There was something oddly satisfying for Bruce coming through The Manor doors to be greeted by the sounds of his children. An ever-present reminder of the good life he had and what he fought for as Batman. But as he hung up his coat, he had a distinct feeling that something was off.
He stood still, trying to listen for what it could be, only to realize that he didn't hear anything at all. No laughter. No conversations. Not even the tense tones of an argument. That was odd.
Bruce began a mental roll call. It was 5 in the afternoon. All of his children would be out of school by now, even if anyone had detention. It was Friday which eliminated Cassandra's dance lessons but did imply that Alfred would be out grocery shopping.
He did not remember approving any trips to other cities to hang out. He should have had a house full of lively children given all this. Bruce began carefully wandering the halls. His face deadpanned as he stood in the doorway of the living room.
Here were all his children, spread out among the furniture, all absorbed in the screens of their separate devices and utterly unaware of his presence.
When had this happened? Bruce remembered that not so long ago, he would be greeted at the door by one of his children yelling 'Daddy's home!' and a swarm of hugs and eager anecdotes of their days. This was a far cry from those days.
Bruce whisked through the room, snatching phones and tablets and slamming laptops shut, finally gaining everyone's attention. "What gives Old Man?" Jason snapped, and Bruce narrowed his glair. "He means, hey Bruce. When did you get home?" Dick corrected pleasantly. This, however, did not diffuse the tension.
"I did not buy you these so you could all ignore each other. You used to play with each other, but I can't remember the last time that happened. Well, it's going to happen this weekend. These are all going into my office safe and for the next 48 hours, and you all are going to unplug."
Bruce stormed out, the sounds of his disgruntled children at his back. They'd thank him someday.
Jason glanced over his shoulder for what must have been the hundredth time since leaving his room five minutes earlier. It had only been 18 hours since he'd been able to zone out into a screen, and it was killing him.
He'd never realized how annoying his siblings were without his noise-canceling headphones. And on top of that, they were everywhere! For bat shit sake, why how was it so hard to find a deserted part of The Manor?
Luckily the grounds were expansive, and there was a long-forgotten corner where no one would think to look for him. Jason let out a huff as he pulled himself into his and Dick's old tree fort. He sank contentedly into the kid-sized beanbag chair and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
Bruce would be far from pleased, and Alfred would revolt, but if they expected him to play nice with his siblings for the weekend, this smoke break was a must. No sooner than he'd taken a draw, Jason heard a voice coming from the patio.
"I swear Grayson. Todd came out here, and he looked more suspicious than usual." Damian was saying. Jason swore under his breath. He knew he'd felt eyes on him. He crawled over to the window and peeked out. Maybe they'd go away.
"Maybe he is taking a walk." Cass suggested. "Or you're letting your boredom get the best of you." Tim added, rolling his eyes. "Come on guys. Jason has a right to some alone time. He'll come in when he's ready." Dick reasoned and began to lead them all inside.
Jason sighed as he resituated himself back in his spot. That had been close. For a second, he could have sworn Dick was squinting up at his hiding place, but he was probably just being paranoid.
"Ah-ha!" Dick suddenly yelled as he popped through the doorway. Jason slammed himself against the back wall of the treehouse, calculating his odds of escape if he dived out the window and booked it through the woods.
But it was too late for that, as his younger siblings climbed into the tiny room. There was no way he could ditch all of them. "Told you." Damian smirked, smugly elbowing Tim in the side. Dick ignored their back and forth muttering and stalked up to Jason.
"Hand them over." Dick ordered, sticking his hand out for the rest of the cigarettes. Dick was no longer bigger than his younger brother. He doubted if he was even still stronger. But regardless of physical ability, Jason knew better than to try and argue with Dick when he mimicked their father's serious face and stern tone.
"Honestly," Dick stared as he shoved the box into his pocket. "You should be glad it wasn't Bruce who caught you. Or worse Alfred. And if I catch you with these again, I'm gonna stick a toilet brush down your throat and scrub out your lungs."
"Fine. Geeze. You won't catch me again." Jason muttered. "I mean really Jay. Here of all places? I thought you had some reverence."
"Come on, Grayson, it is just a treehouse." Damian interrupted. Dick turned to him with a slight hurt in his eyes. "It is not just a treehouse." He declared. "This was, is, Robin's Nest."
Bruce ensured that the last of the Justice League had disappeared through the Zata Tube before looking up to the loft of The Cave.
"Dick?" he called and watched as a little head of black hair peeked over the banister. Bruce motioned for the boy to come stand in front of him, and Dick obeyed. "Were you up there the whole time?" Bruce asked, and Dick nodded. "What have we said about eavesdropping? Especially on Justice League business?"
