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"This is so dumb." Dick grumbled under his breath. He scrunched up his nose, the fake beard and moustache were starting to itch.
"Well it"s tradition Dickie, and it"s for Grandpa Alfred." Bruce chastised gently. He gave the eight year old a pointed look.
"What"s tradition?" Jason asked, putting his arms up as Bruce pulled an old pillow case over his head. Holes had been cut out at the corners for his arms, and one at the top for his head, creating a little white smock.
"It means doing something old and boring." Dick grumbled again.
"Dickie." Bruce said warningly. He popped a golden tinsel halo on top of Jason"s head. Dick rolled his eyes.
At eight years old, Dick had apparently decided that he was far too cool for most things. Behaving in the last few months like he was already a teenager. Turns out that re-enacting the nativity with his siblings on Christmas eve was also included in the list of stuff he was suddenly too mature for. The family had never been particularly religious, but Alfred had always had a soft spot for a children"s nativity play, saying they reminded him of home. Bruce had been hoping his eldest would be more amenable this year, helping to wrangle his younger siblings even if he wasn"t thrilled to be playing Joseph. Instead Dick seemed to have lost interest all together.
"Can you help Jason practice his lines please?" Bruce asked Dick, ignoring the eight year old"s continued grumbling.
"I know them!" Jason said brightly. "I"ve been practising with Grandpa Alfie."
Bruce gave Dick another look, then turned to Tim. "Why do I have a stick?" The four year old asked. He was wearing a little brown dressing gown Bruce had had as a child, was holding an old fashioned walking stick Alfred had found in the attic. It was almost twice as tall as him.
"It"s a shepherd"s crook." Bruce explained, using face paint to add a five o"clock shadow to the tiny boy"s face. "It helps you look after your sheep!" He grinned at Damian, who sat gurgling happily on the floor, dressed in a fluffy sheep onesie.
Tim looked unconvinced.
"Right, who"s seen your sister?" Bruce asked, getting to his feet. Cass appeared beside him in a flash, her small hand tugging on his sleeve. She smiled shyly up at him. The six year old had a long, white sleep dress on, and over it was wearing a blue shirt of Bruce"s, the belt from her dressing gown cinched at her middle. The innocent look wasn"t fooling anyone, Bruce knew she could have the house in ruins in moments if she chose. He couldn"t imagine life without her.
"Perfect timing, Cassie." He said, handing her the doll that was to be baby Jesus. She cradled it gently in her arms, as though Bruce had given her something very fragile. "Right, now everyone round Damian for a picture." He instructed, pulling his phone from his pocket.
The four older children gathered round the one year old. Tim smiling so wide it scrunched up his eyes, Jason pulling out a "dab" for the photo, whilst Cass hugged Dick gleefully. The doll baby Jesus flung to the floor. Dick, gave a weak smile.
Bruce snapped the photo, tried not to laugh at how ridiculous they all looked.
"Home improvised costumes are all that"s acceptable Master Bruce." Alfred had said, that first year he had dressed Dick and Jason up in random old clothing and hastily tailored bedding. Bruce had foolishly suggested just buying costumes, but Alfred wouldn"t have it. Insisting that primary schools up and down the UK had parents rummaging in old closets for improvised costumes.
The Manor"s inaugural nativity, Jason had been the sheep. A plump little two year old, only a few months with Bruce. Five year old Dick, ever the performer, had been Angel Gabriel, Joseph, a shepherd and King Herod. Dancing round the library doing the different parts, whilst Jason sat on the floor, trying to fit his foot in his mouth.
Three years later, Bruce"s family had grown by three more children. But as ridiculous a tradition as it was, he delighted in the sheer silliness of the occasion.
"Okay, everyone ready?" Bruce asked, scooping Damian off the floor. "Let"s go."
Jason charged ahead, yelling, excited to show Alfred his first costume. This year Jason wouldn"t just be Angel Gabriel, he"d also be a wise man. A very big responsibility.
Cass and Tim skipped after him, but Dick dragged his feet.
"Dickie." Bruce said gently, turning to the eight year old. "What"s wrong? You normally love doing Grandpa Alfred"s Christmas play."
