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Bruce hadn’t realized how happy he was until he pulled Damian into his lap.
Damian was warm in his arms, soft breaths puffing against Bruce’s chest where he was held. His fingers held Bruce’s sweater; the fabric bunched up in his grip.
He stared down at the tiny vampire in his arms, smiling gently at him.
Nearly two years ago, Dick had appeared in the manor, sleepless panic written into every tense muscle within his body, and a baby bundled in his arms. Bruce wouldn’t forget the way his stomach dropped at the sight; Bruce’s life, Dick’s life, would not, could not, be the same, ever.
Damian.
A vampire like Dick. A baby Dick had with Talia.
Bruce had nearly fainted when Dick admitted that part of the situation.
When Dick had been taken in by Bruce, he was old enough to have been taught the basics; his instincts, how to handle his hunger, how to explain what he needed. To sit in the cave while Bruce handed over prototype after prototype of synthesized blood for him to taste until they found one he liked.
With Damian, they had none of that. Neither Dick nor Bruce knew how to care for a baby vampire. Hell, Bruce hadn’t even known that vampires could be born. Assumed they were turned at some point while young.
But the two-year-old in his arms proved him wrong.
He also proved that Dick and Bruce had learned, figured it out enough to get him to this point.
Bruce glanced at the others in the room. While Damian stayed settled in his lap, his father was sitting across the room, chatting with Tim, while Jason and Cass picked through the meat and cheese board Alfred had brought over. Bruce was secretly proud. Damian had wandered over to him on his own, typically sticking close to Dick.
Damian pushed against Bruce until he was adjusted, facing the rest of the room with Bruce’s arms circled around his torso, and once he was settled, Bruce planted a kiss on top of Damian’s dark hair.
Bruce looked up when Tim let out a loud laugh—
—then he flinched back at the stabbing pain that erupted through his forearm. His gaze shot down, a grimace spreading across his face as he stared at the back of Damian's head.
“Dick.” He said, tone kept steady even as Damian began to slurp down blood, head bobbing, ripping at Bruce’s skin.
Dick looked up, “What’s up—” the smile on Dick’s face fell, a look of horror painting across it. He jumped up, knee cracking into the coffee table as he dropped in front of Bruce.
“Oh my god!” Dick shouted, hands uselessly hovering over Damian, “Let go! Damian! Let go!”
Jason had sat up on the couch, a look of disbelief on his face, while Cass was already making her way to Dick’s side, who was now trying to grab at Damian’s jaw. “Dami! Holy shit, let go!”
Cass’s fingers touched the bottom of Damian’s jaw, and he growled loudly, bite tightening.
Bruce sucked in a sharp breath.
“Holy fuck!” Tim exclaimed, “Dude, did you not feed him?!”
“I did!” Dick snapped, panic thick in his voice, “I swear it’s— it’s only been like two hours! Damian!”
Cass reached over, fingers gently sliding along Damian’s chin until she brought them to a stop on Damian’s cheeks.
“I’m going to apply a little pressure,” she said calmly, “he should let go.”
Dick sucked in a breath, hands coming up to cup Damian’s head.
“Dami,” Dick whispered out, “Sweetheart, I need you to let go, okay?”
Damian did not let go. He stared at Dick and Cass, a distressed noise vibrating through his chest as his hands curled tighter into Bruce’s sleeve.
Everyone watched with bated breath as Cass began to slowly press Damian’s cheeks in, hoping the disruption would loosen his bite.
At the increased pressure, Damian let out a whine, jaw quivering before he clamped down harder.
Bruce held still, sucking in another breath.
“B?” Tim said, a faint tremor in his voice as he caught Bruce’s eyes, “Maybe try pressing into his mouth? Gently?”
Bruce nodded, letting Cass pull away, and Dick slipped his fingers under Damian’s lips and readied himself to stop Damian from biting back down.
Bruce moved a hand to cup the back of Damian’s head, holding him in place as he slowly and gently pressed his arm further into Damian’s mouth. The group watched as Damian froze, eyes widening in confusion. Bruce could feel Damian trying to keep his fangs in his flesh, and as the uncomfortable pressure continued, he could also feel Damian’s bite angle slowly give.
Then, as quickly as he had tightened it onto Bruce’s arm, Damian’s jaw slackened, a loud, angry noise leaving his throat as he disconnected.
Dick pulled Damian out of Bruce’s lap immediately, scooping him into his chest and quickly stepping away, his spot filled by Tim quickly. Damian let out a broken sob, hands reaching out towards Bruce.
