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Chapter Text

Duke sat up in his bed and set aside the Physics homework he had been slaving away on for the past hour. It really wasn’t how he wanted to spend his post patrol free time, but the work was due in two days, and he was worried that if he didn’t get it done now, then he wouldn’t get it done at all.

Duke stretched his arms, but then sighed and pulled the textbook back onto his lap.

Just then, a knock came from his door. After Duke called out a quiet “Come in” the knob turned and Bruce poked his head in.

“Going on patrol, now.” He grunted, and Duke grinned. He had to admit that it felt good to know that Bruce cared enough to let him know when he was heading out.

“Sounds good. I’d watch the east corner of the Diamond District if I were you, I heard some whispers of something earlier.” he paused. “Call if you need help, I’m only working on some homework.”

Bruce eyed the open text book and pages of notes spread over Duke’s bed and sighed. “Good to know I have one responsible child,” he said and ducked out.

Now, this wasn’t too out of the norm. But there was something of Bruce’s words that seriously rubbed Duke the wrong way. No, it wasn’t that Bruce hadn’t acknowledged Duke’s offer of help. It was -

Being called responsible.

Duke frowned. He liked to think of himself as responsible, but it was the connotations that Bruce was implying. There had been several times over the past year that Duke was hailed as ‘the good child’ or ‘the sane one’ or ‘the well-behaved bat’ which if he were being honest, he didn’t think fit him at all.

Didn’t they think of the time he decided he could take on The Riddler by himself?

Or when he kept running away from foster homes to look for his parents?

Or became one of the Robins?

Or an official vigilante?

And one who wore bright yellow at that (though to be fair that was partly Bruce’s fault. Though Duke did keep the design when he revised it …).

And patrolled alone during the day!

Or when he disobeyed Bruce multiple times for so many reasons? One of the biggest when he didn’t tell him he suddenly got shadow powers?

Duke sighed. “I’m starting to believe Tim when he says that he’s the actual   World’s Greatest Detective.”

He liked Bruce and the family, and living in the Manor, he honestly did. But sometimes he wished he could be seen as something other than Bruce’s poorly thought out assumption.

But there wasn’t anything Duke could do about it. He was already one of the stranger members of the family, so it wasn’t like he could rebel a bit.

Wait, that was it!

Duke grinned as he grabbed his laptop from his bedside table and pulled it open, then quickly typing in what he was looking for. After a few minutes of search, Duke had hit the jackpot.

“Oh, this’ll be fun,” he said as he smirked down the screen, and what it read.

How To Become A Rebellious Teenager.

Chapter Text

It was four am on a Friday morning, a week after Duke had decided he’d had enough of Bruce’s - and the other’s - incorrect opinion of him.

It was so early in the morning, that the main group of bats had been trickling back from patrol over the past hour or so. Stephanie and Cassandra had arrived first, followed by Jason ten minutes later. Then Tim had gotten back from his route with Harper, and Kate and Bette had stopped by for a bit (but eventually left for their own homes). Dick came home next, and Bruce had returned last with Damian.

Everyone was in varying states of winding down, with Stephanie at one end of the spectrum wearing silk pajamas, a fluffy robe which Duke was sixty-seven percent sure was Bruce’s, and bright pink bunny slippers Duke was positive were Dick’s. On the other side, Bruce hadn’t even pulled off his cowl, and was sitting down in front of the Batcomputer to work on a case.

Though Duke thought that Tim deserved his own category, dressed in a strange combination of disco track suit and kevlar body armor, and was hunched over three cans of energy drinks and a quart jug filled with espresso shots.

Duke leaned down to double check that his boots were laced up - one time he hadn’t, and had then proceeded to trip and fall into a garbage pile. Not. Fun.

He looked up, however, when Bruce clicked open a case file. So did everyone else, as if drawn by some invisible force.

They all clearly saw as Bruce hovered his mouse over a link which had been typed in sometime while the big bat had been away. The only hint to what it could be was the note reading “New Evidence.”

Bruce grunted in what for anyone else would be an exclamation of curiosity and went to click the link.

Which clearly went to YouTube.

In unison, all the bats’ eyes widened in realization. You see, in a family such as this one, pranks abounded. So they all had painstakingly memorized that series of letters and numbers.

They all knew what it meant.

Suddenly, the Batcave lit up with the dancing form of one Rick Astley. It was everywhere. On the several large monitors that made up the Batcomputer. The various screens spread across the caves. Everyone’s phones somehow were affected. As well as the X-Ray machine in the med bay, which was showing a skeleton dancing.

Bruce jumped up, rage full on his face. “Who did this? Make it stop!”

No one answered, all too frozen in shock at what had happened.

“Who…” Dick whispered from beside Jason, “Who would be that brave?”

“Yeah,” Jason whispered back, “Rick Rolls were banned at the 2015 family reunion after you played it two hundred and thirteen times in a row.”

Dick grinned, “those were good times.”

The two eldest boys began to bicker, Jason complaining that Rick Rolls were a part of the war crimes banned by the Geneva Convention, and Dick saying he “liked it: so there.”

Meanwhile, the song was reaching the chorus, and the other bats finally began to react. The three girls were dancing on top of exercise equipment, popping bottles of sparkling cider - or was that champagne? For their own sakes, they should hope it’s the former - they had pulled out of what seemed to be thin air.

Damian was in the corner, trying to get Titus to dance to the music - though he glanced around every so often to make sure that no one was noticing his moment of fun.

Tim was still nursing his collection of drinks like an alcoholic nursed a bottle.

Bruce was practically foaming at the mouth by that point.

“This is NOT FUNNY!”

That, of course, made everyone just start laughing harder. In the corner, Steph started to do the macarena completely off-tempo from the music. Cass seemed to be chugging the cider that Harper was pouring into her mouth.

Just then the holographic training simulations lit up, and Rick Astly began making his way across the cave, dancing all the way.

Bruce glared up at the semi transparent form of the singer, as if trying to force him into submission.

“T-pose to assert dominance!” Jason called, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Yeah, that’ll totally work, B! Trust us!” Dick called as well.

Bruce took a moment to turn his head and glare at the two former Robins, who only smiled like the angels they clearly thought they were.

The image was not aided by the two giant stuffed swordfish just pulled from Jason’s utility belt.

“En guarde!” He cried, and tossed the one in his left hand at Damian, who had been trying to reassure his dog that the giant man wasn’t real. 

The thirteen year old screeched, but caught the four foot long fish by its fin.

“This is animal abuse!” He cried.

“It’s not abuse if it’s dead!” Jason countered, and attacked the youngest bat with a passion.

As the duel progressed, Cassandra tried to raise her hand and gurgle out a bet on who would win, but began to choke on the liquid.

Harper cursed as she tossed away the sixth bottle of cider and tried to give Cass the heimlich maneuver. 

Dick, meanwhile, pressed a button on one of the many consoles spread around the cave, and several stripper poles came out of hidden storage via hydraulics. He grabbed the nearest one, and began to dance.

“I THOUGHT I DISABLED THOSE?!” Bruce bellowed, as Dick began a twirl.

Stephanie, however, didn’t seem nearly as dismayed at the sight of the poles. She herself smacked a button next to her, and several disco balls dropped down from among the stalactites to join the fun. She then began to morph her macarena into an epic macarena. A few flips here, and a few pantomiming choking your enemies there. And a whole lot of randomly throwing glitter bombs at, well, everywhere.

But especially at the nearest authority figure.

Damian tripped over a bucket during his fight - apparently left over from Alfred’s earlier cleaning spree - and the soapy liquid spilled across the floor.

But, of course, them being the bats, Alfred didn’t use normal soap.

Huge bubbles began to farm from the liquid, the longest almost three feet in diameter, and rise up to the cave’s ceiling. The suds spread around, eagerly began to mingle with Stephanie’s glitter.

A solitary bubble, relatively small, floated over to Bruce’s head, and popped on one of his cowl’s ears. He was not amused.

*****

Five minutes later, everyone was lined up next to the Batcomputer with heads bowed in either shame or disappointment. 

Bruce walked up and down the row, the perfect imitation of a drill sergeant. His glare matched as well.

“This is an outrageous breach of protocol,” he was saying, “the Batcomputer is not a toy, nor something to use for your own amusement. It is a serious tool-”

“Then why’s it called the Batcomputer?”

Bruce froze and whirled on Dick, who had chosen that inopportune moment to speak up.

“Because you were nine years old and saying no to you would have gotten me a meltdown.”

“It seems to me, Bossman,” Stephanie began, tenting her fingers in an attempt to act serious (the effect was strange combined with her bathrobe and slippers) “That you are perfectly happy to let Dick get away with things. But in this situation, with women present, you are strangely cold. This shows blatant sexism on your part and in this essay I will-”

“That’s enough, Stephanie.” Bruce cut off as a round of snorts and giggle erupted from the group of bats.

“You do realise that no one here is going to speak, right?” Jason asked, “You did teach us to resist torture. And - pardon my french, Alfred - but you are no fucking way close to the level of torture I’ve gone through. Namely waking up to Batcow sitting on top of me.”

“Are you commenting on her weight?” Damian demanded, glaring daggers at Jason.

“I said no such thing.”

“ Boys .” Bruce demanded, rubbing his temples. “Jason is right - not about Batcow’s weight - but I’m not going to get any of you to talk willingly.” He paused and made eye contact with every single bat present, trying to reach into their souls.

“Therefore,” he continued slowly, “I’m giving you one last chance. Otherwise: No one gets cookies from Alfred for two months. ”

The shock was immediate. Alfred’s cookies, of all kinds, were worth more than gold in the Manor. The ability to not have them? And for two months? Bruce truly was a cruel hearted tyrant if he was willing to go to such lengths.

Duke gulped.

“Fine, then.” Bruce said simply when no one answered. “I guess we’ll just have to check the security footage of the Cave.”

Why didn’t Bruce think of that earlier? He clearly wasn’t trying to give the kids an easy way out.

Bruce stalked over to the computer and began to furiously type at the keys, pulling up the footage for the past few days. The group watched in a tense silence as Bruce rifled through the multiple recordings, searching for the culprit.

“AHA!” Bruce grunted, upon finding a specific time stamp. There was a figure emerging from the shadows. He paused and then slowed down the video so they could all see who it was.

There were several gasps as the figure came into the light, looked around, and made his way to the computer. They had shown their face, not even bothering to hide.

Everyone whirled to Duke, then back to the screen.

“No way,” Harper whispered under her breath.

Because the person on the footage, who was now adding the link to the case file and hooking up bluetooth speakers, was Duke Thomas himself.

Bruce’s eye twitched.

There was a general consensus among the resident vigilantes in the cave at that time: Duke wasn’t going to live to tell the tale.

Duke felt uneasy under their scrutiny, unsure of what to do. This was his plan, after all. To be seen differently. But so far the lack of accusations or uproarious debate was disconcerting.

He looked up at Bruce, awaiting his reaction. Bruce didn’t meet Duke’s eyes.

“Hrn,” he grumbled angrily instead and whirled on Tim. Said teenager was barely standing up straight - well, he was leaning on Steph heavily - and blinked wearily around the cave. He didn’t seem to understand what was going on.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed for a long moment before he whipped around and furiously began to mess with the playback settings on the footage. Everyone stood still, not daring to move while Bruce grumbled under his breath.

Finally Bruce straightened and pointed dramatically toward the screen. 

“There,” he grunted out, and everyone subconsciously leaned a little bit forward.

They didn’t see anything different from before, though Bruce’s finger did bring their attention to one of the bats that flew across the upper left hand corner. A few seconds of footage later, and yet another bat flew across in a similar pattern. Not exactly the same, so it wasn’t really out of the ordinary. Lord knows the bats would randomly fly out and into their hair much more than necessary.

“Note how the figure is disturbed when each bat flies across the screen,” Bruce said in the same voice he used when talking about a case - cold, impersonal, and yet like he was giving a college lecture.

No one spoke, not really sure what to say. I mean, what was the correct course of action when your father figure suddenly refuses to accept reality, and is grasping at the most unlikely of straws?

“I know this technique anywhere,” Bruce said more to himself than the line of vigilantes. He turned, completely passing over Duke, and set his sights on Tim.

“Timothy Jackson Drake,” Bruce growled, stalking forward, “What possessed you to doctor this footage?”

Tim didn’t respond, only mumbled incoherently and leaned onto Steph some more.

Bruce was furious, bearing his teeth as he spat out his response: “Now is not the time to use the anti-torture training I’ve given you.”

Tim nodded slowly and draped his arm on top of Stephanie’s head. 

“You should know better than this,” Bruce began, “pranks are strictly forbidden in the cave, as you very well know. And in addition, I taught you better at framing than this. You choose a victim that could actually be considered as a suspect. Trying to pin the blame on Duke was your undoing - he would never do something like this.”

Duke cringed slightly, as the rest of the bats glanced Duke’s way. All were a mix of confusion and awe.

This … was not how this was supposed to go. No, screw that. That was an outrageous understatement. Things ‘not going according to plan’ would have been Jason randomly blaming Harper for the mess on no grounds - or maybe Bruce not bothering to check the cameras, opting instead to just ground everyone.

But blatantly ignoring evidence and then lecturing someone completely unrelated? No, this was too much. It couldn’t be real. This was some kind of scare-tactic wasn’t it? Duke was too much of an adrenaline junkie to be bothered by the usual ‘hanging upside down over a busy road’ schtick.

But then Bruce moves on to possible culprits Tim could have chosen instead - did he seriously think that Ra’s Al Ghul would Rick Roll them?! - and Duke lost hope.

“Uhh, Bruce?” Duke asked after the ten minute mark. 

The Dark Knight turned and faced Duke.

Duke scratched the back of his neck. “Do you think I could head out for patrol now? It’s getting light out, and since you’ve clearly got this covered… I thought I could scoot out?”

Bruce was nodding before the end of Duke’s request. “Yes, go. I’ll deal with Tim. You don’t need to worry - you won’t be blamed. It clearly wasn’t your fault.”

