Bruce felt so heavy. It was wonderful, especially compared to the airiness when he was just a soul. He breathed deep, refreshed by the control of his own body, cracking his eyes open with some difficulty. Sight, so nice to be able to see again, to perceive visually. He tested his joints and muscles, relieved to have instant response. With that, he sat up, pushing back the blankets, and looking around his room. Wonder what time it is, where are the kids and Alfred? He thought, pushing back the blankets even more and pivoting to get out of the bed. He rose to his feet, stumbling a bit on numbed limbs, but he got a handle on it quickly and was headed towards his open doorway.
Abruptly, there was Jason, just as Bruce was halfway to his destination. Jason stared, as if stunned by the sight of Bruce. "D-Dad…?" He whispered.
Bruce gave a weak smile, he hated when his kids looked hurt and confused and just out of it, "Hey Jay."
"He's awake!" Jason bellowed, voice echoing down the hall and then almost before Bruce could react, Jason was wrapped around him, face in his shoulder, and arms tight around his chest. "You're awake."
Bruce felt something loosen inside, a sigh leaving him as tears clouded his eyes, "Yes." He hugged his boy back. But that was the only moment they had, when the other kids poured into the room with a ruckus and Jason pulled away. Dick was the first into his emptied arms, followed by Damian wedging his way in, and then Tim tucking under his left arm and clinging. "Are you all okay?" He asked, looking them over.
"We're the ones who should be asking you that!" Stephanie snickered, voice quivering as she squished Damian even closer as she joined in, while Cassandra ninja-ed her way into the hug at Dick's side.
He took inventory of his brood one-by-one, petting heads and wiping away tears that probably equaled the amount he was shedding. They must've been asleep, except for Jason. Dick's hair was mussed and he had pressure marks on his face from his pillowcase. Tim looked washed out, a smear of dried drool on his cheek. Damian was warm to the touch, a soft pink tone to his skin. Stephanie's hair was a wild mess of gold, her eyeliner smeared. Cassandra wore a blanket like a cape, one side of her hair standing up.
"Master Bruce," Alfred entered the room and, for once, looked tired, body loose and tension in his spine relaxing.
"Hey Alfred. I'm sorry." He looked over his family, his house, his reasons for living. "To all of you, I'm sorry." He meant for everything; for their worry, and for their pasts, for the times he never said sorry, and the times when his apologies weren't adequate. He reached out a hand and dragged Jason closer by his shoulder, crushing all his bats and birds as he embraced them. They didn't seem to mind, even as they all cried, noses running and eyes going bloodshot. Not even seeming to mind that they were starting to become more a tangle of limbs and tears rather than people.
He sighed again in relief, happy to be home. As the voice had said, lost souls could build a wonderful house. Hell, it was the fact that they were lost souls that made this home so imperfectly perfect.