A/N - This is it! The FINAL CHAPTER!
Six Months Later
Christmas Eve
Bruce stepped out of his pickup truck, roses in hand. A light dusting of snow was falling as he stood in the gloom of a back corner of Crime Alley, lit only by his still-running vehicle's headlights. The truck's hazy beams shone through the flurry of misty snowflakes that were landing with fragile delicacy on Bruce's black wool peacoat, each a dazzling, lacy work of art for a single instant before dissolving into droplets indistinguishable from the ones coming out of Bruce's eyes.
He sighed, feeling the familiar tightness in his chest, the burning lump in his throat, the hot tears running down his cold cheeks. His hand clutched the green stems of his bouquet tighter, as if they were a lifeline to another set of hands long turned to dust.
"I love you," Bruce said to the shadows on the snow covered pavement, wiping tears from his eyes with the tip of his thumb that he'd refused to encase in gloves, needing, as always, to feel the bite of the cold, the sharpness of the moment, the gritty, ongoing realness of the last square meter of earth he'd occupied with his parents breathing beside him.
"I miss you," Bruce added as he bent down, laying the roses on the rough ground that no amount of snow would ever wash clean. He flattened his palm on the ground, fingers scraping the chewed up edges of potholes and years of neglected infrastructure bills.
He ought to get more involved with the upkeep and revitalization of Crime Alley, Bruce thought to himself as he did once every year, when he trudged down to the one neighborhood in Gotham that he routinely shied away from - but even former-Batmen had limits.
Bruce knew he'd spend the upcoming year exactly as he'd spent this last; resolutely ignoring any mention of the first and most potent source of his nightmares. He sighed as he straightened up, guilt warring with selfishness and self-doubt and grief.
If not for the cessation of the piercing wind that was somehow finagling its way through his very-expensive coat as he stood in the shadows, hiding from the light as he always did, Bruce wouldn't have known that he was no longer alone.
"You're getting sneakier," he said without turning his head around.
"I have been well taught," Batman rumbled from where his bulk was protecting the bereft billionaire. A large arm crept around Bruce's waist, tugging him close under the cover of darkness.
Bruce melted against his husband's chest, sighing and clutching Bane's gloved hand tight in his bare one.
"Thank you for coming," he said.
"Mi cielo," Bane said in surprise. "I would not ever let you suffer alone, if I could help it," he said, pressing cold lips to a colder ear.
"You do help it," Bruce said softly. "So much, love." Bane hummed and wrapped his second arm around his husband, squeezing him tight.
"They would be very proud of you," Bane said confidently.
"I hope so," Bruce said, as his voice caught in his throat.
"Without doubt," Bane said. "And they would love the beautiful family you have created from the ashes of your trauma."
"They would love you," Bruce said warmly, finally turning his head so he could catch Bane's lips in a kiss. "Not only for who you are, but for what you've done for us." Bane smiled and the two men stood huddled together, sharing comfort and grief, for a few long minutes. Finally, Bruce shifted as if ready to go, so Bane gave him one last, tender caress.
"I will see you at home," Bane said quietly. "Red Hood and Harley are covering patrol for the rest of the night."
"Oh," Bruce said, startled, although he shouldn't be by now. Bane was nothing if not thoughtful and sensitive to his beloved's unspoken needs. "Thank you," Bruce whispered. Bane brushed his lips and disappeared into the night.
As Bruce walked to his truck door, his eyes flicked unbidden to the far end of the alley. Barely visible, only a blurred silhouette fading against the furthest reaches of his headlights, Bruce saw the outline of a jester's crown leaning against a bulkier figure with a suspiciously helmet shaped head.
And dammit if he didn't smile.
"Boob!" Bruce yelled out, loud and strong into the crisp night air. A mechanized laugh floated back to him on the wind, interlaced with tinkling giggles.
At least they'd left the tires on his truck.
The next evening found Jason and Harley out of uniform, snuggled up in front of the fire in a festooned Wayne Manor living room, swathed with evergreen branches and cranberry and popcorn garlands, all topped off by an enormous live Christmas tree under which a collection of wrapped presents were still waiting to be opened.
On the tree, expensive looking antique ornaments had been lovingly mixed in with flimsier handmade ones, some signed Steph in a tipsy hand, others marked Dick and Jason. The coffee table was piled high with desserts, a towering croquembouche dusted with green sprinkles mimicking their tree, along with platter after platter of various cookies, and, of course, an intricately decorated cake sporting poinsettias and holly.
"What is taking them so long?" Damian pouted, bouncing Osito impatiently as he sat snuggled jointly on Bruce and Bane's laps.
"Betcha ten bucks Babs wouldn't put the siren on," Harley snickered.
"No bet," Damian sulked. "We all know that Barbara has an abominable addiction to following the rule of law."
"Excuse me!" Bruce sputtered as Harley's jaw dropped in delight and Jason rolled in laughter. "We approve of following the rule of law in this household, mister," Bruce said with mock severity as Bane chuckled beside him.
"Since when, sir?" Alfred said dryly, sipping on his cup of tea. Bruce was thankfully saved by the sound of the front door opening and a noisy bustle coming down the hall.
"No fair!" Steph whined as soon as they came into the living room. "How did you beat us here? You left after us!"
"Barbie drives as slow as a turtle," Jason smirked.
"I think you mean Jason drives faster than a bat out of hell," Babs quipped back, as Tim and Steph plopped down onto the floor in front of the fire while she and Dick made their way to a loveseat.
"I went to heaven, thank you very much," Jason said with great offense, putting his hands on his hips. Everyone froze. "You thought I went to hell?" Jason screeched into the silence. "I'm taking back all your Christmas gifts! How dare you?"
Bruce groaned loud and long, breaking the tension.
"I knew you went to heaven, Jason," Dick boasted. "That's why I got you that angel bracelet for your birthday."
"Bitch, you are getting double coal from me!" Jason screamed, throwing a pillow at him.
"Do not hit my food!" Damian shrieked at all of them. "I will draw my blade and demolish anyone who destroys my masterpieces with any implement other than their digestive tracks!"
"No blades," Bruce said in a tired voice.
"And no pillows," Bane added, managing to look stern despite his twinkling eyes.
"Can we break out the digestive tracks?" Tim asked, raising his hand. "Because I really want to dig into those desserts," he said, looking suitably impressed at Damian's display. The tiny boy puffed up with pride and looked to Alfred, rather than Bruce or Bane, for approval.
"Conversation and gift giving pair excellently with pudding," Alfred declared, standing to help cut the cake while Damian jumped to his feet and scampered around handing out Christmas-themed china plates and silverware.
"How was your dad?" Bruce asked Steph when she came over to load up on sugar.
"Good," Steph said, a smile lighting up her face. "Really good," she said. "It was nice to see him interacting with his friends," she said. "He never used to get along with other people when I was growing up." She paused. "If you could call this afternoon's insanity getting along," she giggled. Tim shuddered dramatically.
"I did not know the cost of dating Steph was gonna be spending Christmas with the Suicide Squad," he teased from right behind her at the dessert table. "Your dad totally should have threatened me with that instead of Deadshot. But you're worth it," he quickly added with a grin, smooching a kiss to his girlfriend's lips.
