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Chapter Text

Batman heard the argument louder and clearer the closer he crept through the vents. There had been a breakout at Arkham Asylum earlier in the evening, several high priority Rogues, including The Joker, had made their escape along with dozens of other patients.

The small fry were easy to track down, half of them barely made it out of the building. The other half, they didn’t have enough power to claim a base, not unless they latched on as a grunt for one of the bigger names. So they hid in alleys and “in plain sight”. With Oracle’s assistance, the majority were recaptured in only a couple of hours.

The real problems were those who had a series of bases available to them – usually abandoned buildings, or places in disrepair that belonged to an alias of theirs on paper. His first stop had been to the decaying amusement park that Joker was known to frequent; he wasn’t there this time, however. He tried a few more places the clown usually resorted to, but no luck (he theorized Joker may be intruding on another Rogue’s ‘territory’ for a while, if not outright taking it over).

Deciding to expand his search from Joker’s preferences, he still had a number of possible locations he could try. This one in particular had been recommended by Oracle after she flagged a call to the GCPD; a witness claimed to have seen someone green skulking around, a possibility for Poison Ivy if she actually saw accurately.

As he got close enough to properly hear the argument-

“We’ve clearly been here much longer than you have, the claim is in our favor!”

“Pretty sure we would have heard you two yammering long before now.”

“Not if you weren’t here for it!”

-he could identify Harley and Scarecrow’s voices, and the repeated use of ‘we’ most likely meant Ivy (the likelihood doubled, knowing she has been a duo with Harley for a while now) as well, and at least one other person.

“I’m a probability, a gamble, a once in a lifetime opportunity, and something you don’t have right now. What am I?”

And Riddler as well.

That was at least 4 escapees. Sending them all back would be a great chunk of the missing patients. He couldn’t let this chance (hm Riddler would have been ecstatic to hear that tie in) get away.

He uncrewed the vent and dropped down, taking a moment to feel empowered by the shock and weariness his presence brought, as it halted the fighting mid-word.

What he had not been expecting though, was for both Scarecrow and Poison Ivy to launch projectiles, and at the same time. How had they both had time to concoct new experiments in the few hours they’ve been out of Arkham? – He only had a split second to wonder, before both vessels burst, covering him in liquid and burning his lungs with gas.

“BATMAN?!” Oracle’s voice rang in his ear before his vision started to swim.

The breakout at Arkham had gone beautifully. Edward Nygma had made his escape with Jonathan Crane. The two had planned and tested for weeks before the big night, and had decided to continue working together after the fact.

They arrived in an abandoned factory. There was nothing special about it, except for being in a slightly less state of decay than others in the area (usually from previous Rogues hiding there).

It had been empty as far as He and Jonanthan had seen, so they of course had settled in. Apparently at some point, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy had also stumbled across the place and deemed it their base as well.

Instead of agreeing to share the space, somehow an argument broke out (if he had to go back and review the conversation, he would say it was mainly Harley’s fault, she certainly learned how to ruffle feathers from her ex). Now both sides were trying to convince the other why they needed the space more/showing off their plan on how to deal with Batman.

“This was my brilliant idea,” Ed couldn’t help but preen. It wasn’t his usual style, but he was proud of realizing its potential.

“The base of Scarecrow’s Fear Toxin causes hallucinations and mental suggestions, but before it’s able to convince the afflicted to see their fear, they are able to be convinced of any number of scenarios. Which I have commissioned Jonathan to create a very specific circumstance.”

“I’m assuming you’re going to keep Batman thinking there are always new clues he can’t fit in to the actual riddle,” Ivy said rolling her eyes.

“No, what fun would that be?” Edward asked, genuinely not understanding the appeal. The whole point was to play a game with Batman, not lead him on a wild goose chase with an illogical puzzle (that would be cheating, and he could do that just fine on his own if we wanted to).

“No, this formula would convince The Bat that we’re innocent every time he comes to either of us as the conclusion. His mind will either tell him that we’re innocent civilians, or that the clues don’t match to us, whatever scenario is brain can conjure to make sense of it.”

“That sounds… oddly effective for you. How would that work for your game though,” Ivy actually sounded a bit curious.

“The game would be him having to fight his own mind telling him he’s wrong. I’ll be leaving him clues of course, each answer leading back to me, but he’ll have to overcome himself to find the truth.”

He was going to have so much fun with this. Batman’s frustration sounded AMAZING. He wondered how long it’d take him to solve, if ever. Should he put a time limit? Reveal the trick at the end? Or would it be more fun to just keep it going on and on?

“Meanwhile, I will be using the opportunity to continue conducting my fear experiments in peace.” Scarecrow added, taking out a spherical object. “Whether he solves it or not, him playing with Riddler will still buy me plenty of time to get things done.”

“Well WE have a great idea too!” Harley yelled in excitement and competition. “Tell ‘em Ives!”

Ivy rolled her eyes but had a small smirk at her girlfriend’s over-the-top enthusiasm.

“We actually had a similar idea, but we don’t need Batman to not know who we are, we just need him to believe he’s in service to us.” Ivy said, also producing a small vial of what was most likely concentrated plant serums.

“Our very own body guard!” Harley cheered.

“Ah a Zombified grunt then, rather unoriginal, don’t you think?” Riddler teased. And not fun at all.

“Please,” Ivy hissed. “Nothing as lowly as that. He’ll be mostly in his right mind, just convinced that we’re under his protection. If I wanted something that could only follow the most basic commands, I’d create more plant-people… or use a senator, no one would be able to tell the difference anyway.”

“This still leaves the issue of deciding who gets the base,” Scarecrow said.

“I hate to agree with you, but.” Ivy shrugs, “I suppose we could always just fight for it.”

