Archive of Our Own

Contrary to the popular belief, Bruce Wayne was not a playboy. He did not go around casually sleeping with anyone that breathes. Just because he had women around his arms whenever there was a charity gala going on, didn’t mean he actually slept with them.

As far as everyone was concerned, Bruce Wayne was always a bachelor.

But that wasn’t true. It hadn’t been for 19 years.

He had been married before.

Bruce didn’t know how everyone came to the conclusion that he was incapable of tying a knot. That ‘marriage’ and ‘Bruce Wayne’ didn’t belong in the same sentence, and even his own children believed that he would never settle down with someone.

And that bothered Bruce deeply. If everyone close to him wholeheartedly believed that, what does that tell Bruce, to give that kind of impression that married life was never for him?

(But He got that impression, He believed it and left him on the doorstep with a broken heart)

As Bruce watched his children tease him that the universe would end before Bruce Wayne settled down, his eyes met Alfred’s stare, silent and judging, and Bruce could only turn away, not bothering to correct his children’s assumptions.

Some secrets are better left buried.

Of course, his children had mixed reactions when they accidentally found out that Bruce Wayne was indeed not a bachelor that he’d led everyone to believe.

“How come you never told me about this, Father?” Damian demanded, his youngest child glaring at him, yet Bruce could see the hurt in his eyes.

"You've gotten a divorce?" asked Tim, looking at the tablet.

"You've been married?" asked Stephanie, looking gleeful.

"Someone actually married you?” His second eldest son looked a bit incredulous at that information.

44-year-old Bruce tried to not sigh, trying not to take offense from that. “Yes, Jason. Happened nineteen years ago.”

“So before you took Dick in,” Tim mused.

"You know what,” Jason spoke up. “I don't care. I chose the other guy for custody over me.”

"Jason, you're 21 years old and have your own apartment."

"You're not my real dad.”

Bruce definitely sighed.

“He can’t be worse than B anyway,” Jason continued. Then his son eyed at him, “If I had known there was an option than dealing with this emotionally constipated adult, I would have definitely gone to the other guy.”

“They’re divorced, Jason,” Tim reminded him like it was something trivial and easy for him to say. Yet the words still stung even after all these years. Like a familiar old wound that has been re-opened, tearing Bruce’s heart to shreds. 

Oblivious to Bruce’s inner turmoil, Tim continued to swipe something in his tablet, and then his brows furrowed, recognition flickered in his eyes. “Wait, Daniel? I’ve heard that name. Do you mean those rumors about you having a drunken marriage with Daniel were true? Even the one about marrying this guy after one week?”

“I’m sorry, but did you say you married Danny after meeting him for one week?” Duke asked, surprised.

“When it comes to love, there are no stages,” was all Bruce could say. Better to let them come to their own conclusions than dig the hole underneath him deeper if Bruce tried to correct them.

His family had various reactions to that: Alfred looked satisfied at his words; Dick and Cass smiled; Jason looked baffled; Tim looked interested now; Stephanie looked one second away from screaming ‘Yes’; And Damian looked scandalized.

“And it was never a drunken marriage,” Bruce added when the words caught up to him.

“How would we know since you apparently never told us about him?” Damian sounded condescending.

Bruce held back the wince. “It happened long ago,” he said, tensed.

“Why? Because it was a mistake?” Damian’s scathing tone delivered the right flame to his open wound. A distant memory echoed him…

“This is a mistake, Bruce,” Danny’s tearful eyes met his.

“It happened long ago,” Bruce said, ending the discussion.

But of course, his children ignored his wishes, to Bruce’s dismay.

“I just can’t believe B got married. Shit, he actually went domestic.” Jason shuddered as if the information disturbed him. “Is the world ending?”

Bruce really tried not to take offense to that as Steph guffawed in peals of laughter who nearly fell out of her seat. Tim only snorted. Duke shot him a grimaced look. And Damian’s face darkened.

Something on Bruce’s look must have betrayed Cass, who politely tapped at Steph, signaling her to stop laughing.

“Sorry Bruce, you can’t blame them,” His eldest son shrugged at him, apologetic.

“Did you marry a normie?” Steph wondered out loud.

Before Bruce could open his mouth, Damian snorted.

“Preposterous. Father will not lower himself to marry such peasant,” he sneered. “I would think Father would have higher standards.”

“Oh really?” Tim mocked. “Like Talia?”

“YO MAMA jokes!” Jason called in the background while Dick quickly snatched Damian from the air before the youngest of his children committed fratricide.

“She is an objectively good candidate and spouse material for Father,” Damian said tightly.

“Knowing the old man, this Danny fella got sick of his bullshit,” Jason said, indifferent. “He probably got tired dealing with his emotional constipated ass—“

“Jason!” Dick barked while Alfred shot Jason a disappointed look. Meanwhile, Bruce had frozen, hands bracing against the armchair, the only thing keeping him from falling to his knees.

