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Bruce Wayne had no children. He was barely an adult, really. He was twenty-three and on a mission. Even being Bruce Wayne—Brucie, the billionaire playboy—was part of the mask.
Bruce Wayne was Batman, and Batman fought alone.
***
Bruce Wayne had a protégé. A little Incubus. In front of him, Bruce didn't know what (who) to be. He couldn't be a monster hunter because Dick didn't need a hunter. He couldn't be a vigilante or he would make Dick like him (lost, alone, full of pain). He couldn't be Brucie either, though. Dick deserved someone responsible. And definitely not the billionaire head of Wayne Enterprises.
So Bruce ended up being everything. And none of that.
He taught him how to fight, he taught him justice. Dick arrested his parents' murderer without killing him. And he became Batman's Robin.
He paid for his education. It was his responsibility. Dick was so smart and Bruce Wayne was proud of him. He took him to meetings. Dick was bored but that was okay because Bruce knew Wayne Enterprises had an heir.
He took him to parties. The comments were mean. It didn't matter, though. Dick learned from Brucie how to not take himself too seriously and fool everyone.
At home, Bruce found himself just being Bruce.
At night, Dick would slide in beside him and feed lazily on his affection. It made them both sleepy. Dick would talk about school and his friends and Bruce knew he had to be happy, because Dick fed on happiness.
Dick Grayson was his first son.
***
Dick Grayson taught Bruce unconditional love.
Jason Todd proved to him that Dick was not an exception.
***
Jason immediately became Bruce's son. He felt it after so little, just a week.
Batman had a new partner soon. Jason skipped all the steps. Maybe that's how it worked with second sons.
When Dick made Jason Robin, Batman didn't know what he was losing.
Jason hated Brucie. He was everything he hated about Gotham's wealthy privileged. More often than not, the upper crust even forgot there was another son. <Brucie, dear, how's Dickie?>
At Wayne Enterprises Jason was bored. But he always went with him when Bruce asked. Because Jason knew they hated him being there. Because no one from Crime Alley had been there before.
***
Jason Todd taught Bruce about pain. And Bruce chose never to feel it again. Dick was supposed to be the only one, Dick was supposed to be the exception.
Tim Drake didn't get the memo.
***
Tim had been in Brucie's world before Dick, probably. Tim was the Drakes' son, and Bruce had seen him at many of the parties he'd attended.
The higher-ups in Gotham barely noticed when the two of them started talking more often.
Tim was smart. Batman was furious. Tim Drake took Robin and held him tight. "Whether you like it or not."
Bruce Wayne brought his neighbor, Timothy Drake, to almost every board meeting at Wayne Enterprises. His employees were confused, but hey, the profits were up since the kid was in. So why ask?
Bruce lost a war of attrition against Tim. He'd never lost before. But Tim could take any secret, and sometimes Bruce would look at him and feel like he didn't know him at all. It scared him.
Tim Drake taught him that his will could fail. And that he could love someone without knowing everything about them.
Then came Damian Wayne, and Bruce discovered that he could love someone without knowing them at all.
***
Bruce came home to find Alfred in the hallway. He gave him a stiff nod and received a warm smile in return. He knew Alfred was relieved; he had been off the radar for two days, in space with the Justice League.
<Welcome home, Master Bruce.>
Alfred always worried about him. Alfred had taught him how to live. He had given him Dick, Jason, Tim, Cassandra. Even Barbara and Stephanie. Everything that came after could never have been without Alfred.
<The young masters are in the living room. Master Dick is in Blüdhaven. Miss Stephanie is here too.>
<Thank you, Alfred.>
The boys were in the living room. All of them, except Dick. (And Jason, but Bruce was trying his best not to think about Red Hood.)
They were glued to Tim's computer, apparently looking at pictures. As soon as Tim entered, Tim slammed the window shut on the computer.
