We Fight Too Much- A Supersons Fanfiction

Finally Un-Grounded: Our Last Patrol

The boys were officially allowed back on patrol. They were atop the tallest structure in Gotham: The clock tower. In front of the glowing face was the figures of the two boys, sitting on the ledge, eating dinner before going on their final patrol before school started again and they had to focus on their studies for a month.

"Here." Jon said, handing half of a sandwich to Damian.

"Thanks." Damian returned. They ate in silence.

"Man. Our parents were mad at us."

Damian laughed. "They were pissed."

"Yeah." Jon said. He took a bite and watched the breaking sunset with Damian. The new rule was that they weren't allowed out on patrol until it was completely dark and  there was enough moonlight and they had to stick together and Damian had to learn how to ask for help- the roadblock that stopped the boys' patrol for a month. Finally, Damian decided that he would trust Nightwing. If they needed help, he would call- avoiding the lovely treatment of hanging upside-down in a warehouse again, something the boys could finally laugh at.

"This is pretty crazy." Damian said, looking at a Capri-Sun. "It's so much sugar in a tiny little pouch."

"Respect the pouch." Jon said.

"What?"

"Haven't you seen the commercials as a kid?"

"I don't watch television." Damian said.

Jon laughed, lightly. "Yeah. I forgot about that. You aren't normal."

"Nope." Damian replied, sipping on sugary juice.

They finished and looked behind them at the giant clock face. It was almost time. Jon stood up and put his hand out for Damian to pull him up. "I've got it." Damian said, standing up. Jon put their trash in his lunchbox and stored it in the corner of the ledge. "We'll be back." He said, stretching. 

They watched the sun go down until finally it was dark. "Ready?" Damian asked, covering his ears.

"Ready." Jon said, covering his own.

The clock sounded loudly behind them. Shaking the ledge just a bit. They looked at each other. 

"On three?"

"I can carry you this time." Jon offered. "I can fly, you know. I could probably fly to Europe!"

"I'd rather die." Damian refused.

Jon raised an eyebrow. "What happened to learning how to ask for help?"

Damian laughed, uncharacteristically. "Ugh, gross. Fine."

"Let's go!" Jon cheered, picking up Damian. "You're going to love flying."

"Yeah, yeah."

And just like that, they were off, disappearing into the night. Damian would never admit it: he loved flying.