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Bruce fucked up. Why did he think this was a good idea again? Oh, right. He didn't. Alfred and the kids ganged up on him and forced him to socialise with his coworkers. Well, now look where that got him. He was drunk in his futile attempt to keep pace with literal superhumans and barely managed to maintain a sober facade. Or at least he thought he looked sober. Bruce had ample experience in pretending to be drunk but he hasn't tried to pretend to be sober since he was a teen and really wasn't quite sure if he was managing. At least no one has called him out on it yet.
"I'm glad you were able to join us tonight, Batman,” Diana told him with a kind smile. She didn’t look even the slightest bit tipsy despite the amazonian mead she has been drinking all evening. Bruce had counted and knew that she had at least seven pints so either the mead wasn’t strong by amazonian standards or Diana had an excellent tolerance even among Amazons.
“Hn,” Bruce grunted and took another sip of his whiskey.
Diana continued, undeterred by Bruce’s reticence. “Though I must ask what changed your mind on the matter.”
Bruce stared at her and answered without thinking. "The kids forced me to come."
"The kids?" Clark inquired curiously. He'd usually hide it with a bit more tact but it seemed like the specially curated alcohol was getting to him too.
"Yes. Nightwing heard about the get-together and hatched a plan with his siblings along with my... father to force me to come," Bruce uncharacteristically elaborated. He downed his whiskey and nibbled on a slice of apple. Alfred has been getting on his case about eating more fruits and drinking less coffee which was rude because he didn’t drink as much coffee as Tim and had a perfectly well-balanced diet. Alfred should know. He was the one that prepared his meals.
Barry refilled Batman's glass and blinked in surprise when Batman thanked him politely. Wow, usually you were lucky if you got the 'I see you have done something nice for me and this is me acknowledging it' grunt.
"Nightwing has siblings? I didn't know that. Scratch that, Nightwing and his siblings know your father?" Hal gasped.
The rest of the steadily getting drunker Justice League blinked in surprise at the revelation.
Bruce blinked for a different reason. Alcohol has always made him sleepy. “Of course they know him, he helped raise them.”
A drunk Barry grabbed Bruce’s gloved hand with two of his own and a drunk Bruce allowed it. “Batman. Your father helped raise Nightwing and his siblings? Does that mean Nightwing is your brother? I always thought you were an only child.”
“I am an only child.” Bruce eyed Barry and shoved an apple into his mouth. The speedster must be hungry if he was asking stupider than usual questions. Bruce so obviously gave off only child vibes that even the blind could see it.
Barry blankly chewed on the apple, too surprised to do anything else. Bruce shoved another slice in before he could say anything stupid.
“If you’re an only child, why’s your dad raising Nightwing and his siblings?” Arthur slurred out.
Bruce blinked. “He’s their grandfather.”
There was a pause wherein the only sound in the room came from Bruce munching on a slice of apple like a rabbit. Diana mentally screenshotted the image. It was very cute, especially coming from the big bad Batman.
Diana chuckled. “That’s a really roundabout way of saying Nightwing is your son, Batman.”
“I didn’t say that,” Bruce denied. It was supposed to be a secret. Of course, he didn’t say that. Bruce didn’t spill secrets. He was the best secret keeper in the world.
“But your dad is Nightwing’s grandpa so that must mean that Nightwing is your kid. That’s how it works, right? Diana?” Clark drunkenly asked.
Diana fondly ruffled Clark’s hair. “That is indeed how it works.”
“It is entirely possible that my father adopted Nightwing as his grandson without my involvement.” Bruce mentally pat himself on the back. It was a sound argument and not at all like a drunk man’s feeble attempts at diversion. Bruce was acing this.
“Yeah, but you said he helped raise them so that implies that you were also involved in the act of raising the kids.”
Bruce scowled. Since when did Hal Jordan use his brain? “Does not.”
“Does too.”
“Does not.”
“Does too.”
“Does not.”
“Does too.”
“You’re drunk and imagining things.”
“I think you’re drunk and spilling secrets.”
“No, I’m not,” Bruce lied.
“Yes, you are.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.” Bruce was starting to get annoyed at Hal. He briefly entertained the idea of tranquillizing him.
