bruce keeps pictures off all his kids in his wallet
or bruce's way to carry all his kids with him
he has many wallets; close to 5 that are just fakes, because he’s not stupid and lives in crime-ridden, poverty-stricken gotham, and a further 6 that have a mix of real and fake cards just in case. he’s a paranoid man. but that doesn’t account for the one he keeps by the front enterance and takes with him everywhere he goes. it doesn’t have any real value, in fact, he took the fake cards out and replaced them with his favourite pictures of his kids, and yet its one of his most prized possessions.
there are 4 photos of dick. the first was taken by alfred, who captured one of dick and bruce’s first breakfasts together after patrol. dick’s leaning his head on bruce’s arm his own folded together, no longer clad in the beaming robin costume. bruce has awkwardly angled himself toward dicks plate to cut up the stack of pancakes and fruits he helped himself to. it’s one of bruce’s favourite memories of dick as a boy.
another photo is a school picture. 7th grade and dick has this sickly sweet smile and a flick of hair sticking up. the dimple on his left cheek pops to distract from the yellowed bruise just barely-there from patrol a few nights earlier.
the next is a picture alfred took (again) but of a slightly older dick and bruce posing in their costumes. dicks arm is stretched up toward bruce’s shoulders, left dimple popped once again. bruce is also fully costumed but grinning like he’s an unburdened man. he knows it’s a risk keeping it around, what if someone saw? but it’s one of the last times he and robin!dick we’re on good terms and he just can’t help himself. sometimes he just misses his robin. his boy and it helps to keep the photo close.
the last photo is of dick, an adult now, and himself on one of the wayne manor balconies. they’re leaning against the railing, talking. it was the first time in years dick had stayed in the manor long enough to feel his presence as something more than a memory. they weren’t reconciling, everything was…too fresh, still, for that. rather, they were watching little jason practicing his back handspring or some other acrobat-esque trick dick had been teaching him in the front garden. it was sweet. bruce is glad alfred is always lurking with that camera.
jason only has one photo left in the wallet post-death. bruce took them out, not because he was any less family, any less important, rather he wanted them framed. he wanted people to come by at the galas and parties he threw and he wanted them to see what he saw in his little boy. bruce loved jason, there was no way he’d let anyone forget. exactly 14 photos from bruce’s personal collection made their way around the manor, except for one. it’s a picture of jason when he got sick after a long stakeout. nose pink, eyes low, he’s leaning on bruce as they sit on the couch. another photo taken by alfred. bruce says he can’t risk people seeing them without their masks on, but everyone knows it brings comfort to bruce to know he, even if only one time, was able to take care of jason. he made him feel better. helped him, even. it’s a memory he hopes to never lose.
the only photo of tim in the wallet is a group picture with damian, dick, and himself (dick is holding a little redhood plush). dick’s posing, squeezing the plush at the waist so its arms go up in faux-excitement, bruce is fussing with damian’s bow tie, lip caught between his teeth, and tim’s staring at the window just out of frame. if anyone asks, he’d say he just saw a bird or the moon was particularly bright, but tim is 27% sure he saw someone perched in the trees. he’d later come to find out that had been jason, and now considers the photo a family picture.
damian has three photos. the first from when he attended his first gala, clad in the smallest little suit with a little tie to match (bruce actually died a little when he first saw damian in it, looking up with those big green eyes and hands moving in a nervous twitch). the second is a photo of him asleep on titus. he’s got ear plugs in and papers strewn around him, some drawings some mock ups of bat-prototypes. bruce just thinks it’s actually the sweetest thing he’s ever seen. it’s nice for him to know damian can relax and be normal sometimes (relatively).
