Damian, handing Bruce a piece of paper with a very neat calendar on it: father, I will be taking a step back from my participation in our nightly patrols. I have carefully considered factors such as, but not limited to, school tests, most likely days for breakouts and when other people will be available. Here is my schedule.
Bruce: any particular reason you are stepping back from Robin?
Damian: I have reached an acceptable age and am by far mature enough, so I will be participating in Ramadan this year, father. Afterwards I will pick my duties up as normal, but with changed sleeping and eating patterns, this is the most logical step for now.
Bruce, who grew up with a jewish mother and christian father who were intent to raise him on some weird mix of the two, then a second father who was atheist, proceeded to lose his entire way in any form of religion due to losing himself in his teen years, took in Jewish boy, then a catholic one with religious trauma, then an atheist one who had no idea how to even approach the idea of religion, followed up by a pagan girl and already making seven different mental lists of things he will need to research, how to add aspects of Islam into their weird family holidays and trying desperately to show his support for his son: ....hnn
I do like tim as a sad lil guy but also... He is a freak my dudes. If you're gonna write him as basically living alone in a museum? he would love it don't pretend otherwise
He'd sing indie songs to a stuffed tiger you know he would. He'd install flickering lights to 'improve the vibe'. Tims a lil goblin who likes to stalk Batman, he's not gonna sit in a blanket sobbing because he's alone in a big house are you kidding me
He probably tried to get a colony of bats to move in, he definitely has a murder of crows that he's befriended and I believe with all my heart that somewhere in there he has pet leeches.
Like yeah maybe he's lonely but he's not a normal dude, he didn't think "human contact", he tried to bring a badger home or some shit.
Idk I'm very tired and maybe I haven't slept in two days but this makes sense in my head lol
Jack is another version of bruce like in multiverse chaningan kinda way ,I mean he is genius, rich (although all his money went to repairs somehow he and Maddie make more damage than the whole jl) obsessed in what he believes and is a family guy .
Now we have bruce broody batman stuck in the time stream only to be saved by a frail twig teen that looks uncannily like him as a teen, after some time together trying to help this dude find his time danny gives up and brings him home (good parents au) and convince his parents that he is the lost twin of Jack (as much they are accepting of ghosts now danny doesn't want to give them any new ideas to different fields)
Everything was so nice and smooth, bruce for the first time since soo long (before Jason death and his fights with Richard) finds himself feeling at home and relaxed , he treats danny like his son and have very parenty relationships with the 3 (jazz danny dani) but peace never last ,
Although the fentons stopped hunting ghosts and vlad finally became the cool godfather and found his match ( cus I love redeemed vlad ) the giw didn't stop and they caused a disaster in their attempt to re-create the ghost portal they destroyed the balance of that universe causing it to collapse into a black hole : bruce danny and dani and jazz barely made it to the ghost zone (realms) before it was too late but Jack and Maddie didn't, at the same time tim finally pulled bruce back he didn't expect 3 kids with him (1 adult and 2 teens; jazz is pretty tall and muscle mommy) so now the batfam meets a new version of bruce (who takes meticulous care of this 3 and nice emotionally available like he never was with them ) but still the same towards them ( he is too uncomfortable with them yes they are his kids he loves them very much but they redicul every attempt he makes fight him about everything don't listen to his advices (although he makes commends)and he doesn't want them to hate him more then they already do)
I'm obsessed with the idea of Bruce sneaking in sweet little moments on Dick's childhood. I haven't gotten around to reading any canon material so idk if this happens at all, but I love to headcanon it anyways.
