Custody
Title: Custody
Author: creepylicious/alles_luege
Pairing: Bruce/John (eventually), Bruce/OFC
Rating: PG-NC-17
Summary: In which John is adopted by Wayne, grows up in the manor and develops feelings for Bruce.
“Yeah. People are assholes.”
“Can't argue that, but you have to be a better man.”
“I'm thirteen,” John says a bit petulantly.
“You are growing up fast. In a few years you will be surrounded by people who are dicks for a lot of reasons. You have to find a way to live with it. Or fight it in a less violent way.”
“What you're saying is that I shouldn't get caught-”
“That is not what I am trying to say,” Wayne interrupts, but John really doesn't believe him. He's broken a million rules as Batman and he did it because he knew it couldn't be traced back to him. Suddenly John feels stupid for letting his anger win.
Warning(s): age difference, first time, canon violence, wip
Author’s Notes: Based on this prompt. Au-ish. Still kind of canon-based/compliant.
Word Count: 5.797(this part)
Beta: mockingj91
Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own, not real
PART I. (age 12-14)
~one~
John doesn't have much hope anymore that people; couples; possible parents will choose him. He is labelled the problem child already. He might be cute or whatever, but he’s angry all the time and he can't seem to manage to hide it.
He's been in three foster-families and to be honest he's had enough of this. They tried, some of them were even really good people, but John - John doesn't want to forget, doesn't want to leave it behind. What John wants is justice, but he knows he won't get that.
With being twelve he's too old to appeal to people anyway. He had his chances and blew them. Doesn't matter, in six years he'll be out of here and- well John has no idea. He'll cross that bridge when - and all that jazz.
~+~
To say John is surprised that someone is going to try it again with him is an understatement of the century. The fact that it's an older guy, well. He looks like money, so John is cautious. People with money aren't, in John's experience, good people. They think they can have whatever, whoever, because they can afford to pay for it. John isn't a thing to be sold.
“Master John,” the guy says with a look. “Is that all you want to take with you?”
John only packed the things he couldn't live without. Three pairs of socks and underwear, two shirts, one pair of jeans, the picture of his parents from a better time, a book of French fables and the drawing of Batman Andy made for his tenth birthday. Not that John said anything about his Batman crush to Andy. Andy just knows shit and he doesn't judge you for it. John will miss Andy.
“Yeah,” John answers.
The guy makes a complicated face, like he is sad or something. “Well, then we'll have to go shopping for all the other stuff you will need on Monday.”
To be honest John doesn't think he will still be with this guy on Monday. He keeps that to himself.
Mister Pennyworth seems like a good guy.
~+~
John can't really believe it. He knew Mister Pennyworth was money, but this. He takes a deep breath.
“Do you live here alone?” he asks. He's never seen a house so freaking big. It took them nearly ten minutes from the gate to the front of it.
“No, with Master Bruce,” Mister Pennyworth answers.
“He's like your-?” John looks at him and Pennyworth looks right back, a bit confused.
“Oh,” he says softly. “No, I work here. For Mister Bruce Wayne. I'm the butler.”
Hmm, John thinks. The Master John thing wasn't a slip then.
“Any idea why I'm here?” John asks, shouldering his backpack.
Mister Pennyworth is silent for a few seconds. “A few,” he says, but he doesn't sound happy or really convinced.
John's heard about Wayne. Everyone and their grandmother has. He's seen Wayne once too - outside of a magazine that is - and he is pretty sure what he saw no one else could see. People only see what they want to see, or Wayne is just that good at putting on his mask. Maybe John can learn a thing or two during his stay here. No matter how short.
~+~
He doesn't see Wayne for the rest of the day. He settles into his new room. Too freaking big and empty of anything that would make it a real, lived in room, but he is too afraid to pin the picture of Batman over the desk. The wallpaper looks really expensive.
When he's done unpacking - ha! - he goes down to the kitchen and gets lost twice in the process, to find Mister Pennyworth making dinner.
His stomach rumbles right on cue.
Mister Pennyworth smiles. “I made sandwiches and tea.”
“Great, thank you,” John answers, sitting down at the ancient looking table. “Is he busy? Does he know I'm here? Is he going to see me?” he asks between bites.
“Eventually. And yes, he does know you're here Master John.”
John makes a face. “Drop the Master. I’m not-”
Mister Pennyworth hesitates and then smiles. “John then.”
“Yeah,” John answers.
~+~
Wayne doesn't come down for dinner, so John doesn't see him. He goes to bed early and tries not to think what he is even doing here. What Wayne would want with a kid like him. Wayne just doesn't seem like the type who adopts poor angry orphans. On the other hand: what the hell does John know?
He'll find out soon enough.
~two~
On Monday Mister Pennyworth takes John into the city (the good part, the freaking expensive part where John feels like he doesn't belong) to get some clothes and other necessary stuff, which also seems to include a laptop. Not that John doesn't want one, but he wonders if he has to give it back when they send him to the orphanage, because it doesn't work out.
“We need to get you measured for the school uniform, too,” Mister Pennyworth says.
John stops in the middle of the pavement. “What?”
“School? You are only twelve after all. I can't be home-schooling you and your old school sure doesn't challenge you enough.”
John wonders how Mister Pennyworth knows that, but then he probably got all of John's school-records.
What about the other boys? John wants to ask. Who is going to protect Andy from bullies when John isn't there?
John crosses his arms over his chest. “I don't want to change schools.” He is not going to budge on this one.
Mister Pennyworth seems to see it too. “Fine. We leave it out today and get you new shoes instead, but you'll have to take this up to Master Wayne.”
John wonders if he'll have to call Wayne 'Master' too. No way in hell.
“Okay.”
“Are you hungry? I am starving,” Mister Pennyworth says and John nods. He is hungry; who knew shopping for t-shirts could be so exhausting? John's never done it before. If he did with his real parents he can't remember and later the foster-parents did the shopping and John was wearing what they wanted him to. Tried to be what they wanted, but it didn't work.
Mister Pennyworth doesn't try to throw stuff at him. He waits patiently while John looks around and decides. John is who he is with Mister Pennyworth and Mister Pennyworth doesn't seem to mind. John suspects he has years of experience with dealing with angry orphans. Well, one orphan. But even one can be too much on some days.
~+~
John isn't afraid. He has no idea what to expect, because this whole thing came out of the blue. One day he's in the orphanage, and the other Mister Pennyworth takes him away, so, really John has no idea why he's here, but he'll make the best of it.
He enters the library after dinner - with Mister Wayne absent again - and looks around.
“John,” Mister Wayne says from a dark corner. John can barely make him out in the shadows.
“Wayne,” John answers, because no way is he going with Master or dad, or what-the-heck-ever. He's on shaky ground here. And Wayne knows it.
“Take a seat,” Wayne says. It doesn't sound like a question.
John takes a seat and waits. “I hear you gave Alfred a hard time?”
John balls his hands to fists. He did not. “And what if?”
Wayne doesn't say anything for a few, endless, seconds. “He doesn't deserve that. He’s a good person.”
John knows that. “I did not give him a hard time. I just don't want to change schools.”
“But your school bores you to death. You are too smart to be there.”
John huffs. He knows that too. “That is not the point.”
