Bruce Wayne Is A Good Parent - Tumblr Posts

Yes, this chapter is intentionally short. Yes, there will be multiple parts. No, I don’t know how to turn comments on. Yes, you can put in an ask for me to add you to my tag list for this story. Please, tell me how to turn comments on.

Warnings: mentions of trafficking (I swear nothing terrible happens)

Over and Under the Bazaar

The kingdom of Gotham was a cruel one. Crime was higher than any neighboring kingdom and the area so large that the King’s feeble attempts to stop it never made it past Bristole. Trash and human remains littered every sandy corner, only lingering there for a day before ‘grave robbers’ came in and snatched it up, another soon taking its place. Starvation was ever so common and took the lives of many civilians, most being children whose mothers could no longer feed them. Many fathers left after the mother died and their children were left to rot and fight to survive from ages as young as 6.

The hot air was almost never ending, only taking its break during the late night, when no sane soul would dare to step out.

It is for this reason that the night was the best time for any with malicious intent to strike. This fact was as well known as any, a common knowledge for any wishing to prevent the thievery of their market goods. Merchants would lock up shop and inventory the second the air turned too cool to sweat at. This time proved not only dangerous for anyone wishing to make a profit but also those at the bottom of the chain.

Thieves, street scum, prostitutes, and every other name you could think of for someone who had no other wish but survival. This was the unfortunate case for a young boy named Jason Todd, who walked with only his name and the clothes on his back.

Yet he walked with purpose, nearly bare feet not hesitating on the burning sand of the bazaar. Though it was still early in the day, he had prolonged his hunger for far too long and could not longer wait to snatch a meal, however small it would be. Sweat and grime dug into his skin, arms and legs wavering with heat and exhaustion.

He wished he could feel the cool air on his face, gently brushing through his tangled hair. Alas, the hood and robe he wore must not come off. If it were to show even the smallest sliver of his face, he’d be immediately caught by the king’s corrupt guard, and who knows what would happen then.

As people walked past him, he ducked between the stands selling fabric, the intricately woven cloth hiding his features from any wandering eyes. Before he moved on to duck through the next strand, he slipped a short square of cloth off the stand and tucked it into his waist band, unnoticed by the distracted merchant.

He passed through several more tables, not taking anything else but a ring from a jewelry stand which he could pawn later. He was focused and determined to reach his end goal. His eyes narrowed as he found the stand he was looking for.

It wasn’t much to anyone who looked with only their eyes. Nearly stale bread, apples needing to be sold before they rot, eggs with yolkes so pale you could mistake it for foggy glass. Overall, nothing to behold and instead something to quickly walk past before the merchant tried to talk to you.

However, Jason did not just look with his eyes but with his stomach also. The pale eggs seemed rich and golden to him, the apples seeming ever so ripe and perfect. He wanted ever so badly to just sprint there and start shoving things in his mouth. To just taste even a drop of the juicy apple or the thick yolk of the egg. Though, he knew he couldn’t. He’d be caught no sooner than he could swallow. He had to plan this out carefully.

Ever so gently, he stood to his feet from his position on the floor and walked innocently to the rotten stand. The merchant noticed him instantly and grinned, being so new to the market he couldn’t tell the difference between the appearance of a customer and that of a thief. The man spoke first, excitement at the thought of selling his stock seeping into his voice

“Well, hungry are you? I imagine you’ll find lots to want here, boy. Please, do take and look and consider your purchase.”

His smile was all rotten teeth, dark yellow and corroded from years of neglect and it took everything in Jason to not let the grimace show in his expression.

“I wasn’t looking to buy anything, sir.” The gotham drawl sunk deep into his voice, “just wanted to know if you’re the man people are talking about”

At this, the merchant was confused, making hand gestures that urged Jason to elaborate, so he did, continuing to speak with his eyes wide and innocent.

“Aren’t you the guy who’s wife has been with every woman in the market? I just saw her going off with the fresh fish merchant and I wanted to know if it was you”

The mans face immediately split into rage before he yelled his curses and stomped off, eager to find the man sleeping with his face. He absence left Jason the perfect opening to take what he wished from the stand. Any merchant worth his salt would have seen through the trick and called the king’s knights on him. But this man was new, so new that any other merchant that overheard dared not to interfere, not wanting to have any ties to the foolish man.

