Chapter Text
The chaos had mostly moved toward the kitchen, leaving Bruce in the parlor with Rosa and Victor Vasquez. Rosa sat back on the couch, exhausted but smiling, while Victor looked like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or question every life choice that brought him here.
“Well,” Rosa said at last, her tone hovering between admiration and disbelief, “your family knows how to commit to a performance.”
Bruce’s mouth twitched. “Performance,” he echoed, glancing toward the hall where Pedro was still tracking him like an overzealous security guard.
Victor chuckled. “I think half of them forgot this is a game.”
“I’m not sure the other half ever knew,” Bruce admitted.
Rosa smirked. “Parenting children really is just… adapting to whatever disaster they invent on the spot.”
Bruce gave a dry huff of agreement. “And pretending you’re in control of the situation.”
Victor leaned back, nodding knowingly. “Your kids really know how to turn an evening into a…production.”
Bruce shrugged slightly. “I tried limiting some things.”
“Mm-hm,” Rosa said, unconvinced. “For the record, I think Darla and Ace knows exactly what happened. She’s just milking the suspense.”
Bruce glanced at her. “Really?”
Rosa nodded. “Smart kid. Knows how to keep her audience hooked.”
From the hallway came Freddy’s exaggerated death groan, followed by Tim’s immediate cry of, “Flashback time!”
Bruce closed his eyes briefly. “This is going to be a long night.”
Victor raised his coffee cup in salute. “To surviving the chaos.”
Bruce gave a small nod and lifted his own cup. “To surviving.”
Rosa laughed softly. “You sound like a man who’s been through it.”
“I have,” Bruce said simply, but the corner of his mouth curved just enough to suggest he wasn’t entirely complaining.
Victor leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You ever try making a rule in your house and have it immediately turned into a competition to see who can break it most creatively?”
Bruce didn’t blink. “That’s every rule in my house.”
Victor let out a quiet “hmm,” the sound carrying more understanding than words ever could.
They all sat in companionable silence for a moment, punctuated by a loud crash from the kitchen and Tim’s distant, “It was self-defense! ”
Rosa smiled knowingly. “I knew they’d all get along just fine.”
Bruce allowed himself a genuine smile. “That’s the problem.”