Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Bruce was 21 and fresh out of training, not yet sure what he wanted to do with his life, when he first met Janet. She was 10 years older, wit sharp as a knife and just as willing to cut. She was exactly the kind of mistake Bruce was looking to make at the time.
She was also married. And married to Jack Drake of all people. Previously Jackson Down — he took his wife's name upon marriage, for it's prestige and the accompanying multi-national conglomerate — Bruce had known the man to be insufferable since they were both children at his parents galas. Jackson was also older than him, and Bruce well remembers the teenager doing everything in his power to embarrass young Bruce in front of his parents. It was no wonder, then, that Janet was displeased enough with their marriage to seek solace elsewhere, and Bruce oblidged.
Looking back, it was really just another in a dozen methods of self destruction Bruce indulged in to try and numb at least a bit of the pain he felt being back in Gotham. Janet had a mean streak a mile long and she knew how to make him hurt in just the right places.
After Bruce found Batman he had less time to see her, his nights now occupied with blood and fists rather than carefully targeted words and silken sheets, but there were still stolen moments at galas and whenever they could. Janet's marriage seemed to be doing slightly better, at least on the outside, but she still seeked him out when she needed relief.
Then came the circus, and everything changed. Bruce had never expected or wanted to be a parent, he didn't even know if he was a parent. There was only a twelve year difference between him and his new ward and Bruce often felt more like an older brother than a father, but he still loved Dick fiercely, everything in him begged him to do better, be better for the sake of the boy. Overall, his affair with Janet had lasted the better part of three years, Bruce ended it with a five minute call.
It was 18 months before he saw her again, this time shrouded in the mantle of the Bat. It was a normal patrol night — quiet, Dick had been going out as Robin for a while then and the two of them had found a rhythm, a balance to their partnership that made everything easier.
Bruce had done everything in his power to keep the kid away from his conturbed night life, but it had been an impossible task. At first Dick had been determined to catch his parents killer, sneaking out of the house in increasingly inventive ways to hunt the man down, then after Bruce finally caved and helped put Zucco behind bars — telling Dick about Batman in the process, he thought the kid would settle and move on to a relatively normal life. Bruce was wrong.
After finding out about Batman, Dick was even more insistent in becoming a vigilante. One could say the boy was relentless. He designed a whole new costume to replace his old circus leotard, called himself 'Robin' and somehow ended up following Bruce into Gotham every night despite his and Alfred's desperate attempts to stop him. Eventually Bruce relented, figuring it was best to have the kid with him and trained than having Dick sneak out with no supervision.
The two of them worked surprisingly well together. While Dick was chaos incarnate on a good day, he took the job seriously and listened to Bruce on most occasions. Bruce watched as Dick flew on his grapple a little ahead of him, his movements more elegant and practiced than even the Bat's and marveled at how much his life had changed in just a little over a year. He may now be plagued with bad puns and broken chandeliers but he wouldn't change it for the world.
His comm came to life with a burst of static, Alfred's steady voice coming in:
"Sir," The butler said. "There are reports of a possible domestic disturbance coming in from Bristol. The neighbors have been complaining of loud noises and fighting for days but there seems like there were shots fired just five minutes ago. Police ETA is still 15 minutes."
"What's the address?" Bruce grunted, already turning back away from the inner city and calling Dick to follow with a gesture.
"The Drake Estate, sir."
It took them less than five minutes to get to the sterile mansion bordering Wayne Manor. They burst through the living room window to find Janet covered in blood, crowded into a corner of the room by her seething husband, curling into herself in order to protect a small bundle of fabric clutched tight to her chest. Bruce's heart skipped a beat when he realized the bundle was a baby.
Batman leapt into action, kicking the gun out of Jack's hands pushing the man into a wall.
"I don't know what is going on here," His voice was like gravel as he slammed Jack hard. "But it takes a special kind of coward to point a gun at a baby, never mind his own son."
"That is not my son." Jack spat, face red. "That woman hasn't let me come near her in years. No, my whore of a wife went and had another man's kid and now she just expects me to stay silent while she has me raise Brucie Wayne's baby? I'd rather be dead."
Bruce's whole world stops. Batman is still holding onto the man, gauntlet against Jack's throat and he barely notices as his grip tightens until Jack is coughing and reaching out, trying to scratch him off. One hard punch is enough to knock him out.
"B-" Dick is frantic, hunched over Janet hand pressed against a bleeding wound in her chest. "I can't- I think she might be gone."
Janet has been shot, her eyes were glazed over and she was slumped against the wall, motionless. Bruce rushed over but he couldn't find a pulse. The baby was still sleeping, cradled in her arms. As Bruce watched the baby slowly came to, and Bruce couldn't breathe as he was met with eyes in the same shade of blue of his own.
Bruce knew — he knew — he was the only one Janet had an affair with, and while the child was very small he did seem to be at least a few months old, if Janet had a full term pregnancy… It was possible. In his bones he already knew, the baby was his.
The baby was his and his mom had just died. Bruce had to do something. He reached out to pick the child up but before he could the baby started crying, he stopped dead in his tracks — was it because of him? Should he still try to pick him up? What if he only screwed up further?
Dick interrupted his internal debate by reaching out and pulling the child into his own lap, soothing him softly and getting up to turn him away. "Hey baby," Dick whispered. "It's okay, it's going to be okay, I promise. Come on, just go back to sleep, you shouldn't have to see this."
Dick's eyes were wide but he was so gentle with the baby — his son, Bruce had a son. His eyes met Bruce's and he frowned. "We are taking him home with us right?" Dick demanded.
"I-" Bruce hesitated. "Robin-"
"B, this is your kid right? I mean it seems pretty obvious to me. And his mom just died. Don't tell me you are abandoning him here."
Bruce breathed. No, he could never abandon this baby, not now he knew he was his. But still, "That is Bruce Wayne's son." Bruce tried to explain. "Batman can't keep him."
"So we talk to Gordon. Explain the situation, have him let us deliver the kid to Bruce ourselves." Dick insisted.
"That is not how it works. They'll want to confirm paternity, interview Wayne, make sure he is a fit parent, all of it."
Dick snorted. "Well, he can't be that bad. They let him keep Grayson after all."
"Yeah, yeah, they did."
Dick's eyes softened and he leaned down next to Bruce, placing the baby in his father's arms. "Don't worry B. We'll do whatever we need to. We'll get him home."
Bruce stared at the baby's chubby cheeks and soft dark hair, his long lashes and cute button nose and felt his heart squeeze. "Yeah," He breathed. "We will."