Chapter Text
“I’m just saying, it’s frustrating that Jason is always the victim. He calls you the golden child, but Bruce never hit on him like he did you. He was never as hard on him as he is with me. He's more patient with Jason than Damian, and do you think Bruce would ever miss a dance recital for Jaaon? Not that he'd ever invite Bruce to one, or have a civilian hobby anyway. Jason is somehow still Bruce’s favorite, and we all know he’s definitely Alfred’s,” Tim huffs, flopping down onto the couch.
“It’s not a contest, Tim,” Dick sighs from the far end of the couch. Eventually, he expects Tim to settle down and use Dick’s thighs as a pillow. “Jason's still allowed to be upset. Maybe it’s a sign that you should be more upset about how Bruce treats you. And Alfie doesn’t pick favorites. Don't be silly."
Tim huffs, but his shoulders deflate. They had arrived back at the cave to find Bruce and Jason arguing in hushed tones - before Jason gave him the silent treatment, so Bruce started moping. Tim can't stand to see how messed up those arguments always leave Bruce, so the duo noped out quickly, fimding themselves in Dick’s Bludhaven apartment for the rest of the night.
“Yes, okay, sure, but Bruce apologizes to Jason constantly. I just hate that he doesn't apologize to us the same way, and he tries so hard for the one kid he has that doesn’t want it. You can’t tell me you’ve never been jealous of how much attention Jason gets from both Bruce and Alfred."
“Maybe a little bit, but jealousy is a normal feeling, and I-“ Dick starts, but he’s cut off by his phone ringing loudly. At this time of night (nearly morning), only a handful of phone numbers will get past the silence protocol.
It's Barbara.
“Talk to me,” Dick growls, slipping into his Nightwing voice. Despite using her civilian phone, what else could this be about? Only an hour after Dick signed off patrol?
“Do you have Tim?” Bab’s voice cuts through him sharply.
Dick’s eyebrows furrow as he glances up and down Tim, inspecting him.
“…Yeah? What’s this about?”
“Gotham PD was just dispatched to the Manor, and I can’t get ahold of anyone there. According to logs, Bruce, Damian, Alfred, and Jason should all be home, but nobody can pick up a phone apparently.”
“Fuck,” Dick hisses, and he’s already grabbing his keys and slipping his feet into neon pink crocs. He can’t tell if Tim heard Babs or if he just picked up the urgency and decided he was coming too, but when Dick turns to grab his jacket, Tim is already wearing his and holding Dick’s out to take.
“Why were they dispatched? Who called it in?”
Dick flies down the stairs, taking them three at a time until he reaches the parking garage. Tim is right behind him, and Dick sends him a silent thanks that he remembered to lock the door behind him.
“According to the dispatch records, Bruce called it in. I… you’re on your way, yeah?”
Dick slides into the driver’s side of his beater car and only waits the moment for Tim to slide into the passenger seat himself before he’s peeling out of his parking spot.
“Of course I am. Why were they dispatched?”
“You need to talk to Bruce. There’s no way that… talk to Bruce. This must be wrong. I don't know what's going on.”
Dread fills Dick’s lungs.
“Who’s hurt?”
“I don’t… I don’t. Know.”
“Was there a fight? Is Jason-“
“I don’t know, okay! It’s not very often that I read something on my screen that makes no fucking sense, Dick. Just get to the manor, and figure it out. I’m. I'm going to call my dad and see what he knows.”
She ends the call before Dick can start arguing.
Dick feels hot blood pounding in his chest as he speeds out of the parking garage. Dick tries to hit his first speed dial, but he fumbles the phone, dropping it to the floor. He tries to reach around for it while keeping his eyes on he road, but his hands are shaking. Dick is well aware he’s freaking out, but how can he not when Barbara calls him like that? If this is a false alarm, he’s going to be pissed at everyone.
Tim is silent and still next to him, but when a lapse in Dick’s judgement causes him to briefly swerve in and out of road lines, Tim snaps out of it, looking around and picking up the phone himself. Dick reaches his hand over to grab it from him, but Tim stops him, already dialing Bruce’s number. He holds it between them, already on speaker.
It rings and rings before getting voicemail. Tim immediately redials. Voicemail again.
Tim dials Damian’s number.