“Sorry,” Jason muttered, abashed.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between the family. Till Cass suddenly spoke up.

“How did you meet him?” she asked, eyes curious.

How did he meet Danny indeed? Not seeing his children exchange looks as Bruce allowed the memory to flash before his very eyes as if it happened yesterday when in reality it only happened nineteen years ago.

The first time Bruce met Danny was at the UNICEF charity gala. He was twenty-five years old and just recently returned to Gotham after all those years in training by the League of Assassins. The Gothamites speculated his disappearance of their long-lost Prince for so long that Bruce knew he needed to make a public appearance and build connections. Just because Bruce had this insane idea to make a difference by vigilante means (he still hadn’t decided what his name would be yet), didn’t mean he couldn’t help his city as Bruce Wayne.

And for once, this was one of the few events that Bruce didn’t personally mind attending and where he didn’t require so much to play a part as a playboy. Bruce was all for raising awareness and funding lifesaving care for children worldwide, so he had no complaints about donating billions of dollars to the fundraiser (Bruce never wanted any child to go through what he did).

It was there that he came across the most striking blue eyes he had ever seen.

The man, who looked to be a year younger than Bruce, had a wry smile on his face, casually nodding to the group of people surrounding him. To others, the man was unremarkable, with ruffled black hair, jaw-squared with a lean body type, adopting more of a semi-formal attire with one hand making wild gestures while the other was holding a glass of champagne.

But to Bruce, there was something…boyishly charming about this person in a charity gala like this.

And if his heart rate started to pick up as the enigmatic person’s eyes met his, well, Bruce would forever deny that he may have lost his footing or two as he unknowingly approached this person.

Bruce swayed to the music with Danny in his arms. He closed his eyes, breathing in Danny’s scent, cherishing this moment.

He wanted to stay in this moment. Forget about Batman. Forget about Gotham. Let his city burn if it meant he could stay as Bruce, Danny’s husband. But he knew he can’t. Not forever, not really.

Because everything Bruce touched seemed to fall apart, one way or another.

And Danny was the best thing he had ever had.

If it meant keeping Danny from having the same fate as his parents, then Bruce would take it. At least, that’s how Bruce justified it at first.

"Because I have this incredible ability to bring disaster to the best things in my life,” Bruce confessed to him one night.

He could feel the smirk on his husband’s face, with no doubt a knowing look that Bruce quoted one of the Netflix shows, but Bruce didn’t care because the sentiments behind those words…Bruce felt the exact same way.

"And tonight has been perfect, don't you think?" Danny quoted back, his blue eyes meeting his.

"Yes," Bruce chuckled a bit. "And it needs to be stopped now. So I can have this one perfect night."

And he held onto that memory. That one perfect night. Every time Batman faced his greatest adversaries and foes, just when he thought this was it. This was his end whenever he thought he was about to die...the image of Danny sitting on the porch, fumbling with his thumbs as he waited for Bruce to come home safe and sound made Batman more determined than ever to come out of this alive.

Danny was his reason for coming home. Always had been.

Always will be.

"It feels like I know you forever," Bruce confessed, his forehead resting against Danny's, content to be in this moment.

"...Bruce, we've only known each other for one week." Danny deadpanned.

“Then marry me?”

He was met with a flabbergasted look on Danny’s face, mouth hanging open. Bruce resisted the urge to squirm, a small part of him wondering why he said that, but he couldn’t find himself regretting those words when it felt so right.

“ARE YOU INSANE?”

“Insane, but very sure of you,” Bruce said, the surety behind his words loud and clear. He watched as Danny’s eyes burned red.

“At this particular moment Bruce, we're all we got. We've got to be able to count on each other,” Danny said softly.

Bruce only clutched him tightly, “Till death do us apart,” he agreed.

“Babe, I love you. But in all our years of marriage, I have not mastered the language of your grunting.”

“Hn.”

“You’re lucky you’re too cute, Grumbles.”

“Hn.”

“Don’t make me divorce you, Bruce.”

“Hn.”

“I love you too.”

“Bruce? Are you there?” a voice called out to him.

Bruce blinked rapidly and was surprised to see his children staring at him. He took in his surroundings and noticed that he was in the sitting room.

Oh right. His children learned of Danny’s existence. And Cass had asked a question.

“Got lost in the memories, buddy?” Dick said teasingly, yet Bruce could see the concern hiding behind those eyes.

“Nothing. I had a headache,” Bruce lied. In the corner of his eyes, he could see his youngest son tutting him with a judgmental look on his face.

“Sure,” Tim dryly said, disbelieving.

Bruce only walked out the room, ignoring the stares at his back.

He knew what they wanted. He could still feel the questions at the tip of their tongue, wanting to ask, wanting to probe further.