Bruce's eyes gleamed in amused sympathy, although he wisely kept his mouth shut in front of his daughter-in-law, who was playfully scoffing at Tim's words.
"Last I remember, somebody owed the Suicide Squad a debt of gratitude," Harley said.
"Yes," Tim said, "and it was so sweet of Deadshot to draw inspiration from that day and make everyone bullet portraits of themselves as presents," Tim said back. Bruce clamped his jaw shut tight and refused to make eye contact with Bane, who was silently shaking beside him.
"What day?" Dick was asking, looking slightly confused until Babs distracted him by popping a cream puff from the croquembouche into his mouth. Jason snorted. "Oh my God, this is delicious, Damian," Dick said with his mouth full. Damian beamed. Steph coughed.
"The Squad didn't suspect anything about your relationship with Jason and Harley?" Bruce asked the two teens, feeling slightly anxious despite knowing that he had trained them well as actors.
He'd even insisted on the additional precaution of having Babs and Dick pick the children up at the end of the afternoon, rather than letting Tim and Steph hitch a ride back to Wayne Manor with Jason and Harley, who, unbeknownst to the Suicide Squad, would be heading to the same destination.
Harley and Red Hood had, for their part, played their role as strangers to the Waynes to the hilt, cheerfully offering to drive the teens home "on our way to the BatCave" when Bruce had dropped Tim and Steph off at Croc and June's earlier that day. Arthur had enthusiastically vouched for his friends' reliability, but Bruce was the OG actor of the Bats, and as Brucie, he simply was not having it.
"Does either one of them even have a driver's license?" Brucie had asked Arthur, scandalized at the thought of allowing his wards into a car with nefarious former villains turned sometimes do-gooders at the wheel.
"Ehhh, maybe not," Arthur had conceded, even as Harley insisted that she didn't need a current license because nobody forgot how to drive and how was Red Hood gonna get a driver's license anyway, it wasn't like he could give his secret identity out to the Department of Motor Vehicles.
"Commissioner Gordon and my son will pick Tim and Steph up," Brucie had firmly decreed, with a scathing look for the unrepentant anti-heroes.
"We all played it cool, Pops," Jason answered Bruce now, before cramming a frosted sugar cookie into his mouth. "The kids did good," he said, spewing crumbs until Alfred glared at him, causing him to gulp and swallow before continuing. "They acted like they'd only met Harley the one time and like they'd never met me at all."
"Good," Bruce said, sighing in relief. "Well done," he said to Tim and Steph, who smiled at him.
"We're the next generation of Brucies," Steph declared with pride.
"Dear God," Bruce muttered, but his lips were twitching.
"Can we open presents now?" Dick demanded when everyone had gotten food and was seated again.
"Sure," Bruce said, although he, too, glanced at Alfred first for confirmation. "Did you want to go first?" he asked Dick, who was bouncing in his seat with all the excitement of a small child.
"First to hand mine out, yes," Dick said, already putting his dish down and making a beeline to the tree, where he scooped up the gifts wrapped in Nightwing blue and began distributing them.
"A lot are from both of us," Babs explained as Dick went around the room. "But not Harley and Jason's," she stressed loudly and clearly. "That one is only from Dick," she said as Jason began to rumble with anticipatory bitching.
Bruce swallowed a laugh. He would take playful rivalry over blatant hatred any day, and Dick and Jason's mutual ongoing jabs did seem to soften the sharp edges of their feelings towards each other, so who was he to interfere with what was working?
"I'm opening ours first," Jason declared, ripping the paper off as soon as Dick was reseated next to Babs. "You motherfucker!" he shrieked the next instant, holding up a beautiful angel tree-topper - a male angel - sporting short black hair and bright blue eyes.
"What?" Dick said innocently. "Doesn't it look nice? I thought it was very tasteful."
"You're a little shit," Jason declared with more enthusiasm than heat.
"As we have discussed multiple times, I am a dick," Dick said peacefully, while Babs snorted and shook her head side to side.
"I dunno, I kind of like it," Harley said thoughtfully as she took the angel and examined it. "It's so handsome," she cooed up at her husband, whose face relaxed into a smile as his wife leaned in to kiss him and whisper flirtatiously in his ear.
"Open yours next, Dami," Dick said, genuinely smiling now. Damian undid the tape and wrapping paper with fastidious precision before his eyes lit up as he pulled out a child-sized set of escrima sticks.
"Thank you, Richard and Barbara," Damian said politely, turning the sticks over in his hands and testing their weight with quiet approval all over his face.
"You two next," Babs said to Steph and Tim, who also discovered escrima sticks in their own size, although Steph's were purple and Tim's red.
"We talked to Bruce and Bane and thought it was time to start rounding out your weapons training a bit," Dick explained, smiling at the three children. "I'm going to help train you on them," he added. Jason caught Harley's eye and silenced a sigh as she squeezed his hand, but Tim and Steph were beaming when they thanked their big brother and sister-in-law for their gifts.
Alfred's eyebrows went up at the miniature photo album from Dick and Babs, but he downright smirked when he began flipping through the pages.
"Proof of my reformation," Dick grinned as Alfred held up the photo evidence: weekly selfies of Dick in his and Babs' beautifully tidy apartment, with not a stray dish or article of clothing in sight.
"At long last," Alfred sighed. "My teaching has taken hold."
"Better late than never?" Dick offered. Bruce happened to glance at Babs as Dick spoke, and by the soft shining light in her eyes, he suspected that she was of the same opinion, even if she would have much preferred to have Dick's transformation come sooner, rather than later.
Bruce and Babs had made a concerted effort to reconnect over the last six months, and Bruce had been both relieved and hopeful when he heard that not only had Dick given up his Bludhaven apartment for good, but that their couples counseling was having positive results in their relationship.
"He's stopped running," Babs had said to Bruce one night, when she'd stopped by after work to hang out with him in the BatCave, as she was now in the habit of regularly doing. Babs and Bruce, and often Alfred, too, would play catch-up over cups of tea while Dick patrolled as Nightwing in Bludhaven and Bane and his Batlings covered Gotham, with Bruce keeping watch from the BatComputer.
"We can actually talk about our problems now," Babs had said to her father-in-law, "and Dick's so much less scared to tell me what's bothering him, or to hear my own frustrations."
"For me, too," Bruce had said. "You know we still butt heads from time to time," he'd confessed to a Babs who'd only grinned and nodded, "but we stop and work it out in the moment," Bruce said. "Neither one of us is holding onto resentments anymore or avoiding the hard conversations."
"I'm really proud of him," Babs had said softly.
"And a lot happier, too?" Bruce had asked her, and she'd nodded, tears shining in her eyes.
But the tears were in Bruce's eyes now, when he unwrapped his gift from Babs and Dick, because there, in a shiny new photo frame, was a faded photo of Bruce, Dick, Babs, and Jim Gordon, out on the veranda one fall evening, just before the light had faded enough to make photos impractical.
Bruce swallowed hard, remembering the day. Jim had gifted Babs a new camera for her birthday, and she'd spent the afternoon with Dick snapping up a storm of photos as they prowled around Wayne Manor and the grounds. Just before sunset, the teens had cornered their parents on the veranda, insisting on a photo of them, too.
