Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’m disappointed in you.”

Bruce didn’t acknowledge Superman. He didn’t need to, since Wonder Women came to his defence. 

“Come now,” said Wonder Woman. “We can hardly blame Batman for not having a plan for a craft show being attacked by radioactive alien hornets on the site of a partially-completed ancient ritual requiring only screams to activate.”

She tried to punch the surface of the recently enlarged glass dragon that was holding her captive. Just like all the other times, it didn’t break. 

Superman huffed and put his head in his hands. He was sitting tiredly cross-legged in an admittedly pretty, green-pattered orb. “You forgot the part where some an artist was unknowingly experimenting with kryptonite paint.”

The glass wasn’t exactly sentient, but it did seem to want to encase anything living that it touched. There were a lot of civilians stuck in glass ornaments, rolling around and into each other, which was manageable, but a little confusing considering the glass seemed to be very indestructible and somehow occasionally bouncy.      

At least all the glass was protecting everyone from the radioactive hornets. Green Lantern had been corralling eighty percent of them in one of his constructs when the glass started growing and gaining its currently more irritating properties. Batman had managed to redirect a glass hummingbird over towards Hal when he was first encased and briefly lost focus on his construct, meaning that about seventy of the hornets were stuck in that one glassware. The rest were falling out of the air rather quickly since they kept trying to stab the glass and succeeding at their violence just as well as the Justice League. 

Batman watched a smaller piece of glass, still the size of Damian’s dog, Titus, haphazardly roll after one of the remaining hornets. Batman was estimating the glass at an intelligence level of particularly stupid fish, not that he chose to share that piece of information. 

“The man has Bat Shark-repellant!” Green Lantern shouted from his ornamental watering pod. “He’s supposed to be prepared for everything!”

Flash tilted his head like Green Lantern had made a valid point and emphasized his agreement with a hand gesture. 

“That was hardly my idea,” Bruce muttered to himself, typing on his gauntlet.

It took a moment longer than Bruce would like to admit to realize that the entire Justice League present, meaning Wonder Woman, Superman, Flash, and Green Lantern, had heard him. In his defence, the glass had started to settle and many of the civilians were apparently tired enough from panicking that there was a sudden lull in clinking. Not to mention that the fewer flying hornets meant less incessant buzzing. Also, Bruce was working off of three hours of sleep, a corporate spy situation at Wayne enterprises, an Arkham breakout, and a cold. 

He managed to avoid sneezing by sheer force of will.

“Who’s idea was shark repellant?” Flash asked, apparently genuinely curious.

“Excuse me? If you could pay attention to your captor, that would be great.” This came from a tall, reedy man wearing jean shorts and a graphic t-shirt. He had a glass mask over his face that really looked like a coloured fishbowl. 

Honestly, it would be a kindness for Batman to finish this quickly. The Do Not Engage, Prank, or Take Over the Justice League Rule would hardly prevent Bruce’s children from spontaneously showing up purely for the chance to mock a wannabe with a fishbowl on his head.

Jason and Stephanie would be particularly vicious in their commentary and Dick, the only one who could feasibly stop them, wouldn’t. Damian had recently taken to suit design along with his art at Dick’s suggestion in an effort to find the boy a productive hobby he could tie into both vigilantism and civilian life. Everyone else was very glad it was working to the point of rabid encouragement and Dick was far too proud of both his idea and his babies to properly manage any related behaviour. 

Batman looked just past Fishbowl Man to the camerawoman who’d been shooting something for the news about the craft sale and had just reached the glass-blowing and jewellery section when the hornets first attacked. She therefore had a front-row seat to the panic and the screams from the hornets triggering the ritual that, in-turn, triggered the giant slightly-sentient glass pieces. Fortunately, she appeared to be a professional and was still broadcasting. Even if she stopped, Bruce supposed he could provide some of his cowl footage to Damian. 

Bruce was also, perhaps, proud of his youngest newest’s hobby and fell in the camp of rabid encouragement. Bruce had to replace far less furniture considering Damian’s only previous hobbies had been helping wild animals and hacking chair legs off with his katana.    

“Dude, you took advantage of an accidental magic ritual and paralyzing alien bees. You didn’t capture us, you were just on site.” The Flash had his arms crossed, which was only slightly dampened by the fact that he was upside down and his prison was wedged between tables after he tried to run around in his flat glass pendant. 

Flash also wasn’t wrong. Unfortunately, the slightly-sentient glass seemed to follow their original crafter’s will, which explained the fishbowl and the glass prisons. 

“That’s like, an eight on the opportunistic side of things, but a one on the planning. You’re not going to be able to keep this up, man.” Green Lantern agreed. He was leaning on the back of his watering device, very casual even as he used hand signs to convey that, somehow, the magic was fucking with his ring. 

Judging from his active suit and the little green previously hornet-eating birds still flying within his prison, Batman was thinking this was a similar situation to Superman and Wonder Woman; their powers worked within the glass but couldn’t break through the glass. 

“Feel free to tell us your plan, though.” Superman sounded kind and accommodating from within his glass daisy. 

Batman wanted to smack him upside the head in exasperation. He settled for sharing a commiserating look with Wonder Woman, which backfired slightly when his face twitched with the effort of suppressing a sneeze. Diana’s look turned to one of concern.  

“Thank you!” Fishbowl Man exclaimed. 

They all waited. 

The camerawoman looked up to stare at the reporter she’d arrive with, who was stuck in a glass cat. The reporter shrugged at the same time the civilian next to Batman snickered, trying to cover the motion with their large hat and sunglasses. 

Fishbowl Man was apparently observant underneath the fishbowl and still noticed. He visibly bristled before shouting, “I’m holding you for ransom!”

“Dude,” Flash said, burying his head in his arms. 

Batman stared at Superman until the man turned away to study the ceiling. Sure, Kal would tell Batman he was disappointing for not predicting this mess but the man with a fishbowl stuck on his head and hornets for brains was treated with politeness and courtesy.  

“I’m disappointed in you,” Green Lantern told Fishbowl Man before actually flinching when Batman nodded at him in approval. 

“‘You’ as in the civilians or ‘you’ as in the Justice League?” Wonder Woman asked because she was a goddess who understood the need for actual information. “And who will you be contacting for the ransom?”

Also how would it be paid and to where and how was he going to be communicating these demands. Additionally, what about an exit plan? Because Batman wasn’t seeing one of those that worked in Fishbowl Man’s favour. 

Fishbowl Man looked like he’d been asked to solve a complex calculus problem with Wonder Woman’s questions alone so Batman didn’t add his own. 

Two nearby teenagers trapped in the same ornament laughed at Fishbowl Man who actually started spluttering. Bruce decided this hadn’t been worth getting out bed for in the slightest. Also that he was going on a deep space mission the moment he woke up without wanting to sneeze. Possibly sooner. 

Forget cowl footage for his son’s enrichment. The kids were never to know the extent of this lunacy. They were never going to let him live down being captured by this goon. Maybe he could get away with it if he framed the captured as the fault of alien hornets and ancient magic.

Bruce tuned back in to hear Fishbowl Man ranting about his many purported skills of villainy. 

“My unpredictability is key! You weren’t expecting this. You have nothing on me!”

All the League’s heads and several of the civilians whipped their heads to Batman. Batman decided that the civilian to his right was his favourite, since the woman looked both bored and sympathetic under her large hat. 

He fought off another sneeze by sighing loudly. 

Fine. The facial recognition program had already come back anyways and been reported to his gauntlet. Batman had managed to capture an image of the Fishbowl Man’s face from the security footage before the fishbowl made its appearance. 

“Walden Emerson. Forty-two. Won third place three years running for his glass animals in the craft show’s ranking contest but didn’t place this year. Ex-girlfriend Wendy Choo launched a moderately well planned hostile take over of the state three months ago where Emerson was demoted from boyfriend to henchman. Wendy has custody of their cat despite being on parole leaving Emerson only a dying plant.”

Wonder Woman looked fond while Superman was nodding proudly. Batman scowled at him. Apparently Batman was no longer a disappointment.  

Emerson was sputtering. Batman decided Fishbowl Man was much more appropriate name than Emerson and he would be called nothing else until this farce was over. “How did you-” 

Batman allowed himself to smirk. The details were mostly from the profile on Choo. The lack of a third place ribbon was from a half-tucked away advertisement sign that had clearly been tossed away when he didn’t place this year. The plant was an educated guess.

“Well you still don’t have a plan to stop me.” Fishbowl Man struck a power pose with his hands on his hips despite the fact that the jean shorts really took away from the moment. 

