Super Sons One-Shots

Saving Grace Part 2

A/N: It's finally here!
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"Hey, dad?" Grace said, walking over to Jon and taking her hands out of her pockets. "It's happening again." Jon looked down at his fifteen year old daughter, who looked back up at him in fear.
"Okay," he said, taking her hands and holding them, kneeling down in front of her. "I'm right here. Just ride it out, honey." Grace nodded and closed her eyes. Jon watched her intently as her grip on his hands tightened, her face wrenching into a grimace. Her hands started shaking, he held them more firmly. Damian walked in, putting on a fresh shirt after getting out of the shower.
"Is it happening again?" he asked.
"Yep," Jon sighed, not looking away from Grace.
"That's the third time this week," Damian commented, sitting down beside Jon and crossing his legs. "She's getting worse."
"Should we take her in?"
"The League will never let us keep her if we do. But...maybe that would be a good thing."
"No, Damian, don't start this again."
"We're her parents. We're supposed to prevent this sort of thing."
"It's not our fault-"
"Who else's is it then?" Jon looked over at Damian, his husband's face as emotionless as always.
"No one's. Sometimes these things just happen."
"She's scared of me, Jon. Ever since I talked with her about who I was. I've tried to be different. I've tried to be better." He stared at Grace, brushing her short, unevely cut raven hair back out of her face and behind her ear. "But if she doesn't believe I'm any better...then all of what I've done is for nothing."
"It's only been a couple weeks," Jon said comfortingly. "She'll come around." Damian sighed and looked away.
"I spent all that time scared of hurting her," he mumbled. "Now, she's scared of me hurting her...and I remember why I didn't want to touch her. It's because I'm dangerous."
"You are not," Jon said. "You're a hero."
"Not to her." Damian got up. "Not anymore." He turned and walked away, leaving Jon to handle Grace as she snapped out of her trance sobbing.

Grace had secrets. Some she told one of her dads, few she told both, most she told neither. Her dads obviously knew about her superpowers, her healing factor, and her episodes. Jon-dad knew about how to take care of her during and after said episodes, and what they were like. (It was like bees filled her head, stinging and buzzing. She knew how to fight them, but it was still painful and disconcerting.) He also knew her favorite foods, her favorite song, and how much she loved to play puzzle games. Damian-father knew about how she always hit on boys who cat-called her and her friends until they cowered just to give them a taste of their own medicine, how she kissed a boy and liked it, and how she kissed that boy's girlfriend and liked it just as much. He knew about why she beat up Derrick Rose and got suspended for it. (He had groped Elise Powell, her best friend, to try and "straighten her out." Worth it.) He knew how to get her to calm down when she was angry, and all of the names of the plants she kept in her room. He knew that despite the fact that she came off as rough and tough, she loved rabbits, and had two of them named Sugar and Spice. Neither of them knew that she had access to the Justice League's central computer, that she went out at night while they were on patrol to go jump the trains full of fruit shipments coming into Gotham and eat whatever's inside with her friends, that she texted her Uncle Dick every night, and that she was actually a he. Grace was trans, and he didn't want his parents finding out. They were always "so proud of their girl" and "loved their daughter more than anything," and he didn't want to lose their favor, even if it meant he hid from them. He hid it from everyone. No one knew, except him. As much as he hated it...it was better for everyone. He was glad his dads were so understanding. They let him cut his hair short and wear sports bras all the time, which were almost as good as binders. They didn't care what he wore, which also helped. But...they didn't know. Not really. He was waiting for the right time to tell them, but...he never could. So he had to be she whenever anyone else was around.

Jon knocked on Grace's door, leaning on it.
"Hey, pretty girl," he said. "Can we talk?"
"Yeah," Grace sighed, getting up and walking to the door, the weight of her chest and the lack of it in her crotch feeling more obvious than ever. She opened it and looked up at her clueless, yet caring dad. "What's up, dad?"
"We're going on a family trip," Jon said. "We'll only be gone a few days."
"When are we leaving?" Grace asked, a little concerned. They didn't have the money for family trips, she knew that. Something had to be going on. Did her father fuck shit up again? She scowled at the thought. Why her dad had fallen for him she didn't understand. How could anyone love a murderer?
"Tonight," he said. "I know it's short notice, but what we're dealing with needs to be handled."
"Do I have to go?" Grace whined, shifting her weight.
"Yes," Jon said. "We already called school. You're excused. So, pack a bag, get ready. We'll eat dinner and leave."
"Yeah, okay," Grace sighed, turning and heading back inside her room.
"Hey, sweetie," Jon said, stopping her door before she could close it. "Just know your father and I both love you. A lot."
"I know you do," she said. "But he never did." She closed the door again before he could say anything else. She sighed a deep sigh and leaned back on the door. She covered her face with her hands and slid down to sit. Her father is trash and her dad is oblivious. And now, a family trip. With both of them. Fuck fuck fuck.