Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Unlike the usual gloomy clouds that poured all their water down onto the city. Today was quite sunny. The sun blazing down onto the city, giving the water and the windows in the city a golden glow to it. This was the perfect day to go out and enjoy the warm summer day. At least that’s what Bruce said.

Bruce tried to have family days as often as he could, but they don’t always work out, and most of the time he cancels due to something coming up that’s important. They go out maybe once every two months.

Even if that happens, he always makes sure to spend time with everyone individually. Today just so happened to be Dick’s Day.

He had decided to take Dick out to a coffee shop not far from the manor, with the intention to spend time with his son. Although that didn’t happen very often, as people recognize them from time to time. Today he happened to get recognized by the customer behind him.

To be honest, he just wanted to get the drinks and get out. He wanted to have an easy day and just spend time with his son. Not talk to some stranger who doesn't know the real him.

“Hey! You’re Bruce Wayne, aren’t you?” The man stated with a smile. Bruce sighed as he turned around to greet the man. “Yes. I am.” He gave the man a smile in return. “I never thought once in my life I would run into you!” The man then glanced over to Dick, who was making no effort to look at him, talk to him, or do anything. Bruce understood why, though. Being a vigilante at night and working during the day doesn’t give him enough time to sleep. He was exhausted. Maybe they could cut their day short and go back to the manor.

He glanced over at Dick's face. He was a little worried about him. Next time, when one of his children are too tired to go out, he should just reschedule. He made sure to make a mental note of that.

Bruce looked over at the man who seemed to be trying to talk to him. “Hey you, Dick Grayson, right? Bruce Wayne’s son?” He questioned, which received a small nod from Dick. “How are you? Is it fun living in a manor? Do you attend Gala’s with Bruce?” He asked, but Dick didn’t answer any of them. The most he would do is nod or shake his head.

The joy on the man’s face soon turned to frustration. “Why isn’t he looking or talking to me? Doesn’t he know that rude?” He exclaimed, which made Bruce sigh. “He’s tired, and I don’t expect him to communicate with people who he doesn’t want to communicate with. Plus, I can’t force him to do anything he doesn’t want to.” The man scoffed and crossed his arms while rolling his eyes. “It’s impolite.” He stared at Bruce with an intense glare. “I understand that, but he just doesn’t want to socialize right now, so please respect that.” Bruce gently grabbed Dick by the shoulder and guided him away, but not before hearing the man’s comment on his lousy parenting.

Bruce wanted to tell the man to shut up, and he has no idea what he was talking about, but he didn't for Dick's sake. He didn't want to make a scene or cause anyone else trouble, so he kept his head low and didn't talk.

He made his way to the counter to buy their drinks, making sure Dick was beside him. He glanced at the options and got his card out to pay. He tried his best to ignore the man's comments he was muttering under his breath and just get the drinks. He wasn't about to ruin a perfect day and spend time with his son over some random idiot who doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut and doesn't know how sometimes people don't like social interactions this early in the morning.

He was going to spend time with Dick and make sure he was happy. He was going to keep his promise and spend time with his family members. He was going to make this fun for both of them. He would make it happen, and he won't let anything ruin it.

In the meantime, Dick slowly turned his head over to the man, glaring at him with murderous eyes and gritted teeth. How dare someone like him talk about Bruce like that… He cracked his knuckles, ready to beat the man ‘till he was nothing but atoms. He wanted the man to feel nothing but pain and misery for the next few years of his life. Disrespecting him was okay, but disrespecting Bruce was not okay at all.

Sure, Bruce was stubborn sometimes, but he was a good man and father who had taken him after his parents had died and gave him the best life he possibly could with no knowledge on how to take care of a child. He was the best second father he could possibly ask for.

He snapped out of it when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Bruce stared as he gave him a concerned smile. "You okay?" He asked, and Dick tiredly nodded. He wishes he was able to get more sleep. But that's fine. Patrols with Bruce were mostly fun.

Bruce guided him to the shop, glancing at the now terrified man on his way. He stared at them with wide, horrified eyes, hands trembling in the process. Dick rolled his eyes at this. He didn't even do anything that crazy. Just glaring at him and maybe a little threatening gestures. That guy was weak.

They stopped at the crosswalk, and Bruce handed him a smoothie. “Here.” He smiled softly at Dick, and he smiled back at Bruce, taking it from him. He took a sip and looked at Bruce. "My favorite. You remembered?" He asked. "Of course I did."

A perfect sunny day.

Chapter Text

In all honesty that existed in Jason’s heart, he didn't know how it came to this. He never imagined his day starting out with surprisingly pleasant weather and a walk to a nearby fast food restaurant to get food with Bruce. He could tell the billionaire was happy about it, though. They rarely spent time together because Jason hated it...but this felt nice. Not that he would admit it.

He walked behind him, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at anyone who looked at him or Bruce, which often made them look away in fear. Serves them right, they should be minding their own damn business.

Bruce held open the door for him when they got to the place. Surprisingly, it didn't smell that bad and looked fairly clean, unlike some places. Thankfully they were gonna grab the food and go back home, though the place was still disgusting to be in for more than half an hour.

