Chapter Text
Dick Grayson hadn’t felt this nervous in a long time. Telling Bruce had been one thing, but telling everyone else? That was different. Even though the family had been patching things up over the years, there were still cracks. Not the deep, gaping kind from before, when no one spoke and everyone walked on eggshells, but the quieter, persistent kind. Still, they talked now. Maybe not perfectly. Maybe not like a family that belongs on the cover of a magazine. But they talked. And maybe that’s why this felt so big—because for once, he wasn’t going to carry it alone.
This time, he wasn’t just revealing a new mission or another trauma tucked in the folds of his history. He was going to tell them something different.
He was going to be a father.
With Kory.
The same woman he once almost married over fourteen years ago. The woman he once pictured as a young family with. Maybe they were doing it now—just... under different circumstances. They weren’t dating. Not officially. They weren’t a couple, or engaged, or anything that came with labels. They were... together, just not defined. Lovers. Friends. Something in between.
All Dick knew was that every time she looked at him, he came back to her bed, and she let him stay.
And maybe that was enough now. Maybe at thirty-four, he didn’t need the old narrative—marriage, white picket fences, a life modeled after the parents he lost. Maybe now, he was happy just knowing that when he knocked, Kory opened the door.
He watched her now, radiant as ever. Loose pants, an oversized T-shirt, and wild auburn hair falling past her shoulders. She looked beautiful—she always did—but lately, it was something else. Her beauty seemed to grow, shift with time, soft and glowing. Maybe it was the way her stomach had begun to curve ever so slightly. Just yesterday, she'd sent him a profile picture, asking if she looked “bloated.” He hadn’t said a word. Just smiled. And when he got to her apartment, they’d both ended up quietly, giddily overwhelmed.
Still, Dick could tell Kory was nervous. It wasn’t always in the words—it was in the way she moved, in the little winces she tried to hide. Tamaranean biology didn’t work like Earth’s, but with a half-human child growing inside her, everything was... unpredictable. Watching her throw up that morning had unsettled him. Maybe it was the lack of sunlight. Maybe it was the human DNA.
Either way, it scared him.
“You know,” he said gently, rubbing her back as she leaned over the toilet, “we don’t have to do this today. Bruce can make up an excuse. We can come up with something.”
Kory glanced up.
That look could’ve shut anyone up. Classic Kory. Fierce, even in her worst moments.
She’d been feeling mostly fine. But not always. She wasn’t on Tamaran. No Tamaranean prenatal vitamins. No native foods for her condition. She was adapting, mimicking Earth nutrition, trying her best. The sun helped, but not enough. Some days, her body betrayed her.
Still, she shook her head. “No. We’re going.”
He handed her a cloth, and she wiped her lips, closing her eyes briefly. “We’re telling them. That’s it.”
Dick nodded. He didn’t say it aloud, but he’d noticed the changes. Small things. Her growing sensitivity to noise. How Gar’s voice had started to annoy her, how she flinched at sounds she used to ignore. Hormones, maybe. Or the human mix. He kept quiet, didn’t want to point out things that might make her feel worse. Instead, he tried to help where he could.
“Just promise me you’ll tell me how you’re feeling,” he said softly, fingers brushing her spine. “Any time. Don’t hide it from me.”
She nodded again.
A few minutes later, things were calmer. Kory was in the bedroom, changing outfits. Dick sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone. A message from Jason popped up: Hope this is good news, idiot. flew in from italy. no wine for you—you're lucky i came at all.
Dick chuckled. It felt strange—good strange—to have everyone back in Gotham. Bruce had set him up in one of his private apartments in the city, insisting it would be better this way. It was weird... but good.
"Jason's already complaining about being back," he called out toward the bedroom.
Kory’s laugh floated out in response.
“I bought you some maternity pants, you know.”
She stepped out and looked at him.
She looked... perfect.
Not just beautiful—transcendent. He could see the changes. Not just physically, but in how she carried herself. He’d been reading everything he could—books, articles, even obscure threads on alien pregnancies. Anything to prepare.
Kory sighed, switching from tight jeans to a loose-fitting dress. “A few days ago, I didn’t look like this. Now it’s like... nothing fits anymore.”
Dick smiled. “Maybe she’s ready to show herself.”