Voicemail.
“We can’t panic, Dick. Bruce is probably talking to the police right now, yeah? And maybe Damian left his phone in his room. You know he hates carrying it on him.”
Dick swallows. He tries to focus on the road.
“Try Jason. I don’t... Maybe he knows more.”
With unsettling relief, Jason picks up before the first ring is even over.
“Dick.” He says, and it’s a tone Dick has never heard from him before. It’s thick, from the throat, and feels like grief. No. No, no. No, no, no, no, no-
“You’re on speaker. Dick is driving us back to the manor right now,” Tim’s voice interrupts Dick’s spiral. He refocuses on the road. He expects Jason to make a quip to Tim, and it’s terrifying that he doesn’t.
“So you know?” Jason’s voice sounds so wrong in that tone. There’s some hint of anger, but it’s not directed at them. There’s no hostility.
“Babs just told us that police were dispatched to the manor and then wouldn’t explain anything. Who’s hurt?”
Jason is silent a moment before he let’s out a slow breath.
“No one is dead, no one is dying,” Jason says quietly, “Damian is… shaken up. I don’t know what… Bruce is talking with the police. I’m sitting with Dami. He’s not responding right now, but that’s okay, yeah?” Jason’s voice softens at the end, like he’s speaking directly to Damian, coaxing him out of something bad. His voice moves away from the phone. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? Dick and Tim are going to come to support you. You have nothing to be ashamed about. You're safe, and your family is going to be here for you. Fuck, someone needs to call Cass.”
Dick can’t hear a response from Damian, and that makes his chest hurt. Damian should be frothing at the mouth for being patronized.
“What happened, Jason?” Dick asks through his clenched teeth.
Jason is silent on the other end for a moment. “It… I won’t say everything’s okay. But we’re safe right now, right, Lil D? Focus on the roads. If you get into an accident and kill the both of you, Bruce is going to lose his mind, so drive safe. I don't feel like being a single parent to a preteen... It’s just better to tell you in person, okay? But breathe. We’re going to be okay. Damian is going to be okay. Do you want me to put you on speaker?”
“Yes,” Dick breathes out. He’s trying to do what Jason said, but Jason’s eerie tranquility scares him almost as much as Barbara’s panic. “Can you hear me, Dami?”
“He reaches for the phone-oh, he’s taking it off sp-“
“Grayson?” Damian’s voice calls out, and if Dick wasn’t speeding already, he would be now. Damian’s voice has never sounded that young. That… small.
“Hey, kiddo,” Dick forces himself to smile, knowing Damian can hear it. “Jay helping you out?”
“Yeah,” Damian exhales. “You’re coming?”
“Yeah, kiddo. Me and Tim are on our way.”
“I don’t want Drake. He’s. He’s going to make fun of me.”
Tim’s eyes widen in heartbreak.
“He won’t, Dami. He’s already promised he won’t,” Dick swears, and his eyes briefly glance to Tim’s. When he sees Tim’s hardened expression, Dick just nods firmly. “But that’s okay, you don’t have to see him. He can hang out with Bruce if you don't want him there.”
“Oh,” another exhale. “Okay then. When will you be here?”
“10 minutes,” Dick promises, “We’ll be there in 10 minutes.”
“You... shouldn’t talk on the phone and drive. That’s a crime in New Jersey. And unnecessarily dangerous,” Damian suddenly scolds, and Dick wants to laugh with relief.
“Don’t worry about it, kid. Tim is holding the phone for me. You’re on speaker right now.”
“…That is acceptable,” Damian hesitates. There’s silence for a few moments before Dick can hear the click, signaling the phone is back on speaker. Jason's back.
“When you get here, pull around to the north side patio. There’s a bunch of cop cars, and I don’t know how long they’re gonna be here, so we’re in Bruce’s office just incase… well, we'll talk about it when you get here. We’re in Bruce’s office. At some point, cops are probably going to come up and interview me and Damian, but I won’t let them until one of you guys is here because I don’t want Damian to be alone.”
“Not an… infant…” Damian’s voice mumbles, barely caught through the phone.
“Not an infant, but you’re still our baby brother. I’d do the same for Tim and Jason, and, Jason would do the same for Tim. It’s the way of the world, kiddo," Dick cuts in.
