Work Text:
Bruce Wayne had two chicks.
It was a well known, well established fact of life.
He had two.
He met Dick at the circus. It was a fun night, and everybody was smiling. The boy, young as he was, knew how to work the crowd. Knew all his parents moves and when to do them. He was an experienced acrobat, and robin wings only let him leap higher.
It was a fun night. Until it wasn’t.
But they made it through.
Bruce met Jason on a late night patrol, and he only got back to the batmobile after three of his tires were missing. The meeting was hard in its own way. Jason wasn’t a trusting chick. He’d already seen so much hurt.
Bruce made it work. And that night, in the nest, he had two chicks.
The media knows of it. Whether or not they support it depends on what news channel you’re watching. Some delight him as a perfect father while the rest scorn him. He doesn’t care what they think
He has two perfect chicks. He loved them dearly. They were precious and dear to him.
He chirps out a call to let them know that he was entering the nest room. They should be snuggled up in the nest by now- he’d been out for most of the night.
In the nest he saw three heads and he sighed in relief. Everybody was safe. He got into the nest and scented each of them, pressing a kiss to his littlest chick’s forehead.
They were safe. He dozed off to the sound of soft snores. Him and his three chicks.
-
Bruce doesn’t wake up until he hears a soft knocking on wood.
“Master Bruce- is everything alright?”
Yawning, Bruce peers out of the nest, covering his chicks with his wing, before he notices it’s just Alfred.
“Hn. Must’ve slept in.”
“Indeed. I saw to it that-“
Bruce looks to him expectantly. Why did he cut off?
“Master Bruce!”
Bruce sits up completely and lets out a chirp involuntarily in response to Alfred’s tone. He doesn’t think that he’s taken that tone with Bruce since he was much younger- Or maybe when he had first taken in Dick.
“Alfred?”
“You cannot keep doing this. You need to put that back where he came from.” Bruce looks behind him, at his kids. What is Alfred talking about?
The youngest one stirs and Bruce shushes him, apologizing quietly for the disturbance. The kid looks up at him with giant blue eyes. Bruce swipes his wrist across the kids neck.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Who is that?” Alfred gestures and Bruce tries really really hard to not snap at the older man because really Alfred wouldn’t deserve the attitude. But- that’s his baby.
“My chick?” he asks, incredulous.
“Those two,” Alfred gestures, “those are your chicks. That one? I’ve never seen in my life, Master Bruce.”
“I’m sorry,” the little chick said, and the tone of his voice made Bruce want to cry. He shouldn’t be apologizing just because Alfred decided to wake up and have the audacity to- what is happening here?
“It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ve got you. Go back to sleep.”
“Master Bruce,” Alfred steps towards the nest and Bruce does hiss now, because Alfred is threatening his chicks.
He feels movement behind him, likely Dick and Jason waking up to assess the threat.
“Do not take that tone with me!” Alfred snaps back, and somehow he still sounds polite. The vulture unfortunately is the boss of him, so Bruce chirps out an apology.
“Master Bruce, where did the little one come from,” Alfred asks and Bruce huffs.
“He was in my nest. He’s mine.”
Alfred seems to chew that thought in his head, “And what’s his name?”
Bruce drew a blank.
“My baby,” he tried, but he knew that wasn’t nearly enough.
“Master Bruce.”
Bruce frowned and grabbed his chick, pulling him into his lap and tucking his head under his chin. The boy squawked and squirmed, as if he wasn’t used to it and didn’t know how to react. Weird.
“See, he was in my nest, and that means he’s mine.” He argues back to Alfred.
Alfred sighs and looks to his chick. He wants to pull his wings around the boy to hide him, but he doesn’t.
“What’s your name, my boy?”
“I’m Tim.”
“Good morning to you, Master Tim. Where did you come from, little one?”
Tim tries to reply, Bruce thinks, but it’s overshadowed by the chick absolutely bursting into tears. And Bruce is over it. He quickly surrounds Tim with his pitch black wings, which causes the little chick to quiet down. When they’re still little, chicks will calm down instantly when in the dark. Dick has grown out of it, and Jason’s on his way. Tim still has it.
“Master Bruce,” Alfred sounds irritated. But frankly, Bruce doesn’t care. He upset his baby, and that’s a crime that Bruce won’t forgive.
“He’s mine!” He snaps, and lets his canines show. Anatomy varies on what species one takes after. Dick will never have canines, a small songbird as himself. But Jason’s already growing his. Bruce is pretty sure that Jason’s falcon wings will outgrow Bruce’s own. Undoubtedly.
“Very well, Master Bruce. I will see if the neighbors are missing a kid, and be back with breakfast.”
Extra:
"I told you it would work, Timbo." Jason whispered to Tim, once Bruce had finally left the nest to do something or the other.
"I thought you said he was smart!"
"Yeah, but he's a big ol softie when it comes to his kids. Black hair, blue eyes, and smelling like the flock? He can't tell the difference between me and Dick on a good day."
"Huh." Tim pondered what that might mean in the future.
"Anyhow. Do you ever think he'll catch on."
"Duh. But by then it's too late. Pretty sure he's already imprinted."
Tim's smile is sharp and calculated, "Perfect."
"Can you two be quiet? I was up so late doing that assignment from Mr. Johnson's class."
"Sorry, Dick."
"Yeah, sorry, dickhead."
A punch is thrown and suddenly the nest dissolves into feathers flying as the two of them tussling. Yeah. Tim made the correct choice.