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1.
The gala was going off as all galas usually do. The rich gothamites mingling with malicious glints in their eyes and sharp smiles, their laughs ringing through the air like cheap Halloween candy, sickeningly sweet and fake.
Bruce stood among them all laughing at the jokes he was supposed to laugh at and dealing with the old ladies that thought it was in their rights to get a little handsy. Finally out from hiding in the old Wayne manor and back in the spotlight Bruce felt very uncomfortable.
Especially because his son ward wasn't anywhere to be seen.
To say he was stressed was a bit of an understatement. Bruce was losing his shit. Eloquently sure. But still losing his shit.
You see the issue is many of the rich people types don't read the Gotham gazette or get news updates. So when a previously reclusive 22 year old Bruce Wayne walked in with an 8 year old who's full hand could just only wrap around his pinkie, well, there was a bit of an uproar in whispers.
"Could it really be?" An elderly woman from a new money Gotham family said as Bruce strode past. "He would've had to have been 14 or 15 at least. Poor boy no parents around to discipline him in his rambunctious years no wonder he walks in with a kid out of nowhere. Maybe that's why he's been hidden away in that house all these years keeping away from the spotlight."
Bruce grit his teeth and kept walking.
A mantra of where'sDickwhere'smysonnonononowheredidhegoishould'veneverbroughthimwhere'smyboyringing theough his ears.
Bruce was tall, having since grown into his stature especially with batman's muscle mass. So to say he was a big man was a bit of an understatement. The only problem was that Dick was just so small. So short and small and frail and fit the title robin perfectly, as delicate as a little bird. That though never stopped Dick from getting into all kinds of trouble but at times like this, Bruce wished Dick wouldn't venture off so much and would stay close.
God he really should've put that tracker on him.
Anyway the point is Bruce is huge but Dick is small, so despite standing over the majority of the crowd Bruce STILL couldn't find his son ward.
Then he heard it. "Oh my deary aren't you just precious. Your father must be so proud of how handsome you are, take after him with that hair and those big blue eyes don't you." An elderly woman's voice rang out from nearby.
Bruce shot off like a bloodhound that was finally picking up a scent and within seconds he saw him.
Dick was by a table close to the western wall of the ballroom surrounded by many of Gotham's new money families. Well, Bruce thought, any family other than the Wayne's felt new money. Though only because the Wayne's were the first wealthy family ever in Gotham.
Bruce was now close enough to see Dick better, more precisely how uncomfortable he was. Dick already didn't want to attend the gala but with the fact that he too had to wear a tux made him downright miserable.
At that moment though Dick looked up and practically launched himself through the crowd that had been inspecting him at his guardian. Latching on to Bruce's side and almost hiding himself behind his form Dick nuzzled into Bruce.
"I ran off for just a second and then I couldn't find you." He mumbled tears shining in his eyes. The protective mama bear side of Bruce, as Dick calls it, reared its ugly head. He felt a burning sensation in his chest and a fire licking up his veins.
Bruce slowly lowered himself to his knees and turned to look Dick in the eyes, "Hey chum it's okay, I've got you now. You worried me when you disappeared like that and I couldn't find you. Stick with me when we're at these things okay? Did anyone touch you? Are you okay?" As he spoke some of his earlier fear returned to his voice but with Dick here in front of him in his arms he was much more settled.
"I'm okay no one touched me much," Dick muttered, sniffling and rubbing his eyes, "I couldn't find you so I left the crowded areas and sat down hoping you'd see me eventually. These people just showed up right before you did. Can we go please? I'm tired." A voice in Bruce's head cooed softly at that. "Of course we can, c'mon."
With that Bruce scooped Dick into his arms, the boy so small and precious feeling in his strong hold. "We'll be taking our leave now if you don't mind." Bruce said, turning on his heel walking to the door, ignoring any protests being said behind him.
Bruce grabbed their coats from the entrance area and waited for their car to be brought around.