But even the mention of him still hurt after all these years.

Bruce came home to his empty Manor. He’s not used to the silence. The quiet.

I got way too much time to be this hurt
Somebody help, it's getting worse

But this was his choice. He told Danny to take this job opportunity with UNICEF. Even if it meant not seeing Danny as much as he’d liked, probably for months, but this was for Danny’s sake. His husband’s health and well-being.

If it meant not seeing the dead and lost look in Danny’s eyes…

Well, Bruce would have to take it. Even though a large part of him was against this decision, protesting that Danny should stay by his side…

But it was clear Danny was hurting the longer he stayed in Gotham.

Too many reminders, those blue eyes said.

What do you do with a broken heart?
Once the light fades, everything is dark

The smiles became fake. The spark was gone from those icy blues, and was replaced with dim and dull glazed blues. Danny’s movement was more robotic than ever, silently following Bruce behind than next to him, like an obedient dog following their owner. It made Bruce’s skin crawl that no matter how much he called for his partner, his husband…Danny remained unresponsive as ever.

“Danny has depression,” the doctor had said.

“Failure is a feeling long before it becomes an actual result. It’s vulnerability that breeds with self-doubt and then is escalated, often deliberately, by fear,” one of them said, trying to be helpful.

Bruce had been advised that maybe Danny needed to go out more. Take him out of Gotham. Be a loving and supportive husband, they said.

Yet no matter how far Bruce took Danny out of Gotham. Even outside the continent for maybe a break, a vacation, the dull look still remained as ever on his partner’s face.

The only time it changed was when Danny caught a glimpse of children in his peripheral, his blue eyes brightening slightly, with a tinge of longing. And it hurt Bruce’s heart that not even he could pull Danny out of this depression.

Bruce had tried to stay strong for Danny, really, he did, but his partner just kept pushing him away. They drifted each other away no matter how much Bruce clung to their marriage, broken as it seemed.

He started to wonder if he may never get Danny back.

This wasn’t something that Bruce Wayne could solve with a lot of money. This wasn’t something that even Batman could fix by throwing his fists.

There was literally no solution. And Bruce felt helpless, powerless, as he watched his partner fall apart before his very eyes.

Bruce would never admit it, as he carefully dressed Danny into his pajamas before pulling his husband into the bed with him, holding him in his arms—

Way too much whiskey in my blood
I feel my body giving up

—But he felt like his body was giving up. He became more tired as months passed, with Gotham beckoning her Dark Knight, calling for him through the window.

Yet Bruce continued to stay by Danny’s side, cradling him so close. He may have taken a cowl to keep the city safe, but Bruce will always choose to save Danny first and foremost.

Can I hold on for another night?
What do I do with all this time?

…Right?

Sometimes, on desolate Sunday nights, Bruce wondered: Is this how I’m going to spend the rest of my life? Married to a ghost who seemed to forget Bruce’s presence, their marriage, and everything.

Bruce paused midway when his ears caught the sounds of his children murmuring in the sitting room. He was surprised to see them still there hours later after their conversation, but as he hid behind the wall, he immediately understood their curiosity hadn’t been satiated.

“I wonder what made them separate,” Tim wondered, saying his thoughts out loud.

“Guys, I don’t think we should speculate,” Duke tried. Thank the heavens Bruce was gifted with a sensible child.

Stephanie let out thoughtful noses, ignoring Duke, “It’s hard to imagine Bruce settling down. It makes me wonder what Bruce’s life would have looked like if he didn’t don in the furry bat suit.”

“Maybe Daniel found out about his little crusade and was upset?” Tim said.

“You think Bruce would keep something like that from his partner that time?” Dick sounded incredulous. 

“Look, we can all agree that the old man is an emotional constipated ass and isn’t exactly the shining example of great communication skills,” Jason snarked, eyes rolling.

And his second eldest son sounded so sure about it that it made Bruce’s head hurt as his children hummed in agreement.

Is that how they really see me? He thought as the pit in his stomach grew, the feeling of unease tickling in his chest as he watched his children speculate his past, eyes twinkling in a way that told Bruce that they were definitely going to try to wheedle all the answers out of him whether he liked it or not.

Bruce knew that he'd taught all his children to be paranoid and the need to gather all information, but never did he think they would use what he'd taught them to fixate on his past marriage.

The one time he didn't want his children to dig into something, Bruce ruefully shook his head.

“I don’t think B would marry someone without at least letting them know the possible risks and dangers associated with him,” Dick defended him.

“Whoever Daniel was, he’s someone Father cared enough not to tell us about him.” And Damian sounded hurt saying that. “Doesn’t Father trust us?”

Jason snorted in derision. “Always acting like a lone wolf. Face it, brat. That’s how your dad is. Keepin’ tight close with secrets. He’s never an open book. We’re no exceptions to that.”

