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Bruce switched the computer off and stood, stretching his back out. It popped loudly, catching Dick’s attention from across the room, “Jesus, B,” he teased.
Bruce turned around and smiled. Dick was sitting on top of a table, cross legged, sewing a hole in his suit, “This’ll happen to you too one day, you know. You’re going to be old and achy all the time too.”
Dick grinned, “Nah, not me.”
“Are you hurting anywhere?”
“Just my knee,” Dick responded, turning his attention back to his torn suit, “I’ll ice it later.”
Bruce pushed the desk chair in and crossed to Dick’s side, “Are you staying tonight?”
“I can’t,” Dick said, “I’ve gotta work in the morning.”
“Need me to call in for you?” Bruce was only half-joking. It was already 3AM; Dick needed rest.
Dick looked up at Bruce, smiling, “No, I need to go in. I can only call in sick so many more times.”
Bruce smiled back at his eldest son. He ran a hand over Dick’s hair and down behind his head, pressing a kiss to the boy’s temple, “Text me when you leave and when you get home, please?”
“Roger that, B. See you on Tuesday?”
Bruce nodded, “Tuesday,” he repeated, “Night, kid.”
“Night, B.”
Bruce turned off a few more lights in the Cave, leaving it sufficiently lit for Dick to finish his work, then headed up the stairs.
With the grandfather clock secured behind him, Bruce made easy work of turning off lights and shutting doors. The house was mostly quiet, though he could hear the quiet buzz of his children getting ready for bed upstairs.
In the hallway, Bruce could see through to the entrance, where Jason and Cass stood talking quietly.
Bruce knew that both Jason and Cass were aware of his presence, so he didn’t bother to be quiet as he approached them.
“—so I’m hoping to have it wrapped up by the end of the week,” Jason said, running a hand through his hair.
“Are you talking about the Matlock case?” Bruce interjected, sticking his hands in his pockets.
“Yeah.”
Cass looked from Bruce back to Jason, “Want a hand?”
“Yeah, I’ll call you if a lead comes up,” Jason turned his attention back to Bruce, “Are you going to bed?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a board meeting tomorrow that I can’t miss.”
“You’re the boss,” Cass said, an amused smile on her face.
“Sissy’s right; in theory, you could miss whatever you want, right?”
Bruce grinned, “If you want to be the one to inform my board president, then by all means, go ahead.”
“I’d rather not,” Jason chuckled.
“Either of you hurt?”
“Nope,” Jason replied.
“No.” Cass smiled up at Bruce, “Going home.”
“Okay, princess,” He tugged her into a hug, “Get some rest.”
“You too.” Cass stood on her tiptoes to kiss Bruce’s cheek, then turned to Jason, “Bye, Jay.”
“Bye, Cassie,” Jason murmured, kissing the top of her head before she walked out the door.
“You headed out too, Jaylad?”
Jason lifted his arms, grabbing one wrist and stretching out his back, “Yeah,” He grunted through the stretch, “Got a few more things to wrap up.”
Bruce looked Jason up and down. He was back in civilian clothes and his bike helmet sat on the table behind him, “Are you going back out?”
Jason sighed, turning around and picking up his helmet, “Don’t—”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“Jay,” Bruce sighed, rubbing his temples, “You know I don’t like you going out by yourself, any of you. With all of us asleep, if something happens—”
“I have it under control,” Jason replied. There was a surprising lack of heat in the response, “It’s all recon, no combat involved.”
Bruce sighed again. It seemed like that was all he did with Jason these days, “Okay. I trust you. Just, please be safe.”
Jason refused to look at Bruce, instead opting to examine his helmet and pick at a small scratch in the paint, “I will be,” he mumbled, voice small.
Bruce repeated the process he had with Dick, coasting a hand over Jason’s hair and pressing a kiss to his temple. Jason closed his eyes, leaning into the touch.
Both pulled away from each other reluctantly. Jason pulled his keys from his pocket. “Call me if anything happens. And I mean anything, Jason.”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it, old man. Go to bed,” Jason looked up with a shy grin.
Bruce returned it in a small smile, watching Jason walk out the door and straddle his motorcycle. As he walked up the stairs, he tried to ignore the way his heart pounded anxiously as the noise of the engine faded into the distance.
Bruce knocked on Duke’s door first; the light shined under the door to tell him the boy was awake.
“Come in,” Duke called.
Bruce opened the door to find Duke standing across the room at his desk, loading his notebooks into his backpacks. His face lit up, as if Bruce wasn’t in his room every morning and night, “Hey, B! I’m just about done.”
“No worries, kiddo. You doing okay? How was your patrol earlier?”
