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Bruce is standing at a grand ball, surrounded by many of his peers; all of them are much taller than him. He doesn’t understand why he has to be the youngest this party, but here he is, standing among adults drinking alcohol and him with a champagne flute of apple juice. None of what the adults are saying makes any sense to Bruce- it’s like they’re trying to talk underwater.
Bruce doesn’t see his dad anywhere either.
He was sure that he’d come here with dad, but not matter how much Bruce looks around, he cannot spot his dad. He’s starting to get scared all alone at this big party with only adults around. He opens his mouth to call out for him, but no sound comes out of his mouth. The people around him instantly become annoyed with him, their faces warped and turned down at him- it looks unnatural. Terrified, he begins to cry, trying to call again for his dad.
This time, his voice does come out. Bruce’s voice is an echoing sob that bounces around the room as he hiccups for his dad.
His dad steps out of a mass of people, striding toward him with purpose and a concerned visage. Alfred Pennyworth quickly scoops him up, soothing him by rubbing his back. The other adults around seem much more annoyed, yelling nonsense at dad as he rubs at Bruce’s back. Their venomous words are starting to trickle into understandable English as they continue to yell. Bruce clings to his dad even more tightly as the words become more clear.
They’re saying that Alfred isn’t really his dad.
They’re shouting that they’re going to take Bruce away from his dad.
They’re reaching for Bruce who clings more tightly to his father so he’s not swept away by their cruel hands.
A man Bruce barely recognizes, wearing a police badge, approaches them and grabs Bruce’s tux and pulling. Bruce clings harder to his dad, screaming fruitlessly at the policeman- who Bruce now recognizes as Commissioner Miller- drags Bruce away from his father’s arms. They’re taking him away from his dad! They can’t do this. That’s his dad.
Bruce howls and bites at the Commissioner that’s in the pocket of the Mob.
“He’s not your parent on paper, Brucie,” Miller says maliciously, “He’ll never be your real father,”
No. Alfred is his dad! Look His dad’s crying! Alfred wants him and he wants Alfred.
“Dad!” Bruce screams.
Bruce wakes up quickly. He doesn’t sit up or startle, but his eyes are suddenly open, peering around in the dim lights of his bedroom with his head resting against his pillows.
Now, nightmares aren’t an unusual occurrence for Bruce- haven’t been since he was eight years old- but this particular one he hasn’t had since he fifteen and doing his first and only stint in boarding school. It’d been the first time he’d been without Alfred since he was six years old, when he’d spent a miserable summer with his Father’s mother before she passed away the following year. Boarding school was hell for Bruce. With his ‘awkward stage’ appearance, the cruelty of rich teens who made fun of his odd accent (due to being raised by Alfred for half his life) and the fact he didn’t have parents, add in his blooming realization of bisexuality, and being away from Alfred it was the year from hell.
He’d refused to return to boarding school for his next year of high school.
But there’s no obvious reason, that he can discern, as to why he would have that dream now.
He’s the happiest he’s been in years. Alfred and all but one of his children reside in the manor now, therapy is actually helping him, and he’s got trusted friends. There’s nothing that comes to mind as to why he would have that old unsettling dream of being taken away from Alfred. No one can, now that Bruce is an adult, but those were things he was told by his peers as a child. It was a worry he had concerning his own children- particularly Dick and Tim- but he’s legally adopted all of them.
The soft knock on his bedroom door pulls him out of his thoughts.
“I’m awake,” his voice sounds rough with sleep as he informs the person, who he assumes is Alfred, that he’s in the waking world.
“Very good, Master Bruce,” Alfred says, “I’ll be off to wake the children then,”
“Thank you, Alfred,”
Bruce rolls out of bed after Alfred’s footsteps have faded away to further down the hall where the children’s rooms are. His joints do their usual series of pops and cracks as he makes his way to the bathroom.
He keeps thinking about the dream as he goes through his morning routine, but despite his vast knowledge in many things Bruce still struggles with healthy psychological and emotional matters. While he would pass it off as just a dream, the fact that this particular one turned into a reoccurring dream and one he hasn’t had in nearly twenty-five years, he resolves himself to discuss it with this therapist. Perhaps he’ll be more capable of figuring out why he’s had this dream again.
After finishing his morning ritual, he heads out of his suite nearly bumping into a drowsy and yawning Tim. He reaches out and steadies his son, who has nearly fallen over in sleepy surprise, earning himself a slurred thanks in return. Bruce supports the sleepy child down the stairs toward the dining room, where Duke and Cassandra are already seated at the table.