A flicker of guilt bloomed in Bruce’s chest.

Bruce knew he wasn’t perfect. He knew hadn’t been a perfect parent to all of his children, always seeming to find a way to fail them, constantly disappointing them even though Bruce never intended to.

Yet somehow, Bruce always seemed to fuck up his relationships with them further no matter how hard he tried. Always hurting them. Damaging them. Killing them.

He already failed as a husband. And worst as a father.

This is why I didn’t say anything, Bruce thought in despair.

As Bruce Wayne, he didn’t have the luxury of privacy. He didn’t want to deal with peering eyes. He didn’t need the whole world to judge his life story. 

“Poor little Bruce Wayne turned to orphan,” a nasty voice would call out to him whenever he passed by the school hallways. Reporters clambering for him to rehash the night his parents died.

Everyone knew his ‘sob story’ of his parents. They always seemed to find entertainment in it, constantly bringing it up when all Bruce wanted to do was hide in his bedroom and shed away his tears in private.

The whole world wanted to learn Bruce’s secrets. People demanded a story from him, they didn’t care about Bruce’s feelings, they didn’t care of Bruce’s suffering, nevermind that Bruce didn’t want to share it, they’re constantly taking it, hoarding it, and twisting his life story until it fitted their little narrative like it was theirs, not his.

That was why he kept his silence about him. That was why he brooded and dealt with his own pain and heartache. This was why Bruce never made a habit of opening up to anyone.

He didn’t want to deal with the prying questions. He didn’t want to expose more of himself to the world that just wanted to judge him.

Was it wrong for Bruce to keep this one thing his?

Was it wrong that Bruce wanted to be selfish for once in his life?

“I just wish he had told us himself,” one of his children softly said. And Bruce could feel a stinging sensation behind his eyelids, despair beckoning him, cradling him like a familiar lullaby.

Who would want to hear an old man like him rehash his pathetic life? Why would anyone want to listen to Bruce cry over his broken marriage?

So he kept his silence and nursed his pitiful heart.

Bleeding and damaged, it may be, but at least it was his to hide, and his to keep.

Bruce always hated living in these silent halls. He hated the quietness, the despair and sadness lingering in the air. Haunted in its own way as the years passed by, its silence oppressive. Too many bitter reminders of the loss of his parents, with only Alfred to occupy the suffocating air and ache of loneliness with him.

As an only child, Bruce had always wanted siblings.

And Mom shared his sentiments. She had been desperate for more children, once upon a time. Whispers and promises of a little brother or a sister to fill the house in their little Wayne family. Those secret shared looks Mom and Dad used to send him. Moving shadow behind the closed doors. The longings and wistful tone Mom always failed to hide. And Dad’s firm and steady grip on his shoulder, so warm and assuring filled with hope.

Yet that promise never came to fruition. It died in the alleyway alongside his parents.

“How come you never told me, Father?” Damian quietly asked later on as he entered his office, closing the door behind him.

Bruce wasn’t sure what to say to his youngest, but he knew he had to be delicate. He had a feeling he knew where the center of Damian’s troubles lay.

But how does one explain to your child the complicated reasons for his dad loving another, someone who wasn’t Talia, someone who Bruce loved wholeheartedly enough to marry them, and not Damian’s mother?

It was a complex, multi-faceted situation. But Damian was young and Bruce did not want to give him big-picture assurances, it would mean little to his son who only cared for something concrete that affected his worldview.

Bruce walked around the table and knelt in front of Damian, placing his hand on his son’s cheek, who seemed to lean towards his touch. Softly, he said, “It happened long before you were born,” Hoping that would make sense to his youngest.

But Damian didn’t seem satisfied with that answer. “But why? You met Daniel after the League.” After Talia, Bruce heard the words unsaid. The real question.

His son then bit his lips, “Am I not wrong?”

“You’re not wrong,” he murmured, brushing his thumb against his son’s cheek, almost distractedly. A mixture of his features and Talia’s staring back at him.

“Then what could he have done for you to allow it?”

Bruce smiled softly. “He didn’t do anything. I did.”

I fell in love.

“Then what happened between you and him? What ended it?”

If anyone had asked, Bruce would have refused to answer it. But because it was Damian, his youngest who felt the most despair, who seemed to hide his pain and hurt from the world, so familiar, that Bruce chose to answer him.

“I wasn’t a good husband.”

Bruce remembered the days when he and Danny tried for kids. But when the Doctor sadly told them that Danny can’t, just like Martha Wayne…well, Danny was never the same after that. And one of the reasons why Danny buried himself to work in his job.

Everyone had a different way of coping with grief. For Bruce, it was Batman. For Danny, it was running away.

The news and the loss hit Danny so hard that resulted burying his grief by being a workaholic. If Danny couldn’t have one, then he could at least help other children.