“Drake wouldn't say such words to me at least.”
“Sorry, kid,” Tim’s shaky voice finally speaks up, “But you’re definitely my baby brother. You get demoted to demon spawn when you piss me off, but that’s only most of the time.”
It falls flat, and Tim starts to regret ever being born before he hears a soft “ttch” from the phone. It’s a bad rendition of their usually arguments.
“Grayson,” Damian’s voice calls out again, and Dick furrows his eyebrows, attention zeroing in like a hound dog.
“Yeah, baby bat?”
“Would you take me to the library?”
Dick blinks a few times. “Right now?”
“No. In the morning. Todd told me he used to frequent his local public library. I am having a hard time envisioning what he described, and I would like a… reference.”
“You can just say you want to try to find friends there,” Jason’s voice affectionately teases. “I was tell him about how I met a lot of my childhood friends there. They’re safe, public places, so a lot of kids hang out there after school, before their parents get off work.”
Dick’s smile returns. “Yeah, I’d love to take you to a library. We can go to the Bristol one when this is figured out, yeah? I might need to talk to Bruce for a little bit. I’m sure Alfred would love to take you too.”
Dead silence and then a thud cuts off right after it starts.
Call disconnected.
Tim silently redials. It goes straight to voice mail.
“I don’t… I don’t know what to think about that.”
“I’m purposefully not thinking about it.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
The last 5 minutes of the ride are spent in silence, the only noise coming from the hum of the engine and the dull drops of rain hitting the windshield.
Just as Jason said, there’s half a dozen police cars parked along the driveway. Dick has to count his breaths when he sees yellow police tape. He tries to spot Bruce or Alfred in the mess, but the rain is starting to really come down, and he can’t see of anything.
He parks along the side of the house, and the two get out and walk to the side patio door. Just inside, there’s an older cop standing.
“Can I help you?”
“We’re Bruce’s kids. Jason called us.”
The man pauses, but then he nods. He escorts them past the dining room and living room but let’s them go after that.
Internally, Dick is already drawing maps in his head. So is the rest of the manor –
There’s another cop stationed at Damian’s bedroom door. Dick and Tim walk past her on their way to Bruce’s study.
Dick knocks and waits for an answer. Distantly, he hears Jason shout.
“Come in.”
Dick opens the door slowly, and there’s only a margin of relief at seeing his brother’s alive and not in hospital beds. Jason is crouched down in the far corner, and just past him, Dick can see a small figure pressed into the two walls with his legs hugged to his chest.
Dick smiles, approaching slowly. He hears Tim quietly click the door closed behind
“Hey Dami,” Dick says warmly, and he crotches down a few feet away. Damian’s head snaps up, and rapidly, a few realizations fly through Dick’s mind.
1. Damian’s eyes are puffy and red. His cheeks are wet. Dick has never seen Damian cry.
2. Damian is wearing a neon yellow sweatshirt and obnoxiously blue pajama pants that belong to Dick. Damian has never cared for something as pedestrian as borrowing clothing, going as far as to claim it unhygienic when offered a hoodie.
3.-
Damian interrupts his analysis by launching himself directly at Dick.
Dick isn’t able to brace himself in time, and Damian practically tackles him in a death grip straight to the ground. Dick pulls his arms around Damian, struggling to sit up, and he feels Tim help get him propped up. Damian buries himself in Dick’s arms, and it would be endearing if it wasn't raising ever red flag in Dick's mind.
Damian let’s out a quiet sob, and Dick wraps his legs around the kid as well, covering him entirely with his body.
“I got you, kiddo. It’s gonna be okay,” Dick promises with the words of a man willing to go to no end to make it come true. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
Damian nods, but Dick can’t tell where. With the baggy clothes, he’s just a lump of bonus little boy.
“Where, baby? You already patched up?”
Fuck, did Bruce do something, and call the police in his own guilt? Bruce has a temper, but he wouldn’t… he’s hit Dick before, but… Damian is only eleven. Dick was 16 when Bruce finally snapped at him, and he's been better about that lately. He hasn’t hit Dick in years. Is that before he’s been hitting Da-
“Can I tell them what happened, kiddo?” Jason moves to ask Damian quietly. “They’re going to learn either way because they’re going to be interviewed too. But I think it would make Dick and Tim feel a little better to at least know what’s going on right now.”
