Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was going to happen eventually. Bruce had known that. But after nearly 20 years, could you really blame him for getting a little lax? He knew it would be the aging that got him. Eventually he would be old enough that people would start realizing that no amount of skincare and facial products would keep a man from aging at all. Which was what was happening. He hadn’t aged a day past 25. He had been bit at 21, just a few months after getting thrown out of Princeton, but it had taken four years for the immortality to take place. He wasn’t that upset about it, it had picked a good year to stop aging him. He was in peak physical condition at twenty-five, good  physical appearance, fairly handsome, and on top of that, he didn’t gain scars anymore. 

But now, at 40, people had finally found out. 

And no, it wasn’t because someone went “hey, forty year old Bruce still looks twenty-five”. No. It was because of a dumb twitter meme.

He had been photographed at dinner with a date, drinking wine as he sat under a sun umbrella, squinting heavily due to his lack of sunglasses and the bright sun that for once decided to make an appearance in Gotham. - Do you know how light sensitive blue eyes are? No? Because I do. Blue eyes fucking suck, they’re so annoying, you can’t go outside on a sunny day without sunglasses because you’ll go blind, god forbid you go outside during the winter on a sunny day . - Twitter had jumped on it, making his angry squint at his wine glass into a meme, then a twitter tag called “#IsBruceWayneaVampire” because the original meme was “Is Bruce Wayne a snobby wine drinker or is he just very critical of his blood types?”. 

Admittedly this was not the first time someone had joked about the Wayne family being vampires. Bruce had always taken great care to use tanning lotion to mask his pale as the dead skin, but his children had not been as careful. Jason, while tan before turning, had only gotten paler every year since, and Tim, who wasn’t even a vampire, was so pasty white that everyone just joked he was. But in the past, it had been merely jokes and comments about their appearances and lifestyles that the whole internet laughed about for a few days and then moved on from. But this. . . this had been going on for nearly a week now, and today things had gotten so much worse.

When he saw the first Gotham Gazette article about it, he had been minorly concerned. He had known about the twitter thing, Dick had called his attention to it, laughing his ass off from all the way in Central City. Bruce had been minorly annoyed but not upset, and even played into it, retweeting the meme Tim had made and making his own little joke, but that had been that and he expected it to fade. Only it didn’t. It got big enough that the Gazette wrote an article on it, and the morning news cast had a segment about it. Two weeks in, SNL had already mentioned it in a bit, and several late night talk hosts had tried to get statements from him about it.

By the third week, it was still a big thing, and Bruce was starting to worry. Not obviously, not enough that any of the kids had started realizing it was an actual issue and they should stop encouraging it. 

By the fourth week, Bruce was watching his world shatter around him.

What had happened was some anonymous source had found and leaked shipment orders of A+, B-, AB, and other assorted types of blood bags to Wayne Manor. First of all, the discovery of this information was undoubtedly illegal, and Bruce had immediately contacted his lawyers who had gone hard after the Gotham Gazette to find out their source, but with no luck so far. It was a mess. How would he get himself out of this? He couldn’t. He had to expose one of two secrets. And since they were easily connectable if he chose the wrong one, he had to be careful.

He could confess to being a vampire, which would cause such a public uproar. He was going on twenty years, and while it wasn’t a law that you inform the government of vampirism, he had technically committed a very illegal act when he had turned Jason, since the boy hadn’t been fully coherent at the time, and hadn’t exactly consented to the bite. Not that many, if any, people knew about that little tid-bit of information, but if anyone found out, Bruce would be in massive trouble. On top of that, Vampire’s were feared enough that people would panic. They would be outraged Bruce hadn’t made that public knowledge long ago, they would fear him like he was some feral animal with rabies or something. They wouldn’t trust that he was a mature adult who could control his bloodlust. 

Sure enough, he barely made it a week before people had fully decided he was a vampire, and were demanding he admit the truth. He hadn’t left his house in a week at this point, and friends were starting to notice, Clark had called him nearly three times a day, and Diana had even shown up at his house. The boys couldn’t go to school, because on the Monday when they had tried, Damian had gotten attacked (another situation their lawyers were fighting over), and the poor boy had barely managed to stop himself from going into a rage. Damian’s rages were messy and bloody and just a pain in the ass to fix. Not that he wouldn’t, he would dig his son out of any and every hole he could ever make for himself, but it was still better to avoid them. 

The problem was the delicate handling of his other secret. His second option, and the one that was out of the question. He had, for nearly as long as he had been a vampire, had been operating as a masked vigilante known as the Batman. - I’m sure you know who Batman is, after all, everyone in the world does, the caped crusader who rules his city through fear and justice. The man who levels parts of Gotham nearly weekly during his fight with the Metahumans that seek to cause chaos. Who hasn’t at least heard of Batman? - The problem with this, was two things. A search of medical records would reveal that none of his family was A+, B-, or AB blood type, so he couldn’t pass that off as his excuse, that the blood was medical related. And Batman was a known vampire. So it was absolutely pointless to reveal his true secret in the attempt to protect himself. Bruce Wayne and Batman could both be vampires, with very little suspicion.

“What are you thinking, Master Bruce?”

Bruce was pulled out of his musings, looking up from the dark wood dining table up to Alfred, who was sat next to him, sipping his tea as Bruce poked at his meager breakfast.

“I was thinking how it is insane that a simple picture can completely ruin someone’s life.”

Alfred hummed sympathetically, glancing away, across the house and frowning slightly, then looking back to Bruce, waiting a moment before speaking.

“Have you made your decision then?”

“I need to talk to the kids, but I don’t see how I have any other option at this point. The longer I let it go, the worse it will get.”

“Call them down here then.”

Bruce grabbed his phone and sent each kid a text. Twenty minutes later, they were all gathered at the table, looking solemn. They had all been fairly quiet these past few days, Damian’s cheek was still bruised and it sent a hot bolt of rage through Bruce every time he saw it.

“I-” Bruce took a shaky breath. “I think we’re all aware of what’s going on.”

Each kid nodded slightly, Bruce glanced at Dick, his eldest, and the Incubus gave a soft smile, reaching up to rub on his ear slightly, a bad habit of his. His unmasked appearance, the one he only allowed around people he was comfortable with, was wildly different to his mask, his human appearance. There was no better way to describe then well. . . demon. His legs were bent a bit like a satyr’s, but he had more paw-like feet, like a dog’s hind legs, more than anything else. From about waist down, and elbow down, his skin was dark, and additionally his legs were covered in fur. His hands looked like normal human hands, with the exception of the non-retractable claws, and let's not forget the tail. His dark hair no longer hid his horns like it did when he was a kid, as they had now curled around his ears in a fairly large loop, and his pointed, mildly furry ears sometimes stuck out from the loops, other times were stuck under the horns. Then there was the matter of the blue markings. Dick was covered in these blue markings, similar to runes of a witch, but his were as permanent as the scars that covered his torso, and were as bright blue as his eyes.

“Are you going to tell them, B?” Jason asked, and Bruce looked to him next. 

Jason looked as human as Bruce did, deathly pale, with dark circles, and scabbed lips from constantly biting them. His black hair had been cut short recently after a fit of boredom, and his teal eyes were narrowed at Bruce. Had he been allowed to age past twenty, Bruce had no doubt he would have become incredibly handsome and rugged with age.

“I don’t have any choice, I’m sorry, Jay-lad,” Bruce told him, with a tense smile.

Jason sighed and looked back down at his phone.

“When?” Dick asked, now chewing on one of his claws.

Bruce gave him a scolding look and he dropped the hand to his lap.

“Today, probably. If I let this go any longer, it will only get worse. I will also be talking to your principles about pulling you from classes for the rest of the semester.”

“Bruce!” Tim protested loudly, the first time he had spoken all day. “You can’t! My- My grades!”

Bruce sighed again. “I know, Tim. But I will not put you two in danger like that again. You will finish the semester homeschooling with Cassandra.”

Tim bit his lip and looked down. The kid looked so remarkably like Bruce, they nearly had the same facial structure, so much so that people had asked in the past if Tim was Bruce’s biological kid. He was almost constantly covered in these deep red runes, traces of his magic. Sometimes they floated around his head, Bruce could always tell how late he had stayed up practicing by how strong the remaining runes were.

“Father, that’s absurd, we can handle-”

Damian cut off with the harsh look he was sent. He pushed out his bottom lip in a pout and looked away, jaw clenching. Bruce loved the thirteen year old, but his people skills needed serious work. The amount of times Bruce had been called into school because of him... Damian, the youngest of his kids, and his only biological son, was something of a miracle. Vampires couldn’t really have children, due to them not really being alive, but his mother, Talia, was quite the magician and had figured it out. Bruce didn’t have the best relationship with Talia these days, but they weren’t hostile. She still came to visit and teach Damian, but had acknowledged that having the vampireling live with his vampire father would be better than her, a necromancer, trying to raise him. He, understandably, looked the most like Bruce, and Alfred had remarked many times how the boy looked like his father’s twin, when Bruce had been thirteen. Damian lacked the ashen complexion of most vampires, having gained his mother’s genes, which gave him naturally dark skin, helping hide the truth. He was the only one of the boys that didn’t truly have blue eyes, once again taking after his mother and her green eyes.

“It’s not up for debate, Damian. You of all people should know why it’s dangerous.”

“So you would prefer to keep us shut up from the world? Let them win? That is what they want, Father. They want us to fear them like they fear us. Oppression-”

“I understand that, Damian. But we are not- We will not provoke fights for simply existing. Things will settle down in time, hopefully over spring break, and you can return to school after then. But for now it’s a matter of your personal safety, and this is all we will say on it.”

The kids grit their teeth and stared at the table, no one really sure how to respond.

Bruce sighed again, reaching up to rub his face, then glanced at Alfred, who nodded towards the kids, eyebrow raising.

“Look. I’m sorry, I know this is not how you all intended this year to go. And I’m sorry that I have caused this, but we must understand that now they’ve discovered my secret, it won’t be a long stretch to guess the rest of yours.” He looked at Dick specifically, reaching out and laying a hand over his sons. “I’m sorry, Dick. I know this will be hardest on you.”

Dick shrugged, keeping his eyes on the table. “Just . . . . Don’t tell them what I am and maybe they’ll just assume I’m another vampire or a witch like Tim, okay?”

“I won’t. I won’t be mentioning you kids at all. Just. . . be prepared, okay?”

They all nodded. Bruce sighed and stood, looking at Cass, who had been silent this whole time. She didn’t talk much anyway, too scared of her own powers, of using them against her family and hurting them.

“Cassandra. Do you have anything to add?”

The young siren looked up from the table and shook her head. Bruce offered her a smile before addressing everyone.

“I’m- I’m going to get ready and then I’ll be heading into the office to make a public statement. Please stay inside today. I’d like to ask you to stay off social media today too, but I know that’s not my place. Just, be careful what you say.”

Then he turned away and walked upstairs to his room, like nothing was different than any other day when he went into Wayne Enterprises. In reality, he was panicking. He was about to ruin his kids lives. He was going to be fine. He, Bruce Wayne, would be perfectly fine, he could handle this. It wasn’t the first scandal or drama he’d been involved in. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time he had been outed. He almost laughed at the memory, it had been nearly as stressful as this, when the media found out he was bisexual. Or, well, they thought he was bisexual, anyway, they just discovered he slept with both men and women and slapped a hefty label on him. Oh well, such was the life of a celebrity.

He got dressed into a dark blue suit with a off-white button down and a black tie, pulled on a pair of black oxfords and his rolex, grabbed some sunglasses and then headed out the door, getting in a Wayne Enterprises electric car and driving to Wayne Enterprises, calling his PR people on the way, and by the time he got there, he barely had an hour to wait before the press were there. He had been very vague with the PR about what he was going to be saying, but he had already made his own script. So the time came, and he was standing in front of about ten different microphones, and he was standing there, eyes closed, breathing deeply. He had seen Clark and Jimmy Olsen in the crowd, and knew that if things got bad, Clark wouldn’t hesitate to protect him, and Jimmy would back him up. 

“As I’m sure all of you know, nearly five weeks ago, an internet meme started, based off of me. Now this isn’t the first time this has happened, nor will it be the last, I’d be willing to bet,” Bruce said with a forced chuckle, glancing up and making eye contact with Clark, who gave him a reassuring smile. “However, this one spiraled wildly out of control.”

He cleared his throat, adjusted his paper, then his sleeve cuffs before continuing.

“Firstly, I would like to publicly say that the person who took it upon themselves to illegally investigate my private purchase records, and invade my families privacy in such a horrendous regard had been contacted by my lawyers, and we are pursuing legal action. Such an act is horrifying and I am disappointed in anyone who encouraged or praised them for doing so. Second of all, to the parents of the children who assaulted my son, I have never been more disgusted by someone’s parenting than I was that day. The fact that you would teach your child such prejudice against someone different than them, that they would attack an innocent boy simply for believing a rumor about his father is unbelievable and revolting.”

Bruce could hear his PR assistant twitching behind him, and knew he was skating thin ice right now. The press was staring at him like he had just come out and started personally attacking each of them.

“In that same regard, the toxic culture of the internet is absolutely unbelievable, and that is for not only the internet, but for all the media companies, tv talk shows, and news stations that thought it was okay to dig into my private life as deeply as they have been in the past few weeks. I have been the brunt of much public laughter and joke for a while, but this is something else entirely. To honestly think it is any of your business who I am, and what I am is just astounding, and yet no longer surprising. Celebrities have private lives for a reason, but you think it is your business to constantly harass them because they do not tell you every time they eat or drink or take a shit? This is absolutely disgusting behavior and I am absolutely dumbfounded by the amount of people that think this is okay.”

There was a sharp cough from behind him. Bruce paused to take a drink, looking back to Clark, who was covering his mouth, shoulders shaking as he tried to stop himself from laughing. 

“To continue,” Bruce started.

“Mr. Wayne,” a lady from behind him said, interrupting. 

He glanced back and caught a sharp glare from her, but he looked away again.

“ To continue , since I have not been able to leave my property in the past three weeks without constant harassment from paparazzi or even private civilians, I’ve given up trying to hide.”

He saw Clark’s eyes go wide, and he started to shake his head.

“So for the entire population of the planet that has been wondering, ‘Is Bruce Wayne a Vampire?’ the answer is yes. I am. I have been for nearly twenty years now. No, I do not remember who turned me. No, I did not consent to it. No, I do not drink the blood of people who I sleep with, that’s why I order shipments of blood. Yes, I can go out in the sun. No, garlic does not burn me.” That one got a laugh from the press. “I did not make my vampirism public knowledge because I did not believe it was anyone’s business, and as it is not the law, I did not have to. It is still not anyone’s business, but I see that as a celebrity, I have no choice in what I get to keep a secret anymore. As a preemptive measure, anyone who feels it necessary to harass any member of my family, myself included, will find themselves being contacted by my lawyers. So for once in your life, mind your fucking business .”

With that, Bruce spun on his heel and walked away, even as reporters jumped up, yelling, trying to get answers to their questions, which he easily ignored. He got in the elevator and let it go up a few floors before stopping it, sighing and sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

It wasn’t that he had been scared. Or. . . well, maybe he had been. There’s nothing quite as nerve wracking as having to publicly come out about something like that. Despite his speech, people would continue to assume they were entitled to information about his life, they would dig, they would find out people who he had been in contact with who had known about his vampirism, they would destroy those people, and dear god the kids. When they found out about the kids. . . Tim would be the best off, because mages are a little more respected. Jason and Damian would be in the same boat as him. . . but poor Cass and Dick. Sirens were some of the most oppressed mythological entities that still existed in this century, and Demons were just . . . well, I'm sure you can imagine how demons are treated, let alone an incubus. The amount of poor incubus and succubus pups Bruce had saved from sex rings was horrifying.

After sitting in the elevator for ten minutes, his phone freaking out with non-stop calls, he finally turned it on and continued to his office, answering the current call that was coming in, a call from Clark.

“Well, you caused quite the kerfuffle. You proud of yourself?”

“No. I’d literally rather take a wooden stake to the stomach then have done that. Do you understand how much I just messed up my kids’ lives?”

“It’ll be okay, Bruce, they’re tough, and they got a good dad to defend them. . . Are you okay?” Clark’s concerned voice asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Oh so you’re not.”

Bruce looked up as his door flew open. He was in the process of pouring himself a glass of whiskey when his very angry looking PR assistant walked in, fuming as her heels clicked across the floor. He just turned his back to her, uncorking the glass bottle.

“Anyway, I just wanted to say, I’m going to make sure to print your whole speech, the important parts, not just you outing yourself as a vampire. Especially the parts when you roasted twitter.”

“Thanks, Clark, I knew I could trust you.”

“Yeah of course.”

“Mr. Wayne.”

“Oh, sounds like you got company?”

“A little. Listen, I’ll call you back later?”

“Yeah, whenever. I’m here to talk.”

Bruce pulled his phone away from his ear and hung up, shooting his drink quickly before turning back to the press lady and putting on his charming businessman billionaire smile.

He got lectured for nearly thirty minutes about the importance of public relations and maintaining a good public image, since he is in fact the face of the company, and how much of a fit HR is going to have about a vampire being the face of Wayne Enterprises, was that safe? There was so much that was going to need to be discussed and-

“Mr. Wayne, should you be drinking that much?”

Bruce looked down at the glass in his hand, this was his third glass of whiskey. He shrugged and looked back up at her.

“Alcohol doesn’t affect me like humans.”

Then he laughed. He just started laughing. That was the first time he had been able to say that outloud in public, and for some reason it was so freeing. The woman just gave him an unamused look. Bruce shrugged again, finishing the drink and setting the glass aside.

“Listen. . . Lucy,” he said, walking over to her and touching her shoulder. “I’ve had a pretty few stressful weeks, I would appreciate a little time to myself. I trust you will be able to work all this out?”

She sighed heavily, and to her credit, didn’t flinch away. “Mr. Wayne, you can’t just shrug things like this off. We need to be prepared for anything the press might say.”

“What do you think they’ll say?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I think they’ll go after your family. I don’t know, obviously, if any of them are, but I think the media will immediately assume that your kids are vampires as well.”

Bruce just shook his head, moving to lean against his desk, arms crossed.

“It’s no one’s business if they are. They don’t have to inform anyone they don’t want to.”

“Of course not. Is your official statement that they aren’t?”

“My official statement is that the media needs to get their noses out of my private life. Most of my kids are minors, I will not take any harassment of them lightly, especially not the children. If anyone has issues with them, they can take it up with me and my lawyers.”

“Yes, Mr. Wayne.”

“Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to go home and be with my family.”

Lucy nodded her head and turned, walking to the door and pausing with her hand on it.

“And Mr. Wayne?”

“Yes?”

“I understand completely why you wanted to keep this a secret, the public can be ruthless to the supernatural.” She gave him a soft smile and then walked out.

Bruce stared after her, surprised. He wasn’t often surprised. But then again, he too had spent years hiding his secret, so why wouldn’t other people do the same.

He packed up all his stuff and managed to slip out without being swarmed by the press, and when he got home, the house was quiet. He frowned and looked around, poking his head into the kitchen first and finding it empty. Slowly he made his way through the bottom floor and in the living room found everyone. They were curled up on the sofas, an old black and white film that either Dick or Alfred picked, because the others hated them, was playing on the tv. Damian was curled up against Dick and appeared to be asleep, he still struggled with adjusting to being awake during the day, it was more natural for him to be nocturnal. Jason was lying lengthwise on the other sofa, his feet on Cass, and Tim was sat on Dick’s other side, tapping softly at his school laptop. Alfred was in his armchair, reading a book in the only source of light in the whole room.

