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“One day you pick up your child for the last time, and you probably don’t even remember it”- Unknown.
Bruce doesn’t like Galas, despite what his insufferable children like to claim. But they are a necessity of his job and persona. Bruce Wayne must attend boring, stuffy charity events and make small talk with old, usually racist people.
Such is life.
Anyway.
This one had been particularly boring, Bruce thinks mainly because Damian is the only one of his sons that attended. They others all had valid life events that excused them from it. Bruce is always disappointed when he doesn’t get a chance to see his sons, especially at such an event where they can dress up and he can show them off, but he understands.
Damian had been doing surprisingly well, being quiet and allowing the older women to pinch his cheeks. Bruce assumes he has an ulterior motive, and he thinks it has to do with a kitten the boy wants to adopt. Bruce will continue to lie to himself and insist Damian will not be getting another animal.
“Oh Bruce, lovely to see you,” Henry something another beams happily when he spots Bruce and shakes his hand forcefully. Bruce can’t remember what Henry does. He works at some big company that rivals Wayne Enterprise and he’s insignificant enough for Bruce not to care. But the man has always been nice enough and Bruce has had to pretend to care on occasion.
“Henry, how are you?” Bruce asks politely, his Bruce Wayne head of Wayne Enterprise persona filters in easily.
“Well thank you,” He replies, “How are the boys? Are they here?”
Bruce smiles, he’s always liked that Henry asks about the boys.
“Just Damian, the others were all busy. But they’re good thank you, all very busy I’m afraid,” Bruce allows his tone to show real fondness.
“That’s the way with sons isn’t it,” Henry states, “I have 2 of my own, older now. Yours must be getting quite big now?”
Bruce smiles, thinking of the powerhouses that are now his older sons, “They are.”
“Oh, I read something the other day you’ll find as depressing as I did being a Dad,” Henry laughs, “It was this silly quote online, I can’t remember exactly but it was about how one day you picked up your kid for the last time, and you don’t even remember it. How sad is that?”
Bruce looks at Henry blankly as he processes those words. He lets them sink in, and wow. That’s an interesting pill to swallow, he’s never thought about that.
But, when he does allow himself to think about it, it is true. He certainly hasn’t pick up Dick or Jason since they were boys. Tim is a bit different, but Damian’s getting bigger every day.
One day he did pick them up for the last time, one day he won’t pick Damian up again.
How bloody depressing.
Bruce swallows hard, smiling for Henry, “That is quite the thought Henry,”
With that they go on to business small talk, working around other topics.
It sits with Bruce all night.
-/-/-/-/-/
Bruce thinks about it some more, and the more he does the more it depresses him.
He tries to think about the last time he picked up Dick. It would have been years ago, when he was 10, maybe 12. Dick had always been a tactile child and often wanted to be held or cuddled, shocking Bruce at the time, but he adapted. When Dick became a teenager though that became few and in between, sure he probably held him sometimes when he was injured, but Bruce honestly can’t remember the last time he picked him up.
Jason, it was absolutely pre pit, and if that. Jason did not love physical contact unlike his brother, but there were certainly moments where he allowed it, or on occasion Bruce or Dick would bring him in for a hug willing or not. Bruce only remembers holding him for brief moments and usually because he was too injured or tired to walk himself. Jason has always been independent, but there were certainly moments when he allowed himself to indulge that Bruce always loved.
Tim was different, because Tim didn’t come to live with him until he was older, far too old to be carried. But it has happened, Bruce reasons with himself, hoping he has not deprived his son of that. He has carried Tim to bed when he’s fallen asleep working at the kitchen counter, or picked him up to avid danger. Tim isn’t incredibly tactile though, he’s always been a bit stand offish. When Bruce goes in for a hug or a shoulder pat Tim tenses up first, and then allows it. Bruce hates thinking about when the last time his parents hugged him, let alone picked him up.
Note to self, hug Tim more. He always does that when he thinks of the Drakes.
Damian, is still little. Sort of. He’s 11, so he’s not really that little, but he’s small enough for Bruce to carry and he can still think of times he’s grabbed Damian by the waist and hauled him over his shoulder to remove his son from danger – often that danger is Tim or Jason, but its just easier to remove his youngest before the knives come out – or carried him to his room due to a swollen ankle. Damian, despite his own wishes, gets carried far more then any of his boys ever had. Because Bruce does it out of instinct, its second nature to pick him up when he’s injured or sick, to hold close. But Dick also carries Damian, finds it’s a novelty almost and Bruce know he loves when Damian gets all prickly and embarrassed by it, like a disgruntled puppy. And even Jason has picked up Damian a few times, whether to annoy him or get out of somewhere quickly. Damian would never say it, never admit it or even know, but he has amazing big brothers.