Another sharp look from Kory.
“I mean it,” she said, smoothing the fabric over her stomach. “I think she knows. I feel like she knows she’s going to be announced today.”
She’d read somewhere that babies "hid" before the reveal, that once their presence was shared with the world, they bloomed. She liked the idea. She liked believing that Mar’i was already listening.
She sat down beside him, and Dick reached out, placing a hand on her belly. It was a soft curve—barely there—but to him, it was everything. The beginning of something profound.
“Promise me again,” he said quietly, “you’ll tell me when something’s wrong.”
She arched a brow. “I’m not nervous, Richard.”
He tilted his head. “Maybe I am.”
Kory studied him. “You're nervous about them, aren't you?”
He exhaled. “It’s the first baby in the family, Kory. I’ve played this scene in my head too many times. I don’t know how they’ll react.”
Kory smiled gently. “She’ll be adored, Richard. I know that. Children should be loved. Protected. Cherished by their family.”
He looked at her, really looked. There was a weight in her voice—a memory, maybe, or a hope. He didn’t push. He just stayed beside her.
“She’ll be more than adored,” Dick said with a soft laugh. “Though... Damian might be a little conflicted. Not the baby of the family anymore.”
Kory grinned. “And Duke?”
“Duke’s gonna love it. He’s always wanted to be the older one.”
They laughed together, the kind of easy laughter that came from years of history, not labels.
“It’s going to be fun watching their reactions,” Kory said, leaning back. “And after them… our friends. That’ll be even better.”
Dick had spent way too much time on social media lately. His feed was filled with gender reveals, baby announcements, all algorithm-fed after he’d googled pregnancy + symptoms.
“We could do one of those surprise reveals for the Titans,” he offered, half-joking. “Hand them a box, something baby-themed.”
Kory raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? You want to record it too?”
He shrugged. “Could be fun. The family gets the lunch announcement, nothing flashy. But the Titans? We could plan something.”
She laughed again—genuine and soft. Maybe she would’ve come up with that idea herself. But somehow, it felt right that he did. Like Mar’i was already pulling them into the next chapter. Like she wanted to be seen. Heard. Known.
Kory just nodded.
They left a few minutes later, each carrying a suitcase. Bruce had asked everyone to stay at the manor for the weekend—they could leave whenever they wanted.
Maybe it was their age now, or just the fact that Bruce spent too much time alone in that place, but most of them—well, some of them—had decided that staying the weekend didn’t sound so bad anymore.
They were in the car now. Dick was driving, Kory in the passenger seat, sunlight catching in her fiery hair. She broke the silence first, her voice soft and reflective as they waited at a red light.
“It’s been a long time since I stayed at your old home,” she said, glancing out the window. “Is everything still the same?” Dick sighed, his grip tightening slightly on the wheel. It was true.
Their relationship had mostly existed in the Titans Tower, back when everything was different—when Dick had been actively pulling away from Bruce, from the family, from him . He’d only brought Kory to the manor a handful of times, and even then, it always ended in uncomfortable silences and complicated looks across the dinner table.
Eventually, he’d just stopped trying. The Tower had felt more like home than the manor ever could during that time. But that was before... before a lot of things.
Before they changed. Before he changed.
He smiled faintly. “It's a little more high-tech, but yeah, still the same. Harder without Alfred, but Bruce refuses to let the place lose its charm.”
The car moved forward as the light turned green.“Though now there are more animals than ever. Damian started a mini sanctuary. Then he left it all to Bruce.”
Kory laughed, a real, delighted sound.
Of course, he had.
Damian—nineteen now—had graduated high school with honors, turned down a fast-track to college, and gone off to travel the world in search of himself... and whatever else the world had to offer. He was back now, briefly. They all were. A family orbiting the same gravitational pull, even if only temporarily.
“I remember hearing something from the new Titans recruits,” Kory said thoughtfully. “Someone mentioned they found a small dragon... and Damian adopted it?”
Dick chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
She smiled. “He’s always impressed me. A warrior through and through—overcoming everything thrown at him. And that presence . It's hard not to admire him.”
Dick glanced at her, warmth in his eyes.
“He’s always liked you, you know. When you two first met, he later told me he approved of our relationship. Said you were a worthy warrior. And... he thought it
was cool you were descended from cats.”