“A pre-set plan for a craft show being attacked by radioactive alien hornets on the site of a completed ancient ritual that only needed a set number of screams in the vicinity, hijacked by a wannabe in a fishbowl working through his feelings of inadequacy after his breakup? No, even I didn’t have one that specific.”

Fishbowl Man was clearly torn between glee that Batman had basically agreed with him or rage by the description of his motivations.

Superman hummed thoughtfully. “That specific?” Superman asked, with a smile despite being mildly poisoned by kryptonite. 

“I generalize,” Batman admitted. “Sometimes.”

“Let’s see this general plan, then.” Fishbowl Man crossed his arms. 

“Dude,” Flash shook his head from where he’s mostly sighted himself in his pendant. He was standing at an angle of about seventy degrees instead of upside down. “You don’t challenge Batman.”

Fishbowl Man waved his hand at the giant glass leaf Batman was encased inside. “What’s he going to do? Wonder Woman couldn’t even break this shit.”

“You really are new at this, aren’t you?” Green Lantern’s tone was pitying, as was Flash’s laughter. 

Batman avoided sneezing and considered. The rest of the League was dealing with a diplomatic incident being led by Martian Manhunter and Bruce really didn’t want to disturb them. Zatanna had mentioned she was going to be in another dimension for a while and Constantine was MIA as usual. They were going to run out of air in these glass prisons sooner than later, despite the fact that most people hadn’t seemed to have figured that out quite yet. Batman wasn’t even sure if Fishbowl Man had figured that one out. 

Also, Alfred was making chicken noodle soup. Bruce’s head hurt and suppressing the sneezes was annoying and he wanted that soup, damnit. 

Really, the Do Not Engage, Prank, or Take Over the Justice League Rule wasn’t going to last much longer anyways. Red Robin was preparing a Presentation on the advantages of revealing the Bats as a collective and allied entity. The whole family was involved and preparing arguments and counter-arguments. It was an impressive piece of work from what he’d been able to scope out and Dick was fully capable of making Bruce disappear and taking over as Batman if Bruce disappointed his babies. 

Capable and willing, if Bruce was reading his eldest’s targeted glares whenever Bruce walked into a planning session and had to pretend he didn’t know what was going on. 

So Bruce walked to the other side of his prison and tapped on the glass to catch the attention of the camerawoman stuck in a stylized pepper shaker. Sure, he could have made the call over his comms. unit, but he fought crime dressed as Bat. Bruce deserved this for the complete and utter farce he had to endure so far today. 

“Excuse me,” Bruce asked, much more politely than the two-bit Fishbowl villain because Alfred has raised him right. “Are you still broadcasting?”

The camerawoman nodded hesitantly after a quick look to the reporter, her camera and its major news outlet logo bobbing along. Batman turned slightly from the woman to the camera, aware of the glass distortion from both of their prisons and not particularly caring. 

“Code Free Rein. N’s in charge. Don’t break anything I’ll need to fix.”

And then he sat down, cape flowing out behind him. Because Alfred was a thespian at heart and had raised him right. 

“That’s it?” Asked Fishbowl Man.

“It’s a very hands-off plan,” Bruce allowed. 

“Who is N?” Wonder Woman asked.

“The person who invented the Bat Shark-repellant.” Bruce really should stop caving to his eldest’s puppy eyes. Though now he’d taught all his siblings so really it wasn’t Bruce’s fault anymore. 

“You called someone for help? You? What happened to working alone?”

A loud giggle-snort interrupted Green Lantern’s exclamation. 

“Are you kidding me?” The giggler said after, catching their breath and realizing the collective League plus villain were looking at them. “Batman work alone? Ha.”

Batman had already been pretty sure from his new favourite civilians calm demeanour throughout a villain attack, aversion to sunlight with the giant hat and glasses, and the Wayne-industries gas mask sticking out of a specialized pocket of their backpack, but those words confirmed his suspicions. 

“Gothamite.” Bruce said aloud, for his slower companions. 

The young woman nodded. “Left for my Masters degree. All this sunshine is wild.”

Bruce nodded, because it was truly awful. He was getting a headache and he didn’t think it was from the cold or the even the stupidity he was being forced to endure. 

“I have family in the bowery though. Sent me news footage of the Scarecrow takedown last week. N saved my little sister, so thanks for that.”

Bruce nodded again, because he didn’t like the thanks part of the job but his children were pretty fantastic and deserved all the recognition that didn’t put them in danger.

Green Lantern didn’t let the conversation deviate, however. He pressed forward into his glass wall. “What do you mean Spooky doesn’t work alone? He’s like the most antisocial person I’ve ever met and, let me tell you, I’ve met a lot of people in a lot of galaxies.”

The Gothamite ignored Green Lantern and looked to Batman. Batman loved his city and its citizens. He really did. “Did N really come up with Bat Shark-repellent?”

“Among many other things,” Batman admitted.

“Batarangs?” 

“No… but he did name them.”

“I just won so much money in the neighbourhood betting ring.” The Gothamite rubbed her hands together before cocking her head. “So, you really doing this?”

“Doing what?” Yelled Green Lantern and Fishbowl Man at the same time, much to their mutual disgust and Flash’s and Superman’s mutual amusement. Wonder Woman just looked concerned again. 

Batman hadn’t sniffed. He hadn’t. 

He did sigh. 

“Just seems like overkill, you know?” The Gothamite asked. 

“No, we really don’t,” said Flash, somehow sounding more earnest than annoying. Maybe it was the way he was now standing at the edge of his glass prison, one hand spread out across the surface and entire body fighting that seventy degree tilt. 

“It is,” Batman agreed. Because it really was overkill. He also sneezed. Out loud and visibly and on camera. 

There was a moment of silence before the Gothamite cackled. “Can’t believe I’m actually on site in person when the gag-order gets rescinded. Who woulda thought?”

“Gag-order?!” Shouted several people all at once. Bruce couldn’t quite follow due to the ringing in his ears. 

Batman frowned. “There was no gag-order.”

Superman stood and also pressed to the front of his glass prison. “What gag-order, Batman?” He asked all serious and kind and boy-scout-like. 

Batman opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the cursing of the young woman next to him. The Gothamite was very clear in her dislike for Superman and his disappointment in his friends, particularly Gotham’s Bat.

Superman turned doleful eyes on Batman who smirked like he always did when they ran into the Gotham-Metropolis rivalry. Superman deigned to roll his eyes. 

“My city’s citizens aren’t like this to you,” Superman muttered. 

“Uh, that’s because they’re all sunshine and alien invasions and running away from perfectly playable sport matches just because of a little villainy. Gothamites are tougher stuff. We know how to protect out own.” The Gothamite was glaring at Superman from under her hat, hand tucked in her pocket like she wanted to pull out the concealed weapon there and threaten a national icon directly. 

And oh, perhaps there had been a gag-order, if only an inadvertent one. Oracle and Red Robin monitored mentions of the Bats on the internet, of course, and Batman had known there weren’t nearly as many mentions of the Bats as there could be. That the mentions mainly stuck to Gotham-specific sites and programs or referred to his children’s work in other city’s on other teams as not connected to Gotham in the slightest. He just hadn’t quite realized that was intentional. That Goathmites were just as possessive and protective of their heroes as Batman himself was. 

“The secrecy wasn’t to protect them,” Batman admitted softly, to the actually concerned Gothamite beside him and to the others watching through the camerawoman’s steady footage. “Not for a while, at least. It was to protect the League.”

The woman tilted her head in the ensuing silence. “That, that seems fair actually.”

“Thank you,” Batman breathed to the shock of his team mates. But, really, of course he worried about his babies. All the arguments they were preparing about revealing identities to their respective teams and allowing them to be connected to each other as Bats were unfortunately valid. The family was strong and a team and very capable. 

They were also little monsters. Batman wasn’t entirely sure his second team would be able to keep up. 

“What. The. Fuck.” Green Lantern was hovering in his prison with crossed arms. Fishbowl Man was nodding emphatically, far too involved in the drama going on in front of him. Gotham villains could commit to the bit without sacrificing basic situational awareness or their own goals. 

“Batman called for help,” summarized Wonder Woman, just slightly awed. “From the other Gotham vigilantes.”

Flash’s mouth dropped open and Superman’s stare got deeper. 

Fishbowl Man suddenly snapped out of it. “What?! When.”

“You literally saw him do it,” said the reporter. 

“What other Gotham vigilantes? Batman works alone!” Fishbowl Man turned to Flash for support.