Damian hesitates before just barely nodding. Dick looks up at Jason’s face. Jason makes eye contact with Dick before flicking up to Tim.
His expression is tight. There’s not a hint of green on his crystal-clear eyes.
“Bruce walked in on Alfred molesting Damian in his bedroom. He thinks this wasn't the first time.”
Dick's thoughts come to a grinding halt.
Absently, Dick notes that despite the pit, Jason really is the best one to deliver that news. His clear eyes suddenly make sense, his calm words and soothing tone. He always been the best of them at comforting a victim, of taking control of a crisis and getting people from crisis to post-crisis. It’s fascinating to watch him, like his emotions shut off and his priorities zero in on a victim. It's helpful during trafficking cases. Bruce used to be hesitant to let Jason join them on trafficking cases, but when Jason’s task is getting the victims out of there?
No pit, no violence, safe victims. Dick calls it the mother hen override.
“… What?” is all Dick can reply stupidly in the moment. Be hears Tim take a few steps behind him.
No. This isn't real.
“Bruce walked in on Alfred molesting Damian. He yelled for me, and I took Damian as Bruce took Alfred.”
Hood takes the victim, and Batman goes after the perp. Just a normal night. Except- no. Jason took Damian, and Bruce… Bruce goes after Alfred.
Dick hears something hit the wall behind him - hard.
This can't be real. This is a nightmare.
“Tim.” Jason barks over Dick’s shoulder, and Dick feels Damian flinch. Whatever Jason finds, he doesn’t like. His eyes harden and snap to Dick’s.
Dick can't stop and think. He needs to fix this.
“You got Dami?” Hood asks, and Nightwing nods affirmatively.
“We already gave his clothes to the cops as evidence, but they didn’t mention if he could shower. I would let him anyway – there’s no way this isn’t going to be an open and shut case – but Damian is the one who insisted he not shower.”
Nightwing nods again, and he moves his arms around Damian to hold him more securely.
Behind him, there’s a retching sound, and Dick rubs at Damian’s back, trusting Jason to help Tim. He feels grateful to not be the only big brother, to be able to share the burden he didn’t ask for but would never give up for anything.
“I’m so sorry,” Dick hears Tim gasp. He turns both of them around to face Tim, hunched over a trash can and gagging with Jason's hand on his back. Damian’s face just barely peaks out of his hoodie. “I could have stopped this. I thought it was just me. I thought I… Oh, fuck. I’m so sorry. This is ask my fault. Oh my god. I got my little brother molested. I let him be r-”
Tim kneels at the waste can again, Jason rubbing his back in a soothing pattern. Tim gags again, but when Jason takes his hand off brother, Tim snatched it to pull Jason against him. Jason takes it in stride, returning to rubbing his back.
… Tim... Tim too?
Dick feels too many thoughts rush up, and he shoves them down hard. He makes eye contact with Jason who’s eyes, only for a moment, flash green.
“If that makes it your fault, I guess that means I got two of my little brothers molested," says a voice that sounds like Jason, that matches the words Jason mouths, but it can't be Jason. Dicks nightmare is growing. Scratch that. Not nightmare. Fear toxin. This isn't real.
Dick’s head feels like static, but he can’t freak out right now. It’s not about him. He’s okay.
“It's not your fault either. You know that’s not how it works,” Dick parrots numbly. His voice is sterile. He’s worried about how he must look to his brothers right now. Then, he chastises himself for thinking they give a fuck about him right now, when his little brothers have been-
“Grayson?” The child in his arms asks, and he looks down to see Damian’s face. He still looks so young. Did Dick look that young? “Did it… did it happen to you too?”
“Yeah,” Dick exhales before he thinks better of it. His head spins and spins. Damian hugs him, comforts him, and Dick just clutches at him back.
“We’re going to go to...” Jason starts but his confidence wavers. Dick sees his arm wrap around Tim’s shoulder, and he squeezes the teen in support. “We’re going to go to Bruce’s room. Because that. That wouldn’t have been Dad’s room until he was an adult. And then I’m going to go give my statement. And then I will ask if Damien can shower. And then I’ll find Bruce, and I’ll tell him where we are whenever he’s done with this... situation, Okay?”