Poison Ivy’s eyes glowed green, the plants she’d brought with her already twitching in anticipation, while Harley picked up a broken pipe. Ed took a step back, under no illusions that he wasn’t outclassed physically. He didn’t even have his cane at the moment. Jonathan, apparently sharing his sentiment (and notice of the lack of extra fear gas samples around), tried to continue deciding with words.

“We’ve clearly been here much longer than you have, the claim is in our favor!” He yelled

“Pretty sure we would have heard you two yammering long before now,” Harley said mockingly.

“Not if you weren’t here for it!”

Well, Ed couldn’t let Jonathan battle in words alone.

“I’m a probability, a gamble, a once in a lifetime opportunity, and something you don’t have right now. What am I?”

“Ugh, already starting with the riddles,” Harley groaned.

“I’m trying to smack talk you!”

Before anyone could say anything else, the slam of a vent lid falling to the floor had them all turning their heads. And from the shadows emerged Batman, somehow having tracked them down already (Ed briefly noted that this was probably a new record for him, and fought the urge to sulk).

In an act of desperation that Ed didn’t really blame Jon for – they had nothing else on them after all – Scarecrow threw the capsule of untested toxin towards Batman. More surprisingly however, was that Ivy followed his example (unlike her to make such a rash decision, perhaps she was more thrown off balance than she seemed, that or Harley was really starting to influence her).

Batman must not have been expecting such a rash reaction either, especially as the two collided and the hero got hit with a double dose.

The Bat dropped to the ground, coughing. Nobody moved.

It felt like an eternity waiting for the man to stand back up. He seemed unsteady on his feet, swaying. …Possibly brain damaged? Oh boy.

“What did your gas do to Batsy?” Harley accused.

“My gas?! It was your concoction that-”

The fighting started up again. Edward only half paid attention. Batman was the more interesting focus right now. The man was steadily gaining his bearings, and there were two possibilities as far as he was concerned: either he was under one, or maybe somehow both, of their influences; or the two effects somehow canceled each other out. He let the others continue their petty squabbling, if they were too distracted to make their escape, he would gladly let them take the fall.

Batman’s intense gaze fell on him and he froze, preparing to run as soon as the man reached for his utility belt.

His gaze was odd though; it wasn’t glaring, nor was it vacant. It was almost like how some of the doctors at Arkham looked at him – pity, but softer?

Batman took a confusingly cautious step towards him, and Riddler took a reactionary step back. Batman paused again before, even stranger, crouching down slightly (not dramatically so, he wasn’t that much shorter!) to look him in the eyes. Yet again, there was no anger or accusation there.

“Hello little one.”

That line caused Edward to freeze in place, because what the hell? Not only was that Not something said to The Riddler, or Edward, or any random adult (unless you were into that), but it also didn’t fit with either of the intended formulas’ effects.

Ed regained movement after a paralyzing moment and started to back away.

“Wait, come back, it’s dangerous!”

Nope, that was it he was done.

He turned around intent on fleeing (a half formed word play featuring the “Fleance” pun from Macbeth popped into his head as he did so, he had to force the thought away), but it must have delayed him a second too long.

He felt a sturdy arm around his middle, halting him completely. He let out a yelp as he was lifted off the ground. He closed his eyes, anticipating being slammed to the ground and hand cuffed.

He wasn’t though.

Once he was in Batman’s arms, he was lifted even higher and set on the man’s hip, legs instinctively wrapping around him to help balance. He stared at Batman in bewilderment, he had absolutely no idea why this was happening. Maybe it was brain damage?!

He tried to push away, legs kicking and arms straining against his chest. The man didn’t budge though, instead starting to bounce him slightly as he shushed him. Ed’s face went red at being treated like a child, and he went limp in defeat. At least it’s not the worst hold I’ve been stuck in.

The other three at that point were staring in wide-eyed confusion towards him and Batman, their argument put on hold, in the face of trying to figure out what exactly was happening.

Edward heard Batman’s earpiece go off, but couldn’t hear the actual message.

“That’s fine Oracle, I could use some help actually.”

This made the Rogues look at each other in confusion, what did he mean by that? It was only the four of them with half of them being down a weapon, this should be a cakewalk for Batman.

“Sorry, I know this must be scary right now,” Batman said to the group. “But we’re gonna find a way to fix this.”

It was unclear exactly what Batman thought needed to be fixed. Ed wondered if Jon slipped in some regular Fear Toxin in (he had wanted to add some to the new formula, something to cause “a little anxiety” he had said), well if he had, look at what a bad idea that had been!

“Boy we really messed him up, huh?”

Harley’s comment started up the back and forth again. Somehow. Edward made a mental note to never work with these three in the same vicinity ever again.

Batman sighed with all the annoyance Ed felt in the moment. Never did he think he and Bats would find kinship like this.

Batman looked like he was trying to decide whether or not he should intervene, when the rumbling of vehicles drew closer, Batman’s presumed help, he guessed. (Unlikely to be anyone else, it certainly wasn’t the GCPD come to check out a noise complaint.)

Kicking down the door, in came Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin, all of whom also stared at the scene in naked confusion:

Batman with all four Rogues still technically loose, one held on his hip like a toddler, while the other three bickered in the background.

“Good timing,” Batman said, completely ignoring the chaos, taking out a device and clicking the homing button. After a few seconds the Batmobile came screeching to a halt outside the now open entrance.

He ignored the stares as he started walking, still carrying Riddler unrestrained, and not seeming to find anything abnormal about it.

“Could you grab the others?” 

“Uh, B, what’s going on?” Nightwing asked, cautiously.

Batman finally turned to face them, “I thought Oracle explained things.”

“Uh, not really,” Nightwing said awkwardly. “She mentioned experimental chemicals mixing, and you being ‘momentarily’ effected.”

Batman just hummed. “That is accurate, but it also seems that whatever that combination did turned Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Scarecrow and Riddler into children.”

There was dead silence as both sides processed that.