Jason stuffed his pockets full of old bread and cheese, slipping an apple into his mouth and biting into it to keep it in place. He took a handful of blueberries, the only perfect thing on the stand, and wrapped it in the cloth his stole earlier, slipping into his pocket.It would definitely hold him over for another week as long as he was careful to ration it.

Quickly after this, Jason safely departed to his hideout, ready to hide away the food until it was needed. His slipped the hood off his head and put a skip in his walk. Wasn’t it perfect today? Free food and he didn’t even get caught!

.

At this moment, Jason would like to go out and make a public statement that it was not his fault he jinxed himself and that he would like to publicly apologize to anyone who took his earlier celebration as a threat.

Currently, Jason was cornered between an alley wall and a gang of 5 burly men, each holding either a knife or net. Trafficking was unfortunately common in Crime Alley and apparently, these men saw Jason as the perfect fit for whatever they wanted from him. The apple had long since fallen out of his mouth when he began running from the men. He would have gone back to pick it up but the men were gaining on him and he was forced to keep running.

This worked against him though as his focus remained on his lost apple and he unknowingly cornered himself by running into an alleyway far from anyone that could help him. The men themselves were fairly large but also young, wearing thick, hooded cloaks that shielded their eyes from the harsh sun. The two men with the curved knives were moving in front of the others, arms outstretched to grab him as the men behind kept the net steady. Jason tensed, his tightened fists digging his nails into his palms.

“C’mere kid. You don’ gotta make this hard. If you’re one of ‘em lucky ones, you might even get a rich fella. Ain’t that nice?”

“Fuck you!” Jason snarled

The man Jason supposed to be their leader, strung in tattoos, barked out a laugh.

“Well, that wasn’t ‘ery kind, was it?”

“Neither is this!”

Wide blue eyes darted around the alley, searching for any possible way of escape as he racked his brain for ideas. When Jason came up empty, he swore under his breath and switched to the last thing he could think of. Was it stupid? Incredibly. Was it more likely to get him killed? Oh, absolutely. Was he gonna do it anyway? Of course he is.

“I don’t think you wanna do that, mister”

The man poorly crafted sincere expression crumbled into confusion before spreading into amusement, the other men following suit.

“Yeah? And why do ya say that, kid? What, you gonna call for your mommy? Gonna tell her to save ya from the big, bad man?”

They all split into laughter, some finding it so humorous that they nearly dropped onto the floor in a mix of laughter and coughing. Jason felt the dread rise into his throat, gripping his airways in a manner that made him want to claw at his chest until he could breathe normally again. Tears fought at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill as his voice suddenly felt too weak to form strong and confident sentences. His false bravado was gone and he could only do so much to salvage his escape attempt.

“Because my dad- is uh- my dad is the bat! Yeah, he’s Batman! So- unless you wanna- you wanna mess with him, you better leave me alone!”

It didn’t seem like it was possible for the men to be laughing any harder.

“Yeah, kid?” The man spoke between his wheezes “your papa gonna hurt us? The bat is your daddy, huh?”

This was it. Jason was going to be caught. He spent so long surviving on the streets just to get caught trying to eat breakfast.

What else could he do? They’d catch him, tie him down, and sell him to whatever buyer put a bid worthy of a dirty, street rat. No, he couldn’t. He- he didn’t want this, no

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?”

The voice came from above the alleyway, Jason and the men looking up to see who it came from. The voice light but firm all the same, laced in a facade of joy with a nearly blinding smile, something dark beneath it.

Nightwing, Bludhaven’s knight.

The men stuttered backward, only the foolish man in front standing ground.

“It’s none of ya business, ya damn bird. What, you tryin to meddle in our matters? Stay the hell out of it!” He barked, hands shaking despite his tone.

“I think it is seeing how that’s my brother you’re cornering”

The blue and black bat swept down and jumped straight into combat with the other men.

A bit of hope swelled in Jason’s heart before dying out as soon as it came.