the last photo is when damian was still at the league. it was taken by jason and features little baby damian holding a sword too big for him in his training gear. he’s got a grin wider than bruce often sees as he struggles to balance the adult-sized sword. he’s found it one night on damian’s bedside table when tucking him in, gaze lingering on it for far too long so damian just sort of offered it to him (he reassured bruce that jason had digital copies so it didn’t matter if he took the physical one). bruce doesn’t agree with the leagues training. he doesn’t agree with their methods, ideology, mission, but there’s something about seeing his son so little that makes his heart ache a bit. he yearns to know babian but settles for the picture.
cass is a bit different. when she was first adopted, first came to the manor, bruce felt lost. he loved her, of course, he loved all his kids but he was afraid of hurting her or scaring her off with cameras and home videos. so, instead of photos capturing how she sits beside him when he reads in the library or how she looks when bruce comes to check on her on non-patrol nights (just to make sure she’s okay), he folds a piece of paper she had been doodling on one night and slots it into the wallet.
it’s only small with little shapes or smiley faces, the loading symbol on the batcomputer. she was really only copying how damian liked to draw when she left it sitting beside bruce on accident. she came back to see it angled toward him and a batman grinning ear to ear (it reminds alfred of that one picture he took with dick). she’s not sure if he understands it wasn’t necessarily meant for him, but she likes to think of how he cherishes it.
or the first time damian calls bruce ‘baba’, he swears it was a top 5 moment.
it’s after his first patrol; what was meant to be a quick night out, nothing too difficult, turned into a stake out-combat hybrid lasting 4 hours too long and maybe damian got slapped around a little too much, hesitated too much and he’s tired. and sore.
bruce leads him to the batmobile with a warm hand on his shoulder, buckling him in. and he doesn’t say anything about damian curling into the seat, shoes and all, despite chastising tim a week before and damian just feels so nice. driving over a particularly rough pot hole, he stirs, murmuring out a small ‘baba?’, concern that’s quietly shushed with bruce patting him on his knee. it’s so sweet and bruce gets a little lightheaded. he’s baba? dysfunction and all, damian wants him to be his baba? tears.
it took another year for it to become commonplace. bruce is picking him up from the animal shelter, an unusual glean in his eye when he comes bounding over to the car. he’s careless with his pleather backpack as he throws it at his father, excitedly exclaiming at bruce about how the old cat with one eye got adopted. “baba! baba! mink got adopted!” and bruce sort of just phases everything else out with a stupid smile because he’s missed being baba.
bonus: its damians first christmas and he’s spent it right next to bruce. hands folded carefully (obediently) in his lap, he watches as tim and dick exchange gifts when bruce suddenly stands and moves toward the grandeous tree, peeling off a stray piece of wrapping paper as he goes, to pick up a single present. it’s a small little box, wrapped differently (worse) than the other presents he’s opened so far and it’s heavy in his hands. heavy with something he can’t quite place, a feeling that sets between his ribs and almost tugs when he thinks too hard about it. it’s some kind of heirloom or something personalised to damian and this little boy, who strikes with a heat bruce is a little unfamiliar with, just sort of holds it. his lip starts to quiver a bit and bruce just leans in, pressing an almost-there kiss to the crown of his head. “for me?” “of course. who else?” “thank you, baba.” it ends up on his nightstand and bruce actually cries like he has to sit down because he’s just so happy and sobs. and when damian eventually moves out, it’s the first thing he puts in his new apartment.
or an unfortunate mission gives Tim the opportunity of his life
it was supposed to be a simple mission. bruce needed some intel before he could make a case against poison ivy to gordon and decided to use a shortcut with his truth serum. unfortunately, in a rare mistake, he forgot to account for the fact that ivy had developed an intolerance to it. even going as far as to create her own version to infect him. so, now, bruce is back at the batcave and lamenting every decision he’s made today.
tim’s in the batcave when he returns, red robin costume halfway off with his cape wrapped halfway around him and domino splayed on the desk in front of him.
