Chapter Text
-The Start-
Bruce Wayne didn't mind being in Europe. It was certainly more enjoyable than some of the other places he has been, as both Batman and Bruce Wayne. Dick often compared the dark overcast skies of London to Gotham. There was something about the undertone of rain that stuck to the air that reminded him so much of home. Home. He supposed that even the big, scary Batman was capable of getting homesick. It wasn't just Gotham itself that he missed though, Bruce was starting to miss all of his children and it made his heart ache remembering that he was so far away from them.
He had been in Europe for nearly two weeks working on an investigation for the JLA. A new drug had sprung up in most of their major cities. Ollie and Bruce had brought the issue to the attention of the League, and Bruce hadn't even noticed the drug until Ollie approved him about it.
According to Jason, who'd managed to snag some off of one of his sources, someone was cutting the opiate with chemicals, causing the chances of having an overdose to skyrocket. They'd gotten a tip that a wearhouse in London might be a stash house for the original source,so Bruce immediately hopped on a plane and made his way here. A quick call with his CEO's in London gave Bruce Wayne the perfect reason to be in London for the next few weeks.
The meeting with the supervisors had been yesterday, and Bruce spent the rest of the day scoping out the London docks for the source of the drugs. He came up empty, though; it looked like every warehouse that may have had something in it was clean.
For the first time in a while, Bruce found himself at a loss of what to do with his time. At least he now knew what his children meant when they said they were bored, despite the mountains of reports Bruce knew they needed to write for the League. This lead him to walk aimlessly throughout the streets of London, occasionally stopping at shops when something in the window caught his eye.
A pretty diamond cat had stood out to him a few blocks back, but upon entering the store and looking at it more closely, it turned out to be a fake. Never in a million years would Bruce gift fake diamonds to Selina. She would skin him alive before he could even think about apologizing.
Lost in his thoughts about certain cats and his children, Bruce didn't notice the boy until he, quite literally,ran into him. The boy hardly came up to Bruce's chest, so when he ran full speed into him, he knocked himself slightly off balance. Thankfully, Bruce has fast reflexes and was able to stop the kid from falling flat onto the sidewalk.
"Hey kid, are you alright?" Bruce looked at the child and took in his appearance with his concern growing rapidly. His clothes looked like they belonged on a whale instead of him, and the glasses he wore had cracks and fractures in places. Underneath the glasses were wide emerald green eyes that looked frantically around them. The boy was rambling off apologies, not allowing Bruce to eat a word in edge wise so he gently placed his hands on the kid's shoulders to calm him down. This had the opposite effect as he violently flinched away from the touch. Red flags flashed in his head in warning and Bruce prepared to look into the kid's family, if he even had one at all.
Bruce smiled and looked the kid in the eyes while promising him that it was okay. The longer he looked at the boy, the more similarities he found between the two of them. Their facial structure and eye shape were nearly identical, the difference being the vastly different colors of their eyes, and the kid's skin was shades darker than his. The green color of his eyes sparked a familiarity in Bruce, but he pushed it aside for the time being.
"Hey, kid what-" a tall, thin woman storming up to them abruptly cut him off as she angrily yanking the boy from him.
"Boy! What have I told you about bothering good people with your freakish presence?" The woman shouted disgustedly at the kid. The kid in question just stood there looking more bored and unamused than alarmed that the woman was gripping his arm tight enough Bruce was beginning to worry about circulation.
"Ma'am, he wasn't bothering me. We simply bumped into each other and he was apologizing." Bruce tried to quickly explain and deescalate the situation. He compared the woman's appearance with that of the child's, which didn't match up in the slightest. While the boy looked as if he had pulled his clothing out of the trash, the woman dressed in what looked to be brand new clothes. It was clear that they knew each other, and Bruce hoped that she wasn't the kid's mother.
Her face reddened as her anger grew. She continued to hiss at the boy, "You stupid, useless waste of space! One would think with all the money your uncle and I spend on those glasses, you would be able to see where you're walking!" Before Bruce could do anything, the woman had raised her hand and stroked the child across the cheek.
Anger clouded his vision, and Bruce quickly stepped between the woman and the boy. A quick glance at the kid assured he was alright, and he turned his attention back to the lady, "Ma'am, please do not hit him. Let's all take a breath and calm down." The clothing, flinching, and damaged glasses began to click into place and there wasn't anything Bruce hated more than child abusers.
Turning back to the kid but keeping an eye on the lady, Bruce softly asked again, "Hey kid, are you alright?" He nodded, and that was when Bruce noticed the small crowd that'd began to form around them. In between the yelling and someone actually getting hit, it was a wonder there weren't more people. The woman seemed to notice this at the same time as Bruce because she frantically looked around and then seemed to make up her mind. She just walked off in the other direction, soon lost to the growing crowd of people, leaving who Bruce assumed was her nephew alone with a stranger in the streets of London.
