Archive of Our Own ^beta

The Wayne household has always been a bastion of chaos, before and after the sudden adoptions of multiple children. Sometimes, though, one does not know the extent of chaos possible when several too-smart-for-their-own-good kids are highly trained to sneak around and plot extensive strategies. Bruce loves figuring out how best to care for his kids, it's his favorite puzzle. But they come with an extremely steep learning curve. He’s relatively new to this whole parent thing, and there truly is so much to learn.

At least, that is what Bruce blames when his three boys bring home a young girl. They call her Cassandra, although Bruce cannot confirm that this is her name. She cradles a small boy in her arms, no more than two years of age. The boy is sleeping, and even without seeing his eyes, Bruce knows the boy is his. He’d be his anyway, since Bruce was not going to let either child muddle through the dangers of Gotham’s foster system alone when he could just adopt them.

Bruce has the same feeling when he first meets all of his children. By this point, it is old hat. Going from a family of five to one of seven is no small feat. But Alfred, the saint, has rooms prepared and meals ready. Everything else is just taking each child’s needs one day at a time.

One thing Bruce is not prepared for, no matter how hard he tries, is his children wanting to spend time with him. Many of his children are touch-starved. Usually, they depend on each other to meet those needs; trusting each other more than any adult. But, often, especially on or after patrol, his children desire to hide in the shadows of his cape or cling to him tighter than his body armor.

Bruce doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind when his children nod off at galas and charity fundraisers, giving him an easy excuse to leave early. The Justice League does give him strange looks whenever he brings one of his babies to their meetings, but a harsh glare nips any issues in the bud. Particularly when Dick bears his teeth and threatens to bite anyone who wakes up his younger siblings.

Jason, taking from Dick’s lead, practices his patented bat-glare in the mirror until his siblings assure him it is sufficient to intimidate some of the world’s most powerful heroes. He always bring a chapter book to read while standing guard over his younger siblings. Cassandra, or Cass, insists that she doesn’t need Jason or anyone’s protection. And she doesn’t, truly. But her siblings stand guard anyway.

Even Damian, their youngest, tries to protect his siblings. He speaks few words yet, not unusual for his age. But he growls and mimics the calls of many animals, often taking many heroes by surprise if anyone dares to approach his big brothers and sister.

Right now, though, Bruce is playing hide and seek with his children in the cave. The early hours of this cool Saturday morning have been filled with giggles and the sound of small footsteps bouncing off the walls as the children stampede down the hallways. Wayne Manor is more full than it has ever been, and Bruce imagines that his parents would be quite proud.

“Dickiebird, where are you?” Bruce calls out, sing-song like. He whips his head towards the soft sound he hears in response. It seems like a small child making bird calls under their breath. Bruce smiles, stalking toward a crevice in one of the tall stone walls, hidden behind the giant penny. “Timmy? Jaylad? Cassandra?” He lilts.

“I think I hear someone behind here.” Bruce says, popping out from behind the penny. But no child is visible. Huh, he thinks. He approaches the wall, feeling it for gaps to peer into. Another small whistle from across the room catches his attention. Frowning thoughtfully, Bruce heads across the cave to investigate.

Giggles pour softly from above the dinosaur, pulling Bruce in yet another direction. His children have unionized, Bruce realizes as he hears various noises from multiple directions. Grinning, Bruce decides to return to his original clue hidden behind the penny. Tim has whistled small bird calls, seemingly without realizing, every time he saw Dick or Bruce at galas before he joined their family. Bruce would guess that his son is once again calling out under his breath, unable to break the habit yet.

“Tim?” Bruce calls softly. “Are you hiding behind the penny?”
“No!” Tim’s small defiant voice calls from across the cave.
“I’m over here.” His voice echoes out, seemingly coming from the mouth of the T-Rex.

Carefully, Bruce clambers up the dinosaur, checking it’s mouth. A miniscule transmitting device is placed between it’s teeth.

“Tim, where are you?” Bruce says into the device, stomach pooling with dread.
“Silly, B! That’s not the game. You gotta find us!” Tim responds, his voice sounding out from all directions.

Bruce slips the device into the pocket of his fleece pajama pants, and runs over to the batcomputer. He immediately brings up the trackers he has placed on each of his children.
It loads slowly, the blue glow of the screen reflects Bruce’s horrified expression back to him.

