Batsis Stories, Imagines, & One-Shots

Forging Paths PT. 3

Both parties stared at one another in a silent stalemate. Jason sat on a stool at the bar smirking, Dick stood next to Alfred in a mixed state of disbelief and recognition, and Tim and Damian sat at the table with raised eyebrows and wide open mouths. (Y/N) took one look at Tim and Damian and spoke.

"Oi Nerd-bird and Short-stack, you're gonna catch flies with your mouths open like that." Jason and Dick started to laugh as Tim and Damian shut their mouths. Tim still looked shocked, but Damian's face set into a glare and the disdain was evident when he spoke.

"Why are you here?" (Y/N) narrowed her eyes and returned his glare.

"I'm here because Jason needed me. Anything beyond that is none of your business kid." (Y/N) walked over to where the refrigerator was and began rifling through it. Jason called out from behind her.

"Beers on the second shelf from the bottom." (Y/N) raised a hand in conformation, pulled a bottle from the shelf, and cracked it open. Walking back over to where Jason sat, she hopped on the stool next to him and reclined her upper body onto the bar, head lolling backwards. Inhaling quickly, she raised her head back up and took a swig of her beer. Dick moved to stand in front of the bar and spoke.

"Long day?" She hummed in agreement, a small smile adorned on her face.

"Long day Dickie and an even longer night ahead of us." Dick smiled at the nickname and leaned over to ruffle his younger sister's hair. Batting his hand away she looked at him and smiled. Damian quipped up from behind them.

"We don't need the help of someone who abandons Gotham City and father." (Y/N)'s face dropped into a cold stare as she set her beer down and sat up. Hunching over she leaned her elbows on her knees, and she heard Jason mutter an "oh no", from beside her.

"Watch your mouth kid. You don't want to start a fight with me; I'm not like these guys. I'll finish it." Damian rose to his feet and began walking around the table.

"I'd like to see you try." (Y/N) stood up and began moving towards Damian when Jason and Dick intervened; Jason placing an arm across her chest as Dick stepped in front of Damian. Dick spoke quickly hoping to avoid a fight.

"Hey, hey, there's no reason to fight right now, and frankly, we don't need infighting when we've got such a serious problem on our hands." (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at Dick and sat back down, responding,

"I don't have a problem, so long as the little twerp over there minds his own business and leaves me alone." Damian no doubt would've lunged at her had Dick not had a hold of him.

"I am not a twerp, you troglodyte." (Y/N) barked a laugh at the insult.

"That was a good one two-bit. Got anymore?" Damian's nose turned upwards in disgust.

"Plenty." (Y/N)'s eyes narrowed, but not with anger, perhaps more of admiration and humor; she hadn't heard such an attitude since Jason was Robin. She turned back to her beer and resumed drinking; Damian moved to lean against the wall. Dick returned to the bar and spoke to her.

"We're really glad you're here (Y/N). I don't know if we could handle this on our own." (Y/N) opened her mouth to respond but Tim beat her to it.

"Mathematically speaking, we have a high percentage at successfully beating down the gangs and pushing back the League, but we'd take some seriously heavy hits and a lot more civilian casualties. With (Y/N) involved, we can cut casualties by about 57%, and raise our chance at success from 79% to a solid 90%." (Y/N) stared at Tim with wide eyed astonishment, before questioning him.

"Did you just do that off the top of your head?" Tim nodded his head to her. "Damn kid, that's impressive." Tim lowered his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide the blush creeping up at the compliment.

"It was nothing really, just simple math. It's what I was trained to do." (Y/N) pulled a face and waved off the modesty.

"Bah, I'm not him Nerd-bird. When I know something is impressive and worthy of admiration, I speak on it. Encourages them to do better. You being able to do math lighting fast like that is pretty damn cool and I admire the ability." Tim had only been complimented like this a few times in his entire 18 years of existence, and hearing one so real made his heart feel light. Damian rolled his eyes and snorted.

"Don't let it go to your head Drake; any of us could do that." Tim's head whipped up and he glared at Damian.

"Oh yeah Demon-spawn? I think you're just jealous she complimented me and not "Mr. Blood Son"." Damian began to make his way over to Tim as he began rising from his seat. Next thing they knew, they're both being whacked in the side of the head with silver spoons. Holding their heads and looking down at the spoons on the floor they turned back towards (Y/N).

"Did you just throw spoons at our heads?" Tim asked, rubbing the side of his head where the spoon had hit him. (Y/N) reclined her head back onto the bar, shutting her eyes and confirmed.

"Yes. Yes I did. And if the two of you don't separate and put a lid on it, I'm gonna beat the ever living-shit out of you both." Tim didn't need to be told twice, especially by (Y/N) and retired back to the table; Damian marched in front of her and stood indignantly.

"You wouldn't be able to touch me." This kid just doesn't know when to quit does he? She thought. She moved like lightening, gripping the back of Damian's neck and slamming him down to the floor, before securing her legs over his and twisting his hands behind his back. The atmosphere in the kitchen turned hostile and everyone went deathly still. It was so quiet you could've heard a pin drop. (Y/N) leaned in until her lips almost touched Damian's ear before she spoke. Her voice, almost silent, but laced with venom.

"Listen to me very carefully Damian Wayne, because I am only going to say this once. I am not somebody to fuck with. You think you're special because Bruce Wayne is your daddy, Talia al Ghul is your mommy, and Ra's al Ghul is your grand-daddy? I have news for you kid; Bruce Wayne is my father too. You wanna know how special that makes me? Absolutely fucking nothing. You aren't the only person who has assassination training and multiple fighting techniques. The difference between me and you is the fact that I'm not bound by the same shit-code you are. I kill people, and I have no problems doing it, blood or no. So you remember this the next time you plan on confronting me again. Understood?" Damian nodded his head in acceptance. (Y/N) twisted his arm tighter. "I said, understood?" Damian grit his teeth and choked out.

"I understand." (Y/N) let go and sat back down, watching as Damian pulled himself off the floor and rubbed his arms. The other 4 men in the kitchen were as still as possible, Alfred being the only person brave enough to break the silence.

"Ms. (Y/N), Master Damian, now that the two of you are over your little tiff, would you like dinner?" Damian shook his head and sat at the table; (Y/N) turned around at the bar and replied.

"Some dinner sounds great Alfie. What do we have?" Alfred smiled as he placed a plate in front of her.

"When I heard that if you were coming, it would be tonight, I took it upon myself to make chicken Alfredo. I remember it being your favorite as a child." (Y/N) let her exterior crack and allowed a sweet smile to grace her lips.

"It still is Alfie. It still is." Alfred returned to the sink and began washing dishes as (Y/N) started to eat. Jason and Dick being the kids they are started sticking their forks into her food. It almost looked like a game of 'Footsies', but instead of feet, they were using forks. And instead of rubbing forks, they were stabbing each other, laughing hysterically when one cried out in exaggerated pain. This continued on for a few minutes until the door leading into the kitchen swung open and someone stepped inside. Immediately it became quiet again and everyone turned to face the doorway. (Y/N) steeled her emotions and set her face into a blank. Leaning back from the bar, she looked at him; he stared back at her. He's not even surprised. I guess he knew what Jason meant when he asked to try something. He knew I was coming. He was silent and then he spoke.

"(Y/N)."

"Bruce."