieving laugh from a child saying a bunch of nonsense.

Thankfully, Maggie reached them, cradling her daughter close and yelling at her for running
off. The woman also offered apologies to the two teens, making no sign of recognizing
Damian as she mentioned they were going to wait for the fight to be over, but Cassie was
excited to see Brook was alive and well.

Soon after, both families and hero groups descended to the arena, a silent sign that with a kid
present, the fight was indeed over. Over with no victor. Brooklyn almost dared to sigh in
relief.

The next few minutes were a whirlwind. Brook and Damian had been placed on gurneys
against their will, taken away through their respective entrances towards the healing wards
(sent to different rooms by dad's request), families in tow. Crowds finally dispersing back to
their posts.

Brook barely caught a glimpse of Damian before he disappeared. Just one glance in which
she caught sight of his bleeding injuries, his katana in the middle of the arena's floor, scorch
marks painting the gray floor black in some spots. The last remainders of their fight.

She could tell he was glad things ended as they did too. Made the both relax against their
gurneys.

Who knew what would've happened if Cassie hadn't showed...

***

Brooklyn POV-

In all her time at the compound, Brook found that it was very hard to find a place without any
prying eyes or cameras aside from the Avenger's wing. But seeing as who her company this
afternoon would be, that place was definitely out for what she had planned.
Luckily, Nat had once taken Brook to a place that was always free of people, cameras, and
was secluded enough that no one would come to know a Stark and Wayne had snuck away
together.

That place was located next to the lake behind the main Avengers building, equipped with a
little dock station hidden by the trees from any prying eyes.

On that afternoon after her release from the med wing, Brooklyn had managed to sneak away
with a whispered location to Lena, and a request to bring everyone with her.

Since her parents and the Avengers had been called to a meeting about some lead on Cobalus
(something she'd definitely investigate later), which the Waynes and Justice League had been
reluctantly admitted to, Brook was easily able to sneak into Damian's temporary lodging were
he'd been left to 'heal' after his own release from the med wing.

They'd had to leave a very excited Titus and Goliath behind or risk exposure, something
they'd have to make up for, especially since Alfred the Cat seemed to take the sneaking off
without him personally as well.

Bribing FRIDAY to keep her mouth shut about Brook's arrival to the cabin was easy, the
Stark kids had done so many times already when they snuck into the kitchen at night for
midnight snacks. FRIDAY was loyal to dad, but was just as loyal to the three Stark children,
perhaps even more so to them.

From then on it was just a matter of using the empty walkways and the forest cover to get
away from the main buildings. They did so in silence, with the careful grace of spies...hand in
hand.

Once seated at the docks, looking out at the large expanse of the calm lake before them,
Brooklyn knew they didn't have too much time until the others arrived, that every minute
they were all away from sight would raise questions.

But she'd needed to see him alone after this morning, not just to make sure he was doing
alright physically (which he was), but also because there were things she wanted to discuss
that they'd yet to be able to, even if all she wanted to do is stay here by his side, his arm
around hers...

The last thing she wanted to do was talk about what the world was referring to as 'The Joker's
Day' or to remember any of the destruction that came with it, but what they could talk about,
which was perhaps just as important, was the fact that their secret had been in peril today but
had also been a thorn at their side.

There would come a time where they could talk in peace about the events of today, about the
fact that they'd nearly lost one another before that. But their team was likely unsettled after
the fight, and seeing as they were likely all stuck here for a few more days...it was only right
they cleared a few things up.

"We don't have to tell them anything if you're not ready" Brooklyn said, "Jon and Yelena
found out by accident, but telling our friends the truth is another matter entirely. I understand
if you think telling more people, especially when we're all stuck here for now could be
dange-"

Damian brought her closer to him so that her head rested on his chest.

Looking out into the calm waters before them, the sun sinking in the sky beyond, Damian
said, "After all we've been through together, the secrets and work we all do as a
team...perhaps it wouldn't be so foolish to let them know. Jon and Yelena have proven to be
useful with their knowledge of our secret after all"

Brook tried not to gawk, she really did, but her mouth feel open on its own.

Clutching the fabric of his oversized military sweatpants and hoodie (courtesy of Uncle
Rhodey), Brooklyn exclaimed, "Are you sure? I mean, I'm glad you trust them and are wiling
to open up to them, but you don't have to do this just because Tanya and Harry might want to
kill us for fighting. We can always say something else to get them to calm down"

Damian shook his head.

"They're our friends" Damian said, enunciating the last word as if he were testing it for the
first time, "Its only right they know, not just for our gain I suppose. They are no dangers to
us"

Beaming with pride, Brook tried to hide her smirk with a kiss to his cheek, the first bit of
intimacy they'd been able to share in some time, the only she dared to do given where they
were.

As they waited for the others to arrive, the two teens decided to test their healed injuries by
throwing rocks onto the lake, attempting to make them skip atop the water, learning from one
another's successes and mistakes as well as using common logic of the workings of gravity.

It was a comforting ease, especially after everything that had happened today.

Though Brook wasn't sure how any of her friends would react, if any might be against
Brooklyn and Damian taking such a risk or if some might advice them being together was
folly, she didn't think parting ways with Dami was possible at this point.

In some odd way, today had strengthened their bond in a way she'd never foreseen before.
Because even with their families between them, trying to rip them apart without even
knowing it, Brook and Damian had somehow still fought for one another, cared and protected
each other.

She'd realized their something more wasn't necessarily a choice between being together or
their family. They could pick both, and if they had the guts to keep fighting...then there was
no reason for their emotions to be set aside.

There was hope for them, if hope was even the right word. It was more like they could pave
chance for their something more to survive. And they would.
In the middle of their rock-throwing activity, when both her and Dami were in the middle of
figuring out the best shape of rock, throwing all that did not meet inspection lazily at one
another for laughs...thats when they became aware the rest of the team had shown up.

From the tree line behind the large wooden pergola on the dock, their friends emerged
cautiously, save for Harry who was all but sprinting toward them...or rather, Damian.

"You son of a bat-shapped bitch!" Harry screamed, looking livid for once rather than his
everyday natural and relaxed grace. Pointing a menacing finger at the ex-assassin, he yelled,
"I should've known it would be so easy to get back in the flow of things! You never cared to
have friends anyways! But how about the fact that you and Brook have been fighting side by
side for a long time? Does that mean nothing?"

Aaaand this is why Brook had chosen this place, far from the compound...far from any stray
ears.

Jon tried to hold Harry back, sweetly trying to come up with an excuse to stop his friend from
charging at Damian. Then Tanya stepped forward, and surprisingly, her screams were not
directed at Damian...but at her.

"Seriously Brooklyn! I thought we'd both agreed you didn't hate Damian anymore? I thought
you'd be smart enough to see past this family bullshit. Don't you realized the two of you
fighting, especially if it continues from now on, will affect the team!? Haven't you realized
Damian isn't even that bad of a guy? You two cared for a baby together damn it!"

Harry, trying to shake off a kryptonian's grip with every step closer to them, added hastily,
"Even now, you two are throwing rocks at one another? Wasn't the fight enough?"

Behind them, Peter, MJ, and Ned huddled close together. They didn't seem like they wanted
to yell or complain. They just looked...sad. Disappointed perhaps. Yelena walked by their
side, and though her sister was calm thanks to her knowledge of the truth, Brook could tell
seeing the team so divided affected her.

Because these teens were their family, and they'd been lying to them for so long, letting them
think the worst.

That stopped now.

After one final glance at Damian, giving him a chance to back out, he merely nodded in
agreement with no sign of regret. It was just as Harry and Tanya had reached them, for once
seemingly in the same page, ready to yell at them some more, that Damian spoke up.

Brook thought she'd be the one that would have to explain, so the sight of Dami standing by
her side, confidently staring down their two friends...it left her speechless.

"The fight was an inevitability" Damian said, raising a hand to silence Harry before he could
interrupt, but the action was not full of malice for once. Waiting until the others reached
them, Damian looked to the half-circle of friends standing before them, not in an assessing
sort of way.
"We had to engage in the fight to prevent suspicions from arising. My...past self would've
jumped at the chance to fight a Stark, to prove myself. And Brook would've been the same"

MJ went wide eyed at the words.

"You WERE pulling your punches" she said mesmerized, "I thought I was seeing things, that
I was trying to hope for the best"

Brooklyn nodded, smiling at Jon and Yelena, who finally seemed to realize just why this
secret meeting was called.

The pride and encouragement in their eyes helped Brook find her voice at last.

After a steading breath, Brook explained, "There is something we've been meaning to say for
some time, something we needed to understand ourselves first before even thinking of
trusting anyone with the knowledge. But we trust you, all of you"

At their confusion, Damian added, "Harrison is an idiot. Brook and I don't hate one another,
we've ventured past the confines of friendship into something far more risky. Jon and Yelena
only know by accident, have kept quiet by our command"

All eyes turned to a sheepish Jon and a smiling Lena. With a wicked grin, her sister said,
"You guys might want to sit down for this. Even I never saw it coming"

"Please don't tell me you guys are large scale nemesis!" Peter exhaled, clearly the only one
who misunderstood their words.

It was Damian that said, "Relax, Parker. Brook and I are...we are something more than
friends. We are partners"

Sure enough, everyone sat down on the warm wooden docks, slowly as if their brains were
still processing the words. Harry never tore his eyes from them though, looked between the
two as if he were seeing something impossible.

Brook expected yelling, disapproval, perhaps even some anger at not being told earlier. Their
silence was like an anvil hanging above her head, one that almost made her reach for
Damian's hand in comfort. But telling their friends this secret, and him being comfortable to
show physical affection in front of others, were two different things.

It HAD taken a while for him to even hold her close in the presence of Jon and Yelena after
all.

What she did not expect out of this revelation were Harry's next stunned words.

"Hold up...I'm third wheeling for the school dance?" Harry said breathlessly, almost in
childish disbelief. His words caught everyone off guard, even Damian. They were enough to
draw out smiles from MJ and Ned...then Tanya and Jon.

"That's what you're focusing on?" Tanya teased by Harry's side, jabbing him in the stomach.
"Wait..." Peter said, blinking rapidly, standing from his slouched position as if something had
just hit him, "Does that mean all those times I saw Damian at your apartment, you two were
just hanging out? Willingly? Dating behind our backs?"

Both Brook and Damian nodded.

At that Ned stood as well, moved to Pete's side and whispered something in his ear even
Brook could not hear, but it made their spider friend go pale, looking at Damian as if he
expected the Wayne to attack.

Still on the floor, Tanya was now laying on the floor, splayed exhaustedly beside MJ with
eyes wide and mouths still hanging open.

"Ok..." Tanya said, "So the hottest teenagers of our time are actually dating in secret, defying
their parents with some star-crossed, ex-assassin, romance I can't even begin to imagine
because what the hell does Damian being a boyfriend even look like...I...how long has this
been going on exactly?"

Brook tried not to blush at the words, or smile at the secret knowledge that Damian was
actually quite the romantic (in his own way) when he wanted to be. He might actually try to
kill her if she revealed that little fact, so she kept it quiet. Besides, she selfishly liked being
the only one to see that side of him anyways.

"Officially? When we came back from break" Brook admitted, "But our feelings grew long
before that"

Tanya just nodded, as if she still couldn't quite believe it.

"Thanks for letting us know" MJ said as she sat up, seemingly speaking for everyone as she
stated, "We'll keep the secret safe"

Just like that? It couldn't be that simple could it?

No one argued or complained in the seconds that followed.

"How can you just accept it so quickly?" Damian asked, catching her drift.

MJ, that beautiful soul, simply explained, "We're all friends, that's why. Is this unexpected?
Yes. But the last think we wanted you guys to do is live your lives hating one another, I think
we're all glad you get along, even if it's more than we expected. And given your
backgrounds...we're just happy you two are thinking of yourselves and your happiness. The
world is shit, but you two seem to be good for one another"

Now standing beside Michelle, Peter nodded, wide smile plastered on his face as he gazed at
the two teens before him with nothing but joy, looking relaxed as if a confusing piece of a
puzzle had finally fallen into place.

Harry finally stood shortly after, wedging himself between Brook and Damian, stretching a
lazy arm behind their shoulders as he said with a wicked grin, "We're already keeping mad
secrets for you guys, what's one more? Besides, isn't it hilarious people think Brook and I
will end up together!? We get to laugh about that together behind everyone's backs now!"

That brought out a chuckle from Brooklyn, leave it to Harry to be so casual about this, for all
their friends to accept the truth so honestly and welcomingly.

Brook didn't voice it, but the sight of everyone smiling at them, willing to keep this a secret
for their sake, it meant more to her than anything...made her realize these friendships went
further than just a simple surface level of alliance.

It proved all of Ivan's teachings wrong too.

Moving to stand by her side, Yelena rested her head on Brook's shoulder, brushing back her
auburn locks. The smile Lena shot Jon, who had moved to Damian's other side to clap him on
the back as if in congratulations...Brooklyn smiled at the sight, grinned at the fact that two
girls from the Red Room managed to find something amazing not just in people to entrust
their hearts to, but friends who had their back.

"Your parents are going to kill you" MJ teased brushing off the dirt from her purple pjs set as
she moved to Yelena's side, the three girls clad in warm sleepwear none of them seemed to
care about.

Peter and Ned also dusted themselves off before moving to send encouraging smiles at
Damian, letting their friend know they were happy for him. Surprisingly, Dami didn't scowl
at their kindness, but instead nodded back...in thanks?

It was Damian that replied to MJ, "Hence the need for secrecy"

"Are you ok with that?" Ned asked, "not just taking the risk, but having to pretend to be
single all the time? You two and Harry are the most eligible bachelors of our age after all"

Past Harry's lanky body, the two teens locked eyes. In them swam a mutual understanding
ironically strengthened by this morning's events.

"It's worth the risk, and so much more" Brooklyn said breathlessly.

As the sun continued to sink in the sky, painting the heavens before them a beautiful orange
hue with fluffy stray clouds, the Avengers Dynasty sat at the dock's edge, close enough to one
another that there was no space between them.

Finally, Brooklyn was able to sit beside Damian without fearing rising suspicions, and the
Wayne, ever the guy full of surprises, pulled her close so she could lean against his shoulder
despite the company around them.

Beside her, Yelena was in a similar relaxed position with Jon, looking at her sister happily.

Harry and Tanya were busy fighting about the shapes of clouds and what they might
resemble, Ned occasionally brining up some movie reference to explain a cloud's depiction,
but beside them, Peter and MJ sat in silence, shyly kicking their legs back and forth in sync.
 As the sounds of gentle wanter moving with the faint winds, distant ducks swimming in the
distance, and the trees behind them providing a gentle song of swaying leaves, Brooklyn
couldn't help but be glad for this peace.

After everything that happened, all that would happen once they got out of here, it was nice
to just sit and relax, especially with such great company, who would no doubt tease her and
Damian senselessly in the days to come. A small price to pay.

Who knew that the Joker's evil doings would result in three couples revealing their secrets?
First Jon and Yelena, then Nat and Steve, and in a much smaller scale of revelation...Brook
and Damian. It was good to think affection could still bloom and overcome after such hard
times, that at least for now, peace remained.

Seated as one, staring at the glowing sunset, everyone knew that with this new revelation, a
new beginning would come with it. Because yes, this secret changed everything they once
thought, but it also changed nothing at all.

They are all still a team, a family, and now they were stronger and closer than ever. A group
of friends that would keep all these and many more secrets for one another. Whatever it takes.

Chapter End Notes

Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed the update and are looking forward to the next
chapter! Rest assured that the next one will be filled with lost of fun at the Avengers
Compound before the next arc begins.

Regardless, this was one of my favorite chapters to write, I've been dying to share the
revelation of the big secret with the rest of the Avengers Dynasty, something I felt
needed to be done after this fight thats been in my head for a long time. Figured I've
teased it long enough (for almost a book and a half).

That being said, I have a few announcements.

The first of which is something I feel needs to be addressed. The world is a scary place
sometimes. The situation in Ukraine is devastating, for lack of a better word. I write
about battles and wars, but the reality of such events is still a cruelty I never wished to
witness in a world I dream can have peace and unity. I hope the situation gets better
somehow for the sake of humanity as a whole.

I bring this up not just because its such a big thing in the world right now, but because I
got a few messages from some people asking if I'd be changing Brooklyn's birthplace
and nationality given Russia's involvement.

I must say, this question took me by surprise at first, but I can see why some one might
ask it.
Though my support goest to the people of Ukraine, I feel like a fictional character
written before this conflict should remain as is for more than one reason. First of which,
it has nothing to do with the happenings of the real word, and secondly, not all of Russia
is 'bad'.

The actions of a leader should not reflect on its people, some of which disagree with this
conflict but can do nothing to convince their leader to stop. Being Russian either in real
life or in a simple fanfic should not reflect badly on a person. For instance, in this fanfic,
Russia isn't evil as a whole simply because the Red Room exists.

Actions speak louder than blood, both of which should be considered separately in my
humble opinion.

Thus, I hope you understand why I will keep Brooklyn Stark as is, hope you understand
it has no hidden political message, or ill will of any kind.

Another announcement is that I've been thinking of looking for a volunteer to become a
'beta reader' of sorts for the Avengers Dynasty. Someone to proof read my past and
upcoming chapters and perhaps give writing insight I'm unfamiliar with (seeing as I'm
just a novice, a uni student definitely not majoring in English or literature). I'm afraid
that with the time restraints I have nowadays thanks to my masters program, I can't find
time to go back and fix any grammatical errors I might've missed the first time around.

In order to make this story more polished and enjoyable, that is something I've been
meaning to get fixed!

I know a few of you have already shown interest in such a position being available, so if
anyone is interested, you can message me privately here or on Tumblr (portalsofatheria).
I'd give you credit for your work on both books, and I suppose an added bonus of the
position would be that you'd get to read chapters before release!

I've also been asked a lot about fan art recently, which I absolutely love and will 100%
showcase on this fanfic if you'd like, just let me know on Tumblr if you'd like me to
show it and how you want me to give you credit! Any edits or photoshopped
submissions shared with me will also be made available for fans to see if you wish! I
love to see all your work and love for this fanfic, which has become so dear in my heart!
You guys are all so talented!

That being said, thank you all for your messages, please don't hesitate to ask me about
anything else or mention something I might've missed to address! I get a lot of
messages, so its hard to keep up with remembering everything, for that I'm sorry!

Anyways, hope you enjoy the next chapter that should be coming out soon. I'll even give
you guys a hint about its content. It may or may not have something to do with a very
interesting meal between two opposing groups! As always I love to read your comments
in each chapter, please continue to do so! You guys never fail to make me smile!
 The Impossible, Possible
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Harry Osborn POV-

When Harry had told his old man that he'd be spending some time at the Avengers
Compound, he'd like to think his father was so quick to agree because he thought it would be
the safest place for his son after what happened with the Joker.

The funny thing was, Harry wasn't sure a secluded place shared by the Waynes and Starks
was exactly 'safe'. Even if most at the compound were not privy to the secret identity of the
Waynes, if they assumed the enemy family was here for their own safety. The Joker was
primarily from Gotham, it would only make sense the royalty of that city would be amongst
those in most danger.

It was a silly lie for those who knew the truth like Harry, but it had worked wonders.

If he didn't know so much now, having been accepted into the cluster of individuals that
knew more than they should, he too would've thought the Waynes bought themselves time at
the safest fortress after the recent attacks. He would've thought the Avengers allowed it
because the Waynes, with their economical hold on Gotham, were important for the
rebuilding efforts to come.

But Harry knew they were all here on thin ice, a temporary call for peace that could crumble
at the smallest wrong move or word. It was still the safest place in the world right now, but
one that might see battle of its own kind if someone didn't figure out a way to ensure peace.

Despite the severity of the possibility, Harry's mind had been somewhere else.

Though he wasn't often surprised by much, last night, Harry had remained staring at the
ceiling of his guest room, questioning the universe's entire existence. Because with just one
secret shared between friends, the impossible suddenly seemed possible.

Seriously, how the hell was he supposed to process the fact that Brooklyn Stark and Damian
Wayne were playing all their cards, breaking every rule, just for the fact that they actually
cared about one another?

Harry had spent a good chunk of his childhood trying to befriend Damian, to welcome him
into the hell that was social events of the rich as best he could. Every time he'd met with the
youngest Wayne, Damian had either snapped or insulted him. Eventually, being the smart lad
that he is, Harry gave up his quest for friendship. Especially when he saw Damian flip a
grown man into a table during one of those events, when said unfortunate man, tried to boss
Alfred Pennyworth around.
Now Harry knew Damian held a soft spot for the old man, because for the most part of this
new day, he'd gone to check on their butler at least five times (even though the elderly was
not injured). Just in need of rest, or so Jon had mentioned.

But Damian caring about Alfred, however shocking that might be, paled in comparison to the
reveal that had kept him up at night.

For a long time, in his biased eyes, Damian was just a kid his dad had likely sent away due to
bad character. One who hated people, cursed the sounds of joy and happiness as a cartoon
villain might. A kid who was Harry's age but always seemed a hundred years wiser, as if he
were stuck in the skin of a young boy but was really a beast in disguise.

In all those years, Damian never deigned to speak to anyone at such conventions or obligated
appearances. He kept to himself and his family, looking bored and out of place. As if there
were bigger things for him outside these elegant masks they both had the burden of wearing.

His younger self was sure the bitterness was a factor of a shitty upbringing, that maybe
Gotham's polluted air had somehow turned his heart cold and unfeeling. Maybe the absence
of a mother in the picture had turned him rotten.

Then Harry found out Damian's rude exits at events were not just because he was bored, but
because he went out into the world risking his life to save others. He learned Damian's
immaculately poised behaviors were part of a harsher upbringing than he'd imagined, one
spent surrounded by killers who expected nothing less than perfection from him. A mother
with a reputation even Yelena and Brooklyn feared.

Damian's avoidance of people was due to deeply ingrained distrust, his rudeness out of the
molded belief he was superior that everyone, taught to him by his mother.

Jon's past words in defense of his best friend didn't make sense until that night spent
reflecting, working his brain past its limits as if he were trying to solve the DaVinci
Code...worse actually, Harry had tried to solve the enigma that was Damian Wayne.

Because how could someone like that be able to care for another?

It seemed a bit ambitious to try and despiser such an enigma in one night, it certainly kept
him up until the sun rose. The only way he'd been able to make sense of it had been by
thinking long and hard about who Damian was at his core.

He'd been raised to be perfect at everything he did, something that likely still transferred onto
Bruce Wayne's tutelage when he became Robin. Maybe that kind of strong dedication
towards something was the key to understanding Damian in the first place.

In the concept of girls, one might be safe to assume Damian would apply similar mentalities.
Maybe he ignored all girls and focused all his efforts on one. Like he was an all-or-nothing
sort of guy. Even without Damian likely being aware of it, he possessed the raw, all-
encompassing kind of emotion girls always yearned for and swooned at.

He'd watched enough rom-coms to know that little fact.

Maybe Damian Wayne WAS capable of caring, it just took the right person for him to unveil
that part of himself. It just so happened he'd stumbled upon that right person against all odds,
and it just so happened that such a girl was his born enemy.

Harry would never admit it out loud even if someone held a gun to his temple, but it was
almost admirable that Damian was like that. That he cared for Brooklyn so strongly that he
was willing to keep secrets and lie to the only people Harry had seen him 'trust' in the past.
His family.

Harry had no doubt Damian took that betrayal to his kin very seriously, but still looked past it
because...because of Brooklyn.

Now, Brook, Harry could claim to understand her a little better.

Brooklyn had been raised by similar assholes with equally dark expectations, but she'd
broken free of that willingly. There was compassion in her heart, born even in one of the
darkest places in the world.

Could she have seen something in Damian everyone else mistook as menacing
characteristics? Had that darkness become so familiar that when she looked at Damian, she
couldn't see any of it there and instantly knew there was more to him?

There was no denying that with their similar childhoods, they may have bonded over the sick
and twisted things they'd learned to leave behind, that much was obvious. But sharing
experiences and caring for one another were two different things.

Why risk angering their families over just simple bonding?

No that couldn't be all.

Jon and Lena didn't have much in common, and they still made things work.

Perhaps those two were much more complex than Harry had ever considered, and maybe
those complexities were only visible to one another. The two teens with hard-to-earn trust
had bestowed those rare privileges to one another, maybe they were only their truest selves in
the company of the other.

He could see it now though, the way the two always seemed as if they were one mind, able to
speak without words. The trust they had with one another ,not just on the field, must be
nearly impossible for their kind. It could be seen in their synced fighting that MJ always
pointed out, on the way they'd been able to care for that ridiculous robot baby with the ease to
earn the top grade, or the way they worked off each other's ideas when planning missions.

Maybe he'd been thinking about his two friends the wrong way this entire time, swayed by
the reality that was their families' hatred for one another.

Harry had once thought Brook and Damian could not be more different because of it, just the
thought of that hatred alone MADE them seem like two different continents.

Brooklyn, the bright star in the sky, daughter of a hero. A Stark.

Damian, darkness incarnate, son of a vigilante. A Wayne.

How wrong he'd been. They were not different in every sense, but two sides of the same coin.
If Brooklyn was a star, Damian's darkness was the night sky that existed alongside that light.

It almost terrified him, his two friends with all their strength, power, future influence, and
complete devotion to what they believed when being united as partners.

The whole world should be afraid too, to behold such mightiness with the awe it deserved.

Harry had laughed out loud in the dark, laughed at the poor souls of the Joker and his allies,
the Red Room and the League of Assassins. Hell, he even laughed at Mr. Stark and Mr.
Wayne. Dared to because Brooklyn and Damian WERE a team, and Harry felt bad for the
fates of those that ever tried to separate them.

He almost began praying for Jon's life, now understanding that his friend had kissed
Damian's girlfriend. He felt bad for Peter, who'd had feelings for Brook openly.

Damian was still Robin, a trained assassin, and something told Harry that the Wayne
probably didn't like to share. That he didn't forget.

In a way, all this confusion and scrambled thoughts in his mind were amusing. It's like he was
beholding a forbidden romance from the people he least expected it from, that the world least
expected it from.

What astounded him more was that Harry would do whatever he could to make sure their
relationship was not discovered, that they could work out and live out that surprising miracle
undisturbed. Both of his friends deserved it, even if Damian could still be a dick sometimes,
Harry knew the teen couldn't be all negativity and darkness if he went out to save humanity
all the time.

Harry was conscious of the fact that the others would also take this secret to their graves if
need be, that his friends MJ and Tanya had likely worked this out much sooner than he, and
knew it was a worthy cause.

That being said, he was curious about what Damian 'the apparent boyfriend material' was like
in that role. Did he even know how to kiss? He'd likely done it before, girls always threw
themselves at him and his supposed good looks.

The only guy Harry would ever call good-looking aside from himself, would be David
Beckham.

He wondered if Damian's abilities to do everything with ease were implemented in such

kinds of intimate acts. More than that, he wondered if Brook and Damian were happy
together, if their talks went beyond the similarities of their past but to other personal matters.

The more and more he wondered, the more Harry realized that their relationship must be
nothing like a usual high school hook-up, something for the sake of dating someone, or for a
good make-out session. It couldn't be something for bragging rights or just because hormones
were taking over. They weren't normal teens after all.

The way Damian and Brook cared for one another was unique, had a grown-up sort of feel to
it, something forbidden yet strong. What people always said they spent their lives looking
for.

In a way, Harry was looking for that too. He'd kept his playboy appearance at first to piss off
his dad, but it had become this silent quest of sorts to search for something better. Harry
realized he wanted that too, a special relationship, something with a love that consumed him,
with a dash of adventure, and trust. A deep connection that had the potential to be
everlasting.

Something epic that took his breath away.

After all, wasn't that what everyone wanted?

If Harry had that one day...well now he understood why Brook and Damian were willing to
defy Iron Man and Batman with little hesitation. He would've too, especially because that's
what Harry's mom had always wanted for him.

Mom had loved dad with all her heart, and the two had been so in love, it was almost sweet
enough to give someone diabetes if one looked at the Osborn pair for too long in Harry's
youth. He remembered mom saying that she wanted Harry to find that kind of love,
something not just to die for, but to dare live for.

Maybe one day he'd find such a thing, be like Brook and Damian or Jon and Lena. He'd been
in enough relationships to spot the real thing, to understand all the ones HE'D had were not
that.

In the meantime though, he supposed he could just live watching their friends have such
rarities.

And boy was it amusing to watch.

That morning, everyone had been called to the large dining room on the Avengers floor, and
much to everyone's shock, Ms Potts had invited the Waynes as well...

Harry had almost burst out laughing when Mr. Stark and Mr. Wayne looked ready to leave
the room were it not for their significant others, who wanted to share a calm meal without a
testosterone contest ruining a perfectly good morning.

Thus the large marble table was filled to the brim with two enemy families, and enough
heroes to make Harry want to squeal as his younger self might've.

Amusingly, the right side of the table had been claimed by the Starks, with Tony at the head
of the table, wife and son by his side, followed by the nervous Avengers (like THE Captain
America, Falcon, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Scarlet Witch, Vision, even the War Machine).
They were amongst the best humanity had to show for itself, even if half were still
considered criminals.

Harry still refused to blink in cased he missed a second of their greatness.

Since Pete had been coerced by Mr. Stark to sit nearby, Harry, Ned, MJ, and Tanya had
joined, now seated next to some of the greatest heroes of their time. Though Peter was likely
used to it, Ned and Harry were trying their hardest not to freak, especially when Captain
America handed him a plate of freshly made pancakes, made by his very own patriotic hands.
What a dream!

They tasted like freedom! Butter, syrup, and glorious freedom.

At the end of what Harry considered the 'Stark side' of the table, were Brook and Yelena,
each seated on opposite sides. Beside them were Jon and Damian, with Jon taking the spot
next to his girlfriend of course (which wasn't a surprise to anyone now that their relationship
was public).

That was probably why no one questioned Brook and Damian being seated beside one
another, likely assumed both teens were holding the barrier steady between their families.
Ready to fight one another if the situation called for it.

Fools.

From then the table turned to what Harry referred to as the 'Wayne side' of the table, with Mr.
Wayne at the head of it, the Justice League and his family around him.

Was it odd to see the centuries old Amazon dressed in human finery? Yes.

Was it both cool and amusing to see two aliens from space struggling to fit in chairs that
looked tiny in comparison to their greatness? Of course. Especially since those two were
Superman and Martian Manhunter.

Aquaman, the fucking king of the seas, had placed his golden trident on a nearby table like it
was a simple everyday artifact, which looked even more amusing beside Captain America's
vibranium shield and Black Widow's guns. A sight he'd never forget.

Green Lantern was just a normal human underneath his suit, one that was surprisingly funny,
in a big brother sort of way. Wanda Maximoff levitating food his way with red magic was
pretty cool too, as was actually seeing the Flash as more than just a blur for once.

Harry was in a room full of legends, of which he had action figures of in his room. Asking
them for autographs seemed childish, but oh how he wanted to. Yesterday he'd been too mad
at Brook and Damian to even register their wonderful company.

It hit him even harder that he was amongst them in another way that mattered. Brook and
Damian were the future of both legacies of heroes, as were Pete, Jon, and Lena. But he, Ned,
MJ, and Tanya were involved now, part of the Dynasty of heroes of the future.
It would've made him even more excited had he not known the burden of said title by now,
especially after he almost lost a few of his friends to the Joker days prior.

Yet he couldn't help but wonder, if in the future, someone would have acton figures of his
friends, or even himself, the way Harry had some of people like Nightwing or Iron Man.

God, this was the best weekend ever!

For the first half hour, conversation had kept to their respective sides as if there truly was a
barrier between them. All had been peaceful, perhaps one of the most blissful mornings of his
life, filled with so many people when Harry was used to eating alone.

The two sides only intermingled at the center of the table, where Jon and Yelena were
keeping simple conversation...and where Brook and Damian pretended to shoot the
occasional jab or glare at one another. Which Harry wondered if it was code for hidden
affectionate words between them.

All that stopped when Mr. Alfred Pennyworth commended Mr America -um- Captain
Rogers...Mr Captain Steven Rogers of America on his great pancake making skills.

The whole table went silent, listening to the two interact, exchanging nervous pleasantries
that were so polite, it was a testament to the Captain's age.

Harry wasn't often able to extend pride for himself outside of things like sports, but since
joining the Avengers Dynasty, he'd come to grasp that he was far more useful than he'd ever
realized. His years spent silent at galas and rich-society gatherings gave Harry a skill he'd
only found out he possessed thanks to Damian and Brooklyn.

He was damn good at espionage, a skill he'd been putting to good use lately.

Even now, at a simple breakfast, Harry was able to pick up on small things as easily as his
five year old self could on mindless gossip. Lately, part of his training aside from learning
self defense from Damian, had been instruction from Brooklyn and Lena on learning what to
look for. Little things that could seem rather useless to others, but now painted a greater
picture in his mind.

And yes, maybe he WAS smug that Brooklyn always said he was a damn good spy. It made
him feel like James Bond, or at least the teenage version of it. It made Harry realize that even
though he couldn't fly, encase a field in flames, hack the pentagon, or disarm a thousand men
with ease, he was useful in a way that mattered.

He'd earned his spot as a member of the Avengers Dynasty.

Now, said 'enhanced' skills allowed him to note some very interesting things indeed. Like the
way Dick's alien wife ( THE Starfire no less) often lingered her hand by her stomach. He'd be
willing to wager a moths supply of Rice Crispy treats that she was pregnant.

He noted the distance Peter had kept from Damian since yesterday, likely in fear he'd be
killed for once trying to ask Brook out.
Harry could tell that even though Mr. Stark was not thinking of killing Jon for dating Lena,
the man was not happy to see the half-kryptonian's arm around his daughter's shoulders.

His newfound attentiveness made him realize that Brook and Damian must be using that as a
distraction, that because Brook's dad looked elsewhere, they were able to hold hands under
the table undisturbed.

Yes, he'd noticed that too, the slight tilting of their arms towards one another that made it
seem like the two teens were just ready to reach for their weapons. What others might
mistake as them being angry and uncomfortable being seated so closely to their strongest
enemy, getting ready to attack.

No wonder Harry had never noticed the change between them. Brook and Damian were good
at keeping their secrets their own, but more than that, they had peoples' perceptions of their
hatred to safe-guard their true relationship.

The fact that they even risked such an innocent move, a simple clasp of hands amongst the
royalty that would no doubt rip them apart if caught...in Harry's eyes, it spoke of the level of
feelings the two teens had for one another.

It was also a desolate feeling to know even holding hands, something most overlooked in life
and did not think of it as a luxury like his friends did...damn, Harry never thought he'd feel
bad for a Wayne in his life. Never thought he'd hate Mr. Stark and Mr. Wayne either, that
such resentment extended to all ancestors beforehand. Ones that created the rivalry that could
tare two perfectly good people away from one another.

Yes, this was a mess. Such a beautiful and deplorable situation. A convoluted love story.

But the youngest member of the Osborn family could also see that whatever tension
yesterday's unfinished fight had caused was not over. Mr. Wayne did not seem to think so,
even if he'd been relatively quiet as of now.

He too liked to observe, as Harry expected from the world's greatest detective. But he was
also one that had no idea his son had perhaps committed the greatest treason their last name
could allow.

Mr. Wayne, for all his manners and poise, was only a patient man for show. When it came to
doing nothing after the Joker had basically turned the world upside down, Bruce was restless
enough to win a gold medal for it if such an emotion held competition.

Or was at least restless enough to risk his wife's wrath by suddenly suggesting the manner of
who would make decisions going forward, was still not settled.

Amidst the silence, Harry could do nothing but watch as Mr. Stark lounged on his chair like a
king, lazily twirling a goblet of OJ as he claimed the Avengers were still more suited for the
assignment caused by Bruce's past mistakes when it came to Gotham's clown.

One second, the table was quiet, the next, Tony and Bruce were yelling at one another across
it. Harry had a perfect view of the surprisingly heart-wrenching second when Brook and
Damian let go of one another's hands as the verbal fight began.

They had roles to play, parents to defend.

It was devastating in a way Harry had never thought he'd witness. Sure he knew their
relationship was forbidden and secret, but seeing the challenges and costs that came with that
were surprisingly sobering.

Harry didn't hear much of the discussion, only knew Ms Potts and Mrs Wayne were the ones
to put an end to it, backed up by both hero groups. In the end, both women proclaimed the
enemy would not be stopped unless both sides assumed equal responsibility.

Neither hero group looked pleased at the thought of a closer alliance, but no one could argue
against it after what the Joker had done. After all they'd almost lost.

In the end, the most glorious of coin tosses was made to determine where the first meeting of
this stronger alliance would take place. It ended up benefitting Tony Stark in the end. And
seeing as there was nothing the heroes could do until things calmed down in the world
beyond, they decided there was no better time for that than the present.

After breakfast, the Avengers, Justice League, and the Wayne children disappeared into one
of the high-security meeting rooms, looking both annoyed and worried.

To none of their surprises, the Avengers Dynasty were not allowed in such meetings. They
were too young, had been through enough...blah blah blah. Despite Peter's pleas to Mr. Stark
that they were ready to help, Brooklyn's and Yelena's glares at their father, and Damian's
threats to skin Bruce alive if he kept him out of this 'assignment'...they were all sent to rest.

Technically, Damian and Jon were supposed to go back to the 'guest house' the Waynes and
Justice League were staying at. Thankfully, because of security reasons, people like
Superman and Hawkeye had not brought their families to the compound since they still
remained a secret from the world and would continue to be safest that way. Meaning both the
house across the property, and the Avengers floor, were basically devoid of any prying eyes
from those present.

The Avengers Dynasty may be locked out of a mission for now, but that didn't mean that
couldn't work that out for their advantage.

Deciding that having a Wayne amongst Starks in either building was still too high a risk if
they were caught, they decided that after a day keeping appearances around the compound
with their expected alliances, they'd have a little 'sleepover' ruse instead to stick together later
on.

As in, the boys would remain in Peter's room, and the girls in Brooklyn's bedroom a few
doors down.

Seeing as the heroes were still in conference (or fighting one another), by the time dinner
rolled around, it seemed their plan would go by undisturbed.
If anyone came in and asked, they could just say the concept of being left scattered alone
across the compound was too much to bear after what happened with the Joker. That they
were just the scared and fragile little teens they thought they were.

In his defense, it wasn't entirely a lie.

This had been Harry's and Tanya's idea, both of which had shared a quick glance between
words as they tried to convince the others of their plan. A look that said much still being
harbored inside their minds.

Their friends had almost died, and being away after seeing them in those hospital rooms was
still a discomfort neither wanted to live through. He could tell MJ and Ned felt as they did,
because they were quick to agree to the plan rather than trying to risk the wrath of Earth's
mightiest heroes by spying on them.

A risk they all might've taken days ago, but for now they all just needed some calm and quiet.
Once the weekend ended, they'd all have to go back into the world and its dangers, to get
ready for a battle to come.

Harry reasoned it was alright to be a little selfish today.

So he and the boys were quick to settle into the surprisingly simple bedroom that belonged to
Peter. One he only used when he stayed in this technological marvel of a place.

It would be big enough for them all to fit on the floor, even if Damian was already glaring at
the piles of blankets and pillows he and Ned had arranged. Nevertheless, like the rest of
them, Damian reluctantly settled between Harry and Ned.

If anything, what truly seemed to bother him was the fact that;

a) his pets were not here (Ned was allergic to cats and Damian refused to leave one of his
pets to suffer alone for said allergies)

b) he'd had to wear some of Peter's PJs like the rest of them.

Harry had his luggage back in his own guest room, but had elected to borrow clothes like Jon
and Damian. And while he was quite content with his Back to the Future set, laughing at the
way Peter's Captain America set looked small on Jon's long legs...nothing was funnier than
seeing Damian pouting angrily with arms crossed, glaring down at his Death Star printed pjs.

They were the only black ones Peter possessed, but even then, Harry and Jon were having a
hard time trying not to laugh, masking their smiles by stuffing their mouths with the large
array of snacks Peter had brought over.

Though Harry knew he and his friends were slightly irked by the non-invitation to those
private meetings that had everything to do with them, he really couldn't say he hadn't been
waiting for an opportunity like this.

A chance to understand Damian better, past his own inferences.

Would delving deeper into the Wayne's personal matters get Harry killed? Probably.

But it was a chance he was willing to take not just for curiosity's sake. Harry admitted that
his downfall with Damian was partially his fault, that unlike Brooklyn, he hadn't seen past
the Wayne's surface.

If they were to be teammates, true friends, Harry wanted to work towards that.

Granted, he could've taken a...better approach.

Fueled by his excitement, Harry had turned to face a still frowning Damian and said, "Now
that the court of super cool Dynasty men is gathered. Tell me Damian, whats the deal with
you and Brook?"

Ned and Peter's hushed conversation went silent before them. And Harry caught the subtle
move of Peter lifting his sleeve where a web shooter lay cozily against his wrist. Likely ready
to fire should this turn into a fight.

Whether he'd shoot that web to Harry's mouth to seal it shut or to stop Damian should he
charge at Harry...of that he wasn't certain.

Whatever annoyance Damian felt towards his attire quickly ended, shifting into barely
repressed patience that he'd seen the young Wayne display many times at galas of their youth.

Only this was different somehow.

His reluctance, however visible, was not due to anger. But something Harry couldn't even
begin to understand, a hidden emotion behind those emerald eyes that was perhaps not meant
for his feeble understanding.

A few months ago, Harry wouldn't have believed someone like Damian Wayne was probably
single handedly funding the ASPCA. That he cared about things other than himself. Just
being able to tell the difference between his resting face and actual anger was already a great
success in his book.

Damian simply scoffed, "That's none of your business"

Jon placed an arm around his friend, one that was quickly swatted off without Jon so much as
looking surprised by the action.

"Don't be like that, Damian. Can you blame Harry for being curious about your relationship?"
the half-kryptonian pointed out, leaning back against his cluster of pillows like a lazy feline,
"We're all friends here. No one is asking out of malice, just curiosity. Besides, if our friends
are going to be keeping your secret, they might as well understand what they are keeping
hidden to begin with"

The teen seated with perfect posture, looking so out of place from his usual elegance amongst
the silly sleeping set up and borrowed PJs, seemed only slightly less menacing than usual.
But something in Jon's words struck a chord, something that finally made the Wayne relent
with as much acceptance as he'd let show.
A simple nod.

Aware of his limited patience and versatility on knowing how to kill a man, Harry chose his
next words carefully. He may take risks, but he still valued his life. He was in the most
interesting part of his glorious teens after all, dying now would be a tragedy.

Harry looked between Jon (his first line of defense) and Damian as he asked a question he
was sure no one had expected from him, "These emotions you have towards Brooklyn...aside
from being forbidden by your last name, I assume your mother would not praise them"

Damian raised a brow.

"Obviously" he deadpanned, "Though my mother would not have cared much for her Stark
name, she wouldn't encourage me to be with her or anyone for anything unless it was
convenient for a greater scheme. As a tool to a victory or perhaps a greater prize. There is no
love to be had for those who bear the name al Ghul"

Harry frowned.

"But you care about your mother" he pressed.

Damian nodded, only hesitating slightly.

"Then if she disapproved alongside your father and all those you care for...what would you
do? What cost would be necessary to give up what you've gained?" Harry asked, much to the
astonishment of their audience. Some of which (Ned and Pete) were silently begging him not
to continue down this path with silent shakes of their heads and nervous clutching of stray
lego pieces.

Jon on the other hand, just leaned back against his cluster of pillows, unafraid and perhaps
curious of the answer himself.

He knew Damian best, if he wasn't telling Harry to shut his mouth, then he must be doing
something worthwhile. Or the Kryptonian was not afraid of whatever force of retaliation
Damian could bestow, being stronger than any human and all.

But for friendship's sake, Harry would tread these uncertain and dangerous waters.

This particular question had been the thing that bothered Harry the most during his nightly
reflection after all. He knew Damian was willing to defy his father at all costs if it meant even
just figuring out what his thing with Brooklyn could be. It's what he was doing after all.

But recently, Harry was reminded with every fight witnessed by his very eyes, the skills
displayed, a reminder that the teen had not grown up a Wayne as he'd suspected for years.
Damian had been an al Ghul. The grandson of a ruthless killer of myth, a mother who had
caused Gotham several grievances in years past.

It was not to say Damian was all ruthlessness and cruel intellect, Harry knew better than to
assume that now. But that did not mean a part of those teachings did not remain.
If Talia al Ghul came, if she expressed discontent over this relationship the way Bruce Wayne
certainly would...would that be enough for Damian to let go of what could possibly be the
best thing he had going in life?

Harry did not presume to know the intricacies of the League of Assassins. All he knew was
the little Damian had cared to share these past few months, as well as some words from Jon
himself.

In a way, Harry was afraid that if Damian was pushed far enough by the adults he looked up
to most in his life, his parents and siblings, that he might break Brooklyn's heart without a
second thought.

Only Damian's response was not what he had expected at all.

Harry had assumed Damian would scoff at the words, stating that there was logic and
importance in the opinions of his family members. He was the Robin to his father's Batman
after all. Had been the heir to a kingdom for half his life, was likely used to answering to his
mother's commands.

But the teen simply explained in that unapologetic way of his, "I have witnessed Brooklyn
bleed for my sake when she had every reason to walk away, and I have done the same. I
decided to fight by her side, as well as tread together an unfamiliar path for both of us.
Something she also decided to take on. None of this has anything to do with anyone but us.
So yes, I am behaving in a way Talia al Ghul would disapprove, because feelings and
emotions were never meant to be qualities I should place above logic"

Damian looked down at his calloused hands. Those he'd likely used to fight and kill for many
years under the instruction of said woman, one who apparently deemed emotions as
unnecessary burdens.

"Father would scorn me for cherishing a female he assumes is someone unworthy and no
better than her father. By wanting to protect and care for Brooklyn, I no doubt disappoint all.
But I will defy each and every person on this Earth that thinks they can stand between us for
as long as Brooklyn and I choose to walk that path of life as one. No matter the dangers,
opinions, and difficulties...I will fight for that something more"

Damian turned his gaze to the small window above Peter's messy bed, stared at the rising
moonlight as he added strongly, "I don't do it because we have successfully fought the
shadows together for months, or because of the compatibility of our skills in battle. I'm not
defying my world to gain something if that's what any of you think. I am with Brooklyn Stark
for the most selfish of reasons, one in which I seek to gain nothing of my own. I'm not with
Brook for carnal desire, for exploration of the unknown, not for strategy or because it's some
sort of challenge. She is the only selfish wish I have ever allowed for myself to explore. So to
answer your question, the universe itself could try and scorn this, and I'd still hold Brooklyn's
hand, and use the other to hold my weapon as we take on that opposition side by side. It's the
first battle I go in knowing I might not win, but if I lose...she and I will do that together too"

Harry was left speechless like his friends. Not just because he was certain that was the most
Damian had ever spoken at once, but because there was such strong devotion and strength in
those statements that they couldn't be mistaken for anything other than the truth.

For the naturally silent individuals, words were reserved for things that mattered. That much
Harry had learned from observations of hundreds throughout the years.

It seemed that for Damian, such a matter of importance was Brooklyn Stark herself.

Damian had no doubt or concern he could fend off anything that could stand between him
and Brooklyn. He'd face hell itself if such a force deemed itself an enemy, and Harry would
feel bad for it if it did. Because beside all that strength invoked by emotions the teen had
deemed unfamiliar, there was also a never-ending fuel Harry could only call commitment.

Loyalty.

Damian had seen Brooklyn covered head to toe in burning flames and he'd never once turned
away. From what Harry had seen with his own eyes as well as what he'd been told by his
friends, Damian Wayne had never once beheld her with the hesitation and sometimes
unavoidable fear the rest of them had been unable to push back.

Likewise, Brook seemed all but ready to face any and all consequences of Damian's nightly
Gotham activities, no matter who the enemy was. She'd go toe to toe with the City of Sinners'
worst if it meant keeping Damian alive.

They were both strength and power personified, yet neither seemed to balk at the other's
fortitude. That loyalty of theirs ran deep, and though Harry understood that now, he couldn't
help but think that his own life experiences limited him from truly grasping what this
'Brooklyn and Damian' phenomenon was in its entirety.

Perhaps he didn't need to understand.

All Harry needed to know, what he'd come to understand after Damian's response, is that no
harm would come to Brook from Damian, and vice versa. As a friend, that's all he could
possibly ask for. Right?

With a smile on his face, Harry patted Damian's arm. Once. Twice. Until the teen finally
looked away from the window.

The Wayne didn't glare at Harry's hand, but simply challenged Harry with a look, awaiting
his response.

In the end, Harry could only speak with his heart.

"You son of a bitch..." Harry muttered, "You're going to make the rest of us men look bad
with your kind of commitment"

A few stray chuckles from Jon later, the blue-eyed Kryptonian amended, "Men? We're just
teens"

"Semantics" Harry replied with a shrug, "Besides, you and Lena are so disgustingly sweet
with one another that it makes me feel shitty too, Kent. When she looks at you, its like for the
first time in her life, she's beholding world peace"

Beside Harry, Ned and Peter could only nod. Peter actually looked a little relieved, either that
this hadn't turned into a fight, or that he too got answers he'd wondered about as well.

"The Red Room may have been a void of emotions, but somehow, two of the fiercest love
stories came out of it" Ned mused, "You're as lucky to be dating the girls as they are of
having you"

Damian rolled his eyes at the words, but Harry could tell he perhaps did not mind the fact
that someone found him worthy of Brooklyn. Or that someone thought he was doing a damn
good job at the 'emotions thing' to be deemed lucky to have.

In all fairness, Harry thought that for all his cruel beginnings, Damian WAS doing a good
job.

Who would've thought that Harry Osborn would one day be sitting here at the Avengers
compound playing video games with his closest guy friends, accepting the fact that Damian
was not just a decent hero, but perhaps a more caring individual that Harry could've ever
imagined.

If someone had told his past self that he'd stay up till ten obliterating a kryptonian with
enhanced senses at Mario Kart, or that a Wayne would be seated beside him fighting Peter for
every win...he might've laughed in their faces.

But after a long night of fun and jokes, just before they settled on their respective sections of
the mass atrocity that was their dozens of bedsheets and blankets scattered on the floor of
sacred grounds in which heroes lived in, Harry found the courage to approach Damian and
whisper, "I know now that you probably won't hurt Brook, willingly. But if you ever do, I'll
avenge my friend. Thought you should know"

Damian actually smirked at the words, either out of the sheer ridiculousness of the thought of
them fighting, or because the teen was so sleep deprived his lips moved on their own. It was a
terrifying grin that made the hairs on Harry's arms stand.

But he meant his threat though. Brooklyn had stood up for him against his own father, she'd
done so much for his friends, and had helped him realize he was more than just what the
world deemed him worthy of.

Brooklyn Stark did not need protection of any sort. But Harry would give it, however useless.

"I won't hurt her" Damian replied with such finality Harry knew it was as good as an
unbreakable promise, then the Wayne added with some barely visible amusement, "But out
of curiosity's sake, how do you think you'll be able to stop me?"

Harry knew that no matter the great skills Brook said he possessed in terms of espionage, it
wouldn't be nearly enough to dent Damian in a fight. Such a fight would be like Bambi going
against King Kong, and Harry would be the poor forest animal in the equation.
So instead he spoke of the one thing he knew Damian would likely relent to. The one
observation from today that had surprised him as well.

Damian's devotion to the British old man who wanted Captain America's pancake recipe.

"If you hurt her...I'll tell Alfred"

Damian looked appalled by the threat, and before heading to the adjacent bathroom for his
turn to use it, he whispered, "You sick, nadhl" then slammed the door behind him.

Harry had to use the minutes it took Damian to return for looking up what that word meant.

As it turned out, it meant bastard in Arabic. The translation alone made Harry smile, the fact
that Damian considered a simple elderly butler a viable threat, kept him grinning until the
lights went out and they all settled in.

Just as he was about to close his eyes for good, he heard Ned whisper into the room from
beside him, "Wait. We talked about the girls. Do you guys think the girls were talking about
us?"

The thought was unsettling enough that most of them deigned to laugh (save for Damian),
nervously anyways.

Harry went to sleep 50% certain the girls were not gossiping about them. And 80% sure that
Damian wasn't going to kill him in his sleep. All in all, it seemed like good odds.

He slept like the dead.

*****

Tanya POV-

"Are you ready to commit?" Tanya asked, leaning against the bathroom door where Brooklyn
was brushing back her long locks before the large and pristine mirror.

Tanya shouldn't have been amused by the technological innovations this place had. She
wouldn't let herself become distracted by the displays of weather reports and news of the day
on the mirror, not when she had a goal.

Everyone could go ahead and pretend this thing with Brooklyn and Damian was the new
normal. They could accept it and move on, focus on helping keep it a secret for as long as
they lived. That was all well and good.

Just not for Tanya.

She hadn't known Damian or Brookyln very long. And in that time, she'd discovered enough
surprising things about them both, such as secret identities and having dual pasts as assassins,
to not be shocked by yet another secret laid in the shadows.

In fact, Tanya suspected many more secrets were left unsaid.

Like how today before their planned sleepover, while they ate lunch out in the private
gardens as per Ms. Potts urging, something rather fishy had come to light. Well, it had all
started the day of Brooklyn and Damian's fight, and even if their relationship had not been
revealed to her afterwards, the enigma that was Casssie Lang would've still made her pause.

Because the little girl who'd happy slept till mid-day came into the gardens to join them. But
she'd scanned their surroundings first, and upon finding no adults, the young one had gone to
hug Peter...then her gaze locked on the two lovers in question.

She'd greeted them both excitedly, seeming to stumble on their names. Though Damian had
been indifferent during the encounter, he had not pushed Cassie off his lap when she claimed
the place as her own.

Brooklyn had only grinned at the sight, then proceeded to feed the young girl while sending
weary gazes at the others. Their friends had been too busy eating, enjoying the large array of
delicacies on the table, to note the way Cassie Lang beheld both teens like they were a
guiding light...the moon and the stars in the sky.

Tanya, who'd been curious of the young girl since her interruption of the fight, kept a close
eye on the seemingly private interactions only partially covered by the foliage of the Weeping
Willows around the outdoor table.

Foliage not only hiding them from sight of the compound and passing agents, but kept some
of Brooklyn's and Damian's interactions private from the table too.

She caught sight of Brook's attentiveness towards the young girl's food, as if she knew which
foods Cassie liked and disliked. The nickname 'Brookie' was commonly used, and neither
teen seemed surprised by it.

As for Damian, the usually stoic and harsh-mannered of the two, he too was being extra
gentle towards said child. He'd reprimand her when manners were out of place, and the little
girl would listen, not like a command had been given...but as if she took his words and
understood the wisdom behind them.

With familiarity.

Granted, Damian's tone was not harsh when speaking to Cassie as it normally was when he
spoke to most. And he always provided reasons as to why her behaviors were unacceptable.

Don't eat with your mouth full. You could choke.

Trying to catch butterflies while eating is not wise. You could spill food on your clothes.

They were more like the reprimands of a dutiful father, and Brooklyn's following laughter
always provided the interactions with an air of domestic bliss to it that had Tanya thinking
she was beholding something precious and rare.

The way they exchanged witty banter between one another, spoke in languages unfamiliar to
her as if they were made for their use in secrecy, and despite Damian doing his best to keep
his emotions unseen...Tanya could tell he trusted those at the table enough to at least reveal a
small bit of that harbored affection towards Brooklyn now.

It was honestly quite beautiful. Something worthy of a million songs, ballads, and paintings.

The sun peeking through the drooping leaves of the willows almost made the three look
angelic. It made them look all the more perfect, like Yelena insisted the pair was.

Because in a sense, they were perfect. Not as individuals, but as a couple.

Even tackling the amusements of a child, the two worked as well together as they did in
battle. There was a balance to them, an air of ease to their actions that made them seem more
docile than their shared pasts would make someone believe.

Brooklyn smiled more when he was around. And Damian, despite all his dislikes and
annoyances with the mundane happenings of the world, genuinely looked like he was living
in the moment when Brook was around.

Tanya had not known how to describe this oddity before her, had not known how to label this
new secret relationship she'd been trusted in knowing about. She, of course, was not against
them being together. No one in that garden had been, especially after thinking them both dead
for the better part of a grueling day.

But this wasn't like in the romance books Tanya indulged in from time to time, where a pair
was just absolutely perfect, and thus their relationship was too. An obvious outcome. Tanya
had no doubt Tony Stark would blast Damian to oblivion if news of this got out, or that
Brooklyn would end up impaled atop one of Gotham's highest skyscrapers if Bruce Wayne
caught wind of this.

This affection the two had was dangerous. Not for one another, but in the eyes of those
hovering around their lives. And those two, who were perhaps the most sensible and logical
people she'd ever come to meet, they were willing to brave it all for even the smallest chance
that what they had meant something true.

She honestly had not known how they did it. How they managed this gigantic secret, kept a
city safe, hunted down what could possibly be the greatest alliance of villains in history,
played the parts their last names required of them, went to school...and still had time to care
for one another.

Tanya had chuckled to herself later while laying on Brooklyn's bed.

With this new secret, the Dynasty was fighting a three sided war. One against Cobalus and his
allies, against Damian's and Brooklyn's family, and just general crime in Queens. A three
sided war, which would be a badass video game, but not one Tanya particularly enjoyed
playing in real life. She liked reset buttons. And if there was anything she'd learned from the
Joker's grand attack, it was that some dangers were unavoidable and had drastic
consequences.
That is why she'd asked what she did instead of begging for sweet details of Brook's
mysterious relationship (no matter how curious she was of the romantic sides of her two
friends). As a friend, she needed to know Brooklyn really was serious about this tremulous
path ahead.

Damian wasn't exactly the...most easy of guys to read. Though she knew now that he'd been
raised to rule the world, that he had the skills to destroy everything good in the world, funnily
enough, it was his secret identity of Robin (the borderline criminal) that gave her hope.

And Brooklyn, the girl raised by killers of equal prowess, who possessed the power of deadly
flames...she knew for a fact there was more than that inside her friend. So it could only be
assumed there had to be some redeemable qualities in Damian for them to be together.

She didn't need to know what those qualities were just now, but she needed to know that this
enormous secret was being called into effect for something more than Damian's unnatural
good looks.

"Commit?" Brooklyn frowned, setting down her hairbrush, "Like a crime, or are you
speaking of my relationship?"

Tanya grinned at Brook's reflection, stepping into the bathroom to begin braiding her friend's
hair the way she saw Yelena sometimes did to her sister in times of nervousness. Hoped it
might ease her for the talk ahead.

"I'm pretty sure we're already committing around fifteen crimes daily just to save lives" she
mused, "But yes, I am talking about Damian. You do realize you could practically date any
guy in the world right? Why go with the difficult, near-impossible choice?"

Gazing at Tanya from their reflection, Brook raised a perfectly groomed brow. Either in
challenge or confusion.

"I would've thought you'd be pestering me about what it's like to date him, not if I was
serious about it" Brooklyn replied, hands braced on the skin before her as she let Tanya
arrange her auburn locks.

Outside the bathroom, Tanya could hear Yelena and MJ making well-structured, court-worthy
arguments over the superiority of opposing films. But she figured both girls must also be
listening intently to what was being said.

MJ at least had to be. From her times pinning over the curly-haired girl, Tanya had learned
that Michelle was ALWAYS listening to things around her even if she ignored most of that
information.

The only things she truly paid attention to were those regarding the people closest to her.

Tanya did not mind their audience through, she figured they must be as curious as she was.
Especially Yelena, who despite being Brook's sister, knew next to nothing about this top-
secret relationship.
Tanya expertly weaved the strands of hair with familiarity as she explained, "I'm not saying
that I'm questioning the validity of your emotions for him. I know you care for him. I just
don't want either of you to get hurt. We're all a team, but more than that, we're friends. If this
secret is something you want to pursue wholeheartedly, we'll back you up"

She knew what it sounded like. That there was no way to explain this wasn't some shitty
intervention. But Tanya knew that despite being trained for that particular attribute, Brook
was no liar. And Damian, that boy spoke his mind no matter the harshness of his words.

If they said they were together for feelings, then one could assume nothing less.

Perhaps what Tanya was trying (and failing) to ask was whether or not Brook had considered
the consequences of such feelings.

Tanya sure as hell had when she began dating Raven. Her beautiful girlfriend had sat them
both down one day during their first days as a couple, and expressed her concerns for Tanya.

Concerns about Tanya's safety for dating a member of the Teen Titans. Distress that Tanya
may feel she had no privacy due to the nature of Raven's abilities to read and steal emotions.
Most of all, her girlfriend as concerned Tanya would not be up to the challenge to date the
daughter of a demon, one that despite being dead, still had a heavy influence in her life.

Tanya had dated around prior to this, but not once in her life had she had to consider pros and
cons of such severity. Never had she been in a relationship whose existence had ripples of
effect for much larger things.

Jon and Yelena were on the same boat. Though both families seemed relaxed enough to let
the relationship be (more so on Jon's side of the family if Superman's subtle smiles at the pair
this morning at breakfast meant anything), she could tell that challenges might one day come
their way.

Jon, no matter how sweet and adorable, was still part of an alien race living in a planet that
didn't have the best track record when visitors came by.

Everyone in this compound might be fine with Jon and Lena being a couple, the world might
one day come to accept the fact that a Stark married the son of a simple reporter...but if word
ever spread of Jon's origins, the world might not be so accepting of an alien being paired with
a human of one of the most powerful and respected families on Earth.

Just the way Tanya's own father might not be happy she was basically dating a demon should
he ever find out.

Brookyln's faint sigh brought Tanya back from her worrying thoughts.

"Damian Wayne is stubborn, laconic, unapologetic of who he is, and perhaps a bit proud."
Brooklyn said, "There was a time that was all I allowed myself to see. Then I noticed his
kindness, one hidden behind anger, easily mistaken for something else. He and I are one in
the same, and upon realizing that, it wasn't hard to see the bravery deep within him. It became
very hard to hate him, even when I tried"
From somewhere in the main room, Tanya heard MJ say, "That's why they say, people who
live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones..."

Tanya couldn't help but roll her eyes at the wiseness of it all. She'd heard that saying before in
English class, one that meant people who have faults should not criticize other people for
having the same faults.

It was almost disappointing how it took yesterday's confession for Tanya to see her two
friends could come together past fragile agreements of peace or beginnings of a friendship.
And for all her wise words, even MJ had not noticed.

After a deep breath, Brook added strongly, "We're a lot alike, but the parts where we're
different, the things that don't match up like our families...we are able to work through it too.
I think that's why this thing we have is near perfect"

"Near perfect?" Tanya asked with alarm, worried trouble was already in paradise.

Brook only nodded, "Near perfect because it's still evolving, I think. Our differences make it
close to that perfection I think. He has attributes I don't, and he needs characteristics only I
have. It's a balance I thought would cause me endless headaches, that would prove Ivan right
that emotions were not worth the effort or weaknesses. But this thing with Damian, it makes
me feel lighter. It's not war, its peace. It's forgiveness and patience, things I was not sure I
ever deserved once upon a time"

"So everything is good? Perfect? You're sure about Damian?" Tanya dared to ask.

"I'M not perfect, Tanya. I've made some terrible choices in the past, some might argue I made
all the wrong choices too. But out of all the choices that I made, this is not one I regret.
Maybe my last name could grant me a broader choice of who to be with as you said, but none
of them would understand me as I am, and as I was. Damian IS the difficult choice, but he's
mine, and he and I see each other clearly"

Tanya's hands stilled from their half-finished work.

She noticed the debate outside the bathroom had also come to a halt. There was nothing but
the sound of Yelena's choice of classical music and the whirling of the lavender-scented
humidifier in the room.

Amidst the silence, Brooklyn's determined gaze softened, and as her eyes closed, the tension
in her muscles seemed to deflate. Before Tanya was the sight of a tired soldier as she
whispered, "When I came to after what happened and I thought he was...gone...I can't even
describe what that emotion was, what it felt like. The Red Room snuffed out any trace of
mourning from us at a young age, but that feeling of loss, the thought that I might walk this
path without the boy who I held at knife point mid-waltz during our first meeting" a sigh, "I
knew then that no matter how much I'd tried to belittle the intensity of my emotions for
Damian as of late, it didn't lessen the fact that he is perhaps the one person in this world that
makes me more normal than anyone else. I feel more for him that I let myself realize"
Tanya knew a little of what that was like. Though she'd yet to speak of it with her friends, she
texted Raven often, knew the fear of her girlfriend's life being on the line with every mission
she took on. Though Tanya had yet to mention her involvement with the Avengers Dynasty
out of secrecy owed to her friends, she figured that same worry would cloud Raven if she was
aware of the dangers around her.

"And when dad finds out?" Yelena's accent-rich voice came from the door where the blonde
was leaning against causally. Tanya turned and saw that her friend was laid-back with her
words, both sisters locking eyes in the mirror.

"Ty zashchitish' yego ot nashego ottsa? Ostalis' by vy ryadom s nim, yesli by vam prishlos'
vybirat'?" Yelena asked in a language Tanya could now identify as Russian.

Whatever the question was, asked in their language either for privacy or out of habit between
sisters, Brooklyn nodded like there was no room for argument.

As if the answer pleased her, Yelena smiled, rosy lips widening even as she returned back to
the bedroom, clad in one of Jon's blue football hoodies she no longer had to hide her
possession of.

Brooklyn stared at her sister's retreating form with a smile too, as if the two had come to
some sort of understanding. Tanya had a feeling that whatever 'overprotective big sister talk'
that could've come into place was long since dissolved.

Tanya pivoted Brook's head back to its previous spot, finishing off the small braids she'd been
working on with renowned peace.

In many ways Yelena and Brook were very alike, and through that mutual understanding,
Tanya could only hope (with more certainty this time) that this meant Brook and Damian
being together was a good thing.

Who knew the day would come when Jon and Yelena would date, that Jon's best friend and
Yelena's sister would as well? Kyrpotonian, Stark, and Wayne blood all currently under one
roof peacefully. If only the adults would adapt some of that peace...

Whatever fears she'd had for her friend lessened then. All her inquiries answered..for now.

"Let's hope Peter doesn't blow it and begins talking about the time he almost asked Brook
out" Tanya announced humorously to the room behind her, "That won't end well"

A series of chuckles were met at the words, even from Brook. And MJ, casually lounging on
the bed, visible through the reflection of the mirror, didn't seem the least bit bothered that
Peter had almost gone down that path.

Tanya's feelings for MJ had been quick and desperate, and though her feelings for Raven had
the potential to have continued down that road, they'd turned into something special. Now,
Tanya could only hope that if Parker ever got the balls to ask out Michelle, that they'd be fine
too.
Damn, life really was a wild ride.

It was MJ that answered with amusement in her stale words, "Well, we're either going to see
the whole compound destroyed, or their bromance is going to go all the way"

Amidst the chuckles and the tears of joy at the sheer image of it all, Tanya and Brook
rejoined the others, and beholding them now...she couldn't help but cherish them all the more
for it. For all of it. The laughs. The trust. The feeling of being part of something that
continued to blossom.

For now, she had her girls, and they had this one night to be teenagers. To teach Brook and
Yelena what they had missed out on before they went out to face the world at war, placing
themselves in the front lines.

So amidst the face-masks, old 'chick-flick' movies and snacks, that sense of ease only grew.
The girls painted their nails, though none of them chose red, the color of the blood currently
staining the world as if that was enough of a reminder to ruin their good time.

MJ and Tanya learned to dance from the Starks, and in turn, the two taught the ex-assassins
of the world of the 50s they'd explore at school soon enough. They'd gotten emails from
school that the dance was in fact, not canceled.

She figured it was Queens trying to get back to normal, whatever normal even meant
anymore.

But it would be fun, and after everything, didn't her friends deserve a bit of that?

*****

Brooklyn and Damian POV-

The cool breeze of the night was as welcoming as the light of the moon up in the skies.
Despite the chill that cooled the planks below them, Brook and Damian did not seem to mind
it one bit.

