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It started off as a silly mistake. Bruce had just come out of a meeting with the crotchety old men on his board, who had managed to stretch out what should have been an hour long discussion into a six hour monstrosity with their ridiculous complaints. He was annoyed, tired, and had a headache of massive proportions as he left Wayne Enterprises, waving off his assigned escort impatiently.
That, of course, was when the men in an unmarked white van snatched him off of the streets.
Really.
Truly, that was what happened.
He could barely believe it himself.
Bruce Wayne was indeed a billionaire, but he was also Batman. The Batman, terror of the night, founding member of the Justice League, sole protector of Gotham (if you ignored his gaggle of vigilante children).
If Bruce wanted to, he could kill his abductors with his pinky. These kidnappers really should know better than to target Bruce Wayne.
Clearly they didn’t.
So there he was, in the middle of an abandoned warehouse, tied to a chair with a shitty knot that he could undo in under thirty seconds, with men wearing sheer pantyhose over their heads screaming at him about something – maybe money? Bruce wasn’t really listening – contemplating whether to introduce his feet to their faces or their balls first, when the roof of the warehouse was torn clear off.
Superman soared in gallantly, cape billowing behind him dramatically as he heroically punched a kidnapper in the face.
“Bruce Wayne! I’m here to save you!”
How rude. Bruce was looking forward to beating up his so-called ‘kidnappers’.
After a rather disappointing beatdown, Superman gave Bruce a brilliant, reassuring smile, and ripped the ropes away from his wrists.
“Kidnapping can be quite the experience, but you’ve handled it marvellously. Did they hurt you? Do I need to fly you to a hospital?”
Now, Bruce Wayne had never met Superman. Batman and Superman worked together, yes, but Superman didn’t know that Bruce Wayne was Batman and this was not how he was going to reveal his secret identity.
So Bruce did the only logical thing, and slipped into his Brucie Wayne persona.
“Superman!” he cheered, surging forward to clasp the hero’s hands and stroking a thumb across them flirtatiously. He batted his eyelashes, leaning in. “Thank you for rescuing me, chum! Man, that would’ve been bad. Thank goodness your big, strong, handsome self was here to save me!”
Being the World’s Greatest Detective™, Bruce was very, very perceptive. But it didn’t take a genius to notice the distinctly uncomfortable look that crossed Superman’s face before he quashed it, leaning back as far as he could away from Brucie Wayne.
At that moment, something clicked.
Blame it on his bad day, blame it on Bruce’s odd sense of humor. This was a man who dressed up as a bat to fight people, after all.
Watching the alien squirm the more Bruce talked? That was the funniest thing Bruce had seen in a long time.
So the next time some two-bit kidnapper came along and threatened him with a gun, Bruce went along happily.
“Hi, Wonder Woman!” Bruce cheered from his seat on a platform surrounded by a pool full of snapping alligators. He would’ve waved, but his hands were strapped down. “Is it your turn this week?”
“Mr. Wayne,” Wonder Woman said with a frown, lassoing an alligator’s mouth shut as she simultaneously kicked a kidnapper in the chest. “You really should consider hiring a proper security team. The rate at which you’re abducted is alarming.”
She leapt over the remaining alligators to Bruce’s platform, carefully ripping apart his shackles with her super strength. Bruce had picked the locks over half and hour ago and could’ve freed himself by then, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.
“Aww, you know I don’t trust those guys after the third fake company,” Bruce said, pouting playfully.
(He had hired that team specifically because they were from a fake company. That was the first time the Flash had come to ‘rescue’ him, and Bruce was happy to report that his face could in fact turn as red as his suit.
Flash refused to ‘save’ him a second time.
That was fun.)
“Perhaps you could let me vet the team this time?” Wonder Woman said hopefully, gently sweeping Bruce up into her arms bridal-style. Bruce kicked his legs childishly and earned himself the stink eye from Wonder Woman.
“Oh, but I couldn’t! That would take up so much of your time, and you Justice Leaguers are really so busy.”
“No,” Wonder Woman grit out, leaping over the alligator tank and bounding out of the secret facility. “I insist, really.”
Bruce gasped, scandalized.