Duke nodded slowly, and covered his disappointment with a small smirk. “Thanks, B.”

He jogged over to the edge of the platform and dropped down beside his Signal-Cycle. A routine mounting, a quick putting on of his helmet, and he was off.

Duke was scowling as he left, wondering what on earth had gone wrong.

*****

“Did you see that smirk?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Did he blame Tim on purpose?”

“How, though? To make such a tactical move -”

“It would have taken a shit ton of planning.”

“Can we get back on the fact that Bruce was fooled?”

“Or who fooled him?!”

Chapter Text

Duke frowned down at his empty pad of paper, trying to brainstorm. It had been a mere twelve hours since the failed Rick Roll (though, the Rick Roll itself wasn’t a fail. Duke would be daydreaming about the chaos for years to come), and the day shift bat was itching for a way to make up for it. 

Alas, the creative juices were not flowing that day. Duke had tried everything - taking a walk, training, meditation, writer’s sprint, and even resorting to watching prank compilations on YouTube. But nothing worked. So, he found himself watching the target Bat - Bruce - in his “natural habitat.”

Also known as the living room, mid lecture.

“But I don’t know what I did!” Tim pleaded desperately, trying to convey to Bruce his confusion.

Bruce shook his head. “No, you do, Tim. Dick told me you all will appeal to my affection to get out of the consequences for your actions -” wow, Duke remembered Dick using that exact tactic just yesterday, and it worked - “So I will not allow you to shirk the punishment.”

Tim groaned. “This is tyranny! I’m an emancipated minor, I don’t need to deal with this.”

“Actually, yes you do. You will be doing chores for Alfred for the next two weeks, and you aren’t allowed to run off to Mount Justice.”

“Then at least tell me what I did wrong!” Tim cried, throwing his hands up in the air. Bruce rubbed his temples, then glanced briefly at Duke.

“You know what you did, and how it affected those around you. And you’re grounded because of it. No room for arguments. Now go work on the sprinklers, Alfred has mentioned they’ve been finicky.”

Tim scoffed and stalked out, soon after followed by Bruce.

Duke considered relocating as well - he couldn’t very well observe Bruce if said wild furry wasn’t present. But something about that conversation that sent a light shiver up Duke’s spine, some small spark of inspiration.

An idea began to form in his mind, and Duke smiled slowly.

*****

“For all Bruce’s waxing poetic on the merits of high tech stuff, this pipe organization is seriously ancient,” Duke muttered under his breath as he glanced from the blueprints he had secured to the mess of pipes and spigots and nozzles in front of him.

Though to be fair, this wasn’t the Batcave. Duke was in the basement of Wayne Manor - yes, he was just as surprised to find they actually had one of those that wasn’t dedicated to the dark and mystique training of Gotham’s Protectors. And impromptu Mario Kart challenges, because as Tim had once told Duke “We all know that’s the real reason Bruce got a giant computer setup.”

Duke cursed softly under his breath when he dropped a wrench that began to clang around in the messy cage of metal. He set the blueprints aside atop the gallons of paint he had chosen, and reached around and down to get the wrench. When he came back up, he found himself face to face with his sister Cassandra.

Oh shit, Duke thought, as he tried to figure out how to cover for what he was doing in the plumbing of the Manor.

Cass squinted at him and, not for the first time, Duke felt like he was an onion trapped beneath her gaze, slowly being peeled back layer by layer till the young woman before him knew every little detail about him. Every thought or plan he ever had.

Duke began to sweat, unable to keep his panic under wraps. Cass was scarier than Bruce, that was just a fact. 

Cass tilted her head a fraction of an inch, and Duke thought he was a dead man. But, much to his relief and confusion, Cass shrugged and turned. She walked lightheartedly out of the basement and to the stairs, whistling tunelessly as she went.

Duke pursed his lips, not quite sure why Cass had come down to the basement, only to look into his soul, shrug, and leave. 

But that didn’t matter right now. As Bruce would say, “The mission comes first.”

*****

As all members of the Wayne family knew, the Library was one of the best places, period. Aside from the living room which was always a mess of pillows, bean bags, inflatable dinosaurs, spare semi-automatic weaponry and knives, the Library was the most personal room in the expansive home that was the Manor. Sure, it was cleaner and home to fewer surprise nerf gun fights, but It still had an air of warmth about it. It was the place that they would go to to rest after a difficult patrol. Where you could find Jason reading some book in a corner, Tim busy with WE work at the large table, Damian trying to teach Alfred the Cat and Titus to read picture books, Cass and Steph trying to be subtle about playing poker (which had been banned last week). Dick would always be trying to decide what to read and but he would never actually succeed, Bruce would sit in his tall armchair in the corner overlooking every small detail of his children with a not-quick-smile-but-pretty-darn-close on his face. 

Duke himself also had his own spot that he would work on writing poetry, or just surf Tumblr. It was a window seat at the far side of the library which was technically big enough for three people, but Duke had a strict policy that it was his and his alone and no he totally wasn’t bullied by Cass that one time to snuggle. Why on Earth would you ever consider such a thing?

It was in this spot now that Duke was situated, though he was not alone. Titus - yes, Damian’s dog - was draped across his lap. Now, Duke didn’t mean to steal his little brother’s pets, but it just happened. Titus was in need of snuggles or belly rubs when Damian was away with Jon or on patrol at night, and Duke just happened to be the only one that said canine could bully into granting him.

Thankfully, like all bats were, Duke was a multi-tasker. He wasn’t put off by having to scratch a dog behind the ears whilst simultaneously checking the twelve blinking dots on his laptop screen that represented his family members. 

Duke stared intensely at the diagram of the Manor as all the dots slowed down and finally stayed in their predetermined positions. Huh, Tim was right. Stalking family members did pay off!

The dots suddenly stopped blinking, and Duke snapped out of his self congratulations. It was go time . He switched windows, then quickly pulled out his phone and pressed a button.

There were several screams that echoed throughout the ancient halls, those screams spoke of terror and surprise, and passed along the message that something was very, very wrong in the world. The status quo had been broken, and there was no returning from this.

Duke smirked down at his computer, where a dozen different squares displayed camera footage of the real time happenings of the Manor. Said footage was showing several members of Duke’s family drenched in paint. The same paint that Duke had meticulously divided and poured into the ceiling sprinkling system that the Manor had for some totally-not-plot-related reason. The same paint which had been primed and ready to be sprayed out of the spigots coating each bat with the perfectly calculated, even layer.

The paint had just finished being deployed, and yet several people were for some reason trying to fight it off like it was an attacker. Duke noticed that the swinging of bo staffs, AK-47’s and katanas were altogether unsuccessful. Honestly, the people who were standing completely still in shock, or who were trying to shake off the paint were having much better luck.

But then everyone finally realised that they weren’t being sprayed anymore, and a collective sigh spread out across the Manor. The onslaught was done, and they could finally gather together and grab the pitchforks to hunt down the responsible party.

It was then that the glitter was deployed.

The chaos immediately multiplied tenfold, and the screams sounded up again. The air was filled with the sparkly dust that was way too thin to swat away. (No, Duke totally didn’t spend extra time researching to find the world’s finest glitter)

Duke was outright laughing at this point, so hard that he almost fell off the window seat. Titus barked suddenly, and Duke sobered enough to get back upright and watch the finishing up of the chaos. He had to admit, this felt wonderful. If he had to describe his current state of thrill in two words, he would have admitted that he felt altogether too close to the Hellmo Meme.

Unfortunately, Duke was not Stephanie, and ran out of glitter eventually. The vents stopped blasting the film of fairy dust, and the bats were given a reprieve.

Though the break was short lived, as just then, Bruce’s loud bellow sounded throughout the giant house.

“ALL OF YOU GET IN HERE!”

Duke chuckled as he scooched Titus over and set his laptop to the side so he could get up. This was all working perfectly! He’d arrive at Bruce's interrogation completely free from all paint or glitter, which would immediately prove his guilt. And if that didn’t work, then he supposed he could outright confess. But that wasn’t the point of this. The point was for Bruce to come to the conclusion on his own.

He walked down the hall, completely carefree. So happy and confident in his own abilities that he never even noticed that Cassandra’s paint or glitter didn’t go off. That she wasn’t even present where the tracker he had subtly placed on her earlier that day said she was.

*****

Duke hummed to himself as he skipped along the carpet, past the antique vases and random finger paintings, past the drawing rooms and bathrooms, and towards Bruce. All was quiet.

Though that began to trouble Duke, as he got closer to one of the rooms which was very special. It was where Cass had been situated, playing with Selina’s cat Isis, for the past hour. Now, Cassandra was quiet, sure. But not that quiet. And besides, wouldn’t the cat be screeching right about now? Cass didn’t seem like the person to give a nerve hit to an animal just because it was being loud ( cough Jason cough ).

He slowly entered the room and looked around, but was surprised to find it completely empty. Not just of girl and cat, but of paint and glitter too.

“You were mistaken.”

Duke whirled around to find Cass sitting in an armchair, wrapped in shadows, and stroking Isis in a manner not altogether different from that of an Evil Mastermind™.

“Uh…” Duke replied, “about what?”

Cass smirked, and Duke felt a shiver run up his spine. “Actions have consequences. ”

Duke frowned. Wait, what? He glanced around again, trying to figure out what Cass meant. On a surface level he understood, but there was something about the way Cass was eyeing him that told him something else was up.

The only thing he could find that was out of the ordinary, however, was the camera he had placed just yesterday. Huh, now that he thought about it, he was at just the right angle to see it. Which meant he was in direct view of the camera itself. Pretty darn to close to where he had been planning Cass would stand, actually.

Then a faint spitting noise came from above him.

Oh.

*****

Duke trudged forlornly into the room where the rest of the bats - except Cassandra, who had disappeared after the glitter had deployed onto Duke - had gathered. He was one of the last to arrive, muttering curses under his breath, so all eyes were on him as he opened the door and joined them.

Though that also meant that Duke could see them. He had to admit, that as disappointed as he was, it was still hard to keep a grin from spreading across his face. Boy, he had done a great job with color coordination, hadn’t he?

Bruce was front and center, covered in a dark gray paint which had the sheen of yellow glitter. Dick had black paint completely covering him (much more than Duke planned. Did Dick roll in the stuff?) along with blue glitter. Jason had both red paint and glitter on him. Tim had started off with a lighter colored paint - this time red - and then the look was finished by black glitter. Damian looked like a small Christmas tree in his green paint and red glitter. Harper had blue paint then covered in purple glitter, both of which were the exact shades of her hair. Duke wasn’t a monster ; he knew how to match colors. 

The cousins - both honorary and actually - had also been present. Bette had been appropriately targeted with a flaming orange and gold combination. Kate had black paint and, instead of red, Duke had picked a rainbow glitter for her. From the slight glint in her eye, Duke supposed he had chosen correctly. Jean-Paul had been doused in yellow paint and red glitter, and he honestly looked like a very large and human shaped version of his sword. Luke was covered in silver paint and an electric blue glitter.

Bruce, however, didn’t give Duke a second glance, covered in yellow paint and black glitter (which had been meant for Cass, but honestly, it fit Duke quite well), though he was.

“Good, now we just have to wait for Steph,” Tim remarked, rolling his eyes.

Duke frowned. “What about Cass? She’s here too.”

Everyone gave Duke a weird look. “Uh, no she isn’t. She’s been hanging out with Selina and Babs all weekend.”

“Then your intel is wrong,” Duke countered. “She was just here! I planned on her being here!”

The silence in the room was palpable. Before, where there had been bickering and accusations, the quiet had taken over. Everyone stared at Duke with suspicion in their eyes.

Finally, Duke thought, sighing in relief.

Bruce opened his mouth about to question Duke’s statement when the doors to the room banged open.

“What’s up, Bitches? The Waffle Queen has arrived and looks as fabulous as ever!”

Duke stared, completely amazed that she actually seemed to like the purple on purple combo Duke had picked for her. Oh, yeah, now that he thought about it made perfect sense that Steph was the only one to like this.

“Wow, whoever did this really got my colors right!" Steph continued as she waltzed in and posed in front of everyone, her hip cocked and arm thrown up dramatically.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed, and he began to growl at her. “This is not funny.”

Steph pouted. “What do you mean? I sure think it is!”

Oh boy, she didn’t notice she was digging her own grave, did she? From the looks of the other bats, they shared Duke’s sentiment.

“Stephanie Brown, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Stephanie smirked. “Yup! I look way better than you, you old fur- hey wait! Are you blaming me ?!”

Bruce glared even harder, and Stephanie started to protest, claiming that she was but an innocent victim of these pain-filled proceedings! It was not her fault! Nor was it her fault that she happened to get colors that she liked better than everyone else.

Bruce refused to hear what she said, and told her to go get changed. “You will be cleaning up this whole mess, and no patrolling until it’s done.”

Bruce turned and stalked out, and Steph was left speechless - for once - in the hall. She backed away, seeing the angry stares from the others. The only one who didn’t seem mad at her, was Duke himself. He opened his eyes wide, conveying pity. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed silently.

Instead of being reassuring, however, Steph squinted in suspicion. Oh shit, that probably hadn’t been the best move.

Just moments after Steph left, Jason threw up his hands. “Okay, who wants to have a water gun fight to clean off?”

There were several cheers of assent, but Duke quickly made his own escape at that time. He honestly wasn’t in the mood to get splashed in the face with water. Now was not the time for fun, as the failed prank still hung over him.

Now was the time for plotting.

*****

“Okay, but why on earth do you have a fully functioning sprinkler system in every room?”

“Yeah, Bruce, even for you that’s paranoid! What caused you to think that was necessary?”

“You.”

