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Duke could not believe what was happening.
Bruce Wayne was his new foster dad. Bruce fucking Wayne: billionaire, doctor, and, evidently, child collector. The man had one biological child, but his other four had all been adopted, mostly after being patients of his. Duke made number five.
Not that he was being adopted.
Both Lois and Bruce himself had been very clear. While this was intended to be a long-term placement, Duke would never be adopted unless he wanted to be. If his mom got better, then great. And if she didn’t, he’d be welcome to stay with the Waynes for as long as he needed to. It was a very generous offer, especially considering Duke’s medical history.
Though, after hearing Bruce describe the rest of his children, Duke’s sickle cell disease didn’t seem like that big of a deal. Throughout his five-day hospital stay, Bruce had educated him on his family members. As it turned out, all of the Wayne children had medical issues or disabilities of varying severity. For the first time in his life, Duke wouldn’t be the only sick kid around.
“I know it might be overwhelming, so feel free to take your time getting settled,” Bruce offered. Duke had been discharged from the hospital earlier that morning, so the man was now driving him to his new home. Lois, apparently, had already retrieved Duke’s belongings from the Quentins’ and dropped them off. He appreciated that greatly. He never wanted to see those people again (a feeling that was clearly mutual). “My eldest, Dick, and his girlfriend, Barbara, are coming over for dinner tonight, but don’t feel like you need to make an appearance if you’re tired. They all understand what’s it’s like the day you get out of the hospital.”
“I feel fine,” Duke shrugged. Which was the truth. His pain was much more under control, and his respiratory symptoms had all but vanished. “Besides, I’d like to meet everyone.”
His foster father smiled warmly. “Great! They’re all very excited to meet you, too. And if you need anything at all, just ask me or Alfred.”
Right. The butler. Because Duke was living in a place with a butler now.
Wayne Manor was just as large and intimidating as Duke imagined. It looked more like a castle than somebody’s house. He wondered how old the building was.
“Welcome to my family’s home,” Bruce announced as they got out of the car.
Duke let out a whistle. “This place is insane, Doc.”
The man retrieved Duke’s bag from the trunk. “It’s been in the family for centuries. And you can call me Bruce, remember?”
Right. He didn’t need to refer to Dr. Wayne as Dr. Wayne anymore. Because he was his foster father. And he was about to live with him in this ridiculously giant mansion.
“Yeah, sure, Bruce.”
Three people were waiting for them in the foyer. An older man with gray hair and a mustache that Duke assumed to be Alfred and two of the Wayne kids. One of them was definitely Cass, as she was the only girl in the family, and the other Duke knew to be Tim based on the many pictures Bruce had shown him of his children.
“Good afternoon, Master Duke,” the older man greeted, stepping forward. “My name is Alfred Pennyworth. I am caretaker of the estate and those who inhabit it.”
Duke smiled politely. “It’s nice to meet you, Alfred. Bruce has told me a lot about you—about all of you, actually.”
Tim laughed and held out his hand. “Yeah, I’ll bet he has. But I’ll introduce myself anyway. I’m Tim.”
“Good to meet you, dude,” Duke nodded, accepting the handshake. He shook Cass’s hand next. “And you’re Cass, right?”
She grinned. “Yes. I’m Bruce’s favorite.”
Bruce appeared beside them and placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Cassie, we’ve been over this. I don’t have a favorite child.”
“Fine. Favorite daughter, then.”
“You're more than welcome to claim that title. Now, my favorite daughter, how about you and Tim show Duke around? I have some work I need to get done before dinner. That is, if he feels up for a tour.”
“I’d love one,” Duke agreed immediately. He couldn’t wait to explore the place he’d be living in from now on.
Bruce nodded. “Good. I’ll be in my office if you need anything. We’re really glad you’re here, Duke.”
“Thanks, Bruce.”
“Before you start the tour,” Alfred cut in, “might I offer some refreshments? I took the liberty of baking a batch of cookies in honor of our new arrival.”
Tim looked at him. “That’s fine with me. What about you, dude?”
Duke couldn’t remember the last time someone had made him homemade cookies. Maybe a couple years ago, back when his mother had been in remission last? He’d gotten to live with her for almost a whole year before her symptoms had returned and she’d gone back into residential psychiatric care.
“That sounds amazing,” he said, pushing the memories of his mom away for the time being.
“Alfred’s cookies are the best,” Cass promised. “Come on, we’ll show you.”
They led Duke through the hallways to a gigantic kitchen. It looked like something off of a Food Network TV show. The appliances were all spotless and state-of-the-art, and there was an herb garden nestled in the large bay window over by the breakfast nook. On the island in the center, a large platter of chocolate chip cookies waited for them. The smell wafting from it made his mouth water.
“Please, help yourself,” Alfred offered, gesturing to the platter. “Would you care for a beverage as well? I’d be happy to prepare some tea, or perhaps a glass of milk?”
“Milk would be perfect. Thank you,” Duke replied. Following Tim and Cass’s lead, he took a seat on one of the island’s stools and grabbed a cookie.
Cass didn’t lie. They were mind-blowing.
“This may be the best chocolate chip cookie I’ve ever eaten,” he moaned, his mouth full.
“Told you,” Cass said with a smirk.