Do you want kids was the question that Danny hated the most. A twisted knife to the gut, a possibility dangling in front of him, mocking him.

Danny could only give them a strained smile and answer “My job keeps me busy. The kids out there need me”. And they would nod, moving along to another topic, while Danny ignored the weight of Bruce’s hand around his waist. Danny resisted the urge to slap it.

“I know it sucks. But we could always adopt if that’s what you want—“

"Are you serious, Bruce?” Danny said, disbelief in his tone. "You think it’s that simple? That being infertile sucks? It was more than that. Having children was my dream. It's not about losing a dream. It's the loss of a future that I-could-have-had, but I can't, Bruce. I can’t.”

Bruce closed his mouth.

"I guess it was too much to ask for a bit of happiness," and did that sound bitter? Danny didn’t care. "A miracle.”

Danny let out a laugh so broken. Just like his body.

"And I hate it. I hate myself. I hate that my body is too broken to have that," Danny whispered, leaning his head against the wall. Everything about him was broken.

“How can I grieve when there was never any life to begin with, Bruce?” Danny said faintly, eyes glazing in the distance as Bruce grasped his hand, hoping that his presence would comfort his partner.

“My body is not enough, Bruce,” Danny sobbed, wet and broken, almost hopeless. And that tore Bruce’s heart to pieces as the wet seeped through his shirt, listening to his partner’s cries.

“I did the math, Father. I’m not a fool.”

Of course. Bruce was an idiot. He’d thought Damian was upset that he never once opened up about Danny. He thought maybe Damian had secretly hoped for him and Talia to end up together in the end, not after growing up and listening to Talia always telling their child that he was her only love.

But it was about Damian’s existence.

Bruce let out a heavy breath. His relationship with Talia will always be complicated. Dizzy and maddening, until that love turned into a twisted knife. He’d always be grateful for that woman when he’d first come to the League. And for bringing his children to him.

But…

Talia always expected more from him after helping him. As if she did him a huge favor, eyes always looking at him expectantly that made Bruce’s insides uncomfortable, knowing she wanted to rekindle their relationship back. But Bruce could never quite trust her after he left the League the first time when she had chosen Ra’s over Bruce. That had been the end of it.

And then he met Danny.

Even though Danny had long left his life, even after becoming a single man once again, Bruce continued to refute Talia’s advances, making his intentions loud and clear.

He’d thought that would truly be the end of it. Until Talia brought Damian to him.

When Bruce did the mental math, his eyes quickly snapped to Talia’s and was met with her unapologetic look, not an ounce of regret in her expression while digging her red fingernails at Damian’s shoulder, reminding him there was a child in the room.

So Bruce reigned in the anger, the betrayal, compartmentalizing those emotions before he meeting his son for the first time.

“Damian, you had nothing to do with what happened between me and Danny,” Bruce said firmly.

“But—“

“Damian, why should my past marriage matter to you?” Bruce asked softly. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you. It doesn’t change anything.”

“But this changes everything!” Damian burst the words out, and what alarmed Bruce more was that his son seemed to be tearing up.

Bruce quickly pulled his child into his arms, hoping a simple hug could take away that sadness. Unlike before.

When Bruce came home from work, he was surprised to see Danny waiting for him on the front steps. With two bottles of beer next to him.

Bruce’s brows furrowed, his concern for Danny rising as he jogged towards him. Ruffled sweatpants and t-shirt. Dark circles underneath his eye bags. The way Danny’s arms kept jittering as if Danny had been drinking ten expresso shots, alarming the billionaire.

“Do you remember when I told you that I used to dream of becoming an astronaut?” Danny said, dull blue eyes meeting his.

Bruce hesitated at the blank tone. He wanted to push Danny to go inside. He wanted to wrap him with blankets until that melancholic air disappeared.

But Danny was talking to him.

“Yes,” Bruce nodded as he took a seat next to him. “You said it was because of a lab accident you had when you were fourteen.”

“Yeah, it sucked,” Danny chuckled, sounding bitter as he took a sip of beer. “All those space programs and summer camps I attended ended up being a waste of time. And I had to accept going to space is never going to happen. Damn. My accident already fucked my chances of going to NASA, and now it's fucking me again with this one."

Bruce resisted the urge to say that he could still make that happen with all the money that he had in his pockets, but he had a feeling that it would not be appreciated at this moment.

“Do you know what I did?”

Bruce shook his head.

“I had to stop thinking of what-ifs. I had to let go of my dream. Make peace with it and move on. Maybe this end can be a new beginning for something else, something better waiting for me down the road.” He sounded defeated, yet there was a weight of acceptance behind it.

Danny brought his bottle up. “Toast to new beginnings.”

“Toast to a brighter future,” Bruce agreed. For us.

“You still love him, Father?” His youngest voice broke through his musings. Wide green eyes stared at his, beseeching for something, but for what, Bruce didn’t know.