He gave a half-smile. “I tried to explain Tamaranean biology more than once, but he didn’t care. Said it ruined the image.”
Kory laughed again, brighter this time, her gaze soft with memory.
She remembered Damian well—had watched him grow up, even after things ended with Dick. She’d seen all of them grow, really: Jason, Tim, Cassandra, Stephanie, Duke. Even when she was distant, she’d always kept an eye on them.
There had been arguments, moments of tension during missions—but in the end, Dick’s family had grown on her. In their chaotic way.
Maybe she wasn’t nervous about seeing
them
again.
Maybe what unnerved her was how real things were becoming.
She was usually good at hiding her fears. At carrying them quietly. But this—this-this was different. Dick reached over and took her hand, driving with the other, and somehow that calmed her in a way words couldn’t.
“It’ll be strange seeing him all grown up,” she said with a wistful breath. “Last time I saw him, he was arguing with Timothy about not being tall enough, and Tim kept teasing him about it.”
Dick laughed. “He was super sensitive about that back then,” he said. “He was seventeen, and he wanted to join a martial arts league that had a height requirement. Missed it by a couple of inches. But hey—he’s taller than Tim now.”
Kory nodded, a knowing smile on her lips.
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it was peaceful. Like the tension had been folded back into the cushions of the car, leaving just the two of them and the road ahead.
Still, Kory felt that gnawing sensation in her stomach again. Not fear, exactly. Anticipation. Reality is creeping in at the edges. After this weekend, everything would change.
They’d need to decide how they’d raise Mar’i. Where. How.
What parts of Tamaran could she hold onto… and what parts of Earth she’d have to accept.
Things were different here.
Parenthood was different.
But Kory knew she’d need to talk about all of it with Richard—everything from cultural identity to nursery colors.
But for now? For now, her appetite had taken over.
“I need food,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “The spiciest thing Gotham has. I want it to hurt .”
Dick gave a low laugh and nodded.
“I think I know just the place,” he said, tapping the car’s touchscreen to check the time. “We’ve got a little wiggle room.”
He turned left at the next light, heading for the food district.
No, this wasn’t stalling.
Or maybe it was.
But it might also be the last pocket of quiet they’d have before everything became very real.
The manor had changed a little since Dick was last here—just a week ago. There were more couches in the living room now, extra blankets draped across the backs of chairs, and the dining room was already set with silverware, plates, and elegant catering trays. Alfred may have been gone, but Bruce still hired the same catering service he’d used for the past fifteen years—handpicked by Alfred himself.
The bedrooms looked refreshed. New sheets. A general air of anticipation, like the house was bracing for the arrival of a large, extended family.
He knew Selina would come. Jason, Tim, Damian, Stephanie, Cass—even Duke. But the others were uncertain. Kate, Harper… others who’d drifted in and out of orbit. It was always tricky, these gatherings. Complicated, maybe too much sometimes. Even the Kents had been invited—they were practically family by now—but everything was still up in the air. Too much is still undecided.
Dick stood in his old bedroom, now shared again, while Kory sat on the edge of the bed. Bruce had stepped away to take a call from the company—he’d be joining them soon.
Kory looked around, taking in the room that was once so familiar. The colors were still blue and black, but the space had changed. No more old comics on the shelves—just files on cases and investigations. A few trophies from his time as a gymnastics teacher, and others from missions. Photos lined the shelves: younger Titans, older now. A picture of John and Mary still sat on the dresser, a little faded, but untouched. The room had matured—like Dick himself—but the energy, the feeling… it was still him.
She glanced toward Dick as he finished unpacking and gave him a playful smile.
“Are we sleeping in your childhood bed?” she teased, head tilted.
Dick raised a brow and shook his head, cheeks flushing slightly.
“No, no… I changed it years ago, okay?”
Kory laughed gently and lowered herself onto the bed. She wasn’t tired, but it felt good to sit.
“I was only joking, Richard. You don’t need to blush. Although I’ll admit, it’s kind of adorable.”
Dick let out a soft sigh. He was thirty-four, and somehow Kory could still make him feel like he was seventeen again. Ridiculous. And sweet.
He sat beside her, looking around the room.
“If you’d rather, we could stay in a different room. This place has like… twenty of them. Bruce would be thrilled if we used more than two.”
