Original Idea: I wanted to de-age everyone, and give them an option at the end. After all, they all have had some pretty crapy lives. Warning: Jason has a potty mouth.
Children Again
1
Batman raced across the rooftops, praying he'd make it there in time. Faust sore up and down the river Sixt he'd destroy everything he held dear. He swore he'd take away his pride and joy, his sun and moon. The only lights in his life.
The mad magician was partway through the spell he was working on when his fist clashed with teeth, causing the spell in question to go wrong. Thankfully he had Zatanna for backup. She managed to alter the spell before it could do any damage to any of them, but once she was done, she collapsed on the ground, mumbling over and over again. Batman was too busy tying Faust up to hear what she had to say for a while. When he made it to her side, he finally made out the words.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Bruce. I couldn't… I couldn't stop it. I'm sorry."
Quickly he had gripped her shoulders, trying to snap her out of it. He was certain they averted the deathly spell, hadn't they? "Zatanna, what happened?"
She gave him a weak look, one begging for forgiveness. She wanted so much to make him happy, but now she felt she made him miserable. "I'm sorry. I couldn't save them."
That was all she had to say to send fear into his soul. He remembered Faust's cryptic wording. Them. Instantly he was on his feet, dropping an emergency beacon to the JLI at Zatanna's feet before running out of the misused magic shop and sending a grapple to the neighboring rooftop. Finding his car would take too long and he knew if he tried sitting down then he'd likely not get back up.
One hand went to the side of his cowl, pressing hard on his personal communicator. "Oracle! Role call!"
"Nice to hear you too Bruce," came Barbara's quick remark. He heard her typing on the other end. "The birds are in Quantico, just so you know. Special mission. Black Bat's still in Hong Kong. Batgirl's doing undercover work at a strip bar –she's demanding therapy after this one. Big and Little D are over at the East Side Pier tracking down the drug cartel there. And last I heard Red Robin's staying in to catch up on some homework. Batwoman's not reporting to me and Flamebird's still retired."
"Have everyone call in," Batman ordered, heading towards the pier as fast as his legs could carry him. "Trace their signals. Find out where everyone is right this moment! And check on Jim, Alfred and Leslie."
"Wha… Bruce what's going on?" Confusion and some amount of panic entered the hacker's voice.
"Faust cast a spell," he explained as he topped another building. "Zatanna made it go awry after I punched him. He's after people important to me. My 'lights'."
"Oh crap. Robins." The dread in her voice made it clear she put everything together. They may not always believe in magic, but they didn't doubt the intent behind spells when they were used by maniacs. Barbara's hurried typing was even more than he expected. "Robin and Dick's still at the pier, but Tim's with them. They're not answering their coms. I'll keep working on Steph. Your ETA?"
"Ten minutes." If anything, his pace quickened. When he heard Faust's words and 'them', he thought of everyone, not just his Robins. Barbara, Cassandra, Helena, even the Kanes were important to him. Selina had a magical cat amulet to protect her, so there was nothing to worry him about her and magic. Jim and Alfred, if he didn't have them in the beginning, no Robin would have worked with him. Hell, even he wouldn't work with himself! And Leslie, his near mother figure, he couldn't bare to lose her too.
But most devastating would be losing his sons.
Five minutes passed before Barbara confirmed his latest fears. "Steph's fine. Nearly broke a groper's hand though. Boys still aren't responding. Dinah's reported in on their situation, and though it's nasty, no magic's going on around them. Dad's good too and Alfred's prepping medical with Leslie in the cave. Apparently they were having tea."
"Cassandra?"
"Working on it. China's usually out of my comfort zone." He heard more typing, giving him time to think about what Dick and Damian were working on. It was going to be their last mission together before his eldest returned to being Nightwing. Talia's latest stunt made the two running around alone too dangerous in Bruce's eyes. He was not losing any of his sons again.
Why would they call in Tim for a drug bust? The two youngest still didn't get along, but behaved for Dick and Bruce's sakes when they were around. But for Tim to go out into Gotham when he was trying to get back into school routines was odd. Something more must have happened for Dick to call him in.
He pushed the thought aside as he topped another building, getting warmer as he reached his goal.
"Cass is fine," Barbara reported at last. "Bit groggy 'cause I woke her, but fine all the same. Kanes are busy at a dinner. Still no word on the boys."
"How close am I to their location?" He made it to the pier, but the rows upon rows of abandoned warehouses unnerved him. Which one were they in?
"Not far." Oracle kept her voice level, but he knew she was worried. Tim was like a kid brother to her, and Damian the annoying one she rather ignore and let another take care of. Dick though, he was special to her. Everyone knew it. She still had the ring after all, and he always came when she called. Him not responding to her was the same as… well, any of them not responding to Bruce. It just didn't happen unless something bad had occurred. "Two buildings south, one west, second floor, third window in."
"Security?"
"None I can find. Really low tech there." She continued to type on the other end. "Four heat signatures in the room, none else in the building. So three KOs and a watchdog?"
"Bane?" All the crazies were accounted for just two hours ago. It'd take six for even Joker to lay a good trap for his boys.
"Still in Santa Prisca." There was a pause on the other end. "Um, none of them are moving. Not even a little."
"Doesn't matter," Batman was nearly there. He saw the window and launched a grapple to guide him through while finally signaling for the car to arrive. Three knockouts, he was going to need it. "Make sure the JLI gets their prisoner and Zatanna. I'll have questions later."
"Roger."
Without another thought, Batman swung down into the room in question, falling into a roll to protect himself from the shattering glass and wood around him. In seconds he was on his feet, ready to knock down whatever watchdog was waiting for him.
But there wasn't one. True there were four people there, but all were laying on the ground. All were in costume.
And all of them had shrunk.
Batman eased out of his fighting stance as he looked about the room, not certain if he should believe his eyes. That is, until he heard wailing from a bundle of clothes to the side of him. That's when it really hit him, that this really happened.
On the ground surrounding the dark knight were all four of his boys, and once again they were boys. A young teenager laid in an oversized Batman uniform, head almost face down on the floor, his body spread eagle. Possibly a ten year old slumped against the far wall, his red helmet and biker jacket barely staying on his body. The elementary school boy was on his side, almost cowering in the Red Robin cowl. All three were unconscious, completely unaware of the baby's wails in the Robin uniform.
Batman took careful strides over to the bundle on the ground, shaking off all the remaining glass and wood fragments off his person before kneeling down next to it. Carefully he lifted parts of the cloth surrounding the babe within, trying to find its face. Within minutes he uncovered the crying infant, probably no older than six months. He stared down at the baby boy in front of him, not entirely sure what to do.
"Damian?"
2
After all the kidnappings and children recoveries Batman's done during his career, he found it prudent to have a car seat in the batmobiles. Others may laugh, but it never hurt to be prepared. Right then he wished he had two.
Baby Damian wouldn't stop crying, and the other three wouldn't wake up. When Dick, Tim and… Jason… learned to sleep like lumps he'd never know. All were fairly light sleepers last he knew, but not a single one stirred when he picked them up and buckled them into the car. Frankly he wasn't comfortable with having a tiny six year old outside of a booster seat at the least, but he had no choice. It was this or have Tim sitting on his lap in his oversized costume.