Ed wasn’t actually surprised at the statement, it perfectly aligned with how Bats was treating them, but he was still confused on why it was happening in the first place.

“Okaaaay,” Nightwing sighed. “B, I think we need to get you checked over, because that’s not what happened here.”

“Nightwing, I witnessed it myself, they really are these kids.”

“That is not what I meant,” Dick muttered.

“Okay, Batman,” Red Robin tried next. “Situation Code is either Waking Dream or Magicians Hat.”

Bruce just shook his head, “I don’t think it was magically influenced, not when the chemicals were present.”

“…Okay, he’s not registering what we’re saying,” Red Robin sounded completely done.

“Father, you have been compromised,” Robin finally said. (Nightwing whispered a warning about code names.) “Nightwing and Red Robin are correct, you are not seeing the world accurately due to Magical or Chemical influence.”

“That is the correct terminology for those codes, you are correct, Robin.”

“It’s no use Demon,” Red Robin said rubbing his temples. “Whatever this is, it’s effecting his how he perceives the world, and that includes us trying to reason with him.”

Nightwing turned to the other Rogues, “what kind of sick plan was this?”

“We didn’t plan on this!”

“It was an accident!”

“Neither compound was supposed to do anything like this.”

As the other three verbally fought for their lives, Ed continued to be carried by an oblivious Batman towards the Batmobile. Batman opened the back seat, humming in thought before clicking a button which caused another seatbelt to pop out.

He set Edward in gently and buckled the two seat belts together using an extra piece, placing it snugly over his chest area. He then popped out a third strap, this one lower, and belted it across his lap, making sure it was secure enough as well.

Ed pouted dramatically at the excessiveness, only appeased when he saw Bats pulling out similar looking extra straps for the others.

Eventually, the others were herded out looking subdued, he assumed threats were made for their cooperation on this. (It made him feel better for not really having a choice, apparently.)

“Alright, so it was a freak accident,” Red Robin confirmed.

“Absolutely.”

“100%”

“Yup.”

“Okay,” Nightwing said, thinking. “Well, if it’s anything like magic’s effect on the mind, we’re gonna need to play along until it either wears off or an antidote is made.”

“Right, everyone into the car!” Red called.

“Exactly what makes you think we’ll go along with this?” Ivy asked, more than ready to walk away and not deal with any of this, or fight to do so.

“I mean, yeah,” Harley agreed. “So it didn’t work out quite as we were hoping, it’s still a great opportunity for us!”

Scarecrow seemed to perk up at that thought.

“Yeah it seems like a good idea, until you realize B thinks you’re kids,” Nightwing responded. “And probably pretty small kids from the way he’s treating Riddler. Do you really think Batman would just let a couple of lost children roam Gotham if he could help it? No, he’d be on your tail from the moment he realized you left. And wouldn’t it just be so embarrassing for you if he caught up to you and started treating you like small children in public?”

“Besides,” Red Robin added. “I assume we’d need to analyze the hybrid compound and synthesize an antidote, rather than wait for it to wear off. We currently have a stable lab for it, and you three don’t… especially if you were constantly on the run.”

“If I have to physically drag you to the cave, I will,” was the only thing Robin said.

The three remaining Rogues looked at each other, waiting for someone to make a decision. It was a few tense moments before Harley sighed loudly, breaking off from the group towards the Bats and lamenting about them making it worth her while.

“I know you guys got money, those gadgets don’t come cheap. I expect to be treated properly if we’re playing nice like this.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be well taken care of,” Nightwing said rolling his eyes dramatically.

Batman buckled them all in with the extra straps, but seemed to fuss over Edward and Jonathan the most, much to their annoyance.

“B, they’ll be fine,” Nightwing said. “They’re as secure as they can get without you actually having car seats.”

“I know,” Batman conceded. “But I’ll have to come up with a better solution in case anything like this is ever needed again.”

He finally shut the door and began steering the vehicle back to The Cave, taking a safer route to avoid any sharp turns, with the rest of the Bats circling to help keep any traffic clear of them.  

“Speaking of,” Red Robin cut in, his voice now coming from the car speaker. “How old would you say each one is?”

He clocked that for whatever reason he seemed to see Scarecrow and Riddler as either younger or smaller than Ivy and Harley, just going by the way B was extra concerned by how they were strapped in.

Batman looked towards Harley and Ivy on the rearview mirror.

“Either of you want to say how old you are?”

Obviously that wasn’t going to work. So Ivy just looked away uncomfortably, while Harley jokingly said, “you can’t just ask a girl her age Batsy.”

Unsure of exactly what Batman heard, the man just muttered about them being shy before giving his own estimates.

“Well, I would say Harley looks to be about 4 or 5.”

Said woman went wide eyed, and Ivy whipped her head back around.

“Pamela, I would say maybe a little older, like 6.”

The red head blinked at that, a bit happy to presumably be the ‘oldest’ (which was a weird thought since Crane had a few years on her. She wasn’t sure about Nygma).

“Jonathan looks to be a little younger than the girls, maybe three.”

Scarecrow looked completely offended and Harley cackled at his reaction. Ivy also had a small, amused smile.

“And Eddie looks to be under 2 still, maybe a year and a half? I’d estimate about 18 months.”

The shocked and affronted look on Riddler’s face was twice as theatric as Crane’s and had more than one person chuckling.

“But- But I can talk! You can understand me, right? I’m not a baby!”

“I know Eddie, you talk very well for your age. You’re such a smart little boy. Good job.”

Ed felt his face burn, especially after the renewed laughter of his supposed colleagues; more like traitors. He crossed his arms and huffed.

What the hell made Batman think he was a toddler?! He was The Riddler, his entire compulsion was word puzzles, battles of intellect. How could he associate that with infancy!

