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Batman was sitting through yet another, pointless, post-battle meeting, and he couldn’t be grumpier about it. When he had made it through the battle unscathed and victorious, he had thought that meant Clark would let him go without having to sit through this dull nonsense. But alas, as soon as he had tried to slip away, Superman had grabbed him by the back of the cowl and pulled him into the meeting room. It wasn’t like Bruce could use the, “I need to get home to my kids,” excuse, even if it was true. No one in the JLA even knew he had kids. Let alone that two of them had come down with the flu this last night and Alfred was visiting family for the weekend and Bruce had promised Dick that he would be back in a few hours before anyone even woke up but now he was stuck at this stupid meeting that had already taken an hour and he didn’t even need to be here-
“Batman! Are you listening?” Superman barked from the head of the table. Flash snickered and Green Arrow smirked at the Dark Knight getting caught spacing out.
Batman only grunted, “Apologies, continue.” he leaned back and let out a quiet sigh as Clark cleared his throat to begin again. From his right, Diana chuckled, “Rush to get home?” She asked. Bruce shook his head, “You have no idea.” While Clark droned on again, and Green Lantern started to doze off from across the table, Bruce snuck a glance at the monitor on his wrist. As expected, there were multiple unread messages from his oldest son.
Dick: Sorry to bother you, but are you almost done?
Dick: Cass just woke up. Her fevers gone down but she's asking for you. When are you coming home?
Dick: Steph woke up with a sore throat. I think she has it too
Dick: Duke, Damian, Tim, Cullen and Jason are all still asleep but I think they'll wake up soon and I don't know where Harper went. So please please hurry if you can
Dick: Found Harper and Jay woke up. He's sick too
Dick: can I call you?
Bruce was just about to type out a response when someone cleared their throat. He looked up to find Superman fixing him with a glare that has been known to stop most supervillains in their tracks. But Batman was not a supervillain, and therefore leveled the Man of Steel with his own glare. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aquaman nudge Green Lantern awake to witness the staring contest of their co-leaders.
"It's important." Batman grit out. Superman scoffed, "More important than discussing the safety of the planet?" He questioned. " Yes." Bruce hissed, without hesitation. Before Clark could come up with a retort, Diana interjected, "I'm sure Batman knows how important these meetings are, so whatever this message is must be equally important." She looked to Bruce for confirmation, and Batman, the silent shadow, surprised them all with his verbal answer. "It is." He said and leveled his stare at Clark once again.
Superman blinked, surprised by his teammate’s certainty. "Okay," he said, a bit flustered, "Alright. Um...where was I?"
As Clark began to pick up where he left off, Bruce was finally able to respond to Dick.
Bruce: I'm sorry, stuck at the Watchtower in a JLA meeting. Be home ASAP
Now filled with the knowledge of his children's conditions, and worried for Dick’s own anxiety, (He always got anxious when one of his siblings was injured or sick, Bruce could only imagine how he felt with most of them down.) Bruce became restless, tapping his fingers on the table. He was about to declare the meeting over himself as Martian Manhunter was going over his side of the battle, again, when a shrill beeping came from the giant monitor hanging in front of the table.
“EMERGENCY CALL, INCOMING.” The robotic voice rang through the meeting room, and Bruce’s stomach sank. Call it single dad instincts, but he knew exactly who was on the other line. “Answer,” He said immediately, Clark whipped his head to him, eyebrows raised almost comically high. The other Leaguers were asking him questions, overlapping each other to the point where Bruce couldn’t even understand them, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was the face on the other end that he was sure was going to answer.
He was only a little surprised when it wasn’t Dick whose face appeared on the screen. Instead, a skinny little boy, who couldn’t have been older than 10, with shaggy black hair that was getting too long, and a snotty red nose answered. It was Tim, without a doubt. He stood in a nicely decorated room, with a large window and an even larger bookshelf filled to the brim behind him. Bruce immediately recognized it as his study.
“Dad!” Tim’s eyes brightened as he took in Batman, who had moved to be in the center of the screen. Flash gasped and hissed to Green Arrow, “Did he say, dad?!?!” Oliver shook his head, “He’s probably talking to someone else?” Though he sounded like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. On-screen, Tim rubbed his nose on his sleeve, his voice thick and clearly sick as he shouted off-screen, “DICK!! I GOT HIM!!!”
