Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tim wakes up in his bedroom, eyes snapping open suddenly. He sits up quickly, eyes darting around the dark, noticing he was alone. Tim didn't want to be alone, not right now, and the feeling building in his chest only grew until his vision blurred with tears and his cheeks became wet.

He was feeling little, like everything was too big and he was too small. Tim was sometimes embarrassed of being an age regressor, of being so dependent of people, on his family, when he felt like this.

He had been regressing ever since he was Robin, to cope with everything that was happening. It had been scary, at first, when he had basically no idea what he felt until he did his own research. Now, Tim wasn't alone anymore, he had the Waynes. He had Dick, he had Bruce, Alfred, and even Jason and Damian.

It had taken a while for him to feel comfortable enough near them to regress, to explain what it was. Tim had only told them after Jason had apologized for everything — they both knew it wasn't enough, but it was a start, and Jason really was trying to make up for everything.

They all had a long talk, at a family dinner, about Tim being an age regressor and what it meant. Bruce had taken the chance to spoil him rotten, to make up for his time as Robin when the man had been nothing but distant most days. God, it was everything Tim could have ever asked for. He had a family that loved and cared about him.

But right now, with Tim feeling all alone and probably the youngest he's ever been, he couldn't help but cry. He hadn't even realized he was being loud enough until he heard a knock on his bedroom door.

"Tim? 'M coming in, okay?" Tim heard Jason's voice, a tad bit slurred and deep from sleep. The door opened slowly, silently, as Jason made his way inside. "What's wrong, little dude? Why're you crying?" Jason asked worryingly as he sat down on the bed next to Tim, who could only cry and make what Dick liked to call 'grabby hands' towards the man.

He climbed onto Jason's lap, burying his wet face on the man's shoulder. Jason let him cry, soothingly rubbing his back and whispering small things in his ear, trying to coach him to calm down.

"Shh, it's alright. You're safe, Baby Bird, I'm here." Jason whispered, not pulling away even when Tim had finally calmed down enough to stop sobbing. "What's wrong, Birdie? Did you have a nightmare?"

Tim shook his head against Jason's shoulder, sniffling. "Wa– 'Was Dark, and alone…" He mumbles, clinging to his older brother. Jason was always so warm, and his bulk made him the perfect pillow. 

"You're not alone anymore, Timmy. I'm here, it's okay." Jason shushes him, pulling back to grab a wipe from the bedside table so he could wipe Tim's tears away. "C'mon, why don't we get up, hm? It's already…" He pauses to look over at the alarm clock. "It's almost eight o'clock, Alfred must already be up."

Jason shifts Tim on his lap, getting up with Tim on his hip like a baby. "Let's go downstairs and eat something before we start the day. I'll be with you the whole time, don't worry." Jason didn't bother filling up the silence that took over as he grabbed a pacifier from nearby and Tim's security blanket, which was a light gray with an elephant's head.

He pushes the pacifier into Tim's mouth, handing his the blanket before making his way downstairs towards the kitchen. Alfred was already up, unsurprisingly, and was setting up the coffee pot for Bruce.

"G'morning, Alfie." Jason greets the old butler as he makes his way towards the fridge. "Ah, Master Jason, and Master Tim. You're up earlier than usual." Alfred says as he turns on the coffee machine, already thinking of what to make for breakfast. 

"Yeah, little Timmy here woke me up. 'Guess he got scared or something, he's practically non-verbal." Jason grabs the baby bottle full of milk Alfred always set up whenever he suspected Tim would regress, popping it into the microwave to heat up.

It was nothing too special, just plain milk with a splash of vanilla, but Tim went crazy for it. He always asked for a bottle at least once or twice a day whenever he was regressed, and nobody could deny him.

Jason grabs the bottle from the microwave after it was done, Tim still perched on his hip, and sits down on one of the chairs at the table. He wanted to keep Alfred company while feeding his little brother.

Jason sets Tim on his lap as comfortably as he could, taking the binky away — which was Nightwing themed — before replacing it with the nipple of the baby bottle. "Drink up, Timmy, so you grow big and strong like your brother." Jason couldn't help teasing, even though Tim was probably not listening to him.

The black-haired teen suckled slowly, his grip loose on his security blanket as he let Jason hold the bottle for him. By the time he was done, Bruce and Dick had made their way downstairs.