“And put my importance over that of the world?! Wonder Woman, be ashamed! I’m just one ridiculously rich, ridiculously handsome man. These kidnappers will give up eventually! Besides,” he said with a salacious wink, pointedly looking her up and down, “I don’t mind being pressed up against you like this. Want to do this again, somewhere more private?”
Wonder Woman groaned, kicking the door off of its hinges and escaping into the icy air. They reached the base of the mountain in no time, where Alfred was waiting for them beside a sleek black Bentley.
“Master Bruce, it’s good to see you are safe,” he said cordially, nodding at Wonder Woman politely. “Wonder Woman. Thank you for bringing Master Bruce back whole once again.”
Wonder Woman smiled kindly at Alfred, dumping Bruce on the ground abruptly. Bruce whined, rubbing his back absently.
“Wonder Woman,” he drawled, winking at her once more. “I didn’t realize you liked it so rough!”
“Mr. Wayne,” she intoned coldly, cutting off the incessant flirtations before they could begin again. “Please consider what I said. The Justice League really isn’t was busy as you think it is. Promise.”
Bruce titled his head vapidly, his expression just blank enough that it screamed I’m an idiot, talk to me at your own risk.
“Heroes are always busy,” he said simply. “I’ll see you next week!”
Wonder Woman flew away in a huff, cursing out all billionaires under her breath.
Alfred gave Bruce a look.
Bruce laughed and climbed into the car.
“Everyone’s got a way to relieve stress, Alfred. This is just mine.”
“If you insist, Master Bruce.”
“Batman,” Green Lantern said tentatively, hoping he wasn’t disturbing him too much as he approached the terror of the night. Batman sat in front of the Watchtower computer, typing furiously as he compared hundreds of case files. He didn’t respond.
“Why don’t you ever take your turn to rescue Bruce Wayne? He’s a Gothamite, after all.”
Batman turned slowly in his chair, levelling a glare at Green Lantern.
Green Lantern flinched, fiddling with his ring and backing away from both the computer and Batman slowly.
“I-It’s just he gets kidnapped so often and you never do anything! And he’s from Gotham! You hate it when metas are in Gotham, but we keep having to go save him because we can’t leave him but then you get mad at us! I don’t understand. Why don’t you go un-kidnap him yourself?”
Batman scoffed at that, turning back to his work.
“Bruce Wayne doesn’t want or need my help.”
And that was that.
The first time Dick got himself kidnapped, Bruce laughed himself sick. He smiled and waved as a very annoyed looking Flash carried his wayward son into the manor, Dick cheerfully prattling the hero’s ear off the entire way.
“You’re being a bad influence, Mr. Wayne,” Flash grumbled as he put Dick down. Dick didn’t stop talking.
Bruce beamed at the two of them, Brucie Wayne in full swing.
“Dickiebird! Were you good to Flash? He’s so helpful and brave, saving us from all those… nasty kidnappers,” Bruce drawled coquettishly, internally chuckling at Flash’s full body shudder.
Dick beamed back at him, equally bright. His expression was just buttered over enough that Bruce could tell that he was putting on an act.
Bruce had never been prouder of him.
“Oh, I was the best, B! Flash is such a great superhero, he’s so strong and brave an amazing even though it would be so easy to let Superman do everything because, you know, Superman, but Flash is definitely my favourite after Superman! Flash just runs so fast, he’s here one second and then he’s gone in a fl- oh my god, is that why you’re called the Flash?! Wow! That’s such a clever name! I thought you just liked shiny things!”
Flash, if possible, looked even more upset, twitching quietly.
“Mr. Wayne, maybe you should tell Batman about all these kidnappings,” here, he looked over his shoulder, as if waiting for Batman to fly down and deck him in the face for entering his city without permission. “He can keep a better eye on you and your kids and I’m sure he’d like to dangle some kidnappers over the side of a building to make them stop.”
Please remember that Bruce and Dick had been partners ever since Bruce took Dick in that fateful night that his parents died. Despite how serious they currently appeared to outsiders, both shared that same odd sense of humor that let them shout things like ‘To the Batmobile!’ and ‘Holy hot dogs, Batman!’ without shame.
So when they exchanged glances, their shared braincell came to life and thrived.
The two of them looked at Flash with identical looks of confusion.
“Flash,” Dick called pityingly. “Batman is an urban legend.”
“That’s right,” Bruce agreed, nodding sagely. “Everyone knows that Batman doesn’t exist.”