And frankly that wasn't going to happen.
"They're kids?" Oracle asked on the other end, completely baffled.
Batman nodded, securing Dick in shotgun before lodging himself behind the wheel. "Apparently. Get Zee to find out what happened. Once they're secure, I'll talk to her myself."
"Think you've got enough diapers in the manor Bruce?"
The man took a deep breath. He hadn't yet thought about the immediate consequences. All he was thinking about at the moment was how to get these four out of harms way. Besides being kids, they were all in body armor too big for them. Damian was a baby. Tim was six, maybe seven. Jason looked half starved, like when he first appeared before him. And Dick, well he simply was out cold. Even at thirteen-fourteen the kid could do a lot of damage. Getting them to safety was his first priority.
Diapers and kid sized clothes were next.
"Tell Leslie to pick some up. None of them look injured. I don't have any children's clothes that'll fit half of them either."
"Oh, so the man prepared for a zombie apocalypse has nothing for a toddler does he?" Bruce scowled mentally at the woman on the other end. It was Dick who insisted they be prepared for one, especially after that Black Lantern fiasco when he was trapped going through time.
"Fine, I'll call her."
"No need Bruce," a pleasant elderly woman's voice stated calmly. "I've heard everything. Are they really alright?"
"They've been deaged," Bruce reminded them. "By ten years if I know right. We're lucky Damian didn't turn into an embryo."
"No injuries?" Leslie repeated.
"None I can see. You can examine them when they get back. But I really don't think Alfred wants to clean excrement from Robin's uniform." He gave his one biological son a cautious look. Damian just kept on crying, oblivious to everyone else around him. And the others were giving him the same treatment.
"Sir," Alfred joined in, "can you give a rough estimate of how old the younger two are?"
"Does it make that big a difference?" The dark knight spared the wheel a hand to rub his oncoming headache. He was recovering from his earlier panic of the boys being in danger and the kid just kept on crying! Why couldn't he be dead asleep like his brothers?
He stopped at this thought, having to remind himself that they weren't really brothers. In name, yes, he adopted each of them. But in blood, none were related. Maybe that made a difference this time around. Damian was his literal son, so the spell must have done something more to him. Faust had that sick of a mind.
But he loved each of them as his own flesh and blood. Yes Jason had gone down a dark path, but Bruce wasn't there for him when he came back from the dead. If he was, he would have done everything in his power to help him regain his life. Dick and Tim were very dear to him too, both preserving his sanity during his darkest hours. He trusted the two of them with everything, their brothers most of all.
But right then and there, he had three highly trained combatants who were out cold and one who was forced into an infant body. Who knew what effect it had on their minds. He took a deep breath as he heard Alfred give a soft chuckle.
"Indeed it does sir."
He took another breath before answering. "Tim looks like he's six. Barely past three feet. Damian's about thirty pounds, sixteen inches, possibly six months, maybe less."
"And the other two?" Leslie asked quickly.
He sighed. "Dick looks like he's thirteen, maybe fourteen. And… Jason's about ten. Damian's clothes should fit them both. They're about the same sizes."
"Master Jason was with them?" Alfred's voice had some strangled hope in it, worrying Bruce.
"Yes, he was." He glanced at the mirror to Jason behind him. The helmet was difficult to take off, but necessary. For once since his return to their lives, the boy seemed at peace. He slept as if nothing else mattered in this world. Being there, was natural, normal. Right.
"I'll find out why when they wake up," he said at last. He only prayed their mental states didn't match their physical.
"Understood," Alfred finished, though there was still some endearment in this voice. "I will prepare their rooms without—"
"Put them in the same room," Bruce finished.
"Sir?"
"We'll know when they wake up," he explained quickly. "And the hunt for them will end faster if they're together. Set up a temporary crib for Damian too. We'll keep him away from them for the moment." The baby really needed to sleep. Bruce's headache was only getting worse. Oh he only prayed this wasn't permanent.
Once in the cave, Batman let go of the wheel and pulled off the cowl to rub his eyes tiredly. His headache wasn't going away. Damian kept crying loudly. It was amazing the kid who usually spoke in undertones around him had such strong vocal cords. Well, he was healthy at the least. A healthy crying baby who should have been ten.
He glanced back to the others. Not a single one of his first three Robins stirred the entire way home. Jason was drooling, leaning against the car seat next to him. Dick's head rested on the window, his mouth going on without a sound. Tim looked like he was sitting in a meeting chair and couldn't wake up. If the belt wasn't there, he surely would have topped out of his seat. Bruce propped Dick away from the glass before sighing heavily and forcing the sliding top forward so they could exit.
Within seconds of opening he was blinded by a flash. Bruce winced then glared over to Alfred and his offending camera. The amused smirk on the old butler's face did not go unnoticed. "For my private collection sir."
Bruce just huffed out in frustration before getting out of the car to start extracting his boys. Alfred would be enjoying this. They didn't have a single photograph of Tim or Jason growing up before they became Robin. And it was a belief among them there were no baby pictures of Damian, period. Clark told him once that grandparents liked to take pictures of their kids and grandkids interacting. His mother had apparently taken quite a few when Conner was temporarily deaged and Chris was around. Alfred was as close to a grandfather to them as anyone could get.
To amuse his greatest ally and father figure, Bruce let Alfred take a snapshot of each of the boys in the car before taking them out, one at a time. As he did so, he striped each of them to their shirts and shorts, if they would stay on.
Dick was much lighter once the cape was off and automatically his arms wrapped around Bruce's neck for extra security as he was taken to one of the medical beds. There was a snapshot taken before he walked three steps and another taken at his back after ten.
Tim was next and one of his hands grabbed his shirt as he snuggled into Bruce's arms. Only one flash took place for the two of them as the boy was being cradled rather than hugged while being carried.
Jason came third and his arms were limp at his sides as Bruce half cradled him, half hugged him to handle his size. Though his arms did nothing, the boy's head nuzzled deeply into his shoulder, his mouth still hanging open. Three snapshots were taken.
With the big ones on medical beds, Bruce finally gained the courage to take the still crying infant from this car seat. The buckles of this one were specially designed so he could easily work them, but the bundle still wrapped in his cloak kept squirming and crying, making everything difficult. He tried not to growl as Alfred took picture after picture of him taking Damian out of the infernal contraption. As revenge, Bruce flung Robin's tunic at his butler before cradling his son in his arms and rocking him. Still the babe cried, but not as loudly. A tiny fist grabbed his shirt as tight as he could, making the father even more worried about what was really going on in this babe's mind.
Another photo was taken before he managed a glare in Alfred's general direction. "Please stop that. I have a bad enough headache already."
"Ah," the butler noted with some amusement, "the great Batman can take on psychotic villains, super powered aliens, and bone crushing, blood spilling attacks with ease, but when faced with one wailing child, he complains about a headache. Dually noted sir."
