Chapter Text
The drive home was calming. It gave Bruce plenty of time to clear his head, specifically during the scenic route amongst the trees lining the road up to the manor. He had driven himself rather than asking Alfred. It allowed him the space he needed to process the events of the meeting.
Something about the Autumn leaves soothes his pounding heart and racing mind.
Once home, Bruce barely has time to finish hanging his coat up before he feels someone tugging at his pant leg.
“You’re late, father.”
Bruce sighs out a small chuckle, turning to ruffle Damian’s hair. “I know.”
“You were supposed to be home one hour and forty seven minutes ago. At least, according to my calculations based on the information you gave me.”
“Correct, good job.” Bruce passes by him, walking through the foyer and into the living room. The boy jogs after him. Bruce takes note of the homework scattered about the coffee table and the TV paused on some cartoon. Damian watches intently as his father settles himself onto one of the leather couches.
“So, why are you late?”
“We got caught up.”
Damian nods sharply, perching himself on the arm of the couch. “I assume that it went well, then?”
Bruce raises a brow at him. “What has Alfred told you about the couches?” Damian pouts but climbs off, scooting over until he’s sitting next to Bruce. He stares at him, waiting for his answer. Bruce grabs the blanket displayed neatly over the back of the couch and unfurls it, covering them both in it. His son makes a face but otherwise has no complaints as he curls into Bruce’s side. “Yes. It went well.”
He shuts his eyes, taking the chance to rest before patrol tonight. He realises Damian has other plans when he feels a small finger poking his cheek. “What is she like?” Bruce opens his eyes to find Damian inches away from his face, eyes wide like a hawk. “You must tell me at once, father.”
Sitting up, Bruce gently pushes Damian back a bit. “You’ll like her. She has an inkling for investigation.”
“Gee, I wonder where she gets that from.” Damian folds his arms. “What else?”
“She’s clever. She’s in college-”
“What field of study?”
“Film.”
“Tsk,” The boy ponders the information for a moment. “I like to draw. I can see the value in a creative pursuit.”
“She’s passionate about her interests. She’s got wit. She can carry herself well in conversation. I think you two would get along, she’d certainly fit in well here-”
“The Friday family dinner debates.” Dami offers.
“She would love our dinner debates. She’s not too shy about her opinions, though respectful. Good manners.”
“Good. She’d be kind to Alfred?”
“Absolutely.” Bruce confirms. “She works in a cafe herself.”
“Interesting. What about animals?”
“We didn’t get on to that. I can ask?”
“Please do.” Damian hums. “That will suffice, for now.”
“I’m glad. Have you finished your homework?”
“...Actually, I may have a few more questions-”
“Homework, Damian.” Bruce lies back down, closing his eyes and covering them with his arm. “Or I won't take you on patrol tonight.” He hears Damian grumble as crawls away to sit on the carpet. Amidst the quiet, he begins to relax as sleep calls to him.
Then, he realises it’s too quiet.
Bruce lets out a long sigh. “What?”
“You’re losing your game, old man.” Jason teases.
Bruce sits up to find himself surrounded by a sea of his children. Jason’s leaning against the fireplace, with Duke sat crossed-legged in front of it, visibly pleased at the warmth of the flames against his back. Dick has made himself comfortable on the coffee table, where he can aid Damian with his homework. Dick’s laptop lies open next to him, showcasing an ongoing facetime with Barbara. Steph waves at Bruce from where she’s sitting on the back of the couch as she sips some kind of iced beverage. He feels a tap on his shoulder and looks back to receive a similar wave from Cass. She’s also drinking some form of iced drink.
When he turns back around, Tim is perched on the arm of the couch like Damian had been earlier, grinning. “So, what’s she like?”
Ace hops up onto the couch, right on top of Bruce. Bruce groans at the impact, Ace seemingly unaware of his wrongdoings as he begins to lick Bruce’s face.
Honestly, not a day of damn peace in this house, Bruce thinks. He smiles, leaning away from Ace’s tongue and cupping his face with his palms, beginning to scratch the canine behind his ears. Good. It’d be boring otherwise.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Bruce presses a kiss to Ace’s snout. “We’ll be meeting with the doctors on Saturday.”
Silence follows.
“Saturday?” Dick asks. “You…You mean you don’t know yourself yet?”
“Should I?”
“We assumed you had already done the test yourself.”
“You assumed wrong.”
“When I came back, you weren’t that fancy with me. You just took some of my damn blood, didn’t even offer doctors.” Jason adds.