Wayne leans over and he looks pale and kind of sickly, John thinks. Nothing like the guy he saw that one time at the orphanage. He looks…broken, John thinks.
“What is the point then? Of you throwing away your future?”
John wants to snap at Wayne, he doesn't. He keeps his anger under wraps. But just barely. He takes a deep breath. He doesn't want to tell Wayne. He didn't want to tell Mister Pennyworth either. Even if he thinks Mister Pennyworth would understand.
“I can still do alright if I go to a public school.”
“You could do better with a private school and I can afford to send you there.”
“And what do you want in return?” John asks, just because he feels violent and like he needs to be nasty and lash out.
“Nothing,” Wayne says.
And that right there? That is bullshit if John's ever heard any. Everyone wants something. “Right,” he answers.
“If you don't want to tell me, fine. Don't. But if you don't have a better reason than 'I don't want to change schools' you are going to the private school as soon as things can be arranged. And they can be arranged really fast for me.”
John bites his lip, mulling this over. He doesn't think Wayne is bluffing. “Go to bed, you need to be measured tomorrow for your new uniform,” Wayne dismisses.
Fuck, John thinks.
~+~
John doesn't hate the new uniform, and he doesn't hate going out shopping with Mister Pennyworth again. He likes his new room. He still isn't sure he will be able to stay, but chances are good, if Wayne is already going all authoritative on his ass. The thing is that Wayne's argumentation makes sense to John. Wayne doesn't do this to be mean or to demonstrate he has the power. John really believes he tries to do something good.
But the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
~+~
Mister Pennyworth makes pancakes and John watches, playing with the fork.
“So, why are you so set on not changing schools?”
“Will you tell Wayne?” John asks.
“Probably,” Mister Pennyworth answers.
John wants to tell someone about Andy. And Wayne and Mister Pennyworth are the only two people living here besides him. He saw a photo of a pretty woman with dark hair, but so far he hasn’t seen her around.
“When I'm not around, Andy is bullied at school,” John says.
“Ah, I understand,” Mister Pennyworth answers. His eyes are smiling gently. He puts a pancake on John's plate and takes out three bottles of syrup out of a cupboard.
John takes the red one and hopes it’s raspberry. He opens it, smells it first before he pours it on his pancake. “Don't you think he will learn to take care of himself?”
“He’s interested in art,” John answers, because this should tell Mister Pennyworth everything.
“And why didn't you tell this Master Bruce?”
John shrugs. He has no idea. He just doesn't want to tell people his secrets. He doesn't want to talk about things that are important to him - or people. Mister Pennyworth is different. John has the feeling Mister Pennyworth just gets things.
“Do you want to go to the new school?” Mister Pennyworth asks.
John does. God, does he ever want to go to that fancy private school. He's read the brochure and it sounds like the place to be if you are a twelve year old rich kid and smart. “Yeah,” John says and hates himself a bit for it.
Mister Pennyworth nods and sits down to eat his own pancakes.
John wonders what will happen next.
~+~
What happens next is that he finds himself in the library again that evening. He suspects this is the place that is reserved for 'serious discussions about life'.
“John,” Wayne says.
“Wayne,” John answers. The lamps are on, so he can see Wayne way better than the last time. He still looks too thin and haunted. John sits down in the comfortable chair. “You talked to Mister Pennyworth.” It's not a question.
Wayne's lips do something complicated that could be called a smile one day.
“I did. So, you want to look out for your friend.”
“Andy,” John throws in. People tend to dismiss names of kids they don't know. They don't care about, but if you give them a picture, a name, a back-story, it's harder to just dismiss them.
“Andy,” Wayne answers. “You're afraid he's not strong enough to make it on his own through school.”
“He is strong, but he doesn't have to be beat up to prove that one day. Bruises don't form character.” John believes that too. You can be a good person without having been abused.
Wayne leans back in his chair and looks at John, like he's searching for something, or like he just found it. “Fine. I'll pay for his tuition too.”
“What?” Because John's seen what a year there costs. A fuckload of money.
“I'll tell Alfred to arrange everything with the schools and the orphanage.”
“I-” he stops, takes a deep breath. He wants to ask why, but he doesn't. Andy deserves to go to a good school and not be bullied. He deserves it more than him, John thinks. “Thanks,” he gets out.
“You are welcome, John.”
~+~
So, that's how he finds himself attending a freaking fancy school with Andy at his side. He has the stupid urge to grab Andy's hand for reassurance. Andy links their pinkies together in the car on their way to the school and John feels like he can breathe again.
He is still John Blake. But no one knows anything about him here. He and Andy are just two new boys.
“Thank you,” Andy whispers.
John nods. He has no idea what to say. This isn't his doing. Wayne offered and John, well, maybe he'll have to pay for it, maybe he won't.
“You deserve this,” John says eventually.
“You do too,” Andy answers, because he is just that freakishly good at reading John.
~three~
John doesn't want to, but he's settling into a routine at the manor and at school. He spends most of his evenings with Mister Pennyworth, who somewhere along the way became Alfred.
They're usually in the kitchen, baking, playing cards or talking. Alfred likes to listen to John's stories from school. John suspects that Alfred misses this; having a kid at home.
“Has Wayne got a girlfriend?” John asks, taking a sip of tea.
“No,” Alfred answers, he looks sad as he says it.
“But there is this picture of a pretty woman in the living room.”
“Rachel,” Wayne says from the door. John didn't even hear him in the hall. Wayne is a fucking ninja. He could be John reasons. Batman had to have learned the moves somewhere.
“Master Bruce,” Alfred throws in. He gets up and prepares a mug of tea for Wayne like he thinks Wayne will stay with them in the kitchen.
“Rachel,” John says. “So, why isn't she your girlfriend?”
“Because she's dead,” Wayne answers.
Oh, John thinks. Well, that would explain a thing or two.
Wayne steps into the kitchen and sits down at the table taking the mug from Alfred. Seems Alfred knows Wayne pretty fucking well after all. John wants to ask a million questions, but he doesn't think he has the right. He takes a sip of tea instead. Suddenly the kitchen lost its appeal. And its warmth.
Wayne is a gloomy guy. He didn't use to be that way. Maybe Wayne just doesn't bother with the mask in his own home. John wouldn't either.
“How long?” John asks.
“What?”
“Master John!” Alfred warns. Alfred still sometimes slips, or maybe he is using 'Master John' to scold. Could be a real possibility, John thinks. He'll have to test that theory someday, soon.
“How long is she dead?” John clarifies, ignoring Alfred.
“A few months,” Wayne answers.
Which is super vague, John thinks. People like to use a 'few months' as an excuse. It could be three to nine. Or longer. “This is the reason why you're wandering the manor like a lost soul?”
Wayne laughs and it sounds startled out of him. “That bad?”
“Dude,” John says. The 'duh' is totally implied.
“Maybe,” Wayne answers, taking a sip of his tea. Alfred looks at John and then at Wayne, there is something tender and warm in his eyes. Alfred gets them, John thinks and still isn't sure it's a good thing.
John is used to keeping shit to himself. Well, mostly. Andy knows stuff, but not because John tells him.
John lets it be. It's none of his business.