Thankfully the old man put his camera in his pocket, amusement still alight on his face. As Bruce paced the cave, bouncing the babe a bit in hopes of calming his cries, Alfred picked up each spare article of clothing and protection. His eye remained on his charge and the baby, trying hard to conceal his mirth and joy at the sight. Despite being the Batman, the most feared of the Justice League and superhero community in general, he always had a soft spot for children. Why else would he have taken in an eight year old Dick Grayson all those years ago?
The man's instincts as a father came out daily since that boy had entered their lives. Yes, Bruce had failed as a father many times, but he always learned from his mistakes and tried to make up for it. Sometimes he learned his lesson for the next one's sake, and other times he managed to fix what was done to the boy in question instead. But right then he was dealing with something he never had to do before: care for his own infant.
Alfred shook his head in good humor as he carried the Batman and Robin uniforms towards the caves private laundry area. Each of the Robins was old enough to walk and talk before they met Bruce. They were all potty trained, knew how to read and write, they even dressed themselves. Only when Richard was being particularly difficult did they ever have to baby him. He remembered very well when Bruce tried to bathe him once. It turned into a near death by soap battle between the two. Didn't help the boy was still recovering from Scarecrow's gas and had a cold. Actually, that was the only reason Bruce ever bathed him, if he couldn't really do it himself.
"Alfred." Bruce's voice was nearly a panicked whine. Damian still wasn't quieting down. As the butler looked back to them, carrying the second load of Red Robin and Red Hood's uniforms, he noted the desperate pleading look in the man's face. He was truly at a loss of what to do.
"Try singing to him," the butler suggested, keeping his voice level. It was just too amusing.
"Sing?"
"Children love to hear their parents' voices," Alfred reminded him as he tucked the last uniform away for cleaning and repair later. "It calms them in most cases and as I recall, you have quite a good singing voice."
Still coddling his son, Bruce ran the options through his head. He looked back and forth between the butler and the babe before answering. "Sing what? I don't—"
"Your father used to sing 'Ba Ba Black Sheep'," He said quietly. "And I believe your mother favored 'Hush Little Baby'. I sang 'Lil' Jackie Rabbit' among others. What matters more is the tone of your voice rather than what is said. Keep it calm and soothing and you'll do fine."
Bruce stared wide eyed at the man for a moment before going back to pacing the floor and rubbing the baby's back. Before Alfred could give an exasperated sigh, he heard the delicate notes to 'Ba Ba Black Sheep' coming from the detective's mouth. The older man smiled a bit before going back to the three others to check on their physical condition.
Truth be told, other than the three lads being unconscious and ten years younger than they should be, they were relatively unharmed. Relatively because old bruises and cuts from the past two weeks were still there. Thankfully Timothy and Richard had let their bones heal properly since their last breaking. The worst damage to either of them at the moment was the elder's knuckles from when he punched a wall on accident the previous night. Jason though, now under examination, had sprained his left ankle recently, cracked a few ribs, and had a gash down one arm, healing a little. And he looked like he missed far too many meals. Just what was this boy doing besides scaring the street punks of Gotham away from school yards and shooting those who annoyed him?
Thinking on that, Alfred sought out the guns the young man normally used. They weren't with the clothes Batman had stripped off of them, so they were either in the car or at the crime scene. Quickly he checked the car and found both of them, plus each of the boy's utility belts tucked into the trunk. The butler gave a sigh of relief before gathering all the tools of their trades to put them away. The offending weapons would be placed in a secure safe deeper in the cave, a location only he knew about for the safety of his boys.
It was after the firearms were well out of harms way when he realized there was silence in the cave once again. He looked up toward the computer and found Bruce still holding Damian to his chest, singing softly and rubbing the boy's back, but the babe was no longer screaming loudly. All he did now was cling to his father, eyes wet and staring off into space. Bruce sat in his chair, rocking back and forth in time with his song. His eyes were on the medical beds not too far off, fighting off the worry and fear he truly felt in this situation.
For once, all four boys were peacefully coexisting in their home. It wouldn't last long considering their natures, but they weren't trying to kill each other either. Three were asleep and one was an infant. All because of a spell. A spell that only hit them because the magician wanted to get back at Batman. The three weren't waking. Damian was an infant. An infant! This wasn't right. Despite the peace between them all at the moment, this wasn't right. Two of them should be adults. Another nearing adulthood eagerly. The last… the only reason Damian normally clung to Bruce was if his life was in danger. He clung to Dick if it was a nightmare. And yet here he was, a babe clinging to his father for unknown reasons.
He heard another picture being taken. Bruce sighed heavily then continued singing to keep his boy quiet. It was just one of those nights.
3
When Leslie returned with the shopping, Bruce was given a crash course lesson in diapers. Both Alfred and she refused to change Damian on a matter of principle, and because they enjoyed seeing Bruce squirm when given a task most men his age manage with ease.
Damian fussed and almost started wailing again when he was put down, but once in a fresh diaper and in black footie pajamas, he quieted down for a while. Bruce cradled him to his chest again, wrapping him in a soft gray blanket to give him extra warmth. Leslie gave the two a warm bottle and pacifier in case the babe started crying again before joining Alfred in redressing the other three.
Both Dick and Jason were forced into Damian's spare pajamas, one blue and the other red. Tim's new green pjs were a bit big on him but kept him warm all the same. None of them protested in their sleep and each seemed to settle better once fully clothed again.
Then came their next problem. Neither Leslie nor Alfred had the strength necessary to carry the three to their temporary shared room prepared for them. Maybe Tim, but certainly not Dick or Jason. Damian did not seem keen on letting go of his father quite yet either. They all exchanged looks before sighing heavily. Leslie gently took Damian away from his parent and tried feeding him as Bruce slid his arms under Dick's body to take him upstairs. By the time he was in the service elevator, the babe was already crying and resisting the woman's touch.
Bruce relished the moment of quiet as he carried the fourteen year old in his arms towards the bedroom in question. Vaguely he recalled doing this before with him. Dick sometimes fell asleep in the car after patrol. Some nights were harder than others so Bruce rarely found a fault in letting the boy sleep as long as possible.
Once he made it to the temporary 'boys room', he nudged open the door and took a quick look around. One very large bed near the center of the back wall, a few other pieces of furniture and a TV were all featured there. It was a family guest room, rarely used. The last time it was used was when Dick had Wally's family over one night. Bruce wasn't there to see it happen, but the depletion of food in the house was proof enough to what occured.
Carefully he placed Dick in the center of the bed. The young teen's mouth moved a bit in protest, but he didn't wake and he didn't say a word. Bruce watched him a moment, remembering all those nights he peaked into Dick's room as he grew up and just watched him sleep. Peace always flooded him during those nights, and a reassurance came to him, telling him he did right in taking the boy in.
He placed a hand on the boy's head for a moment and watched the knee jerk reaction on his face. A soft smile. Seeing that gentle smile on Dick's young face warmed him again and again, letting his own lips turn upward slightly. Very little compared to seeing that smile on his face. Only a few other things did, and he hoped to see them all again shortly.
