— Sean —
"Hmm…" I hummed to myself, seemingly out of the blue, as Didi and I closed up for the night. "The Bat kids have been in a real mood lately."
A few days after Raven's 'ritual', things had mostly returned to normal. She'd come back for more once already. The insatiable half-Demon wasn't about to give up real pleasure and satisfaction now that she'd gotten a taste of it. I was more than happy to fuck her mindbroken as often as she wished.
But otherwise, the Dead End chugged along as it tended to. Just good times and good friends, mostly. Never quiet, not completely. But generally uneventful and always peaceful, as the patrons respected our neutrality.
Gotham was the same, though with much less peace or uneventfulness. That week in particular, there seemed to be something in the air. The regulars — mainly Batman's rogues — were somewhat… restless.
Penguin had some big deal he was worried about going through — something to do with selling ice in a desert. Riddler was in one of his phases, though thankfully, not an unmedicated one. He'd still organized a rather tense, running trivia night across the city that ended with a minor case of brawling when Grundy won it all. And Catwoman had stolen the very concept of Bane's addiction and sold it to the highest bidder. That, at least, seemed to be turning out well for everyone involved.
In all, not that unusual for Gotham. But it was still a lot happening without much chance to breathe. It wasn't affecting business, just the general mood in the air. Especially amongst the heroes tasked with keeping law and order.
"I think it's one of those weeks," Didi replied sympathetically. "And I don't think they even realize they're having one of those weeks yet. So… one of those 'those weeks'…"
"Bad times and burnout sneak up on the best of us, sometimes. We should do something nice for them."
"It'd be nice, yes."
"A gift or something?"
"A vacation," Didi deadpanned. "That family doesn't even know the meaning of the word 'break'. We'll have to teach them ourselves."
"Heh, very true. A vacay, then. You up for another, my Death?"
"I think I could be convinced."
I nudged her, "Especially if there's more Family waiting on the other end?"
A grin bloomed on Didi's face, "Well, now that you've offered~…"
"I know just the life to revisit," I nodded. "You know what burned-out Bat kids really need?"
"A chance at therapy via visceral violence without any moral quandries?" Didi suggested.
"And 'not-Magic' Soul powers," I added with a chuckle.
"That would likely do it," Didi nodded.
"We can even take Alice," I said. "And make the vacay a short one on the local end. A long vacay for us, with next to no time passing here, so they don't have to worry about abandoning their duties to Gotham. We'll be back in time to open up for the night on this end."
"I imagine they'd appreciate that consideration."
"Overworking themselves so much… They must get it from their father."
"Without a doubt. So, as good friends, it's our responsibility to give them a chance to unwind."
"I couldn't agree more, my Death. You wanna get Alice packed and ready while I collect our guests for this vacay?"
"You do realize you'll have to all but abduct them to get them to take the break they deserve?"
"That's the plan, yeah. It's for their own good."
"Well, just be gentle," Didi giggled. "No use stressing them out even more beforehand."
"No promises~," I grinned. "As a wholesomely eldritch, witchy teacher once liked to say: 'Take chances, make mistakes, get messy!' A little vacay abduction is the only way they'll learn to pace themselves."
"The Magic School Bus and Miss Frizzle, dear?" Didi raised a surprised eyebrow in recognition. "Did you know her?"
"Unfortunately, no," I sighed. "I would've hit that ass so fucking hard… Alas, I can only take her advice and make this 'vacay' trip one to remember and learn from."
"It'll be enough, Sean," Didi reassured. "Time away from their duties will be enough. Hopefully, they'll take the coming lesson to heart."
"Cass certainly will. That girl knows how to have fun. Too much fun, honestly…" I chuckled, shaking my head fondly. "It's Barbara, Jason, and Damian we'll have to focus on. Though Alice might be able to help us with one of them…"
"Vacation and matchmaking~?" Didi chortled. "Now, you're just spoiling me."
"For my Death? I'll always aim to please~… Now, shall we?"
"We shall."
IIIII
— Barbara —
In Gotham, the work never truly stopped. Not even with the Dead End taking much of any given night's traffic these days. Gotham would always be a city that didn't so much sleep as it did simmer… constantly.