"Good morning," Both of them say, almost at the same time. "Aw, is my little brother feeling little?" Dick coos at Tim, placing a small kiss to the boy's forehead before sitting down next to Jason. Alfred had already set a few things down at the table, but it wasn't until Damian came down that they were allowed to eat.

Jason had set the empty bottle aside, and had Tim sitting properly on his lap now, who looked a bit more awake. "Do you want a waffle, baby? I know you like those." Jason was already grabbing one and cutting into it before the boy could even respond. 

"Waffle," Tim nods, apparently now feeling up to speaking and not as tired as before. "Wif' syrup." He watched as Jason cut the waffle into bite sized pieces and drizzled it with a bit of syrup. "Eat up, Timmy." 

Tim didn't have to be told twice before starting to eat, grabbing the pieces with his fingers instead of bothering to use a fork. They ate mostly in silence as everyone started to wake up properly as they got their fill of caffeine or food.

"So, Timmy," Dick starts saying, resisting the urge to coo at his little brother when Tim looks at him with those big, bright blue eyes. "How about we go to the park after eating?" Dick was always spoiling Tim, doing anything the boy asked.

"The park with the doggies?" Tim asks with his mouth full, squirming when Jason wiped a few crumbs from his face with a napkin. "Yup! I know how much you like the doggies, and you need some fresh air too." Dick smiles, running his hand through Tim's messy hair.

"I wan' go!" Tim agrees with a smile, practically jumping out of Jason's lap, but he's stopped by said man. "Not so fast, kid. You gotta change out of these pajamas and brush your teeth first. " Jason chuckles, wiping Tim's hands with the same napkin.

"Don't forget to put some sunscreen on him, you know how he gets in the sun after a while." Bruce chimes in, taking a sip of his coffee. Of course he would worry about Tim, the boy was his little baby.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, old man, we aren't gonna let little Timmy be sunburnt." Jason rolls his eyes and stands up from his seat with Tim in his arms. "C'mon, let's go get changed." He says as he carries the little towards the nursery, which Bruce had built for Tim when the family had 'the talk'. It was a nursery and a playroom, filled with toys, childish and comfortable clothes, everything they needed.

Jason sets Tim down on a changing table, built specifically for him. "Lets get out of this pajamas." He mutters more to himself before he helps Tim out of his shirt and pajama pants, leaving the boy in only a diaper.

Jason would tease him, if only Tim wasn't still feeling so vulnerable from before. Instead, he undoes the tapes of the diaper, pulling it away and tossing it in the trashcan before grabbing a wipe. Jason cleans Tim thoroughly, using a bit of baby powder before taping up a new, clean pull-up. 

"There we go, all clean now." Jason plans a small kiss to the boy's stomach, smirking when he hears Tim giggle. "Stay put, kid. I'll grab some clothes for you to wear." 

Jason eventually settles for a simple black and white stripped shirt, black cargo pants that were baggy enough to hide the pull-up, and red Converse shoes. "Aren't you the cutest little kid in the world." Jason teases as he brushes Tim's hair.

The boy in question pouts, his cheeks going a light shade of red. "'M not cute, Jay. Not a kid." Tim shakes his head, even though he was, at least mentally, nothing more than a little kid at the moment.

"Sure, kid." Jason chuckles, picking Tim up once more. "C'mon, let's go find Dickie so we can go to the park and you can pet all the dogs you want." He says as he walks towards the door, watching Dick put on his shoes.

"You ready to go, Boy Wonder?" Jason sets Tim down for a second in order to put on his boots, grabbing the kid's hand when he's done. "Yeah, I'm all ready." Dick turns around, giving Tim's cheek a little squeeze. "Aww, look at my baby! So cute, munchkin." He teases, which only causes Tim to blush and hide his face on Jason's chest.

"Let's go, Dickie. I wanna pet the doggies!" Tim quickly changes the subject, practically jumping with each step he took as they walk out of the house and towards Dick's car. "Careful not to trip, kid." Jason warns, opening the door for Tim and strapping the kid in with the seatbelt.

"And don't even think about taking that seatbelt off, you hear me?" Jason says while closing the door and getting into the passenger seat, Dick already starting the car.

