9878/Knightfall: Paterfamilias

Knightfall: Paterfamilias
Date of Scene:	02 November 2019
Location:	Interior - Wayne Manor
Synopsis:	Damian, Dick, and Bruce discuss the current state of affairs and make plans for the Bat-future.
Cast of Characters:	Batman, Robin (Wayne), Nightwing
Tinyplot:	Knightfall

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Batman has posed:
Ever since he was moved to Wayne Manor's master bedroom to convalesce, Bruce hasn't left the room. He spends almost every day ensconced in darkness, the blackout curtains drawn day and night leaving him with only the sterile glow of monitors as company. Certainly, there have been visitors, but they are few and far between. His only true constant has been Alfred, and even the stoic old man has given the elder Wayne a wide berth - struggling to fight back the emotion of seeing him in such a state and unwilling to let him see that emotion.

So, Bruce is alone. He's awake for the moment, immobile in the bed save for the brace about his neck that seems to whir and adjust with each micro-movement. From a pull-out stand that hangs over his face is a computer screen, turned to shine directly down onto his face. He moves it with motions of his eyes and faint gestures of his hands that seem incapable of precise action now.

On the screen, news footage of South Channel Island taken from the air shows it writhing with plant life - Poison Ivy's new fiefdom.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian had his hands full lately, designed that way by Barbara and the other members of the Family. Idle hands and such, and no one wanted Damian to start losing it.

  He'd been in a rut, exacerbated by the departure of Talia from the Manor. Dressed in a black turtleneck and black slacks, Damian finally found himself in front of Bruce's room. Even though his approach was silent by instinct, he knew Bruce would probably hear him.

  He did not know what to say. No words could express the emotion he felt at the moment.

Batman has posed:
"Damian," Bruce says aloud, still staring up at the monitor. He doesn't raise his voice, trusting that trained ears will carry the name to where it needs to go.

He hadn't seen his son since before the fight with Superman, and his memories of those delirious, agonizing moments are mercifully incomplete. He has read the reports and been told by both Doctor Thompkins and Alfred of the role his son had played in keeping him alive, but he'd not had the chance to speak to him about it in person.

He looks up at the monitor again, mutters "retract" and watches as the robotic arm withdraws it back to sit silence and idle against the wall. He cannot turn his head nor body, so he simply lets his eyes glance sidelong towards the door. Waiting.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian, with arms crossed, approaches Bruce's bedside. "Father." He said plainly, to anyone else outside of the Family, it would sound grumpy. But it was his neutral state.

  There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to yell at Bruce about. But his memories went back to when he had been perched on Bruce's stomach, pumping his heart at 100 bpm to keep his brain from suffocating. After that, he couldn't say any of it. And he couldn't be as angry as he was then. As much as Damian was the same boy that showed up two years ago, he was also more than that, he was Robin now, sworn to protect Gotham and by proxy the Wayne's from harm.

Batman has posed:
Bruce watches Damian in silence for a moment, letting the greeting hang cold in the air. Rather than speak, he lifts the plastic breathing mask that lays by his side on the mattress and brings it to his mouth. He takes a long, deep breath - the nearby machine whirring to life as it pumps air down into his lungs. He lets the mask fall back to the ground, not so much putting it down as losing the strength in his hand to hold it there.

"Dick is back," he says, defaulting to shop talk, "He'll be Batman now."

No 'until I'm better'. There's nothing temporary about the way Bruce phrases it. Certainly, there are irons in the fire that may allow him to recover, but he's already taken so much of a beating. Even if he could walk again, could he ever really come back to that same physical state he was in before a demon in a Kryptonian's body shattered him against the asphalt?

He didn't want to think about it.

"Ivy," he carries on, giving orders and information just as he would normally save that his voice is slower and punctuated by rattling breaths, "Rent out every hotel in the county. Any spare room. Get in touch with GCPD. Wayne Enterprises is going to - "

Another pause, another rattling breath through his oxygen mask.

" - going to house the refugees from South Channel. Put whatever spin on it you need to."

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian's al Ghul eyes had a way of piercing through darkness, harnessing any ambient light from the area and shining it back in that errie shade of green. The news of Dick coming back made those eyes flare with surprise. "You giving me another leash?" He said, scathingly. "I don't need Grayson looking over my shoulder, silently criticizing my every move."

  The situation with Ivy gets Damian to lower his guard a little. This was Wayne Enterprises business. "I will take care of it. Set up through the proper channels."

