Alfred: Master Bruce, Damian is spending one night with John. You will be fine.
Bruce: Yes. Of course. I, a middle aged man, can go without coddling one of my children for one night.
Bruce:
Bruce, already dialing numbers: Tim, would you like to spend the night at the manor? We could patrol together like old times. We haven't done that since you told me you were dating boy Stephanie.
Tim: You mean when I came out as bi on Christmas on top of gargoyles??
Bruce: . . . Is that a yes, or?
Tim: No, sorry, I have a date with Bernard and the night off... I'm free Friday though! And I have this really cool case—
Bruce: Okay bye.
Bruce: Dammit! I hate when they have relationships and lives outside crime fighting.
Alfred: I am aware, Master Bruce.
Bruce, dialing another number: Hey, chum, are you busy tonight?
Dick: . . . Uh.
Dick, looking around the literal spaceship he's in currently:
Dick, looking to the Titans:
Dick, looking at the bandages covering most of his torso:
Dick: Yes—
Bruce, hanging up: I did not adopt this many kids to never be able to see any of them. I know you said no more, Alfred, but—
Alfred: Not unless you marry one of them many fine women you have charmed and have a child that does not dress as a flashlight, storybook character, or animal.
Bruce, groaning as he dials another number: Cass! Sweetheart! My only daughter! How are you? We haven't seen each other in a while. Would you like to spend the night and patrol together?
Cassandra: Sorry, can't.
Bruce: Why not?
Cassandra: It is... personal.
Bruce: . . . You guys have personal lives now?!
Cassandra: Tim is missing a spleen.
Bruce: Tim is irrelevant until he breaks up with his boyfriend and buries himself into his work again.
Cassandra: . . .
Bruce: That sounded bad.
Cassandra: Yes... Okay bye I'm going to go have rooftop sex with Stephanie now.
Bruce, staring at the phone as he's hung up on:
Bruce: . . . Do I have more kids?
Alfred: Do you?
Bruce: I do...
Bruce, reluctantly dialing another number:
Bruce: Hello, my sweet darling angel baby boy.
Jason, with gunfire in the background, deadpanning: Hi, Dad.
Jason, shooting two men in the head:
Bruce: So, how have you been?
Jason: I shot the Joker in the dick last week.
Bruce: And I'm very proud of you for avoiding anything important. How has being a drug lord been?
Jason, sighing heavily, running a hand down his helmet-face: I sold a lot of heroine and meth. Is that what you wanna hear? That meth sales are up?
Bruce: It's better than the cyanide craze that happened last month when Gotham banned divorce for a weekend.
Jason: Yeah. So. Did you need something, or..?
Bruce: Oh. Right.
Bruce: Would you like to stay at the manor tonight?
Jason: . . . Who's asking?
Bruce: Me.
Jason: Oh god.
Jason: Did Damian die again?
Bruce: No, no, he's just—
Jason: Where's Tim?!
Bruce: He's dating boy Stephanie.
Jason: F*CK, I HATE BLONDE PEOPLE! Always ruining my nights!
Jason: Dick!?
Bruce: He's somewhere doing something. He's alive. That's as much as I check on usually with that one.
Jason: What is Cassandra doing!? She's literally unemployed!
Bruce: Stephanie.
Jason: Is she trying to bag the entire family? Good for her, but dammit!
Jason: Okay. Uh. Duke?!
Bruce: He's apparently not mine "legally" and has a "Mom."
Jason: What about Selina!?
Bruce: Why don't you want to spend time with your Father? :(
Jason: Why don't you want alone time?
Bruce: Jason Peter Todd-Wayne, name a full year I went without adopting another child when the manor was empty.
Jason: . . . Damn it! I need to get a girlfriend! Or Roy in a dress! Or just Roy!
Bruce: Get custody of his daughter as well if you do. I miss having a child around :(
Jason: Yeah, but Gotham citizens did a petition to stop you from adopting kids.
Bruce: I don't understand why :/
Jason: Bane wrote a ten paragraph letter as to why.
Bruce: . . . So, you'll come over? :)
Jason: Fine! Sure! Whatever! But you're sitting in on the zoom call I have tonight with my therapist!
Bruce: Hrn... A fine sacrifice. I'll get the photo albums ready.