Dick rolled his eyes. "It"s stupid. We don"t even go to church."
Bruce frowned, bounced Damian on his hip. "What"s wrong?" He asked again.
Dick scowled and didn"t reply.
"Look, let"s talk afterwards, when the little kids have gone to bed." Bruce said, knowing that appealing to Dick"s pride in being the oldest usually worked. "But please be good, for Grandpa and for me huh?"
Dick let out a huff. "Fiiine." He dragged out the word, as though Bruce had begged an outrageous favour. Then he poked Damian in the tummy for good measure.
The one year old giggled, reaching for his brother. Bruce passed him over, ruffled the older boy"s hair. Followed them through to the library.
~~
"A long time ago" Dick began, standing next to the library Christmas tree "In a place called Nazareth, there was a lady called Mary." He gestured to Cass who waved and grinned at Alfred and Bruce, who sat "front row" on the main couch. Bruce gave her a smile and a wave back.
"And she was visited by the Angel Gabriel." Dick continued.
Jason slid on his socks across the wooden floor. "Hi Cass! God wants to give you a baby!" He said loudly. Bruce winced at the volume. Clearly Jason had taken Alfred"s advice about projecting his words to heart.
Dick hissed something and then Jason said, louder still. "Hi Mary!! God says he will give you a baby for Christmas." The tinsel halo fell down over his eyes as he disappeared behind the Christmas tree.
Bruce could see Alfred trying not to laugh out the corner of his eye. Clearly Jason was also trying his hand at improvising.
"But Mary and her husband Joseph" Dick stepped next to Cass, put his arm around her shoulders. "Had to go to Bethlehem and be counted for King Herod"s census."
"It was a long way to Bethlehem, so they had a donkey to help carry their luggage." Dick turned and gestured to Ace who Tim had just coaxed into the library. Cass held her lead and her and Dick dutifully walked back and forth in front of the fire place a couple of times. Bruce silently thanked whoever was listening that Ace had so much patience.
"And when they got there, they had to stay in a stable, because all the hotels were full!" Jason said loudly from behind the tree.
"Jason!" Dick snapped. "I"m the narrator!"
"Ta-da!" Cass said, whipping Baby Jesus out from inside Bruce"s shirt.
"Err and so Jesus was born in a barn--a stable!" Dick added quickly. Before he, Cass and Ace hurried off behind the tree. A moment later, Dick was back, plonking Damian the sheep in the middle of the "stage". Tim wandered up behind him.
"I am a shepherd watching my sheep." The four year old announced, gesturing vaguely at Damian. "And the stick helps!"
Bruce bit back a laugh, smiling encouragingly at Tim.
"Hi shepherd!" Jason said loudly again.
"Hi angel!" Tim said just as loudly back.
Damian stared up at them from the floor. Let out a squeal.
"Quiet sheep!" Jason commanded. "I have good news! Cass had-- Mary had a baby! You should go and say hi!"
"Okay!" Tim and Jason high fived and skipped off behind the tree.
"And so," Dick, Cass and the doll baby Jesus reappeared, stood beside Damian the sheep. "In the stable, surrounded by animals" Dick pointed at Damian. "Jesus had his first visitors."
"Hi Jesus!!" Jason was back and louder than ever. His tinsel halo swapped for a paper Burger King crown. "I have bought you gifts of gold, franking pens and murder."
"Myrrh!!" Dick corrected loudly, but Jason just shrugged and pretended to kneel at the dolls feet.
"And I"m just saying hi!" Tim added, kneeling down next to Jason. Cass patted him on the head.
"And that is the story of the first Christmas." Dick finished, looking utterly relieved the play was over.
Bruce and Alfred cheered and clapped, laughing as Jason did multiple bows.
"Excellent my darling"s." Alfred said warmly. "The best one yet! Now who"s for hot chocolate?"
A chorus of excited squeals came in response, but Bruce didn"t miss the slight slump in Dick"s shoulders and the half hearted agreement to hot chocolate.
~~
It took Bruce three attempts to get Jason, Tim and Cass to settle down to bed. The three of them way too hyped up on hot chocolate and the thought of presents to sleep. Eventually he relented and let the three of them all pile into Tim"s bed, leaving the drapes open so they could watch for Santa.
