batmom scribble because super fun to write and the justice league trailer !!
It was to be expected, it took all the women she had ever loved from her. Maybe that’s why she didn’t mind that her family consisted of males only now, men that go out every night, have her worried sick, not sure if it’ll be their last or if they’ll be spared another day, but nevertheless they were male and could not get thing she’s lost all her female relatives to; breast cancer.
And while it was to be expected it came suddenly, but she was not dumb, she was not going to burden her boys with these horrible news, besides they were busy with their own things, far more important things like crime, so she kept it to herself. She directly scheduled her doctors appointment herself, didn’t even give them the house number just so Alfred wouldn’t get a whip of her disease, she started wearing shawls and scarfs even though she still had hair. It was so that when she does lose all of it it wouldn’t seem that she was hiding her head out of the blue. She was smart like that.
She’s in the kitchen, early morning as she groans at Damian for being so slow, school is in thirty minutes after all. Dick appears in the room too, seeming to have spent a night in the manor, working on a case with the dark knight, as he yawns greeting the Waynes. Y/N passes him a cup of coffee before she turns to Damian again, glaring at him as he only eats slower noticing her do so.
“Is there a new fashion trend I’m not aware about? It makes you look so much older than you are, mom.” Dick says casually as she gapes at him, his what actually is an innocent comment making her insides turn.
“For your information I happen to like it.”
She hates it.
She swallows it down, hand coming up the scarf wrapped around her head, checking if no hair is peeking out as she gets back to scolding Robin about how he’s going to be late.
A few weeks pass and she’s pulling hair out of the drain, stuffing it down the trash deep down as tears brim in her eyes. She’s looking at herself in the mirror, skin like wet cloth hugging her bones as she sighs, wondering at how the bloody hell shes going to cover this up. For the next few days Bruce is busy, and she’s never been so relieved to be alone in bed, coughing blood and crying her eyes out.
She gets a wig, expensive one too, gluing eyelashes to her bare skin, tainting her cheeks the rosiest red that she can find for the charity ball she has to attend. Bruce is still busy and yet again she’s relieved, hell, she’d never want to be apart from her husband, but here she is, trying her best to smile at the rich folks. She gets in a good hour before she’s completely beat, she’s stumbling over to the bathroom, calling her assistant to help her leave quietly to the hospital.
She wakes up around 5 am, chest aching, tubes and IV’s attached to her, her assistant gone missing. And then she nearly fights the doctor to let her leave, she’ll have surgery the next day and before that she just needs to see her boys. And so when the sun finally rises, a beautiful Sunday morning she’s looking around.
She’s in the kitchen again, not only a scarf but one of Bruce’s old hoodies hiding her head as she prepares breakfast, Alfred out on his own person business. All of the others are here though — her boys. Jason, of course, is bickering with Tim, who’s not really giving him much of a response, Dick stands by Y/N as he informs Damian about one of his times as Robin, the son of Batman rolling his eyes at his brother. Y/N smiles, this is what she wanted to see, yes, there’s a chance the surgery will go good, but if not — this is what she wanted to see before she goes.
She’s spreading jelly on the peanut butter sandwich as her husband enters the kitchen, her smile only widening, it feels like ages since she’s seen him. But he doesn’t return it, he’s clutching a daily planet newspaper in his fist as he looks at his wife; her face is drawn on, to make her look happy and not dead, head hid behind layers of clothing, the skin that he can see, her wrists and hands, are skeleton like, only skin and bones to be exact. And he’s even shaking his head slowly, the boys looking at him confused before he slams the article on the table in front of them.
Y/N catches a glimpse of it and she’s gasping, her name is printed out in bright read, and so is her sickness. And she’s wincing, not only does the actual cancer is aching, but so is her heart — her assistant ratted her out to the press for the money. And now the entire fucking world knows.
“Take it off.” Bruce is in front of her now, Y/N looking at his blue eyes that aren’t blue at all anymore — there’s thunder and lightning, the storm brewing inside them making the woman uneasy.
“Surely this can’t be true, it’s just what papers do, like, click bait and stuff?” Tim says before she can even do anything and now her heart is cracking completely.
So she takes it off, minutes taking hours it seems as she pushes the hood off, unwrapping her scarf to reveal her bald head as she looks down in shame, the room filling with suffocating silence.
“How could you not tell us?” Jason immediately fires, fists balled up.
“I was going to! That’s why I invited you all for breakfast.. I wanted to see my family together one last time.” She murmurs, disappointed at herself, crystal beads filling her eyes as she’s trying her best not to sob.
“H-how long have you been hiding it?” Dick asks.
“A month or so, maybe a little longer.”
“My wife has cancer for over a month and I fail to notice—”
“No! I hid it well, it’s none of your fault, I pick up on your detective things you know, I know how to trick. I just didn’t want you to worry..”
“Worry? Y/N, you can’t go through these things alone, Jesus, I can’t believe I didn’t notice, please tell me you at least have good news, that it’s not all that bad, that you might actually make it—” He cuts himself with a sob and everyone’s eyes are on him as Bruce hugs Y/N, wrapping his so much bigger frame around her so tight as if she could disappear any second.
“I— I don’t know, they’re going to try and remove as many tumors as they can tomorrow, but there’s no promises, don’t get your hopes up.” She says, rubbing her husband’s back as the boys look back at her sadly.
“But you’re going to fight, aren’t you?” Damian says, Y/N squeezing out a smile to the youngest.
“You can count on it.”