Bruce smiled, but didn’t say anything, just softly turned and walked away. He went upstairs and changed into loungewear before coming back, only now did he make it known that he was home, knocking on the doorway. Ace popped up from off the floor and ran over to greet him, tail wagging happily. 

“Hey guys.”

“Hey, B, how’d the press release go?” Dick asked.

“I expect we’ll find out tomorrow morning,” Bruce said softly.

He walked over to the sofa Dick was on and bent down, picking Damian up easily, turning and sitting down with the 13 year old in his lap. Damian didn’t wake up, just snuggled into his father. No one spoke, they just sat in silence and watched the movie. Then Bruce’s phone started ringing. 

“Bruce,” Dick complained, shooting him a glare.

Bruce just offered him an apologetic look before shifting Damian to pull it out. The number was one of his lawyer’s. He frowned and stood, setting Damian, who had just woken up, down and standing, leaving the room before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Wayne. How are you?”

“I’ve been better.”

“Understandable. I’m not going to beat around the bush here, Mr. Wayne. I have bad news.”

“What is that?”

The lawyer sighed into the phone. Alfred had gotten up and was standing next to him, looking concerned.

“They’re sending a DSMC officer to investigate you.”

“What?!” 

“I’m sorry, but they’re worried about the kids safety, I tried to stop them but they pulled so many laws out on me. . .”

“It’s . . . It’s fine. When are they getting here?”

“Tomorrow, day after next? I’ll send you an email with the agents contact information.”

“Okay, thank you for letting me know. . . “

Bruce hung up his phone and looked at Alfred, rubbing his eyes. “God, this is going horrible.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Department of Supernatural and Mythological Creatures is sending an officer to investigate us, because they’re worried about the kids.”

“Well, that’s. . . unfortunate. We’ll just have to give them no basis for concern, hmm?” Alfred gave him a reassuring smile, patting his arm.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s what we’ll do.”

Bruce glanced back into the living room to the kids. He’d do anything to protect them. But they needed to know what’s going on. . . . Time for another unfun conversation.

Two days later, Bruce was sitting at home when the gate alarm started going off. He frowned and pulled up the app on his phone, looking at it. He could see a man standing in front of the camera, arms crossed, a motorcycle idling behind him. The man was admittedly very handsome, square jaw, fairly defined cheekbones, a strong nose. His skin was tanned, his short brown hair was windblown, and a pair of aviators were blocking his eyes. He was wearing a leather bomber, with what appeared to be military patches, the name Jordan just barely legible over his right peck.

Bruce took a breath to prepare himself. He knew what was going on. He knew who this man was, but he didn’t want to do this. He sighed and hit the microphone button.

“Hello?”

“Hi! I’m Agent Hal Jordan, I’m with the DSMC. Here to talk to Mr. Wayne.”

“Oh. Agent Jordan, we didn’t expect you so soon. . .” Bruce lied, making small talk as he quickly sent each of his kids a text to be on their best behaviour.

“Yeah, sorry, the office is bad at communication.”

“Right, I completely understand, let me just . . .” Bruce paused for a second, finally sending the last text and then clicking back into the gate controls, hitting the open button. “Come on up.”

“Thanks!”

Bruce closed the app and stood. He closed his laptop, grabbed his cardigan and pulled it on before walking out of the office, calling Ace, who came bounding over from the living room. They walked to the front door, getting there before Officer Jordan.

“I need you to behave too,” Bruce said to the dog, who gave a soft whine, tongue flopping out of his mouth.

The knock on the door didn’t surprise him, and he was opening it before it was even finished, holding a hand out to Ace. 

“Ah, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce looked up into brown eyes, and decided immediately this man was much more attractive in real life then on a shitty gate camera. They were the same height, and it was hard to tell from first guess, but Bruce would estimate he outweighed Hal, not even considering his superhuman strength. Agent Jordan offered a friendly smile and held out a hand.

“Good to meet you.”

“And you, Mr. Jordan.”

Chapter Text

“Really, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

Bruce shot his new guest a glare that was quickly covered with a smile and a light shrug. Air-headed billionaire, not vigilante, Bruce, keep your act together.

“It’s nothing,” Bruce murmured softly, returning to making the tea. “Alfred would be disappointed in me if I didn’t at least make you tea.”

“Alfred?”

“My- Well. . . he’s a lot of things. My butler, my father, the kids grandfather. He’s family at this point.”

“And is he a vampire?”

Bruce laughed and shook his head. “No. He’s quite appalled at the thought of ever having to drink another human’s blood. I offered once, as a joke. Man, you should have heard the lecture I got.”

Hal gave a laugh, tilting his head back slightly, eyes crinkling into crows feet.

Bruce finished pouring the tea and turned, offering one of his few plain mugs to Hal. “Here’s the sugar, and I can get cream, if you’d like.”

Hal just shook his head, putting some sugar in and stirring it for a few seconds before sipping it.

“So. Mr. Wayne, I’m not really here to cause issues. The department just decided I needed to play CPS today. So if it’s quite alright I’d like to just talk with the kids, maybe watch them interact, so on so forth.”

“Mr. Jordan,” Bruce said, feeling his billionaire act slip immediately as he set down his tea. “Why are you really here?”

“What?”

“I know DSMC doesn’t send officers to investigate every vampire parent. Why are you here.”

Hal frowned. “To make sure your children are safe.”

“From what? From me? There are much bigger issues in the world that you should be fixing then investigating me. I adopted them because I intend to care for them, Mr. Jordan. They’re not here for any other purpose then to grow up and be happy.”

“Do you have an issue with me, Mr. Wayne?”

“Indeed I do, Mr. Jordan.”

Hal narrowed his eyes, setting down his own tea and putting his hands on his hips.

“I don’t think you’re here for the safety of my kids. I think that’s what you were told to do, but someone in your department wants to know if my children are supernatural creatures as well.”

“Are they?”

“That is none of your damn business.”

“Actually, it really is,” Hal shot back. “It very much is my business. Now, if they’re just vampires like you, that’s one thing. But we both know there’s more than vampires in this world.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to snap back when the door came flying open.

“Bruce!” It was Tim and he sounded panicked.

Bruce whirled around to face the kid, who was holding a shirt to his hand.

“What happened!” He exclaimed, easily scooping the small teen up and setting him down on the counter, taking his hand and carefully pulling away the shirt.

“I broke my cup.”

“How did you cut your hand on your cup?” Hal asked from behind them, moving closer.

Tim’s blood was sharp and tangy in Bruce’s nose, and he felt a twitch of hunger but ignored it, worry easily overriding it.

Tim glanced down at Bruce, then at the strange man.

“I was trying to clean up the glass.”

A lie. Bruce knew which cup he had been talking about, and it was not a drinking glass, but rather one of his magical instruments.

“Okay. Hold that tight on your hand,” Bruce instructed, stepping back and looking around the kitchen for a moment, scowling. Then he remembered and reached under the sink, pulling out the first aid kit.

“Did you get it cleaned up?”

“No, Jason was gonna do it though,” Tim told him softly, shooting another look at Hal.

“Oh. Tim, this is Hal Jordan, he’s the DSMC officer. Mr. Jordan, this is Tim Drake-Wayne.”

“Hello, Tim,” Hal responded with a smile, eyes sweeping over Tim quickly.

“Hi,” Tim said softly.

Bruce had pulled out some gauze and wrap from the rather large first aid kit, and carefully removed the shirt again, trying to get a better look at the wounds.

“I’m gonna have to clean this, okay? Squeeze my arm if it hurts too much,” Bruce instructed, ripping open an antiseptic wipe and preparing to swipe it over Tim’s hand. The boy’s free one grabbed onto Bruce’s large bicep.

He quickly but firmly wiped Tim’s hand a few times, getting a better look at it. Three small cuts, no glass appeared to be inside still. Tim’s hand was squeezing his arm heavily, but he didn’t wait, just threw the wipe in the sink, grabbed some antibacterial ointment, quickly rubbing that in the wound and then wrapping it with the gauze.

“B, I got the glass all cleaned up.”

Bruce barely bothered to look up as the kitchen door swung open again, Jason entering, shaking a trashcan full of shards.

“Thank you, lad.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. Just some scars, nothing more.”

“Cool. Who’s the badge.”

Bruce snorted, finally glancing up at his second eldest, who was wearing sweatpants and nothing else, pale scars visible on his chest.

“Jason, I-” Bruce gave up, sighing heavily. “Officer Hal Jordan.”

“Sup,” Jason said, nodding.

“How are you not cold, Jason?” Tim asked, finally relaxing his grip on Bruce’s arm and instead starting to bite at his fingernail.

“I’m just not.”

Bruce glanced over from his expert bandaging of Tim’s hand to see Jason opening the fridge, scowling into it. For once in his life, he found himself silently begging Jason not to eat properly. Please please eat human food. Jason literally slammed the door shut and turned to walk into the pantry.

“Jason, don’t slam doors,” Bruce corrected.

A raspberry was his returning answer, and Bruce shot Hal an exasperated look. Hal just laughed, shaking his head. 

“Okay, Tim. Please be careful, and rest that hand,” Bruce said, letting go of Tim’s hand and moving to clean up the leftover wrapping.

“Thanks, dad!” Tim exclaimed, jumping off the counter and running to the pantry. Within a second him and Jason came back out together, bickering over a box of poptarts.

Bruce just sighed and washed his hands before picking up his tea and sipping it.

“So they just call you whatever?” Hal asked, motioning at the still swinging door.

Bruce shrugged. “Yeah. They’re all legally mine, but whatever they’re comfortable with. Sometimes they go back and forth between Bruce and dad in the same sentence. Jason generally goes for B, and Damian has stubbornly stuck with Father for two years now.”

Hal hummed softly, nodding.

“Anyway, shall we get to business?”

“Right.”

They ended up going to the dining room, sitting at one end of the table, while Hal asked a million fairly invasive questions and Bruce deflected about half of them. This Officer Jordan, for all his charms and beauty, was starting to get on his nerves. They talked for nearly thirty minutes before they got interrupted, this time by Dick walking in with Damian over his shoulder. Bruce saw them first, and had this moment of fear before he checked that Dick was human presenting. Luckily, he was, the romanian descent man had tanned skin, not as dark as Damian, but still significantly darker then Bruce. He looked like any other 26 year old, build wise. He was currently wearing sweats and a hoodie. Damian was cast over his shoulder and angrily beating at his back like any kid being manhandled would.

“Oh.” Dick stopped short, looking at Hal. Bruce could see the gears turning in his head. “Hello, there.”

“No,” Bruce grumbled, Dick sent him a pout.

“Jordan, this is my eldest, Dick Grayson, and my youngest, Damian Wayne.”

Damian was set on the ground, and Hal looked from Bruce to the young vampire, then back to Bruce.

“Boys, this is DSMC officer Hal Jordan.”

“Nice to meet you, Officer Jordan,” Dick said with a friendly smile, walking closer and holding out a hand.

Hal stood and shook it. “And you, Mr. Grayson. Hello, Damian.”

“Tt,” the young teen grumbled, walking over to his father. “Father, Grayson wants to take me to the arcade.”

“Damian. We’ve talked-”

“It’s not fair that you’re keeping us inside, B. At least let me take them out to the Kent’s or something.”

“Dick. Can we not. Right now?” Bruce turned a glare to Dick, clenching his jaw.

The incubus narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms.

“You’re keeping them inside?” Hal asked, eyes narrowing.

“Due to my son being physically assaulted over a rumor that I was a vampire, yes, I believed it best for their safety that they stay on the manor grounds. They are more than welcome to invite their friends out to visit, and they know this. They have full access to all of the facilities on the manor grounds, and are able to roam the entire yard and barn. They’re not locked in their rooms or anything like that, Mr. Jordan.”

Hal frowned. “Dick, do you think we could talk?” he asked, looking at him.

“Uh. . . Sure. Dami, why don’t you go play with Ace?”

“Tt. I’m not a child, Grayson.”

Damian spun on his heel and walked out anyway. Bruce sighed and stood, picking up his teacup. He looked at Dick and gave him the best ‘Do Not Fuck This Up’ look he could muster, then walked away, into the kitchen.

Alfred got back before Hal was done talking with Dick, so Bruce helped him carry in the groceries, along with Cass, who had appeared the moment she heard Alfred’s car.

“I noted the motorcycle in the driveway. I assume our guest has arrived?” the elderly man said, as he carefully organized the spices in his cabinet, replacing empty ones.

“Yeah, he’s talking with Dick right now,” Bruce answered as he disappeared into the pantry with a bag full of canned goods. Alfred was apocalypse buying again.

“You deemed that a wise decision?”

“I wasn’t really given a choice.”

Bruce folded the canvas grocery bag and set it down before putting away the rest of the snacks. Cass was silently filling the fridge. A rumble filled the room, and everyone looked at Bruce’s stomach.

“Huh. . . guess it’s lunch time.”

Cass giggled lightly and reached into a drawer in the fridge, pulling out a bag of A-, passing it over to Bruce who just turned and put it in the microwave.

“How did your talk go?” Alfred asked, watching Cass jump on the counter with an apple before putting some things away into the freezer.

“It could have been better. He claims he’s here to make sure the kids are safe, but it appears he’s really here to see if any of them are non-human.”

“What do you mean?”

Bruce grabbed a straw, then pulled his warmed blood out of the microwave, turning to face Alfred.

“It’s just, the way he’s acting, digging into every little thing about the kids, questioning the dumbest things. Tim cut his hand earlier and you should have seen the way he watched us.”

Alfred hummed, Bruce sighed, puncturing the blood bag and sticking his straw in, he hadn’t taken more than two drinks when the kitchen door swung open. They all turned to face it to find Hal and Dick walking in. Hal slammed on the breaks when he saw Bruce, who was standing there drinking blood like it was a capri-sun, eyes wide. It was like this was the first time he was really realizing Bruce actually was a vampire. Bruce blinked back, slowly took the straw from his mouth.

“Mr. Jordan, this is Alfred Pennyworth, and Cassandra Wayne,” he said, licking his lips and unknowingly smearing blood across them.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Hal said, finally pulling his gaze from Bruce to look at the new people.

“And you, Mr. Jordan. Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Wayne already made me some.”

Alfred nodded approvingly, then glanced over at Bruce, eyebrow arching as he cleared his throat.

“For God’s sake, Bruce, do you have any class?” He asked, looking down at the bag.

Bruce winced, looking down at it as well. “I was hungry, okay.”

He turned and started looking for a large enough cup.

“Do you mind if I talk to Ms. Cass?” Hal asked, his voice suddenly guarded.

“Do you understand sign language?” Dick was asking, looking in the fridge.

“No?"

There was a pause in conversation, where everyone looked over at Cass and she shrugged, motioning to Dick.

“I can translate,” Dick offered.

“That’d be fine.”

“B?”

“Yeah, go ahead, Dick. You know sign as well as I do.”

The three left, back to the dining room, and Bruce turned to face Alfred once he had finished emptying the blood into the cup.

“I think the poor Lad’s eyes almost popped out of his skull when he saw you,” Alfred said with a chuckle, crossing his arms.

“I was hungry!” Bruce defended himself once more, glaring at Alfred.

The man was unperturbed.

“Well, did you remind the kids to be careful what they say?”

“Yes, but you know how they are. . . “

Alfred sent him a glare. “Master Bruce, they spend their nights running around dressed in kevlar and spandex with you. They know to keep their mouths shut. Show a little trust in them for once, Bruce.”

“I do, Alfred, it's just . . .“ Bruce trailed off with a sigh.

“Did you see Clark’s article about your press release?”

“No?”

Alfred smiled smugly and turned, reaching into the last bag to be unpacked and pulled out a newspaper, passing it over. Bruce frowned, setting down his cup and taking it. It wasn’t the top headline, but it was a highlighted article, down at the bottom of the front page. “ Bruce Wayne Lectures Media For Toxic Culture” . Bruce smiled to himself, trust Clark to say what no one else would. Everyone else had just been saying things about “Bruce Wayne Admits to Vampirism” or something of the sort.

The rest of the afternoon became a wheel of sending for kids, giving them glares and reminders to behave and then sending them to talk to Hal. Hal kept a fairly professional air, but it was clear after his talk with Tim that something had come up that made him very suspicious. Tim had been the one he was worried about. The boy was always a little out of it and recently it had just gotten worse with midterms, plus he was practicing harder spells, and going out with him as Robin still. It was . . . a rough time for him. After Hal had talked to Damian, supervised by Alfred, he approached Bruce, who was in his office, answering emails.

“So. . .”

“Did you finish your investigation, Mr. Jordan?” Bruce asked, not even trying to hide the coldness in his voice.

“Tim’s a witch.”

Bruce didn’t even falter in his typing, even as his brain tried to figure out how to answer that. He decided to just lightly arch one eyebrow and keep working.

“I’m not dumb, Mr. Wayne,” Hal said, pulling up a chair and setting it in front of Bruce’s desk. “I can see the sigils on his skin.”

“Okay. Is there anything wrong with being a witch?"

“There can be, if he isn’t studying under a qualified teacher.”

“He is.”

“Who.”

Bruce sighed, clicking out of his email and going into their files, looking for the information.

“Barbara Gordon?” Hal asked, after he turned the monitor around. “Isn't she some kind of computer programmer?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know she was a witch. . . .”

“She’s not very public with it, but the DSMC does know."

Hal made a huh noise, pulling out a notebook and scribbling that down. Then he put it away and looked up at Bruce, watching him in silence for a bit.

“How does a guy like you end up with kids like that?” He asked finally.

Bruce frowned, narrowing his eyes. “How is that a DSMC officer’s business?"

“It’s not.”

“You really don’t know how to mind your business, do you?”

Hal shrugged with one shoulder, reaching up to push his hair out of his face.

“Technically this is my business.”

“Technically, I believe your job description was ‘make sure I wasn’t drinking my children’s blood’. Which I’m not. So if you’ve quite finished your investigation-”

The crash of lighting startled them both. Bruce jumped up, turning to the big glass window to the side of the room. How had he missed the storm raging outside? The wind was vicious, wiping the trees in the yard around, already blowing off the early spring leaves, and rain started pelting down on the yard within seconds of the first lightning strike.

“Well shit,” Hal said softly, walking over to it. “I can’t drive in that.”

Bruce scowled and turned back to his computer, quickly bringing up the radar. The storm was going to last all night, it appeared. He looked up at Hal, who was now tugging on his hair as he stared outside. He did a quick calculation, groaned in annoyance and then spoke.

“We have plenty of guest rooms. You can stay the night.”

Hal’s head whipped around, mouth falling open. He seemed at a loss for words, then smirked.

“I’m not that easy, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce stared at him, then scoffed in annoyance, turning away and sending his emails.

“Well, then feel free to drive home in the storm that will last until about four am.”

“Wait a minute-” Hal ran after Bruce, who was walking out the door. “I would. . . Staying would be great, if that wouldn’t be too much of a bother?”

Bruce didn’t comment, going to the kitchen to find Alfred and Jason.

“Jason, can you help Mr. Jordan put his motorcycle in the garage?” He asked, nodding back towards the man.

Jason scowled, glancing between them.

“Why?”

“It’s storming. He can’t drive in the storm, so he’s going to be spending the night, and I figured he would prefer it if his motorcycle wasn’t left out in the weather.”

“Oh,” both Hal and Jason said together.

Jason shrugged and brushed past Bruce. “Come on, Hal.”

Bruce watched the two leave with a mild spike of concern, before pulling out his phone to text the kids and inform them of the situation.

“Well, somethings gotten into you.”

“What?” Bruce asked, looking up at the old butler.

“You have never, in your life, willingly offered for someone to spend the night, not even Clark,” Alfred informed him, white eyebrow arching gracefully.

