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Bruce - to all his faults - loves all his kids, maybe too much. No matter what they do, he really can't seem to get seriously angry.
His two eldest, well, - both hell on earth, even if he is the most fond of them - Dick, somehow managing to simultaneously be his son, best friend, and shitty straightforward therapist should be easy to get along with, right?
Wrong.
Bruce isn't sure when it started, but the man went from his sweet little angel to the stereotype of a twenty-something year old freeloader still living with his parents and acting like a teenager; eating the food up and annoying his siblings. Begging for money seems to be his favorite hobby nowadays, often interrupting Bruce's work day. He is at the manor less often now, though. Bruce misses him. He should come back - god knows Bruce has enough money for him to stay.
Jason - fucking hell, Jason - is so hard to talk to without Alfred around to mediate. One of them ends up screaming no matter the circumstances. It's a horrible thing to say, but he misses Jay, the kid who read Jane Austen and trailed after Alfred like a lost puppy.
That exact thought is why they fight, so Bruce keeps it to the back corners of his brain.
The ones easier to handle - Tim, Cass, and Damian - are unsurprisingly still problematic.
Tim has to be monitored almost constantly, or else he ends up with caffeine poisoning and a rather concerning screen time. The forced proximity makes him irritable.
Cass finds it fun to poke at his issues, bolder than the rest of them. She's also known for exposing Bruce's secrets to the rest of the family. He's given up on trying to make her stop.
Now, Damian is borderline an animal hoarder and most of their disagreements stem from this hobby. However, he and Bruce are equally as awkward so they actually don't talk much when put in the same room. The silence might actually be worse than any argument they could have.
Duke, the saint he is, is so easy to not get mad at, even when he's inciting riots or breaking stuff. He's so helpful, patrolling during the day and putting up with the families bullshit constantly -
Fuck. Maybe Dick is right in the observation about him picking favorites.
Speak of the devil.
Dick
His eldest's timing is impeccable as always, waiting until Bruce's migraine inducing pondering has ended to barge in dressed like a fast-fashion nightmare.
"Bruce," his son says sweetly. Oh no.
"I said to stop tracking me. Specifically, to your face, so I know you would remember. I know you weren't concussed, either."
Okay. Sue him! He wants to know Dick is okay and functioning when he isn't in a ten foot radius of somebody Bruce trusts.
"Do you know what I found?"
What's the easiest way out of being interrogated about this? Bruce chooses his usual tactic;
"Hn."
Deny, deny, deny.
"Now, I'll make you a deal,"
He raised such a terrifying man. Bruce is so proud.
"Either I'm moving out and you won't have any chances for more trackers, because I won't come see you, or, for the easiest way out; you could just, you know, slide your debit card over? Please?"
Bruce doesn't think he's ever moved as fast as he did to whip his wallet out in this moment.
Dick's evil smile turns into one that radiates so much brightness he has to look down. He quite literally skips around Bruce's desk to give him a half hug,
"Thanks! Now, let's leave this all in the past."
"Of course, Dick."
His son scampers out of his office, proud. Well, that ones out of the way - even if he could've just asked regularly for the card.
Bruce goes back to his weird state of nap-pondering. He hasn't looked at the paperwork he came in here for once.
Jason
Bruce must have dozed off at some point, because when he registers his sons voice, it confuses him more than anything.
"Fucking hell, you sleep like a goddamn dead person. Get the fuck up off your ass, old man."
Rude.
"Jay?" Bruce, in his dozed state doesn't realize this will most definitely cause problems.
"Do not call me that."
Great, next question.
"What do you need, Jason? I'm working."
Bruce finally realizes his head is very much still resting on the desk. He blinks his eyes open and tries to strategically wipe the drool off his papers before anyone notices it's existence.
"Wow, fuckwad. You don't seem very happy to see me. The stick up your ass longer today?"
No, actually. This is what Bruce would say if Alfred had never told him he was failing at being a parent.
"I am," Bruce grits his teeth to get the rest out.
"You're what? Busy?"
"Sorry. I am sorry, Jason. Why are you in my office."
"Oh."
Bruce really hopes whatever Jason will ask will have absolutely nothing to do with his money. Then, he would have to send him after Dick who is most definitely long gone doing god knows what.
"I just need someone to patrol crime alley for a little tonight, I have shit to do."
That.. Isn't as bad as he thought it would be. Usually, Jason shows up when he gets linked to a crime so Bruce can buy his way out of it.
"Yes." Jason's glare intensifies, leaving Bruce a confused mess. He stares into space for a minute reviewing their conversation to figure out where he went wrong. Oh.