Dick was nestled into Bruce's side. Face snug in the crook of his neck, settled firmly against his hip, arms curled up between them, Bruce holding him in place. Soft, even, warm breaths puffed onto Bruce's collarbone and standing outside in an extravagant mansion in the cold waiting for their car Bruce remembered how unsure he was about taking in Dick.
How afraid he was that he wasn't ready or he wasn't what Dick needed. But there, Dick falling asleep within his hold, Bruce looks down at his cargo and thinks that he was right to be afraid of this.
Because something inside Bruce has changed. His heart is no longer the cold shell it was. It's warm and beating and joyful, all because of this precious little boy. All because of his son.
2.
One thing Bruce never thought he'd see first thing in the morning was the batman standing over his bed. Yet, as Bruce woke up, sun streaming through his curtains practically blinding him, he had to admit the vigilante was what he was looking at.
Blinking quickly and rubbing the gunk out of his eyes he looked towards the dark knight as he gingerly sat up, minding his sore ribs.
Gotham's crown prince stared at Gotham's great protector almost in a challenging manner. The Bat stood at the end of his bed though not drooping under the weight of Bruce's glare. Instead, he almost seemed to straighten up even more, stand even taller.
Yes, there the batman stood in all his 4 feet and 1 inches of glory. Heavy army almost sagging down the wirey giggling mass hiding under the cowl. His smile was bright showing his little crooked teeth and a gap where one of his incisors had fallen out recently.
"Hello Batman," said Bruce. Deep voice even more raspy and dark from sleep, rumbling through the air like the promise of thunderstorms. "I didn't think you came out during the day. Is there a villain lurking close by?"
"Yes. The dark and evil Mr. Alfredo is wandering the halls I've heard. Don't fear though civilian, I'll protect you." the bat replied in a little scratchy tone. Bruce was startlingly reminded of a small kitten burrowed in a blanket trying to growl only to be interrupted by its own purrs. He struggled to hold back his smile at that thought.
"Well thank you. We gotta stop Mr. Alfredo though for the safety of Gotham. What do you say Batman? I could be your sidekick?" Bruce said.
"YES AWESOME!" his son Batman shouted, hopping up and down in excitement. Bruce chuckled as he got out of bed, sliding on his slippers.
The dark knight was a bundle of energy, stumbling in the incredibly baggy suit and happily shuffling out the door after looking both directions. He turned around holding a finger to his lips miming to stay quiet before heading down the hall.
Bruce was led through the maze of corridors by the mini figure of vengeance. Heading straight towards the kitchen where Alfred was most likely to be this early in the morning. The heavenly scent of coffee wafted through the air as they got closer to their destination.
Batman stopped in front of Bruce as he reached the doorway, pulling out a- Bruce barely held back his laugh- pulling out a foam baterang. It was the same kind they'd sell in the kids toy section and Bruce didn't know how Dick got his hands on it.
"On my count" the little bat whispered quite loudly, counting down from 3 on his fingers. Then with all the finesse he could manage he spun around the corner shouting out. One finger pointing at the supposed assailant, he winds back his arm and throws his weapon. It sails theough the air slowing dramatically during its travel till it barely glances Alfred's chest.
The butler, playing up on the situation, grasps his chest dramatically, gasps, and then promptly sinks into a chair. "Goodness you got me." He says before his head flopped to the side with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
"HUZZAH!! BATMAN WINS AGAIN!" the hero cried out laughing.
The previously dead man then corrected himself before standing up.
"All right now Master Richard, take off Master Bruce's costume so you can sit down for breakfast." the elderly man said primly as he went back to preparing the meal.
Dick, thankfully, didn't put up any argument and started trying to remove the suit he somehow got himself into. Bruce stooped down helping his son. Carefully removing the armor and simply piling it on the floor to be seen to later.