So Bruce answered truthfully, hoping that it didn’t change the way Damian thought of him, hoping that his son would understand that just because he loved someone didn’t mean there wasn’t a space for his heart to give to another:

“I never stopped.”

“Could you honestly tell me that you’re okay with not having any children?” Danny’s eyes stared at him, the sense of worthlessness and inadequacy present in those eyes. “Isn’t that a deal breaker for you?”

Bruce took a moment to grieve the loss of filling the empty Manor with children’s laughs, the possibility, his life-long wish, disappearing from his grasp, but…

He clenched Danny’s hand, pulling him closer, “The deal breaker is not having you in my life, Danny,” he said.

Danny’s eyes widened in shock.

“When I married you, it’s because I love everything about you, Danny. Your heart. Your soul. Your spirit and everything.”

Danny’s brows furrowed in confusion. Bruce smiled, brushing away those tears with his thumb.

“I love all of you, Danny,” Bruce said softly. Then he sang, “Love your curves and all your edges. All your perfect imperfections.”

Danny laughed. And it was so beautiful that made Bruce’s heart soared as he pulled him closer, whispering in his ear:

“I love you even if you can’t give me kids.”

But of course, that wasn’t the end of it.

They were slowly coming back together. Hints of laugh lines started to appear on Danny’s face. His husband started to pick up his work calls after being on sick leave for so long. Bruce always did his best to show that he was there for Danny in every way. They weren’t what they used to be like in the early days of their relationships.

But it was a start.

Yet when Bruce crept into the halls and in the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of Danny nursing a cup of tea with Alfred next to him. Bruce quickly took cover, keeping his breaths silent as he listened in to their conversation.

“—I know Bruce wants a family,” Danny said softly. “Yet I couldn’t give him that gift. The Wayne family would die with Bruce and I can’t have that. He deserves to be with someone who can make his dream come true.”

“If I may, Master Danny,” Alfred said, and Bruce could hear the firmness in the butler’s tone. “I don’t think Master Bruce cares about that. All he cares about is you.”

“I know,” his husband softly admitted. “He told me it isn’t a deal breaker. But Bruce doesn’t think of the big picture. And…Bruce deserves a healthy partner.” And he sounded so broken about that.

Bruce wanted to scream. He wanted to yell at Danny and call him an idiot. He wanted to shake those doubts away. He will never understand why Danny has really low self-esteem.

He blamed his in-laws for that probably.

“I’m pathetic, Alfred,” and it was Danny’s sigh that brought Bruce back to the present. “At this point, I’m becoming a burden to him.

“Master Daniel, you can never be a burden in this family.”

Danny made a sound of disagreement. Bruce gritted his teeth. He loved Danny, really he did, but his partner’s stubbornness infuriated him.

And while Bruce had been busy silently fuming, the words exchanged registered in his brain:

“Sometimes when I get up from my bed to grab a coffee, I feel peace. And happy. Like I’m actually happy as I sip my coffee alone. Then he comes into the room, and my heart just…sank,” Danny confessed.

The hurt in his heart escalated from a dull throb to a burning agony as Bruce stumbled back, clutching his chest as if he had been stabbed.

But then the knife twisted.

“I think divorce is the best option. We’re just hurting each other, Alfred.

Never before did his insides turn cold until that moment. Bruce stood frozen, hands clenching as his heart started to pound madly in his ear, and a wave of dizziness entranced him. And it took all his training for Bruce to get a grip on himself.

Hurting? I’m hurting you?

“All married couples go through a rough patch, Master Danny. Experiencing hurt is an inevitable part of human nature. You and Master Bruce will always have the ability to hurt each other, what matters is the choice to hurt him or not.”

“But—“

“I know what you are thinking, Master Daniel. But he’ll never divorce you. He might hurt you but he won’t divorce you,” Alfred said as if it was final.

Danny let out a ‘hmm’ sound. Yet Bruce cannot erase the words said in his head. Words that were said in confidence, yet Danny had not once spoken to Bruce about it.

Why didn’t you tell me? Bruce asked desperately. Was he such a bad husband that Danny was afraid to tell him? He thought he was doing well in letting Danny know that he could lean on him.

But apparently not. Not when Danny was seriously considering divorce as an option. Leaving him.

Bruce slowly sank to the floor, head resting against the wall, feeling small and utterly helpless, and his vision turned blurred. And Bruce cannot stop it.

He cried.

Danny believed that his depression was the failure of their marriage.

He took it as a personal failure. Twice. The first was for his inability to conceive a child. The second was depression.

He should have been stronger. Maybe he pushed himself to be healthier, then Danny wouldn’t find himself in this situation. Unhealthy.

He hated how he easily succumbed to such weakness, how he wasn’t fit enough to be a parent.

This felt like the Universe punishing him.

