Title: Georgian Nights
Universe: Heavy Nolan with influences by others
Characters: Dr. Jonathan Crane, Bruce Wayne, Jeremiah Crane (Kid from the Narrows), Dick Greyson, Original Female Character, Original Male Character
Pairing: Jonathan/Bruce
Rating: NC-17 (full story)
Warnings: Graphic medical procidure, Romance, sex, snark, mentions/descriptions of psycological disorders, graphic depictions of animal testing.
Word Count: 18,947 (as of curent chapter)
Summary: Three years after the events of The Dark Knight and Bruce finds Dr. Jonathan Crane somewhere he least expected...Georgia.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter I,
Chapter II,
Chapter III,
Chapter IV,
Chapter V,
Chapter VI,
Chapter VII,
Chapter VIII,
Chapter IX.
Chapter Ten: Family Matters
"It snowed last year too: I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea." -Dylan Thomas
It was odd, Jonathan thought as he grabbed his jeans and tip-toed out of Bruce's room, intending to get a shower before Jeremiah's nightmares woke him, for his body to be getting this much sex (not that Scarecrow and Bruce had actually had sex yet) and for him not to enjoy a single moment of it.
Ever since the shared blowjob two weeks ago, Scarecrow had been keeping a tighter hold on how much Jonathan was allowed to participate in his own life, and it was starting to chafe. It was after all, his life, and while he enjoyed Scarecrow's concern and protection, he would in fact, like to live it.
Sighing, he pulled on his jeans as Jeremiah's screams started, dismissing the idea of actually getting that shower, hurrying across the hall to his son's room and climbing into the small bed, pulling Jeremiah close, whispering gentle words as he tried to sooth the boy's fears.
He had only been in there a moment when the bedroom door opened again and a zombie appeared, dragging itself across the room and managing to fold it's smaller body by Jeremiah's feet, curling around them, holding his legs like a teddy bear.
Jonathan watched, amused as Richard gently stroked Jeremiah's thighs in comfort, and Jonathan leaned back, releasing his son as Jeremiah shifted, scooting down the bed so he could curl around Richard, the two boys holding each other in their sleep.
Jonathan reached down, running his fingers through Richard's hair as the boy used his legs as a pillow, smiling softly. He wished he could give himself so easily to his relationship with Bruce as the two almost brothers had, easily putting the past and present behind them as they simply enjoyed being with each other.
Then again, he wasn't eleven and the biggest obstacle between them wasn't wither or not his boyfriend was going to kill him.
As Jeremiah settled against his almost brother, Jonathan slipped his legs out from under Richard, replacing them with an actual pillow before giving both boy a kiss on the cheek, tossing a light blanket over their bodies before slipping from the room, yawning as he headed downstairs.
He ended up almost running smack into Sarah, who was heading upstairs to wake him and grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Come on, we need to talk," he said, steering her to the back porch, accepting the plate of breakfast she had been carrying to him.
-
"So, let me get this straight," Sarah said, curled up on the porch lounge with Jonathan, leaning against him. As she sipped her coffee. "You're other half, whom by the way is not a multiple personality, I didn't actually sleep through psych 101, is keeping you from dating Bruce, whom you are attracted to and interested in, because he's trying to protect you?"
"When you put it that way, it sounds more insane then it is, but yes," Jonathan said, keeping an arm around her waist as they sat together, thumb gently rubbing circles across her stomach. "Thought I don't really see how it protects me," he added.
"Because it keeps you from being hurt, but...Jonathan, have you ever thought it might not be for you that he's doing that?"
"What, so he can get more sex out of the deal?"
Sarah swatted at him before sighing. "How much do you remember when he takes control?" she asked softly, placing her hand over Jonathan's, entwining their fingers.
"Some...it depends on how far down I'm pushed under him...sometimes I don't remember anything but blurs, why?"
"Do you remember what happened when you had you're little freak out?" She asked softly, looking down at him.
"Not really, I remember talking with you about Marcus' leg, we got into a fight over something...and then, nothing, why?"
Sarah sighed, leaning back against Jonathan. "We got into a fight over your toxin, idiot. You told me about the 'mace' concept,"
"Oh yeah...I still think that it's a viable business venture," he said with a huff. "But, go on."
"Well after your idiot half decided to insult me and try to break my wrist, he went off on a tirade about how you only needed him and about how you belonged to him," She said, looking behind her into Jonathan's face. "I don't think he's protecting you so much as trying to keep you to himself,"
"How the hell would that even work?" Jonathan asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "He is a figment after all,"
"Don't ask me, I'm not the one renting out head space to a mental patient," Sarah said with a shrug, laying back and stretching out on the lounge with Jonathan, noticing that it seemed to have shrunk since they were in their twenties.
Either that or the pair had gotten larger, but that was impossible.
