Chapter Text
In big red ink, the Wednesdays of Bruce’s calendar read “Babysitting Lila.” The rest of the day remained clear, a testament to his commitment to be the option Tim picked for his weekly date nights with Conner.
An excitement itched under his skin, urging him to wait by the door like a dog, waiting for the headlights to pull up. He missed having all his babies under one roof. He knew he couldn’t do what he wanted—force them all to live in the Manor. Almost all of his children had taught and re-taught him that lesson, beginning with the explosive shouting matches that had characterized Dick’s young adult life. At some point, they would inevitably feel smothered and fly the nest.
But, if Bruce tried his best, they would return from time to time. So, he tried his best. Even though his best effort usually failed miserably.
Bright headlights flickered through the blinds of the front sitting room, and Bruce rose from the seat and walked calmly and measuredly to the door. He opened it before Tim could knock, and was immediately rewarded with a view of his son and granddaughter.
“Boo-boo!” Lila exclaimed, leaning forward in Tim’s arms.
Bruce stepped forward and caught her front half, slipping her smoothly into his hold. Like always, her hands jumped to his stubbly five o’clock shadow. If he always forgot to shave on Wednesday mornings, well, that was just a product of late patrol nights.
“She’s missed you,” Tim said, crossing his now empty arms. He had a nice suit on, and gel slicked his hair back. Bruce wondered which fancy restaurant they were trying tonight. A new sushi place had just opened downtown; something trendy with the kids. It was probably that one.
Bruce tilted his head forward and brushed his nose against hers. “You can pick her up tomorrow afternoon.”
Tim nodded, taking a step back. “Everything good?”
Bruce shook his head and reached out, pulling Tim into a half-hug. “Now it is.”
Tim laughed and pushed back, but the smile on his face betrayed his words. “You big sap. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Together, Bruce and Lila remained there on the porch as Tim left in the SUV Bruce had gifted him long ago, because Bruce didn’t want to go inside quite yet. He’d lose his one-and-one time so soon.
Thankfully, sparkling stars glittered in the night sky like spilled champagne, a testament to the winter sun hiding out early in the evening. Taking advantage of the premature darkness, Bruce pointed out Orion’s Belt to Lila. Like a good student, her eyes followed his pointed finger, until her heavy head fell back onto his shoulder and she stared straight up. He pointed out a few more until the temperature cooled and then they slipped inside.
Alfred puttered around the kitchen, setting up dinner, and Damian worked on his homework at the kitchen island. Upon seeing the baby, Damian opened his arms and Bruce acquiesced, already having stayed outside to hog her just a little longer.
Damian wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he really missed having Timothy and Lila around.
(Connor, not so much. That man was best in small doses. Damian could barely fathom how Jonathon and he were related, since Damian could tolerate one leagues better than the other. When Damian had told Timothy this, he had just smiled that infuriating little smile that usually preceded the “you’ll understand when you’re older comments,” so he had quit the conversation.)
Damian set his forgotten homework aside as he took the infant. Someone had put the top of her hair up in a bow, but it had been knocked askew by presumably careless handling. He fixed it carefully while he sat her on his lap.
“Hi,” Lila said.
“Hello,” Damian replied.
She giggled and mashed her head into his chest, like some baby version of initiating a hug.
Damian patted her back. She pushed herself back upright, and then fisted her hands in his shirt, and tried to pull herself to standing. He kept his hands hovering around her but let her agonizingly struggle to stand. It paid off when she finally got her feet underneath her, and a toothy smile broke out across her face.
“Good work,” Damian praised, patting her head.
She had just achieved sixteen months, and she could already do so much. A warmth spread through his fingertips when he thought about her. Something warm and nice.
“Will you put away your schoolwork, Master Damian?”
Damian looked down at the worksheets covering the dining table. Yes, he could do that. And he could do it one-handedly. He stood up and shuffled Lila to his left arm.
“Ah, ah.” Alfred held out his hands. “I’ll take Miss Lila.”
Damian frowned but he acquiesced. It was Alfred, after all. And maybe he could steal her later. He had plans to complete.
Alfred liked using Bruce’s old infant furniture. He felt like the act breathed new life into them. It gave Alfred the same feeling he got when he viewed the most recent family portrait, something that was a busy, crowded mess. But something much better than when it was just Bruce.
