16284/Lean on your Family

Lean on your Family
Date of Scene:	08 November 2023
Location:	Family Room - Wayne Manor
Synopsis:	Phoebe and Damian take some time in the family room. Phoebe heals Damian's injuries from his three days in captivity, and they both provide good mental health support to one another.
Cast of Characters:	Damian Wayne, Phoebe Beacon

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Damian Wayne has posed:
Bath. Damian Wayne so needed a bath. Even when he was injured, he went to the shower, spent thirty minutes there. Then soaked in the tub for nearly an hour and a half. Then another shower, just to make sure all of the gross is off of him.

Dressed in a pair of pajamas and a terry-cloth robe, he's gingerly making his way into the family room, his hand resting on the right side of his rib cage, just underneath his armpit.

In his other hand is the latest chapter of 'Art School of the Heart', the manga that he has every other chapter of. He clearly had planned to sit and rest and read.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe, meanwhile, had returned to her apartment to make sure Essix was all right, then to the Lake House to return Essix home, and finally back to the manor where she had loosened her braids and showered, oiled her hair, tucked everything up in a satin cap, changed into pajamas, and was making her way towards the library when she spotted Damian.

    So she leans against the doorframe, in that small liminal space, wearing PJ pants with corgis in various yoga poses and a T-shirt promoting a Mexican metal band and a sweatshirt that definitely might have been Tim's at one point -- and comfortable looking plaid slippers.

    "Hey, how you feeling?" she asks Damian, waiting to be invited into his space.

Damian Wayne has posed:
There's a momentary surprised. If Phoebe is spending the night at the Manor... "Is everything alright?" Damian asks her curiously. And when sDamian asks how he feels, his lips pull down at the edges in a frown.

"Like I spent three days in a gorilla enclosure. But the gorillas would have been cleaner." he grouses slightly. "Pyg and his Circus have very little in sanitary conditions. And spending three days bounded up in that brutes room as she made disgusting overtures is not how I wanted to spend my time."

But he finally realizes, she's asking about his condition. "I believe I have two broken ribs. And a concussion from where I was originally attacked." he admits. "I did not expect Pyg to have his subordinates present."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Just got out of the shower in my room, needed to walk around to cool down before I could sleep." in spite of the fact that she doesn't have a coded bedroom, she does sleep in the manor most nights. It's arsenic green. All her bedrooms are color-coded.

    "That's why Idu and Potato are both currently snoring upstairs. If you're quiet, you can you can maybe near Potato snoring through the vents."

    You can't. It's a big house.

    She enters in, and gives a huff as she sits down near Damian.

    "Makes sense. She didn't seem like she was the most gentle of people on a good day." she replies, and gives an upnod to him. "Do you want me to fix those?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
Damian decides he can read the manga later. Setting it aside, he gives a nod of agreement. "I would appreciate it." he responds affirmatively as he doesn't actually listen for Potato, for said big house reason.

"No. None of them were. I might've been able to escape, but I didn't have the numbers to take them down and rescue the hostages. I could only hope that Father's contingency would kick in when one of us does not report in."

"I'll need to find a way to thank those that assisted me and the students." With that, he looks thoughtful and chews on his lip.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a nod.

    "I've set up an alert for when Lindsay comes to. She's probably going to be out of class for a while, so I'll grab her assignments and take them to her as she's in recovery." Phoebe states. She takes a deep breath, and lets it out.

    "It's harder when it hits someone you know. I don't think I was ever going to be prepared for that." she admits, and sits up against the arm of the sofa, and then gives a huff. "It works better if you're leaning back against me I've fond. I have to have both hands to make a circut for one person, unless I want to try to unbind my aura. But I *know* Zatanna's put wards up over the property."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"She will get better in time." That's Damian being optimistic that Lindsay will recover just fine! "She may need some reconstructive surgery and therapy." And there's that shrug, but then he's turning his attention to Phoebe and he arches a brow.