“You’ve got an evil look on your face. You’re not thinking of silencing me, are you?”
Bruce sucked his lips in. “Why do you only use your brain to inconvenience me?”
“You were actually planning on silencing me!”
Bruce popped a cube of cheese into his mouth to buy himself some time to think. “Prove it.”
“You basically just admitted to it!”
“No, no, Hal. Batman didn’t admit to anything. You’re just accusing him based on vibes and vibes alone,” Barry drunkenly came to his defence. Bruce was grateful but he could have done without the clumsy pats on his arm. He’d gotten a big bruise there yesterday and it still hurt.
“He’s got evil mastermind vibes and you know it.”
“Don’t be rude to Batman, Hal. He is a great warrior and tactician,” Diana scolded.
“Yeah, Jordan. Don’t be rude to me,” Bruce smugly echoed.
Hal looked gobsmacked and Bruce nibbled on a cracker obnoxiously in victory.
“Your distraction tactics did not work, Batman.” Arthur pointed a finger at him. He paused for a second to take a swig at his beer. “We know your secret. You’re a dad! Nightwing’s dad!”
Bruce’s lips tightened into a thin line. “Nightwing is from Bludhaven.”
“Bludhaven is Gotham’s sister city and since you already claimed Gotham, he must have moved to Bludhaven to be a hero!”
Bruce considered investigating the effects of alcohol on his teammates. They seemed to use their brain cells more when drunk. “That’s speculation.” In truth, Dick moved out because he was mad at Bruce and maybe Arthur was a tiny itty bitsy bit right as well.
A voice cackled over the Watchtower’s speaker system. “Okay, this is just getting sad. It’s okay to admit it, B. The rule’s stupid anyway.”
“Hood? Aren’t you supposed to be patrolling?” Bruce asked before the drunk JL members could get alarmed by the sudden voice of the well-known drug lord, Red Hood.
“I am but you told us to listen in to your comm in case you said anything incriminating.”
“Hn.”
“You forgot, didn’t you? You totally forgot,” Jason accused with amusement in his voice.
“... Noooo…”
“That was the shittiest lie I’ve ever heard.”
“Wow. How drunk are you, B?” Dick snorted.
Bruce perked up. “N, tell the league that they’re jumping to conclusions.”
“I don’t know, B. You said some pretty incriminating stuff.”
“But I didn’t explicitly tell them I’m your dad.” Bruce snapped his mouth shut and the laughter of all his kids rang through the speakers.
“No wonder you don’t drink often. Drunk you has loose lips,” Dick teased.
“I’m not drunk.”
“Uhuh.”
“I’m just a little tipsy.”
“Sure, Dad, whatever you say.”
Bruce smiled dorkily at being called dad. He got a warm feeling in his chest whenever it happened and wished his kids would do it more. “You’re right, I must be drunk, Chum.”
“Ahah! You are Nightwing’s dad!” Hal shouted.
“How many *hic* how many siblings do you have, Nightwing?” Clark asked.
“Legally, biologically or emotionally?”
“There’s a difference?”
“Of course. B’s big ol’ soft heart just can’t help but adopt every kid he sees.”
“Have we met any of your siblings?” Diana inquired. How could she be so coherent and put together when she already had fifteen pints of mead? It was not fair at all.
“I don’t think so but we’ve all secretly met you.”
“What?”
Jason chuckled. “Yeah, we play hide and seek at the Watchtower but none of you has ever caught us.”
“Black Bat shadowed Green Arrow for an entire day once. He got so paranoid, it was hilarious,” Tim chimed in.
“Remember when we put Russian Dolls on the chair every time he tried to sit down? Good times,” Steph cackled evilly. Bruce remembered the prank fondly. He was the one to suggest it. Oliver had annoyed him at a business meeting and proceeded to annoy him at a JL meeting right after so Bruce thought he needed to be knocked down a peg or two. Plus, it was a good training exercise.
“Oh, you’re the ghosts that Ollie has been talking about,” Clark snorted, way too amused at the expense of his teammate. It helped that he was too drunk to be anything other than amused.
“What did Ollie do to deserve that? He was so paranoid he couldn’t sleep for days,” Barry loyally asked in his friend’s stead but the sincerity was undermined by his visible mirth. In truth, they had all suspected that Batman has something to do with the pranks but could never prove it.