“Bruce loved me, but for all the wrong reasons,” Danny said. And that was the last words he said to Alfred before leaving.

So Bruce drove, chasing the nights to forget the ache and hurt, yet nothing seemed to heal his mind, he couldn’t forget.

But it felt like Bruce had given up on Danny. A small part of him whispered ‘Why didn’t you fight for it?’ as Danny picked up his luggage and walked out of those front doors.

His heart got ripped even further that before Danny left, his husband had pushed the divorce papers towards him. His face was carefully blank as he stared at him, the silent question in the air.

Bruce wanted to be steeped in denial, but his body knew.

So many events and moments that seemed insignificant add up. Bruce remembered how for the last Valentine´s Day, Danny gave him a watch but no card. In restaurants, Danny looked off into the middle distance while Bruce’s hand would creep across the table to hold his. He would always let go first. Bruce realized he can’t remember Danny’s last spontaneous gesture of affection.

People say lies tear relationships apart, but it was the truth that shattered their relationship.

Their marriage had been falling long before Bruce’s mind knew.

“We can’t make a life together, Bruce,” Danny said, his voice hoarse. It had been so long since Bruce heard his voice, yet those were the words his partner had first chosen to say.

The detective part of Bruce tried to decipher the question: Why? He thought back to their memories together, decent, impartial recall of the past that’s too damning of the present. A spectre of old happiness at the feast of failure and desolation. And it was all because Bruce was stupid to not see his partner had been unhappy in their marriage for so long.

"You’re more married to work than married to me," Danny said.

What caught him off guard was that there was no bitterness in his tone, just a matter-of-fact, as if Danny had grown used to that statement.

“It feels like I’m just a pretty face, an eye candy for Brucie to hang on. I was withering inside, feeling confined to your point of view.

“You were…too much. It felt too much.” Danny quietly said later, afraid to meet his eyes.

The words pierced into Bruce’s heart, the pit in his stomach growing as he digested the painful truth.

I was too much.

Bruce wondered if he made Danny feel trapped in their marriage. A part of him imagined that Danny must have felt relieved that he no longer suffocated under Bruce’s care.

Maybe it’s for the best, Bruce mournfully thought. After all, he was a failure as Danny’s husband.

He couldn’t take this as he strode towards the kitchen, searching for something. Maybe a drink.

The bottle slipped through his fingers, shattering on the kitchen floor, and he should leave it there, but he didn’t. He reached to pick it up, but he lost his balance. His hand came down on broken glass as he pushed himself back up.

It hurts, of course it hurts, but the pain was dampened a little by the vodka, by the wall of grief, by his ruined heart, by everything else.

And when Alfred found him, he hadn’t been impressed. Well, he hadn’t since the divorce went through.

“I think you both gave up too easily,” Alfred said, and the words were a slap to Bruce’s face.

The truth that Bruce didn’t want to admit, even to himself, was that divorce was easy.

It was marriage that was hard.

Soon, his children’s curiosity died into nothingness. Bruce assumed Damian must have told them to back off, the way his children tried to subtly change the subject whenever Bruce’s mind drifted to a certain raven-haired and blue-eyed man.

Mentions of him still stung, but it was a familiar old wound at this point. After all.

Nothing can balm a broken heart.

As Bruce was shaking everyone’s hand, all of the guests commenting what a lovely charity gala this was and how Bruce was lucky to be a Father, his eyes met familiar blue in the crowd and Bruce froze.

Suddenly, he felt like he was twenty-five years old again. Deja vu creeping into his orbit. The world seemed to vanish before his eyes, with only—

Danny, he echoed his name. Just his name was enough to drive Bruce into madness.

Bruce felt like he was suffocating or drowning and was trying to come up for air. He found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the familiar blue.

It had been nearly two decades since he’d last seen the man, and yet Danny stood before him, looking good, looking better than before.

“Hey Bruce,” Danny greeted him, meeting him halfway across the room.

The affectionate name sounded odd coming from Danny’s mouth, Bruce felt himself tripping over it. It ripped something open, something small and vulnerable that he buried years ago when Danny had slammed the divorce papers right in front of him. Now, the foundation was shaking, the ghost under the stairs ready to haunt him again.

“Hey Danny,” He returned. This felt like a dream. A blissful dream that Bruce didn’t want to wake up.

The silence stretched between the two men. Bruce scrambled to think of the words he wanted to say. Yet his mind was utterly blank.

“How are you?” and that was how he ended up saying.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck with that cute boyish grin, Bruce’s heart immediately softened at the familiar sight, nostalgia and fondness weaving together in his chest as blue eyes peeked through those fringes.

“Good. I’m good. UNICEF, you know how it is,” Danny said, sheepish.

Bruce wasn’t surprised. Danny always loved his job. “What have you been up to?”