Chapter Text

Ah, Cheerios, the best kind of breakfast cereal. Duke just didn’t get why people seemed to hate them so much. They weren’t bland, they just had a nice even subtle oat flavor which was refreshing compared to all the intensely sweet sugary crap that Dick kept attempting to sneak in past Alfred. And they were so delicious with milk! Of course, they were also fantastic when you added things to them as well, like a light drizzle of honey, or a small handful of granola. If you were feeling especially adventurous - or if Damian was the one to go shopping with Alfred and therefore got the choice in what was bought that week - you could even have it with some unsweetened vanilla oat milk.

“But does that count as a subset of cannibalism?” Duke wondered aloud between bites of cereal.

He took another bite thoughtfully and hopped down from the island in the middle of the kitchen to make his way out the door and down the hall. Alfred was away for the weekend (Tim had mentioned something about regaining his honor in a pie baking duel with Ma Kent? Duke wasn’t sure.) so he wouldn’t get in trouble.

Not that he ever got in trouble. For some reason.

Duke angrily crunched down on another spoonful when a sudden banging around came from the ceiling above him. Duke froze, suddenly terrified. What was it? Aliens? Did Alfred (The Cat) finally figure out how to phase through walls? Were some of the skeletons (which Jason had warned Duke he stored in the drywall) finally reanimate and were slowly crawling out, in a slow determined quest for revenge?

As the opening to the air vent just a few feet ahead banged open, releasing a lone figure, Duke was dismayed to find it was not, in fact, some fantastical being or occurrence.

It was just Steph.

Duke quickly finished eating the spoonful of Cheerios and chewed as he waved a greeting with his spoon.

Stephanie, who was completely covered in glitter and carrying a feather duster, glared daggers at Duke and slowly, methodically, drew the duster across her throat.

Duke swallowed heavily and cringed. Ah, it probably would be in his best interest to avoid blaming the purple clothed bandit for any of his pranks in the future.

*****

For the second time that day, Duke found himself in the kitchen of Wayne Manor. Though this time, instead of pondering the moral and psychological repercussions of eating his cereal with oat milk, the teen was having a pre workout snack with his younger brother.

“Add more whipped cream, Thomas,” Damian advised, passing Duke the can. “Dairy is protein, and protein is essential to proper nutrition.”

Duke took the can with a grin, and added a more generous than necessary squirt to the top. 

“Alright Dami,” Duke said as he set aside the can, “But you need to be sure to add more than one cherry. Fruit is good for you, you know.”

Damian sniffed superiorly and delicately pulled out three maraschino cherries from the fancy jar than Alfred kept in the pantry. He then placed them precariously on top of the summet of his ice cream sundae mountain.

Duke held up his spoon in front of Damian. “Shall we dig in?”

Damian grinned - a rare occurrence which took the years off of his face, allowing him to truly look like a child. Duke quietly celebrated, ever since he first saw Damian smile at him, he had made it his mission to make his younger brother happier more often.

They clinked their spoons together, and dug into their huge deserts. It was a good thing that Alfred wasn’t home at the moment, or the old Butler would have an aneurysm at the amount of sugar they were putting into their bodies. But oh well, they deserved it for the training session that they’d be taking part in later that afternoon.

It wasn’t often that Bruce had enough time to do a full workout session with any of his kids, let alone something smaller like a one on one thing, or him and a few others. Duke had only gotten this privilege during his first year of staying with the Waynes, and at the time, when he was futilely trying to kick down trees in the yard, he hadn’t understood why such a thing was coveted by his siblings. 

But now he did, so he completely understood Damian’s excitement when the thirteen year old had animatedly informed him that because all the others were gone from the city that day, only he and Duke would be present for the training session. So of course Duke suggested making a special treat in preparation.

They were at the very bottom of their large bowls of ice cream when Bruce walked into the kitchen carrying his large jug of water.

“Are you boys ready for today?” Bruce asked, and Duke and Damian grinned.

“Of course, Father. We have been preparing extensively for the past half hour.”

Bruce eyed the empty bowls in front of each of his sons, and grunted. “And sprinkles helped you do that?”

Duke scoffed. “Of course, B. Didn't you know that?”

Bruce looked skeptical, so Damian butted in. “Father, Pennyworth is always informing you to eat your colors. You americans eat such bland food, all tans and grays. Surely compact fluorescent bites are the best way to remedy such a problem.”

Bruce squinted, but didn’t seem in the mood to argue, so he turned around and began to leave the kitchen. “Just be in my study in twenty minutes.”

Behind him, Duke offered a fist bump to his partner in crime. Damian accepted with a smirk.

*****

“Please tell me I’m not late!” Duke exclaimed as he rushed into Bruce’s study.

Bruce and Damian were over by the clock, looking as if they were about to input the time. Duke heaved a sigh of relief at that. Being late to a training session was a mortal sin in the Manor. Or at least, that’s what Jason told him. He said it was the reason he had died (something about Bruce kicking him out, which made him go to Ethiopia for some money an old rich uncle of his had left him, and then the Joker catching wind and tried to rob him, which somehow ended in with him, a warehouse, and a crow bar).

Suffice it to say, Duke made it his mission to never be late to a training session. Ever.

“Tt, Thomas,” Damian remarked, turning back to the clock. “You were cutting it close.”

Bruce sighed. “You’re fine Duke.”

Duke nodded and took his place right behind Damian. The boy huffed in a satisfied manner and crossed his arms.

“Any day now, Father. Unlike you, my time is precious.”

Translation: Damian was excited, and tired of waiting.

Bruce frowned as he spun the arms of the clock again. “The clock is broken.”

Duke raised his eyebrows. “Wow, that couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that it’s really just a door, right?”

Bruce frowned back at the face of the grandfather clock, not bothered by Duke’s incredibly funny remark.

A few seconds later, Duke tried again. “Bruce, what’s wrong?”

Bruce’s eyes were narrowed to slits by now, and his brow furrowed in concentration. “The entrance is malfunctioning. I want you boys to go around and check the others. Including Stephanie’s smuggling tunnel.”

Duke blinked. “Stephanie’s what now?”

Bruce made a shooing gesture with his hand. “Yes, I know about that. Now go.”

Duke and Damian looked at each other, shrugged, then left the room. Might as well do what Bruce says. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner they could work out. Plus they were sort of curious to know what was going on. Neither of them knew, they were innocent! Especially Duke.

Fifteen minutes later, and the trio reconvened in the study once more. Bruce looked angry, Duke looked confused, and Damian was positively fuming.

“This is outrageous!” He cried, as soon as he entered after Duke. “None of the entrances are working! I even attempted to use imaginative means to enter, and nothing worked!”

Bruce’s grim look receded for just a moment. “I’ll let Barbara know she did a wonderful job shoring up the security if even my children can’t get in.”

Damian scowled. “What’s the point of making security that we can’t get into?”

Bruce closed his eyes for three long, tired seconds.

“Anyway!” Duke said, “They aren’t allowing access. Any theories? Or should we just get Tim?”

Damian looked appalled at the idea. “Father!” he cried, “you can’t call Timothy! He will be unable to operate at maximum capacity if he does not complete the weekend of so-called relaxation with the clone at the Kents’ farm.”

“So second best option?” Duke asked.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “I hope you don’t let Barbara hear that when she gets here.”

*****

“Hhmmmm.”

Duke, Bruce, and Damian cringed in unison at Barbara’s contemplative noise. The young woman was typing on a laptop plugged into some kind of control panel in Bruce’s office. She hadn’t spoken to them more than first greetings  when she had arrived, so they were left in the dark while she rifled through the Cave’s security system.

Finally, Babs closed the computer and set it to the side. Duke and the others held their collective breath.

“The Cave is registering you as already present inside,” Barbara explained, “Actually, it says that everyone is in the Cave right now.”

Bruce was still and silent, considering Barbara’s words. Damian, on the other hand, seemed to be an inch away from having a meltdown.

“This is preposterous!” He blustered, whipping about and glaring, not having any particular target. “The system is trash, I said we should have fixed it ages ago! And now look at the outcome! I must remain at peak physical capacity, and I am not able to if I miss even a single session! Father, I demand you fix this!”

“Woah, dude, chill,” Duke soothed, resting a hand on Damian’s shoulder. Thankfully, the kid didn’t bite him. “I know you're frustrated, but we work more effectively when calm, right?”

Damian blinked, and glared at Duke for a long moment. “You are not incorrect, Thomas.” Damian finally allowed, turning away.

Barbara smiled. “Well, good news: I can get you in. It’s probably a good idea to call for back-up and wait till you have the forces to-”

“That won’t be necessary,” Bruce interrupted, his eye twitching at the glare Babs threw his way. “We can handle it - right, boys?”

Damian sniffed proudly and produced some knives from who knows where. Duke nodded confidently.

Bruce grunted, and motioned for them to fall in line behind him. Barbara watched with her precise gaze as Bruce, Duke, and Damian made their way down the stairs. They didn’t turn the lights on, going for optimal stealth as were, and moved slowly downward.

“Don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious,” Duke sang under his breath a little ways after the halfway point down the stairs.

“Making noise is very suspicious, Thomas.” Damian muttered.

“Quiet, Boys,” Bruce snapped before Duke could make a comeback, “We’re almost there.”

As soon as the doors to the Cave opened, they scattered and melted into the shadows. Duke just managed to see Damian crawl up the side of the cave wall, but didn’t see where Bruce went. He didn’t have much time to worry about that, though, as he was hiding himself among equipment that lined the sides of the space. 

The path he had chosen gave him an easy pass to circle the main platform, and gage the situation. And boy was it a situation. Because, you see, like Barbara said, they were not the only ones in the cave. They were just the only sentient ones.

The elevator dinged, and Barbara rolled out and into the light. “Are those Manikins?” She asked, incredulous.

*****

Duke smirked proudly at the sight before him, the same sight that left the others outraged and confused

Someone, somehow (It was Duke, and through much hard labour during some time while the bats were actually asleep - he got someone to cover his patrol, this bright young girl called Maps to do it. She said she was a friend of Damian’s, and quite skilled with a grappling hook. Tim had mentioned her before, so Duke wasn’t surprised.) managed to get dozens of manikins - those hyper mobile ones that you can personalise their positions - and spread them out across the cave.  And not just that, they had managed to stylize them after each member of the family.

The manikins also seemed to be moving around at preset speeds, through some mysterious robotic means (Duke mentally thanked the stars that Bruce didn’t bat an eye at someone purchasing thirty roombas with his credit card.).

The first manikin, the one that caught everyone’s eye, was clearly meant to represent Stephanie. It was doused in complete purple, the exact shade of her suit and automated to throw the glitter bombs stored in a sack by its side at seemingly everything - though apparently mainly at the nearest authority figure.

Said authority figure was obviously Bruce, who was moving slowly in wide arcs around the chaos. It was wearing one of those ghost costumes, (you know the ones with just a sheet and cut out holes? Yeah, that’s Bruce.) except with a black sheet. And two plastic forks taped to either side of the head to imitate Bat ears. Though by this point it was also covered in purple glitter, thanks to Steph.

Somehow, the figure right next to Bruce was completely untouched by the purple sparkles, despite wearing the exact same outfit as Bruce’s manikin, plastic forks and all. (Although to be fair, this one was significantly shorter.) Though this mystery could easily be solved by the fact that it was Cass. Well, that explains pretty much everything, actually.

Nearest to Bruce and his mini-me at that point in the rotation was a toddler sized, bright green manikin that represented none other than the current Robin. And if that weren’t enough, think of Edward Scissor Hands. Now imagine those knives and blades and such taped over the whole body. Now you have an accurate picture of Damian Wayne in Manikin form. Honestly, it wasn’t that far off.

Humans weren’t the only things replaced in the Cave, as just by Damian were little dog, cat, and cow statues. And a giant bat stuffie colored red.

Bruce’s manikin had to stop it’s wide arc and jerk suddenly to the side to avoid the next member of the family. Tim Drake’s stand-in was barely visible underneath the six foot tall pile of bulk coffee bean bags stacked around it. 

Right behind Tim was a large manikin painted blood red, wearing a faux pink leather jacket with sparkles and rhinestones glued it. It looked like it was meant for a six year old girl. What didn’t look like it was meant for a child, though, were the strips of ammunition draped across its shoulders like a fancy scarf. The look was completed by a large red bucket dumped haphazardly over the head of the manikin.

To the side of the Cave, just barely out of the war path that was The Red Bucket, was something different. Instead of a manikin like you would find in the clothing store, a halloween decoration was set up. And not just any decoration: A life-sized recreation of Dracula that looked so cheap, it was probably bought at Party City for ten bucks. (Hey, it was on sale! Duke wasn’t one to ignore such a spectacular bargain!). The only thing customized about it was the cheap, long, cherry red wig perched precariously on its head. Hey, everyone always said Kate looked an awful lot like a vampire!

The simplest manikin was somehow one of the most recognizable. Painted plain white, it was mostly unadorned with the exception of “007” painted across the chest in big, black, block letters. Now who could that be? It wasn’t like the Bats casually knew a british spy. 

But all of that is fairly sane, compared to the … others.

In one corner of the room, a manikin was on fire. Completely on fire. The blaze was huge. Somehow, the manikin itself wasn’t on fire, though. One got the impression that it was supposed to be reminiscent of the burning bush story, or perhaps a phoenix. Ha, phoenix. Flamebird. Duke hoped he wasn’t the only one who found that funny.

Dick’s was on a complicated zip line pulley type system thingy. It was upside down and twisted into a pretzel for a bit, then it reached a checkpoint and was replaced by a new “Dick” in a different position. It looks like Dick’s doing mid air acrobatics. Oh, and he’s wearing a crop top that said “I’m A Dick.”

There was yet another all-green manikin seated on a hover chair that looked suspiciously like alien tech taken from the Watchtower. There was a face drawn on, and it was emulating the Oracle Symbol.

Hidden amongst the shadows in the corner was another manikin, barely within sight. It was resting luxuriously in a clawfoot bathtub, which was filled with jewels of all kinds. Upon its shoulders were multiple cat stuffed animals.