Batman has posed:
There's no visible reaction from Bruce as Damian bucks against the idea of Dick as Batman. He doesn't frown, sigh, or bargain. He simply lays there, no longer staring at his son but instead fixing his eyes on the canopy of the four-post bed he lays in. He is still and silent as the grave, the steady chime of his heart monitor the only thing left to suggest that he hadn't suddenly died.

"Batman and Robin," he offers, flatly, "Halves of one whole. Not a leash. A partnership."

The confirmation of the work with the refugees also nets no visible reaction, though the fact that he does not touch on it again suggests he's satisfied with this way forward. There's another lengthy silence as Bruce lifts what looks to be a folded piece of paper faintly clasped between index and middle finger in his left hand.

"She's gone."

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     For as much as Damian showed anger outright, the mention of Dick as his partner lowered his defenses. It was not at all what Damian thought Bruce would say.

  Followed by the mention of Talia...and Damian couldn't hold himself. He rested his head on Bruce's bedside, his arms crossed and cradling his head. He had tried to keep it all together, but he couldn't. Not in front of Bruce, not after everything. "I know. She left as I came home. She left me, again." Damian always wore his heart on his sleeve, and was usually good at keeping it bottled up like Bruce. But despite his insistence, Damian was still a kid. It hurt him, harder than he thought it would, to have his mother leave his dream behind like that again.

Batman has posed:
"I read why," Bruce says flatly, holding up the note for Damian to see, "It isn't abandonment. Not really. She thinks this is the right decision to make. Her reasons are selfless ones."

What he may think of Talia's choices he does not say, and the tone of his voice suggests he may never do so. Though she shows Damian the note, he does not let him read it. Once more it is returned to wherever it is, he keeps it, tucked away between mattress and nightstand. Where it has been secreted away ever since he had awoken to find it there.

"Your family is more than blood," he says now, eyes once more opening to stare sidelong at Damian.

Something else may be there. Some words meant to be said but that don't quite make it out of him. Instead, he lifts the oxygen mask to his mouth and takes several deep breaths.

Nightwing has posed:
From the door, a new arrival lingers, staying out of the way for several long beats: silent and distant. Blending into the shadow of the door, as Bruce keeps the room so dark. Perhaps, in a way, that blending is some small assurance that Dick might, in fact, fit the mantle that's dropped so suddenly on him.

But Dick doesn't linger to eavesdrop: he entered for other reasons, and isn't about to stand there and spy. He quietly steps out, towards the bedside, his expression turning clouded. Compassion for the young one is there, but he's dampening it down somewhat, in case Damian takes it the wrong way. Dick approaches the bed, though, eyes moving from Bruce's face to the back of the teenager, to come to stand behind Damian's left shoulder.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Over the last years, Damian had learned exactly that what Bruce spoke of. Jason, Barbara, Dick, Stephanie, even (Slightly begrudgingly) Tim, had been dropped as rivals, to siblings in his eyes.

  He never told a soul, but he had wished Bruce and Talia and him could make this work as a family. He yearned for that bond. Though the voice in his head constantly told him it was a pipe dream. He was a soldier, an assassin, he was the heir. There was no love in the League, and he was stupid for even trying.

  Damian's black hair was the only part of his head showing above the bed and his arms. If he did hear Dick walking up, it went unnoticed for now.

  "Did you mean it?" He asked, slightly muffled in the fabrics. "The post script. Did you mean it?"

Batman has posed:
Bruce regards Damian as though trying to see him through a haze of fog. Whatever he refers to, it seems for a moment as though the man's memory - usually unerringly sharp - has failed him. But then the realization dawns, visible only in a slight shift of his brow. His answer is simple and to the point. No unnecessary frills.

"Yes. You should."

As Dick approaches, Bruce's blue eyes shift from one son to the other. He regards the eldest implacably, letting the gravity of the moment sink in.

"Did it fit?" As though he hadn't had it constructed to perfection down to the micrometer.

Nightwing has posed:
A brief puzzled look comes to Dick's eyebrows at the question Damian brings forward, as well as the answer, but he doesn't comment about it. It's something private, and Dick will absolutely respect that without anything more than a lightly quizzical look. If it's important, he'll learn at some point. As usual, Dick isn't applying pressure; he can leave that to Bruce.

"No," Dick answers Bruce calmly, tone smooth. He lets that hang in the air for a beat. "But we can grow into it," Dick appends, moving one hand out and down, to gently touch Damian's shoulder with his palm.

