This is a long one. Strap in!
Sorry for any errors, this week has been super busy for me, so I didn't have much time to review it.
—
"Good morning everyone. Let's discuss what will be happening this week."
Bruce's voice boomed through the kitchen louder than everyone else's, as per usual. All the Batkids sat in the kitchen, listening intently to what their father had to say.
"I'm going to be taking the boys out on a secret mission for a few days. (Y/N), you'll be staying here with Alfred. I'll give the rest of you more details about the mission this evening."
(Y/N) crossed her arms in irritation and jealousy. Of course it was because she wanted to go with them, but even if the others thought she wasn't ready, why couldn't she at least know about what was happening?
"Maybe you can finally solve your gun problem, Jay," Tim smirked, taking a bite of his food.
"Ugh, I hope so!" Jason complained through a mouthful of egg, "I got some new ones today. I swear if anything happens to them—"
Dick cleared his throat, "Anyway, how are you, (Y/N)? Excited to have the whole place to yourself?"
"Delighted," she responded nonchalantly.
All the boys were silent for a moment, before Dick said, "Okay, seriously, I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not—"
"My little brother gets to go on missions, but I don't?" she exploded, then narrowed her eyes and said in a hushed voice, "That's whack."
Tim snorted at her word choice as Damian smirked proudly.
"It's not funny!" the girl blushed. She shot up and stormed off to her room, mumbling something about boys being stupid.
While the boys all felt a little bad for her, she took pride in the fact that it had all been acting; well, yes, she was upset, but not that much. She just wanted an excuse to sneak away into Jason's room and see the guns for herself. Sure enough, a sparkling, pristine box full of guns lay in the middle of his floor. This made her wish she could sink into her grave right then and there—was she ever going to win this battle?
It was time for her to think of something drastic. She needed a plan so humiliating, so vile, that Jason had to stop buying guns or else he'd go crazy. And what was one thing her brother hated? Anything that had a soft and sweet connotation behind it.
Thus, it was time for (Y/N) to go all out and have as much fun with this punishment as she could. After her father and brothers left to catch a plane in the late afternoon, she went to the store with a handful of money. Grabbing all sorts of special gadgets, she made sure she wouldn't reveal this surprise to anyone. It was much too rich.
"That'll be $11.56, please," the lady at the counter said, "So, are you having a party?"
(Y/N) plastered on an evil grin, "Something like that."
The woman watched her walk away with a bag that was almost too big for her small frame and shook her head.
"I swear, thirteen year olds are the scariest people in the world."
***
The second day of her family being gone consisted of her breaking all the rules she could; she set her feet on the counter, walked around with shoes on, and performed somersaults in the kitchen (all while Alfred was busy doing something else, of course). Most of all, however, she was going out after dark to meet someone and trade goods.
After she clad herself in all black, she made sure to blend into the walls. Once she bumped into the person she was looking for, she asked, "You got the stuff?"
"Like I've ever forgotten!"
She beamed upon seeing the bag's contents: a plethora of toy guns; she pulled down her mask, "Thanks, Jon."
"'Course! Anything for a friend," the son of Superman smiled back at her, "Though I don't understand why we have to wear these—"
The girl put a finger to his mouth stoically, "Trust the process."
"You're an interest one, (Y/N)."
"Y'know, I've been getting that a lot recently."
The two parted ways, (Y/N) making sure that Jon wouldn't text Damian about the event before he got home. As she turned in for the night, she held the toy guns to her chest, excited for what would await her.
***
It was the third day of her brothers' absence; finally, she could put her plan into action. Sneaking into the Batcave, she poured everything out of her boxes and bags and got to work.
First, she took a can of spray paint and colored the toy guns so that they looked like regular guns. She hung them up to dry after she checked that the insides were either nerf bullets or pop guns.