The rest of the car ride consisted of whispered conversations between the 4 ‘kids’ (“Man, why does Ives get to be the oldest?” “Exactly, it should be me, I actually am.” “What do you have to complain about, he thinks I’m an infant.” “Well-” “Shut it, Crane.”) and various questions from Nightwing, Robin, and Red Robin to Batman, trying to gauge more of his mental state.

“I’ve taken the liberty of calling The League, and asking for a magic user’s assistance. Preferably Zatanna’s,” Oracle cuts in. “At best, she’s able to reverse this. If not, then it’s still a good idea to have her come and do something to help conceal your identities.”

“Oh that’s a great idea,” Nightwing’s voice came next. “We don’t know how long y- this’ll last, and they can’t be confined to just The Cave for days. We’ll need some insurance. Uh you know, for when ‘they’re’ back to normal.”

“It would make it a lot less taxing,” Red Robin agreed. “And she’s done it before; she’ll create a shield of our identities in their heads.”

“You think that will be safe for them?” Batman asked concerned. “Magic on the mind can be damaging, especially on children.”

“I already asked, it will be fine short term,” Oracle assured him. “Once things are back to normal it can be removed.”

Ed frowned at the idea of having something placed in his mind, magic or not; he didn’t want anything messing with his head further, but it wasn’t like they had a choice.

They finally arrived at the Batcave, Oracle informing them that Zatanna was on her way. In the meantime, Batman helped them out of the car, starting with Ivy first, instructing the other three to keep an eye on them as he got them out.

Next he released Harley, then Jon, and finally Ed. He didn’t put Edward down though, much to his continued exasperation.

They all gazed around the cave in interest, especially at Batman’s collection of ‘trophies’ from his Rogues. Harley started to walk over to get a look at something, when she was yanked back by Nightwing.

She didn’t have time to argue more than a “hey!” before a man dressed as a butler was announcing Zatanna’s arrival. The butler looked at the scene in confusion but didn’t say anything. He just walked over to the side and started whispering to Red Robin, no doubt asking just what the hell was going on.

“Hey Bats,” Zatanna greeted. “I heard there’s a bit of a situation?”

Batman started to explain what he saw from his altered point of view: that he was about to apprehend the four Arkham escapees when some sort of chemical reaction took place. That his vision was obscured by the after-effects and when he was finally able to see again, the four were de-aged into children.

Zatanna, looking unsurprised (assumingly briefed by Oracle) just nodded and asked to be able to examine everyone who was at the scene, including Batman.

“You may not feel effected, but you never know, you could have lost a few years under that cowl.”

Batman just hummed in disbelief, but gave the go ahead.

Zatanna asked for the three birds to step aside and for Batman to set the ‘child’ down. With everyone separated but in a semicircle, she cast her spell.

She focused it mainly on her fellow League member, but also examined the Rogues just in case. She was able to confirm that Bruce was the only one effected.

She cast a second spell to get as much detail on the changes to his mental state as she could –the information flooded her mind, how his brain was processing things, what the set circumstances were, and how the Toxin and pheromone solution were combining to create it. It was all fascinating, even if she could only understand the gist of reading it since it wasn’t actually magic-related.

That also meant she wouldn’t be able to reverse it. If she tried, even just temporarily so that a solution could be reached, two influences on the brain may cause more damage than just the one (three technically).

She stopped the spell and focused back on her expectant audience.

“Well, it’s definitely biochemical related, and not magic. I wouldn’t recommend using magic to try to fix it either, it could cause more complications than intended.”

The Bats nodded, probably figuring that would be the case.

“From what I could gather, it’s a biological change in brain chemistry, so it has no time limit. You would need something to reverse it back to normal functions.”

She was trying to keep it vague while still explaining what she found, giving pointed looks to the Bat Family to emphasize this. His real world processing was being effected, but she didn’t know the extent and didn’t want to cause any mental damage.

Nightwing gave her a look of understanding, taking over.

“Thanks for examining them, Z. Would you mind casting that identity shield thing? I have a feeling they’re gonna be here for a few days. Don’t need them spilling our secrets once everything is back to normal.”

“Of course,” she said, before turning to Batman. “B, this is going to take me a few minutes if you wanna go change. You have… remnants of the incident all over your suit.”

Bats looked down, seeming to realize the state of his costume.

“Go ahead, B. They’ll be fine for ten minutes,” Red Robin said.

Batman nodded in thanks before walking out of sight. As soon as he was gone, Zatanna cast a spell for privacy as she explained her findings in more detail.

 “Alright, so what I said stands, but I’m sure you all knew that,” she said.

Sounds of agreement echoed back at her.

“He seems to be seeing the four of you as children as a way to fill the requirements of both mind-altering drugs. The basic gist is that one side is emphasizing ‘protection’, and the other is ‘innocence’, leaving his mind to come up with a scenario to fill in the blanks.”

“It doesn’t really make sense though,” Scarecrow muttered. “It does, but it also doesn’t. Why not just think we’re random civilians who need, I don’t know, Mob protection or something? That could fill the requirements, or any number of situations could.”

Zatanna shrugged.

“I don’t know why his mind went with this over literally anything else, maybe he was influenced by something else subconsciously. Maybe he associated ‘innocent’ more with child-like qualities instead of just being not guilty. Who knows. But that’s how he’s processing it.”

“And if we sit him down and tell him what’s really happening?” Red Robin asked.  

“If you could even get over the mental block that’s put on him,” Z emphasized, “but even if you could… it might not be the best idea. Like I said his brain chemistry has been altered, if you try to tell him that what he’s perceiving as reality is wrong, without an immediate way to fix it, it could mentally break him.”

She looked at Crane who looked thoughtful at the idea of ‘breaking the Bat’.

“And do you really want a mentally broken Batman running around this city?”

More than once person, hero and villain, winced at the thought.

“It’d be best to play along until an antidote is made.”

Several groans filled the room, and she laughed at the dramatics.