“jeez bruce, you need to make the cave warmer.” he says with a shiver, eyes darting back to the screen as bruce continues to the med bay. “bats don’t like the cold. It keeps them away from all the tech here. and you kids. it’s safer if they are kept away.” and tim’s sorta just like. oh okay, flippantly, and goes back to what he was doing before.
he doesn’t sense anything’s wrong yet. why would he? he only notices when bruce stalks back over after 20 or so minutes quietly bickering with alfred. “sorry b. i was trying to find that info you needed for two-face, but he’s scrubbed the cctv clean” and he looks sort of dejected and bruce knows what’s about to leave his mouth, he knows there’s no way around this, but still he walks closer.
“its okay tim. the quality of work–the amount of work you do for me is more than i could ever ask for. you’re just a boy. i don’t need you to be perfect.” and tim just stands there like o.o okay.
they don’t talk much after that. bruce is somewhere between abashed and gleeful or maybe something else he can’t quite identify and tim looks paler than usual. “is everything okay, bruce?” tim settles on. it feels easier than the silence they’re sitting in.
“truth serum”
“oh. oh”
bruce knows tim’s a little shit. he knows whats coming and, for a reason he can’t quite find, he doesn’t hate it.
“so…you’re like, honest now?”
“for now. it’s not lethal”
“cool, cool. so, out of interest, what did you get me for my birthday?”
bruce’s deadpan lasts only 4 seconds. only 4 seconds worth of restraint where he’s thanking everything in the universe that was tim’s question. “i got you that oreo cake, filled with the good cream. and i’ve been working on a new version of your laptop. better capabilities, more battery, larger storage. it has a tracking device because i’m afraid of you leaving. i’m terrified of losing you, obviously, but if you left and didn’t come back…i think that would be worse”
alfred drops the tray of tea he carried down. somewhere between shocked and maybe a little scared. not of bruce, no, rather for bruce. “b…i’m not gonna…i have ties here–too many friends!” tim throws out with a chortle. “i’m not–you don’t have to worry about me.” he settles deeper into his seat, eyes boring holes into the desk in front when bruce, who had been sat just beside him, sighs. “okay. i–that’s good to know, chum.”
he figures they’ll both agree in silence to just never speak about this, maybe even forget about the interaction entirely. but tim might just spend the next few nights thinking about how bruce called him chum. bruce, who hasn’t called anyone but damian ‘chum’ in the last 5 months, called him chum.
jason todd has a nose piercing. he got it somewhere after he came back from the dead and before showing up as redhood to batman the first time because sweet baby jason who had a self imposed bed time and wouldn’t watch movies ma15+ even if bruce said it was okay is still in there somewhere. he needs to start small in rebellion and figures it’s a good way to start.
he unmasks infront of bruce (with the domino) and bruce has a split second where he goes “surely that’s not jason. his nose is pierced” before realising and gets a little teary-eyed because jason’s a big boy now who can get his nose pierced and have autonomy.
it sets off a chain reaction of piercings starting with dick (who already had his ears pierced) getting seconds and then a lip ring. damian does it for dick (to bond) and it gets infected. tim then parent-trap-style gets conner to pierce one ear but it gets infected, too.
bruce is just stunned because there’s no reason for a) his adult son to not go to a piercer and b) tim to not just like ask. or go get it professionally done without telling bruce (because when has he ever listened to bruce anyway).
or little robins can only handle so much of Gotham winter
thinking about how cold gotham gets at night and since jason (&dick)’s robin suits only have short sleeves and no pants they shelter under bruce’s cape for warmth, standing in front of him with their little heads peeking out of the front. the occasional prod of a bat-tool or the rough kevlar cape doesn’t seem to deter them because there’s nothing like sinking back into the familiar warmth on a long, cold gotham night.