Everyone was suddenly shaken out of their stunned staring when the Cave’s sound system flared up, blasting dramatic choral music. It was the perfect track for the perfect moment, building up tension to an uproar as the lights dimmed slightly, and all attention was brought on the crackling of lightning arcing across a new figure, who was rounding the bend.

Duke grinned at his crowning achievement, the one that is easily the most terrifying. The one that is undoubtedly the Taser Girl herself: Harper Row.

What made this one different? Well, that’s because Harper was not, in fact, a manikin. Instead, the figure was not unlike a stick figure made completely out of metal pipes. The bottom was attached to an encased roomba which was currently going in wide, swooping arcs. The arms are raised triumphantly overhead. (Duke may or may not have spent three hours in front of the Hellmo meme, making sure that it was perfect). And, of course, it was conducting bright blue crackling electricity. (Duke had gotten the idea from one of those science experiment things that is made of lightning, and will every so often shoot a bolt and light something on fire. Minus the fire part. He didn’t have a death wish .)

It was just then that some lightning arced out and set an extra manikin that had been lying about on fire.

Duke cringed internally, but his mood wasn’t dampened for long. He took one look at the other Bats present, and muffled a snort of amusement. They were positively shocked - even Babs! That in and of itself was an utter victory for Duke. It got even better when they slowly separated and began to wander the Cave in wonder and horror. Duke split off as well, and hid behind the Dinosaur.

He almost tripped, however, on one of the babies. Yeah, Babies. Around the legs of the dinosaur, on their own roombas, were inflatable versions of the giant T-Rex. Somehow (maaaaybe with a touch of fiddling with controls), they were even faster than the moving people. They were zipping around and crashing into each other. When Duke hit one, though, it activated a system he had put in place which suddenly unleashed a gigantic roar throughout the Cave via the soundsystem.

The Dinosaurs weren’t the only extra addition to the native wildlife, though. Bats, hundreds of them, were replaced with stuffed animal versions of themselves, and painstakingly hung from string to the stalactites at the top of the cave, like a giant mobile.

Duke peaked out from the side of the wide space where he had been inspecting his own work to gage the situation with the other members of his family. The shock seemed to have worn off by that point, replaced with mixed reactions. Bruce was growing increasingly frustrated, Babs was trying not to laugh, and Damian was secretly pleased, enjoying the look on his father’s face.

Duke chuckled to himself as he went back to looking around in the nooks and crannies where smaller details - like the glow sticks representing glow worms - are set up. He had to admit, when he had set all of this up in two-days-without-sleep haze, he hadn’t actually been sure if it actually looked good. Two minutes later, and Duke was absolutely sure that this was in the top fifteen best Bat-Pranks, He’d have to petition for it to be added at the next meeting.

A sudden clamor came from the Batcomputer, and Duke grinned before practically skipping over to see what was the matter. This will be fun, he thought.

Upon his arrival, he knew it was true.

“Holy shit!” He crowed joyfully upon catching sight of the one manikin that had been missing earlier: his own.

Duke’s manikin was draped in gold curtains - clearly from the South Wing’s Music Room - to look like a toga, and sitting on a throne. Literally. (Bruce just had one lying about in the Attic) The throne rested on a huge platform covered in jewels (also taken from the treasure chest in the Attic). A light setup in the crannies of the Cave’s ceiling shot out beams of ‘disco’ light. Thin black vales hang from the ceiling to give the ominous feel of shadows. And, in case there was any confusion, a golden plaque rests at the base, and is engraved with the words “The Duke of Gotham. Bow Before Your Ruler.”

It’s beautiful , Duke thought ecstatically, so much better than I could have ever dreamed!

He promptly burst into laughter.

Bruce growled in frustration. “This is not funny, Duke.”

“I dunno, B,” Duke shrugged, “I sure think it is!”

“It is not. This is a defacement of the cave, plain and simple. And a poor use of resources to boot. This space is supposed to be efficient, a place that aids in the mission - and are those my Great Aunt Matilda’s emeralds?”

Duke shrugged again as Bruce was set off onto an even longer rant about wasting everyone’s time and abilities since they were going to have to clean it all up. Duke was mostly tuning Bruce out by that point.

“-if you are being flattered by the prankster, that is a clear sign of them trying to get you on their side.” 

Duke froze and did a double take. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I didn’t train you to be so easily manipulated.”

Duke coughed. “Uh, I think you got this mixed up, B. See that? That’s me on the throne. Clearly this whole prank was organized by me.”

Bruce stared at Duke for a solid three seconds. Babs was covering her mouth to avoid a giggling fit, or maybe just out of shock. Damian was frowning at Duke.

Bruce’s right eye twitched. “Duke, no need to be sarcastic.”

Duke opened his mouth to argue some more, to explain just how wrong Bruce was, when said Dark Knight whipped around and stalked towards the elevator. He froze, though, when he stepped in front of Damian. 

There wasn’t even a moment's pause before Bruce was glaring down at his youngest son with resigned, tired eyes. “Damian, how many times have I told you that more knives are not better? You gave yourself away.”

Damian screeched in indignation, and raced to follow Bruce out, demanding for Bruce to see reason.

“Father, you are being ridiculous!”

But his cries were quickly silenced by the closing of the elevator doors, leaving just Duke and Barbara in the Bat Cave.

Babs pivoted to look to Duke and shrugged. “Sorry kid, but he’s just stubborn.” 

Duke blinked in confusion as she wheeled away. Had she always known? Scratch that - she was Oracle. Of course Barbara knew.

Duke collapsed at the foot of his throne, and put his head in his hands. Next time, he promised himself, no one else is gonna be there. No one else can take the credit.

*****

“He’s really trying, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Well, this will be fun to watch.”

“Yes.”

“Should we just tell Bruce and be over with it?”

“…”

“Yes, you’re right Cass. We wait and watch.”

Chapter Text

“But Father, ” Damian exclaimed as he followed Bruce around like a tiny puppy, constantly telling Bruce to rethink his punishment. “You are being utterly ridiculous! Removing me from patrol is unconstitutional, as Grayson would say!”

Duke snorted into his bowl of granola and shared a look with Cass, who was also sitting at the Kitchen Island eating breakfast.

Bruce sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Damian, do you know what ‘unconstitutional’ means?”

“Of course I do! Now remove this idiotic hindrance upon my daily routine.”

“No.”

“Father!”

“ No , Damian.” Bruce replied, steel in his voice. “And that is final, so no more arguing.” Damian opened his mouth to speak again, but Bruce held up a hand. “If you don’t get your emotions under control, I will be forced to make you stay in your room. Selina is coming back from her trip with Harleen and Pamela tonight, so I need you to behave.”

Damian scowled and stomped out of the room, and Bruce left through another door. The room was left with a low tension still present from the argument.

Duke, however, wasn’t feeling it. Bruce wanted his son to behave? With Selina coming over? Haha, no.

Cass tapped his shoulder, distracting him from the idea beginning to form. “Hurry,” she said, “and you can get it done.”

A smile began to spread across Duke’s face, mirrored in the twinkle in Cass’ eye.

“I won’t let you down,” he promised, and raced out of the room.

*****

Duke was pacing slowly in the small side hallway, his phone and a giant boombox in hand. He hadn’t had as much time to set this up, so it was a far cry from the elaborate pranks he had done over the past couple of weeks. And yet despite that, it was quite possibly the most dangerous yet.

An alert popped up on the phone, and he checked it. It was a text from Steph:

Purple People Eater

You sure you don’t want to come with us to Babs’?

B & Selina made themselves scarce, you know what that means

We have waffles!

Duke grinned and quickly sent a reply.

Duchess Day Shift

Naw, thanks tho

Enjoy your movie night, I like having the Manor to myself

Duke put his phone away and hefted the boombox. On the surface, the text was only Stephanie warning Duke that he really didn’t want to be around during what the others referred to as “Domestic BatCat Freaky Rooftop Time Minus The Roof Plus The Embarrassment Of Us Being There” (At least, that’s what Steph called it). But underneath, it told Duke all he needed to know: It was Go Time.

He walked out of the hall, and onto the one where everyone’s bedrooms were. Duke took a breath before sitting down directly outside of Bruce’s Bedroom. Another breath, and he held up his phone. 

In, he lifted his finger. 

Out, he pressed the play button.

Suddenly, music began to blast from inside Bruce’s bedroom, from all the Bluetooth speakers Duke had stolen from his siblings due to the short time frame. The same speakers that Duke had hidden around Bruce’s room. Twenty-Nine speakers, to be specific.

Duke smirked as he pressed the play button on the boombox. Thirty, he thought gleefully as he listened to the lyrics that he was pretty sure just signed his death warrant.

Don't want no short dick man

Don't want no short dick man

Don't want no short dick man

Don't want no short dick man

Don't don't don't don't don't don't

Don't don't don't don't don't don't

Don't want no don't want no don't want no

Don't want don't want don't want don't want

Don't want no short dick man

A loud crash came from inside the room, and sharp curses echoed through the air. 

Duke snorted, but remained strong. He had to be perfectly presented when Bruce and Selina 

What in the world is that fucking thing?

Do you need some fucking tweezers to put that little thing away

That has got to be the smallest dick

I have ever seen in my whole life

Get the fuck outta here

As if on cue, the door banged open to reveal one fuming Dark Knight, looking for all the world as if he were about to go toe to toe with one of his greatest, most formidable enemies - Like Darkseid, the Joker, or Superman. Right behind him, Selina Kyle was doubled over in laughter. 

Duke, after looking up at the absolute furry upon his foster father’s face, froze. Wait, no! That’s not how this is supposed to work! Duke thought frantically as he began to regret his idea. I’m supposed to be immune to the Batglare!

“What,” Bruce ground out through clenched teeth, “is going on here?”

Duke liked his lips nervously and swallowed. Now was his time. This was it. After this, Bruce would actually see Duke for who he was. After this, Duke wouldn’t have to worry about falling into some stupid “Good Child” stereotype.

He decided to ease Bruce into it.

“Well,” he said conversationally, “I have this boombox here, and … it’s playing music.”

Bruce sighed heavily, and Duke blinked. Sighing? What? No, that couldn’t be right. Bruce only sighed when he was put out with someone, not standing right in front of the kid who just ruined his night with his fiance.

“Duke,” Bruce asked slowly, rubbing his face, ”just tell me this.”

Duke nodded, confused.

“Who put you up to this?

Duke blinked multiple times. No, no, no, nononononononono!

“No one! Gosh, can’t you see the evidence? I have the boombox right here, and I am clearly playing music-”

“I’m not mad at you.”

That’s… not good. “Wait, you’re not?”

“No, of course not.”

Duke was frantically trying to come up with some way to save the trainwreck of a plan. “Bruce, you don’t understand! You can’t believe someone else planned this! That’s not how this works!”

Bruce knelt down in front of Duke and rested a hand on his ward’s shoulder. “Duke,” he said slowly, seemingly flooding with what the others called BatDad Vibes™, “you don’t need to be scared. I know the others can push things on you, and be forceful. But you don’t need to worry. I won’t let whoever planned this hurt you.”

Duke wasn’t breathing, staring into Bruce’s eyes. Oh gosh , Duke thought, he actually believes this shit.

“Please, Bruce,” Duke pleaded “Believe me just this once when I say it wasn't Jason, or St-”

He was cut off from naming the rest of his family by Bruce straightening up and nodding.

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, as he was cut off from naming the rest of his family by Bruce straightening up. He nodded once to a still-grinning Selina. “I have to go.”

Duke scrambled to his feet and struggled in vain to grab Bruce’s arm. “No! Don’t!”

His attempts were fruitless, as Bruce gently pulled Duke’s arms away and disappeared around the corner, out of sight. It was down the same hall he left, that Duke had been standing in so recently. A different Duke had been standing there. One full of hope. One who believed that this pseudo father of his could come out of his thick skull and look at the facts. That Duke had perished in the flames of battle, in the flames of his hopes being burned. Arose, instead, a more sullen Duke. One who cared little for the world around him. One who had seen too much. One who didn’t even care anymore.

“Oh, stop being dramatic.”

Duke was shocked out of his rough, manly brooding, by Selina lightly punching his shoulder.

“I’m sorry?” He asked, confused.

“I know that look on your face,” she replied, “you were bemoaning your existence.” Duke opened his mouth to protest, but Selina smirked. “I’ve seen Bruce pull that same face thousands of times. Everyone else too. You’re not any different, Duke.”

Duke scowled down at his feet. “Well, apparently I’m different to Bruce.”

That got a laugh out of Selina. She tilted her head back and let  out a joyous sound that even managed to lift Duke’s spirits slightly. But only a little.

“Oh, lighten up, Kitten,” she offered affectionately. “ I thought it was funny.”

“Uhuh,” Duke muttered, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Now you’re learning,” Selina chuckled, and Duke couldn’t help but smile a little bit in return.

Selina pulled her phone after a moment, and held it out for Duke. He took it, confused. It was open to Spotify. Huh, that was strange, what did music have to do with- oh.

“Think you could find the song for me?” She asked, a twinkle in her eye.

Duke chuckled. “Yeah, sure.” After finding the song, and then a moment's hesitation, he asked, “do I want to know what you’re going to do with this newfound power?”

Selina took the phone back, then lifted her hand and booped the tip of Duke’s nose. “Nothing good, I assure you.”

Duke was openly grinning as he held a hand up to his forehead in a salute. “Godspeed, Catwoman.”

She was gone in an instant, slinking off into the shadows.

Duke was still grinning when he looked down at his feet, where the boombox had been set aside. The smile slid off his face. Sure, Selina seemed to enjoy the prank (And that felt good, to be honest. He liked her.), but Bruce had still managed to - unknowingly - outwit Duke’s plan. And to make matters worse, it was Jason who was taking the fall this time. The same Jason who had regalled Duke (in detail) his crowning achievement of hunting down eight drug dealers, decapitating them, discarding the bodies, then stuffing the heads in a duffle bag. Sure, Bruce probably wouldn’t let that happen to Duke, but Jason had ended his gripping tale with a single warning: “Don’t mess with me, Duchess.”