They went up to the counter, and after a while of this, Jason started zoning out in his own thoughts, looking at every detail in the fast food restaurant they were in. Which one were they in again? He should've looked at the sign. It didn't matter anyway. Bruce mostly had good taste in food. Mostly.

There weren't that many people, only about two families that weren't very big. One was a family of three, a mother, a father, and a child who seemed under the age of five and was crying for something the father had. The other was a father and a kid no older than ten who was patiently waiting next to their very tired father.

The sound of cooking could be heard above the music they had playing. There also seemed to be about five employees working. Two in the front and three in the back. The two in the front often went to the back as well, mostly to help out with the cooking as this place seemed to be understaffed. The drive-through must be packed.

He was brought back when Bruce placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he couldn't help but unconsciously lean into the touch ever so slightly. "What do you want? Or do you want me to order for you?" Jason thought about it for a moment. "Just order for me. No vegetables or fruits in my meal though." That earned a stern look from the man. "Jay." He groaned at this. "Fine! Add some fruit but no vegetables!" Thankfully, that made Bruce get off his back. He hated the taste of greens, but Bruce insisted on having something healthy once in a while. It felt stupid. It was stupid.

He went back to zoning out, glancing around. One of the restrooms was out of order. The tiles on the walls were a dull red and a dead-looking blue that were checked pattered at the bottom, which faded into fully red at the top. The colors were most likely like that due to how old the place was.

One of the lights flickered at a constant rate of five seconds while another was permanently dimmed. The front counter had a tip jar and a display of some dessert items. The fountain machine had some spilled soda at the bottom and th- "Ready to go?" He glanced over at Bruce before nodding and grabbing the bags from him. Suddenly he heard a different voice.

"Care to leave a tip?" The worker asked, not even bothering to mask the annoyance in their voice. Bruce reached for his wallet because, of course he did. Jason grabbed Bruce's arm and glared at the worker. "Why leave a tip when you're doing the bare minimum at your job?" The worker scoffed, "All I did was ask for a tip. Plus, he looks like he could spare a few dollars for the needy." They said, gesturing to Bruce's fancy-looking suit and shiny, clean shoes.

"So? Why the hell would he give money to a stuck-up snob who probably dropped out of high school because they were too stupid to understand the material, so the only option they had was to work at a disgusting fast food place that pays below minimum wage. If you want money, ask your stupid fucking family for it." His voice low and gruff. He was pissed off by this stupid son of a bitch. Thankfully that shut them up, and they quickly muttered a pathetic excuse of a sorry. He'll make sure to yell at them the next time they come here.

He then dragged Bruce out by the arm. The door chimed once he opened it. He let go once they started to walk back to the manor. He could practically feel the warmth in Bruce's dumb smile. He hated how much he missed it and how much it used to bring him comfort back then.

He hated how much he missed Bruce...He hated how much it hurt to be away so long, and he hated how Bruce still loved him after everything. It still didn't change the fact that Bruce...did that. That he let that monster live. That he replaced him so easily. Why?...He always asked why. But he never got an answer, and he never will. Maybe he is fine with that if it meant things could stay the way they are right now.

He glanced up at the sky. So bright and blue. The wind blowing softly in his face, a calming song filling the air as the birds flew over Gotham's normally gloomy city. He took a breath of the salty air. It's going to rain soon. Like usual.

He took his mind off of it by complaining about the workers manners and how much he wanted to hit them in the face while also saying to Bruce that he shouldnt give money to rude people like that the whole walk home while snacking on the food from the bags he was carrying.

Mostly good taste in food.

Mostly.

Chapter Text

He had decided to have a lazy day today. Snow covered the ground and chilled the windows. A perfect day to cuddle up under the blankets and rest on the couch, drinking some hot chocolate and scrolling on his phone...which was a bad idea because of a comment he saw under one of Bruce's yearly holiday posts. Sure, Bruce got thousands of hate comments every day, but this was too much. Way too much.

Threatening to unalive Bruce because he was 'heartless' for not giving his money away, which he is not, is going way overboard. Bruce throws charity events almost three times a year. No one will threaten him while he was here.

He needed to find out who this person was so they could have a little 'chat.'

He clicked on the person's profile. No posts. No bio. No profile pic. Nothing that will directly give him away. He also couldn't directly message him due to the privacy settings he must have enabled. The only way to identify this person was to look to see who he was following and who was following him. This could be fun.

---

It took some time, but he finally managed to figure out who this person was. All he had to do was see who he was following and who was following back. This led to two people. One didn't have much information. They only made two posts, and both were about some random crap he didn't understand. The other one was a woman who seemed to be in her late forties. She had about two hundred and thirty followers and posted a lot. In her bio, it had "Mom of 3" along with some other sappy stuff. She seemed like a nice lady. 

He contacted her, asking if she knew the person, and thankfully she texted back, saying it was a guy named Andrew. They talked for a few more minutes, but that was only so he could gain her trust to get his phone number, which he accomplished in the end.