"C'mon chum, it seems like Alfred's got chocolate chip pancakes for us. Let's get them while they're hot. Maybe he'll even let you have some whip cream on yours if you ask real nice." Bruce Mock whispered to the young boy. He ruffled the boy's hair, making him let out a shriek of a giggle before the child sprinted to the table, crawling up onto his chair.
"Coffee sir?" Alfred asked, walking up next to Bruce offering over the full mug he was holding.
Bryce nodded gratefully towards his pseudo father. "He'll be running around wearing himself out this morning won't he? Practically crawling up the walls. Maybe we'll even find him on the chandelier again."
"Yes, quite likely. The sugar will stir him up even more but he'll tucker out and take a nap after not too long. Reminds me almost of you running up and down the halls screaming as a young lad. Stealing your father's suit jackets and wearing your mother's hats." The old man remarked fondly. "It's good for the manor to have a child within its halls once again."
"Yes," Bruce said, wearing a small smile, heart warm and full as he looked on to the eager boy chowing down on his breakfast. "Yes it is indeed."
3.
It was far later than Bruce usually stayed out patrolling but things kept going wrong.
The night began with its usual Gotham crimes until Arkham had a low level breakout. No high stake villains broke out, but it still meant Batman had to help clean up the mess and wrangle any stray criminals.
Bruce had started to grow lonely on patrol. Dick had left a while ago leaving Gotham wondering where it's Robin went. It was like the ache of a phantom limb for Bruce. A flash of color in his peripherals and it suddenly felt like his eldest boy was next to him once again. Robin's signature laugh practically ringing through the air like the whispers of ghosts.
Jason had found out about Bruce's night life recently though and begged to be let into the fold, to become Robin. And honestly? Bruce hated it.
Dick had been allowed under the mask because he had needed it. He carried so much rage and grief and Bruce in his naive youth thought that the boy needed just what Bruce had needed. By the time Bruce realized his mistake, realized that this precious boy shouldn't be out there fighting and in danger, it was already too late.
Jason was different though. Dick was vengeance and grief and rage but still soft in the way all still innocent and trusting children are. Jason was hardened from the streets, soul darkened from the bruises that were long ago beaten into his skin and pain injected into his heart like the drugs Jason's mother injected into herself. Jason had long ago lost that softness and warmth Dick had when he first came to the manor because at the end of the day, despite the tragedy of the flying Graysons, Dick's home was still a happy one.
Point is Bruce fucked up the first time around but he promised to himself he'd do better by Jason. So when Jason practically begged to be robin Bruce told him no in a way that was so final Bruce thought the issue would be over with.
What he didn't expect was a few days later being on patrol and seeing Robin. Not his Robin though. This Robin was definitely not his now 18 year old son. This Robin was a full foot shorter and half the actual Robin's weight.
After that talk Bruce conceded that he probably wouldn't be able to stop Jason, especially how set he was on becoming Robin. So Bruce decided to do absolutely everything in his power to train Jason to be able to protect himself while wearing the mask.
That was a few months ago and right now all Bruce wanted was to get home. It was around 3 am and he was sore all over and bone tired.
Once he reached the cave Bruce took only enough time to strip off the suit and shower hoping he didn't have any wounds he hadn't noticed and headed up stairs. Alfred had already retired for the night so the house was quiet. A silence that grated on Bruce's ears. As he walked through the house he made his usual stops.
Pausing outside Alfred's door he could hear the light sounds of Alfred's breathing so he moved on. Then Bruce stopped outside of Dick's room. Dick had moved out long ago but the heavily buried, weak, and shrail part of Bruce's heart that he kept locked away, always demanded that he check Dick's room empty of not.
Stepping up to the door Bruce knocked lightly and after waiting 5 beats he opened the door quietly, stepping inside the room. There wasn't a fine layer of dust in the room since Alfred wouldn't allow that, but it was virtually untouched since the boy was last here, even the faint scent of Dick still hung in the air. Bruce took a deep breath in, just holding it, before letting out and quietly mumbling, "g'night chum" as he shuffled out the room.
