Living In Gotham Is Like. You Are Going To Be Consumed. You Are Going To See Your Worst Fears In Horrific

Balancing Act

Talia al Ghul has always lived a precarious life.

You would think it would have been the training that had pulled at her in those early years. That tore at her. As soon as she was capable of critical thought it had been made clear to Talia that anything less than perfection was not an option.

This had suited her well enough though. Perfection had always come naturally to Talia.

No. It was the deference that had turned survival into a balancing act.

‘Yes, Father’ ‘No, Father’ ‘Of course, Father’. Talia is loyal to her bones, but did it have to be so performative? Did they really have to pretend this hard that her father’s better than her?

Even as a teenager she scoffs at the thought. It’s hardly like anyone could be foolish enough to believe such a lie.

~

Later she meets Bruce. Then the balancing act begins to concern loyalty rather than pride.

Talia has always been perfect and loyal and gifted at living on a knife edge; her father’s blade on one side and some different oblivion on the other. But knowing Bruce brings challenges she hadn’t foreseen.

He’s good. She thinks.

Talia isn’t sure if she’s ever thought that about anyone before.

The pull she feels towards him is something she can’t ignore. It causes the bonds she holds with her father to fray, to weaken. She won’t cut anything yet but Talia is beginning to think that the current situation is untenable.

She has always despised weak things. She will not hesitate to rid herself of such ties.

~

There’s a baby growing in Talia’s stomach.

It’s Bruce’s. She knows it’s Bruce’s. This fact makes her feel a warmth she hadn’t thought herself capable of but it brings with it danger.

She can feel the weight of the child’s legacy pulling at her. It’s a heavy thing, to join the bloodline of an al Ghul with the monster that lurks in Gotham City’s shadows. It’s something Talia thinks might hold greater weight than even her own legacy, if that’s possible.

As her stomach grows and the life inside with it, Talia starts to feel that weight. The heaviness of the body inside her own.

She thinks that this wonderful burden might be what stops the balancing act. What pulls her down from the sharp place where she’s managed to survive for so long.

Talia decides that it’s a change she’s going to embrace.

THEY'VE ONLY GONE AND DONE IT AGAIN

Gus was born to be a showman.

He started doing illusions before he could walk. Adding animations and sound effects to the stories he’d watch his dad tell the world through a crystal ball. His mom would make appropriate noises of approval for every bit of magic he did. She was never one for dramatics, an academic to her core, but that just made her appreciate the pure craftsmanship that went into Gus’s magic. She was the one who saw a prodigy where others saw a show-off.

The older he got the more Gus was drawn into circles of action. Of doing. People used to think of Willow as meek but Gus always managed to see through her awful abomination magic to the core of power beneath. A core that ached to make the world around her grow. Then they met Luz and she was nothing but action. Always doing and acting and influencing the world like no one Gus had ever met.

“How do you measure up?” someone asks him. Someone who doesn’t understand the world like Gus does. “How can you change the world when everything you create is smoke and mirrors?”

Some might think that it’s a valid question but Gus is smarter than that. As a child he sat on his mother’s knee and watched the policies of the Emperor’s Coven change because of the pictures his dad painted with his words. He played god to the entirety of an enemy's world until she ran screaming from his creation. Gus knows the power of smoke and mirrors.

So Gus starts to change things. He covers up wanted posters and Emperor’s Coven propaganda. Then, when that doesn’t feel like enough, he starts to create images of his own. He writes messages in the sky condemning the Emperor. He produces satire about their practices and broadcasts his work right in the center of Bonesborough. Gus builds an insurrection out of illusions.

Gus was born to be a showman. Someone who commands the attention of his audience. Not so many years later he stands in front of a rebellion he incited and he's still holding people's attention. He's still giving them commands.

Gus stands as the architect of an uprising and knows his strength.

Bruce I swear to god call them your fucking sons

“Sometimes I think Batman is the only thing I made right.” Bruce says to no one in particular. The words cause Alfred to freeze for a moment before going back to work. “You disagree?” Bruce asks, not wanting to leave secrets between them.

Alfred looks up at him. “I have always thought of Batman as your worst creation, Sir.”

His tone is serious but Bruce can’t help but laugh. “I made the Red Hood, I made the Joker Alfred. You really think Batman is worse than them?”

“Yes I do, Master Bruce.” Alfred says, refusing to look at him.

The exchange is disjointed enough that Bruce stops laughing immediately. A tense silence is left hanging in the air.

Neither of them say anything else for the rest of the night.

part 1, this on ao3

~

It’s a normal night, until it’s not.

Dick had been purposeful when he had said that Damian could make mistakes. He remembers the way the necessity of perfection had eaten at him when he was younger. He knows that Damian is even more susceptible than he was to that burning self-disgust at anything less than a flawlessness. Upon taking over the mantle of Batman, Dick had decided that Damian needed to know there was at least one adult in his life who wouldn't disown him for delivering anything less than perfection.