"Are you asking for cuddles?" It's asked halfway teasingly. "I'm not sure your beau would approve. But if you say it works better that way..." He rises up, taking off the robe. Cotton pajamas beneath - it's starting to get a little cooler in the house with the change in the weather.

Sitting back down, he moves, settling against Phoebe, his back to her front. "Speaking of beau, I told you that Gabby is coming for Thanksgiving, right?" he asks curiously. "I should give thought to what to get her for Christmas..." though he pauses, and shakes his head. "Too far in the future."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe flatly replies: "I am not asking you for cuddles. There's a fifty-fifty chance you'd just stab me to test my reactions." Phoebe comments to Damian.

    "Besides, with the Heals I'm always the big spoon. Unless you're bleeding out on my operation table at the Curio in which case I'm desperately flooding you with magic to see if I can close up as many wounds as possible. And Robbie would be fine with it. You're my brother, and this is business." she tacks on. "Try doing this in a Mustang with bucket seats with Jason sometime. That was awkward." she murmurs, and she huffs, leaning back and she gives a loose hug to Damian.

    She breathes out, hand her hands give a soft glow. She's been told that the healing magic often feels like cool water and the feeling of your leg falling asleep as the nerves shut down to stop you from feeling the wounds healing. A warm, pleasant buzzing sensation.

    Or, with one person, an ice pick to their lower skull. But that was extrenuating circumstances.

    "You did. And Gabby would like anything you gave her for Christmas. She's pretty easy. I usually bake her cookies or get her a ridiculous winter hat or something. Mittens. She likes cute stuff, but like... ironic cute things?" Phoebe considers. "She would probably love a two-headed zombie pig plushie."

Damian Wayne has posed:
As he leans against Phoebe, she can feel Damian stiffen. Hugs are still new to him. "I successfully survived hugging my Mother." he states. "As well as being in physical contact with Gabby."

"I would rather gouge my eyes out with a spoon than sit like this with Jason." Said flatly, there's a momentary confused and then pleasant noise as Damian accepts the magic from Phoebe.

"I find it odd that Father puts so little in your abilities, but so much into a woman that is a pair of Bunny ears away from being a Playboy model." he comments dryly. "If he can trust her abilities, he should trust yours."

As Phoebe is rattling off ideas, Damian considers. "She told me on our last outting that she was considering replacing her motorcycle. I was just going to do that for her. It would be practical."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I've also gotten a hug from your mother. It was really awkward and I strongly suspected she was trying to figure out where to stab me to kill me." Phoebe states good naturedly, "I've also survived full-body tackle affection from Gabby. I don't do hugs. Most of the time. This is just the easiest way when /I'm/ tired." she explains.

    And then the question of what his father would think. Socially? Sure. She accepts Bruce Wayne as her 'adopted father'. She does not call him 'Dad' in private. She doesn't even really call him Bruce. It's usually sir. She's obedient and tries not to screw things up too much when she's on his time.

    "He hates magic with good reason. He can't do it. It's anathema to logic. You shouldn't be able to create something from nothing. To reset and knit bone within minutes and heal what should take weeks without the materials, without chemicals or the benefit of a Lazarus Pit." and she breathes out.

    "Tim doesn't like it either, but accepts i.... you should be nice to the women in your conversations." Phoebe states, tone going dry. "And the fact that I don't know to whom you're referring to is bothersome."

    And she gives a soft hum. "Replacing her motorcycle would be pretty worthy. She'll need one with a smaller wheelbase since she's built short to the ground."

Damian Wayne has posed:
Damian nods enthusiastically, showing some animation to himself - the magic must be working. "When Hana told Ren that she needed a set of paints that she could not afford, Ren took on a second job at night to save up the money to buy her the set as a gift." He holds up his manga. "She's supposed to receive them this Chapter." comes the explanation of why he has the book.

"He does not understand it because he has not experienced it long enough to realized that is around regardless of how much one tries to deny it. Between my time with my Mother and Grandfather, I have seen enough to have a healthy respect for the mystical arts, even if I cannot use them myself."