“What would happen if I told him a riddle?” Edward couldn’t help but ask.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to resist, they were both a compulsion and an enjoyment. He didn’t want to ruin Batman’s mind (not like this, there’d be no fun in it) but he literally wouldn’t be able to help it.

“My guess, based on how this is effecting him, a few things could happen: he could either miss the riddle completely, interpreting it as something else, or maybe just babytalk in your case.” She said, smiling at his huff of irritation. “Or he could hear it and understand, it but not realize that it should be above a small child’s skill level. It could even be some combination of the two. But either way, I wouldn’t worry about it. It wouldn’t be enough to break him.”

A few more questions were tossed around before Zatanna said she’d need to put the shields up before Bats came back.

“Better extend it to any of the other members that drop by,” Nightwing said. “You know we have a full house when there’s drama.”

“On it,” Z laughed, reciting the new spell.

Ed thought it’d feel like a weight in his skull, heavy and noticeable. But surprisingly he didn’t feel anything. He tried to think of any of his usual possibilities for The Batman’s identity, but none of them felt less or more possible than before… he thought? Hmm. How would he even be able to tell?

He didn’t have any more time to think on it, Bats came back, this time in only his cowl and some lounge pants.

“They’re secure?”

“Golden, Bruce,” Zatanna assured.

“Code names while the mask is still on,” he said.

“Verbal reassurance for emphasis that the spell worked, B” she bantered.

He sighed, but removed the mask.

Edward felt like he should recognize this man, but was coming up blank. Ugh, that was so frustrating! He didn’t know if that was actually the case, or if he only thinks he should recognize him because the mask was finally off! How disappointing would it be if Batman was just some random guy, after all. He hated magic.

“Alright, I’m sure these kids are starving. Alfred, do we have any leftovers we can heat up for them?”

“Of course, sir.”

With that, Batman – Bruce, apparently – started to usher everyone upstairs. Ed was picked up again, he repressed a sigh, but didn’t fight it. Bruce tried to take Jonathan’s hand, but the man was not having it, scowling and slapping it away.

Bats muttered something about him being grumpy, causing the other to blush and Harley to start giggling. She apparently decided to embrace her role, grabbing Bruce’s hand and chatting about the décor, asking inane questions while he smiled indulgently. (It was way too strange to see Batman smile.)

The actual Batkids followed up behind him, Nightwing saying something about “updating Hood” on the situation, in case backup was needed.

As the entranced opened up into what was clearly a very wealthy person’s house, meaning Batman’s identity had to be well known, Edward was ready to outmaneuver this spell to uncover it or die trying.

Chapter Text

Bruce’s POV

Bruce led the kids into the dining room, getting the older three set up on the chairs. Fortunately they seemed to reach the tabletop alright and didn’t need much assistance from any extra seat cushions. He had been worried at the lack of child-sized utensils, but they appeared to be doing alright with the normal silverware. Still, it’d be better to have some more child-friendly options available for them, or at least for the two smaller ones.

Tim shouldn’t have too much trouble finding some, along with the other items on the list he texted. Hopefully he got back soon, he needed a few things for tonight if he wanted to get these kids to bed; especially the baby.

Speaking of, he held up another spoonful of lasagna to the little boy’s mouth, who pouted up at Bruce.

“Come on Eddie, just a few more bites,” he encouraged.

The child squirmed in his lap, obviously wanting to get down. Unfortunately he didn’t have a highchair to put him in, so this would have to do for now.

“Maybe he wants to do it himself,” Harley suggested in between bites of her second helping of dinner.

Bruce was glad to see there didn’t seem to be any side effects affecting her appetite. Pamela ate a plateful as well, thankfully. Jonathan seemed to be more distracted than hungry, but he hoped it was just from overtiredness or curiosity rather than any ill feelings.

As if to emphasize her point, Ed also declared that he “ca’ do i’,” as he reached for the spoon.

“I know, you wanna be like the big kids,” Bruce acknowledged. “I’ll let you have it after you eat a bit more of your dinner, okay? I want to make sure some of it actually gets in you.”

Eddie huffed but opened his mouth for more.

“There you go, Sweetpea.”

Honestly, Bruce wasn’t even sure where the nickname came from – none of his adopted children had been young enough to use a term of endearment like that on, not without it potentially coming off as pretentious – but it felt right to use.

Poor Eddie looked quite confused at the affectionate term, though.

Harley giggled at his response (he could also agree, it was adorable), and he screeched at her. Bruce shushed him, bouncing him, trying to calm him down before it could escalate, as he tried to think of a distraction for the little girl.

“How about after dinner and washing up, you all can choose what rooms you want to stay in.”

Worked like a charm, Harley immediately gasped and started asking about what each room was like, once in a while throwing questions to Dick (who had shown up 10 minutes after the kids sat down to eat, dressed back in casual clothes), and ideas to Pamela, who seemed to lose her shyness around Harley.

Jonathan, however, still said nothing. Bruce was getting a bit worried about how quiet he was being; he’d have to try to get the little boy comfortable enough to open up more.

For now though, he made sure Eddie ate at least half his plate before giving in and giving him the spoon to try. (To his credit, he did decently well, and Bruce was happy to see that he ended up with more dinner in him than anticipated.)

Edward’s POV

Dinner seemed to be awkward for everyone except Harley and Bruce. Harley because the clown was half insane and found even the weirdest situations to be ‘fun’, and Batman because he was currently in a fantasy world (that definitely said more about her than him).

His fellows at least got to eat by themselves, in their own seats, and using their own utensils, though. Bruce (still weird to know) didn’t trust him with either of those. So he was the only one sat on someone’s lap being spoon-fed (literally; he guessed Bats worried about the regular forks being too dangerous for him).

It was uncomfortable and embarrassing, and the occasional snickers did NOT help. He kept glaring over at the others, who always pretended to look innocent.