I love to imagine Bruce, in all his batman glory, seeing a little Dick Grayson terrified after a particularly bad case. It was a double murder of a little kid's parents, and they both knew how that felt. Robin was trying to hide it, of course he was, but once it was over and they were back in the mansion his voice wavered the tiniest bit, just enough for Bruce to catch on. He was the world's greatest detective but still, he took too long to understand what his Robin was feeling. Yes, Dick was great at hiding his emotions and putting on a facade, way too good for any 10 year old, but he should have known better, he should have realised that it was too much for him, too soon. It was the guilt and the compassion, and a bit of his dad senses kicking in, but he told Dick that he was tired, way too tired that day, to go over the mission or their mistakes, and they should call it a day, or perhaps he could read Dick a bedtime story first. Dick laughed, of course, said he was too grown up for it, and if he was the one too tired, then maybe Dick should be reading him a story instead, to which Bruce just replied 'I would love that'. Dick was taken by surprise, but did it anyways, and as Bruce layed down, he held the covers up 'so you can be more comfortable' he said, and after Bruce was drifting and Dick was reluctant to get up, he just held him there and said 'thank you chum'
Or maybe Bruce suggesting they could watch the grinch because Robin said they had to have based that movie on Batman after he refused to skip patrol to watch christmas movies on christmas eve. In truth, he had overheard Dick talking to Alfred about how he used to love christmas in the circus and how everyone would gather around and drink hot cocoa (Bruce didn't have that many people to gather around, but he hoped some quality time with him and Alfred would be enough)
Or maybe the time Dick had come home from Wally's house and his dad had just gotten him this super cool games for his birthday and Bruce said he could buy any game he wanted any time but Dick just said there was no need, and Bruce realised he never really gotten any presents for Dick, and Dick had never asked for anything, so he took time to make him something. It was silly, looking back, because he had never actually made anything except for macaroni pictures in kindergarten, and he had felt a bit embarassed handing Dick the small Batman and Robin plushes - he had a lot of help from Alfred and still, they were only recognizable because of the screaming primary colors on Robin's suit - but Dick took it with a smile that warmed Bruce's heart and wouldn't let go for months.
Yes, Bruce is cold and distant and hard to communicate with, but the late night sneaking into the kitchen without Alfred knowing, or skipping a couple hours of patrol to hear his kid's stories, learning how to speak romani so he could understand Dick better and missing a few days at work to take Dick (and Wally, Dick insisted) on a trip somewhere with the excuse that it was 'good for Robin training to know more places and cultures', those spoke the words he lacked and showed how he loved his son.
Dick and Jason are the type to never keep a straight face whenever Bruce is being Bruce.
Sulking in the batcave? Jason's asking who pissed in his tea and then he's brooding even more.
Scolding the batlings? Dick raises hell. "B who gave you the right to yell at them?" "He was being reckless-" "He's twelve, he shouldn't even have an opportunity to be reckless." "..."
Bruce scolding all his baby bats? Jason and Dick make eye contact and Bruce sends them out before they start wheezing.
Bruce talking to Tim about his sleeping patterns? Jason points out that there was a point in time Alfred actively snuck sleeping pills into Bruce's meals so the man would get more than three hours a night.
Bruce scolding Steph for doing something dangerous? Dick points out that he used to swing on the chandelier every chance he got. "You're an acrobat chum." Bruce says exasperated. "Steph has potential." Dick shrugs.
As quietly as he could, Robin cleared his throat for the umpteenth time that evening—though not quietly enough.
“Robin!” Batman hissed over the comms. “If you cannot maintain radio silence, we’re going to have to call this and lose another night of surveillance and—”
“Understood, B—going silent now, sir!” Robin shut him down even as he ran a hand across his noticeably warming forehead.
Yup.
Fuck his life. It was like he’d been waiting for a sign, and there it was.
With a little less caution than he should have for such a state of the art piece of equipment, Robin pulled the earpiece from his ear, shutting it off for the final time that night and tucked it into his utility belt. Batman wasn’t a total idiot after all, and could figure it out where he’d disappeared to if he really thought about it. “Good luck with your surveillance now, asshole,” he grumbled. Besides, Jason had literally told Batman that he was coming down with something before they’d even left the Batcave. He had tried to communicate the issue.
Batman just didn’t care.
Well, fuck it, and fuck Batman.
Robin wasn’t risking his ass because his location had been compromised by an uncontrollable sneeze. Robin was going to drag his pathetic ass home, take a hot shower, climb into his big, comfy bed, and not emerge from it until he got the all clear from the one adult who actually cared about him.
And if B had a problem with that, he could take it up with him. Alfie always had Jason’s back.
His cheeks grew more and more flushed with anger—or fever, if he really thought about it—as he flew a little slower than usual across the rooftops. Imaginary conversations ran like a loop in his head, each one a slight variation of the previous, but all of them basically having B beg Jason for forgiveness for being so callous, inconsiderate, mean, insensitive, clueless, cruel... fucked up.
Jason laughed to himself.
Like that was ever going to happen.
His mind flashed back to all of the counseling sessions with Dinah that Bruce had absolutely insisted upon. “Tell him what you need, Jason,” Dinah had said. “He may act like it, but Bruce is not a mind reader, Jason,” she’d said.
And Bruce wasn’t—but Bruce tried! He asked how Jason’s day at school was. He double-checked to see if Jason needed help with homework. Bruce, if Jason really thought about it, wasn’t the problem.
No. The problem was Batman.