"I will try to show more respect in the future. My apologies." He's still learning, give him time. "And if you are tired, you should not be tending to my injuries. I wouldn't want to wear you down further."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "You're fine. This... this is what I like doing. More than anything else, is helping. Going into getting a medical degree? Working with other magics? All started with my ability to heal others. And trust me, it is totally worth the endorphine rush I get afterwards. The *hunger cravings* maybe not so much." Phoebe gives a wry smile. "Tim makes me really want oreos. When I replaced Vorpal's spleen and part of his liver? /Birthday Cake Flavored Items/. And the more I heal someone, the stronger the cravings get after a while. It's weird." Phoebe gives a small snerk.

    "And I'm more worried that I don't know to which woman you're attributing the bunny ears statement to."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Zatanna." Damian responds. "With the fishnets and the hat and..." he shakes his head. "I don't understand that costume. Other than it being for distraction. It does not offer an ease of access to magic." There's a small frown. "She is a powerful mage, there's just..." he shrugs. "I'll grasp it someday."

"Do not be surprised if I do not make you crave halva." he responds as she lists off the sweets that others she's healed made her crave. "Do you have to envision what you are doing, or is it like you simply do and it is a cure all type thing?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Ooooh..." Phoebe states, and she gives a soft snort of amusement. "Zatanna's my mentor for magic." Phoebe replies, "And the costume she wears on stage is distraction. What she fights in is different, and I've seen her fight. If I turn out to be half as strong as she is, once I come into my own? I should be feared indeed." Phoebe offers "I wear armor because Tim made me wear it. That was a condition of joining The Team -- probably because he didn't know I was able to heal and I got shot through the stomach. That's in general Really Bad for a fifteen-year-old." she replies.

    "Mmm. Halva. Pistachio and sugar and rosewater..." she trails off, "It's not always the favorite treat of the person. Sometimes it's random. One person I healed always left the taste of an ashtray in my mouth." she explains, "And when I put Dick's guts back inside his stomach, I was so panicked afterwards that I went to the Roost and ate four. Boxes. of Cheez-its."

    And there's a thoughtful hum.

    "The magic mostly knows what it's doing. It's like it runs through someone's body and goes 'oh, no, this wasn't like this twenty-four hours ago, we're just gonna stitch this back together and make it so it's never been broken' and then a broken femur is repaired. Bones produce more bloodcells. Kidneys and liver clear out drugs and poisons. Maladies of both magical and mundane origin clear out. Like colds, the flu -- my own immune system's so reliant on my magic that without it I'd probably be very sick."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Huh." Damian responds as he listens to how Phoebe ended up on the team and how magic works. "Tim is a nerd, if you explained it in the terms of Dungeons and Dragons, he'd grasp it." comes the dry retort. Not knowing what to do with his hands while Phoebe holds him, he settles on dropping them into his lap.

"I am trying to build better relations with my family. And friends." Not that he has many of those in his mind. "I will never be the popular one, like Tim, the charismatic one, like Dick, or the fun one, like Carrie, and I do not want to be like Stephanie. But Robin was always supposed to soften the mythos of Batman. To not make him as intimidating."

"I failed at that. That's why I stopped being Robin."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I can't explain how my magic works in D&D terms. I tried, but we came up with so many exceptions.... so... many exceptions." Phoebe breathes out, and she releases her hold on Damian. He may still tingle. Bruises are repaired. He'll probably still be tingly for a good half hour as the magic works its way out. "You're probably going to want to double your protein and calcium intake for the bone repair. You also had a lot of bruising. So maybe some vitamin K? Squash and mushrooms?" she ventures, her eyes narrowing a moment as she sits her arms over Damian's shoulders to rest them.

