stranger things | dick grayson

sixty eight

word count: 3.6k

a/n: a big chapter and big character introduction !!!! (ahhhh)

~

Eleanor pushed the front door to Wayne Manor open, not expecting to be met by the newest house guest rather than Bruce's butler. She knew who he was without any introductions. She softly closed the door behind her, maintaining eye contact with him as she did so.

'Hello, Damian,' Eleanor said quietly, looking down at the boy who resembled his mother in more ways than just his physical appearance. The arrogance in his stance was enough to tell Eleanor that he was there against his will. She was taken aback to find him there, yet somehow, the unexpected had become her new regular. She cursed Bruce for not giving her the heads-up.

'Who are you?' He asked, folding his arms over his chest. His eyes quickly looked her up and down— he was taking in every little detail about her. 'Why do you have a bag?'

'I'm Eleanor, I'm Bruce's daughter,' she said, placing her bag by her feet. He was standing in the middle of the walkway, blocking her from passing. She couldn't bring herself to walk past him; there was an undeniable urge to reach out to him. She wanted to take a moment to let him know that he wasn't alone and had a true friend in her corner, ready to offer support and companionship.

She knew she wanted to embrace her role as a sister again, determined not to repeat the mistakes and fuck it up the way she did with Scott. She felt the weight of that responsibility and was committed to getting it right this time, even if it took several tries.

'You're one of those lost little orphans he's taken pity on, aren't you?'

Eleanor found herself at a complete loss for words, her jaw working silently like a fish gasping for air.

'Damian, go easy on her.'

They looked down the corridor as Bruce came strolling towards them, toying with the rag in his hands. He gave Eleanor a soft smile, one she had grown to enjoy seeing over time, before pressing a kiss into her cheek and taking her bag from her.

'You're just in time. Zoe and I are cleaning in preparation for our dinner party tonight. You're more than welcome to help out.'

'I chose the absolute worst night to come by,' Eleanor whispered as she trailed behind Bruce and Damian. She frowned when Damian shot her a glare over his shoulder, moving closer to Bruce in the process.

Oh boy...

+

Thankfully for Eleanor, the dinner was only for Zoe, a handful of her school friends, and their parents. Of course, it was fancy dress, and Zoe spent the entire afternoon with Eleanor deciding what to wear, distracting the older woman from the father-son duo downstairs. 

Zoe insisted that Eleanor help her with her hair— it had been far too long since she had someone to assist her in this small but meaningful task. The weight of her unkempt locks hung heavily on her mind, a reminder of how disconnected she felt from herself. Bruce, though he tried, didn't know much about hair care—he could barely manage his own. Zoe longed for Eleanor's gentle, practised hands to work through the knots and tangles and to weave something beautiful from the chaos that she kept hidden under various scarves.

'I'm thinking this orange one,' Zoe muttered, holding it up to her body in the mirror. 'What do you think?'

'Maybe it's a little too grown for you,' Eleanor said delicately, taking it from Zoe's grasp. She filled the empty spot with another pink gown, watching as her face lit up in delight. 'Where did you get all of these from?'