“Take all the jobs then,” Dick’s voice cracks as he teases, but his slight smile is genuine. “What am I, chopped liver?”
“You have the very important role of being both Damian and Tim’s favorite person. If you need me just call— nope, Damian broke my phone. You can-“
Tim slides his own office out of his pocket and hands it to Jason.
“Passcode is 7821,” Tim says bluntly.
“Do you need this right now? I can go find a burner. There’s gotta be one somewhere.”
“They’re all in the cave. And I… just take it.”
“Okay,” Jason agrees, because he’s tired and Tim’s allow to make decisions. He looks back at Dick. “If you need me, call Tim’s phone, and I’ll be back immediately.”
Dick nods shakily.
“Damian, you gotta keep big bird calm, okay? And Tim, you gotta help Dick because he’s probably going to be holding a 100lbs assassin baby for the foreseeable future. Later, we got work to do figuring this mess out, it but right now, help Dick get Damian to Bruce’s bedroom. Got it?”
“Yes,” Damian whispers against Dick’s chest, and Tim nods once.
“Okay. Break.”
Tim helps Dick stand up, still clutching Damian in his arms, and Jason slips out of the room.
Jason walks down the hall feeling nothing. He walks back into the kitchen, where he was when this all started, and Bruce is sitting at the table talking to… Jim Gordon himself. Yeah. That makes sense.
Bruce has his head in his hands, and he looks at Jason, suddenly anxious.
“Jason? Where’s Da-”
“Dick’s got him. He and Tim drove back from Bludhaven. They’re in the master bedroom.”
Bruce deflates a bit, and he nods his approval. He closes his eyes just a moment. Since Jason last saw him – less than an hour ago, how the fuck - he’s grown dark bags under his eyes.
Jason forces his attention to Jim Gordon.
“Do I need to make a statement? About tonight? I arrived when Bruce shouted for me. Alfred was already out of the bedroom when I got there. Damian hasn’t spoken about it.”
Gordon gives Jason a soft smile, and Jason suppresses the urge to deck him in the face.
“No, son, I… that’ll be alright.”
“Okay,” Jason agrees blankly. He feels a little numb. “Can Damian shower? They’ve collected his clothes. I don’t think he’s going to let you do any kind of collection from him, and I’m not going to force him.”
“If evidence has already collected clothing, then he's free to shower. I’m sorry they didn’t inform you – they probably assumed you didn't know that."
Jason nods his acceptance as he pulls out Tim's phone. He texts Dick. “Shower is fine, per Gordon.” Dick reacts to the message with a thumbs up.
There’s a tinge of discomfort in his gut, but Jason has to continue. He takes a slow breath in.
“Alfred molested me too, when I was a kid. And Tim. And. Dick. I don’t know the extent. We all just. Figured it out.”
Bruce’s eyes close, and Jason can’t look at his face. He looks at Gordon instead. Gordon, thankfully, is perfectly professional. “I’ll need statements from all of you, but not tonight.”
“I thought I was the only one,” Bruce whispers, and Jason finally turns to look at the man’s face. “I… oh my god. I let all of you…”
Jason’s control of his emotions wavers before he tightens down on it.
Bruce looks fucking ruined.
“If that’s how that works, then the only one who’s not guilty of getting their family raped is Damian,” Jason says bluntly.
Bruce’s tired eyes meet Jason’s, and Jason let’s himself feel the pain in his chest by just a fraction. Bruce isn't startled by his tone now, but Jason believes he would have been an hour ago.
He can’t lose control. Not here. Not now. Not like this.
Later. When the police are gone and his family is asleep and Jason can lose himself to it.
Later.
“Why don’t you go see your boys, Bruce?” Gordon asks quietly, “Sounds like they need their dad. I’ll clear everybody out. I can call you in the morning about coming down to the station and at least Damian giving a statement, if he's able.”
Bruce nods. He looks old. “Thank you, Jim.”
“You have nothing to thank me for, Bruce. If there’s anything I can do to make this easier, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Bruce nods again, and Jason can see him shutting down. Jason slides in the chair next to him as Gordon moves to start talking to another officer.