Flash shook his head. “I mean, yeah. But also no? He does decently with us, very dependable. So others are possible?”

“There have always been rumours about other Gotham vigilantes,” Superman admitted, “but when Batman didn’t confirm this we figured they were just rumours.”

Which was a mistake. Always go for independent confirmation. 

“Five minutes ago,” Batman said, instead of criticizing the Leagues information gathering techniques on live television. 

Everyone looked confused at this, excepting the Gothamite grinning with sharp teeth. 

Batman tilted his head at Fishbowl Man. “You asked ‘when.’ The answer is five minutes ago.”

“You made your announcement longer than five minutes ago,” the reporter pointed out after checking in with the camerawoman. 

“Yes,” agreed Batman, looking down at Fishbowl Man’s feet. “Five minutes ago was when they arrived.”

Fishbowl Man looked down at his own feet, flailing with a scream as the grappling gun pulled taught and his foot was yanked out from under him. 

A cackle echoing across the glassware was the poor man’s only response. Fishbowl Man and even the other heroes probably couldn’t tell, but the cackle only echoed because it came from more than one source. 

Batman sneezed. 

“Bless you,” said two voices. 

“Tt,” said another. 

“Fuck you,” said one more.

“Hello, children,” said Batman as the Gothamite beside him continued to cackle. 

Chapter Text

The Justice’s League’s shock was drowned out by Fishbowl Man’s screams as he was dragged backwards by the grapple. Bruce was grateful for his mask since it hid the twitch to his eye. The wannabe villain was shrill and could reach very high volumes. 

“Weak,” muttered the Gothamite and Bruce made the conscious decision not to nod. Being yanked like that didn’t hurt particularly badly since Red Robin had been courteous enough to set the trap for both Fishbowl Man’s legs instead of just one. 

Unfortunately, Fishbowl Man was able to slap his hands against a glass bracelet, shatter it, and use the shard to cut himself free. He had better reflexes than expected, apparently even when screaming. Bruce would still be re-visiting the materials used in the current grapple-gun. Magic glass was apparently very sharp. 

“N!” Shouted Fishbowl Man as he staggered to his feet. 

“No.” Red Robin crossed his arms and pouted at the escaped man. Bruce was pretty sure Tim had slept in the last forty-eight hours. 

Mostly sure.  

“Red Robin?” asked Wonder Woman. “From the Teen Titans?”

“That’s me,” Red Robin agreed affably before raising his eyebrow in judgement as Fishbowl Man floundered at the case of mistaken identity. 

“Oh! Impulse’s team leader! You did very good work in Mississippi last month. I was very proud.” Flash vibrated slightly, bounced back from the glass, and went back to beaming. 

“Thanks,” Red Robin said with a small smile, leaping out of the way of a charging glass tiger in a move that was Nightwing taught. 

“Are the Titans here?” Green Lantern asked with reasonable caution. There were several teams of Titans and Teen Titans that he was probably thinking were lurking. Two of the most notable teams were, of course, led by Bruce’s babies, but Batman hadn’t interacted with them much officially. He’d been professional but didn’t see the need to be in close proximity and give the other heroes chances to put things together. 

This was not because he found it difficult to prevent himself from  gushing about his babies and how proud he was and how talented they were. It wasn’t. Alfred was mistaken. 

Red Robin snorted and ducked a glass falcon. “Nope. Can you really see Batman calling for help from a bunch of teenagers for this?”

“He called in the Titans last month,” Wonder Women pointed out. 

“That was for an alien invasion. Not this embarrassment.” Red Robin shocked the tiger with electricity from his bo staff and frowned briefly when it only stunned the thing for a moment. 

“Hey!” Said Fishbowl Man and Green Lantern for different reasons.

“It’s not our finest moment,” Flash admitted, back to being mostly upside down. 

Red Robin turned a sharp grin on the man, an actual flash of light happening at the top of the jump he’d started by leveraging his staff against the ground. Fishbowl Man flinched like he was expecting a stun grenade. 

“Did RR just take a photo?” Asked the Gothamite.

“Always,” Batman admitted. 

“Noooo,” said the Flash. 

“Yes,” agreed Red Robin. “Totally going in the Titan chat for future mockery.”

“We’re already on TV, though,” Superman pointed out.

“I’m disappointed in you,” Bruce told his old friend. Clark had two boys. How did he not know that the kids would always go for direct mockery when given the chance? Particularly when said chance was handed to them in a coloured fishbowl?

The falcon and the tiger took another swipe at Red Robin, who dodged the tiger and paused slightly when the falcon was sliced in half with a slightly glowing katana. 

“Tt. Sloppy,” Robin told Red Robin. The older boy merely rolled his eyes and pivoted slightly so he and Robin were back to back. Bruce was so proud of his boys.

“N! My nemesis!” Fishbowl Man shouted and pointed. 

“Tt. You are not worthy to be N’s nemesis. Nor are you worthy to say my name, but I will inform you it is Robin, since I am told to be polite.”

“Robin,” Superman said quietly. 

Robin looked to him. “Hello, alien. I trust Superboy is well.”

“He’s fine,” Superman said slowly looking from Robin to Bruce. “Good to see you, kid.”

Nightwing had had introduced Robin to Superman and Superboy when Bruce was in space on a mission. Superman had always favoured Nightwing, even when he’d been using the Robin mantle and still building the first Titans. Bruce supposed that Nightwing naming his new mantle based off one of Clark’s heart to heart talks after a particularly difficult group battle had only cemented things. 

Regardless, Clark had been more than happy to introduce his youngest son to Nightwing’s protege, even if civilian identities were still off the table. 

“Robin?” Asked Fishbowl Man ducking behind a giant Christmas ornament that must have been solid glass instead of hollow for the way Damian’s sword got stuck in it. 

“My son’s best friend,” Superman said absently as he looked around, presumably for Nightwing, well aware of the nature of Robin’s biggest protector. 

“Wait,” breathed the Gothamite, who didn’t seem to notice that everyone in the vicinity actually waited. 

Bruce’s children waited partly for the drama of it all and partly to get into better positions. The Justice League probably waited for the next revelation, having certainly recognized the Gothamite as a prime source of information. Fishbowl Man waited because he was an idiot and didn’t know how to take advantage of timing.

“The rumours of Superboy in Gotham were true?!”

“What?” Superman whipped his head to the Gothamite.

“Dude,” whispered Flash. 

“Tt,” said Robin. “N believed I needed socialization with a proper peer that could keep up with a vigilante of my caliber.” 

“You did,” admitted Bruce, with possibly too much fervour and also a sneeze.

“Doesn’t seem like something you’d go for,” the Gothamite told Bruce, casual to the point that Bruce saw Green Lantern and Flash gesturing at each other in further shock. 

Red Robin snorted as he knocked away a series of baubles Fishbowl Man had started chucking at him like they were baseballs. He didn’t even flinch as bullets passed by him from Red Hood’s rafter-lurking support. The baubles actually shattered when hit by staff and bullet, so apparently the indestructibility was tied to the magic that enlarged the glass. 

“Batman was away. He had no say in the matter,” Red Robin explained as he jumped back from the glass shards. 

“N really went behind your back on that one, huh,” the Gothamite asked. The idea of someone deliberately going behind Batman’s back seemed to flabbergast Flash and Green Lantern. Even Fishbowl Man seemed perturbed as he crouched behind what had once been his table and started digging through one of his bins of materials he’d started the day hoping to sell. 

Superman and Wonder Woman both looked thoughtful, but then again, they both knew Nightwing the best of the non-Gothmites and Bats here. 

Bruce opened his mouth to say something decisive and impactful. Instead he said, “It helped so much.”

Which it had. Damian had barely tolerated teamwork with the Bats and had no interest in attempting the same with others. Therefore the Titans were not an option, even if they went with the Nightwing’s protege excuse as they had for Superman. Truthfully, even if they had, Bruce didn’t think it would work for very long. 

Nightwing and Red Robin had played up the similarities of the Red Robin name to Nightwing’s original mantle by relying on the idea of hero worship and the fact that Red Robin was also aiming to lead his own team and apparently following in similar footsteps. Additionally, the two were both excellent actors and able to play affectionate distance and friendly guidance. 

Robin and Red Robin would devolve in sibling bickering the moment they saw each other and then go for the throats of anyone else who tried to insult the other in their presence. 

So hero teams were not the way to go to get Damian properly socialized. Superboy had been a fantastic influence on Damian and Dick was perhaps a little insufferable that he had been right that the kid had just needed a friend. 