“Come on Eddie, just a few more bites.”

Edward looked at Bruce and glared at him too.

“Pretty sure he’d like to feed himself,” Harley sing-songed in a way that felt more like teasing than a suggestion.  

Still though, maybe Bruce would actually take the advice.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I would. Can I please do it myself?”  

Adults liked it when kids said ‘please,’ that usually helped, even if he used to hardly ever find it worth it.

“I know, you wanna be like the big kids. I’ll let you have it after you eat a bit more of your dinner, okay? I want to make sure some of it actually gets in you.”

He glared once more at the still snickering peanut gallery. It was also annoying that the only one who at least tried to keep a straight face out of politeness was Nightwing – or Dick, he supposed (and that was just as weird as ‘Bruce’ felt to use).

He sighed but opened his mouth, letting Bruce feed him another bite.

“There you go, Sweetpea.”

Ed almost choked on his bite of pasta, fortunately managing to swallow it down before he could (he didn’t need Bruce switching him to a soft food diet or something, as a consequence).

He stared at Batman dumfounded, and he was sure everyone else was as well. Because mind control or not, Batman just called him a pet name! Him. The Riddler. There was no way to explain the level of unhinged that was.

It only took a few seconds for Harley to get her bearings and start cackling like a hyena. Ed felt his face heat up, and whipped around to face her.

“Shut. Up.”  

She didn’t though, and Bruce tried to calm him down instead, much to his continued mortification. (One should not have to deal with being bounced on your enemy’s knee not just once, but twice, in less than 24 hours.) He groaned but turned away from her, just wanting this dinner to be done and over with.

“How about after dinner and washing up, you all can choose what rooms you want to stay in,” Bruce said, seemingly trying to give Harley a new distraction to latch onto.

(To the man’s credit, it actually worked, despite Harley not actually being a four year old. At least not physically.)

“Oooh, we get to choose? Nice! I call dibs on something with a balcony- no wait, its own bathroom. Hey Dick, you have those kind of “extra” bits with these rooms, right? I mean, they are for fancy rich people after all. Ives! What if one of them has a hot tub?”

Edward did his best to just ignore her rambling and focus on eating. As promised, once he finished about half of his plate, Bruce let him have the spoon, and he was finally able to eat with a little bit of dignity left.

After dinner, Bruce ushered everyone into the kitchen sink to wash any hint of pasta sauce from their faces and hands, while Dick helped Alfred clean up. Edward was happy to not be the only one subjected to any additional embarrassment; all of them received a wet towel wipe via mind-controlled Batman. (To his annoyance, the women weren’t as reactive, but at least Jonathan’s obvious irritation was cathartic).

Bruce then brought them into a family room and set everyone up on the couches, as he browsed through the TV station Kids’ Programs.

“Tim should be back soon, then we’ll get you guys ready for bed. And tomorrow we’ll show you the game room and library, and everything else. Okay?”

“Aww, but when do we get to choose our rooms?”

“Right before you’re ready to sleep in them, Harley.”  

Some show that Edward didn’t care about was selected. Harley and Ivy cozied up together on the loveseat (figures), while Jonathan inspected the small room with Dick keeping a close eye on him. After finding nothing interesting, Jon sat down on an armchair, leaning back and closing his eyes.

Ed meanwhile was bored, and not interested at all in whatever animated junk was playing. (It looked like Looney Tunes but newer, they still made Looney Tunes?) Instead he focused on Bruce, wanting to see how much of him the man could understand… plus again, bored, riddles, it was his thing.

“Bruce,” he said, getting his attention.

“Yes, Eddie?”

He’d start with an easy one. Or easy for him and Batman at least, but definitely beyond the scope of a toddler.

“What lives if you feed it, but dies if you give it water?”

He heard someone sigh dramatically in the background, but he ignored them.

“Hmm, I would have to say Fire,” Bruce said indulgently (which was a nice change of pace, he couldn’t even lie to himself).

“Correct! Now, what did I say to you?”

Hopefully Bruce understood what he meant, this was important.

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I’m not sure what you mean. Do you want me to repeat the riddle you asked?”

“Yes, exactly!”

“Alright,” Bruce chuckled like it was just typical childish shenanigans. “You asked me ‘what is hot and eats but can’t have water or it goes away’, and I said ‘fire’.”

Zatanna’s assumptions seemed to be correct so far, on both counts. He did simplify the riddle (to an annoying amount), so it was more like what a small child would say, but didn’t seem to realize that still was more advanced than he should be capable of.

“Okay, another one then. What breaks yet never fails, and what falls but never breaks?”

“Oh that’s a tough one, but I’m going to say… Day and Night?”

“Yes!” Okay, maybe he got a little too excited when people actually played along. But still. “Repeat it back to me?”

“Tell you what you said again?” Bruce asked to confirm.

“Yes, tell me what you heard.”

“Alright, you said, ‘it starts everyday with the sun, and the other comes every night with the moon, what are they’, which is very clever.”

For some reason Ed felt himself blush at the unexpected compliment. Even if Bruce only meant it because he perceived him as a smart child… it still felt nice for someone to say so. Not like he got a lot of compliments on his intellect as an actual child, especially not from his parents. And he always wanted someone to say it to him now; it was part of why he does what he does.

Just then, B’s phone pinged with a new text. He read it, taking a moment to reply, before he focused back on Ed.

“Speaking of Nighttime, or bed time, really, Tim is finally back. So you guys should finally be able to get washed and comfy in some new pajamas.”

Edward looked down at the dirty white Arkham jumpsuit he was still wearing and grimaced. Batman caught them before they even had the chance to settle in, let alone time to pick up an extra suit to change into. He wouldn’t mind having something nicer to sleep in.

“Hey, we’re back,” Red Robin’s voice called into the room before he stepped in with another person. “Hope you don’t mind I had Steph meet up with me to help. She wanted to meet the ‘kids’.”