By some silent agreement, both had snuck out of their respective rooms to come to the one
place where no cameras or people could ever find them.

Both of them being here was nothing but a coincidence, but a welcome one at that.

Neither had hesitated to take off their shoes, let their feet dangle on the edge of the dock as
the beheld the lake beyond, side by side. The darkness of the night would be enough to
obscure their forms from even the closest of guards patrolling the edges of the compound, a
darkness both welcomed.

Upon first seeing one another, Brook's smile had only widened when she realized Damian
was wearing borrowed pjs from none other than Peter. In turn, Damian relented one of his
now-less-rare grins at the sight of the dozen or so tiny braids hidden within her tresses.
They'd exchanged a series of chuckles at the sight, then quickly settled down, arm-in-arm as
they tried to bask in the peace that would likely end as the sun rose. Tomorrow, Damian's
family might make an argument to go back home once the last of their medical treatments
were finished.

A day later, they along with their friends, were expected back at school.

Once they left this dock, both would have to go back to the fake-hatred, the lies and deceit,
not to mention getting back to work trying to stop this mess. They'd have to deal with the
school spirit week prior to the dance they'd only be able to attend together under the guise of
unity for power. They'd go back to the misery of their interning jobs with the fathers who
likely wanted nothing more than to keep the teens as far from one another as possible after
yesterday's fight.

At least for now, there was no need to think of last names or the troubles ahead, it was just
Brook and Damian.

On this particular night, it seemed all twenty or so species of fireflies native to New York had
chosen to grace the darkness with their light, content to dance around them like willow the
wisps. Fairytale phenomenon Brook and Damian only knew of thanks to Cassie.

It truly was an enchanting sight, one both ex-assassins might not have appreciated as much
had it not been for a bit of everything they'd experienced these past few months.

Head leaning against the crook of Damian's neck, Brooklyn teased, "I take it the boys must've
said something of our relationship?"

Damian groaned, "Harry Osborn needs a mute button"

Brooklyn chucked at the dryness of his words, lifting up a hand before them where fireflies
of green and yellow radiance flickered between her appendages.

She'd never been here alone, much less at this time of night. Had never seen them before.

When she woke earlier, Brook tended to go to the kitchen where she knew her otets could be.
Either busy with work or startled by another poor dream.

Yelena had caught on to that pattern too lately, and sometimes she'd join them as well, and
the three of them would eat ice cream and laugh over the stupidest things until mom woke in
search of dad and ushered them all to bed.

Never angrily, but with a fondness Brook could feel as mom kissed their foreheads goodnight
when dad insisted on tucking them into bed to make up for lost time. Both teens rolled their
eyes and groaned at the action, but they let it happen because in some way, they wanted to
experience that kind of affection too.

She'd considered going to the kitchen tonight when flashes of explosions and the feeling of
falling back down towards the ocean had startled her awake. Seeing her friends and sister
tucked in close on the bed beside her, lost in blissful sleep, had been a comfort.
Brook figured dad must be done picking fights with the Justice League to have made it back
to their floor (unaware a Wayne slept in one of those rooms). But instead of going to him,
she'd come here seeking the cold breeze and the peace of the night sky.

Who knew she'd come to find an even greater source of calm, one she'd been dying to speak
to alone?

Damian had not been roused from sleep as she had, likely because he hadn't gone to sleep in
the first place. It wasn't for lack of trust over his companions, fearing one might try and kill
him in his sleep. His trust in them was near absolute by now.

It had been because despite the fact that Harry was normally a being of average
intelligence...his words had succeeded at keeping Damian up. Thinking. Wondering.

For all the stability the world had regained these past days, nothing could ever make it feel
safe again. Damian had seen the Joker do some abhorrent acts of crime, things that made
him...'not disagree' occasionally...with Jason's propositions that ending the clown's life might
be for the better.

But that horrible act from days ago had been a statement, a sign that whatever reservations
the Joker had possessed over keeping his challenges exclusively for the Batman to deal with,
were long out the window.

The Joker was no longer a nuisance, he was a threat.

A threat to Damian's family, friends, and his beloved.

But he wouldn't speak of that, not now when his beloved was back in his arms, even when
they were surrounded by a place where their families currently resided, he couldn't find it in
himself to be responsible and keep a distance just in case they were being watched by some
stay agent.

Damian had almost lost her, and he'd been watched closely while in this 'enemy territory',
unable to stop and tell her that he felt a great sense of exultation at her being alive and beside
him.

For now, all he could say was, "I have a feeling the teasing we've received truly is just the
beginning."

Frowning at the thin fabric of her mahogany sweater, Brooklyn replied amusedly, "Perhaps.
Do you regret telling them?"

A heartbeat passed.

"No" Damian answered, "Surprisingly, I only got the impression Osbo- Harry- wanted to
help. That all of them do. I can't decide if I respect or am annoyed at their actions"

Brooklyn had felt it too, like a safety blanket had been placed over their most selfish of
secrets. It was safe, cared for, and protected. Brook knew that if their secret ever revealed
itself to others, it would not be from their friends.
"I hope they weren't too hard on you. I know you despise teasing"

Brook tried and failed to cover her grin when he gazed down at her, but he only gently
flicked her nose in retaliation.

"I'd be more concerned with any bold words Tanya could bestow" Damian bit back, which
did indeed make Brooklyn laugh, but added, "They weren't unbearable. Jon was right,
sleepovers of this kind are not completely awful"

At the words, Brooklyn settled closer against his chest, basking in his warmth as their left
hands grazed one another playfully, lazily.

"Oh really? Anything amusing to share?"

Damian rolled his eyes, but immediately answered, "I caught Harry editing a wikipedia
article to try and win an argument we had about the birthplace of a fictional character"

"Since when do you care about fictional characters?" Brook asked, watching as Damian's
gaze turned to the fireflies around them, looking like stars that had descended to Earth to
share in their secret moment.

"Dick is very passionate about The Elder Scrolls. I've had the unfortunate pleasure of being
around the kitchen whenever my brother finished a new game"

Brooklyn grinned wider at the words, at the bit of awkwardness from admitting he cared for
his older brother, that despite having no interest in such affairs, Damian listened intently to
whatever Dick had to say...at least enough to win that argument against Harry.

Then again, both he and Brook were trained to absorb knowledge like sponges. In places like
where they grew up, knowledge of any kind was considered strength. It's why despite having
little to no interest in the simple classes they took at school that were nowhere near their
education level...they still strived for perfect marks. Still listened and took notes.

Yelena had grown up like them, but not to rule one day, not with the molding and shaping to
lead which required absolute perfection. Likely why she was more lax with her own school
lessons. She still got good grades from what Brook had noticed, but she was happy with Bs
most days.

Of all the knowledge to be learned, Brook found she enjoyed learning about Damian's life
most of all. Like his surprising knowledge of video game lore as she'd come to find out
tonight.

Though there was no rule or agreement, no expectation that she ought to share something of
herself in return...Brooklyn often liked to reveal parts of her life so that Damian may get to
know her better as well.

So she offered, "I think I might come here at night more often, maybe practice some ballet
amongst the fireflies. Though I think I might be cursed to think of you whenever I come here
now"
Damian intertwined their hands then, a simple yet soft gesture that still managed to take her
breath away.

"Is it such a curse to think of me?"

Brook heard the teasing in his voice, but it didn't stop her from being honest with her next
words. Words that weren't a secret so much as something she'd never thought to mention, but
the memory of the news feed she'd seen in the med wing still haunted something deep within
her.

"It's not. I think of you quite often when we're not together. I think of you when the good
things happen, when I worry about the bad. When I saw what happened at the hospital...I
know we haven't had a chance to talk about it, but...damn it, I thought you were gone. And
when you showed up alive and breathing I didn't even get enough time to tell you how much
I hated you for making me worry before we were forced to fight one another"

The sounds of nearby crickets and the splashing of fish beyond the waters before them filled
the silence as Damian pulled her closer to him, and Brook did not hesitate to snuggle all the
closer to the boy her dad had proclaimed to be an enemy that would be easy to destroy.

The thing was, Brooklyn was certain that she COULD destroy Damian just as easily as he
could destroy her. It wouldn't be with fists or guns, in the midst of battle. Brook had let
Damian into her heart, and if he ever died, it would destroy her completely.

Damian, for all his habits of keeping emotions in check, had never been able to repress them
well before Brooklyn. Tonight was no exception.

Just the thought alone of seeing that plane explode on TV, the anger he'd felt, that feeling of
his stomach sinking to the ground. It was likely Damian would never forget that feeling for as
long as he lived. Not just because of his immaculate memory, but because just as he did,
Brooklyn faced dangers head on too.

He'd felt that sinking feeling before, albeit with less intensity but equal urgency. It had been
the day he realized she'd been taken, the sight of her in that prison, and the day her execution
by the hands of Ivan had been called upon.

Damian wasn't enough of a hypocrite to ask his beloved to stay out of trouble, not with this
war before them, not when he too wouldn't back down from the fight. But he'd protect her as
best he could, knew for a fact she was probably thinking the same thing.

For once, it was not unpleasant to think someone had his back. He didn't mind that someone
thought he needed protection and was willing to offer it. Damian knew it wasn't because she
thought him incapable of protecting himself, that this wasn't a decision made out of pity or
lack of trust...he knew, because he'd protect her for the only reason that mattered too.

Because she was special to him. Because in the moments of the good and the bad she came to
his mind as well.
Even if only a handful of friends or the whole world knew, his feelings for Brooklyn had not
diminished. This thing they had was an accelerating growth, and before what happened
during the Joker's attack...if Damian thought about it for too long, it seemed petrifying.
Feeling so much. But now, after almost dying, being forced to fight, and having his emotions
questioned, Damian was certain of one thing.

Sure, these unknown feelings were sometimes a challenge for him to handle, but that didn't
mean he cared about Brooklyn any less. Her 'death' had taught him that.

So he embraced her under the moonlight, let himself get lost in the feeling of her comfort
before saying, "Never again, beloved. We'll stop this mess soon enough, and
afterwards...we'll go from there no matter what tries to stand in our way"

Brooklyn could only nod at the words, at the devotion in them, and their hidden meaning.

Yelena had questioned her earlier, asked if Brook was willing to stand by Damian's side if
dad ever found out, inquired if she'd protect him. It had been easy to admit then that she
would, saying so had been easier than she'd thought.

Family was a touchy subject for both her and Damian, because if anything could break them
apart, it would be the loyalties they had to their loved ones. They'd known that from the start,
and she'd always feared it would be their end.

In his own way, Damian had just admitted what she'd told Yelena. That he too would stand by
her side if the worst came to pass, either it being Cobalus and his allies, or their fathers and
their hatred for one another.

Eyes closed and intertwined hands clutched to her collarbone, Brooklyn found herself
replying with ease, "Whatever it takes. We'll fight for these moments"

****

In the forest behind the two teens, two figures made their way back to the compound in awed
silence.

They'd met up for a late coffee at the Avengers Lounge. The purpose of the meeting had not
been to complain about the frown lines their significant others were bestowing upon them
with the battle fiasco yesterday.

It had been to discuss suspicions they'd had for some time now, to clear up glances of
understanding they'd shared in the past.

Pepper Potts knew better than anyone that the Avengers Compound was not the palace for
such talks, so she decided to suggest a midnight walk, something that could perhaps help
calm the pregnant woman beside her.

Selina had known from the moment she saw Ms. Potts outside the conference room after the
heroes' meeting that the two would need to talk eventually. So she'd managed to buy herself a
second of alone time from her husband, Alfred, and her overbearing kids just for this secret
moment.

She had to admit, the forest behind the main compound was a beautiful sight, one that Ms
Potts assured her was visited by no one, and completely safe thanks to the various
impenetrable defenses set up further out in the perimeter of the area.

Clutching her baby bump with one hand and her tea in the other, Selina removed her eyes
from the almost fairy-tale like beauty of her surroundings to say, "My husband may be able to
attribute this to our son's injuries, but I can tell you for certain he was holding his punches
yesterday"

After a sip of her own coffee and extending an arm to help Selina over a fallen branch,
Pepper replied, "My daughter has skills she's not proud of, but I can tell that even without
them, destroying your son never crossed her mind. I've seen what she looks like when she's
lost in a battle. Yesterday was not that"

Indeed, Pepper has seen the glint in her daughter's eyes when she trained those early days.
That intent to destroy was something that Brook had managed to obscure by now, but to a
mother, such things were still visible.

But this wasn't the kind of things they risked so much to share.

"I saw our children together at my house, I saw them kiss" Selina admitted, tea long forgotten
as she pondered the chances of that revelation going south.

She was counting on mother's love after all, the belief that like her, Pepper Potts would not
care about last names or prejudice. That like Selina, all the woman would care about was the
happiness of her child.

That bargain as it turned out, proved correct.

After a brief period of silence for which Pepper reflected on those words, she shared, "I saw
your son at my daughter's apartment one morning. Nothing inappropriate, they just cooked
and had breakfast together. Not a fight in sight. And I know for a fact they met up during a
school dance as well"

Now it was Selina's turn to be aghast.

She knew Damian well enough that he despised people, found most inadequate or lacking.
The only reason he ever stayed at the Kents was not for socializing, but for the large array of
animals they possessed (maybe for Jon's sake too). For Damian to stay at an apartment that
was not his, to deem cooking as something worth doing...she almost smiled at the thought.

Smiled in pride and in joy.

Both women paused on the outskirts of the forest where a few logs were set up for campfires
long since unvisited. It was clear Ms Potts had intended for them to go to the seats on the
docks ahead.
But both women had halted their steps upon realizing they were not alone, that there were
two figures seated at the edge of the dock far ahead.

It was upon the silent realization of who those people were that both women needed to sit
down. Neither mother wanted to spy (ok, maybe Selena was more than a little tempted), but
they also knew that it was a miracle they had not been spotted yet.

Both their kids were gifted if noticing such shifts in environments, but they must've been so
lost in their own conversation to care.

The women noted their interlocked hands, the way they snuggled close. And under the
heavenly light of the moon and the glistening brilliance of fireflies beyond, they caught sight
of a few smiles, laughs, and the way they looked at one another...yes, they'd needed to sit
down.

For all their earlier revelations, nothing compared to seeing such a phenomenon in person.
Neither woman knew how those two had found their way to one another, how with such a
divide between their families they'd taken the leap for something unexpected.

Pepper's silent tears were of joy. Joy that the young girl she'd met in this very compound
months ago, one who'd seemed broken and lonely, no longer was. Words could not even
begin to describe such happiness, could only be compared to the elation she'd felt when Jon
and Yelena were revealed to be a pair.

Selina's own tears were a mixture of hormones and pure relief.

She'd always feared Damian would choose to go through life alone, that he'd never let anyone
into his heart and mind just as Ra's and Talia had wished. She'd feared those teachings had
stuck, that Damian would never be able to find it in himself to try and expand out of his own
thoughts and beliefs.

Selina hated being wrong, but she'd never been more glad to not be right.

Their emotions only skyrocketed when they beheld both teens gazing up at the stars, pointing
out constellations hand in hand. As Damian leaned down and kissed Brook's brow in an act
of intimacy that was so innocent, yet could not be a more clear sign of pure and raw
affection.

Seconds or minutes must've passed before Selina guided Pepper out of their spot and back
towards the compound. She may be pregnant, but she was also Catwoman. She knew how to
be silent when she needed to, was even more confident in their escape when she realized
Damian's complete attention and senses were on Brooklyn and her only.

Once they'd made it about half-way back, it was Selina that spoke up first. A plan already
forming in her mind.

"Just as my husband and your fiancee have formed an alliance, it seems we must too, but for
something they'd never agree to" she whispered, "We have to protect our children from them
when it comes to this"
Pepper, who had already reasoned Tony would never allow such a relationship to stand,
nodded in agreement. Slowing her pace, Pepper played with the straps of her silk robe to add,
"Whatever this is, our children should figure it out for themselves without their fathers' bias"

"Agreed" Selina replied, trying and failing to stop the thousand wheels in her mind from
spinning and working full speed. Because she'd assumed, hypothesized, even seen signs of
those two being more than just enemies.

But...shit, this was real. It was happening.

She'd just begun gaining Damian's trust and affection. Selina refused to fail as a mother,
as his mother.

Trying to keep focused, she asked, "Anyone else knows of this?"

Pepper hummed, "Yes. Natasha Romanoff found them at the dance, and Steve Rogers caught
wind of this in Wakanda when your son came to my daughter's aid during the battle. Clint
Barton was told as well, mostly because his wife saw our children interact when they took
refuge in her home. All of them are sworn to secrecy, they won't tell anyone. You?"

Selina was stumped for a second, because Damian had never mentioned something
happening in Wakanda during his educational visit. Then again, when did Damain even tell
them anything?

But Selina pondered on the question at hand. She was certain no one she knew was aware,
though she was willing to wager that if anyone knew, it would be Jon Kent. But that boy was
fiercely loyal to Damian, he'd been that way since they were boys.

If Jon knew, then there was no need to worry.

"Perhaps just Jon Kent, but seeing as he's dating your other daughter, I doubt he'd chance
stirring up trouble between families he values"

The two had reached the bright silhouette of the Avengers compound, stumbling upon its path
by the time their words were said. When they knew that in a few more steps, there was no
guarantee their words would not be overheard.

So Pepper guided them to the small parking lot with lined up golf carts that could take Selina
back safely to the residential area she was currently staying, and was no doubt missed at.

It was after a guard had volunteered for the task that Pepper realized both women had only
agreed not to say a word about this. They hadn't discussed anything else.

Perhaps that was best, getting involved in their children's lives might be a little much (even if
Pepper had let Nat rope her into such a thing already when Damian was sneakily guided to
the Stark Industries building to spend time with Brook that one time).

Who knew when they would get a chance to talk alone again? Both women knew that
possibility was next to nothing.
 So keeping in mind the guard coming towards them, Ms Potts said, "If you ever need
anything in regards to your child, you may come visit me at the Stark Industries building
under the guise of CEO advice"

To others, it might seem Pepper was referring to the unborn child Selina carried, but they
both knew she spoke of Damian in those clever words. Pepper hoped Selina would see it for
what it was, an approval of her son in regards to being with her daughter.

Selina Wayne's next words were confirmation of that and more.

"I extend the same courtesy to you, Ms Potts" Selina said with a handshake, silent approval
of Brooklyn radiating in the woman's chocolate brown eyes.

Upon the arrival of the security guard and the sight of the golf cart well towards its
destination, Pepper returned to bed where her fiancee was already fast asleep, mumbling
incoherences as he often did when he was upset by something.

No doubt caused by today's meeting with the Justice League in the name of peace.

Perhaps tomorrow Pepper could find some way to buy the kids time, a chance to stay by one
another's sides without fearing intervention as they had been today down at the docks. She
couldn't even find it in herself to be mad her daughter had snuck off, that she wasn't in bed.

She wanted to give her daughter those chances at peace with a boy she clearly treasured.

Perhaps another lunch reserved for the teens would do? Or maybe, she could do something
even better...

Chapter End Notes

Hello everyone! It feels so good to be back at last!

I've missed writing, but more than that, I've missed this story and this world greatly. As
some of you may know, school and changes to the fanfic have kept me busy in this long
absence, but I'm hoping that with my masters program cooling down, updates might
come a lot quicker than before.

That being said, I apologize for taking so long to update. A lot of you messaged me
recently asking when I'd be back, and I felt so bad for not having an update ready for
you guys. But you've all been so kind and patient with your words, I'm so thankful for
you all.

That being said, the next chapters are already in the works (and things from this chapter
will have many callbacks and purpose for what's to come). We'll be taking a trip to 50s
styled Midtown High, and let's just say the school dance will have more than one
surprise.

The next chapter is the last of what I'm referring to as the 'Post-Joker Compound Arc',
and I intend it to go out with a bang (not literally don't worry, it's just good things that
hopefully make you smile and laugh). As always, I hope you enjoy what's to come, I
love reading your comments, so please leave your reactions for me to read if you can.
Thank you for reading!
 Welcome To The 50s
Chapter Notes

Hello everyone, it's great to be back! I know an update has been a long time coming, but
I hope that a three chapter release (plus 4 more in the final stages of editing coming
soon) makes up for it, especially since there will be some very interesting scenes that
I’ve been dying to share for a long time.

Before we proceed, I’d like to explain in case some of you are not aware, that I’ve been
busy with revisions of all the chapters of this story since the beginning. I feel like I’ve
barely made a dent, but I’m already through chapter 49 in the first book. These changes
aren't anything major like rewriting the story, just spell checks, embellishments, and
formatting for a more enjoyable reading experience. That being said, I’ve also added
quite a few bonus scenes and perfected my early writing.

If you’re ever bored with no fan fiction to read, you could re-visit the updated chapters
until the wee hours of the night. Sleep is precious, but we all read till midnight so I’m
not about to judge you for it.

Hopefully between updating old chapters and writing new ones I can bond with more of
you again. I love reading all your comments, even if I’m not able to answer them all,
know that I cherish your thoughts. Last I checked Book One was at 12384 hits, not to
mention the 20.9k views on the story’s first platform. It's insane how loved this silly
little story of mine is, and I’ll continue to work hard to provide more content for you all.

That being said, think of this as a welcoming chapter, something to catch your breath
with before the true chaos begins. But this wouldn't be something written by me if it
didn't have a few bombs dropped along the way, so I hope you enjoy that too.

Brooklyn POV-

What could’ve been a disastrous weekend, a war between Waynes and Starks amidst a
conflict already spiraling out of control around the world, was prevented by the most unlikely
of individuals. The president himself had called the Avengers, demanding a meeting with
them about the safety of the country. An invitation extended to the Justice League, or so
Damian had told her after his discrete prying of Batman and Superman’s conversation amidst
a separated breakfast between family clans and their allies. Whatever qualms the individuals
of Congress had regarding the Sokovia Accords or the involvement of the Justice League’s
might, no longer seemed to matter anymore.

The Joker had put everyone on edge after his public stunt, now that repairs were on their way,
the government as well as most civilians were itching to know how the heroes would
retaliate. How their protectors would answer the call against ‘the forces of evil’.

Because of that impromptu meeting and the public’s sudden and ardent support of its saviors,
there was no need to remain clustered in the Compound. If the Joker and his allies had any
retaliations planned, they’d lost their element of chaos to achieve them.

Dad had been annoyed by the summons for more than one reason. The first being that the
president’s instance to thank Brooklyn personally for his rescue were getting out of hand, but
mostly because no matter how much her otets tried to act indifferent about it for the sake of
his grudge against Grandpa Steve, he didn’t like only having the government’s favor when it
was convenient for them. It felt a lot like being on a leash, binds that in the hands of
politicians, had allowed this conflict with the Joker to get so out of hand in the first place…or
so Natasha had muttered under her breath during that breakfast that had everyone frowning at
their plate of fluffy pancakes.

Because all the Avengers had been called in for a change, it was only expected that dad
would be heavily against the idea of leaving not only his home, but also his family, in the
same confines as Waynes. Before the chance to kick them out could arise, Bruce Wayne had
shown up to the Avenger’s floor to announce they’d be leaving in an hour…and that they’d
see one another in D.C.

Brooklyn hadn’t even had a chance to try and say goodbye to Damian or Jon, and after the
scare they’d all suffered not long ago, the separation made her, as well as the others, a little
more frantic than usual. None of them could ask for an audience, not when Jon and Damian
were not supposed to be more than patrolling nuances to the young heroes of the group.
They’d only been soothed by the promise of seeing one another soon at school, which would
resume its classes in a few days.

The goodbyes amongst her family had been more emotional than usual because of the Joker’s
antics. Harley hadn’t let go of dad until the Avengers had five minutes to get to the Quinjet,
not that Brook and Yelena had been any better. Dad had embraced all three of his kids to
death along with mom, then pulled Peter into the comforting family embrace that could’ve
lasted hours. It had felt like a pact had been made amidst them, one in which they silently
swore none of them would be carried so close to the claws of death again. Sestra had
promised them daily updates if the meetings stretched out, as they probably would
considering the government was never in agreement with plans of attack. Brook might’ve
been occupied with her own goodbyes, but not enough to not notice Grandpa Steve’s
particular distaste at the unfolding events.

Secretly, Brooklyn hoped she gave those pathetic suits hell.

Once the Avengers’ Quinjet was nothing more than a speck of dust in the sky, it was time for
the second round of goodbyes. Not for the Waynes, they’d left earlier in the day without a
whispered word of thanks for the refuge. Not that anyone was expecting any after Bruce’s
statement. The second goodbye was actually from Brook, Yelena, and their friends. Peter,
Ned, Tanya, Harry, and MJ had their own homes to get back to…worried parents and
caretakers to soothe now that things had quieted down. Yelena and Brook wanted to go back
to their apartments to secretly help Queens rebuild as their alter egos.
Mom and Harley had been hesitant to let them go, understandably so considering what had
transpired. Whatever bubble of bliss and safety they’d tricked themselves into feeling lately
(even with the Waynes around) couldn’t last forever. Brook had told her mom as such, that as
heroes of Queens, it was their duty to make it back before school began. The only reason
mom had agreed to it was because she knew her girls and Pete were only a few doors away in
case of danger, and because she wanted to check on her parents.

There was a certain unease in everyone splitting up shortly after all the attacks. The world
beyond the Compound wasn’t burning anymore, but it was scared and perhaps more
defenseless than it had ever been. They might as well face it now.

Brook and the others had been taken back to Queens by Happy, and though the man was
often one for quick dismissals, he’d made everyone promise to call if they even sniffed a sign
of trouble arising. Had Brooklyn not understood what that unspoken fear felt like, she
might’ve mocked him for being so protective.

Lest to say that for those two days before school began, the members of the Dynasty —minus
Robin and Superboy who were stuck with their own repairs of Gotham and Metropolis— had
made it their mission to help as much as they could, whether it be by using super strength to
aid in repairs, or using their battle skill sets to prevent civilians from taking advantage of the
chaos.

Their aid towards one another came in the form of sleepovers amongst friends either at
Brook’s apartment or Yelena’s, seeing as they were deemed the safest. It was long hushed
conversations via walkie-talkie with a Wayne beyond the Hudson River.

Those private talks while their friends slept were mostly spent with recountings of their days
which for Damian were mostly keeping an eye on his pregnant mother during the day, and
patrols stopping thugs and leashing Arkham Asylum escapees by night. She even grew to
treasure the excited barks from Titus in both greeting and farewell, not that she’d make it
known of course. For Brook, it was avoiding paparazzi exposure during the daytime while
still making sure her presence could not be linked to Firestar’s return, as well as long nights
tracking down her own troubles to solve. It was calls at odd times of the night in which
neither had an emergency to report…but just needed to hear the other talking and breathing
after a nightly scare of their imaginations.

There was an indescribable sort of peace knowing there was a person that had your back
against the world. More than that, that peace carried on in knowing that loyalty was
something mutual. Amidst the chaos, Damian made the world make sense, and despite the
temporary distance, that feeling never faltered. That was probably the only reason Brook got
any decent sleep.

Both of their parents would call at times, reporting discord between the heroes and the
government's way of approaching things. Damian had even mentioned his ‘Aunt Diana’ had
shattered a table at some point with her bare fist. Likewise, Brook recounted her own gossip
of Uncle Steve having to step out a few times to take a breather so as to not damn the
consequences and just do what he thought was right.
Yelena and Brooklyn made it their mission to call Harley before bed, to spend an hour of
their afternoon soothing their mom and grandparents by recounting mundane tasks that were
probably not too comforting for civilians with little to no fighting experience.

In a way, those various webs of communication with friends and family were probably what
kept everyone sane, even if at times they felt a bit tedious when piled atop all the hero work
they had going on. In a way, Brooklyn was looking forward to the simplicity of school in the
hopes that it might calm what the Joker had shaken up. The day prior to their return, Brook,
Yelena, and Peter had even spent most of their post-patrol period helping Harley pick out a
few 50s themed outfits for the Sadie Hawkins week all of them had almost forgotten about.

That sunny morning blessed with clear skies, the Dynasty met outside of the apartment
complex, intent and perhaps almost desperate to make the return to their teenage domain as
one. They’d been separated before, but never again.

Though Brooklyn felt a bit ridiculous in her current outfit, that feeling immediately left her
system when those that lived outside of the apartment complex arrived. Aside from the
immense relief of having everyone back in one place, all of them gathered before the vacant
garage space behind their building, she couldn't help but find amusing that this two day
distance between them that oftentimes felt like centuries appeared to have been time sped
into the past rather than the future.

Damian was the first to greet her, and though she’d longed for the sight of those emerald
green eyes, her gaze couldn't help but focus on his retro look with a smile on her face…
bordering on a wicked grin. Though his noir dress pants were nothing different, the fact that
they were secured above his hips made all the difference. Brooklyn’s hands immediately
moved to settle on the exaggeratedly open collar of his striped polo shirt, trying and failing to
keep her eyes off his gelled back hairstyle that resembled the look Elvis Presley had on the
cover of the vinyl record they’d listened to a while back…down to the delicate raven-colored
wisp of hair curling atop his forehead.

She wasn’t laughing because he looked bad, on the contrary, this style suited him surprisingly
well. Her amusement stemmed from the fact that even dressed in another decade’s attire, he
was still very much put together. Looking every inch someone dressing above his years.

Unlike Damian, the other boys had chosen what Brook considered to be slightly more relaxed
attire. None of them looked as comfortable in the dress pants or polished shoes as the Wayne,
but they’d adapted their own character into the clothes, be it by choosing between shades of
reds, greens, or browns, or by adding extra embellishments to their otherwise similar outfits.
Jon had relaxed his own look with the addition of a cardigan-styled letterman of the school’s
green and gold. Ned and Peter opted for wool jackets of the liveliest shades of color they
could find that obscured the formality of their polo shirts.

Perhaps it was expected that Harry would deviate the most from the others while still keeping
on honest representation of the period. He’d likely scoffed at the dress pants and shoes,
opting for a loose leather jacket that matched his black jeans and sneakers. Then again, Tanya
was in hysterics at the sight of the toothpick in between Harry’s teeth which he’d painted the
colors of a cigarette after claiming it completed the look.
Even Brook, nestled at Damian’s side, found herself chuckling at their argument, especially
when Tanya was clad in some ancient rendition of a cheer outfit. At the first sight of Tanya,
Yelena had made a whispered comment in their mother tongue about Tanya looking like a
doll…not that they looked much different. But Tanya’s long voluminous green skirt, her
snow-colored sweater with a giant sown M in the middle, and shoes that looked to be made
for tap dancing rather than exercise, only accentuated the loose bow tied atop her ponytail.
Brook wondered if Tanya would even be able to cheer in that.

Tanya had insisted on adding artificial bangs to her brown locks, why…Brook still wasn’t
sure.

Historical accuracy?

Maybe Tanya had a little mercy left in her from the chaos of a few days ago, because neither
MJ, Yelena, or her, had been subjected to the change of their hair. Their entire outfits HAD
been mostly selected by Tanya though, but despite the oddity of them, the girls had silently
agreed that Tanya had put the effort to fit them to their individual preferences.

Brooklyn had tried to pretend like she hadn’t noticed Damian’s eyes had been keenly locked
onto her own attire as hers had been. She knew he’d never care what she wore as long as she
was comfortable, but something about his gaze felt more intense that morning, like it was
devouring her whole. She might’ve tried to run away from it, but she wasn’t entirely sure she
could run with her vermillion full skirt in the way, not with all the layers of petticoats
underneath.

To stifle the subtle chill of the morning, Brook had almost sighed in relief when she noticed a
slimming crewneck of the softest shade of gray amongst her purchases. Yelena actually wore
an identical one, only in sky-blue, paired with a green skirt that was also very much like her
own. It was by no means a big deal, but Brooklyn almost felt like it connected them both as
sisters even when that notion made little to no sense. She’d never been the sentimental type
after all.

Neither had removed the jewelry their parents had gifted them. That had been nonnegotiable,
the golden earrings and the Brooklyn Bridge necklace had both stayed on.

Where Yelena had assembled her blonde locks into a bun with precarious curls around her
face, Brooklyn had left her long auburn hair loose with curls at its ends and a thick black hair
band. Yet none of their carefully styled curls could match the loose waves emanating from
MJ like a cascade of small brown springs down her back. Peter may think he was being
subtle, but his gaze hadn’t moved away from MJ since she arrived. Though he wasn’t
outright gawking at her ensemble of rolled up high-waisted pants and matching orange
collared shirt, Brook figured that mentally he was more of a mess.

Looking at the cluster of assembled teenagers, Brooklyn couldn't help it, she reached into her
brown leather satchel (one of Tanya’s suggestions to make the outfit more genuine) and
retrieved her Polaroid camera, snapping a few photos while her friends were distracted
amongst themselves. Only Damian who stood next to her was witness to the captured
moments, and when she silently gestured for them to take one, he didn’t put up much of a
fight before the two were looking into the lens.
Unfortunately for Tanya, there was nothing they could do to make their transportation for
school any more historically accurate. Not that anyone cared, they’d all grown strangely
attached to the robin's egg blue CJ5 Jeep that Damian claimed was actually a model from the
1980s. Brooklyn might’ve hugged the battered car if others hadn’t been present, that's how
happy she was to be reunited with the jeep that looked ready to break down any second. It
had been with them for so many adventures, it was only right for the car to be considered part
of their group of misfits.

As a new addition, and perhaps more accurate for the 50s, was Yelena’s new motor bike
which her sister had been taking everywhere but patrols lately. Knowing their magnetism for
trouble, Brook just hoped the pain job lasted a few months, but there was no doubt dad’s gift
would be well loved and used.

After a short ride to school, the Jeep and motorcycle pulled into the parking lot side by side,
and though she was used to their arrival causing some kind of effect on the student body, this
time the students hanging out by their cars or walking to the front steps of the building
stopped completely at the sight. Brooklyn didn’t have the slightest clue why it seemed like
the earth stopped for a second as they passed by, why her classmates gawked and their eyes
widened as if they didn’t want to miss a second of the arrival of the oddest friend group at
school.

That morning, the attention was secondary to the sights outside the window of her
passenger’s seat. Much like them, the entire school had spared no effort to dress the part for
their 50s styled week. Everyone she could spot from the football team wore a retro letterman
jacket that was a twin to Jon’s, voluminous skirts painted the expanse of the school with its
vibrant shades, and there was probably more hair gel in this entire school than in the entirety
of Queens. Some of the teacher’s parking spots even had retro cars, which only Harry could
identify as Bel Airs, Thunderbirds, and Corvettes from the period.

In fact, the looming building they passed on their way in was decorated with posters of
‘upcoming screenings’ of movies from that time. The usual school buses parked nearby were
rounder than usual, and music of the period was blasting across the school. It looked as if
someone had transferred the heart and soul of the decade to their secondary home.

Yet no one paid the changes any mind, the awe it deserved, not as the Jeep and motorbike
parked side by side in their usual spots. The school seemed to hold their breath as Jon and
Yelena dismounted the bike and the others emerged from the car, books clutched to their
chests, square-like leather backpacks on their backs or satchels strapped to their sides.

The crowds of students parted sideways as they walked as one towards the main steps, and
because of that colossal attention, Brooklyn was well aware she should move away from
Damian’s side no matter how much her classmates would find it hard to believe said
closeness meant something. She should move to one end of their group, and he should go to
the other, two enemies only in the same circle of friends due to Jon and Yelena’s relationship.

But neither she nor Damian moved from their place in the middle of the group, they wouldn't
dare hold hands or look at one another, but that small distance between them was a risk worth
keeping. A wordless one their friends caught on to rather fast, not hesitating to offer their
services by making it seem normal. Peter engaged Brook in conversation by her side, and Jon
was discussing something about his attire with Damian in an effort to make it seem like their
distance was just a mere coincidence.

Brook hadn’t voiced it yet, but she was glad her friends knew about her relationship. They
now guarded her greatest secret, did their best to assist to keep it hidden, and that meant more
to her than she could ever voice.

For the entirety of that morning, Brook and the others had stuck together in the classes that
they shared, even Damian had joined during gym class, much to the astoundment of their
classmates. The two had been able to run laps silently side by side without any suspicious
gossip following them, in a way, the news revolving around her plane attack and Damian’s
survival during the collapsed hospital already had people too busy to notice any oddities. But
with so many eyes on them during all school hours, the most they could do is exchange a few
insults and sneak the occasional secretive and quick finger lock as they passed through the
masses in the hallways in opposite directions.

Unfortunately, wherever she went, whispers of her ‘heroic’ efforts to save the president
followed. She’d expected the novelty of it to die down as the day progressed, maybe once her
classmates realized the retro changes to the school were even more of an oddity. She’d had no
such luck. Too many strangers were eager to learn more, to befriend her in hopes of spotlight,
and some dropped not so subtle hints at wanting to be her date for the upcoming dance…
unaware she already had an arranged plan for that.

Rumor was that she was going with Harry as his date, which wasn’t entirely wrong, but it
was solely based on the fact that her friend hadn’t paraded a date yet. In fact, Harry hadn’t
even flirted with anyone since their return to school, choosing to stick to his friends’ sides as
much as he could, rather than the company of one of Midtown’s girls.

In that sense, it was almost a relief that all the whispers amongst the sea of students weren’t
just revolving around Brook, but also recounting Spider-man’s heroic efforts during the
aftermath of the initial attacks. Photos, videos, and stories had been circulating the city prior
to the start of school like wildfire, and Queens original hero had become an even bigger
beacon of pride. Granted, it was most amusing that Flash was one of the masked-heroes
greatest advocates, Peter had almost burst out laughing when their decathlon teammate had
initiated a chant in the hero's honor during lunch before the entire school.

Though Damian had rolled his eyes by her side while that occurred, even he had discreetly
congratulated Peter in his own way for his efforts, mostly by going into detail of what he’d
done right during the stop of a derailed train. By the Wayne’s standards, those clipped and
veiled words of approval were basically compliments. Peter seemed to know so, because he
beamed at the words despite the occasional baseless insult thrown in like spice to a soup that
didn’t fit the recipe.

They’d had a secret toast while the school gossiped about heroics around them. It was a toast
to Peter for holding the fort in Queens that day. For Yelena fighting off the mass of intruders
at the Compound. For Damian’s own effort to get as many people out of that crumbling
hospital. Jon’s selfless aid amidst the panic of rushing over to a friend. Brooklyn’s efforts to
save every life despite math being against her favor.
They toasted for Harry, Ned, Tanya, and MJ, not just for keeping it together the entire time,
but for every silent effort since the chaos to help their town get back on its feet. Tanya had
been the one to constantly feed them information these past few days on what places the
police reported help needed, despite the long hours their patrols had gone on for. Ned for
providing anonymous aid to get internet and phone lines back up, to keep hackers out of big
businesses amidst the chaos day and night. For MJ’s relentless research efforts to try and stop
this massive conflict in its entirety, and for Harry’s astronomical progress in espionage to
feed them details on Lex.

It probably looked a little silly, the raising of cartons of juice or bottles of water, all of them
dressed decades before their time. But they’d made it this far, worked hard these past two
days so that they may bask in the mundane bliss of a school dance. Against troubling odds,
they were all alive and well.

That was worth toasting about, even when no one around them knew it was the very Dynasty
they spoke of that sat amidst that secluded table, all in civilian disguises. In fact, when she
heard whispered words in the halls that Brooklyn Stark, as Iron-man’s daughter and recent
proclaimed hero, should join the Dynasty at some point…she’d almost laughed right then and
there in the hall with Peter and Jon by her side.

She supposed gossip was infinitely more amusing when one considered the irony of it all.

That's probably what got her through the day, the newfound clarity that nothing had changed
at all. As long as Brook had her friends, as long as they could continue to do their best to
make a change, not much else had to matter beyond that. Not the gossip. Not the dangers.
Not even the challenges.

Hours later as she lay in bed with books spread out across her bed and research in her hands,
it all seemed manageable. Even more so when the crackling of a walkie-talkie resonated
across the room. With a smile, Brooklyn reached for the device, and under the faint glow of
the star stickers on her ceiling, only she was witness to one of the reasons why it was all
worth it.

“My beloved nemesis,” said the familiar voice on the other end as a way of greeting.

After a whole hearted chuckle that chased away the exhaustion and worries, she found herself
whispering without an ounce of the hatred the words should’ve demanded, but rather the
softest tone she’d ever taken with anyone, “My esteemed rival,”

Just like that, the two enemies ended the day plotting attacks, ways to strengthen security,
even just sharing the thoughts of their day despite being cities away. Now more than ever,
they wanted to be cautious as before, but knew life was unexpected enough that risks of
many kinds should be taken for their sakes and that of the world. That was why they decided
right then and there that this upcoming dance would be different, that they’d gladly face it
together…and no matter the risks, they’d mask their unity under the mighty image that was
the future heirs of the world, united under one cause.

Their classmates wouldn't know what hit them, and neither would feel the least bit apologetic
about it.
Peter POV-

It was almost midnight when his aunt returned home with a chipper calling of his name, and
the sound of a coat and shoes finding their place by the door. It wasn’t unusual for May to
work the late shift, not when they needed the money and almost no one at the hospital wanted
such hours. In fact, it was odd when his aunt ended up coming home early.

Laying down on the couch, his focus entirely on a propped up mirror held in place by his
raised knees, Peter couldn’t move to greet her. It didn't take long for her to find him, to shift
those tired hazel eyes on the wound that was taking all of his focus.

May never shied from cursing before him, Ned often said it was a miracle the habit hadn’t
become his own after so many years, but even Pete could notice that such vulgar vocabulary
had increased these past few days. Coming home injured every other day probably didn’t
help, but oftentimes, May would just stitch up his already quickly healing injuries with little
fretting aside from a gentle scolding to be more careful during patrols.

Peter hadn’t had the heart to tell his aunt that villains and criminals were growing bolder after
the Joker’s worldwide antic, he figured he didn’t have to considering it was all over the news.
But the wounds were superficial most of the time, hardly anything was life threatening when
his body made quick work of fixing what had been broken. Yet something about the past few
days had May’s eyes widening in panic at each and every cut lingering on his body, even
when she was used to seeing much worse at the ER every day from people who didn’t have
the luxury of regenerative healing.

He wasn’t surprised when May took the needle into her now gloved hands, didn’t even jump
at the familiar feeling of cold antiseptic being spread around the wound across his abdomen.
As usual, he ignored the feeling of the first few stitches by recounting tales of his day. The
robberies he stopped mostly on the south side of the city, his excitement for the upcoming
school dance, and even how he was growing accustomed to the 50s theme going around the
halls of Midtown.

Only this time aunt May didn’t provide her two cents on any part of his tale. She didn’t react
with the usual excitement when he mentioned he and MJ had settled their dancing agreement
for the event, or that he was growing confident in his preparedness for the Academic
Decathlon.

When he finally glanced to the side where his aunt knelt before the couch, finishing up the
last of the stitches with practiced ease, Peter couldn't help but notice her eyes held more
concern than he’d seen in days. Sure, she’d grown a bit more strict since the Joker’s Day and
his involvement in it, but never had he seen his aunt resigned to such silence.

“May, something wrong?” he asked wearily.

Placing all the tools into a small bin he knew she’d take to disinfect later, her hands paused as
the curved needle made its way in, droplets of blood mixing with the water within. It was as
if its crimson swirls had something to say, because his aunt did not meet his eyes.
It wasn't until he placed a hand on her shoulder that May looked up, placing a warm hand
along the length of his face, rubbing soothing circles along his cheek bone.

“You must be so tired, Pete. You come home injured and I can’t even treat you until I make it
back. I don’t want to think how long you’ve been on this couch in pain…and I can’t help but
feel that with my being at work all day, that I’m not able to do a good job raising you”

Peter ignored the patched up skin across his abdomen —courtesy of a random cable satellite
point he’d stumbled into while swinging down to meet an enemy's attack— and leaned down
to be at eye level with her. Placing both hands atop her shoulders, Peter wasn’t sure how else
to soothe her or what to blame for her straying thoughts.

“In truth, I sometimes feel like I’m the one holding you back. You took me in when you were
young because there was no one else, and for a young adult…I fear you missed out on a lot of
things. You work so many hours just to keep us fed, with no time to take up a hobby or go on
a date once in a while,” Peter whispered, “Now that you know my secret, you can’t even live
a normal life”

There it was, the truth that had been consuming him for years, one he never would’ve voiced
had his aunt not tried to put blame onto herself. The truth was, even before he was bitten,
Peter had been a workload May had to deal with without even a manual of instructions to
lean upon, especially when it came to raising Spider-man. It ached him that things were like
this, that her youth had been cut short for his sake and her late adult years were slowly
consumed by it too.

He’d thought maybe Aunt May would be able to get a break once he went to college. The
money he made from SHIELD would still go into the rent for the apartment, but with his new
school bills he’d probably not be able to send much home. As one person, maybe May would
have extra to take up those activities she’d missed out on while filling in for two parents. At
least Peter had hoped so, because his aunt deserved all the love in the world, the best things
in life too.

May chuckled at his words, as if she found them ridiculous.

Gently moving her hands to caress his wind-swept brown locks even when her gaze was on
the blood along the gloves she’d used, the scattered top of his suit sagging against his waist,
the bandage atop his injury. Aunt May then whispered another secret thought in return, “You
know, I really didn’t like Tony Stark for a while, I thought he’d be a bad influence on you.
But he has done so much to constantly keep you safe. From giving us enough money to live
here to the quick working antiseptic his scientist made so I could heal your wounds. I owe
him so much for all that…”

Peter did too. Mr. Stark never missed a weekly call to make sure he was well. He was one of
the few people who didn't mind Peter’s long rants about scientific inquiries of theories
swirling in his mind. At his internship in the company, Mr. Stark had given him a good
position to start in, one he insisted would look great on college applications. As a hero,
whenever Pete fell short in training, Mr. Star was always there to fill in the gaps and skills he
was missing. Constantly adding updates to his suit, inviting him to long weekends at the
compound…Mr. Stark truly had gone above and beyond as a mentor.
As if guessing his thoughts, Aunt May explained, “I suppose I’m mostly grateful that he
treats you like his own son. In fact, Tony has joked to me about wanting to adopt you…and
though I think he assumes he’s joking, sometimes I feel like he’s being serious”

Peter froze.

Froze because he had no idea such conversations were spoken behind his back, because
May’s assumptions didn’t make any sense.

“May, he has three kids already. How could he ever see someone like me, an orphan, as his
son?”

She beamed, delicate eyes glistening like glass.

“I don't think people just decide when they want to be a parent for someone, it just happens.
Did you know he messages me every eight hours since you came back to Queens to make
sure you’re alright? He gave you enough income to afford a safer house than the first place
we lived in, even when you hadn’t agreed to become an Avenger yet,” she says, but Peter was
already shaking his head, confused and puzzled as to why this was even being brought up.
Why Aunt May deemed it important.

Peter could only sneak a glance down at his web shooters still strapped along his wrists, tools
Mr. Stark had helped him perfect even when they’d ended up staying till past midnight to
work out the specifics. Peter had fallen asleep at some point that day, and the next time he
woke, the teen had been laid on a nearby couch with a thick blanket atop him…and Mr.
Stark, he’d fallen asleep seated near the table where a machine was still printing out the final
design, as if the man had been inspecting it while Pete slept.

The sight of the dozen or so energy drinks they’d consumed laying scattered atop that very
table, the array of holographic screens with both his and Mr. Stark’s quick notes and ideas,
even the unusual lack of music in the lab that must’ve been to let him sleep, it had warmed
his heart unlike anything else.

Even though he didn’t even consider himself lucky enough to be Mr. Stark’s apprentice,
much less someone of higher value to him, Peter had grown to see him as an irreplaceable
role model. He hadn’t dared to think of anything beyond that, because he was just a kid from
the poor side of Queens, orphaned at a young age, one who just so happened to have abilities
others didn’t. That was it.

Maybe he’d get to be a full fledged Avenger some day, a man who’d work at Stark industries
to fulfill his dream or make a difference with a biophysics major without the mask on. He
already had a date with a girl who was most certainly way out of his league, and somehow,
MJ might even be into him. He had a group of fantastic friends he hoped to continue working
with till they retired. He had a lot more than he’d started with…except for his parents.

May didn’t often speak of them, didn’t want to bring up that encompassing sadness into their
humble life.

So why now?
At his silent question, she added into the quiet living room, “Tony even helps you be the best
version of yourself by assisting you with all this hero stuff I can’t even wrap my head around!
He doesn't just care about you because you're Spider-man, he cares about your future beyond
that. That's what a father does, and I know it's what your own dad would’ve done”

Peter couldn’t say his aunt was wrong, but somehow he couldn't get past the hints of May
belittling all she’d done for him. That simply wasn’t right. He needed to know if it was
something someone had said, if it was something Peter himself had done to make aunt May
ponder all of this out loud.

“You've done an amazing job, May. From day one, you’ve made sure I had a smile on my
face and food in my belly. So why the sudden doubts?” Peter stuttered, leaning forward to
embrace her as best as his injury would allow.

With his head against her abdomen, the rest of him sprawled on the rug as she combed
through the knots on his hair, May didn’t say a thing until the panic he’d felt lessened, until
his heartbeat visibly slowed.

“The doubts have always been there, but it wasn’t until all this happened with the Joker’s big
schemes and Mr. Stark all but begged me to send you his way afterwards, that I realized he’s
more than just a father figure to you and you're more than just an intern for him. That
magnitude of care…I remember that's what family felt like, what having parents was,” May
said, “Even the friendship and trust you have with Brook and Yelena feels like watching
siblings who’ve been together all their lives”

Peter hadn’t been aware a conversation like that had taken place, wasn’t even aware Mr.
Stark would find it in himself to beg to ensure Pete’s safety. He hadn’t realized how strongly
he’d interwoven the Starks into his life, to the point that he couldn’t imagine a life without
them around.

Before Peter could argue that she had just as much value to him, May silenced him with a
gentle pat against his forehead. Voice perhaps lighter than before, she intervened, “Don’t get
me wrong, I'm not mad or upset…more so relieved that you can experience what it's like to
be around a full family”

It was nice to go to family nights, to fight alongside Brook and Yelena, even to run into
Harley in the halls or turn to Ms. Potts for advice…and yes, maybe they’d all showed him
unimaginable kindness for what felt like a lifetime. But why would May insist so strongly
that he had a place amongst them? There was only one logical answer to that, and Peter felt
his stomach sink at that realization, to the point that the dull ache of his wound vanished
entirely.

“Do you want me to move out? Is that it? Because I can understand if my escapades as
Spider-man are becoming too much for you, I can try to be better. Or if you really just want a
place of your own, I could maybe ask if I can take up my room at the Compound full time…”
he stuttered out, almost rising from his comfortable position, no doubt to keep pacing in an
effort to stifle the hurt and the tears.
Aunt May didn’t give him the chance to do so. She kept him where he was, a worried smile
looming above him.

“Of course that's not what I meant, Peter! I want you here. I’ll always be your aunt, but it's
nice to know it isn’t just the two of us against the world anymore. I’m just glad that with all
that's happening recently, that you have people who care about you unconditionally and have
the ability to help you with everything you need. It feels like for the first time since we lost
your parents, that something good came into our lives,” glancing at the room around them
with warmth and joy more characteristic of his aunt, she added, “I guess what I'm trying to
say is that with all the good you do for the world, you deserve every good it can provide.
Including the family you were robbed of”

Peter didn’t remember his parents’ voices, only had still photos to remember them by…that,
and a recent discovery.

“Since we’re finally talking about them, did you know mom and dad worked for SHIELD?”

The hand amidst his tresses stilled.

“I knew they did secretive research, just not with what branch of the government. But if you
wanted to know more, I'm sure Mr. Stark would be the one more equipped to help”

Peter had only told Brook about it, the mystery surrounding his parents that neither of them
had the clearance for. He wasn’t sure if Mr. Stark knew, if that was the true reason for paving
the way for Peter’s admittance in SHIELD’s program. As May had said, he knew with every
ounce in his bones that Mr. Stark would help him regardless, handing over the files as easily
as he’d almost handed over the deed to the entire Lego company that one time Peter had
mentioned liking the interactive building sets. Pete had refused the extravagant gift, of
course, no matter how tempted he’d been to own every single lego known to man.

“Don’t you want to know, May? My dad was your brother, what if his death wasn't an
accident? Aren't you curious?” Peter found himself asking. Wondering.

His beautiful aunt sighed, a tired sound of a woman who worked too much.

“Since we’re cutting the bullshit tonight, I’ll be honest. My answer is no, and it's not because
I don’t care about my brother —I loved him more than anything— but rather because what's
done is done,” May said, fingers resuming their gentle caresses along the curls of his hair,
“Pete…sometimes it's healthier to look to the future rather than linger in the past. Knowing
the whys and hows, holding onto that pain, it won't do you any good”

He knew she was right. He’d seen the good it could do to let go of a painful past, to become
someone better that wasn’t weighed down by those experiences. Yelena, Brooklyn, and
Damian were proof of that. Maybe what he’d find on his parents would indeed be a gruesome
tale, maybe he’d feel betrayed by the secrets they’d kept even when he had plenty of his own
now. It could’ve all just been an accident, no foul play, only a misfortune.

Peter wasn't sure which would hurt more.

But what would that do? May was right that it wouldn’t change a thing, he understood that
with aching clarity. Neither Peter Parker or Spider-man could bring back the dead, but by
focusing on the now and the future, they could save others from such painful wounds. Aunt
May had been doing it for years, and it was in that moment that he realized perhaps her
commitment to the hospital and its patients went beyond her work ethic. Maybe it was a way
to stifle the only piece of grief she’d allow in.

Feeling lighter than he had in days, knowing those locked away files in SHIELD records
didn’t need to be opened by him...it did nothing to lessen his love for parents he’d lost. But
he hoped they were proud, that somewhere out there they knew he was working hard to make
sure the world was safe as they had likely guarded it themselves.

“Its kinda crazy that I'm working in that same place as them, following in their footsteps
without meaning to,”

May tapped his nose twice with a delicate finger, “The world can be like that at times, but
there is immeasurable beauty amidst the unimaginable”

There was a majesty in the impossible to explain. Members of his team had taught him that.
For instance, Damian and Brooklyn shouldn’t have ended together at all…yet they’d gone
beyond the bounds of who they were supposed to be.

Yelena had once said that she thought the world was black and white for most of her life, that
everything could be compartmentalized and predictable, but Peter had always known color
existed. Those two had proven to be the opposite of what Yelena perceived as the entirety of
the world, they were specks of color amidst it all. Glowing dots of vibrant red that flickered
in sync like stars, something unimaginably special. Much like stars, they reached a point
where they exploded and turned into supernovas, when they glowed the brightest and burned
the hottest. For those two, that moment had to be when they met one another. For Peter…he
had thought it to be the day he got his powers, but in reality that turning point had to be now.
It was admirable, what one could do if they pushed away the darkness of the past and
embraced an unlikely future.

It was realizing he wasn’t just some amateur trying to do the right thing, an orphan who lived
with his aunt, a kid who was bullied at school for not fitting in. Peter had somehow become
something more these past few months, he wasn’t just this star of dust and gas any longer,
and that was probably why aunt May had made her sentiments known, why she wasn’t afraid
of the change the future held.

So maybe May was right, maybe good things did come out of the unexpected, but some part
of him couldn't see a poor boy who could be awkward and unsociable without a mask, as
someone of the caliber of the Starks. He didn’t know if Mr Stark truly cared that deeply about
him, was even less certain that Brook, Yelena, and Harley would welcome him to their family
as easily as May thinks they would if that were ever the case.

Though his aunt would never seize to be his aunt, a part of him dared to wonder what that
kind of future would be…to become one of Mr. Stark and Pepper’s kids. Staring up at the
ceiling, he wondered if he too would have report cards and tests pinned on the fridge…well,
he already did. He pondered If he’d get presents from a big happy family during the
holidays…which he already had. Pictures of him already hung in the Avenger’s lounge along
with the other ‘kids’ of the group like prized trophies. A seat at the table was always reserved
for him. Favorite meals noted. Birthday saved in Mr. Stark’s calendar.

Holy shit. Was he really being treated like one of Mr. Stark’s kids all along?
 The Arrival of the Three Heirs
Chapter Notes

I know a lot of you miss the song specifications for each chapter, so here is me throwing
you a bone.

Way Down We Go by Kaleo. I highly recommend that song for the first part of this
chapter. I Only Have Eyes for You by the Flamingos for the second part (actually 50s
accurate). Both songs kept me company as I wrote this most interesting conflict I think
you’ll definitely enjoy.

Jon POV-

Despite having alien blood coursing through his veins, Jon wasn’t sure there was anything
more unbelievable than this. What had once been a simple school theater, had turned into an
entire different century just for tonight.

The massive room was decked with balloons, frills, and all manner of decorations of
turquoise, mint green, pale yellow, and various brown shades. Since he and Yelena had been
immersing themselves in 50s music lately, they both confidently knew the current songs
being played were centered around Jerry Lee Lewis, Bill Haley & His Comets, and of course,
the King of Rock & Roll himself.

He couldn’t wait to ask his girlfriend to dance, she was quite gifted in the art, but this would
probably be the first time he’d get to do it in public. It was euphoric, knowing that things had
the potential to work out in the end…that they lived in a world, where despite all the chaos
and monstrosities, there was enough luck that a half alien and an ex-assassin could have a
shot at being happy.

Though Mr. Stark had given him permission to date Yelena, Jon thought it was only polite to
call and see if he had permission to take her to the dance. He knew from Brook that her dad
was currently busy saving the world and all that, but he’d rather interrupt during a meeting
than be deemed a mannerless teenager. His parents would be very disappointed in him if that
were the case, most of all his grandma.

Surprisingly, when Yelena’s phone got through, Mr. Stark had answered immediately.
Damian might tease him for his weariness to do things despite having ‘all the power in the
world’, but in that moment his palms had gotten sweaty and the room had spun a bit as he
sputtered out the request with as much politeness as his nerves allowed.

That day, Yelena had been seated on the couch next to him, breaking and sowing a new pair
of ballet shoes with a smile on her face. She’d insisted his request was silly, perhaps even an
invitation for disaster, but Jon had wanted to make a good impression! This was Iron Man he
was dealing with after all!

Thankfully, though not sounding too happy at the prospect of it, the hero had allowed Jon to
escort his daughter under a few conditions and mild threats. The first condition being that he
bring her home before 10 pm, which would be an easy feat even if they ran late considering
he could fly. The second was to keep his hands on Lena’s hips and nowhere else…which may
or may not have bloomed a flush to his cheeks. It's not as if he’d had plans to be impolite like
that. The last condition had been a threat. If his daughter was harmed or hurt in any way, not
only would Jon suffer a dreadful fate from him…but he’d deploy Brooklyn to get Jon in the
man’s absence.

Jon doubted Brooklyn would ever hurt him, but when it came to her family and friends, he
knew she wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever it took to keep them safe. If he ever hurt Lena…
Jon might even accept whatever punishment was deemed necessary anyways. Seeing her
sorting through her new music discs earlier, Jon realized her smile was one he’d do almost
anything to see again.

To further reassure Mr. Iron Man, Jon had promised to do anything in his power (not the
literal skills he had of course) to ensure Yelena had the best time. Unbeknownst to him, the
other Avengers had heard his pleas and promises and had loudly expressed their agreement to
his request, which had warmed his ears in embarrassment.

Before he’d been able to hang up the call, the man asked Lena who her sister would be
attending with, something neither of them had foreseen as an issue. But his beautiful Lena
was smart and cunning, and she’d provided a partial truth to satisfy her dad’s curiosity
without giving away the big secret. Brook would be going with Harry Osborn, which is what
all of the people in attendance at the party at that moment were expecting.

Jon knew it wasn’t like Damian to be late, which likely meant their delayed arrival had to be
intentional. Likely Harry’s idea since neither his best friend nor Brooklyn cared much for
dramatics.

As the influx of students began pouring inside the room, he and the others had already
claimed a table for themselves. Jon watched happily as Peter sat beside MJ —sporting a
black and white tuxedo of the times— enamored as he listened intently to their curly-haired
friend as she ranted about the civil rights movements of the 50s as if she’d lived through it
herself. He couldn’t blame Pete for his transfiction with the unusual topic, when MJ spoke of
something, she made it sound interesting regardless of what it was. Or maybe it was due to
the same devotion he felt with Lena, because Jon had been listening to the untold specifics of
McCarthyism & Espionage of the 50s from his own date, stuff she claimed to have learned
about in her youth like a child would typical history.

More than the topic at hand, Jon had been transfixed by Lena’s sleeveless yellow swing
dress, which despite his knowing hid a small dagger amidst the frills of the bow at her waist,
it made her look like a delicate swan. He hadn’t said it of course, not when it sounded so silly
to compare a person to an animal. Jon had learned his fair share of flirting from the Flash (the
speedster and definitely not their classmate), but he’d also been grilled on manners by his
Pa’s family. Never in his life had it become so difficult yet so rewarding to dish out a
compliment to a girl.

Thankfully, he was spared from embarrassment when Ned ardently nudged his unmovable
shoulder. At first he’d assumed he and his date, Betty from the decathlon and school
newscast, needed further football statistics to predict the school’s success during nationals.
Turning around and noticing Ned’s nervous and terrified gaze, Jon couldn’t help but to stand,
ready to defend the table against any threat.

He’d been in the middle of shrugging off his leather jacket when his hands stopped dead at
the lapels. Subconsciously he felt Lena move to stand beside him, the rest of his friends rising
from the table to stand by his side as a massive group of students sauntered into the space. It
wasn’t the rest of his Midtown classmates that strolled in wearing elegant tuxedos and
modern dresses bedecked with real jewels and imported silk fabrics…but he knew who they
were.

They knew him too.

Seeing as their table was one of the first upon descending down the steps of the theater stage,
it was unfortunate that he was one of the first people the teenagers with frowns of disgust
spotted. The music lowered, the Midtown crowds gathered behind them, parallel to the stairs
where the other set of students halted their steps. One group was clad in another time, while
the other wore the best clothes this decade could offer. It was a sight Jon could’ve never
imagined.

Behind him, Tanya stepped over to his side, fisting the lapels of her own retro tux as she
whispered, “Who the hell let the bourgeoisie in? Is there a fancy event downtown we’re not
aware of?”

Jon subtly shook his head, not breaking eye contact from the small delegation of three that
crossed the invisible line between groups, headed straight towards him. He clutched Yelena’s
hand, well aware the joy and warmth across his face had vanished, that she as well as his
friends could tell something was amiss. She squeezed it in return, and though he never took
his gaze off the three teenage boys striding like they owned the place, fixing their silver
cufflinks, he could tell Yelena was getting ready for a fight.

It's not that Jon was expecting one, these teens were harmless, but the subtle gold pins on the
right side of their chest that both the girls and guys wore certainly labeled them as something
more powerful than they were used to in these halls. The pins had a clear crest divided into
four sections; one with a torch, the next with an open book, below a twin set of keys, and
lastly a checkered pattern of red and blue. In the middle of them all was a single letter, an
overly elegant and golden G.

At the very bottom of the crest were carved words in near scripture across a banner, one that
read; Historia, Viate, Magistra. History is the teacher of life. That's what the cold words
meant, which was a perfect representation of the title atop said crest which proudly read
Gotham Academy. These were the classmates of Jon’s past, somehow finding themselves in
his current school…and there was something seriously wrong with that.
The three boys whom Jon knew by name stopped a few feet from him, as if disgusted to get
too close. None of them had ever been mean to him, not when Damian was always by his
side since they started attending school at the ripe age of 10 going on 11. None of them had
dared to mess with a Wayne like that. But with his enhanced hearing, Jon had always heard
how his classmates spoke of him behind his back, thinking him no better than trash due to his
lack of wealth.

Nobody knew Jon had been so eager to transfer to this school not just because of the prospect
of a mission, but because he was sick and tired of being looked down upon for his lack of
money, for being seen as unworthy of hanging around the Wayne heir. Because at Gotham
Academy, everyone came from a wealthy background, that's where Gotham’s most prized
children roamed its gothic halls since pre-school up until they finished high school. All of the
Waynes had attended the academy, as was expected of Gotham’s royalty.

But Jon, he’d quickly been labeled as nothing more than the son of two reporters, as a
‘commoner’. Someone who might only be there to feed his parents exclusive stories of
Gotham’s wealthiest. That didn’t bother him much at first, not when he’d been adamant to
prove his worth with academics and sports, both of which had been overlooked by most.

Moving here had been a masked salvation, but the worry seeping into his chest wasn’t related
to himself, but rather Damian.

The teen in charge was the one who dared a step forward, looking at the polished ground as if
he was afraid of it staining his Italian shoes. Seeing as Ethan Cobblepot, one of the ten
children of the owner of the Iceberg Lounge —a man better known as The Penguin— was
considerably wealthy, Jon didn’t doubt the spoiled boy had already considered the possibility
of walking atop Midtown's students to spare his footwear.

Calming his nerves, remembering he was one of Queens’ protectors, Jon plastered on a smile
and greeted the blond-haired boy with the same honesty with which Lena had lied to her
father yesterday.

“Hey, man. It's great to see you again!”

Ethan, who was a good head shorter than Jon, tried to stand straighter to make up for the
height. His two lackeys behind him, Ben Elliot and Emile Crowne, straightened as well, their
jelled brown hair glistening under the light.

Ben was the son of Thomas Elliot —otherwise known as the villain Hush— but he was part
of one of the most notable families of Gotham like the Waynes, just with much less power
and significance. For that matter, Ethan and Emile were also descendants of one of the six
founding families of the city; the Waynes, the Cobblepots, the Elliots, the Crownes, the
Arkhams, and the Kanes. They could be considered dukes and lords of the city of crime,
whereas the Waynes were the long standing kings and queens.

Despite being sons of villains or exposed members of the Court of Owls, the teens still
carried themselves with the pride they must’ve been born with. Seeing as the elder members
of their families were all convicted murderers, they’d likely inherit all their family fortunes
by the time graduation rolled around…and they knew it.
Having grown used to hanging out with students who didn’t care about wealth or status, the
thought of seeing those three before him almost startled him.

“I suppose the sentiment is mutual, Kent,” Ethan muttered, speaking for everyone by the
looks of it. With Damian gone from the academy, he supposed it was only a matter of time till
Ethan tried to gain control of the school.

“What are you all doing here?” Jon dared to ask, trying to make it sound like he was curious
rather than dreadful.

“Gotham Academy suffered structural damage during the Joker’s attack. Seeing as we had a
formal dance planned, the school headmaster suggested we celebrate at the…institution
which our Damian Wayne saw fitting transferring to since his guidance and presence could
be soothing to us” Ethan explained, to which his heavier counterpart, Emile, added, “It seems
that the acclaimed school of technology is nothing more than a public school after all, what a
shame, isn’t it?”

Jon didn’t agree, not when his mind was too busy trying to figure out how to get a message
out to Damian in time. Jon being here was one thing, but if others saw Damian arriving with
Brooklyn to the dance, if they saw the NEW him…it could have consequences. Brooklyn was
revered in Gotham because of her wealth, but if Gotham was known for anything, it was her
chosen reclusiveness.

New York was New Jersey’s enemy, Batman clearly at odds with Iron Man, the Waynes at
war with the Starks. They probably wouldn’t treat her well, or Yelena for that matter, which
is why Jon took a subtle step forward, making sure his frame obscured Lena as best as
possible even if it meant attracting attention to himself.

There had been a nickname the students had liked to refer to Jon as, Damian’s shadow, and it
proved to still be of reference when Ben Elliot asked, “Speaking of this new domain, where is
Damian? Though I suppose it is rather unlikely for him to appear at events like these, they’ve
always been above him”

Jon caught the rise of whispers from the students behind him, students who finally seemed to
register what manner of kids had arrived at their school. When Jon refused to answer, the
three Gotham Academy delegates began to try and circle him, but Jon moved along with their
steps…as did Midtown and Gotham Academy until the line between the two was drawn in
the middle of the room, on the right end were the visitors, on the other the hosts.