Bruce could almost feel Talia's arms around him and hear her warm laugh, as she'd plopped down into his lap and he'd leaned them closer into Jim for the photo. Afterwards, Talia had gotten up and insisted on taking a picture of Babs and Dick with their fathers.
Oh. Bruce's chest spasmed as he blinked away tears.
"Is it too much?" Babs said softly. "We didn't mean to upset you, but we found them in a box of my stuff and …" she trailed off.
"I love it," Bruce said roughly, tipping it towards Bane so he could see, too, and then the rest of the family. His husband's arm came around his waist and Bruce gratefully sank into it.
"We found the other one, but figured you'd want to look at it later," Dick said quietly, passing over a sealed envelope. "Or not at all," he added, blinking away his own tears.
"Thank you," Bruce rasped, knowing what he'd see and knowing he wanted to, but when he was alone and could cry his heart out.
Dick glanced at Babs before silently passing Jason a sealed envelope, too, mouthing 'Talia.' Jason ground his jaw and gave Dick a sharp nod as he took it, but he kept it in his lap instead of setting it aside, his fingers curling possessively around the edges, as Harley wrapped him up in understanding arms.
"We put an extra copy in yours for Dami," Babs said in a low voice for Bruce's ears only. "Whenever he might be ready." He sniffed and nodded, wiping his eyes. Bane hugged him tight and Bruce leaned gratefully into his husband's understanding bulk, thankful that Bane harbored not a mite of jealousy towards Talia and what she and Bruce had once had.
"And this is for you, Bane," Dick said, handing a small box over to him.
Bane smiled cautiously as he took the gift and slowly unwrapped it. Bruce had been beyond moved over the last several months that Dick and Babs had bravely followed through on their promise to get to know the love of his life, despite their once brutal history together. No matter what their gift was to Bane, whether it was a generic token of acceptance or something more personal, Bruce felt deeply appreciative that they had gotten his husband a gift at all, considering their past.
Babs and Dick met Bruce's misty eyes with a warm smile before returning their attention to Bane, who was lifting up a metal charm bracelet with a look of mild confusion on his face.
"BBD," he read out loud, fingering the tiny bats and cooking whisk and teddy bear attached to the metal chain, alongside the mysterious beaded letters.
"Best Bonus Dad," Dick explained, turning a little red and dipping his head at the surprised, intense pleasure that flooded Bane's face.
"That's what the kids are calling it these days, instead of step-dad," Babs mumbled, before burying her face in Dick's shoulder in a mutually unusual display of shyness.
"Barbara, Richard, thank you," Bane said in wonder, holding his wrist out for Bruce to fasten the jewelry on, right next to his BFHF wedding bracelet. "I will cherish this as much as I cherish what has transformed in our relationship to inspire such a gift," Bane said in a thick voice. Bruce sniffed, finding himself as choked up as his husband.
"I thank you, too," Bruce managed to croak out to Dick and Babs. "For giving Bane a chance. For being willing to forgive him."
"Well, we all needed forgiveness for something," Dick sighed.
"I did not," Damian said quite calmly.
"Yeah, old people, speak for yourselves," Tim grinned. "Me and Steph are equally as perfect as Damian."
"Indeed," Steph said regally.
"And as perfect as Osito," Damian nodded. Bruce debated mentioning the little incident of the Batlings sneaking out to Batpatrol once upon a time under strict orders not to, but eh, well, it was Christmas. He supposed his children could be falsely accused of perfection for one day out of the year.
"Oh! Speaking of Osito!" Steph said, scrambling up from the floor and rummaging under the tree for a specifically wrapped gift. "Merry Christmas, Damian!" she beamed at him, thrusting a purple-wrapped, floppy package his way.
Damian smiled eagerly as he unwrapped the gift, and his entire being seemed to vibrate and glow when he lifted up a tiny fabric Batsuit.
"It's for Osito!" Tim said unnecessarily, beaming with pride. "Or BATsito, should we say!"
"I made it!" Steph said, equally proud. "But it was Tim's idea," she smiled. "And he helped."
"By helped, we mean I convinced Bane to take Bat-Mite out on patrol with Batboy and Batman every time that Steph needed to take a measurement or do a fitting," Tim grinned.
"I may have played a small part in the persuading process," Bruce admitted, chuckling slightly.
"Beeeeeee!" Steph whined at him. "It was supposed to be a surprise!"
"For Damian," Bruce shrugged. "I might be the former Batman, but I'm still the World's Greatest Detective," he boasted. "I know what's going on in my own home. These days," he added quickly, looking guiltily at Jason and Dick.
"Says the man who once upon a time didn't even know that his own son wasn't a brainless zombie," Jason drawled, rolling his eyes while Dick turned a shade of candy cane red.
"Yeah, Batsy. You ain't never gonna convince me about that detective bit," Harley said, shaking her head at him in serious concern for his delusional state of affairs.
"Right on, babe," Jason said, holding his fist out, which his wife promptly bumped.
"I am too a detective," Bruce pouted.
"I believe you, mi cielo," Bane comforted him, kissing the side of his head as Damian wiggled Osito into his costume. "You found it within your heart to love me, did you not?"
"Too mushy!" Steph wailed against a background of family groans as Bruce gently pushed Damian out of their laps so he could wrap his husband up in a much more passionate embrace.
"Burn the mistletoe!" Tim cried, covering his eyes.
"You know," Babs said thoughtfully, "since we're on the topic of mush and mistletoe…" She got up from the couch and plucked a small gift out from under the tree, which she brought over to Dick.
"For me?" he said, blinking as a slow, pleased smile spread across his face. Babs nodded and handed it to him. "I thought we were giving each other our gifts at home," he said as he carefully tore the paper off.
"I wanted to give you this one here," Babs said in a slightly shaky voice. Dick dropped the wrapping paper on the floor to reveal a tiny jewelry box.
A tiny, ring-sized jewelry box.
Dick stared at it dumbly, seemingly afraid to even breathe while Babs plucked it back out of his hands.
"Dick Grayson," Babs said quietly but resolutely when she cracked the lid open, "will you marry me?" she asked, her voice catching on the last few words.
A men's platinum band that sparkled with brilliant blue sapphires, interspersed with tiny diamonds, sucked all the sound out of the room. Dick's eyes were as big as Damian's croquembouche, locked and frozen on the ring.
The fire snapped.
Dick blinked. Sniffed. And suddenly he was sobbing, grabbing for Babs and pressing kisses into her mouth while babbling 'yes' as many times as he could, with tears running down his cheeks while his hands tangled in her hair. The tears began sliding down his new fiancée's face, too, while she tried to get 'I love you's' out in between Dick's frantic kisses.
Bruce found that his eyes were almost as wet as Babs' and Dick's as he watched the tender scene unfold. Only half a dozen months ago, the couple had doubted such a moment would ever be theirs. Bruce met Alfred's fond, equally emotional eyes as they smiled at each other over the boy who had changed the trajectory of their lives forever.
Dick had come so far from the grieving child he'd once been. And Bruce knew that Babs hoped to one day have children with Dick, so then Bruce would be a grandfather - and Alfred a great-grandfather! The wonder of it all, that orphaned Bruce Wayne should go from no family to being surrounded by such an abundance of relationships, filled his heart with overflowing joy.