“Timothy,” Batman said, and the Justice League fell silent as the boy turned back to Batman, the Batman, and said, “Yeah dad?”
“What’s wrong?”
“What isn’t wrong?? Cass’s fever is back so now she's having weird dreams and she won’t stop shaking. Steph drank all the tea because her throat hurts so bad, Duke threw up so now he’s crying, again. Harper’s yelling at everyone because she has a headache and no one’s being quiet. Well, except for Cullen, but only because he hasn’t woken up yet. Which is weird, Dick says it’s fine but I think it’s because he took four Nyquil instead of two, WHICH I told him not to do, but nobody listens to me.” He gave a long huff, “Oh, and Jason can’t stop coughing and my nose won’t stop running.” Tim listed each of his siblings off on his fingers, before sniffling again. “Is that all?” Bruce asked, mostly rhetorical, but Tim answered anyway, “Oh yeah! Damian is totally sick, but he’s denying it and Dick can’t get him to take medicine. So, yeah. You need to come home right now before Dick explodes or something.”
Batman sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, and Hal, who had leaned over to get a better look at the screen, could have sworn he heard the Dark Knight whisper, “God help me.” All attention was dragged back to the screen as another voice called out, “TIM! What are you doing-oh,” An older, taller boy, about 14, with shorter, curly black hair and eyes that looked a little too bright paired with flushed cheeks. "B!" He said, and Bruce would’ve known that voice anywhere. It was his first son, Dick, looking haggard and relieved to see his father. But his relief was short-lived and quickly replaced with wide-eyed panic as he took in the Justice League members staring right back at him.
“Tim!” he whipped his head to the other boy, “This is the Watchtower line!!” Tim sniffed again, “Yeah? You said he was at the Watchtower, so I called the Watchtower,” the younger supplied. Dick flicked him on the back of the head, ignoring his yelp, “I said he was at the Watchtower in a meeting . That’s literally the ENTIRE JUSTICE LEAGUE!!!!” He gestured wildly to the screen, and Tim finally paid attention to it. As his eyes widened he let out a small, “Wow,” and waved at the superheroes. Dazed and confused as to what was happening, only Diana, J'onn, and Arthur actually had enough wits about them to wave back to the small boy.
Dick looked like he was going to throw up, and given the sickness going around, that was highly possible. “Dick,” Bruce said, and nobody missed the way both boys looked at Batman immediately, with this unfiltered adoration in their eyes. It was startling, to say the least, to see children look at Batman like that. No hint of fear or intimidation. They looked at him as if he wasn’t most criminals' worst nightmare. They looked at him like....well, like he was their dad. “Are you okay?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Dick’s eyes started watering and his bottom lip started quivering. “Yup,” He lied, his voice shaking, “Everything's fine. Yeah, Jay and I have everything under control.”
Batman raised an eyebrow, “And where is your brother right now?” That seemed to be the right question, as Tim and Dick shared a glance with each other and Tim said, “Asleep!” At the same time, Dick said, “Bathroom!” Tim jumped in front of Dick, “He’s asleep in the bathroom!” Dick visibly facepalmed and Barry and Hal were snickering from the table. Even Clark was suppressing a small smile. Batman raised an eyebrow, "Asleep? In the bathroom? Do you want to try again, or is that the answer you want to go with?"
Tim seemed to consider his options for a second before answering, "...I'll stick to it I think." Dick pressed his palms into his eyes and sighed. "I'm so sorry B…" he murmured, and for a second, Bruce really thought he might be crying tears of frustration and that just made him want to reach through the screen and yank his son into a hug. Tim pat his brother's shoulder sympathetically and went to say something else when there was a sudden loud bang. Both boys shot up and were halfway across the room before even Bruce could react. "DICK!!!" A shout came from the same direction as the bang through the screen, and then, another boy was stepping into the screen.
His hair was dark, like theirs, but kept shorter, except for a few unruly pieces that fell into his eyes. His eyes were a soft green, and his eyebrows always seemed to be raised in slight disapproval and attitude. He was broader than either boy, but shorter than Dick, making him seem to be aged right between the two at about twelve or so. He was swaying a little on his feet and sniffing like Tim was. This was Jason, and he was scowling at the both of them and wasted no time thrusting something into Dick's arms.
