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Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
Next year all our troubles, will be out of sight
Soft Christmas jazz music drifted through Wayne Manor’s halls. Balancing a tray of champagne flutes, Alfred nudged open the family room door. The scent of pine, smoke from a softly popping fire, and spiced apple cider rose to greet him. As did Master Dick, taking the tray of glasses from him and setting them on the low coffee table. A half eaten tray of fresh made cookies sat beside it (Damian and Jason’s handiwork, he merely supervised this year).
Small piles of gifts sat next to everyone, while the wrapping paper had been stuffed into garbage bags during Alfred’s absence. Three stacks of still wrapped boxes and tissue paper stuffed bags sat under the tree for Stephanie, Barbara, and Duke. All three of them sent their regrets–they were spending Christmas with their families this year.
It’d been a subdued Christmas and for no singular reason. Everyone was simply worn down by the year and the previous intense days of patrol. Dinner was still lively but not as rambunctious as years past. Opening presents made them all a little more animated, laughing loudly at gag gifts or cheering because someone remembered the obscure item they mentioned wanting at the start of the year. Now they were all sprawled across the sofas and armchairs, quietly sipping cider and investigating their new gifts. Basking in the warmth of the fire and family.
“Look alive!” Dick crowed before popping the champagne bottle he'd been stealthily unwrapping. The cork rocketed across the room with a phoom and a chorus of surprised shouts.
“Moron!” Jason snapped, ducking as the cork smacked into the wall behind his head and bounced into his lap.
“Am I too young for a heart attack?” Tim moaned, fingers pressed to the jugular, “Jesus, I was half asleep, Dick.” Master Bruce looked like he echoed the sentiment, eyes closed as he rubbed his jaw.
“Exactly.” His older brother started primly filling the flutes for Alfred to pass around. “You want some, Dami?” He winked at Alfred as he barely poured a mouthful into the last flute.
“I've had alcohol before,” was Damian’s dry response as he took the nearly empty glass, “I doubt one glass will turn me into a lush.”
“Here,” Cass swapped their glasses, “Champagne is gross.”
“Honestly Cass, I agree,” Dick raised the almost empty bottle, “Want a full one, Al?”
“No, thank you. Half is just fine. Miss Cassandra and I are of the same mind.”
Once Alfred had his glass in hand, Bruce rose from his armchair. “I wanted to change how we do the Christmas toast this year, if you'll bear with me.”
“If I get a second glass I will.” Jason joked under his breath. Damian snorted.
“Since most of us didn’t get to spend Thanksgiving together and we’re coming up on a new year, I’d like us to share something we’re grateful for about the past year.”
“You sap.” Chuckled Dick.
“Is it something specific to the past year?” asked Tim, “Or something we realized? Or–”
“Whatever is easiest.” said Bruce. Alfred got the impression that parameters would be the easiest for Masters Tim and Cassandra, who were looking at each other in similar states of distress at the impromptu change.
“I’ll start.” Dick offered after a moment of thinking. He stayed seated on the sofa with Damian, long legs crossed and arm thrown across the back cushions, but raised his glass. “It's not always easy being your big brother–or son,” he added with a look at Bruce and Alfred, “but I am so proud of each of you. Watching you grow and come into your own this past year was a privilege.”
The logs popped and crackled as Dick leaned back, everyone absorbing his words. “Tough act to follow.” Jason finally said and they laughed.
Cass stood from her seat between the fireplace and the tree. “Thank you for embracing me. Every part of me. I don’t want to be anywhere but here, with you.” Alfred really wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through four more of these, let alone his own. Already his eyes were smarting, overcome by affection for the two eldest Wayne children.
“Okay fine, I’ll get this over with.” Jason raised his glass, also staying seated. “You’re not getting much out of me but…” he paused, swallowing hard, voice a little softer when he spoke again, “I’m here. And for that I’m grateful.” Alfred smiled when he sat back, reassured when Jason gave him a small one in return.
Clearing his throat, Tim stood. “I can’t stick to just this past year because I have to look back on all the years before. Growing up here and with all of you…who I am today is because of that. Good and bad. And I–” He broke off, fingers tightening around the fragile glass stem. “All of you got me through the past year. And the years before. I wouldn’t be here without you. So…thanks.” He sat back down on the loveseat, deliberately avoiding eye contact. Until Jason kicked his foot and they shared a quick tight smile.
All eyes gradually turned to Damian, who was staring straight ahead at the flickering flames. “This year has been…difficult, to say the least," said the teen, "I’ve learned a lot about myself but that’s mostly because of…it’s mostly thanks to you, Dick, I–” Damian looked at his brother, Dick’s expression blocked from Alfred’s view, and his face crumpled.
“Oh, little D.” Dick murmured as Damian turned his face away, burying it in his hands as he unexpectedly started weeping. Dick scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his little brother’s shoulders and leaning his head on his.
“You’ve shown me so much,” Damian forced out, tears garbling the words, “took care of me, taught me how to be Robin, how to be me. I didn’t realize until I was in the field, leading, and asking ‘what would Dick do?’”
“Don’t we all.” said Tim and another round of laughter went through the room, easing some of the tension.
“Thank you.” Wiping his tears, Damian leaned into Dick, giving him a proper hug. Alfred leaned over the back of the couch to hand them both tissues and squeeze Damian’s shoulder. He gave Alfred a grateful nod, dabbing at his eyes as he remained tucked against Dick's side.
His own eyes shining, Bruce stood. “We’ve had hard times, like a few of you have said, but I’m thankful that you all stayed with each other and me. That you continue to believe in me and forgive me when I fall short. I’m so proud of you all and I hope,” he paused to clear his throat, “I hope you can be proud of me.” From her seat on the floor, Cass reached up and held Bruce’s hand who smiled down at her. “Now–”
“Wait!” Damian blurted out, cheeks still blotchy but his voice steady again. “Alfred hasn’t gone.”
“You old sneak!” Jason playfully wagged a finger at him.
“Yeah, don’t hold out on us.” Added Tim.
“Very well.” Alfred raised his glass, everyone else following suit, ready for the closing toast. His heart felt near bursting seeing them all here and happy. “But I have to say it’s the same thing I’m grateful for every year. That each of you came home tonight safe and sound. And that these old rooms, in defiance of everything they’ve seen, are still filled with joy.”