His children are clustered deep in the caverns, miles and miles into the cave system.
Numbly, Bruce brings out the transmitter again.

“Tim, sweetheart, I need you all to stay exactly where you are.” Bruce says calmly, hiding the pure panic flooding his veins. “I’m coming to get you all.”

“Sorry, B.” Dick’s voice comes through this time. Damian’s amused gurgles are audible in the background. “We’re busy.”

“Dick. Stay put. All of you stay where you are.” Bruce begs, trying not to scare them too much but impress upon them the importance of what he is trying to say. “Please.”

“Uh oh, Bruce said please.” Jason drawls, clearly unbothered by Bruce’s sky-high blood pressure. “Things must be serious.”

“Game is more fun this way.” Cass adds. “Plus new friends.”
“New friends?” Bruce questions as he desperately flags down Alfred and points at the screen. Alfred pales. He immediately phones Clark and Diana, which Bruce appreciates.

“What do you mean new friends?” Bruce asks, voice wavering. He pulls at his hair just to ground himself. “Not friends.” Tim corrects. “New siblings.” Bruce almost breathes a sigh of relief. Children are far less likely to be rogues or villains, even in Gotham. There are a few, but not many.

“Please, all of you. Stay where you are.” Bruce requests urgently. “We’re coming to get you.”
“No.” A young voice answers. “Screw you whoever you are.”
“I beg your pardon?” Bruce responds disbelievingly. A cackling laugh is the only answer he gets.

The entire Justice League appears on the zeta platform in the cave, almost going unnoticed by Bruce. He has no mask or cowl to don. He doesn’t have time.

“We need to save my children.” Bruce explains quickly, speaking almost as fast as Barry. “We were playing hide and seek and they just…” Bruce takes an unsteady breath. “They went into the cavern system under Gotham. It connects to the sewers, to old tunnels, to levels of the city long since buried. An unknown number of assailants could be down there, just waiting.”

Superman floats forward and claps a strong hand on Bruce’s shoulder, squeezing gently.
“We’ll find them. Don’t panic, Mr. Wayne.” He says, Superman voice in full effect.
Bruce shakes his head. “You don’t understand. My children, they… they don’t see danger, they see a challenge.” He tries to explain.

“We’ll split up in teams.” Oliver offers, voice calm. “Someone should stay here to keep an eye on their location.” Alfred steps forward, raising a hand to indicate he will stay behind.
“Best of luck to you all. And do let me know of any injuries so that I can properly prepare the medical bay.” He requests. The others nod in agreement.

“I should - I should get dressed.” Bruce mutters, distracted and worriedly glancing back at the screen to check the trackers. “Yes, Master Bruce. Retrieve my grandchildren safely.” Alfred says sternly, hints of threats unsaid lingering in the air. “All of you will do so.”

A chorus of agreements echoes from the supers. They then discuss amongst themselves how best to divide and conquer the winding caverns beneath the city. Bruce changes quickly, rejoining the group. They set off, sticking in pairs of two.

Clark is Bruce’s partner for the search. His x-ray vision is of limited use underground, too many lead lined pipes and culverts threading through the bedrock. Instead, they search with flashlights, and Clark’s super-senses.

Soon, they come across the broken body of Killer Croc, a scrap of plum-colored fabric clutched in his clawed hand. Bruce breaks open some smelling salts from his belt and holds them beneath the creature’s nose. When he stirs, Bruce disposes of the salts and checks the man’s pulse. Thready, but solid. He breathes under his own power.

“Where are the children?” Bruce growls sharply. Croc flinches and groans in pain.
“You mean those fucking psychopaths?” Croc responds gruffly. Bruce grabs Croc by his dislocated shoulder firmly. Croc gives a pained shout.
“Where are they?” Bruce repeats harshly. “Did you hurt them?”

“Hurt them?” Croc retorts. “I was lucky to escape with my life!” Clark steps forward and carefully peels Bruce’s fingers off from Croc’s scaly limb.
“Tell us what happened. I have given your location to medics, they’ll be here soon.” Clark explains softly, shooting Bruce a glare.

“I was just minding my business in my sewers, as one does.” Croc begins, avoiding looking at Batman. “And all of a sudden, these kids come from no where, demanding that I give’em my money. Threatening to kill me if I don’t.” Croc gulps, hesitating.
“Just tell us what happened, we won’t judge you.” Clark says gently, with an encouraging smile. Bruce stifles a scoff and crosses his arms.