Then, she rigged the real guns so that they spouted strange things when the trigger was pulled. Some had music boxes in them, others had tanks of water, etc. Once that was done, she cleaned the paint splatters off the cave's floor and switched out the real guns for the fake or rigged ones; she lugged the box of weapons down the stairs and threw them in the garbage can one last time. After that, all that was left to do was to await her family's return.
***
Bruce and the boys came home about two days after (Y/N) rigged everything. The anticipation was practically killing her, plus she missed them. As soon as the door opened she was rushing down the stairs, eager to jump into her father's arms. He grunted a bit, but regained his balance.
"You're lucky you're my favorite," he said, knowing it would induce a fight among the others. (Y/N) smiled, happy to be with her family again.
"How was staying with Alfred?" her father asked.
"It was great—I got to do whatever I wanted as long as he wasn't around. Besides, it's nice hanging out with Alfred. He's the only normal person in this family."
He raised an eyebrow, "Well, I'm glad you had fun. What rules did you break, though?"
"Oh, you'll see. Nothing too drastic, but you will see."
She gave her evilest smirk, and Dick responded, "Uh, yeah. Make sure to remind me not to let you become a villain."
That night, as Jason grabbed his new 'guns', (Y/N) headed off to bed. After insuring she was safe in her room ("Damian, why are you peering through the crack of my door?"), Damian rushed his older brother out of the house; he was much too excited to get back into action.
"Move your fat butt, Todd!" the boy pushed him.
"Okay, okay—I'm going! Jesus."
The two leapt into the action of the Gotham City streets. Nothing all that major happened besides them bumping into two of Joker's goons. Both of them grinned devilishly.
"You wanna take these guys, kid?" Jason asked.
"I'd be happy to," Damian responded, lunging at one of the men with his sword. His older brother followed, wiping a gun out in front of him. Shockingly, when he pulled the trigger, a bubble flew out.
The young man groaned, "You've gotta be kidding me."
"Hurry it up, Red Hood!" Robin yelled, already knocking one of the bad guys unconscious.
"I'm trying, just—just gimme a sec!"
Jason fiddled with his guns anxiously as he pulled another out. This time, water came out and shot one of the men in the face.
"Goddamnit!" he cried out as the goon patted his face in confusion.
He pulled out another gun and shot it—paint splattered everywhere, catching Damian in the eye.
"Hood!" he screeched, "I am going to destroy you after this!"
"Why don't you help me destroy the incompetent worker who keeps selling me these damn things!"
This went on for about five minutes or so—Jason would pull out another gun just for it to shoot a strange substance. Damian would chide him, then it'd happen all over again. The final straw came when another trigger was pulled, and the gun started singing My Little Pony. Everyone in the vicinity paused; even Damian and the last goon stopped their battle.
"Oh, fuck this," Jason complained, throwing his gun to the side.
His little brother growled, hitting the goon with his elbow and making him unconscious. He then sprinted over to Jason and punched him in the gut.
"Ow! You brat, don't you get it? This wasn't my fault!"
"Have the courtesy to check you weapons next time!" he tutted, "I'm going home."
"Right behind ya'."
***
The brothers returned home, both looking extremely agitated. When Tim turned around in his seat, he asked, "Damn. What happened to you two?"
They both yelled over each other, saying something about 'fake guns' and 'stupidity' and 'murdering the cashier'. The teen sighed and put up a hand to stop them.
"Alright, alright. You guys can complain about whatever happened all you want later, but right now, I'm trying to fix this. Long as your not dying or fatally wounded, I don't care."
If they lived in a cartoon world, there would be steam pouring out of Jason's ears. He trudged into mat room.
"Dick!" his voices boomed through the walls.
"Geez, you don't have to yell, I'm right here," the eldest brother rubbed his ear, "What's up?"
"Spar."
Dick took the hint, complying without saying a word. The two wrestled silently for a while before Jason spoke up.
"I can't believe this shit!"
"What?"
"My guns were fucked up again. I can't even—why does this keep happening to me? Like, what the fuck! I'll kill whoever fuckin'—"
"Okay, I get it, you swear like a sailor."
