Batjokes Oneshots

2. Telltaleverse

Did John have a birthday?

It was the question that had been on Bruce's mind for a while now. Obviously he had a birthday. Everyone did. But did John know when it was? It was clear his memory of anything before Arkham was nonexistent – the name on his medical file was John Doe, after all – so there was a very big chance he had no idea when his birthday was.

John had a tendency to get defensive when asked about his personal life – most likely because he could remember so little and it was embarrassing – so Bruce had held off on the questions when he first moved into the mansion. But now John had been living at the Wayne estate for a few months. Surely it would be okay to ask now...? After all, how was he supposed to spoil his boyfriend with the best birthday ever when he didn't even know when it was?

  It was over dinner one evening that Bruce decided to risk it. John seemed to be in a good mood. He had been telling Bruce about how he spent the afternoon with Alfred, learning the intricacies of 'butlering' while Bruce was working. John's words, not Alfred's. 

  "Hey, John?"

  John looked up, smiling. "What's up, buddy?"

  "Can I ask you something?" Bruce asked.

  "Sure. What's on your mind?"

  Here goes nothing. "I was just wondering... When's your birthday?"

The silence that fell over the room dropped like a punch to the gut. Instantly, Bruce knew he had screwed up by the way John froze in place, face blanking the way it always did when he couldn't remember something.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Bruce immediately backtracked. "I didn't mean to--"

"You didn't mean to pry," John said flatly. His gaze fell down to his lap. "No, I-I get it. It's fine."

Bruce felt his heart sink like a rock. It was never fine if John said it was fine.

"John, listen, I'm--"

"I'm gonna take a walk," John blurted, abruptly standing from the table, causing the silverware to rattle. "I need some air."

"John--"

But he was already gone, practically running from the dining room. Bruce exhaled sharply, burying his face in his hands. So much for the old Wayne charm. He had royally screwed up and now he didn't know how to fix things. Could he even fix things?

John already balanced on such a delicate precipice all of the time. It was so easy to push him over the edge and then ten times harder to pull him back from the depths. Sometimes, it felt like fighting a losing battle.

But John was worth it. John was worth it a hundred times over. Bruce loved him, more than he had ever loved anyone, and he desperately wanted to make things right. Right now, however, Bruce knew it would be better if he left John alone for a while, to give him time to calm down. Then, he would be more receptive to hearing Bruce's apology.

Not that that made the waiting any less agonizing.

/ /

  About an hour had passed and Bruce figured he had waited long enough. Besides, he still had to find John. The man's talent of disappearing could put Batman to shame.

  So, the first place Bruce looked was in John's room. No luck. Next, he tried his own room. Nothing. Then, remembering how John had said he'd needed some air, Bruce decided to check the garden outside on the back of the estate.

There, Bruce found John. Not sitting on a porch swing or leaning against a tree, but lying flat on his back in the middle of the lawn. Bruce couldn't help but smile. It was so completely and utterly John.