for jason, it first happened during a stakeout sometime in november when the cold had settled in over a month ago and the wind bit with a vitriol only gotham at night could produce. school was out for the week so bruce saw no harm in letting jason stay out most of the night on a lead he wasn’t 100% sure on. some just-bankrupt company that’s just had hundreds of thousands of dollars put into their reemergence and (according to some less-than reputable intel) and two face was allegedly involved but it’s not looking good. they’ve been out for hours at this point and jason’s starting to shiver, so bruce (who’s still reeling from whatever happened with dick) tentatively walks over to where jason’s standing and wordlessly mirrors what became instinct with dick and flourishes his cape over jason who sinks back into the warmth, relishing in the soft pressure of bruce’s arms against his shoulders, hands clasping at the top of jason’s chest. for the first few moments, jason indulges in the warmth until the tip of his nose pinks and he’s having to nuzzle into the length of cape that covers bruce’s arms to stop the biting cold, but at least he’s not so upset about the bust anymore.
dick first experienced it when him and bruce had been dragged into a long investigation at a crime scene in south heights where bruce was entertaining an extensive conversation with commissioner gordon. dick stood beside bruce, fiddling with his own cape, after talking to everyone that would entertain a conversation with him about the case or literally anything else when the conversation finally stilled as gordon answered a question from one of his men. bruce took the opportunity to grab at dicks shoulders with a gentle squeeze and a whispered “soon, chum”, pulling him flush against his front, cape draping over dicks shoulders. at this point, dick’s relatively tall (taller than jason would be at the same age) so he stands just under the bat symbol and is able to comfortably slot himself against his dad. turning back around, gordon stalls for a moment, startled at the face of the little boy wonder peeking out of the dark knights cape (whose face is as stoic as ever, contrary to the beaming light that is little dick from under the cape) before letting out a curt chuckle in the deep of his throat and continuing with what he was saying.
bonus: the first time it happens to damian, he reacts defensively, grabbing at bruce’s arm and heaving him over himself to land bruce flat on his back with a pained huff (no one is surprised) (bruce cries later, probably).
imagine everything that happened in racoon city happening in Gotham. bruce, with Tim, Dick, Cass, Jason, and Damian. they’re on their way into the city and lose connection with Alfred and all the planes and stuff so they aren't able to get their gear so they make their way into the gcpd.
gordon is there, still and by some miracle with detective Montoya. they're alive and conscious, but locked in his office. cash has turned along with all the other officers, the perps managed to break out save for some in their holding cells. the whole city is in ruins.
Tim is in charge of keeping Damian safe in their safe room--it's just the evidence locker, but it's stocked with armour and weapons. bruce doesn't use any of the guns, but resigns that the zombies in the gcpd are far from human, so he doesn't make a fuss when Tim picks then up, and he especially doesn't make a fuss when Dick, Jason, and Cass take them.
while Damian and tim stay in the evidence locker stockpiling, organising and trying all the stations on the radio they found, Dick and Jason explore. they’re looking for a way out, survivors, food, or really anything that would help them.
Bruce and Cass, however, make their way to Jim's office to find him. thanks to batman's recent success, however, bruce and cass come face to face with zombified versions of batman's coterie of supervillains. it affects dick and Jason, too, who double team two face and poison ivy.
maybe they find gordon and Montoya, and while getting them back to the safe room, gordon gets bit and lunges for Cass. of course, bruce won't let anything happen to his daughter, and takes gordon's gun to shoot him. something something angst.
bonus: mr. x is bane who is equally as scary (if not more)
bonus bonus: talia is similar to ada, working to dispel and contain the outbreak while seducing bruce.
or how the robins each influenced the design of the signature robin suit
not proofread. I also know jack about technical jargon so.