Kory quickly shook her head.
“No, no… It’s kind of endearing. And honestly… I feel comfortable here.”
She paused. “Besides, I have a feeling most of the rooms will be occupied soon. It’s still a little surreal how many are coming.”
Dick nodded.
“It is, but it’s good. The family’s grown, in its strange way.”
He glanced toward her belly, still barely noticeable. But her hand had found its way there again, absentmindedly resting over it.
“They all deserve to know. Even if… part of me wishes it could just be the three of us for a while.”
He smiled softly. “That said, it’s going to be hard to keep it secret much longer. Especially with all your new habits.”
Kory blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, mock-offended.
Dick grinned, holding up a hand.
“Wait—you haven’t noticed? During that fight in New York, you started shielding your belly, not your head. When you’re bored, you rub it. You’ve been going to bed earlier—don’t blame the sun. And the eating…” he raised his brows. “Kory, I’ve never seen you snack this much. And don’t even get me started on that Titans meeting where you were nodding off halfway through.”
Kory stared at him, stunned.
A small “oh” escaped her lips.
Tamaranean pregnancies weren’t like human ones. They were supposed to make a woman stronger, not weaker. The sun fueled her body. She was in control of her emotions, and she didn’t need sleep…
But lately? She’d been exhausted. Hungry. Emotional.
She cried over a nature documentary last week. Something wasn’t adding up. Maybe it was the human DNA—maybe Mar’i, being half-Earthling, was changing things.
“You noticed all that?” she asked, surprised.
Dick nodded.
“Kory, it’s adorable. But if I’ve caught on, Garfield’s going to figure it out next, and Donna? She’ll know the moment she walks in the door.”
He wasn’t dumb. Hormones were hormones, no matter the planet.
Kory blinked again, trying to process it.
“I hadn’t realized… On Tamaran, pregnancy strengthens us. It doesn’t exhaust us. We don’t get emotional. We don’t sleep more—we need less.”
She paused, frowning. “But now I feel tired all the time. I get emotional… I don’t understand.”
Dick tilted his head, amused.
“Hate to break it to you, love… but you're carrying a half-human baby. That means Grayson DNA. And we Graysons love sleep. And we move a lot.”
Kory let out a soft laugh and nudged him in the shoulder, playfully.
Just then, a knock came at the door.
They both stood at the same time. Bruce was at the threshold, a faint smile on his face.
For a second, Dick felt a strange pang of nostalgia—like he was a teenager again, caught in his room with his girlfriend. But Bruce wasn’t young anymore. The man before him was older, a little softer, a little more at peace with life.
He stepped forward and gave Dick a firm hug and handshake. Then, to Kory, a formal yet respectful nod.
“My congratulations, Koriand’r,” Bruce said, measured and warm. “Truly—from the bottom of my heart.”
Kory offered a small smile in return.
Dick glanced between them. The air felt slightly tense—not from hostility, but from history. Kory and Bruce had never been particularly close, never unfriendly either, but theirs was a bond built on shared care for the same person more than mutual familiarity.
“Thank you, Bruce,” Kory replied. “It was unexpected, but we’re… embracing it with open arms.”
Dick nodded quietly.
“I trust my son is being attentive? Giving you everything you need?” Bruce asked.
“No need to worry,” Kory answered, calm and kind. “Dick’s been a wonderful partner. He’s helping with everything I need.”
Dick grinned, clearly pleased.
“Bruce, I swear I do everything I can… but she still insists on doing things herself.”
He was about to continue when his phone buzzed.
Dick checked the screen, expression shifting.
“It’s Jason. Something happened with his bike.”
He read the message quickly and looked at Kory with concern.
“I think I should go talk to him—he doesn’t usually text unless it’s urgent.”
Kory raised her hands, calming him.
“I’m fine. Go.”
Dick nodded and turned toward the door, pausing only to throw one last remark over his shoulder.
“Try not to kill each other.”
Kory and Bruce both chuckled.
Bruce turned to her, tone soft but respectful.
“Miss Koriand’r… would you care for a conversation? I’d like to see how things are, if that’s alright with you.”
Kory let out a soft sigh and nodded.
“I would like that, Mr. Wayne,” she replied, matching Bruce’s reserved tone.