Still, despite these times he can remember, the thought still lingers with him. Still makes him sad to know his boys are now so big. He’s so proud of them, of course he is, but he can’t escape the thought. Maybe he needs to adopt a toddler.
Or, he reasons with himself, he could just rectify the situation. There’s no rules to say he can’t still pick up his boys. He’s still bigger than all of them – yes still bigger then Jason, just.
And besides, he’ll have the element of surprise on his side.
-/-/-/-/
Damian is easy, as Bruce thought he would be. He still picks Damian up sometimes, granted it could be more, will be more now, but Damian is his baby.
Although, he enjoys not being stabbed so he’ll keep those comments to himself.
They’re watching a movie together, although Damian has been fighting sleep since it started, but too proud to admit it. Bruce lets him fight it though, and he puts an arm around his youngest son hoping he feels safe enough to let his guard down and sleep. He does, eventually and Bruce spends more time watching his little chest rise and fall then watching the movie.
Damian is so hard, jaded, but mostly misunderstood.
He lets himself watch his son for some time before deciding to carry him to bed. He picks him up softly, gently trying not to disturb him too much.
Damian wiggles in his arms, but can smell Bruce so he doesn’t panic, just settles himself more.
Bruce’s heart melts.
“Father,” Damian starts, but its sleepy and quiet, he doesn’t even open his eyes.
Bruce is honored to be one that Damian trusts enough in this instant to keep his guard down. He knows the only other person for sure Damian would trust is Dick, maybe Jason and Tim, but Bruce won’t be surprised if he lashed out.
“Shh Dam, its okay, we’re just going to bed,” Bruce says simply carrying his youngest up the stairs and bypassing his bedroom.
Damian frowns in his sleep, “I’m not a child,” but contradicts himself when he doesn’t open his eyes and proceeds to snuggle further into Bruce’s arm. Bruce smiles softly and gently puts him down on his own far too big bed, tucking the covers over his small frame and pushes his dark hair to the side.
“I know,” He murmurs and kisses his forehead gently.
He doesn’t know if Damian even registers it because he falls back asleep instantly.
-/-/-/-/-/
Tim, it turns out is also very easy.
Tim doesn’t sleep, it’s almost a running joke by this point in the family. One that Dick still tries fruitlessly to make him sleep at every chance and Bruce just watches on assumed and disappointed.
Tim is working in the cave going over some cases on the computer. That’s quite normal, Bruce doesn’t mind that. He prefers when Tim does it in the cave, it means Tim can ask for help and Bruce can check on him to make sure he’s living off more then just coffee.
The problem is its been 12 hours. And counting. It might actually be longer because Tim was here before Bruce even got up, it’s probably been much longer. And look, he gets it, he’s worked for 12 hours straight.
But he’s an adult, he can be a hypocrite. It’s not healthy for his son and he needs to sleep.
“Tim?” Bruce asks gently and he gets a grunt in response, “Maybe you should take a break. Come back to it in the morning?”
“I’m almost done B, just a little bit more time and I swear I’ll crack it,” Tim says confidently, if not a bit manically.
Bruce doesn’t really know what to do. He knows he could just haul Tim over his shoulder and lock him in his room, believe him he’s considered it.
But he doesn’t want to start a fight, nor does he want to have to chase Tim around town sleep deprived when he inevitably escapes.
He glances over to where Jason and Dick are sparring, they share a knowing look and for a moment little brothers connect them.
Jason rolls his eyes at something and stalks off up the stairs to somewhere Bruce isn’t sure, but not before flicking Tim’s ear as he passes, just to annoy him.
Jason seems put out when Tim doesn’t react though.
Bruce is so lucky Tim is resilient to deal with such overbearing older brothers.
Bruce goes back to contemplating his next move. Deciding whether he will force Tims hand or wait for him to pass out on his own, when Jason comes down with a mug of something hot. It looks like tea.
Jason, very stealthy places the cup next to Tims other mug, and switches them without the boy even looking down. For someone so large he can be so sneaky.
Bruce then watches as Tim reaches for the cup and takes a sip. He hesitates after one sip, and takes another, downing the mug.