Thinking twice before returning to the cave, Bruce slipped into his own room to change into pajamas and slippers. It was likely he wouldn't have another chance to change in a while so he took it. As he returned to the service elevator, he hefted his uniform in his arms, ready to exchange them for the next little boy he'd be putting to bed.
As predicted, nothing Leslie or Alfred could do would calm Damian's wails. Bruce witnessed the two trying to force the pacifier into his mouth, only for the babe to spit it back out within moments. His father tried to ignore what was happening and set his clothes on the empty medical bed before reaching for Jason. This time when he held the boy, he unconsciously cuddled up to him. Bruce had eyes only for his prodigal son as he entered the elevator once more.
He kept his gaze on Jason's face as he walked through the manor to that room once more. In his mind he kept playing over and over again the horrible event that clouded his judgments so well over the next year or so after it. Jason's death nearly killed him inside. He loved the boy so much, wanted to protect him and raise him well, and failed miserably. Even Dick's old cheerfulness and reason couldn't break him away from the darkness that came with this Robin's death. It still plagued him. It forever would.
When he first saw Jason again, he believed it was a trick. The second time, when he had evidence to back up his claims as Robin, he was too shocked to do much about it. The years after and all the battles between them tore at his heart. He left a message in his will for him, hoping to help him somehow should he die before he could save his son, but even that seemed to fail.
How many times was he going to fail his second child?
As he moved to set Jason on the right side of Dick, he felt reluctant to let go of him again. For a moment, Bruce sat on the edge of the bed and held Jason tightly, closing his eyes in fear tears would come out. He did not want to lose Jason again. He didn't want to lose him the first time. Killing Joker wouldn't bring his boy back. Even if he killed him now, Jason wouldn't come back to him. The only way for this boy to return to him, to truly come home, was if he let go of all the anger and bitterness he held on to and returned on his own. There was little Bruce could do besides wait for him with open arms.
Course Jason would have to face the consequence of his actions as well. Bruce couldn't back down on his principles after all. One thing he really didn't want to be was a hypocrite. If only there was a way for them to wipe the slate clean completely.
Reluctantly Bruce loosened his hold on his wayward son and gently placed him down on the bed. Up until then he showed no emotion on his face, but as Bruce started to rise from the mattress, Jason made a small whimper. Quickly Bruce returned to him, placing on hand on his head and another besides him in case he had to do more. His reward for the response was the lad moving into his touch and a smile coming to his face. It wasn't the sleepy gentle one Dick wore earlier, but a truly happy one telling him he could laugh for the sake of laughing right then.
Bruce smiled once more, pleased beyond all hope. This was Jason's smile, the one he wore those nights when he was put to bed as Robin. Impulsive, quick to act, rarely thought of the consequences, it was what made Jason so endearing and frustrating at the same time. That honest to goodness smile he wore to bed back then, and right at that moment, was entirely his. No one else could smile like that, and no one else would.
Leaving the room this time was harder than before, but there was still one more bird to put to bed before he returned to his most demanding son. Damian continued to wail in the cave, screaming at the top of his lungs. Honestly it was a miracle Tim was still out cold. Any other six year old would have woken up and started crying if their baby brother was screaming like that. What was it that made all three of them sleep through everything?
Like before, Tim turned into Bruce's hold on him eagerly as he slept. Tight fists kept strong grips on his robe, reminding the man how firm this boy was. Tim wouldn't back down when he told Bruce and Dick 'Batman needed a Robin'. It became a mantra once they realized the truth. In order for Batman not to go overboard, to not become what he fought against, he needed someone to light his way. Having someone to care for in the field made him cautious, more mindful of his actions. He needed to be a mentor and protector to someone else he'd fall into a mindless, violent trap. Tim saved him from becoming a monster, and more than that. He saved him from death and loneliness.
Tim brought Dick back. He made the small struggling family whole again. Shortly after he became Robin, others joined his ranks. Huntress, Spoiler, Cassandra becoming Batgirl, Azreal, the Birds of Prey, they came forward and were welcomed by Tim, who worked hard to make Batman accept each of them. Some were easier than others, but it was only after Tim joined them that he found family did not end with adoption or blood.
Looking down on him now, he could see the faint signs of him being a lonely child. Maybe that was why he attached himself to friends and others so easily. That was why losing as much as he had hurt him so much.
And yet he kept his moral compass strong. More than anything he believed in right and wrong, in justice, in Bruce. It was his belief in him that saved the world when he found a way to return to his time. Again he owed Tim his life. This small boy now cradled in his arms saved him in so many ways and now depended on him to be a good father more than any of the others.
Very much unlike the others, Tim wasn't really his until he was nearly full grown. Bruce and he should have been in the same social circles as he grew up, and yet he barely knew of the Drakes in general until the day this boy walked into his life. Sharp as a tack, already accustomed to the high life, this boy wanted to do more. And unlike the others, he was fine just being Robin. He just wanted to support him.
Happiness filled Bruce as he walked back into the room, toeing around to the other side of the bed to keep Jason and Tim separated as they slept. As Bruce settled the little boy down on the bed, left of Dick, he found it hard to leave. Tim still had a fistful of his robe in hand and a disgruntled look covered his sleeping face. Slowly Bruce placed his hands on his little one's and pried him off. Tim's face became even more upset, but soon changed as Bruce leaned over him and gently kissed his forehead. He kept a hand on the little boy's head as his face relaxed again and into a content smile.
It was very like him. It took quite some time before either of them accepted or gave affection to each other. Being raised in similar environments, it wasn't that surprising they had similar ticks. Tim's many smiles were reserved for certain people at certain times. While sleeping, it was a miracle for the boy to smile at all. Being content as he rested was as far as it would ever seem to go.
Yes, it was very like him, and it warmed Bruce's heart.
Slowly he stood up from the bed and pulled the blankets over the three boys there. Jason's mouth was open again, drooling. Dick's kept mumbling something softly, but he couldn't tell what. Tim just snuggled deeper into his part of the bed, taking no notice of the other two lying nearby. Bruce finished tucking the three in before gently closing the door for them to rest. It was going to be very noisy when they woke up. He knew it.
When he returned to the cave, Bruce gave a long sigh before taking Damian again. The babe started quieting almost immediately, clutching onto his father's robe. He looked into Leslie's eyes apologetically, but the woman gave him an understanding look. "Separation anxiety," she offered gently. "All things considered, you're probably the only constant in his life right now."
"I beg to differ," Alfred protested, and Bruce had to agree. Alfred was the real constant support for everyone there. Without him, Bruce doubted any of them would have stuck together.
Leslie gave him an apologetic shrug. "Alright, maybe not. But he is Damian's father. He doesn't want to leave his daddy."
"Quite possibly," Alfred admitted before looking back towards his charge.
Bruce rubbed his son's back slowly as the babe calmed down. He still fussed but now it wasn't giving them headaches. He recalled his and the other boy's reactions as he put them to bed. "It's something I think they all share."
"Call yourself whatever you wish," Leslie noted with a small smile. "One thing you're not is a bad father. Not a perfect one, but definitely not bad."