Once Bruce was out he made his final stop outside of Jason's room to listen for his youngest boy sleeping soundly inside. Bruce stood there for a handful of seconds before he realized that he couldn't hear Jason. A cold jolt shot down his spine as his heart started pounding. He quickly walked to the door where he quietly but insistently knocked and when no answer was heard, began knocking a bit more frantically. When that got no reply Bruce decided to just bite the bullet and he opened the door silently but swiftly in a panicked haze.
The room was empty, was the first thing Bruce registered, and that alone almost sent Bruce into his mama bear mode. Breathing heavily, heart pounding, palms sweaty Bruce scanned the room for anything to point at where his boy went.
Jason's room was always tidy with a small collection of things that was just starting to grow. Luckily before Bruce could really lose it he noticed the bed. While it was still empty the blanket was thrown back as if startled but what staved off Bruce's worry was that bonbon hadn't been left behind. Bonbon being Jason's favorite stuffy that he slept with every night and was fiercely protective over.
As Bruce racked his mind of a place he hadn't yet been that Jason could've went to he remembered what he had told Jason what seemed so long ago. "If I'm ever still not back from patrol and you have a nightmare or just want comfort, feel free to curl up in my bed. Don't worry about asking, I won't get upset, I just want you to know the option is there."
With that Bruce left Jason's room and made a beeline for his own. Walking in quietly his heart stuttered and he finally took a breath as the panic that was bundled up, coiling tight in his chest, dispersed at the sight of the little boy curled up so cozy and secure in Bruce's bed.
Jason had practically folded himself into a ball laying down among Bruce's expensive pillows and blanket clutching Bonbon tightly to his chest. It was a sight Bruce knew he'd cherish forever. A sight that was practically screaming "he trusts you" and "your doing a good job" and "he feels like he he can cone to you for comfort".
Bruce almost cried.
And as Bruce carefully slid into bed doing the best he could not to startle the boy his heart felt warm. Even when Jason started to wake up and Bruce soothed quietly, petting his hair and whispering to his sweet nothings of comfort Bruce couldn't stop the overflowing love he feeling for his son. And when Jason turned and nuzzled into Bruce's chest, huddling in his warmth, Bruce knew that despite the loneliness and the pain that he lost one son, he'd love the one he gained just as much.
He just hoped his boys would learn to love and be grateful for each other too.
4.
Sirens rang through the air as the Batman raced across roof after roof through Gotham. He was on a trail and his mark was moving and moving fast at that.
Batman could practically hear his heartbeat booming in his chest like giant drum being hit with all the players might. His breaths came faster than usual, spurred by his haste and frenzied state.
The night started like it usually would, sky dark, moon hidden behind heavy clouds. Batman didn't think much about it when his com gave a warning beep for an incoming message. Not until he heard the dreaded news that awaited him. There'd been another escape. Another breakout.
So now Batman finds himself here. Flying like a bat out of hell. Soaring on his grappling hook so fast his feet barely have a chance to glance across the gravel topped roofs.
"Batman ETA 1 minute, going dark."
His eyes locked onto his target. Figure still and hunched, dangerously close to the roofs edge.
"You mind stepping back from the edge there? I don't know how you got out but if you cooperate I can try and put a good word in for this excursion to end without any punishment for you. All you have to do is step away from the edge, stand down, and come with me quietly." Batman said, voice carefully neutral. Afraid to startle the target any, knowing that if push came to shove he could lunge over the building's edge if the person lost their footing.
"NNNNGGHHHH!!! B PLEASEEE!! I'm sick and tired of the manor I need to get out." Came the squeaky whine from the young boy in a tone only a prepubescent tween could have.
"Robin this is non-negotiable. If you cooperate Agent A has promised a plate of butterscotch cookies to be waiting back at the manor. You have been benched for a reason, it is not safe to fight crime with the flu and a 102 degree fever." The words came forth a bit farther than Bruce meant for them to be but god dammit his kid is sick and WAY too close to danger for his liking right now.