“Look man, getting shook down by kindergartners ain’t my proudest moment, alright?” Croc admits begrudgingly. “But they were crazy! The little one controls the shadows. He took the lights!”

Croc’s voice is reedy, filled with fear. Bruce frowns. A little one? Controlling the shadows? That doesn’t sound like any of his kids.

“What do you mean the little one?” Bruce grits out. “Robin?”
Croc huffs and shakes his head gingerly. “Nah man, Robin was helping them but there was a whole gang of ‘em.”

“A whole gang?” Clark probes, leaning forward. “How many children were present? Could you describe them?”

“Like nearly a dozen.” Croc says, voice cracking. “The little one was the scariest. Totally a meta. There was a blonde girl in all purple. A taller one with blue hair. The shorter red-head had a slingshot. The taller one had some kind of staff that shocks ya.”

The man looks truly terrified recounting his assailants and a small part of Bruce feels for him. But a much larger, much louder, part of Bruce just wants to know where his children are and bring them home. “You said Robin was there?” He prompts. Croc nods.

“Yeah Robin had three other boys with him. And a girl. They linked up with the other kids to knock me out. That’s all I know, I swear!”

Bruce nods numbly. His children beat up Killer Croc, presumably to aid these new friends. But how did they meet these kids? Are they safe now? Where are his babies?”

“We need to move on. They’ve got a head start.” Bruce grunts, handing Croc a small beacon. “This will help the medics find you. Martha and Thomas Wayne Memorial will take care of you, free of charge.”

Croc cradles the beacon to his chest, dropping the scrap of fabric. Bruce picks it up and pockets it in his belt. “Be well.” Bruce mutters softly as he pushes Clark further down the tunnels.

Wind rattles through the crevices ahead of them. The damp walls echo their steps. No where are the giggles and stampede that Bruce has gotten so used to hearing.

“They’ll be okay, Batman.” Clark reassures him as they continue into the depths. Bruce ignores the sentiment and gestures for Clark to scan the intersection of pathways before them. Clark pauses, his eyes glazing over briefly.

“Someone is down the hall to the left. Adult heartbeats.” Clark says, pointing. “Perhaps they’ve seen something?”

Bruce pushes past Clark, heading straight for their potential witnesses. Two men in reflector vests, with logos for the Gotham Civil Works Projects, huddle against the cave wall.
“Batman!” One of them gasps as the two approach. “I knew you’re real!”

“Talk. Have you seen Robin?” Batman demands, getting close enough to see the whites of their eyes, even in the dark. Both men shake their heads vehemently.
“N–no sir.” The one mutters, shaking like a leaf. “We saw a group of kids but no Robin. One of them had a toddler strapped to him in a backpack. Seems like he might have some sort of injury?”

Bruce pales. He freezes, unable to breath. Damian.

Clark pulls Bruce back, out of the space of the men. “Which way did they go?” He asks patiently.
Both men point further into the caverns.

“Thank you!” Clark says cheerily, leading Bruce out by the shoulders. “Good luck with your report.”

Both men nod, confused. Clark steers Bruce around a corner and out of sight.
“Breathe.” He says, bringing Bruce’s gloved hand to his chest. “Just breathe.”
Bruce nods along. He can breathe. He breathes all the time. This is something he should be able to do.

Bruce forces his chest to expand and contract. His mind clears slowly. Clark waits until his blood pressure normalizes before continuing.

“We don’t know if Damian is hurt.” Clark reasons gently. “Witness accounts can be unreliable. Perhaps they’re carrying him because he got tired of walking.”

Bruce hums, thinking. Damian does enjoy being carried, often demanding whoever he is with hoist him as high as possible so that he may lord over the room. Bruce blames the instinct on the time they let the kids watch the Lion King. Dick held Damian up like little Simba and, well, everyone else wanted a turn to hold the baby. To the horror of Bruce and Alfred, it became a game to see who could lift Damian the highest. The game was promptly banned when they found Tim on the roof one clear night, holding Damian above his little head to show him the stars in the sky.

“We need to find them, Clark.” Bruce whispers. “We need to find them now.”

Clark nods solemnly. He closes his eyes and focuses, stretching his arms out in the air. Bruce watches curiously as Clark’s ears twitch, reacting to sounds Bruce cannot hear.