~+~
John does some research on that Rachel woman and what he comes up with isn't pretty. Of course John knows about the Joker, he was the talk last year. The terror was mostly kept at bay at the orphanage, but they weren't completely sheltered. John is pretty sure Wayne is Batman, was Batman (and John never believed the shit they tell about Batman now), so this would be able to break him. She seemed to be the love of his life. She probably knew too.
John closes the laptop and stares at the picture of Batman Andy drew him. Will he come back, he wonders.
Does the city still need him with all the new laws in place? John would say, hell yes. There is still a lot of crazy shit happening, John is sure of it.
~+~
“So?” Andy asks. They're sitting outside soaking up the sun.
“So what?” John asks back, not looking at him. He knows what Andy wants to know, but he has no idea how to answer it without lying.
Andy sighs. “So, how is it being Wayne's son?”
“I am not his son.”
Andy punches him in the arm, but it doesn't hurt, because Andy never really learned how to punch someone and he doesn't want to either. It was always John who did the punching around Andy.
“What are you then?”
“No idea. His ward?”
“But why?” Andy asks and John knows exactly what he means.
“No idea. There are better boys at the orphanage, there’s you.”
Andy punches him again. “That is not what I mean and you know it. I mean, why does he want to have a kid around? A kid that isn't his. I mean he can have kids, right?”
“I didn't ask!”
Andy laughs. “Maybe he thinks his family is cursed.”
“You have ideas,” John mutters.
“Maybe he sees something in you other people don't.”
“You see something in me I’m not even sure is there,” John answers.
Andy looks around real quick and then presses a kiss to John's temple. “People are stupid,” he says softly.
John can't argue with that.
~four~
Wayne is still not really a part of his life. He’s wandering the halls like a ghost or a man who lost his purpose. If John is right and he knows he is, Wayne did. Wayne is confined here. He did it himself, but this is still cellular imprisonment.
Alfred is the person who cares for John. Alfred is the one who makes meals and reminds him to do his homework and washes his clothes.
Alfred is the one who sits down for dinner with him, and sometimes Andy too, and listens to John's stories.
Alfred is the parent Wayne should be.
~+~
“So, when he dies, does John get all his money?” Andy asks at dinner. He's staying over again. Wayne has some kind of deal with the orphanage or whatever. John is pretty sure people do whatever Wayne wants them to do. He is just that kind of person. And he has the money to back it up. John's heard that Wayne once bought a hotel so his girlfriends could bath naked in the pool or fountain or something. John doesn't think Wayne is that kind of dick, but still, there must be something to that story.
“No” Alfred answers. He is amused by Andy. John is glad that Alfred and Andy get along so well. In John's opinion everyone ever should love Andy.
“Do you get all of his money?” Andy asks.
“Not all of it, but some, I guess. Why, do you want to kill him?”
“Only if John is going to inherit most of Mister Wayne's stuff.”
“And then?” Alfred asks.
“And then I will marry John, obviously.”
John nearly chokes on his chicken. “Gay marriage isn't legal in Gotham.”
“Gotham sucks that way, but it's on its way to clean up nicely. I still have hope for the gay marriage thing,” Andy answers with a smile. But he does look serious about it too. John gets it. Andy wants for all people to have the same rights. Every orphan wants that, because they don't have it.
“Don't I have a say in this?” John asks.
“You don't want me to have a good life?” Andy says slyly.
“Sure, but I don't think I am marriage material.”
“Well, not yet, but maybe when you grow a bit,” Andy teases.
~+~
John wakes from a nightmare about his dad again and turns around, takes a deep breath and decides that it's okay to get up.
It's still dark outside, but it's Saturday and Andy is still sleeping, so he's really quiet and stealthy about the whole thing.
He grabs his hoodie and a pair of socks on his way out of the room and makes his way down to the kitchen.
It's too early even for Alfred, because Alfred likes to sleep in on Saturdays. Seems Wayne isn't up early much. No wonder, John thinks, what with the hours he used to keep.
He makes tea and grabs a roll from last night and wanders over to the library. They have an entertainment room, but John doesn't use it often. It's only in use when Andy is sleeping over. John likes to read and Andy thinks he's weird for it, but he doesn't judge. They watch movies on the weekends when Andy's there. He usually has an arm long list of movies he wants to see and video-games he wants to play. It's fun. It's like what having a brother might've been.
“You're up early,” Wayne says from the chair in the corner.
“Did you even go to bed?” John asks.
“Yeah, didn't turn out that great.”
John smiles. He can't help it. Wayne has a weird kind of humour, but John gets it. Something inside John recognizes the darker parts of Wayne and relates to them.
“So, now you're stalking the shadows of the manor.”
“Could be a title for a mystery novel.”
“A bad one, sure,” John answers. He sits down in the empty chair and puts his mug on the table. He breaks the roll in two - it's cinnamon - and offers Wayne the other half.
Wayne looks at it for a few seconds before he takes it. “Thanks.”
“No big deal. You can have a sip of tea to go with it too.”
Wayne smiles. It's a small smile, but it looks real enough. John waits for Wayne to say something stupidly sappy, but he doesn't.
John exhales slowly, realising that he wouldn't have want to hear it anyway.
They eat in silence and read until Alfred comes down and with him Andy, looking sleep-warm and barely awake.
“I need coffee,” he says, yawning.
“You get tea,” Alfred answers firmly before he disappears in the kitchen.
Andy makes a grumpy face and John laughs, getting up to follow them. Wayne doesn't.
~+~
John notices that Wayne is rarely around when Andy is there to visit. John has no idea if he doesn't want to disturb or if it's something else.
On the other hand, Wayne is rarely around. Period. Sometimes he's gone for weeks. On business-trips. John wonders what kind of trips they are. Everyone knows that Mister Fox is running Wayne Enterprises for Wayne.
Maybe Wayne has to keep up appearances. Just because Batman disappeared, doesn't mean Wayne can. People aren't that stupid. Someday someone will put one and one together and it will add up to two.
~+~
“Did you get me something?” John asks.
Wayne gives him a look. He looks tired and worn out. He’s just came back from Shanghai. John would love to go one day. But Wayne never takes him on the business-trips. And the excuse is always the same: because you have school, John.
Wayne could easily take a trip to London or Berlin or Metropolis during vacations, but he doesn't.
“Like what?”
“I don't know? Something cool. Like a sword?”
“Isn't that a Japanese thing?”
“Are you going to Japan? Soon?”
Wayne laughs. He does that more often these days.
John doesn't remember the last time he thought they will send him back. It's been months already. Nearly a year and all the papers are signed. John is still John Blake, but he is also a part of the Wayne household. And that household is more like a family.
“No, and I don't think I can just get a sword-”
“Ha,” John interrupts. “You could take your own plane. You can get me a sword if you really want to.”
“Do you want me to?” Wayne asks.
John thinks about it. He has no clue what he would even do with a freaking sword. He shakes his head. “No.”
“I got you Chinese candy.”
“Cool,” John says, because it is cool. John loves candy and especially the exotic kind. “I liked the stuff you got me from Russia.”
“I’ll try to remember the next time I'm in Russia.”