“Bruce,” Jason says quietly, “You can’t shut down right now. I can’t shut down right now. Dickie can’t shut down right now. We’re all dealing with the ghost of Trauma Past, but there’s currently a child in the middle of his active trauma, and Tim wasn't that far off. So we’re going to go up there and be the adults we wish we had when it happened to us. And later, you’re going to go to Clark, and I’m going to go to Roy, and Dickie is going to whoever the fuck he wants because he has too many friends. And then we’re all going to go to family fucking therapy. Okay?”
Bruce can’t help the soft pride that bleeds through the pain. He smiles weakly at Jason.
“Do I… do I tell your brothers about my own... ? That I…” Bruce fumbles, and Jason is struck that this is the first time Bruce is asking him for advice. Jason has never been shy about giving his opinion regardless of being asked, but Bruce is shy about asking anyone for help ever, let alone his prodigel son.
Jason nods. “Yes. No lies. You don’t have to give any details, but Damian is terrified you think he’s weak, and Tim is drowning in guilt that he didn’t say anything and stop it before Damian.”
“Okay.” Bruce closes his eyes and nods quickly. “Okay.”
Jason stands, offering a hand to his dad. Bruce takes it and pulls himself up.
Around them, cops are filing out, and there’s only a low murmur of voices. Jason waits for the last one to leave before he locks the front door. And then the side door. When he starts checking that each window is sealed, Bruce decides to leave him to it. He might need space.
“Meet me in my room when you’re done?”
“Yeah, old man,” Jason dismisses, hiding the way his hands shake. “Go see your kids.”
And then Bruce makes the longest trek he’s ever made: the walk to the master bedroom.
The shower is running when Bruce finally reaches his bedroom. Dick sits on the ground outside of the bathroom, back to the door. Bruce assumes Damian is showering, but-
“Where’s Tim?” Bruce asks, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. Dick just nods to the bathroom door.
“Damian freaked out when he was alone in the bathroom, and he was also freaked out by the idea of showering without the door shut and locked. He asked Tim to stay in the bathroom with him.”
Bruce’s first instinct is to fear that Tim is only repeating the abuse that just happened. His second is to feel disgusted and ashamed he would think that of his son. His third is mollification of his worry – Alfred should have been safe too. His fourth is the return of the nausea that set itself into his bones for moment he creeped Damian's bedroom door open.
Dick smiles with tired eyes, reading something in Bruce's expression. “Yeah, I had the thought too. But nah, Tim is actually sitting on the other side of the door. I can feel him pressing against it.”
“Yo,” a muffled voice greets from the bathroom. “This is kind of weird, and Damian keeps glaring at me, but every time I ask if he wants me to leave, he just glares harder.”
Bruce feels his lips turn up, despite himself. He leaves the bedroom door open and moves to sit on the bed.
“Jason told me it happened to all of you,” Bruce says quietly, “Or I guess, he told Gordon that, and I was right next to him. It… something like it, happened to me. By Alfred. I didn’t know it would… I didn’t know this would happen. But it happened to me.”
“There’s… fuck, B. This is a mess.”
Bruce laughs and closes his eyes. He rubs at his face.
“Yeah. Yeah, it is. Jason said I can’t breakdown yet, and you can’t break down yet either. Jason also said he can’t break down, but he started checking the windows to make sure they’re all locked. I wouldn’t blame him if he lost it or just decided to leave.”
Dick nods solemnly. “Tonight would have been a lot worse without him here.”
Bruce nods his agreement. “I don’t know what I would have done if he wasn’t. Jason pulled me off of Alfred and shoved the phone into my hand, already dialing 911. That’s the only reason I didn’t… I don’t know. But I’m glad Jason was here.”
“We should call Cass... probably Steph too,” Dick says quietly, “I don’t know if they… well, I don’t know. But they deserve to know. Cass needs to be here."
“In the morning, I’ll… I’ll call Cass. If someone else calls Steph? Shit. And Barbara too.”
Dick shakes his head. “Babs saw whatever you said to the operator, and she called me. You probably have about a hundred missed calls from her at this point. Do you want to update her or should I?”
He… He raped my son. Bruce remembers numbly stating over the phone. He raped my son. He’s only 11. Oh my god. Oh my god.