“Well, Jaylad, you were being very theatrical with your return. I couldn’t exactly ask you outright.”
“What about me?” Damian pouts. “I also didn’t get doctors.”
Bruce leans over, yanking Damian back by his shirt. The boy yelps, unable to dodge as Bruce kisses his forehead. He looks like an angry kitten, face turning red, his siblings snickering. He gives in at their amused reactions, helplessly accepting the affection. “You look just like I did when I was your age. I only even tested you because your mother’s not known for being honest.” He’s pulled up onto the couch then, wrapped up in his father’s arms, Ace beginning to lick his face next. He grimaces. The others only laugh more at his misfortune.
Cass must decide she wants in on the affection. She rounds the couch, climbing over the back of it to plop herself next to the three. She reaches over to pinch Dami’s cheek. “Cute.”
“I’ll fight all over you!” Damian yells. There's no real venom behind the words. Bruce thinks he catches a glimpse of a smile.
Duke swings back to the comment about Damian’s test. “I don’t believe for a second you didn’t also do it out of your normal paranoia. No offence.”
Steph swirls the ice around in her cup. “I’m not so sure.” She points at Bruce, dramatically declaring her next statement in a faux formal voice. “The court has found that this man will take any excuse to add a child to his collection.”
Duke stands, clearing his throat. He holds one arm at his back, the other over his chest. He bows his head, mimicking the same silly tone that Steph had used. “The court has recognised Miss Brown’s argument of opposition.” He lifts his head again. “Assuming she can provide evidence.”
The others quickly get into character to follow the dramatics, each displaying some sort of comedic pose.
Stephanie continues. “Why, my good sir, the evidence is here, in this very room!” Gasps fill the air. “By my count, Mr Wayne is guilty of: Four counts of legal adoption, two additional counts of emotional adoption, one count of conspiracy to adopt should the health of a living parent fail, one pending biological child. And, when it comes to eleven-year-old Damian-” She makes a gesture to Dick, who takes a spare piece of paper from Damian’s discarded supplies. He quickly folds it, passing it to her. She unfolds it, ‘reads’ it, then slaps the paper. “Mr Wayne, you ARE the father.”
Gasps fill the air once more. “Oh, good heavens!” Jason cries in a British accent, pretending to faint.
Bruce hangs his head in his hands, feigning guilt.
“Objection!” Tim slams his hand down on the couch. “I would like to plead a case of mental health! My client has a severe case of only child syndrome. He is simply ensuring that the children of this fine city can grow up with siblings to not develop into socially inept adults!”
“I raise to the court that we’re still socially inept adults!” Steph gestures to herself and the others.
“Speak for yourself,” Duke argues, then clears his throat. “I mean- The court has heard enough. The jury shall decide the verdict. All those who believe Mr Wayne is guilty for the crime of having too many damn kids, raise your hand.”
The vote is unanimous. Including:
Dick.
Barbara, who is spamming the call with hand emojis.
Damian.
Ace, whose paw is being held up by Damian.
Cass.
Jason, who is still pretending to be passed out.
Steph.
Tim, Bruce’s defence lawyer.
Duke.
Bruce, himself.
Duke continues. “Mr Wayne, do you have anything to say to the court?”
Bruce stands, putting on his Brucie voice. “I would like to apologise for my actions. It did not occur to me that my actions would be taken in this way. I admit I have paternal instincts that cloud my judgement. I have adoption blindness. Going forward, I vow to do my best to repent for the pain that I have caused.”
Duke nods solemnly along to the speech. “Now that is a man you just can’t cancel. Your punishment- Unbanning Monopoly on the manor grounds.”
Bruce, tone now completely serious, almost jumps at this. “Absolutely not. That game causes literal bloodshed in this household.”
“Fine,” Duke folds his arms. “Any ideas, guys?”
Cass raises her hand. Duke calls on her to answer. “Roleplay Clue.”
Dick nods his head enthusiastically. “I second that- Bring back roleplay Clue!”
Bruce places a hand to his chin, thinking. “Fine. You can have that back, but if one of you breaks a bone again, I’m not taking the lecture from Alfred.”
“I’ll take the fall.” Cass offers. “My idea.”
“Good defence. Alfred can’t bring himself to shout at you, Cass.” Jason says, finally lifting himself off the floor. “But we have a bigger issue at hand.” The others turn to him in suspense. “Why aren’t you testing Nora’s DNA yourself?” He questions, bringing the earlier conversation back to life. “I’ve got a straw she used if you need it.”