The pouting 12 year old scuffs his converse on the ground as he thinks over the offer. Honestly Bruce almost preferred having to talk down Gotham's usual terrorists and crazies. At least they didn't try to pull puppy eyes on him.
"Butterscotch cookies?" The boy asked, still sulking too close to the edge.
"Fresh from the oven and even some hot chocolate with extra marshmallows." Bruce was pleading. Oh how the mighty have fallen.
THE Bruce Wayne billionaire extraordinaire, dressed in a bat themed leather suit bribing his fever high kid with ungodly amounts of sugar at 2 am on a school night.
His father is probably laughing his ass off at him from the great beyond. Jason probably up there laughing at him too. Figures the kid Jason would send to him in his time of vulnerability would be just as headache inducing.
"Ok..." came the disgruntled mumble from the child-sized heart attack. Slowly he shuffled away from the edge and without a care in the world Bruce immediately called the batmobile to him and unceremoniously plucked the kid up.
Finally with his youngest in his grasp limply being held bridal style Bruce's heart finally started leveling out into something much more stable and safe.
As soon as the batmobile was stopped Bruce approached gently settling the boy inside while he took up the wheel. The drive back to the cave felt like it took forever and by the time they returned Tim was out cold.
Quietly carrying him up to his room in the manor and settling him in bed, Bruce finally let all his anxiety leach out of him, like a puppet with its strings cut. With one last rueful smile at his pseudo-son Bruce gently brushed his hair from his heated forehead and silently made his way out.
God Bruce needed a drink.
5.
Bruce felt old. Which was ridiculous because he was NOT old. Not at all. It wasn't his fault that vigilante life is hell on the body or that his children were such little feral hellions.
It was a Saturday and instead of getting to enjoy his weekend by relaxing and spending his time with those he cared for most, he instead ended up on the watchtower, 5 hours into a meeting.
It had begun with a conflict over some territorial dispute between two alien groups. One had accidentally insulted the other and now Bruce is just so very tired. The conversation was lost some time ago but Batman's fellow league members had apparently found something worthwhile to argue over because Bruce had one hell of a migraine brewing from the shouting and he just felt old.
As a young adult he never expected his life to become this. Nearly 20 years of dedication to a mission that has stretched far past only himself. A living breathing legend wrought from blood, sweat, tears, and broken bones. Most shocking of all though is father of 8 and pseudo-father of 2 all before reaching 45.
Maybe that's why he feels so old, sitting here side by side with ancient heroes of old, warriors beyond imagination, and the grating rookies who think they hung the moon, yet are younger than at least 3 of his children. Have less experience than over half his children too.
Bruce hears a ping in his com and as much as he'd love to take the incoming call he's receiving, he knows who it's from and knows better than to handle personal information within the area of the League. When he gets a text message from said caller though, he feels less bad about diverting his attention from the unimportant argument occurring at the table.
"Batman, do you have something more vital to handle than a possible intergalactic war?" The voice rings out coming from Green Lantern. The kid isn't bad at his job and he truly cares about his work with the lantern Corp but he's quick to anger and thinks he's a bit of a hot shot. Evident by the dirty look he's now giving Batman.
"Apologies Green Lantern, my input was needed elsewhere but I promise I am in fact paying attention." Green Lantern doesn't look pleased by his response but he also knows better than to question Batman too much.
Bruce has to grit his teeth when more texts come in over the next hour, and he genuinely feels like there's going to be nothing left of his teeth at all when the texts turn to calls, which turn to beeps and notifications within his cowl. This is not going to end well.
Bruce was just about ready to simply excuse himself from the meeting since it seemed like it'd be getting nowhere any time soon, when a mechanized voice called through the intercoms announcing an arrival from the zeta tubes.
"Batman- 08"
The silence that suddenly hung in the air of the meeting hall was so thick it could've been cut with a knife. Said knife was strapped to the back of the child that entered the meeting room after a minute, carrying an aura that promised death to whomever stepped in his way.