Jason comes down next, followed by Damian, both of which are already fully dressed and presentable. Jason dressed for work and Damian simply no longer in his pajamas which can’t be said for Duke, Cass, or Tim.
“Good morning,” Bruce says now that everyone is seated at the table, receiving greetings back from all except Tim, who doesn’t respond until his first cup of coffee is empty. Alfred enters the dining room then, setting out the last of the breakfast spread, “Good morning, Alfred,” Bruce says.
When Alfred smiles back at him, greeting him warmly back with a, “Good Morning, Master Bruce,” all Bruce can see is the tear stained face Alfred wore in his dream and hear his own cries as he called out for his father. Bruce is careful not to let his gut punched sensation show on his face at the table- not in front of Alfred and his children- but it sends a squirming sensation through his gut that makes him want to cry.
“Dad,” Cass says, calling attention away from his thoughts, “Ballet today,” She informs him. She likes to inform him where she’s going civilian-wise for the day. It may be paranoia or caution, but Bruce prefers knowing the general plan of his older children, in case there’s a city wide emergency (like the earthquake) where they may be trapped. He’s grateful that Cass is training her brother’s to do so as well, because Jason and Tim are the most reticent of his children that live at home. Duke and Damian, however, are required to inform him where they’re going while they’re still minors. Generally, he doesn’t mind where they’re going, what they’re doing, or who they’re with, so long as they tell him where so he knows where to start a search if anything happens.
“Work with the Foundation,” Jason says around a mouth full of egg, “Refurbishing the Park Row Public Library. Any of you have donations of books you want to make, just leave ‘em in my car,”
“I’m going to lazer tag with some friends before I start daytime patrol,” Duke pipes up next, “Gonna decimate them,” he continues, fist bumping Jason.
“Maps has invited me on a museum excursion with her Detective Club. They’re casing the collection for items that could potentially be stolen and making a game of guessing who in Gotham would steal them. While I already know this information, I do enjoy admiring the collections themselves,” Damian says next. Bruce has yet to formally meet this friend of Damian’s from school- he’s not brought her or her club over to the manor. Perhaps Damian is wary they’ll find something incriminating? Bruce makes a mental note to inform Damian that he can have more friends over from time-to-time.
Bruce waits expectantly for Tim to inform him of his plans for the day. Bruce has to be patient with morning Tim, else he’ll get an incoherent answer that he can’t make heads nor tells of, but Tim does eventually speak up, “Spending some time in R&D today,” his son yawns out, “Can I ride with you today?”
“Normally, I’d say yes,” Bruce says, “But my appointment is after work today, so you’d have to call Alfred or one of your siblings to bring you home,”
“I’ll give ya a lift, Baby Bird,” Jason says, “Most of my work in the foundations taking place in Wayne Enterprises today. Any reason you want to carpool today?” he asks.
Bruce listens to his children chatter through breakfast as he eats, his dream not forgotten but no longer plaguing him to the extent he was before.
He can’t believe he’d been trying to push this happiness away.
------------🦇🎁------------
His session was productive that day.
His therapist had discussed his dream with him during his session. The theory his therapist subscribes to most is that, because of Bruce’s strides towards stability and healing, that the approaching Father’s Day is different than years before, therefore, playing on his subconscious. He’s not only a father of six, but a son as well- even if it’s not on paper. To the greater world Alfred Pennyworth is only a loyal butler to the Wayne family, but there would be no Wayne Family without Alfred Pennyworth. Now that Bruce is an adult Alfred has no legal ties to Bruce aside from what Bruce has left to the man in his will.
Talking about Alfred with his therapist has had an unforeseen drawback however- Bruce is now aware how anxious he’s been about his ties to Alfred for years.
Alfred raised him and has always been there, but without legal documentation Bruce has always felt like one day Alfred will leave him. He’d expected it when he was sent to the boarding school his father attended, but Alfred was there to welcome him home in the summer. He’d expected it when he left to train, but Alfred was there when he returned. He’d expected it when he took to the streets as Batman, but Alfred supported him through those rough early days. He’d expected Alfred to leave after Jason…died and Bruce began to spiral, but Alfred stayed through the darkest period of Bruce’s life. Bruce expected Alfred to leave when Bruce was trapped in the time stream and was declared dead, but Alfred stayed and helped Bruce’s sons.
