And This Is Home: 2 Years Later

Part One of Three

Hello everyone, I'm back from the dead. I haven't forgotten this, I just really suck at updating. Like really suck :/

This will be slightly AU, for those of you who read the comics [SPOILER ALERT... though I'm sure now it's not much of one], instead of Damian being killed off by the Heretic, he was brutally injured. My timeline may be way off, but regardless, this story takes place almost two years after the first part of the story. It will be the first Christmas with Bruce back from the dead.

This will be broken into three parts. Updated Every Wednesday!

Summary: Months after Dick ran off to Chicago, Bruce realizes he must repair the father-son relationship between Dick and Damian.

Disclaimer: Don't own DC or their characters. Sigh. A sad day indeed.

Break out the guilt

It is the season

Stop making sense

Put out those fires and always brace yourself

-Curt Smith, This is Christmas

"You deliberately disobeyed my order," Bruce said, his mouth set in a scowl. The black cape wrapped around him as he folded his arms across his broad chest. He glowered through the lens of his cowl down at his youngest, biological son, Damian.

Damian matched his scowl. "But..."

"No buts. I did not want a repeat of what happened with NoBody. Do you learn nothing?"

"I only..."

"No excuses," Bruce stressed.

The scowl turned to a pout but Damian caught himself and forced the stern frown back. His mouth worked, ready to voice out another protest.

Bruce wouldn't have it. "We're done. I have work to do."

Damian growled. He ripped off his "R" tag from his costume and tossed it at Bruce. "You're right. We are done."

Bruce held back his tongue from referencing that this was the fifth time this month alone Damian had quit. He was too tired to extend the argument. He scoffed. That's all they've been doing lately. Arguing. He watched the kid storm up the stairs, his yellow hoodie cape fluttering behind him. His youngest son would quickly be reprimanded by Alfred for breaking his "no-cape beyond the cave" rules.

Bruce pulled back his cowl and shook his crunched hair. He sighed as he slumped into his computer chair. He pulled off his gloves and glanced at the colored Christmas lights hung around the cave.

Damian had surprised him with that the first week of December. He'd almost yelled that no Christmas decorations were allowed down here, until Alfred reminded him that Damian and Dick had done that their second Christmas together.

He rubbed a crick in his neck. How did Dick get along with Damian when they were the Dynamic Duo? When Dick moved to Chicago, Bruce and Damian slowly started to get along and understand one another. Until Christmas began to loom closer and closer. Something about this holiday was upsetting Damian.

He pushed his worries aside. He had a case that beckoned him to solve, and a life mission to be completed. The enigma that was Bruce Wayne disappeared as Batman searched through photos, police reports, autopsies, and statements.

A throat clearing jolted Bruce back to the surface.

Alfred stood behind him, a tray in hand with two mugs of steaming coffee. "It's already morning, your bedtime, I believe?"

Bruce rubbed his dry, stinging eyes. Five hours had passed?

"I take there's trouble on the homefront?" Alfred asked dryly as he handed the green mug over to Bruce.

Bruce frowned and gathered the mug in both hands. The warm heat seeped through the coldness of his palms. "I swear the others weren't this hard."

"The others don't have your personality." Alfred sent the tray on the computer desk and took a sip from his red mug.

Bruce sighed and gave a shake of his head. "It's funny. I see parts of Talia in Damian. Parts of me. But most of all, I see Dick. It's subtle, but it's there."

He recalled Damian consoling the crying children when Bruce wasn't looking. Damian getting one to smile by sticking out his tongue. By saving that dog from getting run over. By the pranks he'd pulled. By his demands of pizza every Friday night. Sometimes Bruce would have to do a double take to ensure it wasn't a young Dick he was seeing.

Alfred stroked his chin. "They did spend nearly two years as partners before you came along. Dick's bound to have left some influence."

"It's more than that," Bruce whispered, the harsh truth bubbling to the surface. "He would have made a better father than me."

Instead of stroking and raising Bruce's ego, Alfred simply raised his left brow. "And why do you think that, I wonder?"

Because Dick brings out the good in people, and I bring out the bad. Bruce didn't respond, he merely took a sip of the coffee contents. The scalding liquid burned his throat, but he deserved it, especially after that fight.