With that, the two headed toward the study. Maybe, after all this time, it was time to talk — properly talk — especially with Mar’i now part of their lives. Bruce Wayne wanted to see his granddaughter grow, to be part of her world, and that meant having a real relationship with Koriand’r. He would speak as the adult he was. And Kory had always known this conversation needed to happen. If she wanted her daughter to have a family, to feel whole, this was a necessary step. She couldn’t allow things to stay stiff and formal between them — not if she was going to be in the Wayne family for good.
The study had changed.
It was warmer now, cozier. The walls were lined with photos — family, missions, certificates, old school pictures, snapshots of Selina, Alfred, even the pets (who, by now, were probably curled up asleep in the living room). The fireplace crackled gently, casting an amber glow that softened the shadows. It didn’t feel like the lair of Batman anymore. It felt like a home.
Kory looked around and couldn’t help but want this—not for herself, but for Mar’i. A big, loving family. A backyard to run through. A treehouse to climb. Happy memories like the ones Dick had once described, before everything got complicated. Her memories of Tamaran were fading — blurred by war, loss, and exile — but she wanted Mar’i to have something better. She would have aunts, uncles, people who loved her fiercely. And yes, as cliché as it sounded, Kory truly wanted Mar’i to grow up knowing Bruce Wayne as her grandfather. And from how Bruce had reacted when Dick told him the news, Kory could see it — the man was genuinely happy.
A ginger cat padded into the study, completely at ease. It brushed against Kory’s legs, received a gentle scratch behind the ears, then trotted to a corner where a plush pet bed waited. The domesticity of it all was strange, but comforting.
Kory and Bruce sat down, a polished oak table between them. Still, the space felt charged.
Bruce was the first to speak, voice calm but firm. “So… Miss Koriand’r. I suppose it’s time we talked, don’t you think?”
There was respect in his tone. He wasn’t pretending. He’d seen her fight, seen her lead, seen her survive. She wasn’t just “Dick’s ex” — she was a warrior, and a woman who had earned her place.
“Honestly, Bruce…” Kory leaned forward slightly. “We’ve never really had a proper conversation. Not even back when Dick and I were together.”
She paused, thoughtful. “And to be honest… my opinion of you wasn’t great. Especially when I saw how you treated Dick. Or Jason.” Her tone wasn’t accusatory — just honest. “I think that impression softened a little with time. But it never really disappeared. Now that we’re going to be family… I think we should clear the air.”
Bruce nodded slowly. “You’re right. I… understand that very well. Especially considering how I behaved. With them. With all of them.”
He didn’t defend himself. He didn’t offer excuses. He just… acknowledged it.
“I was wrong. And I’m still trying to change that. Slowly.”
Kory crossed her arms, not out of defensiveness, but certainty. “I don’t want my daughter growing up in a family built on silence and grudges,” she said plainly. “Mar’i deserves peace. Richard and I will do everything we can to give her that. But we’ll need your help too. As her grandfather.”
At the word, something flickered in Bruce’s eyes — barely perceptible, but real.
“I’ll also be speaking with Jason,” Kory added. “Well, Richard will, more likely. We want the whole family on the same page. Mar’i can’t grow up watching people she loves tear each other apart. That cycle needs to end with us. Do you understand that, Mr. Wayne?”
“I do,” Bruce said softly.
He hesitated for a moment, then said her name with rare gentleness. “Koriand’r… I know we may never be close. You’ve seen sides of me I’m not proud of. But I appreciate you giving me this chance. To be part of her life.”
He swallowed, emotions barely held in check. “I hope we can move forward — for the sake of the family.”
Kory gave a small, honest nod.
Bruce remembered more than he let on. He remembered her joy. Her strength. Her loyalty to the Titans. Maybe in another life, he could have been a better version of himself — the kind who made dad jokes and showed her baby pictures of Dick just to embarrass him. But he hadn’t been that man. He’d been cold. Paranoid. Harsh. Especially when Dick left. Especially when Jason died.
“I want her to feel safe here,” Kory continued. “I don’t want her to feel like being a metahuman makes her a problem. I don’t want her afraid to visit Gotham because her powers make her ‘a risk.’”
“There won’t be a problem,” Bruce said immediately, shaking his head. “Not with me.”