Having his new friends behind him gave Jon a burst of strength and confidence he hadn’t
been expecting. That and the reminder that none of these kids knew Damian’s own father had
put theirs in prison once or twice. Ethan Cobblepot had no clue that despite not being allowed
into the Iceberg Lounge by Batman's orders, Damian had once gone in there himself to ruffle
the Penguin’s feathers to get answers for a case.

He knew things that could shatter their minds and had friends that could shatter their bones.

There was nothing to worry about save for how Damian would react at the sight. He
supposed that ‘logically’ Damian would distance himself from Brook and the others to avoid
confusion, to pretend to be the boy he’d once been. Or maybe he’d be happy to be amongst
those who revered in his presence. Either way, Damian would keep Gotham Academy in
place, resume the title of young ruler…he should’ve known Damian was anything but
predictable. He should’ve remembered that above being territorial, Damian was fiercely loyal
to those he deemed worthy of his trust.

Before Jon or Ethan could say a thing, the sound of echoing steps atop the stairs to the
groups’ right tore their gazes above where the theater spotlights were focused on three
silhouettes, bathing them in an ethereal light that hadn’t seemed as prominent when others
had stood below it.

Jon almost dared to sag in relief, that is until he remembered who stood on the other end of
the room. The imminent clash of two peoples in which Damian would have to stand between.
Yet, if any of the three heirs standing atop the steps were shocked to see another school
joining them, none of them made it known.

Brook was the first person that his attention snagged on, it was impossible not to. Standing in
the middle of the two, she was clad in a swing dress much like Lena’s, one that was tight at
the upper half of her body but wide and voluminous all the way down to just below her
knees. Somehow, the white fabric looked more expensive than any the Gothamite girls were
wearing, which Jon knew had meant to be a message for the Midtown students. Today,
wealth and appearances were weapons just as powerful as guns and katanas.

The delicate curls he knew had been styled by Tanya earlier in the day when the girls had
gathered at Lena’s apartment to get ready, shortened Brook’s auburn hair up to brush her
collarbone where looped strings of pearls hung delicately. Those he knew to be Damian’s, or
rather from the Wayne’s jewelry collection, because he’d helped his best friend secretly pick
them out to borrow.

Jon had been able to put a delicate corsage on Lena’s wrist, a simple yellow rose surrounded
by baby-breaths, but Damian knew he’d never get that luxury with Brook. Ever the genius,
Damian had woken him up the night before around four in the morning just so they could
sneak into the jewelry room at the Manor to steal something Brook could wear that could
replace that obvious tradition.

It was oddly romantic of him, but Jon had known better than to say that seeing as he was fond
of his head being attached to his body.

Jon also knew for a fact no one from Gotham Academy would recognize the jewelry, not
when Damian had purposefully chosen something with no embellishments to mark its
ownership. The silver bracelets in the place where that corsage would’ve been must’ve been
to hide her Stark watch, a weapon he was suddenly glad his friend had in case Gotham’s elite
decided to be unsavory.

She looked deadly, untouchable, an angel with devil-red painted lips.

To her left was Harry, who unlike Brook’s confident and tranquil expression, armed himself
with a flirtatious grin as he scanned the masses below with little interest. Jon and the other
boys had gathered at Peter’s before the dance, so he’d already seen the forest green tuxedo
his friend had picked out, but he hadn’t taken note of the golden cufflinks, the matching
chained necklaces hanging across the bit of bare chest he’d allowed to be seen beneath his
suit jacket. There would be no reason to doubt his wealth today, to mistake his place as one of
the world’s three wealthiest families.

His fingers were decorated with equally golden rings across various fingers as he ran them
across the swept back look of his chocolate brown hair, assembled to look lazy yet
presentable.

If Brooklyn was the image of delicately beautiful riches, Harry was the playboy seductress
who bathed in wealth. To Brook’s right, Damian might as well have been the embodiment of
old money, of cruel and ancient power.

Jon had tried to convince Damian to wear lighter colors today since the 50s were all about
that, a mission which he’d predictably failed at. But not in its entirety. Though Damian hadn’t
been willing to test the waters of bright violets or soothing blues, he’d managed to ditch the
comfort of the night’s color for an ash gray suit that contained darker embellishments for the
collared undershirt and shoes.

Harry had mocked Damian about the suit, not for the color choices, but rather because it was
perfectly tailored to show off his figure, which was perhaps more fit than any of them.
Damian had insisted on using his visible strength as another weapon, though Jon had
wondered if his friend had secretly wanted to impress Brook.

Unlike the other two heirs, Damian hadn’t bothered with multiple displays of jewelry to mark
his wealth, not when his own golden cufflinks with the Wayne family symbol and his father’s
ring were clear enough of who he was.

Aside from the fact that all of their suits were rather..high waisted where the trousers were
concerned, Damian had only allowed a neat swept back change to his hair to match the 50s
theme. Earlier in the day, Ned had discretely whispered to the others that he looked like
Pierce Brosnan’s James Bond when Damian had left to find a lint roller, which had sent them
all into a fit of chuckles of agreement.

Jon couldn’t explain it, and looking at his small cluster of friends he knew they felt it too, the
odd sense of pride at the sight of the three showing the school the side which they were most
mocked for during the school day. This was them saying to the school, to the world, that they
were a different breed amongst the masses, the embodiment of wealth and prestige which
could never be looked down on. It made them powerful, especially when they stood side by
side like that, just as Tanya and MJ had predicted would.

Each step was descended in sync, at a leisurely pace. To Jon’s surprise, Damian never made
an effort to step away from Brook and Harry, he stayed right by her side as those intense
emerald eyes of his didn’t even bother looking at ‘Gotham’s side’ of the room. There was
only the stunned sea of students at the bottom of the stairs, the faint traces of music, and the
clicking of Brook’s heels against each polished stone step that almost sounded like a clock
was ticking in anticipation.
Somewhere from the Academy’s gathered spectators, Jon heard someone whisper, “Who are
they?” sounding almost mystified.

It was Ethan Cobblepot that replied, his mouth almost reaching the floor, “That's the Osborn
Heir and the Stark Heiress…”

Jon smirked at the words, proud to see his friends brandishing their future masks for the sake
of unity. The light of the room provided a glow on the jewelry across Harry’s chest that
almost made it seem as if it the glistening came from him, making Brook’s auburn locks
appear like cascading wildfire, and feigning an effect on Damian’s bright eyes that shone like
the magic of the Green Lantern's ring…it made them look like gods.

By his side, Yelena squeezed Jon’s hand, and when he tore his gaze from the steps to behold
her, he noticed her own wicked grin and the pride reflecting in her green eyes as she stared
above. On his other side, Tanya reached a hand up to his shoulder, leaning against him with
gleeful satisfaction at the sight. Enough that when Raven finally joined them after her trip to
the restroom, as the two girls intertwined their arms without taking their gazes off the sight
before them, he could tell that even Raven was pleasantly smug by their silly power games.

Beside Lena, MJ and Peter smiled at their descending friends, with MJ shooting a middle
finger at Gotham’s side of the room without even averting her gaze. Because unlike those on
that side of the room, their three friends would use their monetary influence and power for a
good cause, tonight they’d wield it as a weapon in the name of friendship. Though Ned’s date
was gawking like all the others, he too looked a little drunk on pride as he and Pete secretly
high-fived.

It was to the Dynasty that the three moved towards when they descended the last step. Much
to the Gothamite’s dismay, Damian never broke away to address them or joined their
acclaimed section of the room. The Wayne heir stood with Midtown, with his friends, he
made it crystal clear where his allegiances lay by only sparing his old classmates a single
deadly glance.

None of them had ever treated Damian badly, which made Jon wonder if his friend had been
aware of the words spoken behind their backs. When Damian’s gaze turned to Jon and a
single and masked nod was shot his way, that was confirmation enough. He knew of the cruel
words, and his cold behavior was beyond the act he’d decided to play tonight. It was justice
for a friend, one long overdue.

Jon grinned at the subtle kindness, almost felt tears pool at the edges of his eyes which he
pushed back just in time for their friends to join them. The Dynasty together at last. None of
them bothered to address the newcomers or their classmates, instead choosing to move their
dysfunctional group that probably looked like pieces of a mismatched puzzle, over to their
table off to the side.

It wasn’t until they as well as their dates seated themselves at the round table that Brook
broke the spell by whispering with a devilish grin of her own, “Now that that's settled, what’s
next?”
On the other side of the table, it was Tanya who laughed the loudest, and it was her that stood
from her seat first, fixing the lapels of her tux before extending a hand to the girl with the
black dress seated beside her. With a gaze full of undiluted affection, Tanya gazed deep into
Raven’s eyes until she took said hand, then turned to the table and announced gleefully,
“Now, no matter whose in attendance, we make tonight our bitch. Remember, we’re here to
cause riots, to turn tables for a change! Let’s just go out there and leave our mark”, before
dragging her girlfriend to the still stunned dance floor.

When no one at the table disagreed, Jon extended his own hand towards Yelena, but it was
her who dragged him all the way to the dance floor under the colorful lights for a spin.
Beholding that sweet smile that had been repressed for the first years of her life, Jon couldn’t
help but think that he would indeed do anything to see that smile for many years to come.

Brooklyn POV-

When Harry invited Brook to the dance floor, they all quickly realized that despite that being
the logical move to make their performance complete…it couldn’t exactly be done. Not when
there were three of them meant to stick together.

Brooklyn figured that Damian wouldn’t want to dance anyways, it wasn’t his way, so perhaps
they could all intimidate the masses by simply observing them all night. It may come off as a
little stiff, but it would get the message of unity across.

Then Damian had refused the proposition. Actually. Refused.

Standing up and extending his hand, Damian had kept his mask of distaste and indifference in
place, but his gaze had been honed on the pearls he’d lent her as he said, “It is tradition to
dance at school events, an unavoidable duty. Therefore we must comply”

She tried not to let her surprise show, not when they’d walked into a room divided, one filled
with people of Damian’s past who no doubt expected him to act a certain way. Dancing with
her would send a message, but perhaps more than they’d been willing to risk tonight. But
Brook would be lying if she said that she hadn’t missed dancing with him…that seeing Lena
and Jon, Tanya and Raven, Mj and Peter, even Ned and Betty on the dance floor had created
an unexpected pang of jealousy in her.

It was wonderful to see them all having fun with their dates, especially seeing her sister so
happy and carefree. Not once had Yelena spared a thought to her surroundings, her gaze had
been locked on Jon the entire time they swayed side to side to compensate for his lack of
dancing practice.

All their hard work, secretive or not, had worn them all thin lately, and there was a certain
satisfaction in seeing her family being able to set it all aside for some well deserved
normality. Even if it was something Brooklyn couldn’t do, something she didn’t want to do
unless Damian was by her side through it all, it was lovely.
Having arrived only a few minutes ago, even Harley seemed to be having fun with his group
of friends and personal date. He looked so adorable in his brown tux, they’d told him as
much when he rushed towards their table asking why Brook was officially here with a Wayne
and Harry. They’d eased his nerves by explaining it was a tactical decision, then even more
so by providing reassurances from both his sisters and even Damian (whom her brother
didn’t seem so spooked of as before) that the newcomers weren’t an issue. The foreign
Academy could’ve easily had their dance at any expensive venue of their choosing in
Gotham. Yet they’d likely chosen this option not just because Damian was here, but rather
because any Gothamite would take the chance to get away from crime city if they could.
Meaning they wouldn’t cause too much trouble unless they wanted to be taken back home.

Half an hour later, it was nice to see her brother had been able to set his confusion and
worries aside. It was slightly flattering that he’d trusted his sisters to their scheming without
questioning it. He was currently spinning his date around gleefully across the dance floor
with a wide smile on his youthful face, Brook had almost considered going over and
convincing him leaving the dance early with his friends would be a bad idea. Going to the
arcade was seemingly innocent, Harley was a good kid, but going with a girl made it more
worrisome.

He’d also made her and Lena swear not to tell mom and dad, and the only reason Brook had
agreed was because he’d already kept a handful of secrets of her own. It was only fair. Plus
he was to spend the night at Yelena’s apartment, and if he didn’t arrive at the door at nine,
then both ex-assassins had already sworn to track him down and drag him in by the ear.

Maybe then they’d question the girl, make sure it wasn’t her influence….but that would make
them a lot like their dad, so maybe just for tonight, they’d cut Harley some slack. He was a
Stark too, and though he had no need to play the careful mind games of an heir, she had a
feeling his freedoms had been restricted as her own in a sense.

Besides, she and Lena hadn’t been entirely honest about their worry of Gotham Academy.
From what she and Damian had been able to exchange in assassin code earlier, it was clear
that Gothamites held little love for any Stark thanks to their loyalties to the Waynes. Harley’s
being gone earlier might be for the best, it might even be the right thing to do if a fight began.

But that begged the question, why was Damian so adamant on dancing with her tonight if
Gotham’s kids were around, currently watching their every move. She figured it might have
something to do with multiple of their classmates dropping by with an invitation to dance
with her after seeing her seated for so long. To be fair, Harry had received his fair share of
invitations despite being from past and brief girlfriends which he’d also declined.

Brooklyn knew she had to be level headed about every single one of her decisions tonight.
They’d thought there would be more room for leeway, but all their plans had changed when
the visitors arrived. Visitors that refused to intermingle with Midtown’s students, which is
why the room had metaphorically been divided in two, the silent animosity being enough to
keep everyone apart.

Yet despite all her tactical prowess, Brooklyn took Damian’s extended hand for one reason
and one reason only. Though no one had dared cross onto enemy territory, Damian had gotten
more than a few shouted offers to dance by the academy girls who batted their eyelashes his
way without shame. One had even blown him a kiss.

Maybe Damian had a silent point he wanted to make, but Brooklyn too had her own agenda.

Regardless, they were still here to make a statement…yet, she’d never leave her friend by
himself. That's why as soon as Brook effortlessly got to her feet, she extended her free hand
towards Harry and said, “Are you down to turn some heads tonight?”

Harry grinned like a mischievous feline, not hesitating to accept her hand despite the fact that
none of them had planned for this peculiar scenario. Despite it, they made it to the middle of
the dance floor, crowds parting at their wake, not a single soul daring to approach, not when
they made to stand in the invisible no man’s land between Midtown and Gotham Academy.

Before too much attention honed of them, Harry whispered so only she and Damian could
hear, “I’ll help keep it a secret, just tell me how”

Brook had no answer to that, and she didn’t know how, but they managed to pull off the
illusion that the three heirs of the world were sharing a dance floor. When in reality, it was
Brooklyn and Damian dancing together with Harry as the friend that helped mask it all.

Though none of them had ever been told how to dance with three individuals, she and
Damian were quick to work out a pattern of steps, ones which Harry learned to keep up with
thanks to his own aristocratic training. It was a dance that consisted of a series of well timed
spins around one another like planets around the sun, in which it looked like Brook was being
passed between the two dance partners, a brief waltz with each for which their hands never
made contact with the other.

In reality, every time she and Harry were paired, Harry would create the opening for Brook to
face away from him, chest to back, hands stretched out wide by their sides without actually
touching. In those moments Damian’s own circular rotations would meet with her own, and
thought it seemed like the Wayne was the spectator, to those with keen eyes, it was obvious
her own steps and responses were an answer to his own.

Damian was like the sun of this dance, the mighty star which she couldn’t help but gravitate
towards.

By the time the steps were steady and sure, when the pattern was solidified into a
subconscious dance, Brooklyn and Damian kept their gazes locked onto one another amidst a
change of partners, their palms parallel to one another above their heads without making
contact as they passed. In those brief seconds in which they could afford that direct eye
contact, where his larger form obscured her expressions and Harry’s own passing frame
behind them masked Damian’s, a silent and daring understanding passed between the two.

Those cold emerald eyes softened just for her, Brook’s own lips curving into a blinding smile,
and it was then and there that the two decided an already complex dance wasn’t difficult
enough for them. It wasn’t up to par with their skills. They weren’t seeing nearly enough of
one another as they wished.
As soon as their bodies parted in different directions, Brooklyn hid her true emotions, the
sheer joy of being able to dance with Damian in public without actually doing so. Catching
sight of their friends at the edge of Midtown’s side of the room, Brook noted their
mischievous smiles and silent surprise. They were likely the only ones that knew what was
actually going on, and even they had no clue what was about to occur…though she hoped
they enjoyed it as much as she would.

Just as she was supposed to start her sequence with Harry, Brooklyn spun to the side, the
voluminous skirts of her white dress fluttering around her. Just as she spun behind her friend,
Damian’s form briefly fell into step with her own as he passed by, a sequence of steps that
fell en par with the drum beats of the song. Even if it was just the subtle touch of his polished
shoes against her heels, the slightly closer nature of their bodies due to the nature of their
rotations…but in those fleeting and stolen seconds, she only had eyes for him.

Harry, to his credit, did his best not to react to the change. Since Brook and Damian could
easily lead the dance in a way that wasn’t complicated for him, their friend did his best to
make it seem as if he was the one that was mostly dancing with her.

The song itself was shorter than Brook would’ve wanted, but considering this wasn’t even
part of their original plan, her disappointment was only short lived. Once the three of them
came to a halt at the end of the song, all of them standing before a circle of their own making,
Brook couldn’t help but send Harry a subtle nod of thanks which she assumed most would
take as her being pleased for dancing with him and him only.

But it was when Damian shot Harry an even more subtle tilt of his head, she almost forgot
who she was supposed to pretend to be. That nod was not to be taken lightly, Harry knew
that, because even if he didn’t know the Wayne best it was obvious that gratitude was only
reserved for the most precious of moments and only for a handful of people. Visibly fighting
a grin of his own, Harry simply led the way back to the table, ignoring the crowds
surrounding them, clusters of people who had no idea what to make of what they just saw, not
at all minding they’d missed out on one of the few slow dances of the night.

With Damian leading the way, the three heirs returned back to their makeshift thrones.
Perhaps it was because of the intricacies of their dance, which Brook knew no one would be
able to match, that none of them were approached again with offers to join them at the dance
floor.

That is, save for their friends.

Before Harley left, he’d commissioned a dance with his sisters which both had gladly
obliged. From his place at the group table, Peter had even taken a video to send back to mom
and dad, something they’d all hoped would ease their nerves of two out of three children
going to a dance with actual dates (Brook with a secret one). Unlike the polished and elegant
steps from earlier, the three Stark children merely held hands and spun around to the merry
music after taking into account Harley’s lacking skills in the art of dance. Something the ex-
assassins might seek to reconcile at another time.

Their little brother was known for his intelligence, which extended to him not asking a single
question about Brook’s dancing arrangement. They spoke of light topics, things that probably
had no place when amidst a war with Cobalus. But tonight was a time of peace, and Brook
couldn’t recall a moment when the three had danced like this. It felt right.

When Peter moved towards them to get a closer angle for the video, Brook and Lena hadn’t
thought twice before dragging the spider boy into their circle of merriment, and the four of
them spun and spun amidst laughter and smiles despite the less than friendly looks they were
getting from Gotham’s acclaimed side. All those couples were dancing like sticks, stiff
emotionless movements focused more on perfection but without any emotion behind them. It
made her wonder if that's what she’d looked like while learning the art back in the Red
Room.

It was an unspoken relief knowing things had changed so drastically. Not just for her.

While in the midst of her dancing after Harley had excused himself for his after-party outing,
Brook snuck the occasional glance around the swaying bodies nearby. Ned and Betty were
swaying lazily to the song’s secondary beat, though most of their focus was on whatever
conversation had kept the two together for three songs, something about the rise and fall of
various animated characters.

Not too far from them were Tanya and Raven, who’d dragged MJ into a dance that could’ve
looked serene were it not for Tanya’s beaming smiles and fluttering skirts. The other two
were wearing gorgeous suits whose ties the cheerleader often took to steer them into
whatever steps she wanted. MJ may seem like her usual stoic self, but Brook caught sight of
that rare smile every now and again.

It was as flutters of colorful confetti fell all around them at the crescendo of the song that
Brook’s gaze shifted behind her where she came across a most unusual sight that had her
laughing uncontrollably.

By some miracle, Jon had dragged Damian over to dance with him. The barely taller
Kryptonian had an arm around Damian’s waist, the other would’ve been intertwined with his
hand were it not for the fact that the Wayne had retracted his appendages underneath the
sleeve of his tuxedo’s jacket to avoid the touch. Jon didn’t seem to mind, holding onto the
ends of the sleeve as if nothing was wrong while swaying his best friend around into a simple
dance.

Damian, despite his monumental patience, looked anything but pleased. In fact, hidden
behind his visible anger, she could almost see signs of a displeased pout at the situation. Not
far off was Harry still seated at the table, almost falling back on his chair every now and
again amidst his laughter.

Brooklyn almost begged Peter to turn his phone in their direction, but she wouldn’t risk her
parents thinking she had any interest in the Wayne’s presence tonight. Instead she committed
the silly moment to memory as the two teens spun around, one beaming like the sun, the
other glowering like an incoming storm. Amidst the rain of confetti falling around them as
Brook caught Damian’s eye, the best she could do was bite her lower lip to obscure her
laughter, especially when it looked like Damian’s body was limp with disinterest, willing
himself to be spun around much like a marionette.
He shot her a warning glare, one which she might’ve returned were it not for the softening of
the music and the sound of a microphone being tested at the stage. Everyone slowly came to
a halt, turning their attention to where their principal, clad in a brown suit, smiled down at
them all.

“Midtown, settle down,” the man said with a smile, “I’d like to start off by welcoming our
guests to this year’s Sadie Hawkins dance after the unfortunate events at their school. Despite
your involvement being last minute, I hope you can spare a few seconds to listen to the
results of this year’s King and Queen from Midtown High”

Brook’s brow raised, she and Yelena exchanging a puzzled look before glancing at Peter in
search for answers. No one had said anything about royalty before, of that she was sure.

Peter, already being used to their confusion of what must be mundane events and traditions,
explained, “In the email we got from school about the dance, there was a link in which the
students vote for a king and queen. It's not that big a deal, a glorified popularity contest with
bragging rights for the night. I think the winners have to share a dance too, thought I’m not
too sure”

How…interesting. Brooklyn hadn’t looked at the email, only skimming it for last minute
changes since she’d been so busy with patrols lately. For a second, Brook considered
ignoring this announcement and heading back to the table, leaving the royalty to their affairs,
that is until Peter’s ramblings kept going.

“Then again, you are arguably the most popular girl at school right now, Brook. What if you
won?”

Her blood chilled. Especially when she recalled Flash’s constant insistence that the two of
them would share a dance tonight. Peter said something about the royals being forced to do
so…and she wouldn’t put it past her classmate to go to such lengths after she’d sworn to keep
as far from him tonight as possible.

Frantically looking around the darkened room, Brook finally found Flash clad in a bright red
suit, his gaze already honed on her. Like he was waiting for something. Turning back around
to her group, Brooklyn did her best to mask her anger, deciding that if her name was called,
she’d outright refuse the ‘honor’ no matter who was meant to rule beside her. If it was Flash,
she’d do whatever it took to expose him for changing the results seeing as she was certain he
didn’t have the popularity to gain the title himself. She’d abdicate her imaginary throne with
gusto if that came to pass.

Principal Morita took out a simple envelope from his vest pocket, waving it around as the
crowds broke into excited cheers. At some point, Jon and Damian had joined them, and in
their eyes, as well as those of Lena and Peter indicated they too hadn’t prepared for this. In
the time it took Harry to rush over to them, Peter whispered, “Harry may win,”

Not a warning, but a fact.

“If he does, he’ll probably be the best case scenario,” Brook argued, pointing at the far off
corner where Flash and his buddies were already celebrating an unspoken victory.
Because everyone was so packed together, Brooklyn and Damian were able to mask the brief
intertwining of their hands, which felt infinitely more blissful after the teasing touches from
earlier where their fingertips didn’t dare meet. Their calloused hands remained obscured from
sight not just by the darkness of the room, but for additional safety, she hid them amidst the
ruffles of her dress.

Realizing Damian was glaring Flash’s way, that he too realize what kind of scheming had
gone on behind their backs while they been distracted keeping the city safe all these days, she
found herself leaning a bit closer to whisper, “I won’t let him get away with it”

Damian clutched her hand tighter, not daring to glance down her way as he muttered angrily,
“He better hope so, otherwise I’ll make him regret it”

Brook had no doubt he was serious in his claims, enough so that she might’ve felt bad for
Flash had he not been such a thorn at her side for a while.

At last, the principal quieted the crowds with exaggerated hand gestures, standing under the
intense spotlight, he took out a delicate card with results unseen to them. Yet, before he could
announce the results, clapping had already begun. Not from Flash and his friends, nor from
the crowds. The clapping came from behind the stage, through one of its side entrances.

It was terribly slow to the point of mocking. When the principal turned, all eyes followed his
line of sight as a most unexpected guest appeared. Though she’d silently worried Gotham
would cause problems tonight, she’d never expected those would be from anyone other than
the students.

Emerging from the shadows was a man she’d never formally met, but whose photos lay
within her study since he was bailed out of Arkham. Though she knew he was only human,
the Scarecrow looked anything but in that moment, more terrifying than the still photos she’d
analyzed. Dressed in tattered robes of dulled colors that looked to be falling apart, his face
was obscured by what she would’ve thought to be a tightly clasped potato sack were it not for
the gas mask qualities. She had no clue what lay within, not when a hood covered the top of
his head and the dark and cave-like pits of his eyes revealed nothing.

One of his hands was nothing more than a skeletal structure of elongated metal fingers,
something Damian had once mentioned had to do with an encounter with Batman long ago.
She had to remind herself that he was nothing but a common man underneath it all, that
Jonathan Crane, a psychology professor lay underneath the layers of disguise meant to
unnerve enemies.

And unnerved it did.

Gotham’s teenagers were the first to react as if by instinct alone. There was no doubt that
they recognized the villain far better than anyone in Midtown did, but for the first time during
the entirety of that night, the barriers between Gothamites and citizens of Queens were
discarded in favor of running away as one panicked mass. Flurries of students in elegant
tuxedos and retro outfits rushed past the still members of the Dynasty who remained in place
amidst the flickering lights and falling confetti.
They watched as the Scarecrow took the mic from the principal with that deformed metal
hand, then pushed the man off the stage with a simple shove that sent the envelope flying to
the floor along with the principal. Because of the petition to have no chaperones tonight, a
social experiment of sorts, that signified the fall of the first and only adult amongst them.
Though the group of heroes thought to go over and help, their movements were paused when
the Scarecrow’s company moved to his flanks. Individuals whose identities were obscured by
Joker masks.

Brook could only watch in trepidation as screaming continued all around them, as the sounds
of doors slamming signified they were likely trapped by design. Her hand never left
Damian’s as the criminal announced almost mockingly with a raspy voice that sounded like
nails on chalk, “No, no…no one can leave yet. You see, I come with a message from the
Joker, a greeting for Gotham’s privileged youth! It's a shame other kids had to be dragged
into this, but seeing as Queens has its own arsenal of…important students, we couldn’t pass
up this opportunity to speak to all of you!”

Beside her, Peter whispered, “What do we do? The Joker didn’t send him for Damian, at least
not the masked version of Damian”

Brooklyn glanced around, noting that every corner of the room, even on top of the stage
where the light fixtures were managed, and before every exit, figures appeared to corral them
all like animals in a pen. The students began screaming louder around them, and whatever
semblance of calm, the small hope everyone had been clinging to with hopes of escape, was
now gone.

Even if it weren’t for the fact that they’d be seen by all their classmates and Gotham’s elite,
there were too many guards to take on single handedly. The chuckles from the stage grew
louder, the microphone picking up the words the Scarecrow wanted them all to hear. The
truth behind this intrusion.

“Not to worry, we’ll just take you away for a little bit until your parents can pay a pretty
penny for your return. Say, how much do you think you’re worth? How much do you think
your parents will be willing to pay for your lives? Maybe most of you shouldn’t have left the
Batman’s sanctuary so carelessly…”

No one answered, no one dared to do anything more than line up at the furthest end of the
room, clutching onto one another as the scattered Dynasty blended between the masses.

“The Joker doesn’t need money, neither does Cobalus. This has to be for something else, to
unnerve the heroes seeing as you and I are here. Maybe it's for Gotham to fall into chaos, so
father is preoccupied dealing with the wealthy and their wrath rather than whatever is going
on,” Damian said, only daring to whisper the words in assassins code even when everyone
else around them was too focused on the stage to care about them.

She didn’t need to voice her own agreement, not when it was obvious this move was not
something that had been thought lightly at a point in the game when Cobalus and his allies
were winning the war.
Maybe it was because they knew Gotham villains didn’t play around with their objectives,
but Gotham Academy students began shoving Midtown’s own forward, offering them as bait
even when they knew their own fate was sealed. The chaos around them heightened. It
might’ve angered Brooklyn, she might’ve even gone back on her word to save all the
innocent just to see those spoiled brats suffer…but then the Scarecrow jumped down the
stage, coat fluttering behind him as he said into the mic with a voice far darker and menacing
than before, “Though school isn’t in session tonight, I’ll still gift you all a lesson. There is
nothing to fear but fear itself!”

“Shit,” Damian cursed, “We need to leave…now, before it's too late”

They might’ve all followed orders without question, but in a matter of seconds, the
Scarecrow’s lackeys threw down grenades towards the masses. Brooklyn had half a mind to
assemble the Dynasty to avoid those things going off until she realized they weren’t bombs at
all. Smoke was coming out of them, spreading far too quickly without a single spark.

She heard Damian curse, his hand leaving her own as the smoke reached them, the loss of
which startled her more than the smoke or the Scarecrow’s words. She might’ve tried to reach
for that hand again, but then Brooklyn’s mind began to feel funny. Well, funny in the sense
that it was experiencing too many things at once, enough for the hold on her Stark watch to
go limp, that was until her mind settled on one particular emotion. Fear. Suddenly the school
theater was gone, her friends disappearing from sight, and amidst the darkness and solitude
her heart began to pound to the point that it was the only thing she heard.

Brook felt her knees give out as she stared into the pitch black all around her, though there
was no enemy in sight, no reason for her body to shake and quiver…the fear was
overwhelming enough that she forgot where she’d been seconds prior or that people needed
her help.

Figures slowly took shape from the darkness fog, the figures of her friends, her family, all of
the Avengers. Whatever relief usually came at the sight of them wasn’t there, it didn’t have
time to overpower the fear as their bodies dropped. Brook was rooted in place, hands against
the cold floor to keep herself upright as she noticed all the blood…the injuries, the blank
stares of those she loved.

Brook might’ve been sobbing, screaming, she wasn’t sure. Crawling over to the first body,
she felt the familiar stickiness of blood clinging to her hands and dress as she cradled
Natasha’s head. There weren’t enough obscenities in the Russian language for her to shout
into the void, but she’d said as many as she could recount in an effort to get a rise out of her
sestra. Bloodied hand to her pulse point, Brooklyn’s fears were confirmed. Natasha wasn’t
just…dead, she’d been brutally murdered.

She should be studying the wounds, trying to figure out who’d done this, how they got away
with it. But all she could focus on, as if an invisible force was holding her head down towards
Natasha’s face, was the fact that her sestra was not coming back. It killed her, to not be able
to do a thing, only kneeling there until the body of the last of the Romanovs grew cold. Then,
amidst sobs and the feeling of her heart being stabbed a thousand times, she moved on to the
next body.
It was mom’s. That one Brook didn’t dare look at for too long, she couldn’t. Not when those
beautiful ginger locks were stained brown with dried blood, and the smile that always
appeared on her face when Brooklyn was near…it was gone. The body next to hers was
dad’s, as if he’d fought till his last breath to keep mom safe but now their loosely intertwined
hands were the only sign of that unwavering act of love.

It may have been her overwhelming panic, a twin to what she’d felt that day Damian was
presumed dead, but Brooklyn never stopped moving, frantically crawling over to each body
in hopes that someone made it out alive. Because it couldn’t be that she was the only one that
survived, she would’ve died right by their side, fought till her last breath.

Brooklyn couldn’t be alone, not again.

Each body she stumbled upon felt like a blow against her body, something that made
breathing or even raising her limbs more difficult as time went by. Scott Lang was dead, his
suit in shatters. Jon was dead, ripped vermillion cape covering most of his body… and Lena’s
own body was not too far away, frantically reaching for his but never quite getting there, not
when Harley’s body was secured underneath hers as if she’d tried to shield him from the
worst of it. The sight of her siblings like that, she almost wanted to lay there with them for
eternity.

Clint was dead, bow and arrows broken at his side. Tanya’s cheer outfit was stained with
dried blood. Even Titus was there, the beast she’d tried so hard to despise laying there with
its neck snapped. Brook had taken the time to lay him properly, screaming out into the void
as she righted his neck.

Though there were still so many bodies ahead, enough to make her dizzy…there was a body
not too far off, one that was mostly covered by a cloak of darkest black that almost blended
into her surroundings, or it would’ve were it not for the golden fabric underneath. She knew
it all too well, recognized the broken katanas laying nearby.

Brooklyn couldn’t crawl anymore, she had to drag her body with her own arms just to get to
Damian’s side. Unlike the other bodies she’d stumbled upon, she shook him, frantically
trying to get him to wake up. If there was anyone that could survive it all, it would be him…
he couldn't be gone.

Brook wanted to scream his name, but the words wouldn’t come. She placed her hands atop
any injuries she found, trying to stop the bleeding as she begged him to open his eyes. When
not a whispered breath came, she screamed till her jaw hurt, laying her head against his cold
chest…unable to keep going forward.

Everyone was dead, gone. It wasn’t vengeance that consumed her, only grief so strong that
whatever fire lay with her could've been snuffed out completely. That is until she heard
someone calling her name. Once. Twice. Urgently.

It was Damian’s voice, muffled as if it were underwater, but she’d still recognize it anywhere.

Looking down at his still body, Brook cupped his cheeks frantically, waiting for his mouth to
move. Only it never did, but she still heard him calling out her name. Then her body moved
on its own, an invisible force dragging her away from Damian. She tried to fight it, but her
body felt like it’d been bound by rope. She tried to scream, but her mouth wouldn’t move.

Then from one second to another, light blinded her eyes, and an influx of oxygen forcibly
poured itself into her lungs. Air that was somehow cleaner, helping the panic fade away.
Despite not being able to see a thing past the blinding lights above her, each breath helped her
remember where she was and what had happened.

She was at the school theater. There had been an attack from the Scarecrow.

Brushing off the blinding light, Brook twisted over to find she and Damian were laying down
behind one of the food tables. Damian wasn’t injured, much less dead, which almost brought
tears into her eyes. He quickly snuck glances around the table, but when his gaze honed on
her, it was full of concern.

Damian’s hand moved to caress her hair, a brief moment of comfort before he pointed at her
mouth…where a breathing mask of sorts covered her lips and nose. He made a silent motion
for her to take a breath, and only after she’d done so did he take off the mask and place it
onto his own face, breathing in and out like he’d been holding his breath for a painful while.

The gas. That's what had caused her to hallucinate.

Quickly scrambling over to peek over the edge of the table with Damian, Brooklyn witnessed
a horrifying sight. Students were sprawled all over the floor, some sobbing, others screaming
above the faint whispers of the music, but most had curled into themselves.

There is nothing to fear but fear itself.

Brooklyn and Damian hadn’t exactly had all the time in the world to discuss what the
Scarecrow was known for, but he’d briefly told her about a fear gas. It's what everyone else
must be experiencing. All those masked cowards must have a filtration system to keep the
gas at bay, because they were the only ones that remained standing, dutifully counting and
moving the students towards the rows between tables.

Up on the stage, the Scarecrow was barely visible beyond the clouds of swirling smoke that
became harder to see through thanks to the festive lights and confetti. But he was
undoubtedly up there, seated atop the podium…watching children be kidnapped.

Feeling a tap on her shoulder, Brook turned just in time for Damian to hand over the clear
mask, and after she’d gotten a few breaths in, she pointed at the chaos beyond. Even while
unable to speak, the two formulated a plan neither of them liked, but with so many guards
roaming around, limited clean oxygen on their part, and some exits left unguarded in favor of
getting bodies accounted for…the teens swiftly moved from table to table, searching for their
friends.

Brook found Lena and Jon laying next to Peter and Harry, all of them too affected by the gas
to realize what was going on. Brook and Damian took a quick opening, and with the aid of
the darkness and the gas, they were able to quickly drag the four bodies under a table. Seeing
her sister and friends sobbing and shaking was certainly better than how they'd been in her
fear induced nightmare, but it unsettled her nonetheless.

After replenishing their oxygen, the two had to move further out with greater stealth to find
the others. At times, they’d barely been able to hide behind a table to avoid being spotted,
and it was a while before they were able to find Tanya, Raven, MJ, and Ned.

They managed to drag the bodies back to their table after playing unconscious a few times,
both of them almost running out of clean oxygen before they managed to get everyone under
the cover of the table cloth. Even then, the Joker’s lackeys were getting too close for comfort,
ready to start snatching the bodies from their section of the room.

Though she and Damian hated leaving the others behind, they knew it would be impossible to
take more bodies with them. These many would already be a challenge as it was. It's why,
with a heavy heart, they dragged their team towards the nearest exit, being careful to open it
as silently as possible and only long enough to get the bodies out into the hallway so the gas
wouldn’t spread.

Both didn't dare to rest until they were far enough away down the dark hall, and even then,
they hadn’t been willing to risk easy exposure. They’d dragged the bodies to one of the
chemistry classrooms, made sure to lock the door, barricade it with two tables, then used the
last of their oxygen to turn on all the fume hoods to filter out any gas that might’ve sneaked
in.

When they were finally able to breathe without his mask, both she and Damian collapsed on
the floor before one another, coughing and heaving from the effort.

Amidst her labored and greedy breaths, Brook motioned to his mask and asked, “Where did
you get that from?”

Damian took out a small pouch from within his tuxedo jacket, one that had been left open to
reveal various loaded syringes, basic medical supplies, and a slot where that plastic mask
must’ve been folded.

“My father makes us carry these kits around in case of poisoning of any kind,” he explained,
“After dealing with idiots like the Scarecrow, the Joker, The Court, and Poison Ivy, we’ve all
been drilled on what to do in case of a situation like this. The mask itself was specially made
for these kinds of gasses”

Brooklyn would never dare thank the Batman, but after the fear she’d been subjected to,
maybe she’d take care not to snap at him next time she went in to work for her internship
hours as silent thanks for his useful paranoia.

She was so busy trying to even out her breaths, her ears focused on the whimpers and cries
from the friends they’d left closer to the hoods, which she almost didn’t catch as Damian
moved close enough that their foreheads touched. His hands ran along her temples as Brook
shifted one of her own to rest against his chest where his heart was graciously still beating.
Taking solace of every beat helped soothe her mind, the sight of those open emerald green
eyes so close to her own were probably a greater relief than Damian could ever know. He was
alive, all of them were…it had just been a bad dream.

“Are you alright, beloved?” he whispered, lips so close to her own she could almost feel the
way his lips moved.

“I am now,” she replied, glad he didn’t ask for specifics, probably because they still had two
hundred children to save. Damian didn’t have to voice it either, there was something in his
own eyes that let her know he may have inhaled a breath of that gas before his mask had
come on. He too was haunted by whatever he saw, but like her, he’d push through to do what
had to be done.

After allowing themselves no longer than five seconds to remain in that vulnerable state,
Brook and Damian moved over to check on the others. Brook clutched Yelena to her chest,
rocking her back and forth as she whimpered. She wiped the tears away, using her other hand
to hold on to Peter who looked more far gone than his sister.

Maybe it was Peter’s enhanced senses that made the effects worse for him, a viable theory
considering Damian couldn’t snap Jon out of his trace either. The kryptonian blindly clung to
Damian’s ironed shirt, whispering things neither ex-assassin could make out.

“Maybe we should call Batman since he probably knows Scarecrow best,” Brook suggested,
shifting one of her hands to run along Tanya’s cheek from where she lay sobbing to her other
side.

“I left my phone in your bag when we had to check them in,” Damian cursed.

Brook knew for a fact they wouldn’t be able to make it to the other end of the school without
being spotted. But even if that was unattainable, there was still a way to get word out about
what happened. Hastily removing one of her bracelets, Brook tapped the glowing screen of
her Stark watch, beyond relieved it still worked.

The only reason he finger paused on the emergency button that would alert the Avengers was
the fact that there was no way they’d be able to come in prepared. Damian had mentioned his
mask had been specifically made for a gas like the one they’d been exposed to, and since no
one in her family had dealt with Scarecrow before, they likely wouldn’t be able to combat the
gas as effectively. She’d be calling them over to get captured.

It was up to them to make sure that once help arrived, as many troublesome variables were
dealt with. The first of which was dealing with that gas. If the students woke up from the
horrors, it would be easier for the chaos to hinder the Scarecrow’s operations. That way they
wouldn’t have to drag everyone out from the theater room.

“You said your mask was specific to filter out this gas, which is why we were able to snap out
of the effects so quickly, right?”

Damian nodded as he gently dragged a shaking Ned closer towards the clean air.
“The Scarecrow wanted to destroy everything that Batman stood for, taking away his allies
and family, and then unmask him for the world to see him as just a man before he destroyed
Gotham and attacked the entire world itself with his hallucinogenic fear toxin. He got close
once, and when father barely managed to snap out of it, he decided to look into an antidote in
case we ever dealt with Scarecrow again,” Damian explained, “Tim and Barbara managed to
make the masks not just to keep the gas out, but to store a shot of antidote to help shorten the
recovery time in case we ever found ourselves in the middle of a fight while infected”

Laying atop Brook’s folded knees, Lena was muttering about eternal darkness…whispering
Ivan’s name. Atop Damian’s own lap, Jon shifted to cover his eyes, panic visible in his face
as his hands were quickly replaced by his arms. Damian did his best to pry them away
delicately, frowning at Jon’s increased whimpers.

“He probably thinks his powers are out of control,” Damian whispered, placing his own hand
atop Jon’s eyes to try and soothe their friend.

Brooklyn didn’t know why, but she grabbed one of her sister's fisted hands and stretched it
out to meet one of Jon’s. Maybe it would accomplish nothing, but she hoped that their
physical touch helped. Jon had been very good at chasing away Yelena’s past to the corners
of her mind, and in a way, she figured her sister helped keep that power of his in check.

She dared to ask, “How long will they be like this?”

“Hard to tell,” Damian explained, “I think this gas might be stronger than whatever the
Scarecrow used four years ago. Though some might come to sooner that others by the looks
of it”

Pointing at Raven’s sprawled form on the floor, Brook noticed her pale hand had moved on
its own to rest against Tanya’s back. Though she looked awake from her nightmares, the
violet-eyed girl looked too haunted to do much more than pull her girlfriend’s body against
her own lap, rocking a sobbing Tanya back and forth.

Minutes later, their gazes constantly moved to Jon and Peter, who unlike the others, didn’t
seem to be slowly coming back. They were still deep into whatever nightmare they’d been
shown, something Damian explained to be different for each person. Their personalized
worst fear. It explained a lot then, Brook couldn’t find it hard to believe losing everyone she
loved was the worst case scenario. More than going back to the Red Room. More than death
itself.

Thankfully, Lena, MJ, Ned, and Harry were slowly calming down. Lena and MJ were resting
by her sides, and though they weren’t sobbing anymore, it looked like they were barely
processing where they were and what they’d seen. Ned and Harry were the same, and when
she and Damian moved to stand to figure out the next phase of their plan, they were able to
leave Jon and Peter in the other’s stunned care after a few reassuring nods, helping them lean
against the wall closest to the influx of clean air.

Now, she and Damian stood before the teacher's desk, staring down at the mask made by his
family, one that signaled the small amount of antidote had been spent. Without an antidote,
they wouldn’t be able to clear the gas for the police and heroes to get in, and even if they
could find masks to sneak in unharmed, the gas would escape out the school…possibly out
into the city.

It was up to them to find a solution without leaving the school.

“Maybe we can call your family,” Brook realized suddenly. Pointing at her Stark watch, she
explained, “I have Alfred’s number!”

If Damian was surprised that she had his butler’s number as one of her emergency contacts
on her watch, he didn’t say anything. In truth, aside from trusting Alfred and genuinely
caring about his well being, the main reason he made it into the slot of five emergency
contacts on her watch was in case Damian was ever in danger.

Alfred was her only direct link to the Wayne Manor, and if something were to ever happen
where their normal modes of communication fell short, she would’ve trusted Alfred to not
question her need to speak with Damian. Not after everything he’d already unknowingly
done for them.

The two teens leaned in as the watch began to ring, a line to the butler’s personal phone of
which Damian assured her not many people were worthy of knowing.

When Alfred’s soothing English accent came on the line with a pleasant greeting, the sound
of something sizzling in the background, Brook almost felt her knees giving out under her in
relief.

“Hello, Miss Stark. I assume this is a call inquiring about the whereabouts of young Mr.
Wayne, whom I can only guess bailed out on the school dance in favor of patrolling around.
He probably just left for a few hours to fool his father, in which case I should start preparing
Damian’s usual dinner; two bagels, coffee, and bandages”

Brook knew this wasn't the time or place, but she couldn't help but smile at the words.
Damian shoved her shoulder lightly with his own, but spoke up to say, “No need for your
sarcasm, Pennyworth. I did attend the social engagement, and it's a good thing for everyone
that I’m here considering an old friend just paid us a visit”

The sound of a stove turning off could be heard in the distance.

“Was it the Joker?” the man asked, footsteps resonating and the sliding of a door as if the
man chose to walk outside for privacy.

“The Scarecrow,” Brook intervened, “He was sent to gather Gotham’s students, maybe even
some of Midtown’s kids considering quite a few come from decent families that can afford
sending their kids here. He’s gonna take them away, probably use them for more than just
exchanging cash”

Alfred was silent for a second, then said, “I can send the Batmobile to your location, Bruce
and some of the others are barely coming back from a mission and won't be able to make it
for a while”
Damian shook his head.

“We don’t want to escape,” he said, then after glancing back at their hurting friends, Damian
added hesitantly, “Is Drake there?”

When Alfred confirmed Damian’s brother was down at the Batcave, Brook and Damian
shared a quick glance. She knew he didn’t get along with that particular brother of his,
perhaps more so than the others. They had a long standing conflict, and from what she’d
heard, most of their interactions ended in squabbles or fights. Yet, Damian had pushed all that
aside for the sake of everyone in this school. He was willing to put his ego aside for the sake
of doing the right thing, even if it meant asking his brother for help.

For that alone, Brook intertwined her hand with Damian’s in silent support. She hoped it
conveyed the pride she felt, the understanding that this wasn’t something he normally did, but
a sacrifice he was willing to make for their friends and everyone else out in that theater.

No one was perhaps more shocked by it than Tim Drake himself, who answered hesitantly
after Alfred mentioned he had an urgent call from Damian minutes later. To his credit,
Damian kept his bitter tone at bay, any insults he was used to, as he explained the situation at
hand.

“We’re stuck in a chemistry classroom,“ Damian added, “Do you think we have enough here
to make more antidotes? If we can get rid of the toxin, fighting the enemy will be infinitely
easier”

Tim’s tired voice was also surprisingly kind with its tone as he replied, “Maybe. You got to a
fancy school, so it's likely you have more to work with there than you might in other places.
The simplest and most effective formula I can think of has to be in the form of a gas, might
take twenty minutes to make. Got that kind of time?”

It was Brooklyn that answered, “We don’t really have a choice, just tell us how to make it and
we’ll get it done”

Tim paused.

“Is that Brooklyn Stark on the line?”

“I go to this school too, you know,” Brook replied, knowing they didn’t have the luxury to
keep her out of the conversation when they were both needed to work faster on this antidote.
At least she’d tried to make it seem like the two teens were working together for the sake of
survival.

“Shit, ok. Um…then let's get started,” Tim said, thankfully keeping his aversions to her
presence at bay.

As they began gathering the supplies that they needed under Tim’s instruction, Brook snuck a
few glances at the other side of the room where her friends sat. Peter still looked the worst
out of all of them, pale, sickly, and haunted. Ned had only left Pete’s side when he noticed the
array of machines and chemicals across the large table, slowly walking over and asking if
they needed any help.

Neither she nor Damian could deny Ned’s genius, even if their friend still looked a little
shaken. It was Ned that was able to hack into the teacher’s computer, working alongside Tim
to send a private file with the specifics to avoid mistakes.

The Scarecrow’s mixture consisted of dopamine, yohimine, carbogen, 3-quinuclidinyl

benzilate, L-34-dihydroxyphenylalanine, and corticotropin. When mixed together, it could
stimulate a fearful response in both humans and animals. Or so Batman's database had
documented. The antidote would render most of those compounds useless, and though it was
perhaps the most aggressive approach to the problem, slightly dangerous to make, Tim had
feared the Scarecrow’s changes to the formula to make it stronger would render his previous
antidote short of success.

They worked in a creative fever until chemicals were boiling all around them, the smell of it
all near unbearable. None of them dared to crack open a window after the school’s security
breach, so they worked most of the dangerous chemicals under the fume hoods and moved
their friends over to another end of the room to rest and gather themselves.

They all looked better, even Peter and Jon were starting to come around by then. Yelena’s
delicate and hushed lyrics of songs they’d heard during tonight’s dance seemed to help the
two relax. It was a beautiful sound Brook hadn’t noticed amidst all the dilutions and titrations
she’d been doing, but once she caught wind of the singing…it helped her relax slightly as
well. Still, Brook had almost dropped a beaker when she noticed her sister was awake, still
shaking off the lingering fear, but otherwise alright.

The two had exchanged a simple nod of reassurance, but couldn't do much else as Brooklyn
began a rather time sensitive mixture with Damian.

Eventually, they got to a point during the process that only required waiting on their part, at
which it was clear to them all that the purpose for the call had been completed. Shrugging off
their lab coats and turning off the computer, the three teens let out sighs of relief, beholding
the mess around them…hoping it had all been worth it. Tim had promised to tell his father
what the situation was once he’d arrived.

Though he most certainly didn’t have to provide more aid than what he’d already done, Tim
had also promised to make a few batches of the antidote for the rescue mission. Small doses
that could be given to the victims. He must've thought that would be the end of that, but then
Damian leaned in closer to the watch on the table. He eyed it for a long while, mentally
debating something to himself.

It didn't look like it physically ached him to say it, but it clearly didn’t come naturally for
Damian to say, “Thank you for your help…Tim”

The line went silent, the sound of typing on a keyboard stopping entirely.

Brook wasn’t sure if Damian’s brother had ever been addressed by his first name until today.
It probably didn’t mean much to a normal person, the difference between a fist and last name.
But Brooklyn had learned that Damian had a tendency to stick to formalities with strangers
and people he didn't like, for his siblings it was mostly meant as a jab of their adopted status.
Calling Tim by his name may very well have been an extended olive branch, perhaps
something stronger and more meaningful than that considering their rocky history.

It made her smile, especially when Tim’s soft voice replied with careful care and perhaps a
bit of disbelief, “No problem, baby bat. I’ll notify the others and make sure we’re equipped to
attack once the gas is gone. We’ll all be there soon…so good luck until then”

The line went dead, and while Ned busied himself with checking on the chemicals inside the
fume hood, Brooklyn placed a hand atop Damian’s chest. He’d shrugged off his outer attire
long ago, leaving him only in his gray shirt with its sleeves rolled up his arms. Without the
layers, she could see the two small hilts of his katanas strapped along his sides, weapons
they’d probably have to make use of soon.

“I’d congratulate you for keeping things civil, but this is hardly the time or place for that kind
of conversation,” she’d whispered only loud enough for him to hear, the sound of Yelena’s
singing acting as a faint lullaby in the distance.

Damian’s nose scrunched in distaste at the reminder, but his own hand still moved delicately
atop hers.

“Definitely not the time or place,” he’d whispered back, “especially considering we’re about
to head into battle once again. I’d honestly hoped it would be at least a month until something
like this happened”

Brook sighed, the only sign of her own disappointment she’d let show. She supposed that
with the lives they’d chosen for themselves, hoping for peace was nothing but a foolish
pensive.

“Then to war we go, but we’re lucky enough that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think
they’d let us,” she said, pointing towards their cluster of friends. The two only dared to bask
in their brief touch for a second, refusing to classify it as any type of goodbye before their
mission began.

It was more of a promise of a proper continuation at a later time.

They’d both sketched out a plan of attack while they’d worked on the antidote, one which
would require all of them to work as one again. Brook would remain fighting by Damian’s
side, that hadn’t been negotiable for both of them, but looking at him now…he almost looked
stronger than before. She wondered if letting go of past grievances did that to a person.

Only because they were certain their friends were finally awake and stable to some
acceptable capacity, did they summon them over to explain the plan. Jon and Peter had been
able to stand on their own by then and seemed physically present, but they’d still made sure
to explain things slowly just in case. While Damian shared the intricacies of their half-baked
plan, Brook finally bit the bullet and called her dad.
Explaining things to him had been a little more difficult considering dad was predictably
freaking out. She’d tried to ease his mind by assuring dad Harley had left early…because he
wasn’t feeling well. Even amidst a battle, Brook wasn’t gonna sell out her brother, especially
since she was beyond relieved his teenage rebellion had probably spared him some unsavory
nightmares.

Brook had not been able to sugarcoat the fact that she’d had to ally with a Wayne to obtain an
antidote to the gas, but seeing as too many lives were at risk, dad had easily overlooked that
little detail. The Avengers were in Manhattan, luckily, and in the end it was agreed that dad
and Uncle Rhodey would come as back-up since their suits had some semblance of a
filtration system within their helmets.

Maybe it was to ease his mind, but Brook had also left out the part where the Scarecrow’s gas
had taken hold of her and Lena. She’d merely assured her dad that the Dynasty was safe and
sound for now, their absence not yet noted. Once she hung up and returned to the table,
everyone had shrugged off their heels and ties, Ned and Damian already sealing the small gas
containers with their precious antidote.

The best they could do to further seal the gaps between the container and the nuzzle had been
to chew up gum Harry had in his pocket and place it like make-shift tape. The two containers
didn’t exactly look very nice, a bunch of scraps put together was more like it, but it was vital
to the success of their plan.

“Any questions?” Damian asked, addressing the group as he made count of his stashed
weapons, a growing pile in the middle of the table in which Brookyln was also adding her
own. Daggers, throwing bat-shaped blades, stuff the school would frown upon them having.

Mercifully, everyone shook their heads, though Ned and MJ weren’t looking too confident.
They were a vital part of the group, always had been, but they weren’t normally operating as
field agents. Brook had always been fashioned to be a fighter, so she couldn’t claim to
understand what they were feeling, couldn't imagine helping in any other way. Regardless,
she knew they’d do just fine, the two had proven many times that they worked well under
pressure.

Harry lifted his head off the table, hands splayed atop the counter space as he added, “Damn
this to hell. I’m exhausted, so let’s go get killed by yet another Gotham psychopath, then at
least we can get some sleep at last”

“No one’s gonna die,” Tanya argued, though the usual bite to her voice was dulled, “Just
think about the Joker being one of the high level bosses, this guy is nothing but a side quest.
We can handle those just fine”

Brooklyn had never gotten too absorbed in video games despite Ned and Peter’s best efforts
to change that, but the way things were looking at right now, they were fighting a two-sided
battle. On one hand was the fear gas, the other trouble being the Joker’s soldiers. She
supposed that if it were a game, it might be interesting, but real life had no reset buttons.

Though Raven was not a normal part of their group operations, she didn’t seem too troubled
providing assistance, which Brook decided to take as a good sign… that is until Raven had
looked around the mismatched group gathered around her armed with scrapped weapons and
looking as if they’d just escaped a tornado that had hurled them forward in time. The girl
whose skills and origins were still mostly a mystery to Brook ran a tired hand along her
purple hair-bob, and said, “This is the last time I hang out with you people. You’re all
unbelievably insane”

That plus the quick kiss she and Tanya exchanged before everyone moved towards the
barricaded door, one which looked a lot like a goodbye kiss, spoke volumes of her
confidence.

Tanya began the operation by using Brook’s watch to contact the Queen’s police, managing
to get through to the front line of the incoming calls simply because of her last name. A quick
talk with her dad that went much like Brook’s own call earlier had secured the incoming help
of the police force.

If MJ’s estimate was correct, they had about fifteen minutes to get things ready for their
arrival, that is if traffic was in their favor. That was their time restraint.

Now was the time to shed the masks of the mighty heirs, to play another one of their
identities well. The warriors.

It all began by exiting the room as soon as they confirmed the coast outside the hall was
clear. It was a good thing they deployed when they did, because as soon as they’d all been
ready to head out their separate ways, the group heard the distinct sounds of distant
screaming. Rushing to the windows along the hall that faced the small glass roofed staff
parking spot adjacent to the theater, the teens barely peeked their heads over to see two trucks
lining up…screaming students too lost in their fears as they were being carried inside them.

From within the theater down the hall, they hadn’t yet heard the sound of any guards being
deployed. Meaning the Scarecrow hadn’t noticed the three heirs, who might be worth the
most ransom, were missing. If kids were already being loaded though, their window of
opportunity might be shorter than they’d bargained.

Though no one was happy to split up, especially when the darkness of the halls and the
villain infiltrating their school wasn't exactly comforting..but this was the best chance at
survival. The best way her greatest fear wouldn’t come to pass. Or at least she hoped so.

The plan itself was simple on paper. Jon and Peter —arguably the ones with the greatest
ability to get to high places undetected— would get to the roof with one of the antidote
bottles rigged to a timer made to work with Harry’s mundane yet expensive Rolex. Getting
rid of the gas first was not ideal if students would wake from their slumber to a most
unexpected sight of their fellow classmates fighting like pros. To combat that problem, they’d
try and deal with as many guards as they could before deploying the antidote once the
authorities were there.

To ensure the spread of the gas over a large radius, Pete and Jon would carefully place the
container atop the disco ball...but since there were snipers looking up above, likely expecting
a hero’s dramatic arrival, Brook and Damian would help distract them.
Though it wasn’t ideal to charge in like this, with so little weapons and limited clean oxygen
in their lungs, she and Damian would use the cover of the gas to their advantage. Crouching
before the double doors leading into the theater, she and Damian quickly exchanged a
reassuring handhold, one in which the hilt of his katanas rested between their skin.

Seeing as their attack was meant to be a distraction, neither made an effort to be quiet as they
burst in side by side. Their arrival prompted panic from the enemy, the Scarecrow’s voice
booming across the space as he demanded to know who’d arrived. Avoiding blind gunshots
and immobilizing enemies with cuts to their legs, she and Damian moved like shadows, only
pausing to gather clown masks from the fallen enemies.

Donning a symbol of the Joker was not ideal, but falling prey to nightmares was even less so.

Plus, aside from constant clean air, it would help shield their identities.

Once their masks were on and four more were lazily discarded by the doors they’d entered
through, it was easier to get about their mission without the worry of the oxygen in their
lungs. They were able to ambush enemies more swiftly, though neither of them was keen to
be too far from the other.

While they worked, the two made an effort to have their shifting locations known to their
enemies by removing clown masks as they went so the screams of the lackeys would attract
the attention away from phase two of the plan. As she and Damian kept the shots and attacks
to one side of the room, Raven, Harry, MJ, and Ned were able to put on the other masks
they’d discarded to secretly get as many students out into the hall as possible.

If any enemy somehow spotted them, Brook could rest assured Raven would deal with
whoever tried to stop their rescue efforts. The stranger insisted that she could grant
nightmares just as easily as the gas could with her own abilities, something they hadn’t made
bigger use of to secure her identity.

While they fought and rescued victims inside the theater, Yelena and Tanya were stationed
outside for their own part of the mission. Tanya was there to wait for the cops, seeing as her
father would be the one leading them, they thought a familiar and trusted face would help
with updating the man on the situation so that once they gave out the signal, the cops could
charge in unharmed.

Yelena was there to fight the Joker’s goons that were loading students into the trucks. Jon
would join her as backup once the gas tank was loaded up onto the disco ball, and once the
enemies were dealt with, Lena would activate the second canister of antidote to ensure the
exit out onto the outdoors was clear of the toxin.

Though Jon was likely already on his way out, Peter was not set to join them. To ensure the
air would be as clear as possible for when the heroes charged in, Peter would crawl into the
air ducts above to dispel the air into the boiler room once the antidote had worked its effect.

Trusting that all of those phases of the plan were going smoothly, she and Damian continued
their joint attacks…slowly moving closer to the stage where they’d once performed Romea
and Julian, which would now be the platform in which they’d attack the Scarecrow together.
Though the plan was to let the heroes and cops do most of the ‘rescue’ work, that didn't mean
they were willing to leave the Scarecrow conscious to activate any other gasses into the air.
Even if many of the guards remained, Gotham’s villain needed to be taken care of personally.

The two rolled up onto the stage with ease, both brandishing a katana in one hand and one of
her spare daggers in the other. The two caught the Scarecrow’s attention rather quickly, and
though they couldn’t see the man’s expression, his quick step backwards was indication
enough of his surprise.

“Who are you?” the villain asked, sounding irked.

Neither teen replied, not as they each silently chose a flank and rushed to attack. Despite his
background as a professor, the Scarecrow was by no means weak. He knew how to dodge hits
decently, even if he clearly didn’t have much confidence to dish them out. It was all looking
like an easy fight, their blows were starting to land cuts along the villain’s body, and with
each retracting step…the man was running out of stage to fall back on.

After a rather violent swing from Damian, the Scarecrow fell on his back, his mask morphing
his expressions of frustration and anger despite the stiff sac-like fabric. She and Damian
stood before him, neither of them hurt, the glowing katanas pointed down at the enemy.

Brook was about to remove said mask since Damian had mentioned that despite his affinity
for the clever gasses, the Scarecrow himself was not immune to their effects. It would be
nice, Brook thought, to see the man fall victim to the cruel suffering he’d put many through
tonight. The antidote would deploy in a few minutes, but by then he’d already have suffered
and likely brandished the handcuffs he deserved.

Yet just as she’d taken a step forward to do just that, the man laughed up at them.

“You know what, it doesn't matter who you are or how you got here,” the Scarecrow said,
clutching one of the bleeding cuts along his thigh, “Experience is the only thing that brings
knowledge, and the longer you are on earth the more experience you are sure to get. Which is
why I always have a backup plan…one your stolen masks can’t save you from”

Brook made to stop him, but by the time she moved, the villain took out a small glass flask
from within his pockets, one with a substance that glowed an eerie violet shade. He threw it
on the floor between her and Damian, and despite their Joker masks, Brook could actually
see as the purple gas filtered into it.

She was choking on the substance, trying to cough out the surprisingly uncomfortable
thickness of it. Though it probably wasn’t the best idea, both she and Damian hastily
removed their masks to get the gas out of their eyes. Instead of the feeling from before, she
wasn’t pulled into a hallucination. This time, Brook was still aware of her surroundings as
that bubbling fear took hold, only it felt as if it was tethered to a string…a string bound to
Damian.

“I’m never going back to Arkham,” she vaguely heard the Scarecrow state, “Maybe you
hindered my plans, but you’ll be too busy with one another to try and stop me now”
That's what that was…all of her fear wasn’t focused on the worst case scenario her mind
could conjure up, when she looked into Damian’s eyes, somehow her mind was certain he
was about to attack. He wanted to kill her, of that she was suddenly convinced. It's why she
took a few steps backwards, away from the person her mind couldn’t quite remember much
of…except for how deadly he was.

Even when he too looked eager to get away from her, the fogginess of her mind swayed
Brook that it was just a ruse, a method of the League of Assassins to get her guard down. The
weapons she’d been holding suddenly became the only thing that might save her, and the
enemy she’d previously been attacking became a forgotten memory.

Brook likely would’ve ran, maybe even attacked to spare her own life with both her weapons
and maybe even the flames at her disposal if need be…but just as voices whispered of
Damian Wayne’s deadliness, there was a part of her that wanted to refute those claims. Yes,
he was deadly…but so was she. Brook could barely recall they were alike in that sense.
Though she couldn't remember any exact moment that could prove so, a part of Brooklyn was
convinced he’d never be a threat.

There was something about that gaze of his that screamed at her to stand down. That voice,
her voice, implored her to remember that they’d both been through a lot. They’d stumbled.
They’d lost. But they’d done all of that together.

A particular image of the teen on the ground beside her, frantically trying to reach her hand
while they’d been in the midst of an execution was what acted as a cold bucket of water over
her senses. It was a brief memory of the past, one that the effect of the gas had tried to
counteract by showing her flashes of Damian’s fighting skills, his accuracy, the skill of it all.

But she’d already known he was deadly before, there had to be more than that, otherwise
Brook wouldn’t have reached for him that day of her set execution by Ivan’s order. The
thought alone prompted her weapons to lower, and the slight tilt of her head as she tried to
figure him out…that too prompted his own weapons to lower.

Yes, he was dangerous. But Brook’s fear of Damian hurting her was not stronger than the fear
of her hurting him. Even with a foreign influence on her mind, Brooklyn was adamant about
that, as if it was carved into her soul.

The spell of confusion was completely dispelled when Damian somehow came to the same
conclusion, both their eyes widening as they realized what they could’ve done just now. More
importantly, at the fact that they’d managed to brush off the effects of the stronger gas
without an antidote. The trust they had for one another, that had saved them from falling prey
to this somehow…it's what allowed them to snap back into the present quick enough to turn
their weapons back on the Scarecrow before he could even make to stand.

Despite the hollow dark holes that were his eyes, Brook could’ve sworn there was genuine
fear within them.

“How did you do that?” the villain asked, stunned still, “That wasn’t supposed to happen.
You two were supposed to kill each other”
This time, Brook wasn’t willing to take any more chances. She quickly moved to rip off the
filters along the sides of his mask just as their antidote exploded from up above in a green
mist. It would take a while for the antidote to reach them, which was enough for the
Scarecrow to visibly become enthralled by the effects of his fear.

If the villain's frantic whispers were anything to go by…the fear that consumed him wasn't
Batman…it was actually about them. The two individuals that could surpass the effects of his
clever gas. Brook and Damian didn’t have time to bask in the satisfaction of their success, not
as Damian swiftly moved over to activate the fire alarm as the green mist of their creation
bathed down upon them.

Brook made quick work of binding the Scarecrow with a discarded tie, and with the signal
out to Tanya, the two teens and their allies quickly moved to the group of students that were
slowly coming to, pretending to be hostages alongside them.

The antidote had mercifully worked, that most was sure as none of them fell back under any
unpleasant spell of fear, and any sign of their involvement was gone by the time Iron Man
and War Machine burst in from the roof to take care of the leftover masked guards. The
police infiltrated the room from all its entrances, focusing more on keeping the students safe
while the heroes dealt with the fighting.

Brooklyn did her best to appear dazed, especially when Batman and four of his allies —the
famed Nightwing, Red Hood, Spoiler, and Orphan— rushed in to deploy their own batches of
antidote to ensure everyone’s safety just as the massive fans above the room turned on to
absorb all of that unpleasantness.

Brook and the Dynasty let themselves be rescued by the police, playing the role of clueless
victims despite the heroes knowing better. It took a while for everyone to come back to their
senses, for students to be picked up, and for the school to be deemed safe.

Dad had spared them a speech about recklessness and safety when he saw neither of his
daughters or Peter were harmed, though he’d insisted on escorting them home. Once again
the Dynasty couldn't bid farewell to one another properly amidst the chaos, but dad had
surprised them all by checking in on Jon before the Kryptonian headed over to where Damian
was awaiting Alfred’s arrival at the parking lot. His being Lena’s boyfriend and the fact that
she’d sworn Jon had remained by her side through it all, that had been enough for dad to
want to ensure he too hadn’t been harmed.

That had surely lifted Jon’s spirits at least.

Harley, thank goodness, was already waiting for them at Lena’s apartment when they arrived.
Once dad realized Peter and all his children were accounted for, he and Uncle Rhodey spared
a few minutes to hug them tight before they had to head back on the road to ensure the
criminals were all properly taken care of.