Across the room, Tim and Steph were aww'ing and cooing over Dick and Babs before whispering in each other's ears and sharing tiny romantic kisses full of promise. Despite their already stated intentions to one day get married, Bruce dearly hoped that Tim and Steph's own engagement was still a long, long ways off. They were only seniors in high school, after all!
But he had to confess, it made him happy to see them so in love and planning a future together - even if he hoped that they took slow, measured steps to get there. At Bruce and Bane's feet, Damian was looking curious and mildly intrigued by Babs' proposal, although he was clearly more engaged in cataloguing the rest of the family's reactions rather than overcome by emotions himself.
By the fireplace, Jason and Harley were looking over at Dick and Babs with a certain amount of caution mixed in with their gently congratulatory smiles. Which was fair, Bruce supposed. Jason was incredibly protective of Babs, and even leaving aside the bitter history between him and Dick, he and Harley were both undoubtedly concerned about whether or not Dick had truly changed enough to be ready for marriage.
Bruce had a feeling that Jason would probably be delivering several more shovel talks to Dick, but he suspected that Jason and Harley would both only be offering Babs their support and acceptance. For his part, Bruce was confident that Babs wouldn't have proposed if Dick hadn't truly made the changes he'd needed to and that they'd all seen evidence of - but maybe deep down in his heart, Bruce didn't quite mind the idea of Jason doling out a few threats.
Jim Gordon wasn't around to do it, after all, and if his old friend was looking down from Heaven, he'd probably appreciate the feisty teenager he'd once known and loved taking up the fatherly shovel on his behalf. Besides, although Bruce wholeheartedly believed in Dick, he also loved Babs - and he used to be Batman, dammit. Threats should be doled out on her behalf. It was only right, Bruce decided with satisfaction, but definitely better that they come from Jason.
Over on the loveseat, Babs was finally pulling away from Dick's lips so she could slide her engagement ring onto his finger, sealing it with more kisses under the whispers of Dick's promises. Bruce clasped his own hand in Bane's, deliberately pressing their wedding bracelets together, and turned his head to kiss his husband deeply on the lips.
"I love you so much, baby," he said to him, squeezing his fingers.
"Te amo, te amo, te amo, mi amor," Bane returned in a throaty whisper. "Later tonight, I will show you just how much," he promised, sending a shiver of anticipation down Bruce's back. His and Bane's sexual relationship had continued to blossom and, well, Bruce was now more than willing to bottom whenever Bane wanted, although Bane remained equally happy to be fucked by Bruce.
God, he was so glad that their sex life matched the romantic passion that they had in their hearts for each other. But Bruce didn't mind waiting until after patrol tonight to receive his final gift. Sharing this time with his family first, and then having the quiet, proud satisfaction of listening in while his husband patrolled as Batman while Bruce himself remained safely in the BatCave, watching over him and their children - his life was now so full of love and happiness that his sex life was truly the icing on the cake.
But Bruce could not deny that it was damn delicious icing. He snuggled closer into Bane's shoulder while Damian took advantage of all the canoodling in the room to hand out his own presents, each encased in a cheery holiday tin with a bow stuck on top.
"These are from me and Grandfather together," Damian announced proudly, beaming at Alfred, who smiled right back at him.
"Ooh, M&M cookies! My favorite!" Tim exclaimed, upon lifting the lid off his tin. Steph immediately opened hers next, crying out "Blondies!" and promptly stuffing one of her favorite treats into her mouth. Similarly pleased exclamations echoed around the room as each member of the family opened their gifts and discovered their own favorite dessert bar or cookie, lovingly prepared by Alfred and Damian.
"Macaroons," Bruce said with delight, when he opened his gift. He found his eyes getting a little wet again as Alfred smiled knowingly at him.
"These are especially meaningful to you, mi amor?" Bane asked him softly.
"My mother was Jewish," Bruce sniffed. "She used to make macaroons every Passover."
"Not to disparage your dear mother," Alfred said with a small smile, "but I'll have you know that our beloved Mrs. Wayne used to buy macaroons every Passover until one Alfred Pennyworth came into her employ."
"Alfred!" Bruce said, dropping his jaw. "You forced my mom to bake?"
"Not at all," Alfred insisted with a twinkle in his eyes. "I merely forced her to dispose of the ghastly prepackaged atrocities that she had brought into my home and introduced her to their superior."
"His home," Bruce muttered to Bane under his breath, but he was chuckling.
"Mi cielo, it is only a fool who does not comprehend the fact that Bayne Manor is Alfred's kingdom to rule as he sees fit," Bane said back with a smile and wink for the butler.
"Quite so, sir," Alfred tutted with haughty grandeur. "But to continue my narrative, Master Bruce, your mother asked me to teach her how to make macaroons as soon as she had tasted mine, as she enjoyed preparing the Seder meal herself every year. She would be quite pleased, Master Damian, that you have equally mastered the recipe."
Damian smiled up at his grandfather before saying, "I hope you enjoy them, Father, as much as you enjoyed your mother's." Bruce didn't hesitate to take a big bite of macaroon, and he didn't have to fake the happiness on his face from the nostalgia that filled his heart when the coconut hit his taste buds.
"Delicious, Damian," he said with a sniff. "Just like mom's."
"Which is to say, just like Alfred's," Tim giggled along with Steph.
"You never celebrated Passover with us, Bruce," Dick said curiously. "When me and Jason were growing up." Babs nodded her agreement from under Dick's arm that he had snuggled around her as tightly as wrapping paper.
"No," Bruce said softly. "I didn't keep practicing Judaism after mom died. It hurt too much," he sighed. "My father wasn't Jewish, you know," he said, "so it was something special between my mom and me. And once she was gone … it only brought me pain, instead of comfort," Bruce said in a thick voice.
"Do you think it would be different now that you're older?" Jason asked him from across the room. "Now that you have all of us?"
And the fact that Jason included himself in that statement, well, Bruce hadn't thought that his heart could get any fuller, but damned if it wasn't overflowing again, leaking its abundance out of his eyes. His retinas had to be at least as red-streaked as candy canes by now, Bruce sighed to himself.
"Maybe," Bruce said thoughtfully, wiping his eyes before biting off another piece of macaroon, which he chewed as he considered Jason's question.
"I'm Jewish, ya know," Harley said. Bruce had known; it was part of his case file on the former Harleen Quinzel, but he hadn't had reason to think of that particular fact about her in years. "Me and the gang are gonna have a big Hanukkah party tomorrow 'cause it's the first night," Harley said. "We gotta teach little Kiara how to play dreidel," she giggled, "and Jay is gonna make the latkes 'cause no way can I do anything other than microwave frozen ones."
"You're going to light the menorah, though," Jason pointed out. "And sing the prayers."
"Yeah, I can do that much," Harley smiled. "But look, Brucie, Hanukkah lasts for seven nights, right? We could have another party over here with the family if you want, later in the week. Jay could teach Damian how to make the latkes with him."
"Yes! A Hanukkah party!" Steph cheered. "Come on, B, pleeeeease?" Tim looked equally enthusiastic, and even Damian looked somewhat eager. Probably more at the idea of learning a new recipe with his baba, but still.