Tim huffs, but says nothing, instead giving Jason's seat a light kick. He looks out the window, watching the manor pass by and the scenario. But he soon enough looks away, getting a little dizzy. "Dickie, I want my binky." Tim whines, fidgeting with the seatbelt but not taking it off.

"You can't have your binky in public, baby. You know that." Dick sighs, knowing it brought comfort to the boy, but they couldn't risk someone seeing Tim with it. The cons of being the son of a billionaire, if one person got a hold of a picture of Tim in such a vulnerable position, their image could get ruined.

Tim knew that, having already been rich way before getting adopted by Bruce. He knew the risks, and while he still went out while regressed, he still couldn't — and wouldn't — dare being caught with a pacifier in public. Diapers were the only thing he could wear in public, because they couldn't be visible with baggy pants, so nobody would caught on it.

Still, that didn't mean that regressed Timmy liked it, and he couldn't help the whine that escaped his mouth, but didn't complain. "Are we 'lmost there?" Tim mumbles instead, kicking Jason's seat once more.

"Yeah, bud. We're here." Jason replies as Dick parks the car and turns the engine off. "Are you excited to pet the doggies, Timmy?" Dick coos, turning towards said boy before getting out of the car. Jason was already out and opening the door for Tim, who's quick to jump out of his seat.

"Yeah! Come on!" Tim jumps in place, grabbing Jason's hand as they walk towards a bench and sit down. "Come here first, Timberlina." Jason calls out, pushing Tim towards him. "You can play and pet how many dogs you want, but don't go too far, okay? Stay where we can see you. Now go, shoo." 

At the permission, Tim runs towards one of the dogs nearby, crouching down and calling towards it. Dick and Jason stayed by the bench, both men watching Tim run around and play with the dogs. 

They stay there for around one hour until Tim gets tired and runs back towards his brothers. "Jay, Dickie! I'm hungry." He whines, sitting down on the bench next to Dick, who pulls him into a hug. Tim was a bit sweaty from running around and playing.

"There's a bakery nearby, I'm pretty sure." Jason says towards Dick, who nods his head and stands up. "Alright, we'll go there and buy something to eat, but we're eating at home. Got it?" Dick tells Tim, grabbing his hand and walking to the car. "We can get a little treat, and then you can have it at home with some milk. What do you think, buddy?"

"I want milk." Tim mumbles, nodding as he enters the car, letting his brother buckle him up before getting to his own seat. "Of course you do." Jason chuckles quietly, turning on some children's music at a low volume to keep Tim entertained. 

Dick ends up buying a box of cookies to share with the rest of the family. Jason had stayed in the car with Tim, who was happily singing alone to the song playing on the radio. The rest of the car ride back to the manor is like this, and soon enough they're back home.

"Dickie, I had an accident…" Tim mumbles as they enter the house, squirming a bit in place due to the uncomfortable feeling of a full diaper. Before Dick could speak, Jason chimed in. "Don't even look at me. You're gonna be the one to change him, I ain't dealing with a poopy diaper." 

Dick sighs, already dreading having to change Tim. "I hope you burn in hell." He tells Jason with a whiny tone in his voice as he guides Tim towards the nursery upstairs, hearing Jason's laugh fade away.

"It's okay, kiddo. We'll get you clean in no time." Dick opens the door, grimacing when Tim sits down on the changing table before laying down. "Alright, let's get this dealt with…" Dick mumbles to himself, pushing Tim's pants down and undoing the diaper.

Dick couldn't help cringing at the sight, but didn't want to embarrass his younger brother. Tim had so much trouble and anxieties about regressing near the family at the start, and now he was so comfortable. Dick didn't want that to change.

So, instead of complaining, he simply grabs a wet wipe and starts cleaning the mess, chucking the dirty wipes onto the trashcan under the changing table. "Do you have a rash, baby? Awn, poor kiddo." Dick says as he grabs the rash cream, applying just a bit to Tim's skin where it was a little red. It was nothing too worrying, thankfully. 

"Dickie, 'is cold…" Tim whines, kicking one of his legs. He usually wasn't too fussy about getting changed, knowing it was best to just get it done with. But he was still a kid mentally, and even behaved kids were sometimes a little fussy.

"There, there. I know, Timmy." Dick pats his little brother's leg, grabbing a clean diaper and putting it on Tim. "It's only ten in the morning, let's go eat a cookie with some apple juice. C'mon." Dick grabs Tim after pushing the boy's pants back on, putting one of Tim's pacifiers in his pocket before walking downstairs. 