Not 'I', but 'we'.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     A gentle nod of his head at Bruce's answer. He knew what he would have to do from there. The teen rested his arms to his side now, gathering himself after the brief outflow of emotion.

  Dick's choice of words is poignant, very poignant. The hand on Damian's shoulder felt warm, warmer than he has felt in a long time.

  The youngest Wayne just turned his head, looking up at Dick after that statement. He'd been on his own after the fight with Superman, everyone gave him space. But he didn't want space. He wanted so many things. He wanted revenge, he wanted blood. When he did get those, it felt hollow. The severed head of the Superman statue, still held as a trophy, the drinking, the ultra-violence, the brief moments of laughter. It did not make him feel better.

  This moment, Dick's touch, Bruce's words, they did make it better.

Batman has posed:
"Good."

Bruce has never been much for emotive displays or compassion. Everyone knew it ran there beneath the surface, but that was like saying if you dug ten miles down through solid granite with just your fingers, you'd find gold. Maybe so, but it was so out of sight and mind that it may as well not exist.

But at least he's here, hearing what's being said. Being a presence that may not be entirely comforting but at least has a sense of normalcy. His injuries have not changed his voice or his tone.

"Monitor."

By his bed, the monitor affixed to the robotic arm once again springs to life. It slips out from its casing, moving into position between the three of them. A simple vocal command prompts it to rotate, and another brings up a satellite's eye view map of Gotham.

"Hot spots," Bruce explains, as different areas of the map light up, "Reports over the police scanner, informants, and our surveillance systems."

Even if he can't still be Batman, he can still do the mental legwork. Rest and relaxation never were for him.

Nightwing has posed:
The others in this room may stumble in some social skills, but Dick doesn't. He'll just have to hold all the heads above water emotionally. That's his duty, isn't it? Dick takes in Damian's look when he turns towards him, reads the stress in the teenager's eyes, and promptly squeezes his shoulder with a quick response of a sly smile.

For the moment they're okay, is the reassurance, before Dick moves his broad hand from the boy's shoulder towards the back of Damian's hair and neck to rest, unless Damian pulls away. No force or tension in it, just an soothing offer to his little brother, and he'll leave it there until Damian's done. It's an expression of something deeper than a quick shoulder-squeeze. It's not one-sided, either: Dick's alone and concerned, too.

When Dick speaks, though, it's business, for Bruce. "I did a patrol earlier tonight, including a surveillance system repair. I updated the records and added video from that."

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian allowed the embrace to continue, even through the status report. Even the surly teenager could not shove off the support of the metaphorical rock of the family. "Drake's hooded figure showed up at Janet Van Dyne's party. I had to pull an underage drunk act to get a clear picture of his face. I am sure that story is all in the headlines now. 'Billionaire Boozy Boy Damian Wayne' At least Father laid the groundwork for the overindulgent playboy bit. Ivy is going to have to be addressed. She displaced a lot more people than just a city park this time."

  The young Robin had a breath of fresh air at this point, wind beneath his wings.

Batman has posed:
"I'll review them," Bruce says of the new information uploaded to the Batcomputer, "The hooded man is Kryptonian, or wearing the livery of one. That symbol refers to a Kryptonian deity called 'Rao' - Red Robin made a report confirming it. The woman that was spotted at the memorial service was Amanda Waller - her involvement could be trouble. She's an amoral pit bull, bent on the idea that might makes right."

The briefing seems to invigorate the man. Though he's still not moving, he seems more alive than he has since he awoke from the coma.

"If you do investigate her," he leaves it open to them, knowing how heavy the workload is already, "Take care. She's much sharper than you might expect."

Once more, he refers back to the map of Gotham.

"Batgirl is monitoring the situation on South Channel Island. I trust her to handle it and Ivy but be there if she needs support. Kestrel and Red Hood have made the necessary arrangements to deal with this spinal injury - once I'm able to move, I'll set up in the Batcave and provide you updates in real time."

Nightwing has posed:
Dick is watchful of Bruce's status. They want him invigorated, but not rolling around and crushing his back. There's a limit, of course.

"I've scheduled some meetings with different Justice League members," Dick brings up, as if it were next on his mental docket. "Unfortunately we don't have just Gotham and Bludhaven to worry about." There's that whole other side of the assignment of the Batman title related to that group, as well. "I saw something unusual with Boom Tube use that I'm going to bring up. It could be something." The vague quality was intentional: Dick suspects Bruce will catch on that quickly, something to dig through that doesn't involve a physical patrol. There are more styles of comfort than a hand on a shoulder!