“They started hanging out in February, didn’t they?” The Gothamite said thoughtfully.

“Yes,” agreed Red Robin as he backed away from the glass dragon that was unwinding itself from the padded bin, growing steadily as it was further exposed to air.

Robin scowled at the Gothamite, barely ducking a swing of the dragon’s tail in time.

“Sorry, Robin,” the Gothamite replied. “But we could totally tell. February was when the Bat-watching forums started reporting you’d not only swoop in to save the day but also awkwardly as about people’s pets.”

“Tt. Superboy told me that was an acceptable avenue of conversation and good distraction from traumatic events.”

“It is,” the Gothamite rushed to reaffirm because Gotham loved all her Robins, including their grumpy and violent current bird who’d maybe been caught on camera slightly drugged by one of Crane’s experiments. He was also being cradled in Nightwing’s arms while complaining that he just wanted to pat all the lost cats because what if they were sad and alone liked he used to be? 

Robin had insisted Red Robin and Oracle take down the video but they had not done so particularly quickly. 

“I think I speak for all Gothamites when I say we love talking to you about our pets. Please keep asking. In fact, I have a turtle named Shellwing and would love to show you a picture after this is all over.”

“Acceptable,” Robin allowed because he loved animals and this one had been apparently named after his favourite brother. 

Batman closed his eyes briefly, barely more than a moment, in an effort to suppress his next sneeze. He opened them just in time to see a large wing sweep across his glass prison, forcing it to nock into the Gothamite’s, who grabbed her hat and her knife as she braced. Wonder Woman ended up being knocked into Green Lantern’s watering bauble but, unlike him, she remained on her feet. 

The second pass of a wing was interrupted by a loud bang and the wing cracked hard enough that it fell to the floor.

“Fuck yeah!” Yelled Red Hood from the rafters. Bruce wondered if he should be concerned that his son had brought heavier guns than usual and also magic bullets. Who had given his son magic bullets? It was probably Constantine. Or Dick, supplied by Constantine, wanting to make his biggest baby brother happy.

“Aha!” Shouted Fishbowl Man, once again showing a talent for focusing on the wrong thing. “You must be N!”

“Fuck no!” Red Hood shouted back. He took aim again, causing Fishbowl Man to squawk and dive back behind his table even as his dragon roared at the loss of another wing.

Unfortunately for Fishbowl Man, the table was already occupied and he instead backed up against a pair of armoured legs. 

“Hey,” said Signal who had not been there the moment before, at least visibly. 

Fishbowl Man screamed but managed to duck out of Signal’s reaching grasp by substituting himself with a glass teddy bear. The teddy bear was only the size of a cantaloupe and sucked Signal’s hand inside but not much else. Bruce was prepared to be worried but Signal merely held up the glass-encased hand and waved it around a moment before shrugging. He then used the glass to punch an approaching empty glass goldfish in the eye.

It cracked. 

“Glass on glass works too!” Signal yelled out to the room.

“N,” Fishbowl Man asked with faint but already defeated hope, pulling himself to a standing position even as Red Hood and Robin trounced the dragon and Red Robin was tapping on Flash’s pendant, ignoring the chaos and the man’s questions to run tests on his gauntlet. 

Signal shook his head. “Sorry, man. Not even close.”

The Gothamite giggled and Superman looked like he wanted to follow suit.

Signal took aim for Fishbowl Man’s head with his teddy bear gauntlet and the two went dancing backwards, slightly away from Batman. This meant that no one but Bruce and the Gothamite heard the quiet voice from behind them. 

“I’m disappointed in you.”

Batman sighed as Nightwing came to stand next to Batman’s glass prison. 

“There is a glass bat right there.” Nightwing pointed out a glass creature just behind the Gothamite’s lamp. “You couldn’t have aimed yourself a little better?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in charge?” Batman asked, changing the subject because he had tried to land in the bat and Nightwing knew it.

“I am. I’m delegating. They have it well in hand.”

There was explosion and a mocking laugh. This was followed by a truly cutting comment from Robin about fashion that was, astonishingly, supported by a very sarcastic Red Robin who hadn’t even looked up from his tech. 

“Besides, you know any time I comment about suit aesthetics someone brings up Discowing.”

The Gothamite waved at Nightwing who titled his head and waved back, smiling happily and likely trying to place her. “I liked that suit,” the Gothamite said.

Batman sneezed, just slightly. A mini-sneeze, really. “You loved that suit,” he agreed.

“Of course I did,” said Nightwing because he’d based that design on one of John Grayson’s costumes. “But you hated it more than anyone.”

Bruce did not pout. He didn’t. He also didn’t sneeze again. “The goons were leering.” 

The Gothamite looked like Christmas had come early but Bruce’s baby had deserved better. Bruce broke so many jaws when the Discowing suit was in use. It was kind of cathartic and also very infuriating.

Nightwing uncrossed his arms. “I know, B.” His smile said he also knew about the jaws. “Anyways, looky here. Guess what I brought you?” 

Nightwing reached down to his hip where a canister had been attached to his belt. There was a yellow bat symbol pressed into the metal. 

“What is that!?” Shrieked Fishbowl Man back in range and at a pitch that drew everyone’s attention as he scrambled back and pressed into Superman’s bubble. The bubble didn’t eat Fishbowl Man and deposit him into Superman’s waiting arms because that was apparently a step too far into Villain Incompetence territory. 

Bruce’s boys all paused. Red Robin was perched on top of Green Lantern’s watering bauble this time, Red Hood was still in the rafters, and Robin was leaping back in order to maintain distance and not decapitate the idiot they were fighting. Signal had one foot raised to step around the glass dragon’s shattered but still large remains. 

“Excuse me?” Nightwing asked, canister still held out it one hand as if he was offering it to Bruce despite the glass separating them.

“You must be N!” 

Fishbowl man looked unreasonably smug with that declaration when no one contradiction. Nightwing just raised an eyebrow while making a ‘yes, and?’ motion with his free hand.

“N, my nemesis, with a devious attack in wait. Is it poison? A nerve attack? You have no proof that the glass will protect your allies. Or the civilians.”

Nightwing looked at the canister and back at Fishbowl Man. “It’s not for you? Mind your own business.”

“Yeah, butt out Mr. Glasshead.” Red Robin snorted, going back to whatever reading his was getting from scanning the apprehensive Green Lantern’s prison.

“Plebeian,” Robin added. 

Red Hood snorted, somehow still audible from up in the roof, while Signal bent the light around him to start slipping out of notice and better re-position himself.

Fishbowl Man didn’t notice. “Do not think that you will get away with contaminating my beautiful-”

“It’s soup.” Nightwing tapped the canister on his leg.

“What?” Fishbowl Man didn’t step way from Superman’s bubble. 

Superman himself wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to the villain, trying to communicate something to Bruce with eyebrows alone. Bruce looked away. He was developing a headache and for once didn’t think it was child-related. Also his nose itched but now was not the time to sneeze. Again.

“Soup,” Nightwing repeated.

“Soup,” said the villain, crossing his arms.

“Soup,” Nightwing insisted.

“Made of poison and evil-defeating nano bots?” Fishbowl Head asked.

“Made of bat wings, roach hearts, and the green and fetid waters of Gotham’s sewers.” Nightwing leaned forward, lowering his voice like he was conveying a secret.

“Really?” Fishbowl man leaned forward as well, mirroring Nightwing’s position.

“No, doofus. It’s chicken noodle.”

Batman sneezed. Nightwing lunged. 

Fishbowl Man fell to the ground after being whacked in the head with a canister of soup. Apparently his fishbowl was purely decorative. 

“Way to take the fun out everything, Goldie,” Red Hood declared from above, presumably holstering his gun.

“What the fuck,” breathed Green Lantern and Flash at the same time. 

Nightwing tossed the un-dented canister up and down in his hand a few times as he turned to look at them. “Chicken Noodle. In a Bat-thermos, of course.”

“Of course,” Flash said back, as if he couldn’t help himself. 

“Wicked,” said the Gothamite, grinning when the camerawoman nodded at her. “But totally overkill.”

Bruce sighed. “Report,” he ordered. 

Nightwing just raised the canister of soup as if asking if they needed to have this conversation again. Thankfully, Red Robin jumped down from Green Lantern’s prison and started talking about the properties of the glass even as Signal called out that the Fishbowl Man was contained. 

“I could shoot it,” Red Hood called from above.