Bruce withheld himself from letting out a huge sigh and instead looked at the kid again. He looked around 13 and Bruce hoped that he wouldn't break down crying because his aunt was gone. To his relief, the kid was looking at him with a raised eyebrow as if to ask, 'What next?'
Extending a hand towards the boy, Bruce smiled again and offered, "Are you hungry?"
—
Sitting down at the booth of a family-owned deli, Bruce looked at the kid in front of him, who was already digging into his food. The way the kid scarfed down the sandwich, Bruce would assume that the kid hadn't eaten in days. But considering the reason they were sitting here, it wouldn't surprise him if he hadn't.
"So, kid, what's your name?" Grabbing a fork and knife, Bruce cut into his sandwich.
"Harry."
He waited for the kid to continue. He didn't "Just Harry?"
"Hadrian Potter, but everyone calls me Harry" The kid seemed to search his face for something before seeming satisfied and turning back to the bag of chips in his hand.
"Well, Hadrian. I'm Bruce Wayne." The kid didn't seem to recognize Bruce's name, and some part of him was glad he didn't have to deal with another fan. Harry just hummed in response.
"Do you mind if I ask who that woman was on the street?"
A cold look overtook the boy's face as the kid scoffed, "Legally? She's my aunt. Although she would act positively horrified if anyone ever referred to us as being related." Harry rolled his eyes and took a long sip of his soda.
"And your parents are..." Bruce prompted.
"Dead. Murdered in their own home at the bright age of 20." Damn, this kid was blunt. Bruce immediately sympathized with this kid. He knew from experience that it was not easy to lose parents. From his own childhood and all the children he'd raised who'd lost their parents or parental figures.
Bruce knew better than to show any pity or show any sadness on his face, so he went with a subject change. "Has your aunt done this before?"
Hadrian crossed his arms and leaned back further into the booth. "Which one? Hit me or leave me to fend for myself on the streets of London?"
"Both?"
"Yep," he said, popping the p at the end. The good thing was that Hadrian didn't seem to have any fondness towards his aunt. In most situation children would feel as if it was their fault their families treated them this way. Years of brainwashing and emotional abuse being the primary cause. Hadrian was different, he clearly understood that what his aunt did was wrong and that it wasn't the norm.
"I have some connections at the local precinct, I can get the authorities involved if you want." Bruce knew he shouldn't be giving the kid a choice and should go straight to the police but Bruce knew how useless Child Protective Services could be.
Hadrian chuckled, "Don't bother. I have somewhere I can stay for the night and I'll head back to Surrey in the morning. They'll be missing me soon enough when they don't have anyone to clean their dishes and cook their meals."
"They treat you like this and expect you to do their chores?"
"Yep."
"And I'm giving you a way out."
"Yep,"
"And you aren't going to take it."
"Nope."
"Why?"
"Why not? Why leave one toxic abusive household to go into a system where I could end up dead?" Well, at least the kid was aware. "At least with the Dursleys, I know they won't kill me. Petunia doesn't have the heart because my bright green eyes remind her too much of her late sister. And Vernon loves her too much to disagree, otherwise he would have drowned me the minute I showed up on their doorstep as a baby." The kid finished off his drink and stood from the booth. "Thanks for the meal Mr. Wayne, but I doubt we'll run into each other again, so I suppose this is goodbye." Without giving Bruce the chance to respond, Hadrian walked straight out of the doors of the restaurant and disappeared into the crowded streets. Bruce watched as he crossed the street and met up with a tall man in a beige coat. The two walked down the street before slipping into an alleyway.
Bruce knew that he shouldn't have let the kid just walk off like that, but he couldn't exactly keep the kid here if he didn't want to be. Despite all of his children's claims, he wasn't a kidnapper.
Throughout that entire extraction, something had been nagging Bruce to no end. His eyes. The green was so unusual and unique, and Bruce knew that he had seen them before. He ran over all the notable people in his life who had green eyes and couldn't come up with an answer. Hadrian's eyes hadn't been green like Jason's, so he didn't need to worry about the Lazarus Pit. All the Lanterns' eyes only glowed green when they had their ring and his hands had been bare.
His mind drew up blank, and finally Bruce sighed. Fuck it. Grabbing the cup that Hadrian had left on the table, Bruce left 100 euros on the table and made his way back to where he parked his car.
Climbing into the front seat, he booted up the computer that he kept under the seat at all times. A quick DNA test wouldn't harm anyone and frankly, Bruce was getting annoyed at being unable to remember where he had seen those green eyes before.
He swabbed the straw of the cup and went through the motions of inserting all the data needed. The information took about 10 minutes to fully process, and Bruce took the time to scroll aimlessly through Twitter. While he didn't use it often, his children had convinced him to get it. He did admit that it was a good way to keep up with what was happening in Gotham.