That night, as news of the event was broadcast on the late news, the four of them huddled
together on the new couch…neither her nor Peter willing to go back to their lonely beds after
what had occurred. At least not yet. They’d stayed up till midnight soothing one another until
the exhaustion of the day caught up to them all.
Brook had kept the lights on in her apartment that night, the steady flow of fifties music her
companion as she lay in bed. It had been a relief when everyone else announced their safe
arrival home through their secure chat…but Brook would be lying if she said she wasn’t
expecting a private call from her walkie-talkie. She figured that Damian’s family must be
hovering over him again after tonight’s events; she couldn't exactly blame them for their
worries.

Yet some part of her lingered on the thought that tonight had gone better than expected in
every aspect. Sure Gotham had created some problems, but overall the main objective of the
night had been met. The Dynasty had faced everything together, and sure they were a bit
haunted right now, but they’d managed to survive yet another curveball thrown their way.
They’d saved lives along the way too. It was a soothing solace, one that finally helped her
sleep with a hand clutching her golden family necklace, the other the walkie-talkie.

On her nightstand was the string of pearls she’d been lent tonight, something she’d return
tomorrow, but the gesture they represented was perhaps the most soothing thing of all. A
reminded that she had someone who could shake her out of any fear, and for whom she could
return the gesture to as well.
 Bruce Wayne, The Best Detective In The World
Chapter Notes

I’ve waited so long to release this chapter, and I have to admit that I’m very excited for
you to see it at last! This is one of those chapters with vital revelations that will play into
the final conflict of this book, a mic drop moment if you will, one I've been planning for
since I was probably mid-way through the first book. More than that, this contains a
secret that's been hidden for too long, but I hope it will clear up some things that you
have all been puzzled about regarding one individual and his surprising way of acting
and thinking.

That being said, I hope you enjoy yet another gala in which there is bound to be some
very interesting things going on much like every other lavish event in this fanfic series.

(I wonder if any of you will catch the reference to a quote from Batman: Dark Victory
by Jeph Loeb. I just couldn’t help but add it in)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Damian POV-

As perhaps the social event he’d looked the least forward to in his life, Damian had been
dreading the early trip to Stark Industries where he’d meet…his boss, so they could attend yet
another charity gala where the business leaders of the world would convene for a ‘good
cause’.

Damian had woken up at an ungodly hour in the morning, even for him, just to have enough
time to take out his looming frustrations with a punching bag before heading out. He’d been
down at the Batcave for about an hour, punched and kicked until the thought of being a
glorified assistant had at least dulled to a level in which he could get through the afternoon
without choking anyone to death. After a scalding shower, he’d picked out an Italian suit to
Pennyworth’s liking —an ensemble of blacks and grays tailored to his figure— and decided
to leave without a word to his father or any of his family members that might be awake.

Father would make sure today was as tortuous for Brooklyn as Mr. Stark would ensure for
him, all under the pretext of training them for their future jobs. Damian was sure that anyone
in attendance, no matter how pathetic or unintelligent, would be able to tell this was nothing
more than another chapter in the thick book of revenge between their families. Seeing as
Damian saying anything to dissuade his father of such behavior might risk exposure of his
biggest secret, the teen grabbed the keys of his luxury car and raced off to Manhattan,
accepting his unfortunate fate.
As expected, Mr. Stark had been waiting for Damian in his large office. Unfortunately for
him, Ms. Potts would not be attending the event, nor would Peter seeing as he was interning
in the science division rather than for a CEO position. Not that he needed the silent support,
he was the Wayne heir, the bearer of the Robin mantle, certainly more than capable of getting
through an unpleasant afternoon without killing his beloved’s father no matter what the man
threw at him.

There were more important fights to worry about than a few hours of petty humiliation.

Perhaps it was due to Mr.Stark’s mischievous smirk at the thought of what would no doubt be
a most amusing day for him, but Damian wasn’t entirely certain when they’d gone down the
building and settled inside the limousine after being too lost in thought, pondering the cruel
possibilities. However inconsequential this was in the grand scheme of things, Damian
couldn’t afford to have his mind elsewhere.

Both he and Brooklyn had prepared senselessly these past few days to impress not just their
temporary bosses, but their fathers as well. The less mistakes they made, the less chance
others would have to embarrass them. With this golden opportunity presented before them, a
chance to prove their worth before society in a way that clearly showed no bias or
favoritism…there was no telling when they’d get the chance to earn their place again.

Seated across from Mr. Stark at opposite flanks of the limousine, Damian kept his gaze on a
tablet held lazily in his hand, one depicting the day’s schedule, reviewing the names of those
who would no doubt try and suggest a partnership with Stark Industries…and which would
actually be worth the investment.

Not many were, especially if one considered that Stark Industries was one of the big three,
one of the only companies in the world that already had enough power to not need any
further aid of any kind, like his father’s company and Harry’s future inheritance. From what
he’d noticed, despite having all the wealth and power necessary to wield the world at his
fingertips, Mr. Stark was big on charity projects. He used most of his wealth to help as many
people as he could without expecting any profit off it. Even with the large array of grants he
gave out to any and all noble causes, it hardly made a dent on his pocket, but Damian
supposed that most of the people at this event would never even dream of spending such
astronomical amounts of money yearly for no return.

Damian would never say it, but now he understood why his own father had gladly shouldered
a philanthropic agenda. Now that Damian had to review the reports of such charity, he
actually saw the worldwide difference it made in people’s lives. Not every world problem
could be solved with a domino mask and a blade, sometimes the lack of violence could be
just as helpful.

“You know,” Mr. Stark mused suddenly. Damian lifted his head, brow raised when he noticed
the man’s calculating yet mischievous gaze. Arms stretched out on the back of the leather
couch, Mr. Stark added, “Ever since a few days ago after what happened during your school
dance, I couldn’t help but notice that you and my daughter always seem to end up taking on
villains together”

Damian’s stomach sank.

He did his best to appear aloof, perhaps even a bit annoyed as he replied, “We’re in charge of
keeping the same city safe. It would only make sense we end up in the same places time and
time again, much to my annoyance. That doesn't mean we work together, but occasionally
our punches do align with the same enemy”

Mr. Stark’s gaze darkened at the words behind his blue tinted shades. A calloused hand
absentmindedly pulling at the knot of his red tie, the man explained, “I’m painfully aware of
that. Just because you both have to guard the same area, because you're both saving lives, is
the only reason I haven't pulled Brooklyn from patrols in Queens. The professionalism my
daughter shows is admirable, putting up with you even more so, but after what happened at
the school dance I feel I need to make something clear,”

Damian hadn’t expected a conversation like this, hadn’t even considered that seeing him and
his daughter standing before the defeated Scarecrow would trigger suspicion of any kind.
Perhaps that event itself hadn’t been the cause, but rather part of an accumulation of events
that once pieced together created an undeniable inquiry. This had to be the fifth time the two
dealt with an issue together, and Mr. Stark had to be wondering why their success rate was so
high when they were supposed to hate one another.

An unavoidable miscalculation.

Glancing at the closed window divider between them and the driver, Damian turned back to
the man with a blank expression he hoped conveyed all the opposite feelings he felt for
Brooklyn.

“Which is?” he asked, hands absentmindedly running along the circular cuff links with the
Wayne family initial elegantly carved onto the gold surface. A small gift given to him and his
brothers for such events.

“With the alien weapons out in the streets and crime on the rise, I can’t be selfish enough to
ask my daughter to sit tight and watch. Neither one of my girls would relent to that. But once
all this is over, and trust that me and mine will put an end to it indefinitely, then you will go
back to keeping your own gloomy territory safe. I don’t want my daughter around you for
long, not when your vigilante tendencies could rub off on her. She doesn't need to be catching
mistakes from a kid hiding behind a mask”

He didn’t put on a mask to hide, he had it on to create the image of what he represented.

Damian let out a bitter huff of laughter, one he knew the man would mistake as disgust, but in
reality it was the most defeat he’d admit. No matter how much he and Brooklyn had planned
to change their parent’s minds with this temporary internship, it was clearer to him now than
ever that such change could not be achieved. Damian never liked admitting defeat, it felt like
a personal failure, but he knew an immovable object when he saw one.

Anthony Stark wouldn’t even allow his daughter to patrol the streets with the likes of a
Wayne, much less for him to court her. To Mr. Stark, Damian was still the worst of the lot, an
ancient enemy he wanted far away from his kin. Maybe part of it was because Damian was
not an easy person to deal with. His best and worst qualities were inseparable, forever
intertwined to the point that no one could understand him completely without accepting both.
Maybe Mr. Stark had witnessed his strength and resourcefulness, but he’d never look past the
shadow of his ancestors.

Damian had never fooled himself into thinking the two would grow to be best friends, that
Brook would succeed to placate his own father’s distaste…but having their reluctant
acceptance would’ve made life easier.

Who knew that parents would make life as difficult as villains could?

Damian didn’t bother promising anything, nor did he refute it. He couldn't do either without
consequences that would only make matters worse. That kind of helplessness was somehow
the most humiliating thing Mr. Stark had put him through without even knowing it.

Maybe it would one day make him the bad guy, to court a girl without her family’s approval
or even that of his own if they were ever to find out. But his beloved was worth the scrutiny,
it was a powerful emotion that ignored things like practicality and danger. Their something
more, no matter how forbidden, never changed nor faltered. If the past year of his life hadn’t
come to pass, he might’ve thought this pursuit useless and pathetic, but the whirlwind of
emotions in Damian’s stone heart and battered soul had proven time and time again to be
more than just a casual attraction or a meaningless dalliance.

Much like the humiliation Damian would suffer through in a few minutes upon arrival to his
social engagement, he would shoulder this to protect a secret worth keeping.

Though it tasted like bile in his mouth, Damian turned away from the man, eyes back on the
glowing screen, and replied coldly, “Aside from company matters during my internship at
Stark Industries, I don’t take orders from you. Though rest assured I’d love nothing more
than to be as far from your daughter as possible. Sometimes you have to work with people
you wouldn’t necessarily want to eat with, and it's because of that philosophy by which I’ll
continue to stifle my own distaste at having your daughter near if it means we end this mess
before more innocents die”

If Mr. Stark caught the subtle jab, the man didn’t let it show. Or perhaps he was biding his
time to present Damian with an even worse embarrassment to come.

Brooklyn POV-

If she had to choose between facing an army of the Joker’s lackeys or sitting in a limousine
alone with Mr. Wayne, she’d gladly take out her weapons and risk a most unpleasant death.
The vehicle itself was large enough that if she avoided looking to her right, she could almost
pretend she was there alone. But Mr. Wayne had an aura about him that demanded attention,
one that made a person feel studied and scrutinized even amidst their shared silence.

Brooklyn was not afraid of the man, the Scarecrow’s gas had proven as much. That didn’t
make the Batman's scrutiny any easier to deal with, especially when they were hiding behind
masks of well-put together individuals as if they hadn’t both been burning the proverbial
candle on both ends. Damian had offhandedly mentioned something about his dad and the
Justice League being assigned to monitor exports of weapons in and out of the country like
mere cops or government agents as of late. The task of dealing with the weapons on the
streets of this particular nation fell to the Avengers…with infiltrations to secret bases only
allowed with the green light of the Sokovia Accords Panel.

All the heroes were working overtime, under a leash, and she had a feeling they were all in
awful moods because of it. Especially because they hadn’t been able to accomplish anything
substantial thanks to those very restrictions.

The knowledge of that frustration was the reason why Brooklyn had kept her words brief
since she’d arrived at Wayne Enterprises tower in Gotham that morning. She wasn’t foolish
enough to keep her head down before an adversary, but there were other ways to spend the
ride to the gala without useless conversation. One of those ways was reviewing for the event
she was about to walk into, one where all eyes would be on her, Damian, and Harry. It was no
secret that they’d started internships to better prepare for their future roles, and according to
the gossip hoarder that was Harry Osborn, there was already talk amongst the wealthy circles
that circulated around getting in the teenagers’ good graces, see how much they could get
away with to try and trick them into their agendas.

If the three teenagers weren’t currently working under secret identities to stop Cobalus and
his allies, Brook might’ve been more nervous about today.

Keeping the ultra-thin computer propped on her legs, Brook glanced at the security reports
for the event to make sure there were no weaknesses or blindspots for the guard rotations and
cameras. Ned had done them a huge favor by keeping an eye on the security programing to
make sure it couldn't be hacked. With so many of the world’s most important people gathered
in one place after the Joker’s painful blow, Brooklyn wasn’t willing to take any chances.
Especially since the Joker had already targeted a gathering with many children of wealthy
individuals.

Additionally, Yelena and Jon would be a few blocks away, unseen atop an inconspicuous roof
awaiting any emergency signal from the three heirs in case things went south. Tanya even had
the direct numbers of some of her dad’s police contacts from the area just in case there was
need for their involvement.

As far as security went, she had little to worry about. Theoretically.

Turning to her temporary boss, Brook caught sight of her reflection against the tinted
windows beside the man. Her typical red lipstick was armor of its own, and had always been
simply for the knowledge that she carried a bit of color with her after a childhood of
bleakness. After a call with mom last night, she’d helped Brooklyn pick out a sleek black
satin dress with no sleeves and a neckline meant to accentuate her shoulders. It was rather
long, and unlike the 50s skirts she’d worn a while back, the tight-slit was the only thing that
allowed her to walk freely.

Mom had insisted that if Brook was to venture into shark infested waters, she should at least
walk in looking like a muse.

Of course, Brook hadn’t forgotten to hide an array of weapons, from her Stark watch hidden
under a bracelet of white pearls, to a matching necklace whose actual jewels could be easily
shattered on the ground to release a gas meant to combat the Scarecrow’s toxin. She and Peter
had decided to develop a stronger antidote after what had happened during the school dance,
and after Damian suggested adding an antidote to the Joker’s ‘laughing gas’, they’d made
sure to carry those contingency plans with them wherever they went.

Her sleek black heels had removable soles that carried clusters of thin but deadly throwing
blades, a gift from Natasha. Not to mention her suit was on call with a simple press of her
Stark watch if need be. Brooklyn had no doubt the Batman was well aware of the blades
she’d hidden, no matter how annoying he was, after working for him for so long she knew he
had a keen eye for details. Especially where enemies were concerned.

Keeping her voice steady and her eyes locked onto his own, a shade of blue so different from
Damian’s emerald orbs, Brooklyn stated, “The opening reception should last no more than
fifteen minutes, afterwards everyone is free to mingle until the toast speech begins”

Bruce Wayne quizzed, “Who do I need to speak to?”

“Simon Stagg of Stagg Enterprises needs to discuss further funding for his chemical
experimentation campaign. Not a bad investment for the company, but ethically it's
questionable how far he’s willing to go for results,” Brook then added from memory despite
the notes on the screen before her, “The millionaire Maxwell Lord wants to discuss a
partnership for something he calls the OMAC project. My sources tell me he is very much
against the mutant population, secretly investing in protests and aiding radical groups that
support violence. My guess is he wants to use your enhanced satellite, not to track weather
anomalies and climate change, but to identify mutants at a large scale to annihilate them”

She’d had Ned research his recent obsessions, seeing as Maxwell Lord had also shown
increasing and almost desperate interest to work with Stark Enterprises. The fact that Bruce
Wayne secretly had a satellite called Brother Eye to monitor ‘metahumans’ on Earth wasn’t
surprising (though thankfully she wasn’t yet on the list), but the fact that Maxwell had several
documents on it, and had hired some of the best satellite hijackers HAD been of worthy
concern to throw Bruce Wayne a bone.

“Anything else?” the man asked, unimpressed.

Brooklyn felt her brow twitch, her carefully crafted control and indifference slipping.

“You’re telling me that you’re not concerned after finding out some racist is trying to hijack
your secret satellite?” she couldn’t keep herself from asking.

Mr. Wayne didn’t even flinch at the words, didn’t show an ounce of concern. The face that
stared back at her wasn’t the mask of the billionaire of Gotham, the sharpness of it had to be
from the Batman itself.

“Maxwell works for the Justice League, but I’ve known for some time of his distaste for
those with skills beyond that of humans. He’s been pushing to turn the Justice League into
what he refers to as Justice League International, a group of heroes under government control
much like your Avengers,” Bruce stated, almost sounding bored, “He tried to orchestrate an
attack at the United Nations Building, one in which no one would get hurt by not giving the
terrorist the firing pin for the bomb they’d plan on using. All to bring the Justice League into
the public eye in a similar manner to what caused the weakening of the Avengers during the
Sokovia Accords conference”

He’d known of the man’s plotting for a while then. Had known and likely stopped Maxwell
from getting what he wanted.

“If you knew about that and likely knew about the satellite, why not arrest him or try to
cripple his own power and wealth?” she found herself asking, wondering if this would
become a different type of lesson from their usual business talk. A discussion between heroes
rather than heirs to wealth and power.

Bruce explained, “He doesn't know Batman is Bruce. He doesn’t know both of my identities
are aware of his tactics with both the Justice League and Wayne Enterprises, he is a different
person with both so it was easy to see what his motives were. That can be useful for when the
right time to strike comes, like tonight when I deny his access to the satellites under the
pretext that I drunkenly made the password and forgot about it, rendering the effort of a
satellite hacking as useless”

Brooklyn blinked once. Twice.

“You’re playing the card of the irresponsible playboy to make him think his plans are
unattainable without actually denying him or getting on his bad side. Keeping the secret until
it's the right time to strike and you can use that friendship to weaken him where it hurts,”
Brooklyn mused, slightly impressed.

Only an irresponsible party addict, the mask she knew Bruce Wayne had played in his early
years as CEO, would forget the password to a secret satellite worth millions of dollars.
Maxwell Lord wouldn’t even question it, but would try to keep in Bruce’s good graces for his
money alone. Whatever his next plan would be, he’d likely go to Mr. Wayne for help after the
unfortunate denial of being able to help his friend with a satellite meant to help with climate
change.

It was a smart move, one of the caliber of a great spy.

“You really knew all that?” Brooklyn found herself asking, adding bitterly, “With everything
that's going on I’m surprised you managed to notice”

It hadn’t meant to be a jab, not really. Bruce must’ve known it, because his gaze didn’t
harden, nor did he rush to defend his honor. He simply stared at her, like he found it amusing
that she thought he was not worth his title of the greatest detective in history. But there was
something else, something hidden deeper within that even after studying Damian’s
mannerisms extensively, she couldn't label confidently.

“You figured it out, though I am surprised that you told me,” he explained, large muscular
frame leaning further back into the leather couch.

“Why is that?”
Brooklyn didn’t like people underestimating her, much less the person that had made her
internship impossible. He’d already attacked her at every angle, looking for weaknesses by
bringing up her past, her future, and now questioning the extent of her espionage skills.

“If Maxwell Lord had used the satellite, we both know I would’ve stopped him, but the
revelation of my hidden technology would’ve been exposed. With no excuse as to why
Wayne Enterprises has a satellite that tracks metahumans, the company would’ve suffered.
As an enemy, I would’ve expected you to jump at the chance of crippling the Wayne name by
keeping silent on this issue”

Bruce may be a son of a bitch, but he was perceptive. That being said, Brooklyn had never
considered using that against him or the company for one reason…that being Damian. Wayne
Enterprises was his legacy, something she knew he would help thrive one day with what
could very well be a better vision than his predecessors. Even if they were together, they were
still business rivals, but whoever would be more successful would be done under fair terms
without trickery.

That and Brooklyn didn’t want to see a single mutant hurt because of all the help they’d
given her, and because they didn’t deserve it. She couldn't say any of that of course, so
instead she opted for a lie fitting of the Wayne and Stark rivalry.

“Now where would be the fun in that? I’d like for your son to still be CEO of a company of
the caliber of Stark Industries so that I may destroy him without the need for punches or
weapons. It will make it that much more enjoyable,”

Bruce Wayne was silent for a second, and whatever he found within her guarded gaze
prompted a sigh from the man. Not a sigh of disappointment or annoyance, but of acceptance.

In what could’ve been classified as a faint whisper, Brook heard the man mutter, “You really
are everything I’ve predicted you would to be,”

Brook didn’t care that they’d arrive at their destination in twenty minutes, too short a time for
the heated argument they’d no doubt have. A repeat of the argument they’d already had both
in his home and his office. She was furious to the point that she felt the palms of her hands
heating up, for which she mildly regretted taking off her ‘power suppressors’ as Harley liked
to call them. After all the attacks, Brooklyn hadn’t wanted to risk the difficulties of taking off
the metal bracelets to be her downfall, but if her anger escalated too high she was sure this
entire limousine would burst into flames.

“I know you think the worst of me, that it will never change no matter how much I prove
otherwise. But I’d think that someone who has kids trained as I did, children you accept that
have bits and pieces of the past you hold against me, would have some semblance of respect
for me,” Brooklyn said, straightening up in her seat, then raised her voice slightly to add,
“You know nothing about me. Nothing”

Like before, Bruce Wayne didn’t react the way she expected. She’d predicted the man would
rise to the challenge with his own ammunition of points against her person. Instead, he
brandished a small smile…and his eyes, those crystal eyes held guilt within them.
The oddity of it all had Brooklyn scooting sideways, subtly away from him. What had he
found amusing? Why was he simultaneously troubled? Maybe it was a mistake on her part, or
maybe the man truly was more tired than she’d bargained. Damian had once said that his
father could work for days on end without paying mind to his body’s need for sleep until
Alfred forced him to rest before a breaking point. Maybe she should send a quick text to alert
Alfred of an impending exhaustion limit?

Surprisingly, it was not the exhaustion that brought a smile to his face. It was her.

Calmly —as if the words themselves didn’t make Brook’s body freeze up in blinding shock
— Bruce challenged, “I do know everything about you, Miss Stark. For instance, I know that
you lied to me just now. I know that part of your reluctant loyalty to me during this internship
is not because of your future as CEO or for a grade, but because you care very deeply about
my son, you’re together after all”

You care very deeply about my son, you’re together after all.

Those impossible words from the man swirled in Brook’s head over and over until she wasn’t
sure how long she’d sat there without breathing…frantically trying to come up with an
excuse, wondering how he’d figured out her deepest darkest secret. None of that mattered
now, Brook realized, because if Bruce Wayne truly knew she cared about Damian beyond the
confines of their born animosity, there was no doubt the man would either threaten her, or
ensure she’d be far away from his youngest son from now on.

She briefly considered drowning in her embarrassment, maybe drowning Bruce Wayne along
with her before he could have the chance to confront or even disown Damian. More than
anything, she just wanted to evaporate or expire on the spot to avoid whatever beating or
threats she was about to face.

He must’ve known that Brook was calculating the velocity of the vehicle, the impact she’d
suffer at that speed when she threw herself out into the street. Bruce Wayne raised a hand, not
to attack...but to placate.

Brooklyn was so unused to the lack of anger and disgust in his features as he beheld her, that
she remained in place. What the man had to say…it had shaken her to her very core. More so
than any villain or fight had ever done.

In fact, Brook might dare to say it changed everything.

Bruce Wayne POV-

Bruce was no fool. He could be preoccupied at times, but he was always keenly aware of
everything in his childrens' lives even when most had an aversion to sharing stuff with him.

He was the world’s greatest detective, able to detect patterns in files and spot the most
inconspicuous of details at crime scenes, yet his ambitions for being well informed in these
types of instances were always centered around his childrens' safety and well being.
That being said, he'd known from day one that something had altered Damian’s world when
the two teenagers met at the Metropolis Gala. Watching them dance, interact, one couldn’t
help but note that despite being in a ballroom full of over a hundred people, the two teens had
been something different from everyone else. After years of being unchallenged and
seemingly unbothered by anything around him, Damian had finally met his match. From then
on, whatever axis Damian had hovered around since his arrival to Gotham, one circling his
ego, insistent reclusiveness, and perhaps even a bit of uncertainty, had veered off course
thanks to the Stark’s unforeseen arrival.

Originally, Bruce had thought the unexpected change meant nothing but trouble, especially
when he'd been suddenly summoned to the principal's office after that fight on school
grounds. Yet as much as he'd despised the oddity of it at first, as the subsequent weeks rolled
by, his keen detective eyes had caught on to a more complex connection between the two
since.

He’d expected the rivalry, the hatred, maybe even the acceptance that they’d both been cut
from the same cloth. People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones after all, and
when nothing was severely broken after a while, he figured they’d come to that conclusion
too.

What Bruce hadn’t expected was for his son and the Red Room assassin to work beyond it, to
create a better bond from all of that. His suspicions that it had truly shifted into something
worth looking into began when the day his son was bed-ridden with a ‘training’ injury. His
siblings wouldn’t have made a big deal about it were that the case, but they had all gathered
in Damian’s room the subsequent day amidst hushed whispers and worried glances.

The broken window in the room, the sudden patrols, and Stephanie’s sudden obsession with
celebrity news that didn’t speak of much other than the Stark’s weekend outing, had been
oddities his mind had picked up on…but his lips never voiced. Not even to his wife.

At first he’d assumed the worst, that someone from the League had come to kill Damian and
the teen had sworn the others to secrecy with whatever extensive blackmail he harbored, all
to ensure Robin wasn’t benched from his first solo mission. Just in case, Bruce had thought to
check the surveillance cameras around the property because of it. Though most of the footage
had been looped in a rush, Bruce Wayne had learned from recent past infiltrations to his
home by a troublesome Talon to create a backup disc on each camera.

That night, shrouded by shadows and the flapping of bat wings, Bruce Wayne had stared in
disbelief at the large monitor before him. All the smaller monitors around it depicting
different angles of the main road to the manor. All of them clearly showing a rain-soaked
Brooklyn Stark carrying his injured son to safety, refusing to leave him unconscious at the
threshold where her bloodline had been unwelcome for centuries.

It had puzzled him for a while, that is until he recognized the situation as something he too
had lived through. When Batman and Cat Woman had met, she’d been able to evade and
frustrate him for months on end. That hatred for her criminal tendencies had turned into
respect the more he learned about her, and when the two began working together to take
down villains like Poison Ivy…something had changed. They shared things, put prejudices
aside to save one another, and challenged what was possible. In a manner of months, she was
no longer an enemy, but something forbidden that his own mind couldn't label nor dispel no
matter how hard he’d tried.

The only way it had made sense had been by realizing that Cat Woman was arguably one of
the few people who knew Batman best, and it wasn’t his cowl-wearing identity that felt like a
mask in the end…the mask was Bruce Wayne. Meaning a trickster thief knew him best.

If two enemies could come together once…perhaps it wasn’t so far-fetched that it could
happen again.

When he told Brooklyn as much, the girl looked a little paler than before, and he wasn’t
entirely sure if she’d even bothered blinking the entire time he’d spoken, or even as she
asked, “It's a big leap from assuming I helped your son to safety than to thinking your son
and I are together,”

Bruce smirked at her efforts, however futile.

In truth, it was a big leap, but as Batman he’d made more far fetched assumptions that had
often been correct. He liked data and evidence, but sometimes listening to one’s instincts
really paid off. Instincts came from experience, and Bruce had plenty of it.

“I know for a fact you two are dating because my son would never agree to anything less
with the feelings I’m certain he harbors for you. Not to mention I didn’t miss the faint trace
of your perfume lingering on Damian when he returns home after shockingly long patrols, a
unique blend I caught a whiff of during our first meeting. Vanilla with a pinch of hibiscus,
correct?” he explained proudly, perhaps a bit smugly.

“We have to patrol the same city, inevitably teaming up at times, it's only obvious the scent of
the rather expensive perfume my mom bought me would linger on him, probably lingers on
everyone I have to be near for an extended period of time,” the teen argued, making a
surprisingly good point when most would’ve just given up.

He briefly wondered how extensively she’d been trained in the Red Room against
interrogation tactics to want to challenge his every point. It was a double edged sword to
ponder on, especially because he knew how the League of Assassins handled that kind of
training. Yet, he wondered what it would take for Brooklyn Stark to admit the truth both of
them were obviously well aware of.

“I also haven't missed the different blends of copper tones and auburn shades scattered along
Damian’s paint palette as the weeks progressed. I’ve gone to all of his secret art exhibitions
throughout the years and not once has he painted a single person, and even though I haven’t
ever seen his private art book, I know those colors only match your hair perfectly,” Bruce
countered, and just to further drive his point home, he added, “Speaking of colors. Until most
recently, one day I managed to catch sight of the faint, and almost invisible trace of red on the
corner of Damian’s lips. A shade most could’ve mistaken as paint or blood, but I know better
than that,”

Batman had seen too much blood even before he’d put on the cowl to note the difference with
absolute certainty. By then his suspicions of the two teens being closer than anyone could’ve
bargained had already been cemented into his brain as a probable hypothesis, but they’d been
solidified that very day.

Pointing at his own lips, so as to signal her own, he explained, “Despite having no shortage
of money, you don’t stray from that lipstick. Every time I’ve seen you it's always the same,
and it's what gave you two away. That color on Damian’s skin matched your lipstick shade
perfectly. Pat McGrath’s matte red lipstick, shade Vendetta. I went ahead and pulled up some
photos from your likely forced modeling jobs to confirm just in case”

Details concerning makeup had been something the Batman had grown used to cataloging
after his wife and Stephanie had proven time and time again how such subtleties could be
useful in a case. At times, the innocent simplicities spoke louder than words. In this case, it
had been useful to piece together clues…and it had kept him up at night wondering how a
Stark had gotten Damian to agree to physical touch, and well, whatever else had led to
lipstick on his son’s skin.

At the sign of her stunned silence, Bruce Wayne couldn't help but go down the list he'd
accumulated inside his head for months, one whose observations had been silently reserved
for himself and no one else. Not his wife, not Dick, not Alfred. Mental data not even Barbara
could hack.

“The RealCare baby Damian brought home was often referred to discreetly as Rosa. One
simple glance at your birth certificate indicated that was your middle name, and seeing as my
son doesn’t have any personal attachments to the word and it's only popular across Latin
countries—like Portugal and Spain— of which Damian also has no connection to, it was
rather peculiar and damning evidence”

Bruce thought back to Family Day, the only time in his life he’d seen Damian willing to not
only accept defeat, but also share the recognition of first place with anyone. He recalled the
time the two teenagers had shared shelter in a hidden farmhouse after his son had been
targeted by the Joker. A safe house reached through the Avenger’s network. He knew for a
fact his son trusted only a handful of people, and not even the promise of death could’ve
swayed him to put his trust in an enemy. He wouldn’t have accepted taking refuge in an
unknown safe house if he didn’t already have that level of trust with the Stark, if he didn’t
know with absolute certainty that she wouldn’t lead him to a trap.

Perhaps that heavy caution hadn’t just been Talia’s fault, but also his own.

Yet those extensive teachings hadn’t seemed to matter where the Stark was concerned. Not
when Damian sent out a signal to infiltrate an assassin gathering. When Bruce had arrived at
the discreet meeting place, he’d witnessed two teenagers ready to face hundreds of assassins,
ready to face them alone if need be. It occurred to him then that Damian hadn’t accepted
Talia’s summons to snuff out the League and her allies, but to rescue the Stark that had been
taken.

Damian had always been rather neutral when it came to problems with the League of
Assassins in respect to his mother, yet he’d fought those same individuals that day with no
second thoughts. He’d fought the leader of the Red Room as if he’d personally offended
Damian, as for Brooklyn Stark, she’d tore into Talia with just as much vigor like she too was
avenging a wrong doing. Them both confronting such powerful leaders was not something
Bruce had thought lightly of, there were very few people in this world willing to die for a
cause, much less for another person. That in itself had been a massive sign of change within
his son.

That day of the school play…there had been no life or death situations, but when he’d arrived
and seen the way they looked into one another’s eyes, the way their performance was more
than theatrics, it all became painfully clear. He’d almost forgotten who he was supposed to
be, especially before both Starks, but that day Bruce Wayne had gone home, it was probably
one of the first instances in which he pondered how far everything would go.

Bruce didn’t mention those instances though, those things Brooklyn Stark could easily
dismiss as the two teens being in the wrong place and the wrong time without meaning to.
But there were other subtleties that were undeniable, things she couldn't dismiss as easily.

“I can detect the smallest changes in my son’s voice down to the octaves, which have shifted
into softer tones as the months progressed. Most of all, it isn’t so much what my son has said
or how he said it, it's what he hasn’t. Whenever the Stark’s are brought up in conversation,
most notably you, no matter how much I goaded him to share his usual array of insults
towards an enemy, Damian has remained uncharacteristically quiet…unable to spit insults
beyond basic curses in your name”

The limo took a turn that threw the girl off balance for a second, enough that she snapped out
whatever panicked trance she’d been caught in. Brooklyn Stark, for all her usual fire and
defiance, could only whisper, “You do realize this doesn’t make any sense. Or maybe it
does…I suppose it does. You’ve been awful to me because you knew all this time that I cared
about the one person I should stay away from. You wanted to make me suffer for my feelings
for Damian…is that it?”

For the first time during his exchange of secrets and observations, it was Bruce that was
momentarily silenced. He recognized all he’d done and said, and thought he’d known for a
while that it was unfair and cruel, it had been necessary.

His hatred for Tony Stark was still very much real, too many experiences from years past
couldn’t change the distaste between both adults. But Brooklyn had been right in her own
assumption that his children’s circumstances had helped him see the girl’s past under a more
understanding light. Bruce didn’t have much experience with the Red Room, but he’d been
told it was just as cruel and unforgiving as the League of Assassins. For that he’d pitied the
daughter of his enemy, for that he’d silently rooted for her to succeed in this new path of
hero-hood.

There was no denying Bruce had been hard on both teens lately, mostly on Brooklyn. But it
truly wasn't out of malice towards a family feud or her past, that wasn't completely forgotten
but it could be overlooked by the genuinely good change he’d noticed in Damian’s life.
Change no one in the Wayne household had achieved for the past six years. That raging
anger, the thin thread his son walked on, teetering between who he'd been in the League and
the Robin he was now...it dissipated into a newfound maturity that let Bruce know his son
had finally found the purpose and the will to make the right choices without his father’s
guidance.
He’d tested Damian by insisting he take Raven to the school dance months ago, and though
the man feared the Teen Titans member’s feelings for his son might end up getting crushed,
that had all worked out in the end without his involvement. One of Brooklyn's friends had
changed her dating status almost overnight, and with that Bruce was even more certain his
son wasn’t just pursuing the first person that wasn’t afraid of him.

His trials for Brooklyn hadn’t been as mild. Bruce had been harsh towards the Stark, not out
of spite for bringing such wonderful change to his son, but rather to test the extent of her
emotions. The two teens, should they choose to simply work together as heroes or veer
towards a closer relationship, would have more obstacles than most couples. Many of which
could cause a couple to simply call it quits rather than bother with the effort.

Bruce, despite his harsh exterior, loved Damian more than words or actions could express.
Despite his son’s feigned aloofness, Bruce knew Damian's extensive skills in battle were only
paralleled by his big heart of which hints could seldom be seen by the way he treated pets and
animals. The man also knew meddling in his son’s personal life would not be a welcome
action even if it was with good intentions. Regardless, seeing his son toyed with or left to
suffer the stings of betrayal or heartbreak was not a scenario Bruce could so easily let occur.

So he’d tested Brooklyn not just to see if she would stay by Damian's side against any and all
troublesome obstacles, but also to make sure she wouldn't be the drug that sucked Damian
back to his old addiction. The drug that was the assassin's way of life, one that prioritized
killing. So far, Brooklyn Stark had surpassed his first impressions of her and went beyond the
blemished words of the violent beginnings in her file. She’d helped her son without seeking
anything in return on more than one occasion, she’d even considered their secret relationship
of enough importance that Bruce admitting to knowing about it had sent her paler than a
sheet of paper.

Bruce had needed that confirmation that even if the world wanted them apart, they’d see
something worthwhile in sticking together. It's why he’d tried to push her away, to create an
environment much like the one she’d face if the relationship ever went public, one where no
one would agree to it. Even so she’d remained by Damian’s side despite the stacking
difficulties, somehow they’d worked it all out on their own, and it was strong enough that she
was even betraying her father for it.

He knew ex-assassins didn’t think lightly of betrayal, especially for those they cared about. It
was because of the knowledge that both teens had a similar dark past that he’d been more
lenient on Damian’s patrol time in Queens, which he’d pretended to overlook under the guise
of being busy. If he couldn't see what the two were like as a couple, the closest point of
reference would be how they patrol as one. Not once had they ever reverted to old habits to
kill as far as he was concerned, and despite the rising troubles of the world, Queens had never
been safer.

His own son was even considered a hero…more importantly, he acted like one.

Wasn't that what the man had always wanted? For his children to be better than him, to spare
them from his mistakes so they could grow to be something great?
Bruce was a proud man, but it didn’t ache or cost him to admit fault in that moment as he
explained his peculiar reasoning. The lengths he’d gone to make sure the person who’d be
with Damian —who was very different from others his age and even his siblings in too many
ways— would be accepted and cherished the way he deserved.

He’d donned a mask, played his role to perfection to the point that Brooklyn Stark had never
suspected him knowing more than he should. In fact, he was certain even Damian wasn’t
aware, nor was his wife or his family. None of them knew how much he’d grown to respect
the teenager before him, how indebted he was to her for bridging out some humanity in his
son whom he’d once feared would choose a life of solitude that would consume Damian
whole.

Damian’s life was still far from ordinary, but it was surrounded by friends, a noble quest for
justice, the desire to connect to a single individual that he trusted above everyone else.
Brooklyn had helped with that, and even if she was a Stark, Bruce had grown to hope that the
secret relationship would last. He was their most ardent silent supporter, had been for months.

That being said, keeping the secret and going to extreme lengths to pretend to hate the
teenage girl had been his main priority. In fact, he hadn’t even dared to think about his
suspicions for too long.

“Isn’t that a little extreme, too paranoid even for the Batman? Changing your own thoughts to
match fake emotions…why?” Brooklyn asked after he’d explained the situation. She didn’t
look as startled as before, certainly wasn’t thinking of jumping out of the limo, but she was
on guard. Like she expected him to change his mind, to claim he truly did despise the
forbidden relationship and would do anything in his power to stop it.

To some, he supposed his process would seem like too much of a cautionary effort. Not to
Batman. Just as the Batcave lay hidden deep within his home, his secrets were always buried
in the deepest crevices of his mind to the point that he had to call upon them if needed.

Deciding he owed the teen an honest answer after all his lies, Bruce relented, “Do you have
any idea how many mind readers are around me at times? I’ve stumbled upon many kinds of
individuals that can venture into one’s thoughts, some are allies, others aren’t, but none of
them can be trusted with things like these. I’m not paranoid, I’m prepared”

Though metahumans like Raven and Martian Manhunter wouldn't dare peruse his library of
thoughts and memories, that didn't mean they wouldn't do so by accident one day. If they
knew, then the Justice League and the Teen Titans would be made aware…and soon it would
all be reported to his family.

This particular relationship wasn’t his to share, it was too new, too precious to be tainted by
the opinions of others. He’d prepared them both for some of the obstacles, but Bruce Wayne
knew better than most that even those who were extensively cautious could be caught off
guard by the cruelties of the world.

As the vehicle halted at a stop sign, Brooklyn kept her gaze on the tinted window behind her,
observing the passing pedestrians, the rushing bikes and the clamor of street vendors. He
might’ve assumed she needed a few minutes to process all he’d laid bare, but then he heard
her soft voice whisper, “Does this mean you’re not mad? Are you really ok with the daughter
of your enemy dating your son, a Black Widow…a murderer, being with your son?”

Bruce Wayne didn’t hesitate to stand, moving to sit beside the teen, who despite feeling the
dip of the couch, didn’t turn to face him. He didn’t give her time to assume the worst, to think
about every bad decision or wrong choice she’d been guilty of, not when laying it all on the
table for him to judge and disagree with was done for the sake of his own son.

Even if it weren’t for the things some of his kids had done, their own affiliations to assassins
guild or brief lapses of judgment, Bruce Wayne knew what it was like to be a walking
nightmare. He knew what it was like to wear the mask of a monster for the sake of a good
cause, but he also knew what it was like to be consumed by other’s teachings.

He held nothing against this girl, and whatever judgment he’d bestow in the future would be
by the actions she chose now. But it wasn’t his place to deny Damian happiness on account of
his ‘paranoia’ and extreme caution.

“I’m perfectly ok with Brooklyn Stark dating my son,” he said, “You’re both young but I
know you're mature beyond your years, more than that, you’re willing to protect one
another…that's all I ever wanted for Damian, someone who looked past his guarded exterior
and was able to keep him safe. You’ve done both and more”

It may have been the lighting in the limo, but Bruce could’ve sworn he caught her first exhale
of breath, had seen the fibers of her shoulder’s muscles relax at the simple words he almost
regretted not saying sooner. His original plan had been to wait and see if Damian would one
day share that secret with him, to be told the truth rather than to admit it. That had been a
long shot, but he’d trusted Damian would at least tell Dick about it, his eldest had a more
secure parental figure with Damian anyways. But his son had kept the secret to himself, and
after everything that happened…after witnessing what heartbreak would look like on his son
when he thought Miss Stark had passed away, the relief and determination in his eyes when
that nurse had said otherwise, Bruce knew he couldn't keep up his cruel tests any longer.

He hadn’t planned on telling Miss Stark today, much less in this situation where they’d have
to pretend to be enemies before the ‘nobility’ of the country in a few minutes. But the look of
defeat on her face earlier, the absolute resignation that Damian’s family would be one of
those constant obstacles...Bruce couldn’t be that sort of enemy to either of them any longer,
especially when he knew the difficult battles were just getting started.

Bruce Wayne obscured his relief behind a calm expression when he noticed the teen smile,
barely a tilt of her rouge lips, but enough that he figured she understood what he meant.

“Though I must add, despite my being able to accept it, I can’t promise your father will be as
understanding. He might even be less so if he knows I support it just to stand against me.
Though I'm still in agreement that our families shouldn’t intermingle too much due to our
past troubles —that kind of prejudice will take a while for me to get past completely— your
father won’t relent an inch” he admitted, “I know you’ve been playing the mask of being my
son’s enemy well.For your sake and his, it's best we all keep playing that cruel game not just
before the public eye, but between our families as well”
Perhaps it was his doing, his fault, but after years of involving his children in the
Wayne/Stark rivalry, even he could not predict how they would react. All his children cared
about Damian, of that he had no doubt, but they were also fiercely protective…some perhaps
more than Bruce would dare. Some had already stood up for Brooklyn’s past, but that didn’t
mean they’d trust her with Damian’s life. His wife, she may be playful and sarcastic to a
fault, but she was just as possessive about her children’s safety, had personal vendettas
against the League and probably the Red Room by proxy.

With a baby on the way, Bruce was even more cautious in his efforts to be a better father for
not just his unborn child but to his existing kids as well. He wanted to make up for the
mistakes now more than ever, and he was adamant about not leaving any of them orphaned
again.

This was the best for Damian, and if he ever decided to make it known, Bruce Wayne would
pretend to be colored surprised upon hearing about it if it helped. If his son wanted to talk
about it…if he ever wanted any kind of assistance in easing the strain of his secret, Bruce
would be there too. He may have grown up without a father, but he’d learned plenty about
what it took to be a good parent from Alfred, and he knew that Alfred would’ve waited for
Damian to call the shots regarding this.

Picking at her polished nails that were probably strategically sharp enough to cut through
flesh, the teen said, “I’m well aware my dad wouldn't be as understanding as he was about
my sister and Jon. He’s a wonderful man, but I think many things in his life have made him
incapable of letting go of grudges easily. Maybe my mom wouldn’t object too heavily to the
idea since she wasn’t born into the family prejudice…but my dad won’t look past it, the
Avengers will support him, especially since Aunt Natasha might not be able to look past
Damian’s time in the League as Ra’s heir”

The fact that the Stark knew about that piece of his son’s life spoke volumes of the kind of
relationship they had, one with Bruce couldn’t even fathom in its entirety.

Before Bruce would figure out what to say to placate the saddening fact that the teen couldn't
count on her family’s support, he realized that the weight of that truth wasn’t entirely stifling
to her. It was an accepted fate, and it made the man all the more regretful that he hadn’t
offered his secret support earlier.

“Since we’re being honest and all, I feel I should mention that Alfred may already be
suspicious. He might be almost certain Damian and I are friends, but beyond that, I’m not
sure,”

The confession felt like a reminder from the universe that despite being the world’s greatest
detective, Alfred could very well be the smartest and most cunning man alive. Bruce couldn’t
help the smile that bloomed into life, nor could he keep a hand from running down the length
of his face in slight annoyance at not seeing the signs before this.

If there was anyone that could elude the Batman with ease, it would probably be Alfred…his
father in every way that counted.
“Of course he does,” Bruce muttered, “I suppose out of everyone that might be suspicious,
it's a good thing that it's Alfred. No one is better at keeping secrets in our household, rest
assured”

The way she’d spoken of Alfred, it had been with the kind of comfort and warmth many
people experienced from him after only a few meetings. It's why Alfred’s military friends still
kept in contact, why just about half of Gotham’s most powerful members would not hesitate
to do him a favor. If Alfred had been nice to the young girl, enough that they carried that kind
of familiarity, then Bruce could only be eased by the fact.

He trusted Alfred’s judgment, sometimes even more than his own.

It was as they pulled into the large underground parking structure, lining up to be received by
a valet, that the teen surprised Bruce with a surprising inquiry he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t
about his observations or his approval, but rather about him.

Maybe it was one of her own observations, masked under the guise of a question.

“Damian says all your kids have issues with you or had at some point. Yet what you did to
me, what you did for your son, I get it. I’m not sure if I’d do the same, but I get why you did
it. Something tells me they often mistake your actions, things you do for their benefit because
you love them more than anything, don't you?”

Bruce couldn’t count the amount of times he’d made mistakes where his children were
concerned, but there were many instances in which it was easier to let them think the worst
either to not worry them, or to protect them. It was one of the reasons his relationship with
Jason was fractured, and no matter how much he longed to fix it, Bruce was willing to go
through any hatred and blame if it meant his son was safe. If all of them were safe.

“I do love them,” he replied, keeping an eye on the shortening line that would soon cut their
conversation short, “They don't need to like every decision that I make for their well being. I
too make mistakes, and I'm not trying to turn them into another version of me. I want them to
be better, to challenge me, even if I end up appearing worse”

Seconds before the valet opened the door, before they had to place their masks back on and
pretend they hadn’t come to a most unusual and unexpected understanding, Brooklyn said,
“For whatever it's worth, I don’t think you're a bad father. But maybe it's best to bring down
your walls around them once in a while, because I think that if they saw your humanity more
often and understood the reasons for your elaborate schemes…they might understand too.
Family…it's the most important thing in the world, don’t make crippling compromises for it”

As the door opened and a hand extended for the teen to take, Bruce used up the fleeting
seconds of loneliness to ponder if she might be right. He came to no immediate conclusion of
course, but he couldn’t deny that being told he was a good father had felt like a weight off his
own chest. One bestowed by a family enemy…who had the potential to be something more if
she and Damian dared to be better than all the predecessors before them.

Once upon a time, standing before his parent's graves, his first adopted son nursing a cup of
hot chocolate in the kitchen, Bruce had whispered words he’d never forget.
“I brought a young man -—a boy— to stay with me. He's…lost his parents at roughly the
same age that I…that I lost you. I don't know what will happen. I don't see myself as any sort
of father figure. But…I think I can make a difference in his life”

It had felt like a binding promise, one which he made again and again every time another
child in need came into his home. With his parents as his witness, it was probably one of the
most binding promises he would make. He’d sworn to make a difference in Damian’s life, no
matter how big a challenge that had seemed on those first days of the boy’s arrival.

Bruce would hold himself to that vow. He wouldn’t fail his son at a time of change and
challenge in which Damian might need him most. As for Brooklyn…maybe all this can make
a difference in another troubled child’s life as well.

Brooklyn POV-

Brook wasn’t entirely sure how she was able to keep her steps steady after the rollercoaster of
emotions she’d just suffered through. For a while there, Brooklyn had been genuinely afraid,
because if Mr. Wayne’s reaction to her secret had been any different; she might’ve actually
been stupid enough to confront the Batman about it.

Seeing as both of them had a no killing policy, it probably wouldn't have ended up that badly.
But it would’ve likely been like watching Bambi face off against Terminator. A verbal
bloodbath. That's what it would’ve been like if she’d tried to make an argument with
Damian’s dad about this relationship being a good idea. That was the thing, nothing about the
something more she had with Damian was rational or easy, and just as the man had said,
some people wouldn't be as understanding.

Yet there was something oddly comforting about having not just Bruce Wayne, but also
Batman in their corner. Better with them than against them that was for sure.

For a second there, Brook hadn’t been sure if she should thank the man profoundly for
looking past his beliefs, for making an exception to his hatred towards the Starks. Then that
panicked gratitude had turned into a burst of determination to prove she was worth that trust.
In the end, one emotion remained which was the numbness with which she walked with now.
Relief.

It appeared that hell itself was putting on a skating rink, because Bruce Wayne might’ve just
given her his blessing to date his son. She still couldn't believe it.

Unfortunately, whatever the mess in her head would have to wait to unravel. She had a job to
do today, and that was to show everyone at this lavish gathering that she was worthy of her
future position. Despite her brief moment of understanding with Mr. Wayne, Brook had no
doubt the man wouldn’t accept mistakes with her performance as his employee.

Now walking beside his looming form, Brook clutched a tablet against her hip as they passed
the various arches decorated with dropping greenery and a variety of flowers she was most
certain weren’t in season around here. Each arch was larger than the last, the delicate petals
of bell shaped flowers and long strands of lavender rising higher away from her as she
walked that cobblestone path on the top most floor of one of the tallest skyscrapers of Staten
Island.

Most in attendance probably had little to no clue that this hotel was owned by LexCorp, it
was one of the reasons why Brooklyn couldn't afford to lose her focus in case Cobalus
decided to try something.

That being said, despite being a secret evil mastermind, this elegant roof space was far more
beautiful than she’d wagered. Once beyond the welcoming arches, the rest of the space was
visibly divided into three sections; one containing the many tables for its hundred or so
guests, the middle being a massive dance floor with an onyx marble surface, and lastly a
section dedicated to various tables full of enough food to feed the entirety of Manhattan.

Beyond the decorated railings with twinkling lights and white roses, lay the view of a sea of
misty clouds. No other skyscrapers visible, not even the ground or the distant waters
surrounding the island. It could’ve been chosen as a way to show off wealth, or as a trap to
seclude its prisoners.

The security was relatively mild, by her count, there had to be no more than twenty guards
rotating along the perimeters of the event. Unless there were others masked as attendees.

At the sight of her and Mr. Wayne arriving, the masses of individuals dressed to the nines
took a second to take in the odd sight. A Stark serving as an intern for a Wayne. After all the
attention Brook was subjected to at school recently, it hardly bothered her, especially since
she’d done a thorough study of everyone in attendance.

Unlike the last times she’d attended social events of the like, this time Brook was thoroughly
prepared.

She let Bruce guide the way over to one of the small raised tables with elegant and towering
centerpieces of flowers sprinkled with golden embellishments and no chairs for them to sit
on. It seemed that at first no one was brave enough to approach Bruce, which she figured had
to be a common occurrence. There were times he played the role of the flamboyant and
careless millionaire, and other times he wore the mask of the cold and cruel businessman.

Brook wondered who would be brave enough to take the leap and guess which version he
was tonight.

When a servant offered them two flutes of champagne, Brooklyn reached over and grabbed
two flutes of simple ginger ale, handing one to her ‘boss’. At his raised brow, Brook
explained, “I’ve been told you don’t like to consume alcohol during such events in case of…
emergencies. But ginger ale is similar enough to champagne that you can pretend to be
intoxicated if it suits your needs to get answers”

Bruce was careful to keep his face impassive, but after seeing hints of what his amusement
looked like earlier, it wasn't difficult to spot traces of that now amidst his intense blue orbs.

The first few people that approached were older men and women, for those Brook’s help was
not needed. Bruce was a man of few words, but he always knew what the others were talking
about and had swift answers to their inquiries, knew enough about their companies to make
his own. Damian’s father knew how to charm and dissuade those old colleagues he must’ve
met many times before.

Those that were somewhere between Brook and Bruce’s age were the ones he wasn’t familiar
with, the people that as they approached, had her ‘boss’ sending her a quick glance so she
could summarize their profiles and intentions in the sole minute it took to reach them.
Surprisingly, he was much more easy going with those ‘youngsters’ than with the people
closer to his age, and with her notes, he was able to appear just as knowledgeable about them.

Brook had a feeling that it slightly unnerved everyone that he knew everything, their
thoughts, ambitions, their entire lives had been researched. Especially when Bruce provided
masked jabs under the guise of a joke.

No one that approached Mr. Wayne failed to greet her, which was surprising considering
she’d accepted her title of glorified assistant for the night, especially now that she knew at
least some of the man’s cruelty was to get her to learn the ways of being a CEO…and another
bit to keep appearances. Most that dared to approach her expressed their excitement over the
Stark Expo, something she figured dad would be pestered on for most of the duration of this
event. It was the highlight of this year, one of the most anticipated events not just for the
wealthy, but also for the common people.

Brooklyn seamlessly slipped into the role of company heiress, answering the inquiries thrown
her way in a manner that could’ve resembled throwing an object to see if she’d catch it in
time. A test. All of which she unapologetically passed with flying colors, though she almost
regretted that they’d arrived a little early. A lack of time could’ve avoided these
conversations.

Once the two were finally left alone and the gazes upon them had significantly lessened, she
dared to ask, “I get that you don’t trust more than a handful of individuals, but you reinforced
your mask with these people more than you do with those at Wayne Enterprises. Why?”

Bruce swirled the remainders of his flute absentmindedly as he explained, “I’m sure you’ll
come to understand this after a time on the job, but high society is full of people who aren’t
what they seem”

“You mean like heroes in metal armor and people with literal masks?”

“I mean that I haven't had the best experience when it comes to those that hoard wealth and
think themselves powerful beyond the chains of responsibility that come with it. It's why I
don’t trust people of those circles, nor do I care for their traditions…or most traditions in
general”

Brooklyn shifted her gaze to a nearby marble statue of the goddess Athena, one of many
themed decorations of gods around the venue. Athena had an owl perched on her stretched
out arm, one that was in the midst of flapping its wings, looking vicious and deadly. It
reminded her of a time she’d seen Damian sketching various owls along the edges of their
school notes, creatures he’d seen plenty of due to an old enemy.
A symbol of one of the many foes he’d faced before they met.

“You mean because of the Court of Owls?” she asked, keeping her voice quiet.

“Damian told you about that too?”

Bruce Wayne had granted her honesty earlier, and even if she was still weary he’d change his
mind, something told Brook feeding into his curiosity wasn’t the worst thing she could do.
Maybe it wasn’t just about getting to know things about her, about the relationship she
guarded. Bruce could very well be curious about learning things about his son through her,
things even his detective pursuits had not caught before.

“He tells me everything. We don’t keep secrets from one another, because there’s simply no
need to. Communication has always been key for us, it's one of the most vital things that got
us this far”

Bruce hummed in agreement, the ring on his finger glittering with the chandelier light up
above. It was the same ring Damian wore to the school dance the other night, a ring of which
she’d been told there were two of. One had always belonged to the patriarch of the Wayne
family, it was the one with the Wayne family crest edged in silver accents. The one Damian
had was meant for the heir of the family, it had been his father’s before up until that night
when he’d stolen it to make a point at school.

Brook wondered if Bruce thought his son worthy of it now, it was clear to her now that the
Batman had a different way to express his adoration than her own dad did. Where dad
resorted to gifts, embraces, the occasional joke on a sunny or gloomy day, or visible
support…Bruce Wayne was more subtle about it. He watched from a distance, protected at a
distance too. Yet he spared the one resource he was short of, one even the Batman could not
buy. Time. He used up all of his time to ensure his family was cared for, that despite living in
the crime city of the world, everyone was as safe as their professions would allow.

It's why she’d been given the green light to be with Damian, not necessarily because he knew
she cherished his son…but because it's what would make said son happy. Seeing all the man
had just revealed, the keen eye he had on all things, something told Brook that Bruce was
aware of the borrowed ring Damian had taken a few nights ago, maybe even the pearls he’d
placed along her neck, but he’d let his son take them anyways.

Bruce too was looking at the nearby statue of the goddess of wisdom and military victory,
regarding it with that keen eyesight that missed nothing.

“I suppose it's a good thing I can see past tradition, that I know the dark side behind it thanks
to the Court, otherwise you probably wouldn’t have been allowed to keep your date,” the man
murmured in what she was almost shocked to realize was meant to be a joke.

A joke from the Batman. The irony of it wasn’t lost on her.

For just a second, she wondered if telling Bruce about every detail they’d learned regarding
Cobalus would be of use. He wasn’t wrong in assuming high society couldn't be trusted, that
sometimes it was the wealthy that went out of control with their power. Lex was becoming a
problem, and as she spotted his figure at the other end of the room, busy buttering up the
guests with unheard jokes, she also pondered if it might just be easier to engage the enemy
now and spare the world more misfortunes like the Joker’s Day and the attack on Midtown.

Yet, Bruce was willing to play the long game for many things. His secrets were strategic to
stopping enemies, he’d proven as much with his knowledge of the Justice League’s secret
traitor. As much as some of her instincts roared to do something now while the man was
caught off guard, it would do little to help in the long game if his allies decided to continue
the work without their leader. In that sense, she supposed Bruce Wayne had granted her two
gifts today.

It wasn’t long after that her dad and Damian arrived, and though Damian looked anything but
pleased to be there, that couldn't be said about the two of them. Dad walked in with all the
swagger worthy of his name, and unlike the careful uncertainty of those that had approached
Bruce, clusters of individuals were drawn to dad’s easy-going smiles and bright personality.

Though she’d had to go back to her silent work of feeding Bruce information, she
occasionally snuck a glance their way. She and Damian had locked eyes almost immediately
as soon as he’d arrived, as if they had an internal compass that could guide them towards one
another. Damian kept to the script of their famed rivalry, shooting her a disgusted glower that
they both knew to be a softer greeting in disguise.

Damian had also spared a glance at his father before getting to work, and when she turned
back to face Bruce, he shot her a knowing look. As if it was now rather obvious to him what
was going on beyond the surface.

During one of her discrete glances towards Damian, dad had caught her eye. He’d shot her a
comforting smile, silently conveying his disagreement at her being tortured by the enemy…
asking if she was ok. Brooklyn had beamed his way to assure him all was well, though in
reality, she wanted nothing more than to stay by his side to spare Damian the discomfort.

It was clear that dad was testing Damian’s patience, though the teen never let it show.
Brook’s own bantering and distaste with Mr. Wayne didn’t sting as much knowing it was part
of an act. It became easier to deal with in time, to the point that she was begging to figure out
what kind of games most of these people liked to play.

The only time Brook left Mr. Wayne’s side during that opening ceremony was when Mr.
Osborn and Harry arrived. While the man —who certainly looked more exhausted than usual
— began exchanging casual conversation with Bruce, Harry had taken the chance to take her
out to the dance floor. Seeing as her friend wasn’t required to attend this event with his boss
Lex Luthor, she supposed he was growing bored already.

She’d humored his offer if only because he clearly had something to share. Something too
private to say around so many prying ears. Mr. Osborn didn’t seem to mind his son’s absence,
on the contrary, he encouraged the two to have a bit of fun.

Once the two settled into the basic square sequence of steps, she figured that after their stunt
at the dance, her friend might be glad for the simplicity.
Leaning down to whisper closer to her ear, Harry said, “Don’t mind my dad, but I think even
he’s under the impression we’ll end up together one day…probably because he’s waiting so
much energy trying to track down the Joker. He’s so delusional that he was the one that told
me to ask you to dance tonight. Curious as to why?”

Brook snorted. If the heroes hadn’t found the Joker yet, Mr. Osborn must be beyond
frustrated, he’d probably had less sleep than the rest of them by the looks of it.

“You know I’m curious. Why am I of interest to your father all of the sudden?”

Harry straightened, subtly pointing his gaze at the edge of the crowd where Lex Jr was
watching their movements while his father spoke to a large group behind him.

“Rumor has it Lex Jr has made his sentiments to court you quite seriously to his family. I
suspect he might try to do so tonight…that is unless this gala follows the fate of its
predecessors and something goes to shit. I even considered stealing my great grandfather's
gun in anticipation of chaos” Harry said as they stepped to the beat of the soothing melody,
“My father wanted me to try and ask you out first”

Well, that was problematic, but ultimately something she and the rest of their friends might
work to their advantage. Befriending the son to get closer access to his criminal father, it was
the job of a spy…just not one she was proud of, unless Lex Jr was in cahoots with his father’s
plans.

If the situation presented itself, she’d have to say yes to the baby Luthor.

She still laughed nonetheless, mostly at the lengths people would go to secure an alliance
with the Starks, sending their sons to try and woo her. How primal.

“Don’t worry, “ Harry said, voice mischievous, “I wouldn’t dare to ask even as a joke or to
tell my father I at least did what he asked. Messing with a certain someone is something no
one should take lightly. Plus, bro code and all that”

Brook rolled her eyes, but managed to sneak a glance at the other side of the room where
Damian was in the middle of a conversation, no doubt one testing his own possible worth as
heir. Still, his gaze occasionally turned back to her, eyes so intense she just knew he’d likely
heard Harry’s news already.

She supposed that Damian’s reputation as being unapproachable was rather convenient in
times like these, she doubted anyone here would dare suggest their daughters go get
humiliated by trying to ask him on a date.

“We’ll see if Lex Jr has the gall to ask,” she mused, “Regarding your safety, don’t worry too
much about it. As far as jaw dropping surprises go, I think tonights’ was already met”

That was thanks to Bruce Wayne…but she’d refrain from telling the others until Damian
knew about it first. Once they found a moment alone amidst their busy schedules, when they
were away from prying eyes and ears. All of what had occurred could not simply be
explained in five minutes.
After her dance with Harry resumed, Brook went back to her duties of glorified assistant, that
was until Cobalus himself took the stage. He was scheduled to make a speech seeing as this
was his venue, and though he’d clearly come tonight with the mask of millionaire CEO, a
part of her couldn't help but note this moment would be the time Harry had worried so much
about.

But she and her friends were ready for that, they’d exhausted their security efforts just for this
very moment. Because once the speech was done, people were free to leave if they so wished.
If Lex was planning something unsavory for today in front of all these people, now would be
the time to strike. But even the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

Brook made an even stronger effort to appear unconcerned seeing as she was standing next to
the all-seeing Batman. He may know one of her deepest secrets, but she wasn’t willing to let
another slip so easily. Damian wanted to keep his father out of the loop for the same reason
she did with hers…to keep them safe. She’d make sure of it.

Lex was just as the last time she’d seen him, though tonight he was devoid of his usual
‘unhinged’ persona, which she was beginning to think was a front much like Bruce’s playboy
klutz mask.

He tapped the mic a few times, then announced, “Welcome everyone to another great
gathering between old friends. The purpose of tonight was changed in light of recent events
as you all know. The Joker’s antics caused a lot of damage to our communities and cities,
which is why all proceeds tonight will go the citizens affected by it…a sum which LexCorp
will gladly match to give to those in need”

The crowd clapped, and even Brooklyn had to force herself to join in as if she didn't know
that extensive chaos was largely Lex’s planning. Sneaking a glance at her boss, Brook was
surprised to see Mr. Wayne was not too pleased. Either he knew something of the truth, or
much like Stark Industries, he didn’t like making a big deal of their own donations, they
never did. Because it wasn’t meant to be a publicity stunt to gain favor, but rather to help.

After a few more embellished words to convince the crowds of his generosity, many of the
guests began making their leave. Unfortunately for her, as she and Mr. Wayne were finishing
up their act with Maxwell Lord, someone approached, tapping her shoulder.

A part of her had hoped Damian would make an appearance under the guise of speaking to
his father, but he would’ve never been one to tap her shoulder. Mentally cursing the
circumstances of what she’d already assumed would occur, Brook plastered on a smile and
turned around.

Sure enough, Lex Jr stood there, clad in a loose tuxedo that didn’t fit him quite right. His
chestnut-colored hair was neatly combed back, those green eyes that looked too dull for
someone his age locked on her. Though the teen didn't appear nervous, something about the
way his father was intently looking their way made her feel observed…like a fish about to get
ensnared by a hook.

Like the first time they’d met, Lex Jr greeted her with a level of formality that wasn't
necessary. Before he could kiss her hand, she’d moved to shake his. It wasn’t her intention to
shake him off his game, but now that Bruce knew the truth of things, she couldn’t let the man
think she was being unfaithful when her plans were much more complex than she was willing
to share.

For that reason alone, she accepted Lex Jr’s offer to dance, leaving Mr. Wayne alone at their
table. The man surprised Brook by giving her an out, stating they’d be leaving in ten minutes,
a surprising kindness she thanked him for by hiding a smile behind her answering nod.

Once on the dance floor, Lex’s steps were rather unsteady despite his aristocratic background,
nothing like the easy flow that she was used to with Damian. Speaking of her demon, he was
busy shaking hands with a few of dad’s business partners who were clearly impressed with
his efforts. Yet as soon as he noticed the situation she was in, both of them shared a look of
defeat behind their usual glares. Defeat because they both knew what was about to happen,
but for reasons greater than them, there was no stopping it.

An unfortunate side effect would be that society would assume she and Lex might be together
after this, but even that was a small price to pay for stopping Cobalus. It still ached though,
not being able to dance with Damian without an empty area as witness, or a friend to serve as
a buffer.

Their secrecy was worth it though, Bruce hadn’t been wrong when he said her dad would not
approve of a Wayne and Stark being more than reluctant patrol allies. Though she’d have to
come up with a damn good reason as to why she accepted a date with Lex Jr.

A problem for later.

“You look radiant today,” was how Lex began this dreadful conversation, a compliment that
fell short to others she’d heard from her lover. Damian wasn’t exactly a poet, that wasn’t his
artistic outlet, but he could be romantic without even meaning to. Just by saying what was in
his heart and mind. He wasn’t the kind to tell someone what they wanted to hear, so the times
he’d made it known that he cared deeply about her…she knew he wouldn’t say so if he didn’t
mean it.

That night of the school dance when he’d presented her with a string of pearls instead of the
customary tradition, he’d whispered close to her ear, “I know what we have needs to be a
secret, that we’re forced to take these precautions. But even when centuries have passed and
the world has forgotten about us and the pathetic rivalry between our families that's keeping
us in the shadows, I’ll always remember the way you looked tonight. Secretly mine, someone
whose worth is infinitely more than these pearls, because only you can be trusted with
carrying my heart with you as well”

She knew what he’d meant then even if there was no immediate word for it, felt it now even
in the arms of another. When Damian said something, he meant it, full stop, and being privy
to that kind of reserved affection made her incredibly lucky.

“Thank you,” was all Brook could say, physically unable to return the compliment when
Damian was still in her mind, the words he’d dedicated to her and the actions that proved it.
It was difficult to pretend to be interested in someone when your complete loyalty was with
another, Brook quickly realized.
Luckily, Lex Jr didn't seem to notice.

“I know we’ve spoken of this in the past, but I thought it would be more prudent to ask you
on a date in person. I didn’t want to offend you by sending a bouquet of roses with a letter,
even if that is far more romantic than this,” he said, a faint blush across his pale cheeks.

Brooklyn didn’t care much for flowers, they quickly dwindled and died. Damian knew that
about her, which is why he gifted her weapons instead. Still, she couldn't help but mourn
Lex’s forgotten plan. If he’d sent the flowers, then no one here would have to know she’d
gone on a date with him.

Though it was difficult to voice, something her heart and mind wanted to refuse, Brook
remembered the mission and put the teen out of his misery. Not with the blades hidden within
her shoes, but rather with the words he wanted to hear.

“Would this weekend work? We can meet at the Stark Industries building at noon if you’d
like,” she suggested, strategically so for more than a handful of reasons he likely hadn’t
realized.