Nightwing only hurt bad guys, like murderers and traffickers.

And thieves.

No

No, he was playing along-

Which meant that he was gonna take Jason too.

The people he would be sold would be terrible, vile in every way for even thinking about buying a child for personal pleasure, let alone actually doing it.

But Nightwing? He would play a show of being his brother to save him then take Jason for himself. All the bats were scary. They were also huge and could easily overpower him, not like that was hard to do.

Maybe

Maybe he could slip away while they fought? Find a way to climb onto the out-of-reach fire escape…

Jason could barely debate this before the fight was over, Nightwing victorious. The bat turned to Jason and approached cautiously, he stance held at a light crouch and relaxed, seemingly trying not to intimidate the young boy.

“Hey kid. You alright? Did they do anything? Where are your parents? Are they around here somewhere” the man looked around, as if attempting to search for them

Or checking for witnesses

The questions barely registered in his mind as the tears he’d been trying to hard to push down finally slipped out, streaming in waterfalls down his face. The heavy tears washed through the dirt on his face as Nightwing turned back and panicked.

“Woah, kid. It’s okay, they can’t hurt you anymore, I promise” the man kneeled down to Jason’s level and out his hands on the other’s shoulders, attempting to ground him “they’re, uh, asleep. You don’t have to cry”

The touch could barely make him flinch as the horror flashing across his face, every coherent thought turning into pleading babbles.

“Please-please, I’m sorry. What- whatever it is, im so sorry- no, no no - stop- please” his breath was coming in short gasps,“im sorry- sorry sorry- don’t do it- please - don’t you- don’t do it. I’ll leave and- and I’ll never come back”

It was like Nightwing’s face shuttered, flashing between so many different expressions before settling on one of sympathy.

“No, no kid. Nothing is going to happen, I-“ he took a deep breath. “Breathe for a second. What’s your name?”

His name?

His name. He wanted his name, he could do that.

“Jason”

“Jason, no one is going to hurt you, okay? No one will touch you. I’m just going to call some nice knights to find your parents okay? You’ll be back home in no time, I swear”

No, no.

Nightwing wasn’t going to take him for himself, he was going to hand him over.

To the corrupt knights of Gotham.

The ones who paid the kids on street corners and took them away for a night.

The ones who arrested innocents just for being good looking so they could get time with them.

The ones who had sold his mother the drugs that got her killed.

He couldn’t, no, he wouldn’t.

As soon as Nightwing got up and took his hands off him, Jason booked it across the alleyway, took a sharp turn, and ran.

Ran till he could hide from the ones whose eyes watched Gotham.

Inspired by this post here!

TW: Threats of violence (literally like one kicky boi happens)

Little Dick Grayson, his new ward, was staring at Bruce as he exited the clock in his study. The little boy sat in his large, black swivel chair and stared at him as he awkwardly shuffled out of the secret entrance. Bruce was pretty sure that 3 am was much too late??? early??? for little boys to be awake. (But how would he know, it's not like he slept much at Dick's age).

Bruce froze, wide-eyed and blinking at his ward. Dick continued to stare at him. After a moment of tense silence, Dick spoke, accusingly, "I know your secret."

The way Dick said it, so accusingly, made Bruce panic. Oh God, he knew it was a bad idea to take in a human ward. He didn't know jackshit about humans!

The only human he regularly saw on a day to day basis was Alfred, who was hired specifically for his discretion on other worldly matters. Alfred had known Bruce for the last forty-five years and was used to his nature but Dick? Dick was a normal ten-year-old human boy. All he knew about vampires probably came from media. Dick was probably afraid of Bruce!

Bruce should have been more careful. He knew that his ward was aware that he didn't sleep most nights but he also thought Dick had assumed he was sleeping during the day! In hindsight, not knowing what human children ate was probably obvious (how was Bruce supposed to know that ten-year-old humans were beyond infant food?) But still! Bruce even ate in front of Dick once to keep up the ruse (Sure, Alfred informed him that eating a whole, raw potato in three bites was strange but the thought count!)

Bruce winced at the tiny human's accusation. Maybe if he said it before Dick could say it, Dick would be less mad?