Apparently, there had been a robbery at Gotham National bank this morning. Signal, Nightwing, and Spoiler had taken care of it. The three of them didn't team up too often, so Bruce was curious to read their report when he returned to Gotham. While Bruce could hope his children wouldn't cause too much trouble while he was gone, that would take an act of god and Bruce knew not even Diana could perform miracles.
They had apparently seen Red Hood taking down another Human trafficking ring last night. There were no casualties, so Bruce couldn't be too mad. What he was more upset about was Roy Harper and Koriand'r being in his city. Bruce had made it clear numerous times that metas and aliens were not welcome in Gotham. He would have to have another talk with Jason about his friends 'vacationing' in Gotham. All in all, no one had died and none of his rouges had managed to take over the city so Bruce would consider that a win.
A ding sounded from his computer, indicating that the results of the DNA test were complete. Typing a few things into the computer, he began running the sample through the League, Cadmus, STAAR Labs, GCPD, Wayne Industries, Queen Industries, and any other database he could think of that he had access to.
To his relief, he got a match in the Wayne industries and the JLA database. Clicking once the screen opened up to the person the match corresponded to, and Bruce's stomach dropped. Staring right back at him on his screen was his standard yearly photo of Wayne Enterprises.
Hadrian was his son.
In retrospect, this shouldn't have been such a surprise, but Bruce still found himself staring dumbly at the screen in front of him, not knowing what to do or how to react. At first he pondering if he may have grabbed the wrong cup at the diner but then dismissed that thought. He didn't make mistakes like that.
Carefully looking back over the DNA results, it forced Bruce to come to terms with the facts. Exactly half of Hadrian's DNA was his, and Bruce had another son. He had a son who'd grown up without a father, again. Guilt began to grow in his gut as he remembered the situation from earlier and the environment that his son had probably grown up in. He'd failed, again.
Tapping on his keyboard, Bruce pulled up the CCTV surrounding the area around the diner. He was going to find Hadrian and hopefully not make the same mistakes he'd done with Damian.
—
Walking out from the deli, Harry quickly crossed the street to meet the person he'd been waiting for on the other side. He dressed in a large beige trench coat and wore a hat to conceal most of his features. The two of them walked in silence for a block before turning into a shaded alleyway.
They walked until they hit a dead end and, after checking to make sure they hadn't bee followed, began to speak. "I still don't know why you called me here. It seems to me that you handled the situation just fine, and got a free meal from that rich dude." Barty questioned.
Harry rolled his eyes. "I had you follow me because I knew Petunia didn't just take me out to London for a shopping trip. I also decided that if she pulled something like this, I wasn't going back to the Dursley's. Hence why I need you to go to Surrey and get my stuff."
Barty nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I don't have a problem with doing that. I just need to me back to the manor by morning before My Lord realizes that I'm gone." With that, Barty twisted away and disaparated.
Harry nodded. It should only take Barty a few minutes at most to get the stuff. Some may think it was weird that he was friends with a man who followed the person who killed his parents, but Harry could care less. At some point during that past school year, Harry had figured out that it wasn't the real Moody teaching them. It didn't take much searching to figure out it was Bartimus Crouch Jr. especially when he looked at the map and put two and two together. Instead of turning him over to the Ministry, Harry decided to keep Barty's secret and somehow they realized that they had a lot in common with each other.
Barty was hilarious and was one of the few friends Harry felt that he didn't have to hide himself around. They discussed magic, muggle sciences, government systems in both the muggle and magical worlds and Harry found himself enjoying all the time that he spent with Barty. This didn't stop what happened in the graveyard, however, and Harry could still see the flash of green as Cedric fell to the ground lifeless.
Harry assumed that after Barty returned to Voldemort, that would be the last of the two of them being friends. They were on different sides of this war and there wasn't anything they could do about it. So when Harry had been walking to the park on the first day of break and Barty showed up next to him, he'd nearly cried in surprised. Perhaps it should have been awkward after what happened in the graveyard, but Harry was just glad to have someone to talk to again.
Last night when Petunia suggested that the two of them go shopping in London today, Harry had been immediately suspicious. Petunia never took him shopping, insisting that he would slow her down and be a distraction. So Harry has quickly sent an owl to Barty requesting that he follow him and Petunia during their outing in case she decided to try something. That turned out to be the right decision because, of course, she decided to leave him along in the streets on London with a complete stranger. But at least he got a meal out of it.
Deciding that he'd spent enough time pondering all of his life decisions, Harry figured that he might as well figure out where in London he actually was. So turning on his toe, he apperated to the top of the building closet to him and looked around. The surrounding buildings looked vaguely familiar and after jumping across a few rooftops, Harry was able to get a better gauge of where he was. Sliding down a drainage pipe, he was on the ground again and wasted no time getting onto the main street.