“Well, I couldn’t just let him leave in this storm, and besides, I knew you’d do it if I didn’t. Better to seem hospitable, right?”

“You do know you won’t be able to go out tonight then, right?"

“Yeah, I know. I just told the kids.”

Bruce went and washed his hands before starting to chop vegetables to help Alfred with the soup.

“I’m sure they’ll take that well.”

Bruce hummed. “He knows about Tim.”

“You told him?”

“No. He found out. Tim must have forgotten to use a masking spell.”

Alfred just hummed, looking up at him and staying silent for a moment.

“Well, we can’t undo what’s been done, I suppose. Just protect the others.”

They left it at that, working together to finish supper. Eventually Jason and Hal came back, Jason laughing about something Hal had just said.

“So yeah, apparently punching your SO is a great way to get kicked out of the Air Force, and here I am.”

“The DSMC hired you even though you decked your SO?” Jason asked, hopping up on the counter and turning to face Hal.

“Well, they were a little short staffed at the time, and it turns out being discharged isn’t as big of a deal when it comes to handling Supernatural beings.”

Jason made a little huh noise, bouncing his heel against the cabinets until Alfred clicked his tongue and shot him a glare. He ducked his head and stilled his feet.

“You were in the military?” Alfred asked, politely.

“Air Force, actually.”

“His pilot name was Highball ,” Jason said, grinning.

“Really?” Bruce asked, eyebrow raising.

“Yeah, listen, I didn’t make that choice."

Bruce made a little huh noise, turning to rinse off his cutting board and then stick it in the dishwasher.

“Jason, who’s night was it to do dishes?” He asked as he quickly washed his knife.

“Tim- shit. . . make the demon brat do it.”

“Jason!”

“You know it as well as I do!”

“Jason! We’ve talked about this!”

They glared at each other, Bruce using his signature bat-leer. Jason gave his Red Hood glare in return. For nearly a minute they did this.

“Oh for. In God’s name, stop it!”

Bruce flinched away from Alfred, whipping his glare over. Alfred just arched an eyebrow.

“If you are quite done glaring at your child, could you please go show your new guest to a room and get your other children for supper while you’re up there. Master Jason, we have asked you to stop calling your younger brother such names, and we will not ask again.”

Jason sighed. “Yeah, sorry. Alfie.”

“You can help me with the dishes tonight.” A statement, not a request, Jason just nodded.

Bruce sighed through his nose, but dried his hands and then walked out, Hal on his heels. Bruce just stayed silent, leading him upstairs, then down the hall towards the guest rooms.

“Siblings, huh?”

Bruce glanced behind him. “I’m sorry about them, they. . . not all of them are on great terms with Damian.”

“Well, bullying the younger brother is how it always works,” Hal said with a shrug. “It’s just like that.”

Bruce decided not to comment, walking up to the first guest room and pushing the door open, immediately heading to the closet to get linens and turning to start making the bed.

“Oh you don’t have to do that.”

A look at Hal silenced him, but he walked around and grabbed the other side of the fitted sheet and tucked it down over the corner.

“And thanks, by the way, for letting me stay. I know you don’t like me. But . . . yeah, thanks.”

Bruce grunted. “Just don’t go wandering around.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want to come across your dungeon or coffin or anything.”

Bruce looked up at him, going deadpan. “For someone whose job is to deal with supernatural creatures, you are awfully insensitive and unprofessional about vampirism.”

Hal shrugged. “Live and Laugh, right?”

"You're an ass," Bruce said decidedly, before turning and walking out of the room.

He had made up his mind. He was not going to like this man. He was crude and brash and had no sense of manners. He shoved his nose in places it didn't belong and was clearly just here to expose his family. Well Bruce wouldn't let him. He had made it 20 years pretending to be human, his kids could make two days. . . He just needed to remind them of some things.

Chapter Text

"I'm gonna fucking strangle him!"

"Get back here you runt!"

"I dare you to touch me, Todd!"

Bruce sighed at the screaming that followed, looking up at Dick and Cass. They just shrugged back to him. 

"OW! HE BIT ME!"

Okay now that was cause for concern. Bruce set down his book and stood, exiting the lounge and walking towards the source of the screaming, now high-pitched which led him to assume Damian was being injured in some way.

Sure enough, he rounded the corner and found his youngest son being pinned in a headlock by Jason, Tim stood a few feet away, hands raised as he started a spell.

"Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, do not finish that spell," Bruce growled, voice low and threatening.

All three boys froze, Tim slowly turned to look at Bruce, eyes wide with fear.

"Father! They attacked me!" Damian whimpered, thrashing in Jason's hold, but the much larger man easily held him.

"Bruce, he bit me!" Jason countered.

Sure enough, there were two lovely indents in Jason's forearm, followed by a perfectly defined teeth mark. Bruce sighed, pinning Damian with a glare, at which the young teen froze.

"That is unacceptable behavior, Damian, and you know that."

"But Father-"

"No. I don't want to hear any buts, if's or why's. There is no reason biting your brother is a viable option."

Damian squinted at him. "I can think of about four."

"Damian."

Damian clenched his jaw as he glared back.

"One."

"Fathe-"

"Two."

Damian left out a hefty sigh. "Todd, I apologize for biting you."

Jason, who was still holding Damian in a headlock, grunted.

"Thank you."

"Jason Peter Todd. Let your brother go right now."

Jason released him and Damian quickly scrambled to his feet, but not without hitting Jason in the stomach. Jason glared and sat up, rubbing his forearm.

"Now someone explain what the hell happened here."

"We found the little cre-" Jason cut off with a sharp glare. "Punk sneaking out of Tim's room."

"And that's an excuse to attack him?"

"No. We chased him down and he-" Jason suddenly stopped, looking behind Bruce.

Bruce turned to see Hal Jordan leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking fairly amused.

"He was just being a brat," Tim finished, looking at the floor.

Bruce sighed. Clearly Damian had done something else that couldn't be said in the present company. He gave Damian a look that clearly said "we'll talk about this later" and then helped Jason up.

"Tim, Damian, you're both grounded for the rest of the evening. Phones."

"What?!" The boys screeched in unison.

"Father! You can't! That's the only-" Damian cut himself off quickly.

"Bruce, you can't keep us locked inside and take our phones?! How am I gonna talk to my friends?"

"It's just for the night, you'll get them back in the morning. And besides Tim, there are far worse ways I could punish both of you. I suggest you not push it before I start taking other things."

The two glared at him but started pulling out their phones.

"Can I at least tell Colin?" Damian grumbled, holding his tightly and glaring at the floor.

Bruce was a weak man. He really tried, but he was weak, and he knew how Damian struggled with friends. He sighed.

"Yes yes. You both can text people quickly and let them know," he said, waving his hand.

The two quickly unlocked their phones and started rapidly typing. Bruce focused on Jason.

"I can't ground you, but I'm very disappointed in you, Jason. You should know better than this. Violence isn't the answer."

Jason snorted and shook his head. "Whatever old man."

Bruce watched him walk away, feeling a distinct stab of annoyance and sadness go through him. You'd think Jason and Bruce would be the closest, due to the vampire thing. But no, it felt like some days Jason despised Bruce for having turned him, which was understandable, really. There wasn't a day that went by that Bruce didn't hate the bastard that changed him. But Jason's was a different situation.

"Here," Damian grumbled, shoving his powered down phone into Bruce's hand and then stomping off towards the living room.

Tim typed for a little longer before powering his phone down and handing it over. He immediately turned and walked back upstairs without a word. Bruce sighed and pocketed both.

"Stellar parenting."

Bruce felt anger flaring through him hotter than the sun and he whirled around, eyeing Hal, who was still leaning against the wall.

"Mr. Jordan. Might I remind you that your job here is to investigate my supernatural bloodline, not question my parenting."

Hal narrowed his eyes. "Actually, my job is to judge your parenting. I'm here to make sure those kids are safe and aren't at danger from their vampire caretaker."

Bruce couldn't help the tiny snarl that exited him.

"Are you suggesting my children are in danger?"

"I'm just making sure that you aren't, oh, say, drinking their blood or anything."

Bruce snarled louder, baring his fangs at Hal. To his credit, the man flinched away, then immediately his eyes narrowed, but Bruce didn't let him talk.

"If you think, Officer Jordan, that you can come into my house and threaten my family and I will just step aside and let you take my children on false grounds, then you are as much of a fool as you are a boor."

"Are you threatening me Mr. Wayne?"

"I will do what is necessary to protect my family."

"Holy fuck, BRUCE! HELP!"

Both men jumped at the scream, and Bruce felt himself easily shift into smoke and rush into the living room. What he found when he got in there made him go instantly sick. Damian was laying passed out on the floor, a steady stream of blood coming from his head that Dick was scrambling to rip off his shirt and press against.

"What happened?!" Bruce yelled, easily scooping Damian up while Dick cradled his head.

"He was just standing there, and he was looking kind of pale and then he just. . . Shit, he just passed out!" 

"Cass, go get Alfred! Hal, do you remember seeing where I put the first aid kit? If so, go grab it."

Bruce didn't wait for them to listen, just carried his son into the dining room, tossing aside the table cloth and setting Damian on it, bending down to listen to his breathing. Damian may be a vampire, but he was still partially mortal and, as Bruce had learned, he still needed air, unlike Jason or Bruce did.

Alfred, Jason, Tim, and Cass came bursting in together, all looking panicked. Alfred immediately shoved Bruce out of the way, who whirled on Tim.

"What the hell did you do to him!?" Bruce exclaimed, pointing at Damian.

"I didn't do anything!" Tim exclaimed, looking scared suddenly.

"Then why did he pass out?!"

"I don't know!"

"Tim, you're the only magic-"

"Bruce, stop yelling," Cass' melodious voice broke through. "Everyone calm down."

Just like that the tension in the room fizzled out. Bruce closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. Then he opened them and met Tim's scared face.

"I shouldn't have yelled, Tim," he murmured, reaching out to touch Tim's arm.

"Here's the first aid kit!"

Bruce looked up at Hal, who ran over to give Alfred the kit. Then he stepped back, looking as alarmed as Bruce still felt.

"Okay, does anyone know why he may have passed out?" Bruce asked, looking at all his kids as he walked over to Damian, gently picking up his wrist. His hand was so cold, colder than usual.

Nobody spoke up for a moment, Alfred was silently bandaging his head.

"Oh hell," Dick breathed suddenly. "Bruce. I don't think I've seen him feed all day."

"Crap," Bruce muttered, bending and pressing an ear to Damian's stomach, which was gurgling softly.

"Feed? He ate dinner with us?" Hal, standing to one side, looked confused.

"Jason, go grab an AB bag and a straw, please," Bruce murmured, glancing back at his second oldest, then over at Hal. "Warm it up like he likes."

"Yes, Bruce."

Jason disappeared, leaving the door swinging in his wake. Bruce glanced back up at Hal, who was standing there with his mouth open.

"Okay, this should hold for now. I would like to take him to check for a concussion," Alfred said, carefully taping down the end of the head bandage he had put on Damian.

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce murmured. He sat down in a chair and gently pulled Damian into his lap, cradling the small teen like he was still a child.

"Damian, I need you to wake up," Bruce said softly, gently shaking the boy's shoulder.

"Wait-" Hal started as Jason came back in.

Jason passed him the warmed bag of blood, and Bruce quickly punctured it, stabbing the straw in. He felt his mouth watering at the smell of blood, but ignored it as best he could, instead waking Damian up.

"Wha?" The boy murmured, opening his eyes.

"Drink," Bruce ordered, putting the straw up to Damian's mouth.

The boy must have been too tired to fight, because he just closed his lips around the straw and started drinking greedily. Bruce let out a sigh of relief, letting his eyes close for a moment before looking up and finding everyone staring at him.

"Okay. That's enough staring," he murmured gently.

The others took the hint and started scattering, Alfred gently herding them out. Dick lingered for a little longer, and Bruce recognized his guilty look.

"Dick. Don't blame yourself. I didn't catch it either. You know as well as I do, this has always been an issue."

"I know I just . . . He's so small, Bruce," Dick murmured.

Bruce nodded. He could feel his son's ribs right now, but that didn't change the fact that it wasn't Dick's fault.

"It's okay, Dick. I'll make sure he feeds plenty."

Dick sighed and nodded, stepping out. Just Bruce, Damian and Hal were left. 

"He's a vampire."

"He's my biological son. Do you really think he wouldn't be?"

Hal was silent for a moment, then he walked over and pulled out his chair.

"What did you mean by ‘this has always been an issue’?" Hal asked, watching as Damian shot him a glare before shifting more into Bruce, turning his face away.

"He. . ." Bruce paused, glancing down at Damian, who had his eyes completely closed. "He doesn't like drinking blood. Human, animal, you name it. We've been working on finding a supplemental source but . . . Nothing has worked yet."

Hal made a little "oh" noise. 

"I do my best to monitor his feeding, for the record," Bruce told him. "But getting a thirteen year old to eat is much harder than getting a five year old to eat."

"Father," Damian grumbled in complaint.

"Not now, Damian," Bruce gently chided, watching Damian suck at the bottom of the bag for a moment before giving up. "I want you to go get another pint and drink as much of that as you can."

Damian grumbled but stood, wobbling a bit and then heading to the kitchen. Bruce looked up at Hal, before reaching up to rub his eyes. Neither spoke, just considered each other.

"You're an odd man, Mr. Wayne," Hal said finally, looking away.

Bruce snorted lightly. He had no idea.

“Your kids are pretty accident prone, aren’t they?”

“A little. . . . okay, a lot. Just last week, Tim tripped at school and twisted his ankle, Dick nearly sprained his wrist doing gymnastics and I swear to god Jason almost got into a bike accident with Roy.”

“Roy?”

“Yeah, his. . .“ Bruce hesitated, then shrugged. They weren’t exactly private about it. “His boyfriend, I guess? I don’t know.”

Hal chuckled, then looked up as Damian came back in, sitting across from Hal, and on Bruce’s left, sucking on another blood bag. Bruce glanced over to see with relief that some of the color had returned to his cheeks.

“Damian-”

“I know, Father,” Damian grumbled, barely stopping drinking long enough to talk.

“Then you need to stop doing this. One day you’re going to pass out in a much worse situation and we won’t be there to help you. You know how much you need to drink daily, and I’m going to be on you about it from now on.”

Damian gave him the heftiest glare a thirteen year old could possibly manage, and shifted to face away from Bruce. The tired father sighed and shook his head.

“Mr. Wayne . . . “ Hal said, after a long pause of silence, looking up at Bruce. 

“Yes?”

“I’m not-” Hal cut off, looking away.

“Yes?”

“Nothing. . . Nothing. Good night, Mr. Wayne, Damian.”

Bruce watched Hal get up and leave, and wondered idly if he had made a mistake exposing Damian’s secret to this man. Well, not all of his secrets, but. . . a fairly big one.

“What did you say to your brothers earlier?” Bruce asked, looking over at Damian again.

Damian pointedly avoided his eyes.

“Damian. . . fine. Why were you in Tim’s room?”

“I needed sage.”

Bruce blinked at him for a moment. Bruce wasn’t a magic user, but from his time spent around Talia, Barbara and Tim, he had learned quite a bit.

“Why?”

Damian swallowed, licked his lips, cleared his throat, and glanced to Bruce once, toying with his straw.

“I’ve been having dreams,” he confessed finally.

Bruce scowled. “What of?”

“Grandfather.”

“So. . . Do you think he’s actually visiting you?”

“I do not know,” Damian sighed, truthfully. “I just. . . had to try something.”

Bruce nodded in understanding. “Well, why don’t you ask Tim, next time, instead of stealing from him?”

“Tt, and get mocked? Unlikely.”

“Damian. You won’t get mocked for having dreams. We all have nightmares here. I can promise you that.”

“Father. Why do you sleep? Surely you do not need it.”

Bruce sighed, letting the conversation change slide. 

“I suppose I don’t, and you know some days I do not. . . but, I guess it’s more of a last attempt to hold onto my humanity.”

Damian scoffed again, the teen looked back at his father, eyebrow arching. “A pitiful attempt. Embrace it, Father. We cannot die, not by normal human means, I suggest coming to terms with it.”

Damian stood, offering the half finished blood bag to Bruce. He took it, shaking his head at his son.

“You’re thirteen, you can’t honestly tell me you’re okay with not being able to age?”

“I am still aging, Father. I do not know when I will stop aging, if I ever will. I am . . . an interesting case, compared to you and Todd. But, I can’t say I mind the idea too terribly much.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “You do know this means that if you fall in love with a mortal, you’ll have to watch them fade away and die while you remain unchanged.”

Damian scoffed, glancing back at Bruce as he started towards the door. “Falling in love is for those who are not brave enough to face life alone.”

“Damian, that’s not true,” Bruce said to a closing door. 

He just sighed again and sucked on his son’s leftovers, pulling a face. AB was not his preferred choice, it was like drinking someone else’s coffee order, but he wouldn’t just let good blood go to waste.

Damian was right. Since he wasn’t a human turned vampire, no one quite knew what was going to happen. Plus he had a high disposition to magic, specifically necromancy, that was equally curious. Talia hadn’t been sure how that would affect his vampirism, but she was too busy glowing with pride to really explain much to Bruce. 

Bruce sat in silence for a while, just the roar of the storm outside keeping him company. He didn’t realize how long he sat there, thoughts drifting to Batman related things, thinking about his cases, about what he needed to work on when he could get down into the cave next. It’d be too risky to go tonight, unfortunately, but tomorrow, he wasn’t going into the office still, he could go get a bunch of work done.

Eventually he got up and cleaned up the dining room, then made his way to the living room, finding it empty. With a check of the clock, he realized how late it really was, but . . . he wasn’t tired yet. So he shrugged and picked up his book again, sitting down to read. It’d be the perfect night for a warm fire to be going in the fireplace, but even in Gotham, mid spring is far too warm for that. So he just sat there, reading by lamp light, long into the night.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Bruce was a little startled by the sudden voice, looked up to find Hal Jordan, wearing his jeans and a gray t-shirt, but barefoot, and holding his pants up with one hand. He had clearly been asleep not too long ago, judging from how he squinted into the room, and from his messy hair.

“What?” He asked, suddenly feeling his mouth go a bit dry. He could see how the shirt clung to well sculpted muscles. It was hiked up by his hips, showing off a strip of tanned smooth skin.

A very not PG thought ran through Bruce’s head right then. He scowled at himself, glancing down at his book.

“Storm keep you up?” Hal asked, leaning a shoulder into the doorway.

“No, I just . . don’t go to bed until late.”

There was a pause of silence, and then a grin formed on Hal’s face.

“Is it-” he started, clearly struggling to keep himself from speaking. “Is it. . . Is it because you’re nocturnal?”

Bruce just stared at him, wondering at once how a man could be so moronic and also how long he could go to jail for murdering a DSMC officer. Not that anyone needed to know it was him. He could stage a pretty good murder if he needed to. Lord knows he had seen plenty.

“Sorry,” Hal said, laughing, “That was inappropriate.”

“You really just can’t stop yourself, can you?” Bruce asked, looking back down to his book.

“What can I say, I see a good joke opportunity and I take it. It’s good to have a sense of humor.”

Bruce shot him a glare. “I have a sense of humor?”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’m just not insensitive enough to make jokes about a whole species of people.”

Hal sighed, shaking his head.

“Is there a reason you came down, Mr. Jordan?”

“No. The storm woke me, and I came down to get water. Saw the light on and was curious.”

“Well, next time, curb your curiosity. We wouldn’t want to kill the cat, now would we?”

Hal snorted. “Message delivered.”

Bruce glanced up to watch him walk away, and okay, maybe he watched Hal’s ass. Maybe. So what? Sue him for having eyes, I guess.