Jason was already eating one of the cookies with a cup of coffee and looked up when he heard footsteps. "All clean now, Timkerbell?" He grins, reaching towards his little brother as Dick passes Tim over to him, setting him down on Jason's lap.

"I'll go get him some juice." Dick ruffles Tim's hair, handing Jason the pacifier before walking towards the fridge. "How're you feeling now, buddy?" Jason asks, pulling Tim closer to him and running his hand through the boy's hair.

"I want Daddy, and m'sippy." Tim huffs, his hand gripping Jason's red T-shirt. He was pretty clingy while regressed, always wanting to be near someone, and they would never deny him of affection. 

"Daddy's at the cave right now, little boy's aren't supposed to go there." Jason boops his brother's nose, getting a small giggle out of Tim. "He will be back soon, don't worry." Just in time, Dick walks over with a Batman themed sippy cup filled with apple juice.

"Now you can have your cookie! But only one, because lunch will be in just two hours." Dick passes over the cup to Tim, who's quick to latch onto it and start drinking, accepting the chocolate chip cookie the man hands him.

Time passes by quickly, with Tim mostly watching cartoons or playing. By lunch, he was already acting fussy, just like when Dick had been changing his diaper. It was pretty uncommon of Tim to act like that, unless he was feeling sick or frustrated.

The boy was sitting at the dinner table next to Bruce, who sat at the head of the table, and Dick. They had traded seats, Tim and Dick, because the Little had almost started crying, saying he wanted to be 'close to his Daddy'. Nobody wanted a crying toddler, so Dick simply moved.

Now, of all things, Tim was refusing to eat anything they set in front of him. He wouldn't eat the pasta Alfred had made, or the veggies, or even any meat. Alfred had even offered dessert, but all Tim had done was push his plate away and huff.

"Son, you have to eat something. We can't let you stay on an empty stomach." Bruce chimes in, even though Tim had eaten a single cookie three hours ago. "Don't wanna!" Tim whines, eyes shining with tears.

Bruce simply sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Why don't we make a deal? You can sit on Daddy's lap for today, but you have to eat at least three bites of pasta. What do you say, baby?" He knew three bites was practically nothing, but for a fussy toddler it could be. But, Bruce just wanted his son to eat something, even if it was just a little bit.

Tim thinks hard for a few seconds, squinting his eyes at his father. Dick had to bite his lip in order to keep himself from laughing at the sight. The boy was just too cute.

"Deal." Tim finally says, sticking his hand out for a handshake like a little businessman. Bruce is quick to shake it, a small smile appearing on his face as he pats his lap. Tim is quick to jump off his own chair and sit down on his father's lap, leaning his back on Bruce's chair.

"Daddy' feeds me." Tim crosses his arms, pouting, and Bruce knew he had no way out of this—not that he minded, of course. "Sure, baby. Daddy will feed you." He smiles, gathering a bit of pasta onto his fork and bringing it to his son's mouth. Tim, surprisingly, eats the bite offered to him.

It seemed like, now that he had tasted the goodness that was Alfred's cooking, Tim had realized that he had, in fact, been hungry. He eats the next bite without trouble, and then the next, and the next, until he had eaten at least half of the plate, and Bruce the rest.

"No more," Tim mumbles when Bruce offers him another bite, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt before Bruce could use a napkin. Bruce hums, looking down at his son. Tim wasn't looking pale or too out of the ordinary, so he definitely wasn't sick.

Bruce checks his temperature with the back of his hand just to be sure that Tim didn't have a fever. "Are you feeling alright, sweetheart?" He asks in a gentle tone, running his hand through his son's hair.

Tim practically melts with the touch, his eyes closing in contentment. "My head hurts." He mumbles, letting out a small yawn. He was due to a nap pretty soon.

"Let's get you to bed, maybe a nap will help." Bruce gets up from the table with Tim on his hip, walking downstairs to his own bedroom instead of Tim's. He sets the boy down on the bed, grabbing a pacifier from nearby and pushing it into Tim's mouth.

"Are you comfortable?" Bruce asks as he tucks his son into bed, closing the blinds so not much light could get it. Tim just hums quietly, eyes already starting to close. 