The Bats were still needed. They still rarely got a break or vacation to speak of. There was just too much to be done. Bruce was the only one who could've stood against Gotham's 'simmer' alone. But more and more, he found himself busy with the League and hero business beyond Gotham. The sidekicks had become heroes in their own right, now, and they were the ones who consistently watched over the city where it all began.
That wasn't to say Bruce neglected his duty to Gotham. No one would go that far. He was still the hardest-working man Barbara knew. To the point of self-harm, she often felt. That hard work was just directed to the bigger picture now, more often than not. He didn't have time to patrol Gotham's streets every night and stop every crime himself. But he had the rest of the BatFam for that.
His kids picked up the mantle where he wasn't able to anymore. He taught them well. When an international threat stirred up trouble for Bruce and the League, Barbara and the others were making sure their home didn't burn down in the meantime. They had reputations and responsibilities to their names, and even Damian had long since left Bruce's shadow.
In doing so, they were never bored. But always… harried, stressed, and overworked. Tonight, for example. Fear was in the air… And that meant Barbara was tracking down Scarecrow. It couldn't have been anyone else.
Rumor had it that something odd was going on at a deli, of all places, in Old Gotham. Whispers on the local net and social media spoke of late-night thrills and spooky shit. Of course, in Gotham, that wasn't all that strange. Ghosts… Barbara wasn't superstitious, but she believed in ghosts. She'd seen too much not to believe in them. But the ghosts of cold-cuts and individually sliced cheese…?
As ridiculous as it sounded, Barbara tracked down the posts and marked the haunted deli's location. It'd seemingly become the trendy 'challenge' spot for the kids in the neighborhood. Just something to do when they were a little drunk or high or horny late at night.
It was an uncharacteristically wholesome outcome for Scarecrow, but Barbara knew his work when she saw it. While ghosts weren't his usual style, he was an innovator when it came to fear and horror. She wouldn't put it past him to make a haunted house out of a deli.
Running off exactly 21 hours of sleep over the past week (she'd counted every minute of it…), Barbara descended upon the 'haunted' deli. She was exhausted from being on alert with only carefully calculated breaks. But her determination hadn't dimmed or wavered. Scarecrow was being harmless for now, but there was no telling if he'd remain that way. Horror, by necessity, needed to be shocking. So, his relatively wholesome endeavor could switch up at any moment. It was Barbara's duty to ensure it didn't harm Gotham when it did.
"Scarecrow? Jon…?" Barbara called out as she walked straight through the deli's front door.
A bell connected to the door chimed ominously. A monitor in Barbara's suit identified traces of Scarecrow's fear toxin in the air. Insidious and troublesome stuff, that fear toxin. It had an annoying way of sneaking through even the Bat-suits' nano-scrubbers. Already, Barbara was bracing herself.
She felt when the hallucinations began. But knowing didn't change what she was seeing. A ticket machine at the counter clicked. It churned out a ticket that seemed to fly right into Barbara's face. 'You're next…' Barbara sighed.
"At least the service is prompt. Jon?" She called out. "I just want to talk!"
Another ticket clicked out, 'The dead take no orders.'
"It's a deli, Jon," Barbara deadpanned. "That's the whole fucking business."
"It's not me, Batgirl! This shit's actually haunted! You gotta help me!" Scarecrow's voice cried out from the back of the shop.
That made Barbara pause. It seemed that her mission description had changed almost immediately. Scarecrow wasn't holding cold-cut ghosts hostage… They were holding him.
The weight of the whole week hit Barbara then. An odd sort of realization that seemed to come out of nowhere, but at the same time, had been building through night after night of Gotham's usual bullshit. One of her villains being held hostage by the ghosts of sliced ham was just the final straw. The culmination that made her week of weeks set in.
Suddenly, Barbara hung her head in defeat, "… What a shit fucking week."
"You think you have it bad?!" Scarecrow shouted back. "I just wanted a sandwich!"
The cold cuts behind the counter came to life from beyond the grave. Salami shuddered. Turkey trembled. Roast beef rumbled bestially. And worst of all, slice after slice of ham hefted itself into the air with awful, meaty, slapping flaps like a bird. Barbara discovered at what point pigs flew…
"Oh, Sean's headpats…! That's so, so, SO FUCKING CURSED!" Barbara exclaimed, springing into action to avoid flapping ham. "C'mon, Jon! I'm getting you out of this cold-cut hell!"