As Bruce looked around at his family's encouraging faces, he thought back to his childhood memories of his mom, placing the menorah in the window - "so everyone can see God's light," she used to explain - and Bruce remembered how the warm glow of the menorah in the darkened room would fill his whole being.
He thought of the safe, happy feeling he used to get from his dad and Alfred lovingly participating in a ceremony that wasn't theirs, of the beauty of being gathered together in an unbroken family circle for those few sacred moments. Well, this past year had certainly been a year of miracles, hadn't it? Not only for Bruce, but for his entire family.
Maybe ending the year with a celebration of miracles would be fitting. And maybe … maybe it would make his parents' invisible presence shine a little brighter in Bayne Manor, Bruce realized. Because maybe he had confined his parents to that dark alley for too long, trapping them - no, trapping himself - in the moment of their demise, instead of living in the warmth of all the good memories that they'd given him.
Would he ever stop crying today? Oh, well. At least his tears were usually limited to holidays and particularly special moments these days, instead of running down his face in a never-ending river like they had this past spring when he'd first heard Jason's vicious accusations of abuse.
"I think a Hanukkah party sounds wonderful, Harley," Bruce managed to choke out.
"Hooray!" Tim and Steph yelled in unison, and even Damian looked rather pleased.
"Do you think we can find mom's menorah in the attic, Alfred?" Bruce asked him.
"I'll come over and help you look for it tomorrow," Dick said immediately.
"Me, too, before our party starts," Jason said, catching Bruce's eyes with his little boy grin. Bruce smiled at his first two sons with gratitude and fondness, thankful once again for their renewed relationship, both with himself and each other.
"I'll pick you up a box of candles tomorrow morning and send it over with Jay," Harley said, giving Bruce an understanding smile.
"Thank you," he said softly. She nodded.
"Thank you, Brucie," Harley said. "For all the hard work you've done on yourself this year. And for caring so much about fixing your family, and welcoming me into it, and fixing things up with Jay-Jay. I ain't never had a good family I could hang out with, especially on holidays, and, well, it's awful nice," she said, dipping her head in some embarrassment.
"And now you have two families," Steph said cheerfully. "'Cause you've got the Suicide Squad, too."
"You're rolling in love," Babs smiled over at Harley.
"You ain't looking so bad over there yourself, soon to be Mrs. Gordon-Grayson-Wayne," Harley giggled.
"I'm not, am I?" Babs grinned up at Dick, before lifting his hand off her shoulder and turning their ring to catch the light while she admired it.
"Can I get you an engagement ring, too?" Dick asked her. "Even though you asked me?"
"Of course," Babs said, her face softening into a sweeter smile. "I'd love to wear your ring."
"I'll love seeing it on you," Dick blushed before commencing another round of newly-engaged kissing with his no-longer-a-girlfriend.
"Our turn for giving the rest of our presents!" Steph announced, getting up and pulling Tim to his feet with her, giving him a smooch, too, before they went digging in the diminishing pile of gifts under the tree.
"Bruce and Bane first," Tim decreed, handing them a long rectangular package. Bruce let Bane unwrap it, and they both laughed with delight at the homemade sign made of tin lightbulb-filled letters spelling out "Bayne Manor," mounted on a piece of wood that the kids had painted black and trimmed with molding.
"I love it," Bane declared, smiling broadly, before turning it over to inspect their wiring handiwork.
"I love it more," Bruce said, leaning in and kissing his husband. "We'll hang this in our bedroom."
"Oh, gross," Steph said, looking horrified. "You will not."
Bruce pouted, but Bane laughed and said, "I think here in the living room, over the mantle, would perhaps be a more appropriate location, mi amor. Since we are all the Bayne family now, yes?"
"All right, fine," Bruce grumbled, but his eyes were twinkling nonetheless.
"Yeah, Pops," Jason teased. "Don't go giving the kids nightmares."
"Me and Jason included," Dick said with a faux-shiver.
"Nightmares about what?" Damian asked innocently. Alfred coughed while Babs and Harley met each other's eyes in mirth.
"Jason taught us how to wire it," Steph said to Bruce, not-so-subtly changing the subject.
"Oh, thank you, son," Bruce said in surprise. "That's a useful skill to acquire."
"Yeah, well," Jason said, "maybe I can convince these two dum-dums to become electricians one day, instead of vigilantes."
"Yeah, that's not gonna happen," Tim grinned at his older brother.
"Big fat Nope," Steph added, sticking her tongue out for good measure.
"Hey, a formerly dead Robin can try," Jason drawled sarcastically, while Harley sighed sympathetically and shook her disapproving head at the kids.
Jason could have said much worse, though, and Bruce deeply appreciated that Jason and Harley both continued to tolerate the Batlings' batting around Gotham, even though the Todd-Hoods didn't condone or encourage it. Hell, Jason could have made a much crueler quip about his death just now, instead of sounding merely resigned and weary - and Bruce wouldn't have blamed his son in the slightest.
It was a lot of generosity on Jason and Harley's part that Bruce knew he didn't deserve. Letting the kids be vigilantes was a thorny, complicated subject - Bruce could admit that, now - but at least it was totally Tim, Steph, and Damian's choice, unlike in Jason's case, and each child clearly understood the risks.
Maybe it made him a bad father that he continued to allow his youngest children to train and patrol under Bane's care, but as he looked around the living room at his family, all joined together for Christmas, Bruce couldn't help but feel that maybe he wasn't doing quite so bad at the whole dad thing anymore, after all.
"Open your present next, Alfred!" Steph said eagerly, rocking side to side on the floor next to Tim in her excitement. Tim had a sassy look on his face, too, like a zinger was about to land. Bruce leaned forward in his seat.
Alfred unwrapped his gift and to Bruce's surprise, began chuckling so heartily that he had to dab a tear from his eyes with his neatly pressed red and green plaid handkerchief.
"Oh, my dears," Alfred chuckled in pleasure, "this truly takes the cake."
"What is it? What is it?" Damian asked, crawling rapidly forward to look with Batsito in hand. Alfred beamed as he turned around the tiny placard painted in beautifully elegant calligraphy that read, "Hands Off Alfred's Knives."
Jason snorted as Dick clasped both hands to his mouth in horror-mingled awe while Bruce's eyes popped out of his head. Harley was outright snickering and Babs quietly giggled along with Bane.
"See, it's got a little stand so you can set it right in front of your knives without it touching them," Steph cheerfully pointed out to Alfred.
"Some of the plaques at the craft store had a chain, but we said, no sir, no chain is going to hang around Alfred's knife handles," Tim explained with dramatic flair.
"Good heavens, I should say not!" Alfred said, looking appalled at the very idea. "You chose very wisely, my dears," he said, looking both relieved and pleased. "And I caution each of you to abide by these words!" Alfred thundered as he looked around the room at his family.
Alfred had in fact gifted each of the children plus Bane and Jason their own set of elite cooking knives within weeks of Bane's arrival and his institution of cooking lessons. The butler's excuse had been that every good chef both possessed and cared for their own knives. It was a valid point, that was true - but Alfred wasn't fooling anyone. His knives were his knives and that was that.