"Sleep well, baby." Bruce presses a kiss to Tim's forehead, placing a baby monitor on the bedside table so he could keep an eye on him before exiting the room.

Chapter Text

Tim liked to think he was pretty smart. A genius, even. He could code in his sleep, could solve math equations in seconds. He even made smart, precise decisions most of the time. At least, until now, where he stood in front of the stairs on the second floor of the manor, skateboard in hand, and trying to imagine how it'd go if he skated down the stairs—which was exactly what he was planning to do.

Tim took a few big steps back, mentally preparing himself for it. It wouldn't be the hardest trick he had ever done, far from it. Tim had been pretty good at skating ever since he got his first board, being a quick learner, and after he started being Robin and learned how to control every muscle in his body, about stability and balance, coordination and strength, he only got better and bolder, not afraid of trying new tricks because, what was a few more bruises?

So here he was now, despite it being quite some time since he last touched a skateboard, having been too focused on being Red Robin and looking for Bruce. But that was in the past now, and Tim had enough free time on his hands today—surprisingly—and decided to give his old hobby a try once more.

Tim set the skateboard down on the ground—a battered thing covered in peeling and scratched stickers, well loved and worn—after walking far away from the stairs so he could gain more speed. Tim set his right foot on front of the board and used his left to push himself and gain speed. Within a few seconds he was already jumping down the stairs on the board, and between a blink and the other all he felt was pain as he fell to the ground on top of his left arm, the skateboard flying across the room.

He had been laying on the ground for a little while, and heard footsteps just as he tried to sit up. "Tim?!" Dick's voice echoed through the hall as the footsteps got quicker and closer, until hands were touching him and helping him sit up. "Jesus Christ- are you okay? Of course you're not." Dick's voice had a strong tone of concern to it as he checked Tim over for injuries, noticing how he was clutching his left arm.

"Did you hit your head? C'mon, Timmy, talk to me." Dick tried to coach the boy as he helped him get up. Tim all but stared at his older brother, trying to process what had just happened, before he burst into tears. "Dickie!" He wailed, going to wipe away his tears with his left arm but letting out a pained sob at the movement, having forgotten about it.

Dick was quick to pull his little brother into a hug, being mindful of the injured arm. "Shhh, it's okay, it's okay." He tried comforting Tim, gently running a hand through the boy's hair. "You're alright, it's all going to be alright, yeah? We are gonna go to a trip at the med-bay to see your arm, and Dickie's gonna be there the whole time." Dick shushed his brother, standing up and setting Tim on his hip like a baby.

He carried his brother all the way down to the cave and towards the med-bay, setting Tim down on one of the exam table, all while saying quiet praises about how good Tim was doing. "I'll need to grab your arm to see if it's sprained or broken, okay? It's going to hurt a little bit, but you're a brave boy, aren't you?"

Tim only continued to cry, small sobs making his body shiver and his cheeks wet with tears. He was little, having involuntarily regressed when he realized that he had fallen and was in pain. "Bu-Bubba, 'hurts…" Tim whined, sniffling. Every little movement hurt, and while he wanted Dick to comfort him, he also wanted him to stop.

"I know it hurts, baby. I know." Dick cooed, grabbing a wipe from nearby and drying his little brother's cheeks. "Here's how this is gonna go; I'll give you something for the pain, then we'll put some ice and get you a splint, okay?" Dick knew Tim liked to know what would happen, and he continued to gently comfort him while he grabbed the things he would need.

"We can sit here for a little while with the ice to help with the swelling. C'mon, give Bubba some space." Dick sits down on the exam table and pulling Tim on his lap, kissing the boy's hair. "You're gonna be okay, Timmy. Don't worry." Dick smiles while gently putting the ice on Tim's wrist, which causes the boy to flinch with a pained whimper.

"I know, I know it hurts, but it'll help." Tim could only let out a sob at his big brother's words, knowing he was right but his regressed mind only wanted it to stop. "Dickie, no more.." Tim cries, wanting to move but not wanting his wrist to hurt again. "Shh, baby. All done now, see?" Dick pulled the ice pack away, knowing he should have given it more time, but he understood how Tim felt.