He hadn’t thought so much about what would happen when Damian actually did make a mistake.

It happens when Dick is in the middle of congratulating Damian on a particularly impressive move, one with a more gymnastic slant which Dick is sure is based on one of his own trademarks. He’s telling Damian what a good job he’s doing and Damian is puffing up with pride, a smile playing around the edges of his expression. Then Dick catches the glint of the sniper rifle scope.

The ability to dodge bullets is a trademark of members of their family. Damian should feel the whistle of the bullet coming his way, he should jolt back from the air parting in front of him. But Damian's too caught up in his pride to do any of those things quickly enough so within a moment of Dick spotting the rifle scope there’s a bullet in Damian's leg.

Dick is so used to falling that he doesn't remember a time when it didn't feel like flying. The way his stomach drops now though, it doesn't feel like flying. It feels like the kid he said he'd take care of has blood spurting from his leg and it's all Dick's fault.

To his credit Damian is very calm about it. Dick knows he’s been shot before although he doesn’t know if it was a purposeful part of the boys training or not. His blood boils at either prospect. Even as the crowd is still screaming for their heroes to come save them Dick grabs Damian from the blood soaked ground and rushes to the batmobile, putting it on autopilot as he tries to stabilise the patient.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, “I’m sorry. We’ll be back at home in no time and we’ll get you all fixed up, okay?” Dick blinks away the tears at the sight of Damian bloody and pale in front of him. Impediments to his vision will only make it harder to get Damian stable.

“Okay.” Damian replies, voice remarkably steady.

Now aware that someone he trusts is going to make it all better, Damian promptly passes out.

“Shit.” Dick says, young ears now unable to hear him. “Shit shit shit shit shit. Fuck.”

He swears to his heart's content for the rest of the ride back to the manor and it does very little to make him feel any better.

No, the swirling sea of worry-guilt-anguish in his stomach only begins to abate at the sight of Alfred in the bat cave, perfectly calm and with all the necessary medical supplies ready. They get Damian to a bed and Dick tries to make himself useful as Alfred treats the bullet wound.

He isn’t particularly useful and spends most of his time fretting.

“He’ll be fine, Master dick.” Alfred says once he’s finished up and washing the blood from where it had stained his skin.

“Of course he will.” Dick replies, attempting to sound a little more nonchalant than he actually is. From the look Alfred gives him he doesn’t think he succeeds.

He’s spared the indignity of having to say anything else by the rumble of Tim’s motorbike pulling into the cave. Tim gets off with an urgency Dick isn’t sure he expected and when he takes his domino off there’s genuine worry in the frown between his eyes.

“Is he okay?” he asks, his tone frantic.

“He’ll be fine.” Dick's grateful to find that his voice is far more level now than it was ten minutes ago.

Tim tilts his head to the side, looking at Dick. His expression narrows into something slightly more analytical than concern. “Are you okay?”

Dick tries to say yes. He really does. He's Tim’s big brother, he’s Batman. Of course he can tell his little brother that he’s okay. But after a moment of silence Dick glances towards where Damian lies far too still on their operating table and feels the tears he's been fighting off resurface in his eyes.

Tim nods as if this is confirming something. “Come on.” He says. “Let’s get out of here.”

Dick tries to protest that Damian needs someone to be here when he wakes up but Tim just continues to pull him gently out of the cave.

“He’s going to be out for the next few hours. I can make you hot chocolate in the meantime.”

Dick wants to keep protesting but he’s been left tired and weak by the nights events. He allows himself to slump as his little brother leads him out of the darkness.

~

Dick talks. Significantly more than he had intended to.

He talks about how he can’t balance this awful dichotomy of guardian and commander. He talks about how he’s still not entirely sure how to be Batman, let alone a parent. He talks about how he can’t keep doing this without something breaking.

Probably him. Possibly Damian. Both answers are unacceptable.

“I’ll to fix this” Tim says. The determination in his expression reminds Dick of when he came to his bludhaven apartment all those years ago and demanded Dick reprise his roll as Robin. “I’m going to make a call, we’ll sort this out.” he promises.

Tim’s always been good at that. Tugging on the fraying strings of their family tapestry until it resembles something whole. It’s how he came into the family in the first place and Dick has always been grateful for that.

Tim leaves, already dialing a number into his phone with a look of intense concentration. Dick wants to go check on Damian but Alfreds got that handled so it’s not like he’ll actually help. Sitting idle at the boys bedside will probably just make him feel worse.

So Dick hangs his head and waits for someone to save him.

~

“Give me a lift to the airport?” Tim asks far too sweetly. The tone of voice doesn’t suit him.