"I can't!" Scarecrow sounded like he was on the verge of genuine tears. "The sausage links have me all tied up back here!"
"Fucking, fucking, fuck-!" Barbara couldn't find the words to express how heinous the situation was, only curses.
She ended up having to fight her way through pounds of deli-prepped, haunted meat. A few wholly animated sandwiches, as well, acting as final bosses of some accursed sort. And the cheese… 'Oh, Didi,' Barbara shuddered. 'The cheese…'
Both covered in cold grease, Barbara eventually emerged from the haunted deli with Scarecrow in tow. And she was done. Done to the point of physically twitching. She'd never be able to look at sliced meats in the same way again… Worst of all… she was kind of craving a sandwich.
Then, Sean's ridiculous Death Van pulled up beside her, "Hey, Babs, get in-! Huh… What happened to you? Need a ride?"
"I need a shower," Barbara didn't so much deadpan as she just felt dead. "And a revenge-wich."
"I can help with one of those things now, but the revenge-wich might take me some research," Sean said.
He waved a hand in her direction, and Barbara damn-near sagged in relief as she was spontaneously cleaned of cold grease and cheesy shame, "Bless you, you stupid, sexy, glorious bastard."
"Uh… Alright, I'll take it," Sean shrugged. "Now, get in. I'm taking you, Cass, Jason, and Damian on my next vacation."
"You know what? Yeah," Barbara nodded. "Even if it's a 'Sean' vacation, I could really use a vacation right about now."
IIIII
— Jason —
"To kill or not to kill…" Jason growled. "That is the question. Thankfully, the answer isn't so complicated with a bastard like you… It's always going to be 'fuck a murdering rapist'."
"Wait, wait, wai-!" The scum sputtered frantically, trying to beg for his life.
*BANG! BANG!* Jason cut him off with a double-tap to the forehead. Even two bullets were almost more than the bastard deserved.
Jason glanced at the murdering rapist's victim. He'd been too late to avert her fate… It was a terrible way to go. In dirt, grime, fear, and pain. Jason wouldn't let this nameless alley be her grave. But he'd also been drilled since his Robin days to avoid disrupting crime scenes.
The best he could do was place a tip to Jim Gordon through the back channels. Barbara's father would take care of the rest. He wouldn't cover for him, Jason knew. But Jason didn't expect him to. Jim was a good cop. Someone Jason looked up to. He didn't agree with or approve of Jason's new way with heroics… But he understood. More than Bruce did…
Jason… could admit he'd been struggling recently. Not easily, but he could. And it wasn't a struggle he could address in simple terms. Sure, the week had been busy, even by Bat standards. But Jason's struggle wasn't external. Just the opposite, actually. It was a conflict of Man vs. Self, one of Jason's own making.
An old way and a new one clashed over Jason's morals. The way of heroism he first walked, the creed he was raised with. Or… the way of vengeful justice he was stumbling somewhat blindly through now, the creed he could claim to carve for himself.
The finality of it all, that's what Jason was struggling with most. The old way had no finality to it at all. Its 'justice' was never-ending. An Ouroboros cycle of second, third, fourth, too many chances. A revolving door of criminal patterns, always bearing the same suspects.
There would be no end to Bruce's fight against crime, and Jason thought he liked it that way. Couldn't be him. Not fully, not anymore.
But on the other side of the scale… There was such a thing as too much finality. Jason didn't believe every criminal deserved death. That was another endless cycle in the making, just one of new, unknown faces compared to always more of the same. Knowing when there was a chance for change was just as necessary as knowing when that chance would be futile — ignored and spurned by the one he tried to help.
Jason's new way walked a tightrope between those two extremes, and he found himself still blindly feeling around for his personal limits there. The old way was good for that, at least… It could never be said that Bruce didn't have lines he wouldn't cross. Jason felt those limits were just as worthy as they were… well, limiting.
Sometimes, people just needed to die. But in accepting that truth of the world, was Jason's judgment being turned into a constantly shifting goalpost…? His line in the sand was flexible, but that flexibility had weaknesses of its own.