“This way.” Clark says, dragging Bruce by his forearm further into the caves. Bruce follows as quickly as he can. Clark plows ahead, eyes still closed, leading Bruce through switchbacks, tight passages, and a maze of tunnels.

Finally, they reach a gaping maw of a cavern. Ribbons of shale, limestone, sandstone, and basalt weave towering walls of bedrock. The ceiling, presumably, rises above them, obscured by darkness. A group of children are circled in the middle of the floor, playing some sort of game. Not all the children Croc described are here, but a few are. The rest are Bruce’s babies. His shoulders sag in relief.

“Are you all alright?” Bruce says quietly, letting the acoustics carry his voice across the space. His voice sounds strange, foreign to his own ears, unused to hearing the panic and concern lacing it. The children look over to Bruce and Clark and freeze.

“Uncle Clark!” Dick says, standing quickly and running over. Clark catches the child as he launches himself into the air for the last five feet over to them.

“Is anyone injured?” Bruce asks gently, kneeling. He doesn’t want to scare any of the children.

Tim stands, holding Damian. He rolls his eyes at Bruce, muttering something under his breath. Bruce swears that he hears the word “over-dramatic” in there.

“We’re fine, B.” Tim says, a little sullen. “I guess we gotta go now.”

“I didn’t say that.” Bruce points out. “I’d like to meet your friends, if I can.” Once he has their names, he can investigate their parents. It’ll make the adoption papers that much easier to fill out.

Jason stands, shooting Bruce a grateful look. Clearly, this little adventure wasn’t his idea.
“This is Duke, Steph, and Barbara.” Jason introduces. “That guy in the fur suit is Batman. We call him B or dad, depending.” Tim pipes up to add to Jason’s explanation.
“He’s a worrywart who is convinced that we’ll get injured whenever we do anything fun.”

A small dark-skinned boy, shadows wafting off of his very person, looks to Bruce with glowing eyes before cracking a smile. “Bruce Wayne.” Duke says quietly. Steph, the blonde, wrinkles her nose in disgust, uttering a soft ‘ew’, and snuggles closer to Cass. Barbara tilts her head curiously and exchanges a glance with Dick.

Bruce’s eldest is currently perched on Clark’s shoulders, like a gargoyle from Gotham’s towering buildings which line the older part of the Diamond district. He nods at Barbara. She stands, brushing dust from her hands onto her pants.

“Hi, Bruce. You didn’t call my dad, did you?” She asks sheepishly. Bruce hums.
“Depends on who that is.” He says softly, narrowing his gaze at her. It takes approximately thirty seconds for him to recognize her. Bruce blames the delay on the darkness of the cave, or maybe the emotional distress of his children’s disappearing act.

“Comissioner Gordon’s daughter?” Bruce asks. Barbara grins and shuffles her feet, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “Yeah.” She agrees reluctantly. “Is he coming to get me?”

Bruce shakes his head. These kids are all coming home with him to be thoroughly checked for injury by Alfred. Bruce will settle for nothing less.

“I think we can call him after I take you all back to the batcave and make sure you’re uninjured.” Bruce explains. Steph’s face twists and she growls.
“No way!” She protests. “You ain’t getting us to any secondary location!”

Before Bruce can respond, Tim pipes up in his defense.
“He’s Batman, Stephanie. He doesn’t hurt kids.” Tim says matter-of-factly. “You just don’t know ‘cuz your dad is a lame riddler knock off.” Steph huffs and sends Tim a glare.
“I know who Batman is. I just ain’t trusting an adult just ‘cuz.” She says, exasperatedly. Jason nods in agreement, while betrayal blooms in Bruce’s chest.
“This is what I mean, baby bird, you’re lacking survival skills.” Jason tells Tim. Tim blows a raspberry at Jason and Damian repeats the action. Duke, watching the argument with great interest, glows brightly. Everyone stops to turn to him.

“We should go with him. It’ll be okay. All the paths are good.” Duke says cryptically. “He won’t hurt or sell us. ‘Sides, he’s gonna call our parents once we get to the surface.”

Bruce had, in fact, been planning to do exactly that. He’s sure their parents are just as worried as he is. Maybe even more, given that Bruce knows his kids can at minimum fight enough to defend themselves.

