Bruce was beyond done with the day. It had been a shit day, topping off a shit week, and this farce of a meeting was just icing on the cake. Clark, completely impervious to Bruce's bitter inner monologue, continued to inform the League of the new alien species hovering a few lightyears away from Earth. Bruce understood the danger of a potential invasion—there was a reason he had a whole hard drive of contingency plans for all species of alien he knew of, even the supposedly extinct ones—but he had been monitoring this particular vessel for over three months. All of his files stated that they were peaceful, and even if they weren't, their ship didn't have enough power to overpower Hal Jordan, not to mention the rest of the damn League. This informational meeting had dragged on for an hour, clearly because none of the other Leaguers had bothered to read the informational packets that Bruce had emailed out a week ago, and the billionaire-turned-vigilante was so not up for an unnecessary brainstorming session.
"How bad could they be?" Hal was complaining loudly, carelessly flicking his League issued tablet closed with an incredulous expression. "Supes, they're bird people—"
"And one peck could register a 5.0 on the Richter Scale," Black Canary pointed out, eyebrow raised to increase her sass level.
"They do not have a history of violence," Martian Manhunter injected.
"Yeah, because that's stopped every other alien before," Flash snorted. A second later, his grin morphed into something a little more contrite. "Sorry, any and all aliens present. You guys rock."
"I would just like to stress the need to be prepared—"
"Batman, are you there?"
Bruce perked up immediately at the sound of Dick's voice. He'd left his eldest in charge of the city once it had become obvious that Clark would not tolerate Bruce's absence at the Watchtower. While he trusted Dick to use his best judgement, a part of him couldn't help but anticipate bad news.
Don't let it be one of the kids.
"Report," he barked out, effectively hushing any lingering comments around the table.
"Um…" Nightwing reached a hand up to sheepishly scratch at the back of his neck. Oh no. "We… There's a bit of a situation."
Bruce's eyes narrowed under the mask. Despite the fact that his eyes were covered, Dick's frown deepened, as though he could feel the glare through the video feed.
"I'm honestly not sure how to explain it to you," Dick sighed. Bruce relaxed the slightest bit. If Dick was still calm, the damage couldn't be too bad. "Any chance you could cut your meeting short? Agent A and I tried to handle it, but things are spiraling out of control, and I'm really not sure what to—"
"On my way."
Bruce spotted the problem as soon as he stepped out of the Zeta. Shutting down the transmission signal as quickly as possible, Bruce wasted no time moving towards the control panel. Dick was still in the chair, but his mask had been removed, and his head was buried in his hands.
"Dick, what—"
"Training room."
Dick rose and matched Bruce's pace as the man stalked toward the Cave's gym. Bruce hadn't been worried when Dick was on the video feed, but being confronted with the young man's clear exhaustion made his stomach twist uncomfortably. Something was obviously wrong, otherwise Dick would never have called him away from a League meeting. Still, something about his face seemed to hint that it was worse than he had let on.
Five feet away from the firmly closed door, and Bruce could already hear the screaming. He sighed; it was rare that Damian fell into a mood that both Alfred and Dick couldn't coax him out of, but it wasn't unheard of. Still, he thought, casting a suspicious look at Dick, this was hardly something to call him home over.
The first thing Bruce saw was Damian, red faced and screaming across the room. Stephanie and Cass were both beside him, apparently exerting an extraordinary amount of energy just to hold him in place. Bruce frowned at the scene, then followed Damian's glare across the room to see Jason, standing over by the free weights, looking equally nervous and angry. Tim was hovering between the two parties, looking a little lost, and Alfred was nowhere to be found.
"—FUCKING KILLED MY DOG!"
Oh no.
"Kid, I did not—" Jason bit out, anger winning out for a second.
"YOU HAD NO RIGHT! HE WASN'T YOURS TO TAKE!"
None of the room's occupants seemed to notice Batman hovering in the door way. Taking advantage of that oversight, Bruce looked at the scene a little more closely; the shine on Jason's black leather did seem to have a reddish tinge to it. He glanced between his boys, then looked back to Dick, who still looked drained.