“So, Duke, what do you like to do for fun?” Tim asked, taking a bite out of his own cookie.
Duke shrugged. “A little bit of everything. I’m really into movies, and I also read quite a bit. I like to skateboard, too.”
Tim’s face lit up. “Dude, I love to skateboard! Bruce even built a half-pipe in the backyard. I’ll have to show it to you later.”
“Really? That’s awesome!”
“The Manor has a library, too,” Tim continued. “That’s where Jason spends most of his free time. I’ll let him show you around once he gets back from his class. I don’t know if Bruce told you, but he’s working on his English major. He’s a legit literature nerd. I, on the other hand, much prefer our home theater.”
Damn. This house had a half-pipe, movie theater, and a whole-ass library? Duke was definitely going to like it here.
“I can’t wait to see it all. So everyone lives here except for Dick, right?”
Tim nodded. “Right. Dick has a lot of driving restrictions because of his head injury, so it’s better for him to live downtown closer to his job.”
“That makes sense,” Duke accepted. Bruce had told him all about his eldest’s trapeze accident. “Bruce gave me a binder outlining everyone’s medical conditions and what I need to know about them.”
“Oh my god, no he didn’t,” Tim groaned. “That man is way too much.”
“Careful, Master Timothy,” Alfred warned. He was currently washing dishes in the comically large sink. “I did help him prepare it, after all.”
“Honestly, I appreciate it,” Duke offered. “I like to know what I’m walking into. Besides, if someone ever needs help and I’m the only one around, I wanna know what to do.”
It was kinda nice, actually. In every home he’d ever been in, Duke had always been the only one with medical issues. He was looking forward to being in a place where he could be the one helping his housemates rather than it always being the other way around.
“I’ll bet Tim’s section was longest,” Cass snickered.
Tim rolled his eyes. “Thanks, sis.”
The girl wasn’t wrong. Other than seeing the movie Five Feet Apart, Duke hadn’t had much exposure to cystic fibrosis. Thankfully, Tim appeared to be in much better shape than the kids in that movie. According to the binder, treatment for CF patients had really improved in recent years.
“If it helps, Dick’s was pretty long, too.”
That actually did seem to lift the boy’s spirits a bit. “Yeah, he’s got a lot going on. Sometimes, if he gets a migraine, he’ll stop speaking English randomly. It’s wild. But he’s also one of the best people you’ll ever meet. He’s, like, sunshine incarnate.”
“Yeah, I kinda got that from the way Bruce talked about him. Though, he talked about all of you a lot. He really loves you guys.”
“He does,” Tim confirmed, “even if he’s a huge dork who struggles with personal boundaries. I can’t believe he made you a user manual. Actually, yes I can. It’s totally on brand for him.”
Duke cocked an eyebrow. “Did he tell you guys anything about me?”
Tim snorted. “Are you kidding? He sent us all a PowerPoint he made while sitting in the hospital with you.”
“He made a PowerPoint about me?”
“Oh yeah. It was titled, ‘Your New Foster Sibling and Everything You Need to Know About Sickle Cell.’”
Duke shook his head. “He asked for permission to share some of my story with you guys, but I never imagined I’d be made into a PowerPoint.”
“Like I said, he’s a huge dork who struggles with personal boundaries,” Tim shrugged. “But he means well. And he’d never intentionally violate your privacy or anything like that—unless, of course, there’s a medical emergency of some kind. Always gotta add that caveat around here.”
“Bruce is the best dad,” Cass assured. “You will like him.”
Duke felt a bittersweet sensation settle in his chest. “He seems pretty great. I, uh, barely remember my dad. He died when I was really little. It feels like it’s always been my mom and me.”
Tim’s face softened. “Bruce mentioned your mom was sick.”
“She’s schizophrenic,” Duke admitted, swallowing thickly. “About a year ago, her symptoms relapsed—it was the worst I’d ever seen her. Since then, she’s been in a long-term treatment facility. She has good days sometimes when she’ll be more lucid, but none of the treatments so far have been able to get her fully back into remission.”
Usually, he didn’t like to talk about his mom with his foster siblings. Most people wrote her off as crazy as soon as he said her diagnosis. But Bruce had assured him that no one would judge Duke or his mother because of her mental illness. After all, Damian struggled with OCD, and Jason had PTSD. Everyone in the family knew what it was like to love someone with a psychiatric disorder. So, Duke figured now was as good a time as any to test the waters.
Cass grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry. That must be really hard for you.”
Duke bit his lip. “It sucks. Because I love her so much, and when she’s well, she’s a great mom. The problem is, she hasn’t been well in a really long time.”
“Hopefully, the doctors will find something that works someday,” Tim offered. “And until they do, you’ll always have a place here.”
“Thanks, dude. I really hope this works out. My last foster family dumped me at the hospital because I was too sick for them. They’re not the first ones to decide I’m too much work, either.”
Tim clasped him on the shoulder. “Well, I’ll admit I don’t know a ton about sickle cell disease—beyond what was in the PowerPoint, of course—but you’re going to have a hard time scaring Bruce Wayne off. One time, he had to slit my throat open in the game room floor because a mucus plug got stuck in my windpipe.”
Duke’s eyes widened. What the fuck had he gotten himself into?