Bruce frowns and stares at his second oldest, giving him a look full of eyebrows. Jason just shrugs, indifferently, although he’s fooling no one, and goes back to the mat to spar with Dick. Bruce watches them for a moment, watching Jasons strength versus Dicks agility.
When he turns back to Tim, the boy is asleep.
Dead asleep, face planted on the keyboard.
“Jason did you just drug your brother?” Bruce asks, he’s trying for outrage, he truly does. But he knows he just sounds more exhausted than anything.
Which is saying something about his overall persona and predicament his children continue to put him in.
Jason grins, a bit evilly, “Pipsqueak had it coming.”
Dick rolls his eyes and turns to Bruce, “He didn’t drug him B, it was just decafe coffee and a sleeping herb. It’s herbal and for relaxation.”
Jason pouts and it looks ridiculous on his 6 foot frame, “You’re no fun bigbird.” He says as if he wasn’t the one that gave it to him in the first place.
Bruce looks up at the roof, asking for a higher power to help him. His sons are blessings and problems on their own, but when they team up everything gets much harder in his life.
At least they didn’t drug him, he thinks ridiculously.
Bruce tries to find the bright side, tries to reason with himself that they’re just helping, and Tim needed the sleep. Not focus on how annoyed Tim will be with everyone when he wakes up.
Bruce goes over to his sleeping son, and gently pushes his fringe to one side.
Gently, he lifts up the boy, taking note of how light he is and tucks him in close, taking him up the stairs.
He ignores his other two, who he can hear whispering behind his back and focuses on carefully taking Tim up the stairs and not waking him.
The boy fits perfectly in his arms, and he marvels at how he should be doing this more.
When Tim wakes up 18 hours later, he doesn’t mention the event to anyone. But when Dick tries to bring it up his ears go pink and he bolts out the door.
-/-/-/-/-/
Jason, as expected, is not so easy. He’s actually really hard, which Bruce anticipated. Which makes him more determined to get him.
Jason is his prickly, explosive, with a heart of gold, son. The one who was taken too soon but he was given a second chance. A second chance they both screwed up, but Bruce is determined to make it up to him.
Jason has always been a bit prickly and explosive, even when he was just a boy. But he’s always had a softer side to him, one that took a while for him to let his guard down around Bruce and Dick but when he did he smiled brighter then the sun.
Bruce is certain that boy – that man – is still there, has even shown that side of himself to his brothers at times. There relationship isn’t great, but it’s getting better each day, little by little and Bruce cherishes it.
What he’s about to do may jeopardize that, but he’s willing to give it a shot.
Hood and Batman are working together, watching some henchmen from a roof. Hood hasn’t said much all night, but now he’s suggesting he go in alone, quickly and efficiently.
No.
“No,” Bruce says quickly, shutting down all communication.
“B, we don’t have another choice,” He argues rather rationally to Bruce’s dismay.
“There is always a better choice then sending you in alone,” Bruce replies.
“They might have the kids in there,” He argues and Bruce winces, “Besides I’m going in as Hood, it’ll be fine.”
No, still no.
Before Bruce can continue to argue though, there’s a massive explosion that sends both of them flying backwards. The building they were watching goes up, quickly and violently. Bruce barely has any time to think before he’s snapping his grappling hook to the other end, grabbing Jason roughly and taking off.
It’s not an easy feat, Jason is way heavier then he looks and Bruce barely had any time to actually think through his decision to get them out of the line of fire.
Plus, Jason is stunned at being manhandled by Bruce.
Bruce takes a second too long to let go of the boy, taking a moment to breathe and feel that Jason is safe in his arms before he starts to kick and wiggle away, completely undignified.
Hood stands up and glares at him.
“What the fuck,” Jason cries, giving him the same disgruntled look, he did when Bruce used to take away his Gameboy, despite it being under the hood. His tone gives it away, Bruce can literally picture it even if he can’t see it.
“Are you okay?” Bruce replies instead, they’d both been blown backwards and he didn’t get a chance to check before he legged it. He’s checking him up and down, and it looks like he might be favoring his right leg but its hard to tell.
“What the fuck B! You can’t just manhandle someone like that,” Jason says, but Bruce can tell by his tone he’s more startled and put out then he is angry. Bruce will take the win.
“Yes I can,” Bruce says without thinking, “You’re my son. I used to pick you up all the time.”