"Indeed. Now sir," Alfred started, "I do believe there is a bed and a crib waiting for the two of you in your chambers. Ms. Tompkins and I will gather up the necessities down here and leave them in your room, but I do insist you two go to bed immediately."
To that Bruce's mouth twitched. Tables were being turned on him once again, and he didn't want to fight Alfred that night. "Of course Alfred."
He swiftly returned to the elevator and towards his bedroom, stopping only briefly to listen in on the boys. Still sound asleep. He gave a short sigh of relief before finishing the journey to his room. There he found a pop up crib set and ready for use, and walked straight to it to relieve his arms. And like before, Damian wouldn't let go.
"What's with little kids and their iron clad grips?" Really, both little Tim and baby Damian could give Clark a run for his money with grips like theirs. After a minute of trying to get Damian off of him, the baby started to cry again. Finally he gave up. Thankfully Bruce didn't roll around in his sleep. That night the babe could sleep with him.
Turning off the light, Bruce laid down on his giant bed with his infant son laying on his chest. Damian was finally sleeping after a few minutes. It was about time. Slowly Bruce closed his eyes and let sleep take him at long last. It had been a long and trying night. Deaged children only made it ten times worse.
"WHAT THE F*CKIN' HELL?!"
Instantly Bruce's eyes opened. He recognized that voice, but it was different than normal. Pre-puberty. Jason changed a lot in the past ten years. But one thing wouldn't change: the soap Alfred was undoubtedly going to use in Jason's mouth in fifteen minutes.
The man sighed heavily before looking down to the weight on his chest. Damian was waking, and not in a good way. Briefly Bruce sniffed the air and identified the sent he was dreading as much as the inevitable shouting. He laid in bed a moment longer before forcing himself upwards, one hand keeping the babe on him.
This was going to be a long day.
4
Jason would have liked to say he was the first to wake up, but he wasn't. Tim was, about an hour previous. Still in a dream like stupor, the tiny once-teen left the warm bed and walked over to the private bathroom to relieve himself. Then he blearily went straight back into bed, not even realizing what had happened earlier.
Similarly, about forty-five minutes later Dick woke up for a minute, but only to roll over towards Jason and start cuddling him. His subconscious told him the ten year old was Damian, and he was always fun to cuddle while he slept. He too promptly fell back asleep.
But Dick's grip in the end woke Jason, and he was no longer accustomed to sleeping in the manor, nor many other safe locations. As soon as he saw the ceiling his eyes widened dangerously. He looked straight to the weight he felt on him and jerked his head around to see a teenage boy next to him, almost trapping him in the bed.
All things considered, his response was very logical.
"WHAT THE F*CKIN' HELL?!" he shouted at Dick's face as he jerked violently back and out of his arms. His jolt startled Dick into a half awake daze while his voice brought a moan from Tim on the other side of him.
"Shut up Damian… waaaaiittt…." Tim murmured, confusion entering his voice.
"Who the hell are you callin' Damian!" Jason was on his knees, backing away from Dick as fast as he could. The teenager stared at the ten year old, quickly coming out of his daze. Jason's wild eyes flew everywhere, trying to something, anything, that made sense. "What the f*ck is goin' on?!"
"Jason?!" Dick gaped at him, unable to fathom why the guy was a kid.
"Who did you think I was?! The toothfairy?!" Enraged, the boy glared at the teen. He was ready to both kill and run. "Who the hell are you?!"
"What?" Dick's confused face continued being in shock. Behind him, a six year old Timmy sat up in the bed and stared at his hands in silence. "It's me! Dick!"
"Yeah right!" Sarcasm dripped from his lips as fury consumed his mind. The kid far from him turned to look at the other two as he continued to shout. "Last I knew, Dickhead was taller! You look like you should be wearin' pixie boots!"
"Hey! You wore them too!" The teen leapt to his feet, glaring down onto Jason as best he could. The kid behind him eyes grew to saucers before looking around the room, still silent. "And they got the job done!"
"Yeah, I bet that was great on the gay wagon!" Glaring, Jason jumped to his feet too. His eyes were nearly level with Dick's, turning their ferocious glares almost into a staring contest. Neither of them was paying attention as Tim rolled off the bed and darted into the bathroom.
"I'm straight and you know it!"
"Sure you are. That's why you wear leotards and show off your a—"
"OH MY GOD!" Both boys glanced towards the bathroom where Timmy's childlike voice swore in surprise. Both stared in shock when they finally noted he was a diminutive six year old. Tim was gaping at his reflection in the floor length mirror hanging on the wall touching it on occasion. "We've been deaged!"
"What the hell?!" Jason cursed automatically in confusion. Dick ignored him, leaping off the bed and dashing to the bathroom to see what he was talking about.
"Deaged?" Once in the bathroom, he stopped and gaped at Timmy. The once teenager was now back to the beginning of school, staring at his own reflection. "Tim?!"
The six year old nervously turned toward the teen, shock still playing on his face. "Yeah… It's me Dick. And that's you."
He pointed to Dick's reflection, making him turn to see himself at long last. Instantly he gasped, gaping at his own appearance. He was himself, at thirteen or fourteen, right before his major growth-spurt. He locked eyes with himself, shock staying on his face. "Damn it. Jason! Get in here! You have to see this!"
"The last thing I want to see is your f*ckin' face Dicky!" came the reply. "Where the hell am I?! Why am I here?!"
"I think he's missing the big picture here," Tim noted, trying to be calm.
"Always does," Dick observed, not taking his eyes off himself.
"We're in the manor," Tim offered, trying to coax Jason to join them in front of the mirror. "One of the guest rooms reserved for small families."
"Yeah, Wally and Roy used it when they visited with their families," the elder added to make things clear. He pulled back a sleeve, checking if the scars he knew were still there. As far as he could see, there was no change in his unconventional body art.
"As for why," Tim shrugged, sounding like the reason was obvious, "I'm betting Bruce found us all like this and took us here. You have to admit, the manor is pretty safe and out of the way. No one will know what's going on here. You can only hide so much at—"
"Where's Damian?!" Dick shouted in realization.
"Um…"
Quickly Dick the teen dashed out of the bathroom and around the rest of the place, searching for the fifth Robin. Fear had started taking control of him as he looked. Damian was his responsibility until their last patrol was done, and last thing he remembered they weren't done yet.
Jason rolled his eyes at the guy before marching towards the door. "Stupid Dick. Where do you think he is? If we've all been 'deaged', whatever the f*ck that is, then he's either dead or with that ass of a dad of his."
"Watch your mouth!" Dick snapped back at him as he tossed some pillows in the air.
"Peh, like ya give a damn what I f*ckin' say? That demon is a hell of a lot worse than I am."
"Ummm… as much as I hate agreeing with Jason," Tim observed as he slowly left the bathroom, "he's probably right. Depending on how far back we've all gone physically, he's either a dead embryo or a baby in constant need of care. I'm pretty sure Bruce wouldn't leave him alone or with the three of us if that's the case."
"Score one for the replacement!" Jason jibed, a cocky smirk on his face. "Guess next time we meet I won't be shootin' ya."
