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Dick Grayson had always known he'd have to tell Bruce first. Not just because it felt like the right thing to do, but because—deep down—he needed to. Bruce was his father, his mentor… and, though it was still difficult to admit, maybe even his friend when it mattered most. Besides, it had been Kory’s idea. She’d told him so while they sat together in her apartment, curled up between takeout boxes and half-folded baby clothes. It was her way of helping him prepare, of grounding the storm with something familiar.
Dick Grayson had faced many trials in life. He’d told Bruce Wayne things he wouldn’t dare say to anyone else. But even at thirty-four, he’d never been this nervous.
Because it’s not every day you tell your father, mentor, friend, and guide… that he’s going to be a grandfather.
And not just any grandfather. The kind who once glared down at aliens and gods alike without flinching. The kind who had almost married the same alien princess Dick had circled the stars with over a decade ago.
Maybe—just maybe—Dick should start worrying about his father’s blood pressure.
“Do you think it’s necessary?” Dick asked, his hand resting gently on Kory’s still-flat stomach as they sprawled across her couch. They were between missions, between real life and something much bigger.
“In a week, we’ll tell everyone anyway, right?”
Kory glanced at him, her brow furrowed before she sighed softly. “I think it’s for the best, Richard,” she said with a small smile. “This should be a moment between father and son. I’ve never been Bruce’s biggest fan, but even I think he deserves this—you deserve this.”
Kory had never shied away from sharing her feelings about Bruce. She’d seen too much—the way he’d shaped Dick as a teenager, what he’d done or failed to do with Jason, the tangled mess of expectations and silence he called ‘family.’ And Dick understood that. He understood it all too well.
“I can do that,” Dick said, quietly. “Do you think it’s the right call?”
Kory nodded. “This way, he can prepare. And maybe… maybe the two of you can talk.”
Dick nodded in return. He already had a plan: tell Bruce first, then the rest of the family—Clark and his family, the Titans. And with the Titans? Well, once you tell one, the rest will find out within the hour. It was how things worked in tight-knit hero circles. Gossip moved faster than speedsters. Especially when Wally or Roy got wind of anything.
He looked at Kory. Lately, she’d seemed more intense. Protective. Passionate. Stronger. He knew she was handling the news in her way. She needed time. And he wanted to give her that, even if she didn’t always ask for it. She’d grown more private over the years, more measured.
“Are you okay?” he asked gently.
Kory met his eyes. She knew exactly what he meant. “I’ll be fine. I mean… I wish things were different with my own family. But I’m okay,” she said, calm and steady. “Don’t worry about me, Richard.”
Of course, he’d worry anyway.
The days leading up to telling Bruce were filled with small distractions: ordering baby things online, talking about jobs, and apartment logistics. Dick knew he wouldn’t be moving—he lived with Kory now, even if he still technically had his place in the Titans’ Tower. But he liked being in her space. He liked how it grounded him. It reminded him of the early days, when they could pretend to be just two people navigating life without capes or cosmic crises.
Dick was a protector. He watched her like a hawk, calling her constantly when they were apart. Even though the biology of it all wasn’t complicated, it still felt like the universe had thrown them a curveball they weren’t entirely ready for. And it was precisely because of that uncertainty that they needed to start talking, planning, sharing.
“She's going to be born among the stars,” Dick said one night as they cooked together. Or rather, he cooked while Kory poked at her third round of spicy food that week. “In the Justice League’s med bay. That’s the plan.”
Kory raised an eyebrow as she settled onto the couch, a bowl in hand. The cravings were hitting hard—Earth food, sunbathing, exhaustion. No nausea, but everything else was dialed up. Her senses, her moods, her hunger. It was… a lot.
“When exactly did we decide that?” she asked, eyeing him with amused suspicion. “Because I don’t remember that being a mutual conversation.”
Dick sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. A soft “tt” slipped out—something he’d picked up from Bruce over the years. “Right, okay… but Kory, seriously. We need to talk about this. What if something happens suddenly?”