The teen before her nodded, a small smile blooming across his face. It would be a cold day in
hell when she admitted saying yes to that simple request made something within her panic.
She knew it wasn’t cheating on Damian if they were both in on the secret mission, but it still
felt wrong.

She hadn’t had the chance to voice her own thoughts to Damian as eloquently as he had. She
too wasn’t a poet, but she understood that what they had was something strong, a sentiment
that made her realize why so many people wrote songs about the mere possibility of that kind
of connection with someone. Even if the seas dried up and stones faded to dust, Brook knew
she’d be unwavering in her devotion. She now better understood the emotion couples had
often spoken of that she’d once dismissed as foolish, could tell why songs were written about
that kind of trust towards another…all because of him

Sneaking a glance Damian’s way despite just having agreed to a date with someone else, she
was reminded of how enigmatic this thing between them was. He wasn’t just looking at her
now, as always, he was seeing her. All of her.

It wasn’t what she’d expected it to be, but somehow he’d become the person that could snap
her out of nightmares themselves. A protector. A friend. A confidant. Brook was sure even
Bruce Wayne wouldn't be able to make sense of it all, that nobody around them would even
be able to realize what was behind their quick scowls towards one another.

Thanks to Mr. Wayne’s restraint of time, Brook quickly excused herself after plans had been
made, stating she might need a few of those ten minutes to use the lavatory to freshen up.
That had been enough of an excuse for Lex to let her go, and it granted her the fleeting
minutes she needed to process what she’d just done…all that had happened today for that
matter.

Staring into the bathroom mirror, beholding her elegant disguise and flawless complexion,
Brook almost wanted to laugh. How different that was to how she felt on the inside. She was
the kind to plan ahead, avoiding problems by trying to prepare for all the possibilities of what
could happen. Yet tonight she’d been caught off guard by two people.

First Damian’s father, now a murderer’s son.

Her mental clock indicated she had four minutes left, and though she was sure the time
restraint hadn’t been meant to be taken too seriously, there really was no use hiding in a
bathroom for that long. All Brook wanted was to get home, shrug off the finery, and pretend
today had been nothing but a dream until Damian was set to visit for tomorrow’s holiday
exemption from school.

When she exited the bathroom, Brook barely caught sight of a figure standing on the adjacent
wall before her instincts kicked in and she reached for one of her hidden weapons, a move
that was halted when she realized that person was Damian.

Before she could ask if something had gone wrong, Damian placed a finger to his lips before
dragging her down the hall, inside a dark janitor’s closet. It might as well be a common place
for them to hold private conversations after all the times they’d done so at Midtown, though
this particular space was infinitely cleaner at least.

Brook was getting ready to explain how the conversation with Lex had gone when Damian
quickly pinned her body to the wall. In a manner of seconds, his face leaned down to be at
level with her own, noses touching, breath intermingling. That's when she realized what he
was here for, not to discuss what had happened, to escape the masses…he was asking for
silent permission despite looking seconds away from losing his mind, still making sure she
wouldn’t pull away.

She had no such control, not after everything that had kept them apart lately.

Not bothering to waste any more of the three and a half minutes she had left, Brook leaned up
on her toes and captured his mouth with hers. Their kiss, unlike the others they’d exchanged,
was rushed and frantic but not devoid of the care they had for one another. It felt hungry, a
culmination of the…jealousy they’d both clearly had to deal with for days.

This was reassurance, a forbidden one at that, something they should’ve never risked when
all of the country’s aristocracy was a wall away. Their fathers were there. Her future date was
there.

Brooklyn couldn't tell when the kisses became even more hurried, when Damian’s hand had
reached to grab round the back of her thigh exposed by the slit on the side of her dress. Her
leg greedily wrapped around his waist, heel making contact with his lower back.

They only separated briefly to catch their breath, foreheads joined and small kisses traded
along their cheeks and jaw as Damian whispered, “How long do you have left till my father
comes looking?”

Brook did a mental count that was almost impossible with Damian this close to her,
peppering kisses along the bottom of her ear that sent her into a blinding bliss.
“Two minutes and twenty seconds,” she replied breathlessly, circling her arms around his
neck to bring him impossibly closer.

Damian briefly buried his face along the juncture of her neck, placing the first slow kiss
along the skin there, one that lingered with heartbreaking devotion.

“Good enough I suppose,” he whispered back, then went back to kissing her as he had before,
with an urgency she had a feeling had to do with other things than their time restraint.

Amidst the darkness, the two basked in the presence of one another, careful to be as quiet as
they could in case someone passed by. There would be nowhere to run if that were the case,
and aside from tainting their reputations by claiming they got into a fight at an event like
this…it would be pretty obvious what they were really doing.

Though she was the one who could summon flames, Damian’s touch was warm and electric.
It had her forgetting who she was or any of what had just occurred. That is until Damian
whispered against her lips, “He touched you…that imbecile touched you like he wanted
everyone in there to know how he felt”

He kissed her again, not giving Brook time to reply. His hand moved up her thigh all the way
to her waist, the place Lex Jr had been holding her while they danced. His fingers splayed out
along the covered skin there, soothing circles running along it as if he wanted to get rid of the
touch.

It might’ve looked silly, the two richest enemies sneaking into a mundane closet like
mischievous fairies in midsummer. Too lost in their affection to see reason.

Brook smiled at his antics, kissing him one more time before whispering, “Well, I’ve been
dying to kiss you since that brat from Gotham Academy blew you a kiss at the dance”

And that's what she did. She kissed him again and again until she knew she was cutting it
close to the time she was supposed to be back at. Until someone noticed two of the three
most prominent heirs in the world were missing. With only a minute left, Brook made sure to
pull his face closer, gently fisting his hair forwards until her own head hit the wall. That last
kiss was everlasting, it was energy, a touch of lips that stubbornly lingered to the point that
when Damian finally made to pull away, her own lips chased after his.

Then they stared intently into one another’s eyes, and perhaps because of what they’d just
done, the two shared a rare smile. They weren’t normally people that were pushed enough by
their own emotions to frantically seek one another like this…but because of that
understanding between them, a magnetic force stronger than any god or mutant power in the
world, those smiles turned into faint sounds of amusement.

This was new, Brook couldn’t help but think. Yet she’d liked it, enjoyed it a little too much if
she was being honest.

Forty seconds left…damn it.

 “You better show up at the apartment tomorrow, because aside from my missing you, we
have a lot to discuss,” Brook chastised as she fixed her dress back into place, taking out a
small mirror to make sure her lipstick was intact. After Bruce’s embarrassing revelation
earlier, she made a point to check Damian’s skin too for any traces of lingering red.

“About Lex Jr?” Damian asked while combing a hand through his onyx hair until it looked as
neat as it had coming into the closet.

Brook felt a shiver run down her spine, one of dread as she admitted, “About too many
things, I’m afraid. Urgent things”

Damian intertwined their hands one last time as they both moved to the door, peeking
through the small slits atop the door to make sure the coast was clear. Yet despite the ticking
clock, he made a point to kiss her knuckles before promising, “I’ll be there”

The promise of tomorrow made it easier to leave his side once they left the privacy of the
closet. Having looked at the plans of this building ahead of time, which Harry had so
graciously stolen during his internship hours with Lex Sr, Brook knew there was no evidence
of their stolen moment. No cameras nearby. Still, the two made a point to emerge from
different doors at different times just in case.

By the time she made it back to Bruce, ready to leave, the man raised a brow in suspicion.
His gaze shifted between her and Damian, making his inferences clear. Brooklyn couldn’t
help but try and hide her blooming blush behind the screen of her notes.

Parents had some kind of sin radar, she could almost bet on it. A part of her had considered
pleading her case by saying something along the lines of “It's not what you think”...but what
had happened was probably what the man was thinking.

Perhaps for her benefit alone, the man didn’t say a thing on the ride back to the Wayne
Tower. Aside from allowing her to date his son, that might’ve been the nicest thing Bruce
Wayne had ever done for her.

Chapter End Notes

I hope you all enjoyed that as much as I did!

Upcoming chapters will include an encounter with Ivan, some long overdue Dynasty
moments of peace, and even a little talk between Bruce and Damian that I'm sure you'll
all be excited for after reading this chapter.

Since the beginning of this series, I strived to have complicated characters that have the
capacity to evolve and change in ways befitting of their circumstances and everything
they're experiencing. There are so many hidden secrets I can't spoil at the moment, but
know that there is more underneath the surface of what you're reading. Moments like
Brook's power revelation that were hidden in plain sight are coming soon.
What I like to call 'The Wayne Arc' has just begun...
 A Day of Art and Rubber Bullets
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Damian POV-

The past two weeks had been as hectic as he’d expected (last night’s gala being the worst of
the lot). After witnessing so many large-scale disasters in Gotham throughout the years,
Damian was well aware that the subsequent days that followed were full of sleepless nights
and longer patrols. That being said, this was probably the first time it bothered him so much.

Normally, Damian basked in the extra workload. His philosophy had once been that the more
villains and crimes he stopped, the easier it would be for him to let loose of the pent up anger
and frustration within. Only now his efforts to get Gotham back on its feet had kept him away
from this apartment for too long. Suddenly it wasn’t fighting that brought him peace, it was
this.

Lazy mornings preparing breakfast at Brook’s, he clad in some casual wear he stored in the
spare room, his beloved still battling the dregs of the morning. When he and Jon had made up
the excuse of going to investigate a lead on a robbery in Queens so they could spend time
with who they really longed to be around, it was as if Titus had seen through the easily
constructed lie.

His dog had all but demanded to go with him, hadn’t stopped barking or biting at Damian’s
pants until he’d found his place in the passenger’s seat of Roscoe. Seeing as Titus would be
tagging along, Damian figured it had been a while since Goliath had seen Brooklyn as well…
he’d certainly been complaining about it more than Titus had.

Damian was certain the Dragon Bat missed Brooklyn’s warmth the most, he’d spent almost
every day within the fireplace in the manor’s sitting room. The spoiled thing even had the
gall to pout as he often did despite the fact that the flames within were just as warm as the
ones Brooklyn could summon. He’d checked.

Having rapidly grown to Titus’ size, Goliath had been placed in the trunk to accommodate for
his large vermillion wings. He’d growled the entire drive over, leaning over towards Jon’s ear
each time a new song came on until they’d arrived at the apartment complex. Even then
Damian had tried to be as discreet as possible when making it to Brook’s home without being
spotted. He supposed the extra precautionary efforts hadn’t been for naught. Goliath was
currently happily curled in the pile of blankets his beloved always had scattered on the floor
before the fireplace. She’d spoiled the creature senseless upon arrival with scratches and
smiles, and he supposed the same could be said about Titus.

Though Brooklyn often tried to obscure her excessive affections towards the Great Dane, this
time she’d all but knelt to wrap the happy dog into an embrace. Even now, Titus had been
permitted to sit in one of the table’s kitchen stools with little fuss. Though Damian knew
Brook had long since gotten into the habit of having a bit of dog food hidden deep within one
of her cupboards, Damian was a little startled to see three full bags had been purchased at
some point.

All of them being Titus’ favorite gourmet mix.

He supposed his pet wasn't the only one that had left their mark here. As always, his room
remained as organized as he’d left it, but the bundles of clothes within smelled of fresh
laundry, they carried the scent of her detergent with them…which he’d grown to relish in.
The adjacent bathroom still had all of his preferred products, the shoe drawers at the front of
the door had a secret compartment underneath for a few pairs of his own footwear, his art
decorated her living room, and there now lay two chairs behind the study’s desk.

Even now, as he finished chopping a few vegetables on his side of the counter, Damian never
ceased to be amazed by the humble simplicity of it all. Art that wasn’t his own, belonging to
Cassie Lang lay pinned on the refrigerator along with some of Harley’s best graded
assignments. It reminded him that there were photos of him pinned to the walls of her own
room, some of the few signs of him being her life that the two were willing to risk so out in
the open. Yet this particular kitchen had a few new additions of his from the past week, subtle
enough that no one would guess they’d come from the Wayne himself.

Damian had been trying his hand at pottery and sculpture making to expand his range of
creativity. It had been a suggestion from the Art Club instructor that proved to not be as
pathetic of an idea as Damian had originally thought it would be. Of course, he hadn’t let his
own family see his first attempts at the craft, nor had he bothered to show them the results.
Only one person outside of that classroom knew of this new hobby of his, and that was his
beloved.

As expected, she had not discouraged him from taking on the challenge, as ex-assassins, both
knew that it was important to have a mastery of various skills to succeed. For instance,
mastering one martial art was good to defend one self, but knowing all disciplines made
someone an undefeated adversary. That's what she’d reminded him of when the lessons
began, at least.

That is why, if one were to raid Brooklyn’s kitchen, they’d see a variety of mugs that
improved in quality over time. Each was more elegant than the last, except for that first
attempt that had ended up slightly lopsided on the right. It was deplorable, yet Brooklyn had
insisted on keeping it…and though a normal un-observant individual might not notice,
Damian noted that despite having the option to utilize some of his better attempts, she always
favored that faulty emerald mug on a daily basis during their morning video calls before
school.

Those that visited her apartment often, like Yelena or Peter HAD questioned the sudden
appearance of the odd collection, and every time it was brought up at school, Brooklyn
merely smiled and simply said she cherished each and every one of those handmade mugs.
Despite having expensive sets of lavish cups and mugs at her disposal, she defined those
seven made by Damian as her ‘fancy mugs for only the most special of guests’. Damian
wasn’t sure why, but every time he heard the words, his heart skipped a few beats.

Maybe he should get it checked out in case it was a health concern.

For today’s breakfast, two of those mugs would be used for their morning coffee, the
steaming liquid made extra strong after the chaos of the past few days. While Brook was
busy flipping pancakes, Damian didn’t know what came over him, but after reflecting on the
delicate oddities of this safe haven, he moved to stand flush behind her, wrapping his arms
around her middle just atop the band of her sweatpants, and leaning down to rest his jaw atop
her head.

Brooklyn chuckled at the action, placing one of her arms along the length of his own, running
soothing circles with her thumb over the long since healed scars atop the skin of his forearm.
Some of them were from battles she’d witnessed, others from years past.

“Long night?” she asked, voice tired this early in the day with hints of the Russian accent
she’d been born with.

Damian made a sound between a groan and a tired sigh, “As soon as I made it back home
after a long performance review in your dad’s office, I had to join my brothers for patrols,”

The pancake before her was flipped with ease.

“Meaning you and Tim are getting along? Haven't heard you complaining much about him
since his help during the Scarecrow’s attack”

He and Drake had…come to an understanding. An unspoken one at that. Damian had come
to realize that perhaps there was more to him than his annoyance and past their quarrels, that
despite their constant bickering and avoidance, Drake had never actually left him to deal with
things on his own. It's not like he was ready to spend an afternoon with the man, they
probably had little in common, but Damian was at least willing to keep any unsavory
comments to himself.

Drake’s involvement during the Scarecrow’s attack had helped keep his friends and his
beloved safe, which in itself was worth a lot to Damian. Even if he hadn’t voiced it like that.

“Peace is a fickle thing, beloved,” he explained, “It may or may not be a permanent
arrangement, I’m still not sure”

Basking in the warmth of her skin the tank-top she had on provided, Damian took a second to
recognize that just as he was being honest with his thoughts, she was letting her guard down
with him too. He could feel and see the ridges of the long scars and circular bullet wounds
across Brook’s back, the handcuff scars along her wrists that were normally obscured by
bracelets or her watch.

It had been a while now since she didn’t bother hiding her skin from him, the signs of injuries
past that often tempted Damian to pay a visit to Ivan the Great and instill some of his own
across the man’s skin. But he knew that wouldn’t change the past, which is why Ivan
remained unharmed. For now.

While he ran a hand along one of the scars along the circumference of the arm placed atop his
own, Brook mused tiredly, “I suppose that's progress in itself. At least that's a semi-normal
goal to strive towards nowadays, peace between brothers”
Damian wasn’t sure it would all go by unscathed, not when he and…Tim had a habit of
challenging one another.

“It's not my fault his inadequacy is an ever evolving subject for scrutiny,” Damian muttered
bitterly, though he was surprised he felt no satisfaction with blurting out the insult. At this
rate, Damian would be trading Christmas cards with Todd and sharing gossip with Brown…

Damian felt Brook’s brief chuckle reverberate across her stomach. When she leaned her head
back against the lower part of his shoulder, he felt her gaze on him almost instantly. It was
unusual to see such admiration of a gentler sort directed his way, the manner in which her
eyes shone at the very sight of him near was a comfort he hadn’t yet grown accustomed to.

It made him realize that being feared was nothing compared to being seen.

This peace he’d taken to indulging in had never felt as if he’d given up his old life, setting
down his weapons in favor of a mundane existence as some often described. For him, for
them, it felt like they’d combined their might to fight any conflict that came their way if only
for these peaceful stolen moments. It was a coexistence of both concepts. In a way, Damian
figured that was adequate for who they were as people. As heroes more like.

That smile of hers, the one she shot up at him just now, it made him a selfish creature to want
to see more of that. He supposed that was the problem with wanting things, it was an itch that
just kept growing. He didn’t just want to see Brooklyn’s smile across her mouth when she
beheld him, but also in her eyes, the kind he gave her after a successful day of patrols…the
kind she had on now.

When Damian raised a brow in question, his beloved whispered, “What’s got you so focused
when you look at me? Won’t you relent a smile for me?”

He didn’t realize, or perhaps he sometimes forgot, that Brooklyn craved the little things as
much as he did. Damian was subconsciously more reserved about those than she was, but in
that moment in which the two were finally alone, he accepted her request with little fuss.

The tilt of his lips came easier than normal, and when one of her hands reached up to touch
his developing dimples, he heard Brooklyn sigh out in what could be interpreted as relief.

“I was just thinking that people are difficult to deal with, be it friend or foe. Not you though,
at least not anymore than you’re not tackling me down to the football field with every intent
to destroy me”

Brooklyn let out a loud chuckle at the memory of the fight that had granted them a most
unusual punishment. One he found himself not looking back on too poorly nowadays, not
when their forced teamwork might’ve led to this.

“To be fair, you were also throwing a few punches there too! The embarrassment of the
aftermath of that day almost killed me for a second. If you really did consider another fight to
the death like back at the Compound, I don’t think my poor heart could stand it…then our
relationship would be over” his beloved said amidst her laughter. At which his smile grew by
instinct alone.
“Its amusing that you think perishing can get you out of this relationship”

Brooklyn stuck her tongue out like an infant, “With your kind of stubborn attitude, it
probably wouldn't. Though I suppose I wouldn’t have it any other way”

While Brook was distracted staring at him, mouth agape and a teasing glare in place, Damian
reached around her for the spatula and flipped the pancake before it burned. Hearing the mix
sizzling again, Damian leaned down to whisper against her ear, “Having our parents show up
that day was an unfortunate side effect. If we weren’t on thin ice with the principal, I
would’ve suggested we try and engage in a few fights here and there to keep up appearances”

“You mean so we can spend time together in detention? Unbothered” she teased back, and
Damian was hit with the sudden urge to lean down so that their lips might meet again. If he
did so, there was no guarantee their poor breakfast wouldn’t burn from negligence, which is
the only thing that kept him from advancing.

He had plans for today, risky, perhaps idiotic, plans. After already crossing so many lines
with her; going to the dance together, stealing kisses at a gala…the tempting realization that
nothing had gone wrong yet after doing so made Damian bold. It was like a voice in his head
constantly whispered that they could get away with more, that maybe he could give Brooklyn
that kind of relationship others took for granted while still keeping their secret.

If the voice was the devil on his shoulder, he supposed it must sound like Jason. The problem
was that the conscience on his other shoulder was for once in his life easily swayed. A
dangerous combination.

“Using detention to hide from the world would hardly be the most selfish thing we’ve done,”
Damian argued gently, keeping his arm wrapped around her middle, as if urgently begging
her to stay this close to him. To keep the spell of ignorance going.

Something about his words must’ve been the wrong thing to say, because Brooklyn’s face
shifted into a kind of panic he hadn’t seen often when they spent time together like this. It
was almost as if she’d remembered something, which he assumed might just be a plan to
engage Cobalus...but then she turned off the stove and turned to face him, his arm now
around her lower back.

There was something cautious amidst her chocolate-colored eyes, an urgency that hadn’t
been here before. Titus must’ve seen it too, because Damian could hear the sounds of the dog
jumping down the stool behind him. It wasn’t long before Titus settled himself beside them,
head looking up at them almost like he expected bad news or a fight.

“What is it, beloved?”

Brook shook her head, a dry chuckle escaping her as she explained, “With you here, being all
distracting, I’d almost forgotten there was something we needed to talk about. It's something
that happened at the gala, or rather before it”

Damian’s blood chilled, expecting to hear something about his father’s deplorable behavior.
She’d kept her composure the entire time, even when Lex’s pathetic son had taken her out to
the dance floor, but Damian knew better than most that Brooklyn had just as much experience
as him hiding her true feelings. If father hadn't been so busy lately, Damian might’ve
strategically tried to pry answers out of him just to see how much his beloved had to deal
with. To wage how irreparable the damage was.

Only Brooklyn wasn’t frowning, didn’t even look as if she were about to start one of her rants
about his father. Her hands shifted atop his arms, fisting the fabric of his black t-shirt like a
lifeline.

“I spoke to your father before the gala,” Brooklyn admitted, “I’m not sure how to break this
to you properly, not when it still makes me feel dizzy just thinking about it. Actually, I don’t
think there’s even a way to do so that won’t cause you a mild heart attack”

His arms tightened around her, bringing her body closer to his own. Damian wasn’t sure why,
but he was suddenly overpowered by the realization that his father may have said enough that
Brooklyn might not deem being associated with his family worth it. Maybe she’d quit her
internship, or perhaps he was quitting what the two had altogether.

That was enough to instill the kind of fear reminiscent of that of his brief loss of mind due to
the Scarecrow's gas. Damian had already been in the midst of placing his mask on that day,
but all it took was a wisp of smoke to reach his nose to temporarily trap him amidst his most
troublesome nightmare. That day, Damian had expected his dead grandfather to make an
appearance, only the illusion he saw was that of his entire friends and family dead…even
Jason, even Tim, even Harry Osborn. They’d all had carved smiles on their faces, stretching
so unnaturally wide it almost looked like they’d had been cut in half.

The Joker had been there, crowbar in hand, and Damian had been tied down while his own
guts hung out of his skin. The pain…that he hadn’t felt, but being unable to reach any of
those he cared about had felt like a knife to the heart. A failure.

It was as his consciousness slowly came back with each steady breath of the clean air and
antidote that his mind had swirled with not just the Joker’s laugh…but his words as well.
That clown had said something about father turning in Brooklyn to try and save Damian, a
failure of a plan considering everyone was dead in his vision, but the words had lingered.

Especially now.

Moving a hand to smooth down the worry lines along his forehead, Brooklyn looked almost
apologetic as she began an impossible tale. One where Bruce Wayne did something none of
his ancestors had likely ever deemed possible. Father had both forgiven and accepted a Stark,
but that wasn’t all…he’d accepted this, Damian and Brooklyn being together.

The words themselves felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. They had Damian
wondering just how awake his beloved was to say such things with the occasional
disbelieving chuckle or faint smile on her face.

He was…dismayed. There was no other word to describe what he felt. Instead of his arms
going slack against his sides, they tightened around Brooklyn as the tale went on, detailing
everything his father had said and done.
It couldn't be real. There was no way that was possible.

In the end there was only the crackling of the fireplace, the faint music across the kitchen…
and the mystery hanging between both teenagers.

“You’re lying, aren’t you?” was the first thing he could say on the matter, unable to think past
the possibility that this was just some elaborate jest.

“We both know I’m incapable of lying to you, or rather that I choose not to”

He knew that of course, that had always been their agreement from the start. Beside, for all
her growing efforts to joke with him, all jests referring to his family had always been
reserved in reference to his siblings, if at all. Bruce Wayne had never been a topic of
amusement for either teen, especially once their internships began.

“I wasn’t sure he was serious, but the fact that he knew a lot of what we’ve done and didn’t
immediately demand I stay away from you had me listening,” Brooklyn said, gaze downcast,
“Then I really let it stew last night, and realized there really was no profitable angle for your
father to play this game. I’m sure he means it…that at least from him, we have nothing to
worry about”

Damian wasn’t sure he could feel his own face, his body was locked against hers, unwilling
to let go in fear father was lurking amidst a dark corner ready to get rid of his beloved.
Perhaps not in the manner he’d seen in that cruel imagery from the gas, but Damian feared
he’d be taken away to another continent to ensure neither had contact with one another from
now on.

Yet the longer a figure didn’t appear to dispel their peace, when Brooklyn’s arms wrapped
around his neck and her bare feet pushed her up to meet his forehead with her own, he
couldn't deny that this was real. Batman was capable of biding his time when dealing with
enemies, but when it came to his family, the man rarely took chances.

Though Damian longed for nothing more than to keep close to her, he shifted his face away,
frowning at the pancake on the pan behind his beloved as if he suspected it might try to
escape from the pan. To attack.

It was in his nature to be distrustful. It was a habit as Bruce Wayne’s son to believe the man
wouldn’t think to look at things from Damian’s perspective enough to shrug off a centuries
old prejudice in his name. Damian had underestimated the detective once, had let too much of
his comings and goings slip, and he was adamant to not let it happen again.

Not for his sake, but for Brooklyn’s.

“What if it's a trap?” Damian found himself whispering skeptically, “Father could be
planning a larger retaliation if we let our guard down”

Brook shifted his gaze back to her own, eyes locked onto his as she chided, “I’m telling you,
it didn’t seem like it”
“You don't know him like I do, he’s cunning and patient” Damian insisted as Titus barked his
agreement beside them, “Not to mention he’s been keeping tabs on us behind my back”

That had to be it, a lure from the Batman to try and get them to falter. Brooklyn was a public
figure, a child of the Avengers as much as the Starks, not to mention currently considered a
hero with or without the mask. If father wanted her far from Damian, he’d have to be discreet
about it, take the long way around to create circumstances for which the two would have to
part without his involvement taken into account.

It would’ve been a more successful plan if he hadn't said a thing to Brooklyn. Damian knew
better than to think his father would let such a large mistake slip. Even in the midst of a
dozen wars and responsibilities, father was not one to let the weight of those assignments
crush him into such foolish planning.

“Dami,” Brooklyn whispered softly, the tips of her warm fingers caressing his jaw in a
soothing manner, “if that's all you think your dad is, then you don't know him entirely either.
I’ll admit, that was probably the first long and ‘decent’ conversation I’ve had with the man,
but even someone without proper eyesight could see that he cares about you. I’d know what
that looks like, obviously, I care about you too”

Damian sighed. As if Brook knew he wanted nothing more than to step back and grab his
katanas for a long training session to get rid of the pesky cloud of confusion over his mind,
she gave him that space by taking a step back, a bridge between them for him to breathe.
Whereas a younger Damian would’ve loved nothing more than to part from physical contact,
that was no longer one of his qualities when it came to his beloved.

Her touch had been the only comfort gripping him to the reality of this situation, which is
why he closed the distance between them again almost as soon as they’d parted. His hands
clung to the bare skin of her back, tracing along the ridges and wounded skin there. Damian
kept her close, ignored the instincts to go find a fight out in one of the crime-filled streets of
the city in favor of doing what any sane adult would do. Process what had been said.

Brooklyn’s own muscles seem to sigh with with relief at their re-established contact, like she
too needed the support to work through the information they’d been given. Or maybe
defending Bruce Wayne had been a taxing effort.

The more he thought about it all, the more Damian realized the news of his father knowing
and respecting his forbidden relationship was just as odd as the thought of his father caring
about him as much as Brooklyn implied. When he’d made a bitter joke about it, he felt Brook
shake her head against his chest.

“The fact that he’s willing to overlook my being a Stark just at the small chance that it makes
you happy says otherwise. My dad is the best father I could've hoped for, and I care about
him with every ounce of my being, but I’m not sure even he would make such an exception
for me. The fact that your dad made the effort and kept the secret speaks volumes of just how
much he cares. I told him as much” his beloved said as the flutes and strings of the song
cascading around them slowed to a mellow beat just as his heart was.
Despite the quite possibly gargantuan issue before them, Damian dared to mock, “You want
to give Batman counseling sessions? Ingenius. Let's allow Bruce Wayne to get over his
mountain load of troubling mental conflicts…then there can be no more Batman! Gotham’s
crime world will win my city over in no time”

Brook looked up at him, rolling her eyes before shifting around to turn off the other stove
behind her with the eggs, their food long forgotten. Glancing down at the dutiful figures of
both Titus and Goliath standing beside them, ready to defend or attack whatever troubled the
two humans, she smiled. At least Damian had no doubt both loyal creatures would even dare
fight the Batman if need be should things go south.

“First of all, I’m not counseling him. It's just…no matter how strong, smart, or powerful your
father is, I could tell he’s a man drowning in regrets when it comes to you…maybe all of
your siblings for that matter” she said, “Would it be so horrible if we gave him the benefit of
the doubt now? We’ve trusted others before and their help has made things infinitely easier
for us”

Damian hated to admit it, especially when he’d been so sure of the point he was making
earlier, but there was a reason he and his beloved were equals beyond strength and skill. She
was just as intelligent as he was…only they sometimes beheld the same scenery from
different viewpoints. She challenged him to think beyond what his mind stated as
unquestionable truths. Frankly, that was one of the things he cherished the most about her.

Even without knowing what father had looked like when Jason was thought dead, the dread
in his steel eyes when a mission went sour and they were all separated…she had already
pinpointed there was something withering within his father’s heart. Something Damian often
took to ignoring despite not being as ardently against Bruce as Todd.

That wasn’t his responsibility to fix, but perhaps for this something more with his beloved, he
could acquiesce to a reluctant level of good faith that his father wouldn’t shove Brooklyn into
a satellite and send her to space. Even if father was lying, no matter what the plan was,
Damian would not be so easily separated from Brooklyn Stark.

Still, one crucial inquiry remained in his mind. One he couldn’t make sense of.

Keeping his arms wrapped around her, Damian stated, “He said such horrible things to you
all this time. How can you forgive so easily?”

He heard rather than saw his beloved’s laughter as the stove was turned back on, its
comforting heat enveloping them both.

“Well, he said those things for the same reason we have to pretend to hate one another at
school, and I know what it's like to pretend for the sake of our relationship. Besides, I didn’t
even tell him we were…together. He already knew, and he could’ve easily disposed of me in
that limousine, but he didn’t”

The words reminded Damian of his own experience before the gala, one he’d rather not
share, much less recall. It had felt like the final nail on a coffin, the last fleeting hope of any
open future with Brooklyn vanishing until the news of his father’s own thoughts had eased
the lid open once more. That didn’t change the fact that Anthony Stark had every plan to
keep the two teens separated once this conflict with Cobalus was over.

Seeing as they weren’t the type to keep secrets from one another no matter now sour, Damian
pipped in, “Your father, on the other hand, threatened me to stay away from you as both
Robin and Damian once this mess is over, and I’m not sure he was putting up appearances”

As Goliath moved to wind around Brook’s legs like a mischievous feline seeking the warmth
of the fire she often kept at bay, one of her hands that wasn’t flipping a new pancake moved
to snake atop his own arm still resting atop her stomach. It was a soothing gesture, a silent
apology.

“Of course he did. Dad’s still working on accepting Yelena’s love life, so even if we set aside
you being a Wayne, I'm not sure my dad could handle another of his kids keeping secrets
from him like that”

Jon had said something about slowly working to earn Iron Man’s trust, his own concern that
despite the granted blessing, the man might one day change his mind. Though the current
social opinion in the country was targeted towards the hate or acceptance of mutants, Jon
feared his status as a literal alien might be a point of vexation in the future with the Starks.

He’d heard the times Brook had assured him she was in his corner, that her mom and Harley
likely would too. Damian on the other hand, would receive no such help from any member of
that enemy family save for Yelena. But aside from the dangers and frustrations that caused
him, Damian figured it might be worse for Brooklyn.

“You hate it, don't you?” Damian asked, gesturing to himself, then every inch of the walls
protecting their secret from the outside world that may very well be nothing but a gilded cage
of sorts, “Keeping this truth from him?”

Brook smiled up at him sadly, the kind of smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“From all of them actually. I trust the Avengers and my parents with my life…it's unfortunate
I can’t trust them with a piece of my heart”

Something about that admission had Damian’s mind made up at last. What would’ve been
nothing but a simple suggestion was now set in stone as their plans for today. It may be
foolish to test how much they could get away with, especially with someone new knowing
their secret, but if they couldn’t tell others about what they felt…Damian would be damned if
he let it constrict their lives to the point of suffocation.

Much like the day of the school dance, Damian was overcome with the frustration that they
couldn’t do as they wished even if the two weren't exactly desperate to do as normal couples
did. That didn’t mean Damian didn’t long to dance with her before everyone who sought her
attention, that there weren't places he longed for them to see together.

After their pancakes, eggs, and toast were served and the two settled on the kitchen table with
handmade mugs in hand and the two animals seated across from them with their own food…
Damian took one last steadying breath around the rim of his steaming coffee, convincing
himself a risk here and there wouldn’t be the end of it all. After almost losing one another,
Damian was willing to take more of those if it meant less regrets.

He hadn’t intended for it to come out as a command, but that's exactly what it sounded like as
he told Brooklyn they’d be going somewhere together after this. The level of trust Brook had
on him probably couldn’t be adequately described with mere words, but when she simply
considered silently for a few seconds and then nodded, he felt it with all its intensity. Instead
of pestering on the location of their destination or stating the thousands of reasons it might be
a bad idea, Brooklyn simply suggested they find adequate attire to hide their faces from the
public, and unfortunately leave the two pets before them who were already halfway done
with their gourmet breakfast.

Those two spoiled things would most certainly not be happy at being left alone for a while.
Something that proved to be true when the barking and growling began as he and Brooklyn
slipped out the fire escape rather than the front door.

Just because they were engaging in stupid decisions didn’t mean they’d be completely
careless.

Having memorized the way over days ago, Damian and Brooklyn made their way along the
streets of Queens hand in hand. Their baseball caps and sunglasses didn’t look out of place
during that sunny morning, no one spared the two teens an extra glance as they weaved
through the city they normally traversed higher above with masks. They’d both made sure to
wear the spare clothes they’d bought weeks ago, attire neither of their families or friends
knew of, that they’d never been seen wearing, just to ensure further secrecy.

Damian wasn’t fond of the red leather jacket mostly because of the flamboyant stitched
dragon on the back, nor did he enjoy the sight of the worn sneakers visible at the ends of his
jeans. It made him feel like a commoner. He supposed that at least Brooklyn might be happy
with the extra spots to hide her daggers and weapons amidst the looseness of her ‘work out’
attire, a matching sports set.

One quick peek at the two of them amidst the reflective window of a passing business at least
had Damian admitting that at least the two would never be recognized like this. Perhaps not
even their friend would think they looked familiar if they were passing by.

Leading the way towards the historical district of the city, a rectangle-like gathering of
various museums and theaters with domed roofs and ancient walls with a park and fountain
depicting the original Avengers at its center, the two teens slipped undetected into the newest
building of the cluster.

Handing over his pre-paid tickets, Damian kept Brooklyn’s hand amidst his own as he
directed them inside the cathedral-like space made of white marble, its high roof decorated
with stained glass. It was impressive work, complex craftsmanship depicting the battles
between angels and demons of which Damian couldn’t find himself believing in. There was
good and bad within every individual here, he knew now they weren’t separate entities but
rather coexisting parasites within a person’s mind. He and Brooklyn were working on letting
go of the advice of their darker selves, and a part of his efforts in doing so was here.
Behind the circular rims of her sunglasses, Damian caught sight of his beloved’s raised brow
at the sight of the giant banner hung atop the curved entrance atop them.

Charity Exhibition for the Orphans of the World

Damian had chosen this particular occasion for an outing for more than one reason. The first
being that the two had never had a proper date outside of life-threatening situations. Damian
didn’t mind spending those moments if it meant they dealt with them together, but even he
could see that a more traditional outing could do them some good.

Besides, there was little harm in risking a proper date if only once…though Damian
should’ve done a better job of stating that's what this outing was. Brook’s blinding smile had
him realizing she probably knew already. This outing wasn’t to gather intel, to defeat an
enemy or to aid their efforts to stop Cobalus. This was for them and them only.

Still, Damian swallowed his pride as he guided them up the winding steps on the left side of
the entrance that led to the second floor where the masses of individuals were significantly
lighter. It's where every wall was filled with framed art upon individual spotlights.

“I figured that if our first proper date was planned around my tastes, it should be in favor of
something you care about,” he explained, gesturing towards the hundreds of paintings
awaiting them, “Each of these will be sold for thousands of dollars, some millions, and all the
proceeds will go to orphanages across the country and in other places in need”

Brooklyn eyed the sea of color before them as if she hadn’t seen something of its kind before.
He supposed she hadn’t, not when none of their friends fancied art and Brook had expressed
she’d never strayed from her strict routines of school and work in years prior. That was the
other reason he’d invited her.

His beloved already saw a lot of who he was, and though she’d seen and liked his art,
Damian had wanted her to behold the best of what his passion had to offer. It was a slice of
who he was, a window into his soul. The idea itself of taking Brook to this particular
exhibition had stemmed off the time he’d seen her ballet dancing for the first time at the
Compound, a private hobby of her own she’d developed in the Red Room…but seeing her
gliding to the beat of the song almost as if she were floating on air, he’d known even then that
it was something not many got to witness.

Damian might be foolish in hoping today would reciprocate that feeling, at the very least he
wanted Brooklyn to know that every crevice of who he was…all of it was hers to witness.
They’d do so little by little, he had no rush when the prospect of many years to come was
partially what they were fighting for so ardently,

This time it was Brooklyn that took the initiative and led them towards the first painting to
their right, a depiction of a starry night sky amongst snowy hills. Though he hadn’t planned
to say a thing, letting Brooklyn absorb the art as her mind saw fit, he couldn't help but
provide information for which her curious ears were clearly interested in hearing.

As they walked leisurely from painting to painting, Damian spoke of the different paint brush
strokes used, the inspiration some artists derived from, and for the paintings of famed artists
of his liking…he could even offer the story behind each piece. Some tales weren’t pretty,
drawing strength and emotion from misfortunes and tribulations of the maker’s past. Others
almost felt like a breath of fresh air in comparison, those that depicted the best aspects of
humanity and the world they lived in. Things that anyone with a vision for a better future
would feel the need to paint and share.

He’d expected Brook to get tired of it all after a while, for the novelty of it all to lose its
beauty. But no matter how much time passed, Brooklyn still beheld each piece as if she
wanted to commit it to memory, asking following questions on the information he provided
when there was something she didn’t particularly understand.

The sight of her smile, the shimmer in her eyes, it felt like medicine that quelled the
tribulations within his mind from that morning. Though Brooklyn had no expertise on the
matter of art, nor would she ever likely pick up a paintbrush, it felt as though the two were
connecting in a sense. That was enough to temporarily forget the two weren’t ever meant to
be here together.

For now, they were just a boy and girl out on a date, surrounded by clueless civilians too
absorbed in the art to behold the incandescent beauty that was his beloved in that moment
even with the confines of the disguise.

It was as they moved to one of the adjacent rooms lit with natural light from up above rather
than relying on lamps and spotlights that Damian felt the urge to guide her somewhere else.
This was the section of the exhibition for artistry of highest demand. The signed works of
famous artists from around the world were displayed here behind glass cases. It was probably
the busiest section of the massive four-floor exhibition.

As they passed arm in arm, Brooklyn suddenly stopped before a painting of a sunset atop
expansive fields of wheat with particular interest. The art style itself was a blend between
Post-Impressionism and Impasto. Everything from the clouds to the distant guardian-like
mountains off in the distance were done in a way that the paint was purposefully laid on
thickly to simulate a 3D effect. What made it different from any paintings around here with
similar art styles was that the artist had chosen a bold and ‘forbidden’ approach of using
acrylic, oil, and gouache paints in a way that almost looked harmonious without the
unfortunate side effects of mixing different kinds of substances like that.

It was careful work, one that required intelligence and planning as much as it did talent.

When Damian explained as such, ready to move on to the next painting, Brooklyn’s arm kept
him in place. Damian, puzzled as to why she refused to continue, leaned down slightly only
to behold the unexpected awe in her expression.

It almost looked as if she wanted to do without the confines of the glass before it, her free
fingers stretching out as if to touch it.

“This art, it's you, isn’t it?” she breathed out.

Damian wasn’t sure how she’d figured it out so easily amidst the hundreds of paintings
they’d already looked at. He’d been sure not to give anything away, in fact, Damian had
planned not to mention his own work was here to begin with. It would’ve been enough for
her to just quickly glance at it. Yet somehow she’d figured it out all on her own, and the
reverence in her brown eyes while beholding his work had his breath hitching slightly.

He’d sold many of his paintings in probably over a dozen galleries, but this would be the first
in which his work would serve a charitable cause. It's why he’d risk bringing her here,
because aside from showing Brooklyn a piece of his soul, he wanted to experience this first
with her.

It was, in fact, due to her own influence his work was even here in the first place.

Brooklyn’s tales of the past, her cruel depictions of what her life had been like as an orphan
in a communal building before she was adopted, the way the system could be cheated at the
expense of the lonely and defenseless kids…it had struck a chord in him. More than that, it
was a matter that required justice, and who better than to aid that Damian himself. Even when
he’d never been an orphan himself, others beyond the tales of his beloved had also made the
decision all the easier to relent to.

Yelena, Harley, Peter…his own siblings. Damian knew their own tales, some only to an
extent, but enough to know there was a certain luck in having parents that cared. Maybe
Damian didn’t approach the problem of abandoned kids as his own father had for years, by
adopting troubled strays, but he could provide money in a discreet manner this way to aid the
cause.

Speaking of discreteness, Brooklyn leaned forward in that moment, not bothering to wait for
his admission of the truth as she read the golden signature at the bottom corner of the work.
He could practically hear the questions buzzing inside her head, and though Damian knew
he’d never deny his beloved intel, it wasn’t entirely with the intent to stall that he inquired,
“How were you able to tell?”

Brooklyn straightened, smiling up at him as she murmured, “I may not know a thing about
art, but I know you”

That she did. This outing had by no means been a test of any sort, but it was an unexpected
surprise…maybe even a reassurance and kindness Damian had never experienced before. It
was a frightening thing to know someone could see each bit of who you were, even more so
to display it by will. But when Brooklyn did it, the Wayne only felt relief. In that moment,
Damian thought he might’ve given her the world if she asked.

Shuffling closer to his side without taking her eyes away from the art they’d silently coveted
for themselves to enjoy, Brooklyn finally asked, “What's the alias supposed to mean? Have
you always had it…or did it stem off something recent?”

Damian shrugged, “I developed it when I was young, when I realized I wanted to buy myself
a car but didn’t want the media's attention by selling my painting so publicity”

He still recalled those days of his early youth in Gotham that he hadn’t quite appreciated at
the time. Damian remembered the crashing of the Batmobile, his stubbornness when it came
to handling father’s restrictions from then on.
Painting had been something his family members had been aware he’d been dabbling in, but
none had ever seen his work. In fact, the first to see it had been Grayson. Though he’d never
admit it, his brother’s high praise (though expected) had pushed Damian to want to continue
with the hobby, perhaps even perfect it. It had been the healthiest obsession he’d had at the
time, a way to ‘connect’ with his deceased grandmother and continue where she left off after
her death.

But if he was being honest, the true catalyst that had not only guided him to the craft but also
encouraged him to continue had been Grayson.

Ignoring the faint heat pooling along his cheeks, Damian kept his posture pristine and his
stance strong as he admitted quietly so only his beloved might hear, “Did you know that the
alias Nightwing derives from a bird native from Krypton, Superman’s planet? Nightwing and
Flamebird creatures were considered gods amongst their kind, birds famous for always
seeking each other’s companionship despite being different species. A Phoenix is a synonym
for Firebird…and considering it was Grayson’s devious planning that introduced me to art, I
figured it was only fair to honor that by taking up the name of another kryptonian bird”

Phoenix. That had been his alias in the world of the arts for almost five years. Damian was
well aware most thought he was some fifty-year-old man who hadn’t been successful in his
youth, and thus took up a fake name to display his new work. As the praise and adoration for
his paintings grew, the more theories went around the community as to who he might be. It
was amusing, without the stakes his secret identity of Robin possessed.

Now Brooklyn was in on the secret most would give a fortune to obtain, one he knew with
utmost certainty she’d never divulge, even at gunpoint.

“Does your brother know?”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Of course not”

At that, Brooklyn slapped his arm teasingly.

“He should know how much you care for him, and I know it's not just because of the art. You
even told me once you'd rather take up the mantle of Nightwing when you grow up, a fact
which I’m sure your eldest brother would love to hear”

“There's no need to feed his already large ego, beloved” Damian replied, “Besides, I wanted
you to be the first to witness this, not him”

Damian didn’t say it, but he was seriously thinking about sharing his artistic secret with Dick
if only because he couldn’t share the biggest secret of all. Despite Grayson’s affinity for bad
puns, even Damian could admit that his brother provided good advice and support. It's what
made him certain the small human in Starfire’s stomach would not struggle to grow up in a
cold environment as Damian had. Even their pending sibling would get to feel that
occasionally comforting care.

In that moment he wondered if mentioning Brooklyn was advocating on Dick’s behalf might
aid in bridging the wall between their families. Grayson might find Brook’s concern to be
worthy of overlooking the family rivalry between them. If his memory recalled, Dick had
even saved Brooklyn’s life back at the fight in the Bermuda Triangle, his beloved had once
said as much while recounting a tale of a batarang from Nightwing helping her evade an
unseen danger.

If what Brook had said was true, if father truly had allowed this thing between them to
happen, then maybe others could be persuaded to follow. Barbara especially, considering
Brook was the reason she could walk, run, and jump better than before the attack.

It might’ve been wishful thinking, but in a place surrounded by things he cared for, it was
easy to let one’s self dream beyond the confines of probability.

After they’d scoured the third and fourth floors arm in arm, not having to obscure their smiles
before all those strangers the entire time, the two slowly made their way back out towards the
artist's plaza for some food.

Thinking back to her earlier words, Damian couldn't help but mutter while they were in line
for overpriced ice cream, ”You know, if I were to inherit the title of Nightwing one day when
my brother retires…then you best be the Firebird by my side”

Brooklyn had chuckled at his suggestion, hugging him with her head on his chest.

“Do I have to change my name from Firestar to Firebird?”

Damian made a show of pondering the question. “It would only be fair considering I’d be
graduating from the title of Robin. Besides, Jon was the one that gave you that hero name, I
for one think mine is a better suggestion considering both birds must remain side by side as
legend claims”

Slowly moving up the line, Brooklyn whispered, “I suppose that sounds like a plan…and
thank you, for taking me out on a date despite everything. I really enjoyed it”

Damian almost stood taller at the words, pride emanating off his body. It was at the mention
that they were still on a date that Damian recalled the other suggestion the internet had about
what a perfect date should include. Careful not to disturb her, Damian reached into the left
pocket of his jacket and placed an item within the hand hanging by her side.

Brook startled, relenting a step back to gaze upon the delicate wooden comb now within her
hands. A gift. At her stunned silence, Damian mentioned offhandedly, “I bought it on the way
over when you stopped by to help that elderly woman get across the street…because I
noticed the comb in your room was broken”

She gaped, “It is? And you remembered, and thought to buy me a new one off the streets?”

Damian shrugged. He’d found the quality to be just sufficient enough that it wouldn’t
collapse as easily as its predecessor even if it had only cost a few dollars. It had been an
impulse purchase, but he’d read it was common courtesy to give one’s significant other gifts
like these…it just so happened that the purchase was acceptable for his standards.
Brooklyn beheld the delicate object with as much reverence as she had the painting within,
almost as if she thought it was made of gold. Tracing her manicured fingers along the ridges
of the carved flowers above, Brook looked up at him and smiled before leaning up and
placing a quick kiss to his lips. One he savored, especially after she’d accepted his gift.

Once their lips parted, Brooklyn didn’t pay much mind to the line before or behind them, nor
the people walking around the park-like square. Her gaze was one him and him only as she
mused, “I suppose next time we’re feeling bold and stupid it will be my turn to plan a date
and to try and top this gift”

“It's just a comb”

“No. It's a comb from you, which makes it priceless to me,” she corrected with feigned
sternness.

Damian didn't bother masking his smile behind a typical scowl. After their ice cream was
paid for, the two teens found a lonely black bench underneath a sprawling peach tree.
Citizens passed by with their pets on a leash, children ran and screamed amidst play, and the
faint sounds of violins could be heard from the amphitheater behind them.

The two sat there for hours, avoiding topics pertaining to villains, his father, or anything that
had to do with pending work. They spoke of art, music, ballet, and even the occasional
mention of what a future might be like where the Dynasty was led by Nightwing and Firebird
well into their twenties.

Damian often relished in confidence, only he’d tried to keep his expectations low about life
and death until today. Days like this reminded him of the little things he’d grown to enjoy,
stuff he was adamant not to lose at Cobalus’ hands. Or anyone else.

By the time they climbed back up the fire escape to the apartment the two were instantly
greeted by the two spoiled brats who practically clung to their sides as they made to settle on
the couch for some peace and quiet. Throwover in place, movie chosen, and lights dimmed,
Damian was waiting with Titus and Goliath for Brook to return with some popcorn, when he
received a notification on the phone he’d kept turned off all day.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t his siblings demanding where he was, or father ordering an audience.
It was an automated message that stated his painting of the sprawling farming lands of the
Kents had been sold after a bidding war. Damian might’ve relished in the fact that it had sold
for twelve hundred dollars were it not for the name of the buyer under the amount.

Brooklyn Rosa Stark.

Damian couldn’t help it. He quickly pivoted back to face the kitchen where his beloved stood
before the microwave, eyeing the popping corn within. He wanted to ask why she’d bought
it, but then he recalled the painting hung to his right, another of his works, but one he’d gifted
his beloved.

He imagined another of his art pieces hanging here, another piece of himself amidst the
apartment he considered a refuge. A part of him was smug at the fact, the other…never in all
his life did he think one of his professional paintings would find itself in the home of a girl
he’d grown to treasure beyond reason. It felt good. Too good.

When Brooklyn returned with their food, settling beside him under the covers, Damian didn't
say a thing about the painting. He wasn’t sure what could be said. Instead he wrapped an arm
around her shoulders, letting Brook settle her head against the crook of his neck while
Goliath curled along her stomach with his wings sprawled lazily along her legs. Titus even
forwent his spot on the floor before them, choosing to settle beside Damian under the soft
throw over, one of his paws reaching across Damian’s own legs as if to grasp Brook.

In that moment, as the fire roared to life before them, TV displaying some cooking show
Alfred favored, and all the windows and blinds shut for maximum privacy…Damian couldn’t
help but lean down to kiss the top of his beloved’s head. Not in thanks for buying his
painting, but for everything spoken and unspoken between them.

What he wasn't aware of was that amidst their lounging outdoors earlier, someone who knew
their identities had spotted them. It wasn’t a hidden journalist amongst any nearby bushes,
nor was it someone from school. While the two teens had been eating their ice cream while
seated in that park bench, someone had been observing from up above.

Crouching at the top of one of the majestically domed roofs of the Museum of American
History was Talia al-Ghul covered head to toe in a black suit save for the emerald headscarf
obscuring her brown locks. The assassin’s intense and sharp eyes had been locked on the
unsuspecting pair, studying them silently for over ten minutes until the cloaked ninja by the
woman’s side inquired in assassin code, “Should we fetch the young master now instead of
awaiting Cobalus’ to hand him over?”

Talia smirked behind her covering, green eyes identical to her son’s observing every passing
individual, noting every animal, every object, as she replied sultrily, “Don’t be foolish, that
girl would not hesitate to destroy you if you tried. Something tells me she’d succeed”

The henchman didn’t dare raise his voice, it was passive of any emotion since most had been
snuffed out in his youth. “She’s a child”

Talia chuckled at that, standing to jump down towards a concrete ledge of sorts covered with
carved crouching griffins that gave her cover.

“So is my son,” she stated lazily, tilting her head to the side as she considered, “Yet those two
might very well grow to be some of the most powerful people in the world, not just because
of their last names. So let them indulge in their childish outings while they can, let them
relish in the taste of a life of peace that they’re not meant for”

She’d been following the pair since they left the girl’s apartment, not to gather information on
their whereabouts for nefarious purposes, but simply because League matters would have
her…rather busy these next few weeks. She wouldn’t get to watch her son from a distance for
some time, and though she’d scowled at the blatant display of mundane affections amidst this
silly outing…her boy giving the girl a gift had been an interesting development.
Talia would miss observing those odd little creatures from time to time, watch them fight and
survive, especially when there was no denying they were growing powerful in more ways
than one. This wasn’t the life she’d imagined for her son, far from it actually, but even Talia
could see that there was use in the affection between them.

If she played her cards right, Damian would renounce this silly dream of normality, perhaps
he and Ivan’s heiress would be the next rulers of the League when the time came, instead of
the teen ending up in her father’s dungeons to be experimented on and tortured. The League’s
future would blossom even further if those two renounced their silly morals together after all.

They could destroy the world and rebuild a new one that way.

“There better not be a word about this to my father until I command so”

That was an order. Couldn't be mistaken as anything else.

“Why?”

Talia was used to this subordinate’s questions, which is why she kept him around. Though he
would never dare defy her, his inquiries were more so for her benefit, so she could ponder
and bounce off ideas. Today though, her reasons for secrecy were not something she was very
pleased to speak of, they infuriated Talia enough that she considered swinging her katana at
the griffin statue before her.

“My siblings are enough of a nuisance as it is, and if our master thinks his heir is being
careless, he’d deploy our forces to fetch him by force. A fight against the Batman’s crew and
Firestar will leave us weakened, ripe for conquering”

The might of the League of Assassins was unparalleled, but even Talia could admit that as of
recent events, it was best they remained in the shadows. Rebellions aside, they had other
matters to deal with in terms of their benefactor’s vision…the last thing Talia wanted was her
son fighting his way out of the League to reunite with his new acquaintances, much less
Brooklyn Stark burning down the woman’s ancestral home to get Damian back.

“As you command,” the ninja by her side replied, “Should I assign a few spies to keep an eye
on the young master until this conflict dies down?”

Talia shook her head, “He’ll spot them and send them back crippled as a message. I know my
son is capable of protecting himself, and as long as he’s surrounded by that cluster of foolish
children he calls ‘friends’, he’ll be a harder target to destroy”

Though she didn’t quite feel a pang of sadness, there was a heavy hesitation in her heart as
she turned away from the sight below and began navigating across the nearby rooftops with a
speed and agility that most could never hope to achieve. It was as Talia prepared to go back
to her hideout that she removed her head covering and let her grin be witnessed by the alley’s
shadows she passed by undetected.

She’d known her son would never again behold another woman the way he did Miss Stark,
but it was pleasant to see her predictions had come true after all. Talia’s boy had gifted her a
comb, thus, she could only wonder what was holding back her son from gifting her the ring
she’d given him.

Al-Ghul’s aren’t known for their patience despite having all the time in the world to achieve
their goals, love fueled that further into a person of their caliber, which is why the woman
found it odd her son hadn’t already claimed Brooklyn as his own before the world.

Something told her another impromptu meeting with Damian wasn't far behind, perhaps she
could ask him then. If not, there were other ways to find out.

Brooklyn POV-

It had to have been around eight o'clock when Damian decided he’d risked his absence for
long enough, at which point both teens had been incredibly hesitant to leave the warmth and
comfort of the couch. The show on TV had long since been forgotten by then, the two had
been content to simply stare at one another, heads laying on the headrest of the couch as they
faced one another.

They were close enough that if one of them had moved even an inch forward, their lips
would’ve met. Yet they never did. It wasn’t because she disliked their kisses, on the contrary,
Brooklyn felt like she could get drunk on them once they began. Kissing Damian had always
felt like the best ‘wrong’ thing to do, an exchange of unspoken words in the most delicate of
ways which two ex-assassins should be unable to do.

Yet…there was something about just sitting there, Titus and Goliath sprawled happily on
their laps, beholding the way the firelight bounced off his tanned skin, it was even more of a
rush. It was one of the rawest forms of trust, the two of them having their guards completely
down and willing to let the other stare upon the windows to their souls. It was moments like
those that reminded Brooklyn of a time when she’d stared through open windows of passing
homes or apartments where happy couples of families were just…existing within their own
unimaginable happiness.

She’d pretended like it hadn’t much mattered back them, that Brook didn’t have that kind of
warmth to bask on or a person to smile at. But she felt that now everyday her family gathered
at the Compound, even here in this little apartment with her greatest enemy stared at her like
she was some sort of answer.

The hours spent together, the thought alone of their first date, it stayed with her as the two
reluctantly went a few doors down to get Jon. Though Brook had fingerprint access to the
flat, she’d decided to knock anyway, though she had a feeling her sudden entrance wouldn't
have been a problem. From what she could tell, Lena and Jon had been in the midst of
something as heartbreakingly simple as a karaoke battle.

It was touching, Lena’s wide smile had been enough for Brooklyn to realize her sister too
knew what it was like to experience the little moments of joy they’d been deprived of in the
Red Room. What made it even better was the fact that Jon looked just as euphoric, because at
some point since they’d met, his happiness had become just as important as that of her sister.
She knew no one deserved happiness more than those two, the pair of complete opposites that
had come together against the odds.

Once Damian and Jon had bid their farewells to both of them, they’d had to rush back home,
the sight of Roscoe driving beyond the car gates down below was a somber sight. Brooklyn
knew damn well they’d been lucky enough to have a day of peace, for that alone she'd
remained smiling despite the departure.

Though Lena and Brook clearly had many things to speak of, such as the Batman knowing
her little secret (a pending conversation), the happenings of her first date, and whatever Lena
had done all day with her boyfriend…the life of heroism wasn’t that forgiving.

Peter had been taking care of the first round of patrols, covering for them so they might have
a few hours of peace today. Though Lena had suggested they split the last of the patrol hours,
Brooklyn had decided to take the duty upon herself not only to give her sister some well
deserved rest, but also because Damian would have his own patrols to finish tonight. If she
was already going to wait for his call before bed, she might as well busy herself with keeping
their city safe.

Before leaving her sister’s apartment, the two girls had exchanged a simple smile, then a
chorus of laughter. Maybe it was because of the disbelief that they’d managed an afternoon
with the boys undisturbed, or perhaps mischief at managing to keep it from their father’s
knowledge. Brooklyn preferred to think it was the laughter of joy, a sign that despite all the
chaos they’d had to deal with lately…days like this made it worth every drop of sweat and
headaches.

The plan had been to get changed quickly, text Peter about the change of shifts, then head out
into the night. A third of that plan was finalized as she exited the bedroom she’d all but
rushed into, her plain hero suit on, mask in hand, when she noticed a tall shadow standing in
her living room as she made her way to the balcony. The blinking alarm on her watch
indicating an intruder had even gone off, she’d just been too distracted to notice till now.

Despite previously basking in the comforting presence of her home, Brook’s fight or flight
instincts had immediately kicked in. Stray dagger in hand, she moved through the shadows
ready to attack…that is until Brook realized she did know the figure that was all shoulders,
thick biceps, and strong legs. Letting her weapon fall to the ground, she raised her hands up
in frustration at the unnecessary scare, especially when Jason Todd didn’t even react.

In fact, the man didn’t bother turning around as he continued to peruse her tall bookshelf.
When the lights from the city beyond the window illuminated his figure, they only revealed
the worn brown lather of his jacket, ripples of his cargo pants, and the intricate straps around
his hips and legs that held two guns in place against the sides of his thighs. Weapons
Brooklyn might’ve considered a danger months ago.

Brook knew she and Damian’s brother had come to some kind of peace agreement a while
back, that if he were here to kill her, he certainly wouldn’t be humming discontentedly at the
spines of her small collection of books. Yet his visit here was unexpected, and after
everything that had happened with Bruce Wayne, Brooklyn knew better than to underestimate
any Wayne.
“Hasn’t your dad told you not to snoop other’s possessions?” Brook said, watching intently
as Jason slid a book out of place with a gloved hand —one of her otets’ college notebooks no
less— shaking his head at whatever he found inadequate about it.

“My ‘father’ is a detective that constantly breaks into homes to do just that, snooping around
to find clues” Jason replied sarcastically, “This would be a normal night for him”

Brooklyn straightened as he shifted his gaze to the shelves devoid of texts, previously empty
spaces now flooding with framed photos of her friends and family. Damian wasn’t in any of
them, she’d only risked having those kinds of special frozen moments in her room, but it still
pulled at the strings of her curiosity to see the man examine each and every one of them.
Photos with Lena and Harley at the Compound mid laugh, some of her and dad in his lab
with holographic screens all around them and his suits decorating the wall behind them.
There were plenty with the Avengers, even a handful with sestra she’d managed to capture
against the woman’s will.

Her maternal grandparents were up there, many photos with her friends during school hours,
but it was one photo she’d taken with Peter that Jason Todd lingered on the most. That gaze
then shifted towards the walls of her home, taking in everything and only lingering slightly
on the painting propped on the wall that Damian had made, before turning to settle on the
couch beside Brooklyn.

It was as he slouched on it as if he owned this apartment that Brooklyn noticed the

bulletproof silver plating covering his chest and arms, one with a red bat symbol on its
middle. For all his clear distaste of Bruce Wayne, Jason still wore his symbol, perhaps out of
spite.

Combing a hand through his midnight black hair with a steak of white at the front, Jason shot
her a casual smirk when she questioned, “Is there a reason you’re here then? Am I being
investigated?”

“I just put Killer Moth back in prison, was chased down in the sewers by Killer Croc, and got
shot at by a group of rookie robbers with surprisingly decent aim. That’s just my day, not my
week” he replied with a tired groan, cracking his knuckles before letting his head fall back on
the couch that she and Damian had been laying on not minutes before.

Brooklyn hoped that in his assessment of the room, he hadn’t found the pile of blankets near
the fireplace odd, that Damian’s art was as much a mystery to him as the beginnings of the
universe, and that the lingering dog hairs from Titus couldn’t be traced back to their owner.

Maybe his clear exhaustion would help with that.

Perching on the nearby loveseat, Brook remembered who was here. It was someone she’d
realized long ago was similar to her in enough ways that the beginnings of a friendship had
quickly blossomed. Aside from Damian and Bruce, he was the only Wayne that had dared to
test the bounds of their family rivalry. Bruce had dared for an alliance and support. Damian
for partnership. Jason…well, he was a friend, it was time she began treating him as such
especially since she hadn’t really been able to speak to him since his family left the
Compound.
“Need a drink or something?” she offered with a tired smile of her own.

Sneaking a glance at the nearby kitchen, Jason questioned, “Aren’t you like…fourteen?
What's alcohol doing here?”

“I’m seventeen, and I was joking about the booze”

He didn’t need to know she and Lena had already finished the bottle of vodka she’d snatched
from sestra long ago, or that she’d regularly consumed alcohol since her youth to stay alive.
Not that she made a habit of drinking, that bottle may as well have been their farewell to their
previous life.

“Rude,” Jason muttered, patting the red helmet beside him lazily, “What are you all dressed
up for this late anyways?”

Brooklyn glanced down at her skintight black suit, at the matching mask by her side. Unlike
her regular hero attire, Brook sometimes favored a more discrete getup to run some late night
patrols. Partly to make criminals think the heroes were asleep this late into the night while
not disregarding her duties to keep everyone safe.

“Believe it or not, I take patrolling this city very seriously as I’m sure you saw last time you
were here”

Jason fluffed one of her pillows and set it behind his head, reclining back into the couch that
almost looked too small to fit him properly. He truly was all muscles…and with the skills no
doubt imparted by the Batman himself, Brook couldn’t help but wonder how Damian could
claim to take down his mammoth brother during casual spars every now and then.

In an assassin’s perspective, it meant the man before him had to have a few weaknesses
Damian knew to exploit. As Brooklyn Stark, it didn’t much matter how far Jason’s abilities
went.

“Are you referring to my visit during your school dance with the Scarecrow or the lovely
patrol we spent together? I suppose either of those would prove your point” Jason mused,
“But considering I ran around in horrendous tights as a child doing that very thing, you can't
say I'm not as devoted to the craft as yourself”

Brooklyn could hardly imagine someone like Jason dressed in anything other than denim and
leather, yet she couldn’t deny that in terms of seniority, he’d been doing this job far longer
than anyone in her team. Looking at him now, she wondered how he’d managed it for so
long, if his peculiar humor was anything to go by, along the faint scar running along the side
of his handsome face, maybe he didn’t get through it unscathed after all.

Pushing off the arched entrance, Brooklyn made her way over to the balcony, murmuring
over her shoulder, “You are the weirdest man I’ve ever met”

Near silent footsteps followed behind her.

“Surely that can’t be true if you’ve met Damian. He manages to make inanimate objects
cower in fear and gets his clothes pressed as a teenager. Obviously I’m not that bad”

Brooklyn didn’t let her steps falter even when his words gave her pause. The day the two had
agreed to try and be friends, he’d inquired about what Damian thought of her fighting and
had even asked that she protect his brother. Back then when things between the two teens had
still been so early and new, she hadn’t thought much of it…but now knowing Bruce Wayne
was aware of it all, the mere mention of the boy she wasn’t supposed to care for made her
weary.

Jason’s father had been very clear that they should keep the secret from his family and her
own, meaning he hadn’t told his children of his suspicions. All signs pointed that Jason’s
question was nothing but playful curiosity, maybe it was just a habit to bring up his youngest
brother to those that knew of him.

Perhaps it was the fact that she’d been willing to take on Jason as a friend, knowing she was
already lying to him about something involving one of his family members, that didn’t feel
right.

It was clear as day to her since the first day she’d allowed Jason as an ally that he cared for
Damian no matter how much sass and mocking words he put behind his good intentions. In a
way, she couldn’t help but think that the masking of feelings with a particular emotion had to
be a Wayne trait. His worry for Damian had been one of the big reasons why she’d even
dared the risk of befriending the man behind her…but trusting him with her greatest secret
was another matter entirely.

Her friends knew. Bruce Wayne knew. Talia knew. Maybe Alfred truly was as smart as
everyone claimed and he’d already formed silent suspicions as well. The last thing they
needed right now during this time of chaos was to spark a battle between her and Jason now,
especially because it would put Damian in a difficult position.

If Jason was ever trusted to know, it wouldn’t be Brooklyn that would mention it to him. It
would have to be Damian.

“Your brother is a menace,” Brook lied smoothly as she placed her mask back on, keeping
her back to him as she added, “Though I suppose he’s a useful menace, a sentiment I’m sure
we both share”

Moving to her side, he unsheathed his dual pistols, only this time when she frowned at their
appearance, Jason removed the rounds to show her a peculiar set of bullets.

“Non-lethal rubber bullets,” he explained with a shrug, “I ran out of Tide Pens so I’m hoping
to avoid spilling blood until it counts”

Brooklyn slowly settled atop the railing of her balcony, staring down at the harmless yet
painful bullet rounds she hadn’t known Jason was capable of using. Though seeing how often
he claimed to patrol, Book would’ve definitely heard of the massive trail of bodies he left
behind if that were the case.
He clearly wasn’t like Damian or the others, not killing wasn’t a restriction he had
implemented into his lifestyle like them…but maybe ending lives wasn’t viewed as a
necessity either.

“Let me guess, that privilege is reserved for the Joker and his allies?” she teased.

At the sight of him climbing up to join her with that grin of his, Brooklyn just knew there
would be no dissuading him to go home. Brook knew what loneliness was like, and maybe
tonight after all the villains he’d battled, he just needed a friend to banter with rather than
blood on his hands. She could understand that.

With only a nod, Brook sent a grappling hook shooting out of her now greatly reduced
gauntlets made to withstand her flames. There was no need to look back as she swung from
building to building amidst the darkness, she knew Jason was capable of keeping up.

