Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Batman knew that he was more than one person from a young age. He had eavesdropped on Alfred’s conversation with the family psychiatrist a month after Bruce’s (his? He still isn’t sure if he’s allowed to claim them) parents died. It was incredibly easy for him, because eavesdropping was not something polite young Bruce would do. But soon enough after the diagnosis- something called Dissociative Identity Disorder- Alfred caught on to his tricks too. “Master Bat,” as Alfred called him back then, before he grew into a man and changed his name to reflect that, “You know better than to fight the children at school.” “I won’t let them call Bruce an orphan or beat him up,” he always retorted. That was his job, to protect Bruce. Not even Alfred could stop him from that. So, instead, Alfred taught him how to protect better. How to come home with less bruises and black eyes. 

In school, Bat made a friend in Harvey Dent. Or rather, the “other” Harvey, or “Two,” as he liked to be called, another protector just like him. Bat passed his knowledge to Two, and they were inseparable at school when they were “out.” This bled over to Bruce and Harvey as well, bonding over their gaps in memory and being bullied by the other students. Alfred became familiar with the other boy, both sides of him, being brought over by Bruce or Bat. 

Over the years, Bruce and Bat both grew up and became more and more individuals. Bruce enjoyed spending his time watching The Gray Ghost, hanging out with his friends from college, and going to parties and flirting with anyone who looked at him. Bat preferred to stay in, reading police reports and training various fighting methods with Alfred. 

Bruce never remembered what Bat did, or even knew he existed. He and Alfred kept it that way, the two figuring that it would keep him safe to not know he was not alone in his mind. But over the years, it became harder and harder to hide. Then Bat decided to travel. He wanted to train under anyone who would take him, he wanted to protect not just Bruce anymore, but all of Gotham. And to do that, he needed to learn from the best. He was able to fully take over the body and front for a majority of the trips, learning everything he could from anyone who would teach him, using Bruce’s name and money. When they finally returned home, Bat became Batman, and Bruce returned. Bruce wasn’t stupid, he went to med school. He talked psychiatry with Harley and Jonathan to help them study. He was missing multiple years from his memory. He woke up every night with bruises, fractures, stab wounds- All he needed to do was watch the news. 

When he confronted Alfred, they all knew the secret was out. Luckily, After a few months of adjustment, it seemed to be a positive thing overall. They came up with the system of leaving notes for each other. Bruce’s notes were always left in messages on the Batcomputer where he knew Batman would see them. They would say things like “Remember to read that guide on stitching I left in the cave,” or “Keep the face clear, I have meetings this week.” Batman would leave his notes on sticky notes on the bedroom mirror or fridge, where Bruce would see them while getting ready for meetings or press conferences. His messages mostly said things like “Fractured wrist, wear longer suit jackets to hide the brace,” or “Got stabbed, cancel your plans.” They both agreed that Bruce would not get any details of what happened on patrol, since the whole reason Batman even existed was to shield Bruce from the various horrors around him. 

Then they decided to go to the circus, and everything got complicated. Lovable, fun, and caring, but complicated. 

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Bruce was the one who had brought them to the circus. He had decided that they both needed a break, and the circus seemed like a good idea. Unfortunately, a certain accident sent Batman reeling into front. Ever grateful that he didn’t suffer from amnesia like Bruce, he rushed to the side of the now orphaned child in front of him. He cradled and comforted him, shielding him from the same pain he had been shielding Bruce from for so many years. He comforted the boy until the police came, but it still didn’t feel like he was doing enough. So he volunteered to care for the newly orphaned Dick Grayson in Bruce’s name. 

-

“Alfred,” Bruce called in a worried voice, watching the scene unfold before him. There was currently a child swinging from the chandelier of the foyer. The butler made his way in and followed where Bruce was looking with surprise. “Alfred, Bat did not leave a note about this.” The butler straightened his composure, “No, it was quite a spur of the moment thing. Nevertheless, he thought you would agree with his course of action. The boy’s name is Dick Grayson, and he will be living with us now. I have already enrolled him in school.” Bruce takes a moment to reconcile with the fact that the person he shares a brain with decided to adopt a child without asking him. A dog or cat would be one thing, hell even a raccoon or some other weird unconventional pet would be fine, but a child? How were they supposed to care for a child in their… state? 

“Hey, chum,” Bruce says uneasily, referring to a nickname his dad called him long ago. It sent pangs of sadness and grief flowing through him, especially since he sounds so much like his father now as a man. “Can you get down from the chandelier please? It’s not safe.” The child, Dick, fixes him with an intense stare. “Okay,” he says quietly after a moment. He jumps from the chandelier, and before Bruce can try to catch him, he does a quadruple flip and lands perfectly unharmed and upright on the floor. “That’s- some trick,” Bruce says tightly, feeling his heart racing in his chest. He can feel himself start to drift, Bat trying to come in at the feeling of anxiety. Bruce grounds himself. 

“I think we should talk about a few things,” Bruce says to Dick, “Why don’t we go to-” He stops himself before he says ‘office,’ “The den. Alfred, can you bring us some tea and sandwiches?” “Of course, Master Bruce.” Dick shrugs and follows Bruce up the stairs to one of the nearby dens. This one was full of bookshelves and had a few couches and armchairs. Bruce sits on an armchair and Dick flops onto the couch across from him. “So, Dick.” Bruce tries not to feel awkward about the whole situation. Honestly, he’s kind of excited to raise a child. He had thought about having kids in the future, but never expected it would be so soon- Or under these circumstances. 

“There’s… Something you need to know about me, that I think is important for you to know if I am to be your guardian.” “Are you a serial killer or something?” Bruce chuckles, “No, nothing like that. I Have a sort of… Illness? It’s entirely mental. I have it because when I was a boy, I went through a very similar experience to what you went through recently. It hurt me so badly that I… Split. Into two people.” Dick raises an eyebrow, but Bruce continues his explanation. “The other one, he was made to protect me, and to keep the memories of what I saw away from me. He was the one that helped you that night.” Alfred thankfully comes in with the tea and sandwiches. Dick happily takes a turkey sandwich and eats it, and Bruce uses that to keep going. “The point of all this is to say that I don’t always remember what he does. So I may not remember things, and you may have to remind me.” Dick stops eating for a moment. “So you’re like Jekyll and Hyde but not evil.” Bruce chuckles, “Yes, I suppose so.” The boy thinks for a minute. “How do I know which one of you I’m talking to?” Alfred answers that question, being more familiar with it himself. “The other master is more… gloomy than Master Bruce. He has a deeper voice as well.” Dick shrugs, “Okay. Cool.” He eats his sandwich, and doesn’t seem to care that his new guardian is a two-in-one package deal. 

-

“You didn’t tell me the other guy was Batman!” Dick shrieks happily over breakfast one day. “He’s so cool! He told me about the police case on my parents! We’re going to go investigate tonight.” Bruce looks over his plate of waffles in surprise, “He what?” Dick ignores him and digs into his own waffles with apple slices on top. Alfred pours Bruce a cup of coffee, “Master Dick didn’t give Master Bat much of a choice. He wandered into the Batcave and asked many questions, and you know how much he dislikes questions.” “Surely that can’t be good for a child,” Bruce whispers. “I think, if you try to stop him, he will do it anyway,” Alfred whispers back, “Better to have adult supervision.” Bruce sighs, but begins to eat. He sends a message to the batcomputer for Batman later; “If the boy is hurt, I will smash the computer.”