Alfred had always been there and proven he would stay with the family, but some part of Bruce would forever be the little boy in the alley that saw two parents leave him forcefully. Bruce, despite knowing that Alfred loves him, always expects Alfred to leave; either because he’d done his duty or through forceful separation.
Bruce’s therapist encouraged him to communicate and ask Alfred how to ease these anxieties together.
After his session, Bruce spends a good ten minutes sitting in his car outside of his therapist’s office calling his lawyers (The poor soul that’s handled all the adoptions of his children in particular) and trying not to talk himself out of his plan. Once he’s finished up the call, Bruce heads home to have dinner and prepare for the night’s patrol.
When he enters the dining room, he’s surprised to see the tablet with Dick’s face smiling back sitting in the middle of the table- he hadn’t expected Dickie to call until after dinner was over, “Hey, Dad,” he says with a small wave.
“Hello, Dickie,” Bruce replies, “Are you eating dinner?”
The silence at the other end is upsettingly expected, “Richard John Grayson-Wayne,” Bruce growls, “I know you know how to cook. Why do you not care for yourself? You get thinner every time I see you- it’s ridiculous! You already overwork yourself- a trait I blame myself for- but why on earth would you skip meals?”
Bruce is aware he’s being a naggy hypocrite, but damn it he’s so tired of seeing his kids suffer- even if it’s because of bad habits they’ve picked up from him.
“Aaah! Help! Help! I’m being oppressed!” Dick cries but doesn’t hang up, “I’ll get food after, I promise!”
“No, Dickie- Now. It’ll be like you’re having dinner with us during the week. It’ll be nice to have all my children at the table after my session today,” he’s aware it’s a little manipulative (even if it is true. He loves having all his children within sight, especially after his sessions with his therapist- they’re emotionally tiring.), but he’ll use whatever methods he must if it’ll keep his kids healthy, and playing on Dick’s familial heartstrings wins out quite frequently.
Dick sighs, grabbing his phone to order takeout. It’s not what Bruce would have preferred but it’ll do for now.
Alfred serves up dinner after Dick’s order arrives and Bruce enjoys eating with all of his children thoroughly. It’s times like these that he wishes he could go back, knowing what he does now, and let himself enjoy it when they were younger. In all, if he’s being honest about his selfishness, there’s little he would change; if only because changing too much might mean that he wouldn’t get to be a father.
“It’s been ages since one of us got full-named by Pops,” Jason says midway through dinner, “I’m just shocked it wasn’t me,”
Bruce smirks at his second eldest, “If you want, Jaylad, we can talk about Russia,”
Jason’s silence is very telling while his siblings snicker none too quietly. Bruce won’t actually scold Jason for his actions in Russia- it was part of their compromise after all- but he will let Jason know he’s aware of the massive pile of bodies stacked outside the Russian president’s home, all of which were traffickers under the man’s employ, “You better have had backup, Jason Peter Wayne,”
Jason sighs, nodding, “I did. Artemis went with me,”
“Thank you,” Bruce says, taking a bite of his dinner.
Dinner carries on as usual after that; chatter and teasing and Bruce putting a stop to building arguments between his kids. Bruce is amused to note that there’ve been subtle factions that have formed among the siblings that have served to a peace and balance among them.
Dick, Jay, and Cass form the older siblings while Tim, Duke, and Damian form the younger siblings. There’s many other sibling alliances that separate beyond that as well- the most amusing being Tim and Damian forming a team against Dick and Jay when the time calls for it. There’re still arguments, of course, but Bruce no longer worries about potential bloodshed among them.
Bruce’s eldest finishes his dinner first and then informs them he’s going to get ready for patrol. Dick subtly nods to his siblings- though; Bruce does still catch it- and ends the video call. His kids were up to something clearly. He’s got a good idea of what they’re up to, as Bruce is also planning something. This will be the first Father’s Day that his entire family will be home- barring missions or disaster.
Whatever the kids have planned he’ll be happy with.
------------🦇🎁------------
Bruce gets a call from his lawyer later in the week, informing him that the paperwork his finished. This is the fastest Bruce has ever received legal paperwork, and his lawyer sounds tired, so Bruce decides to add a bonus to the next retainer pay for this one as a thank you.