“No,” Red Robin immediately shot him down. “So far we’ve only destroyed unoccupied glass. We don’t know what the blow-back would be for organic or living beings being surrounded by breaking glass. It could be fine, but we could also be sending tiny blades rocketing forward at extreme force. We could try with Superman or Wonder Woman if we need to but I’d rather table that for later.”

Red Robin met  Bruce’s gaze in a way that meant he’d recognized the air limit and knew better to say that out loud in a room full of panic-able civilians. 

“We’ve at least confirmed that the magic isn’t tied to Fishbowl man, for all that it was mainly his glassware that was impacted,” Signal pointed out.

“Probably the kryptonite paint he was using,” Red Robin mused. “Must react weirdly to the magic.”

“Could be something in the composition of the glass, too,” Nightwing added before slapping the canister in his hand as if struck by an idea. He smiled sheepishly when his family all looked to him. “Sorry, no break in the case or anything. I just remembered where I knew our Gothamite from. I met her little sister in that kerfuffle with Scarecrow last week. She has a great right hook: almost knocked one of his goons right out!”

This last was to the Gothamite, who grinned back. “I know! Taught her everything she knows.”

Nightwing nodded, because that was what a good big sibling did in Gotham. 

Bruce was distantly glad that Nightwing had an ID for their Gothamite, whether or not it was from his ridiculous social memory or their facial ID software. Bruce hadn’t run the scan himself since he was feeling groggy enough that he didn’t want to rush outing the Gothamite’s name on national television without her permission. He didn’t think that was particularly likely with his training, but he did generally operate on a policy of the more paranoid version of better safe than sorry.

“Sisters are great,” Nightwing was replying when Bruce refocused with only minor difficulty.

The Gothamite grinned knowingly beneath her sunglasses which was also about the time things started taking a sharp turn again. Signal was blown backwards and into Red Robin while Nightwing lunged and yanked Robin into his embrace, covering the younger’s head from flying shards of glass from the dragon and other shattered pieces.

“Not so fast, boys,” said a woman that actually looked the part of a villain, with a sleek black outfit, combat boots, and a proper violet mask lowered her eyes. One hand was glowing a soft and smokey red light and the other was freeing the blinking awake Fishbowl Man. 

“Wendy Choo,” Batman said for his companions that were slower than his children. He also put his hand to his forehand for a moment that caused clear concern to Wonder Woman and Superman. Batman waved them off. This mess was his kids’ problem now.

“Darling,” slurred Fishbowl Man.

“Really?” Asked Robin, accepting Signals hand up and putting his own hand to his head. He shook it shortly after and flashed an okay hand signal so Bruce leaned back against his bubble and went back to not worrying. 

“Hello, sweetheart,” Wendy Choo said as she threw Fishbowl Man’s arm over her shoulders. 

“You came for me,” Fishbowl Man replied, softly.

“Well, I suppose. You looked like you could do with a bit of a hand.”

“Really?” Asked Red Robin, fully aghast and fully a teenager as the two villains drew closer.

“I’m holding them for ransom. For you.” Fishbowl Man had better have a concussion since that made no sense at all. 

Somehow, Choo still looked charmed. “Better idea might be to escape, taking the glass monsters with us for a new plan with better planning and beta-testing.”

“You will not be escaping,” Nightwing told them even as Red Robin stomped off slightly to go back to investigate the glass prisons while muttering about sentimentality and unnecessary emotion. 

Bruce was no longer mostly sure about Red Robin sleeping in the last forty-eight hours. 

Signal gave Red Robin’s shoulder a pat as he passed and went to guard his brother’s back, so it would probably work out. Nightwing attached the soup canister back to his belt and started to crouch slightly, signally to Robin who was mirroring the stance on the other side of the villains. 

“You’re just lucky Nightwing didn’t bring the girls,” said the Gothamite to Choo. “Now that would be really overkill.”

The lights went out. The dark was surprisingly complete considering the bright sunlight outside that peaked through distant windows. 

“It wasn’t me!” Yelled Signal. 

“Who do you think I am?” Nightwing’s voice rang out through the dark he and the rest of his siblings had slipped back into. “I would never deny my sisters a chance for family bonding.”

“Sisters?” Flash whispered. “Family?”

“You really missed the context in Batman’s earlier ‘hello children,’ didn’t you?” Asked the Gothamite, clearly judgemental even in the dark.

“Children,” muttered Green Lantern in a horrified voice. He was still glowing faintly green so his expression was fairly visible and very amusing. “Spooky’s children.”

“Run,” Flash told Fishbowl Man and his girlfriend, utterly serious. Choo scowled in the red light of her own power while Fishbowl Man looked like he was seriously considering talking the advice. 

Wonder Woman tilted her head at Bruce, who capitulated to the sheer delight both she and Superman were somehow managing to project. 

Batman smiled as he leaned back, safe in the knowledge that only his enhanced colleagues would notice. “It’s far too late for that.”

Nightwing whistled, long and sharp, in a way that rang against the glass. Six varying whistles echoed back, replying position and intent. 

Bruce didn’t have to whistle himself, since his position in a glass prison was rather well known and unlikely to change, but he still did.  

Chapter Text

The silence after Bruce’s whistle rang through the dark. His children might have been eaten by the shadows for all they could be detected. He was very proud. 

For a long moment all that could be heard was held breath and the quiet creaking of civilians uncertainly shifting about in glass prisons. This was suddenly and unrepentantly interrupted by the solid smack of a body, likely Fishbowl Man, being dropped to the ground and the thuds of blows being deflected. From the depth and speed of the sound, and also the infrared capabilities of Batman’s cowl, Bruce could tell that Red Robin and Spoiler were tag-teaming a surprisingly well-trained Choo. 

Bruce would have to update Choo’s file detailing her combat abilities. 

Visuals also became available very quickly, though the kind revealed in bits and starts and streaks of light. Choo’s hands had ceased glowing when the lights went out, likely due to her surprise, which was an understandable though amateurish mistake. Now, the glow was back, the purple getting stronger and casting flickering shadows on her opponent’s face. 

“Light powers, right.” Red Robin threw up his hands in a gesture that was less frustration with Choo than his own memory of her file. 

Bruce was now quite sure his son had no more than a catnap in the last forty-eight hours. Probably two of them. Dick wouldn’t have let Tim out, even for family bonding, if Tim had hit the no sleep at all point. Bruce could say this as someone who had personally run into the monster his eldest became when one of his ducklings or Bruce had hit truly low levels of self-care.

Red Robin shook his head and flat out walked back into the shadows. “I’m out.” 

Choo watched somewhat skeptically, her expression lit up like a confused jack-o-lantern. Fishbowl Man, his fishbowl helmet reflecting the flicking purple in a rather upsetting way, gave a slightly groggy chuckle. 

“That is correct. Fear my mighty girlfriend!”

Choo ducked suddenly, stepping over Fishbowl Man’s still sprawled position on the floor as she moved to avoid Spoiler’s fist. 

Spoiler just laughed. Spoiler had always been the one best able to complete the original Robin’s genuinely joyous yet creeping cackle. 

“It’s not so much fear as tapping out,” she said as she in turn ducked Choo’s fist. 

The purple light trails left behind were possibly becoming somewhat concerning. The report on Choo had listed her light as having an odd corrosive effect on skin if the light made contact. 

Which it didn’t. Because Signal had stepped forward, or possibly had been pushed forward by an unseen force. “Yeah, yeah,” he said over his shoulder as he regained his balance. “I’m on it.” 

The light around Choo went out at Signal’s gesture. Choo summoned the glow again, only to have it blink out once more. She tried three more times, dodging blows from Spoiler all the while, before Signal huffed. 

“I can do this all day.”

“He’s a meta!” Flash was vibrating in his glass off to the right, his shocked face briefly lit up for a moment before it was extinguished. “Metas aren’t allowed in Gotham.”

“Outsiders aren’t allowed in Gotham,” the Gothamite next to Bruce said loudly enough that Batman didn’t have to.

This allowed him to focus on the slight knock on the back of his glass prison. The infrared of his cowl allowed him to clearly see a small, lithe form wave at him. Bruce paused a moment before waving back. He then sighed when Black Bat held up a large dagger and tapped it again against the glass. The dagger had an odd heat signature that sent the faintest of ripples along the glass. 

Bruce activated his comm. “Nightwing. We’re going to talk about your friendship with Constantine and the related new habit of supplying dubious magic items to your siblings.”

He heard Red Hood’s cackle before Nightwing’s response. It sounded like the noise came from right beside Nightwing rather than through Red Hood’s own comm. Which absolutely meant that Nightwing was perched beside his brother in the rafters watching his siblings run amok. Supervising, Bruce was sure Nightwing would say if pressed. 