He growled, "Whatever."
"Don't be such a sourpuss," Dick landed a kick, sweeping Jason's legs out from under him, "Tim's getting the camera's up right now. He should be done any—"
"I did it!" Tim ran into the room and cheered, then fell to the ground, "I finally did it."
"Speak of the devil," Jason rolled his eyes as Dick lended him a hand up and raised an eyebrow.
"Are you alright, Baby Bird?"
"I haven't slept in 192 hours," he mumbled into the floor, "Anyway, you can go watch what happened to your guns."
"Bold of you to assume we know how to work the system," the eldest joked, slinging him over his shoulder.
The teen sighed reluctantly, "I'll do it."
As (Y/N) slept contently in her room, her siblings reviewed the footage from Jason's room ever since he began having issues with his guns. They all watched in amusement and surprise—save for Jason who was livid—as their sister schemed and ultimately made her brother's life his personal living hell. Even Bruce joined in once he heard the loud yelling of his sons.
"What's going on?" he asked, about to suit up to be Batman.
"Just watch," Dick replied, wiping the tears from his laughter.
Jason exploded, "Guys, this isn't funny! She destroyed my stuff! Do you know how expensive this was?"
Bruce put a hand on his shoulder, "Son, we're millionaires. Besides, I'm sure she wasn't doing it to be mean. You can see the look on her face; she was probably shocked and scared because for one, she had no idea about it, and two, we have a rule against killing."
A pointed look was shot his way, and the young man said defensively, "I didn't kill anyone! And sure, fine, you're right. But I can still be pissed."
It was then that (Y/N) conveniently stormed into the room. With a blanket wrapped around her tiny frame, she scolded, "Can you guys shut up? It's 4 AM! Some of us have a normal sleep schedule."
"You know, you aren't very threatening," Tim raised an eyebrow, his eyelids drooping. Jason, however, was silent. He frowned and pointed at her.
"You."
The young man ran to get to her, but he was held back by his father and his brothers. He shouted, "You're lucky you're my sister, otherwise I'd kill you right now!"
She rolled her eyes and responded in a monotone voice, "Okay, what'd I do this time?"
Tim played back the video for her and she froze, realizing that yes, her brother was most likely going to annihilate her.
"Why?" he shouted, "I've been getting beat to a pulp for the past two weeks because of this!"
Dick crossed his arms, "Yeah, Little Birdie, explain. You shouldn't be going around and messing with other people's stuff."
The girl sighed, "Listen, I know it was wrong of me to do that; I should've just confronted you and blah, blah, blah. So I'm sorry. But I only did it because I was scared for you, Jay Jay. I didn't...I didn't want you to go down a dark path, okay?"
Jason's stance immediately became relaxed, and he let his eyes soften.
"Shit, kid, I'm sorry, too—that was pretty fuckin' stupid of you, though."
Bruce glared at him, then added on, "I can assure you, Jason isn't going to be going down any 'dark paths' any time soon. We've made countless deals with him, and we've made sure that there's nothing too harmful in his guns; most of them are filled with rubber bullets. Your brother is just fine, (Y/N)."
The girl smiled, "Yeah, okay."
The family stood in an awkward silence, unsure of what to do next. But as always, big brother Dickie came to save the day.
"Group hug!" he yelled, pulling everyone into his arms.
"Jesus, Dick, why?" Jason groaned.
"You act like you're four!" Damian belittled him.
"I want to sleep!" (Y/N) whined.
Tim groaned as Bruce simply stayed silent and complied to the hug. They only hugged for a few seconds or so, but it was enough for everyone understand that they were family, and that everything was okay.
"Hey, Jay?" (Y/N) asked quietly.
"Yeah?" he responded into Dick's shoulder.
"I don't regret it one bit."
The rest of the night consisted of Jason chasing around a tired (Y/N), shooting at her with guns filled with bubbles and water.