Chapter Text
The month of December is the busiest for the whole clan, both for their civilian personas and for their vigilante personas. With the shopping frenzy that the lead-up to Christmas brings, crime rates soar so they’re usually out on the streets for much longer each night, far into the wee hours of the morning.
On top of that, the entire clan spends the majority of their daylight hours volunteering at various places around Gotham.
Bruce organises and runs clothing drives: providing suits for interviews and giving jackets and other clothes to the homeless; Selena helps out at the animal shelters (the ones that she and/or Damian aren’t banned from), Damian will join her if he has time; Cass and Dick won’t leave the orphanages, helping out there in any way and as much as they can; Jason helps out at the soup kitchens; Tim and Steph teach kids computer skills while trying (and mostly succeeding) to ignore the press; Surprisingly (or not, really), Damian has to be in a civil mood when he goes to childrens’ hospitals in uniform so the kids can meet the real Robin.
Despite this chaotic month of almost non-stop things to do, they all still manage to find time to spend together on Christmas, even if it just means crashing in the family room after a long (and often boring) patrol, so be it. Christmas this year is no different from the years prior. They arrive back at the Cave frozen all the way to their bones just as the sun is coming up.
Alfred has a tray of hot drinks - hot chocolate, no one’s allowed any caffeine this early in the morning - waiting for them. They all happily accept a mug after they have changed out (or mostly out) of their uniforms as they make their way upstairs to the Manor.
No one bothers to go all the way to their rooms that night, instead, they decide to just pile into the family room and crash.
All the kids (who aren't really kids anymore, who haven't really ever been) sprawl across the numerous sofas and beanbags, and across the carpeted floor.
Tim, Damian, Steph, Jason, Cass and Duke are already out like a light, Damian had attempted to deny he was tired as his eyelids were drooping. Dick wasn’t completely asleep, not yet, but he was close to it.
“Merry Christmas, B,” Dick muttered to Bruce from where he was sprawled out across an armchair.
“Merry Christmas, Dick,” Bruce told his oldest kid as he took a seat in the only part of a sofa that wasn’t covered by someone or someone’s body part.
Bruce is the only one who had managed to change out of his uniform completely, the others still have at least one part or half of their uniform still on.
Dick still had his pants on, Damian had his boots on with a set of civvies, Tim had almost all of his uniform on barring his domino while Jason was the opposite, Cass and Steph still had their uniform tops on with track pants, and Duke had his gloves and domino on with a set of civvies.
The overhead lights were off and the main sources of light were the early morning sun that was coming in through the windows and the lights on the Christmas tree that they had set up a weekend ago.
Bruce looked over his shoulder to see Alfred standing there with a camera.
“Another picture to add to the album, Master Bruce,” the butler told him in lieu of an explanation. His voice was just loud enough that Bruce could hear him but not loud enough to wake anyone.
“I guess so,” Bruce agreed, at the same volume. “Merry Christmas, Alfred,” he wished.
“Merry Christmas, sir,” Alfred returned before he left the family room for his own room, although there was no real point in him getting sleep now.
A few hours later, as the clock was just reaching 11 AM, some of the clan started to wake for the day. Dick was the second one up, it seemed, Damian was already awake and sat with his legs crossed on the sofa to the acrobat’s right, he had his sketchbook with him and was deeply immersed in whatever or whoever he was drawing.
“Merry Christmas, Dami,” Dick wished. That caused the boy to stop what he was doing and look up at his oldest brother.
“You took your time to wake,” Damian stated. “Merry Christmas, Richard,” he told him, after a moment.
“I’m going to see if Alfred needs any help, want to come?” Dick asked as he managed to get up from his strange position to leave for the kitchen.
Instead of saying anything, Damian shut his sketchbook and stood up to join him. The two ventured out of the family room and into the kitchen. Alfred was, as expected, found in the kitchen, the butler was already starting to prepare what their family considered a ‘Christmas Lunch’.
Years ago, from when Dick was Robin right up to Jason’s early days of wearing the cape, they used to try to have a proper traditional Christmas dinner; but they eventually gave up on that, instead opting for what they had now: a more laid-back lunch with a selection of all their favourite foods or foods that had importance to them.
Their more laid-back Christmas Lunch required less time than a traditional one would but with all the dishes needed to feed their whole family, their whole clan, still required a lot of time and preparation.
“Hey Alfred, need any help?” Dick asked as they entered the kitchen. The butler turned to see them when he spoke.
“Of course, young sirs,” Alfred confirmed. “Master Dick, can you finish off these potatoes and put them in the oven to roast; Master Damian, could you get started on the pudding?” he requested as he stepped aside from the potatoes to let Dick take over while Damian disappeared into the pantry for the ingredients for the pudding.
Over the course of the next half an hour to forty-five minutes the others slowly arrived in the kitchen from the family room. Steph was the next one, arriving in the space while rubbing sleep from her eyes, she was soon followed by Bruce, then Jason who looked much more awake than the rest of his siblings had, he was followed by Cass, and finally, just as the clock was nearing midday, Tim arrived in the kitchen, he looked absolutely dead.
By then, the kitchen was rather crowded, with almost everyone helping out now.
It was then that Alfred suggested (read: insisted) they go change into clothes that didn’t include part of their vigilante uniforms and were a little more formal. That took them even longer to get back downstairs again and actually start lunch, enough so that by the time they all sat down, it was nearing two PM.