Flash gaped at the two of them, completely still for once in his life. His mouth opened and closed several times.
“I work with Batman,” he finally said, voice wavering slightly. “He’s a part of the Justice League.”
Bruce and Dick shared a glance again, this one exaggeratedly pitying.
“You don’t understand,” Flash tried again, almost frantic this time. “I work with Batman. I’ve talked to him multiple times! You’ve seen Batman fighting alien invasions on the news! He’s a real person! He’s Gotham’s first hero!”
“Do you mean Die Fledermaus?” Dick asked innocently.
Flash stared at him, mouthing Die Fledermaus incredulously and looking like he was contemplating his entire life.
“Yeah, I can see why you’d think he was Batman, but Die Fledermaus is a Batman wannabe and Batman is a myth. But don’t worry! It’s an easy mistake to make!”
Flash didn’t say anything, looking between the two of them and their seemingly genuine expressions. Finally, he shook his head.
“All you Waynes are crazy,” he muttered, and zipped out of there, leaving a trail of dust behind in his wake.
Dick turned to Bruce.
Bruce turned to Dick.
Together, they collapsed in a heap, laughing so hard that they were breathless in seconds, sides aching.
“Die Fledermaus!” Bruce gasped, barely able to suck in enough breath to speak. “Did you see his face?!”
“He looked like he wanted to punch us!” Dick shrieked gleefully, rolling back and forth on the floor. “Oh god, I wish I was recording that!”
Eventually the two of them calmed down enough that they could stand, Bruce smoothing down his clothes as he led Dick into the kitchen. Maybe Alfred would be willing to make them something to eat; if not, Bruce was sure he could manage to make Dick and himself a bowl of cereal.
“So how did you get grabbed in the first place, Dick?”
“Hm?” Dick said singsong, blue eyes twinkling as the corner of his lips pulled up into a mischievous smirk. “A pretty girl asked me very nicely to get into a van, so I did.”
Bruce cackled.
“Batman,” Flash said as he approached said hero, carrying his massive lunch in both hands and under one arm, on account of it being lunchtime. Batman raised an eyebrow, not that Flash could see it under the cowl, and took an almost dainty bite of his own chopped salad.
“What,” he growled, pulling his lunch closer to himself and attempting to project an air of leave me alone.
Flash sat down.
Dang.
Maybe Batman was losing his touch.
Curse his many children. It was probably somehow their fault.
“The Waynes don’t think you exist, you know. It’s driving me nuts! You’ve got your own signal and everything! How do they not notice it?!”
Batman didn’t answer, instead stuffing himself with another mouthful of salad.
Hm.
Alfred was trying a ‘healthier’ brand of sour cream, and Batman didn’t like it.
“Batman,” Flash said again, cramming a slice of pizza in his mouth and swallowing it in seconds. “Batman, they called you Die Fledermaus. They said that you were just a myth!”
“I am Die Fledermaus,” Batman said plainly, standing up and abandoning the rest of his salad. “I have work to finish. Don’t disturb me.”
Flash stared at him as he left, mouth agape, pizza falling from his suddenly limp hands.
“What’s this I hear about Bruce Wayne getting kidnapped every other week?” Red Hood snarled, having pulled up on his motorcycle mere minutes earlier and shooting the gang members Batman and Nightwing had been in the process of beating up in the kneecaps.
Nightwing beamed at him, pulling himself up into a handstand and walking on his hands across a narrow staircase railing.
“Don’t forget about Dick Grayson! He’s been getting kidnapped a lot, too.”
Red Hood turned to face Nightwing, the tilt of his head screaming annoyance to anyone who knew him well enough. His fingers twitched over his gun again.
“Yeah,” he said slowly, as if he thought they were idiots (to be fair, he probably did). “But why the fuck do they keep getting kidnapped? Doesn’t the almighty Bruce Wayne have enough money to throw at oodles of bodyguards meant to babysit him?”
Batman grunted, turning on his heel. His cape swept out behind him dramatically, punctuating his movement.
“Wayne says bodyguards are too troublesome, they keep trying to kidnap him. Besides, he seems to be having fun.”
That’s when Red Hood caught on, removing his signature helmet to reveal his red domino mask, eyes round and wide.