Tim had followed them across the rooftops since he was nine. Bruce knew his hobby could get him into trouble. But he was tired and they looked happy. Was he a bad father if he let it slide?
Cassandra appeared at his side and wrapped him in a hug.
Cass was his only daughter (because he wasn't allowed to call Stephanie and Barbara that). Cassandra was Cassandra Wayne. Brucie's world was just a nuisance to her, and she disappeared into the shadows of galas whenever she could. And Bruce hadn't taken her to work yet, maybe hoping Tim would take her someday. And he'd reluctantly let Black Bat patrol because Cassandra was a living weapon, a creature of the night as much as Batman himself. But he hated the lack of emotion Black Bat gave off.
But Bruce had Cassandra. His adorable daughter, hugging him, calling him "Dad." Cassandra could have walked away, made it on her own. She didn't need protection. She didn't need money. Just love. And she chose to be a Wayne.
Cassandra had taught him how powerful a single, gentle blow could be. I love you.
<Hi, Cassie. It's good to be home.>
The family missed you.
Stephanie snorted.
Stephanie and Barbs missed you too.
<Also... it's good to see you.>
Barbara snorted. <You never say "I missed you.">
Barbara Gordon, the first Batgirl. Bruce was a little afraid of her. He hadn't seen her come in, he hadn't been gradual. The day before she was alone with Dick, then a girl in a bat costume had taken out a thief with a flying kick, and the next day Batgirl was already in Gotham.
Batman had tried to stop her once and failed a second time.
<Robin, report,> Bruce said wearily, ignoring the girl. Tim looked up, serious as ever. <Red Hood activity has intensified in your absence. No new murders and her actions, even if violent, helped keep the city afloat while you were gone. Yesterday, between 12:00 and 12:20, Poison Ivy attempted to attack one of Gotham's most polluting factories. It had nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises. Batgirl and I intervened. Black Bat joined us later.>
<Where were you, Spoiler?>
<With Dick in Blüdhaven. He's dismantling a drug ring and I helped him out.>
Bruce nodded. <Anything to report?>
A strange look passed between the four of them.
<No,> Tim said. <What about the Justice League?>
<Emergency over.> A pause. <School? Everything okay?>
A nod. Bruce sighed. He had a throbbing headache and hadn't slept in twenty hours or more. <Good. I'm upstairs. I have to file reports. I'll read yours later.>
***
Dick came to the mansion the next day. They nodded to each other, then Batman went back into the cave. He still had a couple of criminal files to update.
***
Bruce woke up to find Tim standing at the door. He looked at the time.
<Are you going to school?>
<Yes> the boy nodded. <Alfred is driving me. Do you need me?>
<No, go ahead.>
Bruce usually drove his kids to school. He had always driven Dick. And Jason. But he had been up very little and still had to go to Wayne Enterprises to see their CEO. They also had the first part of the annual budget meeting. He wanted to take Tim with him but the boy disappeared through the door before Bruce could ask him to join him in the afternoon.
He thought about writing to him but Tim needed to get some study time. He could ask Cass but bringing her into such an important meeting might not be the best idea.
Bruce shook his head. Breakfast. Meeting. As long as the kids were okay, the rest didn't matter.
***
<Batman, we need you. The President of the United States has called an emergency meeting. It concerns the Justice League's expenses.>
Bruce was on patrol. Robin raised an eyebrow. <I'm calling Spoiler to help me. Go.>
Bruce had planned to meet Clark in two hours. But if he had said that now, Tim might have thought he didn't trust him or Stephanie (things had been a little tense since he had her stop being Robin).
<All right. Be careful. And call if you need to. I can come back.>
<I'll take care of Gotham,> Tim said.
***
He passed Dick in the living room. He was in his pajamas. Bruce didn't even know he had slept there.
<Just woke up?> his son asked.
<I never went to sleep,> Bruce replied.
***
It was the anniversary of Dick's parents' deaths. By the time Bruce finally walked out of Wayne Enterprises, the sun was already setting.