Bruce had a definite guiding light. He had his limits and lines. But they were his, not Jason's. Jason couldn't bring himself to blindly follow Bruce's path as he had when he was Robin. Only… that left him just as blind as he forged and faltered his way through the world, stumbling straight into his own lines and limits as a hero.
Truthfully, Jason could only say one thing for certain: he wanted to be a hero. He wanted to do good, for Gotham, for the world, in his own way. But going forward, he knew his creed would constantly be in question. It would need to be proven, perhaps to himself most of all.
He would hold regrets. He'd make mistakes. He might even damn himself and become everything Bruce feared: more mindless killer than heroic vigilante. But… Jason dared to dare. He had to, had to make something to call his own. He'd been burned once already. Touched by Death, by Didi… he couldn't be the same boy he was before. To live, truly live with the second chance Didi had given him, Jason needed to be different. He fought for himself, now. Not Bruce, not Jim, Talia, or any of his siblings… just Jason.
It'd been easier when he had a vow of vengeance to approximate a guiding light. The Joker — damn and curse his twisted soul — had been good for that much, at least. For a while there after his return, Jason just had to focus on killing that damned clown. Little else had mattered, certainly not crafting a whole new heroic creed from the ground up to suit his new life…
Now, though, that vengeance had been taken from him. He couldn't complain, not really. Didi had even more of a claim on the Joker's death than Jason did. And Jason still got the pleasure of seeing the clown suffer. He was… satisfied. Left slightly empty in the aftermath, but steadily moving on.
The Dead End helped with that 'moving on', of course. As did… family. While his relationship with Bruce was still strained both ways, Jason found himself interacting with his siblings more and more. As he did, he remembered… Remembered that there was more to life than vengeance. It pushed him onto the path of forming that vague vengeance into the proper heroic creed he was now struggling with. Jason had his siblings, Sean, Didi, and even Alice, to thank for that personal progress.
Alice was the strangest inclusion there. But Jason found he couldn't ignore her presence. She was cute. Lively. And while she didn't struggle with herself as Jason did, she was searching for a path in life to call her own. Just like him… In an oddly enjoyable sort of way, Jason found himself relating to her. Both trying to find their way, both looking to make something unique for themselves, both wanting to be seen as more than their adopted parents' legacies.
Progress — as a person and as a hero — was exhausting, though. Jason felt like he was stressing himself half to death while tearing down an old creed and building a new one in its place. Against himself, Jason pushed, pushed, stumbled, got back up, backtracked, and began pushing anew. His journey was far from a straight line. And honestly? At the moment? Jason could really use a break from it all…
"Honk honk, bud!" A voice pulled Jason out of his brooding.
"Really, Sean? You couldn't just use the horn?"
"Nah, the Vacay Vessel's horn was designed to spook the type of things that lurk in the Void Between. If I used it here, what with the fabric of reality and all… well, let's not find out, yeah?"
Jason jolted in place, turning to see Sean and Barbara parked behind him out of nowhere. That wasn't that surprising, considering the exchange that just passed. But… he'd been brooding on the edge of a rooftop…?
"Wha-? How did you get a van up here and sneak up on me at the same time?" Jason asked.
"It's Sean," Barbara rolled her eyes. "Don't ask."
"Don't stress the small stuff," Sean waved. "Just hop on in, my broody young friend."
"I was monologuing," Jason grumbled.
Sean raised an amused eyebrow, "Broodily?"
"… What's this about, then?" Jason asked, completely avoiding the question. "Are we going somewhere?"
Sean just chuckled, "Indeed, we are. Didi and I figured this was the perfect week to give you Bat kids a bit of a break. So, you, Barbara, Cass, and little Damian will be coming with us on our second vacation."
"I don't need a break that bad-…" Jason began to grumble.
Sean cut him off, adding, "Alice is coming, too."
"… Hnn, fine. A vacation sounds… fine."
IIIII
— Damian —
"A man without enemies, without foes, without rivals, is a poor man, indeed. I find myself disturbingly unwealthy lately. It is… frustrating…"
"…"
"Oh, no, I would not be so greedy. I simply wish to properly test myself so I may continue to grow. My time in Father's service has been… decent for that much. But I can't help but wonder if Grandfather would've been more consistent in finding worthy opponents for me to challenge."