He found Dick sat with Ace by the Christmas tree, holding up presents for the dog to sniff.
"I hope you"re not peaking." Bruce teased, taking a seat on the couch.
"No." Dick said quietly, shaking his head.
Bruce frowned. "Dickie, chum, what"s wrong?"
Dick shrugged, scratched Ace behind the ears. "Nothing." He mumbled.
"Dickie." Bruce said again. "Talk to me, what"s up? Let"s fix it together."
Dick shrugged, didn"t look at Bruce. Ace pushed his head against Dick"s face, tried to lick his cheeks.
"Oh Dickie, no." Bruce said, realising his eldest had started to cry. He shuffled over to where Dick sat on the floor, pulled him into a hug. "What is it?" He asked, gently wiping the tears from Dick"s face. "What"s wrong?"
Dick sniffled. Wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve. "It"s dumb." He mumbled.
"It"s not dumb," Bruce said gently. "Tell me."
Dick let out a little huff and then a heavy sigh. "How come there are so many of us now?" He asked in a small voice.
Bruce felt a small knot of dread pull tight in his stomach. "What do you mean?" He asked, carefully.
"You used to say I was the best thing ever." Dick said quietly. He didn"t look at Bruce. "And Alfred used to say mine and Jason"s plays were the best." He paused, getting teary again. "But now you have Tim and Damian and Cass as well and Alfred thought this play was better and do you guys just not like me anymore?" He finished suddenly, looking up at Bruce desperately. "You keep saying everything is so much better now, what was so wrong with me?"
Bruce was sure he felt a crack go right through his heart. "Ohh Dickie, chum, nothing is wrong with you. You are perfect." And he pulled the small boy tight to his chest.
Dick was crying again, clinging to Bruce as he cried. "But then why, why--" he hiccoughed, his little sobs drowning out his words.
"Dick, just because I love your brother"s and sister doesn"t mean I love you any less." Bruce said firmly, but kindly.
"Really?" Dick asked in a small voice.
"Of course!" Bruce squeezed him again. "And you love them too right?"
"Yeah I do." Dick said sadly, and Bruce wondered if his little boy was upset all the more because he thought he was being replaced by kids he couldn"t even resent for it.
"Listen to me Dick." Bruce said, and he pulled Dick away from him so he could look him in the eye. "You are still the best thing ever. You always will be." He paused, trying to think of how to explain things. "You know how at Hannukah we light the Hannukiah?"
Dick nodded.
"That first light, we light, that"s you for me. You were my first light in the darkness. And because of you, I can light all the other candles, which are your brothers and sister. All of you bring so much hope and joy into this house. But without you, there never would have been any of that."
Dick chewed his lip, but he looked unconvinced.
"Just think of tonight, none of them could have done the play for Grandpa Alfred without you. The whole thing would have been a disaster. It was the best one yet because of you."
"So... so you guys still like me?" He asked quietly.
"Like you!?" Bruce said suddenly, shaking Dick very slightly by the shoulders. "Dick Grayson-Wayne." Bruce jumped to his feet, scooped Dick up into his arms. "We don"t just like you. We love you!" And he bounced Dick up and down as he headed for the kitchen. "Isn"t that right Grandpa Alfred?" Bruce called, as Dick began to giggle.
Alfred looked up from where he was prepping the next day"s turkey. "What"s that Master Bruce?"
"We don"t just like Dick, do we?" Bruce asked, plonking the eight year old on the counter.
"Like?" Alfred asked, eyebrows raised. "No, no, no. Like is not nearly an important enough word for you dear boy." He squeezed Dick"s knee. "Not even close."
Dick ducked his head but grinned despite himself. Bruce ruffled his hair, placed a gentle kiss atop his head.
"Do you promise?" Dick asked quietly, so only Bruce could hear.
Bruce rested his forehead against Dick"s, held a gentle hand against the back of his neck. "I promise."
~~
That night Bruce let Dick sleep in his bed. His eldest, his first child, curled up beside him. His small fingers clutched around Bruce"s pyjamas. He pressed a kiss to the small boy"s forehead, fell asleep to the sound of his soft snores. A smile on both of their faces.