The thing, being a small boy. Who couldn't have been older than five, with dark hair just like his brothers and startling green eyes that glared at everyone in the room. He was tiny for his age but did not hesitate to stick his tongue out at Jason. Damian, Batman's youngest son, had his arms wrapped around Dick’s neck as the elder scrambled to hold the little boy up. Jason glared at Damian, and before the boy had even settled in his brother’s arms. He yelled, coughing in between. “THIS DEMON BRAT- cough- WOULDN’T TAKE HIS MEDICINE AND -cough- AND THEN HE BIT ME. HE BIT ME, DICK!” His voice sounded gravely and thick with sickness. It broke Bruce’s heart to hear. Jason hated being sick.
Jason’s arms flayed about as he shouted, gesturing at Damien, who leaned up to nip at Jason’s fingers as they neared him. As Jason yanked his hand away, he gestured frantically while looking wildly between his brothers, “SEE!! ¡Oh Dios mío! ” He said, falling into Spanish the way he always did when he was stressed, or sick as he was. “ Mocoso demonio,” he whispered, even as Damian pressed his clearly fevered face into Dick’s neck, looking rather adorable. Jason was glaring so furiously at his brothers and coughing so hard, that he failed to notice the computer screen on the desk. Or the Justice League members who were watching the scene unfold through the screen with rapt attention, like an episode of Scandal. Or Keeping Up With the Kardashians. (Not that Bruce ever watched either of those shows or anything. He only knew about them through his kids. Totally.)
Batman cleared his throat, and the three oldest boys finally whipped back to the camera, while Damian showed no interest in even lifting his head. Jason’s eyes widened like saucers as he took in his heroes. “ Santa mierda… is that Wonder Woman?” Jason whispered, leaning forward to look in. Bruce heard Diana chuckle as she failed to hold back her smile, and saw her wave at the boy, who reached out to clutch Tim’s shoulder because, as he had said before, “Wonder Woman is so freaking cool Bruce, you don’t even understand!”
“Jay, watch your language.” Batman scolded, and Jason’s cheeks turned red, but the Flash and Hal shared looks, while Green Arrow murmured, “Hypocrite,” with a cheeky grin. Which was true, Batman had been known to go whole missions never saying a word, besides the occasional, quiet, “Fuck ,” over the comm. But Bruce ignored his teammates, for now, all he could think about was his kids, sitting there, looking pale and sick, or faces flushed red with a fever. It broke his heart.
All Bruce wanted to do was go home, tuck his kids into bed, (Probably his giant one, so they could all cuddle together) run to the store to get stocked up on canned soup and sports drinks, and take care of the kids. He wanted to scoop Damian up in his arms, make a warm cup of tea for Jason, get some peppermint oil to clear Tim’s nose, wrap Dick in a million blankets, and make him sleep the rest of the day. Bruce couldn’t even begin to think about what all of his other children would need.
One thing at a time.
“Damian,” he said, and his voice became soft, The Batman’s voice went low and uncharacteristically soft as he roused his youngest. Damian’s head lifted from his brother’s shoulder, looking around the room and clearly trying to find the source of his father’s voice, “Baba?” He asked, rubbing his tired eyes. Dick nudged him and pointed to the screen, “Baba’s there, Dami,” Damian twisted in his grip, his face lighting up as he saw Bruce.
“Baba!” He said again, and Aquaman ducked his head to hide his smile. Bruce couldn’t blame him, his son was adorable. “Hi Damian,” he couldn’t help the small smile that spread over his face, Damian’s hair was sticking everywhere and his eyes looked sleepy. “Dames, I need you to listen to your brothers, and to take your medicine,” Batman said. Jason pumped his fists in the air, happy to be proven right.
The smile fell off Damian's face and was replaced with a glare, identical to the one Batman had been giving the entire League earlier in the meeting. The BatGlare, (as it was called among the Leaguers) it seemed, was completely ineffective on four-year-olds because Damian just kept glaring back. “NO,” he said very definitely. Batman let out another ever longing sigh, “Dami, I know it tastes bad, but I promise it will make you feel a lot better. And, besides,” he added, letting out a smug smile, “Your big brothers will take some too.”