"…"
"True enough, I suppose… Noble companions can be just as important to a man's growth… I don't know if I would call Barbara noble, however. Much less Dick…"
"…"
"Yes, yes, I'm being harsh on them. It is a compliment, in my eyes. I will continue to taunt and slander Barbara at least until she lives up to the greatness I know to be within her. Dick… Dick might be a lost cause."
"…"
"They help me grow, yes. But not nearly enough on their own. I need… I need true danger. Pure violence. A perfect cut and a beautiful parry. I need to be on Didi's door and come back stronger, fiercer, and more driven than ever. Most of all, despite Father's arguments… I need to kill. My blade will not grow any sharper without tasting real death…" Damian considered aloud, putting words to his gathering frustrations.
He would never blame Father for his stagnation. Not truly. The creed against killing was a worthy one. Damian knew it wasn't that Father couldn't kill, it was that he couldn't let himself kill. Father didn't kill because it would be too easy to continue to do so, because it would compromise something within him, making every problem a nail for his new lethal hammer, and because doing things the hard, often futile, way took more strength of will and character than taking the easy and final way out.
Damian respected Father that much more for his steadfast refusal to make himself judge, jury, and executioner. But that was Father's journey, not Damian's, not Jason's, not any of Father's children's journeys. Damian still felt the need for true death to hone his blade. Perhaps it was a weakness in himself. But Damian's chosen weapon was a tool for killing and nothing more. Denying its purpose was noble and worthy, but likely harmful to his personal growth.
Damian scowled, "If only there were worthy opponents that could barely be considered alive in the first place. Father could hardly complain then…"
Soulful eyes stared back at him, the other half of Damian's conversation. Bat-Cow made her feelings known, "Moooooooo~…"
Damian chuckled, "Indeed, what I wouldn't give for an outbreak of vampires from one of Mr. Barkeep's stories."
"Sounds rough, little guy," A new voice suddenly said.
In an instant, Damian went stiff and ready to fight. He didn't turn around, though, wouldn't show that much weakness, even as he recognized the voice and relaxed, "Mr. Barkeep. An honor, I'm sure, even if you are interrupting something rather personal."
"Sorry, Damian," Sean chuckled. "Couldn't help but overhear your frustrations, though."
"You could've," Damian scowled.
"Maybe. Maybe not," Sean shrugged. "Regardless, I might have a solution. How would you like to kill endless hordes of shadow demon-beasts, hellbent on killing people and feeding off their despair?"
"… Let's go."
There was a brief moment of movement, and Barbara found herself shoved out of her seat so Damian could take it. She didn't react well to the rude but necessary intrusion, "Huh?! You brat!"
Damian ignored her, staring seriously at Sean, "I'm already in the van. Let's go. Now. I will have my perfect cut."
IIIII
— Bruce —
Bruce kept his head down, working automatically. It was grunt work, but valuable in keeping everything running smoothly. Mundane and critical at the same time. He filed new reports, processed tips, hints, and online rumors, and coordinated with the Gotham Police Department. Mostly, Bruce concerned himself with keeping all of his family's heroics unimpeachable. They weren't above the law and bureaucracy… Just parallel to it all in a way that made them uniquely effective. But paperwork was still very much required to keep everything above board.
While he was here, while he had the chance away from the League's business, Bruce dedicated his time and effort to Gotham and his family. He wouldn't let his children fall victim to pointless obstructions. Bruce was still a protector, he always would be. But these days, that role rarely took him onto the nightly front lines.
Fine. If he couldn't patrol, he'd still find a way to make things easier for those he cared about. Even Jason… Though watching out for him was consistently Bruce's most trying task these days… He was aware of everything Jason did as Red Hood. Every report he saw or filed for himself left Bruce deeply conflicted… Conflicted, but always proud. They had their disagreements, their own beliefs worth fighting for, but Bruce never missed that Jason was doing his best in his own way.
Bruce didn't sigh. The regret settled within him anyway. Disapproval of Jason's ends and means, mourning for the boy he'd once been, and yet, pride in his son despite Jason's new methods. Straight arguing had gotten them… less than nowhere, though. The best Bruce could do for Jason now was to keep him accountable.