It was only 2 in the afternoon, so Harry had a few hours before he needed to start worrying about crooks coming out of back alleys. Despite all that needed to be done, Harry was still curious about the stranger that had defended in from Petunia and took him for lunch afterward. Based on what the man had been wearing, Harry could assume he had a lot of money. Lots of money meant that he be well known. All Harry had to do now was get access to a computer and it should answer his questions with a quick search. A public library seemed like a good place to start and Harry knew one that was within walking distance. Crossing the street and walking past a plain black sports car, Harry walked up the mountain of step to the Library.
When he entered the library, Harry instantly felt at peace by the smell of ink and paper. All the noise and chatter from outside ceased the second he walked through that door. He didn't stop to greet any of the librarians, focusing on getting to the computer as fast as possible.
Glancing at the login information written on the table, Harry began to type away. A few clicks later, he was typing 'Bruce Wayne' into the search bar. Hundreds if not thousands of results popped up, and Harry found himself taken aback. Reading through the first link, it gave an overview of the apparent billionaire's life over the last 31 years. The death of Tomas and Martha Wayne, Bruce becoming an orphan, disappearing off the radar for a few years, returning to Gotham to take up his father's place as CEO of Wayne industries, and the many scandals about the infamous billionaire playboy. The internet certainly had a lot to say about Bruce Wayne and Harry continued to scroll the results full of shocking news and drama.
While a majority of the articles were full of speculations about Wayne's love life and who he slept with. Underneath all of that laid the money and resources Bruce Wayne had flooded into the poorer communities of his city, Gotham. Everyone seemed to be under the impression that Bruce Wayne was a clueless rich playboy, but Harry wasn't so sure. Some of these donations and foundations couldn't have passed without the CEO's permission and that fell to Bruce Wayne. Looking through the images tab, it mostly had with pictures of a drunk Bruce stumbling through a crowd with a woman on his arm.
Mindlessly scrolling at this point, Harry doubted he's seen anything else that caught his eye. Almost ready to come to the conclusion that Wayne had just been helping him out of the goodness of his heart, then he froze. Quickly clicking on the image to enlarge it Harry looked at the image closely and his jaw dropped.
Pressed against Bruce Wayne was Lily Potter. His mother was smiling up at Wayne and he was softly grinning at her. Harry's mind whirled at the picture of his beautiful mother smiling. Emotions swirled through him and Harry couldn't help but smile. Lily with her long red hair contrasting against her dark skin and striking green eyes looked so free in the picture. Harry was so focused on his mum that it took his brain a bit to catch up. Why was Lily in America? The picture looked like they had taken it during Lily's 7th year but everyone had said that's when she and James started dating. Harry had so many questions, but one thing remained clear.
One thing was clear though: he needed to find Bruce Wayne again.
—
The last thing that Harry wanted to be doing at 11:30 at night was hanging out in a dark alley. He might be capable of defending himself in both magical and muggle ways, but that didn't mean he wanted to resort to that. He was well aware of the dangers of a 15-year-old being out on the streets past midnight.
Huffing another breath into the warm, humid air of London, Harry rested his back against the brick wall behind him. Where the hell was Barty? They'd agreed to meet a few hours later and yet here Harry was, nearly 10 hours later, still waiting.A distant crack in the air had Harry pushing himself off of the wall and moving towards the middle of the alley.
"What the hell took you so long?" Harry snarled at the man. Annoyed that he'd forced him to wait for so long.
Barty smiled at him and expended an arm with this trunk in it. "Sorry, Hadrian. He decided to send me on a mission to check up on some of the old Death Eaters. Spent hours staking them out at jobs and their houses. Then he wanted full reports on what I found, which wasn't much given most of them work full time with families."
Harry listened as he grabbed his trunk and set it down lightly on the ground next to him. "He doesn't suspect that we've been meeting up, right?" The last thing Harry wanted was for Barty to get killed because of their friendship. He'd already lost one friend this year, he didn't need another.
Barty shook his head. "Nope, not sure how much I'll be able to get out now that he's working on getting everyone back."
"I get it, Barty," Harry knew that he was toeing a dangerous line just by talking to him. "You're still going to send letters?"
"Of course I will."
"Thanks for getting my stuff. You should go before he starts wondering where you are."
The man rolled his eyes and slowly backed into the dark shadow of the alley. Harry heard the pop of apparition and he smiled sadly before turning around. "You can come out now. No need to hide in the shadows."
A figure slowly made its way toward Harry and soon he was able to make out who it was. "Mr. Wayne! What a surprise to see you twice in one day." Harry's posture relaxed and bit as he took in the man, looking at him in suspicion. Wayne was still in the pristine suit that he had eaten lunch in, but the man's demeanor seemed different even if he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He noticed the moment Wayne had attempted to sneak up on him and Barty. Thankfully he hadn't overheard them talking about anything too incriminating.