Robin stewed on that as he made his way to the edge of Crime Alley, then slowed and stopped on an abandoned rooftop, needing to take a break. He’d sensed it was coming, and had hoped to at least assess the area, make sure that it was safe before he- he—too late. “-choo!”
“Bless you.”
Robin froze, but not before a batarang that he’d stolen from the armoury appeared in his hand, at least giving him a sense of security he wouldn’t have had otherwise. He adjusted his stance, balancing himself for whatever came next. This was Gotham after all. Robin then lowered his voice to call out into the darkness. “Who’s out there?”
No one replied.
It didn’t shock him, of course. A surprise attack made complete sense if someone had been keeping a careful enough watch, especially with Batman so much closer to the Narrows and Robin here, alone. He scanned the shadows next to the fire escape where he was almost certain his mysterious stranger was hiding, “I know you’re there somewhere...” Robin paced. “Trust me, if step out now with your hands up, it’ll be better for everyone in the long run.”
From the left, a sniffle not too different from his own caught his attention.
Robin shifted his direction, just barely, then headed toward his quarry— wait. No. That didn’t sit right, if he thought about it, and Robin had a moment of clarity. Whoever this was hadn’t actually done anything to him... yet.
And had they sounded—young?
“Yeah, I should definitely be in bed.” Robin sighed to himself, then modified his game plan, drastically.
In less time than it took to blink, Robin retracted the batarang and made an effort to relax his posture. He let out a slow, calming breath, “Alright, let’s try that again. Okay, kid?” Robin called out. “I’m guessin’ it’s not a secret that I’m not on my A-game tonight and I overreacted.” His eyes continued to survey the darkness, “Wanna come out so we can introduce ourselves properly?”
The crunch of gravel pulled Robin’s attention away from his shadow long enough to notice the new player on the board.
“Robin? Who are you talking to?”
Shit.
Robin spun around to face Batman, the tension in his posture ramped right back up to an eleven. “What are you doing here?” Robin demanded.
“You didn’t answer when I asked for your status.” Batman approached slowly. “And I knew you were—” the man paused, realizing that he couldn’t say what he truly wanted to while out in the open like this, “—eager to shift your focus to other projects this evening. ”
The tone being used in this moment was one that Robin was definitely unaccustomed to, though Jason had heard it often enough, and it almost distracted him from the third person on the rooftop. He had to get his head back in the game. Batman was here, after all and it made sense for the less-than-one-hundred-percent Robin to take advantage of the extra hands. As stealthily as he could, Robin pulled his Batman sanctioned phone from his utility belt and typed out a rapid message, ‘not alone. not hostile? tracking,’ as he answered Batman verbally, “Of course. We both know Poison Ivy is makin’ plans, what with all the mess at Arkham last night...” It was a special skill to say one thing while typing another when you weren’t feeling well.
The cowl masked his initial confusion, but upon reading Robin’s text, Batman simply nodded, then pressed a button hidden by his temple.
Robin recognized the switch over to night vision mode.
Nice.
Robin approved.
Batman turned his head and paced slowly as he scanned the roof’s darkest corners, then stilled as he caught sight of something out of the ordinary. “Maybe we should both head back to the Batcave?” He shifted direction, “Analyze some of those samples,” and then leaned over to pick up what appeared to be a child’s Batman backpack and a—camera?
A gasp sounded from the back corner of the roof between the rusted out air conditioner unit and the roof’s edge, and nowhere near the fire escape, immediately catching the attention of both heroes.
“There!” Robin called out as a child-sized black-clad body bolted from its hiding spot and tried to make its way to the decrepit fire escape only feet away from where Batman stood.
And so it was for naught. “Gotcha,” Batman bent over and caught what looked to be an honest-to-goodness kid up under his arms and hoisted him up onto his hip with the found camera’s strap looped around his wrist.
Not that the little roof-goblin was cooperating. “Put me down!” the little boy hollered as he kicked and wriggled as he tried to free himself. “I won’t tell anyone! I promise! Please let me go!”
“Hey, hey, hey!” Batman had shifted from his ‘I am the night’ persona to something a little more paternal for their young captive. “You’re okay, buddy. Just settle down.” He rocked a little and patted the boy’s back as he worked to calm him, taking only a second to switch back to standard vision settings on the visor.
Batman must have been doing it just right because all the fight drained from the boy, surprising them both.
And then the boy sniffed.
Robin stepped from where he’d been frozen in shock as everything had unfolded before him. “Aw, no, kid. You don’t gotta cry. You’re okay, really!” Robin soothed.