“You’re doing it on purpose,” he whispered with awe. “You’re fucking with them because you think it’s funny.”
Batman paused, then grunted again and kept walking.
That was all the confirmation he needed.
Red Hood hurried to catch up with Batman, Nightwing jumping down from his perch with an extravagant flip to join them.
“Holy shit, you’re terrible. This is amazing. Suddenly I wish I weren’t dead!”
“That can be arranged,” Batman replied.
Jason Todd’s sudden return from the dead left the press in a frenzy. Everyone was frantically trying to get an interview with him, from big name news people to tabloid writers to researchers to cultists.
This also included kidnappers, who were less inclined to interview him and more inclined to demand lots of money in exchange for his safe return.
The problem with that, Aquaman thought as he grappled with some grunt with enhanced strength, was that unlike Bruce, who was a shameless flirt, and Dick, who wouldn’t shut up about heroes, Jason was just plain annoying.
“Hit him with a left!” the teen screamed, looking like he was enjoying a boxing match in an air conditioned arena instead of hanging upside down with a gun pointed at his head. “Give him the old one-two!”
“Would you shut up?” Aquaman yelled back, throwing his opponent across the room and into another kidnapper.
“FINISH HIM,” Jason roared, cheering and whooping noisily.
Aquaman groaned.
“Batman,” Wonder Woman said severely, watching as Batman bench pressed nearly 500lbs in full costume.
“The situation with Bruce Wayne is beginning to get out of hand. Not only is he being kidnapped with increased frequency, but so are his two eldest sons, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd. We have had to save all three of them nearly ten times this month alone. I demand you do something to ensure their safety! Gotham is your city and the Waynes are of Gotham. We cannot continue to let them be endangered at such a high frequency! You need to put an end to this!"
Batman grunted, putting the weights back on the rack.
“I don’t patrol during the day. I don’t have super hearing. There’s no way for me to know where he is twenty-four-seven.”
“Then give him a panic button,” Wonder Woman suggested, frustration evident. “Tag him with a GPS tracker, post a watch, do something!”
“Not my problem,” Batman growled, sweeping out of the gym and leaving Wonder Woman to stew in her anger.
“This will be a good introduction to heroics, he says,” Superboy grumbled, poorly mimicking Superman’s voice as he flew around the compound and bullets bounced incessantly off of his chest. “Bruce Wayne and his kids get kidnapped all the time but it’s never dangerous, he says.”
A kidnapper foolishly attempted to punch Superboy and earned himself a broken hand for his efforts. Superboy huffed in annoyance and picked him up by the collar of his shirt, dropping him on top of another kidnapper holding a gun.
“Superman just doesn’t want to do this himself,” he muttered, following the surprisingly relaxed heartbeat of one kidnapped Bruce Wayne. Considering the number of times Bruce had been kidnapped, he probably was used to it at this point.
Superboy followed the heartbeat to a shipping container. He ripped the metal back effortlessly, light streaming into the darkness and illuminating –
“That’s not Bruce Wayne,” Superboy said, mostly to himself, eyeing the pale, sleeping boy curled up quite comfortably at the bottom of the shipping container. Around him lay several kidnappers, all just as knocked out.
“Maybe they got hit with sleeping gas?” Superboy mused aloud.
Suddenly the boy groaned, rolling over to try and get out of the light. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, blinking up at Superboy.
“Hi,” he said drowsily, voice still heavy with sleep. “I’m Tim Drake-Wayne. Can you wait for like, ten more minutes before rescuing me? This is a really good spot for a nap.”
“-and when we ran into another group of kidnappers, he asked if they would let him sleep if he went with them!” Superboy complained over his large ice cream sundae. He and Superman were having their weekly bonding-over-ice-cream time, but instead of bonding Superboy had been complaining about one Timothy Drake-Wayne for nearly half an hour now.
Superman sighed.
“I’ll talk to them. Batman might not listen to me, but the Waynes might.”
The Waynes did not listen.
Superman had dropped by to hopefully give them a quick rundown on personal safety and how to spot kidnappers, but it definitely did not go well.
Tim sat down on one of the comfy couches in the second parlour (yes, the second one, not the first, as if anyone needed more than one parlour) and promptly fell asleep. No amount of badgering could wake him up.
