Personal Warfare

Mislabeled Trust

Bruce's POV

Sleep hadn't come easy to me at all. Even with Selina beside me, I was restless and tense. My head was full of so many different thoughts, yet I couldn't focus on any singular one.

On Top of Damian still being unresponsive and hurt, I'd found out Tim and Jason have been having a secret relationship right under my nose.

Not that I really cared that much. They were both adults and could make their own decisions, but just that fact that so many things seemed to be kept from me in my own home.

Damian's mental stability and health and the relationships of people I'm supposed to be able to trust.

I wanted to be happy for them honestly, but instead it just seemed to add to the weight of frustration and worry that was already pushing me down.

The cup I was holding slipped from my hands and crashed on the floor, shattering glass all around my feet and I grunted in frustration, placing a shaky fist against the counter top.

Suddenly, two smaller hands were on mine and I looked at them before looking up into Selina's eyes, already feeling the anger slip away just from her touch.

"Bruce, you need to rest. Let me do this." She gently pushed me towards a chair before kissing my forehead.

I sighed heavily, holding her hand tightly in mine to keep her from moving away. So many words swam around in my brain, but I didn't need to say anything for her to just know.

She cupped my cheek, looking at me with a soft expression. "He will be okay. He's your son and if we know anything, it's that he's just as stubborn as you." A small smile pulled at her lips and I couldn't help but mirror it.

"I know you're right, I just can't help but worry. He's still unconscious and-" I sighed out again, shaking my head before pinching the bridge of my nose.

Selina nodded, running a hand through my hair. "I know. We're all worried, but let's just focus on breakfast, okay? I'll make you some more coffee."

She kissed my cheek then pulled away from me, turning to walk back towards the coffee maker and started cleaning up the broken glass.

She had been a solid rock for me through this whole thing. I honestly don't know what I would've done if she hadn't been here. I loved her so much.

As she started a fresh pot of coffee, Jon stumbled into the kitchen. His hair sticking up in every direction and a glare that could surpass my own on his face.

I eyed him, a deep frown creasing my lips again. "Jon, did you get any sleep?"

He walked past me, waving his hand at me slightly in acknowledgement before gratefully taking the cup of coffee Selina offered him.

He took a large gulp before finally looking at me as he sighing out slowly. "Honestly-...no. For two reasons; One, Damian's room is right by Jason's and two...I just...couldn't sleep. Not with Damian still how he is."

He huffed and sat down, taking another long drink as Selina handed me my own cup. I thanked her then looked at Jon again, trying to think of what to say.

He and Damian had been friends for years and on top of that, they'd been dating for a few of those more recent years too. Either way, I knew Jon cared for Damian just as much, if not more so than the rest of us. 

So it didn't surprise me at all that he looked this rough. Especially since he'd been the one with Damian when everything happened.

I couldn't even begin to imagine the images surfacing in his memories of seeing his best friend and lover falling so deep into a darkness he couldn't pull him out of.

"I know. I'm sorry, Jon. Everything that happened, everything you saw, if you need to talk-" His head shot up and his breath hitched. Like he remembered something important. I raised an eyebrow.

"I um, well, actually...there's something I do need to tell you." He set his cup down and Selina took a seat next to me. "What is it, sweaty?" She gave Jon a reassuring look.

He looked back and forth between us then looked down, sighing anxiously. "When everything happened, Damian he-...he said he had to stop the voice in his head."

My eyes widened and I leaned forward, a new kind of worry coursing through me. "A voice? What voice? Jon, what did he say?"

Selina's hand squeezed my arm gently and I realized I had raised my voice. Jon was looking down again, his shoulders tense as his hands squeezed tightly around the mug.

I sighed out slowly.

"I'm sorry, Jon. Please, continue. What voice?" I tried to talk softly despite feeling so many emotions run through me. I was already worried and scared, did I need to be angry too?

"He said it was his mother. Talia. He looked so...so hopeless and scared. Like doing what he did was the only way to silence her." Jon shook as he spoke, heaving out a rigid breath.

Selina reached over, grabbing his hand as I just stared at him, not sure at all how exactly to process any of this.

Talia!?

Talia had been dead for years and I honestly thought her influence on him died right along with her. To know now that she had never truly gone away, I felt sick.

"All this time...he's never said anything. Never lead any of us to believe something was really wrong." I grit my teeth and rubbed my face still processing all of this.

Jon took a deep breath, messing with the rim of his cup subconsciously before clearing his throat. "Well, actually, a few days ago, I did notice some weird behavior from him, but he had promised to ask for help."

I eyed Jon again, watching as tears puddled in his eyes as he looked off to the side. "If I had just pushed a little more, maybe gotten him to open up just a little...maybe I could've prevented this."

A soft sob escaped his mouth and Selina immediately rushed over to hug him, telling him not to blame himself and that none of this was his fault.

I felt a pang in my chest and rubbed at it above my shirt.

She was right. This wasn't Jon's fault. After all, he's not supposed to be one of the greatest detectives. I am.

"Fu*k!" I rubbed my face again as both of them turned towards me.

I never should've benched him. He needed help and instead I took away the only thing in his life he was truly proud of.

Robin.

"Jon, she's right. This isn't your fault. This is mine. When something seemed off, instead of trying to help, I benched him from being Robin." I grit my teeth again, shaking my head and feeling a sharp pulse beat behind my temples.

"I should've known. I should've- I'm batman dammit! He's my son! Talia is dead and I just assumed everything was okay!" I stood up, slamming a hand down on the table with a loud bang before leaving the room.

I needed air. I needed space. I needed to punch the shit out of something. Someone. I needed to be Batman right now, father of the night and not Bruce Wayne, father of my son.

At least I was still deserving of one of those titles.