Behind Bruce, another of his children launched herself, rolling chair and all, clear across the Batcave. The chair's wheels clicked with mischief the entire way. In the reflection of the screen before Bruce, his daughter appeared from one side and disappeared into the other.
"ε===(っ≧ω≦)っ"
Bruce didn't ignore Cass, but he didn't address her, either. He kept his head down and kept working.
She pushed herself back, rolling chair and all, once more. On her second pass, Cass stood precariously on the chair's seat and back like a conqueror atop their flagship's prow.
"ヽ( `д´*)ノ"
Bruce kept working. Cass threw herself across the Batcave for a third time. She was sitting in the chair, at least. But her arms and legs were sprawled out, and she was spinning the whole way. Honestly, Bruce was just impressed with her control of the rolling 'beast'.
"⸜(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)⸝"
Still, Bruce plugged away at the Batcomputer. Cass wouldn't get the reaction she wanted out of him. It would utterly defeat the point of confining her to the Batcave. Back and forth, she rolled across the room, reflected on the screen in front of Bruce. Her passes grew increasingly more mischievous and absurd.
"(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ" She pumped and pumped her fist as if dancing to some unheard song.
"(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)" She covered her face in faux-embarrassment, peeking through her fingers to try and catch some reaction from Bruce.
"__φ(..)" She produced a pen and notebook, furiously taking notes as if to imitate Bruce's work.
"C= C= C= C=┌( `ー´)┘" She picked up the chair and ran across the floor in some ridiculous reversal of the norm she'd established.
"(＿ ＿*) Z z z." She mounted the chair again and pretended to sleep the entire way across.
"Σ(°△°|||)︴" She mimed horror, looking behind her as if she were fleeing from an invisible monster.
"(・・ ) ?" She spun slowly, staring Bruce's way with a blank look of confusion and question on her face.
"(￢_￢)" Finally, she stopped halfway across the room, directly behind Bruce, to give him a supreme side-eye.
Bruce let her stew in that side-eye for a few long moments. He didn't look up to meet her eyes in the screen's reflection. He didn't have to. He knew his most mischievous daughter all too well.
"… Don't give me that look."
"(￢_￢;)" Cass continued to shoot him a scathing side-eye. 'This is bull…'
"It's punishment. And you brought it on yourself. When you work yourself nonstop, your takedowns get… ridiculous. Our rogues deserve some dignity. I'm not sure Clayface will ever recover after you finished with him."
"<(￣ ﹌ ￣)>" Cass held strong with her pout. 'Well, I think he looked pretty with all of that glaze and paint.'
"He was crying, Cassandra," Bruce deadpanned. "Clay tears. I think some of your… additions to his person… were permanent. He's going to be bullied in Arkham."
"╮(￣～￣)╭" Cass shrugged. 'That sounds like a 'him' problem.'
"It is. So, I'm making it a 'you' problem as well."
"(￣ヘ￣)" 'Unfair…'
"Tough."
They lapsed back into silence, Cass still pouting as she spun, now stationary, in her chair, and Bruce still working. He was more than content to leave it like that. Truthfully, it was a halfhearted punishment. Just meant to curb some of Cass' pent-up 'enthusiasm' so it wouldn't be released upon the people of Gotham. Not even the rogues deserved that… If only there were another, perhaps more productive, way to exercise Cass' chronically mischievous energy…
Then, all at once, the Batcomputer warned of an intrusion to the Batcave, and a new voice graced the cavern, "Are we interrupting something?"
Bruce, unaware that his reaction mimicked his biological son's reaction, didn't even turn, "Sean. You are. Slightly. But if you're willing to take Cass off my hands and keep her out of trouble, I'll forgive you."
"٩(◕‿◕.)۶" Cass cheered. 'Yes~! Sean~! Save me~!'
"Well, isn't that fortuitous?" Sean chuckled. "I don't know about keeping her completely out of trouble. That sounds like an impossible task where Cass is concerned… But I do have a way to make sure any trouble she makes won't come back to bother you, Bruce, my friend."
"I'll take it," Bruce said flatly. "What did you have in mind?"
"Didi and I are going on our next vacation already," Sean explained. "We're taking Alice. But I'm also planning on taking some of your children — Barbara, Jason, Damian, and Cass, of course — along for the ride. They'll be firmly out of your hair and given the break that they really do deserve. Would that be agreeable to you?"