“I’m screwed,” Duke announced to the quiet hall.

*****

“Hey, does anyone know why Bruce is suddenly proclaiming the Manor a ‘No Bullying Zone?’”

“Yeah, has he met us.”

“I’m not sure, but it started when we were all at movie night, that’s when the poster went up.”

“Think Selina finally put him in his place?”

“Maybe. Let’s ask Duke, he was there.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Time to hunt a Narrows.”

Chapter Text

It’s a few days later when Duke is once again walking down the hallway with everyone’s bedrooms on it, searching for some kind of companionship, someone to ease his pain-

Okay, so he was returning from the bathroom to meet with Cass back in his room. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be any less dramatic! He was a bat plain and simple. Also, his therapist told him that being frank about the trauma he faced in life, being open and acknowledging about it, could help his overall mental health. And Bruce was a plenty traumatizing person in his own right.

(Though to be fair, his therapist also told him that sometimes taking out your aggression on others with a baseball bat to the head was a great stress reliever. But he was pretty sure that was a joke. Harley was funny like that. He hoped.)

There was a quiet buzz in the Manor, like there always was when other people were home. Duke had to admit he quite liked it. Not that he didn’t appreciate the cool stillness that came from being the only one home, he did. But there was just something different about others being present. Maybe it was the distant bumps of someone - Dick - climbing on the furniture, or faint sounds coming from the blasting of music across the house. Or maybe it was just that the air felt different.

Huh, Duke thought, This could be an interesting topic for a poem.

He was so caught up in his thoughts, that he didn’t notice the open door to Jason’s room until a loud “Fuck you, Bruce!” echoed through the air.

Duke froze, and turned to see Jason on the phone in his room, looking incredibly pissed off. This ought to be fun, he thought.

“You’re a dumbass, you know that, right?” Jason ranted. “I was out of the country at the time - no, screw that - I was off-planet. And you actually think I did this?” A moment’s pause. “You bet your shit it’s something I’d do - No! No that doesn’t mean I did it!”

Duke bit his lip to keep from laughing. Jason had been with his Outlaws during the prank (Duke had made certain), sure, but he honestly didn’t think that Bruce wouldn’t ignore that? Duke hadn’t been around long, but he knew when something of this magnitude happened with no visible culprit, the first suspect Bruce would go to was Jason.

Huh, maybe he should have thought of that beforehand. Oh well, Duke shrugged to himself as a grin threatened to overtake his face, this was plenty entertaining.

“Don’t you dare quote Agatha Christie at me, Bruce! I know those novels so much better than you.”

Duke let out a snort at that, though managed to catch himself before he deteriorated into a full-on giggle fit.

Jason whirled around to the source of the sound, still on the phone with Bruce. Duke grinned when they made eye contact, and winked. Jason opened his mouth to say something just as Duke also brought a hand up to his brow in a salute.

The grin on Duke’s face, however, slid off his face at what Jason said next, into the phone.

“Who did you say was caught with the boombox, again?”

Duke froze mid-salute for a solid two second, fear shooting through his spine, as he and Jason stared at each other. Then the former crime lord squinted, and Duke was gone.

He was racing through the halls of the Manor, turning at random junctions in a futile attempt to escape his enemy. Behind him, the roar of one Jason Peter Todd echoed through the house.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” Duke muttered under his breath, “I’m too young to die!”

“NO ONE’S TOO YOUNG TO DIE!” Was the returning cry of outrage.

Duke did all in his power to slow down Jason enough so that he could get away, but it was difficult considering if he moved even a single piece of the Manor out of place, Alfred would have his head. No offense to Jason, but Alfred was way scarier.

Unfortunately, Jason also was put off by a sudden wall of shadow coming up in his path.

But then suddenly, a light shone in the darkness! Duke could see the rays it shone from around the corner, and he knew the hope it brought. 

“THE NO KILL RULE DOESN’T APPLY TO DELINQUENTS!”

“I’M NOT QUITE SURE THAT’S TRUE,” Duke yelled back, willing himself to get one last burst of speed.

He slid down and around the corner then bolted up to make it those so few steps, the mere feet away from his goal. 

He felt a hand brush the back of his hoodie, but it was too late.

Duke jumped out the window.

*****

“You have a leaf in your hair.”

Duke reached his hand up to pat his head absentmindedly at Cass’ remark, but found no such piece of greenery.

“Cass, I can’t-” he cut himself off at the sight of his sister’s giggling. “That wasn’t even funny.”

“I know.” the young woman shrugged, then reached over and booped Duke’s nose. “You are too stressed. Bruce’s fault, yes. But relax. Your face will get stuck.”

Duke laughed then leaned over and bopped Cass back. “Sorry, Cass, but this is serious. It’s about the fundamental principles of Gothamites!”

Cass leveled an unimpressed stare his way. “Dramatic.”

Duke shrugged, “aright, so I’m being a bit melodramatic. But I will have you know that’s part of being from Gotham! Which Bruce doesn’t seem to get. I know he’s old and decrepit, but he’s not blind. And that’s how he’s acting! I swear, it’s like he literally gets taken over by mind control.” Duke froze, and stared wide eyed at Cass. “wait, is he actually being mind controlled? Is his eye twitching the trigger? It has to be by someone who really has it out for me. Maybe Bat-Mite? He likes chaos, right?”

Cass smacked Duke upside the head. “Old family remedy,” she explained wisely.

Duke sighed. “Alright, fine. Not mind control. Then what?”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘Stubborn’. ”

Cass and Duke glanced over towards the door, and the purple clothed newcomer. Stephanie Brown grinned triumphantly and marched confidently into the room. She pushed aside the curtains of Duke’s canopy dramatically and climbed onto Duke’s bed and draped herself over Cass, who didn’t seem to mind.

“Wait, what?” Duke asked, “What does his being stubborn have to do with this?”

Steph and Cass gave Duke twin looks of exasperation. 

“He… doesn’t… want… to… believe… that… you… aren’t… perfect.” Steph said slowly, with great pauses between words. “He… is… too… stubborn… to… consider… the… truth.”

Duke glared. “So I’ll just have to try harder.”

Steph somehow managed to give an uninterested shrug in her position. “Just don’t blame me again, and we’re good.”

Duke winced. “Yeah, that wasn’t exactly on purpose.”

“That’s what you get for going big, Duchess. Poor, innocent glitter gremlins get harmed in the process.”

“But I can’t do small things!” Duke groaned, “I did the research for this! Normal ‘rebellious teenager things’ would be to do things like dress differently, but I already do that! And no one would notice if was suddenly a goth like the rest of you-”

“Fuck you, I’m punk. ”

“-And the other stuff wouldn’t work either. Like, ‘stay out longer at night’?? Really? And Bruce would clap me on the back if I tried to learn a demonic language or too. I don’t want to be the ‘good child’ because I suddenly know all the crap that John Constantine spouts!”

Steph held up a hand, and Duke sighed. “What?”

“Okay, but just consider the ‘dressing different thing. ‘Cause I think you’d look hella good in gold eyeliner.”

Duke blinked. “I mean, duh, but that’s not really gonna work for Bruce.”

Cass whispered something in Steph’s ear, and the couple nodded at each other. 

“If we help you,” Steph asked, “Can we do makeovers?”

Duke squinted at them, though they didn’t crack under the pressure. “Alright, fine.”

Steph clapped her hands, overjoyed. Cass was smirking devilishly. 

“Just…” Cass began, tenting her fingers, “corner him.”

Stephanie nodded. “Yeah, you need to do something where he has to face the truth.” She held up a hand before he could protest. “Not like you’ve done before, where he comes to his own conclusions. You need to get everyone against you. But especially people Bruce can’t ignore. Babs, or Dick. I’m sure Diana would be willing to help too!”

“You want me to get Wonder Woman to help me with a prank?”

Steph and Cass looked at each, then back to Duke. The latter was the one who spoke: “She’s nice.”

“She’s Wonder Woman. ”

Steph reached over and rested a hand on Duke’s shoulder. “Listen here, kid. This is serious, this is war. If you want to complete your goal, you need to make sacrifices. As Sun Tzu once said: ‘Victory is reserved for those who are willing to pay its price.’ Ambition will serve you well, Duke. Sacrifices need to be made.”

Duke nodded slowly, his eyes distant. “Sacrifices,” he muttered softly, “going beyond what I’ve done before.”

Steph began to nod, satisfied that she seemed to have gotten through to Day Shift when Cass froze.

“No,” she whispered, “Duke, no. ”

Duke looked at Cass. “I have to,” he whispered back, “Steph said so.”

“Wait,” Steph interjected, “what am I missing here?”

Cass was shaking her head frantically. “ It’s too far. ”

“No, it’s not.”

“Duke,” she began to shake his shoulders, trying to make him see sense, “don’t!”

“Uhhhh… what’d I do?”

Steph was ignored, however, in favor of Duke standing up and looking dramatically out of his open window, he turned back, his eyes welled with the steel of someone who had made up his mind.

“I have to do it, Cass. I have to prank … Alfred .”

*****

There was a light rustling noise as Duke took the role of toilet paper off of its hanging hook and placed it in backwards. 

*****

The coffee beans rattled as they were poured into the other bucket, combining the visually identical sets.

*****

Shkt, shkt, shkt.

The curtains rose exactly three centimeters from their previous position.

*****

Duke raced from drawing to living room, to music room, to library, flipping the pillows on all the chairs and sofas and loveseats upside down.

*****

“Oof,” Duke grunted as he managed to scooch the huge couch in the den two inches, four millimeters to the right.

*****

The lightbulbs whined in protest as Duke unscrewed them.

*****

Duke leaned back onto the banister of the main landing as he surveyed his work. Subtle, sure, in a way that he never thought he would do. But… it was also strangely satisfying. No one outside the family would ever notice something was off about the Manor. But those who lived here? Who had honed their perceptual skills? They would find themselves extremely uneasy in the space - even Duke was beginning to feel like there was something fundamentally wrong about his home. And Alfred was about a hundred times as sensitive as him.

Duke just prayed he wouldn’t die when the butler came back from the Kent’s farm.

*****

The tension in the Manor’s main living room was palpable, dragging itself over the skin of everyone present. They had been gathered by Bruce, via a message of “Code Maroon” to the Gotham Group Chat.

And as any bat would tell you, that code was as good as a death sentence.

No one dared to speak to each other, to even look at each other. Eyes were kept downward turning in a sense of self preservation. Duke dared to glance up only once, to take a headcount. He saw Dick and Jason at the far side of the room, the only members of the family within six feet of each other. Everyone else - including Tim, Stephanie, Cassandra, Harper, Cullen, Bette, Kate, Damian, and his pets - were spread out and isolated.

Duke quickly looked down and stiffened at the sudden change in atmosphere. He didn’t know when it had happened, but sometime after he had begun to train with Bruce, Duke had developed the same sixth sense as the other bats. The same unconscious knowledge of change. 

It also helped that he got a couple second warning to the sudden banging open of the Living Room’s doors.

Bruce stood in all his furious glory, arms up from throwing the double doors wide. Just behind him stood Alfred, looking ever so slightly displeased.

Shit, he was pissed.

“Do any of you know why you’re here?” Bruce asked, low and dangerous. No one spoke. “Alright then,”  Bruce nodded. “I will give you this one chance. ” He took a calming breath (it didn’t seem to do its job, though). “Tell me who ruined all of Alfred’s hard work, and I’ll let the rest of you off free. He works his ass off every day of the week for you hooligans, and the one time he takes some time off, you think it’s funny to ruin it.”

No one spoke.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred said, stepping up, “allow me.”

Bruce grumbled, but stepped to the side. He kept glaring at everyone in the room, though, and no one met his eyes.

Alfred pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “I have a list here of all alterations made to this house during my absence. Do speak up if anything is familiar.” he cleared his throat delicately. “Someone: put the toilet paper rolls in backwards-”

“I said after Dick: No Mullets .” Bruce interjected.

“Yes Master Bruce. Next, someone combined the caffeinated and decaffeinated unground coffee beans-”

Tim let out a horrified squawk at that, and fell over the back of the sofa in shock. Duke resisted the urge to snort. Alfred tactfully ignored him.

“All curtains have been lifted up exactly three centimeters from their previous resting heights.”

“Ssssssssssssssuuuuuuuuuuuun.” Kate hissed under her breath. Bruce gave her an unimpressed glare.

“All the pillows have been turned upside down, and the furniture they were placed on have been moved two inches, four milllimeters to the right. I will remind you that this has possibly endangered the hardwood flooring.”

“That is mahogany! ” Steph, Bette, and Harper chorused quietly. Not quite quietly enough, it seemed, as Alfred Raised an eyebrow™ in their direction.

“And every third portrait in the Manor has been tilted on its placement by 12 degrees.”

Alfred folded the paper and placed it back into his pocket.

No one spoke.

Bruce growled, “I swear if I have to bench every single one of you for a month I wi-”

“I did it.”

Everyone froze and turned to Duke, who had risen from his place on a reading chair to stand as confidently as he could, and stare Bruce in the eye.

“I’m sorry, Alfred. But it was while almost everyone was gone, and I was the only one who had much access to the house, so I thought it would be … funny. Bruce, punish me. But not the others - though if you could manage to bench Aunt Kate you’d be a miracle worker.” (he said that last part as a somewhat softer aside) He took a breath. “I’m the one you want.”

The others were looking Duke up and down, appraisingly. Alfred met his gaze, a subtle twinkle in his eye.

Bruce eye, on the other hand, was twitching furiously.

“Duke,” he managed to ground out, “I know you’re loyal to them.”

Duke blinked. “What? No way!” a cough from the side of the room. “Well, except Cass and maybe Steph. But Jason tried to kill me the other day, and the others are so close - I swear I saw Tim mixing bleach into my chamomile tea last week!”

“Hey, that was just an experiment!”

“On what? My ability to smell bleach?”

