Chapter Text
Bruce is going to die. He’s going to die and his whole world will be over all because his friends are mad at him. Next to him, perched on the countertop nibbling a frankenstein waffle Steph probably concocted, is Dick. His youngest, most dynamic son.
Dick pats his arm morosely. “It’s okay, B,” he says warmly. “You’re gonna be fine.”
Bruce nods, but he isn’t sure. He’s fucked up the pancakes, which is one thing gone wrong already, and it’s only morning. Plenty can go wrong before the meeting is scheduled.
He’d been foolish, picking today. He could’ve scheduled it for a week’s time, or maybe even a month’s, but he didn’t. He was reckless and brash, deciding to soothe Diana’s worries by going for the very next day.
In all fairness, it’s what he deserves for having such horrendous communication issues. He could’ve told Diana everything right there and then, but he didn’t. So, technically, this is all Bruce’s fault.
They’re in the kitchen. This is a crucial thing to know, because Bruce should not be in the kitchen. Neither should Dick, because he has a tendency of doing cartwheels on the counters, but Bruce is specifically banned for his pathetic culinary skills.
Dick kicks his legs aimlessly, shoving the rest of his waffle (which is green, by the way) into his mouth like a starved dog. He isn’t like Jason was when he first arrived at the manor. Jason was practically feral. He was half-starved to death, angry, confused and scared. It took forever to warm up to him. And then he died.
Bruce sucks in a deep breath. He should’ve been better. At everything, really. He should’ve let the kids link themselves to Robin, he should’ve saved Tim and Jason from the Joker, he shouldn’t have adopted so many kids when he knows he’s a terrible person, but here he is.
Dick pauses, peering at Bruce suspiciously. “You aren’t beating yourself up again, are you?” he asks. “Don’t make me pull out the big guns.”
‘The big guns’ are Dick’s older siblings. Specifically Duke, who likes to pounce on Bruce and give him praise until he sucks it up and starts acting like a real man. Dick likes to weaponise his older siblings. They’re wrapped around his little finger and he knows it. He could be deadly if he wanted to, but Bruce is (fairly) sure he isn’t planning on becoming a genocidal maniac any time soon.
“I’m fine,” Bruce says. He pulls himself away from the counters and heads for the door. He better get the cave ready.
-
The Watchtower is buzzing with anticipation. They’re all waiting for Bruce to walk in. Bruce hovers behind the door to the meeting room, listening as ideas are thrown around the room.
“Maybe we have a top secret mission to Mars,” Ollie suggests.
“Do you think he’s resigning? I sure hope not,” Barry says. “I dunno what I’d do if Batman resigned…”
“I’m not resigning,” Bruce says, pushing into the room.
Only half the room jumps. Clark obviously heard him coming, as did J’onn, and Diana seems to be too caught up in her own mind to really notice him.
“I, uh, have an announcement,” Bruce says. Wait, no, that’s not– that was wrong. Eugh, now he has to start over. How awkward. “Or– I have something for you to see.”
Ollie perks up. “Is it your secret identity?” he asks.
“No,” Bruce growls. He doesn't get why Ollie's so caught up on that. Besides, when Bruce does finally feel comfortable revealing his identity – and only to the core members of the League, mind you – Ollie will have an epiphany.
“Then what?” Ollie says, looking considerably less excited.
“I–” Bruce really doesn’t know how to go about this. Does he just say it outright? Tell them he wants them to meet his kids? Or at least, his past Robins? “I’d like you to meet someone. Again.”
“Oh, is this about the new Robin?” Barry asks. “He’s a cute kid.”
“He’s part of it,” Bruce says. He doesn’t offer any more explanation than a murmured, “Follow me.”
With that, he strides away, leaving the League to scamper to catch up with him.
“Hey, uh, where are we going, Batsy?” Ollie asks.
“The batcave,” Bruce says, because there’s no point hiding it now.
Diana shoots him a surprised glance. Apparently this wasn’t what she was expecting. He wonders what she thought he was planning.
“I need you to see something,” Bruce says as he powers the zetas up.
They beam through as a group, arriving in the batcave. It’s empty, as it should be. Bruce can at least be thankful that his children didn’t decide to ruin his plans. They’re being merciful. For now.
A series of gasps echo through the cave.
“It’s an actual cave?” Barry exclaims.
“This is… pretty big…” Ollie adds.
“Batman, what is it you wanted to show us?” Diana asks, ignoring her teammates.
Batman clears his throat, stepping forward. He keeps his eyes trained on the League. He wants them to understand that he’s being genuine. He’s trying to open up more. Over the years as a team, he’s begun to relax around them, but he’s never gone this far.
“As you all may know, I’ve had four partners who have taken up the mantle of Robin,” Bruce begins. The cave falls into an awaiting hush as everyone gathers round. “Most of you have met all of them. Some have only met a few. But, generally, you know of them. And recently, it’s been brought to my attention that many of you are concerned for the past Robins who have worn the suit before… in your perspective, disappearing.”
“Don’t tell me the new kid’s already gone,” Clark says. His face is ashen white. Bruce offers him a reassuring nod, but it only serves to make his anxiety worse.