    "I grew up in the shadow of Robins. Gotham was the only home I'd never known, I have vague memories of what might have been Cypress or Paris, but no real connection." she explains. "So Dick was the first one I'd ever seen as Robin, on TV. Bright and smiling. And I remember noticing Robin didn't seem to get older. But the smiles changed. Jason wasn't Dick. He was angry, but not the same way. And he had to live up to the standard Dick set. Tim didn't. He saw that Batman needed the Robin to temper him. So he kinda blackmailed your father into giving him the position after Jason..." she pauses, and she sets her lips together a brief moment.

    "I think Jason is the reason why Austin and I aren't allowed to face the Big Name bad guys alone. Tim earned that right. And I don't think anyone could stop you from doing it." she leans back, sliding her arms off Damian's shoulders as she arches over the arm of the couch to stretch her back.

    "Robins were hurt and injured children who were going to go out and get hurt. Batman took them in, and made it less likely that they would die from it. That includes Carrie and Stephanie." she adds on.

    "I can't be a Robin. Your father came to me when I was still reeling from losing my second /and/ third adoptive dads within the span of a couple months. People I thought I was very close with, who I trusted and depended on. He saw that I had given control of my emotions to a being beyond humanity, and without emotions, without being able to really register how much it would hurt people. I let him adopt me, before I turned eighteen, so that... so that Caroline Beacon, who admitted she never loved me as her own child, wouldn't have to bury me in her husband's plot. She wouldn't have to deal with things if I didn't make it home."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"You don't want to be a Robin." Damian moves as soon as he's released and moves to the other side of the couch to settle in, moving into a cross-legged sitting position with his arms against the arm of the couch.

Phoebe mentions Jason, Damian doesn't. That's a bridge he's still working on. "You don't want to be a Robin because you're too mature to be a Robin. You understand what it is that we go through. You don't have that... youthful optimism that can lead into overconfidence." A small smile at that. "You're too practical to be a Robin." He really /is/ trying to compliment her.

"You have a family now. Father. Dick, Tim, Carrie, Stephanie... myself. We will all help you out as we can. Not to mention the extended family, as it were." he sighs and considers Phoebe. "You're a Wayne now. No matter the circumstance, that is who you are. And I... we all will keep you safe. Neither of us have a 'Dad'. But Father tries. Just as I do, you know. To be a sibling."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... I've had three dads. One used to make pancakes on Sunday morning while we sang Elton John." Phoebe states, and she wraps an arm around her leg. "During No Man's Land, when we lived in a tiny apartment on Tricorne, he'd play guitar and sing Beatles songs. Blackbird. Hey Prudence -- except he'd change the lyrics to Hey Phoebe. The second one..." Phoebe shifts her weight slightly. "Was arrogant and smart. He knew how to put me in place without making it feel like he was limiting me. But he wasn't Real. And nothing made me wanna die like looking into John Constantine's eyes and not seeing one ounce of recognition. And then Chas... disappeared." Phoebe states quietly. "And I almost got Tim killed in the process of getting him back. And that was the state your father found me in. So... he'll never be 'Dad'. Even if he wanted to be, which he doesn't." she picks at her sweatshirt a moment.

    "Chas, the last time we spoke, told me that no matter what name I carried, I'd always be his kid. He'd just called my magic, all my knowledge, /piecemeal/. I wasn't strong enough without holding Celestial Will inside my body to do anything. And then he called me childish, and abandoned me."

    Phoebe chews on her words a moment, and she looks to Damian.

    "I'm only a Wayne when it means taking the pressure off one of you to go to an event. Or to show at Wayne Enterprises. And Bruce makes sure I have the funding to play the rags-to-riches angle." Phoebe sets her chin on her knees, and wraps her other arm around her legs.

    "I wasn't too mature to be a Robin. I was too broken in the wrong ways, so I clipped my wings out of love in order to stay here. " Phoebe gives a soft snort.

    "You lose your innocence really quick working with magic, or you die."

Damian Wayne has posed:
Damian sighs for a moment, eyes cast down in thought. "How much of my history do you know? How much do you know from me, how much do you know from others?" he asks her curiously, studying his fingernails as if they held some secret there.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... I wonder how far I can make it in an assessment before you start lobing weapons at me." Phoebe considers, and it's almost playful in nature as she narrows her eyes, her chin still set on her knees.