"Alfred's at the vet," his eldest informed him quietly. He was almost drowned out by the continued shouting. "Jason apparently took Titus on a street patrol with him—undercover work, he thought the dog would help him blend in—and Titus got hit when the guns came out. He was still alive when Jay got back," Dick hurried to reassure Bruce, "but Titus had to be rushed to the vet. Honestly, I think Alfie was too afraid to try and fix Titus himself; he's not qualified to work on animal injuries and Damian's been borderline hysterical since Jason returned to the Cave."
Bruce sighed, lowering his cowl. He nodded at Dick, trying to convey that his eldest had done the right thing, then moved further into the room. Damian was still yelling, but Jason bristled up like a cat as soon as he caught sight of Bruce, and his protests were effectively hushed. Tim gave his adopted father a look of relief, then moved to join Dick at the doorway, effectively boxing Jason in.
"Damian." Bruce stopped, unsure of how to proceed. That seemed to be enough, though. Damian's yells quieted immediately, and one look at Bruce had tears streaming out of the child's eyes.
"Pennyworth t-took T-Titus," Damian forced out. He stopped struggling against his sisters, but Steph and Cass maintained the contact. "He's been s-shot, T-Todd took him, I t-told him n-not to."
"Damian, Titus will be fine." Bruce had no way of knowing, of course, but this seemed like the kind of thing Alfred would say. "Alfred has taken him to the best veterinarian in Gotham. Titus is a Wayne. He's made of tough stuff."
"I w-wanted to g-go," Damian confessed, lowering his face quickly, as if he'd only just noticed his tears. "P-Pennyworth said—"
"He was right to make you stay, Damian," Bruce told his son gently. "That way Titus will be eager to come home. Right?" He moved forward, catching his son in a hug. He grimaced slightly at the strangely proud look Steph was giving him, but he refused to let that deter him. "You'll see him soon. We'll even get him a new toy to play with."
Bruce felt a nod against the crook of his neck, and manfully ignored the wet sniff that emanated from it.
Bruce heard a quiet rustling to his right, and saw that Dick had joined him on the floor.
"Thanks," he mouthed, nodding toward the significantly calmer boy in Bruce's arms. Bruce gave a shallow nod, trying not to disturb Damian in his rare show of affection. The moment was ruined, however, by a quiet but reverent "Holy shit."
Within ten seconds, Bruce had yanked his cowl back on, scooped his son up into his arms, and positioned himself in front of the unmasked members of his family.
What looked to be the entirety of the Justice League was clustered around the main area of the Batcave, looking around in awe. Luckily, Tim's new security program had quickly shut down all computers when it registered unauthorized guests, so none of Bruce's files were on display. Damian was quickly passed off to Dick, who had found an extra mask to slap on, and Bruce marched out to meet his teammates.
Clark met Bruce's furious expression with a tentative smile. It slipped into a frown after a few seconds.
"We were worried!" he insisted.
"Is that a dinosaur over there?" called a voice that sounded suspiciously like Hal.
"Dude, do you see the penny?" returned Barry.
"Who could not see the penny?" Zatanna muttered.
Steph, Tim, Cass, Jason, Dick, and Damian all filed out of the gym, masked and frowning in a manner eerily similar to their father. Damian, Bruce noted, was looking a great deal better than he had been a few minutes ago, and he was grateful for the reprieve. Now he could focus all of his energy on kicking Clark's ass.
"Superman," he growled, voice deceptively soft.
"Yes?" Clark still looked nervous, but completely unapologetic. He tilted his head slightly, as if he wanted to get a better glance at the men and women lined up behind his friend.
"Get. Out."
"Hey, who are the kids?" Came a shout from the back. Bruce resisted the urge to grit his teeth. Fucking Queen.
"That's Robin," Captain Marvel responded. "Duh."
"Yeah, one of them," Oliver snapped back. "Who are the rest?"
There was a moment of silence.
"They're all Robin?" Hal tried.
"That's stupid, two of them are girls."
"We don't need to get sexist."
"It's not sexist, you idiot! We've met Robin!"
"Does Batman just steal orphans?"
"Do we even know if they're orphans?"
"Does Batman steal children?"
"Superman," Bruce said calmly.
"Yes?" Superman was definitely nervous now. Good.
"GET. OUT."
a/n: My roommate got to choose a prompt for her birthday, and this was the result. I hated to hurt Titus, but it was literally the only way I could think of to ensure the Batfam (mostly Jason) would be all in one place. Nosy Clark is nosy.