He picked up the phone. Dick answered on the second ring.
<Dick, about the cemetery->
<I'm already here, B. I'm a grown man. You don't have to come with me every year.>
<Alone?>
Something like a laugh. <What, you think I'm going to get lost?>
Bruce felt a twist in his stomach.
He had accompanied Dick to the cemetery every year since the beginning.
Maybe Dick was starting to feel like he didn't have the right. They were his parents, his family, not Bruce's. He was growing up. Bruce forced himself to be rational.
He would give Dick his trust and space. He loved Dick and had to respect his feelings about his dead parents.
He went back to the mansion and "helped" Alfred with dinner, if setting the table and putting food on plates could be called help. Steph and Tim were out for movie night. He ate with Alfred and collapsed into bed shortly afterward.
That night, Batman left flowers on the Graysons' grave.
<I hope it was nice seeing Dick today. He's growing up. He… I hope I'm not messing up everything. You entrusted him to me and I promised to do my best.>
***
Bruce returned to the mansion after a long day at Wayne Enterprises Labs. The house was empty. Even Alfred was away, probably out shopping.
Silence had stopped being nice years ago.
***
<You're not going to do anything?>
Dick looked angry. And like most other times Dick had been angry at him, Bruce had no idea why.
<About what?>
<The kids, obviously.>
"The kids?" Bruce wondered.
<Tim and Steph?>
<Yes!> Dick threw his hands in the air. <They can't keep this up. They could be putting themselves in danger. Fix it.>
Dick walked out. Bruce had no idea what had just happened.
***
When Bruce needed advice, there were only five people in the world he could go to.
The first was Leslie. <How do I cure this infection?> or <What would you recommend to supplement this vitamin?>
The second was Dick. <What do you think would be the best modification to this program? The filter panel or the interactive list?>
The third was Tim. <Do you think it's best to take Route A or C-2 for tonight's patrol?>
The fourth was Alfred. Bruce knocked softly on his bedroom door.
(A child. A knock on the door. <Alfred, I had a nightmare.>)
<Come in, Master Bruce.>
<How did you know it was me?>
<It's my house, I always know.> Alfred smiled and the protective aura of the spirit enveloped him. Because Bruce knew who he belonged to.
<Dick thinks something is going on with the kids. Do you know anything about it?>
Alfred studied him for a moment. <Come in, dear boy. Would you like some tea?>
Bruce nodded and a cup flew into his hands. They sat down in the two armchairs. The fire was nice and warm. Bruce was sure it always was, even in the summer. The temperature in Alfred's room was always perfect.
<Miss Barbara, Miss Stephanie and young Mistress Cassandra have been closer lately, don't you think?>
Bruce thought about it. He shook his head. <I haven't... seen the kids much lately.>
Alfred nodded. <I know, Master Bruce. Unfortunately, your responsibilities have become more burdensome lately, more than usual. Could I perhaps suggest a few days of rest and some family time?>
It wasn't a suggestion; Bruce knew that tone. It was a lot like: <May I suggest you go to your room and finish your math homework, Master Bruce?>
Bruce nodded and took a sip of his tea. <Don't you think, though, that... they deserve their own space?>
<Of course. But you are their family.>
Bruce nodded again. The tea was always delicious and the perfect temperature. But, suddenly, he felt cold. Alfred put a hand on his shoulder and Bruce closed his eyes slightly, resting his cheek on the spirit's arm.
***
The last person on the list of advice was Clark Kent, aka Superman. Bruce had only asked him for advice once, years ago. <Should I join the Justice League?>
And Clark had looked him in the eye and said, <You're going to hate this. But we need you.>
Bruce had come in. Clark had been right.
***
He hadn't been to Metropolis in a while. He caught Clark Kent outside the Daily Planet and invited him to lunch.
(Some tabloids would speculate again about their possible romantic relationship. Bruce didn't care.)