~+~
The first time John gets really into trouble is a few days after his thirteenth birthday. He punches one of his upper classmates in the face. Alfred has to get him from the principal's office. All the while he waits; there are harsh conversations about his attitude and his bad behaviour. John doesn't regret punching stupid Matt in the face. There is still blood on his sleeve.
On the way home in the car he wonders if they'll kick him out, will they kick out Andy too? It would be a shame.
Alfred doesn't say a word, but he gives the principal a look and tells him Mister Wayne (all in capitals, John can hear it) will want a word.
~+~
John was right all these months ago. The library is the room for 'serious discussions about life'. He sits down and waits for Wayne to start his speech.
“So?” Wayne asks instead.
“I did not break this guy's nose,” John answers.
“But you wanted to, why?”
“Because he's a dick.”
“A lot of people are, but you don't see me walking around punching them in the face.”
John gives him a look, but bites his tongue. Batman sure as hell did. So Wayne has no room to talk. But John can't prove any of it, so he keeps quiet.
“Is this about Andy?” Wayne asks.
Isn't it always? People are dicks and Andy is different. John nods. “Yeah. People are assholes.”
“Can't argue that, but you have to be a better man.”
“I'm thirteen,” John says a bit petulantly.
“You are growing up fast. In a few years you will be surrounded by people who are dicks for a lot of reasons. You have to find a way to live with it. Or fight it in a less violent way.”
“What you're saying is that I shouldn't get caught-”
“That is not what I am trying to say,” Wayne interrupts, but John really doesn't believe him. He's broken a million rules as Batman and he did it because he knew it couldn't be traced back to him. Suddenly John feels stupid for letting his anger win.
“I'll do better next time.”
“Good. Wanna tell me why you punched him and didn't break his nose? I have to plead your case tomorrow.”
“He called Andy a fag-”
“And you?”
“What does it matter? I don't care what they call me, but Andy takes shit like that to heart.”
Wayne nods. “There is nothing wrong with liking bo-”
“Oh please, spare me,” John says. “I know where babies come from and I know that you can't choose your sexuality. Besides I don't even think Andy is gay. It just pisses me off when people go around saying stuff and trying to make someone miserable. You have to nip that shit in the bud.”
Wayne tries hard not to smile. John can see it. He likes when Wayne smiles.
“Can't say I will use those exact words, but bullying is not tolerated at your school, so I think you won't be expelled.”
John feels his shoulders loosen. He doesn't want to be kicked out of that school. He likes it there. Mostly.
“Okay.”
“Why did Matt Singer even start with this?”
John shrugs. “He probably saw us kiss,” he says and holds his breath. He doesn't think Wayne is a homophobic douchebag, but it's always easier to be tolerant and shit when it's not your own family.
Wayne nods. “Everything's going to be fine.”
“I know,” John answers. He knows Wayne will do his best. And his best is pretty fucking good.
~+~
John isn't kicked out, but neither is Matt Singer. They just try to stay clear of each other.
“Sorry, you got into trouble because of me,” Andy says the next day.
“Don't be stupid. You're the only person worth getting into trouble,” John dismisses.
“I don't do it because I'm in love with you,” Andy says, quietly.
John knows that. He puts an arm around Andy and lets him lean his head against his shoulder. “Don't sweat it.”
Andy laughs. It sounds a bit choked, but John doesn't pry.
Andy will tell him shit when he's ready to tell John shit.
~five~
John's fancy school has martial arts classes and also fencing. He needs a permission slip from his parents for the last. He thinks about forging the signature for a second before he dismisses it. Wayne would find out John is sure.
“So? Fencing?” Andy asks. Andy took art and pottery and creative writing or whatever.
John shrugs. He thinks he would be good at it. He could use an outlet for his anger too. “Yeah.”
“You think they will allow you near pointy, deadly objects?”
“People keep saying it's a pretty safe thing to do. It's an Olympic discipline.”
“I'm impressed you did your homework and all-”
“Oh shut the hell up,” John interrupts.
“Still, you think Wayne will sign that permission form?”
John nods, but he isn't sure. On the one hand: Wayne sure as hell learned some pretty sweet moves somewhere and can't throw the first stone here, on the other: he is John's guardian. People who care are funny sometimes. Still, John has a list as long as his arm why him taking fencing classes would be a good idea. He's going to state his case and is sure Wayne will see it his way.
“Wayne will,” John answers after a few seconds.
“Also, as we are talking about him now anyway. Don't you think you should maybe stop calling him 'Wayne'?” Andy asks.
John folds and unfolds the permission form for the seventh time and wonders where Alfred is. “What should I call him then?” John wants to know.
“No idea. By his first name maybe? You know, Bruce. It's been over a year and he hasn't kicked you out. So I guess he won't. And he still pays for my tuition.” Andy grabs the permission form and John turns to look at him. “You could call him 'daddy,' as he’s your sugar-daddy,” he grins.
John rolls his eyes. “He is more your sugar-daddy. I just live in his house. We don't even see each other that often. When I am there, he barely is. He's always away on business trips.”
“I know he gets you awesome candy.”
“He gets us awesome candy.”
Andy looks at him hard. “You are his ward. He adopted you. Everything he does is for you. To make you happy. Even paying my tuition fees.”
“He likes you.”
Andy sighs. “I know. That is not what I am trying to say. I just mean that he cares about you. Like he should.”
John is spared having to answer because Alfred finally shows up. They get into the car and Alfred starts to tell a story about how horrible the traffic was and then asks about school and if Master Andy is going to stay for dinner. Like that's a real question, John thinks.
~+~
“So, I want to learn it,” John say putting the permission slip on the small table in the library.
“You want to take up fencing?” Wayne asks.
Duh, John thinks. “Yeah. I think it would be good for me.”
“To learn how to kill people the fastest with a deadly weapon?”
“It's good for body control too, and for training a lot of your muscles and-”
“Ballet can do that for you without the pointy sharp object aimed at your heart,” Wayne interrupts.
“I don't think,” John says, “I'm the tutu type.”
Wayne smiles. “What is this about?”
John sighs. “I think it would help with the anger.”
Wayne looks at him hard, but doesn't say a thing for a while. John lets him think it over. There was some talk about a shrink a while back, pretty much at the beginning when John thought he wouldn't be staying anyway, but John had dismissed it. He still isn't going to tell a stranger all about how his father had been murdered in front of him. But the anger is still there, still eating at him, steadily. Surfacing only from time to time. John doesn't want to punch people in the face every time he is pissed off. That is not the kind of man he wants to grow up to be.
“Fine,” Wayne says after a while.
John looks up at him. “Fine?”
“Fine. I think it will be good for you. Sports form character and all that.”
“Isn't that said about team-sport kind of activities?”
“You want to play soccer now?” Wayne asks.
“No,” John says. He doesn't think he is a good team-player.
“Competition and failure will teach you about life too,” Wayne answers.
John nods, if someone knows a thing or two about failure then it's Batman.
~+~
The martial arts class is hell on his muscles, but John likes it a bit when it hurts, when he can feel he's done something. It also teaches him a freaking lot about inner-peace and how to fake it. No thirteen year old should know that, probably, but John is glad. When he projects calm, people around him feel less aggressive too.