On Tamaran, pregnancies were fast. Births were powerful. Babies were born looking weeks old, surging with energy. It was nothing like Earth. And Kory… she wasn’t scared. But she wasn’t entirely calm either. Not when she looked in the mirror and barely felt pregnant, yet. Not when she felt Mar’i flutter in her core, yet still struggled to picture the future.
But when she looked at Dick—all anxious energy and serious planning—she couldn’t help the fond smile that crept over her lips.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said softly. “Once we tell everyone, they’ll help. Especially with… mixed-species births. For now, maybe you can start by finishing that crib you promised me.”
Dick’s laugh echoed warmly through the apartment.
It was a Saturday when he arrived at the Manor—the famous estate in Bristol. Kory had stayed behind in New York, choosing to spend time with Donna and soak up the California sun. Not that she needed it, but still.
He needed to do this alone.
The Manor had changed. Alfred was no longer with them, but the house stood strong, unchanged in the ways that mattered. His siblings had gone their own ways, grown into their own lives. But somehow, they all came back. They always came back.
Damian had left the Manor years ago, but he returned when it mattered. Jason only showed up for the big moments, preferring his own haunts. Tim lived with his boyfriend—Conner Kent—and Cass shared an apartment with Stephanie. Even Duke came back, despite living with his parents. There was something magnetic about this place. No matter how far they scattered, Wayne Manor pulled them in again.
Dick had once been the first to tell Bruce he should move somewhere smaller. Bruce refused. The Manor was home—it was where they all grew up, in one way or another. And Dick understood that, maybe too well. He couldn’t stay away from Blüdhaven either. Even after his last apartment burned down, he never really left the city. He kept things at the Manor, just in case. He had a hard time leaving places behind.
Ironic, really, for someone who spent eight years living out of a suitcase.
Now, all he could think about was Mar’i. Where would they raise her? Where would she grow up? Where would her treehouse be, her favorite toys, her little bed? Where would her stuffed animals live, and where would she take her first steps?
Maybe it was time to start answering those questions with Kory.
When he stepped into the Manor, he was greeted by the newest members of the family—or rather, Damian’s latest acquisitions. Titus and Ace had long been buried in the garden, loyal until the end. But his younger brother hadn’t stopped bringing animals home.
Now there were dogs, cats, chickens, turtles, cows, even a few sheep. Wayne Manor looked half like a Gothic estate and half like a farm.
The entrance hall hadn’t changed. The portraits on the walls had—Jason appeared in more of them now. But everything else remained the same. Familiar. Comforting.
He shut the door behind him and pulled out his phone.
“Where are you?” he texted Bruce.
“Batcave,” came the reply.
Dick sighed, then wandered into the kitchen. He found a jar of dog snacks—big ones, for big dogs—and handed a few out. The dogs instantly calmed and wandered off to chew in peace. He smiled. For all his distance, Bruce still wasn’t alone.
The Batcave had evolved. More suits lined the walls. More weapons. More memories. Jason’s Red Hood gear had a place now—proof of progress, in its own way. They didn’t talk often, but they weren’t as broken as they once were. Ten years ago, it would've been impossible to imagine this peace.
He spotted Bruce seated at the main computer, dressed in civilian clothes. One of Damian’s cats lay curled beside the chair, fast asleep. The cave, apparently, was still the favorite haunt of all pets.
Bruce turned around, his face lighting up with a rare smile.
For a second, Dick just looked at him.
His father—his mentor—had aged. The lines around his eyes were deeper, a few strands of gray in his hair. His movements were slower now. He made sounds when he stood up. Bruce Wayne had aged, and something in that hit Dick harder than expected.
He’d seen Bruce “die” more times than he could count, but the man always came back. Maybe that was their legacy—this family always came back from the dead.
They hugged briefly.
“I didn’t expect you this early,” Bruce said with a half-smile. “I would've made something.”
Dick chuckled. “What, tea and biscuits? Alfred-style?”
Bruce nodded solemnly. “What can I say? Raised by a very British butler. And you used to do the same, back when your place was the crash-pad for your siblings.”
Dick exhaled quietly.
That was a while ago. He didn’t have a permanent place anymore. Too many fires. Literally. After the last explosion took out his Blüdhaven apartment, he just… stopped settling down.
“Come on,” he said. “You make it sound like I’m couch-surfing. I have a floor at the Titans Tower.”