The next morning, Hal was gone long before Bruce was awake, and that was perfectly okay. He was perfectly happy to have Officer Jordan far from his family.

Chapter Text

Bruce wasn’t very pleased. To be quite frank, he had figured he would be seeing Officer Jordan again, but he had hoped it would be more than three weeks from his first visit. So he wasn’t very happy.

Bruce had been at the watchtower since he got off patrol last night. He was in charge of the surveillance computers for the day, clicking through their different programs, keeping an eye out for alerts that he’d need to send the league to handle. Honestly he was more concerned about working on a case he’d been struggling with for a while now. It wasn’t anything life or death, it was just frustrating and time consuming and in the words of Tim he wanted to ‘Yeet himself’.  

He was sitting there, minding his business, working, when Clark walked in, looking at his phone.

"Hey, uh. . . You been on Twitter today?"

"No? Why would I do that?"

Bruce hated going on Twitter and Clark knew that.

"You might want to log off things…." Clark said softly.

He was passing him a phone and Bruce took it with a sigh, pulling his gaze from the laptop he had been working on to the mobile device, which was showing a Twitter video. He scowled and clicked it.

It took him less than thirty seconds to realize what was happening, and he nearly threw Clark's phone at him.

"Bruce??"

"I'm taking the next week off-" was all Bruce said before he was angrily smashing buttons to log out of the servers and pack up his things.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Bruce didn't respond, just grabbed his things, yanked on his cowl, and stormed out, cape billowing out being him. 

"Bats!" Clark yelled.

Bruce rushed to get into the Batwing and head back home. There was a simple reason for his panic, and that video had been the cause.

For in the video, Cassandra Wayne could clearly be identified as she entranced an armed robber into laying down his weapon and sitting down on the floor. She could easily be identified as a siren using their powers.

And Bruce knew the whiplash that would come from this. He rushed home in a bit of a panic, and the moment he got into the cave, and parked the Batcar in it’s appropriate spot, he was jumping out, heading towards where he could see people standing around the break area part of the cave.

Dick was the first to spot him, and he easily slipped in front of a smaller figure that Bruce knew was Cassandra.

“Bruce, wait-” Dick said, holding a hand out towards him.

“Dick, please move,” Cassandra spoke softly from behind him. 

Dick hesitated, then sighed and stepped to the side. Cassandra was a good ten inches shorter than Bruce, but she puffed her chest out and looked up at him, face set, eyes determined.

“Are you okay?” Was Bruce’s first question, reaching up to pull off the cowl.

She nodded.

“You’re not injured at all?”

A headshake.

“What happened, Cassandra?”

She hesitated, then started signing.

‘Store with Duke. Attacker come, I need stop him.’

“Why did you use your powers?”

‘No other option. No get close.’

Bruce sighed and stepped in, pulling Cass to his chest in a hug. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he murmured softly. “Is Duke okay?”

She nodded, hugging him tightly back.

“We will handle this,” Bruce promised her, bending to kiss the top of her head.

Then he pulled back, turned and walked towards the locker room.

“Bruce, where are you going?"

"I'm going to fix this."

Bruce walked away, changing in silence, feeling his rage boiling underneath his skin, preparing for a fight. He was going to defend his daughter.

"Master Bruce, I think you should be wise with how you proceed."

"Alfred, I know how they're going to react. I know how they will treat her. There's a reason we agreed to keep this a secret, there's a reason we've hidden it this long."

Bruce turned to face Alfred, and he didn't miss how his guardian did a quick visual scan of Bruce for any visible injuries. Alfred scowled and crossed his arms.

"Would it not be worse to invoke the media-"

"No. They're going to make a big stink out of it anyway, I'm going to handle this early. They will be sending another DSMC officer, you know this as well as I do. I'm going to call Jordan and get ahead of it before they can send someone who doesn't know our family and will start digging through more than we want them to."

Alfred's eyebrow arched. "If that's what you deemed best." He sounded resigned, but didn't stop Bruce as he tugged on a t-shirt and marched upstairs.

He went to his office, Ace on his heels, and started digging around in his drawers, until he found the business card he had been given. Only once he had the phone number dialed in, did he hesitate. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. If he did this, he was sealing Cassandra's fate. 

One look at Twitter solidified his plan. People on Twitter were already raving against Cassandra, tagging her, tagging him, tagging the DSMC. There were already major news Twitter pages that had web articles on the situation. He closed Twitter and hit dial.

"Yello, Agent Jordan, how can I help you?" A voice answered after three rings.

"Jordan. This is Bruce Wayne."

There was a pause. "One second."

A longer pause, and Bruce paced over to the window, looking out and watching the gentle sway off the trees.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce could hear the click of a door following Hal's statement.

"Let's skip the formalities. I assume you know why I'm calling."

There was another pause, then- "are any of your children human, Mr. Wayne?"

"When they send an officer down, I want it to be you or someone you trust."

"I don't think you're in the place to be making that kind of request, Mr. Wayne."

"I think I can make any request I damn please. I don't have to allow you on my property, and I will not if my requests are not met."

Hal sighed, and Bruce could just see him rubbing his face.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. I'll make sure I'm given the case, okay?"

"Thank you. That is all-"

"Hey, wait. Bruce, off the record?"

When Bruce didn't respond, Hal continued.

"I'm glad she did what she did. That situation could have been much worse without someone around, and from what I hear it was already escalating. I don't think your family is one that we should be concerned about, but unfortunately I have to follow the law."

"I know, Jordan. . . And thank you. I'll be seeing you shortly, I expect."

"Yeah."

Bruce hung up and turned back to the computer, powering it down before walking back out, going to find his family.

They had congregated in the kitchen, bickering while Alfred made them a snack. Cassandra was smiling as her siblings joked, but she didn't seem to be truly relaxed. Jason wasn't home, and Damian was at Jon's for the evening. He was going to ask Dick if he wanted to leave.

"Guys," Bruce called softly, drawing their attention.

Cassandra's smile immediately dropped.

"Officer Jordan will be returning. Cass I'm sorry-"

“no sorry, it okay." she signed.

Bruce smiled sadly at his daughter, then he looked up at Dick.

"If you want to go to Wally's until this all clears over, that might not be a bad idea."

Dick nodded softly. "I might. He was getting awful close to the truth last time. Cass; would that be okay?"

Cass just nodded with a small smile.

"I'll call Wally then."

Dick started to walk out, squeezing Bruce's shoulder on his way out.

Bruce looked at Tim and Cass and felt this overwhelming protective instinct. The need to bundle them up and hide them away from the world. He loved his children and would do almost anything for them.

No. He would do anything for them.

"Here, Master Bruce."

Alfred passed him some cucumber sandwiches, and Bruce found himself eating them solely out of respect for Alfred. He didn't want to eat, he wanted to act. He wanted to be able to defend his family. Hell, he didn't even need to eat this, human food did nothing for him, after all.

The next day wasn't good. Damian came home in a fit, already angry bc of what was happening to his sister, Jason called to say he was staying with Roy and Kori for a bit, Dick left the next morning, and Cass retreated to her room. She had informed Bruce that she had deleted all of her social media apps for the time, and Tim had helped her change settings so she could only get texts from specific contacts. Bruce spent most of his time in the cave, since he had chosen not to go into work, and kept Damian and Tim home from school again.

He wasn't able to do anything about this and it was driving him insane.

It wasn't until Tuesday afternoon that Hal showed up.

Bruce was, luckily, in the lounge with Damian when he showed up, and Alfred showed him in. 

"Master Wayne. Agent Jordan is here."

Bruce looked up, turning to the doorway. Ace jumped up off the sofa and went running over, sniffing Hal's shoes.

"Ah, thank you, Afred."

"Of course. Master Damian, why don't you come help me with our dessert?"

"I suppose I could do that, Pennyworth."

Damian slid off the sofa, setting his sketchbook down, open on the coffee table, then turning to follow Alfred out. Bruce couldn't see it, but he didn't doubt Damian shot Hal a look of contempt, judging by his reaction to the teen passing him. Bruce closed his book and stood.

"Mr. Jordan."

"Mr. Wayne."

Hal was wearing dark jeans this time, and a green button down, his familiar bomber jacket on his shoulders.

"Well. . ." Hal looked around the room.

Bruce glanced down at Damian's sketchbook and smiled slightly to see a nearly perfect drawing of Krypto. He closed the book, then turned to Hal.

"Let's talk in my office."

Once there, Bruce closed the door behind Hal, and then walked over, sitting on the edge of his desk and turning to face him.

"Agent Jordan. You know very well I do not want you here, nor do I think you need to be here. I know my children, I've had Cassandra particularly for a few years now, and she's never once used her talents for anything manipulative, not even to prank her siblings. She's only ever used it to de-escalate situations, whether within my house, or out in public."

"Then why did you not inform the DSMC?" Hal asked, eyebrow raising.

"Because I think the DSMC is over reaching their legal rights by forcing us to register Siren's like they're some kind of pet. Have you not heard of innocent until proven guilty?"

"A nice sentiment, Mr. Wayne," Hal remarked, crossing his arms. "But the proportions of sirens who use their powers for evil and not beneficial things like you claim your daughter does is not good."

"What right do you have to monitor and register them? Are they not living beings with rights like us?" Bruce asked, straightening.

"We register them to protect innocent civilians who do not have any mythical lineage and cannot defend themselves from those who do. As I'm sure you're well aware, being registered by the DSMC gives them the rights of any ordinary human, whereas avoiding registration once you are known to be a siren, or other similarly dangerous types, makes it nearly impossible to do anything."

"I am aware, and it's that fact that I'm protesting. Being publicly outed as a Siren can absolutely destroy someone's life!"

"Lex Luthor doesn't seem to be doing so bad."

"Lex Luthor is not a good example and you know that!" Bruce snapped back.

He could see Hal was getting angry, and knew that poking the bear wasn't doing any good, but he wanted to speak his mind. Hal clenched his jaw, hands on his hips. He took a few steady breaths, letting the tension crackle in the air.

"Mr. Wayne. If you don't mind, I would like to talk to Ms. Wayne and hear her side of things," he said, voice clearly forcibly steadied.

"Fine, but I'll remind you, Cassandra does not talk, she uses ASL."

"Would one of her brothers be willing to translate for her?"

"I'll ask Tim, if he's here."

Bruce walked to the door, and stood there expectantly. He closed it once Hal exited.

"You can go wait in the dining room while I go get them."

Hal gave a tense nod and then strode off down the hall. Bruce watched him go to make sure he was headed the right way, and then headed upstairs, knocking on Cass's door and informing her of the situation before going to Tim's.

Tim begrudgingly agreed, and quickly cast a masking spell on himself before following Cassandra down to the dining room. And Bruce? Bruce forced himself to go to the living room and sit down and focus on his book. Or at least, attempt to focus on his book. It took all of his self control to not go and eavesdrop outside the door.

Eventually he got up and walked out of the house, heading out to the gardens, getting some tools from the shed, and beginning to weed the herb beds. When he was a kid, he used to hate working in the gardens. To be fair, it didn't help that Alfred often made him do it as a punishment for something, but Alfred was always there to help him, and as he got older, Bruce realized how valuable that time with Alfred had been. Now he and Alfred did the same for his kids, and he could only hope that one day they'd understand the purpose of it like he did.

It was good work, getting his hands in the soft dirt and tearing out the tiny weeds that threatened to choke out their herbs. Only half of these herbs were actually used for cooking, the majority were for Tim and his magic. When weeding, Bruce could let his brain roam, nothing needed his immediate attention past these green plants under his care. But right now, he couldn't stop thinking about how he would protect Cassandra. How would he protect Dick, eventually? How could he keep any of them safe from the public? He knew they could handle themselves, physically, but their whole private lives could be destroyed from this.

"Didn't see you as the gardening type."

Bruce startled. He hadn't heard Hal walking up, and was thoroughly shocked to turn around and see him standing at the end of the garden, hands in his pockets.

"Agent Jordan."

"I'm done with Cassandra. She's agreed to be registered with the DSMC."

Bruce nodded and looked away again. He couldn't make decisions for Cassandra, she was a legal adult. He aggressively dug his shovel into the ground, pulling out a dandelion, setting it to the side. Tim and Alfred fought over the roots a lot.

"This is a nice garden."

"Thank you. Alfred and Tim spend a lot of time on it."

"Really? Tim?"

"He uses a lot of the herbs for his spells and such, so he agreed to put work into maintaining the herb beds."

"Oooh," Hal walked closer, examining the different plants.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

"Mr. Wayne, I'd really love to not have to come back, so is there anything else you'd like to tell me?"

Bruce stood, dusting his hands off and turning to face Hal. He put his hands on his hips and examined the handsome man in front of him. He suspected, in another situation, he'd find himself flirting with Hal.

"Nothing that I deem to be any of your business."

Hal nodded, glancing away, around the flower beds.

"Listen, Mr. Wayne, about what you said in your office."

Bruce clenched his jaw, ready for a fight.

"I do agree that the DSMC oversteps their jurisdiction very frequently, and I'm sorry that mythics, and especially your daughter, get treated this way. They- she doesn't deserve this," he said, finally meeting Bruce's eyes. "And I'm trying to do something about it, but it's slow and painful work."

Bruce was surprised, and that showed on his face, if Hal's equally surprised look was an indication. He shifted his weight a little awkwardly.

"Uh- really?"

Hal nodded. "Of course, I've also been threatened with being fired because I'm sticking my nose in places it doesn't belong, but hey, what's my job in the light of dozens of oppressed species."

Bruce took a moment to reassess Hal. Maybe he wasn't just the dumb ex-airforce turned cop that Bruce had originally made him out to be. Maybe Hal could be useful.

"I'd shake your hand but-"

"Eh, I'll shake it anyway."

Bruce stuck out his mud covered hand to Hal, who stepped forwards to shake it.

"Thank you, Jordan, for taking Cass' case."

"It wasn't that hard, not many people wanted to take it after I told them about how big bad Papa Bear was ready to fight anyone else."

Bruce snorted, cracking a small smile.

"Not quite, but it was easier for us all to work with someone we've already met."

Hal nodded. "Understandable. Alright, I should get going, someone will be calling to get Ms. Wayne put in the system and all that."

Bruce nodded. "I'll walk you to the front."

They walked up towards the drive, side by side in silence, Bruce doing a little mental recalculation of Hal.

"Agent Jordan, if I could be of any help at all with the changes you're trying to make in the DSMC, please let me know. I know how much difference having someone with influence on your side can make."

Hal glanced over, looking startled.

"Yeah, sure! I mean, I guess I do have your number now," Hal said with a small grin.

"Oh bother."

Hal just laughed, producing a pair of sunglasses from his jacket, walking over to his motorcycle.

"Goodbye, Mr. Wayne, have a good day."

"You too, Agent Jordan."

Bruce watched Hal drive off, feeling vaguely happier then he had earlier. But now he needed to go clean up and go check on Cassandra.

Chapter Text

It was late in Gotham. Bruce could hear trains rumbling through the city, cars zipping along the roads. Sirens were blaring somewhere in the distance, and music was pumping out of a nightclub a few blocks away. 

But besides that it was still and quiet, and Bruce was at peace.

For the first time in a week, he felt truly at ease, perched on the edge of a florists shop, watching the street below him. A cat ran past into the alley, chased by a dog. He smiled slightly, knowing Damian would pitch a fit if he had seen that. Since Cass had been revealed to the public, life had been a blur, going from work, to the manor, to out as Batman. Every day a new crisis seemed to pop up in each situation and Bruce had been struggling to keep afloat.

But today, he had gotten to relax. He had spent the day at home, the kids had all been out with friends or with each other, and now he got to patrol on a nice quiet evening. Tim was with him, but he was on the other side of the roof. He was quiet tonight, tired from a busy day with his friends. Bruce had recommended that his protege stay home, but Tim had stubbornly refused. He was fiddling with a bit of glass he had picked up a little bit ago, and Bruce was reminded of why he had changed the material in Tim's gloves.

He turned from the street and looked over at his son fully. Maroon runes floated around him, popping like bubbles. Tim's uniform was a lot of red and black. He had never adopted the colorful scheme of Robin, preferring to stay dark to blend in with the shadows. He had spent years hopping between different code names before finally settling on Magpie, a nickname Jason and Dick had given him.

"Magpie," Bruce called, hopping off the ledge he was stood on.

"Yes, B?"

Tim turns to him, head tilted. 

"Let's race."

Bruce turned and jumped off the roof. He heard Magpie laugh behind him, and could only assume he was following. Bruce shot out a grapple and pulled himself up to the next roof, hearing Tim landing just seconds after him. Racing was just another training exercise, originally, but now it was more about spending time with his kids. Oftentimes they were faster than him anyway. They had learned how to beat him, how to use their size and individual skills to their advantage.

Like today, Tim cast a quick spell to bridge between two buildings that Bruce had to grapple between, easily capturing the lead, and it was no effort for him to keep it. They stopped when they reached the clocktower, Tim huffing and puffing, but grinning.

"I won!" He cheered, sticking his tongue out at Bruce.

Bruce laughed, reaching out and ruffling Tim's hair.

"Good Job, Magpie!"

Tim beamed at him, his face lighting up even more at the praise from his adoptive father.

As they caught their breath, Bruce turned to look down over the city, and Tim flicked through security feeds, looking for any crime they needed to stop.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you think about Officer Jordan?"

"Hal?"

"Yes."

Tim stayed quiet for a moment, then he sat on the edge of the roof, feet dangling off. 

"I dunno? He's nice I guess? Too nosey though, but that's probably because of his job."

Bruce nodded, he had also thought this.

"He seemed to be actually interested in Cass' safety when he talked to her, but when he talked with me he seemed . . . I don't know, uninterested almost."

Bruce hummed softly, watching Tim carefully to make sure he doesn't fall.

"Why do you ask? It's been like, a week since we saw him, and I thought you planned never to see him again."

"I have considered working with him," Bruce explained. "He says he's trying to change how the DSMC operates, and I offered to be a public figurehead, since I can't get fired, but he can."

Tim snorted. "I thought you hated him?"

"I don't hate him, Tim. We just... had a rough beginning."

"Yeaaah, surrreee B. Anyways, if you're done trying to validate your crush, Jason's calling us from across town."

"I don't have a crush!" Bruce protested, following Tim off the roof.

Tim's laugh echoed through the night, and it caused a soft smirk to form. Tim's laughs were sometimes rare, and every time Bruce got multiple in one night, he found his smile lingering all evening.

They met up with Jason on the other side of Gotham, where he was in the middle of a gang fight. Bruce wasn't even surprised to find his kid half covered in blood, Roy was by his side, his arrows practically whistling as he rapidly loosed them.

"Hey, Hood, Arsenal!" Tim called, swinging in and nailing a guy in the chest, flipping backwards.

"Hey, birdie."

"Hood, sit rep?" Bruce requested, covering Tim's back by yanking a man backwards by the shirt.

The vigilante didn't face him as he spoke, busy restraining a man quickly before moving to protect Roy as the man cast a spell quickly. 

"Gang war, we walked in the middle of an arms deal that was being sabotaged by the rival gang. Civilians were being caught in the crossfire so we intervened."

Bruce didn't respond, blocking off a heavily armed, very muscular man. He growled and lunged at Bruce. Bruce immediately engaged, his every strike landing while his opponent could barely get one in. Faintly he could hear Tim and Roy working together, chanting a spell. The fight went on for a bit before all the gang members and either fled or been incapacitated. Bruce looked around, seeing crates and crates of weapons.

"Hey, thanks for the assist, old man," Jason called as he walked over to Roy.

"You're welcome, Jason. Are you two coming by?"

"Naw, I'm gonna hang with him." Jason jerked his thumb at his ginger boyfriend.