He suspects his trainer knows, but maybe he thinks that faking it is a way to inner peace too. Maybe it's even true for people who aren't as messed up as John is.
part 2
Author: creepylicious/alles_luege
Pairing: Bruce/John (eventually), Bruce/OFC
Rating: PG-NC-17
Summary: In which John is adopted by Wayne, grows up in the manor and develops feelings for Bruce.
“Yeah. People are assholes.”
“Can't argue that, but you have to be a better man.”
“I'm thirteen,” John says a bit petulantly.
“You are growing up fast. In a few years you will be surrounded by people who are dicks for a lot of reasons. You have to find a way to live with it. Or fight it in a less violent way.”
“What you're saying is that I shouldn't get caught-”
“That is not what I am trying to say,” Wayne interrupts, but John really doesn't believe him. He's broken a million rules as Batman and he did it because he knew it couldn't be traced back to him. Suddenly John feels stupid for letting his anger win.
Warning(s): age difference, first time, canon violence, wip
Author’s Notes: Based on this prompt. Au-ish. Still kind of canon-based/compliant.
Word Count: 5.797(this part)
Beta: mockingj91
Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own, not real
PART I. (age 12-14)
~one~
John doesn't have much hope anymore that people; couples; possible parents will choose him. He is labelled the problem child already. He might be cute or whatever, but he’s angry all the time and he can't seem to manage to hide it.
He's been in three foster-families and to be honest he's had enough of this. They tried, some of them were even really good people, but John - John doesn't want to forget, doesn't want to leave it behind. What John wants is justice, but he knows he won't get that.
With being twelve he's too old to appeal to people anyway. He had his chances and blew them. Doesn't matter, in six years he'll be out of here and- well John has no idea. He'll cross that bridge when - and all that jazz.
~+~
To say John is surprised that someone is going to try it again with him is an understatement of the century. The fact that it's an older guy, well. He looks like money, so John is cautious. People with money aren't, in John's experience, good people. They think they can have whatever, whoever, because they can afford to pay for it. John isn't a thing to be sold.
“Master John,” the guy says with a look. “Is that all you want to take with you?”
John only packed the things he couldn't live without. Three pairs of socks and underwear, two shirts, one pair of jeans, the picture of his parents from a better time, a book of French fables and the drawing of Batman Andy made for his tenth birthday. Not that John said anything about his Batman crush to Andy. Andy just knows shit and he doesn't judge you for it. John will miss Andy.
“Yeah,” John answers.
The guy makes a complicated face, like he is sad or something. “Well, then we'll have to go shopping for all the other stuff you will need on Monday.”
To be honest John doesn't think he will still be with this guy on Monday. He keeps that to himself.
Mister Pennyworth seems like a good guy.
~+~
John can't really believe it. He knew Mister Pennyworth was money, but this. He takes a deep breath.
“Do you live here alone?” he asks. He's never seen a house so freaking big. It took them nearly ten minutes from the gate to the front of it.
“No, with Master Bruce,” Mister Pennyworth answers.
“He's like your-?” John looks at him and Pennyworth looks right back, a bit confused.
“Oh,” he says softly. “No, I work here. For Mister Bruce Wayne. I'm the butler.”
Hmm, John thinks. The Master John thing wasn't a slip then.
“Any idea why I'm here?” John asks, shouldering his backpack.
Mister Pennyworth is silent for a few seconds. “A few,” he says, but he doesn't sound happy or really convinced.
John's heard about Wayne. Everyone and their grandmother has. He's seen Wayne once too - outside of a magazine that is - and he is pretty sure what he saw no one else could see. People only see what they want to see, or Wayne is just that good at putting on his mask. Maybe John can learn a thing or two during his stay here. No matter how short.
~+~
He doesn't see Wayne for the rest of the day. He settles into his new room. Too freaking big and empty of anything that would make it a real, lived in room, but he is too afraid to pin the picture of Batman over the desk. The wallpaper looks really expensive.
When he's done unpacking - ha! - he goes down to the kitchen and gets lost twice in the process, to find Mister Pennyworth making dinner.
His stomach rumbles right on cue.
Mister Pennyworth smiles. “I made sandwiches and tea.”
“Great, thank you,” John answers, sitting down at the ancient looking table. “Is he busy? Does he know I'm here? Is he going to see me?” he asks between bites.
“Eventually. And yes, he does know you're here Master John.”
John makes a face. “Drop the Master. I’m not-”
Mister Pennyworth hesitates and then smiles. “John then.”
“Yeah,” John answers.
~+~
Wayne doesn't come down for dinner, so John doesn't see him. He goes to bed early and tries not to think what he is even doing here. What Wayne would want with a kid like him. Wayne just doesn't seem like the type who adopts poor angry orphans. On the other hand: what the hell does John know?
He'll find out soon enough.
~two~
On Monday Mister Pennyworth takes John into the city (the good part, the freaking expensive part where John feels like he doesn't belong) to get some clothes and other necessary stuff, which also seems to include a laptop. Not that John doesn't want one, but he wonders if he has to give it back when they send him to the orphanage, because it doesn't work out.
“We need to get you measured for the school uniform, too,” Mister Pennyworth says.
John stops in the middle of the pavement. “What?”
“School? You are only twelve after all. I can't be home-schooling you and your old school sure doesn't challenge you enough.”
John wonders how Mister Pennyworth knows that, but then he probably got all of John's school-records.
What about the other boys? John wants to ask. Who is going to protect Andy from bullies when John isn't there?
John crosses his arms over his chest. “I don't want to change schools.” He is not going to budge on this one.
Mister Pennyworth seems to see it too. “Fine. We leave it out today and get you new shoes instead, but you'll have to take this up to Master Wayne.”
John wonders if he'll have to call Wayne 'Master' too. No way in hell.
“Okay.”
“Are you hungry? I am starving,” Mister Pennyworth says and John nods. He is hungry; who knew shopping for t-shirts could be so exhausting? John's never done it before. If he did with his real parents he can't remember and later the foster-parents did the shopping and John was wearing what they wanted him to. Tried to be what they wanted, but it didn't work.
Mister Pennyworth doesn't try to throw stuff at him. He waits patiently while John looks around and decides. John is who he is with Mister Pennyworth and Mister Pennyworth doesn't seem to mind. John suspects he has years of experience with dealing with angry orphans. Well, one orphan. But even one can be too much on some days.
~+~
John isn't afraid. He has no idea what to expect, because this whole thing came out of the blue. One day he's in the orphanage, and the other Mister Pennyworth takes him away, so, really John has no idea why he's here, but he'll make the best of it.
He enters the library after dinner - with Mister Wayne absent again - and looks around.
“John,” Mister Wayne says from a dark corner. John can barely make him out in the shadows.
“Wayne,” John answers, because no way is he going with Master or dad, or what-the-heck-ever. He's on shaky ground here. And Wayne knows it.
“Take a seat,” Wayne says. It doesn't sound like a question.
John takes a seat and waits. “I hear you gave Alfred a hard time?”
John balls his hands to fists. He did not. “And what if?”
Wayne doesn't say anything for a few, endless, seconds. “He doesn't deserve that. He’s a good person.”
John knows that. “I did not give him a hard time. I just don't want to change schools.”
“But your school bores you to death. You are too smart to be there.”
John huffs. He knows that too. “That is not the point.”