Something else much better than Bruce was Miss Lila. She was a content infant for the most part. Nothing like the colicky infant Bruce had been in his early years. Alfred had always hoped Bruce would one day get a taste of his own fussiness, but it seemed that that would not happen.
Or at least, not with Lila. His other grandchildren certainly seemed to make up for that.
As Damian set the table, Alfred let Lila sample her dinner. He had prepared mini cheese cubes, small salmon cakes, and green beans. He cut a corner off the cake and let her try it. Her eyes lit up.
Success.
Now that Alfred knew she was satisfied, he could move on to less important things, like finishing dinner for everyone else.
School work put away and dishes put out, Damian returned to scoop Lila back up. Alfred said only fifteen minutes until everything was ready to eat, and the butler also didn’t allow phones at the table, so Damian only had a little bit of time to do what he needed.
He sat down on the floor of the playroom with Lila in his lap and called Richard. The ringer ran only twice before his face filled the screen, and Damian tilted it up against the couch.
“What’s up, Damian?”
He picked up Lila and raised her into the view of the camera in answer.
“Aww,” Richard cooed.
Lila squirmed in Damian’s arms, and so he set her down. She crawled to the phone and picked it up. “Gaga! Hi!”
“Hi, Lilaboo,” Richard said, finally moving his face. His background looked like his car. There were empty fast food containers on the back seats along with a thrown jacket. Unkempt, like always. “Is it Wednesday already? If I didn’t have a stakeout tonight, I’d already be there.”
“It’s your own fault for living in Blüdhaven,” Damian said. The sore subject poked at his heart.
“What, so you just called to gloat?”
Lila put a corner of his phone into her mouth, so Damian had to extract it and wipe it off. Dangers of having a young one near.
“You’re acting like an infant,” Damian belatedly replied.
“Well, she is a baby.”
“No, not Lila. You.”
Richard gasped. “I’m offended, Dames. I can’t believe you.”
Damian felt a smile at the edge of his mouth so he pointed the camera somewhere it wouldn’t show his face as his chest squeezed with his next question. “Are you still coming this weekend?”
“Of course,” Dick said. “I can’t wait to go to the zoo with you. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”
“Lila won’t be there.”
“Well, I gotta let you in on a secret, bud. I’d much rather hang out at the zoo with you than a baby.”
And then Damian smiled, the camera decidedly showing the ceiling.
Bruce finally got his baby back for dinner.
Alfred had set out the high chair, but Lila couldn’t bear to be apart from someone and Bruce couldn’t bear her pout. He knew there would come a time, when, just like all of his other children had done at some point or another, she’d want to be as far away as possible, so he’d soak up the clinginess while he could.
Then, after dinner, Bruce bathed her and brushed her teeth. She loved the bath. She did not quite enjoy the teeth-brushing.
Afterwards, it was almost her bedtime (and almost patrol time) but there was still one activity left to do.
The family gathered in the sitting room with the lights turned low except for a lamp next to Alfred’s chair. Bruce, Damian, and Lila all sat on the opposite couch. The pulled-shut curtains blocked the late summer sun in an effort to encourage infant sleepiness.
Bruce had said infant in his lap, with his arm slung over Damian’s shoulders. Lila’s back lay against Bruce’s stomach, his other arm bracing her, and Damian petted her head as she stared up at him.
Bruce reveled in the warmth, the coziness, the mastery of it all.
Because the thing was, Bruce didn’t always think he did the parent thing right.
No, he knew he didn’t.
And it had never been spelled out so clearly for him than when Dick had taken over and done a better job of caring for Damian than he had.
One thing he had learned was to be a bit freer with the physical affection, like Dick always had been. At first, it felt awkward. But, then it felt like a relief.
Somehow it could convert all the things he had so much trouble saying. And so he pulled Damian into his side, hoping the I love you came through just as clearly as he wished, but in a manner they could both stomach.
Alfred ahemed softly and opened the book. The worn bindings of The Secret Garden creaked, a testament to its incredible longevity. Bruce’s mom had started reading it for him, Alfred had finished it, and now the tradition continued.
Alfred’s voice dipped and fell in swooping crescendoes, and he’d turn the book outward often for the readers to inspect the pictures, a warm sense of deja vu blessing Bruce.
The setting sun sent spray rays of orange peeking through the tops of the curtains, and eventually, the baby fully slumped against Bruce’s supporting arm, knocked out.
There was no better way to end Lila’s night, and to begin their own.