Duke nodded, “It was fine, I’m fine. A little sore is all.”
“Alfred said you got hurt?”
Duke zipped the backpack closed and lifted the right side of his shirt to reveal a splash of purple painting his side. Bruce’s eyebrows knit together as he crossed the room, pressing gentle fingers to his son’s ribs, “Did you just get that today?”
Duke nodded, “Yeah, a guy got a lucky shot in.” He winced as Bruce pressed on a particularly tender spot, “Ow.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Bruce let go immediately, “Nothing feels broken, but take it easy tomorrow. That was some lucky shot.”
“Trust me, B, I don’t think my body will give me much of a choice,” Duke joked, lowering his shirt, “I’ve pretty much planned to give the city a once-over and then head back here.”
“Good plan. Your homework got done?”
“Yup.”
“Thank you. Lights out in ten?”
“Yes, sir,” Duke grinned, giving a little salute.
Bruce smiled back, “Night, Duke.”
“Night, B.”
Bruce rubbed Duke’s back lightly as he walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. As he entered the hallway, Tim walked by, staring intently at his tablet and scrolling through a report.
Bruce reached out and plucked the tablet from Tim’s hands, “Hey!” Tim exclaimed, glaring, “I was reading that,”
“And now you’re not,” Bruce smiled, shutting the tablet off and tucking it under his arm. He stepped away from Duke’s bedroom towards Tim’s, “You have a test in the morning. You’re going to bed.”
“I swear to God, I will go to bed as soon as I’m finished.”
“Swear to me.”
Tim hovered in his bedroom doorway and stared at Bruce, unamused, “You are intolerable.”
“I’ve been told,” Bruce grinned, “Are you okay?”
Tim nodded.
“Hurting anywhere?”
Tim shook his head, eyes darting to the tablet under Bruce’s arm.
“Good,” Bruce smiled, nodding in the direction of Tim’s bed, “Bed, go, now.”
Tim groaned, “Goodnight, you wet blanket.”
“I love you too,” Bruce called behind him, shutting Tim’s door gently.
Damian’s door was wide open and Bruce set the tablet on a table in the hallway as he entered. Damian was laying on his stomach on the bed, eye-to-eye with Alfred the Cat, who dozed on Damian’s pillow.
“Son, what are you doing?”
“I can’t wake her,” Damian replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “It’s not allowed.”
“You’ve never been a rule follower,” Bruce teased, walking closer to the bed, perching on the edge of it.
Damian glared at Bruce, then turned back to his cat.
“Are you feeling okay?”
Damian nodded, “I’m fine.”
“Are you hurting anywhere?”
“No.”
“Damian…” Bruce warned.
Damian heaved a sigh and rolled over to tug up the leg of his pajama pants. His left ankle was slightly red and swollen, like he had landed on it wrong. Damian laid on his back, looking anywhere except Bruce’s direction as though he were ashamed, “I’m sure it’s fine—”
“I am too,” Bruce cut him off, “but you still need to tell me when this kind of thing happens.” Bruce lifted Damian’s leg gently into his lap and felt along Damian’s ankle. To the boy’s credit, he didn’t flinch once, though Bruce could tell it was hurting him, “Doesn’t feel broken, but you’ll have to stay off of it tomorrow.”
“Father—”
“Damian, you’re either going to be benched for a day while it heals or benched for three months when you break it. Which is it?” Damian huffed, crossing his arms and tugging his leg out of his father’s lap, “You can run comms with Barbara, if you want.”
Damian sat up, “Really?!”
Bruce nodded once, “If you’d like. I’ll call her in the morning.”
“Well,” Damian started, feigning indifference, “I suppose that will do. For tomorrow.”
Bruce tried to hide a smile, “Well, I’m glad you approve,” He leaned forward and kissed Damian’s forehead, “Get some rest.”
Damian shuffled around, avoiding the pillow that held Alfred the Cat and laying down on the one next to it. Bruce tucked the blankets around him, “Goodnight, baba.”
“Goodnight, kiddo.” Bruce pressed one last kiss to Damian’s forehead before turning the lamp off and leaving the room.
In the hallway, the tablet was now missing from the table. Bruce bit back a sigh and walked across the hall to Tim’s door. He tapped lightly, “Ten minutes, or I’m coming in there!” He warned.
“Got it!” Tim called back.
Bruce finally arrived at his own bedroom. He collapsed on the edge of the bed, taking stock. His back was sore, but that was nothing new. His knees were aching, but also nothing out of the ordinary. He mentally declared himself injury-free as he laid down on the soft sheets.
Another day in paradise, he thought.
And he’d get to do it all again tomorrow.