Bruce raised an eyebrow.
“And I learned my lesson about couches,” Dick added with a grin. “Especially after crashing at Jason’s. Never again.”
They sat in front of the computer, like old times. It wasn’t exactly the same—they still worked cases together, but not like before. Not like Batman and Robin. Those days were long gone.
“I came to tell you something,” Dick began.
Bruce looked up. “You’ve contacted everyone, right?”
Dick nodded. “Next Saturday. Just one more week.”
“And you still won’t tell me why this is so urgent?”
Dick hesitated. “I just want to talk to you first. Some of it’s… heavy.”
Heavy. That was one way to say it.
Telling your father—your adoptive father, your actual father—that he’s going to be a grandfather. Telling him it’s with the woman he almost married over a decade ago. That they weren’t exactly together now, not by definition, but they were something. Something real.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“You might want to sit down,” Dick said with a crooked smile.
Bruce was already seated, but the tension in the room sharpened. Dick’s shoulders ached, and his back was stiff with nerves. He didn’t get like this often, but with Bruce, these conversations were never just conversations.
Other families probably had easier ways of breaking news like this. But they weren’t them. This was Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson-Wayne. Saying something this big could unleash emotions neither of them knew how to name.
“I’ve rehearsed this a thousand times in my head,” Dick said, voice softer now. Bruce’s brows were furrowed, concern etched on his face. “Please don’t make that face. It’s a good thing.”
Bruce leaned back slightly. “Dick… your good news usually ends with me needing to do damage control. It’s like the time you told me you were joining the force. Then quitting. Then taking a year off to ‘find yourself.’ You and Jason have this weird way of saying ‘it’s good news’ when it’s anything but.”
Dick laughed under his breath.
This time, though… maybe it really was.
“Alright, alright…” Dick began, inhaling slowly and letting the breath out through his nose. “First, I need you to keep an open mind about all of this, okay?”
Bruce nodded once, silently, eyes fixed on his eldest son with that look—the kind only a father could give. Measured, steady, waiting.
“Okay, okay… and please, don’t interrupt. Not until I’m done.”
“Dick,” Bruce interjected with a low sigh, “if you don’t want me to interrupt, stop dancing around it.”
Dick let out a breath and nodded. “Right. Fair. Do you remember Kory?”
Another nod. No change in expression. Just listening. Bruce always listened more than people thought.
“Things between us have been… really good lately.” Too good, maybe, a voice in Dick’s head added—but he pushed it aside. This wasn’t about doubts.
“One thing led to another. Stuff happened. The point is…” He hesitated just a moment longer. Then, like ripping off a bandage:
“You’re going to be a grandfather.”
Silence.
“It’s a girl. Kory’s pregnant.”
The words hung in the air. For a second, Dick felt the weight leave his shoulders—like that ever-present chill along his spine had finally faded.
And then—arms.
Warm, solid, familiar. Pulling him into a tight, unexpected hug that stole the breath from his lungs. It took Dick a moment to respond, stunned, but then he returned the embrace with equal strength.
Bruce Wayne. Hugging him. First.
He’d gotten better with emotions—therapy had helped all of them—but this was different. Not performative. Not careful. Real.
Dick closed his eyes. Let it land.
After a minute, Bruce pulled back slightly. Dick caught the faintest shimmer in his father’s eyes—and a small, rare smile.
“Dick… Are you serious?” His voice cracked slightly with emotion.
Dick nodded.
“It all happened so fast. We’re still adjusting. I mean, biologically, with Kory… things are a little more complicated.” He gave a sheepish smile. “She’s four months along.”
Bruce stepped back, hand running through his hair. The smile didn’t leave. If anything, it grew.
“Are you two… together?” he asked, cautiously.
Dick understood the hesitation. He and Kory had a long, tangled history—engagements, breakups, reconciliations. A cycle too familiar.
“We’re… friends,” he said softly. “But we know exactly what we are. We’re going to raise this baby together. As partners. Maybe not in the traditional sense, but it’s real.”
Bruce nodded slowly, eyes soft. “A girl,” he repeated, almost in wonder.