“No! No!”
Dick was quick to shush him, turning around and striding to the other side of the room, eyes watching as Jason peeled back Bruce’s sweater to reveal the jagged holes that had been dug into his arm. Dick frowned, attention quickly returning to Damian as he struggled against Dick’s grasp, tears flowing down his face as he cried.
“Down! Daddy, down!” Damian cried out, his legs trying to find a place on Dick’s waist to push off from.
“No, no, Damian, you can’t be down,” Dick said in a tight voice, watching as Alfred rinsed Bruce’s arm off with saline. The others crowded around him. Dick shifted Damian into one arm, the other coming up to catch the hands that were starting to beat against Dick’s chest, “We don’t hit. And we don’t bite, I mean—” Dick let out a groan before whispering to himself more than Damian, “why would you do that?”
As Alfred disinfected the bites and wrapped them in a bandage, Tim had taken a step back, walking over to Dick and Damian, a small frown on his face as Damian continued to cry, both wrists now caught in Dick’s hand and held gently against Dick’s chest.
“You said you fed him?” Tim asked, eyes focused on the bits of blood still stuck to the corner of Damian’s mouth.
“Yes! I swear! That’s why he was so tired when we got here! I don’t know why he would do that—” Dick sucked a sharp, shaking breath into his lungs, “B, I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t think—”
“It’s okay, Dick.” Bruce interrupted, one hand pressing against the gauze wrapped around his arm, testing it before letting both arms drop to his side. “He usually feeds off your arm, correct?”
“I mean, yeah, yes. But he’s never eaten from you! You’ve only ever given him blood in a cup when I was away!”
Bruce nodded slowly, making his way over to Dick and Damian, expression softening, “I’m not angry at either of you.” Bruce glanced at Damian, who had settled down, his breathing hitching every so often. Dick was still holding Damian’s hands, so Bruce reached forward to gently coax Dick into letting go.
“Whenever you feed him, he’s usually in your lap, and as you said, he almost always eats from your arm. He wandered over on his own, asked to be picked up, and got himself comfortable.” Bruce spoke gently.
He looked back at Dick.
“He was warm. He was calm. He was safe. It was honestly probably just instinct. Same routine. The same feelings and atmosphere. The only difference was that it was me instead of you, and I doubt he’s old enough to recognize why that difference matters.
Bruce brought both hands up, one resting on Dick’s shoulder and the other on Damian’s head. He gave Dick’s shoulder a quick squeeze, smiling at him before turning to address the small crowd that had formed behind him.
“We will all just have to have a little more caution when Damian is over,” Bruce said easily, “I’m not sure what his tells are that he may try to feed, but I’m more than sure that we can figure that out quickly.”
Jason, Tim, and Cass each nodded. Alfred looked up from where he had been rearranging the medical kit.
“Perhaps we should make sure the Young Master is kept well fed, yes? Until we at least have some knowledge as to when he may be so inclined to bite?”
Dick shot Alfred a small grin, “Yeah. I’ll try to make sure he stays full. But even that may not work.”
Dick looked down at Damian, running a hand over his mess of black hair.
“Sometimes he may eat not because he’s hungry, but for a variety of reasons. When he’s tired. Upset. Overwhelmed.” His voice softened, “It calms him down— well, calms most vampires down, fledgling or not. I think keeping his attention on other things would be smart as well.”
Dick looked back up as Bruce walked back over, arms outstretched.
“We can figure everything out later, once we’ve had dinner. For now, I’d like to hold my grandson again.”
Dick’s mouth fell partially open, “Are you sure? It hasn’t even been five minutes—”
“Of course. He did not hurt me. I’m also very happy he felt safe enough with me to try to feed from me. No harm was done. No reason to stop the afternoon’s events, especially when the two of you are planning on returning to Bludhaven tonight.”
Damian reached out as well, meeting his grandfather halfway, arms wrapping around Bruce’s neck as he was pulled out of his father's arms. Damian in hand, Bruce turned around, made his way back to his chair, and sat back down.
Once Bruce leaned back, his hand grasped in Damian’s as he twisted Bruce’s fingers around, the others began to reclaim their spots on the couches, Dick restarting his conversation with Tim, eyes glancing over at Damian every few minutes.
Dick watched as Bruce shifted Damian’s attention from his hand to his watch, smiling when Damian’s full focus went to turning the crown of Bruce’s watch, the beginning of a purr starting up in his chest.