“No idea what you’re talking about, B,” Nightwing chirped. “But I protest the very thought I would give dubious anything to my babies.”

“I was promised a magic blade,” Robin interjected. “You will not obstruct my acquiring a magic blade, Batman.” 

Bruce sighed. Black Bat patted him on the arm as she dragged him out of the small opening her not-dubious magic dagger had managed to cut clean through the magic glass. 

He tuned back into the general conversation when the Gothamite snorted. Since she didn’t have a line to their communication system and Signal was still helping to keep things dark enough that she couldn’t see much, clearly one of his children had said something ridiculous or the the League had said something stupid. 

Naturally, the answer was his children. Spoiler was insisting to the Flash that Signal’s meta status in Gotham was a sign that he was the favourite child. Signal was stammering and insisting it was Black Bat. Neither of them missed a beat in the fight throughout this discussion.

Black Bat handed Bruce something and then started heading around to Wonder Woman’s dragon prison. Bruce considered, sneezed, and dragged himself to the top of his own, previous prison. The little glass cottage thankfully had a flat roof which made it perfect for perching.

“Nine,” yelled Signal. After six, since it was never wise to give your foes an actual countdown when your team could be told to subtract a number ahead of time, he gestured and the entire room lit up in a bright, blinding light. All the Bats had their eyes closed or their lenses blocked so were unhampered. 

The light revealed Red Robin and Robin standing in the shattered dust of virtually all of the non-occupied glass items, Red Robin holding the remains of large fish tail that Robin had just cleaved of a glass koi with his katana. Red Hood and Nightwing were up in the rafters, Hood with his gun trained on Choo and Nightwing lounging upside down next to him. Black Bat was offering her hand to Wonder Woman as she stepped out of the glass prison. Signal was looming over Fishbowl Man while Spoiler had Choo in a headlock. 

Batman was seated on his prison while eating his soup. His delicious soup, not that Alfred would present anything less.

“What the fuck?” Asked Green Lantern, staring at Bruce. 

“Told you it was overkill,” answered the Gothamite. 

Bruce almost nodded but was distracted by Nightwing plummeting to the ground and tackling both Robins away from some sort of magic glass bomb that Fishbowl Manmanaged to detonate. Signal had done the same to Spoiler even as Black Bat ducked behind the invulnerable Wonder Woman and Red Hood sent out a shot that crushed the skull of the last glass creature snaking around the room to approach Bruce. 

Glass shards and debris rained down on the rest of the prisons, causing civilians to scream and shield themselves unnecessarily. Even Green Lantern had reflexively called a shield up inside his prison.

Bruce lowered his cape and made sure that no glass had got into his soup even as Choo pivoted, clearly not as disoriented as the others, grabbed Fishbowl Man’s hand, and started running away. 

Which, finally there was an escape plan. Too bad it wasn’t going to work. 

They made it ten steps before the first non-glass explosion. Three more before the glitter. One and a half more before the goop-trap that Spoiler and Red Robin had been trying to fix for the last two weeks and Bruce was still finding remnants of in all his shoes. 

Bruce had another sip of his soup. 

Black Bat handed her dagger to Signal with a pat on the back before following a bouncing Spoiler to inspect the results of the traps they’s set up while the boys had been introducing themselves to Fishbowl Man. For all Black Bat’s sheer fighting skill and Spoiler’s straightforward nature, the two were very fond of traps. 

Spoiler came back dragging Fishbowl Man behind her by the leg, his arms trapped to his side with the goo and his head, still incased in a glass bowl, sliding along the ground. Choo was slung over Black Bat’s shoulder in a fireman’s carry, legs and arms wrapped in cord that ended in a neat little bow.

“So. We going for ice cream after this or what?” Spoiler asked as she dropped Fishbowl Man to the ground. Black Bat was gentler as she dropped Choo, who was sat blinking for a few moments before hanging her head in resignation. 

“Dude,” said Flash. 

“I’m down,” said Nightwing as he caught the dagger Signal flung at him. Nightwing also gave a wave to the absolutely beaming Superman who was now free and trailing behind Signal. Nightwing then winked at Flash, who stared back with what might be actual awe as Nightwing started using the dagger to cut an opening through the glass. 

“Dude,” Green Lantern repeated after his friend, though he was looking to Batman instead of Nightwing or the many others. 

Bruce sipped his soup. He was savouring slowly and hadn’t sneezed since he started. 

“You’re family is wondrous,” Wonder Woman told him, coming to stand next to the glass prison Bruce was still using as a seat. 

He hummed. But it was a smug hum and the League didn’t even need the Gothamite to translate for that to be obvious.

“Bats. A whole family of Bats. How was I supposed to plan for this shit?”

“You didn’t plan for anything,” Flash, now free, pointed out at Fishbowl Man’s complaint. Flash had given Nightwing a giant hug first thing upon freedom and Flash was very  lucky Nightwing had been the one to free him. At least three of his other children would have have reacted with violence. 

“Tt. We can hardly trust the intellectual abilities of a man wearing a fishbowl on his head.” Robin crossed his arms, ignoring Wonder Woman who practically cooed at him.

“Just be quiet, Numbnuts,” agreed Spoiler, who’d been patrolling with Red Hood recently. “You’re done.”

“Done and jealous you don’t have family willing to jump into a hostage situation just to bring you soup.” Nightwing grinned as he finished up freeing Green Lantern. Green Lantern wasn’t a hugger. Green Lantern poked Nightwing in the side, as if to confirm he was real, pinched himself in the arm, as if to confirm he wasn’t dreaming, and then glared at Batman again, both hands now on his hips.

Bruce ignored him.

“I have something much better!” Fishbowl Man exclaimed, loosing most of the strength from this claim simply because he was still lying on the floor with his arms bound, speaking to the ceiling. “True Love! My beloved jumped in to save me from peril!”

“Tried to save you from peril,” Red Robin muttered. 

Wendy Choo, coughed. 

“Beloved?” Fishbowl Man craned his head off the floor until he saw at least a little bit of Choo.

“I was maybe already here. They had funnel cake! You know I love funnel cake.”

“I do,” Fishbowl Man admitted.

“And I still came for you! Once, you know, I realized the general ruckus was you.”

“You did,” he agreed, now with a sappy smile.

“Yeah, that was a mistake.” Red Robin crossed his arms as he stared at them.

Batman sniffed. There had been many mistakes today, waking up so far being the largest. 

“You can do better,” Nightwing told Choo, tossing the dagger up and down in his head as he studied the numerous other civilians and glass prisons still to go.

Choo sighed. “I know.” She then shrugged as best as she could while bound. “But he grows on you. Like parasitic mold.”

Nightwing started nodding but was interrupted. 

“So can you,” Bruce told his oldest son. 

“Excuse me?” Nightwing asked, genuinely confused.

“Do better. For a nemesis. Please find a better nemesis than Fishbowl Man.”

There was a long pause and then Red Hood fell out of the rafters. Black Bat caught him because she was very reliable. She did not, however, do anything to even try and stop the shaking laughter of her brother. 

“Slade! Blockbuster! Two Face! Fucking Trigon. Whether it’s personal vendettas or Titan enemies I have much better enemies than Fishbowl Man!” 

Red Robin stared at Bruce. “Have you been calling him Fishbowl Man in your head this entire time?”

“I mean, it fits,” said Signal, smiling widely.

“Don’t start,” Red Robin told him, pointing with his bo staff for emphasis. “If you start, I’ll start. So don’t start.”

Spoiler came and slung her arm around his shoulders, giggling uncontrollably but still able to get out full words. “Start what? Drafting the battle epic that is Nightwing’s tortured tale of his long-standing feud with Fishbowl Man? Or revelling in the fact that Batman has finally revealed the true extent of his naming capabilities?”

“Tell us, Old Man,” Red Hood finally managed to speak. “Who actually named the Batmobile? Was it really Wing?”

Bruce opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by his oldest son who had finally stopped naming off different villains to wheel back on Bruce and the other heroes. Robin had to step aside since he’d been standing next to Nightwing and assuring him of his perfectly satisfactory work. “I even led that co-ordinated Titan - Justice League effort on Luthor last week!”

“It was very well done,” said Superman, because, once again, Dick as Robin or Nightwing had somehow always been Superman’s favourite.

“Thank you, Superman!” Nightwing said with a genuine smile, because Superman had also always been his favourite. 