“Yeah, and he put me to work for it,” the blonde girl said rolling her eyes, before spotting their guests. “Hello!”

She looked over at the four rogues spread out on the couches next to Bruce and Dick in civilian wear, as a kids’ show played on the television.

“You know, you told me what to expect, and somehow it’s both under and overwhelming at the same time,” she concluded.

Bruce didn’t deign her with a response.  

“Find everything okay,” he asked instead.

“Well, not everything.” Tim confessed. “I told you about the uh- limited stock, and Steph running to Lee’s to get some medical grade ones for now.”

He glanced at the ‘kids’, eyes settling on Edward a few seconds longer than the others, before gesturing to the bag in his hand, communicating something to Bruce.

“I did get pajamas, tooth brushes, all the things you should need for tonight. Everything else I’ll have to special-order and get overnighted.”

“And they really didn’t have everything on my list? I’m surprised.”

That was the most like Batman any of them heard him sound all evening, the tone screamed ‘I find that suspicious, hn’.

“Ah, well apparently the CostMart we went to was still suffering from inventory issues from last week – you remember the delivery truck robberies.” Stephanie cut in smoothly. “And we didn’t really have time go to multiple places, he already had me making an extra stop on the way to meet up. So we figured we’d get what was needed and get the rest ordered for tomorrow. More efficient and all that jazz.”

“Hn,” Bats didn’t sound like he quite believed it 100% but let it go. (It was a good excuse, better than ‘sorry none of these stores carry children’s size 20’ or anything that was actually the truth.)

“Where’s Eddie’s stuff,” Bruce asked instead.

He was handed one of the bags, and hiked it onto his shoulder, before picking up Riddler, who just sighed at that point.

“Please help the other children get ready for bed. I’m gonna give Eddie a quick bath. If you can do the same with Jonathan and Harley, so it’s less for me to do, I’d appreciate it.” The other Batkids nodded. “Pamela, are you old enough to shower with supervision?”

“Uh, yeah, definitely,” the woman said both stunned and relieved. Not that she believed the others would actually follow Bruce’s directions, but if the time ever came for Bruce to step in, it’d be nice to have a little bit more leeway.

“Good, thank you, Pammy, that’s a big help,” he said giving her a soft smile (And wow, Ed blinked in surprise, the double whammy actually has the plant queen flustered) before walking out of the room, and down the maze of hallways.

Edward huffed at being unable to see more of someone else being thrown for a loop, for once. He wasn’t quite sure why he was the one always singled out. Sure it could be because Bruce perceived him as the youngest, and was just being extra cautious (he supposed being a ‘baby’ made him more fragile or something). But still, it’s wasn’t like Dick wasn’t also an adult, capable of handling an infant. Unless him being younger just made Bats feel less uncomfortable to interact with?

Whatever the reason, and no matter how much Ed wanted to investigate Batman’s civilian identity, he’d really like it if the man started paying attention to the others more. He needed a break.

Especially after this, he thought as Bruce brought him into a very nice bathroom inside the master bedroom. It featured a large, picturesque bathtub, not quite the size of a hot tub, but definitely roomier than average.

Conclusions began whirring in Riddler’s head: Batman must subconsciously know that I’m not an actual child, or at least not the actual size of one. He wouldn’t be dumb enough to place a real toddler in a tub large enough to hold two grown men– it’d be an unnecessary risk. And surely not every bathroom has this kind of setup; so there’d be plenty of others available, even with everyone else using them as well.

So somewhere in there, underneath the haze, Batman knew his reality was being twisted, and was accommodating to it as much as he could without being completely aware.

It was fascinating.

Bruce set him down, and took the shopping bag off his shoulder. He started to dig through the various items Ed could hear moving around inside, before pulling out a colorful mesh bag with sea-themed creatures printed on it.

“You wanna look through this, Baby? See which toys you wanna play with during bath time?”

Edward numbly took the bag, feeling embarrassed despite it only being him and Bruce now. The baby treatment was already bad enough, but the cutesy nicknames were going to tip him over the edge.

Bruce smiled at him (and that was always weird, too) before turning to the tub and starting to fiddle with the taps.

Ah, a distraction for ‘the baby’, got it. Well, he needed a distraction for his racing thoughts, anyway.

He started unloading the bath toys from the bag, taking a cursory glance at each, allowing Bruce continue setting up in peace – tub filled, towels taken out of the cabinet and resting nearby, new shampoos, soaps, and conditioner lined the tub’s edge. Bruce only paused to encourage him to throw the toys into the water as it filled, to which he did so gracelessly. Each minute sinking in that he was literally about to bathed like a small child by The Batman.

On the one hand, getting clean sounded amazing. On the other, his rival was going to see him undressed, and be the one to clean him. Mind control or not, neither of them were ever living this down.

All too soon, Bruce was taking the empty bag from him, and gently starting to remove his clothes. Ed didn’t fight it, knowing Batman could easily overpower him, instead he tried to keep his mind distracted from the awkwardness. He wondered how Bruce processed the clothing situation – did he believe their clothes shrunk with them, or maybe he saw them as wearing a now too big jumpsuit (despite the fact that he wouldn’t be able to move in it if he was actually the size of an 18 month old); it must have been similar to the bathtub size subconscious reasoning.

He couldn’t help but blush once the clothing was off, huddling in on himself. Bruce, of course, didn’t notice his discomfort, just picked him up under the arms and placed him in the tub.

As soon as he sank into the warm water he couldn’t help but sigh in satisfaction. The bath was warm and sudsy, nice and soothing on his exhausted body (escaping Arkham took a lot out of you).  

If he could, it would be just the slightest bit hotter. But even still, it was leagues warmer than what Arkham allowed their patients to have, lukewarm being a generous term. So he could enjoy this part.

He heard Bruce chuckle at him from where he had leaned back and closed his eyes.