He picks it up on the way home, after which he decides he’ll pick up a little something extra to give Alfred on Sunday. Bruce won’t admit it aloud, but he’s rather nervous about asking this of the man who raised him. The extra present is deserved but it’ll be something in case Alfred turns down his request.
The spa he enters is exclusive and safe, he’s checked on this place countless times as Batman- places this exclusive with no mob connections tend to traffic as a side hustle- so he knows Alfred will receive excellent care there. It has no particular specialty, as it caters only to Gotham’s elite, they’ve got a highly skilled variety of specialists on staff here. From estheticians to nail techs to masseuses, they’ve got the best in Gotham.
He’s greeted at the door by professional looking young man dressed in dark blue. The young man talks Bruce through the package options, but Bruce insists on the all-inclusive option and that it’s a gift. The employee looks bewildered, obviously never having had one of their packages be a gift before. Bruce is very insistent on getting a pass for Alfred, however. He’s well aware that he’ll get one regardless- he’s Bruce Wayne.
He’s correct.
After his business concludes there, Bruce heads home.
Dinner with the family is chaotic that night. Apparently, Jason and Damian are having a dispute that has escalated to the point that neither remembers what originally started it all. Tim is actively not taking sides in this dispute, but has been subtly egging it on. Duke is studiously ignoring the argument while Cass is finding amusement in it; that puts Bruce at ease. If Cass isn’t concerned that means Bruce won’t have to stop an attempted murder.
He’s been told multiple times by peers and friends with siblings that this behavior is normal, but as an only child, Bruce has genuinely no idea.
“I will eviscerate you, Todd,” Damian hisses from one side of the table. Jason, much better than Damian at putting on a mockingly cool façade due to his age, smirks back at his youngest sibling, “Can you even reach that high? You only come up to my nuts,” Jason taunts back.
“Boys,” Bruce sighs, seeing things are quickly getting out of hand for his sanity, “That’s enough. I don’t know what started this, but at this point do either of you?”
The silence that follows is broken by Cassandra snorting. Bruce throws a scolding look her way- he so rarely ever has to scold Cassandra, but there are times when she struggles with limits. “Sorry, Dad,”
Bruce nods at her, pleased, but turns his stern face back to his second eldest and youngest sons, “So what’s the fight about? Hm?” he asks. Jason and Damian glare at one another, willing the other to answer first, which is further proof that the argument started as something minor and forgettable but escalated due to them being his most prideful children. Neither wants to be the one to tell him that it was something inane. Bruce sighs, ready to ask Tim. Though he knows the children have set rules of not getting in other siblings’ disputes, in any capacity, lest they be turned against by the warring parties. Those unspoken rules only apply if they inform Bruce or Alfred. Taking a side in the conflict in general is permitted, but going to Bruce or Alfred about the conflict is taboo.
Hence; Tim, Cass, and Duke are steadfastly quiet while Bruce awaits a reply from the other two.
“Todd started it, Father,” Damian says, breaking the silence.
“Oh I did not!” Jason hisses back, leaning forward over the table.
“Boys!” Bruce silences both of them, “What is the fight about?” he asks again.
“Todd drank my last bottle of organic apple juice and refuses to replace it! I come home from school and that wretch was just finishing off my juice. When I demanded he go get me another one right that moment, he refused, stating it was only apple juice! It was mine,” Damian says, wearing what is the equivalent of a pout on his face. To anyone outside this family, his face would be coolly offended, but to those that know him he’s absolutely pouting.
“You had it in the communal fridge! Of course someone was going to drink it! Besides, it really is just apple juice! I’ll get you more tomorrow, but I wasn’t going to just up and leave the house to go buy your fancy ass glass bottle apple juice- you didn’t have to fuckin’ attack me,” Jason rolls his eyes, leaning back into his chair.
Bruce rubs his temples. He was correct- this was started by something very inane. It’s not the first time, nor will it be the last, that this type of fight has been had. All of his children were born only children and came to him at older ages; therefore, the normally early taught concept of sharing with siblings was a thing they’re still learning. Damian in particular struggles with sharing period, but Jason and Cassandra predominately struggle sharing food related items. Both often subconsciously revert to taking food and drink based opportunities, eating and drinking other’s unlabeled items even when they’re both very provided for.