"Yeah and I'm so looking forward to that," Tim murmured as he rolled his eyes. He really didn't want to deal with this crazy first thing in the morning. Personally he was glad the guy was headed out the door.
"Jason!" Dick on the other hand wasn't. A new wave of panic settled on his face. "We need to stay here!"
"No way in hell am I stayin' under the same roof as you guys!" He grabbed the knob and yanked the door open to leave, only to come face to face with a giant. Jason paled a moment, completely still, before throwing the door shut in the man's face. "Found your demon!" he shouted to the others before dashing to the far corner of the room.
"Nice try young man."
At this voice, both Tim and Dick tensed and relaxed. They were relieved to hear the person they trusted most, but knew they were in for a whole world of trouble. 'Young man' was usually the precursor to much more unpleasant phrases. Thankfully, they were likely to be thrown at Jason, having slammed the door in Bruce's face.
The dark knight in question easily opened the door and stepped in, holding a gray and black bundle in one arm and closely followed in by Alfred. Bruce looked over all three of them, his face still but his arms moving slightly to keep his grip on his package. The butler was eyeing them all for a moment, a camera in one hand and a bar of soap in the other. All three boys took in the old man within moments, then two of them turned on the third.
"Told you to watch the language," Dick teased, a smirk on his face. Jason's eyes became wide again as they latched onto that bar of soap, his mouth firmly shut.
"Bruce, what's going on? What happened?" Tim quickly tried to cross the room but tripped over the hem of his pants, falling flat out on his stomach. Both Bruce and Dick came forward to help him up while Jason pointed and laughed at his misfortune. Alfred used that opportunity to shove the bar into his mouth. "Ow."
"Easy there Timmy," Dick started, pulling his brother to his feet. Bruce knelt before him to make certain he was alright. Both boys just turned towards him expectantly. "Okay Bruce, what's going on? Is that Damian?"
Slowly Bruce nodded and showed them the baby in his arms. Little Damian was wide awake and thankfully not fussy, but instantly started squirming when he spotted Dick. A hand even let go of Bruce to reach for him. The three stared at the babe for a moment in surprise before the teen reached for him and started holding their youngest brother.
"Unbelievable," Bruce murmured as he stared at the two. "He wouldn't let anyone but me hold him last night, and I couldn't get him to calm down for the longest time."
Dick shrugged. "I'm just good with kids."
"Or he's mentally still the same too," Tim observed. Bruce and Dick started at him for a moment as he tested this theory. "Damian, this is just to know if I'm right, not to humiliate you or anything. If anything, it'll make things easier on all of us until we've got this sorted out. Nod twice if you know exactly what's going on right now."
For a long moment the baby gave Tim a dark infant glare. Even if he was a baby and Tim was six-ish, Damian did not want to get along with him. But he nodded, twice. Everyone but Tim jolted their heads back in surprise at this discovery, staring at the babe. Tim merely sighed heavily.
"Figured as much."
"How did you—"
"Since I remember a lot of adult things, and Dick and Jason were comparing their histories and costumes, I figured whatever turned us into kids, it had no control over our minds. So here we have four people with so many years or memories that shouldn't count or be there." He stated this as calmly as he could, making him sound like his usual self for a moment.
"Then how come he hasn't said a word?" Bruce asked, curious if Tim had an answer for that as well. For all he knew, the boy's behavior was attributed to his physical age.
Timmy shrugged. "I'm guessing learning to talk has less to do with brain functions than motor functions right now. I don't know that much about babies. Bruce, what happened? Why are we kids?"
"Yeah Bruce," Dick interjected, shifting Damian's weight in hopes to make them both more comfortable. Pleading bewilderment contorted his face. "What happened?"
Bruce gave a long heavy sigh before answering. He gave Jason a conflicted glance before looking back to the other three. "I'm not entirely sure."
"What?!" All three boys said in unison, Jason having finally escaped Alfred's cleaning of his mouth. "What do you mean you—"
"I haven't really had time to go through everything yet," their father admitted. He rose to his feet then inclined his head to the emerald velvet couch in front of the TV there. "It's best you get comfortable before I tell you what I do know. Over there."
The boys in front of him hesitated for a moment before nodding and going over without any protests. Dick sat down gently on one end of the couch, turning Damian around to sit on his knees facing the TV and where Bruce would be momentarily. Tim sat closely next to him, cocking his head to silently ask for an explanation. It took a firm look from both Alfred and Bruce to get Jason to join them. He lounged in the opposite corner of the other three, taking a whole cushion for himself in rebellion. Alfred stood behind the couch as if to keep them there while Bruce settled himself in front of them all.
Both hands remained behind his back as he carefully chose his next set of words. Each of the boys knew he struggled to explain things involving himself so they waited a minute in silence for him to talk. A minute though was all Jason would give him. "Well?!"
"You've all been deaged," Bruce started.
"Kinda figured that," the ten year old growled, glaring at his former mentor.
"How did it happen Bruce?" Dick insisted. "I don't remember being hit by some whacked out chemicals."
"Haven't seen Mxyzptik lately either," Tim noted.
"Whoda whata?" Jason asked in confusion, looking over to Tim.
"A fifth dimensional prankster Superman usually deals with who—"
"Has nothing to do with this," Bruce finished. He recalled very easily the massive age swap all those years ago, and it gave him a great deal of sympathy for his boys, having finally worn the Robin costume during that event. Their gazes returned to him within a second. He took a deep breath before continuing. "It was Felix Faust."
"The warlock?" Dick asked to clarify. Alarm grew on Tim's face as Bruce nodded.
Jason merely looked skeptical. "What? Magic? You seriously think magic did this to us?"
"It doesn't matter if you think its magic or an unspecified science," Bruce stated firmly. "What matters is the result. Zatanna was having trouble locking down Faust's operations here in Gotham and requested my assistance in taking him down. Apparently I stepped on one too many of his toes," this one smothered snickers from each of the boys, "and he decided to curse me."
"Curse you? Seriously?" Jason rolled his eyes, keeping his voice at an acceptable level to avoid Alfred's wrath. "Has this guy ever really met you? If he really wanted to torture you, he should have trapped you butt naked in the same room as the Joker."
"Jason!" Dick snapped at him as both he and Tim glared daggers into his skin. The boy shrugged it off casually.
Bruce though had to smirk. "True, that would have worked as well."
"See, told ya. So why are we all like this?" the rebel demanded casually, a smug look on his face. "This warlock an idiot or somethin'?"
"No," the man admitted softly. "He's one of the strongest magic users of his time."
"Then why the he—ck," he edited quickly at a soft cough from Alfred, "am I a f—reakin' kid!"
"Because he wanted to make me suffer," Bruce explained. Jason continued to look at him in enraged confusion while a light donned on Tim and Dick's faces. It was near impossible to read Damian's baby face. Calmly the man continued. "If any of you died…"
He paused for a moment, gripping his hands tightly behind his back to help him conceal his emotions. His kinder birds recognized his habit and started to worry about him. Jason's confusion lost its anger, making him lean forward as if begging the man to continue. So he did. "I doubt I'd be able to continue on, as Batman… or as Bruce Wayne."