“I’m glad you like the water, but I need you to sit up for me, okay Eddie?”

He grunted in annoyance, but did so.

“Good job, thank you,” Bruce praised, while grabbing a washcloth. “Here Baby, we’ll put this over your eyes while I wet your hair.”

It was easier to just let it happen instead of arguing, so Ed let Bruce hold the fabric over his eyes and wet his hair with the hand-held showerhead.

Afterward, Bruce encouraged him to play while he washed his hair – which was a strange sensation, though definitely not unpleasant to have someone else carefully lather shampoo into his hair. He decided to humor him, dramatically inspecting each toy and what it did, with Bruce making engaging comments.

It was rather funny having The Dark Knight being so invested in a ‘child’s’ game.

His hair was rinsed, then conditioned. He was acutely aware of what was next, and automatically tensed. Bruce at least didn’t seem to notice, he just gently started to clean his shoulders and upper torso with a soapy wash cloth.

Edward mentally prepared himself, and when Bruce asked him to stand, he did so, and did his best to just zone out while the rest of him was quickly washed.

Clues on who Batman is so far:

• someone with money; living in a large mansion, so someone either in the public eye or at least well known enough – the house drew too much attention and there weren’t any known abandoned mansions, or ones open to the public that could be used as a decoy.
• He was someone with multiple younger associates – the “Batkids”, whom he knows on a personal level. Friends? Family? The question was if their relationships were public or not. That many people, there had to be traces.
• He was apparently someone who was kinder outside of the cowl than in it. He didn’t even hesitate for a second to bring his known enemies into his home when they appeared helpless. Most people would dump them on someone else, like the GCPD, and call it a day. It may seem like a minor thing, but that type of empathy was lacking, especially in Gotham’s high society.

It felt like he should have the answer to the puzzle already, but the damn mind magic was keeping it away. Ugh, it was so frustrating! He knew without proper distractions his mind would keep replaying the clues over and over, again and again, and if something didn’t snap him out soon he would start to spiral-

“Alright Eddie, all done,” Bruce’s voice broke him from his thoughts. “You can play a few more minutes but then we have to get out and get ready for bed, alright?”

He nodded at Bruce, mind clearing before it could get stuck, and he felt like he could breathe again. He wasn’t happy with being infantilized, but at least it provided a distraction. There was nothing more agonizing to him than a puzzle he couldn’t solve, especially if he knew it was actively being kept from him.

He kept a side eye on Bruce as he ‘played,’ subtly lining the toys up, ready to be put away again.

After another two minutes, Bruce pulled the drain and grabbed the towel. Ed stood and was wrapped in a thick, fluffy towel, larger than what he was used to (Batman and Co were quite the tall and bulky individuals, having towels to match and the finances to afford them just made sense). It ironically made him feel rather tiny, at least in comparison. The feeling didn’t dissipate as he was lifted out again, the fabric draping over his head, yet still managing to engulf most of his body was well.

Bruce patted him dry, and led him out into the bedroom area, grabbing the still half-full shopping bag with him.

Ed was momentarily confused when, instead of taking out whatever probably ridiculous pajamas Tim had chosen for him, Bruce instead picked him up again and laid him backwards on the bed, first.

It hit him a moment later.

“Wait,” he said, just in time to see Bruce pull out a plain, hospital type of adult diaper. What Tim said to Bruce also suddenly became clear.

(He felt like an idiot for not realizing before; though he had thought of a number of possibilities for what ‘medical grade’ could be in reference to – medicine of course, perhaps equipment for testing their DNA to help Batman find ‘a cure’ for them, or even just equipment that could pass for ‘children’s size’ in Bat’s twisted mind. But there had been no indication that Bruce thought that he even needed anything like that. He hadn’t commented on it at all up until this point!)

Bruce didn’t seem to hear him though, or maybe he didn’t realize what he was trying to reject. But either way, the man just continued pulling out related changing materials and setting them to the side.

“Bruce!”

“Hm? Yes, Eddie?”

“I- I don’t need that.” He just had to appeal to Bats as if he were a particularly advanced child, that would do it. “I can use the bathroom, I don’t need diapers. I promise.”

He felt his face flush, and was so relieved it was just Batman (even mind-altered Batman) to hear him say such a thing.

“Oh, Eddie, I know you’re a very smart boy,” Bruce said reassuringly. “But you’re still just so little, Sweetpea. A bit too little to use the potty right now.” (Ed felt like his face was on fire.) “We have to use this, so you don’t have an accident, okay?”

Edward did not even bother with a response, knowing Bruce was not going to listen to him. He just hoped by the end of this, he’d have an equal amount of blackmail material on the others to even things out. Hopefully enough to where they’d just never talk about this again.

He bit his lip in embarrassment and frustration, as Bruce tapped the diaper on him, and glared at Bats as he apologized for how uncomfortable the medical ones probably were.

Next Bruce pulled out the pajamas – at this point he expected something onesie-like (Bruce would expect no less, and Tim seemed like the type to pull something like that anyway), maybe even something green to match his usual style; he was correct, of course– but he wasn’t expecting the set to resemble a cutesy dinosaur, it was almost costume-like.  

The footed pajamas were a soft green, with darker green spikes, a cream patch on the stomach, and black beady eyes accented with an embroidered pink circular blush. The only ‘cool’ part was the white vaguely pointed teeth that poked out from the mouth section at the top of the hood. It was disgustingly cute.

He hoped Jonathan got something just as ridiculous.

He sighed in annoyance as B laid him in the fluffy pajamas; feet first, then arms, before he buttoned it up. The hood was tossed over his head, he would assume for posterity’s sake.

At least they were warm.

Bruce smiled at him (he was slowly getting used to that) and picked him back up.

“Alright baby, let’s go make sure everyone else is in their jammies, then we’ll get you to bed.”