“You weren’t supposed to find out!”

“So you wanted me to drink bleach and tea?! ”

“It was for science! ”

“Science can go suck a-”

“BOYS!”

Duke and Tim froze and looked back to Bruce, who was rubbing the bridge of his nose desperately. To be honest, he looked like he was in pain. 

“Duke, I am very sorry that happened to you.” He was strangely calmed down when addressing Duke, almost soft. Duke swallowed in fear. Bruce turned his gaze to the rest of the family, and his eyes hardened. “As for the rest of you, I’m extremely disappointed in you. Lashing out and blackmailing Duke? Almost killing him? I thought we were all past this.”

Alfred coughed delicately in the silence that followed Bruce’s words. “Master Bruce, you are aware of the matter at hand?”

The Butler seemed to have lost his anger in the past couple of minutes, instead, he looked a touch tired. Could it be that Duke had found an ally?

Bruce nodded. “Of course, Alfred.” He turned back to the others. “All of you will be cleaning and Fixing the Manor so that it is in its previous condition. I want this place spotless. You will also be writing handwritten apology letters to both Duke and Alfred. And I want them to be sincere. ”

Duke blinked, but kept his eyes trained directly on Bruce. He could feel the glares of the other members of his family upon his back and shoulders. Honestly, he thought he deserved it. He was a bat! Shouldn’t he have come up with a way to fix this by now? Shouldn’t he have worked something out? At least stopped the others from getting blamed?

Alfred coughed pointedly, and Duke glanced ever so briefly towards the Butler. He had pity in his eyes as he looked back towards Duke, but he hardened when he looked to Bruce.

“Master Bruce,” he chastised, “Shouldn’t you be more concerned with Master Duke’s actions. Why he did it, in fact?”

Bruce squirmed. “Right. Of course.” He turned to Duke again, looking extremely uncomfortable.

Is this it? Duke wondered, a spark of hope daring to ignite in his heart, did Alfred really do it?

Bruce cleared his throat. “Alfred is… always telling me to be more… open. ” He began, and Duke’s eyes widened. “And… understanding.” Holy shit, this was happening! He was- this would be the answer to all of Duke’s prayers!

“And so I should have recognized this as a cry for help long ago.”

…

No.

No.

No.

No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!

“Fuck that shit.” Jason announced from the side of the room, and Duke couldn’t help but agree.

Bruce glared at his third eldest child, but didn’t seem to want to derail the conversation. “We’ll be talking more about this at a later point, Duke.” Bruce rushed out, trying to get it over with. “For now… know I’m here.”

And with that he turned and stormed out of the room. Apparently that was too much emotional conversation for him.

The room erupted into loud protests, war cries, and for some reason - probably Steph - loud operetic belting. 

Duke was still frozen, staring at where his foster father had once stood. This was all wrong. This was… this was a sign, wasn’t it? A warning from the cosmos to stop trying to reach his goal.

Duke sank back down into the reading chair and put his head in his hands, utterly defeated.

“Master Duke?”

Duke glanced up to see Alfred standing above him, a concerned look on his mustached face. The old man settled down on a seat opposite of Duke, and rested a comforting hand upon his shoulder.

“Do not be so disappointed in him, my boy. He tries his best.”

Duke blinked, then shook his head. “No, I’m not mad at Bruce - alright, maybe a little - but this is my fault. I was shit at planning this. I couldn’t make anything work.”

Alfred frowned. “No,” he said strongly, “you are a brilliant young man, so do trust me when I say that Master Bruce is as stubborn as an ox. You could not make him see anything that he did not wish to.”

“So he doesn’t want to see me.” Duke accepted glumly. “Guess I’ll just have to accept being the ‘Good Child’ then.”

He stood up, put his hands in his pockets, and walked out of the room with his head, and spirits, down. He was too caught up in his own misery that he didn’t notice that all the noise had died down, replaced by the silent stares of the other bats.

Alfred looked over his family, and sighed. “Do try not to be too hard on him,” he said calmly, to the group before following Duke out the door. “He was trying his best.”

*****

“What… just happened?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Did Alfred really-”

“And Bruce!”

“You don't think we were too hard on him, do you?”

“I mean…”

“Shit.”

“How do we even fix this?”

“I have an idea.”

Chapter Text

It was quiet in the Manor, which was never a good sign. Even when there was no one else home, there was still noise. And Duke knew for a fact that almost everyone home at the time (Kate and Bette weaseled their way out somehow), by order of Bruce.

Duke left his room and went out into the halls, trying to figure out what was wrong. Truth be told, that probably wasn’t the best idea. Who knew what pranks or booby traps awaited him if he dared leave his sanctuary? But Duke didn't really care at that point. Or so he told himself.

“This is stupid,” Duke muttered, “just get over yourself, Duke.”

But he couldn’t. Everyone else in the family seemed to either hate him, or not listen to him. (Well, Alfred, Cass, and Babs didn’t seem to? But they were wild cards to begin with). 

“Just get through this day. Then you can go run in the gardens like a repressed victorian maiden whose love has been scorned.” He felt better at that thought, and a little bit of pep crept its way back into his step.

It was right when he turned left and entered the North Wing of the Manor that he began to hear the grunts of hard work. Many, many grunts. “Shit,” Duke muttered under his breath. It sounded like everyone was here.

Duke took a breath and kept walking down the hall, pointedly staring ahead when he caught the wide open doors of the ballroom. What had he done in the ballroom? He couldn’t help himself when he got there, and peeped into the room. Huh, looked like a mix of everything.

Then the eyes moved as one, and trained directly on him.

Duke opened his mouth, unsure of what to say. Inside, his mind was a solid stream of shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

Thinking of nothing else, he raised his hands, and gave his siblings finger guns. An easy smile matched the movement. At least portraying confidence was something he was good at.

But the looks became too much for him, so he made a hasty retreat. Said retreat was so hasty, in fact, that he wasn’t around to hear the other bats packing up their cleaning supplies, and moving as a single unit after their mark.

*****

Duke made it all the way back to the main living room (affectionately called the ‘den’ by everyone due to the bean bags and pillows and blankets strewn haphazardly everywhere) before he caught sight of Damian’s flying squirrel impression.

He quickly sidestepped the coming attack just in time to avoid Damian as he threw himself from Dick’s shoulders and came screeching down like a flaming chihuahua. 

“What the fuck, dude?!” Duke exclaimed as he batted off Damian wild attacks.

“Yeah, that’s not why we came here,” Dick sighed, and physically restrained Damian from attacking anymore.

“Tt. Very well, Grayson. I shall spare Thomas from my skillful and furiously deadly attacks.”

Duke didn’t have the heart to tell him he had looked like a baby hedgehog.

He stared at his siblings, assembled like an army. Even Cass was there, though he was positive she hadn’t been cleaning with the rest of them (something about her also being innocent™ in Bruce’s eyes?). 

“What do you want?” He asked, slowly edging back towards the window behind him. 

“Not so fast, glowstick.”

Duke whirled to find Kate, Bette, Jean-Paul and Luke standing in his escape route. 

“I-” he looked around, desperately searching for a path to safety. His eyes landed on a vent grate, and he was just about to bring up some shadows to cover his escape when a light next to the vent turned on, and a sheet of metal slid down over it.

Barbara rolled into the room, a laptop in her lap.

That’s it.

Duke was officially dead.

“I-” Duke breathed heavily, his mind racing. What would they want? What could he give them to spare his life? “I-”

“Chill, Duchess. We just want to talk.”

Duke looked at Jason dubiously. Yeah, he totally wanted to talk. “Brown Bat, Black Bat, Red Bat, Blue Bat.” He muttered under his breath, and began to chant. It was meant to be a steadying technique, on to keep one’s mind away from-

“Is he using his torture resistence training?”

“Brown Bat, Black Bat, Red Bat, Blue Bat.”

“Oh, screw this,” Barbara said, and snapped her fingers in Duke's face. “Duke. You’re fine. They’re not not mad at you.”

Duke stopped chanting and eyed Damian warily. “You sure about that?”

“I can taze him if that would make you feel better?” Harper asked, and Damian honest-to-god hissed.

Everyone looked at the kid, and he squirmed under the scrutiny. “Tt, fine.”

When they looked back at Duke, it was Steph who spoke. “Babs, Cass, and I explained to them you never meant to blame us. Plus, no murder on Manor grounds! So don’t worry, you’re safe.”

Duke glanced around again. “Then what’s this?”

“We want to know why,” Bette answered. “I mean, other than showing homage to me with that glorious flaming manikin. Boy, that was awesome!”

Duke gave his cousin a small smile. “You really think so?”

Bette snorted, “Of course!”

Huh, that - that was kinda nice.

“I also appreciated the color palette you chose for the glitter,” Jean-Paul offered. “Though Dr. Thompkins was a touch annoyed by my tracking glitter all over the clinic later that day.”

“And can we just take a moment to bask in the brilliance of what happened with Bruce?” Steph asked, “Dude, I made a mixtape from the security footage!”

“Tt, I suppose you were not entirely disrespectful towards the native wildlife of the cave.”

Dick ruffled Damian’s hair. “He adored the mini dinosaurs.”

“They were infant forms of the larger statue, not mini versions. You could tell if you looked at their proportions, Richard. ”

“Oof,” Harper winced. “That’s rough buddy.”

“You know what was worse though?” Jason asked. “Going against Alfred. That took some serious balls, dude.”

One by one (for the most part, there was a decent amount of excited exclamations that covered other people), each bat had at least one thing or another to say about Duke’s pranks. It was… really fucking nice if he were being honest. They were impressed! By him! Squeal!

“So,” Luke asked from the side right after Tim finished a rant about how mixing the coffee beans was definitely cruel, but at least now he couldn’t have all his caffeinated beans confiscated. “Why did you start the one-sided war?”

Duke shrugged. “Bruce thinks I’m the sane one. I didn’t like it.”

“So you thought the only way you could fix it was by destroying the Manor?”

“Hey,” Duke protested, “The C4 remained in the vault, thank you very much.” He scratched behind his head. “But I mean… Bruce seemed to ignore everything else. So I thought… up close and personal, y’know? It would get him to see - to see me. ”

“Oh,” Kate said from the corner as she pulled a canteen from her jacket pocket. “It’s just a classic case of teenage angst.”

“I was not angsty. ”

Cass held up something in her hand, and pressed a button on it. Out played “ Then you can go run in the gardens like a repressed Victorian maiden whose love has been scorned. ”

Duke grumbled under his breath, but brightened when Jason held up a hand for a fist bump and said “We all want to do that sometimes, daffodil.”

“Well,” Babs spoke up, “Bruce seems like a lost cause. Unless you have a plan?”

Duke sighed. “I don’t know what to do now - if I can do anything.”

Jason grinned suddenly and reached behind his back. From there, he somehow managed to pull out a whole-ass crowbar. 

“Well, you were Robin, right?” He asked conversationally. “Why don’t you carry on my legacy?”

Tim’s eyes widened and he reached forward to hold Jason back. “Hey, that’s a bit violent, Jason.”

Jason Raised the crowbar above Tim’s head. “He blamed you for a Mega Rick Roll, Tim.”

Tim froze and looked to Duke, considering. After a moment, he seemed to make up his mind. “Fair point. Proceed.”

“NO!” Dick cried, and snatched the crowbar from Jason’s hand.

The crime lord deflated, looking like a kicked puppy.

“ Dude. ” Duke said, staring, somewhat disturbed, at both Tim and Jason.

“They’re stupid.” Cass said, coming over to pat Duke on the head. “Ignore them.”

“Yeah… I’ll try.”

“I would argue that it is, in fact, better to not ignore us.” Tim said, “seeing as we have an answer to your conundrum.”

“Where did this ‘we’ come from?” Jason demanded. “It was my idea!”

“And we’re all self-serving enough to jump on the train,” Harper countered. “Therefore, we’re all a part of this.”

“I dunno,” Cullen said, “I don't really have a part in this. Why am I even here?”

“Because I couldn’t find a babysitter on such short notice.”

“I’m sixteen, Harper!”

Cass patted Cullen’s back. “Infanthood,” she teased.

“Can we get back on track?” Dick asked, and the room fell quiet.

“Yeah,” Duke said after a second, “What do you guys even want?”

There were several cleared throats. 

“There comes a day in every young bat or bird’s life,” Jason began.

“When they shed the pure, innocent sainthood of youth.” Dick picked it up, before passing to Harper with finger guns.

“And take on the mature, grizzly state of-”

“Feral Gremlin Agent of Chaos!” Steph finished.

“Because of this,” Tim continued, “Our limitations grow due to the wild phenomena known as-”

Luke interjected: “-Bruce not looking at us like we’re hope incarnate-”

“-and realising we’re responsible for replacing his anti-gray hair formula with shaving cream!” Bette finished triumphantly.

“I…” Duke frowned. “Bruce is getting gray hair?”

Damian nodded. “The primary theory is due to us . Though I still insist that the googly eyes on the food in the fridge was, in fact, far more humorous than Father found it, and therefore he should not have been so stressed about it.”

Jean-paul tilted his head in agreement. “I do not typically prank anyone,” he said, “But Bruce does seem to get extremely nervous whenever I show the young ones how to stab someone with a flaming sword.”

“Gee,” Cullen remarked sarcastically, “I wonder why.”

Barbara shrugged. “I’ve never gotten blamed for anything-” there were several nods “-but Bruce has been annoying me, so I’m in.”

“Into, what?” Duke asked. “What is even going on?”

All the bats glanced at each other, then Kate inclined her head.

“We know Bruce won’t open his eyes, he’s stubborn like that. So how about we use this to our advantage? Oh, and you owe us for what you put us through.” Kate summarized before taking a swig from her canteen.

Duke looked around at all his siblings and family members. His friends. He was shocked and confused, and to be honest, a little bit honored. But as he moved from face to face, one emotion seemed to consume him: Devious glee.

Duke smirked. “I’m in.”