"I'm a vampire!""You're Batman!"

Bruce and Dick blinked owlishly at each other. Mentally, Bruce was relieved. His ward, who was so very smart, had obviously known about his demonic nature (it was very obvious in hindsight) but had been inquiring of his alternate identity. Bruce could have laughed of relief. His boy wasn't vampphobic, he simply was peeved that Bruce left the house at odd times of night to fight crime without telling him.

Bruce smiled brightly at his little boy (who looked mildly perturbed about the smile), "You're a smart one, chum! I'm Batman!"

Bruce was happy. His ward, who he was beginning to care for very deeply, now knew every side of him. Everything was going perfectly.

-

Everything was not going perfectly.

In the twelve years following his acquisition of Dick, Bruce had acquired seven more children (five legally, one biologically (with some overlap), and two only emotionally).

Bruce was proud of each and every one of his children. He was thrilled to get to watch them grow into caring, respectful people with their own individual goals and ambitions. He was proud of how they handled themselves but, in the moment, Bruce was not proud of how they were acting.

"C'mon, Demon Spawn, get it back!" taunted Jason as he held Damian's prized katana over his head.

Damian and Tim had gotten into another one of their brawls, with Tim making a snide remark or two and Damian rising to the bait as always. Damian had ended up pulling his sword on Tim, hellbent on making his brother see his point. The two ended up trading blows, Tim with his staff and Damian with his sword, until Jason had come over and plucked Damian's katana out of his grasp with his thick gloves.

Now, Jason and Steph, who was Tim's self-declared best friend and therefore also on his side, were playing a dangerous game of keep away with Damian. They continued to taunt and tease an increasingly frustrated Damian while Tim stood laughing in the background.

Bruce knew his youngest son and could tell that he was seconds away crying, if the reddening of his cheeks and wobbling of his jaw wasn't enough, Damian was also wiping at his eyes when he thought his siblings couldn't see.

Bruce felt frustrated with his kids. Yes, he knew that Damian could be abrasive sometimes but he was just a baby. Everybody knew that vampires didn't reach adulthood until about forty and, as a ten-year-old, Damian was especially immature. While he may look like a human child of that age, he still was much worse at self-regulating and needed much more affection than his human counterpart. He knew that his human children sometimes forgot that fact and other facts about vampires (like the fact that vampire children play fight like puppies and that they really shouldn't be making Damian's games so heated and personal with slurs).

Bruce normally tried to let his children stop fighting by themselves but another sing-songy shout of "I got your swooord, Demon Brat!" pushed Bruce to his limit. He stood up and slammed down his case file, ready to yell at his kids when Dick and Barbara burst in.

"We figured out what that new gang is doing!" shouted Dick, in full Nightwing regalia, as he pushed Barbara into the cave at frightening speeds.

The sudden entrance of the two with information on a case prompted the fight to end (which, while Bruce appreciated, he knew he still needed to talk to his kid's again about not using language like that).

Jason, who had ended with the katana, dropped the weapon on the couch before sauntering over to join Dick and Barbara. "What'chu got?" he asked the two of them.

The rest of the Bats moved closer, trying to listen to the intel. Barbara pushed her glasses up, like she did when she had a particularly interesting fact to tell someone about blood spatter. "These guys are kind of crazy but apparently they're legit, I double checked what they do with John Constantine."

Bruce was intrigued. A gang involved in magic that John said was legit could be dangerous for Gotham. "What are they doing?" he asked, prompting Barbara to continue.

Barbara smiled and cleared her throat and continued to read the report, "They all wear high-neck guards and silver crosses on their person," Bruce didn't love that sound of that. It sounded almost like- "And they carry around the cloves and flowers of garlic and holy water!" Bruce felt something inside himself go cold. Damian, who standing beside him, scooched himself under his father's clock and Bruce squeezed him tight. "Most notably, they all carry around wooden stakes and enough lighter fluid and lighters for a Fourth of July party!" Bruce's horrible suspicion was confirmed. Vampire hunters.

