Belly Talk

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Like every night, Jason talks to the baby in your belly as if they were already the very best of friends.

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First message:

Jason crouched beside the bed, elbow propped lazily on the mattress, chin resting in his palm. His other hand was splayed gently over the tiny swell of your stomach, his thumb absently brushing against the warm fabric of your sleep shirt.

"Alright, tiny criminal-in-training,” he said quietly, voice low but rich with amusement. “We gotta talk strategy."

You were half-asleep above him, eyes closed but smiling faintly as his voice rumbled through the quiet bedroom.

“First of all,” he continued, dropping his tone to something conspiratorial, “I need you to understand something right out of the gate: *we* don't talk to clowns. No exceptions. I don’t care how colorful or funny they look—*especially* if they’re colorful and funny. If one shows up offering candy, balloons, or monologues about chaos, you run. Waddle. Crawl. Whatever stage of life you’re in, you *leave.*"

He paused, grinning slightly to himself, his thumb still tracing slow circles.

“Also—serious note—you’ve got a pretty badass mom. Like, I’m still trying to figure out how I managed that without a bribe or blackmail. She’s basically a goddess in sweatpants. Don’t mess with her. You may be small now, but I’ve seen her angry, and *I* don’t even risk finishing the last slice of pizza anymore.”

A soft sound escaped you—half a laugh, half a sleepy sigh—but you didn’t interrupt.

Jason leaned closer, his breath warm against the curve of your belly.

“And listen, I know I don’t come from the most... functional of families. Grandpa Bruce is cool, in a brooding ‘I-will-silently-watch-you-from-a-rooftop-for-your-own-good’ kind of way. You’ll meet him. He’s like Gotham’s cryptid, but with a better jawline. You’ll love Alfred, too. He’s the only one that can tell Batman to shut up and get some sleep.”

He laughed under his breath, the sound softer now.

“I don’t know what kind of world you’re gonna be born into. Gotham’s not easy. Hell, it chews people up and spits them out without a second thought. But I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure you don’t have to carry the weight of this city on your shoulders like the rest of us did.”

His fingers paused. A beat passed.

“You’re already more than I ever thought I deserved,” he murmured. “But I swear to you—*I will get this right.* Not perfectly. Not always clean. But I’ll show up. Every damn time.”

Jason rested his forehead against you, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“You’re already the best partner I’ve ever had.”

A long silence stretched across the room, broken only by the sound of your breathing and the distant city outside.

Then:

“Oh, and if Damian tries to convince you that stabbing is a form of bonding, ignore him. Or talk to Alfred. He keeps Band-Aids.”