"Not supposed to, but I didn't mean to. I was up there when everyone got here, and I didn't want to interrupt." The nine-year-old explained quickly. "And just what were you doing down here?" Bruce asked.
Dick's face lit up as he grabbed his mentor's hand and dragged him to the loft. Bruce stopped short at the sight of Dick's many toy cars and building toys scatted across the floor. "Dick, what is all this?" He sighed.
"I was making plans for how to stop all the bad guys." The boy said proudly, and he gathered up the pieces of paper strung about. "See? I drew it all out!" He said, excitedly shoving the papers into Bruce's hands.
"Dick," The older hero sighed. "You have a whole playroom for your toys. You're not supposed to bring them to The Cave." "But this was Batman and Robin stuff." Dick insisted. "I was just trying to help."
Bruce stooped to one knee so he was at eye level with his boy. "I'm glad you wanna help, and it's good that you were laying out strategies but no more toys in The Cave. Alright?" Dick nodded disappointedly and let Bruce help him pick everything up.
III
"Alfred, have you seen Dick?" Bruce asked the following afternoon. He still felt bad for dismissing the boy's effort to contribute the day before and wanted to ensure there were no hard feelings.
"The young master seems to be occupied at the moment, Sir." Alfred replied, motioning for Bruce to come look out the back patio doors. In the middle of the yard, there stood a tent or, more accurately, a blanket fort. Bruce ventured out and stood at what he assumed was the door.
"Dick?" he called, attempting to pull back the flap. "Nah uh." came a tempered voice. "Batman's not allowed." Bruce dragged a hand through his hair as he sat down in front of the fort. "Come on Dickie. Can we talk?" He pleaded. He heard what sounded like the shake of ahead. "No. I'm busy with Robin stuff in here."
Bruce picked at the grass thoughtfully for a moment. "You know I looked over your plans, and they were pretty good." He said finally. Dick didn't respond, but he kept going. "I'm sorry I brushed you off yesterday. I know you were trying to help." Dick peaked his head out from the fort.
"You know what?" Bruce continued. "Maybe Robin could use a hideout. So you can do all your planning." "You mean it?" Dick asked, eyes wide. Bruce nodded. Dick crawled the rest of the way out of his tent and sat in front of Bruce. "Can I help design it?"
"It only makes sense." the older hero smiled, and his protege beamed back at him.
III
Within a week, Bruce had hired a woodworker to build and install Dick's new tree fort on the edge of the woods. Hidden in the branches as any good secret base should be.
"Bruce look!" Dick yelled as he launched himself from the front door to the nearest branch, did a triple summersault in the air, and landed in his father's waiting arms. "It's perfect." Dick said softly, hugging Bruce around the neck. Bruce hugged his boy close. "Only the best for my Robin's nest." He smiled.
"I spent every warm day in here." Dick reminisced, running his hand along the section of the wall where he'd carved out his initials.
Jason crouched down to stare admiringly at his own etched-out initials next to his brother's. "You brought me up here the day after my first patrol. Gave me my initiation as Robin." He smiled softly.
"How come you guys never brought me up here?" Tim asked, trying not to sound offended. Dick scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "After Jason's… incident, there was just so much going on. I guess it just slipped my mind." Jason jumped to his feet and offered Dick a hand up.
"You know what? I say it's time you take the test, Timmy. You too Babybat. You guys Robin enough?" The younger boys merely grinned back.
Two triple summersaults later, the last two Robins were finally initiated and granted full access to Robin's Nest. Cassandra even got honorary Robin status for performing her own version of their initiation stunt.
III
As the late afternoon sun hung lazily in the sky, Bruce stood at the back doors of The Manor looking out over the lawn. Even without their screens, he hadn't seen or heard any of his children since breakfast. After searching all their usual secret hiding places, Bruce was ready to scour the expanses of the property.
He spotted Cassandra at the edge of the woods, swinging gently from Dick's old swing. "Need a push?" He asked as he came over, and his daughter nodded. "Any clue on where your brothers are?" He asked to which Cass pointed upward.
Bruce smiled to himself as he reached the top of the treehouse ladder. Damian and Jason sat across from each other on one side of the room, focused on an intense-looking game of chess.
Tim sat close by, half-reading a book half watching their game. Meanwhile, Dick lay on his stomach near the window, casually doodling a picture to add to the walls with a handful of crayons he'd found in a corner.
"Any chance I can finally come in?" He asked, and his sons held a silent counsel for a moment before sharing a simultaneous nod. "Come on in." Dick welcomed. After all, without Batman, there would be no Robins.
