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Chapter Text

Bruce Wayne set down his flute of champagne and smiled winningly at his current conversation partner. "It's been a joy to discuss the minute details of your newest diet, but unfortunately it's past time for me to get my kids to bed." His expression turned chagrinned, as if keeping his eleven-year-old out past 1:00 am wasn't something he did nightly, and usually much later than that. Fortunately, his somewhat buzzed companion took his charm at face value and smiled sloppily at him.

"Of course, Brucie," she said in what was probably supposed to be a flirtatious manner. "Call me sometime. We'll have fun." Bruce doubted that, but he nodded anyway and then darted away before she could latch onto his suit jacket's sleeve.

It was easy to find his youngest son. Damian tended to emit waves of antisocialness that grew more potent the longer he was made to suffer at these events. Therefore, all Bruce had to do was find the least populated area of the ballroom and he was sure to stumble upon the boy. Damian had commandeered an antique settee in the darkest corner of the lavishly decorated room and was frowning deeply as he stabbed at the screen of his smart phone. To Bruce's surprise, his sons' "bodyguard" was seated at a right angle from Damian, smirking as he played with his own phone. It was easy enough to deduce that Jason and Damian had gotten into a verbal tiff that the older boy was currently winning. In order to rub it in, Jason was staying nearby.

"Father, I demand that you dispose of this useless employee and that we leave this despicable party at once." Damian's dark blue eyes were made all the more intense by his frustration. Bruce struggled not to let his smile show on his face or in his eyes. Jason didn't bother. Damian's glower became all the more heated at the sound of his brother's snickering.

"I can't help you with the first, but I'm in full agreement with you on the second," Bruce replied. Damian eyed him suspiciously when he detected the hint of teasing in his father's voice, but held his peace.

As was his habit, the boy stepped into Bruce's shadow. If asked, Damian would loudly declare that his duties as Robin never ceased and that he was merely watching Batman's six. Bruce and his two older boys figured that Damian's numerous insecurities drove him to the safety of his father's side. His second youngest didn't have an opinion that he shared, likely because he attempted to do the same. Many of Tim's and Damian's fights started when the two tried to occupy the same space.

"So, Mr. Bodyguard," Bruce said quietly. "Where are the rest of your charges?" He knew that Jason didn't take his "job" seriously, which was fine in that the legally alive Wayne boys were more than capable of taking care of themselves. It was more of an excuse for Bruce to drag his lost and found son along to these functions as well, despite his late adopted son Jason Todd still officially being dead.

Jason glanced up for a second before looking back down at his phone. "Goldie is embarrassing himself with a broad way out of his league and the know-it-all hunkered down with his tablet about an hour ago."

"You two go collect Dick and I'll find Tim," Bruce decided. "Meet me at the car in ten minutes."

His fifteen year old adopted son had found a convenient intersection between the heavy curtains and a potted fake plant. Bruce was the only one who could sneak up on the teenager, and it was made easier by the fact that Tim had in earphones and was deeply invested in whatever hack he was running remotely from his next generation Wayne Tech tablet. "Hey kid," Bruce said, just loud enough for the boy to sense him over the noise from his earphones. To his disappointment, Tim didn't jump or otherwise react, save for the very deliberate way he blacked the screen on his computer before slowly tilting his head upward.

"Hey, B."

"We're heading out." He offered a hand to pull Tim to his feet. Once he was free of the plastic plant, Tim scanned the nearby vicinity for Damian. Finding that the youngest Bat wasn't nearby, Tim fell into step next to Bruce. A few of the lingering guests stopped Bruce for a last ditch effort to network, and he kindly turned them away. However, it still put them behind schedule and by the time they reached the car, Dick had already claimed the driver's seat.

"I don't think so," Bruce said, leaning down to peer into the lit interior. Jason fiddled with his lighter in the passenger seat.

"I'm a great driver," Dick protested. "And you owe me for tonight."

"I don't owe you this," Bruce argued. He should have been able to resist a twenty-two-year-old turning puppy eyes on him for longer than ten seconds. In his defense, Tim was tugging on his arm, urging him to give in so that they could go home. Dick grinned victoriously and turned up the radio as Bruce suffered to scoot to the middle of the backseat. Considering that it was usually his eldest's duty to sit between his youngest brothers, he could see why Dick would fight him for the driver's seat.

Dick steered the car into the light traffic and started toward home. It was peaceful until a particularly grating song came on the radio, which prompted Dick to start singing along. Tim popped back in his own earphones and Damian's expression started to look constipated.

"What kind of terrible shit is this?" Jason asked, reaching for the radio dial. Dick batted his hand away, to which Jason retaliated by lightly shoving his older brother's shoulder.

"You wouldn't know good music if it bit you in the ass," Dick retorted, slapping his hand over the controls to the radio.