Bruce takes a deep breath, “I see. Jason, you know those are your brother’s, even in the communal refrigerator, you shouldn’t have taken it without asking permission first- you would not like it if he took one of your personal snacks. Damian, I understand that it was annoying that your brother drank your juice, but that’s no reason to attack him- you know he’ll replace it or pay for it soon enough,” Bruce bridges his hands together looking at both of them, “I don’t expect you kids to share all of your items, far from it, but easily replaceable items are no grounds for escalating or dragging out the arguments. Understood?”
“Yes, Father,” Damian nods regally, but he’s sulking at the scolding for sure.
“Sure, Pops,” Jason doesn’t meet Bruce’s eyes.
“Good. Now, no more fighting at the table- you know how Alfred feels about it,” Bruce says, taking a bite of his food. Bruce feels pretty proud of himself disarming the situation before it escalated further. He’s starting to really feel like a father and not just a man who took in and loves these kids.
He wonders how Alfred would have handled everything if Bruce had a sibling.
It’s an amusing thought.
------------🦇🎁------------
Eventually, Sunday comes.
Bruce had made sure patrol was cut early the night before, as to allow Alfred some rest instead of assisting in manning the comms, but he’s fairly certain that his kids stayed up far later than either Bruce or their Grandfather.
When Bruce heads downstairs for breakfast, however, he’s greeted by Alfred sitting at the table already. Confused, Bruce turns toward the kitchen door just as Dick and Jason enter the dining room carrying serving plates of food; it’s the makings of a full English breakfast- Bruce and Alfred’s favorite. His boys spot him fairly quickly, ordering him to his usual seat at the table, before heading back to the kitchen to get the rest of breakfast.
He looks to Alfred with a smile on his face and receives one in return.
Cassandra and Damian next to enter the room- though not through the kitchen door, but from the parlor door- they’ve got Titus and Ace trailing behind them, freshly walked and washed. Bruce is surprised they gave the dogs baths this early, but he supposes that they’ve all got plans for the day and wanted to get it done early, “Good morning, Damian, Cass,” Bruce smiles.
“Good morning, Father. Happy Father’s day,” Damian says, taking a seat at the table.
“Morning, Dad. Happy Father’s day!” Cass pipes cheerfully.
The two also wish Alfred a happy Father’s day as Bruce sips on his coffee.
Ace trots up to Bruce, laying his head on Bruce’s lap, and huffs. The shepherd is clearly asking to be stroked, a request Bruce is happy to oblige for his loyal pup, “Good morning to you too, Ace. Did Damian and Cass get you all clean?” Bruce asks the dog, scratching him behind the ears. Ace gives him a small huffed bark in reply.
Duke and Tim enter the dining room next from the door to the residence landing- Jason and Dick carrying in the last of the breakfast dishes at the same moment- and take their seats, greeting everyone and wishing Bruce and Alfred a happy Father’s day. Bruce returns the greetings, as does Alfred, and waits patiently for all of his children to be seated before digging into breakfast. He doesn’t have to wait long, as Dick and Jay sit down quickly in their usual spots after Jason serves Alfred a fresh cuppa.
“Father’s day Special: a full English breakfast,” Dick announces.
“Thank you, boys,” Alfred says, sipping on his provided tea, “I noticed when I’d woken this morning that the house had been cleaned as well. You all did a splendid job,”
Breakfast carries on, the family chatting, and the children do not bicker for once, which is refreshing. Once breakfast has been finished, Tim and Duke gather up the dishes and carry them to the kitchen for washing, leaving the others to fetch what Bruce assumes are gifts for he and Alfred, so Bruce does the same. He’s kept the manila envelope hidden perfectly away behind some heirlooms in the safe within his study, having been so wary of Alfred finding it before today Bruce may have changed the safe’s combination every night.
There’s a semi-circle of gifts in front of his seat when he returns to the dining room- Alfred too has presents placed in front of him, waiting patiently for Bruce.
Bruce wordlessly places the envelope before Alfred, the smaller one containing the spa pass, before returning to his seat to look over his own gifts- he carefully does not give Alfred the manila envelope just yet. For the most part, Father’s day is shaping up to be a more relaxed affair than earlier events this year, which Bruce is perfectly fine and happy with.
Opening his gifts from his kids, he was correct in his assumption that Father’s day is a little more relaxed than other holidays and birthdays this year- his kids have all gotten him something that’s typical for the holiday. Dick’s gift is a book of dad jokes (teasing him all the while), Jason’s a horridly tacky necktie (Bruce will wear this frequently- he’ll embarrass his son with it), Cass’ gift is a work-out tank (it says ‘Dad Bod’ on it), Tim gets him a set of pair mugs (they match- the mugs indicate it’s Bruce’s fault Tim has a caffeine addiction, which isn’t false), Duke has gotten him a lovely card, and Damian naturally breaks the mold and gets him quite the expensive tie-clip.