Damian grinned, while all three older boys let out shouts of complaints and defiance. Bruce held up a hand, “Boys,” he said, and they all quieted, he shared a look with Dick, and then Tim, and finally, Jason, “Lead, by example.”
As the words left his mouth, his sons straightened up, the way they always did at the prospect of being a leader . Something that they all grappled with and fought to be the best at. What could he say? His boys wanted to be like their father, to be a leader. The three oldest boys shared one long, very serious look. Then Jason was scooping Damian out of Dick’s arms, saying, “Come on, mijo , let’s have a medicine party downstairs. I’ll even get Duke and Harper to join.” He moved out of the way of the camera, presumably to take Damian downstairs.
Dick gestured to Tim to follow, and Tim rolled his eyes but didn’t complain as he went. A faint, “I’ll make hot chocolate to wash it down,” was heard through the microphone, and Bruce knew his son would be keeping that promise. (And that there would probably be a mess for him to clean up later in the kitchen.)
On the screen, Dick smiled at his brothers, before turning to look back. His face seemed more flushed than it was before, like the past five minutes of pure chaos had somehow worsened his state of health. Bruce could relate. Dick smiled, seemingly ignoring his current state of being, and said, “I’ll go watch them, sorry for interrupting your meeting, Dad.”
(From the side, Hal covered his mouth and whispered “ My heart,” while Arthur nodded solemnly in agreement.)
A pool of warmth flooded his chest, making it swell with pride. Dick rarely called him dad, usually only when he wanted something or when he was sick and tired. Which only really solidified Bruce’s suspicion that Dick was worse off than he led on.
Just before Dick could wave goodbye and end the call, Bruce fixed him a look that had Dad written all over it, “Dick,” His son froze and gulped at the tone of voice, “Yeah Dad?”
Batman smiled, “Get some rest. I’ll be home soon to take care of everything, I promise.” Dick let out a breath of relief and smiled back, “Yeah, okay. But you’ll get all the things I sent you, right? And some cough drops too because we ran out. Oh! And some tomato soup? Duke asked for some but I couldn’t find any-”
“Dick.”
“Right. Rest. Ok. I’ll do that. Bye, Dad. Bye, Justice League.” He waved goodbye, and his hand looked so little through the screen, and then the whole Justice League waved goodbye back in unison. Even Superman, who had remained completely dazed the entire time, managed to raise his arm and wave goodbye to the boy.
As the call ended and the screen turned black, Batman steeled the smile from his face, returning his cool composure, he faced Superman. “As you can see, I do have better places to be. So, if you wouldn’t mind wrapping this up.”
Clark blinked, and stuttered, “Uh…yes…well…I think we’ve covered enough today, don’t you, team?” The rest of the Justice League nodded and a chorus of affirmation rang through the table.
“Excellent.” Batman said, “Now if you’ll all excuse me, I have a grocery list.” Then, in a flash of smoke and a whirl of a cape that was all mystery and fear, Batman disappeared. The rest of the heroes stayed where they were, having grown used to the Dark Knight’s frequent disappearances.
Flash tapped his fingers against the table, “So…did anyone know about his-,” He gestured vaguely at the screen, to which the rest of the members shook their heads, except for Superman and Wonder Woman. Superman, because he was still staring at the screen so intently that Flash thought he might bore holes into it. (He might actually.) And Wonder Woman, who only smiled and raised her hand.
“YOU KNEW?? ”
“Of course, I knew. Despite Jason’s star stuckness, I do babysit them often.”
“You-you just?? Babysit?? Batman’s children??”
“Certainly. And I have tea with Agent A every week.”
“Agent A?”
“Batman’s father.”
“Batman has a father?!??”
“Of course he does, everyone has a father, Barry.”
~~~~~~
Bruce returned home at a record speed of thirty minutes later, with his arms full of groceries. The press was no doubt going to have a field day when they saw all the photos of Bruce Wayne dressed in a full suit, (He didn’t have any other clothes to change out of the batsuit besides his work clothes from the meeting he had the day prior.) running like a madman through Walmart. But really, Bruce couldn’t care less. His mission priority right now was helping his kids. And Bruce always completed his missions.