"Now let's get you that splint and some meds for the pain. You were so brave, Timmy. Daddy will be proud to hear how brave you were, and maybe we can even convince Alfie to make that one apple pie you love for dessert tonight." Dick gave Tim's cheek a kiss, wanting to smother him in kisses. He grabs some ibuprofen along with a cup of water, handing it to Tim and helping him drink.

"Good boy! You deserve a reward after we get your wrist wrapped up, don't you think?" He smiled while grabbing the splint and wrapping it around Tim's wrist, being careful the whole time, and shushing his brother's pained whimpers. "All done now, sweetheart! You did so good, you deserve a lollipop."

Dick grabbed a cherry flavored lollipop from nearby, unwrapping it before giving it to him. Tim took it with a shaky hand, his cheeks still wet with tears that had thankfully stopped flowing by now, but his body was still shivering. "Th-Thank you, Bubba." Tim mumbled, sticking the candy in his mouth and raising one of his arms to be picked up.

Dick couldn't help the small 'awh' that escaped his mouth as he scooped Tim up and set him on his hip, making his way out of the cave. "Let's go get all comfy on the couch and turn on some cartoons. What do you want to watch, ducky? I'm thinking maybe… Strawberry Shortcake?

Tim hid his face on Dick's shoulder, lollipop still in his mouth, and gave a little nod. "Alright then, let's go get comfy." Dick took them to one of the living rooms, the one which the couch was covered in blankets and pillows. "Hey, Jay." Dick greeted Jason, not even knowing he was at the manor until now, and sat down on the couch with Tim on his lap.

"Hey– What happened with the little guy?" Jason was closing his book in seconds, not getting up from the couch, instead sitting up properly. "I found him laying on the ground by the stairs, I think he tried to skateboard down it and ended up falling. He ended up spraining his wris. Thank God it didn't break." Dick sighed, wanting to lecture Tim but knowing he was too little right now, if his quietness was anything to go by.

"Shi–Shoot," Jason corrected himself, even though there wasn't really a need to. "Bruce's gonna flip out, I can already see it." He chuckled, but it was weak. "I see you got a lollipop, kiddo. Was it your reward for being good? I bet it were." Jason ruffled Tim's hair, which made the Little whine and hide his face on Dick's shoulder, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

"'Was good, and bw-brave." Tim mumbled, taking the lollipop out to speak. "I'm sure you were, you're always a good boy, and you're lucky you didn't break anything." Jason squeezed one of his little brother's cheeks, earning a quiet giggle. It seemed like the pain meds were kicking in, finally. "Dickie, gave me a lollipop too! 'Cause I was good." Tim showed the sweet treat to Jason, the cherry flavored candy shiny with spit, a few dribbles running down his chin.

"That sure looks good, kid." Jason tried to hide his grimace as he grabbed a nearby wipe—thanks to Alfred for leaving a box in every living room, knowing the little was messy—and cleaned Tim's chin gently, chuckling when he tried to squirm away.

"Shhh now, Jay. I gotta' watch." Tim made a shushing noise and motion with his finger before pointing at the TV, which now played Strawberry Shortcake. "You heard the kiddo, Little Wing. He's gotta watch his show." Dick smirked, squeezing the boy on his lap and earning a squeal and a giggle.

"Dickie! You're gonna crush me!" Tim shrieked, giggling loudly as he tried to kick his brother. He might be a vigilante, but when he was regressed it was like he forgot how to fight. Sure, he was still pretty strong, but unless he was in a situation that actually required him to fight, Tim was clumsy.

Dick loosened his hold on him after a few seconds, kissing Tim's cheek with a dramatic 'muak' before letting the boy watch TV in peace while he and Jason talked about a case they were currently working on. Tim was kept entertained for a while, and had eventually migrated to the floor where he was playing withthe big bucked of Lego bricks Bruce had purchased for him a while ago.

"Jay! Jay!" Tim got up almost tripping over the amount of Lego bricks on the floor. "I got a gift fo' you." He smiled, his lollipop having been eaten and the stick thrown away. "Hm, now I'm curious. What is it, Timbo?" Jason couldn't help but smile, a soft rare look on his face. His little brother was just too cute when he was Little, Jason couldn't help it.

"Open your hand!" Jason obbeyed the command, sticking out his open hand. Tim placed a red Lego brick on his palm and closed his fingers. "Wow, thank you, Timmy. Red's my favorite color, y'know?" Jason ruffled Tim's hair, chuckling when the boy nuzzled onto his hand like a cat.