“You what?” Bruce frowns.
“Relax, I didn’t break into her apartment or anything. I took her to Bat Burger after the whole ransome thing.” Jason pauses, then smirks. “You swabbed her coffee mug, didn’t you?”
“She had a hot chocolate,” Bruce folds his arms, matter of fact.
“Soo…You swabbed her hot chocolate mug, didn’t you?”
Bruce deflates. “Okay, maybe-”
“Ha! You’re too easy-”
“It’s a backup…! I want to make sure the results are correct, but I’m not doing it until after the initial results.”
“Why wait?”
“Well…I want us to find out together. It’s only fair.”
Silence fills the room again as the kids share looks amongst each other.
Tim speaks first. “That’s…Surprisingly well adjusted of you, B.”
“I just want our relationship to be built on trust. Well, other than not telling her I’m Batman.”
The kids laugh at the juxtaposition.
Until it dawns on them.
He means it.
Dick speaks this time. “You’re not seriously going to keep it from her?”
“Not forever, but I can’t just come out with it right away. Her life is going to be uprooted enough. It’s not right for us to cause her more stress than necessary.”
Tim gapes at him. They all do. “Again, this is weirdly well adjusted for you.”
Dick sighs. “Not that we can’t see your point…Hm. I get it. The last thing she needs when finding out she has a new family is to worry about them every night.”
“Exactly.” Bruce agrees. “You understand what I’m asking of you all, too, then?”
Some nod whilst others react with audible acknowledgment, and a few stay silent as they evaluate the request. Dick answers, choosing to speak on their collective behalf. “No one will say a word to Nora.”
They would respect Bruce’s wishes about something so significant either way, but Dick’s promise seals the deal. Debating Bruce is one thing, debating both their father and eldest brother? Not likely. Not when it comes to respecting their sibling code, especially when it means going against Dick’s word.
Damian airs some concern, his voice small. “What if she finds out?”
Bruce sits back down, running a hand over Damian’s back. “Well, she doesn’t live at the manor. We’re a family full of detectives all trained to excel in perception and stealth. I’ve trained you all to come up with cover stories and contingencies. These skills are as natural to us as breathing by now. How could she possibly find out, sprout?”
“You make a compelling argument, father…” A pause. “I bet a twenty on her investigation skills that father mentioned to me.” Damian says, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill and placing it on the coffee table.
“Where did you get that?”
“Your pocket, whilst you were coddling me.” Damian smirks.
Barbara unmutes herself for the first time. “Dick- If I send you a twenty, can you place a bet for me?”
“Yeah, hang on.” Dick digs around his pants until he pulls out his wallet, adding a twenty to the pile Damian started.
“You’re not seriously betting on this.” Bruce utters, incredulous. He knows the answer, even if they ignore him. They have a designated betting board in the Cave purely for situations like this.
Duke grabs one of the plain sheets of paper and starts drawing out a draft of reasons to copy onto the BatBetting Bingo Board later. “What’s your hypothesis, Babs?”
“Tech related, of course. One of you leaves your phone, tablet, or computer unlocked and she comes across information she shouldn’t.” Duke nods, jotting it down. She mutes herself again.
Alfred hums, having seemingly appeared from thin air. The sound draws the attention of the others, who all turn to look at him.
“How long have you been standing there…?”
“Long enough, Master Bruce.” Alfred walks forward. He very calmly draws a hundred dollars, freshly printed, from his breast pocket. He lays it on the table. The faces of the Wayne children light up in response. “I reckon she will follow the example of Master Dick and find one of the many entrances to the Cave you’ve had installed, sir. Most notably, the one behind my fridge. I do wish you’d all remember to switch off the light.” He looks around the guilty party, all avoiding his gaze. “Good. I shall start on dinner.” With that, he walks swiftly out.
Cass taps Bruce’s shoulder, silently asking for some cash. He sighs, giving into the game and obliging. She counts the money then places it. “Two hundred. Common sense.”
“Care to elaborate?” Dick says. Cass points to his Nightwing mug. He blinks, and slowly slides it behind himself as if it rids him of the evidence. “Anyone could have that.”
Cass smiles, then flexes one of her arms and points to the bicep. Then she gestures to the rest of them.
Duke chortles. “She’s got a point. We’re all super jacked for seemingly no reason, and this house is covered in our own merch.” He happily adds it to the list.
Steph pipes up next, adding ten bucks and a stamp card with one more stamp needed for a Boba place. She quotes an online theory. “Do the butts match!”