Danny’s eyes lit up and Bruce’s heart fluttered at that sight. “You know, as usual, helping the kids out there. I’ve been living in South Sudan for the past few years and just got back to the States for a few months now.”

Bruce smiled. “That’s great, Danny. I’m happy for you.”

Danny’s enthusiastic grin turned into something shy. “Yeah, I’m glad that I’m happy as well,” he agreed easily, not hiding the wistful tone.

And for once, the silence wasn’t constricting. It wasn’t oppressive and suffocating. Now it just felt easy to breathe.

Bruce was just enjoying the casualness and lightness around the man until Danny’s eyes landed on Bruce’s children. And he watched as Danny's face crumbled.

“I’m happy that you got your dream,” Danny said to him as the guests started to leave. And the worst part was that he sounded so sincere even though Bruce could see the longing and regret in those eyes.

But I didn't get you, Bruce thought.

“Do you want to meet them?” He offered as Danny continued to stare at his kids in the distance.

Bruce knew for sure Danny would adore his kids. And that the kids would love Danny in return. He can already see it now. The shenanigans his ex-husband and his children would come up with even if it drove Bruce crazy. 

For a moment, he thought Danny would say yes, but his ex-husband just shook his head. “No thanks.” He vehemently denied it. “I’m good. I need to get going anyway.”

And Bruce’s heart sank, disappointed. The pit in his stomach grew as Danny started to walk away, but before he stepped out of those doors, his ex-husband looked back at him. Eyes tinged with regret but also happiness.

Bruce could not hear the words Danny said with this distance, but he knew how to read the lips.

"Thank you for being my dream, Bruce."

And then his ex-husband walked out those doors, walking out of Bruce’s life again.

"Because I have this incredible ability to bring disaster to the best things in my life."  A distant memory echoed to him. 

His heart panged at the words, realizing just now that he and Danny were always meant to meet, but not meant to stay in each other's lives forever. 

It was always inevitable that Bruce couldn't keep the person he loved forever. 

“Bruce?” a voice called out to him.

Bruce forced his eyes to tear away from the spot and was met with Dick’s concerned look. His eldest son was gripping him in the shoulder, steady and comforting and warm.

“Are you okay?” Dick asked.

Yet all Bruce could see was an eight-year-old little boy looking so utterly lost and hopeless with tears streaming down his face. And Bruce had been in the audience, lost and broken with the divorce still fresh in his mind.

That night in the circus, something inside of Bruce cracked to life, and a sense of kinship blossomed between the two.

“I just couldn’t stand to see children cry, Bruce.” When Bruce asked why Danny chose to work at UNICEF.

Nobody knew Danny had been the reason why Bruce took in Dick.

And nobody knew that it had been Danny’s words that inspired Bruce to approach Dick all those years.

“I couldn’t stand to see children cry, as well,” and that had been Bruce’s thoughts when he approached the little kid grieving for his parents.

And Bruce couldn’t stand the rest that had followed. He ended up taking them home with him, filling the empty and silent halls with children’s laughs.

“Ever going to tie a knot, old man?” Jason asked him one day, a blanket surrounding him with both hands holding a mug of hot chocolate, next to the fireplace.

Bruce thought of the way Danny pulled him to the center of the ballroom, his cheeks red and eyes with laughter when they first met. The way Danny cupped his cheeks before pulling his face down for the kiss right after he breathed the words “I do” at the altar. Memories flashed before his eyes, slices of life filled with domestic bliss as Bruce chased his mischievous husband through the halls.

His lips curled upward, even when a part of him ached with melancholy. “No. I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

Not when his heart belonged to the person who had stolen it long ago. No divorce papers could ever change that.

But sometimes, life doesn’t turn out the way you want it. Especially when you make mistakes and are filled with regrets. But that’s okay. Plans could change. Feelings could change. People change, and that’s inevitable. It’s a learning curve and part of growing up.

A lot of people will leave Bruce's life, but only a few will stay in his heart. 

And Bruce is only human.

As Danny had once said:

“I have to stop thinking of what-ifs. I had to let go of my dream. Make peace with it and move on. Maybe this end can be a new beginning for something else, something better waiting for me down the road.”

The end of his marriage led to Bruce finding a sobbing child in Haly’s circus.

The end of his marriage led to him picking up a street kid who tried to steal his tires.

The end of his marriage led to him answering his front door and was met with a kid who demanded to be Robin when his heart had been grieving with such loss. One after another, beautiful and precious children, all his, came to Bruce’s life.

And Bruce wouldn’t have it any other way. 

As he watched his children fall asleep, one by one, their snores filling the room, Bruce only huffed in amusement.

He may have lost one dream. But he also gained another and more.

"Thank you, Danny," he whispered. 

The halls were silent. But no longer was it empty.

"Some people are going to leave, but that's not the end of your story. That's the end of their part in your story."

-Faraaz Kazi