Harry could see the man looking around the alley for where Barty had gone. But of course he found nothing and the older man looked back at Harry through the dark alley, "You probably shouldn't be out this late by yourself."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Sorry to break it to you Mr. Wayne, but I don't exactly have parents or responsible guardians to enforce that rule."
The man seemed to grimace before taking another step toward Harry. "I understand that, but it would be irresponsible of me to just leave you here by yourself."
"Isn't your whole 'playboy persona' based on the act that Bruce Wayne is irresponsible?"
"So you do know who I am?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "You didn't seem to recognize my name earlier."
"Public libraries can be very beneficial." They stared at each other in silence for a while until Harry had enough, picked up his trunk, and walked past Wayne into the street behind them.
"Where are you going?"
"The park up the street. You're free to join me if you want." The two of them walked in silence for a bit before Wayne turned to him and asked. "Who were you talking with in the Alley earlier?"
Harry faked a laugh. "Why? Worried I was selling drugs?"
Wayne shrugged and looked through one of the windows they passed. "It's possible."
"Well, I wasn't." Harry looked closely at the man walking next to him. "If you must know, I was talking to one of my friends. He was able to pick up my stuff from my aunt's house." He explained, gently waving his trunk that was thankfully gifted with a feather-light charm. Otherwise, there would be no way he could carry it with all the books stashed in it.
Wayne didn't say anything, just kept staring into the distance as the two of them got closer to the park. When they got there, Harry was able to quickly find a bench under a tree and they both sat down.
It was pitch black outside, but the lamps lining the sidewalks and benches allowed them to see perfectly fine. The weather was comfortably cool, with a light breeze blowing in their direction. Harry just stared at the pavement, memorizing the cracks and crevices that covered it. It was only when Wayne sighed that Harry looked up from the ground and met his eyes.
"I-I don't really know how to say this. It may sound weird, a little disturbing, but bear with me, alright?" He waited until Harry nodded before starting. "When we talked during lunch, I couldn't help but notice that your eyes reminded me of someone I knew. It bugged me, so finally I just took the cup you'd left in the deli and ran a DNA test on it."
Harry cut him off, not caring if he was being weird. "Wait. so you just happen to have a DNA testing kit in your car? I get you're a billionaire, but that sound a little weird even for rich people." Harry should know he went to school with rich kids, ignoring the fact that he too had more than a small fortune to his name. Besides, having his DNA taken to run a DNA test was a lot less invasive than some of the other things that have happened to him. Weird billionaires he could do, teenagers with access to love potions he could not.
Bruce huffed what could have been a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. "I've had... incidents that required me to perform DNA test." Harry looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but Bruce just shook his head and kept going. "I ran your DNA through a couple of the systems that I have access to and didn't really expect anything to show up. But I was still curious and wanted to make sure. Imagine my surprise when I see my face pop up on the screen. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, Harry, you're my son."
Silence ran out between them, and Harry's focus once again returned to the pavement below them. His head span as his entire life turned on his head. He had so many questions. Harry didn't think that Wayne was lying. After all, what would a rich man want with a teenager... actually Harry wasn't even going to entertain that thought.
But what did begin to make sense was the picture he saw online with Wayne and his mum. The year they took it would have been during Lily's 7th year, making it completely reasonable for her to hide the pregnancy until she was out of school. Of course, this brings into question James and their entire marriage, which meant that Harry was definitely going to need to talk to Sirius soon.
As his thoughts ran rampant through his head, Harry spared a quick glance up at Wayne, who seemed very uncomfortable with the current conversation. A sudden thought came to the front of his mind, along with a surge of anxiety. What if Wayne didn't actually want to be a father? Telling Harry about his parentage out of a sense of duty and actually wanted to be a parental figure were two completely different things.
It took him a few more moments to find his voice and after making sure that it wasn't going to crack if he said something, Harry raised an eyebrow at the billionaire, "Okay?"
"Okay...?" Bruce looked at him strangely. "I mean, how do you feel about this? Are you alright? Do you have any questions?" Of course Harry had questions, but none of which Wayne could give him the answers to. He didn't answer, so Wayne kept talking. "I'm gonna be honest with you. This did take me a little off guard. I want you to understand that I'm not going to force you to do anything that you don't want to do, I don't know you and you don't know me. But I do want to get to know you, and I do want to have the opportunity to be your father. I want you to know that had I know you even existed, then you wouldn't have had to grow up with that despicable woman you call an aunt. If you want, and only if you actually want to, we can go to a hotel for the night and go to breakfast in the morning to talk. I'm probably going to head back to the States tomorrow, but weather you come with me or not, I promise that I will visit you every so often." And Bruce meant every word. He couldn't force Harry to move countries just so that Bruce could get to know his oldest biological son. But he would make attempts to visit as much as possible. Perhaps he could get Vic to set up a zeta in London, if they didn't have one already.