*****

“GL!” Dick cried exactly when he spotted Hal Jordan down the hall on the Watchtower. “It’s been too long!”

Hal smiled, somewhat hesitantly. “Nightwing, it’s good to see you. How’s the family?”

Dick waved his hand. “Perfect angels as always,” he said when they got closer to each other. “Say, have you seen B recently?”

Hal frowned. “Spooky’s in the dining hall, I think. Flash was complaining about the microwave being broken, so I think he was gonna try and fix it.”

Dick nodded, then clapped Hall on the back. “Thanks! I have everything I need.”

“Operation: Rocket Flight is a go,” Dick muttered under his breath as he turned to leave. 

Hal stared in confusion as Nightwing left via the zeta tubes. He didn’t even notice the faint black spec on his shoulder.

*****

“This is your time to shine, Pomegranate the Destroyer,” Damian whispered to the tiny, baby brown bat before him. “Fly low and utilize your natural stealth.”

The bat scratched at the miniature harness Damian had placed on it, but altogether didn’t seem too bothered. It stared back into Damian’s eyes after a moment, and the two seemed to come to an understanding.

“And he is off,” Damian murmured as he watched his miniscule partner take flight.

*****

“SNEAK ATTACK!” Jason yelled to Oliver Queen, who was currently relaxing in his very specious hot tub in his Manor.

“What the hell?!” He yelled as he was hit with a sudden barrage of nerf darts.

Jason smirked as he walked past the quaking, naked billionaire. “So sorry to interrupt your chill time, but I just thought I’d let you know you’re cordially invited to the next annual Wayne Gala! Your paper invite will be coming in the mail sometime in the next few months.”

“You’re a psychopath.”

“I will have you know my therapist says I’m sane compared to her, so I don’t need to take any of this verbal abuse.” Jason whistled happily as he opened the door. “Let your lawyers know I’ll be suing for emotional damages.”

*****

“Two more degrees to the right,” Harper instructed, and Cass complied.

The pair looked back at their hard work, and took twin sips of their slushies. “So tough,” Cass said, “Much difficult.”

“Very time, super taxing.”

They fist bumped as they looked at the framed desk-top photograph they had moved seven inches to the right and turned a couple of degrees. Yes, this had to be the most difficult mission yet.

*****

“So, Flash.” Tim greeted slowly, leaning on the edge of the computer setup made for monitor duty, “How’s it going?”

Barry frowned. “What do you want?”

Tim shrugged. “It’s not what I want. More… what I can do for you.”

The speedster squinted at him. “This doesn’t involve marbles on the floor and me tripping and making a fool of myself, does it?” he asked.

Tim laughed. “What? Why would I ever do something like that?”

“November 15th, 2012, 1500 hours.”

Tim blinked. “Not what I meant.”

“Red Robin, what do you want?”

“I need access to the computer,” Tim answered, “and I’m willing to pay handsomely.”

The Justice League drummed his fingers in thought across the desk. “And why? Can’t you just hack in?”

“Normally, yes. But there can’t be any evidence of tampering. Now you in or not? I have brownie protein bars.”

“…deal.”

*****

“Oracle great and mighty, we call thee!”

“AAAaaaaaAAAaAAoooooooooooooooooooooooooooom.”

“Oracle Powerful and wise, we beseech thee!”

“AAAaaaaaAAAaAAoooooooooooooooooooooooooooom.”

“Oracle vast and pure, we beg thee!”

“AAAaaaaaAAAaAAoooooooooooooooooooooooooooom.”

“Oracle preeminent and erudite, we summon thee!”

“AAAaaaaaAAAaAAoooooooooooooooooooooooooooom.”

*****

“Are we ready?”

They looked at each other, exchanging glance after gaze after eyebrow wiggle.

“Yeah,” Dick answered, “are you?”

Barbara smirked. “Oh yes, I’m all fuelled up from that ceremony. Thanks, Steph.”

Kate sat up. “You did a cult meeting without me?”

Selina, stretched her arms. “Gee, I wonder what it feels like to not be told things by people you consider family.”

Everyone stared at the cat who had somehow weazled her way into the plan, and convinced Kate that she should be ‘in the know’.

“What?” she asked. 

Cullen shrugged. “You’re tied to the enemy, ma’am.”

Selina squinted. “We’re all tied to the enemy, Cullen.”

“I would argue,” Luke said, “that I am not, in fact, truly linked to him. Sure, my dad and him-”

“You’re linked.” Tim said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be a part of this.”

“Double standards,” Selina muttered.

“Ehem.” Barbara coughed, drawing everyone’s attention to her setup of monitors clearly displaying their gole, their plan, their hopes and dreams. “Are we ready?” she asked again, staring everyone down.

They glanced at each other one last time. Slowly, they began to nod. It started with Jason, then Dick and and Bette and Tim, then Kate and Damian and Harper, then Cullen, Luke, and Jean-Paul, then Selina and - wait, when did Alfred get here?! Cass and Steph nodded as one from where they were elbowing each other for space on a chair, and then all that was left was Duke.

He closed his eyes. “Ready.”

Barbara smirked and pressed the ‘send’ button.

*****

Bruce grunted as he pulled out the oatmilk from the fridge. Shit, looks like Damian went grocery shopping with Alfred again.

He sighed and poured himself a bowl of cheerios and put the food away before walking into the den. Thankfully, Alfred was otherwise occupied, so Bruce wouldn’t get chastised for bringing food into the living room. He held his cereal bowl in one hand before using the other to grab the remote control and turn the TV on. Absentmindedly flipping through stations, the Dark Knight almost missed abnormality of one of the stations before it was too late.

“What…” Bruce muttered as he looked at the face of Clark Kent, Metropolis reporter, sitting at the usual desk for Gotham News.

The alien coughed, and looked entirely uncomfortable on camera. Bruce unmuted.

“-and we still have no clue as to the origin of this… strange matter,” he was saying, “but it is very clear as to what it is. It’s spread out of its Gotham origin across the US, and into Europe. Experts were unavailable for comment.” He blinked. “Just like every single usual Gotham reporter. The official reason, of course, is due to some form of a Poison Ivy Toxin-”

Bruce frowned outside the window to his right, where he could see Selina having brunch with both Harleen and Pamela and being served by Alfred. They had been spending time together all weekend.

“-and the unofficial reason is that they’re all too scared of Batman!” Clark rushed out.

From somewhere offscreen, there was a muffled “KENT!”

Bruce squinted at the TV. Why on earth would the reporters be scared of him - except the usual reasons, of course.

Clark cringed subtly at the rebuke and recollected himself. “We’ll be playing the footage once again for those who have just tuned in.”

Footage? What on earth-

The screen switched to an all black view, and Clark was no longer visible. There was a shuffling sound before the Star Wars theme song began to play, and the following text scrolled across the screen:

A LONG TIME AGO, IN A CITY FAR, FAR AWAY…

THERE LIVED A FURRY BY NAME OF ‘BUTTMAN’

HE INSTILLED FEAR IN THE FEW WHO DARED KINK SHAME HIM

AND LURKED IN THE SHADOWS

SEEKING VENGEANCE

AND THE NIGHT

BECAUSE HE WAS 

BUTTMAN!!!!!

AND YET DESPITE HIS VALIANT CRUSADE

HE, LIKE ALL OTHER BUTTS, HAD HIS FAULTS

THIS IS HIS STORY.

As the text disappeared upwards, the screen lightened to reveal a still of Bruce, in full Batman gear, walking in the cafeteria of the Watchtower. All is normal until his rocket boots suddenly start up, sending him soaring into the wall. He slid down slowly, a groaning pile of bat.

Suddenly the scene shifted to a clip of Batman falling into a dumpster behind Leslie’s clinic. He seemed drunk, as he kept belting out the lyrics to “I’m a little Teapot” and tripping over his own feet.

The next area was darker, and it seemed to be oozing broodiness. Wait - was that the Bat Cave? Bruce didn't have time to consider how anyone could have gotten in, as the camera angle (which had remained low) turned around a corner to reveal Batman standing, holding an iphone upwards near his face.

“Call Superman,” he enunciated clearly.

“Initiating drone strike on ‘Superman,’ ” Siri answered.

“NO! Call Superman. ”

“Initiating drone strike on ‘Superman.’ ”

“NO!”

“Initiating nuclear strike on ‘Superman.’ ”

“He can take nuclear strikes, you dumb excuse for technology. Now Call Superman. ”

“Initiating drone strike on ‘Superman.’ ”

Bruce cringed on the inside. Oh no, Clark was the reporter. Clark would see this. Clark had seen this. Shit.

Thankfully, he was saved from the rest of the clip (He knew that that conversation had gone on four twenty more minutes before Alfred had come in and manually pressed the ‘call’ button on the phone) by the scene changing once again.

It was back on the Watchtower, and this time the footage was taken from a security camera. Batman was situated in front of The Flash, and they were in the middle of an argument.

“That was entirely too irresponsible of you! Next time, Nightwing I want you-”

Batman froze for a split second.

“Red Hood-”

He paused, before growling, “Red Robin I swear-”

Flash, who had previously looked a combination of bored and a touch scared, seemed to be trying not to laugh.

“Oracle - Signal - Batgirl - Spoiler - Robin - Azrael - Batgirl - Black Bat - Robin three and seven quarters - Batwoman - Flamebird - Batwing - Bluebird - Batgirl -  Agent A - Batcow - CATWOMAN!”

Batman was breathing heavily, clearly trying to figure out why he had named every single one of his children associates instead of the person before him.

He seemed to recollect himself, before straightening and staring directly at Flash.

“Impulse, I will-”

There was a cry of outrage before the screen went black again. 

Bruce closed his eyes, unwilling to look at the rest of the video. He plugged his ears, not wanting to listen to it either. 

He cracked his eye open after a minute or two to see some slo-mo clip of him getting covered in alien ooze from some mission a few weeks ago. He promptly shut the eye.

Bruce was quietly cursing whoever posted this monstrosity around the three minute mark. Eventually though, he deemed it safe to look again. Clark was seated at the desk once again, giving the report.

“-once again the origins of the video have yet to be discovered. But the end credits suggest that the origins are of a humorous nature - these people just want to share some fun. And I’m sure anyone watching along can confidently say they succeeded. I know I can.”

“Clark,” Bruce growled under his breath, “I will set my children on you.”

The reporter on screen froze, and his smile became strained. “I - uh. As I was saying -”

“With Kryptonite. ”

“I…” Clarked blinked. “And now for a commercial break!”

The midwesterner stood up from the set and bolted offscreen, seemingly for an exit.

A muffled “KENT!” came from behind the camera.

Bruce set down his bowl of cereal, having lost his appetite. There was business to attend to. Things like getting that horrendous piece of propaganda and lies off of the interwebs, and finding out whoever did it. Oh, and he couldn't forget paying a visit to whichever Gotham Gazette employee thought it was a good idea to outsource reporters from the Daily Planet just because he owned the company.

He stormed off in a huff, set on heading to the cave. In his absence, the shadows moved together in giggling masses, staring at their week-long project. Yes, it had definitely been worth the trouble.

***** 

“Oracle, I need your help.”

Barbara smirked as leaned back in her wheelchair. “Oh hello Batman. This wouldn’t have anything to do with why you’re contacting me after you know everyone else is gone for the night?”

There was a grunt in response.

“I’ll take that as yes,” she remarked. “So, What can I do to help?”

“There is a video circulating the internet-” Barbara had to resist the urge to snort at that “-that I have been unsuccessful at removing. Your assistance in the matter would be welcome.”

She was completely professional as she replied. “I’ve tried, Batman. I know how detrimental to our image this is. But, for some reason, I haven’t been able to track down the source of the problem and eradicate it. Whoever did this is incredibly skilled, and completely submerged in the net. Always online. Almost like they’re a part of it, actually.”

Bruce was completely silent, and Barbara kept the smile out of her voice as she finished her part of the script. “But I’ll work on it, and inform you of any updates.”

The Bat grunted one last time before he logged off.

*****

“Call Supe- Superman- Call Superman!”

Bruce glared in frustration at the Batcomputer’s monitors as he tried in vain to search for some telling piece of evidence. Something that would condemn whatever madman broke into the cave to record this. He has already deduced the day it was taken (just four days ago, in fact.), but now how it was taken. 

There was a ding behind him from the elevator, but Bruce didn’t look up. There was no time to worry about Alfred coming in to clean. Though he would send a child to bed if he knew they shouldn’t be there.

He threw himself back into his work, searching every. Single. Pixel for information. He was so enraptured, in fact, that he let out a grunt of surprise when Stephanie plunked herself down next to the chair, a plate of waffles in hand.

“Whatcha doin’?” she asked before taking a bite.

Bruce glared down at her for interrupting his work, but he wasn’t actually mad. It was nice, knowing that Stephanie seemed to be open enough now to be so casual. And, the fact that she had stayed the night after patrol. 

“Case.” he answered after a little while.

“Uh huh.” she replied skeptically, but leaned forward in interest.

“Do you notice anything?”

She shrugged. “Not really. Though I gotta say it’s impressive! That angle is super weird, you’d have to be super small to get it. Like a tiny mouse!” She laughed and took another bite of her waffles.

“Hrm,” Bruce remarked, an idea sparking in his mind. Stephanie, seemingly oblivious to what she had just shared, offered him a waffle.

He accepted, and added a note to his case file.

*****

“Darling, come to bed.” Selina wrapped her arms around Bruce’s shoulders, resting her chin on his head. “You’ve been working on these notes for hours.”

“Not tonight, Selina.” Bruce replied. “This is important.”

“More important than me ?”

Bruce tactfully didn’t respond.

“That’s what I thought,” Selina said smugly before letting go of him to go and sit across the sofa where they were. “At least take some pain medication, Bruce. You took a nasty fall last night, don’t deny it.”

Bruce scowled. “I don’t want a repeat of the … incident at Leslie’s.”