Unfortunately, with Red Hood tagging along, it would be best if her flames remain hidden
along with her identity as Firestar. Dad was already reluctant about her patrolling with one
Wayne, she had a feeling if he heard about her hanging around this one…things might be
even worse. On that same orbit, just because the citizens of Queens had gotten used to Robin
being around didn’t mean they’d be thrilled about Red Hood being here after the handful of
criminal deaths brought on by his hand last time.

Tonight, she’d go about solving conflicts the old school way. With first and simple weapons.

It wasn’t until she was a substantial distance from her home that Brook settled on the edge of
a massive skyscraper looking down on her beloved city. From the clogging traffic to the
shining lights amidst every window, Brooklyn was relieved to behold the sights of peace and
life. Beside her, Jason crouched as he beheld the streets below, that red helmet of his
obscuring every and any emotion he may feel.

For a second, Brook could only stare down and…wonder. She’d seen the faint scar across his
face, had no doubt there were many more wounds hidden behind the armor, the leather, and
even the gloves. Damian didn’t speak of Jason much, even after she’d admitted the two of
them had formed a friendship of sorts, but he’d always said something about the man beside
her not coming back right after…after the League of Assassins and the Joker. He was all
strength from the massive muscled body to the deep and assertive voice, yet he didn’t make
sense beyond that.

He hated his father, yet stayed with him. He killed enemies, but remained a vigilante
regardless if it meant saving people.

Settling along the edge with her high boots hanging in the air, Brooklyn mused, “This must
be much different than what you’re used to dealing in Gotham? Though I suppose you’re
considered a secret royal there”

“Gotham isn’t ruled by royals, not really” Jason mused, keeping his gaze down below, “Its
ruled by orphans”
There was no reason for her to pursue this, to mend bonds outside of her family. Brook
would’ve loved to think she was doing it to gain favor from Bruce Wayne, but in reality, she
really couldn't stand that his children thought the worst of him. Brook knew what a bad father
was like, she’d been adopted once a long time ago after all. Letting Jason continue to think
the worst of his own adoptive father would gain her nothing, but she had a feeling it would
give Jason everything to understand the wrongness of it at last.

That is why she swallowed her unease at breaching a sensitive subject as she stated, “You
know, not everyone would take in orphans and give them a good home”

“Yes, and not everyone would let that child die and not care to do anything about it”

Brooklyn and death had a peculiar relationship, but she had a sinking feeling that it truly
wasn’t as close as the one death had with Jason Todd. Though seeing the lengths Bruce
Wayne had gone to ensure her relationship with Damian wasn’t weak or fickle, she had a
hard time believing the man had done nothing to set things right if one of his kids died.

Perhaps Batman should’ve killed the Joker, Brook had almost killed Harley Quinn when she
thought Damian dead and likely would’ve damned her own morals if the Joker had killed her
friend, sister, and lover during Joker’s Day…but she’d at least grown into enough of an adult
to know there were other ways to avenge someone aside from death.

“If you truly didn’t matter to him, would he have let you live in his own home? Would he let
you go out and deal with criminals as you see fit in his city?”

Jason reached for one of the guns at his side, not to shoot her thankfully, but rather to spin
around his hand. A nervous habit.

“You had to spend an afternoon with him at that gala a while back, you know how much of a
pain in the ass he can be. Besides, how would it make you feel if your father didn’t avenge
your death? I get Robins have a high mortality rate, with 80% of their young dying every
year, but your father is a hero and all, how would it feel?” he challenged.

If she was being honest with herself, the girl fresh out of the Red Room would’ve been
murderous with rage, perhaps in the same way someone like Jason may have reacted. But
who she was now after all she’d lived through, it surprised Brook how much of a different
reaction only a few months could instill.

“I would’ve been glad my dad didn't succumb to darkness, that despite his own grief, he
chose to stay on the right path no matter what. In fact, maybe it's because of my background,
but I would’ve been very proud of him for not daring to take that life even if he had every
justification and power to do so” Brook confessed.

That being said, if dad had faced an ‘Avenger’s level threat’ in which too many people had
died at the hands of a criminal, she would’ve understood that killing said criminal probably
wasn’t about avenging her so much as sacrificing for the world and ensuring the best
outcome for everyone. Dad liked to pretend he was free of the shackles of responsibility, but
no one cared about doing the right thing more than him.
It may have been in an effort to get a different perspective into Jason’s mind that she chose to
leave out the fact that her dad had almost killed Uncle Bucky when he found out the super-
soldier had killed his parents. Yet, Uncle Bucky was alive, dad wasn’t currently trying to kill
him, which she considered an improvement. Something Jason could also learn to do.

Shifting a little to face him better, Brook pressed, “Look, I’m not a parent, but I think the fact
that he didn’t kill the monster speaks volumes of how much he cares for you”

For a second, Jason was quiet enough that Brook figured she’d pushed too hard. She’d
expected him to get up and leave, he didn’t owe her anything after all, but she should’ve
known that perhaps that was a quality all Wayne children shared. They were stubborn, made
of steel on the outside but raging with a thousand emotions and troubles on the inside.

Jason wouldn’t think to leave until he’d said all he needed to, that was clear as the night sky
above.

“Listen Stark, Batman can create as many crappy trophies as he wants. They don't change a
thing. They’re built on lies and sand, and they will fall like his whole damn world. I stay by
his side to make sure I can follow his moves throughout the city, to ensure things are done
right and that villains that need to be taken care of are dealt with properly, not to get caught
up in his imaginary nostalgia. There’s nothing to be gained getting caught up in his gravity.
Nothing.”

This kind of mess wasn’t hers to deal with, nor was she under the illusion that she could fix
it, but there was something deeply saddening about the way Jason spoke about his own
father. It was different from Damian’s own mistrust and calculation, but it stemmed off the
same insistence to keep their distance from the man. An assassin habit, detaching oneself
from troubling emotions.

Shifting to stand, Brook extended a hand down to the hulking vigilante. She wouldn’t press
further, not when this was something he had to work past the same way she’d made peace
with her own troubles with her otets in the beginning. What she could do was offer a
distraction to a friend, show that just as it was possible for a Stark and Wayne to be allies, it
could also be possible for a father and son to see eye-to-eye one day despite every hurdle
standing in the way.

Surprisingly, Jason took her hand, though thankfully he spared her from lifting up his weight
by doing it himself. Otherwise, despite her constant workouts, the two of them would’ve
tumbled off the edge of the building for sure.

They spent the better part of an hour stopping simple robberies, sticking to the shadows as
best they could to avoid being spotted even by those they worked to put behind bars. After
the damage control of Joker’s Day, the city didn’t have a lot of large scale crimes at this hour,
something she’d briefly worried Red Hood would find boring. Yet despite providing no
challenge to him, Jason dealt with any threat they stumbled upon with the occasional witty
comment. Brook might dare say that it looked like he was playing with his food at times.

It was surprisingly fun, even if it wasn’t much of a challenge for her either. By the end of all
foreseeable altercations, Brooklyn wondered if phrases like ‘well golly’ and ‘goodness me’
were part of his vocabulary or if they were specifically meant to amuse her. She had a feeling
that if she asked, Jason would make an event out of obscuring the simple answer from her.

It wasn’t until they perched atop a clock tower outlooking a nightly event at the nearby park
that Brooklyn let herself look back in the direction of where the Compound would be. None
of the Avengers would be there, not when they were stuck on missions and there was too
much radio silence for her to know for sure if they were alright.

All that talk about fathers earlier had reminded her of the sinking truth that her dad was out
there working tirelessly and risking his life. The guilt of hanging around Waynes behind his
back was still a constant ache in the back of her head, no matter how small. It still had Brook
wishing he’d come back soon, safe.

Her somber thoughts were only interrupted when Jason moved to sit on a nearby air duct,
stretching out the aches along his arms as he questioned, “How’s patrolling with my brother
as of late anyways? I assume it's like walking on sunshine”

What she wouldn’t do is panic again at the mere mention of Damian Wayne. That would be
foolish and unnecessary considering Dami had never mentioned something about Jason
inheriting his adoptive father’s exceptional detective skills. This was just Jason teasing her.
Yet she’d already said enough negative things about Damian that she didn’t want Jason to
think his brother wasn’t safe around her.

She had to exercise a careful balance between lies and truths.

“He hates me, he’s unpleasant, but he’s also a good fighter…enough that I don't have to keep
an eye on him. In short, he’s useful”

Jason chuckled, “Don't flatter him too much. I think his twisted little mind might even
consider that string of insults as a complement. It's certainly nicer than anything his twisted
family of assassins probably told him growing up”

“It isn’t a compliment” Brook reassured falsely, “I’m sure he’d know that coming from me,
even the kindest of words would have a hidden jab behind them”

Laying down along the length of the metal surface, Jason turned that masked face towards
her, the depth of those white eyes honing in for a while as if he wanted to make sure he had
her attention. Then in what was likely no more than another joke, Jason provided her with the
first words tonight that had given her hope.

“Hey, you and I get along just fine…maybe getting along with another of my father's victims
won't be so bad either”

Brooklyn knew that whatever answer she came up with, hostile or not, would be the wrong
thing to say. In this case, she said nothing, let the words stew in her mind long enough that
the urge to just tell Jason the truth became an attractive possibility. But she’d only known the
guy for a few months, knew that despite settling some disputes, he and Damian didn’t really
get along. Maybe Jason would honor their friendship, but she still wasn’t sure if that would
overpower the urge to use the information against Damian.
Who knows, maybe Jason didn't mind her as a friend, but would have an issue with her
having a closer relationship with another Wayne. Much like with her own family, there were
too many unknowns to risk the truth out in the open…even if to some degree, she longed to
have another friend on their side.

If she told Jason and he knew his father wasn't against the relationship, would that put him
against her?

Amidst her worries, Brooklyn hadn’t noticed she’d been walking along the edge of the
building mindlessly until Jason snapped her out of her thoughts with yet another difficult
question. She wondered if he was picking hard topics on purpose, or if he genuinely didn’t
know what to talk about other than his family and the chaos of the world.

“What exactly do you plan to do?”

She paused, sheathing her pocket knife as her hair billowed with the wind behind her where
the city below was still in full swing despite the late hour.

“You mean tomorrow? Go to school I guess, practice for the upcoming Decathlon. Why?”

Brook couldn't see his face, but she was almost ninety percent sure he’d rolled his eyes
before clarifying, “I mean as Firestar”

“Why do you care what Firestar does?” she challenged, curious more than anything at the
topic he’d initiated.

Shifting to rest a heavy boot atop his folded knee, Jason mused, “Let’s see…because
everything is going to shit and we’ve all almost died a few times. As someone who’s died
before, I should warn you it's not a pleasant experience”

“I figured as much,” she replied, even if the concept of death was not something she was used
to joking about even with her peculiar background, “What I mean was, why care about MY
life?”

Jason moved his gaze up towards the sky filled with the flickering lights of passing planes
and the crescent sight of the moon. Hands behind his helmet acting like a cushion, Jason
admitted, “I took your advice and reconnected with an old ally…I mean, friend. It doesn't fix
all the shit that's happened, but being around Roy helps feel more like my old self. You were
right about me being a lonely bastard that needed more friends”

Brook smiled, “You don't owe me for a piece of basic advice, you know?”

“This isn’t about owing you anything, you’re stuck as my friend now too, there’s a no return
policy I’m afraid. That means I have every right to care about your life, especially after the
scare you game me when I thought you’d died in that fancy presidential plane, which sounds
cool and all, but I prefer my friends breathing and with a pulse”

Brooklyn huffed out a faint laugh.

“Friends haven't failed me yet, which makes return policies nonexistent in my book. That
better mean you won't fault me for worrying about your life? Out of both of us, you’re the
one that might get into more trouble, mask or no mask”

The man tsked her way, snapping his fingers as he mused with feigned amusement, “I
wouldn't count you out just yet. Every time I see you, it seems like you’ve encountered the
jackpot of trouble. Dragging my dying brother around Gotham, hiding from the Joker, taking
on assassins and the Scarecrow. Seriously, its concerning stuff”

“If you must know, I’m focusing on school and my position as heiress. You saw the kind of
patrols I deal with on a daily basis, that hardly constitutes as constant trouble. Those are just
special circumstances” she lied, though she was touched by his concern regardless.

Though he looked like nothing but a lazy house cat lounging at his leisure, something about
Jason’s veiled warnings amidst casual words still had her one edge.

“If there's one thing I know, it’s that my brother has never settled for stopping petty crimes
when something bigger was on the horizon. The city views you and the others as a team, and
I can't work out if Damian would drag you into whatever his ego will urge him towards
pursuing, especially after what the Joker has done. As a friend, all I'm saying is that you
watch your back, and like I mentioned during our last talk, also watch his arrogant ass from
time to time even if he doesn't need it”

Jason’s concern, however masked, was a gesture that never failed to surprise her, especially
because it involved Damian as well. Maybe once they were better friends, she’d bother
thanking him for thinking of both their safety when most people around them simply
assumed they were indestructible teenagers.

She wondered perhaps if this was how it felt to have an older brother. In her previous adopted
home, Brook had one of those, and he’d been the worst person imaginable to deal with. But
Jason’s company, his constant worrying, the way he tried to make her laugh and took to
teasing her…it's what Damian often ‘complained about’, what stories spoke of.

Brooklyn found she didn’t mind it one bit.

Amidst a chuckle of amusement, she shot him a thumbs up as he rose at last, clearly intent on
going back home. Standing at the edge of the opposite side of the roof, Red Hood shouted as
his parting wisdom, “Your library of books at home is shit by the way. Seriously, there’s
nothing but science and business in there, so follow my advice this time and broaden your
horizons. I’ll bring some decent literature for you to explore next time we meet”

“You don’t have to do that—”

“Oh I do,” Jason interrupted with feigned dramatics, hand against his chest and all, “your
collection is practically a crime. Luckily I’m well versed in the classics and anything beyond
that”

“A crime? Says the guy with the guns,” she deadpanned, fighting back her widening smile.
 “Guns with rubber bullets,” he corrected while shooting a grappling hook towards the
buildings below, “I’m practically a saint tonight”

Before she could shoot back an answering jab, Jason jumped off the building, and Brooklyn
didn’t have to look down to know he’d already swung away at an impressive speed.

For a moment, she lingered on that roof on her own, pondering the intricacies of her life with
only the moon as her witness. Brooklyn’s next moves in everything had to be well calculated,
incredibly thought out…she had too much to lose now after all. Perhaps on that front, Jason’s
concern was valid. She could only hope that days like this one, spent lazily with Damian and
bickering with friends, would not be something she’d have to sacrifice for victory in the long
run.

Rushing home, Brook was eased by the promise of a pending talk with Damian once she
arrived. Hopefully she could startle him a bit after admitting what her night had consisted of
and whom she’d spend it with.

Chapter End Notes

Hats’ off to those who caught the Batman: Arkham Knight Genesis reference. I couldn’t
hope to encompass a certain relationship without it.
 The Assassins

Brooklyn POV-

It had been a long time since the Briar Rose Cafe had seen the entire Dynasty team assembled
for an extended period of time. Normally, during the weekend it was MJ, Ned, and Harry
who were stuck in here seated before the wall of monitors, assisting those patrolling with the
‘illegal’ resources they’d assembled overtime.

It was Tanya that often took to organizing their space, its most recent additions being a corner
with a few workout machines and a mat for sparring; an entire desk and its wall dedicated to
monitors depicting all things from news channels, social media posts, street and police
cameras, and even their own hidden security around the outside of the building. Jon often
swore Ned’s base of operations looked like something out of the fabled Batcave, much to
Harry’s amusement.

That wasn’t to say their hidden alcove was all business. The corner by the bar that Lena and
Jon were huddled around, propped atop a once discarded vintage couch, was one of their
lounging areas. By Yelena’s request, it had been assembled around a record player that either
played Lena’s vintage records, Damian’s preferred classical orchestra hits, Harry’s rock n’
roll music, or Tanya’s latest pop choices.

There wasn’t a second spent here where music wasn’t their companion, and normally their
rule of thumb had become that whoever had suffered through the worst day could pick the
music. Damian could huff and roll his eyes when his own music wasn’t chosen, but she’d
caught sight of him humming or tapping his foot along to everyone else’s choices at times.

Near that little nook was a small section with a few poorly installed wall mirrors before a
wooden beam. That place was reserved for the times Lena and Book decided to go through
the motions of old ballet dances to cool off after missions. Next to it was the small workout
area where Damian and Harry often took to venting their own annoyances.

Right now, Brooklyn was in the midst of weight lifting with Damian as her watcher, standing
behind her with his emerald eyes looking right down at her…it was distracting to say the
least, but at least it provided an additional challenge.

Once her last repetition was over with, he helped her set the bar back in its place, and when
Brooklyn rose to sit properly, she noticed Ned was still enthralled with the blue holograms
before him hovering atop the round table in the middle of the room. Peter, clad in gray sweats
atop of his suit after patrols, was imputing his own suggestions to the improvement of WHAT
rather enthusiastically.

Their little private program for chatting and sharing information appropriately named ‘We
Hackin’ All Things’ had done a wonderful job these past few months, but with the stakes
rising everyday, they all figured it wouldn’t hurt to implement improvements every now and
again.
The wall of screens across from her depicted an array of reports trailing the recent crimes of
the Joker, including but not limited to his stunt at Midtown and a few sightings of his masked
lackeys taunting but never taking over police precincts across both New York and New
Jersey.

Despite the fact that no major attack had occurred in a while, Brook couldn’t help but worry
that they were blind to some kind of pattern of attack, still unaware of the reasons why
Cobalus was doing all of this.

At the feeling of a sturdy hand on her bare shoulder, Brooklyn turned to see Damian had
clearly caught her concern. Not being able to stop the Joker yet was weighing on him too, she
could tell. Even if the Joker wasn’t in charge, he was the main component of this latest wave
of crimes under someone else’s name, but that didn’t mean the crazed clown wouldn’t make
time to bother Damian’s family as he often tended to do.

“We won’t let him get away with anything else,” Brook whispered to him, placing her hand
atop his own on her shoulder. She only hoped it wasn’t as hollow a promise as a bad day
could make it out to be.

The blue glow from the holograms before them reflected across Damian’s tanned skin like
cosmic dust as he replied with an edge to his voice, “Too many have died by his schemes,
and some of us almost did. Something tells me that imbecile is being so bold because he
knows there is only jail time awaiting him until someone equally as twisted can free him”

Brooklyn had never forgotten what it had felt like to think her sister, friend, and the guy who
guarded her heart, had been taken by the Joker’s schemes. She was practically used to the
sinking feeling in her stomach whenever the Avengers, her own dad, went out on missions
they may very well never come back from. The Scarecrow’s attack had been a cruel reminder
that the Joker wasn’t done playing games with them…games in which he didn’t much care
who lived or died.

The scars and death that Jason Wayne carried were a testament to how far things could go. So
was Damian’s crippled sister.

Widows had been trained to look at every angle during a mission, to prefer stealth over
excessive brute force. Brooklyn didn’t much care for her old life, but even she could admit
that a careful approach might be best right now…no matter how much her soul screamed at
her to just burn whatever building the Joker may be hiding in.

When Brook and Damian neared the table in the middle of the room, it needn't be said for the
others to follow, leaving their activities behind for the true reason of this elongated meeting.
The spotlight from up above shone down on all those gathered, the blue hue of the changing
diagrams on the table intensifying as various documents were pulled up at once.

Beside Brooklyn, Damian was shifting everything into place with a simple flick of his finger,
frowning at the long list of missions they’d have to go through in the foreseeable future.
Things she and Damian had been planning since they left the Compound after Joker’s Day.
Normally, assignments consisted of patrol schedules, maybe the occasional large weapon’s
bust. This list was nothing like the basic crimes they’d taken to stopping in the streets of their
city, these were assignments that weren’t meant to be taken lightly…yet they were necessary
to try and stop their enemy. Neither she nor Damian ever enjoyed putting the team in
unnecessary danger, but neither were willing to see another Joker’s Day come to pass, so
they’d put their brains together, racking over solutions and countermeasures during the deep
hours of the night.

Looking around the table at the curious faces trying to make sense of bits and pieces of the
3D files, Brooklyn could tell their concern only grew by the second. Even as an ex-assassin
taught to obscure fear, she couldn’t blame them. Too many dangerous names were up there,
some that were too close to their hearts.

While most people chased after dreams, it seemed the Dynasty had made it their business to
go after nightmares.

“Damn,” Harry exhaled, “this is the worst situation we’ve ever been in, right? Otherwise
none of this stuff would ever be up for consideration”

Trying to lighten the mood for those gathered that were new to battles and conflict, Brook
offered, “Debatable. I almost got myself killed last year…more than once”

Catching her drift, Yelena shifted her gaze from her concerned Kryptonian and after raising
her brow, added, “I’ll take the blame for one of those times”

Harry whipped the sweat off his forehead with the ends of his worn band t-shirt, his mocking
smile genuine at least as he replied, “Oh yeah. I guess last year really did suck for you,
Brook”

Drawing their attention back at the documents, Damian double tapped the one in the middle
which expanded to show news feeds in Gotham, the city was somehow darker and more
ominous before the famed prison for villains. Documents to the left showed files from the
GCPD detailing conversations with a certain inmate, to the right, a live feed of the halls of a
prison with new and old aspects to it as if it had been patched up and rebuilt too many times
to count.

“Scarecrow is back in Arkham Asylum, has been for a while, and yet he hasn’t given up
anything on the Joker or Cobalus” Damian said, scowl back in place.

“That doesn’t make sense” MJ pipped in, frowning upwards at the images past the signature
curls pooling near her eyes. “Even if capturing wealthy teens to inconvenience Batman or the
Avengers could be classified as an easy enough task, why risk the Scarecrow after going to
such lengths to free him?”

“That gas of his could’ve been used to aid large scale attacks that could've had the city in
ruins” Peter offered beside MJ, looking as if he might hold her hand a few times, haunted by
whatever memory of the school’s attack followed him.
Something had been going on between those two since that day. Long glances, stuttering of
words, secret smiles…she wouldn’t press for information of course, not when she had more
secrets than she knew what to do with. But whatever had occurred between them, Brook
could only hope it meant happiness for them both. Peter and MJ both deserved it.

Crossing his arms atop his chest instead, Peter’s faint blush could be visible to those who
really bothered to look as he added, “Using one of their most valued pawns and then not
bothering to rescue him is odd. Has there been no attempt to get him back?”

Damian shook his head.

“The GCPD is useless most of the time, probably why father has one of my siblings on
constant vigilance of the damn place. But there hasn't been anything suspicious for days…
nothing in the slightest”

That's what really bothered Brooklyn. Dealing with the Scarecrow hadn’t exactly been a walk
in the park, and for a while she’d basked in incarcerating one of Cobalus’ allies in
retaliation…but both she and Damian had long since agreed something about this situation
was off.

“So what are we gonna do about it?” Tanya said with a roll of her eyes, “Barge into Arkham
and interrogate a prisoner that almost tried to use us all for ransom?”

“Of course not” “We should”

Brook and Damian looked to one another, perplexed.

Their predetermined plans had not involved the Scarecrow as far as she was concerned.
Brooklyn hadn’t even entertained the idea seeing as it could very well be a trap. So why had
Damian changed his mind?

Brook trusted Damian more than anyone, knew that he often looked at problems and
missions from a different perspective that could be very useful, especially when it came to
matters of Gotham where he was more experienced with. Which is why she leaned sideways
on the table, facing him fully as she motioned with a hand for him to explain his reasoning.

“As I said before, the GCPD is notoriously useless since their Commissioner died. There’s no
telling what pathetic attempts at interrogation they may have implemented, things we could
do differently. Plus, despite my father’s rules on not killing, that doesn't mean he hasn’t
earned a reputation amongst the criminals of the city wrapped around in fear. Robin can use
that”

Brooklyn narrowed her eyes.

“Let’s say we go in and mildly torture the guy,” she mused, “maybe thats exactly the kind of
bait the Joker might implement against your family. There is always the possibility that the
Scarecrow was never meant to have a larger role in this than the attempt at Midtown, he
could’ve been kept in the dark for that same reason. It would be unreasonable for us to
directly attack one of Cobalus’ allies like that”
For a moment, Brook was startled at the sight of those determined and cold emerald eyes
being directed her way. It brought back memories of the past, their rocky beginnings full of
hatred and mistrust.

Shifting to face her as well, Damian leaned down just enough so that their faces were
leveled.

“You propose we do nothing about it then? What if the Scarecrow does know and this is one
of the leads we’ve been waiting for? Need I remind you that monster had you trapped within
your own nightmares, that he attacked all of us in our own school? That was supposed to be
our place for normalcy, but Cobalus has made it so that we’re not even safe there either. We
need to act now because we’re running out of time”

“So we rush into battle and get people killed? Is that what you want, Wayne?”

Damian’s expression hardened, “No one is going to die, Stark”

“They will if we’re careless-” she bit back, and the words had barely left her mouth when
Damian challenged, “No, they will if we do nothing when an opportunity to cripple the Joker
and Cobalus presents itself like this!”

The two were locked in a battle of wits, one so intense that Brook barely registered there
were others in the room. She only heard the faint whispers of Harry muttering something
about ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ fighting. That's when it occurred to her that this might very well be
the first disagreement the two had since their something more began. Perhaps even longer
than that.

Here they were, the two of them stuck at an impasse that could very well escalate to the point
at which all they’d fought for could come to an end. It could prove the long-standing fable
that Starks and Waynes were truly meant for nothing more than squabbles amongst one
another.

For a second, she almost let it happen for the sake of winning her argument. It's what a
Widow would’ve done, fought till the last breath for success. She could even see a flicker of
that amidst his emerald orbs, the realization that this fight was something he too wouldn't
back down from.

It was in their blood to be like this.

Yet…she didn’t let that ancient urge win today. Maybe it was because she and Damian had
shared so much of themselves that a part of her brain understood why he wasn’t backing
down. To her, the Joker and Scarecrow were new enemies, but to him and his family, those
people had been thorns at their sides for years.

Damian’s family could’ve been crushed by a hospital thanks to the Joker. The Scarecrow had
almost kidnapped his friends. Brooklyn knew Damian was good at hiding what he felt most
of the time, able to keep the illusion of control and regality in place by instinct alone…but
these kinds of close calls were probably too reminiscent of past tragedies.
Damian was driven by the urge to protect at all costs, while Brook was fueled by the urge to
act stealthily to avoid further suspicion or casualties. Both of them wanted to keep people
safe, only one wanted to rush into danger before time ran out while the other wanted to watch
from the shadows and move the strings of fate from the sidelines.

These were their answers to the ever-growing dangers before them, neither of them even
willing to consider spilling blood, but that didn't mean they hadn’t still chosen the paths their
old assassin guilds would’ve suggested.

It left a bitter taste in her mouth, knowing their first fight as a couple wasn’t even about
them.

The clearing of someone’s throat had Damian and Brook spinning so fast that when they
faced the perpetrator of the interruption, Peter actually stumbled back a step across the table.
Body shaking under their intense gazes, Peter pipped in with a steady voice he’d likely had to
force out, “Maybe Brook is right. We don’t know nearly enough about what's going on to
make bold attacks like these so soon. We’re still blind pieces on a chessboard”

Beside her, Damian leaned his arms on the edge of the table, the force of which had the table
groaning in complaint as the Wayne spat back, ““Now you choose to disagree with me,
Peter? I preferred it when you were a quiet thing that stuttered between words. What
happened to that boy?”

“I started hanging out with all of you,” Peter said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I suppose that's valid”

That blazing gaze turned back to Brooklyn, one which she met head on. Their deal had been
to remain honest with one another, she supposed that meant there would come a time when
they’d be standing before two different sides of a river. Yet, maybe that wasn’t always a bad
thing, some of their best plans were always a mix between both their ideas.

There was a softness in Damian’s glare now that she really bothered to look at it, almost as if
he had worked out things in his mind as well. He didn’t want to back down, but he knew she
wasn’t the enemy.

It wasn’t until she heard Ned mutter in the distance, “Should we do something? Seeing them
fighting like this is terrifying, not to mention what it would look like if they broke up”
followed by MJ’s soft reply of, “They won’t. The two have been holding hands this entire
time”

Without meaning to, both teens glanced down at their interlocked hands neither had noticed
till now. The way their palms molded into one another was a familiar comfort amidst private
moments alone, one she had grown used to long ago. Even while in disagreement, the two
had sought out the comfort of the other. That was another instinct of theirs, not one born out
of their respective assassin teachings, but from the rawest and truest part of themselves.

Prior to this adventure with Damian, Brook had never understood the concept of hand
holding and why people liked it so much. Now she knew it was a steading force, a simple yet
gentle means of contact that assured her she didn’t walk this or any path alone. Brooklyn had
no clue if she’d been the one to reach for that comfort or if had been him, all she knew is that
upon looking at his larger hand encompassing her own, a large chunk of that rising anger
vanquished.

It wasn’t even because she was scared her temper might end up burning him, but because
deep down, Brook knew both of their approaches were fueled by the one emotion they’d both
been taught to repress as kids and thus still had no clue what to do with.

Fear.

They were afraid for their friends, families, even for each other. Both teens were tired,
frustrated, and more than that…they had no clue what to do about this war that had become
something bigger than them. Both of them were being reckless and irresponsible, enough so
that they’d even considered throwing away the best part of their lives for a second.

Shifting her gaze to the ground, Brook squeezed his hand once, hoping to convey her
emotions as they did with everything. With honesty. This was their first fight, likely wouldn’t
be their last, but even as the last dregs of anger vanished from her mind, Brooklyn knew it
certainly wasn’t worth parting ways.

When his hand squeezed her own in return, Brook almost let out a relieved breath. Daring to
look up at him, she immediately saw the way his eyes softened for her and her only. A silent
conversation passed between them, an agreement that their something more was stronger than
petty villains or world shattering wars.

The two had always walked on diverging paths since birth, the only way their hands could
remain locked together is if they chose the middle path. In terms of decisions they both had
good and bad points of, Brook supposed the same applied. They had to pursue the middle
path.

After a tired sigh, Brooklyn said not just to the guy before her but to all in the room, “We can
look into ways to ‘contact’ the Scarecrow as Damian suggested, but it should be at a time
when the enemy is distracted to avoid unsavory traps. Sounds fair?”

Damian nodded, keeping his hand interlocked in hers while shooting everyone a challenging
glare across the table, almost as if daring them to bring up what they’d beheld. No one did, in
fact, Ned and Jon almost seemed relieved it was over.

“Cobalus may not even care for our involvement as of yet, not with the Avengers and the
Justice League as his main enemy,” Damian said, “We should focus on those who do know
what we’re capable of, and that its us who caused them trouble in the past”

The Assassin Guilds.

Brooklyn used her free hand to enlarge the document to her left, an amassed database of
information regarding said guilds and all she and Damian could recall about them. After
Brook and Damian’s failed execution at their hands, the guilds had likely scattered and
worked to regroup their strength these past few months.
Somehow, the two teens had a shared ink link that their time to shine under Cobalus’ orders
wasn’t far behind, even with Ivan in jail.

Though most details projected before them were rather unsavory, none of her friends averted
their eyes from the information. Not when they saw the nations Damian’s grandfather had
brought to their knees across the centuries, the historical atrocities Ivan had puppeteered in
the sidelines. The estimates of their amassed armies, the range of guilds across the world who
may not be as powerful but just as dangerous, was enough to make anyone weary.

Nearby, Brook noted Yelena’s blue-eyed gaze was honed on the one guild she knew too much
of rather than those that she might’ve needed the information on. Once again, Brooklyn was
reminded that while she and Nat had escaped…Yelena had been in there for too long. Months
ago, Lena had been one of those foot soldiers, and having all of those atrocities the Widows
had committed in Ivan’s name before her couldn’t have been easy to face.

That's why Brook quickly brought one particular document to the center-focus of the table.
One which made the hand locked with hers tighten its grip. The League of Assassins. That
was their second order of business, and perhaps one of the most dangerous topics they’d
discuss today, but it had been a plan Damian had insisted on. One she could see the merits of
no matter how terrifying.

“A while back my siblings and I stumbled upon an object the League of Assassins had been
making extensive efforts to acquire. A scepter to be precise” Damian explained.

Pointing at the black and white videos of the poorest quality that showed the League's
assassins training in an open courtyard bathed in blood, all shrouded in black cloth, katanas
in hand, Harry mockingly stated, “I don’t know about you, but it seems to me like they have
plenty of weapons”

Jon placed a hand atop Harry’s shoulder, his focus on Damian as he asked, “What does it do
exactly? You never told me”

Damian shrugged, “Tim ran tests on it, as did Barbara, neither found anything remotely
magnificent about it, even when legend stated something about it being powerful beyond
measure. Though perhaps it's a different kind of power”

He pulled up a sketch he’d made of the scepter, followed by a blurry and worn photograph
that showed an old man with graying hair, tall yet muscled…one who could only be the
famed Ra’s al Ghul. The photo had to be from the late 1800s, yet the man was there, holding
onto that very scepter.

“My best guess is that the scepter has no real power aside from its meaning within the
League. It's an object I would’ve been sent to find when I came of age to inherit my family’s
throne, something that would’ve secured my position as leader without question” Damian
said, frowning up at the image of his deceased grandfather.

“Talia let it slip once that Nyssa and Dusan, her siblings, were trying to take control of the
League. She may have been looking for the scepter to secure her position as heiress rather
than for something nefarious” Brook added, trying not to linger too much on the memories of
her terrifying interaction with Talia al Ghul that stormy day months ago.

That was the best guess she and Damian had come up with, and no matter how awful Talia
was, or her alliance with Cobalus, Damian had assured her things would be much worse if
her aunt or uncle inherited the position. It made their next move all the easier to accept at
least.

“What exactly are you two getting at? Is Damian’s family in danger of attack then?” MJ
inquired.

“No,” Damian said flatly, “We’re going to give Talia what she wants in exchange for cutting
ties with Cobalus. With the League’s forces leaving his forces, other guilds might even
consider withdrawing their own alliance. It could help us reduce his army without having to
defeat them in battle”

The room was silent.

“You want to make a deal with Talia al Ghul?” Yelena questioned, brows high with disbelief.

Much like Brook, Lena had grown up with tales of the mighty Talia, learning of her
ruthlessness and cunning as something to be admired and feared. Even when the Red Room
and League were enemies, sometimes even distrustful allies in the best of times, the world of
assassins had figures that had to be admired by all. Amongst them had been Ra’s al Ghul,
Talia, Ivan, and even Natalia Romanova.

After having confronted Talia more than once, Brook couldn’t deny the woman was terrifying
enough that she might even surpass her reputation. But Brooklyn wasn’t scared of her, not
anymore. Talia could’ve killed her that day the woman snuck into the apartment, yet she
hadn’t, she’d even mentioned something about liking Brook. That in itself was more
unsettling than death.

“If we decide to open up negotiations, it would only be Damian and I who would deal with
her” Brook insisted, trying to ease her sister’s nerves. Only there was no fear in Lena’s eyes,
only concern.

“We’d have to find her first,” Damian added, “which shouldn’t be too difficult for me,
especially if Cobalus will try and deploy them for the next part of his plan. The real trick to
this mission would be to get the scepter”

Yelena slammed a hand on the table, “You really think Talia al Ghul can be reasoned with?
Brooklyn, you’re dating her only son! She could find it in herself to kill you for that alone
and you want to go talk to her? Even with fire spouting out of your hands and your previous
victory against her under your belt aren’t enough”

Brook sighed. Last time she and Talia had met, that had been exactly what she’d assumed the
woman would do once she started throwing her suspicions of the relationship between her
and Damian in the air. Yet, not a fist was lifted, no threats were given by anyone other than
Brooklyn. Either out of whatever speck of kindness remained in the assassin, or for her own
means, Talia al Ghul seemed to have no problem with her at all.

It's why she’d be joining Damian when the time came to make the exchange. Though Damian
found it hard to grasp, she knew Bruce Wayne wasn’t planning on killing her anytime soon,
and with Talia perhaps knowing more than she should, it would be best that they settle the
matter at once with the woman as well.

Glancing up at Damian, Brook was reminded that a relationship between someone of the Red
Room and the League of Assassins had never been documented or even though possible
amongst the guilds’ world. That made her nervous. Which is why the two teens planned to
exchange the scepter not only for the League’s absence in Cobalus’ plans, but also as
incentive for Talia to leave them be.

“Mother won’t dare raise a hand on Brooklyn if I stand in the way,” Damian reassured,
“Besides, I wouldn’t worry about that kind of danger. Mother won’t hurt her regardless of my
involvement, plus with the promise of the scepter involved, this will be nothing more than a
business transaction. Talia al Ghul may be an assassin, but when it comes to promises with
blood, they’re honored”

Damian sounded certain enough that the topic was dropped. For a second, Brook wondered
where his confidence came from. Was there something she’d missed?

Arm around her shoulders, Lena’s tense muscles relaxed under Jon’s embrace. It had been a
long while since an unexpected kind of trust had settled between Damian and Brook’s sister,
one strong enough that his words alone were enough reassurance without the need for further
questioning.

It was refreshing. Knowing one of her family members was willing to trust Damian fully.

“Why not ask Ivan?” Tanya suggested, unaware of the way Lena and Brook’s bodies tensed
once again, their gazes shifting to the information on the Red Room she’d gathered, “We
know where he is after all. Maybe he could reveal something even if the Scarecrow didn’t”

Wanting to drop the subject as quickly as possible, Brooklyn explained, “It's no use if we go
because he won't say a thing. Not to me, not Aunt Natasha…not even Lena. I’m not willing
to risk falling into one of his mind games, especially since it's what he wants us to do”

Yelena knew the Red Room longer than Brook, she could recognize the signs of their arrival
when the time came for the guild to be deployed. On that front, they already had a better
chance of defeating the Red Room. But just to be safe both her and Brooklyn shared a look
that meant they’d both be installing greater security in their homes as well as those of their
friends in case orders were given to take the two Widows out of the equation.

Nearby, Peter raised his hand the way he often did in class. Damian lifted a brow at the
gesture, and after a tired sigh, he muttered, “Yes?”

“I’m sorry, it's just…the matter of you facing your assassin mother aside, what exactly did
you mean by us needing to get the scepter? I thought you already had it?”
This was the part of the plan Brook had been mildly weary of.

“It’s my father’s possession, not mine. We’ll have to steal it”

Damian’s words halted even the breathing of their companions. Not because they’d do
something against Bruce Wayne…but because they’d be stealing from Batman.

“Maybe you should ask your father to give it to us for bargaining purposes?” Ned suggested
nervously.

“I refuse to speak to him”

Brook’s hand tightened around Damian's at the words. She knew that beyond him not
wanting to confront his father about what he’d said about her and them, this was an issue of
trust. Though she was weary of getting on Batman's bad side after their peace agreement,
even she could not deny that having the man involved in their missions would be a bad idea.

That only left thievery on the table.

“Why? Your dad gave you the green light to date Brook!?” Harry intervened, raising his
hands up in the air exasperatedly. A dramatic notion that only intensified as Damian muttered
a single word that was enough to make his distrust known.

“Allegedly”

She could see it in Harry’s eyes, the suggestion he’d been about to make of Brook being the
one to do the asking. Selfishly, she wanted to prove herself worthy of the man’s son
especially so early into their peace agreement. She had a sinking feeling that this wouldn’t be
the way to do it, and thankfully, there were other selfless reasons to pursue this particular
plan.

“He’s too observant,” Brook offered, “Even if we don’t tell Bruce Wayne why we need it,
he’d want to know why and might try to stop our involvement in this war once he does figure
it out. It could expose this plan, plus all others we’re pursuing to put an end to this”

“You told Lena that Bruce wasn’t that bad a man as you’d thought!” Harry argued, “So why
don’t we just ask? If he’s truly as secretly benevolent as you described then we should have
no problem”

Brooklyn raked her free hand tightly along the roots of her auburn locks, not in desperation
towards Harry, but perhaps in guilt for the scepter they’d inevitably have to steal.

“I know he’s a good man because he cares a lot about Damian, values his happiness and
safety above all as I do. It's because of that drive to keep Damian safe that Bruce Wayne
won’t give us the scepter. That doesn't make him our enemy, it just means he’s a man trying
to keep his son away from an all out war” Brooklyn confessed.

The silence that followed was different from its predecessor. This one carried an air of
understanding, well, from everyone except Damian who merely rolled his eyes at the words.
With a small smirk across her fair skin, Yelena teased, “I think she just doesn't want to look
bad in front of her new friend”

Brook didn’t hesitate to send her sister a middle finger, one which Lena laughed at.

“Then it's settled, we steal it” Damian pipped in, eyes honed on the 3D hologram of his
Manor with focused determination.

Jon, who’d been silent up until now, nervously rushed to their side of the table to stand
between the two ex-assassins.

“Damian! You and I both know it's suicide for unsanctioned heroes to venture into your dad’s
territory, much less invade his home and his secret base of operations. We go into the Batcave
and we may not come out, at least not without being grounded for life. Not to mention your
dad knew your greatest secret all this time, what makes you think he won't know about this?”

Damian pointed at the hologram before them depicting his home, “Because with everything
going on, my family has forgotten about the scepter. We can use it to bargain with Talia, and
if father asks its whereabouts one day, I'll confess while mentioning the League won't be
involved in future Cobalus schemes as a result. It's easier to seek forgiveness than
permission”

“You’re insane…” Jon breathed out in disbelief, needing to steady himself against the side of
the table. Amusingly enough, not everyone shared his trepidation.

“I suppose it sounds like a fun mission. Can I go?” Harry pipped in, removing a hand from
the pocket of his ripped jeans to raise it up in the air as Peter had earlier. A possible sign of
their long standing friendship she sometimes forgot about.

The original plan had been for Brook, Damian, and Jon to go. It would’ve been ideal if Lena
could’ve come, but neither of them had been willing to test the waters of peace by bringing
another Stark into enemy territory. She and Ned would be on standby to alert them of
incoming unfriendlies from their own base, enemies which in this case, were Damian’s
family. But it wouldn’t hurt to have extra help.

“I suppose your espionage skills have improved immensely under our tutelage as of late,”
Damian mused, following her train of thought as Harry broke into cheers of victory amidst
his jumping in place.

“Fuck yes! I’ve always wanted to see Batman's base of operations! I didn’t even know it was
called the Batcave! Sounds so mysterious!”

Brook immediately wondered if her friend was ready for this kind of mission. But she
brushed her worries aside with the knowledge that his espionage reports on LexCorp had
been going well. He’d need more field work experience eventually, so why not this?

Unlike her, Damian wasn’t as hopeful even if he’d been the one to praise Harry’s
improvements earlier. At his developing frown that looked awfully close to a pout, Brooklyn
smiled up at him, squeezing his hand with her own. When he glanced down, the
congratulatory words of their friends towards Harry faded to the background for a second.

“I know he was joking when he called us his parents, but he’s acting an awful lot like a child
right now” Damian muttered, to which her smile widened.

Under normal circumstances, she might’ve tried to reason that if this were their first mission,
they’d be excited too. But her first ‘mission’ had been a cruel and bloody one, no doubt
Damian’s had been the same. Her hope was that, if they trained Harry right, there might
actually be a spy in the world without blood in his hands, one who didn’t have a shady past
that haunted his every dream.

“We’ll look after him,” Brook murmured back reassuringly, “think of this as him shadowing
our movements and nothing more. He’s expressed interest in this field of work, and seeing as
we’re, in fact, not his parents…who are we to stop him?”

“Hilarious,” Damian whispered back, but didn’t oppose the new team lineup for that mission.

Their attention was snagged away when they realized MJ was sorting through the limited
files on the other dozen or so assassin guilds. Despite being heirs, she and Damian hadn’t
been told a lot about them growing up save for the names of their leaders, brief description of
fighting styles, and possible ways to defeat them if need be. That was the problem with being
part of the two most powerful guilds in the world, neither of their masters had seen it fit to
deem any of the other guilds as a possible danger.

Thats where MJ, Lena, Tanya, and Ned would come in. Brook was quick to explain that for
the rest of the assassin groups, it was likely they’d have to confront them hands on as they
would the Red Room. Though it wasn’t ideal, the other groups were infinitely more
manageable a task. But they’d need as much information as they could gather, which is why
they needed Tanya’s access to police files around the world, Lena’s own knowledge of the
groups, and Ned’s and MJ’s research skills to put it all together.

It was likely all those groups would call it quits if the Red Room was defeated and the
League of Assassins abandoned its treaty, but just to be safe, they needed contingency plans.

On that particular front of information, Brooklyn had something else to offer. A mission for
another day.

“There is someone we could talk to that might be willing to divulge information on the
criminal rumors going around town” she suggested, cringing a little as she pulled up the next
file.

Though it mostly contained criminal backgrounds, blurry photos of large scale operations,
and the occasional reported sighting from a civilian, the file itself might as well have been
bathed in blood.

As if contacting Talia al Ghul wasn’t dangerous enough...

Pointing at the photo of the large man in a white tux who managed to dwarf his massive oak
wood desk, Brooklyn ignored Tanya’s curse as she explained for the others, “There is a rising
mob boss in New York that I stumbled upon in my initial search of the criminal underbelly of
the city when I was trying to find the network of the alien weapons. I don't think Cobalus
would deem him worthy of joining his ranks since he doesn't have an army of mindless
soldiers to provide, but I do know this man has an extensive network of information I've been
keeping track of”

“You have?” Peter inquired while committing the criminal’s features to memory. His bald
head, muscles that surpassed those of even Grandpa Steve, and the wealth that surrounded
him.

Damian huffed out a bitter laugh, “She had to make sure none of our names or those of our
families were ever looked upon too closely, especially as we became heroes of Queens”

“You knew about it?” Harry questioned.

“Obviously,” Damian replied simply, not going into detail of the long nights the two spent
gathering information on threats to her city and his. The dragging hours spent talking through
their walkie-talkies when sleep evaded them, using their array of skills to ensure their
families remained safe even if they were technically in a ‘time of peace’ after the Joker’s
attack. The calm before the storm was more like it.

When thinking of their next moves, both of them had been quick to agree that a visit to this
particular criminal might prove fruitful. Certainly more so than questioning Ivan.

“So who is this know-it-all criminal?” Harry asked, bending to lean his head on the table.

“He’s known as Kingpin,” Tanya murmured in distaste, “My dad has files on this guy at
home because it's just too dangerous to investigate him at work. Kingpin has hidden police
allies in the force to keep his stuff under-wraps. All I know from the occasional peek or two
of said files that is a totally legal thing to do is that he owns a shady but legit business that
would grant him a spot at any of the social parties your families are invited to”

Brook nodded, “He doesn't go because he doesn't care to mingle with anyone for
connections, he wants to take over New York his own way”

“Take over the city of the Avengers? Are we sure this guy is sane enough to be reasoned
with?” questioned Ned.

In his defense, it did sound insane. Most people were just hoping to pull off simple crimes in
Manhattan, this man’s ambition to take over a city known to be protected by heroes was a big
ambition. Perhaps too big.

“He cares about money, which is something we can provide, though I’d rather that be our last
resort seeing as we shouldn't be funding a crime lord” Damian said, scrolling to a file that
depicted a small scale model of a midtown Manhattan skyscraper that Kingpin owned. His
base of operations.
“So what do we do, go in and hope he’s in the mood to talk?” MJ said with her usual level of
dry sarcasm, which despite Pete’s best efforts, he couldn’t mask his adoration of even when
he tried.

It was while keeping her gaze on her friend that Brook confessed, “He’s been trying to find
out Spider-man’s identity for a while, so if we bring Spidy with us for some…questioning,
maybe the man will be more susceptible to talk in the face of an enemy”

Understandably, Peter’s mouth dropped to the floor.

“Wait, why me?” Peter gasped out, “I didn’t even know that man existed before today!”

“Before any of us even came along, you’ve been stopping a lot of his covert operations. Too
many considering some of the petty crimes we’ve stopped during patrols lately have been in
an attempt to take your life by what Brook and I figured out” Damian replied, smirking a
little at the sight of Peter’s paling face.

Brook rolled her eyes at the bantering.

“I did? I thought that was just…everyday city crimes. I didn’t even know I was someone’s
nemesis like that!?” Peter muttered with both fear, and perhaps even a little excitement.
Leave it to Pete to be elated about having a mob boss after him.

Brook would have to talk to him later about just how dangerous Kingpin was rumored to be.
The man was over six feet and eight times as wide as she was, the majority of his body mass
composed of muscles, that paired with Kingpin’s extremely advanced martial arts skills could
be considered a deadly combination and the answer to his impressive strength.

It probably didn’t help combat Harry’s joke about her and Damian being the group’s parents
as Damian scolded as a father might, “Then let this serve as a lesson for you to always look
for deeper meaning in things like these”

Peter nodded enthusiastically, then gladly accepted the mission. In fact, by the end of their
meeting, they’d scheduled times for all of their upcoming assignments to fit around their
patrols and school schedules. None of them were particularly keen on missing school, even
for criminals.

Just as they were all getting ready to go home, as Brook and Lena were discussing how to
approach her incoming ‘date’ with Lex Jr to get the most information out of him, Brook felt a
steadying hand on her shoulder halting her steps. One glance back from Yelena had her sister
grabbing Brook’s gym bag and rushing ahead to ‘start the motorcycle’ the two sisters and
Peter would attempt to take back to the apartments.

Already knowing who stood behind her, Brooklyn turned while winding a hand along
Damian’s middle. She got a whiff of that new expensive cologne of rich cedar and musk he’d
insisted on wearing since he found out his father had caught on to their relationship by
something as innocent as her own perfume lingering on him. At this point, it was nothing but
a jab at his father.
With no one in the room but them and the faint flow of the monitors to their left, Brook dared
to relax for a few more minutes. She knew he had to go back home, she’d have patrols soon,
and they’d have a thousand things to polish in their plans before they even dared to execute
them, which would no doubt keep them busy all night.

This was another of those stolen moments, ones she refused to take for granted, especially
after their fight.

Resting her forehead against his chest, she murmured, “We have a lot of things to do these
next few weeks. Explaining it all out loud today made me realize just how much it is we’re
going to be taking on at once”

She felt one of Damian’s arms moving to rest along her back strongly enough as if he were
afraid she’d disappear. Brook’s breath caught in her throat at the delicate yet intimate way his
lips brushed against the top of her head.

“We’ll face it together, right beloved?” he murmured so softly even the occasional echo of
the dark room didn’t catch it.

Brooklyn realized what he truly meant then. Their fight had startled him as much as it had
her, and though it wasn’t in his nature, this was him trying to figure out if all was alright
between them. The gesture alone eased the remaining worries in her heart, had her smiling
against his chest.

“Bialtabe,” she whispered in his mother tongue. Of course.

“We used to argue all the time when we first met, and it had turned mildly amusing once we
became friends. But now I can’t think of anything I hate more than to do so again,” Damian
admitted, tightening his hold on her with his other arm.

Cocooned in his embrace, Brook let out a hum of agreement.

“If you really think about it, this time our fight didn’t last too long. I suppose that has to mean
we’re doing something right”

Leaning back to gaze down upon her, one of those calloused hands slowly lingered atop the
left side of her face. Damian’s fingers never made contact, as if he were afraid to touch her
skin…or perhaps that she might reject his touch. Brooklyn moved her head sideways to
encourage the touch, but waited until he was ready to do so. Always would.

As soon as his palm encompassed her cheek, he began running soothing circles along it with
his thumb. An unspoken apology. Or at least she assumed that's what it would be until
Damian leaned down so their foreheads touched, whispering with his lips hovering close to
her own, “I didn’t mean to scream at you like that. You know I value your input in and out of
missions, right?”

Wide eyed at the admission, Brook let their noses share shy brushes against one another as
she too admitted, “We’re just overworked and briefly lost our tempers. We both had good
points to make, next time we just have to do what we did today, find the middle ground”
Damian nodded, and as the two closed their eyes and basked in their closeness a little longer,
as much as the quick passage of time would allow, Brooklyn swore to herself that fights like
these wouldn’t be as terrifying in the future. She wouldn’t let them be, not when this mattered
more than anything.

From above the stairs, Harry’s cheery voice echoed down, “Though I’m fairly certain you
two aren’t fighting anymore, I’m not sure I could stomach seeing mom and dad kiss, are you
two coming or not?”

Brooklyn’s face morphed into a frown akin to Damian’s, neither of them pulling back as he
complained, “That's not going away anytime soon is it?”

Before she could shake her head, Harry added, “I already changed my contact names, you
really want me to change the way I call you two at school? I’m hungry, let's go!”

The empty threat was enough for Brook to smile. Taking Damian’s hand in her own, the two
made their way up the hidden stairs and only dared to separate their steady hold until they
made it to the last step. Brooklyn may have rolled her eyes at the gathered teens with shit-
eating grins on their faces, and Damian may or may not have sent a quick kick to the back of
Harry’s knee, sending their friend stumbling to the floor amidst his own laughter.

Yelena POV-

Though Yelena once swore to herself that she’d never speak to that particular man again,
things were getting out of control to the point that she’d pry open the skin along her cheeks
like the Joker if it ensured everyone in the world was safe. That thought alone is what had
convinced her to venture to SHIELD’s top priority prisons in the Pentagon, hoping that she
was so far removed from everything Ivan had tried to turn her into to not be swayed from her
righteous path.

Whatever the involvement of the assassin’s guilds with Cobalus had a direct link with Ivan.
Ivan the Great didn’t work through a middle man, he always spoke and bargained with the
boss of any operation. Though Brooklyn and Natasha knew that as well, it was unlikely Ivan
would tell them anything, he hadn’t yet.

Yelena on the other hand, she’d been his student longer. She’d be the one he might consider
feeding crumbs to if it kept her talking to him, enough to try and corrupt her. To free him.
Yelena was not here to offer anything in return for his help, as far as she was concerned, he
owed her for all those years of shit and torture she’d gone through.

It certainly wasn’t a smart idea to do this, especially when no one knew about it, not even
Fury…or her friends. She’d managed to excuse her absence under the guise of attending one
of her dance classes. A hobby of hers she’d begun at a ballet studio a block from home to
take the edge of patrols.

Though she’d invited Brook to join said classes with her at first, her sister had outright
refused. Dancing was private to her, a slice of her past she didn’t necessarily recall
negatively, but she didn’t worship it like Yelena and Natasha did. Sure, they all saw ballet as
the embodiment of life, because despite the cruel reality of it all, that's what it had been.
Dancing had once determined whether they lived or died…but over the long years spent there
under its tutelage as company, the craft had become something else to Yelena, It had been a
way to connect with music, a foreign beauty of the outside world that Ivan had tried to morph
into a deadly quality in theirs. The balance between beauty and death, innocence and
strength…it wasn’t until she left the Red Room that she realized it called to her so much
because they were essentially one and the same.

For once, she was glad Brooklyn had decided to keep her hobby under privacy, otherwise
Yelena would’ve had to find an even more complex excuse to be gone for almost half a day
without any form of contact with her friends or family. Small blessings in a world falling
apart she supposed.

The Dynasty had already vetoed the option of speaking to the man, but Lena knew Brook had
done it for her sake. She owed her sister and the world to at least try and get information out
of Ivan, even if it meant going against her sister and Damian’s orders.

Yelena had used up all of her free time recently to find a way to infiltrate the over-guarded
prison which had been no simple task. She’d eventually found a crack in the system, and
she’d make sure to inform Fury about it after her little visit to ensure none of Ivan’s girls
could use it to their advantage. Even a fool could see that it was a service to the world to keep
that man locked up.

The area of confinement was as impressive as she’d assumed it would have to be for Ivan to
remain behind bars. Only his ‘cell’ had no bars at all, it looked like a fish tank, one guarded
by cameras she’d already deactivated with Ned’s recently created portable virus that had
thankfully succeeded its trial run. Everywhere around the space surrounding said fish bowl
was nothing but a dark void with a drop she’d likely not find out how deep it could be.

In a way, despite the extensive security, getting to Ivan had been the easy part. It was the
prospect of speaking to the man responsible for too many horrors that gave her pause. It
could be so easy to pull out a weapon and end it all, but for once in his miserable life, Ivan
was useful to her beyond the confines of her revenge. Besides, what was that thing Damian
always said? Justice not Vengeance? Yes, that was her new code, and she wouldn't dishonor
her friends and her family by falling back into instincts Ivan had instilled inside her.

Today, Yelena would be the bigger person. Today she’d live up to her status as Queens’ hero.

Swift as a feline, Yelena jumped down just before the closed door, and though Ivan didn’t
startle awake as she might’ve preferred, at least his sleep was interrupted. She hoped that
even without her being here, that his sleep was haunted by nightmares worthy of the
Scarecrow’s gas.

Upon opening his eyes, as soon as he beheld Lena’s disguised form at his doorstep, she had
no doubt the fabric covering everything but her eyes did nothing to obscure her identity from
him.
“What a useless surprise,” was what he said as he leisurely righted himself upon the small
bed, so at odds with his once lavish tastes, “I expected both of my most prized Widows to
make another appearance soon, but I hadn’t considered the traitor to show her face. Could it
be that you finally came to your senses?”

Yelena’s very soul longed to open the door and splatter the clean white surfaces within with
his blood. But she was better than that, her family believed so, as did her town…and Jon.
Especially Jon. She’d once thought the teen naive and foolish for trying to see good in her,
that is until she realized that had a name. It was called faith.

Faith is what would keep her from killing Ivan today with every method of torture she’d ever
been taught. That's how powerful it was, able to ensure even the most brainwashed of
assassins would not raise a single weapon. Despite having all the strength and might beyond
the abilities of any human, that was Jon’s greatest power, his ability to find good in the
impossible.

Even Ivan’s growing smirk couldn’t take that away.

Making sure to change her voice enough that it wouldn't be recognized if any recording
devices were hidden around, Yelena replied, unbothered, “I’m not here for you. I’m here
because I want to know who’s running the Red Room while you’re here. I want to know
where your forces are located, what signal they have to engage. I want to know who you
answer to, who holds your leash and why”

Clad in a garb much like the medical scrubs she wore at her internship at the hospital, the
man looked infinitely less menacing as he turned that cold stare towards her. Yelena didn’t
yield an inch, especially because any step back would send her tumbling towards a most
unpleasant fall, and likely death.

“That’s boring, malen'kiy pauk. I was honestly expecting a different set of questions from
you, perhaps even an apology for my current state,” he replied, heavy Russian accent so like
her own. A remnant of her previous home, one she hoped would fade in time as it had with
her sisters.

Yelena bared her teeth in distaste behind her disguise. She’d forgotten how belittling that
was, being addressed as nothing more than a little spider. He was doing so to get her into
uneven ground, to destabilize her resolve. Tactics that may have worked against her younger
self, but most certainly not in whom she’d become now.

“You and I both know those are the only questions that matter right now”

The man chuckled, “You really think so? Are you so ill informed that you haven't come to me
expecting an explanation?”

Ill informed?

“Explanation of what exactly?” Yelena said, risking the bait. She had eight more minutes to
get some proper answers, a slight deviation could be afforded. Something about this was
wrong, it was as if Ivan thought he had something other than what she sought to hold above
her head.

It made her nervous.

Standing from the bed, Ivan made to stand on the other side of the glass before Yelena,
looking down at her as if he didn’t quite know what to do with the pest that found its way
into his home.

He tilted his head slightly off to the side, then let out a singular huff of amusement, like he’d
figured something out and found it amusing. As if looking down at her wasn’t enough, he
kept her waiting, silently analyzing.

“She didn’t tell you, did she?”

Yelena didn't have the time or patience to play these sorts of games she’d once been trained
to avoid, and perhaps the glass between them made her bold, because she didn’t bother with
diplomacy the next time words rolled out of her mouth.

“I’m not going to stand here and beg for answers to questions I didn’t ask. Either you're
useful or not, but unless you don’t want to suffer from the occasional loss of oxygen from a
mysterious glitch in the system, it would be in your best interest to start talking. It won't be
anything lethal, but I intend to make it annoying enough that you don't get a moment’s rest,
always wondering when it might get a little hard to breathe”

That was a bluff. Though it would fall under the guidelines of the Dynasty’s ‘no killing’
policy, she wasn't’ about to test the waters with harmless torture.

Folding his hands behind his back, Ivan made a show of pondering her proposal.

“I’m speaking of…what do they call 10452 nowadays? Brooklyn Stark. I understand you two
are in contact with one another, otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” he explained, “Last time
my heiress paid be a visit, we discussed a little secret of mine involving you”

Brooklyn hadn’t mentioned anything like that, which either meant Ivan was lying to create
strife between them, or whatever he’d said had been troubling enough that her sister hadn’t
bothered mentioning it.

Preparing herself for the worst, Yelena hoped her intake of breath wasn’t visible to the man as
he went on with a smile on his face, “Didn’t the country’s sweetheart mention I’m your
father?”

Yelena could only attribute the fact that she wasn’t twenty feet under due to her long and
grueling lessons on balance preservation. What he’d admitted to, it felt like a physical blow
more painful than any actual injuries she’d receive from Ivan or the other trainers of her
youth. Out of anything he could’ve said, that hadn’t even been a possibility in her mind for
good reason.

There was just no way it could be true.

Even if her heart felt like it was sinking, Lena tried to focus on all the lives Cobalus was
taking, the innocents that were still in danger but able to be saved. It mattered more than
anything, certainly more than herself.

“Brook probably didn’t believe you,” was Yelena’s response. The only possible reason as to
why she hadn’t bothered to share it with her. That or Brooklyn had worried it would be true
and hadn’t wanted to place that burden on her shoulders.

No matter what angle Ivan was trying to spin this, Yelena was adamant about her trust in her
sister. Brook may be an assassin and spy by birth, arguably one of the best that ever existed,
but she was not cruel by nature. She loved their family and friends more than anything,
enough to pick up her weapons every day to ensure peace, to give up sleep every night to
plan for the horrors and how to prevent them.

In truth, whatever the reason, Yelena held no ill will towards Brook. Especially not about
something like this.

“She should believe me,” Ivan replied, “a simple blood test would prove it all”

Yelena would never dare get a needle so close to the man, not when he could easily kill a
battalion of well trained soldiers with nothing but a toothpick.

“If what you say is true, then why didn’t you make me your heir? It doesn't make much sense
when you would’ve much rather have your descendants ruling the Red Room rather than put
a stranger on the throne”

Ivan tsked, the sound of the disappointed.

“You weren’t my heiress because of one simple and obvious fact. Even as a newborn, she
was better in every way. Down to the blood running through her veins, that child was useful.
Later on, she even proved to be the best fighter amongst all of you, and in the Red Room,
only the strong can rule”

Natasha was the descendant of their empire’s extinct royalty, a treasure personified just for
being born a Romanov. Ivan had cultivated and treasured her for it. Brooklyn’s own
parentage had been a direct link to one of the most wealthy American families of their time,
which was worth just as much as the ancient glory of Russia’s previous rulers. Yet despite
Yelena being born Ivan’s child, even that had not been enough for him to treat her as
specially. Then again….after hearing Brook’s stories of the past, having seen her extensive
scars, knowing of the painful experiments she’d suffered, even having everyone in that
cursed guild trying to kill her…perhaps it was a mercy to not have been on Ivan’s radar in the
first place.

Yelena smiled. If what Ivan said was true and he really was her father and still thought so
little of her…it should’ve stung, but it didn't even phase her. His words had no effect on
Yelena for the first time in her life, partly because she didn’t much care about what her
ranking had been in the Red Room, but mostly due to the fact that she didn’t need birth
parents at all.
She had something better than that now.

In fact, maybe she didn’t need him at all even for the reasons she’d stopped by today. There
were other people that could give them answers, in that matter alone, Ivan was as
irreplaceable as she’d been all her life.

“What of my mother? Was she part of the Red Room or just some unfortunate victim of a one
night stand in a forgotten city where bodies perished by your command?”

Ivan grinned, almost as if he thought he’d won some game left unspoken.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, she was one of your instructors since birth. She thought she was
clever, trying to use the excuse of your birth as a way to gain more power afterwards,
something I simply couldn’t allow. Thus, your birth was…swept under the rug. Is that not
how Americans say it? Sadly, your mother died during the attack on the Red Room six years
ago,”

She knew what he was insinuating, the angle he was trying to play to sway Yelena’s mind and
fill it with reproach. Only it seemed Ivan was seriously underestimating how large her hatred
for their old instructors went. Just as Brooklyn would never shed a tear over the death of her
own birth mother, neither would Lena.

“In that case…” she said, basking in the signs of victory in his gray eyes before she snuffed it
out entirely, “In that case I hope Brooklyn and Natasha made that woman suffer a most
unpleasant death. I have a mother now, and she’s lovely, strong, and kind…she’s perfect”

Ivan’s smile vanished from one second to another, his gaze hardening.

“While we’re on the subject, you should know that you’re not my father,” Yelena finally said,
“Anthony Stark is my father, and I’m not a nameless Widow at your disposal. I’m Yelena
Fyodorovna Stark. Nothing you say or suggest would change that”

One of Ivan’s fists collided against the glass, activating the alarm system that let her know
she had three minutes till security forced their way in. Lena knew Ivan wasn’t angry at the
fact that she’d refused to acknowledge him as her father, he’d only use the title when it was
convenient for him while he was in the cell. What really ignited the fire in his eyes was the
fact that she’d renounced it all before his eyes. There was nothing to lure her in, nothing he
could use to his advantage aside from the information in his mind.

Information Yelena knew he wouldn’t or couldn’t give up.

“Is that so? Mr. Stark took both my Widows…and America has made you soft, you’ve
become weak,” he spat back, banging his fist against the glass one more time. Red lights
encompassed the dark room in reply, a sign that she really should be going unless she wanted
to explain to Fury why she’d bypassed so many rules.

Yelena fired a grappling hook towards the top beams of the ceiling, watching as the gun’s
inner rope shot out with deadly accuracy. If it weren’t for the wall between them, Lena
probably wouldn’t have dared turn her back on the man. But she did then, intent on leaving
without another word exchanged between them.

Weakness wasn’t a word one could use to describe how this place had changed her.

She didn’t need to prove it to Ivan, though. The only blood that mattered was the one she
spilled under his orders for all those years. This was her making up for that now, and though
entirely undeserved, she had a real family to back her up in that long-term pursuit.

That part about family backing her up was probably more true than she’d wagered. Because
once Yelena managed to make it out of the massive government building, mercifully without
being spotted, she found someone waiting for her in the nearby forest road where she’d left
her motorcycle.

Leaning against it was Brooklyn, lazily inspecting her nails, aviator sunglasses propped atop
her head and clad in a floral summer dress. With the rays of light that managed to make their
way past the heavy foliage of the trees, she looked like the embodiment of the very fire she
despised wielding. Surprisingly, her sister didn’t seem angry nor surprised by their stumbling
of paths.

She only looked relieved.

Lena removed the cloth covering her head, pocketing it into the belt of her suit as she asked
with perhaps a bit of guilt, “How did you know I was here?”

Brooklyn smiled at the words, kicking a nearby rock with the heel of her boot as she replied,
“You did a decent job to stay under the radar, there was only one flaw in your plan for this
discrete adventure”

Sensing no animosity settled Yelena’s nerves. But she couldn’t help but wonder how
Brooklyn couldn't be more upset about what some might consider an outright betrayal.

“Which was?”

Her sister raised a manicured finger. “You didn’t text Jon during your mid-lesson break. I was
on a call with Damian when Jon began questioning it, so I figured something might be
wrong. I went to your apartment and found vague notes scattered on your desk most
would’ve considered gibberish. I certainly did, that is until one number stood out to me.
Ivan’s cell number.”

Proklyatiye. Damn.

“Figured it wouldn’t hurt to come check it out,” her sister added with a growing grin,
pointing at the building miles past the expanse of the forest behind them where emergency
wails could still be heard, “The lockdown of the building was answer enough”

“Ivan was right, you really are the best,” Yelena relented, but upon seeing the mild
amusement in her sister’s face that never once shifted towards disappointment or anger, Lena
dared to add, “Who taught you to expand your deductive skills, your future father-in-law the
detective?”