Bruce groans, rubbing a hand down his face. “Anything else, I beg you.”
Duke pauses. “I would hope she isn’t looking.”
“Good point.” Steph pouts. “She meets him as Batman and he forgets to change cologne. Recognises him by smell.”
“Why is she sniffing people now?” Duke huffs, even as he writes it down. “Your mind scares me sometimes.”
“That’s the beauty of it.”
Jason strides over, far too confident for Bruce’s liking. “I bet a hundred bucks that she’ll find out because of you, B.”
Bruce makes a face. “How?”
“You’ll call her some kind of nickname in costume.”
“I have no reason to interact with her in costume.”
“Us Waynes do have a tendency to be targeted. She already got kidnapped once.”
“On that note,” Duke interjects. “I will add that she gets into some kind of situation where one of the Bats is needed. Whoever it is will be just emotional enough that she’ll catch on, realising they care about her more than any stranger is meant to.”
“That’s a decent enough theory.” Tim’s up next, throwing three twenties onto the table. “I think she’ll figure it out the same way I did. One of you will do something in and out of costume that only you can do, or she'll recognise a trait only you have. Dick’s acrobatics, Jason’s white streak, Damian’s unique pet names. We have Batcow, for crying out loud.”
“You leave Batcow alone-!” Damian starts but Duke’s concern is louder.
“That’s like three things-!”
“I put down three twenties!”
“Well, go slower!”
“Okay- Okay.” Dick holds his hands up. He waits for Duke to stop writing, then slowly places forty onto the pile. “She…” He looks at Bruce as if debating how much he’s willing to commit to his next statement. Bruce narrows his eyes. A warning. Dick only smiles back, mischievous. Not scared in the slightest, he continues. “She picks up on the tension between Bruce and Clark-” The crowd erupts. Dick doesn’t let the reaction interrupt him, though his smile widens. “-And sees some kind of footage or interview of Batman and Superman. She clocks both of them at the same time.” Cheers from his siblings. A high five from Damian, a salute from Steph, and a pat on the back from Jason.
Bruce sighs heavily as Tim quotes some kind of internet joke. “Of course- Fuck! It’s genius-” All the others catch on to what he must be referencing. “Why didn’t I think of that?” They say in unison, in the exact same tone, whilst hanging their heads in shame.
Bruce is fearful he’s raised a cult.
Jason throws an arm over his shoulder, leaning over to speak privately with him. “Cheer up, B. Don’t you think she’d like our kind of chaos?”
Bruce looks at his second son. “Did you tell her that?”
“Don’t worry,” He deadpans. “I didn’t give anything away. All I said was I think she’d fit in with the Waynes. Don’t you think so?” Jason pats his shoulder, venturing off to one of the built-in bookshelves to give Bruce the space to ponder his question.
Bruce canvases the ongoing scene occurring in front of him, his children getting along for once as they try to fill in the remaining spaces of their bingo draft. Well, some of them. Dick is sprawled out on one of the other couches, Tim lying across him, bouncing ideas off each other to feed to Duke.
Cass has opted out temporarily, having stolen Dick’s laptop to talk with Barbara.
Steph has curled up on the opposing couch to Dick and Tim’s to scroll through her socials. Damian has moved to her couch, using her as a footrest, attempting to return to his homework. His hand hangs off the couch to stroke Ace, who has also moved to nap on the carpet.
He studies the pictures of his family on the mantle of the fireplace, a collection built up over the years. One or two of him as a child, during the days when it was just him and Alfred in a large, empty home. Echoes through silent hallways with only the bats in the attic as company. Then, small running footsteps and laughter when Dick had joined, photos of him popping up, too. The collection has only snowballed since the arrival of each new member, as did the sound of footfalls and laughter in the halls. Music playing from one or more of the bedrooms, lively conversations over breakfast. Stick drawings and toys on the floor and remnants of hobbies littered in every room. A house haunted with memories of Bruce’s loss, so much pain, became full of love, so much gain.
A disordered, havoc-wrecking scene turned to a serene one, bleeding with love throughout it. Pure, raw love. It could pass as a modern renaissance painting, in Bruce’s opinion.
He hums, content, as Jason hops down next to him, two books in hand. He passes one to Bruce, shimmying himself under the blanket and using Bruce as a footrest, like Damian has with Steph. Bruce smiles at his son, beaming. “You’re right.”
“Of course I am.” Jason pauses, finding his page. “What about?”
“Nora will love it here.”