It had been a month since Damian had tried, well, did feed from Bruce, and now every time Dick and Damian visited the rest of the family, Dick was watching Damian like a hawk. He had only gotten particularly close with one other person so far, and Cass had moved her arm away before he got the chance, quick to get his attention focused on a toy on the floor.
Other than that one time, Dick was always watching closely enough to stop Damian before he could get too close. When he seemed to get just a little too comfortable, eyes maybe a little too droopy, Dick was quick to scoop him out of whoever's lap he resided in.
Currently, Damian was settled back against Jason’s chest, barely awake. They were all back in the living room, gathered around a board game following a family dinner. Dick had fed Damian not even half an hour ago, so he had high hopes that he could leave Damian to his own devices without any problems. Damian was still on a blood high, and if Dick had to guess, he would be fast asleep in his uncle’s arms within the next ten minutes.
Dick wouldn’t exactly consider watching over Damian when he was around his human family stressful, but there was a certain hecticness about it, especially when Dick would glance over, and Damian was staring at a stray limb like a cat about to pounce on a mouse.
As soon as Dick noticed, he was always quick to intervene, hopping out of his seat or walking over, usually just picking Damian up and focusing his attention elsewhere. Sometimes he would be just a little too late to grab him, so Dick would shove his hand in between his fledgling’s fangs and his family's skin.
Damian would almost always fuss when Dick would pick him up suddenly, a loud whine following Dick plucking him away, though once Dick introduced a toy, a coloring sheet, or some other distraction, Damian was quick to forget what had annoyed him in the first place.
Dick spared another glance at Damian, whose eyes were barely open, head lolled back against Jason. He turned his attention back to the cards in his hand, shooting an unimpressed look at Cass, who looked equally unimpressed as Tim and Bruce bickered in front of them.
As Tim let out an affronted squawk, Bruce grinning wildly while throwing a card on the table, Jason laughed, head thrown back. When Dick’s attention shifted back to Jason, he felt his smile falter.
Damian was no longer on the verge of sleep. Instead, he was sitting happily in Jason’s lap, both hands holding onto Jason’s arm, eyes piercing and sharp as he looked down.
Before Dick could really think it through, he was shooting himself forward, practically launching himself over the coffee table to grab Damian under the arms and pull him away.
Damian made a sharp, startled noise as he was grabbed.
“What—” Jason asked, though he got his answer when his eyes caught up with Dick, who was now standing outside the circle of people. Damian had sunk down onto Dick’s arm, slurping down blood quietly while Dick stayed unamused.
“Saw him staring down at your arm,” Dick explained, walking back around to stand in front of his spot on the couch, “really didn’t want a redo of last time.”
Dick didn’t sit back down right away.
He stood there for a moment longer than necessary, Damian pressed close to his chest, his own arm held rigid where Damian fed. His eyes flicked briefly to Jason’s forearm, which was unmarked and unhurt. He then glanced at Bruce, who gave him a small, knowing nod.
Dick swallowed. The sound of it felt too loud in his ears. He adjusted his grip on Damian, fingers digging in just slightly, grounding himself in the steady rise and fall of Damian’s breathing.
Only once Damian’s grip loosened, his jaw slackening with the beginnings of sleep, did Dick force his shoulders to relax.
Dick took a seat, shuffling Damian around until he was sitting against Dick’s stomach, arm still held up to Damian’s mouth.
“Huh,” Tim said, “I really thought he was going to pass out after dinner.”
“Same,” Dick agreed, “Guess not. Maybe he will after he finishes eating this, the blood should give him a high, or at least, strengthen the one he had earlier.”
Dick leaned over, mindful of Damian, to scoop his forgotten cards up.
“I didn’t even notice him wake up,” Jason said as Dick sat upright again, “thanks for the save.”
“Anytime,” Dick said calmly, “You guys good to keep going?”
Once everyone had nodded, Dick turned his attention back to Damian. He seemed to actually be asleep now, jaw slackened against Dick’s arm, a tiny trail of blood dripping from the corner of his lips and down Dick’s arm. Dick wiped it away with a soft smile, adjusted Damian so he was lying more comfortably across Dick’s lap, before choosing a card for his next turn.
Damian settled easily. Dick drew in a breath, resigning himself to the fact that he may very well die from a heart attack before Damian learned to push against his instincts—maybe even before he could plan his baby’s third birthday.
With a fond shake of his head, Dick slipped his fingers into Damian’s hair, looking up to return Bruce’s small smile.