Dick burst into tears the second he saw Superman, blubbering about how cool and heroic he was and how much he admired him before cartwheeling around the room with glee.
Jason wouldn’t let Superman speak more than three words without arguing against him, and somehow managed to draw him into a long, detailed discussion about Jane Eyre.
And Bruce?
Bruce winked every time he made eye contact, leering suggestively at Superman if he so much as twitched. Worst of all, he only called him ‘Stud Muffin’ or ‘Superbabe’.
Superman left Wayne Manor feeling minorly violated, majorly frustrated, and totally defeated.
Green Lantern initially had high hopes for the newest member of the Wayne family, Bruce Wayne’s recently discovered biological child, Damian Wayne. The youngest Wayne was nothing like his father, serious and competent where Bruce was frivolous and loud.
Those hopes were dashed as soon as Damian was kidnapped for the first time, pulled right off of the streets while he was walking home from school.
Who let a child walk by themselves, let alone in Gotham?!
Bruce Wayne did, apparently. No wonder the idiot got kidnapped so often.
So here Green Lantern was, making all sorts of constructs to hit kidnappers away with. Tearing through the ranks of kidnappers (seriously, why were there so many, how come they haven’t given up on the Waynes yet?), he dramatically flung open a door to a room that he seriously hoped Damian Wayne was in, otherwise his dramatics would be embarrassing.
And stopped.
He closed the door, counted to ten, and opened it again.
And stared.
Damian Wayne had a katana, and was currently leaping through the air like a ninja and using said katana to slice through his guards’ legs.
He stopped upon hearing the door open, and looked up at Green Lantern. One of his cheeks was splattered with blood.
They made eye contact.
Damian calmly dropped the katana and made his way back to the chair he had previously been tied to, gathering up the ropes that had been cut through cleanly and draping them around himself as if he were still trussed up.
“Green Lantern,” he said blandly, looking almost disinterested. “Thank goodness you’ve come to save me. I would have perished without you.”
The downed guards around him moaned in pain.
Green Lantern really shouldn’t have opened that door.
Flash found Green Lantern later that week hiding in a supply closet in the Watchtower, slowly rocking himself back and forth as he muttered about swords and demon children.
Quietly, Flash closed the closet door.
He wasn’t going to ask.
It was time.
After being a team for so long, the Justice Leaguers were finally going to reveal their secret identities to each other.
There were a few shocks, like the all-powerful Superman really being mild-mannered Clark Kent, investigative reporter, and a few not-so-surprising-reveals, like Wonder Woman not really having a true secret identity but please call me Diana.
There was still one person who hadn’t spoken yet, the most mysterious, most frustrating member of them all.
Batman.
The Justice League watched as Batman carefully removed his cowl, their expressions slowly morphing into ones of shock and anger as Bruce Wayne smiled brightly at them.
Clark froze, shutting down completely. They could almost see him trying and failing to process this new information, the gears in his head whirring frantically as he glitched out.
“You told me Batman didn’t exist!” Barry screamed, nearly vibrating out of his skin.
Bruce smirked at him.
“Oh my god, everything makes so much sense,” Hal whispered, now curled in on himself and rocking back and forth comfortingly on the floor. “The demon children… Batman’s sons?!”
“And what about your children? Were they in on this too?” Diana asked frostily, toes tapping impatiently.
“Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Robin respectively, from oldest to youngest.”
Diana promptly left the room. A muted scream floated its way in, not quite muffled by the Watchtower walls.
Arthur, face red with anger, said - nay, screamed - what everyone was thinking.
“WHAT THE FUCK.”
BONUS: FAMILY BONDING
“This is ridiculous,” Damian sniffed haughtily, arms crossed. “I refuse to let anyone ‘kidnap’ me. It is unseemly and an insult to Mother’s teachings.”
“But Dami,” Dick said, pouting at his younger brother. “We’ve all been kidnapped before! It’s lots of fun, you’ll love it!”
“Tt,” Damian scowled. “I refuse to partake in such idiocy. Father would be most displeased –”
“I get kidnapped regularly,” Bruce said, much to Damian’s shock. “It really is fun. A good way to relieve stress.”
“Tt,” Damian tsked again, folding his arms and scowling sullenly as Jason, Tim, and Dick high-fived behind him. “Perhaps I could give it a try. But I will not enjoy it.”