I love the idea of the robin costume gradually getting more like armoured as time goes on. like, batman's on his 5th(ish) robin and he has the nuance and experience of patching up scraped knees and elbow bumps to wrap the youngest robin in what is armoured bubble wrap.
it started with dick. he was barely double digits when he came into the role, and so bruce only let him out on cases where it was investigative with minimal (if any) fighting. he didn't need the armour or the protection, so bruce let him have (mostly) free reign of designing his costume. then everything happens and dick leaves his role as robin. but during his time, bruce would notice how his knees and elbows ran a hot, angry red after each patrol. even if no actual fighting occurred, the cold or the climbing and parkouring rooftop to rooftop was starting to wear the skin of his knees down. and when this fighting did happen, bruce noticed his elbows taking most of the blunders.
to be fair, toward the end dick was fighting more and it scared bruce, but, dick was gone before he could start developing the robin suit to be more suited to vigilantism. bruce swore up and down that he would never have another robin after dick, but on nights where he'd read a new case file about a villain he and dick had fought, or he hears news of what's happening in bludhaven, he starts to design more advanced versions of the robin suit. its nothing incredible, the changes are minimal, but he figures if dick was to ever come back to him and abandon nightwing, he would be prepared.
then came Jason who was older, more experienced in life by this point, and had a thirst for justice. bruce knew he couldn't gradually introduced Jason in like he had dick so he bought himself time in developing Jason's suit for months and months until he got to a point where a) Jason was getting too ansty and it could be dangerous and b) he had nothing left to change. and so he revealed this new robin suit designed with the nuance he had from dicks experiences (and the many scenarios that kept him up at night about everything that could go wrong).
first, it was the kneepads. and elbow pads (think this). they were designed to take the impact of most damage robin could face, reinforced with the newest weave of kevlar surrounding the thin carbon fibre plates. then, the shoes. the soles were fitted with extra-durable material that was extra-lightweight for little Jason, not to mention the emergency button within the sole itself, settled right next to slight tracks so he could manoeuvre in any terrain. his gloves had the same heat and ice protections as the top and shorts that proved useful if he ever got into, say...an explosion of some sort.
Jason loved it, but, just like with dick: things don't last forever. to be fair, he was mostly forced out of that role entirely by unsuspecting circumstances, but it only gave bruce more material.
again, he hadn't planned on another robin, but some part of him was almost comforted by making new alterations to the old robin suits. on the other hand, it worked as a sort of self harm for him--near torturing himself going back over what he could've done differently. what more he could've done.
then came Tim. his first ever robin outing was dressed in an earlier jaybin costume than the one he died in (without the knee and elbow pads--this scared bruce immensely the first time he saw it). bruce, driving home semi delirious with discowing on one side, this new (strange?) kid dressed head to toe in his dead sons uniform and Alfred in the front after an encounter gone wrong with Harvey (read: a lonely place of dying) was doing his head in. but not as much as this new kid, dick, and Alfred were about hiring the kid to be the new robin.
to his dismay and better judgement, bruce did. this time, the robin uniform had full coverage, save for the arms, with that same heat and ice protection, kevlar was weaved into any area he could find, and metal plates reinforced the body's most important areas. hardened gauntlets connected into uber protective elbow pads, leaving minimal space open only so that, if need be, Tim could rip the suit of at a moments notice. too bad Tim stopped being robin for a time because bruce was (somewhat) okay with the protections in that version of the costume. then
there was Steph.
bruce isn't dumb. he knows the dangers of being a) a person in Gotham, b) a vigilante in Gotham, c) a woman in Gotham, and d) a woman vigilante in Gotham. so, with some stylistic changes for her in the form of a longer top, a bright red headband, and a matching set of hair bands his design upgrades largely revolve around this. the headband is fitted with a tracking device and the hairbands are reinforced to hold her entire body weight and then maybe bruce, as well. just in case.
her domino is updated, too. the lenses, fitted with a recording device now has an audio option (somehow). the buckle of her belt is fitted to shock anyone at a moments notice, and, the tips of her gloves can be rubbed together to produce another electric shock, in case she can't reach the buckle. Stephanie 100% uses this on Tim later. the tips of her boots are reinforced with steel. and, most importantly, the the big robin 'R' on her chest actives an immediate alarm straight to bruce, Alfred, the batcave, or whoever is covering for any one of them. that, too, is fitted with an audio recording feature, just in case.