Jonathan tightened the hold he had around her waist, both to keep her close and to keep her from falling off the edge. "My other half has no reason to be possessive anyway, it's not like I can get rid of him," he said, burring his nose in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo.
"No, but you can bury him under so many layers of medication his shouts wouldn't even be a whisper," she pointed out. She started giggling, squeezing his fingers. "Honestly, Jonathan, only you could be so narcissistic as to fall in love with yourself,"
Jonathan made an affronted noise before releasing her hand, promptly tickling her sides. Sarah screamed with laughter, struggling to get away from his fingers, half hanging off the lounge.
"Hey, stop molesting my wife," a voice called and the pair froze, looking over the railing to Marcus.
"Hey honey," Sarah called, face red from the blood rushing to it as she dangled upside down. "What's up?"
"Making sure he's not stealing you away again," Marcus said cheerfully, too used to the pair's behavior to be bothered, he had grown up with them after all. "A little help?"
Jonathan nodded, pulling Sarah back onto the lounge before crawling over her, helping Marcus and his wheelchair up the steps, wheeling him close to the lounge before crawling over his best friend again, intentionally elbowing her as he did, smirking.
"You will pay for that," Sarah muttered, rubbing her side, before promptly beating Jonathan with a pillow, much to her husband's laughter.
-
Jeremiah cursed as the sewing machine needle snapped off again, metal flying across the room. He retracted the foot, pulling the broken needle free of the machine and tossing it aside before digging a fresh one out of his sewing supplies, re-adjusting the Lycra and Kevlar over the thick padding, trying to line them up so that the pants didn't end up with lumps in odd places as he attached the layers together.
As the final stitches fell into place, Jeremiah almost ruined two months worth of work as he pulled the pants free, slicing the strings before holding the cloth up, examining the black bodysuit, eying it for flaws before dashing over to the manikin in the closet, dressing it in the skintight outfit.
Pulling the bright red tunic from it's hanger, he added it to the manikin, followed by the black cloak over it, grinning. "It's perfect,"
"What is?"
Jeremiah screamed, slamming his closet door behind him, clutching at his chest for a moment before peeking out, looking at Richard who was staring at him with a raised eyebrow. "Uh...nothing,"
"Didn't seem like nothing," Richard said, standing on his tip toes, trying to see over Jeremiah's head, only getting a glimpse of something black and red behind the other boy.
"You're going to take it the wrong way," Jeremiah muttered. "It's really nothing, I was just goofing off..."
"Jeremiah..." Richard said before giving up trying to convince the other teen and simply picking him up, carrying Jeremiah over to the bed and dropping him before turning and finally getting a good look into the closet.
"That's..."
"I told you, it's nothing, just a hobby.." Jeremiah started, ready to jump up and slam the closet door shut.
"You design Robin costumes in your spare time?" Richard muttered, reaching out and tracing the symbol on the left side of the tunic before dragging the manikin out of the closet to fully examine it, making a face at the cloak, but otherwise showing no expression about the outfit.
"I design a lot of costumes in my spare time," Jeremiah muttered, chewing on his fingernails, watching Richard. "And anything is better then that traffic light get-up you run around in," he muttered.
Richard paused in his examination, looking at Jeremiah over the manikin. "Does it fit?"
Jeremiah blinked, before nodding. "It's your size, judging by your clothes, though the padding and armor might make it a bit tight,"
"You designed me a new uniform, in my size, with armor and never intended to show it to me?" Richard said, confused, dismantling the costume, tossing the pieces on the bed before pulling his tank top over his head.
"I told you, it's a hobby," Jeremiah muttered, helping Richard by actually unzipping and unbuttoning the pieces, handing Richard the compression shorts he had also designed specifically for Richard's talents.
"Oo-kay, you're a bit too thorough," Richard muttered, sliding on the shorts, adjusting himself as he did so nothing important to him got squashed. "Not even Bruce went that far,"
Jeremiah rolled his eyes, kneeling in front of Richard to adjust the short's hip pads, using a piece of tailor's chalk to mark the sides where he needed to adjust a seam that went weird. "It makes no sense to make the body suit and not pay attention to what's going on under it," he said before grabbing said bodysuit off the bed, helping Richard get his feet into the tight fabric.
"True, still weird," Richard said, wiggling his body into the suit, wishing he had thought to grab some powder before trying to get the outfit on. "Wait, grab my knee,"
Jeremiah grabbed the knee part of the material, helping yank it up Richard's calves before standing, hands skimming Richard's thighs, pulling the fabric up as he moved. "How the hell do you get these on in a rush?" he muttered, moving around Richard's back, holding the back of the suit as Richard jumped to get the legs fully on.
"I usually have baby powder or something to help it glide," Richard muttered, yelping as the suit pinched wrong. "Ow, crotch, needs loosening," he muttered, pulling to give himself some more room before getting his arms in the sleeves, allowing Jeremiah to adjust how it fit across his stomach and chest, the stick of chalk flashing as Jeremiah made notations on the fabric that only made sense to the boy.
