FAULT

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Bruce Wayne was in his office. He had spent the whole night there practically — just going out to change and eat something at Alfred's insistence. In the morning, he was already confronted with the harsh reality stated by Pennyworth:

— It's only a matter of time before he recovers, staying that way doesn't change the facts.

— It's my fault, Alfred...

— Master Bruce... — the butler asked again, placing the breakfast tray in front of him.

— The fault is mine! — He rested his face on his hands — While my son was dying where I was!?

— Saving the world with the Justice League, I assume.

— The Justice League manages to save the world without me, Damian needed help! It was days, Alfred! Days until I accepted the idea that my son desappears and that something bad could happen to him! — He got up, he was too angry and didn't want coffee stains on the floor.

— He often "disappears". Nobody would expect the worst, especially in relation to Master Damian — Alfred tried to mitigate, but he also felt guilty.

— What kind of father am I, Alfred!? What am I doing with my own son's life!? From my kids!?

— You're giving them a chance.

— ... They don't need a chance, they need a father! — Bruce sighed, thinking of all the neglect with which he had raised his "children".

— And you are their father!

— I'm a bad father, Alfred, and I don't know how to become a better one! — He pointed, disappointed with himself — Last night I was away while my son was having a panic attack. I've been gone for most of his life, I've been gone when Dick needed me, Jason, Tim...

Before the butler managed to say anything to get the boss out of that state of mourning — which always tends to go from bad to worse — knocking on the door kept them both silent. It was not common for younger people to warn before entering since, normally, when they needed to enter there it was for an important reason.

— In between! — Wayne authorized, letting out a smile when the door was opened:

Dick was carrying Damian on his back, it was one of the best ways he had found carrying the youngest without causing discomfort due to the cast on his leg.

— How are you feeling today, Master Damian? — Alfred asked.

— Much better, thank you! — the boy replied with a friendly smile.

— I don't think I'll ever get used to you saying "thank you" — Bruce commented with an air of hope about good manners persisting, even after the memories are recovered. Carefully, he helped Dick to put the youngest seated in the same chair he had been sitting on before.

— Hey, Damian, why don't you tell your dad why you're not using the crutches? — Dick encouraged. He smirked, indicating that there was something behind a simple request.

— Because I'm too short to use those. — As asked, the boy replied. Everyone was silent and he was already beginning to think he had said something wrong. He tried to hide his face, shy, mainly because he had everyone's eyes on him, everyone was still "strangers".

— I know the kid saying this is a reality shock, but we need to take advantage of it before he gets back to normal! — Dick ruffled his hair carefully, he knew that the wound on Damian's stiff head was already healed, but it was almost instinctive to be careful with that region.

— He's not that short, he's a child yet... — Bruce tried to soften, which didn't take away from the fun of it all.

— Actually, he is already considered a teenager — Alfred corrected him, clearly remembering how much Damian insisted on the title.

— And how old am I? — the youngest asked without understanding all that conversation. In part, this lack of understanding was exacerbated by a constant ringing in the left ear.

— You have...

— Just a moment! — Dick interrupted the butler before he could answer — Damian made a list of important questions and wants B to answer them.

— And the first is your age, correct? — He looked at his son, unable to contain a smug smile.

The boy smiled and said, immediately:

— My brother was right, you are good at guessing things!

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NOTE

Alfred refers to "disappearing frequently" because Damian tends to make his tantrums disappear by any means of communication and / or location. (Detective Comics, 1003 if I'm not mistaken / spent the entire summer vacation missing in the Super Sons special).

Bruce may seem a little too dramatic, but he tends to get a little "out of control" every time he loses one of his children. Couple that with his strenuous relationship with Catwoman (Batman number 44 onwards, Rebirth. She didn't show up at the wedding) and we will have an almost murderous Batman and a dramatic Bruce.