"Cuteee," Tim mocked, walking over.

"Shut up! As if you didn't spend all day with your significant others."

"Yeah I did, at least I'm proud of it."

"Boys."

They both turned and blew raspberries at Bruce. Roy laughed.

"Come on babe, let's get this mess cleaned up. Bats, thanks for coming," the druid said, holding out a hand.

Bruce shook it. "Anytime, Arsenal."

Patrol only lasted until midnight, since it was a school night. They drove home, Tim's favorite playlist playing over the batcar speakers, Tim curled up in the passenger seat.

"How was your day with your friends?" Bruce asked him, looking over.

"It was good. It was really good to see everyone, Bart snorted milkshake out his nose, Kon and Cassie had a bench pressing contest, we went and got pizza and watched a movie. It was just nice."

"That's good. I'm sorry you had to wait so long before you could to see them."

"It's okay, B, I understand."

When they got home, Alfred was waiting with evening snacks for while they filed their reports on the evening. Bruce was still finishing his when Tim shuffled over, yawning.

"I'm gonna go to bed," the sixteen year old mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

"Good. Take a shower too," Bruce responded, reaching over without looking.

He found Tim's cheek, cupping it slightly before turning and kissing his son on the forehead. 

"Goodnight, Tim. I love you."

"Love you too, B," Tim mumbled, then walked away, towards the elevator, Alfred behind him.

Bruce waited until he was alone, glancing up to check around the cave. Then he tapped a few keys on the batcomputer to pull up the research he had been doing on the history of treatment of mythics. 

It was really quite interesting, how certain cultures had completely changed how mythics and supernaturals were treated. Mythics used to be regarded as beings sent from the gods. Then they were highly valued workers. And then slowly, as civilizations kept warring over territory, they became feared, as many became seen as weapons of war. And then finally, they started being more and more oppressed. 

Bruce had no idea how he was going to change this, but he certainly was going to try.

"Master Bruce, isn't it quite time for you to get to bed?"

"Huh?"

"It's nearly three am."

"Ah shit."

Bruce quickly saved and exited out of his documents, standing and turning to Alfred. The butler was standing a few feet away, Bruce's uniform in his hand.

"Right. Did the other kids get to bed?"

"Master Richard and Mistress Cassandra went to bed shortly after Tim, and Master Damian was in bed by ten pm, as always."

"That's good."

Alfred nodded. "Now you should get a little rest, you do have work tomorrow, and frankly, I would also like to rest."

Bruce nodded. "Of course, my apologies. I shouldn't make you stay up."

Sometimes he felt bad about how little sleep Alfred seemed to get. But it never seemed to bother the butler, and Bruce hardly noticed him acting tired. But still, Alfred needed rest, even though Bruce himself did not need to.

"Good night, Alfred."

"Good night, dear boy."

Bruce walked to the elevator, turning to glance back at Alfred as he stepped in. Alfred was carefully hanging his suit back in the case. Bruce smiled slightly. He really would be lost without Alfred. 

He headed upstairs to his bedroom, taking a quick shower before getting in bed and staring at the ceiling. Sleeping wasn't easy for him. His body didn't need it, and his mind didn't want it. There were so many things he could be working on.

He had been laying in bed for nearly thirty minutes when he heard the soft scuffing outside his door. He frowned and stood, walking over. He opened it and found Damian outside. The young boy was wearing a shirt that must have belonged to one of his brothers at some point, from how he was swimming in it, and sleep pants with hems he was practically standing on.

"Damian?" Bruce asked, blinking in the dark at him.

"Baba?" Damian sniffled.

He was so small. Bruce had no idea how he was so small, but here he was, still a child. And past that, he was scared. It was so painfully obvious.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked, crouching to look at Damian better.

"I-" he sniffled and wiped his nose on his wrist before puffing out his chest a bit. "Came to check that you made it home."

Bruce reached out to put a hand on Damian's shoulder.

"Did you have another nightmare?"

The barest nod was the answer. 

"Do you want to stay with me?"

A pause, and then another nod. Bruce stood and motioned for Damian to come in, then shut the door behind him. Damian went and stood at the edge of his bed, waiting for his father. Once Bruce was in bed, Damian got in, curling up into a ball.

"What was your dream about?"

". . . Grandfather."

Bruce hummed and leaned over, kissing Damian on the head.

"I'm here now, it's okay. Go to sleep, Damian."

"Good night, father."

"Good night."

After a bit, Bruce could hear Damian drift off to sleep, but he stayed awake, hoping his presence would be enough to keep Damian's nightmares away.

He might have gotten an hour of sleep, by the time his alarm went off at six. Damian popped up instantly, poking him until he too got up, grumbling and waving Damian away.

"Go get dressed," he mumbled, rubbing his face.

Damian exited his bedroom swiftly, probably to avoid being seen by his siblings. Even after two years, he still refused to be seen as vulnerable, no matter how much he had shown he understood he could be. Bruce just forced himself to get up and head to the bathroom. 

Twenty minutes later, he walked downstairs to help get the boys ready for school, looking as neat and put together as a businessman who spends his nights running around in spandex and Kevlar can look. Damian was sat across from Tim at the dining room table. Damian was sipping on the new blood substitute of the week, looking surprisingly content, while Tim was more focused on his phone then he was in his pancakes.

"Good morning Tim, good morning Damian."

"Morning Baba."

"Morning, B."

Alfred walked out, carrying a plate of pancakes for himself, and a large cup for Bruce.

"Good morning, Master Bruce."

"Morning. Thank you, Alfred."

Alfred hummed softly, going to sit in his usual spot, Bruce sat at the end of the table, between the boys. Breakfast was quiet and peaceful, for once, and Bruce basked in the silence.

While Alfred drove Tim and Damian to school, Bruce was in charge of making sure the other two got up. Dick had class at ten, while Cassandra was at home, finishing up her curriculum for the year. Cass was already awake, and waved to say good morning. Bruce smiled and waved back before moving down the hall, over to Dick's door, knocking on it.

"Dick! Time to get up!"

"Noooo," a groan came from the other side of the wall. Bruce chuckled.

"Come on, you have class later today."

"Noo."

It took some coaxing, but Dick was finally pulled from his bed, and finally dragged himself downstairs for breakfast. Bruce cleaned up the breakfast dishes, and by the time he was done with that, Alfred was back home.

"Damian had more nightmares last night," Bruce said, standing in the doorway of the laundry room.

"About Ra's?"

"Yeah."

Alfred hummed softly. "Have you looked into how to help that?"

"The only thing I can think of is a magical tie that we would need to break."

"That had been my suspicion as well."

"I might talk to Barbara next time she's here."

“That sounds like a wise idea. Now shouldn’t you be getting to work?”

“Right. Bye, Alfred.”

“Goodbye, Bruce!”

Bruce turned and walked out, grabbing his work bag and keys and walking out to find his car.

When he got home that night, it was to the sound of yelling. And he wasn’t surprised.

He found the kids in the family room, fighting as they played video games. Tim’s foot was in Dick’s face, trying to push him aside, and Cass and Damian were sitting on Jason’s stomach and legs. Damian wasn’t even playing, but he had his hands on Jason’s face, trying to blind him to keep from winning. Bruce didn’t speak for a moment, just watched them through the race. Tim ended up winning, the most determined and the one with the least interference. 

“I didn’t know we were playing sabotage Mario Kart today.”

They all looked up at Bruce, looking startled. 

“Bruce!” Tim exclaimed. “I’m winning!”

“He’s cheating is what he’s doing!” Dick argued, practically pouncing on Tim and starting to tickle him. Tim screeched in protest.

Bruce looked over at Cassandra, who grinned, setting her controller down to sign to him.

“Dick wanted play like this.”

“And then started whining when he started losing!” 

“Of course he did.”

“Hey!” Dick protested.

“Guys, the next race is gonna start!"

Everyone immediately went quiet and stopped shoving each other, each one sitting up straight - with the exception of Jason who was still being sat on - so they could focus. Bruce chuckled and watched as the silence that came over them was immediately destroyed the second the race started. Tim shouted as his bike spun out and threw himself sideways, smacking into Dick.

Bruce just laughed and walked away, up to his room to change out of his work clothes. Then he went to find Alfred. He was in the kitchen, as was usual for this time of night, stood in front of the stove.

"Welcome home, Bruce."

"Thank you. What are you cooking?"

"Chicken stir fry."

"Hmm, I'm sure they'll love it."

"Indeed. Damian seems to be doing well on that new substitute?"

Bruce nodded, glancing to the box on the floor, a new shipment of the supplement.

"Yeah he is, which I'm quite glad about. I was getting worried about him."

"Me too," Alfred hummed. "I was worried he'd develop further issues."

"Let's hope this one sticks."

After dinner, Bruce ended up helping Damian with homework. He still struggled with English, and while he had learned it growing up, it hadn't been used as frequently as some of his other languages, and grammar rules seemed to still elude him. Then once Damian had moved onto a subject he could do by himself, Bruce headed down and spent a few hours training with Jason.

"I'm going to Star next weekend," Jason told him, ducking under Bruce's half hearted punch.

Batman rarely pulled his punches, but Bruce Wayne always did.

"Oh? Visiting Roy?"

"Lian, actually. It's her birthday next week."

"Oh!" Bruce stepped back, looking at him.

Jason raised an eyebrow. "What, old man?"

"How old is she going to be?"

"Seven."

"I'll have to send you with a present from me."

Jason scoffed and lunged forwards. "You and Oli still locked in a battle for the best grandpa?"

"We will be for as long as you and Roy are together, and probably even longer."

Jason laughed, shaking his head as they continued sparing. Eventually, Bruce got Jason tripped up and pounced on him, pinning him to the mat. Eventually Jason gave up, smacking the mat a few times until Bruce let him up.

"Good job," Bruce praised.

"Yeah, I'll deserve that when I've beat you."

Bruce watched Jason walk away, chuckling to himself. Then he turned to suit up for another evening of patrols. He was ready to get out and protect his city, just like how he protected his family.

Chapter Text

A few more months passed uneventfully. Bruce and Hal stayed in contact, working together, slowly going through DSMC laws. There were so many loopholes and laws they were breaking, but they had to have a solid case before Bruce would feel comfortable pressing this publicly. And they definitely didn't have a solid case yet.

So they kept working together. And the more they worked together, they started getting friendlier. At some point, they dropped the formal titles, just referring to each other by first names. They even texted now. 

Bruce was discovering a lot about Hal. He was a lot nicer than Bruce had originally thought, and very smart. He was also genuinely funny when he wasn't being a jerk, and he consistently inquired about the kids. Not in a way to dig after information to report to DSMC, but just to genuinely ask.

He was also discovering that he was starting to enjoy Hal's company. And his children wouldn't stop mocking him for it.

Saturday, Hal came down for the afternoon. They spent the day in Bruce's office, pouring over files of research. They were actually starting to get to a point that Bruce was almost ready to give their research to Lois, who had agreed to run the story.

"The department is going bonkers," Hal said casually, after Alfred had brought them afternoon tea.

"Oh?" Bruce asked softly, glancing up from what he was reading.

"Something bout a case of a vampire killing people?"

Bruce stiffened slightly, looking up to find Hal staring into his cup.

He was wearing jeans and a cream sweater, his jacket left at the front door when he came in. Bruce let his eyes linger on his face, the soft lines of his cheeks contrasting against the angle of his jaw. His green eyes flickered up and met Bruce's.

"I dunno, the whole thing seems fishy," he said with a shrug, reaching forwards and setting his mug down on the desk.

"What do you mean?"

"well, they say the vampire killed them, but from what I've seen, the death wasn't blood loss? It was strangulation, which doesn't mean it wasn't the vampire, but at the same time, I think they might be jumping to conclusions."

"What makes them think it was a vampire?"

"The victim had injuries typical of a vampire attack, including bite marks."

Bruce was getting more and more uncomfortable. This case was sounding far too similar to what he stumbled into last night.

"Where was this?"

"Warehouse on the edge of town."

"Interesting. I haven't heard of it yet," Bruce lied, looking back down.

He had. Because he had walked into that warehouse and found Jason and Tim crouched over the victim. He knew far more about the case than the police, because he knew who had done it. But he couldn't tell anyone how he knew, so he kept his mouth shut.

"Hey did you read this?"

Hal passed a news report from the seventies across the desk.

"Oh I think I reme-"

Bruce stopped as someone knocked.

"What?"

The door opened as Damian walked in. 

"Father. Kent is here."

"Oh, okay, have fun. Don't stay up too late." Bruce looked at the figure behind Damian. "Hello, Jon, how are your parents?"

"They're good, Mr. Wayne!" An airy, but cheerful voice responded.

Hal startled slightly as Jon came into view. Or, rather, as much as he could, being slightly transparent. The ghostly boy waved, then saw Hal. His eyes grew as big as quarters.

"I-"

"Tt, it's fine, Kent. Jordan is well aware of the supernatural aspects of this family."

"Oh."

"I-" Hal glanced between Bruce and Damian rapidly.

"Go have fun, boys," Bruce said, shooing them. 

Damian turned on his heel, Jon said goodbye before quickly following, half floating, half walking.

"I'm sorry, is he a ghost?"

Bruce nodded, standing and walking over to close the door. He turned back to Hal, taking in his confusion.

"Jon had an unfortunate accident as a boy. His spirit latched onto his parents, and when Damian first met them, he was able to make Jon visible."

"Damian's a necromancer?"

"In training. Talia, his mother, taught him some things before he came here."

Hal just stared at him, completely confused.

"Jon is partially bonded to Damian since he is the one that summoned him, so some days he's here, some days he's with his parents."

"Wait, Kent.... Is that the reporters kid?! The one that went missing?"

Bruce nodded, feeling a pang of sadness as he knew the truth. Jon had really been killed by a machine from Krypton called the Eradicator. The Eradicator had been trying to rebuild Krypton, and had wanted to use Jon's DNA for that, but since he's half human, in its attempt to "purge" the human side, it had actually killed Jon.

Bruce still remembered Clark's fallout. He could never forget it. It had been, frankly, nearly disastrous. And yet, Bruce couldn't blame him. God knows what he'd do if that happened to any of his kids and he’d had that much power.

"Damn," Hal hissed out, glancing towards the window. "I can't imagine-"

Bruce shook his head. "You don't want to."

Hal watched him as he walked back to his chair.

"Have you ever...?" Hal trailed off.

Bruce looked at him, catching the sad, sympathetic gaze.

"Lost a child?"

Hal nodded.

Bruce sighed, looking down at his coffee.

"Yeah."

There was the creak of a chair, and Hal's hand landed on top of Bruce's, which was still curled around his coffee.

"I'm sorry, Bruce."

Bruce swallowed, just looking down at Hal's hand. He still remembered the panic as he found Jason, bloody and on the verge of death, the anxious days, waiting to see if the vampirism took. He squeezed his eyes shut as he remembered Lonnie, finding him torn to shreds by a demon, frail bodies of those he had been trying to protect strewn about. He took a soft, shuddering breath and turned his hand over, squeezing Hal's once before pulling it back.

"It was years ago," he said, shaking his head and looking up.

Hal looked sad. But he offered the smallest of smiles.

Bruce looked down at their papers, trying to focus on his work again.

They kept working, compiling all their best evidence, until suddenly there was a knocking at the door.

"Master Bruce, if you wouldn't mind joining us for dinner?"

Bruce looked from Alfred, over to the clock on his desk. Six fifteen.

"Ah shit, sorry Alfred, we'll be right there."

Alfred hummed, glancing between Bruce and Hal. Then he nodded and walked away.

Bruce and Hal finished up quickly. Bruce made sure they grabbed their empty cups before heading out, leading Hal to the dining room. He could hear his family talking, and could immediately tell they had multiple guests, other than just Jon and Hal.

Sure enough, when they walked in, there were seven people sitting at his table instead of the usual five. 

Dick was out for the week, and sitting in his place was Roy Harper, vines in the druid's hair, like usual. He was leaning over, whispering in Jason's ear, grinning mischievously at Tim, who was across the table. Sitting next to Cassandra was Stephanie Brown, the two of them looking at their phones. Jon was floating idly beside Damian, staring at the wall. Bruce always wondered what the boy was seeing that they couldn't.

Hal looked around the table, then at Bruce.

"Full house today, huh?"

Bruce just smiled fondly, looking over at the ex-pilot. "Weekends are always quite noisy."

"Where's Dick?" Hal motioned towards the seat now occupied by Roy.

"He's in Central City for the week, visiting his boyfriend."

Hal's eyebrows went up slightly. "So not only is no one in this family human, but none of you are straight either?"

He was grinning as he said this. Bruce knew him well enough by now to know he was trying to joke.

"Well, they come by it honestly."

He walked away from Hal, going to sit down at his spot. He missed Hal's reaction to his statement, but had he seen it, he probably would have laughed at Hal's surprised look.

"Everyone," Bruce called, attempting to get their attention.

It took a moment, but the table quieted and looked up at Bruce.

"For those of you who don't know, this is Hal Jordan. Hal that's Roy Harper, Stephanie Brown, and you met Jon earlier."

"Nice to meet everyone." Hal waved to them.

Stephanie and Roy exchanged a glance but returned the pleasantries with Hal. Bruce just crossed his fingers and hoped to the stars that they would behave. Roy Harper was a good man, but unpredictable. 

"Roy. I didn't know you were coming down for the weekend?" Bruce greeted as he sat, looking at his son's boyfriend.

"Yeah, neither did I. But then Jaybird gave me a panicked phone call last night so I flew up. Perks of having a rich adoptive father, huh?" Roy said with a grin, elbowing Jason.

Jason snorted. The two of them fit well together, despite original suspicions. Roy had originally been one of Dick's closest friends, but through various events, Roy and Dick had a falling out, and at the same time, Roy and Jason started getting even closer. Roy had fairly long red hair, and was littered in runes and markings. He had never tried to hide his magic, and that was good, because it seemed he actually couldn't. Somehow, some aspect of his abilities leaked out in one way or another, whether that was through the vines and plants that made themselves at home in his hair, or through the runes that swirled around his skin. There was no mistaking Roy Harper as a druid.

Currently, Roy and Jason were matching rather well. Not only were they wearing similar clothes - which indicated that Roy probably stole from Jason's closet - but they both had bruises and cuts from a fight they had gotten into last night. Bruce wondered faintly what they had gotten up to. Past the physical, they matched each other in personality surprisingly well, and where they weren't similar, they contrasted and complemented each other perfectly. 

"I'm glad he has you," Bruce said with a smile. "How's Lian?"

"Oh she's great. She misses you guys. We're still planning to come visit on fall break."

"I'm glad! It will be good to see her!"

"Yeah, you have to catch up with Oli."

Bruce narrowed his eyes. Jason snorted, a grin spreading on his face. 

"What did he do?"

"Bought her a whole new collection of books."

"Goddamnit!"

This caused both Jason and Roy to start laughing. Bruce just grumbled under his breath and glanced over, catching Hal watching him with an amused smile. 

"How long have you two been together?" Hal inquired, pulling his gaze off of Bruce, over to the couple.

"Oh, a couple years now?"

Jason nodded and hummed, looking at Bruce, then glancing just slightly at Hal. Bruce shrugged. 

"And are you a mage then?"

"Yes sir. What gave it away?"

"Oh I'm just fairly skilled in recognizing the signs. That and the runes."

Roy sighed softly and shrugged. "They never go away."

"You need to strengthen your masking spell."

"Tim, I've been at this for longer than you, I think I know how to do a masking spell."

"And yet you have flowers growing in your hair."

Roy and Tim glared at each other from across the table. Bruce just chuckled, and looked up as Alfred pushed the door from the kitchen open.

"A chicken lasagna, for the living," Alfred announced, setting a casserole pan down.