For a long moment, there was silence in the room. Jason just gaped at Bruce, completely taken back while the other two looked down, knowing it was true. Baby Damian just cocked his head to the side, obviously not understanding what he meant this time. Bruce too looked to the floor, letting the thought sink in.
"Wait… what?" Jason's breathless question caused the man to look back to him alone. Disbelief, and maybe a small amount of hope, flooded his face. "What do you mean by that? You're Batman. There's no way you would—"
"You have no idea what Bruce did after you died Jason," Dick interjected. Jason looked at him, bewilderment never leaving his face. The teen continued to stare at the ground, remembering that time sadly. Tim kept his gaze on the ground as well. It was because of Batman's actions after Jason died that started his road to being Robin after all.
"Sure I do!" he snapped, his anger returning. "He up and replaced me with the half-pint there!"
"That was after he nearly got himself killed fighting crime solo for a year. I started this job to keep him alive."
Jason snapped out of his temper, gaping at Tim in disbelief. "Bull."
"He's telling the truth Jay," Dick piped in. "Things didn't go well for us back then, and they only seemed to get worse between us. He tried to—"
"Enough," Bruce started, trying to move them along. As much as they tried explaining events to Jason in the past, now wasn't the time to tell him what he nearly did to Joker back then. "What matters is, Faust must have known this and decided to reverse your lives, probably to embryos. Zatanna tried to stop it, but seemed to only prevent further deaging. I don't know the details about it as of yet because my first priority was getting each of you to safety. I'll be getting answers from her in an hour, after you're all situated better."
"Why didn't you get answers last night?" Jason demanded, though not as angrily as before. "Or at least wake us up. You sure as… anything didn't do that before."
"Good question," Tim murmured lowly as Dick's face repeated it.
"I tried waking you," Bruce explained, running a hand through his hair, "but none of you would. A side effect of the spell I presume. And Damian wouldn't let anyone else hold him last night, and he wouldn't stop crying. Could you see me taking a crying infant to the watch tower?"
Everyone looked at the baby in the room, some with more annoyance than others. They'd have more answers if he wasn't there. The babe in question seemed to be avoiding everyone's gazes, patiently waiting for his father to continue.
And he did, sighing for a moment. "There are still questions I have to ask the three of you though. Too many mysteries. Such as, why were you all in the same room of that warehouse at the East Side Pier."
"Same room?" Jason asked, obviously lost.
"East Side Pier?" Tim cocked his head in confusion.
"That's where I found you," Bruce explained. "All four of you were in a warehouse, upper story. Shattered the window getting in, and you three didn't move a muscle."
"Well I know why we were there," Dick started, racking his brain for answers, "but I don't remember going into a warehouse. Damian and I were tracking down a drug operation over there. They had crates stuffed with cocaine straight from Mexico. They even had a few with Venom inside. Last I remember, we were setting up an assault on the dealers, then…"
His voice drifted off as he tried to remember what happened next. "We weren't planning on going into a warehouse, that's all I know for certain. Next thing I know, we're all here, like this."
"Peh, some help you are." Jason rolled his eyes, putting up a pretense of not being concerned best he could. "That shipment you were trackin', I was trying to get drowned in the sea. New guy. Doesn't listen to my rules. I was on the east end, shining my best friends last I knew. Takin' a breather before the fun began. Then I'm here. Damn if I know what happened."
"Ahem." The ten year old looked up to Alfred and his displeased face, blood rushing away from his.
"Is that one really so bad?"
"One warning."
Jason tightened his lips together, almost as if to bite his tongue. So long as he was a kid there, he'd really have to watch his mouth around the old man.
Bruce and Dick turned their gazes to the third Robin who was looking a little away as he thought hard about his last memories. "Tim?"
"I'm thinking," he answered quickly. They gave him a minute more before he sighed a little. "Not entirely sure, but last I really remember is working on a history paper, then realizing how late it was. I wanted to take a breather, so I opened my window and popped outside. I can kind of remember the urge to run on rooftops and putting my uniform on, but that's about it. Sorry Bruce. I have no idea why I was on the east side at all."
The man nodded. "Possibly a side effect from the spell."
"Or part of it," Dick amended.
"Indeed." He looked away for a moment in thought. They knew this was going to be part of the list of questions he'd ask Zatanna later. He was going to have a long talk with her.
Finally the man sighed. "Alright. Now we know where we stand. Until everyone's back to normal, we're all staying here."
"Yeah right," Jason interjected, ignoring the agreeing nods of the others. They all seemed to give him cold looks in response.
"Do you really think you can survive on the streets alone in your current condition?" Bruce stated flatly. "For all we know, this may be permanent. Civil services will haul you to juvie if they find you, or worse. At least here you have a chance to be an adult again Jason."
The ten year old squirmed under his gaze, not really wanting to think about it. But it was the truth. All of them had a better chance of returning to normal if they just stayed in the manor with Bruce and Alfred. Out of the public's eye, far of trouble, and enjoying the luxuries of being a billionaire's son. The boy growled to himself, but definitely gave in to his foster father at long last. He couldn't argue with his logic.
"Wait," Tim started, an idea coming to him. "All of us? Including you?"
Dick jerked his head around at the concept, joined in by Jason's widening eyes. Slowly Bruce nodded. "I'll make some excuse about all of us disappearing for an undisclosed amount of time if we need to, maybe an island trip or skiing adventure depending on how long this will last. Something to keep the vultures away. Batman's activities will be kept to a minimal until we know what we're dealing with—"
"Or unless Joker or Two-Face rear their heads again," Dick insisted. Robin number two's face tightened slightly at the mention of those two foes but said nothing. Bruce merely nodded, tensing a bit as well.
"Baring them, we have to leave Gotham in the girls' hands. You're my first responsibility, and I intend to do right by you, each of you. This may only last a few hours or a few days, but until you're at your proper ages, you're under my care."
Everyone stared openly at Bruce, each of their reactions different. Jason openly gaped at him, his jaw ajar in disbelief. For once he didn't seem defensive or angry, just surprised as he let this sink in. Tim's eyes filled with both joy and concern. Bruce worrying more about them than Gotham was a bit unusual. Dick couldn't hide his smile very well. Being the first thing Bruce was thinking of was a childhood wish of his, one he never realized was true. Damian was still for a moment longer, before he started to squirm a bit, his hands raising towards his father. Alfred merely gave his usual smile, but didn't hide his unspoken pride in his charge's decision.
"You're wacked," Jason murmured, but there was no bite to it. "You're giving up Batman to take care of us?"
"I wouldn't say giving it up," Bruce mused. "My mission is far from over."
"You're still wacked."
"Be it as it may," Alfred interjected, inclining his head between Bruce and the still reaching Damian, "I do believe the young masters are in need of breakfast and a change of apparel. Come. Your clothes are in your rooms. I expect everyone in the kitchen in fifteen minutes, unless you wish to only eat soap Master Jason."
