Family Dinners - dpxdc
"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.
The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.
"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.
"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.
"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."
"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."
Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.
Ancients, that's so weird!
The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.
Wait. Family dinners?
He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.
"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.
"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.
From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.
"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"
"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"
"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."
"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."
The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.
Come on, Danny, recover!
"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."
"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?
"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."
"Costume? What do you mean?"
Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.
"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!
"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.
"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.
His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.
"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.
Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.
"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"
"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"
"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."
"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.
It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.
It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.
Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.
"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."
Once again, the whole table falls into silence.
"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"
"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"
"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."
Danny's grin freezes in place.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."
"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"
Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.
"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.
"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."
An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.
"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.
"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."
"What did happen?"
"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."
"How long in the future was it?"
"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.
Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"
"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."
"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."
"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"
"What?"
"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."
Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.
"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.
"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."
"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"
"Damian, stop—"
"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."
"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."
"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.
"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."
"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."
"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."
"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."
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hey remember that caramel-carmel Fake Script i was writing? yeah it's technically not done but i'm tired of tinkering with it so here it is! we'll just say it's a uhhhh uncovered partial script or somethin
this is not in any way official! it's a 100% unaffiliated fanwork & i am Just Fucking Around for Funsies
~
BARNABY: oh, I love carmul!
FRANK: [long, disgusted pause] …what?
BARNABY: Carmul! You know, those tasty little treats you’re holdin’!
FRANK: You mean caramel?
BARNABY: That’s what I said.
FRANK: [scoffs] No, you didn’t. You said carmul.
BARNABY: We’re sayin’ the same thing here.
FRANK: We absolutely are not!
JULIE: [giggles] You really aren’t.
BARNABY: Carmul, caramel, tomato, tomahto! What does it matter!
FRANK: [flustered, stammering] It - it matters! Julie, you agree with me, don’t you?
JULIE: Well… I don’t know, Frank! I think both are fun!
FRANK: You’re both wrong, then! Wally, you agree with me, don’t you?
WALLY: [hesitant] …I say carmul.
FRANK: No! Not you too! How could you poison him like this, Barnaby?
BARNABY: Don’t look at me! I’m innocent, honest!
FRANK: Ha! So you admit that carmul is the wrong pronunciation!
BARNABY: [groans] ah, geez… throw a dog a bone!
FRANK: I’d be delighted to if you’d just-
[distant yelp as Eddie trips off-screen]
FRANK: Eddie! Thank goodness, finally someone who can put an end to this debate!
EDDIE: [nervous laugh] Oh no, what did I stumble into this time?
BARNABY: Hold on a tic, Frank. Hey Ed, take this. What do you call that tasty treat?
EDDIE: [with a tinge of fear] A… caramel?
FRANK: [triumphant] a-HA!
SALLY: [approaching] Did someone mention carmul?
FRANK: AGH!
BARNABY: [delighted] Perfect timing, Sally!
SALLY: What, for a delicious morsel? Hand it over, thank you!
FRANK: You’re all wrong, and I’ll prove it! We’re going to go around the neighborhood and - wait. [under his breath] One two three four - [returns to normal volume] we’re taking this to Poppy’s!
BARNABY: Then Home, then Howdy, yeah yeah - might as well ask the daisies, too.
JULIE: Oooh, and the butterflies!
SALLY: While we’re at it, we should phone everyone in the book, just to get the widest audience input.
FRANK: [unamused] You all think you’re so funny.
EDDIE: Well, you gotta admit it’s… it’s…
[brief, tense pause. Eddie clears his throat]
EDDIE: It’s perfectly sensible!
[Frank makes an affronted noise]
FRANK: Poppy will see sense.
-
POPPY: I’d be delighted to have a cah-mehl, but I’m afraid it-
FRANK: [aghast, truly astonished] You’re joking. You have to be joking. CAH-MEHL? Does no one in this town have sense?! Besides Eddie, of course. And Julie - on a technicality.
EDDIE: [oddly pleased] Why thank you.
POPPY: My goodness, did- did I say it wrong?