“Good,” Kory said, holding his gaze. “Because I also want you to fix things with your children. I know that’s not easy. I know there’s history. But no more missions that fake your son’s death. No more months — years — without speaking. No more sending Dick off to almost die, or making his siblings think he’s gone for good. That’s not fair. Not to any of you.”
Bruce exhaled slowly. Then nodded.
“I understand, Miss Koriand’r.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Right,” he corrected. “Kory.”
There was a pause. And then:
“Do you think we can drop the formalities now?” Bruce asked.
“I’d like that,” Kory said, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“I think we might be able to make this work,” Bruce said, rising from his seat. Families should talk more. Share more.”
He reached for a folder on a nearby shelf and handed it to her.
“This should’ve gone to Dick directly, but… it didn’t feel right. Not with something like this.”
Kory frowned, then opened it. Her eyes widened slightly, though she quickly masked the expression.
“Bruce… this is—”
“A trust,” he said simply. “For Mar’i. Shares in the company. A significant portion of the inheritance. Everything she’ll need for her future.”
Kory exhaled, moved despite herself. “I’ll talk to Richard once we tell the others.”
Bruce nodded. “Thank you. For letting me be part of her life.”
Kory smiled — and this time, it was genuine.
“She’s going to be loved, Bruce. More than you can imagine.”
And for once, Bruce didn’t doubt it.
It was a few hours later when Kory returned to the bedroom, catching the tail end of Dick’s conversation with Jason. She didn’t interrupt—just let herself collapse gently onto the bed, exhaustion and reflection weighing down her movements.
She had spoken with Bruce earlier—about the trust fund, about the medbay on the Watchtower, even the potential logistics of the birth. Just small things, future things, the kinds of questions she hadn't realized were already forming in her mind.
At her feet, one of Damian’s dogs—a regal German Shepherd named Caesar—curled up and rested his head on her ankle. Kory reached down absentmindedly to stroke his fur, her eyes still on Dick as he closed his comm and joined her on the bed a few moments later.
"Did it go well with Bruce?" he asked softly, eyes scanning her face.
She nodded. "Yes. We're… working through things. Slowly, but we are. I think I’ll have something to show you later, but for now, let’s just call it a peaceful limbo." She smiled faintly. "And you? Will you talk to Jason?"
Dick nodded. “I will. Eventually. It won’t be easy, but I owe it to him. To all of them. I think… I need to speak to everyone in my way.”
Kory hummed in agreement, brushing her fingers over his wrist.
“I don’t expect them to be around twenty-four-seven,” he continued. “But I want them to be around. No more disappearing for months on end. No more fighting until we burn out. I want—” he paused, letting out a slow breath, “—a normal family. Or at least... whatever normal means for us.”
He placed his hand gently over her stomach, grounding himself there.
"You know," he added, his voice dipping into amusement, "once this happens, there’s no going back. We're going to have questions, diapers, and a very long list of babysitters."
Kory turned to him, her mind half-lost in the gentle thrum of emotion she could already sense from Mar’i. That quiet, inexplicable bond. She reached up to caress his cheek. "You're such an idiot sometimes, you know? Why so many babysitters?"
He grinned. “So we can have our time. Have you seen babies? Did you see Wally and Linda after the twins? They're barely human now.”
She laughed—an honest, unfiltered sound. “Richard, please—”
And then she gasped, her hand flying to her abdomen. A flutter. Not painful—gentle. Real.
Immediately, she guided Dick’s hand to where she felt it.
His eyes widened. So did hers.
There was a beat of stillness. Then joy.
“She knows,” Dick said, voice a little hoarse, eyes impossibly bright. “She knows she's about to meet the world.”
Kory only shook her head and exhaled, warmth still fluttering under her palm. The presence of their child was overwhelming in the best way.
All she could do was hope that things would be okay.
They knew chaos was about to begin when the unmistakable sound of motorcycles and engines roared outside the manor gates.
Dick stood and turned to her, one hand already on the doorknob. He glanced back with a boyish smile. “So… who’s telling them?”
Kory considered it, lips quirking into a grin. “Let’s see how things go.”
Maybe that was the point all along. To stop trying to control every twist and turn. Perhaps the path ahead would surprise them— but only if they let it.