“Robin’s fine,” he insists. “I just wanted you to see the past Robins. Meet them again, as they are now.”
Clark breathes a sigh of relief. Bruce knows he likes Dick. After all, Dick is enamoured by Superman and everything he stands for. He looks up to the hero, and who is Bruce to deny him the right to have a favorite uncle? It’s cute.
Bruce taps the communicator embedded into his suit on his wrist. It pings, telling him his signal’s been sent through. He takes a deep breath and braces himself. The boys will be here any moment now.
Dick arrives first. The door to the cave is hidden from view, but they can all still hear Dick’s lively chatter as he bursts through the door and bounds down the stairs. He’s got Tim by his side. Dick’s got his Superman pajamas on with a domino mask. He looks adorable. Tim’s in casual clothes as well, donning a domino mask of his own.
“Heya B!” Dick chirps, doing a series of cartwheels on his way over to Bruce’s side. “Whatcha want?”
Tim’s more wary of the League. He gives them a once over, frowns, and looks at Bruce.
“They haven’t brainwashed you, have they?” he asks.
“Of course not,” Bruce says, feeling slightly offended. As if the Justice League could brainwash him. They’d have to die trying.
Tim doesn’t look convinced, but he’s probably got about a bazillion sensors sizing Bruce up to diagnose him with some mind-controlling disease or another, so he doesn’t seem to panicked, either.
“Hi, Robin!” Clark says, leaning down. Dick takes the opportunity to use his back as a springboard and does a flip.
“Who’s this young man?” Diana asks gently, offering Tim her hand to shake.
He takes it after a long pause, and gives her a timid smile.
“I’m Red Robin,” he says.
The League seems to need a moment to process this.
“Red… Robin?” Barry repeats. “But there’s already a Robin. Doesn’t that get confusing?”
“Can do,” Tim says. He grins and ruffles Dick’s hair. “‘Specially with this one. Between me, Hood and Robin, there’s a lot of confusion.”
“Hood?” Ollie echoes. He looks a little pale. “Come to think of it, Roy’s been mentioning a ‘Hood’... I thought he was just talking about little red riding hood.”
Tim barks out a laugh. Dick giggles freely and even Bruce can’t stifle his own chuckle. The League stares.
As if on cue, a motorcycle zooms into the cave, its engine roaring in the dark, echoing space. Jason parks the bike next to the batmobile and saunters over.
“What’s up, old man?” he asks.
“I wanted to reintroduce the four of you to the Justice League,” Bruce explains.
“Uh, four? There are only three of them,” Barry points out.
“Big D’s on his way,” Jason says.
“Names,” Tim hisses, but Jason shrugs him off.
“It’s fine,” he says. “B’s gotta tell them our identities sometime soon.”
“So who are you?” Clark asks. “I feel like I recognize you…”
“The name’s Red Hood,” Jason says, sticking out a hand. Clark takes it, albeit with a great deal of anxiety.
“Like the criminal?” Barry asks. Bruce is surprised he’s even heard of Red Hood the criminal.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Jason says, totally uncaring. “I went a bit cray-cray. But it’s all good. I got better.”
Tim snorts as if to say, no, you didn’t. Jason shoots him a glare that doesn’t do much to shut him up.
By now, Damian’s arrived. He zetas in, catching the attention of the League. They part like the red sea to let Damian through.
“Father,” Damian greets, tone steely. “What is going on?”
One of the Leaguers choke on thin air. Bruce recognises it to be Clark. Maybe he’s already figured it out. Curse him and his reporter brain.
“I’m glad you came,” Bruce says instead of answering him.
He turns back to the League and is about to make his big announcement when Clark beats him to it.
“You’re the first Robin,” Clark blurts out, pointing at Damian.
Damian’s mask shifts, indicating a raised eyebrow. “Correct,” he says.
Bruce watches the League shift from confusion to shock.
“Wait,” Diana says, stepping forward. “Does that mean– which one of you is–”
“Hey, auntie Di,” Jason says, tugging his helmet off. He’s still wearing a domino mask beneath it, but Diana recognises him. She lets out a choked sob and rushes forward, elapsing Jason in what Bruce is sure must be a bone-crushing hug.
“You’re alive!” Diana breathes.
“Sure am,” Jason says. Under his breath, he mutters, “Took a helluva struggle, though…”
Diana pulls back, a frown riddling her features. “But… I thought… Batman said you died.”
“Huh?” Ollie, apparently, hasn’t connected the dots just yet.
“Hey, guys,” Jason says, sending the League a lazy wave. “I was the third Robin.”
Clark looks like he might spontaneously combust. He looks from Bruce to Jason to Dick to Damian and then finally, he settles on Tim.
“And you–” he starts.
“I was Robin number two,” Tim says.
Finally, finally, things seem to have been figured out. It’s a much quieter exchange than Bruce was expecting. No one is shouting, no one is crying – except from the slightest tears on Diana’s part – and no one’s fainted. Yet. He can’t be sure with the League’s dramatics.