The practice was archaic but there were still people who thought that vampires were dangers to society and decided to hunt them down like animals. Bruce knew that Gotham had, at one point, been the home to the largest coven of vampires in the world. Vampire hunters where the reason that that coven no longer existed. They were the reason that Bruce's parents had died when he was still a child. Bruce hated vampire hunters and now they were actively trying to gain footing in his city.

Bruce's mouth felt drier than it had felt during the two years he had spent without drinking. In his arms, Damian was shaking; terrified. Bruce squeezed his son closer and nuzzled his hair before looking up and clarifying, "John said they were legit?" His voice sounded gravely even to his ear and he prayed that maybe he had somehow misunderstood what Barbara had said. He hoped that they weren't actually vampire hunters.

Barbara looked puzzled, "Yeah, that's what I said. Bruce, what's wrong?" 'What's wrong?' she asked, as if Bruce's city wasn't being invaded by the only force he couldn't stop. The only force he couldn't protect his family from.

Jason snorted, "Ain't this a good thing? These guys can take care of vamps for us so they ain't our problem." Bruce's other human children made noises of agreement and Bruce, who had foolishly thought he was scared a few seconds before, was terrified.

Bruce clutched Damian to his chest and stumbled a few steps back, folding himself over Damian and turn his back to the threat, away from the children he loved who would see him destroyed. He saw, from his inhumanely large peripheral, Dick, who he had stupidly assumed would never begrudge him for his nature, take a step forward and hesitantly reached out his hand. Bruce narrowed his eyes and turned his face toward him to hiss and extend his fangs out in a clear threat.

"Bruce," Dick said, stepping closer, "We didn't realize vampires had gotten to you. We can fix this, we didn't mean you. Just give us Damian and we can help you." Bruce, who had started to calm himself at his son's soothing tone, panicked again when he heard the rest of his son's offer. They wanted Damian.

Bruce had known that Damian and his other children didn't always get along. He had seen the angry looks and heard the biting words (he had, after all, lectured them time and time again about not using vampire slurs against their brother). But most of the remarks had been calling him 'Demon Spawn' or 'Hell Child', so Bruce thought they were mostly focusing some of their vampire fear on him. He had thought the angry looks were jealousy at the attention that Damian received; he thought they were jealous the way kids with new baby siblings were always jealous, mad they got less attention but also understanding it was needed by the baby.

Bruce hadn't realized how deep this vitriol and hate ran. He didn't expect them to take the first vampire hunters to come around as an opportunity to get rid of their baby brother. Bruce loved his human children and could never hurt them but Damian was a baby. Bruce would not let them hurt him due to misguided anger.

Bruce stood up and shoved Damian behind him. He spread his cape wide to hide Damian from their sight and make himself appear bigger. Bruce bared his fangs at his children and screeched like the bat he was named for.

His human children (his little babies) pulled out their weapons. They were his children and they were always prepared (if they were his children, why hadn't he noticed their bigotry?). Dick's escrima sticks crackled ominously, Jason cocked one of his guns, Tim and Steph readied their bo staffs, back-to-back, and Barbara whipped out a Glock.

Bruce wasn't immortal. No being could be. Sure, he had a longer life span and sure, without wooden stakes, it was harder to kill him than the average person. But Bruce was very much not immortal. Normally, when Bruce fought against an ally there was some button to destroy or some foe to subdue for the fight to stop. His children right now where clear-headed. This is what they thought was best. He had been unknowingly allowing this anti-vampire sentiment to fester in his home and now he was paying the price.

He looked back at his little boy, his Damian. When his son met his gaze, his green eyes where filled with tears and his face was red and blotchy. His son looked scared. Bruce knew, in that moment, that allowing his other children to kill him so that Damian could escape was the right choice. He understood what his parents had done that day decades ago.

He smiled at Damian and his brave little boy gave him a wobbly smile back. 'Go' he mouthed at Damian and Damian's face fell. Damian lunged forward, into Bruce's back, and gave him a crushing hug. Then Damian rocked back, his face determined and nodded. Bruce smiled at his son one last time before launching himself forward at his waiting and deadly children.