bruce is particularly proud of the advancements he's made on steph's suit. he feels relatively comfortable letting her out to robin every night, but it's not enough. their differences, her not listening, and his fears get the best of them and her brand new suit barely gets worn in.
when Damian arrives, bruce adopts a lot of Steph's design into his own (save for the headband and hairbands). there aren't a lot of changes to the function of the suit, but one thing he finally puts in is full sleeves. bruce remembers, even back with dick, how the robins all used to wrap their capes around themselves for warmth. he figured movement was a greater pro than the con of sometimes getting cold. but now? bruce installs longer sleeves that are made up of carefully weaved plates of thin metal encased in kevlar. they're so small, so lightweight, that Damian actually doesn't notice until bruce allows him creative direction for some design changes.
another thing bruce adds are those new lace-up boots for Damian. a larger, more reasonable part of him knows this is because the boots provide a greater range of motion than the previous versions, but also because they provide more protection. but a smaller (far more ashamed) part of him believes this is because he likes parenting Damian. he likes lacing up his boots before every patrol (he does one, Dami does the other). he likes the short chats they have, just between them. he likes when Dami sits in his chair--its presence near the computer bay is large and looming, but seeing little Dami sat with an impatient pout and his knee extended, waiting for bruce? its heaven.
or red hood got sloppy and paid dearly for it (he had to see his father again)
not proofread
the Red Hood was fiercely independent. rarely giving any of the bats the time of day night in or out of costume, until an unfortunate fall and a series of bad luck landed him cowering in a corner, clutching at one of the many wounds he had acquired over the past 2.5 hours chasing around someone definitely not worth it. despite this fierce independence, Jason couldn't help but thank whatever ungodly force of the universe allowed for batman's patrol route to impede his own on this very night.
the goons cornering Jason had been swiftly dealt with, whisked off by none other than the third robin, when bruce had all but sprinted over to him.
"red hood? what's your status?" bruce asked, holding Jason's shoulders back to look down at him and his wounds, which was only met with a curt fuck off, old man.
bruce had not fucked off, panicked eyes moving over the spots of red (more likely, it was the minimal spots of not red his eyes were looking for) before he asked again, "jason where are you hurt." despite all his young adult angst and unyielding grudges, Jason was empathetic at heart. he understood what this was, why bruce had called him that, why bruce was clutching his head as though he was worried it would lull back as it once had.
he didn't allow himself the satisfaction of scolding The Batman for his lack of codenames, instead, he pulled his leather jacket off, giving it to bruce as though asking silently for his father to take care of the many injuries where he himself could not.
bruce did, pressing the material so tightly around Jason's torso that he wondered if he could breathe well enough before possible the worst thing that possibly could've happened in that moment occurred. bruce picked him up.
picked is relative, more like hauled Jason's semi-limp body into his, arms curling under his knees, prompting a strained "what the fuck!?" from Jason. he had managed to wrap his cape around jasons back, resting it on the front of his torso for whatever reason--comfort? extra padding to stop the bleeding? whatever it was, Jason couldn't help but remember it fondly.
the Batmobile was only down the alley, barely 20 metres, but in the time it had taken them to get there, Jason begun to struggle with keeping himself in the moment, not falling back to his many memories of being stuffed under bruce's cape for whatever reason during his patrols as robin. he wasn't sure if it was the concussion or the first bit of warmth and familiarity--safety-- he had felt from bruce since years before his death.
he was physically fine in the end, of course he was, but that moment of reflexic care from bruce, the warmth of the cape, the strong grounding sensation of being pushed against his fathers chest, arms protective around him, clung to him like a parasite. but that was a problem for another day. Jason had to figure out how to sneak out of the batcave's medbay without Alfred or bruce noticing or seeing one of the many other children they both took care of (and if he just so happened to forget how to escape effectively and found himself back under the care and concern of bruce, that was only for him to know).