Harry smiled a bit and released a shaky breath. The idea that he actually had a living parent who wanted him began to sink in and it made him so happy. He looked at Bruce and finally spoke. "I do have questions, but that's a given. I have a feeling that a lot of those answers died with my mom, though, so I'm not too sure that I'll get them. I don't mind going to America for the summer to get to know you. I've always wanted to go and my friend says it's nice."
Bruce gave his son a small smile and stood up from the bench. Extending a hand back towards Harry, he helped him up and together they walked out of the park and into Bruce's car. That had been waiting.
—
The ride to the hotel was mostly silent. Bruce noticed Hadrian dosing off a few times next to him, but thankfully they didn't have to drive too far. When they walked into the hotel, Bruce told Hadrian to wait for him on one of the couches in the lobby while he got some extra towels delivered to the room.
Within minutes, the lady at the front desk was bright red and trying so hard not to stutter and trip over her words as she put in his order for towels. While he was there, he got some food delivered up so that he and Hadrian would eat before going to bed. Pulling a crisp 100 Euros, he handed to the girl with a wink before turning around and returning to his son. Bruce thought it would be strange to refer to him as that but found that he slipped into it an easy as his did with Damian. A small part of him had been nervous to ask the kid to return to the states with him. It warmed his old heart when he said yes.
Across the lobby, Bruce could see Hadrian standing there with his arms crossed, and an eyebrow raised. When Bruce reached him Hadrian just asked, "Do I even want to know what you said to that poor girl?" Bruce cringed a little. It was never fun playing Brucie Wayne in front of his kids. Never mind the fact that they teased him endlessly afterwards.
"I promise it was mostly PG."
Harry rolled his eyes again, and it reminded Bruce a little of Jason. Shit. He's been thinking about his kids all day but forgot they he would eventually have to introduce them to Harry. It wasn't as if he thought they wouldn't like the kid. It was just that some of them could be a lot sometimes. Damian, for instance. His expression must have shown on his face because Harry stopped giving Bruce a disappointed look and instead looked at him in confusion.
"I'll tell you when we get up to the room." Harry accepted that answer and followed Bruce to the elevator. Bruce scanned his key card on a small screen that was under the number grid. Within the next few minutes, they were stepping out of the elevator and into the penthouse that Bruce had built when he bought the hotel years ago.
Bruce didn't visit London often, so it surprised him at how clean the pent house was when he got here 2 weeks ago. He watched with a small smile as Hadrian looked around the penthouse and admiring some of the art along the walls. Dick had picked them out when he was 11 at the request of Bruce. He probably wouldn't even remember now, but Bruce couldn't forget.
The two of them eventually made their way to the couch and Bruce explained his freeze earlier. "I just remembered that when we get back to Gotham, I'll have to introduce you to your siblings."
Hadrian's eyes widened in surprise. "Siblings?" Bruce nodded. "How many?"
Bruce coughed a little before saying, "Um...last I checked 8."
Harry choked. "What?! You have 8 children? And what do you mean 'last I checked'?"
"I mean... well, only you and Damian, my youngest, are my biological children. And I have a lot of wards, foster children, and people who just live in my house. You'll understand when we get back to Gotham and you meet everyone."
"Okay... so all but 2 of your kids, including me, you've adopted?"
Bruce shrugged. "More or less. Stephanie just kinda moved in and I never had the heart to kick her out." This made Hadrian laugh.
"Your family, or I suppose mine now, reminds me of my friend Ron's family. They have 7 children but all of them are biological." a sad smile found its way onto Hadrian's face and Bruce decided not to ask what had happened.
"I'm happy to know that I am not the only one who had a problem with collecting children."
"At least you're self-aware." a beat of silence. "So tell me a bit about my new siblings, if you don't mind, of course."
"Of course I don't mind. Let's start with the oldest, Richard. He prefers to be called Dick. I adopted him when he was nine after the death of his parents. Jason is the same age as you and I took him in after I found him trying to jack the tires off my car. His mother died a few years later. Tim is 2 years younger than you and sort of just found his way into my home. His mother soon died and his father got murdered a few years later."
"Hold up. Not to sound insincere or anything, but why are so many of their parents dead? Is that like a rite of passage to becoming your child or something? Or do you just go looking for orphans?"
"You sound like Jason when he realized the pattern in between all of them."
"I mean... it's a good question. There are things such as coincidences and then there's a pattern."
"I assure you that I don't go looking for orphans to adopt, or at least not consciously."
"Alright, I guess I'll take your word for it. You may continue."