Bruce winces. “I should but…”
Dick snorts as he pulls out his own phone to shoot off a vague text. “I get it. I’ll just confirm what she knows, and that we’re all at the manor. And we’ll talk to her tomorrow? I could ask her to reach out to Cass and Steph.”
“It should be my job to tell them,” Bruce says with a pain of regret, “They deserve to hear from me. And I can’t put that on Barbara.”
Dick shrugs. “They deserve to hear from you, but that doesn’t have to be right now. I think they do deserve to know right now though.”
Bruce feels exhaustion in his bones, but he nods. “I should listen to my kids more. Lord knows you’re all better at this than me.”
Dick gives him a half smile. “Isn’t that how it's supposed to go? You take what you’re given and try to do better for your kids, so that we can be given better and then do better than that.”
Bruce smiles back weakly. He’s about to reply when the shower shuts off.
Dick stands and a few moments later, the door opens. Steam pours out of the room.
Tim steps out first, looking damp from the humidity. Bruce tries to meet his eyes, but Tim won't let him, looking anywhere but at the two other men in the room. Damian steps out from behind him, looking smaller than he did when Bruce first met him.
He's wearing Dick’s clothes, part of him recognizes. Its almost adorable how large they are on him. His hair is still dripping wet, and he clearly didn’t take the time to dry off very much. Bruce stands slowly and walks over to him, taking the towel thrown around Damian’s neck.
Damian hasn’t moved his eyes from staring at the floor, but he hasn’t flinched away from Bruce either. Very carefully, Bruce brings the towel up to dry his son’s hair.
“Hey Damian. How are you feeling?”
Damian shrugs.
Bruce finishes drying Damian’s hair, and he starts to pull away, but Damian suddenly snatches his wrists out of the air and pulls Bruce towards him.
Bruce adapts quickly, wrapping arms around his youngest son. Damian all but climbs up him, latching on. It's not uncommon for kids going through trauma to seek comfort, especially from their parents, but it's unheard of in this kid. Bruce carries Damian to the large bed, sliding under the covers with him.
“Hey, Dami? If you’re okay with dad for a little bit, I’m gonna go find Jason,” Dick suggests, and Bruce feels a wave of relief that he’s not in this alone. His kids shouldn’t have to pick up where he fails, but they do.
Damian nods against Bruce's chest, and Dick steps out. Tim watches Dick leave, standing and awkwardly looking between the bed and the doorway.
Damian has curled up on his left side, so Bruce pats the space to his right.
“C’mere, kiddo.”
Tim floats over and ginger slides into bed without touching Bruce. Bruce hesitates with his arm hovering over Tim.
“Can I touch you, or would you rather I not?”
Instead of verbally answering, Tim flips over so his back is to Bruce, and he scoots back. His spine presses against Bruce’s side, touching but not restricted. Bruce places a hand on his shoulder.
On his other side, Damian has slipped his thumb into his mouth and starts to suck quietly, a site never saw as he's barely known his son for a year. Bruce makes a mental note to watch that. Children can regress milestones after trauma. Bruce doesn't really know if he should correct Damian if it continues, but right now, anything that soothes his son without directly harming him is allowed. He doesn't need a parenting book to know that.
Bruce settles in with his two youngest, and it feels strange but it's too comforting to protest. Tim is on the cusp of manhood. Damian is ‘almost’ a teen (as he himself insists). He watches the doorway, still open as his two oldest sons take care of the house and, hopefully, each other.
“I want you - both of you – to know that you are not alone. I… Alfred hurt me, when I was much younger. I didn’t think he would hurt you too. I thought I was the only one, I thought... Well, I guess I didn't think. I failed you, and I am so sorry. I’m… I’m going to spend my entire life making up for that.”
Tim presses back in acknowledgement of hearing him. Bruce doesn’t pry, if he doesn’t want to talk about it right now.
Damian’s eyes are wide as he looks up at Bruce, seemingly unaware of the thumb in his mouth. He carefully searches for Bruce’s face for something.
“I know… I know that it wasn’t my fault. Grayson and Todd said so as well, but can you…”
Bruce leans down to kiss the top of Damian’s head firmly.
“What happened was not your fault. I… I am so sorry he did that to you. It wasn’t okay. You have nothing to feel ashamed of. You’re okay, buddy. You didn't do anything wrong.”