Jason stares at him for a moment, and Bruce thinks he might have given too much away. Jason is calculating him, probably piecing things together, Jason has always been far smarter than people give him credit for.
“Yeah, when I was a street kid who weighed literally nothing,” Jason says instead, surprising Bruce, “You’re going to do your back if you keep that up.”
“I won’t” Bruce says without any merit - he will, “Are you hurt?”
Jason just sighs, incredibly audibly to make sure Bruce can hear it through the helmet, “If I tell you the truth you have to promise not to try and carry me to the cave.”
Bruce doesn’t carry him to the cave, but he does try.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
There was a long time ago, when Bruce’s life was simple, and quite. A very brief time, when he had very little responsibilities and even fewer interruptions.
That time was before Dick.
Bruce’s life has barely been a before Dick.
But, it was slightly easier.
“So, B,” Dick plants himself noisily next to Bruce, sunglasses perched on his face and looking effortlessly cool in a pair of ridiculous bright yellow swim trunks.
It’s not often they get to use the pool in his literal mansion, but Tim had decided it was a nice day he’d go for a swim, and obviously that meant Dick wanted to tag along. Which means he convinced Damian to come, and Bruce figured he had a few hours to spare lounging by the water reading his book. Jason, also, had just appeared not long after, and Bruce isn’t sure if its because he refuses to miss out on things in spite or Dick blackmailed him, but he’s here and playing a very rigged game of marco polo with Tim and Damian.
Bruce was enjoying the peace on a lounge chair reading his book, before Dick came along.
“Yes chum,” Bruce humors, bookmarking his page. He’s not going to finish it now.
“I had a chat with Henry Watson the other day,” He starts.
Bruce frowns, “Henry who?”
Dick rolls his eyes, “Henry from Lindall Co, he popped into Bludhaven station.”
Oh, Bruce thinks.
“We chatted about you,’ Dick says when it’s clear Bruce isn’t going to respond, “He told me about the conversation at the Gala.”
Bruce just narrows his eyes at his eldest.
Dick grins broadly, “I pieced it together after Jason told me you manhandled him on a case the other night, its sweet B. Even if Jason was mad. But he was the adorable mad he used to get as a kid when I called him short stack, not crazy pit mad.”
Bruce rolls his own eyes now and picks up his book for something to do, “I saved his life that night.”
Which is an exaggeration, that Dick obviously can tell.
“Wouldn’t have pinned you for that sentimental B,” Dick says, and there’s teasing but there’s also something else in his tone.
Pride maybe, love probably.
Bruce isn’t going to unpack it, because he still has a son he needs to carry.
His first born, the light of his life. The boy who came to him a scared, orphan and blossomed into a confident, enthusiastic, acrobat. A boy who was never too big to be carried by his Dad, or sit on his shoulders, or cuddle up for movie night.
A man who still does all of those things, but rarely is their time or space, especially when his busy being a big brother, forcing his younger siblings into all kinds of situations.
“I think I’m going to go for a dip.” Is what Bruce saying instead, standing abruptly and turning to Dick.
“Okay,” Dick says slowly, thrown off by the conversation change but suspicious. Bruce has taught him well.
Bruce stands and looks down at his son, an evil grin appearing.
“You have 3 seconds,”
Dick frowns, “What?”
“1”
“Bruce,”
“2”
It takes Dick too long to figure out what’s going on, and by the time he’s jumped from the lounge chair he’s only made it a foot before Bruce lunges at him and grabs him by the waist.
A few colorful words are thrown about, gaining the attention of the others, before Bruce hikes the boy up and chucks him over his shoulder.
Dick is not too big to be carried.
“Bruce! Man! Come on!” Dick complains, trying to wiggle away without being dropped and Bruce just grasps him tighter, walking calmly over to the pool.
When Dick continues to thrash trying to escape, Bruce pinches just behind his kneecap as a warning. A place his eldest used to be deathly ticklish. It looks like he still is because he lets out a yelp and submits to his fate, “God you suck.” Dick says instead and Bruce smiles.
Damian is looking at them confused, and Tim is rolling his eyes but keeping a clear distance of where Dicks about to land. Jason looks part like Christmas has come early and part mortified, clearly remembering a time when he mouthed off and ended up in the pool.
“See, you’re not to old to be carried either,” Bruce says, just for Dick to hear before gracefully throwing him into the deep end of the pool, designer sunglasses, stupid yellow swim trunks and all.