I can’t help but think that Jason is ridiculously strong. The kid was eleven and jacking tires. Not only that, but when he swung the tire jack at Bruce, Bruce doubled over. All the while, Jay is severely malnourished.
This boy has the strength of a lion while living on the streets. Makes me wonder what he was like when he was healthy. He could probably push down pillars like a regular Samson.
Some mornings, you had obligations. You had to wake up early.
When you and Bruce got married, you took the place of second CEO at Wayne Enterprise, to relieve your husband of a bit of the weight of it all. To make things easier on his end…To allow him to, sometimes, sleep more than three hours a night.
You did it gladly.
One morning every two days, more if Bruce was injured, you’d wake up early in the morning to go take care of the family business (when Bruce asked you if you could help, you felt like he genuinely fully trusted you…he trusted you with his parents’ empire, which meant a lot).
Your Bruce both loved and hated it. Loved it because it meant that he could take a well deserve rest, hated it because it also meant that he’d wake up alone in the bed and oh he loathed that more than anything. He lived for those days were neither him nor you had anything to do, and could just cuddle your way to 5 pm haha.
He also hated it because, since you monitored the bat computer every nights, you also needed your sleep and…he just hated the fact that your “obligations” toward him and his enterprise made you wake up.
You wouldn’t have it any other way though, anything to allow your Broosh to rest, to recuperate and such. He wasn’t getting any younger and needed those peaceful time…Of course it was even better when you could both be lazy in your bed but, life wasn’t always like that.
This morning, your faithful alarm clock, aka Alfred Pennyworth, came into your room to wake you up and…it was difficult.
Last night, Bruce and your boys came back around 8 am, and of course you stayed up with them, monitoring the bat computer. And when you and Bruce finally got to bed…Well, you needed each others before sleeping and you both collapsed after a heated love making session, exhausted. Now, barely two hours later, you had to wake up and your entire body was sore and screaming for more sleep and…Uh, Alfred was having none of it.
-Lady (Y/N), you need to wake up.
-I am awake…
You said in a weak voice, bringing the blanket up to your nose.
Bruce didn’t even budge, his arms around you, his face nuzzling your hair. Contrary to popular belief, once he was truly asleep, Bruce was very difficult to wake up and there could be a very loud metal concert next to him and he wouldn’t even hear it, too deep in his slumber.
And right now, as you and Alfred talked aloud next to him, and you shifted in his arms…Well, he didn’t even move one inch.
Okay, but…consider the first time Diana talked with Bruce about Cassandra:
“I hear congratulations are in order,” she said once they were alone in the conference room, “and a daughter, no less!” Diana’s face scrunched up in the warm way that meant she was teasing, but also genuine.
Bruce twitched his cape a bit on his way to placing his disposable cup in the nearby receptacle. As good as an admission of embarrassment from him.
“Thank you,” he said, overly formal, “Cassandra seems to be settling in-”
He stopped as Diana flinched. Waited for her to provide an explanation.
“Forgive me,” she said quietly, “Is that…a common name?”
And suddenly he thought he knew why she was uncomfortable, though Amazon culture was still, would always be, by nature, somewhat unknowable to him.
“It’s not very common, but still in use,” he replied, matching her volume.
And Diana is grateful. She can see that she doesn’t have to explain to him - to this man, the quickest of her colleagues - why that name would bother her.
Because, had they daughters, no Amazon would ever dare to name them for her. For the sacred story. For the cautionary tale. One of the names that would always be whispered reverently by the women of the island. Whose fate would always be mourned on holy days, when they all remembered why they had turned their backs on the world of men.