"Hm," Bruce hummed. "How long would they be gone?"
"Not long at all, thanks to time fuckery between different worlds, I'll guarantee that much," Sean said. "Didi and I will be back in time to open up the bar tonight, not gone a whole week like the first time."
"… An acceptably short disruption," Bruce nodded. "And where would they be going?"
"Oh, just a little world called Remnant," Sean answered with a wave. "It's a modern world with little in the way of danger for fighters of their skill. The local shadow demon-beasts will be good exercise, good tribulations for them, not existential threats. And I'll personally ensure they have all of the tools they need to thrive and grow during their time there, Bruce. I promise."
"A vacation would be good for them…" Bruce considered.
"A change of pace, most of all," Sean nodded. "They'll still be using their usual skills, just in a different situation. It'll be a new experience, but good for them. And they'll be back before you know it."
"(´·ω· ` )" Cass pleaded. 'Please, Dad~? I'll double my grounding when we get back!'
"Agreed," Bruce gave her a stern nod. "You will. So until then, have fun, and do me a favor… Tire yourself out, Cassandra. Barbara, take the chance to relax. Jason… find yourself. I'm proud of you. Damian, you're the responsible one, the dutiful one. Look out for your siblings. You all have my permission to go."
From within Sean's van, his children's reactions were a balm to Bruce's soul.
Barbara sputtered, "Damian's the responsible one-?!"
Jason grumbled halfheartedly, "Like I need your permission…"
And Damian just nodded seriously, "You can rely upon me, Father."
"＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )／" Cass whooped. 'Wooo~! Vacay, baby~!'
She was quick to hop into Sean's van. With a nod from Sean, they were off. Once they were gone, Bruce nodded to himself, "… It seems an opening on the front lines has just appeared. A single night won't hurt things. I need some exercise of my own, anyway… A break from busywork, a return to old times. Tim and Dick should be pleasantly surprised."
IIIII
— Sean —
After collecting all of the Bat kids we were taking for this trip, I returned to the Dead End to pick up Alice and Didi as well. The 'kids' settled in the back, and Didi slid into the front next to me. Didi and I shared smiles as Alice grumbled a greeting to Cass behind us.
"Homewrecker."
"( ´ ω ` )ノﾞ" Cass waved back and corrected her. 'Never. I could never really get between Didi and Daddy. Unless~…'
Alice scoffed but greeted the others more fondly, "Hey, Barbara, Damian. Hi, uh… Hey, Jason…"
Barbara nudged him with a grin, and Jason took a moment to glare at her before turning back to Alice, suddenly all smiles, "Hey, Alice. Excited?"
"With Dad? Yeah," Alice giggled. "And terrified. But, like, in a fun way."
Jason chuckled, "Yeah, I totally get what you mean."
"Alright!" I called back to all of them. "Seatbelts, everyone! There are no speed limits in the Void Between, so we'll be going pedal to the metal! Just don't stare too hard into the Abyss. It does, in fact, stare back."
"Sean…? What does that mean?" Barbara stressed, half sounding like she desperately wanted to know, and half sounding like she didn't want to be told. Ever.
"Don't worry about it!" I laughed, slamming the van into motion as I did.
We peeled off through a hole in reality and straight into the Void Between. There, we sped along until I found our destination. With mortals in the backseat, I really couldn't take my time between realities. In and out was best. With another well-placed hole in reality, we appeared on a world with a broken moon overhead.
Immediately upon our arrival — mine, specifically — something shifted. I'd lived a life on Remnant once. I was living a life on Remnant now. Instead of arriving in the past of the same timeline I knew as Didi and I had for our first vacation, here we'd arrived in a world directly parallel to the one I'd already lived in. Everything was the same as my past life on Remnant, but now, my past alternate and my current self superimposed upon each other.
I slotted easily into the life I was already living here. Reality settled the paradox naturally, so there wouldn't be two Seans running around. The moment of complicated metaphysics passed as quickly as I blinked. The only evidence of the resolved paradox was the ringing scroll native to Remnant that suddenly appeared in my hand.
Still, Didi felt something, glancing at me with a question, "Alright, Dear?"