    "You're the product of Talia and Bruce, you were born in an artificial womb, raised by Ra's al Ghul to be his heir which means you endured a lot of really difficult training without the benefit of having actual affection. You were fed a steady diet of propaganda and manipulation -- which I hold your mother partially responsible for, since she can't get out of Ra's's shadow either and she *has* threatened me for saying he's a bit rubbish. Your physical training and exposure to something that I haven't worked out yet has resulted in finer control over your body than anyone our age should really have outside exceptional individuals --"

    She holds up a hand:

    "which no doubt I expect you are exceptional for many reasons beyond that. Your arrival in Gotham threw things a bit out of whack because no one here knew you existed. You likely identify and like the company of animals more because you're an introvert with CPTSD having grown up in an abusive environment dealing with narcissism and gaslighting from your maternal side of the family. You have killed. As have I. And you found the constraints placed on you by your father to be difficult to work within at first and expressed anger focused both inward and outward as perfectionism, expecting everyone else to be your lesser and yourself their better regardless of how well you've known them, but you've escaped the fanaticism that infected y our mother and others of the Assassins that I've had the pleasure of meeting aquaintences of." she considers.

    "We bond well because you're from the al Ghul line and I have rudely had the expectations of thousands of years of ancestors set on my shoulders, we're both introverts, and we prefer the company of our pets to almost any other people." she fingerguns at Damian.

    "Also you were the first one to accept me as a Sister other than Tim."

Damian Wayne has posed:
There's only one of the decorative pillows thrown at Phoebe. And that's when she said that he wasn't exactly exceptional because he was exceptional. "A very good analysis. Already a detective." he responds, a small smile.

"There's a couple of blank spots. I was four when I was ordered to make my first kill." he explains. "The person was a captive of my Grandfathers. I was his executioner. He wanted me to get my first kill out of the way under his supervision so I would understand what it was that he was training me for."

"I was giving the finest training under the best masters. Weapons, fighting styles, languages, survival, culinary, any skill that I would need was drilled into me." Damian considers that for a moment. "...those that trained me were all murdered after I learned what I could from them. Drowned. By my Grandfather or Mother, to keep me a secret."

"When I was twelve, I started what was the Year of Blood. My test to prove I was worthy to be Grandfather's heir. I was sent with a group into a Temple to recover a scepter. I killed... many." he looks aside for a moment.

"Goliath was one of the members of a set of beasts that guarded the Scepter. They were all like him. He was the youngest. I slaughtered their number until he was the last."

"I was going to kill him. It would have been easy. He was just a cub. A pup."

If Phoebe looks up, she may notice his green eyes are watering, just a little. "I stopped myself. I saved him. Took him as a pet. That is... that is when I realized I could no longer be my Grandfather's shadow."

"In that, we are not alike. You passed your tests. I failed my last one." A cast glanced aside towards the barn where the dragon resides.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe reaches out with a foot, and just brushes her big toe at Damian's knee as he speaks. She had known a little about how Goliath came to be in Damian's possession -- she hadn't questioned it.

    "That must have been a startling realization, after all other forms of violence had been normalized for you." she replies gently, "an entire shift of paradigm, from what you thought was Certain, to an uncertain future." she considers quietly.

    "You must have been terrified."

Damian Wayne has posed:
Damian doesn't shy away or flinch from the touch. He's getting better at contact. Reaching up, he rubs at his eyes. Alfred must have not dusted yet.

"I continued to play the part. I didn't know when I would make my escape from the League. It was Mother, who sought to leverage me against Father when I arrived in Gotham that gave me opprotunity." he considers. "I am still not entirely sure if Mother made the realization to my Father because she was sure I would defect and protect her. Or because she had hoped Father would finally join her." he shrugs his shoulders. "It's in the past now."