"I can do it."
Jason walks out, and Bruce can't help but smile at how well their interaction had gone this time. Small victories.
Bruce decides to start reading through the dreaded stack of paperwork, because he's skulked enough.
Tim
By the time Tim shows up Bruce manages to brave through one and a half pages of complete nonsense he has to look through. It's been two hours.
"Bruce, is the paperwork done, yet?"
Oh, joy. It's the teenager who's actually running his company. Maybe Bruce can pawn the miserable things off on him with the offer of extra coffee.
"Timmy,"
God he needs another nap.
"Come take these away from me before I actually burst a blood vessel trying to read them." The kid looks reluctant.
"I've got a coffee stash under the TV in the family room."
Before he knows it, the paperwork is up off the desk and in Tim's hands. His savior.
Maybe Tim should be his favorite, Bruce things, offhandedly.
"Also,"
He's about to be told something stressful, isn't he?
"Do you know where Dick is? I was reading through our financial records from the past two hours and a lot of money has been spent on plane tickets to -"
Blah, blah, blah. He doesn't even wanna know where his eldest has gone on vacation to without him.
"He's fine." Bruce blinks at the kid and he's gone. Creepy bastard.
Despite the lack of work, Bruce doesn't leave his desk. It's rather comfortable at the moment, too.
Maybe going back to his nap wouldn't hurt.
Cass
Bruce wakes up to a gentle tap on the forehead, much nicer than what his other orphan had chosen to do.
Cass' face is looking down at him. She's about to say something she really shouldn't know.
"You're upset,"
Yes. Yes, he is, but does she know why?
"cause Dick left you here."
Of course she knows.
"How do you know that, Cassandra." He asks this question a lot. Sometimes, she answers body language and context clues, sometimes she just smirks at him.
This time it's the latter. One evil smirk later, She's wandering off towards the kitchen to tell Alfred.
The old butler and Bruce's daughter come back into the office with bad intentions. Bruce knows this because his family is constantly preying on his downfall.
"It has come to my attention, Master Bruce, that you're rather upset about Master Dick's little impromptu trip to the Bahamas."
Of fucking course it's the Bahamas. Dick hates him, he thinks.
"Maybe a little," He agrees.
Alfred knows all, so to calm Bruce's nerves he says;
"You know Master Dick is holding this family together. Let him have this."
Bruce nods, a little out of his element. Is Dick holding the family together? Bruce doesn't pay enough attention for him to actually know.
Alfred leads Cass out of the room while Bruce is oblivious, desperately scraping his brain for anything about Dick being their glue.
Damian
His phone rings loud in the silence of his office.
If its one of his children, Bruce thinks, then he can get it over with sooner. He can deal with what this one wants and then only have one left after.
The screen says Damian. Bruce picks up while signing.
"Father," Damian starts,
"We were at the zoo, when -"
There he goes. Another animal. This is just fine, its perfectly fine.
"- We found out that some of the birds get their wings clipped. Personally, I think this practice is entirely unethical and in order to stop it from happening to this specific one i found we need to take it home."
"Is the bird already in the car?"
"..
Yes."
Makes sense. Bruce doesn't like the fact that their wings are clipped either but that doesn't mean he would just take it home.
A nagging voice in his head that sounds scarily like Alfred is telling him he's a hypocrite, because instead of birds he took home people. Ignore it, Bruce.
A deep sigh, and then he asks;
"You keep saying 'we', so who's with you?"
Duke
"Duke is with me, father."
Holy shit, someone reasonable!
"Hand him the phone."
Shuffling, then muted voices and a screeching followed by rustling and a yelp.
"Hiya, B! I'm driving right now, so try to be quick."
"Did you help Damian get the bird."
Another yelp.
"Hmm, yep! I couldn't just y'know, leave it there." Bruce sighs again, because of course they didn't.
"If you need money for it," Bruce starts.
"Oh, we definitely do."
"Do not ask me. Your brother took my card and ran off to some islands."
There. All the children are dealt with for today.
"Good for him. Dick, right? He was really looking a little pale!"
Is Bruce really the only one bothered his son fucked off for god knows how long?
The call ends after some more screeching followed by a scream instead of a yelp, and Bruce is left back to his own devices.
God, he loves his kids. Even if he knows tomorrow he will have to deal with a hungover Dick, a rant from an angry Jason, a very sickly Tim left in his care, Cass, plotting on how to tell everyone his business, the damn bird, and the zoo having seen two boys smuggling animals into their car.