"Thank you, Alfred."

A few minutes later, Alfred returned with drinks for everyone, including Bruce and Damian's meals. Jason would smuggle some later, if he hadn't already. Through dinner, Bruce listened to others chat. He listened to Jon and Tim talk about the farm and Kon, and Jason and Steph talk about everything from living in the slums to the latest internet meme. Hal ate silently, observing the others at the table, and Bruce was a little worried by this. Hal was perceptive. Sometimes a little too perceptive. 

At least Dick was gone, so he was only trying to protect Jason at the moment.

Especially since Hal knew about the case. 

"Soo," Roy started.

Bruce immediately knew this was going to go bad.

"Have you two been together long?" he asked, parroting Hal's question, coupled with a shit eating grin.

"Harper you know damn well we're not together," Bruce responded before Hal could even consider it.

"Did I know that?" Roy looked at Jason, who just grinned and shrugged.

"Hey, babe, they're not dating."

"Oh wild."

Jason sniggered. Hal's cheeks were going a bit red.

"We're not dating, we're just working together to point out some illegal parts of the DSMC," Hal explained, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Oh damn. And here I was, thinking Bruce finally had a boyfriend."

"Roy."

"No offense, old man, but even the kid has a better love life then you do, and his best friend is a ghost."

"Roy," Bruce sighed, exasperated. 

Roy just grinned. "Yes, Bruce?"

Bruce rolled his eyes and glanced over at Hal. 

"And you thought my actual kids were bad."

"Your actual kids are just about as bad, Bruce."

Bruce narrowed his eyes, and this caused a chuckle from Hal. He grinned and looked back down at his plate, but Bruce kept watching his face from profile for a moment.

A handsome man, that was for sure.

After dinner, Bruce walked Hal to the front door, waiting as he put on his shoes and grabbed his coat.

"It was good to see you and work with you."

Bruce stuck out his hand. Hal looked at it for a moment, then glanced around. Then he shrugged and stepped in, hugging Bruce lightly.

"I'll see you soon, Bruce."

"Bye, Harold," Bruce responded, voice soft with surprise.

His manners escaped him due to his shock, and he didn’t open the door for Hal, just stared after him as he slipped back out. He stared at the door for a few seconds, and then turned and walked down to the cave. Jason and Roy looked over at him from where they were suiting up. 

“So what happened to you two?” Bruce asked, walking to the case that held his suit.

“Got into a gang fight last night,” Jason explained with a one shouldered shrug. 

“Ah, is that why?” Bruce nodded at Roy. 

“Yeah, I needed to get some magical back-up. Barbara wasn’t available and Tim wasn’t powerful enough.”

Bruce nodded in acceptance and then turned, leaving to change. He wouldn’t admit he was distracted that night on patrols, but he certainly wasn’t as focused as he usually was. But that’s okay, he had Tim with him to help keep an eye on things. So what if he was a little preoccupied, mind split between the case he and Magpie were working, as well as the case with Hal. 

He met Hal and Lois Wednesday night at Wayne Enterprises, and they stayed there for a few hours, just going over everything. Lois left around eight, saying she was already going to be getting home late, but on their way out to the parking lot, Hal turned to Bruce.

“Do you wanna go get a bite to eat?” he asked, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. Hal looked confused, and then he ducked his head, looking sheepish.

“Okay so a dumb question but-”

“Yeah, lets go.”

“Did you drive?”

“No, Alfred dropped me off this morning. I can call an Uber?” Bruce started reaching for his phone.

“Or, if you want, we can take my bike.”

“Your bike?”

“My motorcycle.”

“Ah.” Bruce turned to look for it, Hal pointed it out.

Was that a safe idea? It wasn’t like Bruce could be physically hurt by a motorcycle, but that wasn’t exactly the issue here. The issue was riding double with Hal Jordan. He hesitated a moment then shrugged. 

“Sure.”

Bruce didn’t miss the grin that stretched over Hal’s face. He turned and walked away, digging around in his pocket. He threw a leg over the body of the motorcycle, before inserting the key and starting it up. The main body of the motorcycle was black, but the shocks and some of the pipes were gold, and the frame, which was mostly visible, was red. It was a sleak, attractive looking bike, and frankly Bruce was fairly impressed by it. Hal revved it, grinning up at him, and the deep throaty growl from the engine thundered in his ears.

“You want a helmet?” Hal asked, holding his up. Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“One of the two of us is mortal, and it’s not me. Keep your brain bucket,” he said with a smirk, pushing it back to Hal. “I’d like it more if you kept your skull in one piece.”

“Aww, he does care.” Hal’s grin was surprisingly endearing, and not annoying, like it usually was.

He pulled on the sport esq helmet, and scooted forwards on the bike. Then he looked expectantly up at Bruce. The second seat wasn’t terribly big, and it sloped down towards the driver a bit, which meant Bruce would have no choice but to be pressed up against Hal. He sighed, resigning himself to his fate and swung on. He had certainly ridden on far more uncomfortable bikes in his time as Batman. 

“Hold on, rich boy.”

Bruce grabbed onto Hal’s waist, and the man didn’t hesitate to rev up the engine a few times and then shoot away without any warning. Bruce grunted and squeezed a little harder as he slid forwards into Hal. He could hear Hal laugh a bit.

It took a moment, but Bruce ended up leaning into Hal's back, arms fully around his waist, moving with him smoothly as they went around turns or shifted between lanes. Hal took them to a diner across town, so the ride, while long, wasn’t particularly fast. They parked nearly a block down from the diner and started walking, side by side.

And then someone slammed into Hal, who stumbled and fell into Bruce. Bruce grabbed Hal by the hips - again - to keep them both from toppling over, and looked up, ready to defend them both. 

Except suddenly he became painfully aware that he recognized who the man in front of him was.

“Jay!” Bruce exclaimed.

“B!?” Jason nearly yelped, looking between the two.

Bruce glanced behind Jason to see Roy, braced against an alley wall, looking pale, blood staining his hand.

“Ah seven devils!” he exclaimed, looking between Hal and Jason, trying to make a quick decision. 

Jason also looked a bit pale, and he had red staining around his mouth. One desperate, pleading look from his son was all it took for him to abandon Hal and go running to Roy, grabbing him and pulling him back into the Alley.

“Bruce,” Roy gasped out, grabbing his wrists. 

“It’s okay, Roy. You’ll be okay, just focus on me,” Bruce instructed, having him sit on a crate that was outside the back door of a bar. 

“Bruce what the hell is happening?” Hal exclaimed, looking alarmed from where he stood near the entrance of the alley.

Bruce didn’t answer, easily ripping Roy’s shirt to get a better look at the wound. The smell of blood was so pungent and it was making Bruce’s head swim.

“Jason - oh fuck.” Bruce shook his head to clear it. “Jason, call Barbara.”

“But-”

“Call her!”

Jason ducked away, fumbling for his phone. 

“Roy, talk to me,” Bruce instructed, pressing his hands to Roy’s stomach. 

“God, we were.” Roy stopped to groan in pain. “We were chasing that lead, and some fucker just jumped out of nowhere and fucking shanked me.”

“Where is he now?” 

“Dunno, I collapsed and I saw Jay do something and then he was gone.”

“Fuck , he didn’t-?”

Roy shrugged vaguely. “No idea.”

Bruce finally glanced up at Hal, who was staring at him in shock and confusion. Bruce just sighed. He couldn’t focus on Hal right now, he needed to worry about Roy.

“She’s on her way!” 

Bruce looked up as Jason came jogging back, dropping to his knees beside Roy. Jason grabbed Roy’s hand tightly, eyes flickering over his stomach. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, baby, I should have been keeping a better eye out,” he muttered. 

“It’s fine, Jay, I’ve taken worse.”

“Jason.” Bruce waited for his son to look up before he continued. “Is it safe for you to be here right now?”

“What?” Jason looked offended. “Where else should I be?!”

“We both know what I mean, Jason.”

Bruce could still see his sharp fangs, either yet to retract from biting someone else, or because his instincts were telling him to bite Roy. Magical blood like Roy’s and vampires didn’t mix well. Bruce had learned that the hard way. Jason glanced down at Roy’s stomach, then up at Bruce.

“I’m sorry,” Jason whispered, and kissed Roy’s forehead before pulling away and backing up.

“Is it safe for you to be here right now?” Roy asked with a faint chuckle, then he groaned in pain. “You could let your boyfriend over there do this.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, and I’m fine, Harper.”

“Are you sure he’s not-”

“How’s your pain?”

“I imagine it’s somewhere near the pain of being shanked, not that you would know.”

“Bruce what the fuck is going on!?”

Bruce looked up at the officer again, and this time he looked really alarmed.

“Hal, take some deep breaths,” Bruce said gently. “You need to keep calm, everything will be okay.”

“Uh?! There’s a man bleeding and you’re just acting like this is a normal tuesday!”

Roy snorted but didn’t say anything.

“Bruce, she’s here!”

Bruce looked past Hal as he heard a familiar noise. Barbara came wheeling around the corner, pushing her wheelchair as fast as she could.

“Move, Jordan,” she snapped, and Hal barely jumped out of the way before he got his ankles taken out. 

Bruce moved out of the way as Barbara came over, opening the bag that had been sat in her lap.

“Hey, babs,” Roy groaned, grinning at her.

“Hey, dumbass. What’d you do to yourself?”

“Got shanked.”

“Oh so a normal tuesday?”

“Yep.”

Now that Roy was getting proper attention, Bruce stood and stepped back. He glanced down at the blood on his hands and only sighed at how he wasn’t even bothered by that sight anymore. It was so normal for him, that he just blinked and moved on with life. He wiped his hands on his pants, knowing Alfred would kill him later, but he had other things to worry about right now. Like Hal, who looked closed to freaking out.

“Hal, come here, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay! How the fuck are you so calm!”

“Because Gotham is just like this,” Bruce assured, grabbing Hal’s elbow and leading him away. “Roy’s in good hands now.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you call an ambulance!”

“Barbara is faster and better.”

“Yeah but-”

“Hal.” Bruce grabbed him by the shoulders. “Calm down. Take deep breaths, focus on my voice. You are okay. Roy is okay. He’s taken much worse before. He will be okay. Do you understand?”

Hal sucked in a deep breath, then let it out in a hiss. “Okay. Okay. Wait what do you mean he’s taken worse?!”

“That’s a conversation for another time. I need to call Alfred, will you be okay?”

Hal hesitated, glancing over at Jason, then at Bruce. Then he nodded.

“Okay. Don’t run off on me.”

Another nod.

Bruce stepped away, pulling out his phone and turning to face the wall. He dialed Alfred quickly, and the man picked up after the second ring.

“Hey, I need you to come pick me up. Roy’s injured. Bring the car, I don’t know how many of us will be driving back with you.”

“Of course, I’ll be there right away. Is he okay?”

“Yeah, He will be, Barbara is working on him currently.”

“I’m leaving now.”

“Thanks, we’re down on sixth and Williams.”

“Alright. Stay safe.”

“You too.”

Bruce hung up and turned back to find Jason and Hal leaning together. He could hear them talking softly. He made eye contact with Jason, who looked a lot calmer, and then turned, walking over to Barbara and Roy, a soft light glowing around them.

“How’s it going?”

“It fuckin hurts.”

“Oh stop whining you big baby. Do you want to bleed out or not?”

Roy just groaned as purple light glowed from his stomach in a line. 

“He’ll be all stitched up in a minute, Bruce. It’s good I got to him when I did. He could have died of chronic dumbass.”

“Shut up why are you so mean to me!” Roy complained.

Bruce just laughed and turned, walking back over to Jason and Hal.

“He’s going to be fine, Jay-lad.” 

Bruce squeezed his shoulder. Jason heaved a sigh and let his head thunk back against the wall.

“Thank fuck. Now at least I can kill him.”

Bruce just chuckled and reached up to ruffle Jason’s hair like he did when he was smaller. Jason sighed and shook his head.

"Thank you, Bruce."

"Yeah. I'm glad we ran into each other."

Hal had been quiet until now, but he finally pushed off the wall and grabbed Bruce's elbow, pulling him away from Jason. Jason just sent Bruce an amused look and then walked over to Roy.

"You need to tell me what the hell is going on."

Bruce sighed, pulling his arm away, turning to Hal. 

"I'll answer what I can."

"Jason's a vampire?"

"Yes."

"God dammit , Bruce!"

Hal looked annoyed. Maybe a little upset, or even hurt? Why would he be hurt? What reason would he have to be hurt?

“What?” Bruce asked, spreading his hands. 

They both looked at them and looked at the blood on them. Hal looked back towards Jason. 

“Bruce. I-” Hal closed his eyes. “I’m sorry but this-”

“Hal please,” Bruce implored, grabbing his hands, intertwining their fingers. “Please, you can’t tell anyone.”

“It’s my job, I’m legally required.”

“Please . Jason doesn’t want anyone to know. Our family knows, Roy’s family knows. He doesn’t want it to be public. I don’t want it to be public.”

Hal stared at him, and he looked sad. He looked sad, and Bruce knew what he was going to do. He knew, and something in him cracked. He sighed, and let go of Hal’s hands, stepping back.

"I see.”

“Bruce, wait-”

“Hal, I think you should go now,” Bruce murmured, turning away, starting to walk back to his son.

“I’m sorry .”

“Hal, just go .” 

Hal had lunged forwards, grabbing Bruce’s hand, trying to pull him back. Bruce had just yanked his arm away, spinning back around.

“But-”

“No! Hal, I’m sorry, but my family will always be the most important thing to me!” Bruce practically shouted. “I don’t give a shit about anything happening between us, if you’re going to hurt my family, then. . . “

He shook his head, stepping back. Something in him was sad, but he was also angry.

“Just go, Hal. I need to take care of my son and Roy.”

Hal’s posture crumpled for a moment, then he straightened his back and held his head up high. 

“Goodbye, Bruce. It was a pleasure working with you.”

Bruce watched him walk away, strides fast, posture upright and determined. He walked around the corner of the alley, and a few seconds later, Bruce heard his motorcycle revving up. Bruce took a deep breath, shoving down the choking emotions threatening to build up in his throat and stomach. Then he turned back to the others. All three were staring at him, eyes wide. 

“Let’s go home,” Bruce grumbled, feeling more numb than he had in a while.

Chapter Text

It had been weeks, and  Roy had recovered wonderfully. He and Lian had still come down for fall break, and Bruce had an absolutely wonderful time with the girl that was practically his grandchild. 

Things seemed to be smoothing out for his family. Cass was slowly reintegrating into society, and while people were still wary of her, they didn’t seem to fear her. They almost seemed to recognize that would help people, not harm them. Damian and Tim were doing well in school and with their friends. Duke, who had been staying with them more and more, was coping well with his current foster parents and with his highschool classes (Bruce was paying for him to go to Gotham Academy). Dick and Wally were now engaged, which was interesting, because Wally was spending hours researching if that would even work, a cleric and an incubus being legally and magically married. And then there was Jason.

It had been almost a month since Bruce and Hal’s . . . fight, or whatever you wanted to call that. And yet no one from the DSMC had contacted them. Not about Jason anyway. Bruce had a lot of contact, due to the articles that Lois had been releasing. But it seemed that, potentially, in the end, Hal hadn’t revealed Jason’s secret. And Bruce hated the relief that caused him. 

He refused to examine how he reacted, how the situation had emotionally affected him. That wasn’t something he wanted to deal with. Those were emotions he didn’t want, so if he just ignored them, then they weren’t real. Obviously.

He had seen Hal once since then. Just once. Lois needed to talk to them both, so they had all met up at a nice restaurant, and things between them had been tense. Hal had basically refused to make eye contact with Bruce. It had been awkward and Bruce had come home feeling hollow. Lois had immediately called him out on it, but Bruce had just smiled shallowly and then left. 

He was dumb and he would get over it, that’s all.

Today, Wally and Dick were actually in Gotham together for once. They bounced around a lot, from Bludhaven, to Central City, and on the rare occasion, here in Gotham. But they spent a lot of time in Central City, due to Wally’s kids, Jai and Irey. Their mother was still in Central City and Wally didn’t want to move them that far away from everyone else in their lives. So they hopped around, and that was the main reason it had taken them so long to agree to marry.

Bruce liked Wally. It had taken him some time to warm up to the cleric. The two had become friends back when Dick was Robin. They had been on several different teen hero teams over the years, but it had still taken Dick nearly four years to reveal his true identity to his best friend, and even then, it was against Bruce’s advice. But it had worked out for the best, and the two had been best friends for over fifteen years now, and had been dating for two years. Despite previous suspicions, Wally clearly loved Dick. He had sacrificed himself for Dick countless times, only scraping through on wits and his bond with his deity. Which frankly, Bruce still knew very little about. Barry refused to tell him, and none of the other speedsters would either.

But that wasn’t any of his business. 

Currently, they were in the Batcave. Bruce was listening to Damian and Dick spar, while Tim and Wally bickered over spells. It was loud and chaotic and there was some Top 40’s hits station playing over the speakers and Bruce could barely focus. But it was nice. It was good to have the noise. He hated the days he was alone, even if he acted otherwise.

“Good evening master Bruce, any cases to work on tonight?”

Bruce glanced up at Alfred, who walked up beside the batcomputer with a cup of coffee. He offered a soft smile while reaching out and taking it.

“Not yet. Quiet so far. GPD hasn’t called anything in as of yet, none of my sensors have pinged, so we’ll plan to go out on patrols at normal time,” Bruce explained.

Alfred nodded, then turned and walked away, heading toward where Wally and Tim were, with two more mugs on a tray. Bruce sipped his coffee and then stood, making his way to Damian and Dick. 

It was interesting watching how all the kids fought, and how they adapted their individual abilities for sparing. Dick had a much larger physical advantage over Damian, as well as the advantage of being more familiar with his powers due to his age. Damian, just beginning to develop some of the more useful powers that comes with vampirism, was at a disadvantage in that regard, but shouldn’t be underestimated, due to his years of training in combat, as well as his aptitude for magic.

They had been at it for a while, but neither seemed worn out, easily dodging each others blows, though neither were really fighting to do real damage. Bruce watched Damian lunge with the baton in one hand, and Dick easily slide out of the way, twisting in ways humans couldn’t as he grabbed Damian and flipped him over to land on the mat with a thump. Damian rolled to the side, easily jumping up again and twisting to kick at Dick.

They were lightly bickering the whole time, and Bruce was glad neither had seen him, or else they’d undoubtedly start mocking him for the small smile that was fixed on his lips. It was good to see Damian getting along with the others, and it was nice to have Dick back in his house again.

He turned away, walking past where Wally and Tim were surrounded by textbooks and coffee stained notebooks, herbs and candles and mixing bowls scattered and spilled around them.

“Make sure to clean up when you’re done,” he called, heading back to the batcomputer.

“Yeah yeah, of course we will, old man,” Tim shot back, chuckling.

Bruce smiled again, sitting at the desk, and pulling up a case he had been helping Clark with.

That weekend, he was out with Damian at the local farmers market, when he looked up and froze.

“Father?”

Bruce just stood there, staring.

Across the way, looking at some pumpkins, bundled up against the chill that had overtaken Gotham’s fall, was Hal Jordan. His hair was shaggier then the last time Bruce had seen him. But otherwise he looked the same.

“Ah.” Damian turned and walked away, directly towards Hal.

“Damian!” Bruce called after him.

His son did not listen, just marched straight up to Hal.

Bruce watched as Hal whipped around to face Damian, looked at him for a minute as Damian talked, and then the officer looked up and around until he saw Bruce. They just stood there and looked at each other. Then Hal looked back down at Damian and the two conversed for a bit. Damian nodded and turned and walked away, back towards Bruce.