Bruce scowled and opened his mouth.

“Condiment King,” Nightwing hissed back at him. 

Batman closed his mouth. Fine. He had more soup to focus on anyway. 

The Gothamite had been holding it together very well, but this was too much. She started outright giggling behind her hands which also seemed to set off Red Robin, who started laughing so hard he had to lean into Spoiler for support. Even Signal was chuckling. 

Robin and Black Bat were his only two children. Never mind, Black Bat was refusing to look at him so was just as amused. Robin was glaring from behind Nightwing, defending his brother’s honour.

“This was a terrible idea. You’re all disowned.”

“Liar,” chorused multiple voices, including the traitorous Gothamite next to him. Though she, at least, spoke under her breath. 

“So.” Superman was grinning, bright and shinny and completely undeservedly. “What’s the plan?”

“Don’t look at me.” When everyone, even the kids, all turned to stare at him, Bruce crossed his arms. “I delegated, remember?”

All heads turned to Nightwing, who threw up his hands, including the one with the dagger. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.”

He marched forward, ignored Choo’s protests, and rapped the hilt of the dagger directly and forcibly onto the fishbowl surrounding Fishbowl Man’s head. The man screamed, but Bruce was pretty sure that more the fact that he hadn’t seen Nightwing coming in the slightest. 

The glass around his head split into two neat but uneven parts, falling off with a clunk. There was a much louder series of crashes and clunks as every single glass prison split in in two and collapsed to the ground. 

“Fucking what?” Green Lantern looked like he wanted to pull out his own hair.

Nightwing shrugged before tossing the magic dagger back to Black Bat and patting the dazed but still conscious formerly-Fishbowl Man on the cheek. Black Bat caught the dagger, tucked it away somewhere on her suit, and hopped up to sit by Bruce. The glass he’d been sitting on had shifted when cracking in two, but was wedged tightly enough between other pieces that he didn’t have to move much.

“Sympathetic magic. Magic dagger plus focus piece for the glass-magic plus several other factors means break the focus and the rest will break too. Shoddy spell-work not to have contingencies but this was more happenstance than actual effort. So.” 

“Just how much time have you been spending with Constantine?” Bruce couldn’t help but ask. 

Nightwing rolled his eyes. No one but a Bat would be able to tell beneath the mask but Nightwing knew that Bruce would know. “I’m friends with Raven and Zatanna, too, you know.”

Bruce lowered his soup to stare at his eldest son. Who shrugged again, unconcerned, even as Flash and Green Lantern looked like Nightwing’s nonchalance in the face of a Batglare was their final straw of sanity going up in smoke. Which was ridiculous. Dick had been mostly immune to the Blatglare from day one, and any vestigial effects disappeared the moment Dick had stated occasionally becoming Batman for coverage purposes. 

Still, Nightwing did respond. “But yeah, I called Constantine while in the rafters with Hood to confirm. Proving that friendship was the real magic all along.”

Bruce gave in and rolled his eyes under his cowl, confident that Nightwing would see the gesture. Or Nightwing would have, if he wasn’t pointing at the camera and giving that last statement to the wider audience of the country. Probably the world, at this point. The camerawoman and reporter certainly looked gleeful enough. 

Bruce went back to his soup. 

“I can’t decide if Batman casually drinking possibly poisoned soup on a mission is more surprising than the whole hidden family thing.” Flash watched Batman with a wary gaze. 

“Of course the family’s more surprising!” Green Lantern hit Flash on the shoulder. “An entire hero hidden family. I mean, I get hiding them from the public and the villains, but us? We’re supposed to be his team!”

Wonder Woman put her hand on Green Lantern’s shoulder. She, Superman, Signal, Red Robin, and Spoiler had made the rounds to do a quick check onto civilians. Spoiler at her side gave Bruce a quick all clear hand signal. Formerly Fishbowl Man had been chaotic but low on civilian injuries, thankfully. 

Wonder Woman proceeded to give a very thoughtful and kind short speech on respecting Batman’s privacy and the care he had for his clearly impressive family. Bruce was actually a little touched. Also a little concerned for the way the Gothamite was clearly holding her breath so she didn’t burst out laughing. Again.

“But they’re terrifying, though,” Flash pointed out. All Bruce’s little Monsters subtly preened at the comment. “Even if, especially if, the yellow one is actually the only meta.” Flash’s tone said he doubted that was the case. 

“My name’s Signal. And yup. Only one with powers.” Signal was now officially the only one other than Robin that had introduced himself. All of Bruce’s monsters were also heathens, though Bruce supposed many of his children were independently known to the League and they’d been calling each other’s names out loud for a while now.

Red Robin shrugged, coming to lean on Signal’s shoulder. “I mean, no alien or meta genes for the rest of us. Though I remain unconvinced that Black Bat isn’t some reincarnated fighting goddess or that Demon Brat doesn’t have actual demon in him somewhere.”

Robin protested, loudly, even as Nightwing wrapped an arm around his baby brother. He didn’t even get stabbed for the liberty. 

“Don’t worry, Baby Bird, Hood called me demonic last week.”

“You have no bones!” Hood replied, crossing his arms for emphasis.

“I have bones, I promise,” Nightwing said to a concerned-looking Superman. “I’m just a bit of a contortionist.”

Superman looked suitably impressed while Wonder Woman turned to Black Bat. “Fighting goddess?”

Black Bat shook her head. Four of Bruce’s other children all said, “Yes.”

“She’s out best fighter,” Nightwing translated.

Wonder Woman looked back and this time both Black Bat and Batman nodded. Wonder Woman grinned. 

“Still. Flash is right. Terrifying! Yet Spooky hid them from his team.” Green Lantern was apparently stuck on the point.

The Gothamite, freed and managing to stay quiet for quite a while now, finally snorted. “Yeah, his second team.” She tilted back her hat to stare down Earth’s heroes. “He coordinates with you what? For emergencies? Weekly meetings? Regular outreach programs? Please. Batman and his Bats coordinate every night to keep the beloved shit-stain that is Gotham functional and far safer than my parents certainly believed it could ever be. Not to mention that said coordination has taken place for many more years than the Justice League has even existed.”

“Don’t even,” Nightwing took over when the pause started leaning towards the implications of child soldiers. He spoke to the team and also the camera, which he, at least, had clearly never forgotten was there. 

“We’re all adopted. I’m the oldest and can easily and honestly say we were all out there already. Determined to stay on the streets and help and fight for our own reasons and circumstances. Batman isn’t perfect; no father is, but when he couldn’t stop us, and he did try, he adapted. He made sure we were equipped, trained, loved, and not going to die just because we started young and alone. We did not stay alone with his help. And we made sure he didn’t stay alone either.”

Bruce thought about saying something, he did, but then Hood leaned back slightly and pressed his shoulder into Bruce’s knee and that was Bruce’s baby who’d been dead and now wasn’t and had been coming around the manor more to shout at Bruce about books instead of vigilante topics and Bruce was so proud of his children.

“And they’d eat you.” The Gothamite crossed her arms, backpack shifting slightly, hand-sewn Bat-symbol patch flashing in the light. “Like so hard. Batman was protecting the Justice League from his kids, remember? Not the other way around.”

There was a long pause accompanied by shifting glass and quiet steps as the civilians in the furthest parts of the hall, the ones not direct witness to the Batfamily Drama as his children would put it, trickled out of the building. Even Choo and the dazed but slowly focusing formerly Fishbowl Man on her shoulder were now joining the League in staring at Batman. 

“Nightwing’s right,” Batman admitted. “I can’t stop them. I tried.” 

Nightwing grinned, probably not so much at being told he was right as at the memories flicking through both their minds of the lengths Bruce had gone to try and keep a baby acrobat in the fucking Manor. There had been locks and bribes and begging and four completely new security systems. 

“You should be very grateful that they have the largest and kindest hearts I’ve ever met and better morals than I could every possess because they’re incredible. I couldn’t stop them when they were by themselves and they’re much worse now that they’re all together. I couldn’t win against all of them. Not that I would, but I can’t. You’d last even less time. I’ve run scenarios. And simulations.” Bruce paused, considered, and decided he agreed with the Gothamite. “They would definitely eat you.”

 There was a short silence accented by smugness from the Gothamite and crunching glass from everyone else’s shifting feet. 

“Well, that’s terrifying,” Flash told a very delighted Wonder Woman and Superman. Green Lantern nodded at his friend’s side, though he froze at Nightwing’s chuckle. 

“Well yeah,” said Nightwing. “That was the plan.” 