"Here," Jeremiah said, handing Richard the robin red tunic, turning to dig through his sewing desk for something allowing Richard to pull on the thick cotton and Kevlar shirt himself. He turned back, grinning as he held out the leather boots and gauntlets.
"Please tell me you didn't make the shoes," Richard muttered, sitting on the bed and grabbing the boots, pulling them on, wiggling his bare toes against the soft inner lining before strapping on the gauntlets.
"Nope, I'm not that good yet," Jeremiah said before helping Richard stand in the boots, moving around the other teen as he examined the outfit. He grabbed the cloak off of the bed, moving Richard towards the mirror before swinging the fabric around Richard's shoulders.
"I hate capes," Richard muttered, already anticipating the pull at his throat.
"It's a cloak, not a cape," Jeremiah said, and started hooking the cloak, smiling as he smoothed it over Richard's shoulders. "Capes are too dangerous, you could choke," he slid a finger between Richard's throat and the cloak, giving a slight tug. "This is designed to break open if you get caught,"
"There's a plus," Richard muttered before finally looking at his appearance, turning a bit to the sides to get a fully view. "This..."
Jeremiah was biting his nails again, watching Richard, nervous about the other boy's reaction now that he was fully dressed (well, mostly, there was still the mask hiding in Richard's desk).
"Can I keep it?" Richard asked softly, blue eyes meeting Jeremiah's, an almost pleading look in them.
Jeremiah froze for a moment before nodding so fast Richard was surprised the boy didn't give himself a concision. "I would be honored...er, you are going to wear it, right?"
"If I can convince dad," Richard muttered, frowning as he realized how big of a problem that would be, seeing as how Bruce didn't do well with change.
"Don't tell him," Jeremiah said with a shrug. "Wear it sometime when you appear after him and surprise him,"
"He doesn't like surprises," Richard muttered, a bit of a grin curling his lips.
Jeremiah laughed, reaching into his desk to pull out the new mask, offering it to Richard. "You wouldn't be doing your job as a son if you didn't shake him up," he said, standing next to Richard as he held up the mask to Richard's face.
"Maybe I can convince him the teenage street walker look only worked when I was nine," Richard said, accepting the mask.
"That or the fact you made the world's largest target? You really, really looked like a giant neon sign,"
Richard laughed, wrapping an arm around Jeremiah's waist and pulling him close in a friendly hug. "So, what other costumes have you done?"
"I made one for dad, one for me...just for fun, stop looking at me like that, and I made a few replica ones to sell online to fans. "
"You have a costume, let me see!" Richard said, tossing the mask over his shoulder and jumping into the closet. "Oh god, I hope it's not this purple leather thing!"
"Get out of there!" Jeremiah yelled, chasing Richard into the small walk in closet, intent on killing the boy.
"Oh my god, it's the dress, isn't it!"
"Richard!"
-
"I can't believe you have a Batman replica! You freak!"
"Richard Greyson if you don't put that down right now I'm going to kill you! Do you know how much that costs?"
Bruce raised his head as two blurs went past him, one carrying what appeared to be a miniture version of his suit, the other apparently intent on murdering the first blur. He followed said blurs to the back porch, watching as Richard danced around the backyard with the replica costume, avoiding Jeremiah's swipes to get it back, laughign.
"Do I want to know?" Jonathan asked, not looking up from the braids he was creating in Sarah's hair, cursing as his figners slipped, twisting the braid.
"I don't...wait, are you braiding?"
"Yes, problem?"
"Not really," he trailed off as there was a shout of pain and his attention was jerked back to the yard, where he found Jeremiah straddling Richard's stomach, fist raised, intent on punching Richard in the stomach again.
"Jeremiah Richard Crane!"
The shout had come from both of their fathers, the words blending together until you could barely tell them apart, freezing the pair in the yard. "Shit, we've become one person," Richard muttered.
"Think we should run?" Jeremiah asked, anger fleeing him in sight of their father's anger.
"Oh yeah,"
The two boys jumped up to their feet, taking back off into the house, going the long way around to the front to avoid their parents, pushing each other as they tried to go up the stairs together.
Jonathan sighed, rubbing his forehead, a migraine starting behind his eyes. He sat back down, squeezing the bridge of his nose under his glasses as he tried to calm his temper.
"Relax, Jonathan, they're boys, boys rough house," Sarah said, rubbing his back lightly before grinning. "And brothers more so,"
"They're not brothers," Jonathan muttered, pushing his glasses up his nose.
"Could have fooled me," Sarah said with a smile, kissing his cheek. She then leaned in, cupping his ear in a childish fashion. "And if you keep it up with Bruce, they might as well be," she teased in a whisper, causing Jonathan to blush and Bruce to ask if he was okay.