“What did you do!?” Bruce exclaimed, grabbing Damian’s shoulder lightly.

“I invited him to dinner on Sunday. At six. Be on your best behavior, Father.”

“Damian!”

“Listen, I’m tired of watching you mope around. You need to sort things out between you two. It’s obvious he means more to you then you’re willing to admit, as with most things that require emotions.”

Damian turned and walked away, heading towards the squashes. Bruce just stared after him, eyes wide. His son really just did that. He could be such a little shit.

He took a breath, turning back and making eye contact with Hal. They just looked at each other over the small crowd, occasionally losing sight of each other due to someone passing in front. They didn’t make an attempt to approach each other, but they sat there and looked at each other. Bruce broke first, looking away, looking for his son. Damian was still looking at squashes. When he looked back, Hal had been distracted by pumpkins. Bruce just turned and walked away towards Damian.

When they got home, Damian proudly marched up to the rest of the family, little arms full of squashes and announced what he had done, at which everyone expressed how proud they were.. Dick gave Bruce a smug look at which Bruce just rolled his eyes and walked away.

Sunday rolled around, and he definitely was not a bundle of nerves. He was calm and collected as he took a shower at 3pm and made sure to shave and style his hair and the other essentials, though a lot of personal care items that were essential for humans were completely moot points for vampires. And he definitely was not super anxious when he went downstairs to help Alfred finish dinner.

There was no reason for him to be this anxious. It wasn’t like it was anything fancy. It was just dinner with his kids and with Hal.

And there was the main problem. Hal.

Bruce still hadn’t sorted out his feelings for Hal and he didn’t know that he ever would. He didn’t know that he wanted to.

He heard the doorbell go off, and Dick yelled an announcement that he would get it. Bruce had to calm a wave of anxiety that Dick would remember to mask, and waited patiently, continuing to saute asparagus.

Eventually he heard an all too familiar voice accompanying his sons. He looked up at Alfred.

“Is it too late to be in Europe on a business trip?”

Alfred just laughed and pointed at the door with his spoon.

“Go greet your guest, Master Bruce.”

“Technically he’s Damian’s guest?”

Alfred’s eyebrow raised. “God forbid, are you nervous?”

“No!” Bruce snapped back.

“Oh of course not, how could I dare to even suggest that the brave Batman could ever feel something as petty as fear ?” Alfred’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and it took everything in Bruce to not smack him with his spoon.

“Go, dear boy. I don’t know what you’re so worried about.”

“Me neither,” Bruce grumbled, setting the spoon down before walking out.

Dick and Hal were walking down the hall towards the dining room, Dick was laughing at something Hal had said. He looked up and saw Bruce and went quiet, his grin dropping. Dick just kept laughing, especially once he glanced at Bruce.

“I’ll leave you two,” he said between his chuckles, disappearing into the family room.

“Hi, Bruce,” Hal said softly, glancing around and tucking his hands into the pockets of his slacks. 

He was wearing dark brown slacks and a blue sweater over a white button up. They just stood there for a moment, looking at each other.

“Long time no see,” Bruce said softly, walking closer.

“Yeah, yeah it has been.”

Bruce cleared his throat, glancing around the dark hall. “You look-” the words died in his throat

” . . . how are you?

“I’ve been pretty good,” Hal said with a one shouldered shrug. “Well. . . No, I got fired from the DSMC, but I’m really not too torn up about that.”

“What? Why?” Bruce exclaimed, surprised.

“Well, turns out that the DSMC doesn’t really like it when one of their agents is working to undermine and expose all their deepest darkest secrets with a very notable public figure.”

Bruce scoffed. “Now I wonder why that is.”

“Yeah, It’s a mystery!”

“How’d they find out? You were supposed to be completely anonymous, and I know Lois wouldn’t have leaked it.”

Hal shrugged. “Someone at the office ratted me out, I guess? I dunno. Don’t really care to know.”

“How long ago did this happen?”

“Two months ago? About?”

“Damn, what have you been doing since then?”

“Job hopping mostly. Getting a discharge and fired from a government agency doesn’t look too good on your record.”

Bruce blinked at him. “You should have called me. I could have gotten you something.”

“Well, I wasn’t aware we were on speaking terms.”

“Ah, Father. Come, Alfred says dinner is ready.”

Bruce jumped and spun to face Damian who was standing down at the end of the hall, smirking. He had approached completely quietly, which meant he had probably been using levitation. Hal also looked surprised, so he probably hadn’t seen the teen approach either.

“Okay, thank you, Damian. We’ll be there shortly.”

Damian nodded and disappeared back down the hall. Bruce turned to Hal, eyeing him, trying to decide if he should bring back up Hal’s last sentence or not. Hal just cleared his throat and glanced around.

“Well, uh, we should go. I’d hate to keep Alfred waiting.”

“Yes, of course.”

Bruce turned and started leading him through the house to the formal dining room. Everyone else was already at the table, chattering cheerfully. An empty spot was left beside Bruce’s usual seat, to his right, where Dick usually sat. Dick was one seat down, with Wally next to him.

“Another red head?” Hal asked, nodding at Wally.

“My kids seem to have a bias towards them,” Bruce said with an eye roll. “Hal, this is Wally West. Wally, Hal Jordan.”

Wally stood and held out his hand to Hal. “Nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you,” Hal greeted back with a nod.

They sat down at the table and Hal exchanged pleasantries with each of the kids. It seemed easy for them to all fall into conversation, like nothing had ever happened between Bruce and Hal. Like Hal was a long time family friend.

Dinner was nice and easy and relaxed. Bruce kept stealing glances over at Hal as he munched on his dinner. It might not do anything for him physically, but he still enjoyed eating. Alfred’s cooking was like none other, even to the undead. 

Hal looked tired, and even though he was smiling and laughing with the kids, every time his smile fell even fractionally, Bruce could see he was weary. It hit his heart with a pang when he realized he was the reason for this. He was the reason Hal had been fired and was now struggling to live. 

He had been staring at Hal for too long, and he realized this when Hal suddenly glanced over and met his eyes. Hal’s eyebrow arched up and his head tilted sideways in a silent question. Bruce blinked, then slid his gaze away, feeling a little sheepish at being caught. He heard a soft chuckle from beside him, and couldn’t help but look back over. Hal was grinning at him. They held eye contact for a moment before Damian said something to Hal and caused him to look away.

What the hell was he doing?

After dinner, Dick and Wally immediately volunteered to help clean up, Damian managed to make himself scarce by saying he had homework, and Tim left with his boyfriends, who happened to show up five minutes after dinner was complete. Convenient. So Bruce poured him and Hal another glass of wine and led Hal to the sitting room, sinking into his favorite armchair. Hal didn’t sit immediately, walking around and looking at some of the pictures on the wall and bookshelves. 

“Is this Dick?”

“Jason, actually. Dick wasn’t living with me when Jason was younger.”

Hal hummed, looking at the portrait of Bruce and Jason, Jason beaming like he had just won the olympics or something. Bruce sighed through his nose softly. He felt a little guilty for it, but he couldn’t help but wish Jason was still that bright and happy.

Silence stretched over them for a while, even after Hal had sat on the sofa nearest to Bruce. The silence wasn’t awkward, more tense. Waiting for one of them to speak and break it. Waiting for one of them to bring up the inevitable. Hal fidgeted in his seat, and Bruce knew he was about to speak.

“I never reported Jason.”

That was not what Bruce had been expecting. 

He turned to Hal, head tilted in confusion. “What?”

“I just . . . never did.” Hal said with a shrug. “It didn’t feel right.”

Bruce took his time, calculating, considering what he was going to say. Hal shifted again, turning to face Bruce fully.

“I mean, after all we did, exposing the DSMC. I just . . . it wasn’t right to just turn around and immediately report him. And . . . and I didn’t want to- no, I couldn’t hurt you guys like that,” he was speaking softly, like he was scared, almost. “Your family welcomed me into your house, despite my job, despite who I was. You treated me like a friend, you trusted me to come into your home and not try to dig anything up on you. And I just couldn’t turn around and hurt you like that.”

Something in Bruce’s chest swelled. He knew Hal hadn’t said anything. No investigations had been launched into Jason, so he had known. But hearing it from his own mouth? That was something different.

“I know,” Bruce murmured, glancing down at his wine.

Hal didn’t speak, and Bruce could feel the weight of his gaze. He looked up and over and met his eyes. And they just sat there.

“You could have called.”

“I didn’t know how you felt about me. I was worried you’d-”

“I would’ve loved to hear from you.”

Hal hesitated, swallowed, and then nodded. “Okay.”

Bruce smiled just slightly, glancing around again.

“You’re a pilot, right?”

“Yeah. I should probably get my license renewed, but yeah.”

Bruce nodded thoughtfully. Then he stood, finishing his wine in one swallow. 

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

“Outside?”

“No, we’re just going to stroll around the manor. Yes outside,” Bruce said with a laugh, setting his glass down and offering a hand to Hal.

Hal hesitated, finished his own wine, then took his hand and stood.

They didn’t let go right away.

Bruce quickly dropped his hand and turned, walking towards the back door. Hal trailed after him, looking around when they got out. The sun was setting, casting a dusky orange glow over everything. They walked together silently for a while, before the quiet  started getting to Bruce and he just started talking, telling Hal about the property, about finding the bat caves in the old well, about the gardens. Eventually he got to talking about the kids, about Dick and Wally and their engagement. About Jason and his relationship with Roy and Lian. He talked about Tim, about his magic abilities, about how quickly he progressed every time Barbara taught him something new, and about Damian, how smart and talented the boy was, but how worried Bruce was about him. He talked so long, rambling along, that they had looped back to the back patio.

“Bruce,” Hal murmured softly, stepping in and grabbing the sleeve of his shirt, tugging on him.

“Hmm?” Bruce asked, turning to look at him.

He felt nervous, why the fuck would he be feeling nervous? He was Batman , he didn’t get nervous. And then Hal was stepping in, hands on Bruce’s arms, closing the distance between them.

“Can I kiss you?” Hal murmured, voice barely audible, yet cutting through the night air as loud as a whip.

Bruce’s breath, as unnecessary as it was, caught in his throat, and he stared at Hal, eyes wide. Hal waited, barely inches away, looking into his eyes.

Bruce knew this was coming. He could have predicted it. In fact he had predicted it. He may not be the best with emotions, romantic ones especially, but he wasn’t completely incompetent. He had recognized signs, in both Hal and himself. He knew this would probably happen. He wanted this to happen. And yet here he was, surprised.

“Y-yeah,” he whispered.

Hal didn’t wait any longer, just slid his hands up and cupped Bruce’s face before leaning in and kissing him gently. Bruce hesitated a moment before letting his own hands settle on Hal’s hips, pressing into his skin just slightly, holding him in place. The kiss was soft and tentative and scared. Emotions swirling around them, nerves high.

Hal pulled away first, blinking at Bruce for a moment. He opened his mouth, and then shut it. Bruce didn’t quite know what to say either, so he leaned forwards and kissed Hal again. Hal made a small surprised noise, but didn’t resist, letting his arms slide over Bruce’s shoulders.

They separated naturally this time, staying close, noses and foreheads barely touching.

“Bruce-”

Bruce just hummed. He felt really warm, and happy. Whatever Hal had to say, he didn’t say it, just smiled warmly at Bruce, chuckling a bit. Hal was a warm weight under his hands, grounding and real and alive and human. Bruce let out a soft sigh as he remembered this, stepping back. Hal looked confused and blinked.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Bruce lied, squeezing into his hips for a moment before letting go.

Hal’s eyebrow went up, and he reached out, catching Bruce’s hand. Bruce just looked at him. Hal smiled softly at him.

“Hey Bruce!”

They both jumped and turned to look at Wally, leaning out of the back door. Bruce narrowed his eyes at the redhead, stepping back from Hal again.

“What?”

“Uh, we’re having a bit of an . . . issue?”

Bruce sighed. “I’ll be right there.” 

Wally hesitated a moment before disappearing back inside.

“Man this family really doesn’t give you a break, does it?”

“You have no idea,” Bruce grumbled, looking back at Hal.

He was grinning slightly, eyes soft despite the joy that reached them. He squeezed Bruce’s hand slightly, then let go. 

“Go to your kids.”

“Hal, I-”

“It’s okay. I’m not gonna run.”

Bruce nodded and turned, jogging up the patio steps and into the house. He found Dick and Wally in the living room, Dick sprawled out in incubus form, his leg elevated onto the armrest. Anxiety rocketed through him at the sight.

“What happened?”

“Evaluate your knowledge on your son and take a guess,” Wally grumbled, sitting in an armchair.

Bruce sighed.

“Really, Dick?”

“Listen, I was dared .”

Bruce sat at the end of the sofa, picking up Dick’s leg and feeling the paw like foot for any breaks or sprains.

“Where’s Alfred?”

“With Damian, he needed help with something.”

Bruce grumbled something under his breath, his foot didn’t feel broken, but it was swelling which means he had hurt it somehow. 

“Richard, I wonder about you some days,” Bruce huffed out, even though he was chuckling slightly. 

“Oh you say as if we don’t all worry about you.”

That got a snort from Wally.

“I’ll go get stuff to set this, I think you probably just strained it,” Bruce said, starting to stand.

“Hey, Bruce?”

Everyone froze, recognizing Hal’s voice. Bruce’s eyes shot down to Dick.

“I can’t ,” Dick hissed, in answer to Bruce’s silent question.

Bruce moved to intercept Hal, but it was too late, he was already in the doorway, only the back of the sofa blocking his view to Dick.

“What’s wrong?” Bruce asked, eyebrow raising.

“I was about to ask you the same thing. Is Dick okay?”

“Yeah, he just sprained his ankle, preforming some dumb gymanstic stunt, I assume.”

“Donna dared me, what was I supposed to do!”

“Not do it, like a sane person?” Wally inputted.

“I’m not a coward , Wallace.”

Hal had walked closer, and Bruce took another step forwards, into his path.

“Do you need help setting that-”

“No,” Bruce said quickly.

Hal stopped short and narrowed his eyes at Bruce. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not-”

“Oh my god, Bruce, give it up. The cat is out of the bag,” Dick grumbled. “I don’t care if he knows. I trust Hal.”

Bruce hesitated, then glanced over at Dick. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Bruce nodded, then stepped out of the way, Hal gave him a weirded out look, then stepped around the sofa. He looked at Dick for a long moment. Then he looked up at Bruce. And then he sighed heavily and rubbed his face.

“Bruce, what the fuck .”

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“I hate that I’m not even surprised anymore,” Hal said with a sigh. “An incubus?”

Dick chuckled as he nodded. “Yeah. That’s me.”

“Wow. I had. . . I was actually clueless this time. Like Tim and Jason I both had a hunch on, Cass wasn’t what I expected, but I wasn’t that surprised but. . .” Hal sighed again, shaking his head. “Wow. Okay.”

“Can we worry about my fiance’s injury?”

“I’m fine,” Dick shot back.

“He’ll be fine, I just want to wrap it to be sure,” Bruce confirmed, looking back at Wally.

Wally looked a little doubtful, but nodded. 

“I’ll go grab those, Hal would you...?”

“Yep.”

They walked out together, and headed down to the closet where Alfred stored a bunch of medical things.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Bruce said softly as they walked down the halls.

“It’s okay, it’s not really something that’s my place to demand information on.”

“But-”

“No, even when I was at the DSMC. It’s not. . . It wasn’t right. So it’s not any of my business. Especially with how the DSMC treats Incubi and Succubi. I don’t blame you guys at all.”

Bruce sighed softly, opening the closet and pulling out a small tub and digging through for the right kind of wraps.

“The whole world treats them poorly,” Bruce said softly. “I rescued him from a necromancer who was summoning him for sex trade. He was eleven, Hal. And I just . . . I knew from that moment on he’d never be safe being open about who he was.”

“Yeah. It’s . . . it’s so fucked up.”

“He’s luckily got an amazing group of friends, and Wally. But god, it’s a terrifying world for an incubus.”

Hal nodded in agreement. Bruce shut the door to the closet, turning to him.

“Hey,” Hal grabbed his elbow lightly, holding him to be facing Hal.

“What?” Bruce asked.

His eyes dropped to Hal’s lips as he talked, pure instinctive habit of lip reading, and quickly the memory of kissing Hal hit him.

“I understand why you didn’t tell me, Bruce. I would have done the same, okay?”

“I know.”

“Okay.”

They looked at each other for a moment before Hal turned and started leading the way back to Dick. Bruce worked silently, patching up his son, shaking his head fondly as he kept his touch firm but soft.

“Okay, try not to do any more dumb stunts, okay?”

“I’ll try,” Dick said with a laugh, popping up and grabbing Wally’s hand, dragging him away.

Bruce just shook his head again, relaxing back into the sofa and looking up at Hal. He chuckled and sat next to Bruce.

“Kids, huh?”

“Kids.”

They sat there for a moment, just looking at each other.

“So, about outside,” Bruce started softly.

Hal leaned in, pushing up onto one knee on the sofa, a hand on the back of it. Bruce instinctively tilted his head up, right at the right moment to catch Hal’s lips in a soft kiss. He instantly melted into him, hands going up to hold onto Hal’s hips, sinking back into the sofa a bit. Hal’s free hand came up to rest on Bruce’s neck, and they just kissed softly for a moment. Hal pulled away first, but stayed close, their breath mingling between them.

“About outside?” Hal asked.

Their eyes met. And Bruce just stared into Hal’s for a moment. 

“Nothing,” he said softly, and just kissed him again.

That was a conversation that could happen later, right now he was a little busy, focusing on the feeling of kissing Hal.

Chapter Text

Bruce laughed softly, grinning at Hal as they spun around. Hal’s hands were on Bruce’s waist, holding him close, Bruce’s hands had been on his shoulders, but now his arms were looped around Hal, leaning into him, letting Hal take the lead.

They had been officially dating for a few months now. Through harassment from the kids, Bruce’s own feelings, and Hal’s gentle pursuit of him, Bruce had caved and committed. And it was nice. It was nice to be able to have Hal out at his house, and not have to worry about the kids. It was nice to be dating someone who knew the truth, who knew what Bruce really was, and didn’t care. 

Or at least, most of the truth. There was still a very large secret hiding in Bruce’s basement, but that wasn’t important. Not as important as the fluttering in his chest every time Hal smiled, or how drunk he felt after they kissed. Hal could make almost every thought of Batman melt away. He was, to use a cheesy metaphor, intoxicating, and Bruce was happily under his influence.

“God, I love seeing the looks from everyone,” Hal hummed in his ear, turning to press his nose into Bruce’s hair slightly.

Bruce hummed, tilting his head away just slightly, Hal’s breath loud and hot in his ear. He usually didn’t mind, but with all the other noise, it was just a little too much.

They were at a gala tonight. This was the second one Hal had attended with Bruce. The kids were all off with each other or with their dates, and Hal had snagged Bruce away from a group of benefactors to dance. Bruce was grateful for the break.

“I think they nearly blew their tops last time.”

“Yeah?” Hal asked, having noticed his reaction and pulled back just slightly.

“Yeah. Imagine the scandal of me, a rich old vampire, being gay and dating an ex DSMC officer, who on top of that is an ex Air Force captain?”

“Oh, Scandalous.” Hal chuckled, hand sliding into the small of Bruce’s back.

Bruce hummed confirmation, pulling back enough to be comfortable with direct eye contact. Hal’s brown eyes reflected his smile, he quickly leaned in to kiss Bruce.

“You still coming over tonight?” Hal asked. 

Bruce could feel the pressure from his fingers increase, noticed Hal’s eyes flicker down quickly. He smiled. 

“I was planning on it, yes.”

“Amazing.”