“But you said we’re siblings.” Cass says quietly, her voice sad. Duke sighs, opening his arms to wrap her in a hug. “We will be. Later, though.” Duke says softly, still echoing across the space.
Cass sighs heavily, like waiting for her siblings to become her siblings is the greatest burden she has had to bear. “Fine.” She agrees. “I’ll wait. But friends for now?”
Duke nods, giving her a tight squeeze. “Friends for now.” He confirms.

Jason leads the kids over to Bruce and Clark, sidling up under Bruce’s cape for comfort. Damian cries indignantly, and Tim hands him over to Bruce. Carefully, Bruce cradles his youngest to his chest. Damian squirms until he can settle his head onto Bruce’s shoulder, watching Bruce’s back.

“Is everyone ready to go?” Bruce asks gently, rising from the floor to stand. The children nod and Dick flips off Clark’s shoulders onto the floor. Bruce takes a deep breath to bring his heartrate back down into human range. He’ll never get used to Dick’s acrobatics. Every time his son flings himself through the air, Bruce swears that he ages a few years.

“What’s the quickest way out?” Bruce asks, meaning to talk to Clark. But Tim elbows his way to the front of their group and grabs Dick’s gloved hand.

“C’mon Robin.” Tim teases. “Let’s show Batman how to get home!”

Dick and Tim break into matching gremlin grins. Damian squeals next to Bruce’s ear. He does not need to turn his head to know that the toddler has a matching expression as well.

“Alright then, let’s go home.” Bruce says, ushering everyone forward. The only way back out is through. Relief floods through his system, soon his babies will be home and safe. All the trespassers (his friends) will leave Gotham. Everything will be back to normal. Or as normal as life can be, really.

The route back to the cave is a circuitous one. It requires both Bruce and Clark to squeeze through tight confined spaces and crawl at various paces. At one point, Clark gets stuck when crawling on his stomach through a passage and Bruce has to yank the man free. The children all find this to be hilarious.

Eventually, Tim and Dick do lead them all back to the surface, as promised. After confirming that none of the children are injured, and sending the rest of the JL home, Bruce immediately has Alfred contact the children’s parents. He also calls the GCPD to his doorstep for the sake of appearances. Gordon, disheveled and panicked, is the first to arrive on scene. He sweeps his daughter into a tight hug and thanks Bruce profusely. Somehow, Bruce overhears another medic confirming that Killer Croc was taken to Wayne Memorial Hospital, and a small tendril of guilt loosens in his chest.

Their cover story is that the children all entered the caverns at various points. The Wayne kids through a passage in the thicket that separates their property from the Drake’s, Barbara from the well documented entrance near her school, Duke from an entrance near the narrows, and Stephanie through one near Crime Alley. Most of the children agree to the cover story without complaint, especially after Cassandra tacks on a “pretty please with a cherry on top!” Her puppy dog eyes are truly unrivaled.

“Stroke of luck that your boys were able to help everyone find their way out!” Gordon remarks. Bruce, having changed back into his pajamas, looks about as disheveled as the older man does, his hair wild from the cowl. He grunts, unwilling to confirm or deny details that could poke holes in their story.

“But how would you know who figured it out!” Tim protests, glaring at the Commissioner. Jason tries to pull Tim back but he shakes off his brother’s grasp. “You’re sexist.” Tim declares, arms crossed and jaw set, looking like a photocopy of Batman berating cops on the rooftops. The officers around them snicker. It doesn’t help that Tim is currently swimming in an emergency blanket to warm him up. All the kids have been checked over by the medics on scene a second time, at Bruce’s insistence, to ensure their well-being.

Gordon stares at the small boy in front of him for a moment before nodding slowly.
“Right, well, uhm, who did lead everyone out then?” Gordon asks gruffly.
“We figured it out together. Obviously.” Tim says slowly, like if he talks too fast the adults might not be able to keep up. “Barbara is the one who convinced us to stay in place until we could contact a trusted adult. She’s smart, unlike you.” Again, a wave of suppressed laughter flows through the emergency personnel on scene.

Barbara fails to stifle her laugh and ruffles Tim’s hair. Tim swats her good naturedly and they begin a game of slap fight. The other children join in merrily. Bruce just stands there, watching, and shrugs helplessly at a gobsmacked Gordon.

“Kids.” Bruce says, smiling. “What can you do?”