Chapter Text
“Alfred?” Bruce calls, surveying the dark halls of Wayne Manor. It’s barely six in the morning, and he’s used to his butler greeting him as soon as he returns from patrol. Today, the house is silent and illuminated only by pale dawn light.
“Alfred? Is everything alright?”
Just as Bruce starts to worry, Alfred rounds the corner in front of him.
“Ah, Master Bruce! I’m sorry I missed your arrival, but we have some… unexpected guests this morning.”
“Guests?”
“Yes. Ms. Gordon and another friend of yours are waiting with Master Dick in the dining room.”
“Another friend of mine? Why in the world is Dick with them?” Bruce asks, a note of urgency rising in his voice. Alfred is being more cryptic than usual, and it’s putting him on edge.
“He was insistent that he should greet the guests in your absence, and unfortunately outran my aging legs.” There’s a hint of a wry smile on the butler’s wrinkled face.
“Thank you for trying, Alfred,” Bruce says, knowing full well that he could have stopped Dick from intruding any time he wanted to.
“Shall we go greet your guests?”
Bruce isn’t dressed for company. He was prepared to take a long post-patrol nap in sweatpants and a t-shirt, but it’ll have to do. Hopefully, Babs and their mysterious friend can forgive him for looking a little messy this early in the morning. The hallways feel longer than usual on Bruce’s aching legs. It hadn’t been too difficult of a patrol, but it felt rougher than usual; like someone was giving Gotham’s thugs permission to hit a little harder than before. Bruce wonders absently as they make their way to the dining room whether there’s a reason for that or if he’s just imagining it. Every criminal in the city has good reason to take their hatred out on Batman. He shouldn’t be surprised at their viciousness.
“Master Bruce, your guests are in here,” Alfred says, gesturing to the dining room doors. “I’ll just be in the kitchen preparing breakfast.”
“Thank you, Alfred.”
Bruce takes a second to set his jaw before opening the double doors to find—
“Riddler?” He snaps, louder than he means to.
Barbara, Dick, and their mysterious friend, Gotham’s highest-profile asshole, turn to face him. He’s seen Edward Nygma a few times since the Harvester case. Since Egypt , he thinks. Barbara has asked him to assist on various cases, forming a tentative alliance. Bruce can’t help but remember the way the sun glinted off his faded orange curls in that Cairo restaurant.
“You found me.”
“You invited me.”
“Bruce!” Dick jumps up and startles Bruce from his thoughts. He’s grinning ear to ear as he runs into his adoptive father’s arms, talking so fast that Bruce can barely understand. “Ms. Barbara brought her friend Eddie to see you and he’s been teaching me tricks! Do you want to see? I know how to solve a Rubik’s Cube now, and I know some riddles, and now he’s showing me how to take things without people noticing, like this!” He holds up a shiny black pen.
“That’s mine!” Barbara is clearly trying to sound strict, but she can’t hold back gentle laughter.
“I didn’t know you had children, Bruce,” says Edward. He’s perched on the edge of a chair at the dining room table next to Barbara, fiddling with a Rubik’s Cube.
“Dick is adopted.” Bruce manages to keep his tone even and cool. “What are you two doing here so early?”
Barbara stands up from the table. She looks nervous, which is unusual. Barbara Gordon is not easily spooked.
“It’s quite the story,” Edward says before she can even open her mouth. “You might want to have a seat. Get comfortable!”
“Probably not… appropriate for the kid,” Barbara adds.
“Dick will be fine.” Bruce takes the boy’s hand and leads him to the table. Before sitting he kneels and whispers in his ear. “I know this is fun, Dick, but this is going to be a conversation about work. Can you be serious for a bit?”
The kid nods earnestly, dark curls bouncing like little springs. Warmth blooms in Bruce’s chest. “Thank you, Dick,” he murmurs, ruffling his hair.
Once Bruce is settled at the head of the table, Barbara sighs and begins.
“I was working last night, following a lead, and I…“ she trails off. Bruce notices a fresh bruise shining purple on her jaw. Dusky half-moons under her eyes betray the fact that Batgirl spent the whole of last night the same way he did; watching over the sleeping city.