Dick had dropped his eyes, his free hand resting against his belt at his hip, gaze moving over the sheet, and the back of Damian's head for a moment, his own hand there. Then back to Bruce. "If there's anything I need to know before going into the Watchtower, send me a brief, please," he adds, towards Bruce. His tone is capable, clear, and accepting. He'll handle it, his voice promises.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     "I'm sure the Justice League has a stick up their ass after I took that statue's head on live TV." Damian interjects with a snicker, before composing himself. "The Titans are doing well without me for now. They...knew I would not leave them alone unless it was important." And important it was, Damian always told them that he had to prioritize Gotham.

  "Oh, yeah. That is in the Batcave, by the way. A golden Superman head." He hasn't mentioned that little bit to Bruce yet. But he was sure that by now he'd seen the video of the incident. Damian remained unapologetic about it.

Batman has posed:
"I know," Bruce says of the severed statue head, though his opinion of it all remains a mystery. He does not smile, but nor does he frown or furrow his brow. He just accepts it as fact and moves on.

"I want to speak with Diana," he tells Dick, eyes flitting momentarily to him, "If you're going to speak with her, ask her if she'll come by."

There's no real tell of what he wants to speak to her about, though suffice it to say if he's not mentioning it then it may not be purely business related. Or maybe it's just another one of Bruce Wayne's many secrets.

"Haven't been to the Watchtower since before Metropolis. Imagine it might be in disarray. They're people who don't fully understand why I did what I did, or think I took it too far. They might hold that grudge against you, too. You'll need to be bigger than that."

Nightwing has posed:
"I don't want to look at him right now in any form, including that of a statue," Dick replies to Damian dryly, but doesn't withdraw his hand. Damian hasn't lost his brother's support, though he lacks the excitement over the statue beheading that Damian has.

"I'm not going to blow up our alliances with the others in the Justice League. /They/ didn't do this." 'This' being the elephant of injury in the room. Then Dick falls quiet, to listen to what Bruce has to say about the rest of it. Dick nods once. "I will ask her. And I know what needs to be done," Dick answers. "I'll be diplomatic, but I'm not going to give excuses or explanations for your decisions." Bruce can do those later on his own.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     "Wonder Woman..." He remembered the speech she gave for Superman. She was a fierce warrior, but also compassionate in a way that Damian wasn't, but he tried to be.

  "She above all would not begrudge Batman." Damian said with the confidence of a child would of Superman, before he went rogue of course.

  Damian still did not protest against the embrace behind his head and on his shoulder. "So, we patrol tonight." He comments to Dick, looking up and to the left to meet eyes. "Like old times?" Back when he was new, barely having earned his uniform, when Dick saved him from an attack by a tiger. It was then that Damian had seen the selflessness of a hero firsthand, and set him down the path of a hero, versus that of the master assassin.

Batman has posed:
"I don't have that concern," Bruce tells Dick, "If anyone is equipped to deal with the Justice League's excess of personality, it's you."

Was that a compliment? A barb? There's no inflection in the words to give a hint and before it can really sink in, Bruce has moved on. Damian's reactions might even draw a smile from him, though there is little more the faintest tug at the corner of his mouth. No grinning or beaming.

"I don't need to explain myself to them. I did the right thing."

He takes a long breath now, reaching for the oxygen mask and bringing it to his face to supplement it.

"You should start your patrol."

Nightwing has posed:
Dick had been looking across Damian to Bruce, in time to catch that tiny smile, but he meets Damian's gaze instead when the teenager turns towards him. Dick smirks immediately - a far more Nightwing expression than that of Batman - and uses his hand to attempt to completely mess up Damian's hair by roughly rubbing it the wrong way from the nape up to the front.

A nod shows his agreement with Bruce's indication about the patrol. "There isn't going to be a lot of night left if we don't go soon," he tells the younger Robin firmly, but his tone is actually kind. It will take some time to grow into Batman: or they'll find their own way.

"I'll check in before I go to the Watchtower," Dick comments to Bruce. There's a goodbye for now in the words. This patrol is important: new habits need to be formed. Dick drops his hand away from Damian and moves to leave.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     'You should start' Was all Damian needed before he started running off. His shoes clapping down the hallway before there was a small silence then a protest from the stairs. "My word, Master Damian! We do NOT slide down the bannister like a skating park!"