"Yeah, uh… yeah… I think I need to take this call, though," I answered with a small, amused shake of my head.
"Local or long-distance?" Didi tittered behind her hand.
"Local, surprisingly enough. My sister here… Ah, yes," I nodded in recognition. "I think I remember this call."
I picked up the scroll, "Yello'~? Juniper?"
"Sean! Thank the gods! It's bad, Sean, it's so bad! You have to help me!" Juniper's voice on the other side was frantic.
"Calm down, sis. Deep breaths. Is Nicolas okay?"
"H-He's fine."
"The girls?"
"The same, but more distraught. It's my boy, Sean!"
"I gathered that much. What has Jaune done now? Broken his first heart so badly that the yandere aftermath is washing over the entire family?"
"Wha-? Sean, no. Don't bring that evil onto me. He's run off to be a Hunter. Just up and left in the middle of the night with Crocea Mors and barely a thought in his handsome little head."
"Heh, that does sound like Jaune."
"I need you to find him, Sean. Find him and talk some sense into him. At the very least, get him to answer our calls. He'll undoubtedly end up at Beacon. I was hoping you could use your connections there to look out for him…?"
"I can certainly do that for my favorite nephew. But I'll warn you now, dear sister. I won't force him to come home. He's nearly a man grown. You have to let him make his own mistakes and learn his own lessons. I'll look out for him, but be prepared to recognize that it might be his time to step out of the nest."
"Then-…! Then I'll just have to come there myself! This might be his first step into the real world, but I'll be a damned bad mother if I let him do it without a packed lunch, a hug, and confirmation that, yes, I do believe in him!"
"Ah, I see… The worst part about this is that he left without saying goodbye, isn't it?"
"… Middle of the night, Sean. The twins went to wake him up in the morning and found an empty bed. Little Amber asked for him at breakfast, and we just had to tell her hewas gone…! And he hasn't answered my calls, or Coral's texts, or even Lavender's me-mes!"
"Memes, Juniper. I know you know better. That… is concerning, though. I'll give him a decent talking to in preparation, but I'll leave the real verbal lashing to you. So don't be too long coming to see us in Vale, alright? And do bring the whole family, won't you? I may or may not have someone to introduce you all to. Would you like to say hi, my Death?"
"Hello, Juniper Caine-Arc. It's a pleasure to meet you. Hopefully, we can meet more thoroughly soon," Didi joined the conversation, leaning on my shoulder to speak into the scroll.
"H-Hello…?" Instantly, Juniper was caught off balance. "'My Death', Sean…? Sean?! Do I hear goth nieces and nephews in my hopefully near future?!"
"You'll have to come to Vale to find out for yourself, dear sister," I chuckled. "Until then~…"
Juniper's excited squeal echoed for only a moment before I hung up the scroll. I turned around to the 'kids' in the backseat, "Alright! Who wants to find my nephew, give him a good talking to, and likely enroll in 'not-magic' demon Hunter school in the process?"
All five of them were looking at me oddly, as if the scroll call that just passed didn't quite make sense to them. But Cass' agreeable shrug got things moving again.
"┐(￣∀￣)┌" 'Eh, yeah, I could go for some 'not-magic' demon hunting~!'
IIIII
[AN: So, I purposefully avoided giving Cass a POV section. Idk, I feel like it kinda ruins the magic of her character. She's someone to experience but not 'understand', if that makes any sense.
Also, I feel like the Sean-RWBY situation could use a WoG explanation. It's a parallel RWBY 'verse to the one Sean lived in, but it was created by him coming back for this vacation in this way. There isn't an infinite number of alternate Seans on Endless Reincarnating Journeys. His coming back for the vacation split off this RWBY 'verse to a parallel timeline where the current Sean and the RWBY Sean merged. His first RWBY life is unaffected, but he gets to revisit that life's situation. By that, I mean he's still Jaune's uncle and still has his history in RWBY for the vacay arc. It's all kinda complicated but relatively simple in results, essentially just ensuring Sean has the background in RWBY that he had before.
All that said, let the RWBY vacay arc commence!]
[P.S. Just tell me I'm wrong about Miss Frizzle, though… Smash. In a heartbeat. For 'education's' sake.]