Jason groaned and rolled his eyes as he got off the couch ignoring the snickers from both Dick and Tim. Bruce picked up Damian as the other two followed Alfred out the door to their old rooms. The old man was really the king of the manor after all, no one argued with him.
5
Dick picked at his old clothes as he came back onto the hallway, not liking the prep look he was forced into once again. One of the first things he did when he left Wayne manor the first time was ditch the look Alfred had him wear. He always preferred more casual clothing after all. Why Alfred kept his clothes from way back then he'd never know.
He looked over to Tim and knew he hadn't faired much better. Course he grew up going back and forth between t-shirts and jeans and the upper class prep look, depending on his parents' situation back then. He was pretty much fine wearing anything. Just that these clothes were a bit big on him, and he kept tripping into things.
"Ow." Tim repeated for the third time since waking up. He rubbed his head, having plowed into a table in the hallway. "I miss being big."
"You miss a lot of things." Calmly Dick knelt down and started rolling up the kid's pant legs. Tim gave him an annoyed glare before the teen started adjusting the rest of his clothes to fit him. "See? Wow, at least Alfred left you a belt. Everything's just two sizes too big."
"And where did you get those?" Tim jibed back, picking at the sweater-vest Dick was wearing. "They look old."
"About ten years old," he admitted with a sigh as he adjusted Tim's collar. "Alfred didn't donate them when I out grew them."
Timmy couldn't help but to smirk. "You wore these on a normal day?"
"Hence why I left," he smirked. Confusion started to grow on the kid's face.
"But I thought—"
"Just joking." Dick ran a hand through Tim's hair affectionately, a smile on his face. "But let's just say, when I first ran over to the Titans and lived just with them, I got myself a completely new look. Not just as Nightwing either."
"Ah yes," Tim reminisced, "the mullet."
An evil grin grew on the first Robin's face. "Nah, that was to tick Bruce off. Ready for breakfast?"
The kid looked behind him towards one very infrequently used door. "Shouldn't we wait for Jason? You know, so he doesn't run off?"
Dick waved it off. "Nah, he's a big boy. He'll find his own way to the food. Besides, Bruce'll drag him down if he has to."
With that, the two made their way to the kitchen, briefly stopping at one of the banisters for a moment to slide down them, grinning. Tim had trouble leaping off at the last second, but Dick caught him, preventing another bump. Both giggled at the bottom. "Alfred would be so ticked…"
"What he doesn't know can't hurt him." Dick grinned as he guided Tim to the kitchen. "I used to do that every other morning. There was one Christmas Bruce raced me down the stairs and I won because did that. The only rule for the race was no acrobatics."
"Didn't want you to leap onto the couches huh?" Tim laughed.
"More like sparing them another chandelier," he admitted. The kid's laughter only grew, making Dick smile warmly at him. It was good to hear Tim laughing like that again. After everything that had happened to him, it was rare to hear it. He missed those days when he laughed easily. How long ago was it?
Smells of warm delicious food broke him away from that train of thought as they entered the kitchen and saw the makings of the meal waiting them. Though the manor had a large table in the dining room, the kitchen was where they mostly ate. The dining hall just reminded everyone of the mask Bruce wore to the public and the loneliness they all faced too often. Maybe they'd enjoy the room if the whole bat-clan came to dinner one night. Somehow though, everyone doubted that'd ever happen.
As it was, Dick and Tim eagerly entered the kitchen and took their usual places at the counter. An old highchair was nearby along with two other stools. Alfred was finishing up the eggs before putting some plates together for serving. The boys grinned at each other, having missed these breakfasts with Alfred when they both moved out. If it were just them cooking, it'd be something simple and quick. And heaven forbid Bruce trying to make breakfast.
Before they knew it, two plates of specially prepared eggs, pancakes and melon balls sat before them. Tim's had broccoli and cheese in his eggs with blueberries in the pancakes while Dick's eggs were poached and his pancakes lathered in strawberries and whipped cream. Another stack of pancakes waited for Jason, each one smothered in butter with thick maple syrup waiting to be poured beside it, a few sausages lying next to them. Glasses of milk and orange juice presented themselves next to each plate as Alfred went back to finishing up Bruce's breakfast. He would have beagles, eggs, and raisin bran along with his coffee. A fresh bottle of milk waited on the high chair.
"I would tell the two of you to wait," Alfred started, "but I know you must be hungry."
"Famished," Tim insisted as he picked up his utensils. Dick had already downed half his milk. "No coffee until we're big again huh?"
"Indeed sir. Take time to chew your food," the butler reminded them before finishing preparing Bruce's plate. Dick tried not to laugh and choke on his food, but only Tim succeeded. The six year old slapped the teen's back a few times to help him breathe again before he managed to drain the last of his glass, easing the food down his throat. Alfred merely sighed. "I did warn you Master Richard."
"Thanks Alfie," he managed between chuckles and coughs. Above them they heard shouting and heavy footfalls, telling them all what had happened. Dick shook his head with a smirk, getting back to busying himself with his meal. Tim rolled his eyes and gave his brother a knowing look while Alfred merely sighed in disappointment. "Window or polls?"
"I'm guessing roof," the kid offered before taking another slice of blueberry goodness.
Dick shook his head. "He'd want his stuff back first. Hadn't made it to the study yet so I'm thinking polls."
"What about the one in the entertainment room?" Tim offered, waving another piece of pancake around on his fork.
"That one was put in after you joined up," he explained. The service elevator was in the kitchen and only the three of them were there. The only other entrances they knew of were outside or underground through the caves. They were reserved for the cars. The batcave was only as secure if they kept the entrances to a minimum.
Before they could continue this debate, Bruce marched in, carrying Jason under one arm while balancing Damian in the other. Exasperation nearly controlled his features as the ten year old flailed in the man's grasp and the babe shrieked at him. If Dick had a camera right then he'd take a snapshot for future blackmail. It was quite a sight to see.
"Let me go!" Jason shouted fiercely. He kept kicking and punching at Bruce's torso in protest, but the man held him in such a way he couldn't do much damage or escape. Alfred carefully relieved the man of his infant so he could deal with the boy alone at last. The other two watched as they ate, very amused at the sight.
"Not until you stop fighting me!" Bruce barked back. Now with his other hand free, he grabbed the boy's wrists together and tried to calm him down.
The boy scowled up at him, still squirming in his grasp. "Control freak!" This won a smirk from nearly everyone else in the room. There was no denying this.
His foster father frowned, his face darkening slowly. He looked to the others. "Excuse us for a moment."
Quickly he turned Jason's body into a princess styled hold before marching back into the hallway for privacy. Dick and Tim inwardly groaned. Their morning entertainment was gone. Alfred suppressed a smile as he turned towards the high chair and realized Damian wasn't yet old enough to sit in one. Resigned with the fussing babe, he grabbed the prepared bottle and started feeding him. The other two strained their ears to hear Bruce lecture the rogue.
Judging by the heavy thump, he had set the squirming boy on the ground without hurting him.
And that's where I stopped.
Wow there's a lot more than I thought there'd be...
I think i'll sum this one up in the next post, where ideas only are there. Tata!