(Clark had said he would have preferred them to call him bisexual and polyamorous. Instead they implied he was a repressed gay man who was cheating on his wife. Clark hated it. Lois usually laughed about it and kissed Clark at that point.)
<How is Jon?>
<Good, thanks. He and Lois are excited about fourth-grade report cards.>
Clark thanked the waitress as his plate was placed in front of him, then looked back at Bruce.
<They've mixed up our orders again.>
Bruce shrugged. They switched plates.
<So> Clark said as he poured them both some water. <Why are you here?>
<Maybe->
<It's not about the League, it's not to say hello, you weren't in Metropolis by any chance. And don't lie, I know if you do.>
Clark's smile was kind but his tone was firm.
<I'm your best friend, I know this stuff.>
Bruce glared at him with his best Batman glare.
(He hadn't corrected him.)
<It's about the kids.>
Clark winced. <Are they okay? I can take time off work and->
<They're fine.> Bruce looked down for just a moment. <I'm just trying to decide how to deal with them.>
<Do you want... advice? Parenting advice? From me?> Clark was shocked. <Bruce, you're the best at this kid thing. You're the reason Conner and I have a decent relationship. In fact, you're the reason Conner and I have any relationship at all. I would have ignored that boy for years if it weren't for you. I still regret my stubbornness.>
<I know.>
Things with Conner Kent, Superman and Lex Luthor's clone, were complicated. But Conner was Tim's best friend and a good guy. And part of Clark's family.
<So why are you here? What did Alfred say?> A pause. <You talked to Alfred about it, right?>
Bruce nodded. <He told me to take a holiday.>
<I agree.> Naturally. Clark and Diana were always telling him to rest and unplug for a while.
<I... I feel distant from them. We're drifting apart. More than before. And not just with Dick. In fact, Dick may be the only one, besides Cassandra, who actually talks to me. I don't understand what's going on. I never see them and they're so evasive. They're always out of the house and want to patrol alone. And Dick... I didn't take Dick to his parents' grave this year.>
Clark was silent for a moment. <So, you already know what they're hiding?>
<They're not hiding anything.>
<Bruce-> Clark held back a laugh. <They're your kids and they're avoiding you. You're the world's greatest detective. Come on.>
<They're avoiding me because they're growing up and don't need me. I adopted Dick and he almost didn't have a choice. It was me or the system and you know how bad it is for Incubi. And Cassandra was a living weapon. It's not like she'd go to a normal commercial family.>
A flash of anger crossed Clark's face. Bruce didn't flinch but only because he was used to not flinching when his brain screamed "predator".
(<You're only human, Batman. Will you hold up? Me, Diana, and the others are aliens or have superpowers. It's okay if you can't.>)
(He had beaten monsters, aliens, metahumans.)
<Bruce.> Clark was trying to control his voice. <They're teenagers. You're their family and they love you. But they're teenagers. Trust me, I know what it's like. I was like that as a kid. They're hiding something. But they'll always need you. Like you need Alfred and I need Ma and Pa.>
Bruce returned to Gotham.
***
Bruce didn't hack Tim's computer. He didn't spy on Stephanie, he didn't ask Cassandra. Instead, he went to Dick.
<Dick? Chum, can I come in?>
<If you have to> Dick sounded annoyed but had already opened the door. He got him a chair and placed it in front of the rings he had in his room for training. As he climbed up and did a handstand, Bruce took a seat.
(Nostalgia was pressing hard. Dick was growing up and still the boy born to fly.)
<I didn't go with you to your parents' grave this year.>
He saw the moment Dick's grip went unsteady. It lasted only a moment, then it came back, firmer than before. He spread his arms, then pushed himself back up.