Damian nods, and he lays his head to rest on Bruce’s chest. He exhales slowly.
“We’re going to go to sleep and sleep in as long as we want,” Bruce hums as he runs over gameplan, “When we wake up, I’ll make breakfast or Jason will make breakfast, and I’ll talk to Gordon about taking our statements. Then maybe we pack up and head to the penthouse for a little bit. Not forever, but I think somewhere different… I’m going to ask Jason and Dick to stay with us a few days at least. Going to call Cass home... And Tim? Please stay with us. I won’t make you, but if you don’t want to stay with me and Damian then Dick or-“
“I’m staying,” Tim shakes his head. “Don’t worry, I… yeah.”
“We’re also staying,” Dicks interject from the doorway, and Bruce looks up to see his two eldest sons. Dick looks calm enough, but Jason…
Jason’s eyes are haunted, and there’s a vague green tint to them.
Damian takes one look at the pair and declares, “Todd. I request that you sleep next to me.”
Jason blinks a few times. “You sure you don’t want Dickie?”
Damian pouts. He’s never acted his age more.
“I would have said Grayson then. I believe Drake would appreciate Grayson on his other side, so it’s only reasonable that you come to mine.”
Jason snorts, but he doesn’t argue. There’s a restlessness to his body, but he doesn’t seem out of control. He still hesitates.
Dick, however, doesn’t hesitate, and he’s sliding in next to Tim. Bruce’s chest aches for what it’s taken to get all of his sons together. He wishes Cass were here. He prays she was too old and too female when he adopted her, that she won’t understand. That she isn't apart of this club made from Bruce's personal hell.
Jason gives in and quietly walks over to the bed. He slides under the blanket and moves closer to Damian, just barely not touching. Damian is not having that, and he yanks his brother closer. It's so unlike him that Jason can pretend he only allows it because he's startled.
Jason is going to be weak to all of Damian's desires for a while. He’ll probably be weak to all of them for a while. Even Bruce. Yuck.
“Doors are locked. Windows are locked. I engaged the lockdown protocol on the Manor. Texted Cass, Steph, and Babs to come in through the cave unless they wanna deal with the alarms,” Jason mumbles, as though giving a report.
“I’m so proud of you,” Bruce says quietly instead of replying. “All of you.”
Jasom grumbles, but Dick preens. Tim smiles shyly. Damian pretends he’s not also smiling.
“I want everyone to reach out to someone outside of the family to talk to about this,” Bruce yawns. There’s still so much to talk about. “And we’re going to family therapy. I think individual therapy would be good too, but I won’t try to force it. I’m… I will be seeking out a therapist for myself.”
“Whoever gave you that idea is so smart,” Jason sighs, and Bruce flicks his arm.
“Yes, my son told me, and I’ve learned to trust him when it comes to these things.”
“Who are you reaching out to, then?” Dicks quiet voice joins.
“Maybe Clark,” Bruce says uncomfortably, like he's admitting to murder, and Jason wants to cry at just how hard Bruce is trying. “I haven’t… totally decided. But I trust Clark. And I know this is a little late, but if anything… if anything like that happens again, I want you to scream for Superman as loud as you can. I don’t care what the situation is. I won’t be mad at you. You can bring all the metas you want into Gotham if it keeps you safe. Okay?”
“Can I yell Supernova instead?” Tim mumbles, and Bruce snorts.
“I would prefer you find an adult, but yes, Kon would be fine too. What I’m trying to say is I want you boys to get help, however you can.”
“If that’s fine, can I get the okay on Bizarro too?” Jason asks, “Roy doesn’t show up for days when I call him.”
“If you guys all get a Super, I should one too,” Dick whines, “Bruce, this isn’t fair. Tell them to share.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” Bruce points out, “Clark would want to help. He loves you guys.”
“I will default to Superman for now,” Damn states like he’s just made an incredibly difficult decision. “But only because Jon is still young.”
They lapse into silence after that, exhausted from the long patrol and this entire fucked up night. It doesn’t take long for all five to succumb to sleep, protected, at least for tonight, by the precense of each other.
By the time they wake, a sixth has curled herself protectively around Dick's other side.