The nearest Walmart from the manor was half an hour away, but Bruce made it home in a semi-illegal fifteen. It still wasn’t fast enough. The moment he stepped through the door he was both confused and terrified by the absolute silence in his house. He had eight children, silence didn’t exist in his house unless something horrible had happened. “Kids?!” He called, hoping that perhaps they were all just engrossed in a movie somewhere. But there was no reply. He abandoned his groceries at the front door and raced towards the living room. “Dick!” He shouted, praying to God that no one was hurt or broken or bleeding. The familiar, all-consuming panic had risen in him and it would not quell until he had all of his kids safe and accounted for in his arms.
Bruce rounded the corner and threw the door open, only to have everything come to a halt at the sight before him. His eyes zeroed in on Dick, first, as he always seemed to scan for his oldest, his little robin, before all else. Dick was on the couch, curled up on the center cushion. With Damian in his lap, tucked under his chin, Tim and Jason cuddled on either side of him. Squeezed between Tim and the arm of the couch was Duke, with an empty bucket on the floor at his feet.
On the other couch, Cass, Steph, and Harper leaned against one another, their heads bent together and arms intertwined. And across their laps in a way that couldn’t possibly be comfortable, laid Cullen. His head resting on his sister’s lap, with her fingers in his hair.
Bruce felt the weight of the sky roll off his shoulders as he sighed in relief. All eight of his children were here, fast asleep. No one even stirred as he crept further into the room. The TV was blaring some Disney cartoon, and there were empty mugs and water bottles strewn about the coffee table and floor. The blankets that they had no doubt been using had mostly fallen away, so Bruce carefully, using every ounce of assassin’s training he had, silently tucked them all back in. Gently maneuvering his kids to lay a little more comfortably against each other. He paused in front of Dick, softly running his hand through his son’s hair.
Dick’s eyes fluttered open. “ ‘ad?” He murmured, Bruce’s heart melted at the way his words slurred. Like he was a little kid again, coming to Bruce for comfort. “Yeah Chum, it’s me. You don’t have to worry anymore, okay? Dad’s here.” Dick sighed, leaning his head against Bruce’s touch. “ I'm sorry about your meetin’. Timmy was only tryin’ to help me.” He slurred, his eyes already falling shut again. Bruce chuckled. “I know, bud, it’s okay. I’m sorry I left you all alone. I should have stayed with you.”
“...here now…” Dick whispered. Bruce pressed a kiss to his forehead. “And I’m not going anywhere,” He agreed. “Go to sleep, Dick. I love you.”
Dick didn’t respond, his chest rising and falling in a steady pattern that told Bruce he was already fast asleep. Bruce allowed himself a few minutes to take in the faces of his sleeping children, even managing to snag a few pictures of this peaceful moment, before he slipped back into the hall for his abandoned groceries. He made quick work of them, even prepping some tea bags and medicine for when the children woke up.
When he snuck back into the room, he found the boys curled even tighter around each other, with Damian now, still being held by Dick, but with his head leaning against Jason’s shoulder. On the other couch, the girls had seemed to do the same, and Cullen had rolled over in a way that had him teetering, and Bruce was somewhat shocked that he hadn’t fallen off yet. He also decided that he couldn’t stand to let his kid sleep in such an uncomfortable position for a moment longer.
Harper and Cullen were the newest to the family, and while Harper had warmed up to them in her own, sharp way, Cullen was still incredibly shy. So, it surprised Bruce when he effortlessly picked the boy up, that Cullen blearily opened his eyes, blinked up at Bruce, dreamily smiled, and then pressed his face into his chest, his arms wrapping around Bruce’s neck. Maybe it was the Nyquil, but dammit. Bruce was going to take what he could get, holding his newest son closer, and fixing the blanket around his daughters.
Bruce ended up in the empty armchair, Cullen still laying against his chest with a soft blanket covered in some kind of Pokemon tucked around them. He sighed softly and did his best not to think about the inevitable explanations he owed the Justice League. (Except Diana, that was.) He might even be forced to give up his secret identity. Cullen shifted against him, nuzzling his face closer, and Bruce decided that it all could wait. Right now, his children need to rest. And Batman would stand watch. Ready and waiting for when they would need him. He’ll be there. No matter what.