"I am under the assumption that his parade of imbeciles is the reason to which father has yet to return and has subsequently been stuck wasting time with your worthless bickering? Yes?" The boy asked. Now that he was closer it was evident that he wasn't as young as he first seemed, instead favoring more towards a young teenager on the cusp of hitting a growth spurt in which he would shoot up like a beanstalk.
At the teens' arrival several members of the justice league had taken themselves to half baked defensive positions. It was obvious they were caught off guard and confused by this turn of events.
Seeming to realize that the group of supers weren't going to answer him, the teen promptly turned his glower onto Batman. Brooding silence meeting bristling fury the tension racketed up even further until like breaking the ice Batman simply let out a deep sigh before looking up as if begging for patience.
"Robin you know the rules. You aren't supposed to report to the watchtower without my explicit permission or an emergency situation. Especially when there is an important meeting happening that you knew was occurring and purposefully interrupted." The look he got for that was not amused. God he felt old.
"I understand the rules father, I simply chose to ignore them. Todd is currently playing Russian roulette with Brown using live rounds. Richard is attempting to stop them from killing themselves but has ended up just running around frantically. Matt and Terry broke into Richard's candy stash and are now experiencing something called a 'sugar crash' and won't stop crying. Thomas, Cain, and Alfred are on a grocery run and won't return for some while. Oh, and I believe our family is finally free of the shame Drake brings upon us all because he either drank himself into a caffeine induced coma or my prayers have been answered and his heart stopped. Either way the babies are upset and keep asking for you and I promised I'd bring you back to them after I fetched you from your mediocre team of mentally unstable individuals." The teen said with all the casualness in the world.
Dead silence.
The varying league members stared at the boy and the Batman all wearing looks of shock or confusion. All except J'onn who simply gave Bruce a look of pity and understanding. J'onn was Bruce's favorite.
With a quick movement Bruce rose from his chair feeling panic ratcheting back up at the situation.
"Robin, you have my explicit permission to attempt to subdue Hood, no vital injuries. Tell Spoiler that if she helps you she'll get one waffle meal whenever she wants breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Give Nightwing a bag to calm down with because he's probably already hyperventilating and would need it. Signal, Black Bat, and Agent A should be home soon so don't worry about them. I'll take Red Robin to the cave to run diagnostics, there's a chance Agent A just finally drugged him since he's been up for close to 72 hours. And I'll handle the little ones." Bruce says whilst walking towards his son tapping away at the screen in his gauntlet.
"I- but- what- BATMAN you can't just leave. What about the peace talks?!" Green Lantern called from the table sounding affronted.
"Give the Sudnue people the shaded forest territory and the Osod people the more dry desert territory. That's the territory they wanted in the first place they're all just throwing a tantrum cause someone said 'their nose looks weird'. If they're willing to start a war over that small of a comment then let them because their ridiculousness is going to get them killed all on their own. Now I will be leaving." And with that he strode out the conference room. Bruce could feel the satisfaction rolling off Damian of him getting to be the one to mouth off at the justice league and bring their father home early.
"You know you never mentioned Oracle." Bruce told his son as they approached the zetas.
"Tch of course not, Gordon is a force to be reckoned with and you simply would've been unable to stop her if she wanted to wreak mayhem. But as for her whereabouts she's just reading in your study." Damian replied with a light shrug.
As they stepped into the zeta tubes blue light engulfed them until they found themselves standing in the cave. Bruce was happy to be home and god did he love his kids but man do they ever make him feel old.
"Alright then remember Damian not killing or mauling Jason and please minimize damage to the house." The feral glittering almost manic grin he received before his son bolted to the stairs didn't not bode well. The screams that echoed through the manor not even a minute later really didn't bode well.
Bruce definitely had a migraine.
+1
It was too quiet...
It had been a long and hard patrol last night with an Arkham breakout that had ended up running patrol far later than was ever wanted. By the time everyone was back in the cave and debrief had been concluded the sun was just cresting the horizon and everyone was practically dead on their feet.