He then texted him one thing.

"Apologize." 12:42 pm 

Now all he had to do was wait.

--- 

It took some time, but his phone soon lit up with the notification.

"Who is this?" 1:01 pm

"Doesn't matter." 1:02 pm

"Tell me or I'll block you." 1:05 pm

"Apologize to Bruce Wayne." 1:05 pm

"That spoiled fucking prick? No way in hell am I apologizing to that man." 1:07 pm 

He scoffed when he heard his phone start to ring. This guy was really calling him? Should he answer? Who gives a damn anymore. 

He answered it.

"Who are you?" The man's voice was cold and threatening. Or well, tried to be. It probably would've scared regular people, but he wasn't regular people. "Why does that matter?" The man let out a scoff? Snarl? Some noise that sounded disgusting? "Why the hell should I apologize to that son of a bitch? He has done nothing for Gotham." Tim thought for a moment on what to say. He knew this guy's address.

...

He knew this guy's address.

He couldn't help but smile at that fact as he told the man the exact location where he lived. He could almost imagine what his face looks like. Pale. Trembling. Sweating. "W-...What did you say?" His voice now a mere whisper. "I think you heard me plenty clear." He answered. 

He heard the man let out a shaky breath. "You're insane." Tim laughed at that. Insane? He was probably past that point. "Apologize publicly. Video and everything." His voice now sounding numb. "Wait...video? Please…I'll do anything but that...my family follows me. They check my social media." "Do I look like I care? Do it in the next few minutes or you're done." He said immediately after the man, almost cutting him off. "Please, i-" 

Tim hung up. 

His voice was growing annoying. After that, he made sure no one could trace his call. Just in case the man tried calling the police. He then went back to the comments under Bruce's post and waited. 

--- 

He was shaken awake by a large hand on his shoulder. He had fallen asleep? He sluggishly pushed himself up into his arms and glanced around until his gaze landed on Bruce. "Did you do this?" Bruce asked, holding up his phone, which showed a five-minute-long video of a middle-aged man apologizing for his comment, which he made under Bruce's post. Golden.

He shook his head, which earned a smile from him. "Okay." His voice was soft. He could fall back asleep just from hearing it.

He could tell Bruce knew. 

He laid his head back down on the couch when Bruce left. Well, he thought he left. Just a few minutes later he could feel a hand lazily brushing through his hair, and then a whisper came.

"Sweet Dreams."

Chapter Text

Damian had been painting in his room for a little over an hour now, or maybe more, he wasn’t counting. It brought a peacefulness for him that left him calm and relaxed. Feeling the paintbrushes' material, the wet paint making contact with his skin, the way the vibrant paints lit up the canvas with each stroke. Each stroke just as important as the last. The tiny details made it shine even more. Glowing yellows, soft off-whites, baby blues, grayish greens. It had to be perfect. It was going to be perfect.

He was pulled away from his paints, canvas, and serenity upon hearing his bedroom door creak open, the motion soft and careful— curious, even. "So this is where you've been hiding. Have you eaten anything today?" It was Father. His father. He had a soft smile on his tired, worried face. "No. Not yet." He could practically hear the sigh coming. "And why is that?" Damian simply gestured to his canvas, as if it had all of the answers he needed. "You couldn't have taken a break to eat?" Damian stared at his father. He had been so immersed in his painting that time seemed to have stopped. "I was focused."

His paintbrush and palette were put down in a swift motion before he stood up. "What were you painting?" Damian looked back at it before hesitantly answering. "It was supposed to be a surprise gift for you." He turned the canvas a bit so Bruce could see it. "It's beautiful, baby." He said as he walked over to his youngest son, placing his warm, comforting hand on his shoulder as he stared at the half-finished painting with soft, loving eyes.

Damian froze upon hearing Bruce call him that. His cheeks grew to be a rosy red from embarrassment. He couldn't believe that Father would ever call him something so endearing and loving. He felt a pang of heat in his chest. His hand made its way over to it, gripping his shirt as he stared at the wooden flooring under them. So this is what it felt like to be seen. To be loved for who he was.

He could see how much time was spent on this. The vase, spiky stem, each flower petal painted with love. Each color blended perfectly with each other. He even had a lamp pointed at it so he knew what the true colors looked like in the dim room.

"I painted it with the blood of your enemies. Don't worry, Father. I will protect you." Damian stated, getting himself together, his eyes glancing at his father's face. He didn't seem to be disturbed by what he had said. In fact, he looked amused. "Oh yeah? Who was it?" Damian couldn't help but let out a small grin. "You will see when you go out on patrol. A few villains will be missing due to their current injuries." Bruce chuckled at that before leading his son out of the room. "Let's get some food in your stomach."

Bruce turned the light off fully, glancing at the crackling lamp before he closed the door behind them with a soft click, the silver knob twisting back in place as their footsteps grew quieter as they left.

His grip tightened on his son's small shoulder upon feeling him lean against him, the fabric crumpled against his hand.

He loved him more than he could ever know.