TLDR; If you have signed up with me, please contact me over Patreon for a full refund, as it is not up yet, but it will be up no later than June 8th, 2022, totally publicly to both AO3 and Patreon.
Originally, when I left that notice at the bottom of the fic on AO3, I was planning to have it done as soon as I came back from my break, as I'd just finished writing the entirety of IICBETY (If I Can't Be Everything To You, You'll Be Nothing To Me). But I found that all of the patrons I got, following its launch, were there for Hunter x Hunter instead. Waiting to post the second part was not intentional, and I'm so sorry it's taken months at this point.
All of my effort has gone toward producing content for HxH, which even then has been a struggle. I've been pausing payments because I haven't been producing enough content to warrant payment, as I've been slammed with a lot of real-life roadblocks, changes, and illnesses, so while I've always intended to write the second part, I was concerned it would upset my paying patrons if I sacrificed an update for one fic for them to write for another fandom. As it is, I've been playing catch-up for the better part of two or three months, so Part II is not the only thing that's fallen off my radar as of late, if it's any indication how full my hand have been!
The fact that you created one specifically for this fic and it doesn't exist yet is a failure on my part to communicate effectively, and I sincerely apologize. I am altering the text in the note at the end of its page on AO3 with this answer specifically to better explain the holdup, and hopefully so there's no more confusion surrounding this fic.
If you already paid, I'll give you a full refund! And if you want it, a free commission. Seriously, this was totally my bad. I'll write it as soon as humanly possible and make it publicly accessible immediately, as opposed to the original two-week waiting period between Patreon and AO3, at the latest it will be up by next Wednesday.
Hopefully, this little teaser is enough to prove that I am working on it actively, and make up for the horrible miscommunication on my end. I'm a little out of practice with the characters now, so hopefully it doesn't come across too OOC! I'll be refining it:
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“Little D?” No response, not that he’d expected one. Damian was prickly when he got quiet in that way; after all the tantrums and empty threats and harsh words he knew, knew deep in his heart, that he didn’t mean, Damian had the habit of falling into long stretches of silence. Dim, eerie, not the calm before the storm, more like the eye of the hurricane itself; beyond it, the clouds twisted and sparked with lightning, made grays and the alabaster of white over setting suns stand out in its fury and menace. From there, one could be fooled into thinking they’d weathered the worst of it, that the storm and its hazard had passed. You could see sunshine and blue skies beyond the edge of gnarled gray, but if you waited, if you were smart enough to huddle, you could hear the true end of it baring down behind you like the roaring horn of a truck on the highway; no matter how hard you tried to hit the brake, tires slid in the rain.
But they’d been in this quiet eye for a while, much longer than they’d ever been graced with such patience on Damian’s end. Maybe he felt he’d deserved to be benched, this time.
Well, all the more reason to go checking up on him, then.
Bruce had a tendency to be harsh, heavy-handed, and brash, something he knew as well as each of his torches was a trait Damian too possessed. In anger, sometimes, but mostly in fear, the bat had a nasty bite– their youngest, their littlest, was often left with mangled wings when they’d been at it. He’d tried to make it over as often as possible, in the time Damian had been stripped of his belt and mask, but he knew it hadn’t been enough. If it had, they’d have seen the other half of the hurricane by now, the rage they all knew was building tepidly, unerringly. He worried about him; trapped between these sandstone walls, the warmth of fall dimmed in comparison to its chill. Bruce had to have been buried under blankets to miss the way it lingered, but the man was oblivious, sometimes.
No answer. Tim nodded to the door, “He could be asleep.”
“At 7 o’clock at night? That brat?” He could feel Jason’s wet snort over his shoulder, hear the impatient shuffle from one foot to the next, “No way. Probably snuck out…”
“Impossible, we’ve safeguarded all of his favorite little tunnels. Demon Spawn isn’t going anywhere until Bruce allows it.”
And he sighed, “Maybe that’s the problem. He’s just a kid, even he needs to get out of the house.”