“You can drive.” Dick points out, suspicious.

Tim gives him a look, like Dick's being difficult on purpose. “It’ll be a bonding opportunity.” he says, his tone lowering to something closer to his usual cadence. Dick still feels suspicious but there’s a million things he has to do today that are more important than arguing with his only sane brother, so he nods. Tim grins in response and gets up with a lot more energy than he tends to these days.

Dick decides that there’s little use in thinking on it more. He’s in charge of far too many things at the moment, he’ll let Tim control this one.

~

Cass appears in the collection area, suitcase in hand, and Dick feels the weight of the world become significantly lighter.

She's more muscled than she was when she left. Her footsteps are more confident. It makes pride rise in Dick's throat as he realises how brave his little sister is for growing so much all by herself.

She picks up her pace once Tim and Dick are in view, almost breaking into a jog as she approaches. She wraps an arm around each of them and Dick can feel her smile pressing against his cheek.

Dick realises that his own smile is pressing against Cass’s cheek. His chin is somehow resting in Tim’s hair.

He savours the moment and feels more full than he has in a long time.

“Welcome home.” He says into Cass’s neck. He feels her smile even wider in response.

~

That night as Dick is about to go on patrol Cass taps his shoulder.

“I can do it.” she says, pointing at the Batman suit Dick had been about to start putting on.

Dick frowns, pushing away the golden hope bleeding into the edges of his soul. “It won’t fit.” he says.

Cass shrugs. “I won’t wear it. But I can do it.”

Dick feels his frown deepen. Cass is younger than him and she hasn’t been in Gotham for so long. It’s not a good idea for her to take on the mantle. She’s already got far too much weighing her down without adding another impossible burden for her to bear.

Dick looks past Cass for a second to allow his eyes to rest on Tim, busying himself with sorting his own gear out but none too subtly watching the exchange between Dick and Cass. He gives a slight nod. An endorsement. Dick looks back to Cass who is smiling very gently at his indecision.

“Okay.” he says, and the room releases a sigh of relief.

~

Cass has been Batman every night since she got back a week ago and Dick hasn’t felt this light since Bruce died.

She was always the best fighter out of them. Always a little faster, a little more cutting, than any of her brothers. She isn’t as used to the detective aspect of things but she's surrounded by enough people trained in that aspect of the job that it isn’t a problem. Dick wears the Nightwing suit and flies higher than he has in months. Damian tends to work with Cass, Batman needs a Robin after all, but will pop up on Dick's patrols with silent requests for ice cream and a shoulder to lean on.

Cass can be Damian's Batman. Dick can be his guardian. It was always too much to ask of Bruce, for him to be both. For him to be their teacher and their hero and their father. Splitting the load seems to be going far better than anything Bruce used to try.

~

Sometimes Dick will catch Tim smiling at him the same way he does at a problem just solved. He wants to say thank you. Thank you for letting me outrun that awful burden for a little longer. Thank you for saving me. But he supposes that’s just what brothers are for.

Instead he asks Tim if he wants to go train surfing. They haven’t since before Bruce died. Dick was far too busy trying to keep the world from collapsing in on itself and Tim was too busy trying to find a way to stop Dick from crumbling under the pressure of it.

“Yeah.” Tim says, his smile twisting and morphing until it goes from analytical to soft and relieved. “Yeah I’d like that.”

~

"Do you miss him?" Damian asks one day. Dick doesn't need any clarification on who he's talking about.

The two of them are sat on a rooftop, legs swinging over the side. Damian is holding a rum and raisin ice cream Dick had pressed firmly into his hand. Dick decided a while ago that Damian should be offered the opportunity to try all the flavours he missed out on in the earlier part of his childhood and he thinks they're making some pretty good progress.

Dick considers for a moment. It's a complicated question. "Yes," he starts, because of course he does, "But it doesn't hurt like it used to. Not now that I can focus on being myself instead of squeezing myself into the shape of the person I'm mourning. And you?"

"Yes." Damian starts, because of course he does. He pauses for longer than Dick did but that makes sense. Damian's thoughts are complicated enough that Dick can't help but be proud of the kid for being able to untangle even a few of them. "But I know a lot of people who've died. And at least this time I gained what I came searching for regardless of what happened to Father."

It's not a thank you. Dick knows that it's going to take a little more time for Damian to learn how to shape his mouth into those words. But it's a start.

Dick looks at all the life surrounding him and smiles.

Day 5: Lunar Witch🌙

Gus is best boy⭐️

Scars, India Lawton / Becca Stadlander / This Party Never Ends, Diana Zhuk / Burning House in Winter, Bettmann Archive / Daria Golab / Shadow Work, Indigo / Painting Disaster From A Distance, Motohide Takami / Burn it Down, Brian Luong / Red House, Morten Schelde

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