Bruce was immediately met with force. He tried to keep himself and the cape big to cover Damian's escape. Right away, he was dodging the crackling electricity of Dick's escrima sticks but, as he dodged a hit to his right shoulder, he was immediately met with a bo staff inches from his face. He grabbed the staff and forced it down, throwing Stephanie over his left shoulder and into the couch.

The time it took to launch Stephanie at the furniture, allowed Dick to get a good and painful jab onto his leg. His leg seized and, as he arched away from the pain, he saw Jason, who he had assumed was staying out of the fight due to the dangers of a gun in such small quarters, chasing after Damian.

Bruce felt his eyes widen and, in his distraction, Dick and Tim wrestled both of his arms behind his back. Bruce lunged forward and screamed, falling to his knees in his desperation. "Leave him alone!" he all but shrieked, "Don't hurt him! Please, Jason! Jason, I know you don't like our kind just-" Bruce's voice broke. This was so fucked up. He was begging his one son for the life of his other, "Please." he begged.

The hands restraining him let him go and Bruce slumped forward and watched as Jason dragged Damian, kicking and screaming forward. When Damian saw Bruce, his eyes lit up and, though he still looked scared, he tugged even more forcefully toward Bruce. Jason let him go and Damian hurled himself into Bruce's waiting arms.

Bruce squeezed his boy tight, enveloping them in his cloak and crying into Damian's hair. He had failed. He had failed and now they would both die. At least Damian was going to be awarded this one last comfort.

"Hey, Bruce?" said Jason in a soft and kind (?) voice a few steps away. Bruce looked up, pressing Damian's face into his chest. "I feel like we're missing something," continued Jason.

Dick and Tim had, at some point, moved from behind Bruce to next to their brother, a few feet in front of Bruce. Dick nodded empathetically, "We thought, when you grabbed Damian, that you were trying to hurt him or hold him hostage or something? Because you got turned into a vampire? But then you tried to act as a diversion for his escape and Damian looked terrified just now when Jason had him so... What's going on?"

Bruce, who's brain still felt foggy from the whole my-children-want-to-kill-me-and-their-brother thing and even more so now that they had done a complete one eighty, just blinked up at Dick and the rest of his present children, who had all crowded around him as he talked. Dick blinked at him. Bruce blinked again before shaking his head, "I'm a vampire?" he said, phrasing it like a question.

Jason, who had looked guilty the entire time, let out a barked, slightly hysterical laugh, "We gathered that. But you seemed so normal, since when?"

Bruce was feeling that floating, dissociat-y feeling again and blinked rapidly before answering, "Uh, since I was-" his tongue felt too big for his mouth "born, so like the last fifty-seven years."

The cave was silent for a brief moment. The bats were screeching and Bruce could here the muffled, hiccuping cries of Damian into his chest. All of his kids were staring at him and then it became pandemonium. "The whole-""-didn't tell me!""-never would have-""-in retrospect-""-mean, holy secrets, Batman!"

Damian, who has picked up on the fact that he was no longer going to be actively murdered, also poked his head out of the cape to whisper in a cupped hand next to Bruce's ear, "They are rather slow, aren't they Father?"

That did it for Bruce. The combination of stress from the vampire hunters, betrayel from what he thought his kids wanted, and whiplash from the fact that his kids didn't know made Bruce cackle. He started laughing, somewhat hysterically, at the fact that somehow, for the last twelve or so years, none of his kids, some of best detectives in the world, had realized he was a vampire.

His kids, who had still been throwing questions at him and each other, quieted. Bruce laughed and forced himself to calm down to address his concerned looking kids and the little one poking his cheek in worry. "Sorry, sorry" he gasped for air "But how?" he asked.

Tim, who still looked concerned for his father's sanity, ventured forward to ask, "What do you mean?"

Bruce gasped again before asking, "How did none of you figure out I was a vampire, my whole bat thing? My entire aesthetic? How did none of that tip you off?" Bruce rose to his feet, his chest still hitching, and he slung Damian to his hip as he asked.

His kids ventured to look at each other before Barbara answered, "I met you like elevenish years ago, back then you were super mopey. I thought-" she interrupted herself, clearly embarrassed to continue before whispering, "you were emo??"