BARNABY: [gleeful] Not in the least, Pops!
SALLY: As far as I’m concerned, you added an extra layer of… pizazz to the word. In fact, I may adjust my own pronunciation accordingly!
POPPY: [flustered] Oh, well, I didn’t - don’t change on my account -
SALLY: Take the compliment, Poppy.
POPPY: [meekly] Thank you.
[Sally wanders from the group, practicing the slightly adjusted pronunciation]
WALLY: I’m not sure I understand. What’s wrong with carmul or… care… mul… carmel…
POPPY: Don’t strain yourself dear, you’ll get a migraine.
FRANK: What’s wrong is that it’s ENTIRELY incorrect! It! Is! Pronounced! Caramel!
JULIE: Aww, Frank, I’m sure Home and Howdy will agree with us! Team Caramel, WOOO!
BARNABY: [barely restrained disbelief] Boy, won’t they!
POPPY: I’m not sure what the fuss is about… there isn’t much of a difference, is there?
[Frank makes a high pitched, frustrated noise and stomps off. He can be heard calling Home’s name in the background]
JULIE: Oop, there he goes!
POPPY: Oh - oh dear. I didn’t mean to rile him up.
BARNABY: Don’t twist your beak about it - Frank’s just bein’ Frank. Now if you’ll excuse us, I wanna see how it goes with Home.
WALLY: [quietly, thoughtful] But Home doesn’t talk like us…
POPPY: If you’re sure… Do let me know how it goes.
SALLY: [swaying back to the group] I’ll phone you post-haste! Or even better, I can come by for one of your delicious muffins and regale you with the whole escapade, in detail.
POPPY: [audibly pleased] That sounds - well that sounds like a wonderful idea! I have some fresh from this morning-
BARNABY: Sounds great! See you around, Poppy.
-
FRANK: Home, I have an important question to ask you. Is the correct pronunciation for this candy ‘carmul’, or ‘caramel’? One creak for caramel, two for the incorrect carmul.
BARNABY: Talk about a bias…
[Home stays silent. Sally yawns.]
FRANK: One creak for caramel, two-
[Home slowly shuts their curtains]
FRANK: Hmph! The nerve… well, I suppose a house that can’t speak shouldn’t have a say, anyway.
WALLY: Home can speak. He just does it differently.
BARNABY: And I’m pretty sure they just agreed with me, Walls, an’ Sally.
JULIE: They did not!
BARNABY: Looked like it to me!
SALLY: I have to agree with Julie. Home just declared itself a neutral party, and so the vote can’t be counted either way. On to Howardson!
JULIE: Yes! Howdy! Our last hope!
FRANK: He may have terrible taste in company, but he’s a sensible businessman. Poppy and Home have let me-
JULIE: Us!
FRANK: -us down, but surely Howdy will back us up.
BARNABY: [faux-serious tone, knows something they don’t] Absolutely. Without a doubt.
-
[store bell chimes]
HOWDY: Howdy-do - [brief pause, a tinge of surprise] everyone! My my, what brings the entire neighborhood to my bountiful bodega? Finally decided to clean me out for good?
BARNABY: [snorts] With how fast you restock? I think I’d break my funnybone!
FRANK: We have important business.
HOWDY: [mildly curious] Do we? That’s news to me! But I’m letting you know now that I don’t deal in bugs, Frankly. It’d be hypocritical.
FRANK: Believe me, I wish I were here to talk insects. Unfortunately, I need to settle a score. Mr. Dear, if you would?
EDDIE: If I would what?
SALLY: [stage-whisper] Barnabello gave you the, ah, parcel earlier?
EDDIE: The…? Oh! Oh, right - I have it right here, just… give me a second… which pocket…? There we go.
[sound of a small, hard candy placed on the countertop]
HOWDY: A carmul all for me? You shouldn’t have! No, really, you shouldn’t have. I’m on the clock.
BARNABY: [loud bark of laughter] I knew I could count on you, pal! So what’s the tally, Frankie?