Alfred measured him and set down his half-drunken cup on the tray. "Master Bruce, may I ask, why did Master Richard move to Chicago? We both know he stayed in Gotham because of Damian." The creases in Alfred's forehead deepened as he seemed to recollect a painful memory. "What happened after what Heretic..." Alfred couldn't finish it. Bruce didn't blame him, they'd nearly lost Damian that night. Alfred gathered his emotions. "What happened between you and Richard?"

Even though it'd been a couple months, the fight was still raw in Bruce's mind. Why was he always pushing his eldest son away? The one who understood him better than most? Bruce writhed his hands around the cup and stared at the swirling contents. He'd never forget the broken, dejected look in Dick's eyes. It was like Bruce had killed a part of him, and he did.

He gazed past the brown liquid and saw Dick, trembling to hold his composure, his anger. "I told him," Bruce revealed softly, sure Alfred couldn't hear him, "that he wasn't Damian's real father."

He felt the sting before he'd registered what happened. He grabbed his cheek as Alfred pulled back his shaking hand. It would've hurt more without that white glove.

When Damian was injured, Dick hovered by Damian's side, waiting for him to recover. He pushed Leslie, demanded her to save Damian, cried, and supported Damian during recovery. Bruce forgotten how it came up, but they were arguing about what was best for Damian during the recovery process. Until Bruce said those fatal words. His heart twisted and Bruce yearned to go back to the case at hand. Get his mind off his guilt.

"Master Bruce." Alfred exhaled softly and Bruce didn't want to hear his words. "I remember how much they were like the original duo when they were together, maybe better."

Bruce remained stoic, but that hurt.

Alfred noticed it, but pressed on. "They were similar in the fact that Batman gave Robin the light and Robin saved Batman from the darkness. They thought you were dead, Master Bruce. Damian was lost, but Dick saved him," and then he added with a twinkle in his eyes, "much like he saved you."

Bruce closed his eyes in shame. Dick gave him a reason to live besides the mission in his life. The mission to rid crime from Gotham. Dick gave Bruce a bigger life. For a child who went through the same darkness as Bruce, Dick still held onto the light.

Alfred's voice strained. "I know it's painful, especially when you are the rightful father, but don't you dare ruin that special bond between them. They both need it. Just like you need yours with Richard."

Damian smiled more when Dick was around. They bantered. There were things Damian would say that would appall Bruce, and Dick would throw a teasing remark back at Damian. Dick would ruffle his fingers through Damian's hair, hug him, hold a comforting hand on his shoulder, take him out for pizza during patrol. He'd seen them on missions. They didn't need to speak, they flowed together like a trapeze act. Much like he and Dick used to.

He'd been jealous. Why couldn't he get close to Damian like Dick was? Bruce knew the answer. He just didn't want to admit it.

After his talk with Alfred, Bruce headed up to his bedroom for a quick nap. He passed by Damian's room, cracked ajar, and was startled to hear Damian's voice. He paused behind the door and listened hard.

"Don't be ridiculous," Damian said. "I'm not going to resort to child's play."

"Ah, Dami," Dick's voice static out of the communicator. "You are a child, you still sleep with that stuffed bear I got you."

A pause. "You're mistaken."

"Oh, am I? Why is it that I get the sense you're blushing?"

"I'm doing no such thing!"

"Aw! You are!"

"I will hang up!"

Dick cackled and it reminded Bruce of the young Dick hiding somewhere in the Manor, his cackles echoing throughout the halls. Everyone always said that Dick's superpower was making friends, his charm. Bruce allowed that rumor to spread because no one saw Dick's real, true weapon.

Dick sees people and understands them. He's able to look beyond the facade and sees them for who they really are. Bruce saw Damian as an assassin, a boy raised by the al Ghuls, a threat. Dick saw him as a child, a boy who needed love.

Alfred was right. Damian needs someone like that in his life. Bruce had to give it to him, because God forbid that Damian grows up to become the mask, like Bruce did.

Damn, whoever is the better father, Bruce thought bitterly. I won't let Damian suffer my fate. I won't let him hide behind the mask like I did, like I still do. Dick broke me free, but I refused to change. Damian's stronger than I am. I can see it now.

He backed away from the door quietly and headed to his room, thoughts swirling in his head.

Dick raised Damian the last two years.

Bruce had only been fathering Damian the last few months.

No wonder Dick had been heartbroken. The first kid was always the special one.

Dick was special to Bruce.

Damian to Dick.

And damned if Bruce would destroy that.