Dick nodded along, "Yeah, on the same vein of what Babs is saying. I mean, back then I just figured you were weird. I mean you ate a whole, raw potato once. So I just figured the whole dark aesthetic and light-aversion thing you had going on was just another quirk or maybe you didn't know what sun screen was," Bruce herded his children to the couch as Dick talked. "I got used to it eventually so I figured stuff like that was just Bruce™ things."

All of the kids collapsed on the couch and Bruce followed, with a clingy Damian still on his chest. They were all emotionally exhausted from what had just happened but they needed to have that talk. Dick mentioning the potato thing reminded Bruce, "Did none of you notice the fact that I don't eat food?" he asked, quirking a brow.

All of his children seemed to think, trying to remember a time when Bruce had eaten and apparently coming up blank. Jason shrugged, "I guess I assumed it was a workhokic rich boy thing, Timmy here don't eat either."

He leaned over to give Tim a half-hearted noogie and Tim shoved him off before adding, "No, I have seen you drink before. I-" Tim looked like he really didn't want to ask.

Bruce, good father that he is, spared his son from asking, "Those were blood packs," he says.

That gets a bit of reaction from his kids, several noises of disgust and Steph loudly complaining "I thought the Capri-Suns had gone bad! Noooo, it was blood!" However, they see Damian tense on Bruce's lap and quickly go quiet again.

Babs breaks the silence. "You were trying to protect Damian from us. Is he..?" She tried to ask it delicately but her curiosity for the unknown showed through.

Bruce nods, "Damian is a full blooded vampire, the League of Assassins is one of the most infamous vampire covens on the globe." Babs nods thoughtfully, absorbing the new information. Bruce knows that tomorrow, when the news is less fresh and Bruce is less tense, Babs will be asking all about vampire development and Bruce will be happy to indulge her, just not now.

Damian had started scanning his siblings' faces when he had become the subject of the conversation. For the first time since his siblings had started playing keep-away, Damian started to relax. He doesn't seem totally satisfied with the conversation wrapping up and he puffs out his cheeks a bit before asking, "Were you not calling me 'Demon Brat' and other slurs due to my vampire nature?" He looks geniuenly perplexed, like he couldn't picture any other reason for such mean spirited names. Now that Bruce can see that the nicknames were affectionate sibling ribbing, Bruce is heartbroken for his youngest son.

Based on the looks on everyone else's face, they feel the same. He can see that Dick is itching to go over to Damian and pepper his face with kisses to make his frown go away but this isn't Dick's apology.

Surprisingly, it's Tim who gets off the couch and kneels in front of Damian, who's perched on Bruce's knee. Damian had always antagonized Tim because, as the brother closest to his age, he was his most viable playmate for roughhousing. Often, the two went too far and Bruce knew that, while Tim loved Damian, he didn't always like him. Tim looked Damian right in the eye and said, "I am sorry. If anyone ever calls you something like that again, including me, you have every right to hit them with your katana." Maybe that wasn't the best message to tell a ten-year-old raised by assassins but it was what Damian needed to hear.

Jason, who loves to use insults as endearments and had therefore been one of the greatest offenders, slid of the couch and said, "I'm sorry for ever sayin' that shit" Damian gasped in delight, at the bad word more than the apology, "and if anyone talks shit again to you, tell 'em Red Hood'll get 'em." Bruce could see the remorse written clearly in the faces of Tim, Jason, and Steph as they hugged Damian and Bruce was proud. Maybe he hadn't failed as badly as he thought.

After talking for a bit longer, Bruce carried a sleeping Damian out of the cave and decided he would join his son and take a short hibernation in his nest in his room (seriously, he had a nest, how had his kids not suspected anything) Tomorrow, Bruce would be calling Cassandra to make sure she knew that she was a vampire and talking to Duke to make sure he knew that only vampires started to turn to ash in sunlight. Tomorrow, Bruce would be making a one hundred-twelve slide power point on the finer parts of vampire culture to show his children and ensure they were well educated. Tonight, Bruce was going to cuddle his son and calm himself down in his comfy nest

(Tonight, the bats and birds would fly and take care of the threat to their family and, tomorrow, if there were a few more bags of blood for Bruce, who could say?)