<I've never...I've always come with you before.>
<Are you apologizing or something? Because it doesn't matter, you don't have to do this every year. I'm a grown man, I can drive to the cemetery, B.>
<It wasn't a problem to come with you.>
Dick froze at that. Then he pushed himself up and somersaulted in the air, landing right in front of Bruce. He touched his wrist and Bruce, who knew his son, simply pushed his emotions toward him.
Dick sighed. <I love you too.>
He sat down and rested his head on Bruce's shoulder. He closed his eyes. <Listen. It's been weird without you but I understand that I'm growing up and they're my parents. I can't drag you with me with all the work you have to do.>
Bruce gasped. Dick opened his eyes.
<Dick, I still went to take flowers to Mary and John. They... when I took you in, they entrusted me with the person they loved most in the world. I'll always go visit them.>
Dick looked at him. He blinked and Bruce could see tears.
<Dick... I'm sorry, I, maybe I shouldn't have gone without asking but it was important to me and- Dick?>
Dick buried his head in his shoulder. Bruce's arms moved on their own to wrap around him. <Dick, it's okay if you don't want me with you. They're your parents. I... I promise I'm doing my best, it's just hard to stop looking for you because you...>
<I don't want you to stop> Dick murmured. His eyes were spirals and Bruce felt the same familiar tightness in his emotions.
<You... Just give me a minute.>
He would have given him years. He held him tight and waited.
<I love you, B.>
<I know, chum, I know. And I love you too. And I respect your->
<No. No, listen. You're an idiot.>
Bruce hesitated. <Huh?>
<B...> Dick pulled away. Tears were still streaming down his cheeks. Bruce wiped them away with the hem of his shirt. <Dad, of course I wanted you with me. I was just trying not to weigh on you.>
Clark was right. Twice out of two.
***
Dick was leaning against his father, his undeniably human dad Bruce. Not a half-Incubus, not a shapeshifter. Not an alien, not a metahuman. Just a human.
Barbara had called him some time ago. <Jason, Tim, Stephanie, and Cassandra see each other regularly. What do you want to do?>
And Dick had had two hours of panic. On instinct, he had returned to Gotham. He had stopped at the mansion for the night.
Bruce looked broken. His gaze was piercing through him. Dick could sense nothing, no sadness, no worry. Only the aftertaste of ash and gunpowder and a great tiredness.
Dick locked himself in his room, starting to shake. When had it happened? How could it have happened?
Bruce fought monsters. Bruce was...
Dick slowly realized that he had never thought of Bruce as one of the victims he saved from muggings or pickpockets. Bruce was not an ordinary human being.
He was not an ordinary human being. But, Dick remembered, he was human. It was easy to forget when he saw him on video calls or on the battlefield.
Bruce was human.
"My human. My dad."
He closed his eyes and an image flashed behind his eyelids. The bodies of his parents. Bruce's voice telling him not to look.
He couldn't think.
He couldn't lose Bruce, too. He would rather die than lose Bruce.
Dick couldn't help him, though. There were no negative emotions to deal with or villains to fight. Bruce was tired.
He could only walk away, he realized. He could only burden him less. Tire him less. Stop feeding off of him. Dick had to take care of Bruce. He was an adult now. Dick had to stop being a burden on Bruce's life.
He had to walk away, and take with him the strain of raising a Incubus like him.
He forced himself to think. He was a detective. Bruce had given him everything he needed to face the world. Bruce had taught him to think systematically.
His siblings were there.
Jason needed his father.
Stephanie needed to be Spoiler.
Cassandra had just moved away. She deserved a father. Dick had had Bruce for years and had wasted too much time. He wasn’t going to take away Cassandra’s chance.
And how could he tell Tim to leave it alone, to get away from the mansion after everything that had just happened? No, Tim needed to stay here, safe. He was another human and probably the one Bruce was happiest to be around. No demonic weirdness with Tim. No drained emotions, no figures emerging from the shadows, no hoof prints on the floor, and no chaos.