They’re all fun and humorous gifts (aside from Damian’s) and Bruce loves all of them. He may not seem like it most of the time, but he appreciates these sorts of presents the most- they make him feel normal and cherished. He’d take them a million times over a diamond encrusted designer watch any day.
Alfred’s gifts from the kids have their own humor, but soon enough Alfred’s opened all his gifts and thanked them, leaving Bruce without any excuse to put off handing the manila envelope to the man that raised him.
“Alfred,” Bruce says, his voice even and face smooth despite the maelstrom of nerves inside of him, “I have something else for you,”
“Oh? I am quite pleased with the spa pass you’ve gotten me, Master Bruce, though I am happy that you’ve thought of me,” Alfred says taking the envelope into his hands.
“It’s…actually more of a request. This has no bearing on how the future will be regardless of the answer you give,” Bruce takes a deep breath, “You can respond however you’d like, but it’s something I want- have wanted for longer than I realized,” Alfred and the kids look understandably confused, their interest in the envelope doubles immediately. When Alfred begins to open the envelope Bruce’s whole body locks up with nerves, but he refuses to lower his gaze. He won’t avoid whatever reaction the father he loves so much’s reaction might be, even if it’s a negative one.
He locks his gaze onto Alfred’s eyes as he reads the paperwork over- see the moment Alfred understands what Bruce is asking for. The man’s eyes fill with tears as he runs his hand over the adoption papers Bruce has asked Alfred to sign, “Bruce,” he croaks, bringing the papers to his chest and smiling at Bruce.
“Happy,” Cassandra says, beaming at Alfred, “Very happy!”
“Indeed, Miss Cass, I am so happy,” Alfred sniffles, very unbecoming of an English gentleman such as himself, but he doesn’t looks too fussed about it at the moment, “Oh Bruce, of course. Of course, my dear dear boy,”
The wave of relief nearly bowls Bruce over as his own tears fill his eyes, “Really? You want to?” Bruce’s voice cracks as he asks. Alfred gingerly sets the papers down in the table before standing and making his way over to Bruce. Bruce is embraced in a hug that’s always made him feel so safe- even when it felt like his whole world was crashing down. Alfred runs his fingers through his hair- Bruce can feel Alfred’s tears falling on his forehead- as Bruce returns the embrace, “Oh, Bruce. It’s something I’ve wanted since you were a boy, but I didn’t wish to overstep and cause you hurt; I consoled myself with watching over you for the rest of my days,” Alfred whispers, brushing the tears flowing out of Bruce’s eyes.
Bruce holds his father more tightly, burying his face in the still strong chest of the man whose raised him with love, “I love you, Dad,” he croaks, “Happy Father’s day,”
“I love you too, Bruce. I’ll always be by your side, my son,” Alfred says, soothing him, “I best get a pen now- I have papers to sign,”
“I’ll get it!” Dick cheers, his own eyes filled with tears, “Can’t keep Grandad waiting,” he darts off to the study to fetch a pen, leaving the rest of his siblings pouring over the adoption papers. Jason’s crying nearly as hard as he did the day Bruce adopted him, but his boy’s smiling the same way he was back then, so Bruce isn’t worried. Tim’s eyes are also teary and moist and no matter how much he’s wiping his eyes they won’t dry. Cass and Duke are beaming brightly, large smiles overtaking their whole faces, Damian appears to be deep in thought. Bruce hopes this isn’t upsetting for him- as the only child Bruce didn’t adopt Damian may be feeling his world shift and change again.
Soon enough, however, after Dickie’s returned from the study with a fountain pen, Damian seems to resolve something within himself- nodding with determination as his shoulders loosen.
“Grandfather,” Damian says, shocking all of them, “Are you ready to sign?”
The pause following the statement stretches onward, only for the ever wonderful Alfred Pennyworth to break with a small smile as he takes the pen in hand, “Of course, my boy,”
The second Alfred signs the papers Cass pulls everyone into a massive hug.
Jason’s still crying, being ribbed by Dick, while Damian hollers and Tim sniffles, but now Bruce’s family is legally complete.
He never has that nightmare again.