It's typical for the morning (read afternoon) after a patrol to be slow coming but something was off and Bruce could tell. Either distant voices would carry or the thuds of flips and tricks would echo through the halls yet as Bruce sat up in bed and creeped to the door there was nothing but dead silence.
Quickly Bruce exited his room gently knocking on the doors to his children's rooms before peering inside. His blood turns ice cold and all he can hear is the pounding of his heart. They're gone. All of them. Not a single room was occupied.
Taking a deep breath he tries to think rationally. Maybe they're all downstairs in the living room. Maybe they're all in the cave. Yes, the cave they're probably doing inventory or something, that's quiet.
OH WHO IS HE KIDDING THEY CANT BE QUIET!! WHATS WRONG?!? WHERE'S HIS KIDS!?!?!? WHERE?!?!?
Frantically Bruce races through the house on his search. Cinema room? No. Dick's gym? Empty. Study? Nope. Library?! NO! WHERE?!?
Taking the now main spaces by storm Bruce is practically in hysterics as Alfred would say "Running like a chicken with its head cut off." Sweeping through the living room with no luck he careens into the kitchen where a disaster zone practically awaits him. Bags of various items ripped to shreds, jars and glasses knocked over, and most alarmingly red splattered everywhere. It's smeared across the cabinets and floors, smudged horrific hand prints dragging across the fridge, even some on the chandelier of all things.
Oh god... Oh god no... please please let them be okay...
Bruce felt like he was losing it. Breath erratic, heart booming in his chest, ears ringing, and eyes faintly burning. "DICK?! JASON? ALFRED! ANYONE?!? "
Where could they be? Where hasn't he LOOKED?? Thoughts racing as he spins around in place retracing his steps. THE BALLROOM!!
Charging like a racehorse to the finish line he bounds through the halls as fast as his body can take him. Barely throwing the ballroom doors open before he slams face first into them he skids to a halt in shock, breath freezing and heart stuttering.
"SURPRISE!!!" Over a dozen voices ring out at once. The ballroom is full of his family. His children form a crescent shape in the middle right in front of him with his father to the side, his cousin, her main family, and various other less direct family he's discovered (read adopted) over the years.
As suddenly and violently as it had filled him his fear rushes out of him and his vitals gradually return to normal. Taking in everyone again and cataloging his surroundings Bruce takes a step forward.
"What-" he starts before he sees what they're all surrounding. A huge cake with the ugliest icing job imaginable. It looked like it had been a lovely light gray before it was doused and smeared in vibrant red frosting. Like a toddler finger painting for the first time. And right on top in Jason's delicate slanted scrawl is a message that truly brings the Batman to tears.
"To the mediocre best dad in the world. Sorry for making your hair gray so fast. We all love you. Happy father's day dad." Followed by varied signatures in all different colors of frosting for each of his children.
"I- I don't- what-" Bruce stuttered as he looked around at all the people he loved most in the world. To his precious children, his family he adored, even friends new and old. "I don't know what to say..." He muttered as a small smile slowly crawled up his face, frown lines vanishing like they were never there.
"How about start with 'thankyou Jay-lad you're my favorite' and end with telling off these heathens for fucking up my cake." His third eldest snarked. As if triggered by Jason breaking the ice half his children launched themselves at him, wrapping him in a tight hug while the other half grumbled but nonetheless made their way over to join.
Various "love you B"'s and "love you dad"'s rang from the surrounding hoard and Bruce simply basked in it. Later there'd be cake and gifts and conversations to be had. Yet for now he just hugged back a silent tear falling down his face.
Bruce remembered how he used to be when he first started. Always claiming about how he only worked alone. Now looking at the man who raised him and always stood beside him, to his sweet children he'd do anything for, and his loyal friends and family all he could think was 'what bullshit'.
The Batman was never alone, and well, Bruce wouldn't have it any other way.