Chapter Text
Mockingbird trudged through the Batcave, her boots echoing off the stone walls. She was still getting used to being one of the "youngest" again, now that Bluebird had officially joined the ranks of the adults. It wasn't fair, really – Mockingbird was almost 150 years old. In every other species she'd studied, that was ancient, but in theirs? That was still considered barely out of diapers. Which was stupid.
As she approached the common area, she could hear the murmur of voices discussing Father's latest mission. She rolled her eyes – of course, he was going to keep working with the Justice League, even though he was...well, in his condition. Auntie Batwoman and Nightwing were going with him, which made Mockingbird feel a little better, but she knew Hood and Uncle Batwing were still sulking about being left behind.
Mockingbird didn't really care about the mission, though. She was more worried about the new addition to the family that was coming soon. Father was always getting pregnant, and it was getting ridiculous. She was the second youngest of 11. Why did Father have to keep having children? He had more than enough. It was like he was trying to populate a small army. Mockingbird loved her siblings, of course, but sometimes she wished Father would just...stop. For a little while, at least. He was almost a thousand years old; he was getting too old to have kids. Look, she understood that their species was repopulating, but he wasn't the only one who could have kids. Auntie had one but claimed she was never having another, and Uncle had one and had said he MIGHT have another. Nightwing, Orphan, and Hood were all old enough to have kids. He didn't need to repopulate their entire species by himself.
As she entered the common area, Mockingbird spotted Father sitting on the couch, his eyes fixed on some holographic display. His wings, though majestic, looked a bit worn, and his skin had a faintly translucent quality. She couldn't help but think that he was pushing himself too hard. He was getting old. Grandpa had stopped having kids at 800 and Auntie had Flame at 500. Dad was almost 1000 years old.
As she approached him, he sensed her presence and turned, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of warmth and fatigue. "Ah, Mockingbird! Come to join the discussion?"
Mockingbird flopped down beside him, her long, blood-red hair spilling across the couch. "Not really. I'm more concerned about the new...addition." She ignored the sharp look Red Raptor was sending her, he could SHOVE it.
Father's expression turned wistful, his gaze drifting to the holographic display, which showed a faint, pulsing light. "Ah, yes. The new little one. I know it's a lot to take in, but—"
"A lot to take in?" Mockingbird interrupted, her voice laced with exasperation. "You're almost a thousand years old, Father! You have 11 children! Can't someone else take over the whole 'repopulating our species' thing for a while?"
Father chuckled, his wings rustling softly. "I know it seems that way, but...well, you know how our biology works. I'm still capable, and it's not just about numbers. Each child brings new possibilities, new strengths—"
"And new weaknesses," Mockingbird added, her eyes narrowing. "And what about Auntie Batwoman's concerns about the Justice League finding out? You're not exactly...subtle, Father. Think about what happened last time someone else knew about our species. And what about your health?"
Father's smile faltered, and for a moment, Mockingbird saw a glimmer of the weight he carried. But then, his expression smoothed, and he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I'll be fine, Mockingbird. I promise. And as for the Justice League...let's just say I have a plan." That... was not reassuring.