Grandchildren and son-in-law might be much loved and compromise a range of budding and accomplished chefs, but the stress of allowing them to use his knives as they began to cook in his kitchen had quickly grown to be a burden too great to bear for the particular butler. Even Jason's knife set from Alfred hung in the Bayne Manor kitchen next to everyone else's, since that was where Alfred intended for his grandson to use them, rather than allowing him to touch the once-again Completely Sacred Blades.
Jason didn't mind in the slightest, of course. He had gotten Harley their own set of kitchen knives for their apartment almost as soon as he'd moved in, he'd once informed Bruce, since Harley didn't cook and only had the odd butter knife, aside from her throwing knives and other assorted weaponry. Bruce had also learned that Jason was much less fussy over his kitchen knives than his grandfather was over his, although this was a never-to-be-shared-with-Alfred fact.
One day, Bruce had been over at his son and daughter-in-law's apartment when Harley had received a package at the door. ("It's not a bomb, don't worry," Harley had breezily informed Bruce, when he'd been the slightest bit alarmed at the suspiciously hand done packaging. However, true to her word, it was not in fact a bomb. It was rounds of highly illegal specialized ammo. "Better it's with me than on the streets!" Harley had shrugged with a grin. Bruce had resolved then and there to visit Jason and Harley less often.)
Jason, though, had without hesitation thrown the knife that he'd been cutting onions with to his wife, who had snatched it out of the air with remarkable agility and promptly used it to rip open her box of contraband. She had then flung said knife back to her husband, who had neatly caught it and merely rinsed it in the sink before continuing with his meal prep.
But Bruce digressed. Alfred was delighted with his gift, and no one had any further (legitimate) cause to touch his precious kitchen knives. All was well in the world.
"More presents," Steph said cheerfully, interrupting Bruce's meandering thoughts as she handed Jason and Harley each a wrapped package. Jason chuckled when he unwrapped his, and Harley squealed out loud.
"I'm the Chef," Jason read off of his hand-stenciled red apron before holding it up to the family.
"I kiss the Chef," Harley read in delight, showing off her t-shirt, hers white with red stenciled letters and a giant stenciled lipstick kiss.
"We know you don't cook," Steph snickered.
"But she sets a fine table," Jason grinned, wrapping an arm around his wife's waist and kissing her cheek before she turned her face and kissed him full on the lips. "I highly approve of this new kitchen task, though," Jason announced afterwards.
"Me, too," Harley giggled. Tim and Steph grinned happily, pleased that their gifts were well received.
"And these are for you two," Tim said, handing their last two presents to Dick and Babs.
Babs laughed out loud when she unwrapped a blue t-shirt with a gold police commissioner badge stenciled on the upper right pocket. Dick opened his package and found a similar shirt, with his own Bludhaven badge and number on it.
"For casual Fridays or working out," Tim explained.
"I love it," Dick said, and Babs nodded before leaning in and whispering something in his ear that made him blush. Steph screamed in laughter and collapsed on the floor.
"That was not what we were thinking!" she shrieked at Babs while Tim buried his face in his hands and groaned.
"Then I've expanded your mind," Babs said smugly, giving Steph a wink.
"I do not understand," Damian said in confusion while Alfred gently tutted in the background amidst Bane's chuckles.
"Good," Bruce said heartily. "When you're old enough to get it, you have my full permission to attack your sister-in-law with a pillow."
"Thank you, Father!" Damian beamed.
"I guess it's down to your presents and ours," Bruce said, looking over to Jason and Harley.
"You can go first," Jason said.
"Ok," Bruce smiled, standing to pick up a stack of envelopes from under the tree that he began to hand out.
"It better not be money," Steph threatened him. "Nothing against cash in general, but it's lazy and boring for Christmas."
"Yeah," Tim said. "No cash unless it comes straight from a bank vault that Harley just robbed." Harley clapped her hands and giggled while Jason laughed.
"Nice one, Timmers," Jason said, getting a happy smile from the teen.
"It's not cash," Bruce said, his eyes melting into Bane's again as he sat back down next to his husband. Bane automatically curled his arm right back around Bruce's waist and tugged him in close, pressing a kiss to his temple that brought more than a few soft looks from other members of the family.
"You may open yours first, Little Bat," Bane said, smiling at his tiny son. Damian happily peeled back the edge of the envelope. His eyes lit up when he pulled out paintball tickets.
"As promised," Bruce said with a smile. "Harley talked to Deadshot and he's happy to go play paintball while he's in town with Bat-Mite and Batman and Harley and Red Hood."
"Hooray!" Damian exclaimed, in the most exuberant display of enthusiasm that any of the family had ever seen from the boy, who was these days much more cheerful than he used to be, but still often serious. "I have been very eager to meet Deadshot, Father!" Damian said, almost hopping on the floor.
"I know," Bruce groaned.
"Some of the tickets are for that adventure, Little Bat," Bane explained, "and the others are for you to go again as a civilian with your father and Timothy, Stephanie, Richard, and Barbara."
"Oh, cool!" Tim exclaimed. "Thanks, B!"
"Yeah, thanks!" Steph said. "That'll be epic!" She leaned in to look at Damian's envelope. "Are our envelopes empty then, since you put the paintball tickets in Damian's?" she asked Bruce.
"Do I look like the Grinch to you?" Bruce huffed. "Don't answer that," he said, jabbing a playful finger at a smirking Jason. "I'm a billionaire. Of course your envelopes aren't empty. Look and see."
Tim nudged Steph so she'd open hers first, and she squealed over four tickets to the Metropolis Comic-Con - Comic-Cons having naturally been permanently banned in Gotham, due to the alarming ease with which costumed rogues could blend in with the crowds and cause havoc.
"Damian, you and I are going, too," Bruce smiled at his youngest son, who perked up with interest. "But Steph, you and Tim will be free to pair off on your own or individually during the day if you want."
"Thanks so much, B," Steph said. "I've always wanted to go. Ooh!" she burst out. "We can make cosplay costumes!"
"Osito already has his," Damian said happily, admiring the Batsuit that Steph had made for his bear.
"You kids could just wear your patrol uniforms," Dick teased.
"Absolutely not!" Bruce glared at his oldest son.
"You better watch out, Dick," Steph said with a gleam in her eye. "I'll go as Discowing."
"Discowing …?" said Jason in confused horror as Bruce busted out laughing louder than the family had heard in a long time.
"Better you than me," Tim said with a shudder to his girlfriend.
"Hey, I liked the Discowing suit!" Babs protested. "Dick's man-tiddies were on glorious display. It was super sexy, babe," she consoled Dick, who was pouting his lip out, looking woefully wounded.
"So there," Dick said to Steph, sticking his tongue out at her.
"What the fuck is a Discowing?" Jason said. "Explain!"
"Something you should be thankful you were dead for," Tim said, holding his phone out to Jason to show him a photo. Bruce froze as a horrified silence fell on the room at Tim's joke. But surprisingly, Jason began to laugh.
"Oh, my God!" he wheezed as he examined Dick's first, viva-Las-Vegas styled Nightwing costume, resplendent with gold fringe. "You're right, Timmers," he said easily. "You've found the one silver lining to me missing a few years."