Brook snorted.

“Hilarious,” her sestra sneered, “Though I’m both surprised and disgusted that Ivan talked to
you about me…that doesn’t really matter. I just want to know if you’re alright”

After the years of hell spent in the Red Room, Yelena was sure that even if she were shot by
the Joker himself, she’d still claim to be alright when in comparison to her…their cruel
beginnings. Moving forward to run a hand along the seat of her motorcycle, Yelena took a
second to appreciate the fact that her sister hadn’t prepared a lecture, even more so that she
hadn’t intervened.

“Aside from knowing I have the worst genetics rushing through my veins…yes, I'm ok”
Yelena said, intending for it to come out as a joke, but even by her biased hearing, it sounded
bitter.

Brooklyn’s hand lowered, her shoulders tensing as she bit her rouge lip.

“He told you,” not a question, but a statement.

“He made a point to do so, yes”

Brooklyn rounded the vehicle, placing her hands atop Yelena’s own shoulders, concern
evident in every ounce of her voice as she asked, “You know that I knew, don't you?”

Suddenly it all made sense, why Brooklyn wasn’t mad. It was for the same reason Yelena
wasn’t mad at her sister for keeping secrets. Just as she understood why Brook hadn’t
bothered saying a word of her parentage, her sister likely knew why Yelena had risked this
visit and couldn’t argue past the logic of it. Sure, they bickered at times, played rough with
one another during training, but just as Jon had immeasurable trust in Lena, as did her sister.

The concept of family, of what true sisters were, it never ceased to amaze her.

At Lena's silent nod, Brook dared to ask, voice soft as the whispering winds around them, “
Are you mad?”

“Maybe at Ivan, but not at you,” Lena confessed, “He kept the secret for his own needs, you
did it to protect me. I would’ve likely done the same thing, but I’m still thankful for your
efforts to shield me from that shit truth”

One second, the two sisters stood before one another with a cruel truth hanging between
them. The next, Brooklyn was hugging her, the sound of Brook’s jingling bracelets resonating
like a gentle song as those arms wound delicately around Lena’s shoulders.

“I’ll always try to protect you, pridurok”

Yelena laughed, returning the embrace as best she could. A sensation she was slowly growing
used to like the bandages she wound on patients at the hospital, or the hero work that saved
lives instead of taking them. It was a damn good feeling.

“Bypassing the fact that you called me a moron, I know you will. I really do, which is why
I'll share the fact that I gladly told off Ivan for his taunt, even if he didn’t say anything of use
for the mission”

A louder, melodic chuckle later from Brook that echoed across the terrain untouched by man.
Her sister pried away from the embrace and patted the motorcycle seat.

“I would've given anything to see that, it's definitely worthy of a celebration. Want to stop by
for some ice cream on the way home?”

Yelena beamed, not at the prospect of ice cream even if that was a lovely thought. No, her
undiluted smile was directed at the unspoken fact that she’d made the right decision all those
months ago. Joining the Avengers, the Starks, all of it was the best thing she’d ever decided
to do for herself. To feel loved and valuable to a handful of special people meant a lot more
than blind devotion from millions of Black Widows would've. Maybe she never would’ve
become Ivan’s heiress even with Brook gone, but that in itself was probably the greatest bit
of luck she’d stumbled upon prior to her arrival here.

Yelena may not have gotten any help on how to stop Cobalus today, but she felt free.

Settling atop the seat, Lena patted the space behind her and said, “You have no idea how
much I need a pint of Stark Raving Hazelnuts…let's go home”

She would’ve liked to think that would be the last time she’d have to deal with Ivan, but
something told her she’d have to confront the man again some day. The thought wasn’t as
terrifying as it should’ve been. Not anymore.
 Father & Son, Stark & Luthor

Damian POV-

Considering the amount of times he’d almost come close to death in recent days, it felt
ridiculous to have to venture to the Wayne library for a mere homework assignment. Even if
school work wasn’t of the same caliber as stopping international criminals, there was purpose
to it, enough to draw him away from his never-ending mission for a few hours. He’d never be
able to live it down if his grades fell simply because of a group of assembled villains with
alien weapons capable of destroying cities.

As Damian perused the high dark mahogany shelves, his hand ran along each ancient leather
bound volume before him. The sounds of the pouring rain were his only companion, the
raging storm visible behind the large gothic windows along the dark walls. Though half of
this library had been modified with modern technology and accommodations, each book on
record already digitized, Damian had always preferred to seek his books out personally.

Maybe he preferred the privacy the massive book shelves provided, or perhaps the darkness
of the low intensity ambient lighting was the true comfort. Aside from his unusual nightly
escapades as Robin, Damian had long since preferred the darkness so familiar to him from
his youth. He was a child born in the darkness, one trained to operate in it, after all.

Moving to the deepest and most private corner of the grand library, Damian was met with the
usual sight of his rounded desk, worn brown loveseat glowing a honeyed like shade with the
flickering firelight of the lantern propped atop a painting of the Gotham Bay. From an artists’
perspective, it was nothing extraordinary, at least Damian had always thought so.

He could’ve certainly captured a better rendition if he wished, but the reason this painting
was still hung up in its worn golden frame was because it was one of the last recorded works
of a famed painter of the city long ago. Damian had never bothered looking up its worth, but
it was likely there were more than a dozen wealthy individuals who’d break their limbs off
just to own what he considered trash.

That was the power of perspective he supposed.

Setting down two large volumes depicting his family ancestors, Damian was eager to get to
work if only to temporarily find reprieve from other things he’d rather not ponder on for too
long. Unfortunately, his school assignment involved structuring an essay about a family
member’s life, to find everything and anything about a person of his past…for what purpose,
he still wasn’t sure. Most of his assignments were like that.

He could’ve easily done the essay on one of his immediate family members, but considering
their secret identities and other peculiar qualities of their pasts, he would’ve spent too much
time redacting information to be able to form an essay the teacher would consider a complete
biography of the person. Looking at the lives of Waynes of the past, now that was easier to
write about considering none of them had ever donned a cowl mask in their lives. Unlike his
father.
A man who Damian wasn’t sure if he could write an accurate profile on anymore even if he
ignored the nightly vigilante work and detective hobby. There was a reason Damian had
chosen to work here instead of in his own room, and that was to be off the radar of a certain
father he didn’t feel like stumbling upon just yet. He wasn’t hiding of course, Damian wasn’t
afraid, he just hadn’t organized his arguments yet in regards to what Brooklyn had confessed
to three days ago.

It was a good thing father had been stuck in meetings as of late, not that his extensive Batman
work was easing up in any way, but both things made it easy to go about his life without
stumbling into the man who knew more than he should. At least until today.

The flash of a lighting bolt from a nearby window lit up the nook around Damian, and the
brief pass of light was enough for him to no longer be able to ignore the large figure between
bookshelves the teen had been adamant about pretending to not notice. That wouldn’t have
been believable for too long anyways, both he and father knew Damian’s instincts were far
too polished for that…or at least he’d once thought so.

Closing the nearest book perhaps a little too harshly for its weakened binding, Damian
considered using the excuse of the midnight hour to get away from this particular shit show.
But there was little reason to keep avoiding it, even if father revealed his true intentions
tonight, it wouldn't change the fact that Damian had no intention of leaving his beloved’s
side.

Sure, he craved his father’s approval in all things, like a drug addict sought heroin, but in this
Damian would not compromise. In matters involving Brooklyn, he couldn’t be swayed. In
fact, things had changed so much that now Damian finally understood the flaw in his old way
of thinking. He’d idolized his father as a boy, maybe even hoped to become like him in the
years to come, but now it's like he didn’t know his father in the least.

Bruce Wayne wore a different sort of mask from Batman, but it was a mask nonetheless, and
whatever was behind it…the man refused to share. With anyone.

Keeping his voice disinterested and perhaps a bit defensive, Damian didn’t bother turning
around as he said, ‘I assume you’ve tracked me down to speak of the elephant in the room”

Damian heard the sound of footsteps approaching, the sound of the couch cushions to his
right groaning in protest. Despite having closed his book, Damian didn’t shift his eyes from
the dusty cover, especially as his father’s deep voice spoke up at last.

“I don’t think an elephant is big enough to encompass the size of our pending conversation,
yet I would’ve preferred you came to me instead. I almost expected you to track me down as
soon as you found out about my talk with Miss Stark, it's what you’ve always done, attacked
before thinking,” his father mused, “I guess I just didn't want to put this pressure upon you
even when speaking your mind has never been an issue prior to this”

Damian felt his eye twitching in barely repressed annoyance.

“Don’t patronize me or I’ll break your face,” he bit back, it was the only thing he could do to
keep from both agreeing and disagreeing with the man. Normally, that would’ve been
Damian’s logical approach to anything. Yet it was the importance and delicacy of this topic,
or perhaps his own instincts had changed more than he’d bargained, because Damian hadn’t
once felt the urge to do as father predicted since he found out.

He heard father sigh, the sound echoing over the surfaces covered in plum-colored wallpaper
all around them. A sigh so unlike his sound of disapproval or disappointment Damian had
been expecting. This one was different.

“I realize there are a lot of things I haven’t shared with you”

Damian actually chuckled at that. A dark and bitter sound that probably matched the eerie
vibes of this ancient place. An ancestral tomb of knowledge.

“That's because you don't trust me, father”

Father was quick to counter, “If I didn't trust you, Damian, would I have some of my most
safe guarded secrets at your disposal? Would I be here ready to share some only available to
you?”

Damian kept his gaze on the dancing flame above him within its ancient glass confines, a
reminder of his beloved’s abilities, but also of the fact that he knew she was no fool. If his
father had been planning to put a stop to everything they’d worked towards for months,
maybe he truly would’ve already done something about it. Sure, father probably hadn’t
shared all of his secrets, but enough that Brooklyn was convinced he held no ill will.

Past experiences with the man begged otherwise. Yet here and now, Damian dared to
challenge his father with that very thought. He feigned disinterest, buried his hope and
worries as he challenged, “Your secrets have secrets, father. How am I supposed to take
anything you said to her honestly?”

“I’m here to change that,” was his only response, albeit sounding rather honest.

Father had built a lot of muscle over the years, that paired with his stature, Damian
sometimes wondered how the man was able to move so stealthily. A similar inquiry he had
regarding Todd’s own abilities. Damian barely heard the sounds of father moving towards the
closest end of the couch in his vicinity, heard it, and prepared himself for another fight.

Normally, Damian didn’t mind physical or verbal tests of his strength and intelligence. He
was competitive by design, and not once had he minded taking a hit or two as long as he
enjoyed and won the fight in the end.

“I would’ve preferred to speak to you about this first, and before you say anything, it
wouldn’t have been to start a fight about your decisions. As someone who has sought to
control as many possible variables in life, try as I may, caring for someone has never been
something I could tame. No one can. I know it's not something you chose, but rather an
emotion you felt so strongly it's impossible to ignore. Why would I blame you for feeling
something so mysterious and complex that even I have not figured it out in its entirety?”
father said.
Damian mindlessly flipped the pages of his computational physics notebook, needing to do
something with his hands…with himself, in a moment like this. Father knew things about
him, stuff Damian wouldn't have admitted to even if asked. He felt like his father was finally
seeing a truer version of him, and that's what made him weary, that this secret that held so
many changes and buried truths finally lay before them like meat to be picked at by vultures.
Not vultures, bats would’ve probably been a better description in this case.

“If you’re not here to yell at me, then what is it you really want to say?”

The pregnant pause that followed Damian’s inquiry heightened his nerves, not enough to
draw a weapon, but did little to reassure him that perhaps he and Brooklyn truly had
stumbled upon a miracle when it came to one of their parents.

Out of all the things Damian had expected his father to reply, his blunt question should’ve
been one of them.

“Are you sure about her?”

He let out a scoff, “Wouldn't you have disowned me already if you weren't sure about her?”

“Evading a question with a question will only get you so far with me, son” father chastised
with little bite to his words for once. This was more of an encouraging tone, a person
prodding a snake to move, knowing very well the reptilian could easily become agitated and
deliver a deadly bite.

“I’m not evading, it's just foolish of you to ask me such a thing when we both know the
stakes of my decision. Who would be pathetic enough to discard everything to be with
someone if they weren't sure?” Damian replied, at last swiveling his chair around to face his
father, elbows resting on the arm rests, hands tucked regally onto his lap, eyes sharp and back
straight.

Damian might’ve acknowledged there was no going back from this moment, that didn’t mean
he’d let down his defenses until he was sure father could be trusted. Father must’ve seen that,
because his own posture sagged against the couch, hand moving to caress his temple.

“No matter who you chose to be with, I would never disown you, Damian,” he said, “But
even if I were that type of man…you’ve already considered those consequences and
proceeded anyway. You’re willing to risk that, aren't you?”

He had. That kind of affection and understanding only Brooklyn could provide was
something he’d come to realize was worth more than the wealth of this family, the status of
his ancestors, or even the security of his future. Having someone who knew all of you and
found the beauty in the dark places was a luxury, one Damian had gone too long without. One
he’d grown to treasure.

At times when he caught sight Brooklyn’s discrete and radiant smiles in the hallways, when
he beheld the bright flames propelling her into the sky amidst skyscrapers as he swung beside
her with the aid of a grappling hook, even the few times he’d been able to behold how
peaceful she looked in the mornings while laying in bed…something in his brain had clicked
into place. A realization that the privilege of witnessing that reserved beauty was worth the
wrath of his father.

Even back when they’d only agreed to a premature friendship, he’d even been willing to risk
it all for that too.

“You know I don't do things half-heartedly or approach something without considering every
angle when it matters,” Damian pointed out, cold emerald eyes hardening in preparation for
any rebuttal.

Father surprised him by stating tiredly, “I’m not judging nor forbidding it, just curious about
you two. I have enough pieces on the board to know you and Miss Stark are together, I just
don't know how that came to be exactly. More than that, I thought you might want to talk to
someone about it”

Hmmm. Father was curious. However well informed the Batman was, he didn’t know
everything, and perhaps it was instinct to seek that information. The detective in him
probably wanted to know how the impossible had occurred when every aspect of his and
Brook’s lives had pointed them to a future away from one another. Damian supposed he too
would want to quench that curiosity if he ever stumbled across something with no rhyme or
reason to it.

But it was the softness of father’s eyes, the way he’d foregone any attempt at looking like a
well put together individual for this that made Damian pause. This wasn’t Batman solving a
mystery, this wasn’t Bruce Wayne the CEO either. It was Bruce the father, the one who’d
struggled to live up to that title.

It might’ve been a pitiful sight, but Damian couldn’t find it in himself to chastise his father
for allowing a moment of vulnerability. Not when Damian had indulged in quite a few of
those moments himself as of recent to the point that he no longer saw it as a weakness.

Damian could do his best to explain, lay it all on the table, and if father couldn’t understand
even after that, then that would be that and he’d never speak of it again. If father did
understand at least a part of it, Damian wasn’t sure what that would mean or what he would
do, he supposed he’d have to wait and find out in that case.

“If you are so desperate for an explanation…I wouldn't be able to tell you the exact moment
things changed between us. It was gradual, and despite me fighting it every step of the way,
that's probably the only losing battle I’ll gladly relent to” Damian explained, crossing one of
his legs over the other, “The only way I can describe Brook and I would be like this; Imagine
a vast sky is full of stars. There’s one in particular that glows brighter than all the others, all
alone up there, unmatched and different from its kin. Then came another star that glowed just
as brightly, and no matter how far they were upon that shared darkness, neither was alone
anymore. They’re so bright that nothing could compare. And when they blink, they do so in
sync without meaning to…as if only for each other”

She made everything better, is what he’d tried and failed to say.
Those were fewer words to describe it all, more befitting for someone like Damian who often
preferred things that way. Simple and to the point. But father needed to understand the depth
of the chaos within Damian’s mind since all of this began. Only something of this magnitude,
something that managed to rearrange qualities of himself he’d held on a leash for years, that
had to be expressed extensively for his father to understand that one simple fact.

Father could do nothing to change it, nor could Damian.

Said man was absentmindedly running a hand along his black sweater, something akin to the
turtleneck Damian wore. Many people often stated that the two looked and acted alike, but
Damian knew that to be a partial falsehood now. They may have similar attire preferences,
steady in times of distress, and taciturn by nature. They were well-respected but perhaps not
as well-liked.

But even when it began snowing in hell, Damian would never be capable of smiling as
widely as his father was in that moment. He could even spot repressed glistening liquid at the
edges of his eyes as if it was a reaction from an allergy. All of it, that smile in particular,
didn't quite fit the person Damian had known all his life, the man whose grins and typical tilts
of the lips were as guarded and restrained as the man himself.

It was both terrifying and worrisome.

Again, Damian was left puzzled when all father said to that was, “I never took you as a poet”

Brook had said the same thing once or twice amidst words of his that didn't even warrant
such recognition. He wasn’t sure if he should start taking it as an insult, or a sign of positive
progress.

Amidst this very library, Damian had once read one of Plato's works in which he’d written
that every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish
to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet. Damian hadn’t
understood it then, perhaps hadn't cared to…but he supposed there had been truth in the
words he’d once deemed useless as an infant.

“I’m not,” Damian confessed, keeping hold of his strict decorum despite the mirth across
father’s face, “but it's difficult to encompass this emotion I feel. That doesn't make them any
less sincere. Our feelings for one another are by no means easy, it isn't the eternal perfection I
was led to believe a relationship had to be. Yet I find that I don't mind the imperfections for
once. We decided to make it our own, and thought that requires a lot of faith —something
neither Brook or myself were born capable of believing in— it's what makes it all the more
sacred”

Damian supposed that even as the Wayne patriarch, father’s own emotions for women hadn’t
been met with the opposition as Damian’s had. Sure, he had to be careful not to get taken
advantage of, and when he decided to marry umi, he must’ve had some restrictions due to her
past. But Damian, who’d never dared to do something as silly as a wish upon a passing star,
someone who didn’t believe in hopes and dreams, had allowed a sliver of yearning into his
cold heart for that unattainable dream.
Aware of their vast differences, Damian tried to bridge the gap by explaining rather bluntly,
“Our emotions aren’t fueled by carnal desire like your many past prospects, father. It's trust,
understanding, maybe even patience. All things we weren't fashioned to feel, but found a way
to mold into ourselves for this to work. To me that's worth it”

The undiluted joy in father’s face dimmed back to what Damian would consider to be
‘normal levels’ for the man. Yet it was all still there, the happiness that shouldn't have even
made an appearance after such revelations. For once, Damian wasn’t sure why that had come
to be.

Leaning forwards with arms resting atop his knees, father looked singly impressed as he
stated, “Most adults don't even learn those type of lessons until many mistakes and lovers
have come and gone”

The sound of booming thunder echoed from the outdoors, the glass panes quivering by the
sheer strength of it.

“I’m not one to allow many mistakes father, you know that”

That foreign smile widened again slightly, “I won’t ever doubt it again,”

“You will,” Damian challenged. He had to, considering those that knew Batman had to be
aware that the vigilante questioned everything, never took anything as a given. If he were
otherwise, he’d be a shit detective.

“To be fair, It’s a father’s duty to do so…but I am happy to see you like this. You’ve always
been good at surviving, it's what you were taught to do by the League. But I'm glad to see
you’re doing more than that by daring to live.”

Is that what all this was about? Not a test to see if Brook was worthy, but to wage if Damian
was happy? In truth, he’d never thought about his relationship as something that allowed him
to live properly, mostly because he hadn’t yet processed how devoid of simple pleasures his
life had been prior to it. Not that he’d let father off the hook so easily just because he
managed to state a few truths.

“I suppose it is soothing to have one individual that despite disagreeing with you at times,
you know will tell you the truth always, and never steer you wrong”

Father raised his hands up in defense, “Message received, I won't obscure things from you as
much from now on. Where did you learn such sarcasm anyways?”

“Pennyworth, obviously” was all Damian could say to mask his surprise at the admission.
He’d also inadvertently learned other things from the old man, like accidentally adopting an
English accent in certain words, sometimes referring to cookies and biscuits, but those were
crimes of all those in the Wayne household.

As for his father’s promise, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Damian had never been one
to believe ignorance was bliss, but there was a certain reluctance in wanting to know more of
what went on in his father’s head. Maybe it was due to the rarity of it all.
Damian might’ve considered the conversation done and over, but father stretched out a hand
to stop the teen from rising from his chair. Though he looked reluctant to do so, some of
father’s seriousness returned.

Before Damian’s stomach could sink at the thought that this may have all been a set up,
father explained, “Regardless of my approval and respect for what you two have, it's also my
duty as your father to tell you all relationships hurt at some point. I hope neither of you give
up so easily when that day comes, that you continue to lean on one another when the hurdles
come”

Not an intervention, but a warning. One Damian wouldn’t take lightly, but had little concern
for seeing as he already knew what happened when he and Brook argued despite their new
status. They’d found middle ground, worked things out on the spot. It hadn’t shaken what
they had, not for long at least.

“Rest assured, even if it's the nature of caring for an individual that we’ll inevitably stumble,
what we have matters, and it's in our nature not to give up on what we care about” Damian
confessed, realizing it was easier to surrender crumbs of his thoughts to his father the more
he did it.

The teen’s mask of indifference didn’t falter until father’s next words. A simple sentence that
had Damian’s mind spinning at last, his heart beating erratically, and his composure falling at
the seams.

“I can see that, and I think it's one of the most noble causes you’ve ever fought for. I’m proud
of you for that”

How much of himself would Damian have given to hear those words over and over again?
I’m proud of you. Damian couldn't count the number of times he’d imagined a scenario in
which he heard the very admission, but it had never been here in the secluded part of the
family library, talking about a forbidden relationship. He’d thought the words would come
after Gotham was saved by his actions, maybe after his first solo mission was complete.

In a way, Damian supposed his first solo mission had been the cause. Only father was not
praising him for getting information out of the Stark to stop this issue with the alien weapons
by themselves. It was for the one thing no Wayne should’ve been ok with…something his
ancestors, both Wayne and al-Ghuls would burn him alive for.

“Never thought you’d be proud of me for courting a Stark,” Damian tried to bite back, though
he’d failed to summon that sarcasm learned from Pennyworth. There was only a breathless
confession, the growing feeling of fulfillment in his heart, and the effort to keep a smile from
blooming across his own face.

Whatever father beheld in Damian at that moment, it had the man walking over to sit atop the
desk space beside Damian’s chair. Placing a sturdy hand on his shoulder, the towering man
added, “I’m proud of you always, Damian”

Damian closed his eyes, an attempt to stifle and chase back an unexpected wave of emotions.
He could only bask in the praise, the comforting feeling of father’s hand atop his shoulder. It
felt like a chapter of his life was complete, the long term mission of earning father’s
acceptance now achieved.

It had been difficult to find a way to articulate what he felt for Brooklyn, but it was near
impossible to describe how this felt. Damian didn’t bother to try. Instead, he did what he did
best, falling back onto emotions more suited to his arsenal.

“I appreciate your approval, however long it lasts, but if you ever hurt my beloved again…”
shit, he hadn’t mean to call her that before his father. He hated that the man beside him
smiled at the words as he kept going, “if you hurt Brooklyn Stark, I’ll forego our peace
agreement and show you just how willing I am to fight for this relationship. If memory
serves, even I can defeat the Batman”

Father patted his shoulder once, twice, that smile never leaving his face. He didn’t even look
troubled by the threat.

“I don’t doubt it. But I have no plans to hurt…your beloved. Though I might be defensive if
she ever hurts you. As your father, I can’t help that” then after a brief hesitant pause, he
added, “I’d prefer if you didn’t let Miss Stark know yet, but it was difficult to hate her once I
realized more of who she truly was. I had to accept the role of hypocrite to keep up my mask
before you all. But you should know she wasn’t the only one that received this trial of sorts
just because of her last name. You don't think I tested Kori’s intentions at some point? That I
silently kept tabs on whoever your siblings were dating behind my back since their teenage
years? Jason especially”

It certainly wasn’t hard to believe, yet no one had ever said anything.

Father added with more care, “Our family is special, it means everything to me, and my
weariness of individuals isn’t so much about the integrity of our secret identities, as it is me
trying to wage if that someone will be able to deal with the dangers that surround us”

“Brooklyn is a more than capable fighter,” Damian argued, already on the defensive on his
beloved’s behalf.

Before Damian could add anything, father explained, “I know she is. I don’t care who trained
her or how she’s expanded those skills. I care more that she always fights alongside you, I
care that she saved my pregnant wife at the cost of her own armor for battle. I care that she
was willing to save the lives of your siblings when the unfortunate situations presented
themselves. That’s how dealing with the dangers around us is handled between family, and it
means more to me than anything in the world”

So father had noticed. He’d cataloged each save, all the things Brooklyn had done that
someone of her family background shouldn’t have even considered. He wondered if his umi
remembered the time Brook saved her and the unborn baby, if Drake recalled the time she’d
thrown a knife towards an enemy to save his life, if Gordon would ever come to realize the
reason she could walk was thanks to a Stark. Would they be as grateful as father clearly was?

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you’ve noticed that”

Father grinned, “I notice more than you think, like the time my children started an online
rumor that Bruce Wayne was secretly dating Batman, or the times you all messed with the
clocks around the house to get more sleep during the weekend”

He had noticed! It had been Jason that had once started an ongoing joke that despite father
being the best detective in the world, he was clueless to the happenings inside his own home.
But father had known all along and done nothing about it, no one had ever been grounded,
though he supposed the disappointment of elaborate pranks going unnoticed was punishment
enough at times.

“Why not stop the insubordination?” Damian asked, genuinely confused as to why the man
would allow all of this knowingly.

Father’s gaze shifted away from his son for the first time during their conversation, veering
towards a distant bookcase of little importance.

Though his voice didn’t falter, nor did it fall to a whisper, Damian sensed some unspoken
emotion behind it as he said, “Because if you’re all still playing pranks on me, it means
you're not afraid of me”

Damian almost burst out into a fit of cruel laughter right then and there.

“You think we’re scared of you?”

Father was eyeing the flora and fauna section with far too much interest as he replied, “I
think that after not seeing eye to eye for so long, any negative emotion towards me is
acceptable. Why wouldn't you tell me about Brooklyn Stark otherwise?”

“Because…”

Damian wasn’t afraid of his father, he’d just been weary of his reaction to a forbidden
relationship that could very well destroy any crumbs of trust and respect between them. But
that wasn’t fear…that was a strategic decision to withhold information.

Even Damian knew that was a poor excuse.

Amidst the sounds of the pouring rain hanging between them when nothing else could, father
intervened, “To be clear, I don't hate the Starks more than I love you. You’d do well not ever
doubting it again,”

I’m proud of you.

I love you.

Curse his father for being so careless with his words.

“My promise still stands, you know,” Damian added sheepishly, “You hurt her, and our next
heart-to-heart won't be so civil”
Father turned his gaze back on Damian. There was not an ounce of belief that such a fate
would come to pass. That meant Brooklyn really didn’t have to worry about his father after
all, which was odd considering Damian had always believed that in the impossible scenario
in which one of their parents would find out and accept their relationship…it would be Mr.
Stark that might have it in his ‘heroic’ heart to be more understanding.

Is this how villains felt after being bested by Batman? No wonder most of them went insane.

“It's a deal,” father said, stretching out a hand to seal the deal.

Despite his aversion to being touched by anyone other than Brook, Damian took it. He shook
his father’s hand without an ounce of hatred or distaste, a deal made between men of equal
standing for once.

“One last piece of unsolicited advice,” father said as he stood from the table’s surface, “Love
and pride don't mix well, son. Be careful with that,”

Damian had a feeling that the last bit of ‘advice’ hadn't been one his siblings had been told
when they’d begun dating. Even so, Damian could not blame his father for deeming it
necessary. Pride had been his ally for years, for most of the childhood father had been a
witness of.

It didn’t sting the way he expected it to, maybe because he knew he wasn’t a person driven
by that emotion anymore.

“Would I have risked my pride to be with Brook if I hadn’t already considered that?”

Father smiled at the words, but whatever else the man had been about to say was cut short by
the sound of the library’s doors opening, the faint traces of nearing footsteps against the
carpet. This late into the night, whoever came to seek them out couldn’t possibly be doing so
for something other than bad news. Both he and father must’ve thought so, because as
Damian retrieved his katanas from the table, father got into a battle stance.

Only it wasn't an enemy that appeared from within the labyrinth of bookcases, it was Grayson
clad in Wonder Woman pajamas of red and blue. He stopped at the threshold of the halls and
the working nook, eyeing the pair with an unspoken question in mind.

“What is it?” father asked, “Is the Joker at large again?”

Dick blinked away his confusion, then shook his head with a bright smile on his face.

“Alfred said he saw you come in here earlier, B. I didn’t expect little D to be here, though I
suppose it saved me a trip around the manor” his brother mused, then added with perhaps
more excitement than he’d seen on his brother in a while, “We actually just got word back
from the hospital about the baby reveal we were deprived of. They sent over the results…and
Kori just so happens to have our own results as well!”

That's right, he’d forgotten all about that after the Joker had dropped a building on them.
“Everyone was woken up already and they’re just waiting for you…but do we need to talk
about why you two are here at one in the morning?”

Damian didn’t find much importance in the gender of both babies, but he understood it was
tradition to make a big deal about it. His family was excited, therefore Damian would go to
offer his silent support. Brother or sister, niece or nephew, Damian would protect both small
humans the same…they were family after all.

Rolling his eyes, Damian tried to walk past his taller sibling as he said, “Nothing that
concerns you”

Dick managed to catch him before he fled, wrapping an arm around Damian’s shoulders
which the teen was perhaps too tired to shrug off.

“Your safety and joy always concern me, baby bird” his brother teased, leaning down to
pinch Damian’s cheek. That Damian did slap away, “Don't frown like that, Alfred made
oatmeal cookies for the occasion. Your favorite!”

Damian wouldn't say it out loud, but he was rather hungry after the truckload of emotions
he'd just suffered through.

“It's a useless amount of sugar for a late night snack, but if you insist, I suppose I can make
an exception for tonight,” Damian said, almost regretting his wording as Dick beamed.

Seemingly not done with his mocking words, Dick teased as they worked their way down the
knowledge-filled halls, “That's the spirit! Besides, you should be excited about not being the
youngest in the family anymore! Though that doesn't mean we’ll love you any less, ok?”

Beside them, Damian could’ve sworn he caught the sight of father smiling at them. As if he
knew all of Damian’s insults for Dick were devoid of hatred. Grayson was an exception to
many things just as Brooklyn was. Sure, Damian would gladly and rightfully inherit the title
of Heir of Wayne Enterprises, that part of his father was one Damian had never had trouble
with.

As for ever becoming the next Batman…the more the years had passed, that answer had
changed. Damian never told a soul outside of Brook during one of their late night talks, but in
the future, he’d much rather inherit the mantle of Nightwing. Dick had raised him just as
much, if not more than Bruce. He’d been his primary mentor during patrols, the only one that
dared to treat Damian with as much love and affection as possible despite the teen’s stubborn
words and threats.

Just how it hurt Brook not to tell her family about their something more, it bothered Damian
to keep things quiet from Dick to some degree. Even when his brother had every reason to
judge him…he never had. After their rocky first meeting, that had to have been the last time
Dick had regarded him with anything other than patience and kindness.

Damian almost wanted to come clean with his brother now considering father had reacted
well against all odds. His brother would no doubt pester him, but he’d probably be able to try
and understand…no, Damian couldn't take that risk yet. Not when Dick had a loose tongue
and some of the others might not be as understanding.

Father knew that, otherwise he would have encouraged Damian to come clean right then and
there. Neither were willing to put the incoming and precious family moment at risk by saying
a thing regarding Brooklyn Stark, and it was because of that silent support that Damian was
suddenly glad at least his father was aware of his secret.

That early morning, other unspoken secrets were revealed not long after. It wasn’t anything
as daunting and forbidden as Damian’s own guarded truth, but rather a secret once interrupted
by tragedy now revealing itself as a glimmer of hope for the future. The promise of a sister
and a nephew coming to light before the day’s sunrise could even make an appearance.

Damian had stood off to the side, watched the others revel in the news, smiling, crying,
hugging one another. The promise of their peculiar family growing by two was good news,
but the teen had never known how to be a part of…that kind of revelry. Only when umi
approached him did Damian ease his usual scowl, showing reverence to his mother by
placing a calloused hand atop the bump that was her stomach.

A silent greeting to an unborn sister. One that unlike him, was already guaranteed to be born
into a full and loving family. Unlike Damian’s own circumstances, looking around the room
made it clear that the child…both children, were already loved unconditionally.

It didn’t bother him as it might have years prior. Not in the least.

When he locked eyes with his father amidst Pennyworth's unplanned speech on the meaning
of family, the man shot Damian a subtle nod. An unspoken reassurance that despite the secret
he harbored, it changed nothing about his position amongst them.

Damian, despite himself, almost felt the urge to smile in relief at that very moment.

Jon POV-

Jon’s godfather was a complicated man, but no one in Gotham could disagree when
describing Batman as…territorial over the city he’d tasked himself with protecting. Ever
since their youth, Damian had been selfish over the things he cared about too, a habit he’d
seemingly outgrown with time. Until today.

Despite the negative connotations that often came with being associated as such, even Jon
couldn’t blame his best friend today. If he had to watch his girlfriend go on a date with the
son of their greatest enemy…he wouldn’t have been too happy either.

While Jon might’ve wallowed in self-depreciation, Damian was deadly calm, almost as if a
dark aura was surrounding him. That was the thing about his best friend, he didn’t need to
showcase how deadly and powerful he was, one could just feel it on him. That had grown
tenfold since they’d entered the little restaurant clad in what could be considered rather
pathetic disguises.
Unfortunately for them, Tanya was visiting her grandmother this weekend in Star City for her
birthday (a milestone that the group had already celebrated at school the day prior), which
meant the only fashionable individual in the group aside from Brooklyn wasn’t able to steer
them in the right direction. Jon’s blond wig didn’t look half bad, but maybe his attempt to be
the furthest thing from himself had backfired, because his Hawaiian shirt sure was catching a
lot of eyes. As for Damian, he’d obviously rejected any major change no matter how much
he, Peter, Ned, and Harry argued otherwise. That's why he was seated between Jon and Peter
in the large booth, an attempt to hide his true identity where the cap and sunglasses failed to
do so.

Despite the arriving ‘couple’ below, Ned’s gaze was still honed on the teen seated next to
him. Disbelief and amusement written all over it.

It had been Harry’s idea to get one of the tables on the indoor balcony of the second floor,
and though he didn’t look nearly as ridiculous as Jon, Harry’s lack of subtlety (meaning a full
on gothic look) was by choice. It was probably best for the five boys to be so out of sight, Jon
still wasn’t sure how Brook would feel about them intervening this closely, they were
supposed to be with Lena and MJ back at Peter’s apartment, listening in to the conversation
through the earpiece Brook snuck in.

They hadn’t planned to rush across town, sneak in a reservation with the aid of Harry’s last
name and wealth, to watch carefully from up above. But Damian wouldn’t shut up about
them needing to be closer in case Brook needed backup, to which none of them dared to say
the only danger Lex Jr posed was probably that he’d try to hold Brook’s hand or maybe even
sneak a kiss. She would’ve broken the boy’s hand easily without them being here if that was
the case, but it had become undeniably clear that if they didn’t accompany Damian, he
would’ve just come on his own.

Jon wasn’t foolish enough to think they could stop Damian on a good day, even with his
superhuman strength and Pete with his enhanced senses likely didn't stand a chance if the
Wayne heir was motivated enough. The reason for their company hadn’t been to hold his best
friend on a leash, but rather to support him no matter how much Damian wanted to pretend
this wasn’t a difficult situation for him.

“I don’t like this,” Damian muttered grumpily beside him, glaring holes at the table down
below on the other side of the room, the only one arranged with candles, an elegant white
table cloth that matched the drawn curtains before the rustic round window at its side for
privacy. The flowers seemed like a bit much, a large bouquet of plants which Jon could never
hope to name despite living part time in a farm.

The finest plate settings had clearly been reserved and extra polished for these most unusual
guests at the steakhouse restaurant known for its premium cuts. If Damian wasn’t already
enraged with Lex Jr for asking Brook out on a date, bringing her to a place that only served
meat as the main dish had probably increased that hatred tenfold.

“To be fair,” Harry muttered, “you already don’t like much, Damian”

True, Jon thought. But the one thing Damian probably liked above all else was Brooklyn, and
she was currently taking a seat on the chair Lex Jr had pulled out for her. Brook had yet to
turn on her earpiece, but even this high up, Jon’s super hearing would be able to catch
everything…as Damian had predicted. Speaking of the devil, Jon figured that if smoke could
come out of his ears, it probably already would be. Damian looked livid, probably because
any other feeling rising to the surface wasn’t to his liking.

Beside Harry, Ned eyed the pair scanning their menus, asking nervously, “What if Lex
catches sight of us? Don’t you think he’ll recognize Damian and Harry at least?”

Harry elbowed him on the side, “What’s Lex gonna do? Make faces up at us?”

Jon stifled his smile, especially as Ned’s tanned skin bloomed a pin blush, “Whatever, but
don’t you think we look suspicious though? Five teenagers sitting together at a fancy
restaurant on a weekend?”

“We’re blending in just fine, relax. It would only look suspicious if we were all making out or
something”, Harry said, wiggling his eyebrows at Damian just to piss him off, maybe to
distract him from that anger that seemed to be building up the longer he stared down at the
private date.

The old Damian would’ve certainly leaped up across the table and choked Harry to death for
any type of joke thrown his way. But now, all Damian did was roll his eyes and say drily,
“You’re not my type”

“Rejected again,”Harry replied ‘dejectedly’ as the other boys did their best to hide their
laughter with coughs or behind menus.

Jon would never voice it, not when it could cost his life, but he was glad Damian had learned
to allow the occasional joke here and there. That he trusted the group enough to join him on
this mission as much as he trusted them with his and Brook’s secret. He knew it mustn't be
easy for him to do, but pointing out the leaps in his efforts wouldn’t end well either.

He had no choice but to be silently proud of his friend and nothing more.

Deciding to placate Ned, Jon tried to be reassuring by stating, “Relax, not all our plans are
awful…just most of them and even then we’re all alive. Unless someone throws a tantrum,
this will be quick, they’ll be in and out in no time”

At least he hoped so. Ned wasn’t wrong in being nervous when they had a knack of attracting
trouble to their doorstep. The school dance had only been damning proof of it, and that had
gone relatively well all things considered, so unlike the other experience they’d had fighting
an enemy on school grounds last time.

Before Ned could point out another thing that could go wrong, a waitress around their age
stopped by with a notepad in hand…and her eyes immediately locked onto Damian’s
obscured frame. Jon wasn’t sure the girl was blinking as she took in whatever the sunglasses
and cap didn’t hide.

“Hi, I’m Lola!” the brunette said, not bothering acknowledging anyone else at the table, even
Harry who looked a little startled at not being ogled at for once.
Damian’s mind must’ve been somewhere else, likely pondering whatever was going on down
below, because he answered without looking at the girl.

“I suppose we can order appetizers now,” he said, gesturing for the others to state their orders
while he peeked down the railing towards the couple just beginning to order their own food.

Jon and the others blurted out basic orders despite Damian having offered to pay for a buffet
worth of food for their services. Harry had tried to flirt with the waitress, maybe out of habit
or just in genuine concern he’d been overshadowed by a Wayne. Either way, Jon had to bite
his bottom lip when Lola outright dismissed him, looking eager to hear Damian’s order if
only to hear him speak again.

When his gaze remained elsewhere, the girl mused, “I bet you’re a troublemaker, aren’t
you?”

Harry choked out a cough, and when no one else replied, Damian must’ve realized he was
being addressed.

“I just have that kind of face. I’ll have a glass of water, chilled” Damian replied coldly,
disinterested in wasting time speaking to the girl when he was watching Brooklyn with every
ounce of his attention. As if the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Stunned by his disinterest, the girl merely nodded and left to fetch their starters. With Jon’s
super hearing he heard the girl speaking to her coworkers in the kitchen, more like panicking
that her efforts to flirt with the ‘strange yet handsome boy’ had gone unnoticed. Her
coworkers were trying to reassure her, suggesting other things to do or say, completely
unaware none of that would have any effect on Damian.

The only thing his best friend cared about was the date his girlfriend was in the midst of
downstairs.

Once their drinks had arrived, the usually observant Damian hadn't even noticed, which
prompted a series of knowing smiles around the table from the other boys.

“Damn, you really do care about her…” Harry muttered, sounding genuinely impressed as he
followed Damian’s gaze down below.

Jon’s friend may be willing to ignore waitresses and deliveries, but he’d never been one to
back down from an insult or challenge. Swiftly turning back to face the group, Damian let out
a tired sigh and said, “Is it so hard to believe I care for Brooklyn? I thought we’d gone over
this already and I was perfectly clear that my devotion to her was unwavering”

“We have,” Peter said soothingly, “I think Harry is just...surprised”

Harry nodded, tilting back in his chair as he mused, “I watched you beat the crap out of more
than a dozen villains the other day and given your…lack of positive emotions from all the
years we’ve known one another, it's taking a while to let it all sink in. You ex-assassins sure
are hard to understand”
Damian, surprisingly, didn’t pull out a Batarang and threatened how easy it could be to
understand one with a blade. Instead he considered the words, letting them stew in his mind,
and though Jon couldn’t see his eyes behind the aviator shades (which he damn well knew to
be Brooklyn’s from all the photos Lena had shared of the two), he figured there had to be
something other than anger behind them.

“Understandable, I suppose. Assassin genealogy wise, Al-Ghuls may be known for their
strength, power, and unwavering resolve to do anything to achieve their goals. What many
may not know is that they aren’t as cold hearted as they appear when it comes to the most
primordial of emotions” Damian explained, “Ironically, when an al-Ghul cares for someone,
it's for life. They are solely devoted to that single individual —even if due to our strict
upbringing— that love tends to look a little different than the way such cataclysmic emotion
is usually portrayed. So rest assured, my emotions for Brooklyn haven’t, nor will they ever
waver”

Damian glanced down below, and something like a cross between annoyance and disgust
flashed within his eyes at the way Lex was laughing along to Brook’s words. Words still not
heard over the coms.

“Different how exactly?” Ned asked nervously.

Damian sighed. Though Jon usually kept from asking too many questions about Damian’s…
maternal family, even he couldn’t deny he was curious. Jon’s godfather and many of his best
friend’s siblings had lived in the League of Assassins, but aside from the violence and skills
they learned there, the teen didn’t have the slightest clue what Talia al Ghul might’ve thought
important to teach her son for him to have become such an isolated person for so long.

Prior to today, Jon had been certain al Ghoul’s probably outright rejected the idea of love…
yet here was Damian, saying it was there, just not the way Jon had been taught to look for it.

“If thought about in the sense of modern fairytales, the al-Ghuls are the bad guys no matter
what way one tries to spin the tale. Even I can acknowledge that” his friend explained,
“While a hero may show their devotion by rescuing the troubled maiden from the villain,
their noble heart would have them protect the world at all costs before their lover. An
admirable quality most would see as the epitome of goodness in a person. An al-Ghul, on the
other hand, they cherish said loved one with an ardent force that could shake mountains and
shift the fate of the world. For that person, an al Ghul would not spend their lives doing good
deeds to prove their worth, they would be willing to sacrifice anything and destroy all”

Now that he thought about it, Jon understood Damian's family was selfish with their hidden
and coveted emotion, that they might do anything in their power to keep their loved one safe
and protected. The al-Ghuls would bring kingdoms to their knees for that special someone, be
as deadly as a strike of lighting if anyone dared to harm that person. In some ways, it was a
love stronger than what most experienced, but it could turn into something darker, an
unhealthy obsession…as was the case with Talia’s infatuation with Bruce Wayne no doubt.

Talia who tried to destroy Gotham so that Bruce may rule it as she thought he should.

Talia who drugged Bruce so Damian could be conceived.

Talia who despite her skills and connection to Damian’s grandfather, always insisted Jon’s
godfather should be their next king.

It all sent a chill down Jon’s spine by merely thinking about it.

Precisely following that thought, Damian explained, “It's not always an admirable devotion.
The only reason father is not locked away at the League's base, or his new wife dead, is
because mother knows Bruce would not stand for it and could actually turn that displeasure
into a fight won in his favor”

“Your assassin mother actually loves him?” Ned asked nervously.

“Even when Bruce would never love her, mother still likely has not moved on from that
poisonous affection for him. Probably never would if she lived a mortal lifespan or for
hundreds of years” Damian mused, glossing over the prospect of immortality that had their
friends open mouthed and aghast.

Fingers drawing unseen patterns atop his napkin, Damian added, “My grandfather was not
known to be the best in that regard either. When love struck the Demon's Head, entire cities
were burnt to the ground, and as I understand it, the keeper of his heart ran away in horror”

A maiden fleeing a most vicious villain. Fairytale stuff.

Jon wondered if Damian took that as a precognition that his own relationship might not end
well. But he knew his best friend enough that when Damian was determined to do something
right, he put his heart and soul into it. The way he was talking about all this, it was as if he’d
pondered long and hard about the mistakes of his predecessors and was determined to be
different from them.

Damian probably strived to handle the unspoken emotion properly, even when his ferocity for
said emotion would likely be of equal strength as any of his family before him.

Harry mused, “Not that I think you’ll do any of that…world burning and all, but have you
tried to think about what kind of boyfriend you want to be instead? I grew up with parents
who probably loved one another more than anything and I still don’t know what love is
supposed to be. But you got dealt a bad card in that department…”

Damian rolled his eyes, looking hesitant about speaking again. Yet there must be a level of
trust he deemed worthy for all of them, because he explained, “My ancestors may be ruthless
murderers, but not all of their traditions or approaches for someone we’re fond of are bad. In
fact, the least deadly of said traditions was put into play not long ago”

“Please tell me you didn’t do something like gift Brook a rare gem from the Himalayas. I’m
not poor, but I know for a fact you’ve always come from heavy wealth. It would make the
rest of us look bad if you gave your girl infinite riches even if she’s obviously worth it” Harry
teased.

“The al-Ghul’s were…known for their amassed wealth spanning centuries, but the tradition
actually calls for simplicity for this gift. I’ll have you know that though I am mostly of Arab
descent, I do also have Chinese roots that call for a most peculiar custom mother once told
me about. It involves gifting one's beloved a comb to make intentions of courtship known”

“A golden comb then, from a deceased queen? From a pirate’s secret treasure?” Harry
pressed.

“The material or shape doesn’t matter, the comb itself was the true importance of the gesture,
you imbecile. It signifies that you were serious in your adoration…and further down the line,
that you have intentions of spending a lifetime with said individual. I’m not sure when my
family started adopting it into our close-guarded traditions, but seeing as al-Ghul’s tend to…
live a while, its meant to show commitment in the least deadly way I could think of”

“Bai tou xie lao, it's a famous Chinese idiom meaning something along the lines of…the
happy couple will be together until their hair turns white, right?” Peter pipped in.

“At least someone at this table isn’t completely clueless”

Peter blushed, “Actually, MJ told me about it from some book on Chinese culture she was
reading once”

“Now that makes more sense,” Ned said with a teasing smile.

“So you just gave Brooklyn a comb and now she thinks you’re endgame? That's insanely
badass, most of us would’ve just given flowers and called it a day” Harry challenged.

Damian was silent, shifting his gaze away from them.

“You didn’t tell her what it meant, did you?” Jon said, not exactly surprised…but curious that
Damian would choose to withhold information from her. As he’d come to understand it, it
wasn’t their way.

“All of you better keep your mouth’s sealed or I’ll staple them shut,” Damian said, though
Jon was willing to wager that the insult was mostly for show, “Though if you must know, it
just so happened that her usual comb was recently found broken amongst her things. I was
just being attentive and provided a replacement for an object of everyday use”

Jon just knew Damian had broken the comb himself just to have the excuse to purchase one,
to give Brooklyn that unspoken promise of adoration without her knowing or Damian
looking like a simp.

Clever…his best friend was too clever at times.

But the masked gestures of affection, they were Damian’s way of trying to be a better person
than his predecessors even if they weren’t exactly executed as most people would choose. In
a way, Jon figured they might mean more that way, doing little things that were harder for
him to accept for the sake of a person’s happiness.

It's probably why no one had it in them to tease him further. Not that they could’ve, seeing as
their waitress was back, ready to take their orders.
Much to Harry’s dismay, the girl still turned her undivided attention towards Damian even
when the question should’ve been addressed to all of them. They’d all muttered their own
orders, and it might’ve been impressive that the girl could write without looking, if it wasn’t
for the fact that her gaze never left Damian.

“What will you have, handsome?”

Damian’s gaze was once again down below, likely cataloging every relented smile and laugh
from Brooklyn granted to another guy for the sake of this mission. Gently elbowing his
friend, Damian didn’t shift his eyesight as he simply stated, “A salad. Nothing else”

The waitress paused her scribbling, smile faltering as she inquired, “You want to order a
salad at a steakhouse?”

“Do you want a decent tip?” Damian replied, and before Jon could intervene for the sake of
politeness, the waitress’ faltering smile returned in full force. It almost looked fake, Joker-
like enough that Jon and Harry who were closest to her backed up a bit.

“Don’t get me wrong, I think it's great! Salads are healthy, and most guys here try to prove a
point about their masculinity by eating as much meat as they can” she said, to which Harry
rolled his eyes at, something only a gentle kick under the table from Peter halted before the
girl noticed.

It was after said words that Damian looked at her at last, but just as the girl smiled at the
prospect of having his attention, the deadpan look he shot her had that smile disappearing
entirely. It was as if he wasn’t sure what she was still doing there…that had her retreating
back to the kitchen.

From what Jon could tell, she’d regrouped with her coworkers to concoct another strategy.

Under normal circumstances, Jon might’ve probed Damian to at least try and be more polite
with strangers no matter their intentions. But he was strangely protective of what Damian and
Brook had, probably because aside from those at this table and their remaining friends were
the only ones that would approve of it.

Well…apparently Bruce Wayne didn’t have any qualms with it either, a fact that Jon didn’t
quite believe just yet. Especially because Damian had spilled the beans of the conversation
with his father at three in the morning over a phone call for which Jon was half-asleep for.
But even with the Batman as an unlikely ally, it’s not like anyone else would be lining up to
defend the two enemies.

For this situation alone, Jon would not try to correct Damian’s disinterest.

Though perhaps Damian wasn’t the only one whose jealousy was making an appearance
today. As the group was digging into their food, minding their business while discretely
sneaking glances below, Jon noticed their table’s waitress also had a few tables to tend to
downstairs.
As an unexpected realization, it turned out that Brooklyn HAD known of their arrival all this
time, because she subtly tripped the waitress that had been flirting with Damian. It all started
by ‘accidentally’ dropping one of her forks when they all knew she wasn’t that clumsy, and
as Lex bent down to get it, it happened to be just as the young waitress was rounding the
corner near their booth. The brunette stumbled against his back and fell onto the carpeted
floor.

Jon had trained with Brook enough that he knew she could’ve easily caught the girl in time
with her keen reflexes. But she hadn’t. Instead, as the body fell beside her table, Brooklyn
merely snuck a glance up at their table…and grinned. Four of the five boys flinched at the
attention, meanwhile Damian simply grinned back down at his girlfriend. As if he’d figured
she’d catch them eventually and this was all just a game for them with the kind of skills
they’d been blessed with.

Though Jon wasn’t normally one to curse, he let out a faint and startled, “Shit”, which none
of his friends reacted to. Not when they were turning to uselessly hide behind their disguises.

It was clear now that Damian wasn’t the only one that didn’t appreciate sharing their
significant other. Normally at school the two couldn't afford being this…protective of one
another, but he supposed their waitress had crossed one too many lines.

Before turning back towards Lex, Brooklyn winked up at them as a parting benediction.
Maybe it was a sign that she wasn’t upset about their arrival and silent intervention. It was a
relief considering that despite knowing about their plan, Lena would’ve sided with her sister
against them all if there had been resentment on the table. Fighting two Black Widows was
something even Jon wasn’t sure he could survive on a good day.

As always, unafraid of voicing his thoughts, Harry muttered, “Your girl is scary. How on
earth did she know we were here? Brook hasn’t looked beyond Lex since they got here”

Damian grinned, a wicked and equally as terrifying kind of smile.

“She probably caught our reflection on the surface of her cup, or maybe your pathetic
disguises gave us away immediately through passing gossip,” Damian said, looking almost
proud.

Did the ex-assassins miss nothing?

Lex Jr’s father really didn’t know who he was messing with…

Through the length of time it took them to finish their food, Brooklyn still hadn’t turned on
the coms, and from what Jon could hear, Brooklyn was still working on slowly probing
useful topics beyond the confines of casual talk Lex Jr preferred. When it became clear the
boys could no longer stall for time despite his and Peter’s extensive appetites, they’d decided
to wait outside for any further updates.

Unfortunately, since Brook hadn’t claimed the earlier fall as vengeance over the flirting on
the boyfriend she wasn’t supposed to have, their waitress hadn’t yet understood that her
actions were…futile. Unwelcome was a better word for it.
She passed the ticket over to Damian, retreating her hand slowly from the check, almost
sensually. Damian, either by sheer obliviousness that someone was flirting with him or just
choosing to ignore it entirely, didn’t pick it up. He didn’t have to.

Harry made a show of reaching over and snatching the paper. It was visible to them all now
that the girl had written her number in the back, placing a few drawn in hearts for good
measure. Poor artistry Damian rolled his eyes at. Handing over the ticket with his card, Harry
shot her a deadpan smirk and explained, “His comb is elsewhere, don’t waste your time”

“Comb?” the waitress questioned.

Harry nodded smugly, “You heard me”

Everyone around the table glanced at him with a variety of surprised looks, yet none dared to
say a thing until the waitress left reluctantly to process the payment. Jon wasn’t surprised
he’d dealt with the problem in such a…Harry way of going about it. Nor was he shocked that
Harry had come to Damian’s aid, not entirely at least.

“What?” Harry said, raising his hands up in the air, “Brook is like a sister to me, and since I
know Damian won't treat her like shit despite his roundabout way of going about things, I’m
willing to help send a pretty lady away from him once in a while”

Of course, Damian composed himself and muttered disinterestedly, “I could’ve handled her
pathetic approaches. I didn't need your help”

“Yeah, whatever, let's just go so you can reunite with your girl before I have to continue
rethinking all of my flirting strategies. That waitress didn't spare me a glance until I handed
her my card…your presence is taking a hit at my ego”

Jon couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing much to the shock of the customers around them,
most of them couples on dates previously enjoying the classy ambiance around them. He
couldn’t help it, not when they were all here to spy on Brooklyn’s date, for which Damian
had probably shot enough deadly glares at Lex jr to transfer some kind of radiation, and
Brook had tripped the waitress flirting with him. It had been Harry to come to the couple’s
aid…Harry Osborn for Christs’ sake!

He wondered what their parents would think, seeing the three of them working together like
that day at the school dance. Or rather, Jon wondered if his godfather would be happy to see
Damian had people who cared about him, his son constantly surrounded by those that would
be there to help him. Some by lover’s jealousy, others with support in difficult moments, and
even and old rival helping Damian when his secret relationship made things difficult.

They really were the weirdest of kids, finding themselves in the stupidest of situations with
the oddest of problems. Then Ned joined in on the laughter, followed by Peter who was never
able to hold back a laugh when his friend began. Harry wasn’t far behind…and Jon could’ve
sworn there was a hint of a smile in Damian’s face, one repressed but still fighting to be
present.
Sure, the circumstances they found themselves in were outright ridiculous, but it felt like they
were bonding through them, becoming closer friends to the point that their tight knit circle
may very well be un-breachable in time. It was the kind of friendships Jon had always longed
for, the normal and abnormal mixing into one.

Where the girls might’ve hugged at the realization of their developing closeness, the boys
simply patted one another on the shoulders, a gesture of respect which Jon considered to be
equal to an embrace. That was that. Their amusement was only halted when the coms devices
hidden within their ears came on, followed a steady tapping with her index finger from
Brooklyn against the table almost as if to catch Jon’s superior hearing…all just in time to
hear Lex Jr’s voice.

“I’m glad you get to spend so much time with your dad despite the distance. I admit that
when I heard you chose to live in Queens, I thought maybe your absence in society all these
years had to do with discontentment with your dad”

They heard Brooklyn chuckle.

“Not at all, like I said, my dad is fantastic. I wouldn’t be half the person I am today without
him…silly me, we’ve talked enough about my dad, but what about yours? Surely you must see
Lex Sr with more frequency than I do my own”

Sneaking a glance below, the group noted Lex’s brief grimace.

“Not really. As of late, he’s been gone most evenings…sometimes he just takes off on business
trips for days on end”

Jon and Damian exchanged a glance. Though all of them were certain they’d found Cobalus’
true identity by now, there was something about getting information like this to reinforce
their beliefs that could’ve been soothing if it weren’t for the fact that the man was killing
people.

“Our parents are busy people, sometimes there’s no avoiding stuff like that,” Brooklyn
added, clearly trying to soothe the guy.

“You know, my dad has a weekend trip to Metropolis planned for next week, something about
secret business not even his heir is required for. Maybe we can meet up then? I’d love to
spend time together, preferably somewhere only I get to see your beautiful face this time”

Though the table began whispering speculations about what the trip to Metropolis could
mean, already beginning to work out how they’d get there and the best way to track Lex Sr
during his stay, Jon could tell Damian’s focus wasn’t in it. If it weren’t for Jon sitting in his
way, Damian looked like he might’ve damned the consequences and jumped down to tackle
Lex Jr for what he’d said.

Jon placed a hand on his friend’s chest, shaking his head. Brooklyn had gotten the
information, that's all that mattered…everything else they’d have to let Brook deal with.
Damian’s usual frown was still replaced with a scathing scowl, but the Batarang he’d been
fisting under the table was back in his pocket at least. What truly helped calm Damian was
when Brooklyn replied, “I’m afraid I’m busy that weekend with school assignments I’ve been
neglecting lately. But I’ll make sure to contact you as soon as I have time for another meal
between new friends”

Harry howled, “Roast! Did you all hear that!?”

Only one person didn’t find it amusing. Though surprisingly, Damian’s glare was gone,
replaced by…curiosity.

“It's strategic,” Damian proceeded to explain to the table, “she’s denying any trace of a
developing relationship but giving him enough hope for change that he’ll try harder to
impress her”

Harry rolled his eyes, “How do you know that? You just admitted you’re no expert at this
kind of stuff regarding dating and flirting. If fact if I didn't know you two had to spend
considerable time together before making things official, I would have thought you two
established your relationship through Linkedin with a business contract”

Damian threw a crumpled napkin at the center of Harry's head. Despite the soft and
weightless compounds of the object, the impact still made Harry’s head stumble back into the
headrest of their booth.

“It's a strategy my father perfected, one she clearly picked up from her internship,” Damian
muttered.

Peter downed the remnants of his soda, smiling kindly at Damian as he confessed, “To be
honest, after hearing how long this battle between your families has been going on, I’m very
happy it worked out in the end with your dad. All of it, actually”

Sure, Jon’s godfather had found it in his heart to accept it, but no one at the table dared to
voice the darker side of that beautiful truth. Their group of friends and Bruce Wayne knowing
was one thing…but the rest of the world, Brook’s family outside of Lena, that was the thing
that made this secret of theirs deadly. Jon had seen enough celebrities throughout the years
been torn down by the media to know what to expect, and he was fairly certain even Damian
Wayne couldn’t take on the wrath of the Avengers…much less the disappointment of his
family.

Yet no one said a thing to counteract Peter’s light-hearted confession, not when Brooklyn was
down below on a date, her secret boyfriend leaving dents on the wooden table before him
when they noticed Lex Jr had been bold enough to reach for Brookyln’s hand.

Brooklyn’s expression was masked by her auburn locks, but Jon figured she wasn’t too happy
about the contact of skin either. Probably why she stood, muttering an excuse about having to
meet her sister soon.

They knew Brooklyn would be dropped off at a cafe two blocks from their secret base of
operations, and if they left now, they’d be able to get there ahead of time. Gathering their
jackets and keeping their heads low, the five of them probably looked like a mismatched set
of a band of the past as they exited the restaurant.

On their way out the back door, Harry murmured, “If we weren’t trying to figure out all this
mess with the world’s villains, I would’ve suggested we corner your dad to make sure he’s
being honest, Damian. I’m not saying you should be desperate for allies, but it's not like you
have a lot of backup”

Ned nudged Harry in warning. Leave it to Harry to voice what others were afraid to say.

Thankfully, Damian didn’t start a fight, likely wouldn’t do much of anything but sulk and
brood like his dad after a mission gone sour. Only this particular mission had gone well, and
this was all about Brooklyn Stark and the truth the world couldn’t know.

“You’d try to confront my father of all people?” Damian scoffed, sunglasses reflecting the
sunlight above as they traversed the scalding parking lot with trash cans full of cigarette buds
and poorly parked vehicles, “You have a death wish, Osborn”

Peter nodded enthusiastically at the words, fear evident in his eyes at the mention of Batman.

“Relax, it was a joke. But even if it wasn’t, your dad doesn't even know most of us…so
what's the worst he could do to a bunch of civilians?”

Harry’s question had Jon shaking his head, removing the blond wig and placing it in one of
the oversized pockets of his hideous Hawaiian shirt. From what he knew, it was a glorified
miracle Damian and his dad had worked out their misunderstandings, especially without the
help of Dick or Alfred.

Jon knew why Harry was focusing on this now of all times…because unlike the tricks and
schemes they were able to pull at school or even at the dance, what they’d just witnessed
today was reality. Brook and Damian hiding, no matter their strength, the good they did for
the world, it would always be one of them watching from the shadows as the other played a
role. They wanted to believe Bruce was being genuine, but the group had only just recently
learned the truth of the relationship themselves. Brook and Damian may be protective over
one another, but their friends were just as fierce about protecting them.

Black hair getting windswept as they all walked side by side, Damian countered, “If father
kept an eye on Brooklyn and I, then I assure you he has files on all of you as well as he does
with everyone. He probably already knows more about you than you do yourself”

Jon felt another chill down his spine at the memory that there had to be a file on him in the
Batcomputer too. Not just detailing his life, but his weaknesses in case of an emergency.
Even if his friends didn’t have things like kryptonite to worry about, Bruce Wayne was a
meticulous man that put the safety of his family and the world above all else. Sometimes
truths were just as painful as deadly blows, and Jon had seen Batman enact both.

“Then I suppose you're lucky the king of Gotham is using his power for good…for you two”
Harry muttered, reaching for the side door of Damian’s luxury car. None of them had wanted
to risk bringing Roscoe for their stakeout after all.
Damian rested his hand on the handle of the driver’s seat door, looking back past the
restaurant where a limousine stopped before the business they’d just exited. A flash of auburn
hair made it in, but it wasn’t until the door closed that Damian turned back towards them. Jon
stood beside his friend, leaning against the passenger door with concern written all over his
face.

The Wayne surprised him, all of them for that matter, as he admitted, “My father is no longer
a concern, but Lex Jr is. We’ll follow his father in due time, catch him in the act if we can,
get him arrested the old fashioned way. If it proves a challenge, then we’ll have to risk
another mission like this”

Meaning he’d stomach another evening like this for the world’s sake. Jon patted his friend on
the shoulder, a single point of contact before removing his hand entirely, knowing full well
his friend despised it. But Jon was proud both he and Brook would pour their heart and soul
when it came to saving lives.

It worried him too, how far all of them would go to help the world, especially how much they
were and weren’t willing to risk.

As the vehicle left, Jon heard Damian mutter, “I despise that guy”

From inside the vehicle, Ned replied, “Me too” without question or hesitation. Leaning down
to look inside the back seat, Damian challenged, “You don’t even know the guy, not
personally at least. Why so confident?”

Jon could’ve kissed Ned for the assuredness of his reply, for the support alone the answer
implied.

“Solidarity, brother”

Damian got in, ready to drive off, but not once did he correct their friend on the way he’d
been addressed. That in itself had Jon in a chipper mood as they got back to Peter’s apartment
where Brooklyn’s voice echoed from within the bathroom as she ardently scrubbed at the
hand Lex Jr had touched. To say Damian looked smug at the sight would’ve been an
understatement.
 Mr. Wayne’s Summons
Chapter Notes

Hello, guess who's back!!! I won't get into what has kept me busy these past few months
simply because its boring, but I've decided that instead of waiting to edit a cluster of
chapters, I'll just be posting them little by little so that you guys don't have to wait so
long for content.

As previously stated, this is what I call the 'Wayne Arc' of the story for a particular
reason, but starting the next chapter will also be when the action returns and the plot
flows along. I'm very excited for you guys to see some of these chapters, they involve
many of the known enemies of the story but also have many sweet interactions between
a variety of characters.

I suppose this is one of those chapters, something sweet before the shoe drops. I hope
you enjoy!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Harry Osborn POV-

Though he couldn’t quite remember the blissful days of his youth, Harry was certain there
had been a time when his home hadn’t felt so cold and detached. The only rays of sunlight he
could recall dated back to the years when his mom had roamed the desolate halls, when this
penthouse felt like a true home.

Once she’d passed, everything had changed.

During those cold and wounded days in which Harry only ever saw his nanny after mom’s
passing, there had been an unexpected glimmer of light that chased away the darkness
threatening to swallow him whole. Peter had never allowed him to succumb to the loneliness
and sorrows, his shy little classmate had been there every step of the way with the occasional
smuggled sugary treats and encouraging notes written in wrinkled gum wrappers.

Pete hadn’t yet lost his parents back then, yet even after that unfortunate accident occurred,
somehow his feeble friend had pushed aside some of that sorrow to ensure Harry stayed
afloat beside him.

As Harry had grown older though, he’d grown used to the reality of what his life was like
outside of school. Quiet halls, lonely meals, and the dullness and fragility of all the expensive
finery in his home. Perhaps it was born from a burst of maturity —or rather a dimming of
hope— but Harry had also come to accept that his father didn’t care to spare him much time
or effort.
Sure, his old man was trying to engage in pathetic casual conversations when they had to
spend time together. But his father’s obsession and priority was, and always would be, the
company under his name. When his dad wasn’t at work, he spent most of his time in the large
office on the first floor of the penthouse, a room with decent soundproofing, no windows, and
a padlock that even Harry didn’t know the password to.

It was an office he hadn’t seen the inside of since mom died.

The only ones aside from his father that were allowed in were the board members of the
company whom Harry knew often made an appearance into their home despite the late hour.
One would think that as the heir to the Oscorp name, whatever conversations they had about
the progress and changes of the company would be Harry’s business, but all key decisions
were made in the privacy of that room the teen couldn’t reach.

At most, Harry would hear the faint whispers of many voices when he got home from school
or after overseeing patrols, and the voices were deep enough that Harry had long since
abandoned his disturbing theory that his father was secretly bringing a woman home.

All his dad cared about was work, it wasn’t exactly a surprise that he’d bring work home
instead of making an effort to spend more than one meal time with his son, or to dare find
love somewhere beyond the confines of his broken heart. Harry often joked to himself that
his father’s closest advisors, or whoever was licking his boots for a promotion at the time,
must be going mad having to work late hours into the night for that reward. Especially since
his father’s perfectionist tendencies were likely why he sometimes heard the faint
indiscernible whispers of long arguments from within.

When Harry inevitably had to become CEO, he’d put an end to the long hours and the
reclusive secrecy. Even though he was primarily interning at LexCorp to gather information
on Cobalus, Harry had been there long enough to see the wonders a positive work
environment could do for the staff. Lex Luthor may be a psychotic maniac that was
responsible for the murder of thousands, but no one there complained much about their work
lives, not even when strict deadlines were due.

Despite knowing his dad would be inside that office at this late hour of the night, likely
peeved at the prospect of being disturbed, Harry straightened his back and proceeded to
knock on the rich mahogany doors that towered over him like giant sentinels guarding the
entrance to a forbidden kingdom.