He didn't want Bruce to be alone anyway. And the others didn't feed off of him. He just had to tell Bruce to step in so Jason could come back and Bruce could take a break. Once Jason was safe, Dick could take care of everything. Jason hadn't contacted Dick, so he knew he had to stay away but he couldn't let the situation with the little ones explode. Dick would only make things worse. He had to tell Bruce to stop beating around the bush.
(Dick hadn't even considered the idea that Bruce didn't know about the situation with Jason. He was Bruce Wayne, for Gotham's sake!)
It was Dick's turn to sacrifice a little. To let go.
Dick couldn't be the demon the legends thought he was, the one who destroyed the human psyche piece by piece.
He had to go away so Bruce could fix everything. And then Dick could save Bruce.
<Dick, it's okay if you don't want me with you.>
Dick hadn't seen that coming.
But Bruce, Bruce never understood. He looked at him and Dick felt the pain growing. Inadequacy. Pain, pain, pain.
And Dick was such an idiot. Something in his chest hurt. He thought he could hear his confidence cracking inside his head.
<I love you, B.>
And his father had sent so much love, pushed toward him, wrapped around him.
<I know, chum, I know. And I love you, too. And I respect your->
Bruce was a liar. Bruce actually thought Dick didn't love him. Abandonment, loneliness, rejection, regret, pain, fear, sadness. Loneliness, loneliness, loneliness.
And Dick wanted to save Bruce, like Bruce had always saved him in the alleys, in the streets, in the sky of Gotham.
But not if that was the price. Dick found out that yes, he was as selfish as the stories said.
Because he was willing to destroy his father rather than make him believe he wasn't wanted. Dick had heard enough rejection and Bruce was his, had been his entire family for years.
<No. No, listen. You're an idiot.>
<Huh?>
<B...> Dick was crying. And his father was holding him, wiping away his tears. And Dick couldn't lie. Not at that price. <Dad, of course I wanted you with me. I was just trying not to weigh on you.>
Bruce smiled, as if Dick had just lifted the weight of the world off his shoulders. He looked younger, he looked only human.
He looked stronger, too. Like Batman, like Dick's dad.
Dick was the one person in Bruce's life who could never doubt his love. It was there. He could feel it.
"I was willing to lose you but not for you to lose me," Dick thought. "I was willing to lose you but not for you to feel alone."
Because since Bruce found him, Dick had never been alone.
***
<Dick?>
<Should I get up, B?>
<No, chum. Stay. I just wanted to know if your brothers are hiding something from me.>
<I told you ages ago!>
"Damn Clark," Bruce thought. "Three out of three."
***
Dick Grayson had tasted Bruce Wayne's emotions at nine years old and had hated the taste of ash and gunpowder. The taste of pain.
Dick Grayson had grown up. When he tasted ash and gunpowder in the midst of fatherly love, Dick swallowed the bitter pill and felt at home.
***
Bruce was determined to figure out what was happening to his family.
He went down to the living room, dragging Dick with him. His eyes were still wet but he was smiling. Bruce decided that was okay.
They walked in and the first thing he noticed was Alfred, standing there with his arms folded and the look on his face like he’d just given an order.
He took a deep breath, mentally ready to send out the SOS signal to the Justice League.
Tim was on the couch, his computer open to a file titled: The Return of Jason Todd.
Barbara sat across from him, stirring her tea. An open sugar packet sat on the coffee table in front of her.
Stephanie was next to Tim, her legs stretched out and her feet propped up defiantly on the coffee table. She looked like she’d just eaten a juicy dose of chaos.
Cassandra was standing next to Tim, leaning on someone’s shoulder.
And sitting in the chair, with a cup of tea on his lap and one of Alfred's famous cookies in his hand, was Jason.
<Little wing!> Dick squealed, almost jumping with joy.
Clark and Alfred were the worst.
Bruce was really about to take some time off.
The doorbell rang.
<Camera> Tim ordered and turned the computer to face him. His voice was frail.
That... was Talia Al Ghul?