Tim grinned, but behind his back, Bruce let out a relieved sigh. Jason caught Bruce's eye and gave him a wry smile that Tim missed as he took his phone back.
"Thank you," Bruce mouthed silently to Jason, who gave him a knowing, tiny head nod while Harley gently rubbed his back.
Bruce would definitely be having a private talk with Tim later about not making casual jokes out of Jason's death. He understood that it was teenaged impulsivity to blurt out thoughts as fast as they popped up in his brain, and it was also an indication of how much closer Tim had become to Jason, that such a joke would even occur to him, but Bruce also knew that Jason was only being kind in not expressing his upset.
Still, Bruce appreciated more than he could express that Jason, too, had grown so much that he would let such a comment slide, and even go so far as to smooth it over to protect Tim's feelings. Jason had truly done a one-eighty in his attitude towards Tim, and honestly, that was the best Christmas gift that Bruce could imagine receiving from his son.
"I have something else in my envelope," Steph said, pulling out a slip of paper. "Oh, sweet!" she said. "It's a coupon for movie night."
"Since I cannot join you all at Comic-Con, I, too, wished to give you a gift that we could enjoy together as a family," Bane said with a warm smile.
Inspired by Harley, Bruce and Bane had taken to instituting family fun nights - some smaller gatherings with only the three children currently under their roof, but also larger ones that the older kids came over for. The choice of activities was always a hotly sought after privilege between Tim, Steph, and Damian. Steph preferred movies, Tim games, and Damian any type of physical competition.
Bruce got a little choked up when Steph came over and wrapped Bane in a big hug that he gratefully returned.
"I wish you could come to Metropolis with us," she said before hugging Bruce, too.
"Ah, well," Bane said. "It is a small price to pay for having such a wonderful family, to remain in the shadows on occasion. And who knows? Perhaps Mr. Alfred and I shall throw a wild party at Bayne Manor in your absence," he teased with a twinkle in his eye. Alfred tittered behind a well-placed hand.
"I got some friends who could help ya with that," Harley grinned, making Bruce groan and Bane chuckle as Alfred huffed, "I must respectfully decline that offer, Mrs. Harley."
"Open your gift next, Tim," Steph prompted after she plopped down next to him on the floor again, leaning her head cozily on his shoulder.
"Opening Day tickets for Gotham Knights baseball!" Tim exclaimed, thrilled over the gift to his favorite sport. "For the whole family, it looks like."
"I know it's a ways off," Bruce said apologetically, "but at least you'll have paintball and Comic-Con in the meantime."
"It's great, Bruce!" Tim said, smiling wide and looking a little emotional as he met his true father's eyes. Bruce had to swallow, because he'd done a damn poor job of being Tim's dad before Bane had come into their lives, but he was determined to make up for it now.
Sure, Bruce had mentored Tim as Batman, and he'd rallied himself to secure permission from the Drakes for Tim to live with him for the rest of high school while they were abroad, but outside of Batman? Prior to Bane's arrival and Harley's interventions, Bruce had never done any fatherly bonding activities with the boy who he very much considered his son.
His Christmas gifts of shared experiences were part of his ongoing efforts to be a better father. By the slightly teary smile on Tim's face, Bruce knew that he'd done well. Steph was still glowing in excitement over Comic-Con and Damian was beaming about paintball, and Bruce's heart was shining as bright as the Christmas tree.
"Now, Batboy," Bane said to Tim with a smile, "although I cannot join you on Opening Day, I believe that it would be most appropriate for Batman and Batboy to patrol the stadium on occasion this year, perhaps with Red Hood and Harley," he said, looking over to the couple, who happily nodded. "And if perhaps we spend the larger part of our patrols secretly observing the game play, so much the better."
"Thanks, Bane!" Tim said, lighting up in true appreciation. "That would be great." He, too, got up and gave Bane a hug. "You'll finally get to see what lesser batboys look like in action," he teased, making his second father laugh heartily.
Even Bruce chuckled, but when Tim hugged him tight and whispered, "I love you," into his ear, Bruce wasn't ashamed to admit that his throat got tight as he hugged his son back a little harder and returned the sentiment.
"You can go next, Alfred," Jason said easily, and Dick nodded.
"Dinners at both Chez Maurice and Lucky Luciano's!" Alfred exclaimed in pleasure upon seeing the gift certificates for Gotham's five-star French and Italian restaurants. "That shall be a treat, Master Bruce," Alfred said fondly. "And perhaps the Hoods and Batman might persuade Maurice and Luciano to serve them dinner on the roof on the nights we dine, so that no one in the family is left out, even if we must be separated and feign ignorance."
"Ha!" Harley said. "That's a great idea, Al! We'll do it," she said, looking over to Bane, who nodded his agreement with a smile.
"Why don't you and Jason open your gift next?" Bruce said, gratitude for his family welling up in his heart. Harley leaned in closer to Jason's shoulder as he opened their envelope, and Bruce got to be staggered once again by Jason's little boy smile bursting out like sunshine through a cloudy sky.
"Knights hockey tickets!" Jason said with a wobbly smile.
Bruce had learned upon adopting Jason that his new son loved hockey with a passion, so Bruce had purchased season tickets and taken Jason to every single Knights home game for the few short years that they'd had together. Dick and Talia hadn't been hockey fans, so it had always been a special father-son outing for Jason and Bruce to enjoy together. "There's only three tickets," Jason said, clearing his throat a little bit and looking at Bruce with mild confusion.
"Since Harley's able to go incognito around town as a brunette without all her jester makeup on, and since no one recognizes you as the former Jason Todd," Bruce said, "I thought if I dressed in disguise we could all sit together. As long as the rest of the family didn't come," he added, realizing that he didn't need to apologize when he saw everyone else's understanding smiles.
"As long as you don't come as Matches Malone," Harley said quickly, wrinkling her nose when she referenced Bruce's undercover underworld persona.
"Not as Matches," Bruce promised with a chuckle.
"Thanks, Pops," Jason said softly, still looking a little choked up. Bruce smiled and nodded, feeling a little misty himself. He leaned gratefully into Bane's comforting arm.
"Now ours," Babs said, taking charge to give the men a minute to compose themselves.
"Ooh, the ballet!" Dick squealed happily. "We haven't been in forever," he said to Bruce. "Not since - dammit," he cut himself off, swallowing hard, and wrapping Babs up in a hug with a kiss to the side of her face.
Not since losing Jim Gordon, Bruce silently filled in the blank. He hadn't known that the ballet-loving couple hadn't been in so long, but it made sense given Babs' run for police commissioner and ensuing busy schedule after her dad's death, not to mention the relationship problems that had plagued her and Dick until several months ago.
"It will be so nice to go again, and with the whole non-identity-compromised family," Babs said bravely, but with sincerity. "Thank you, Bruce," she said. "Have you kids ever been to the ballet?" she asked them with a smile. "You're going to love it," she promised.
"I always liked watching the Nutcracker on PBS every year at Christmas when I was a kid," Steph said. "It'll be awesome to finally see a different show. And I've never seen ballet done live."
"Me, neither," said Tim.
"Nor have I," Damian said. "Nor am I familiar with the Nutcracker," he said.