“Exist,” Bruce and Jason deadpanned at the same time.
“Oooof, harsh,” Arthur laughed. “Seriously though, I’ve never seen Ollie so scared in my life. What did he do?”
Bruce was about to answer ‘Ollie has been annoying me since we met in high school’ but before the secret identity compromising words could slip out, Jason answered. “Eh, I mainly do it for Arsenal. We send a compilation of his reactions to him whenever he gets mad at Arrow. It’s great meme material.”
“Wait, are you the ones behind the rubber ducks stalking me?!” Hal shouted.
Bruce could not suppress his smirk even if he wanted to and all his kids and kids adjacent burst out laughing. They had purchased hundreds of rubber ducks of all sizes just for that prank and Hal’s reactions were worth every bit of effort. Bruce had never seen the kids so well coordinated and it made him so proud. They had even managed to convince Hal that the ducks were sentient aliens out to get him.
“I always did wonder how you got the ducks everywhere so fast,” Barry admitted with a chuckle. He refilled Bruce’s glass for him and opened another bottle of special speedster beer for himself. “I personally enjoyed the cupboard full of ducks falling on Hal.”
Bruce clinked his glass against Barry’s bottle with a boyish grin, looking a bit too much like Brucie than sober Bruce would have preferred. “We saved the deleted security footage if you want to see them later.”
“Hell yeah I do!”
“What did I do to deserve months of rubber duck hell?” Hal groaned. The nice buzz he’s been feeling all evening died down a little from the sheer annoyance that arose in remembrance.
“You insulted Father’s skills and experience despite the expertise that he has displayed on multiple occasions. In addition, you suggested that Father should abandon Gotham because and I quote ‘it is so obviously a lost cause and cursed beyond cursed’ and despite Father offering you a chance to correct yourself or even retract your unhelpful comment, you stubbornly refused,” Damian succinctly reported.
Hal gaped. “That was months before the first rubber duck appeared! And the rubber ducks continued even after I apologised.”
Bruce shrugged. “It was funny.”
Hal threw a grape at Bruce and Bruce was too drunk to dodge so it bounced off his cowl and rolled onto the table. Barry picked it up and ate it. “You tortured me for months because it was funny?”
“What B is too drunk to say is the months you were given were to allow you the opportunity to apologise before the retaliation and it continued even after an apology was received because the aforementioned insults in regards to Batman’s capabilities as a member of the Justice League,” Tim smugly explained. He was the mastermind behind the rubber ducks and he was damn proud of it.
Hal grumbled and took a shot of vodka.
“I hate to interrupt the fun but there’s movement at the docks. Might I suggest breaking up the arms deal before we continue to share stories?” Alfred’s posh British voice interjected.
“”Yes, A”” the kids sang.
“A? You were listening too?”
“Yes, Master B.”
“The entire time?”
“Yes. The entire time.”
“Then you heard what I said?”
“Yes, I did, son.”
Bruce felt tears prickle up in his eyes and cleared his throat to buy himself time to hide his feelings (Alfred just acknowledged that unspoken thing between them!)… Then he froze. They played a game of never have I ever earlier and Bruce drank when they asked about smoking. To Bruce’s knowledge, Alfred never knew about the smoking. “A, I have never ever smoked before. Whatever you heard, it was a lie.”
“Of course. You were always a model child. Never broke any rules whatsoever.”
“... You can’t ground me. That was decades ago and I am a grown man with a job.”
“Of course, son.”
“Oooft. You’ve totally just got grounded.” Barry pat his shoulder in sympathy.
Bruce cradled his head in his hands and Diana appeared at his other side to give him a sympathetic hug. “I socialised today. You can’t ground me for what I’m doing when I’m socialising.”
Alfred hummed. “I’ll prepare a cup of tea for when you return home.”
Bruce slumped on the table. That was code for a coffee ban and coffee bans meant sleeping every night. Urgh. Stupid party. Stupid league. Stupid alcohol.
“Could I get a F in the chat, boys?” Steph announced over the speakers.
“F.”
“F.”
“F.”
“F.”
“F.”