Wayne leans over and he looks pale and kind of sickly, John thinks. Nothing like the guy he saw that one time at the orphanage. He looks…broken, John thinks.
“What is the point then? Of you throwing away your future?”
John wants to snap at Wayne, he doesn't. He keeps his anger under wraps. But just barely. He takes a deep breath. He doesn't want to tell Wayne. He didn't want to tell Mister Pennyworth either. Even if he thinks Mister Pennyworth would understand.
“I can still do alright if I go to a public school.”
“You could do better with a private school and I can afford to send you there.”
“And what do you want in return?” John asks, just because he feels violent and like he needs to be nasty and lash out.
“Nothing,” Wayne says.
And that right there? That is bullshit if John's ever heard any. Everyone wants something. “Right,” he answers.
“If you don't want to tell me, fine. Don't. But if you don't have a better reason than 'I don't want to change schools' you are going to the private school as soon as things can be arranged. And they can be arranged really fast for me.”
John bites his lip, mulling this over. He doesn't think Wayne is bluffing. “Go to bed, you need to be measured tomorrow for your new uniform,” Wayne dismisses.
Fuck, John thinks.
~+~
John doesn't hate the new uniform, and he doesn't hate going out shopping with Mister Pennyworth again. He likes his new room. He still isn't sure he will be able to stay, but chances are good, if Wayne is already going all authoritative on his ass. The thing is that Wayne's argumentation makes sense to John. Wayne doesn't do this to be mean or to demonstrate he has the power. John really believes he tries to do something good.
But the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
~+~
Mister Pennyworth makes pancakes and John watches, playing with the fork.
“So, why are you so set on not changing schools?”
“Will you tell Wayne?” John asks.
“Probably,” Mister Pennyworth answers.
John wants to tell someone about Andy. And Wayne and Mister Pennyworth are the only two people living here besides him. He saw a photo of a pretty woman with dark hair, but so far he hasn’t seen her around.
“When I'm not around, Andy is bullied at school,” John says.
“Ah, I understand,” Mister Pennyworth answers. His eyes are smiling gently. He puts a pancake on John's plate and takes out three bottles of syrup out of a cupboard.
John takes the red one and hopes it’s raspberry. He opens it, smells it first before he pours it on his pancake. “Don't you think he will learn to take care of himself?”
“He’s interested in art,” John answers, because this should tell Mister Pennyworth everything.
“And why didn't you tell this Master Bruce?”
John shrugs. He has no idea. He just doesn't want to tell people his secrets. He doesn't want to talk about things that are important to him - or people. Mister Pennyworth is different. John has the feeling Mister Pennyworth just gets things.
“Do you want to go to the new school?” Mister Pennyworth asks.
John does. God, does he ever want to go to that fancy private school. He's read the brochure and it sounds like the place to be if you are a twelve year old rich kid and smart. “Yeah,” John says and hates himself a bit for it.
Mister Pennyworth nods and sits down to eat his own pancakes.
John wonders what will happen next.
~+~
What happens next is that he finds himself in the library again that evening. He suspects this is the place that is reserved for 'serious discussions about life'.
“John,” Wayne says.
“Wayne,” John answers. The lamps are on, so he can see Wayne way better than the last time. He still looks too thin and haunted. John sits down in the comfortable chair. “You talked to Mister Pennyworth.” It's not a question.
Wayne's lips do something complicated that could be called a smile one day.
“I did. So, you want to look out for your friend.”
“Andy,” John throws in. People tend to dismiss names of kids they don't know. They don't care about, but if you give them a picture, a name, a back-story, it's harder to just dismiss them.
“Andy,” Wayne answers. “You're afraid he's not strong enough to make it on his own through school.”
“He is strong, but he doesn't have to be beat up to prove that one day. Bruises don't form character.” John believes that too. You can be a good person without having been abused.
Wayne leans back in his chair and looks at John, like he's searching for something, or like he just found it. “Fine. I'll pay for his tuition too.”
“What?” Because John's seen what a year there costs. A fuckload of money.
“I'll tell Alfred to arrange everything with the schools and the orphanage.”
“I-” he stops, takes a deep breath. He wants to ask why, but he doesn't. Andy deserves to go to a good school and not be bullied. He deserves it more than him, John thinks. “Thanks,” he gets out.
“You are welcome, John.”
~+~
So, that's how he finds himself attending a freaking fancy school with Andy at his side. He has the stupid urge to grab Andy's hand for reassurance. Andy links their pinkies together in the car on their way to the school and John feels like he can breathe again.
He is still John Blake. But no one knows anything about him here. He and Andy are just two new boys.
“Thank you,” Andy whispers.
John nods. He has no idea what to say. This isn't his doing. Wayne offered and John, well, maybe he'll have to pay for it, maybe he won't.
“You deserve this,” John says eventually.
“You do too,” Andy answers, because he is just that freakishly good at reading John.
~three~
John doesn't want to, but he's settling into a routine at the manor and at school. He spends most of his evenings with Mister Pennyworth, who somewhere along the way became Alfred.
They're usually in the kitchen, baking, playing cards or talking. Alfred likes to listen to John's stories from school. John suspects that Alfred misses this; having a kid at home.
“Has Wayne got a girlfriend?” John asks, taking a sip of tea.
“No,” Alfred answers, he looks sad as he says it.
“But there is this picture of a pretty woman in the living room.”
“Rachel,” Wayne says from the door. John didn't even hear him in the hall. Wayne is a fucking ninja. He could be John reasons. Batman had to have learned the moves somewhere.
“Master Bruce,” Alfred throws in. He gets up and prepares a mug of tea for Wayne like he thinks Wayne will stay with them in the kitchen.
“Rachel,” John says. “So, why isn't she your girlfriend?”
“Because she's dead,” Wayne answers.
Oh, John thinks. Well, that would explain a thing or two.
Wayne steps into the kitchen and sits down at the table taking the mug from Alfred. Seems Alfred knows Wayne pretty fucking well after all. John wants to ask a million questions, but he doesn't think he has the right. He takes a sip of tea instead. Suddenly the kitchen lost its appeal. And its warmth.
Wayne is a gloomy guy. He didn't use to be that way. Maybe Wayne just doesn't bother with the mask in his own home. John wouldn't either.
“How long?” John asks.
“What?”
“Master John!” Alfred warns. Alfred still sometimes slips, or maybe he is using 'Master John' to scold. Could be a real possibility, John thinks. He'll have to test that theory someday, soon.
“How long is she dead?” John clarifies, ignoring Alfred.
“A few months,” Wayne answers.
Which is super vague, John thinks. People like to use a 'few months' as an excuse. It could be three to nine. Or longer. “This is the reason why you're wandering the manor like a lost soul?”
Wayne laughs and it sounds startled out of him. “That bad?”
“Dude,” John says. The 'duh' is totally implied.
“Maybe,” Wayne answers, taking a sip of his tea. Alfred looks at John and then at Wayne, there is something tender and warm in his eyes. Alfred gets them, John thinks and still isn't sure it's a good thing.
John is used to keeping shit to himself. Well, mostly. Andy knows stuff, but not because John tells him.
John lets it be. It's none of his business.