“A girl,” Dick confirmed. “Kory can feel it. She’s sure. We’re naming her Mar’i Eleanor.”
Bruce looked up, the name catching him off guard.
“Eleanor. After Alfred’s mother.”
Dick nodded. “We wanted something that honored both sides. Something grounded.”
Bruce was quiet for a moment, swallowing thickly. There was so much between them, unsaid but deeply understood.
“You know I’ll help however I can.”
“I know,” Dick said. He did.
“I should speak with Kory,” Bruce added. “Congratulate her. We haven’t really had many one-on-one conversations.”
Dick smiled. Kory was doing well—thriving, even. The Justice League had offered her a leadership position more than once, but the Titans were her heart. Training the next generation, building something lasting—that was who Kory was. And Bruce respected that, even if their interactions were few.
“We want to keep things quiet for now. We’re figuring it all out—especially with the whole human-Tamaranian biology mix.” Dick glanced away, voice lower. “Truth is, I’m kind of freaking out. We don’t know how fast the pregnancy might progress. Could be weeks, could be months. It’s not like any of this is in the manual.”
Bruce nodded again. Understanding without judgment.
“Are you telling the others at the family lunch?”
“Yeah,” Dick said. “Figured it was time.”
“Everyone’s coming. Selina, Kate...”
Dick swallowed hard. The weight of that truth settled differently in his chest.
“Titans will find out eventually, too,” he added. “You know how fast word travels with them. But we’ll need help—medical, scientific. Stuff beyond what I can handle alone.”
Bruce rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you. Of both of you.”
Then he pulled him in again, a second hug—this one slower, steadier. A father's blessing.
Dick let himself lean into it. He remembered talking to Jason, hearing how Bruce once cried at his community college graduation. How he confessed his fear—under Scarecrow’s toxins, in private moments, that he wouldn’t live to see his children grow. Let alone his grandchildren.
Dick had felt that too. Never really thought he’d get here. A family, a future. Not like this.
But this? This felt right.
Bruce stepped back. “You’ve built something incredible, Dick. And telling me… trusting me… that means everything.”
Dick smiled, deep and genuine, from somewhere buried in his chest. Somewhere, he didn’t always let anyone reach.
“Thanks… Dad.”
Yeah.
This felt good.
They talk about everything.
Dick doesn’t hold back—at least not much. There are still moments, small moments, that he keeps for himself and Bruce. But he tells him the essentials. How did he find out. How things have been with Kory. The quiet joy of buying baby clothes together. They’re taking it slow, but both know that soon there’ll be more tests, more appointments, more reality. They talk about everything and nothing, just catching up like a father and son might.
Bruce can’t stop smiling. The pride is unmistakable in his expression. He’s always been proud of Dick—of all his children—but this is different. This feels like witnessing a new chapter he never thought he’d get to see. The future, not as a concept but as something real.
They talk about advice, about what might come next. But Dick tends to steer away from too many projections. He’s taking this as it comes. One moment at a time.
“It was Kory’s idea to tell you first,” Dick says after a while. “After we visited my parents’ graves, she brought it up. Said you should be the first to know.”
Something flickers across Bruce’s face—something rare. He nods slowly, clearly moved. His relationship with Kory has always been respectful, distant but cordial. This gesture touches something deeper.
“You know,” Bruce says with a soft smile, “Alfred would’ve loved this. He’d be thrilled—especially about the middle name. He’d be proud.”
Dick’s smile is bittersweet. “You think so? I feel like Alfred would be surprised by a lot of things these days.”
Bruce chuckles. “Jason graduating, Damian traveling the world… he’d love all of it. But having a baby in the house again after so many years? That would’ve been something else for him.”
That’s when it hits Dick—like a train.
Mar’i will be the first baby in the Manor in nearly fifty years.
Damian came in at eight. Dick had been the same age. Sure, babies came through sometimes—friends’ kids at cookouts or charity events—but never one of their own. Never one of the Waynes.
He’s the first. Maybe the only.
Jason didn’t want kids. Cass wasn’t interested. Tim practically panicked whenever he held a baby. Damian… well, he always respected them too much to have them. He knows he doesn't want them in the future.