"We have all been terrified. And we all have been through much. Yet. Despite all, we are still family. That is what it means to be a Wayne."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... you didn't fail your test. You failed your grandfather's expectations." Phoebe states quietly. "And then you chose your own way. You left behind what you were, what you knew, everything that your life had been to join into an unknown, chaotic element like the Bat Family. You took your opportunity, no longer a..." she brings one hand up, rolling her wrist "bargaining chip, not something to be molded into the perfect heir... but someone who you can grow into, and become better. Improve upon."

    Phoebe takes a deep breath.

    "Things may be in the past, but we'd be fools to say that it doesn't affect us still. There are times I want desperately to wake up in my tiny bedroom above the Laughing Magician bar, and come downstairs to see John on his usual chair with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and Chas fussing over the ash tray going everywhere with a laundry list of tasks to do, and not have to put on armor and be The Oriole another night. There's times I want to wake up to Charles Beacon lifting me from the couch and putting me in my actual bed because I waited up for him to come home. And... there are times I wish my biological family was still there, so that I could ask questions about my powers, my family, what Purpose we had as a village."

    She's quiet for a moment. She settles her gaze on Damian, and turns her head into her knees, hiding her face.

    "What do we do when we get so tired of it all? Balancing on every thread, Dams?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
There are times where Damian longs to have the approval of his grandfather. And know the true love of his mother. He can relate. So hard. He can't say that though, he's hit his quota for weakness showing.

Instead, Phoebe will feel a pair of arms come around her when she tucks her face into her knees. And Damian squeezes. A light, quick thing of an embrace.

A hug.

"We reweave the tapestry into each other and make something new, Pheebs."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe seems to stop.

    Phoebe is getting a hug. From Damian.

    Pheeb.exe has ceased functioning.

    "... goddamn it Damian that's good." she mutters into her knees, and then breathes out. "That is... that is really, really good. Damnit." she pauses, and she laughs until she starts coughing, and then she snorts in laughter, and then laughs even HARDER until she is threatening to shake herself apart.

    "But you're right, Little Brother. When we get tired, we weave the threads into make something new."

    She takes a deep breath to settle down, and rubs at her eyes with her palms. "How're your ribs feeling?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
Releasing Phoebe when she bursts into laughter, Damian is clearly confused. It was not the reaction he was expecting. And for a moment, he thinks he did something wrong. Eventually, he recovers.

"I will send you my bill for the therapy."

When she asks about the ribs, his hand reaches up to touch them. "They are tingly, as you said. I believe they are nearly healed, however." he gives a little nod of his head in approval.

"Thank you for that. And the talk."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Sorry... unexpected physical affection still throws me for a loop. I had to really, really fight off setting people on fire when they try to pinch my cheeks or touch my hair at events." Phoebe explains, clearly embarrassed about the laughter, the snorting, awful, shaking laughter.

    "Good, I'll send you my bill and we'll have Alfred talk to himself for two minutes before they cancel out." she gives a smile to Damian.

    "Yeah, they'll tingle a while. That's residual magic that's looking for other stuff to fix." she stretches her jaw. "And weirdly I do have the hankering for something pistachio. I think there's ice cream though." she states, and gives a head tilt towards the kitchens.

    "Wanna grab a couple of scoops before calling it quits for the night?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
"I'll probably still stab someone for unwanted contact." Damian admits with a small smirk. "I will keep my distance in the future. Promise." With that, he's hopping down off of the couch. "Some ice cream sounds good. I have some leftover baklava I can share as well. If it has not already been eaten." Because he realizes.

"It's been three days. I should contact Gabby, so she doesn't think that I have fled from our relationship. Again."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Eh, you're fine. You're my brother. There's like, six people who are allowed to do that and you're on the list, just didn't expect it. So it's you, Tim, Robbie, Gabby by nescesity because she wouldn't *stop* hugging me at one point..." Phoebe trails off.

    "Honestly wouldn't surprise me if she was camped outside the front door because she could smell the balkava." Phoebe comments with a slight grin.