"Thank you. Stephanie became friends with Tim after her dad went to prison and somehow got a room in the house, an allowance, and eats all my food. At this point she is practically my daughter so I can't just kick her out. Besides, Tim would never let me. Cassandra is a year younger than you, and I adopted her a few years back. Damian is your blood brother and is about to turn 11. His mother is still alive but due to... reasons you most likely won't meet her. Damian may act a little cold at first, but I promise he'll warm up to you, it might take a few years though. Duke is my newest kid, and I took him in after both of his parents ended up in the hospital due to a gas's attack in Gotham. He's probably the most normal out of all of us if I'm being honest."
"Wow, that's a lot."
"I know. It'll be easier when you can pair names to faces." Hadrian suddenly yawned, and it reminded Bruce of how late it was. Deciding it was probably time for bed Bruce excused himself and got up. After rummaging through some of the drawers he was able to find some clothes that looked like they would fit Hadrian. Years ago, Bruce had stocked all of his penthouse, safe houses, and apartments with clothing for all of his children. Hadrian looked to be Tim's size from a few years ago, and the obvious malnutrition concerned Bruce. He mentally reminded himself to get Hadrian an appointment with Leslie when they got back.
When he got back to the living room, Hadrian had drifted off and Bruce smiled at how peaceful he looked while he slept. Carefully walking over, Bruce shook him awake and softly spoke. "Hadrian, I know you're tired, but I got you some pajamas to wear. We have to wake up early tomorrow, so it'll be good if you take a shower tonight." His son sleepily nodded and stood up from the couch. Grabbing the clothes Bruce had held out to him, he walked to the direction of the bathroom and shut the door behind him.
Deciding that he could get some work done, Bruce sat back down on the couch and looked around for his laptop. It was still on the table, so Bruce picked it up and typed in his login information. Scrolling through his work emails first, he was pleased to see that his company hadn't gone to hell while he was gone. Even though between Lucious and Tim, he expected nothing less.
Going through his messaging system for Batman, however, he couldn't say the same.
Starting with his messages from Alfred, Bruce sighed as he read through the events of the patrol tonight. Damian had sprained his wrist during patrol. Apparently the Penguin had hit him on the wrist a little too hard. At least Bruce knew to hit the Penguin a little harder next time he saw the bird. Tim had actually passed out in the Batmobile on the way home. Bruce had warned him that staying up for 54 hours straight with only caffeine wasn't a good idea. Hopefully, he would learn his lesson. Last but not least, Titus had somehow found his way into the peanut butter and tracked it throughout the house. Once again, Bruce was going to have to have a conversation about leaving the pantry door open. He had a hunch that it was Jason again, but couldn't be sure.
To his ever-growing relief, everything seemed to be okay. Wonder Woman had stopped Cheeta from committing another heist, Aquaman assisted a small island in cleaning up after a destroying hurricane, and Clark had once again stopped Lex Luthor from... well. Bruce quickly scrolled to the top of Clark's report and read through it again, carefully to not miss any details. Bruce growled at his computer in frustration. How on earth's name had Clark managed to write 500 words on how he rescued civilians but failed to explain what exactly he had saved them from? Bruce let his frustration go, but exhaustion quickly replaced it. For one of the fastest men on earth and a reported who has won multiple Pulzibers for his writing, it was insane that Bruce had to get onto Clark of all people on how to properly write a report.
Thankfully Hadrian saved him from having to look through any more half assed reports but sitting back on the couch. Bruce secretly clicked out of the tabs he had opened and turned his attention back to Hadrian.
"I know I said that we could go out for brunch, but some stuff came up in Gotham. Your brother managed to sprain his wrist and is refusing pain medication. Is there anything else that you need to pick up from your aunt's house?" Damian was going to be the death of him one day.
"Nope. Everything I need, I have in my trunk. We can leave whenever you're ready."
"Alright. You can sleep in the room next to mine and I'll wake you up in the morning so we can catch the jet."
"The jet," Hadrian whispered. "I keep forgetting you're one of the richest men in the world."
"Most do. You'll get used to it."
—
Green.
It blinded him.
He was drowning in it.
Blood trickled from his arm as his leg went numb.
Chanting flooded his ears.
Bone of the father.
Flesh of the servant.
Blood of the Enemy. Unwillingly given.
Unwillingly given.
Just as the body in front of him had its life unwillingly taken.
He was dead.
He wasn't coming back.
Because of him.
He was dead because of him.
Cedric was dead because of him.
His dead body stared back up at Harry, lifeless, cold, dead eyes. The green was still there, pulsing under Cedric's skin, and Harry felt sick at the sight. The body, graveyard, and tome stone all melted away, and he was now standing in front of a mirror. Harry gazed into the mirror and saw himself and his eyes began to glow softly. As time passed the glow got stronger and stronger until the green in his eyes matched the color of the Killing Curse.
He was screaming.
And screaming.
Someone was shaking him. Calling his name.
But he couldn't escape.