His fear of dismissal and rejection was second to his annoyance. If there was anything he’d
learned from working with the Dynasty was that there were bigger problems at hand than a
reclusive father, and the fact that Harry was helping in making the world a safer place was
what gave him the confidence to approach his father in the first place.

This was trivial, simply an attempt to extend a dying olive branch to a man who didn’t care
for it and only occasionally turned back to make sure the peace offering was still within arms
reach.

Harry bothered with this pathetic routine for one reason only. The memory of his mother.
There were no multitude of voices from within the office today from what little Harry could
hear, meaning he wasn’t disturbing some board meeting that could’ve gotten him yelled at for
eternity. Already an advantage. He’d probably still receive a few disapproving looks due to
the holes in his jeans or the worn colors of his loose band t-shirt, but Harry always planned
for those arguments…dare he say, he almost looked forward to them. It never failed to drag
out their conversations, and even if they were all rather unpleasant, it still guaranteed the
exchange of words would last longer than the typical three seconds of attention.

How messed up was that?

When his father opened the door, he only did so enough that his body obscured the inside of
the dimly lit room. Harry instantly caught a whiff of sandalwood essence, heard the loud
ticking of a grandfather clock, and saw the edges of constant flickering of light from what
was likely a TV.
Glasses in hand, the man glared down at Harry, tendrils of gray hairs and prominent wrinkles
along the edges of his eyes the only evidence of the extent of his dad’s long nights and
restless days. Probably one of the few things his father couldn't hide from him.

“Yes, Harrison?”. Not Harry, he noted bitterly.

Harry tried not to stiffen at the tone, to guard his true emotions with the skill and care he’d
learned from observing Damian Wayne up close for months. The only sign of his unease was
the nervous shuffling of his bare feet against the floor as he handed over a folded paper.

His father didn’t bother asking what it was that he was being given, merely unfolding it with
regal efficiency and an expression that bordered on impatience. Within the man would find
the results of Harry’s latest grades, as well as tickets to the State Finals his football team had
secured and had a good chance of winning this year.

Though Harry’s grades were impressive, they were nowhere near the overachieving
perfection Peter, Brook, and Damian had. Even with the weight of patrols and missions, no
one’s grades had faltered in the team…if anything, they’d improved with the added pressure.
His father didn’t know that though, so there was always the chance he’d focus on the minuses
without understanding the effort it took to earn the barebones of that grade.

Harry wasn’t in the habit of giving his dad updates on his school work, but it seemed like a
good enough excuse to present the two tickets for the distant game. The teen knew better than
to expect his dad to bring a date, but he’d known that without securing entrance for dad’s
assistant, the chances of him showing up would’ve been in the negatives.

Maybe he’d shown the grades to prove something, to show that he was more than teenage
rebellion and an athletic junkie. That he was far from a wayward soul without a path.

Though these past few weeks had been hectic, Harry had never been more sure of where his
life would lead than now. He had a vision for his company’s future under his rule, a direction
to guide it in after observing Lex’s company as of late. He’d be a member of the Dynasty,
doing the possible and impossible to secure a safe future so that families could stay together
the way his own hadn’t.
Harry Osborn had goals and purpose, yet this was the only way he could hint at it to his
father.

Unsurprisingly, Harry’s dad merely nodded absentmindedly at the contents, already

discarding the paper and the tickets atop some nearby table within the office. The tickets
would no doubt lay forgotten to collect dust, and the clear disinterest might’ve hurt were it
not for the fact that his friends would be at the game. As far as Harry was concerned, that's all
he needed.

Realizing his dad was waiting for Harry to say something, anything of value to constitute the
interruption of his work, Harry merely turned around to head back down the hall to his own
bedroom. The encounter would’ve likely gone forgotten were it not for his father’s next
words, the ones that had him stopping in the middle of that darkened hall with fists clenched
and furrowed brows.

“Next time you have things for me, you best email them instead of interrupting me, son”

He should’ve walked away, had Harry possessed MJ’s patience or Peter’s benevolence he just
might’ve. Instead of ignoring the words of a man who closed himself off after his wife’s
death, Harry realized he wouldn’t mind poking at his wounds from time to time as vengeance
for the aching in his own heart.

As Brooklyn often said, “Words are just as painful as physical blows from the most skilled of
assassins. Use them properly, and you can come out victorious from any encounter no matter
the foe”

“Then the next time you have something to say to me, you best email it to me as well” Harry
spat, looking deep into his father’s stunned eyes, his own emotions obscured by indifference
the way Damian had likely mastered lifetimes ago.

“You can’t talk to your father like that,” he spat, gripping the edge of the door.

“I don’t talk much to my father to begin with,” Harry argued, “but trust that anything I might
deem worth saying from now on will be reserved for those that actually care. My friends
don’t require scheduled visits after all”

It felt an awful lot like this was some sort of parting point, as if whatever olive branch Harry
had been willing to work with was suddenly smashed to pieces. Yet he couldn't find it in
himself to feel sorry for any of it, not when it was the truth.

After a deep sigh and running a hand down the length of his face, his father pressed with
gritted teeth, “Surely you must understand how busy I’ve been with the company and trying
to track down the Joker, that especially”

Harry outright laughed at that, but it wasn’t the kind of sound akin to bottled joy that he was
used to. This laugh was darker, something more befitting of his friends who had seen a
million terrors and couldn't help but keep a little of that bitterness in their anger.
Without looking back, Harry bit back, “You should leave the hunt for criminals to the heroes,
dad. If they can’t find a trace of that maniac, then you’re much less likely to, no matter how
much money you throw at the problem. Sometimes money just can’t fix everything”

Money wouldn't fix their shattered father and son relationship, spending that money to
apprehend the Joker wouldn’t fix their broken bond either. Besides, Harry hadn’t said it, but
finding the Joker and his allies wasn’t just the job of heroes like the Avengers and Justice
league…it was a job for the Dynasty. It was his job.

“Your mother wouldn't want you to argue”

That was a low blow, even for him.

Harry could feel the nails digging into the palms of his skin as he bit back, “With how little
you speak of her, I would’ve thought her opinion mattered little to you”

With an intensity he wasn’t used to hearing, his father snapped, “I love her more than you
could ever imagine. My work…everything that I do is for her. This attack on the company
your mother believed in can’t be forgotten or forgiven”

“I doubt she’d be pleased with your negligence to her son, but by all means, focus on the
company if it distracts you from everything else. Just don’t expect me to bother when you
want a son around”

With a silent plea for forgiveness to his mother, Harry all but dashed back to his rooms.
Slamming the double doors behind him, he tried to calm down his heavy breathing by taking
inventory of the space around him, the series of rooms illuminated by the distant city lights
and the moon’s glow from the wall of windows to his left.

He could’ve headed to the massive TV lounge space and taken out his anger on a few video
games, could’ve tried to cool down with a billiard game or a holographic rendition of golf.
Harry would’ve normally indulged a few laps in his indoor pool or tried his hand at breaking
in the new bowling pin extension to his gaming collection. But all those expensive luxuries
only reminded him of his father’s absence…in turn making him angrier.

Harry had always prided himself in not letting riches get to him, partially in thanks to Peter’s
influence. But there was no denying that all he owned and relished had his father’s distant
attempts at reconciliation written all over them.

Instead, Harry rushed up the winding staircase as fast as he could, rushing to the upper corner
of the room where his father and the servants never ventured to, one where his waterbed lay
suspended on sturdy wires and his school trophies and ribbons were hung proudly for his
eyes only.

It was also the only place where he kept photos of his friends and his mother, far from prying
eyes that could behold the things Harry held most dear at the center of his troubled heart.

Since the formation of the Dynasty, the space had morphed dramatically with gym equipment
he now knew how to use at its most efficient form.
Looking down at the vast and glistening city beyond the tinted windows, Harry began
wrapping his hands as Brooklyn had taught him, something that was practically second
nature by now. For what felt like hours, Harry took out his frustrations on the punching bag
before him, finding solace in the repetition and the usual advice from his friends that echoed
in his mind to fix little mistakes in his form.

Little by little, that rage dissipated…turning into reverence at the very reminder that there
were people out there that cared whether or not he lived or died. People who trusted him with
their secrets and the safety of that which they’d tasked themselves to protect.

As if the mere thought could summon such friends, Harry was only briefly startled when a
lithe figure jumped through one of the smaller windows up above with ease, landing in a
crouch before him so as to not scare him further.

Removing his red mask, Pete’s smile immediately lit up the dim room as Harry stopped the
swaying punching bag with his gloved hands. A visit this late into the night by Queen’s
original hero could only mean one thing; the team needed help. It wasn’t unusual for him to
be called in by the Dynasty when they needed some additional eyes on the monitors during
patrols, and after the row he’d had with his father, Harry found himself smirking at the
thought of getting away for a while.

In confirmation to his theory, Peter explained, “Thank goodness you’re not asleep yet!
There’s a robbery on Jackson Avenue and we need your help”

For all the lack of attention students paid Peter at school, his friend had always been a most
perceptive individual when it came to his friends. Harry could see Peter’s brows furrowing at
whatever gave away something had happened earlier, but as always, his friend would wait
until he was ready to share any of his misfortunes. A small blessing he was always grateful
for.

“A shame your movie date with MJ had to be interrupted,” Harry teased as he began
unwrapping his bandages, not bothering to hide his mischievous smirk from the blushing
hero.

Despite the two of them being alone, Peter still felt the need to whisper, “It wasn’t a date and
it wasn’t a movie! MJ just wanted an extra pair of eyes for the report she has to do on that
documentary”

Huffing out a disbelieving chuckle, Harry briefly wondered if Peter truly believed that. Since
Peter swung MJ to safety during the attack on the school dance, things had been tense
between them. Not in the sexual tension sense— that was reserved for Tanya and her gothic
girlfriend whenever they were in the same room together— but almost buzzing with the
knowledge that the two were madly crushing on each other and it only needed to be spoken
out loud.

Sometimes he wondered what was keeping them from making a move.

It could be Peter’s nagging reluctance at ‘putting MJ in danger’ by going out with her, or
perhaps MJ’s abandonment issues (courtesy of her mother that could give Harry’s father a run
for his money as the worst parent in the world). Either way, Harry thought it was the stupidest
thing in the world for both of them to make excuses to hang out as couple’s did.

If Brooklyn and Damian could be together, then theoretically, anyone should be able to.

Looking under his bed for a pair of matching shoes, Harry didn’t bother looking back at his
friend as he questioned, “Who’s out of commission tonight?”

It was routine to ask at that point.

“Damian is stuck doing some last minute paperwork at Stark Industries, but he’ll be on coms.
That and MJ’s dad came home early so she won’t be able to sneak out”

Great.

Damian was burning the midnight oil again doing useless cataloging for Brooklyn’s dad,
which would no doubt mean he’d be cranky tomorrow morning during the car ride to school.
Harry would have to make sure to order the Wayne’s coffee with extra espresso in that case.

Shoes on and little ear-peace fastened in place, Harry didn’t have time to ask about anything
else as Damian’s voice blasted into his ear. Unsurprisingly, he could hear the sounds of quick
typing in the distance as well as Mr. Stark’s favorite Rock n’ Roll hits that the man no doubt
kept on late into the night just to annoy Damian further.

“Make sure Harry brings a warm jacket with him this time, Peter. Last thing we need is for
him to catch a cold for being negligent on his way to the Cafe”

Harry wasn't sure when he’d graduated to being addressed by his first name, but he knew it
was meant to be a compliment of sorts, a sign that Damian trusted him. If that wasn’t a clue
as to their growing friendship, his constant worry for Harry and the others was also another
small way in which the Wayne’s true thoughts could be deciphered.

He couldn’t help but smile fondly at the thought.

Grabbing a stray jacket on his way back to Peter, Harry announced mockingly into the coms,
“I already have it on me, dad”

“Hilarious,” Damian snapped.

Peter tried and failed to stifle a hiccuping laugh, earning a few stray yet identifiable chuckles
from Ned, Lena, Jon, and Brooklyn. Yet for all his mocking, Harry couldn’t deny that in
some way, his friends had become greater role models, if not ‘parents’ of a sort to him…
Brooklyn and Damian in particular since they were in charge of his espionage training.

Damian often pretended like he didn’t care about much, but he always made sure Harry
turned his assignments in on time, ensured his training was impeccable so those skills
wouldn’t fail him when the time came to defend himself or others. Brooklyn was just as
thorough with her training, ensuring he knew of little tricks and tools to help enhance his
skills in a bind, things that she’d either learned the hard way from personal experience or by
failure. Only she made a point to constantly praise his work the way his father never had, the
way he knew she hadn’t received as a child either.

So yes, he liked to joke that the pair of unlikely lovebirds were his parents, but in truth, they
fit the bill more than he would’ve ever believed. He owed them much in that regard.

Easily depositing himself into Peter’s awaiting arms, Harry didn’t even let out a gasp of
surprise as Peter jumped up to the open skylight window, launching them out into a wing
along the skyscrapers of their city. Unlike MJ and Ned, Harry had grown to love the feeling
of the wind on his face, the inner chasm that bloomed when they free fell dozens of stories
only to rise up back towards the skies.

Both he and Peter found themselves laughing and cheering the entire way to their secret base,
and when the time came to assist his friends, Harry confidently helped Ned in any way that
he could. Once the criminals were detained and the police had been alerted to pick them up,
Harry couldn’t remember why he’d been on the verge of tears earlier, too busy cheering with
his friends at yet another night of ensuring safety in their massive neighborhood.

Despite the tribulations ahead that were probably way over their pay grade, Harry found he’d
never felt most alive.

Brooklyn POV-

After throwing the damp hair towel onto the laundry bin with unsurprising good aim for a
decorated marksman, Brooklyn all but collapsed onto her cozy bed after a long day. It wasn’t
school that had made things cumbersome today, but rather the endless preparation and
refining of details she and the others needed to sort out before their big missions.

That had cut too many nights shorter as of late.

Everyday at school while seeing the briefly haunted faces of her classmates after the attack
during the school dance, it was a silent motivation to work harder to ensure their nightmares
remained a thing of the past.

Aside from the secret arrangements for missions well above their status, Brook still had to
abide by her social schedule as heiress of the Stark name, which by the looks of it would only
have two major scheduled events to worry about. Brook supposed it was nothing short of a
miracle that there was enough free time to fit in all of her upcoming hero work, but it still felt
as though life was flashing by too fast since Joker’s Day.

Even if all her upcoming missions were successful…eventually, she and the team would
come face to face with either Cobalus or the Joker. Given their streak of luck, perhaps both.
That's when the truly difficult choices would come into play, and Brook could only hope
they’d prepared enough to survive any hurdles.

At the sound of a walkie talkie coming alive, Brooklyn couldn’t help but smile against her
bedsheets as she lazily reached over for the scheduled call that had kept her from passing out
on the spot.
Brook would gladly battle with a little bit of exhaustion for a while longer, she wouldn’t ever
trade this call for the world.

Despite the usual tone of aloofness and seriousness that Damian often carried after having
weaponized it for years, to her that voice was the sound of all things beautiful and
worthwhile. He too carried an undertone of exhaustion that she’d learned to single out from
behind the crafted mask, though he’d learned long ago there was no need to hide it from her.
Between them there was no need to obscure weaknesses, there simply were none as long as
they were together.

“How were patrols tonight, beloved?”

Brooklyn laid down on her back, smiling brightly at the glowing stars above as she imagined
Damian laying down similarly on his own massive bed, curtains drawn, surrounded by his
cherished pets and whatever weapons of his needed sharpening.

“Nothing much to report,” she admitted, “I think criminals are more concerned with the
Joker’s slaves attacking them at night than us catching them in the midst of a crime. I haven’t
decided if I’m offended by the fact or not”

After a faint huff of amusement from Damian, Brook added, “What about you? Your first
official patrol with Batman in a while must’ve been fun”

Damian had admitted during lunch time that he and his father had come to an agreement to
lift the ‘Robin Gotham Patrol Ban’ for the few days that Bruce would be in the city before
another government sanctioned mission took him away for a few days. A mission her own
otets would find himself busy with as well.

Genuinely glad Bruce and Damian had managed to come to some kind of understanding,
Brooklyn had found herself hoping all would go well tonight for both their sakes. She knew
Dami tended to lean on his brother Dick or on Alfred when situations called for it, but she
figured having Bruce as a close confidant from now on might be healthy for the two.

“Filled with the usual petty crimes and father’s unnecessary nagging,” Damian admitted, the
sound of a lamp turning off in the distance indicating there were no weapons to be refined
tonight. Odd.

Before she could question if everything was alright, he beat her to it.

“Though…there is something we need to discuss”

“Don’t tell me you and your dad already got into some big fight,” she groaned, arm moving
to cover her eyes, “I thought you said you’d try to understand him better?”

Surprisingly, Damian didn’t argue in his own favor, instead he went silent for a few
heartbeats… churning and pondering something that wouldn’t remain a secret from her for
long. Nothing ever was between them.
“When we got back home, father handed me an encrypted message out of sight from the
others. Considering it was written in AES, I assumed it to be of utmost importance and got
right to work on decoding it” he explained, voice brought down to a whisper despite the fact
that he was no doubt alone in his own room.

Brooklyn knew much of the Rijndael code, and was well aware it was one of the hardest
codes in the world to decipher. Not for people of their background though. Neither of their
assassin organizations would’ve been pathetic enough to train them without the skills to crack
any message.

Of course, despite the difficulty of the assignment, Damian gladly boasted that he’d retrieved
the entire message in less than an hour. Only he didn’t say what it translated to, which almost
led Brook to believe the reason for his story was so he could boast about his intellect, were it
not for the buried hint of nervousness interwoven into his words.

“Something tells me this wasn’t a test from you dad to wage your skills,” was all Brook said,
trusting him enough to tell her what he needed to as soon as he was ready. There were no
secrets between them, but that didn’t mean they thought it necessary to press for them.

“It was a missive meant for the both of us”

Brooklyn immediately sat up in bed, all exhaustion evaporating from her bones as she
considered the possibilities of Damian’s mild nervousness. Though she knew better than to
anticipate retaliation from Bruce so late into the revelation of his suspicions, that didn’t mean
a part of her traitorous mind wasn’t concerned over the man realizing she wasn’t worthy of
Damian’s time.

Sometimes, even someone of her background was reminded that fear was an infinitely more
powerful blow than any weapon. It was an emotion Brook refused to let herself be consumed
by.

Hands woven between her tresses, she dared to ask, “Is it a request to keep a distance?”

The pause on the other end of the line had Brooklyn’s nerves rising again no matter how hard
she tried to leash the uncertainty at bay. Bruce Wayne was a clever man, one whose
intellectual prowess was not something to underestimate, much less challenge without proper
preparations.
The man knew of her devotion to Damian, he also knew that Damian's own feelings for her
were real…it was foolish to rely on hope, but still Brooklyn longed that this wasn’t the man
changing his mind.

“On the contrary,” Damian finally muttered, sounding cautious and perhaps even a little
weary, “It's a summons for both of us, a request to meet him this Saturday at a location of his
choosing”

Brook stopped breathing all together, wondering if it was an invitation from Mr. Wayne or
Batman.
It could very well have nothing to do with her relationship with Damian, but rather a
summons to discuss the plans the Dynasty had been extra cautious to keep a secret. It hit her
then, Damian wasn’t just troubled by the fact that this would be the first time the two teens
would be alone with Bruce at the same time with their secret out in the open, but because it
would mean they’d been discovered doing more than they were allowed.

That was troublesome news, the most unnerving she’d dealt with in a while.

For Damian’s sake, she tried to keep calm. Both of them trading possible scenarios all night
would do nothing but rattle their minds, diminishing the focus they needed for their plans to
stop Cobalus now more than ever.

“I don’t have to go to the Compound till Sunday, so I suppose I can be there,” she mused
despite the leaning pile of documents on her desk regarding the details of the Stark Expo that
needed reviewing, “Did your dad give any hints as to why he needs to speak to us somewhere
undisclosed?”

Brooklyn heard Damian unfolding a piece of paper, humming in discontent as he replied,

“No, it only says that a car will pick us up outside your apartment complex and take us to the
location”

“It's not completely impossible for him to have already worked out that we hang out here, but
it's still unsettling for him to assume you’ll be here,” Brook mused, looking around the walls
of her room hoping the Dark Knight wasn’t lingering nearby like a bat on a cave’s ceiling.

To ease her nerves and Damian’s, she joked, “Think he might kill me?”

His response was quick and sure. “He knows better than to do that now”

A smile bloomed on Brook’s face, reclining back against her pillows once more. She decided
to forsake any worries for the upcoming meeting, instead relishing in the sound of Damian’s
voice, the assuredness in which he spoke. He was alive, safe, and some days when the
memories of the past haunted her…that was enough to soothe her troubled heart.

“Please tell me you didn’t threaten your own father to his face when you two talked things
out”

The silence that followed was answer enough.

“I suppose it's nothing short of a miracle you two made your peace after all,” Brook
murmured, tucking herself under the covers, making sure a dagger remained close by.

“For now. We’ll see if he earned my trust this weekend,” Damian said, and those were the
words Brooklyn held onto hours later as she tried to sleep in vain.

Her worries about Bruce Wayne killing her were relatively non-existent, Brook knew that the
man was willing to put some trust in her relationship, enough so that he wouldn’t stab her in
the back without a warning as to what she’d done wrong. Her primary worries were that this
did have something to do with the other forbidden acts she and Damian were partaking in. As
her eyes closed and the world went dark, Brooklyn wondered what arguments she could
make for Mr. Wayne to acknowledge that she could be an asset to their goal to stop Cobalus,
wondered if there was anything she could ever say for the Batman to accept their help.

That in itself was very unlikely. Damian had always told her his father didn’t take kindly to
aid.

The morning of the summons, Brooklyn had woken up early enough to down three mugs of
coffee well before the sun rose. No amount of planning or reviewing documents served as a
proper distraction, at which point Brook wrapped herself in a blanket and knocked on Lena’s
door.

The sight of her sister, battling the grasps of sleep and holding a dagger in hand did little to
distract her either. Brooklyn merely shuffled inside and didn’t even wait for the door to close
to tell Yelena about the mysterious summons, rather frantically she might add. Minutes later
with both Widows seated side by side on the plush couch before a roaring fire, Igor
Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring filling the room, and two mugs of Wanda’s favorite tea before
them…her sister burst into a fit of laughter.

Brooklyn did her best to hide her scowl behind the rim of her mug, but her eyes must’ve
given her away because her sister only burst out even louder.

“You’re telling me that you woke me up at, “ a glance at the nearby clock, “three in the
morning because you’re afraid to be yelled at by Batman? Have you forgotten you can wield
fire itself?” the blonde mused, golden earrings glinting with the very light of the element
Brooklyn could wield.

Glancing down at her golden necklace, Brook explained what had been churning in her mind
for quite some time. Perhaps longer than she cared to admit.

“Try as he may to deny it, Damian and his family are as united as we are with ours. His own
came together by will, not blood, and they may bicker and fight but ultimately they will do
anything for one another. My hesitation is that one of them—in this case his dad— will find
I’m lacking something the more he’s around me”

After taking a deep breath, Brooklyn added, “Brushing off my past as an assassin may have
been second nature for Bruce seeing as he and most of his kids have ties with the League of
Assassins…but there are plenty of faults in Brooklyn Stark that he of all people could
uncover”

“Damian would defend you”

The surety in which Yelena believed so spoke volumes of her own trust and respect for
Damian, something that had increased gradually over the last few months. By now, it was an
unwavering force, one equally interwoven with the rest of the Dynasty.

“That would only alienate him from his own family, the last thing I want is to say or do
something that will turn me into an enemy in the eyes of his own”
Yelena only smirked wider, pointing at the distant TV with a flick of her spoon.

“Even you must see the amusement in this, sestra. This is the typical ‘girl deals with the
future in-laws’ drama, albeit for us it’s a little more complicated considering the bats, fire,
and centuries old bickering between our families…but it's still funny. Not to mention it being
a much needed slice of ‘normality’ despite the hero and vigilante chaos of our lives” Lena
said, leaning back further into the couch and placing her stretched legs atop Brook’s own.

Brooklyn couldn’t stifle the blush at the words ‘in-laws’, especially when as of now it was
near impossible to imagine all of Damian’s family not despising her for being a Stark. But
despite all her amusement, Yelena was right. There she was, freaking out over something so
mundane that she almost felt relieved at being able to grasp such human emotions.

“Isn’t this what we’re partially fighting for?” Lena added, leaning her head sideways to smile
at the Letterman jacket carefully hung on the back of a nearby chair, “We fight to make up for
the wrongs, to save the innocent…but we’re also fighting for the chance of a normal life, for
the chance to have everything we wouldn’t have even dreamed of under Ivan’s control”

“So you’re saying whatever comes my way during this most mysterious summons, I should
be glad for it?”

Her sister nodded, pointing at the worn ballet shoes resting behind them on the couch.

“It's like dancing, you deal with it one excruciating step at a time. Plus, if Bruce does know
of our…dallying to stop Cobalus, aside from being mad don’t you think the Batman would
be slightly impressed by what we’ve accomplished so far? It can’t end up too badly then,
right?”

Rolling her eyes, Brooklyn patted her sister’s ankles gently. Though she’d never voiced it,
Brook had noticed an increasing wisdom in Lena as of late, more so an appreciation for the
life they were building for themselves. It was admirable, and aside from their family and
friends, Brook had a sneaking feeling she had Jon to thank for most of it.

Two bins of ice cream (Stark Raving Hazelnuts, of course) and an hour of casual
conversation later, Brooklyn had returned to her apartment feeling lighter than she had in a
while. Heeding her sestra’s advice, Brook stashed her nerves to the side but still hid a few
daggers within the lapels of her skirts in case of any trouble.

With the way things were at the moment, one could never be too safe…even with the Batman
as company.

It turned out that Damian was as unnerved as she was, only he made a monumental effort to
make it seem like he wasn’t. From the moment he knocked on her door to the second they got
into the luxurious driverless car awaiting them by the gates, Damian hadn’t once let go of her
hand. She didn’t need to be a detective of Wayne caliber to guess he likely had weapons
hidden in his pressed pants and turtleneck, that he may be as guarded about this situation as
she might be.
They’d sat in the back of that car with their hands intertwined, the others grasping the
handles of their doors in case they needed to escape. The two didn’t speak as they watched
the passing scenery from the tinted windows, memorizing every street and turn they took
until Brook wasn’t sure which part of New York they could possibly be in.

The car came to a stop about half an hour later, seemingly mocking their reluctance by going
as far as to unlock their doors before shutting down. Beside her, Damian turned around
completely to face her, his expression hard yet resolute as he murmured, “You don’t have to
indulge, father. Say the word, and I’ll get us out of there…no questions asked”

Brooklyn smiled for the first time since she’d left Yelena’s apartment, only this was a special
smile reserved for Damian when he did chivalrous things without really meaning to.
Brushing tendrils of his black hair back into place that had no doubt come undone with the
pressure of today, Brook let her hand linger for just a second longer against his temple.

“Whatever it is, we face it together” she whispered in return, “We always do”

Leaning against her hand, Damian murmured the reassurance in Arabic, no doubt for his own
peace of mind as well. Brooklyn couldn't remember if she’d ever told him how much she
loved to hear him revert back to the language of his birth, but in some way, it helped ease her
nerves as well.

“Nuajihuha mean” We face it together.

Doing one last quick mental catalog of the daggers hidden within the heels of her shoes,
those obscured by the lapels of her skirt, and noting the familiar weight of the Stark watch
hidden underneath the sleeve of her billowing coat, she exited the car.

She’d expected an abandoned factory, maybe a Wayne Enterprise building. Instead, Brook
and Damian briefly lowered their shades to stare at the empty parking lot in what looked to
be a backstreet section of a city square. Victorian street lights illuminated the two against the
gloom of the cloudy day, the wind blowing their coats as they directed their attention to their
surroundings. The windowless backs of buildings surrounded the pristine space, and before
them towered a building that had to be as tall as their own company buildings, made of
resplendent white walls and filled with various protruding balconies full of hanging vines and
greenery.

The car had dropped them off before a back entrance to the establishment, a set of red
industrial doors that almost felt like a warning should they choose to proceed forward. That
traitorous self-driving car soon sped away from behind them, leaving the teens to their fate.

After a deep breath and a mental reminder that this wasn’t nearly in the top ten stupidest
things the two of them were planning on doing that month, Brooklyn tugged on Damian’s
gloved hand, guiding him inside the equally as lonesome hallway with an elevator at its end.

A quick glance at his phone, Damian pointed to the button labeling the sixtieth floor. Brook
knew Damian was considering how they could survive such a fall if escape was needed,
because she was as well. With every floor they ascended, she almost expected the elevator
music to turn into the Joker’s laughter, for assassins to burst from the panels up above.
It was both a testament to her nervousness, as well as the constant lack of normality in her
life.

Leaning close to her ear in a whisper, a testament to his own mistrust, Damian murmured
unhappily, “There’s no phone service in this building. Whatever happens, we’re on our own”

Brooklyn didn’t need to reach into her own pocket to check, just nodded as the button to their
floor lit up with a chipper beep. As the doors groaned open, Brook’s fighting stance and her
hold on Damian’s hand relaxed as she beheld the rather unusual sight before them.

The room ahead was an expansive space with dark brown walls with various priceless art of
centuries past in mammoth golden frames, thick pillars akin to those in Greek halls, polished
chandeliers of finest glass, and rows upon rows of circular tables. Each sitting area was clad
with a white tablecloth, a lavish tea set, and red curtained separators with golden tassels at
their ends and hanging greenery at the top.

Dozens of people were seated in their own private areas, all dressed to the nines and enjoying
food whose delicious scent wafted over to them. Mercifully, none of them looked up from
their conversations as the elevators opened, none but the looming stone gargoyles up in the
domed roof bothered to see who had arrived in their midst.

Stunned, Brooklyn listened to the sounds of utensils on glassware, the thrum of hundreds of
conversations, and the distant melodies of violins and flutes that didn’t quite fit the image of
the trouble she’d been expecting. Damian was equally as silent as she was, yet still quick to
move a hand to the pocket of his coat as a person approached from the side.

He was dressed in a polished suit, wrinkle-less white apron covering most of the lower half
of his body. The man greeted them cordially with a bow, one which neither teens returned.

“You’re here right on time, I assume you two must be Mr.Van Derm’s awaited guests? Please
follow me” the waiter said, fetching…two menus before making his way down the main row
of tables.

Before Brooklyn could suggest that maybe the car had taken them to the wrong location or
that maybe they’d ventured into the wrong floor, Damian whispered, “Van Derm is a last
name my father uses when he doesn’t want others to know of his location, it's the last name
of my ancestor Allan Wayne’s wife. We’re in the right place”

That last part was said with an air of hesitation, but nevertheless the two teens followed along
before the man could realize they’d been left behind. They did so hand in hand, refusing to
remove their sunglasses or shed their coats despite the comfortable warmth of the space,
instead following silently as they were led to the very ends of the room where the tables
became scarcer and the dividers between them longer and wider.

Eventually they were led to what looked to be the most isolated corner of the room, one with
less chandelier light, a wider table, and a cozy booth the shape of a crescent moon where
chairs ought to be. There was but a sole window nearby amidst the dark walls, one which
showed the cloud line resting well below where their floor was, obscuring the city beyond it.
Once they came to a stop before the table, the waiter busied himself with fetching coat racks
for them and relighting a few of the candles at their table, but Brooklyn’s focus was only
partially on the stranger’s movements. Bruce Wayne stood from his seat on the booth, the
mandatory frown often displayed during her internship hours now replaced by the most
serene gaze she’d ever beheld on the man.

He moved to clap a hand on his son’s shoulder, removing the contact quickly before Damian
could argue against it. Next he extended a hand out for Brook to shake, the glimmer of the
Wayne ring shining against the candlelight.

Brooklyn had no idea what was going on and she wasn’t exactly willing to risk their
identities with questions until the waiter left, which is why she accepted his extended hand
with little fuss and smiled up at their most unlikely ally. A smile returned with a clipped one
of his own.

They all settled into the booth, the teens not bothering to shed their layers of disguise as they
took up one end for themselves, Mr. Wayne settling on the other end almost as if to give them
room. The waiter wasted no time serving both teens tea on delicate china cups Brooklyn
wasn’t sure if she’d accidentally melt upon contact by accident with her confusion and
weariness spiking.

To her amusement, the man also served each teen a cup of blood-red wine, cups which Mr.
Wayne frowned at and with a single hand managed to set aside towards the vacant middle of
the booth. In hindsight, alcohol might’ve eased her nerves but it would’ve just as easily
changed Damian’s demeanor into someone she wasn't sure she wanted his father to see.

Finally leaving to let them look through the menu, it was Damian that spoke up first,
gesturing to the elegance and finery of the room.

“Pray tell, father. Where and why did you summon us here?”

Mr. Wayne took a leisurely sip of his tea then redirected the cup in Brooklyn’s direction, like
a toast of sorts.

“I asked you to come here because it was your girlfriend’s birthday not long ago. Seeing as
she’s with you now and we’re not likely to be allowed into the Stark extravaganza Anthony
has planned for later in the week, I thought it might be best we celebrate in a more secretive
manner”

The rest of his sentence went without saying. They were celebrating her birthday because by
some miracle, Mr. Wayne’s acceptance of their relationship meant she was to be treated as a
close acquaintance of the family.

It was a strange and unforeseen honor Brooklyn hadn’t expected

In the eve of everything that had happened with the Joker, her birthday had passed under the
radar, as had Lena’s, which is why dad had been planning a massive party on a day everyone
would be home from their separate missions.
It was rumored to be the party of the year.

Amongst her family members, it was described as dad’s current obsession even above the
careful plotting of the nearing Stark Expo. Dad’s enthusiasm was understood, he’d never
been able to celebrate her birth before…but for Bruce Wayne to have gone through all this
trouble for her was still a bit of a puzzle.

“You would risk being seen with me in a public setting just to celebrate my birthday?”

Mr. Wayne tilted his head ever so slightly, almost as if puzzled by her answer. Mercifully,
Damian was able to decipher his father’s thoughts and mannerisms in a way she’d yet to be
able to decode. Hand finding hers under the table, Damian used the other to remove his
glasses at last…those emerald orbs not as sharp or as guarded as she’d thought they might be.

As if he understood his father’s madness.

“We don’t skip birthday celebrations in my family, haven't for a long while” Damian
explained.

Putting her faith in the dimness surrounding them, she too removed her own rudimentary
disguise so that the Waynes could see the puzzled raise of her brow. For a second, Brooklyn
wondered if this was some kind of universal birthday tradition she hadn’t yet learned of,
something obvious to all others but not to an ex-assassin like her.

While placing a napkin on his lap, bussing himself with the task in a way that had her
realizing Damian was avoiding her eyes as well as his father’s, he supplied, “We don’t skip
birthdays because we never know which might be our last. Pennyworth’s rules”

She opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out in the end.

Brooklyn knew vague details about the many misfortunes that had befallen the Waynes, some
of which included more than a few brushes with death. Death was such a final fate to many in
the world— even in Brook’s mind, that remained the case— but not to the Waynes.

She knew of Jason’s death, was reminded of it with every careless joke he made about it, but
she’d never asked for specifics about any of the other assumed deaths in the family. All in
fear of what she might hear regarding Damian’s fate before she’d met him.

Both teens had been taught not to be afraid of such things since they were toddlers, but even
that subject seemed to be one of the things even Damian didn’t seem too pleased to speak
about. All she knew is that even the Lord of Death must be afraid of the Wayne family to
hold on to them for too long, likely fearing the retaliation of their clan enough to treat the
visit as nothing more than a parking ticket.

In a way, no matter how many of Damian’s siblings had been bested during a deadly conflict,
she supposed it made sense for them to treasure another year of survival. That must be why
Damian, despite his distaste for celebrations, had allowed his family and his friends to do as
they pleased on the day of his birth. A comfort for his family that he would not fight against.
As for Brooklyn…well, she’d never thought Bruce Wayne would invite her for lunch to
metaphorically say, ‘I’m glad you’re not dead, the risk of celebration is worth it because you
care about my son and I’m perfectly ok with that’. Metaphorically that is.

Fisting the napkin before her she’d yet to unfold, Brooklyn turned her attention to the man
before her and stuttered, “I don't know what to say…I’ve never—” she sent an uncertain
glance at Damian, to which he nodded as if in encouragement to share, “I’ve never celebrated
by birthday, the concept itself had seemed so foreign prior to this year and before that the Red
Room ensured it would take up another meaning. I guess what I’m trying to say is that this
gathering right now will be the first time I indulge a birthday properly”

Funny how she’d thought her first birthday would be in a lavish party surrounded by friends
and family yet there she was, seated with two family enemies in an undisclosed restaurant.
Yet despite the oddity of it all, it felt right. Spending her first birthday celebration with
Damian had been something both of them had already known would not happen (they had
planned to meet up the next day at her apartment because of it), and somehow Bruce Wayne
had been the person that had turned that unspoken wish into a reality.

Though she’d had no doubts about Bruce Wayne’s word prior to this beyond her occasional
weariness, this day alone silenced them completely.

“In that case, you can rest assured knowing you’ll now have two proper birthday celebrations
each year. Even if one has to remain a secret” Bruce said, to which she felt Damian’s hold on
her hand loosening at last and her own lips morphing into a genuine smile.

Brook was suddenly thankful for the dimness of the candlelight as she felt a single tear roll
down her cheek. Not in sadness of a youth’s torture, but in joy at it having a new meaning
where both her family and Damian’s could be involved…if only partially.

By the time the waiter came by to take their orders, she and Damian had received some
answers about the secrecy they found themselves surrounded by. Apparently, they were at a
private restaurant on the outskirts of Connecticut where both their families were not likely to
be expected, and thus recognized. Bruce had made the reservations earlier in the week as
soon as the news of her official birthday celebration had been announced, and he’d made up a
work appointment so that the rest of his family would remain unaware.

Just to be safe, had reserved the most private area in the restaurant at an expense Brooklyn
was afraid to ask the enormity of. He’d made sure any traffic cameras would be avoided on
the ride there for both their cars, and if that wasn’t enough, he’d ensured to bring them to the
only restaurant in the country that had implemented robotic waiters to ensure further secrecy
on the matter.

Brook’s distrust of intelligent machinery had dimmed thanks to Vision’s harmless and
adorable nature, enough so that she was mildly surprised she hadn’t been able to tell the
stranger taking their order was nothing but bolts and machinery until she looked hard enough.

Needless to say Brooklyn was mildly impressed, but that emotion paled in comparison to the
silent understanding that passed between father and son while she’d been browsing the menu.
A link of trust had been secured, and the hesitance and weariness Damian had been carrying
all this time with his father knowing their secret seemed to shift into as much ease as Damian
would show in a public place in the blink of an eye.

Once their entrees had been delivered and they were all once again alone, easy conversation
began to flow between them. Damian, of course, said the least between their party, but even
she knew Bruce must’ve noticed that he was at least bothering to bring up topics of
conversation now and again. Effort. Damian was putting in the effort to not only make this a
trouble-less lunch, but also to show his father that the trust was there.

Eventually though, the topics at hand turned…troublesome even when they were meant to be
rather docile. It all started with Bruce making an off-handed comment about her admirable
dancing abilities to which she’d reluctantly had to give the Red Room credit for, and then that
topic turned to the last time the man had seen her dance…which happened to be with Lex Jr.

“There was a rumor going around that you went on a date with him,” Bruce added after a
mouthful of seasoned chicken.

Brooklyn had nearly choked on the pasta she’d been in the middle of swallowing.

Fearing their careful plotting would appear as her cheating on Damian, Brook was quick to
explain, “Damian and I had already discussed the unfortunate possibility of our having to
keep up appearances in public to make sure no one even thinks of looking our way. Dancing
with Luthor’s son was part of that, a way for us to figure out if LexCorp is planning anything
shifty against out companies as well”

“You’d think I would let some snobby and pathetic roach dance with Brooklyn without there
being a purpose to it? Really, father, your observation skills seem to be faltering at your old
age” Damian added, though the usual bite behind the words was dulled.

Bruce chuckled, pointing his fork at both teens as he mused, “Is that why you two were gone
so long after she danced with him? To plot?”

She immediately felt her cheeks reddening, the heat of them almost akin to the flames she
could summon. Images of Damian’s lips on hers, of the two wanting to stretch out the
minutes until their absence would be noted while locked in one another’s embrace.

Under the scrutiny of what looked to be a rather amused Mr. Wayne, even Brooklyn could
not fight off the rising waves of embarrassment for her actions. She really shouldn’t have
tried to talk, because her carefully structured alibi ended up sounding like, “We just—we
were talking. We didn’t, um—’’

‘‘You two better not have ummed,” Bruce said, and she could’ve sworn the usually stoic man
was fighting back a vengeful grin as he added, “I never thought I’d say this in regards to
Damian, but do we need to have the talk?”

Brooklyn’s blush expanded past her neck despite not being guilty of any crimes. She almost
wished Bruce would’ve confronted her about their involvement against Cobalus instead.
Surprisingly, Damian merely rolled his eyes beside her. Stabbing leaflets and tomatoes onto
his fork, he added calmly, “If your recall, father, it was I that gave you and the others that
talk”

The man actually smirked at that, yet those sky blue eyes suddenly looked a bit haunted.

“How could I forget eleven year old Damian yelling at Dick to invest in proper condoms?”

Brooklyn wasn’t the slightest bit surprised that Damian had taken a rather…crude approach
to protect his family in his own way, but it was still endearing to imagine a much smaller
version of the teen beside her dishing out such advice as if he were the parent of the family.
In a way, she understood why it may have been odd for Bruce to grow up with a kid well
versed in all matters beyond his years.

The other much larger part of her would’ve given anything to see a bite-sized Damian yelling
out those friendly reminders to someone like Jason.

“Nevertheless, you don’t need to waste your breath on the topic,” Damian added, “Brook and
I know that intimacy is deeper than the flesh, standing before one another with all truths
bared and acknowledging we’re safe in one another's company is the kind of intimacy we
chase at the moment. We’re not like how you probably were at our age”

Bruce’s brows scrunched up, “I wasn’t doing anything like that at your age”

Brooklyn had been forced to hide her surprise under the pretext of fixing the napkin on her
lap when Damian answered almost immediately, “Should I ask Pennyworth if you ummed
during those teenage years of yours?”

“Eat your salad, Damian”

By some mercy, that had been the end of that. The rest of the three course meal that was both
inexplicably delicious and unimaginably expensive, had gone by without a hitch. Only when
the time for dessert came around, their peculiar server placed a small plate with a piece of
chocolate cake that was perfectly cut and decorated with raspberries and a single tiny sparkler
serving as a candle.

As if Mr. Wayne knew not to push the boundaries of elegance and expense she was still
getting used to. As if he’d known she would’ve preferred something small rather than a five
tier cake. Brooklyn suspected those deductions had likely derived straight from his son’s own
preferences.

Had she not celebrated Damian’s birthday earlier in the month, she might’ve been puzzled by
the tradition and made a fool of herself before the Batman over something so simple and
known.

Now, her only puzzlement was trying to decide what her first true birthday wish should be.

Beside Brooklyn, the tips of Damian’s fingers made quick work to swipe back the tendrils of
her hair so that she may lean down to blow the candle once she was ready. It likely wouldn’t
mean much to anyone, but the fact that he’d dared to show the affection they only shared
behind closed doors or amidst their friends before his father…that he wanted his father to
know that he cared for Brook, it warmed her heart further.

Looking up at her little audience, Brooklyn was met with a restrained yet genuine close-
lipped smile from Mr. Wayne across the booth, Damian’s strong and intense emerald eyes
softening as they beheld her own. The flickering light of the sparkler lingered between them
for the few seconds it took for a wish to form in her mind, a rather ambitious one at that, but
she was hoping the fact that she’d never made one before would grant her some leeway.

Silently, she turned back to face her simple yet perfect little cake, Brooklyn dared to close her
eyes and whispered in her mind what she figured might end up being one of the few secrets
she and Damian would ever have between one another for the sake of keeping to traditions.

I wish for our families to grow and thrive, that one day friendships will bloom where hatred
once reigned.

Blowing out the candles, Brooklyn released a content sigh at the thought of her first of what
would be two birthday wishes being done. She could’ve uselessly wished for help against
Cobalus, maybe for the premature death of the Joker, but those were things she and her team
would take care of without celestial help. Her wish had been more far fetched, and
impossibility she hoped to see come to life one day.

While Bruce clapped in congratulations, Brooklyn felt the hand she still had intertwined with
Damian’s shift from the secret confines of their side of the booth. To her surprise, he lifted it
to his lips, keeping his gaze solely on her as he placed a quick and delicate kiss atop the skin
of her knuckles.

The moment couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, but the intensity of it all felt like
a lifetime. But as quickly as his lips left her skin, Damian all but whirled to face his father
with that familiar glare of his, daring Mr. Wayne to comment on that brief brush of lips on
skin.

Bruce said nothing of the sort.

At her request, they split the cake slice amongst one another, all the while both father and son
complained that Alfred’s birthday cakes were unmatched in quality and taste. In fact, Bruce
suggested Damian bring her a slice the next time the Waynes had a celebration of the sort.
She was both honored and excited to try another of Alfred’s delicacies, only mildly saddened
it had to be done in secrecy.

After the last forkful of his cake, Bruce had taken one look around their private corner of the
room with a sigh. At first, Brooklyn feared she’d not passed some sort of test, but it turned
out the expression was born out of concern…for her and Damian.

“I know you two don’t want me to state the obvious, but you need to be extra careful when it
comes to your secret. Just because I’m happy to see you together doesn't mean others out
there will…others like Damian’s mother” after a barely visible flinch, he added, “Talia might
resort to attacking first and asking questions later if she were to find out the depth of all this. I
didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, but rumored sightings of the League have been
indisputable as of late. I just wanted you both to consider taking extra precautions despite
today’s outing”

Brooklyn had to blink a few times to realize the warning wasn’t about her dad for once, but
rather Talia al Ghul. Her memories of the woman were still too fresh for comfort. There was
the distant awe at her prowess and legacy as a decorated assassin, but also the memory of
those striking green eyes that made Damian’s look alight with emotion in comparison.

Yet both she and Damian already knew of her possible lingering around, only they had no
reason to be afraid. Not when they were planning on using Talia to get what they wanted.

Bruce had no reason to believe they’d ever outright confront Talia, which was great, but he
was clearly afraid that the woman would try and make contact with Damian. At least on that
front, the two of them could ease his nerves…while still keeping their secrets intact.

“Mother already paid us a visit,” Damian stated, and before his father could freak out and
assume the worst, he added, “She doesn’t know our situation as you do, but mother has no
problem with Brooklyn, especially not one to warrant a secret assassination”

She could practically see the wheels turning in Mr. Wayne’s eyes, the failed attempts his
mind was trying to make to explain such an oddity even Brooklyn didn’t quite understand
fully herself. Talia knew she and Damian cared enough about one another to die side by side,
and despite their backgrounds, the assassin had come to Brook when needing to deliver a
message to her son.

Talia had the skills to have killed her that day, to fire a precise bullet into Brooklyn’s cozy
apartment and rid herself of an enemy. Yet she hadn’t.

Prompted by his father’s raised brow, Damian explained rather proudly, “Brooklyn defeated
mother in combat during the gathering at the Bermuda Triangle, and though that kind of
defeat might warrant anger and vengeance in most cases, with Brooklyn it only led to
respect”

Most ‘partners’ wouldn’t be elated to note their significant other had almost killed their
mother, though she supposed sitting across from Batman for lunch in a fancy restaurant
wasn’t exactly a typical day for anyone either.

The fact that Damian was proud of her, though it was something she’d already known
without the need for voicing it, was as joyful as Bruce’s acceptance of her.

No wonder the color in her cheeks had bloomed so openly then.

Unbeknownst to Brook, while she’d been bashfully hiding her blush in search of lipstick to
reapply after the meal deep within her handbag, Damian fished out a silver chain from
underneath his turtleneck. At its end was an item he’d begun to carry with him since Joker’s
Day, a delicate female ring encrusted with little white diamonds all along its circumference
and a rhombus shaped emerald at its center.
Bruce recognized it immediately from Talia’s ‘care package’ for Damian after he’d been
rescued from the assassins. He’d assumed it was a memento to keep her in his thoughts, it
was after all, an heirloom passed to the women of the Al Ghul family.

But as his son’s eyes met his own, it became crystal clear that the gift had been meant for
Brooklyn.

Talia al Ghul wasn’t just fine with the two teens spending time together, she had outright
given her consent for anything that happened down the line. Bruce knew heirlooms were not
so easily given to outsiders. In his time as Ra’s al Ghul’s future heir, he’d had to wait years to
earn a weapon from the family’s ancestry…yet Talia had seen something worthwhile in
Brooklyn that she’d allowed the girl to have her most prized possession’s hand.

Damian’s hand.

For a second, Bruce was slightly peeved at Talia of all people had made her sentiments of
approval known before he had, but the majority of him felt as if he’d taken a big gulp of fresh
air. There was no need for him to waste energy shielding the girl from the League of
Assassins, if anything, his greatest concern should be how long a most besotted Damian
could hold out before giving Brooklyn that ring with certain intentions in mind.

If only his father could see this now, a Stark and Wayne whose unity had managed to charm
even the League’s most ruthless of killers.

Quickly hiding the chain from sight, Damian simply shot his father a wordless glance that
didn’t need a glare to get the point across.

‘Mother approves of the decisions of my heart. Unless provoked, mother will leave her
alone.’

Of all the things Bruce had hoped to learn during this little outing, that had not been one of
them. Leave it to Damian and Miss Stark to keep him on his toes.

“Most kids send flowers to their significant other’s parents to gain favor, I suppose Talia
would consider a defeat as a form of worthiness” Bruce found himself saying, hoping that a
little joke might help settle that impossibility in his mind.

“I thought that bitch was going to let her son die,” Brooklyn all but snarled, unapologetic
when it came to defending Damian, only the sight was made slightly less hostile by the
applying of lipstick as she said the words. The same lipstick shade that had helped give both
teens away, and almost as she remembered his words about said item, the young Stark smiled
as she added, “Mad as I may have been, I wasn’t going to kill her. I always assumed she
might hold that against me, but last time we spoke she was surprisingly understanding”

“I'm glad to hear”

“That I didn't kill her, or that I was considering it because of the danger she posed to
Damian?”
Bruce relented a chuckle, “Both”

It was odd, Brook realized, that it was a family enemy that accepted all the craziness in their
souls simply because it made his son happy. Now having been done with the meal, Brooklyn
couldn’t help but feel a sense of finality to this most forbidden lunch. Oddly enough, the guilt
of lying to her otets was minimal, overshadowed entirely by the relief both she and Damian
felt.

This had made her hopeful where she’d once rarely dared to be before, that one day she may
earn the approval of more of the Waynes. Damian would never voice it, but she had a feeling
he would very much like it if all his family joined them in a celebration such as this.

As for her, Brooklyn found she enjoyed birthdays more than she thought she would.

Despite her and Damian’s offer to pay for the meal, Mr. Wayne had insisted on being the one
to take care of the bill. Though that was already a more than generous gift, he’d surprised her
further by stopping both teens before they could exit the booth.

Wordlessly, he slid a small box across the cleared out table, and as she stared at its nearly
arranged bow with puzzlement, something akin to worry or sadness spread across Mr.
Wayne’s face before it was masked with calm encouragement.

“It's a birthday gift, Miss Stark”

Beside Brook, Damian spared a questioning glance towards his father before reaching over to
hand her the mysterious object. Whatever was inside didn’t weigh much, and though a part of
her was expecting some sort of weapon, she wasn’t sure if she knew of any that could be so
weightlessly compacted.

After a nod of thanks, she wearily disposed of the lid, surprised to find a small button-like
object no larger than the size of a fingernail hanging from a small chain. Like a charm one
might hang on their phone or backpack, only this one had no decoration whatsoever, and
whose glass encasing looked sturdy enough to hold its own through harsh encounters.

Raising it up to the candlelight, both she and Damian leaned closer to inspect it.

She waited for Damian to explain, but when he remained silent she stated hesitantly, “I have
no idea what this is supposed to be”

Mr. Wayne grinned across the table.

“I didn’t expect you to,” he replied, “If you’re ever in serious danger, press that button and it
will alert me and the others on our new family alert system. Only once pressed will it let
everyone know where you are and that your retrieval is of utmost importance just as it would
be for any of us. No matter what anyone is doing, our family will drop it to go help”

Brooklyn didn’t need Damian to tell her how big of a deal this was.
Bruce Wayne had a tendency to offer protection to anyone that needed it, Batman’s actions
made that clear enough, but to be made a priority was an entirely different thing. The one
thing he clearly cared about more than anything was his family, to add her to that list of
priority enough to risk their secret spoke volumes…and as someone who was still getting
used to the thought of being protected instead of needing to protect herself alone after the
Red Room, there simply weren’t enough words to articulate her dismay and gratitude.

Still she found herself questioning it, perhaps giving the man a chance to backtrack on his
gift, “But I'm not family, some might say that as a Stark I’m the furthest thing from it”

“Not by birth, but that's never been something we care about in our family. What matters is
that you’re important to Damian, and though I know now that he might very well go to the
ends of the world for you, he doesn't have to do it alone this time around” Mr. Wayne
explained.

Fixing the cufflinks on his wrists as he added absentmindedly, “We can always make an
excuse to the others as to why I added you to the Emergency System if it's ever activated, so
don't hesitate to use it if your own contacts are too far away. I’m sure Anthony gave you a
way to contact him already in case of an emergency, he never was one to make the same
mistake twice for those kinds of things”

Brooklyn tapped the band of her Stark watch under her sleeve, her own safety net provided
by her family. Then she stashed the Wayne protection into the pocket of her coat, intent on
finding a way to keep it close at all times.

As the three stood, Brook waited until the man fixed the lapels of his coat before extending
out a hand to shake, one he took. Damian’s arm remained a warm comfort along her back, her
purse in his free hand as the heiress of the Stark Dynasty and the matriarch of the Wayne
Clan accepted undisputed peace.

“Thank you, for everything”

The man inclined his head politely, smiling at his son and his unabashed display of affection
towards her. “I know better than to tell you two to stay away from danger, just know neither
of you stand alone” he said.

With that, Damian’s father led them towards a secret elevator to their right which took them
back down towards the deserted parking lot. As Bruce and Damian exchanged casual talk
about patrols in Gotham or improvements in their training, Brooklyn couldn’t help but sigh in
relief at the cloudy skies, a smile across her face as the first minuscule droplets of water
began to fall.

Once their vehicles arrived, Damian stopped his father’s words before the man could instruct
him to accompany her back home like a gentleman would. Damian had snapped that he
already had every intention of doing so, which wasn’t surprising to Brook but it was to his
father.

With a final farewell, both luxury cars drove off in opposite directions, and once in the
privacy of the tinted car…both teens lay back unceremoniously on the cushions and cursed in
every language they knew with smiles on their faces. Both knowing that their futile operation
to unite their families might not be so impossible after all.

Bruce Wayne POV-

Shaking off the last few hours from his mind as if they had never happened, cataloging the
event deep into his mind, Bruce’s thoughts resumed their usual state. His secrets soon buried
and his true emotions stifled behind walls no one poking into his mind could venture…even
when there was no one around at the moment.

His gathering with Damian and Brooklyn couldn’t be so carelessly put at risk, even when he
was hesitant to let go of the joy and relief he felt that everything had gone well.

Seated against the driver’s seat of the BatJet, Bruce Wayne activated the autopilot setting as
the vehicle rose above the cloud line. Even with the looming promise of having to deal with
his pesky ‘teammates’, Bruce hadn’t felt this eased in a long time.

As the craft rose past the cloud line, he put on his cowl, eased by the familiar weight of it.
Bruce supposed that was a constant when it came to his Batman suit, wearing it felt like
getting back into his real skin even when most considered it nothing but a costume to hide the
truth. Though it wasn’t necessary for him to wear it when visiting the JLA Watchtower—
seeing as everyone knew his identity there— he found it was also a good way to keep that
barrier between vigilante work and CEO life separate.

Besides, the massive base located on the dark side of the moon wasn’t exactly a place most
would consider normal, it was a place where his alter ego Bruce Wayne didn’t quite fit in.

The reason for his visit off planet was actually of no urgency for once. The League was
running ragged after the government’s involvement in the Cobalus case began, constantly
being restrained by laws and paperwork in need of approval, sent on wild goose chases and
being forced to prioritize the protection of government officials rather than stopping the
problem at its core.

No one was happy about that particular turn of events, least of all Bruce who often preferred
to do things outside of the government’s parameters. In fact, it was because of that reputation
as a vigilante that Batman had been given the most bothersome of assignments, almost as if
by righteous punishment. He was mostly annoyed by the pathetic games his ‘superiors’ were
playing while lives were being lost, but unless they wanted to fight the government and
Cobalus at the same time, most of the team was right in assuming they should pick their
battles wisely.

If a chance to stop Cobalus head on ever arose, that's when their alliances with the others
would end. That's when the Justice league would take matters into their own hands and stop
this mess before any more lives were lost. The League wasn’t meeting today to expand a plan
for said insubordination, but rather to get away from the watchful eyes of the government for
a second. Bruce was certain most had gathered to complain, but still Clark had deemed his
presence of utmost importance.
Team bonding was a concept Bruce found laughable, but even he could not deny its benefits.

Thanks to his new propulsion system, Bruce was able to cut his travel time to fifteen minutes,
a feat he was certain the astronauts of Apollo 11 would’ve undoubtedly been very jealous of.
The BatJet parked itself inside the massive oval-like structure that spanned eight times the
length of his mansion. Most of it had been built with Bruce’s financial input, but the sturdy
materials had been gathered by Clark and Martian Manhunter from distant worlds. Though
the dark structure wasn’t made of something as sturdy as vibranium, it would still withstand
solar flares and meteor showers with ease, not to mention it was self sustainable and had no
shortage of power or oxygen.

As the landing pad lowered itself into what the others joked to be the football field-sized
garage, Bruce fastened his vambraces with practiced ease, eyes locked on the maze of bridges
and varying rooms built into the surface of the moon. Cowl mask on, he set a swift yet near
silent pace to the main area where the others were already gathered in animated conversation.

Batman was nothing but a black silhouette of shadows, cloak pooling around him as he
settled at the head of the table with the sight of a distant Earth past the massive glass
windows behind him. He didn’t bother with greetings or commentary on the various
conversations going on around him, instead turning to the holograms atop the table’s surface
to see if their satellites had picked up anything of notability.

By their satellites, he meant his.

Batman had all but five seconds of peace to analyze the new information when a gust of wind
rattled beside him. He didn't even bother to look up from his work to where the Flash now
hovered beside him, undoubtedly with a ridiculous grin on his face.

“You’re late,” Barry called out in a sing-song voice.

Fingers tapping away on the holographic keyboard before him, Bruce argued, “I’m ten
minutes early”

Settling atop the desk beside him, the man in the obnoxiously bright red suit clicked his
tongue and argued, “That's late for you, who always makes a point of getting here an hour
earlier than everyone”

When Bruce noticed the conversation had garnered the attention of the others, he fought off
the urge to sigh in annoyance as he waved a hand to vanish all of the reports before him.

Ignoring Diana’s now curious gaze to his right and Clark’s poorly concealed concern to the
left, he admitted dryly, “I was having lunch with my son”

Clearly hoping that would state their curiosity had been a foolish wish. Everyone in
attendance had grown to have a close relationship with Bruce’s children over the years, to the
point that even he couldn’t deny the extent of the familiar bonds that had been forged. He’d
been a little more than hesitant to let the team in attendance discover aspects of his personal
life at first, but now he couldn't help but be glad that his children could boast about having a
large array of aunts and uncles, that holidays were always spent with enough people to
classify as a small party.

His own youth had been spent being the last of the Waynes, with only he and Alfred for
company. There was still something soothing about not living in an empty home that he
hoped his children would always relish in, especially when he knew the sting of loneliness all
too well.

Unfortunately, amongst those in their trusted circle, busybodies like Hal Jordan and Barry
Allen always managed to dim that lovely vision of a big and happy family.

Levitating over to his side of the massive table in a glow of majestic emerald that sometimes
reminded Bruce of the eerie and deadly glow of the Lazarus Pit victims, Hal shouted
enthusiastically, “How is Dick doing nowadays? Excited to be a dad?”

Crossing his arms atop his chest, Bruce glared at the incoming bother for a second or two—
enough to plant the seeds of unease— before admitting, “I was actually with Damian”

The table went silent, only the beeping of distant screens and machines audible around him.
That is until Hal burst out laughing as if Bruce had just told the most amusing joke in the
world.

Predictably, the Flash wasn’t far to follow.

“Someone forgot to take their healthy dose of A+ and is mixing up his words,” the speedster
joked, earning a pat on the back from Bruce’s second greatest annoyance, Hal.

“I’m not a vampire” he chastised even when he knew better by now than to fall into the jest.

“Sure, sure,” Barry added with a wink that sent him and his partner in crime howling back
into the table like hyenas.

“You had lunch with Damian?” Aquaman inquired in disbelief, trident swinging lazily in
circles beside him, “Yeah, right. Where did you guys even go? I thought your son only ate the
corpses of his enemies”

Without missing a beat of this most unexpected teasing, Batman ground out, “He’s
vegetarian”

Waving his hands excitedly in the air, legs swinging childly beside Batman's chair, the Flash
said, “Fine, he eats the plant-based corpses of his enemies then. But are none of us going to
point out the fact that I’ve never heard of Damian agreeing to eat with anyone unless it's a
mandatory family meal? If you were spending some private time with the wife you could’ve
just said so, Bats. We’ll only tease you a little bit for that—”

“I really was with Damian, not that it's any of your business” Bruce interrupted, allowing
some of that impatience to show. A warning not to delve too deeply where they weren’t
wanted, one that as always, was ignored.
“Is Damian in trouble again, or is he the trouble?” Diana dared to ask, not seeming the least
bit hesitant to. She was well aware his retaliations towards her were few in between and
always thought out intensively.

Wonder Woman was one of the few in the world that could get away with that blatant
honesty.

“Nothing of the sort, it's just something I wanted to do after my extensive absences to make
sure he’s doing alright. Especially after he’s been in the middle of many conflicts we
should’ve already put a stop to”

Diana was over five thousand years old, certainly carried the wisdom of those years that she
rivaled his own intellect. The puzzlement behind her eyes wasn’t so much a question on
whether or not he was telling the truth, but concern as to why.

They’d been friends long enough that Diana knew he spoke in halves, and the reason for their
retained friendship was that she knew when to press the matter and when to quietly stew
about it.

Clark was not of a similar mind.

“If you’re worried about Damian, I can ask Jon to keep an eye on him—”

Bruce raised a hand to stop that train of thought.

“Something tells me your son is already doing that of his own volition, and that he is
succeeding immensely at being there in support however he can. Damian is growing into the
man he will become, and I think for once he and I are both proud of where that path is
leading him” he then turned to Diana, the visible half of his face impassive yet honest, “He’s
not in trouble, and even if he was, I’m sure he’d be the last person to appreciate your concern.
What does concern me are the Joker’s next movements”

The members around the table began discussing their next courses of action, or as much as
they could do with the Avengers’ practically shackled to them and the government breathing
down their necks. No one wanted their morality and trust to be put into question by the very
people they dedicated their lives to protecting, so they’d have to tread carefully so as to not
enrage the misled government. Unfortunately, that left them very little room to scheme their
own relations.

As Bruce made his way down one of the tube-like halls whose left side windows overlooked
the darkness of space, he took a second to stop and glance at that frail little planet he called
home. Full of dangers and surprises. A place where in the case of walls being built both
physically and metaphorically between enemies, once up and standing, there was always
someone who wondered what was on the other side.

For once, Bruce Wayne was glad there were people brave enough to take the leap.

Aware of his surroundings, Bruce didn’t even flinch when he heard the telltale signs of Diana
approaching. He didn’t even glance beside him when she carefully set down her sword and
shield against the wall between them. Tendrils of that silky waist-length black hair brushed
against his cape, but it was the sight of that lean yet muscular arm extending out to touch the
barrier between them and space that finally turned his attention her way.

Clearly there was something she was desperate to talk about, otherwise she wouldn’t have
lingered. Why it hadn’t been said earlier during the meeting…now that was the true mystery
about to be unraveled.

“I don’t think I've ever heard you defend Damian so strongly before. You’re really proud of
him and his new status as Queen’s hero, aren’t you?”

He didn’t let it show, but the words took him by surprise. He’d been sorting through hundreds
of topics which Diana might want to discuss privately, planning his clipped responses and
possible observations…yet to speak of his youngest son was not something he’d predicted.

The arms hidden underneath his pooling black cape fisted at his bladed vambraces, trying to
work out the reasoning for the unexpected topic. Diana had always been vocal about her
concern for Damian, especially when Cass seemed to grow out of her troublesome League of
Assassins habits while Damian was still killing.

She’d once threatened to take Damian away and train him in the discipline of the Amazons,
but that was also around the time Bruce was so desperate for some sign of progress that he
himself had threatened Damian with sending him to a school in Switzerland run by a retired
General.

Thankfully, Damian had begun a new path in life before either of them had to take action.

Even so, Diana’s surprise was misplaced.

“I’m always proud of all my children, even when they stumble. Especially then, because they
always get back up with or without my help” he admitted.

The only thing he wouldn't be proud of is if one of his children associated themselves with a
Stark, but that was impossible enough to dispel any worry.

To no one’s surprise, Diana chuckled. “You really do have a big heart underneath all that
body armor, don’t you?”

Bruce focused on the reflection of Batman on the glass, his truest most genuine form after all
these years. That image had instilled raw fear in criminals at the mere mention of the name,
had traveled unseen in the shadows of Gotham, and taken enough hits that were it not for the
combined minds of himself, Alfred, and Lucius Fox…he’d probably be dead.

“It's not just basic body armor, it's made of hardened Kevlar plates on titanium-dipped tri-
weave fibers. You best remember that”

It wasn’t a threat. Those were rare with Diana, but it was a warning all the same.

“How could I forget,” Diana huffed amusedly, “Your armor may be nearly impenetrable, but I
still stand by my statement that there's more than justice and the wrath of battle beneath it”
 His eye roll gone unseen, Bruce pressed, “Is there a reason for your sudden sentimentality?
The museum opens early tomorrow for the new exhibit on the Smithsonian Era which a
certain Ms. Prince is in charge of overseeing. Should you be heading home?”

Diana swiftly moved to stand before him, deep blue eyes honing on his form the way she
might with an enemy. To him that was just her general expression when it came to her being
cautious or disappointed about something he did. Still he eyed that Lasso of Truth strapped to
her side, ready to dodge at a moment's notice if she thought of using it.

“I should stop being surprised at your impeccable knowledge of my schedule in and out of
this armor, but I linger because I really do need to make something clear”, at his patient
silence, she added, “I want you to remember what you said today about Damian. I want you
to be proud of his choices because he’ll need your support at this age more than ever. You
may not always agree with him, but even I can see that he is shaping up to be a great man by
his own design”

Bruce narrowed his obscured eyes at his companion, wondering why she was pressing the
matter all of the sudden. Diana had always been one of Damian’s harshest critics, but
somewhere behind Dick and Alfred, she’d been one of his most ardent secret supporters.

He wondered if the Amazon knew something important, something she was clearly cautious
enough to want to keep secret but pressing enough that she dared mention it. It was a matter
worth investigating later, certainly something to keep in mind with a grain of his own
caution.

Slithering down the hall, Bruce’s booming voice echoed behind him as he replied, “You may
think me a proud man, Diana. But the pride that flows in my veins is due to my children, not
myself”

Mercifully, Diana didn’t follow with any more vague topics to discuss.

Chapter End Notes

Next chapter will be a fun one, with a little vengeful school drama and a visit to one of
Marvel's famed villains!
Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!