[Frank mutters something inaudible]
BARNABY: What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of me bein’ right!
FRANK: [explosive] You’re all wrong! The correct pronunciation is caramel, CARAMEL! You’re all - you’re all just - heathens! Heathens, I say! I’m taking my company elsewhere!
EDDIE: Mr. Frankly…
JULIE: [overlapping, following] Aw, c’mon Frank!
[the door jingles. Julie and Frank’s hushed arguing in the doorway underlies the dialogue]
HOWDY: It sounds like I missed quite the context! Mind filling me in?
BARNABY: That was pretty much it; a real potato potahto argument.
HOWDY: If you say so, Barn. Speaking of potahtos-
[the background argument abruptly cuts off, the door jingles again as it's closed]
FRANK: [rapidly rejoining the group] Hold it! You don’t really say potahto, do you?
BARNABY: [under breath] Here we go again…
SALLY: [deeply amused] Where on Earth did you pick up such a butchered pronunciation? I must have missed the sign on my tour down from the heavens.
EDDIE: [baffled, underlying the dialogue] I’ve never heard anyone say it that way.
JULIE: Oh! Is it a joke? Like, Barnaby says potato-potahto, and then you jokingly say potahto to make us laugh?
HOWDY: It’s not a joke. That’s how it’s said.
FRANK: [genuinely disturbed] No - no one says that. It’s potato.
HOWDY: Well I say potahto, thank you very much! And if you ever want one from my store again, you’d do well to accept that.
[Various grumbles of reluctant acceptance]
HOWDY: Good. Now, can I get any of you a refreshing drink after such a squall? You must be parched!
WALLY: I wouldn’t mind a glass of mulk.
[Horrified silence. A pin drop would be deafening]
[Sudden uproarious and overlapping argument]
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hey! if you are going to the dallas or woodlands, tx show - listen up!
I don’t fault fall out boy (or their managers) for this but I can’t help but emphasize how stupid it is to book an outdoor show in texas for the end of june!! people outside of texas truly don’t understand how fucking hot it gets this time of year — and unless you experience it for yourself, you won’t get it.
temperatures right now are above 100 degrees Fahrenheit and "feel" much hotter than that due to humidity and UV index.
if you are going to the woodland or dallas show this week, please, please be careful!!!
as a lifelong texan who has endured this hellish heat for my whole life, here are some very important tips for surviving the summer weather (& not passing out):
be sure to hydrate days before the event (starting tonight!) drink mostly water, & if you have them, add those little hydration iv packets as well!
I would highly, highly recommend that you don’t drink alcohol at the event. alcohol is a diuretic and will dehydrate you!!! I would really recommend only drinking water (no diet coke, soda, or other beverages with caffeine, this is a diuretic too!)
check if your venue allows you to bring food & drink (I have heard the dos equis pavilion is allowing snacks! & outside water) & if they do — BRING THEM
eat before the show!! a full meal, not just nibbles of food. eat something rich in all major food groups: carbs, proteins and fats! (most people I have encountered pass out from a mixture of not eating & dehydration)
be conscious of your clothing — wear light colored, breathable fabric like cotton or linen (it’s going to be too fucking hot to make a fashion statement. TRUST ME!)
get to the venue later than you normally would. people in GA, I really really would advise against spending all afternoon in the sun, camping out. if you want to wait in the parking lot, do so in the comfort of your air conditioned car!! (i promise you, getting barricade at a fall out boy show is not worth passing out)
wear a hat!! & bring sunnies (sunglasses) if you are going to be outside before the sun sets
this part of texas DOES NOT cool down at night, so be prepared!!
dicks sporting goods & five below sell those cooling towels for under five bucks, please get one!!
most importantly, listen to your body!!! if you are feeling woozy, ill, lightheaded, nauseous or otherwise NOT RIGHT -- sit down, get help from staff, and get out of the heat!!!!
I’m not kidding when I say that it’s dangerous this time of year to be somewhere outdoors without air conditioning. we, texans, don’t go outside in the summer for a reason!!
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