~+~
John does some research on that Rachel woman and what he comes up with isn't pretty. Of course John knows about the Joker, he was the talk last year. The terror was mostly kept at bay at the orphanage, but they weren't completely sheltered. John is pretty sure Wayne is Batman, was Batman (and John never believed the shit they tell about Batman now), so this would be able to break him. She seemed to be the love of his life. She probably knew too.
John closes the laptop and stares at the picture of Batman Andy drew him. Will he come back, he wonders.
Does the city still need him with all the new laws in place? John would say, hell yes. There is still a lot of crazy shit happening, John is sure of it.
~+~
“So?” Andy asks. They're sitting outside soaking up the sun.
“So what?” John asks back, not looking at him. He knows what Andy wants to know, but he has no idea how to answer it without lying.
Andy sighs. “So, how is it being Wayne's son?”
“I am not his son.”
Andy punches him in the arm, but it doesn't hurt, because Andy never really learned how to punch someone and he doesn't want to either. It was always John who did the punching around Andy.
“What are you then?”
“No idea. His ward?”
“But why?” Andy asks and John knows exactly what he means.
“No idea. There are better boys at the orphanage, there’s you.”
Andy punches him again. “That is not what I mean and you know it. I mean, why does he want to have a kid around? A kid that isn't his. I mean he can have kids, right?”
“I didn't ask!”
Andy laughs. “Maybe he thinks his family is cursed.”
“You have ideas,” John mutters.
“Maybe he sees something in you other people don't.”
“You see something in me I’m not even sure is there,” John answers.
Andy looks around real quick and then presses a kiss to John's temple. “People are stupid,” he says softly.
John can't argue with that.
~four~
Wayne is still not really a part of his life. He’s wandering the halls like a ghost or a man who lost his purpose. If John is right and he knows he is, Wayne did. Wayne is confined here. He did it himself, but this is still cellular imprisonment.
Alfred is the person who cares for John. Alfred is the one who makes meals and reminds him to do his homework and washes his clothes.
Alfred is the one who sits down for dinner with him, and sometimes Andy too, and listens to John's stories.
Alfred is the parent Wayne should be.
~+~
“So, when he dies, does John get all his money?” Andy asks at dinner. He's staying over again. Wayne has some kind of deal with the orphanage or whatever. John is pretty sure people do whatever Wayne wants them to do. He is just that kind of person. And he has the money to back it up. John's heard that Wayne once bought a hotel so his girlfriends could bath naked in the pool or fountain or something. John doesn't think Wayne is that kind of dick, but still, there must be something to that story.
“No” Alfred answers. He is amused by Andy. John is glad that Alfred and Andy get along so well. In John's opinion everyone ever should love Andy.
“Do you get all of his money?” Andy asks.
“Not all of it, but some, I guess. Why, do you want to kill him?”
“Only if John is going to inherit most of Mister Wayne's stuff.”
“And then?” Alfred asks.
“And then I will marry John, obviously.”
John nearly chokes on his chicken. “Gay marriage isn't legal in Gotham.”
“Gotham sucks that way, but it's on its way to clean up nicely. I still have hope for the gay marriage thing,” Andy answers with a smile. But he does look serious about it too. John gets it. Andy wants for all people to have the same rights. Every orphan wants that, because they don't have it.
“Don't I have a say in this?” John asks.
“You don't want me to have a good life?” Andy says slyly.
“Sure, but I don't think I am marriage material.”
“Well, not yet, but maybe when you grow a bit,” Andy teases.
~+~
John wakes from a nightmare about his dad again and turns around, takes a deep breath and decides that it's okay to get up.
It's still dark outside, but it's Saturday and Andy is still sleeping, so he's really quiet and stealthy about the whole thing.
He grabs his hoodie and a pair of socks on his way out of the room and makes his way down to the kitchen.
It's too early even for Alfred, because Alfred likes to sleep in on Saturdays. Seems Wayne isn't up early much. No wonder, John thinks, what with the hours he used to keep.
He makes tea and grabs a roll from last night and wanders over to the library. They have an entertainment room, but John doesn't use it often. It's only in use when Andy is sleeping over. John likes to read and Andy thinks he's weird for it, but he doesn't judge. They watch movies on the weekends when Andy's there. He usually has an arm long list of movies he wants to see and video-games he wants to play. It's fun. It's like what having a brother might've been.
“You're up early,” Wayne says from the chair in the corner.
“Did you even go to bed?” John asks.
“Yeah, didn't turn out that great.”
John smiles. He can't help it. Wayne has a weird kind of humour, but John gets it. Something inside John recognizes the darker parts of Wayne and relates to them.
“So, now you're stalking the shadows of the manor.”
“Could be a title for a mystery novel.”
“A bad one, sure,” John answers. He sits down in the empty chair and puts his mug on the table. He breaks the roll in two - it's cinnamon - and offers Wayne the other half.
Wayne looks at it for a few seconds before he takes it. “Thanks.”
“No big deal. You can have a sip of tea to go with it too.”
Wayne smiles. It's a small smile, but it looks real enough. John waits for Wayne to say something stupidly sappy, but he doesn't.
John exhales slowly, realising that he wouldn't have want to hear it anyway.
They eat in silence and read until Alfred comes down and with him Andy, looking sleep-warm and barely awake.
“I need coffee,” he says, yawning.
“You get tea,” Alfred answers firmly before he disappears in the kitchen.
Andy makes a grumpy face and John laughs, getting up to follow them. Wayne doesn't.
~+~
John notices that Wayne is rarely around when Andy is there to visit. John has no idea if he doesn't want to disturb or if it's something else.
On the other hand, Wayne is rarely around. Period. Sometimes he's gone for weeks. On business-trips. John wonders what kind of trips they are. Everyone knows that Mister Fox is running Wayne Enterprises for Wayne.
Maybe Wayne has to keep up appearances. Just because Batman disappeared, doesn't mean Wayne can. People aren't that stupid. Someday someone will put one and one together and it will add up to two.
~+~
“Did you get me something?” John asks.
Wayne gives him a look. He looks tired and worn out. He’s just came back from Shanghai. John would love to go one day. But Wayne never takes him on the business-trips. And the excuse is always the same: because you have school, John.
Wayne could easily take a trip to London or Berlin or Metropolis during vacations, but he doesn't.
“Like what?”
“I don't know? Something cool. Like a sword?”
“Isn't that a Japanese thing?”
“Are you going to Japan? Soon?”
Wayne laughs. He does that more often these days.
John doesn't remember the last time he thought they will send him back. It's been months already. Nearly a year and all the papers are signed. John is still John Blake, but he is also a part of the Wayne household. And that household is more like a family.
“No, and I don't think I can just get a sword-”
“Ha,” John interrupts. “You could take your own plane. You can get me a sword if you really want to.”
“Do you want me to?” Wayne asks.
John thinks about it. He has no clue what he would even do with a freaking sword. He shakes his head. “No.”
“I got you Chinese candy.”
“Cool,” John says, because it is cool. John loves candy and especially the exotic kind. “I liked the stuff you got me from Russia.”
“I’ll try to remember the next time I'm in Russia.”
~+~
The first time John gets really into trouble is a few days after his thirteenth birthday. He punches one of his upper classmates in the face. Alfred has to get him from the principal's office. All the while he waits; there are harsh conversations about his attitude and his bad behaviour. John doesn't regret punching stupid Matt in the face. There is still blood on his sleeve.