Selina raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You’re telling me you weren’t out drinking that night, stumbling through a dim alley on the way home from some hook up?”

Bruce glowered. “You know perfectly well I sprained my ankle last month and Damian wouldn’t let me go back to the cave without being treated.”

“He cares about you.”

“ No, he cared about the stray cats that Leslie feeds in the alley. He knew perfectly well I could have dealt with the injury in our med bay.”

Selina stretched out, yawning. “I happen to think that cats are very important.”

“I’ll make sure to make note of it in my file.”

Selina knit her eyebrows together as she looked at Bruce’s papers strewed across the coffee table. “You’ll have enough room?”

Bruce grunted.

“Hmm,” Selina hummed. “Why do you have the public security cameras in the ‘reasons why it was a Gothamite’ section?”

“Because I have them hooked up to the cave’s computer.”

Selina raised an eyebrow. “The same computer that you have linked into the Watchtower’s Monitor System?”

Bruce didn’t answer. He just reached forward and crossed something out with his pen.

*****

The door to the Monitor Room banged open, revealing a black and blue clothed figure.

“Hey B!”

Bruce nodded in greeting. “Nightwing.”

Dick sauntered over, and sat in one of the other chairs, at a different set of monitors. 

“Don’t mind me! I’m just grabbing some files for a Titans thing.”

Bruce nodded, and turned back to his very important and serious work. So far, he had found absolutely no sign of anyone hacking in to access files. Or video footage.

“How’s your thing going?” Dick rolled over (why on earth did Bruce not welded the chairs to the floor like he did in the Cave?) to look at the coding that scrolled across the screen. “Oof, looks like some tough stuff.”

“Yes, I know.”

“You ask Babs for help?”

“Hmph.”

“Ah, too proud. Well, you probably should. You know she’s the best there is. And it would be less embarrassing than asking Cyborg for help. At least, I think. But he’s just as good as what he does!”

“Yes.” Bruce murmured. “Part machine and all.”

“Exactly!” Dick grinned, then rolled back to his station. “Well, I got what I came for. See you for dinner?”

“You’ll be there?”

“Alfred’s making sous vide lamb. Of course I’ll be there.”

The door swing shut behind him, leaving Bruce alone with his thoughts.

*****

“Intermission will end in ten minutes,” the voice overhead announced as the theatre began to clear. Bruce sighed and stood, along with his daughter.

“I’m going,” Cass said quietly, before gesturing out the door of their box and towards the bathrooms.

Bruce nodded, and Cassandra disappeared  out of view. A moment later, when Bruce had just stepped out, a familiar face appeared.

“Hey, Bruce!”

Bruce smiled. “Luke. Fancy seeing you here.”

Luke shrugged. “My dad wanted to see the ballet, and I was in town and free, so I came along.”

Bruce nodded. “How is your dad?”

“Good, good.” Luke replied. “He’s working on that project you gave him, talked about it all the way here. Funny business, eh?”

Bruce glared.

“Right, right,” Luke amended, “The video itself isn’t funny at all.” Luke paused. “Oh, just thought you should know that it might take longer than you thought, tracing the signal that, that is. Dad keeps getting interference from a Queen Industries satellite.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes ever so slightly in thought. “I’ll have a talk with Oliver.”

It might be a while, though. there wasn't a League meeting for a couple weeks. Not to mention Ollie was very strong about his opinion to decline his invitation to the next Wayne Gala. One that he hadn't even been invited to yet. Hmm, Bruce would have to look into that. It was rather suspicious behavior for his fellow billionaire. 

“Cool,” Luke said, then grinned. “Hey, Cass.”

Cassandra, who appeared from the crowd to stand beside Bruce, smiled back. “Hi, Luke.”

Luke talked about something going on in the ballet, effectively striking up a conversation with Bruce’s daughter. Bruce, however, was only half paying attention.

He had to add this to his notes.

*****

This was too much. The house was too much. The kids were too much. This case was too much. Seeing that god awful video on every screen and social media platform and website was too much.

So that’s why Bruce found himself wandering the gardens of Wayne Manor, searching for even the smallest moment of peace he could get.

because of this, he came across the long flowing blond family member known affectionately as ‘The Walking Loreal Commercial.’

“Jean-Paul,” Brue greeted, sitting down on a bench near the meditating man.

Jean-Paul opened his eyes and smiled softly in greeting. “Bruce. I hope you don’t mind that I spent some time here.”

“Not at all, you’re always welcome.”

Jean-Paul nodded. “Are you seeking solace as well?”

Bruce sighed. “Yes. I find it helpful to take a walk when things are overwhelming.”

“Ah, I understand how you would be under such stress in a time like this. I saw the video.”

Bruce cringed internally. “Who hasn’t?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. I almost didn’t see it, actually. I was about to go away for a few days on a camping trip with Kate. She ended up canceling, unfortunately, but that meant I was available when I received the Justice League newsletter.”

Bruce squinted. “The newsletter?”

“Yes, I’m not sure how I got on the list, Kate perhaps. But I was online in time to see Mr. Allen had sent out the video to the group and - well, you have seen it, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Well,” Jean-Paul shrugged, “I understand.”

“Thank you, Jean-Paul.” Bruce remarked, thinking. He remembered Kate mentioning a camping trip, yes. But there was something about the timing… it just wasn’t sitting well with him.

*****

Bruce glared down at his desk, trying to connect everything together. The evidence was all here. It was all so close. The answer was right in front of his eyes!

He reached over to the side to grab more string and glue. He was careful to make sure he didn’t get any on the oak desk, of course, as he valued his life. (Alfred wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if he got anything messy on the wood.)

He was gently wrapping some of the red string across the blue string and around the glittery rainbow thumbtack he had jabbed down through the multiple layers of paper when he saw it. 

“Alfred?” Bruce looked up to where the Butler was standing at the doorway, always close by when Bruce needed him. “Gather the family.”

He looked down at his work. “There’s something I need to talk to them about.”

*****

Duke shared a grin with Jason as he walked into the library. They had been called together by Bruce via text earlier that day through “Code Maroon.”

But this time, instead of being freaked out, everyone was in a state of excitement. They all knew what this was. They all knew how it would end. Of course, there was always the nagging suspicion that this would all backfire. But this time they knew it wouldn’t. They had a secret weapon, after all.

Duke sat down next to Kate, who was in the process of arm-wrestling Damian. She was clearly winning, but Damian had the most adorable look of concentration on his face, that Duke couldn’t blame Kate for giving the kid a chance.

Across the room, Selina was teaching Cullen how to pick a safe, and Harper looked on with a mix of concern, and excitement on her face.

Dick and Steph were in a handstand competition on the large table to the side of the room, and they seemed evenly matched. Tim and Bette were taking bets. (Bette… taking a bet… hahaha, Duke was incredibly funny.)

Luke seemed to be working on some kind of weaponized war toaster, and Cass was handing him tools with an eager look on her face. Shit, Duke would have to watch his back for the next month or so. He still remembered the drones armed with bazookas.

Jean-Paul and Barbara were with Jason, and they were all going over some book. The discussion seemed to be strangely laid back, especially for one that Jason was a part of.

A creaking came from the door, and there was a split second frenzy for everyone to get in place. The doors were flung open, with Bruce standing in the doorway. Alfred was right behind him, just like before.

“I have gathered you here today,” Bruce announced, “For a very serious matter. No making this into a laughing matter, I’m not very tolerant right now.”

Selina raised a hand. “Are you ever?” she asked.

Bruce glared.

Selina lowered her hand. “No fun today,” she muttered, and Cullen giggled.

“I am here,” Bruce said, “to ask you all what you were doing on these dates-” he coughed, and pulled out a piece of note paper covered in glue and string.

Before he could speak, however, Jason sat up, a look of terror in his eyes. “I swear the body isn’t mine!”

It took all of Duke’s willpower to not chuckle at that.

Bruce cleared his throat. “These following dates.”

He spoke clearly, listing them all off like it was a prison sentence. To anyone else, they would seem random, some from months ago, others mere days. But to this specific group of people, they were special.

They were, of course, when each clip of the now world-famous Batman Fail Reel had been recorded.

Bette was the first to speak up, citing her predetermined alibi: Tennis, tennis, spending time with Beast Boy, tennis, shaving Tim’s head, tennis.

Tim looked peeved, but picked up the train with his own answers. Dick went next, then Steph, then the others, one by one. Cullen seemed a touch confused by this, but used his youthful innocence™ to the max by directing the blame away from himself. He wasn’t a big concern, really, as Bruce wouldn’t suspect the only civilian.

“I was working on Friday, Thursday, and Tuesday, I think.” Harper said offhandedly, “on the weekend I had a movie night with Cullen, and a girl’s night with Selina, Kate, Bette, Steph, Cass, and Jean-Paul. Oh! And on Wednesday I was at the Manor.”

Bruce squinted. So far, Harper was the first one to admit she was within the vicinity of the Manor on any of the dates.

“Anything … special… happen then?”

Harper frowned. “I put bleach in your shampoo?”

Bruce took a slow, deep breath. “Anything. Else?”

Harper shrugged. “Not that I can remember. I had breakfast, hung out, pranked you, let Cyborg into the Cave for you guy’s meeting, and worked on the taser batarangs you made. And dude, the tasers are sub-par. Trust me, I know my tasers, and I had so much work to do to fix them-”

Bruce grunted, cutting her off. “What was that about Cyborg?” he asked slowly.

Harper frowned. “He showed up and asked to be let into the Cave? Because you had some meeting about Justice League cyber-security? It was around lunch-time.”

Harper’s face was a blank slate of innocence. And why shouldn’t it be? How was she supposed to know that Bruce was, in fact, off-world on that day? On a mission for the League?

Bruce's eye twitched.

Barbara reached into the messenger bag she had by her wheelchair and pulled out her laptop. “I’ll check,” she offered, not really waiting for an answer. Bruce knew better than to question her anyway.

Barbara raised an eyebrow at whatever she was looking at, then to Bruce. “Want me to put this on the big screen?”

Bruce nodded.

Babs gestured to the side of the room, and Bette and Tim pulled down a big screen from the ceiling used for presentations. Bruce had apparently put it in after Dick watched The Emperor's New Groove as a kid.

The screen lit up with the records of video footage in the Cave for the past few months. Barbara swept past the unnecessary dates before settling on the day in question. A couple seconds of more work, and a still of the exact day and time Harper had referenced appeared on screen.

The room held its breath, trying so, so hard not to laugh. They had to remain strong. This was not the time to fall apart! No matter how hilarious the sight on the screen was.

You see, displayed on the screen for everyone to see was a photoshopped picture of Cyborg standing in a grand position right in front of the Bat Computer. The word “photoshopped” is used here to mean “there is a framed photograph of the JL by the computer, with Cyborg in a grand position. And someone clearly copied and pasted that Cyborg just a few feet over, and enlarged it. There's no freaking way he's actually there.”

Bruce’s eye twitched.

“What’s that on the computer in the background?” Cullen asked, pointing to the Batcomputer behind “Cyborg” which had iMovie open, and a clip was being edited.

Babs knit her eyebrows together in concentration as she typed furiously, and the screen connected to her computer showed her searching the Batcomputer’s logs. The feed that had been edited was pulled up, and it showed Bruce going into the wall, rocket boots activating. 

“I’ll clean up the footage.” Another flurry of typing came from Barbara before she nodded. “From this angle here, and the time stamp, I can say with ninety percent certainty that this was taken from Green Lantern’s logs.”

Bruce’s eye twitched.

Not to sound cliche, Duke thought, but… My Time Has Come.

Duke snapped his fingers, as if suddenly remembering something. “Oh!” He said,. “So that's why Hal was asking me last month if B had ever messed up in front of me. He said I was the safe one to ask, but I just thought it was because I was new, so I'd be honest.”

Bruce looked Duke dead in the eye, his own was twitching more than Duke on a sugar high.

Everyone held their collective breath.

“Duke.” Bruce enunciated slowly. “Hal. Jordan. Asked. You. That?” He swallowed, as if trying to hold back an explosion. “You’re sure? ”

Duke tilted his head in a confused manner. “ ‘Course I am, Bruce,” he said easily, the result of much practice.

Bruce’s eye twitched.

“Don’t you trust me?” Duke grinned. “I am the Good Child after all.”

*****

The Watchtower was tense with uncertainty. They had all (well, Green Lantern, Green Arrow, The Flash, The Atom, among others. Diana was for some reason excluded. And Clark just refused to show up) been called to meet in the main conference room by Batman.

“Anyone know why Batman is late?” Ollie asked.

There were several shrugs.

“Huh,” Barry said, “I wonder if this has anything to do with the bribe.”

Everyone stared at him.

“The … what? ” Hal asked.

Barry shrugged. “I dunno. Guess we'll see whenever Bruce decides to grace us with his-”

Suddenly, the lights in the room dimmed then brightened again, cutting off everyone’s urge to speak. What… what was that?

There was a screeching like nails on a chalkboard, before the low voice of The Dark Knight rumbled through the room: “You all have made a grievous mistake.”

Someone screamed, and the room went black. 

Chapter Text

There was giggling all throughout the home theater at the Manor where the family were lounging across the big seats wrapped in piles of pillows, and huge fluffy blankets. Sure, it might have seemed a touch overkill, but they were comfortable, and that’s all that really mattered.

Duke reached into the bucket of popcorn and grabbed a handful. He munched, trying not to be too loud, and watched the screen with a devilish joy. I mean, how often is it that you get to see Batman completely decimate the Justice League?

“Ten bucks GL pees his pants!” Jason called out, and there was uproarious laughter.

 “I’ll take that bet,” Steph called back.

Duke leaned back in his seat, taking his eyes away from the screen for a moment to look at his family. Sure, he hadn’t convinced Bruce that the “Good Child” Stereotype was false, and he was, in fact, just as chaotic as the others. But somehow… this felt better.

Duke smiled and curled into the blankets some more as Dick passed him the bag of gummy worms. 

Yeah, yeah this was definitely better.