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There was a time when Colin had thought Batman was the scariest thing ever. There was something so utterly terrifying about that dark, imposing figure,and it was all the more petrifying when he was looming over you, after having caught you in an intimate embrace (and maybe a bit more) with his son.
Colin still thought that, because how could you not? But he now realised that there was something even more terrifying than an angry Batman, as shocking and unbelievable as that may seem.
And what was this strange being?
A ten year old Bruce Wayne.
Colin didn't know the exact details, but he'd gotten the gist of the situation from Damian's explanation. Batman had been zapped by some strange device, and he'd been reduced to his ten year old self, both physically and mentally. It wasn't permanent, and the man should be returned to his usual self before the day was done.
He'd learnt about his about an hour ago, and it should have been fine. He'd dealt with his fair share of kids at the orphanage, and he supposed mini-Bruce Wayne was kind of adorable (…which had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he looked a lot like Damian had when Colin had first met him).
But…mini-Bruce Wayne was scary.
He was really, truly, honest-to-God, terrifying.
He just kept looking at him, with this dangerous glint in his eyes, and it made him realise that no, the famous Bat-glare hadn't been developed slowly and steadily over time; it had already existed long before Batman had come into existence. In fact, it looked even more disconcerting on ten-year old Bruce Wayne's young face.
"Dami, your dad is glaring at me," Colin murmured, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
"It's alright," Damian replied, somewhat distracted. "He does that a lot."
"It's not alright," Colin hissed back. "I'm used to being glared at — you used to do it a lot, remember? But he looks like he wants to kill me."
"Don't be ridiculous. Batman doesn't kill."
"He's not Batman yet!"
"I can hear you," Bruce interrupted, his eyes narrowed.
Damian sighed, and stood up. "I need to call Grayson," he told him. "Pennyworth told me not to leave him alone after that stunt in the cave, so do you mind watching him until I get back?"
"It's my cave!" Bruce pointed out.
"Quiet, Father."
Damian left the room, and Colin pretended he wasn't inwardly cringing. Bruce turned his gaze to him, and stared. Colin shifted uncomfortably, and tugged at his collar.
"Hi," he said, when the silence had become almost suffocating, "Mr. Wayne — uh, I mean, Bruce. Uh — how are you?"
Bruce cocked his head to the side. "So…you're Damian's boyfriend?"
"…Yes."
Bruce's eyes narrowed. "Do I know about this? Older-me, I mean."
"Yes…"
"And do I like you?"
"No? …I mean yes? …Maybe?"
The kid's scowl deepened, and Colin wondered if Damian would hold it against him if he left the room. And perhaps the manor — he could come back after Mr. Wayne had been returned to his other terrifying form.
"Damian's my son," Bruce told him.
"…You're ten."
Bruce scowled again, and Colin decides to shut up (which is ridiculous, because mini-Bruce was ten, and he was sixteen; he should not be scared of a ten year old).
"I'm sure older-me as threatened to destroy you if you hurt him, right?" Bruce inquired, and Colin simply nodded awkwardly. Perhaps those hadn't been his exact words but…that was actually fairly close to what had happened.
(Then again, walking in on your son, and the guy you'd thought was his shy, awkward, heterosexual best friend, probably wasn't the best way to find out about his love life).
"I don't have any family left, other than Alfred," Bruce said, sounding much older than his ten years. It reminded him of how Damian had been, all those years ago, and Colin felt a slight twinge in his chest. "Damian's going to be my family one day…and I don't like people messing with my family."
"I would never," Colin told him, his voice firm. Yes, mini-Bruce was terrifying, but this was one thing he was certain of. "I love Damian."
"Good." There was a slight pause, and then: "…could you get me some of Alfred's cookies?"
Bruce pointed to wear the cookies had been placed, in the highest shelf in the pantry.
"Mr. Pennyworth said you're not supposed to have anymore," Colin protested.
Bruce's eyes narrowed.
"…Yes, Mr. Wayne."