No matter where he went that damned color would follow him.
But the shaking continued.
The calling didn't cease.
His eyes snapped open.
—
All Bruce wanted to do was sleep. It was nearly 2 am, and he was still working. This wasn't anything new, but Bruce had actually planned on turning in early tonight. It was just his luck that Ivy and Scarecrow decided that they were going to team up this week and combine both of their deadly toxins.
He was currently running simulations for the antidote while messaging back and forth with Tim. Because he wasn't anywhere near the cave and his lab equipment, he was basically doing an advanced version of Duke's chemistry homework. Tim was running the physical test, but there were only so many versions you could create at one time. Bruce hated feeling useless, especially when there was something to be done that he couldn't do.
He was just about to close his computer out of sheer frustration when a pained scream sounded from the room next door. Within seconds, Bruce was on his feet and reaching for the knife that he kept stashed under his pillow. Then he was slamming open his own bedroom door and crossing the hall into Hadrian's.
When he entered the room, he quickly scanned it for any threats before his eyes landed on Hadrian. The boy was tossing and turning in his bed and the closer he moved, he realized that blood was running down his face from a scar on his forehead. Hadrian didn't stop screaming even had Bruce lightly shook his shoulders. He could make out a name or two between the shouts as he continued to try and wake him.
"Hadrian. Hadrian! You need to wake up, son. It is just a dream, everything is alright." The screaming died down, but it took a few more seconds until Hadrian's eyes snapped open. "There you go, I'm here-" Bruce cut himself off when Hadrian's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist that was still on his shoulder. The kid was gripping his arm so tight that Bruce grunted in discomfort and finally Hadrian's eyes seemed to clear as he took in what was happening.
When his eyes cleared, he immediately let go of Bruce and began apologizing to him. Bruce shook his head and gave a soft smile. "It's alright, Hadrian. I'm more worried about you. You were screaming and shouting. Do you want to talk about it?" Nightmares were frequent in the manor because of everything the family had gone through. The older ones have learned how to calm themselves down for the most part, but even some nights they'd still make the trip to Bruce's room and crawl into his bed.
When most of his children had a nightmare, it would be easy to backtrack through the day and any recent mission to find out what had set them off. For Dick and Cass, anything Deathstoke related had them visiting Bruce for days. Jason, for obvious reasons, would be up if they had to deal with The Joker. He would never willingly get into Bruce's bed, but sometimes Bruce would find him in the garage or kitchen and would get him to stay with him for the night. Ra's and Talia usually had the entire family on pins and needles for weeks afterwards and it would be common to find 2-3 of his children sleeping him his bed for the night.
But Bruce didn't know Hadrian. He didn't know how to help him with this and he won't know until Hadrian feels comfortable to share his past with him. Hadrian didn't answer him, so Bruce decided to try a more direct approach.
"Can you tell me who Cedric is?"
Absently whipping the blood from his forehead, Hadrian stared at him for a while and Bruce almost thought that he wasn't going to answer him. But then softly Hadrian answered, "He's dead. Because of me." Hadrian's eyes went out of focus again and Bruce knew he was thinking about something.
"Hadrian. Look at me." His eyes regained focus, and he lifted his head, "I may not have known you long, but I doubt that it is your fault he's dead. Unless you personally killed the kid, it wasn't your fault." Hadrian looked as if he still didn't believe him and Bruce's heart once again ached at the trauma and hurt that one of his children had gone through so young. Not knowing what else to say, Bruce offered, "How are you doing right now? Do you want to try and go back to sleep or come hang out with me? I'm just finishing up some work."
Harry looked out the window and thought about it. "I'll be fine. Besides, I'm curious as to what a billionaire playboy that comes from generational wealth considers 'work'. So sure I'll come to hang out with you." Bruce didn't miss how haunted Hadrian's eyes still looked and made another metal note to get him a session with Dinah.
Standing up from the bed, Bruce waited for Harry to free himself from the covers and come to stand next to him. Harry hardly reached his chest, but Bruce knew that he was naturally very tall. That did take away that Harry was too short, too thin for a boy his age. Bruce didn't know how tall his mother was, but given how tall Bruce had been at Harry's age, he knew it had to do with how Harry had grown up.
The two of them walked back to Bruce's room in silence, and Bruce picked up where he had left off. Going through bank statements and logs from the past month. Harry sat next to him and, after an hour, his head was resting on Bruce's shoulder. Bruce didn't mind. He was just happy that the kid was getting some sleep. Soon enough Bruce was yawning a decided to get 2 hours of sleep before they had to wake up to catch their flight.
Before drifting off to sleep, Bruce looked at his son, who still laid on his shoulder. London was definitely his second favorite city. Second to only Gotham, because nothing could beat the love that Bruce held for his broken and damaged city. Even with its imperfections and damages, it was still home and he couldn't wait to be back .