"I got Dickie something too!" Tim announced, jumping over to the Lego bricks and grabbing a blue one, placing it on his other brother's hand. "Thank you, sweetheart! I love it, you're so sweet." Dick kissed the boy's head, pulling him into a hug and practically crushing Tim before letting him go.

Just then, footsteps could be heard and Bruce soon appeared on the doorway, back home from WE. "Daddy! You're home!" Tim ran over to his father, practically jumping on Bruce's arms, but remembering about his wrist and not doing so. "Hey, baby. What happened to your wrist?" Of course that would be the first thing the man would ask, being the worried dad that he was, especially with the type of children he had.

"I was trying to skateboard down the stairs and I fell, but then Dickie found me! He said I spw-sprained my wrist. It hurt really bad, but then he gave me drugs and a lollipop!" Tim recited with a smile on his face, not even sorry for doing something dangerous like that.

Bruce could only sigh and pick his son up, resting a hand under his bottom as he set Tim against his hip. He would always be thankful of being able to pick up his children with such ease, especially someone like Tim who was roughly 125lbs; that was nothing for Batman.

"You're going to give me grey hairs one day, a full head of it. All of you." Bruce pointed towards his other sons, but was referring to all of his children. "Like you don't already have some, old man." Jason teased, not even looking up from the book he had picked up again.

"You're the only one who doesn't make fun of me. Isn't that right, sweetheart? It's why you're my favorite." Bruce pressed a kiss to Tim's forehead, the boy smiling brightly at him. From the couch, a gasp could be heard from Dick. "I can't believe you've just said that. I thought I was your favorite!" Dick placed a hand on his chest dramatically. "The betrayal!" He cried and leaned against Jason, but that only made the other push him away.

"You can be clingy to Tim, don't even try me, Dickhead." Jason grumbled, shifting on the couch to get comfortable once more and going back to his book. "Not you too, Little Wing! You guys are really hurting my feelings today, wow." Dick sniffled, wiping away fake tears from his eyes.

Tim looked worried from his place on Bruce's hip, brows furrowing. "Bubba, don' cry!" He made grabby hands towards Dick until his father set him down. Tim jumped on Dick's lap, giving the man the best hug he could with his injured wrist. "Awh, it's okay, Timmy. Dickie's not crying, he's just being dramatic." Dick cooed, wrapping his arms tightly around the Little's body.

"How's your wrist doing, Tim? Are you in any pain?" Bruce couldn't stop himself from asking, not wanting Tim to be in any pain. "'S okay, I think." The boy mumbled, resting his head on Dick's chest and sneaking his thumb into his mouth. "None of that now, Kiddo. Your fingers are yucky, that's why you have a pacifier." Dick gently took the finger from his mouth, grabbing a pacifier from the coffee table and pushing it in the boy's mouth.

"There, all cozy now. How about we watch another episode of Strawberry Shortcake after Daddy changes out of his clothes? The four of us and some snacks." Dick stroked Tim's hair, smiling at the small nod he got, and a few minutes later Bruce came back with clean clothes, and Alfred was setting down a few snacks on the coffee table for them to share; a plate of cookies, two mugs of tea and one of coffee along with a baby bottle with warm milk, and few other baked goods.

The mug of coffee was passed to Bruce, and one of the tea mugs to Jason. Dick held his own tea mug while Tim laid his head down on his lap with his legs on Jason's, letting out a happy noise as the baby bottle was presented to him. "Th'nk you, Dickie.." Tim mumbled, happily drinking as Dick pressed play on the new episode. He was out like a light in minutes, the half empty bottle falling down from his hand, and with Dick gently running a hand through his hair.

Bruce even had a fond look on his face at the scene. His boys were curled up on the couch, and even Jason was there, almost dozing off with a book in hand—even Dick couldn't escape from the exhaustion running through his body. He got up from his spot on the couch and grabbed two blankets, draping one on Jason's lap, and using the other to cover Tim's body. Bruce turned the volume of the TV down a bit, and left the room, not wanting to wake them up.

Even if he didn't have the best relationship with Jason yet, or if he sometimes still fought with Dick, or felt like he had failed Tim, they were still his children. Bruce might not have been the best father to them before—he had been trying for the last few years to make up for everything—they had always been his sons.