But Dick… Dick always wanted a big family. Maybe it was the circus, or maybe it was Bruce taking in strays like him. It was just in him.
Maybe that was more weight than he expected to carry.
“You gonna bring out the old crib, Bruce?” Dick asks, half teasing. “Alfred showed us pictures of you in it once.”
Bruce lets out a rare, genuine laugh. “God, no. I think we can do better than that.” He claps his son on the back. “We’ll build a room just for her. A proper one.”
It's overwhelming, sure—but it’s also good. A new phase. A life-changing again, and this time in the right direction.
Dick returns to San Francisco two days later. He hates being away from Kory too long, especially now. The conversation with Bruce still lingers in his chest—warm, surreal. His father has changed with age, grown softer, more open to emotion, to hope. And Dick knows the next announcement—to the rest of the family—will be… chaos.
Kory greets him with a smile, one that says she missed him even if they texted constantly. Within minutes, they’re curled up in bed, half undressed—she’s wearing one of his old t-shirts, he’s in pajama pants. There’s no sex, just warmth. Touch. A shared quiet.
“No symptoms or anything?” Dick asks, hand resting gently over her stomach. There’s nothing visible yet, but they’ve seen the ultrasounds. Mar’i is there.
“Kory, seriously… You have to tell me everything. If anything feels off—”
She cuts him off with a soft shake of her head. “Richard, I promise. I’ll tell you if I feel dizzy, or sick, or anything. But right now? I feel good. I’ve been doing missions, training, everything’s fine. We Tamaran women get stronger when we’re expecting. Our bodies know we’re protecting someone precious.”
There’s that half-smile of hers again—wry and full of power.
Kory hasn’t stopped living. She still trains the young Titans, still goes on missions, helps Donna, mentors the new generation. Life continues. Sure, she needs more sun than usual, her appetite has skyrocketed, and some smells make her nauseous. But nothing like what the forums warned about. No fatigue, no pain. Just strength.
Sometimes she wishes her belly would show just a bit more. Not much—just enough to see what she already feels. The connection to Mar’i is there, always, a Tamaran bond that runs soul-deep.
Still, she’s afraid. Afraid of the past, of her family’s shadow, of things she can’t quite name. But—however cliché it sounds—Richard is here. She’s not alone. She’s not in danger. She’s safe.
Richard calls, he texts, he cares. He may be overbearing sometimes, but when she looks into his eyes, all she sees is a man terrified of losing what he’s only just found.
“I’m still worried,” he admits, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You have to tell me everything.”
“I will, Richard,” she promises, her hand brushing his cheek. “Now… will you tell me how it went with Bruce?”
Dick lets out a surprised little laugh. “It went well. I think he’s excited—really excited. He’s probably already setting up a trust fund for Mar’i, making lists, ordering furniture...”
His smile is genuine. “This is the first baby in the Manor. The first Wayne baby.”
Kory smiles back.
She knows Mar’i is already loved. Not just by them, but by everyone. She’ll have a family that would go to war for her.
“Richard…” she says in that gentle voice only she can manage. “I think he’s excited about everything. You, me, all of it.”
“He never expected this,” Dick says quietly. “He always thought he’d die on a mission someday. This… this must feel unreal to him. But he’s changing. Getting older. Softer.”
Kory chuckles lightly.
She’s never been Bruce’s biggest fan. If she sees something she doesn’t like, she’ll say it. But she respects him in her own way. Their dynamic is… complicated. Always has been. But if things stay calm, she’s happy to keep the peace.
“These kinds of news… they’re celebrations,” Kory says. “They’re overwhelming too, but that’s part of it. We just have to be ready for next week.”
Dick groans, but with a smile.
He is getting ready.
It’s going to be a madhouse.
He can already imagine it.
But for now, he just wants this quiet moments with Kory, time to breathe. Maybe they still haven’t defined what they are, maybe they never will. But one thing is certain: they’re bound for life.
Because soon, a small person will enter the world—someone who will forever remind them of each other.
Separation? It’s no longer possible.
With that thought, Dick Grayson leans in and kisses Kory Anders.
Yes. One more quiet week. A little more privacy before the storm.
Because everything is about to change.