On the way home in the car he wonders if they'll kick him out, will they kick out Andy too? It would be a shame.
Alfred doesn't say a word, but he gives the principal a look and tells him Mister Wayne (all in capitals, John can hear it) will want a word.
~+~
John was right all these months ago. The library is the room for 'serious discussions about life'. He sits down and waits for Wayne to start his speech.
“So?” Wayne asks instead.
“I did not break this guy's nose,” John answers.
“But you wanted to, why?”
“Because he's a dick.”
“A lot of people are, but you don't see me walking around punching them in the face.”
John gives him a look, but bites his tongue. Batman sure as hell did. So Wayne has no room to talk. But John can't prove any of it, so he keeps quiet.
“Is this about Andy?” Wayne asks.
Isn't it always? People are dicks and Andy is different. John nods. “Yeah. People are assholes.”
“Can't argue that, but you have to be a better man.”
“I'm thirteen,” John says a bit petulantly.
“You are growing up fast. In a few years you will be surrounded by people who are dicks for a lot of reasons. You have to find a way to live with it. Or fight it in a less violent way.”
“What you're saying is that I shouldn't get caught-”
“That is not what I am trying to say,” Wayne interrupts, but John really doesn't believe him. He's broken a million rules as Batman and he did it because he knew it couldn't be traced back to him. Suddenly John feels stupid for letting his anger win.
“I'll do better next time.”
“Good. Wanna tell me why you punched him and didn't break his nose? I have to plead your case tomorrow.”
“He called Andy a fag-”
“And you?”
“What does it matter? I don't care what they call me, but Andy takes shit like that to heart.”
Wayne nods. “There is nothing wrong with liking bo-”
“Oh please, spare me,” John says. “I know where babies come from and I know that you can't choose your sexuality. Besides I don't even think Andy is gay. It just pisses me off when people go around saying stuff and trying to make someone miserable. You have to nip that shit in the bud.”
Wayne tries hard not to smile. John can see it. He likes when Wayne smiles.
“Can't say I will use those exact words, but bullying is not tolerated at your school, so I think you won't be expelled.”
John feels his shoulders loosen. He doesn't want to be kicked out of that school. He likes it there. Mostly.
“Okay.”
“Why did Matt Singer even start with this?”
John shrugs. “He probably saw us kiss,” he says and holds his breath. He doesn't think Wayne is a homophobic douchebag, but it's always easier to be tolerant and shit when it's not your own family.
Wayne nods. “Everything's going to be fine.”
“I know,” John answers. He knows Wayne will do his best. And his best is pretty fucking good.
~+~
John isn't kicked out, but neither is Matt Singer. They just try to stay clear of each other.
“Sorry, you got into trouble because of me,” Andy says the next day.
“Don't be stupid. You're the only person worth getting into trouble,” John dismisses.
“I don't do it because I'm in love with you,” Andy says, quietly.
John knows that. He puts an arm around Andy and lets him lean his head against his shoulder. “Don't sweat it.”
Andy laughs. It sounds a bit choked, but John doesn't pry.
Andy will tell him shit when he's ready to tell John shit.
~five~
John's fancy school has martial arts classes and also fencing. He needs a permission slip from his parents for the last. He thinks about forging the signature for a second before he dismisses it. Wayne would find out John is sure.
“So? Fencing?” Andy asks. Andy took art and pottery and creative writing or whatever.
John shrugs. He thinks he would be good at it. He could use an outlet for his anger too. “Yeah.”
“You think they will allow you near pointy, deadly objects?”
“People keep saying it's a pretty safe thing to do. It's an Olympic discipline.”
“I'm impressed you did your homework and all-”
“Oh shut the hell up,” John interrupts.
“Still, you think Wayne will sign that permission form?”
John nods, but he isn't sure. On the one hand: Wayne sure as hell learned some pretty sweet moves somewhere and can't throw the first stone here, on the other: he is John's guardian. People who care are funny sometimes. Still, John has a list as long as his arm why him taking fencing classes would be a good idea. He's going to state his case and is sure Wayne will see it his way.
“Wayne will,” John answers after a few seconds.
“Also, as we are talking about him now anyway. Don't you think you should maybe stop calling him 'Wayne'?” Andy asks.
John folds and unfolds the permission form for the seventh time and wonders where Alfred is. “What should I call him then?” John wants to know.
“No idea. By his first name maybe? You know, Bruce. It's been over a year and he hasn't kicked you out. So I guess he won't. And he still pays for my tuition.” Andy grabs the permission form and John turns to look at him. “You could call him 'daddy,' as he’s your sugar-daddy,” he grins.
John rolls his eyes. “He is more your sugar-daddy. I just live in his house. We don't even see each other that often. When I am there, he barely is. He's always away on business trips.”
“I know he gets you awesome candy.”
“He gets us awesome candy.”
Andy looks at him hard. “You are his ward. He adopted you. Everything he does is for you. To make you happy. Even paying my tuition fees.”
“He likes you.”
Andy sighs. “I know. That is not what I am trying to say. I just mean that he cares about you. Like he should.”
John is spared having to answer because Alfred finally shows up. They get into the car and Alfred starts to tell a story about how horrible the traffic was and then asks about school and if Master Andy is going to stay for dinner. Like that's a real question, John thinks.
~+~
“So, I want to learn it,” John say putting the permission slip on the small table in the library.
“You want to take up fencing?” Wayne asks.
Duh, John thinks. “Yeah. I think it would be good for me.”
“To learn how to kill people the fastest with a deadly weapon?”
“It's good for body control too, and for training a lot of your muscles and-”
“Ballet can do that for you without the pointy sharp object aimed at your heart,” Wayne interrupts.
“I don't think,” John says, “I'm the tutu type.”
Wayne smiles. “What is this about?”
John sighs. “I think it would help with the anger.”
Wayne looks at him hard, but doesn't say a thing for a while. John lets him think it over. There was some talk about a shrink a while back, pretty much at the beginning when John thought he wouldn't be staying anyway, but John had dismissed it. He still isn't going to tell a stranger all about how his father had been murdered in front of him. But the anger is still there, still eating at him, steadily. Surfacing only from time to time. John doesn't want to punch people in the face every time he is pissed off. That is not the kind of man he wants to grow up to be.
“Fine,” Wayne says after a while.
John looks up at him. “Fine?”
“Fine. I think it will be good for you. Sports form character and all that.”
“Isn't that said about team-sport kind of activities?”
“You want to play soccer now?” Wayne asks.
“No,” John says. He doesn't think he is a good team-player.
“Competition and failure will teach you about life too,” Wayne answers.
John nods, if someone knows a thing or two about failure then it's Batman.
~+~
The martial arts class is hell on his muscles, but John likes it a bit when it hurts, when he can feel he's done something. It also teaches him a freaking lot about inner-peace and how to fake it. No thirteen year old should know that, probably, but John is glad. When he projects calm, people around him feel less aggressive too.
He suspects his trainer knows, but maybe he thinks that faking it is a way to inner peace too. Maybe it's even true for people who aren't as messed up as John is.
part 2