"You are tone death," Jason accused him. "Right, demon brat?"

"Both of you have atrocious taste in music," Damian snapped. "And don't call me demon brat!"

"Quit it," Bruce scolded. He pressed Damian back against his seat and sent Jason a look through the rear-view mirror, which was inexplicably turned toward Jason instead of Dick. "Richard, both hands on the wheel."

Dick complied, but not without getting in one last dig at Jason. "Don't touch the tunes, little brother."

"Little?" Jason puffed out his chest. "I'm a good two inches taller than you and easily outweigh you by fifty pounds."

"Probably because you should lay off of the chili dogs," Dick rejoined.

"All right, that's it," Jason decided. He shot his hand out before Dick could react and changed the radio station. He intercepted Dick's attempts to change it back.

"Jason," Dick whined pitifully. "That's my favorite song."

"No, it's not," Jason argued. He changed the channel again. Dick remembered the controls on the steering wheel and fought his brother that way, though at first he hit the volume button instead. Bruce felt a headache coming on and suddenly wished that he didn't live so far out of town.

"Boys…" His warning went unheeded as the two in front continued to bicker. When the disagreement turned physical, Bruce cleared his throat loudly. Next to him, Tim tapped out a short sequence on his tablet and then the radio turned off completely. Dick gaped at the dash while Jason sniggered.

"Baby bird," Dick said mournfully. He twisted the rear-view mirror back into place so he could see his brother in the backseat. Tim merely smiled innocently at him before dropping his head back down as he flipped to what he'd been working on.

Jason turned around to look at Bruce face on. "You let smarty-pants hack the computer on the Bentley, old man?"

Bruce frowned in annoyance at the eighteen-year-old. "Yes, that's exactly it. I let him do it." Jason broke into hearty laughter while Dick continued to stare pitifully at Tim through the mirror.

Damian scowled and leaned forward so he could see his biggest rival around the large form of his father. "Drake, I demand that you give me that program so that I may also make use of it."

"Um, no," Tim replied.

Bruce leaned forward himself just in case Damian really did develop the ability to maim people with the force of his glare. "Damian, ask you brothers for things you want; do not demand them," he repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. "Dick, keep your eyes on the road."

"Relax, B," Dick countered. "I could make this drive with my eyes closed. In fact, I have."

"What?" Bruce growled out the question to disguise the brief stutter of his heart.

"What?" Ice blue eyes met ocean blue in the mirror. Unfortunately, all of his boys were immune to his glares by now. Dick had the gall to wink at him and Bruce considered forcing him to pull over so that he could drive. He didn't know how Tim, Damian, and Jason could seem so unfazed by Dick's reckless driving. Bruce was seriously going to reconsider letting his eldest borrow any of the Batmobiles again.

Jason turned in his seat again and smacked Tim's knee. "You can turn over the controls now, runt." Tim merely shot his brother a disparaging look and did not turn the radio back on. Jason eagerly accepted the challenge and stretched further, trying to steal the tablet. He was practically in Bruce's lap to get to Tim who sat behind Dick. The weary father pushed his second son back into the front seat.

"Stop messing around," he ordered. He didn't have to look to know that Tim was very maturely sticking his tongue out at his irritated brother. "Timothy." Damian smirked as Tim huffed and hugged his computer possessively against his chest.

The car jerked as something scraped the undercarriage loudly. A moment later, Dick swerved to avoid a gaping pothole that had suddenly appeared in the middle of the downtown Gotham City roadway. "What the fuck?" Jason demanded, forgetting about the radio and scooting forward as far as his seatbelt would allow so he could see the rapidly appearing obstacles. "Left. Left!"

"Shut up!" Dick had slipped seamlessly into his Nightwing persona and was doing a rather remarkable job dodging the worst of the heaving asphalt in the sometimes boaty luxury sedan. Still it was a rough ride.

"Pull over," Bruce demanded. Around them, car alarms sounded and screeching tires echoed as the other drivers tried to get off the dangerous road.

"No, don't!" Tim had twisted around in the seat to stare out the back of the car. Bruce turned as well to see the earth looking as though it was being unzipped, right along the center of the road, and the crack was quickly catching up to the car.

"Right. Left!" The car thumped heavily. "I said left!"

"I told you to shut up!"

"For fuck's sake--!"

"Grayson, stop!" Damian's choked shout caused Bruce to snap his head around, just in time to see the brightly glowing portal that had opened directly in their path, just before the car sped into it. It was blinding, causing Bruce to throw his arms up to shield his eyes. Dick floored the brake, drawing the smell of burning rubber from beneath the car, but it didn't stop the vehicle from careening over the edge of the road and coming to a jarring halt. Where once there was overwhelming white light, now there was blackness.

to be continued...