“Someone jumped her. Knew where she’d be, Almost took her out.” Edward cuts in. “Bruised her up pretty bad. She came to me because all she managed to get a glimpse of were their outfits. A group of at least ten people, marked with some kind of strange symbol neither of us had seen before. Well-armed, faces covered.” He sounds almost angry, serious in a way Bruce hasn’t heard him sound before. “Anyway, we figured the Bat might have something to add to the case— you being such a skilled detective and all. Babs here even snuck me out of Arkham just to have breakfast at the manor!” The anger is gone, replaced by his usual sarcastic sing-song.
Bruce looks at Barbara, and she nods. “He’s right. I panicked. It’s only been, what, a few months? And they’re already targeting me.”
“Can you show me the symbol? Or describe it?”
Barbara pulls a sheet of paper from her pocket and holds out a hand to Dick. Sheepishly, he places the stolen pen in her palm, and she starts drawing. When she’s finished it looks nothing like the symbols Bruce recognizes from Gotham’s usual gangs and crime syndicates.
“It’s a bird, Bruce,” Dick whispers. Bruce shoots the boy a tiny smile.
“You’re right. It’s not a bird I recognize, though. Do you?” He looks at Barbara, then Edward.
Barbara shakes her head, but Edward raises an eyebrow and says, “Bleeding from my breast, though I’ve not been hurt, watched to herald life’s return to barren dirt.”
Bruce can’t help but place a protective hand on the back of Dick’s chair. “A robin.”
“I thought so. I’d hope there’s no connection, but…” Edward’s eyebrows furrow. “Perhaps they’re going after your loved ones. They don’t care about the Batgirl or your little sidekick, they care about you.”
“No. He’s not even twelve years old. They couldn’t .” Barbara shakes her head. Dick shifts uncomfortably, eyes darting back and forth from Edward to Bruce.
Edward giggles. “I can’t believe you haven’t learned your lesson yet. The people in this city are shameless! I would know.” He looks at Dick. “Not that I’d ever hurt you, kid. But there are certainly people who would.”
Bruce doesn’t know whether to be relieved or upset by this newfound affection between his adopted son and the Riddler. There are bigger problems to solve at the moment, so he pushes it to the back of his mind.
---
The four of them sit in tired silence until Alfred emerges from the kitchen balancing a tower of platters and bowls.
“I assumed you’d all be dining with us, as it’s quite early,” he says, unloading each dish onto the table. “Master Dick, as you so kindly requested, I’ve made blueberry pancakes.”
Bruce smiles despite the somber mood, suddenly very glad that he asked Dick to stay. He’d hate to eat blueberry pancakes alone with Babs and the Riddler, exhausted and afraid after the bomb they’d just dropped.
“Bruce?” Dick asks between bites of pancake. “What do we do now?”
“Well, Dick, I think we should all get some rest.” He tries to sound reassuring, but it comes out strained.
“I don’t want to rest, I just woke up! I think we should set a trap. Right, Ms. Barbara?”
Edward and Barbara both smile at that, looking up from their plates. Edward has tucked into his pancakes with gusto, drenching them in syrup. It’s not lost on Bruce that Dick does the exact same thing.
“Once Barbara and I have a chance to rest we can do some research together, but we’re not going to get anything done until then,” Bruce says. “And you’ll be working hard at your lessons, just like every other day.”
Dick groans and pouts at his pancakes. “You’re not going to leave me out just because their symbol was a robin, right? I promise I can be careful!”
“The safest place you can be is at my side, Dick,” Bruce says. He’s sure of that, at least, and the boy offers him a tiny smile in return.
Bruce turns to address the rest of them. “I think it will be safer for everyone if you don’t leave the Manor just yet. There’s plenty of room for everyone while we sort this out. Especially you, Babs. You’re in no shape to be alone.”
Edward’s eyes widen at that. “You didn’t really mean to extend that invitation to me , did you? I was under the impression that Alfred wasn’t terribly happy with my presence here, and I do believe that he runs this household. No offense!”
“None taken, though I don’t believe that you ever truly don’t mean to offend. And yes, I did mean you. I might not have been pleased that Barbara brought you into our home, but I trust her judgment.” Bruce sighs. “I’ve also noticed that Dick… rather enjoys your presence. Try not to turn my son into a criminal, Nygma.”
Edward and Dick both smile at that.