Bruce looked at his eldest and the way he was slowly being flanked by Robin, Red Robin, Spoiler, and Signal. Hood and Black Bat didn’t move from beside Bruce, though they didn’t flinch under Bruce’s stare either. 

Bruce held back a sigh wich turned into holding back a sneeze. He recapped his soup, which had the additional benefit of preventing him from trying to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“What do you mean, young warrior?” Wonder Woman asked.

Nightwing tilted his head in a bird-like gesture Bruce had caught him practicing when he was younger. “Our Gothamite has been highly correct so far, but she was wrong about one thing. Batman has been spending a lot of time with the Justice League, lately. Which is a good thing, don’t get me wrong. He’s helping a lot of people, improving the League, and socializing with his peers so gold stars all around. But you lot seem to get into quite a few…let’s call them situations.”

His children were all hypocrites. Nightwing and Red Robin had been trapped in a video game two weeks ago, Hood had been crowing about solving a mission with his flower-arranging skills, Robin was taking care of a basilisk he’d recently rescued, and the girls has a bet going on about who could get the most life-stories out of their villains with casual conversations. Signal in the lead.

Nightwing didn’t acknowledge Bruce’s glare, too busy turning to the League members. And the camera. He was angled directly towards the camera. 

With a shrug, Nightwing brushed glass off of Robin’s shoulder, not even bothering to gesture to the ruined glass creatures at their feet or Formerly Fishbowl Man sprawled across the floor. “So we thought we’d add to Dad’s plan a bit. He was very general, after all. A little rescue. A little soup. A little reminder.”

Nightwing paused as he grinned. It was a Gotham Grin, genuine mirth, pointy teeth, and gloom-edged promise. 

“There’s always a plan.”

The lights went out again and Bruce felt small but strong hands at his belt. He followed their direction more than willingly. 

On the roof, Bruce surveyed his children. “Good work,” he told them and watched as they scoffed or preened according to their nature. Black Bat signed the same sentiment back at him from where she’d wedged herself under his shoulder. The move could look like she wanted affection but was really because she could read the slight unsteadiness to Bruce’s stare.

“Wicked,” said the Gothamite, hopping down from Nightwing’s back and looking at the Batplane parked on the roof. 

“Figured we could drop you off. You’ll need to report to the police station for clean up but this saves you being interrogated by the League.”

“They wouldn’t have gotten anything out of me,” the Gothamite grinned.

“Naturally,” said Spoiler, going for a fist bump with the girl. “Narrows strong.”

“Too right.” Red Hood draped his arms over both girls, rubbing his fist into Spoiler’s head as he did so. 

“Are you denying the trip in the Batplane?” Nightwing asked.

“Not on your life.” The Gothamite bounced on her toes a bit. “Besides, I still owe Robin photos of Shellwing.”

“This is true,” Robin asserted from her side where he’d been waiting. 

“Ask,” Black Bat said from Bruce’s side. 

“Pardon?” The Gothamite looked up from the phone she’d been reaching to grab from her pocket. 

“Have question. Earned answer.”

The Gothamite blushed, and then glared at the sun because her curiosity wouldn’t have been as noticeable in Gotham gloom. She also squared her shoulders. “Can I get a selfie? I mean, I obviously don’t want to put anyone in danger or make them uncomfortable or anything, but it’s not often we get one of you much less all of you when the streets aren’t shaking apart or being filled with toxic smoke or something.”

“Sure,” said Bruce to everyone’s surprise. “Red Robin can take it.”

Red Robin looked startled and stopped trying to escape Signal’s increasingly less subtle attempts from keeping him away from the Batplane.

“I was going to start the plane?”

“I don’t think so, Baby Bird.” Nightwing came up to flank Red Robin, much to Signal’s obvious relief. “No flying planes on less than forty-eight hours.”

“I’ve slept!” 

“More than the catnaps I trapped you into?”

“Yes!”

All eyes traveled to Black Bat, even the Gothamite’s, those hers were a step behind.

Black Bat studied Red Robin for a moment. “Lie.”

“Fuck you all,” muttered Red Robin even as he capitulated and he reached for one of the small drones on his belt. “The Batplane has autopilot.”

“I’ll fly the plane,” Nightwing said with a friendly nudge to his brother. “Part of leadership duties, right. Unless you’re taking back over?”

Bruce looked up at his oldest son during this last bit. Then back over his children, perfectly healthy and smiling with the occasional patches of glass dust across their suits. Then at the canister in his hand. 

“No. I will be consuming the rest of my soup. I wouldn’t want it to get cold.”

The soup was in a Bat-thermos. It wouldn’t get cold. His children didn’t call him on it. 

They were pretty good kids. When they weren’t threatening half the world, at least.

TheGothamiteKnows posted a photo: [A young woman with bright purple hair under a large hat, a pair of sunglasses, and a Wayne Industries gas mask covering the bottom of her face is standing back to back with a grinning Spoiler. Nightwing has his arm around a scowling Robin and Red Hood. Red Hood is counter-attacking the affection by leaning his weight very obviously on Nightwing who’s grinning while bracing against a smiling Signal’s side. Black Bat is tucked under Batman’s arm, half obscured by his cape and yanking Red Robin further into the picture. Red Robin’s gauntlet is slightly raised and glowing. Batman is holding a silver canister with a yellow bat clearly emblazoned on the the side. 

Captioned: That time you crash the family outing of Gotham’s most famous family.

Justice League Chat

Green Lantern: Batsy

Green Lantern: Batsy

Green Lantern: Batsy

Green Lantern: Batsy

Green Lantern: Come on, Spooky, you’ve got explaining to do.

Superman: I will admit to having a few questions.

Flash: A few?!?!?

Oracle: Sorry, Batman’s taking a sick day.

Green Lantern: Who the fuck are you?

Flash: And how did you get in this chat?

Oracle: I’m Batman’s tech support.

Oracle: Which I believe that answers both questions. 

Oracle: If you feel you need a Bat, however, Nightwing has volunteered to come help out.

Green Lantern: Uh.

Flash: Um.

Superman: It’s always lovely to see Nightwing!

Superman: Though I hope Batman feels better soon.

Wonder Woman: We do not currently have a mission requiring Batman’s assistance.

Wonder Woman: Please pass on our gratitude and warm wishes of health.

Oracle: Sure.

Oracle: Your call.

Green Lantern: Is it really?

Oracle: Not in the slightest. 

NightwingLikesMyPunches posted a photo: [A young teenager with bright pink hair holds up a small tortoise to the window where Robin is perched, one hand on the sill and the other offering the tortoise a piece of lettuce.]

Captioned: Robin meets Shellwing’s brother, Red Shell!

Breaking News! Click here to see a curated list of the hottest and latest Bat-stories to hit the world with the force of a Bat-thermos of Soup

The Daily Planet 

Heroes Lurking in the Shadows! Hidden faces and Hidden Families!

Found Family in the Darkest of Places 

Additional Help: Teamwork and Team Dynamics as applied in Heroism and Capitalism 

Hero News by USA Times

20 Best Batfamily Reactions

Analysis of the ‘Batfamily’ Stregths and Weaknesses 

Fishbowl Man Faces his Reflection in Prison

Flash ‘Run’ Meme Voted Best Meme of the Week in Poll

Birdspotters 

Spoiler, Nightwing, and Black Bat spotted playing tag with Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy around Queen St.

Robin visits Humane Society to Promote Adoption with Pictures of Pups!

Red Robin and Red Hood are fighting each other by the old street fountain, both claim to be namesake for turtle

From the Gotham Globe

The Birds’ Subtle Threat to the World: Hurt Batman and Face Consequences

The World’s Reaction and Why it Took Them so Long to Realize Batman is Never Alone

From the Gotham Gazette

The Bat-Order Has Been Lifted: Ten Ways to Prove Our Heroes are Better Than Theirs

Bat Burger Releases New Soup! Sewer Water features pasta bat wings, hearts, and roaches with delicious chicken served in a green broth just like Mama used to make!

Wayne Industries Statement: Wayne Industries declares no stake in the public debate that has sprung up from a citizen claim of the recently publicly revealed ‘Batfamily’ being ‘Gotham’s most famous family.’ Bruce Wayne has stated that he has nothing but respect for the vigilantes of Gotham and would be willing to accept tips from Batman on corralling exuberant children. 

Overheard at WayneIndustries: 

Officially, we have nothing to do with anything - early suggestion for official statement 

Challenge accepted - Tim Drake, CEO

Hold onto your Wayne Industries Gas Masks, people - anonymous