But this was the absolute wrong thing to say and the little boy tensed. “I’m not crying!” He denied as he dragged his hoodie sleeve across his dripping nose. “And I’m not a child!”
“Alright, alright.” Robin put his hands up in surrender. “I hear ya.’ You’re not cryin’ and you’re not a child, but...” Robin took a closer look at the boy in Batman’s arms, “Holy shit! You’re Timothy Drake!”
“Robin!” Batman hissed, “Language!”
Robin checked himself immediately, but revelled in being right.
Timothy Drake, age eight, and definitely tiny enough to be mistake for younger, scowled as Batman shifted his hold to take a better look, “You are!” Batman paused, “Wait a minute...” he seemed to consider something for a moment, then removed his gauntlet. “Are you...?” he pressed the back of his bare hand to Timothy’s pale forehead. “Hn.”
Even little Timothy was captivated by the production. “What?” he asked in anticipation.
“You definitely have a fever, Timothy Drake.” Batman announced, leaving Timothy to deflate in his arms.
“Can you pleeeease call me Tim?” The boy whined, “And I could have told you that,” the boy replied, then seemed to sense that maybe he wasn’t in nearly as much trouble as he feared. “Um, but only a I’m only a bit sic, and my medicine is in my bag, so if that’s all, Mr. Batman, sir,” the boy wiggled a little, “can you please let me down, and I’ll just go home?”
Batman and Robin shared a loaded glance, coming to some sort of silent agreement.
Batman lowered Timothy to the ground, making sure he was steady where he was planted, but kept a gentle yet secure hold on his arm as he knelt before him, “I’m afraid it’s not that easy, Tim. You see, I’m trying to figure out why you would be out and about in Crime Alley in the middle of the night... and especially when you’re sick.” The vigilante made sure he was looking Timothy directly in the eye as he stated his obvious concerns. “It’s pretty clear to me that something’s happening here that Robin and I need to worry about.”
A strange look came across Tim’s face, and for a split second, Robin was sure that he was going to cry when, “ker-choo!” The kid sneezed into his elbow then, again, wiped his sleeve across his nose.
“Bless you.” Robin offered automatically, then promptly sneezed, too, a little less adorably.
“Bless you,” Batman and Tim echoed.
And if that moment didn’t remind Jason of exactly how exhausted he, himself, was to get home and crawl into bed.
“Hey, B? It’s gettin’ a little late... or I guess early, and the kid is sick. Maybe we should call it for the night?”
“And how,” Batman inquired, “would you propose we do that when we still have our little,” he lifted the arm with the dangling camera, “photographer?” He looked back down at Tim. “Do I want to know what you’re taking pictures of?”
Tim squirmed under Batman’s gaze. “Uh—”
“C’mon, Batman. Give the kid a break—at least for now? We can sneak him home without his parents ever knowin’, then pick this up when Tim’s feeling a little better? It’s not like we don’t know where he lives, after all.” Robin made sure to impress that last point upon Tim as he folded his arms and pulled himself up to his full height.
Batman contemplated how the rest of the night could play out as he cast a glance at Tim.
The boy definitely needed to get himself into bed and resting—and he was literally the Wayne’s next door neighbour. It would be no problem at all to send Jason over in the light of day to check in on him. But then Batman shifted his attention to Robin. Batman seemed to finally—FINALLY notice the weight of the fatigue wearing his Robin down. How could he not have seen this back at the cave?
Batman was an asshole.
Unaware that he was interrupting Batman’s epiphany, Tim piped up, “Maybe you should wait until Robin is feeling better, too?”
Jason wondered if he’d imagined the flash of guilt on B’s face.
“I think that’s a great idea, Tim.” Batman stood abruptly, then scooped Tim up again. “I’m positive we’ll find out how you made your way into Gotham proper another day, but for now, how do you feel about taking a ride in the Batmobile?”
Tim’s jaw dropped and his own tired eyes filled with an excitement equivalent to what he could only guess was Christmas, “Really?”
Batman smiled softly, “Really.” He looked over to Robin then, “What do you say, Robin? Want to call it an early night?”
Jason could have wept with relief, but Robin simply smiled. “That’s sounds like a great idea.”
Without another word, Batman manoeuvred young Tim Drake down to street level as Robin collected the kid’s backpack. Robin wondered briefly what they’d find out once they had Tim safely tucked into bed, but his third sneeze since hitting this rooftop snuck up on him and left him feeling a more than drained. “Ugh,” he grumped as he secured the zipper on the kid’s backpack and made his way to the fire escape.