"Bruce!" Tim exclaimed. "We've been neglecting Damian's cultural education. We should watch it tomorrow, Dami," he said, "since we'll be busy with patrol later tonight." Steph nodded eagerly.
"You'll love it, Damian," she said. "There's sword-fighting mice." Damian perked up.
"That sounds most enjoyable," he said, glancing down at Osito with a sly smile that Bruce just knew was for his teddy bear's hidden shiv. Bane must have had the same thought, judging from his husband's quiet chuckle.
"Watching the Nutcracker tomorrow sounds like a good plan," Bruce said approvingly. "And we'll have another opportunity to watch the ballet at home together, too," he said.
"Ah, yes," Bane said. "Apparently they livestream the Metropolis ballet on occasion these days, so we shall have an at-home ballet night at some point in the future, so that we may all enjoy the ballet together as a complete family."
"This is gonna be a fun year," Steph said happily. "You guys came up with really good presents," she said to Bruce and Bane, sounding duly impressed.
"And you thought billionaires only gave cash," Bruce playfully scoffed.
"Or empty envelopes," Tim added, giggling into Steph's cheek.
"I'm glad I was wrong," Steph laughed.
"We still have to open our gifts from baba and Malika Harley," Damian pointed out.
"Indeed you do," Jason said cheerfully, getting up with his wife to begin distributing their gifts. Bruce noted that many of the packages were similarly bulky and wondered what on earth his son and daughter-in-law had come up with for the family.
"Banebane, open yours first!" Harley declared, wiggling in excitement as soon as she and Jason were reseated and clapping her hands. Bane tore off the wrapping paper and held up a chunky, tightknit black vest, with the Hoods' now signature red bat and blue queen's crown on the front.
"It's thermal wear for patrols," Jason said, grinning. "We know it gets damn cold this time of year, even under the armor."
"It's specially designed tech to hold in extra body heat," Harley said, "and it's bulletproof too."
"And blade resistant?" Damian asked, curiously inspecting the close weave and extra strong fibers of his papi's gift.
"Yep," Jason said. "We kept it sleeveless so it wouldn't reduce your mobility for fighting, though, and it's long enough you can strap your BatBelts over it. Open yours next, habibi, and you, too, kids," he said to Tim and Steph. Red, purple, and royal blue thermal wear was revealed, each with the crowned bat logo, although Tim's bat was outlined in black to show up against his Robin colors.
"Thanks, guys!" Steph said with a huge smile. "I was already getting shivers on the ride over here thinking about how cold it was gonna be out there on patrol tonight."
"Well, if we can't convince you munchkins to stay safe and warm and toasty at home in your beds like you ought to, at least you can be warm out there, and safer, too," Harley said ruefully.
"We appreciate it," Tim said, getting up to join Damian and Steph in hugging their brother and sister-in-law.
"Yes, that was very thoughtful," Bruce said approvingly.
"Mine's the same?" Dick asked, beginning to tear open his package. "Thanks, guys," he said, pulling out the Nightwing blue vest. He coughed. "Now maybe I feel a little bad about giving you the angel," he blushed.
"Oh, I got you another present, Dickie, don't you worry," Jason said, pulling out an arm-lengthened gift from behind his back and flinging it across the room into Dick's face.
"Dude!" Dick spluttered. He quickly ripped off the paper. Next to him, Babs burst out laughing. A giant penis-shaped pillow was immediately thrown straight back into Jason's chortling face.
"What?" Jason said innocently, tossing it back. "It looks just like you!" he teased.
"PG comments only!" Bruce thundered as Babs opened her mouth. She groaned and flopped backwards on the couch.
"Seriously, Babs," Harley snickered. "You start making comparisons and these two are gonna be stripping before ya know it."
"Yeah, yeah," Babs grinned. "Well. I like it, anyway, babe," she said to Dick. "Shut up!" she immediately scolded Jason with a laugh. "I know where you're going with that insult and you'd better not!" she playfully threatened.
"Children are present!" Bruce said with a groan, although he was half-chuckling against his will. "Next year's Christmas rule is PG only presents," he stressed.
"It is PG," Jason insisted. "It's a pillow of Dick's face."
"I'm opening my gift now," Babs loudly announced while Dick stuck his tongue out at his brother. "Oh, nice," she said, pulling out a regular sweater made from black wool with the red and blue Batlogo worked into the front. "Thank you, guys," she said.
"It gets chilly down in the BatCave," Harley grinned. "And I know you're hanging out there more these days."
"Yes, she is," Bruce said warmly, smiling at Babs.
"To our great delight," Alfred added as Babs smiled back at him and Bruce.
"Mine, too," she said.
"Open yours," Harley gestured to Bruce and Alfred, whose gifts revealed similar black sweaters in their sizes.
"Did you get yourselves each a vest, too?" Tim asked Harley and Jason curiously.
"Of course we did," Harley beamed.
"We're a family," Jason said. A cozy silence fell as Jason's words hung in the air. Bruce and Jason met each other's eyes. It had taken a lot of pain to get here, Bruce thought, but tonight? He could only see the love and forgiveness shining out of his son's eyes.
"I love each and every one of you," Bruce said from the bottom of his heart.
"We love you, too, B," Steph said immediately, echoed by everyone else in the family.
But it was Jason's quietly mouthed "love you, Pops," that Bruce heard the loudest.
Later that night on patrol, Bat-Mite squinted his eyes.
"Batman," he said to the hulking shadowy figure at his side. "Were not the backs of Red Robin and Batgirl's thermal vests unpatterned earlier?" The tiny vigilante pointed to where Tim and Steph were standing on the edge of the roof, backs to Batman and Bat-Mite.
Bane tipped his head to the side and began to chuckle. On the back of each vest, prominently featured glow-in-the-dark letters had appeared.
"It is on yours, as well," Bane said, taking a step back to regard Bat-Mite's vest
"And yours," Damian confirmed, circling Batman.
"On all of them, I presume," Bane rumbled, his laughter growing. He wondered how long it would take before his Bruce discovered Harley and Jason's latest atrocity. The BatCave was usually well-lit, after all. Hm. Perhaps it would be amusing to -
"Shall we wait and see how long it takes the others to discover the hidden message?" his Little Bat asked, breathless with childlike excitement.
"That would be most enjoyable," Bane agreed. Bat-Mite giggled, and the sound washed through Bane's heart, sweeping away old debris of a childhood lost with the surging power of a childhood being recovered.
Perhaps they were all a little loco, but they were a family - and now, they were his. Ahead of them, Batgirl leaned into Batboy's shoulder, oblivious to the words painted on their backs glowing brighter than the Wayne Manor Christmas Tree.
The phrase did have a certain charming lilt, Bane had to admit, although he suspected that his Bruce might not be as amused as Bane found himself at being labeled -
The Batshit Crazy Batfamily.
The End
A/N - OMG! I can't believe I'm finally done with this massive beast. I had no idea when I started Red, White, and Harley that this story would spiral into something so enormous, but I'm so glad I wrote it - and even happier that it's finally, finally FINISHED!
If you made it all the way to the end, I'd love to hear from you in the comments! Thanks so much for reading. Hope you all enjoyed.
You can follow me on Tumblr as River9Noble. Come say hi!