The song faded out. Bruce kissed Hal once more before stepping out of his arms. “I’ve gotta go back to socializing. I’ll see you around?”

“Want me to bring you a drink?”

“No I ate- oh. . . Yes please.”

Hal laughed as he turned and walked away towards the bar. Bruce watched him long enough to see him get intercepted by Cass. He just smiled and turned to walk towards the Mayor, hoping to drag him into a conversation about a few political things.

Ever since it had been made public that he was a vampire, he hadn’t been treated quite the same. He was still treated with respect, since everyone knew he could probably buy their houses out from under them, but it was a different type of respect. More fearful. A reaction he was used to as Batman, but not as Bruce Wayne. It was tiring.

The rest of the evening passed in a dull blur. He chatted with different people, making his way around the building. Sometimes he stopped to talk to the kids, or dance with Hal. Once or twice, Hal almost pulled him into a back hall of the building, stopped only by the interception of one of Bruce’s “friends”. Bruce could tell Hal was getting increasingly more and more frustrated, but he couldn’t do anything about it other than shoot him apologetic smiles, and remind him that he didn’t have to stay.

But finally, nearing the end of the night, Hal managed to drag him out to the back of the building, where there was a patio and a small garden. Hal was grinning mischievously as he pushed Bruce into an alcove between a wall and a potted plant.

“Hal, I’m coming over tonight, remember?” Bruce asked, between surprisingly fevered kisses.

“Oh I know. It’s just you look so damn good in that suit, and wouldn’t it just be so much more fun if the press thought we were getting up to things?”

“You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re trying to cause scandals.”

Hal hummed into his lips, a hand reaching up and unbuttoning Bruce’s jacket so he could slide his hand under it. Bruce rolled his eyes before letting them close, melting into Hal’s kisses.

Hal looked ravishing in his suit, it was dark gray, custom tailored to hug his body, and make him that much more attractive. Bruce had been there for the fitting, and he had looked as hot in it that day as he did now, if not more so now.

Hal had started kissing his jaw when Bruce heard an all too familiar flutter of a cape. He froze. Hal paused when Bruce’s grip on his arms tightened to the point of almost painful. The throat clearing startled Hal, but Bruce already knew who it was.

“What do you want?” He asked, holding Hal so he couldn’t turn around.

“You weren’t answering your. . . phone,” Superman answered, voice deeper than usual.

“I was a little busy.”

“I see that now.”

“What is it?” Bruce snapped, glancing past Hal at Clark, who was hovering a bit away, eyes averted.

“There’s trouble. Bad trouble. We need your help.”

“Bruce?” Hal asked, looking alarmed. 

“Why can’t someone else handle it?”

Anyone else. Richard even.

“Because they’re specifically asking for you.”

Bruce closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.

“Bruce, no,” Hal said softly, eyes wide, almost scared.

His heart was pounding wildly, blood pumping through his veins at near an alarming speed.

“I’m sorry, Hal, I have to go.”

“Go where?” Hal exclaimed. “Bruce what is going on?”

Hal pulled against him, but Bruce’s strength was just too much.

“I’ll be there in a bit,” He told Clark, nodding away. 

Clark nodded and took off. Bruce finally let go of Hal and he ripped away, turning to look behind him. Then he whirled back to Bruce, though there were a few feet between them now.

“What the fuck is going on!?”

“I’ll explain everything later, okay? But right now I have to go,” Bruce answered, oddly calm.

This had happened before. It would happen again. This is why relationships never worked out for him, not because of being a vampire.

No one liked dating a liar who ran out on them all the time.

“Bruce!”

“Hal, I’m sorry , okay? But people are in danger right now. I have to go help!”

“Go help who? Why can’t you tell me! If people are in danger, I should be helping too!”

“You can’t! You could get hurt!”

“Bruce, I’m fucking trained for this, you’re just a goddamn rich boy who happens to be a vampire! You’re the one in danger!”

Bruce glared at him, his anger bubbling up. Why was Hal being unreasonable?

“You just can’t. I have to go now.”

He turned on his heel and started to walk away.

“Bruce, wait!”

That got him to hesitate, then stop, turning halfway back to Hal.

“Just be careful, dumbass.”

Bruce nodded and continued walking away. He called the Batcar as he ran inside, finding Dick first and explaining before running out the front doors, heading closer to the road to wait for the car’s arrival. The second it appeared, he hopped in, already stripping out of his suit, and took off for the nearest Zeta.

He didn’t get home until mid-afternoon the next day, bruised and bloody and exhausted. He hadn’t eaten since before the party the previous day, and had spent most of the night fighting a hostile alien enemy. He spent nearly an hour being patched up by Alfred, then had to repair his suit, then log all his new information from this encounter. For the most part, things like this were handled by the Lantern Corps, but they had, at first, had no reason to believe this was a hostile situation, just an alien wanting to talk to Batman.

It had quickly gone downhill.

Bruce had gone to bed at six that evening and slept until eight the next morning. He didn’t usually need sleep, but due to his low calorie intake and injuries, he was utterly exhausted. And the next morning he drank an alarming amount of blood, still feeling exhausted after.

“Hal called like four times yesterday.”

Bruce looked up at Tim, who shuffled in, plopping himself down, chin on his hands. It took him a minute to remember why Tim was even home from school. Then he remembered it was winter break.

“Yeah?” He asked, stomach flipping slightly.

“He sounded pretty worried, but also kinda annoyed.”

“I did kind of run out on him the other night.”

“I know.”

Bruce sighed, rubbing his face and sipping his coffee.

“Do you think I should tell him?”

Tim hummed questioning, blinking sleepily.

“About Batman.”

“Oh,” Tim said softly, sitting up a little straighter. The eighteen year old was quiet as he stood, walking around the island to get his own cup of coffee. “What’s with this sudden attachment to him? One week you hate him, and the next you two can’t get your hands off each other.”

“I don’t know, Tim. I just. . . really like him. In ways I haven’t liked someone in years,” Bruce said. “I trust him. And. . . fuck I don’t know.”

Tim snorted. “You love him, you’re just too emotionally constipated to admit it.”

Bruce shot him a withering glare. Tim shrugged.

“Listen, you trust him. We trust him. Every one of us, even Damian. You also clearly feel very strongly about him. If you think he’s gonna stick around for a while, then just tell him.”

“Yeah, but. . .” Bruce sighed again. “He’s mortal, Tim.”

“You say that like you can’t fix that issue easily.”

“I don’t want to do that.”

Tim offered another shrug.

“You’ve got a choice to make, Bruce. But, if you wanna tell him, then I encourage you to tell him. Because he’s clearly head over heels for you.”

Bruce just groaned again and hid his face in his hands. He felt hungover, and he hadn’t gotten truly hungover in a while. Tim sat with him for a while before getting up and walking out, his phone ringing an obnoxious tune Bruce recognized as Bart’s ringtone.

After moping around all morning, he went and got dressed and went down to the batcave, doing work down there for a few hours. Then he showered, got in a car and started driving to Hal’s apartment. He had been there a few times by now. He honestly preferred them spending the night there, rather than them spending it at the manor, just because of all his kids. They were incredibly nibby and would not stop hazing them. Bruce still got hazed when he got home, but he’d rather it be just him, than both he and Hal.

All that aside, he knew how to get to Hal’s apartment, he knew where to park, he knew how to get in through the gates, he knew exactly which floor and door.

At this point, he was just praying that Hal was actually home. 

He walked up to the door and knocked. He couldn’t really hear much noise from inside the apartment. He braced an arm against the doorframe and then knocked again after a minute of waiting.

There was no response. He tried knocking again, and when he’d waited for nearly five minutes, he turned and slid down the wall to be sitting, staring at the wall opposite from him. He waited nearly another five minutes, just processing, and then he pulled out his phone, calling Hal.

It rang twice before going to voicemail.

Ah. He was being ignored.

He waited another minute and then called again, actually letting the voicemail go through.

“Hey, Hal. This is Bruce. I stopped by your apartment, but I guess you’re not here? Or you’re ignoring me. Which is fair. I was a total douche the other night, and I should have called you yesterday but I. . . was honestly asleep all night. But I’m sure me leaving Saturday night didn’t look good. Just. . . Call me back or stop by the manor or something. Please just give me a chance to exp-”

“Bruce?”

Bruce startled, looking up at the source of the voice. Hal was standing at the end of the hall, staring at him in shock, still wearing a flight suit and a bag of groceries in one hand.

“Hal!” Bruce exclaimed.

Hal was silent for a moment. “An interesting place for a billionaire to sit.”

Bruce instinctively looked down at the floor.

“Wha- oh.”

He jumped up, brushing off his jeans, hanging up the phone.

“How long have you been sitting here?”

“Like. . . ten minutes.”

“Did you call?”

“Twice.”

“Oh,” Hal said softly, glancing around. “I must’ve been driving.”

Bruce nodded. Hal walked up to Bruce, leaned in and kissed him quickly, and then pushed his groceries into Bruce’s arms.

“Hold those?”

Bruce just snorted and hung onto them while Hal dug out his keys and unlocked the front door. Bruce followed him in, squinting in the sudden light change when Hal flipped on the overhead lamps. Hal’s apartment wasn’t much, but it was nice and homey and Bruce honestly kind of loved it.

Hal locked the door behind him and took the groceries back, walking to the kitchen.

“So what brings you by?”

“I wanted to explain Saturday night.”

Hal hummed, glancing over his shoulder as he shoved cans of vegetables into his cabinets.

Bruce was silent, staring at the island for a minute.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“And what do you think it looks like, Bruce?”

Bruce swallowed. “A shitty excuse for cheating?”

Hal hummed softly. There was just a slight uptick in his hum, enough to indicate affirmation.

“It’s not.”

“Then what is it?” Hal still hadn’t turned to look at him, just continued putting his groceries away.

“When I said I had to go save people, I wasn’t lying.”

Hal stopped moving. Bruce saw the rise of his shoulders, and then the fall as he exhaled. Then he turned around, looking disappointed.

“Do you understand why I find that so hard to believe?”

“I know. I know it sounds absurd but it’s the truth.”

“So what. Are you telling me you’re a vigilante or something?”

“Yeah.”

Hal snorted. “Then what, that guy who interrupted us on Saturday night. . . was that like Batman or something?”

“Superman, actually,” Bruce corrected, wincing at how close he was.

Hal laughed. He just laughed, and Bruce could tell it was with disbelief.

“You realize how insane that sounds right? You’re a vigilante who’s pals with Superman.”

“Hal. You know what happened Saturday night?” Bruce asked, trying to figure out how to convince him.

“Yeah, you ran out on me.”

“No, something else. Did you not hear about anything?”

“Bruce you know I don’t watch the news.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, sighing and rubbing his face, anxiety roaring to life inside him. “Sunday morning there was almost an alien invasion. The Justice League just barely stopped it. That’s what I was called away to. When Cl- When Superman said they were asking specifically for me, they really were.”

“God, are you shitting me right now?” Hal asked, walking closer, hands on his hips as he shook his head.

“Oh for fucks sake! Hal I’m trying to come clean here!”

“And it sounds like a clever lie to protect your ass! Listen, Bruce, if you’re seeing someone else, that’s fine, but I refuse to be the side bitch so-”

“Oh would you shut the fuck up! I’m not cheating on you, I’m Batman for hell's sake!”

Hal’s mouth closed with a click, his eyes wide. And then he just busted out laughing.

“Yeah right.”

“I’m not joking,” Bruce said softly.

“Bruce, there’s no way you’re Batman.”

“Oh really? And why’s that?”

“Well, because he’s like, deadly and shit. And you’re. . .” Hal waved to Bruce.

Bruce arched an eyebrow. Hal stared at him for a minute, and then his grin dropped. 

“You’re not kidding?”

“Think about it, Hal. Batman is a vampire. He’s got an assortment of colleagues, he would have to be someone with a lot of resources and money to fund his activities. I fund a lot of Justice League programs.”

Hal just stared at him. “You’re fucking kidding me. Is that why you’ve never let me spend the nig-”

“Yep.”

“And why you randomly call off dates!”

Bruce nodded again. Hal turned away, rubbing his face.

“No. No. This- I need proof.”

“Okay.” Bruce stood and pulled out his phone. “Grab your keys.”

Hal followed him outside. Bruce let him watch as he selected the app for the Batcar and called it.

“Holy fuck,” Hal muttered from behind him.

It didn’t take long for the car to show up, there was one they kept in a warehouse on this end of town. It pulled up along the side of the road, and Hal let out a string of curses. Bruce just walked over, glancing around and tapping a few buttons, jumping into the now open top with practiced ease.

“Get in.”

Hal scrambled across the road and clambered in. Bruce turned to look at him. He looked a little pale.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered. 

Bruce laughed softly to hide his nerves, hitting a button to turn on the car. It roared to life. Hal was silent for a while as they drove, and Bruce left it, letting him process.

“Wait so. . . so the kids? Are they-”

“Yeah.”

“God you let your children be vigilantes?”

“Only after they were old enough and could properly defend themselves. . . except Dick. I let him go out far too early. Damian’s still not allowed out.”

Hal made a little huh noise. He turned in his seat to look at Bruce.

“I hate to say, but this really does explain so much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Silence fell over them again. Bruce’s stomach was still churning with anxiety, but he didn’t know what else to say, so he just kept driving, right into the batcave. The whole drive through the tunnels, Hal was just softly muttering what the fuck . Bruce was starting to get even more concerned now. This could go very wrong. Not everyone liked or trusted Batman, even after all these years. What if Hal freaked out? What if he thought Bruce was insane?

When they got in and parked, the cave was empty, and Bruce was glad for that. He hesitated before opening the top and hopping out.

“Jesus,” Hal muttered, following him out. “You’re not kidding. You’re actually Batman.”

“The one and only. Well. . . No, Dick and Jason have both put on the cowl at different times, but I’m the original.”

Hal was silent as Bruce led him up the stairs, to the main floor of the batcave. From here, the computer was directly ahead, the suits and locker room to the left, and the medbay and a small lounge to their right. 

“Explore around.” Bruce waved his hand, swallowing nervously.

Hal looked at him for a long minute before turning and walking towards the suit display cases. He looked at them for a while, then turned back to Bruce.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I know.”

“This is. . . I mean, Jesus, I want to call you insane, but-” Hal gestured around the cave. “It’s a little hard when I’m standing in the middle of- what. What is this?”

“We- the kids call it the Batcave.”

Hal snorted, then he laughed and rubbed his face. “This is crazy. I’m dating Batman.”

He turned and looked around once more.

“And this? This connects up to the manor?”

“Yeah. Currently you’re standing under the family room.”

Hal instinctively looked up, then back to Bruce. And then he rubbed his face again.

“Bruce I’m gonna. . . I’m gonna need some time to process this.”

“Okay.”

“I’m glad you’re not like, cheating on me, but this is. . . it’s a lot.”

Bruce nodded. He understood. He really did. He’d witnessed friends and family all go through the same realization enough times to know how people usually handled it.

“I’ll take you back home.”

They drove back to Hal’s apartment in silence. Bruce sent the Batcar back to its storage and walked to the front gate with him.

“I’ll. . . I’ll give you some space,” he said softly, digging into his pocket for his keys.

“Thank you,” Hal murmured, sticking his hands into his own pockets.

“I’ll see you around.”

“See ya.”

Bruce turned and walked away from Hal, feeling slightly weird, but like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Chapter Text

Bruce yawned, stretching his arms up over his head. Arms tightened around his chest, and a displeased groan reached his ears. He smiled, dropping his arms to wrap them tight around Hal’s back, turning his face to kiss his forehead.

“Good morning.”

“You slept two hours, you owl,” Hal grumbled, wiggling to press himself closer, as if trying to leach heat from Bruce.

He had remarked in the past how alarming it had been to realize that Bruce produced almost no body heat. Which made sense, considering he wasn’t technically alive, but it still took Hal a while to get used to.

“Mmm, you’d know,” Bruce murmured, grinning enough to show his sharp canines.

Hal huffed, shaking his head just slightly. Then he closed his eyes and pressed his face into Bruce’s neck. Bruce smiled a little, just holding him tight.

After Hal had found out about Bruce being Batman, Hal had taken about a week to just… process everything. Well, it’d been a week because Bruce had ended up going to California for work. When he’d gotten back, Hal had come right to the manor, and was quick to tell Bruce he still wanted this, wanted their relationship. There hadn’t been a doubt in Bruce’s mind when he’d said he still wanted it too, and here they were now, curled up in Bruce’s bed.

Faintly, Bruce could hear the kids thumping around, getting ready for their day, and he knew he should also get up and help Alfred. But Hal was warm and Bruce was selfish. So he just curled a little tighter around his boyfriend, reaching up to gently rub a hand up and down his spine, feeling the divots and dimples in his muscles. Then he got bored, moving Hal easily, rolling to push him down flat. Hal opened his eyes, glaring at him.

“Was gonna fall sleep,” he mumbled, squeezing them closed again.

“Okay.”

Hal hummed softly. But he kissed back when Bruce gently pressed their lips together, and he reached up to loop his arms over Bruce’s neck when the kiss deepened.

The banging at the door startled Hal, but Bruce barely flinched.

“B!” Tim yelled, knocking again loudly.

Bruce chuckled lightly, pulling away and turning towards the door. “What, Tim?”

“Alfred needs you to drive us to school!”

“What? Why?”

“He’s busy doing surgery on Jason.”

Bruce groaned and dropped his forehead onto Hal’s chest.

“How does he get injured so much?” He could hear Hal’s heart pick up speed.

“I don’t know,” Bruce grumbled back, then louder he yelled back to the door. “I’ll be down in a bit, Tim! Just be ready at usual time!”

There was a pause. “Okay,” Tim called back, softer than before.

He was worried about Jason, Bruce could tell instantly. He’d comfort the teen later, but for right now, he was a little busy. He needed to get dressed and ready for work and now had a limited amount of time to do that.

“You want a ride in?” Bruce asked, sliding off Hal and shuffling over to the edge of the bed.

Hal sat up, rubbing his eyes. “I guess.”

Bruce ducked into the bathroom, quickly styling his hair. He had long since given up on attempting to mask the insanely pale skin. The public knew, so there was no point in all of it. Instead he just brushed his teeth and then went to the closet, pulling on a shirt and some slacks, walking back out with both unbuttoned. Hal was pulling on his flight suit from the previous day, yawning, his hair sticking up in all directions.

Bruce had pulled a few strings and through various connections, Hal had been able to pick up a job as a test pilot for a few companies. He traveled a lot more now, but recently he had picked up a job testing a jet for a company here in Gotham, so he had been bouncing back and forth between his apartment and the manor. He was happy, Bruce could tell.

That made Bruce happy.

They trudged downstairs, Bruce obviously far more awake then Hal was, and Hal immediately went to the coffee pot. Bruce got himself breakfast, going around and checking that the kids had everything while they waited for Hal to eat breakfast. Sometimes the kids were a little late to school, but it was fine. Who was going to say shit to Bruce Wayne’s kids for being fashionably late to school.

It took a bit of chasing everyone down, getting them all packed up and bundled into one of Bruce’s larger cars, and then they were on the road. Tim and Damian were bickering in the back seat, Hal starting to look more and more alive as he sipped on his coffee. They dropped the kids off right on time, and then they had to turn and drive to the other side of town to where Hal was currently working. It sounded like he’d mostly be in meetings all day, which Bruce sympathised with.

“You wanna do dinner tonight?”

“Can’t, I have that league meeting.”

“Oh shit, right. I guess I’ll order pizza or something.”

Bruce snorted, glancing over at Hal. “You can eat with my family, if you want.”

Hal was silent, then turned to him. “You’re okay with that?”

“Sure. They all like you, you like them. I don’t see why you need to be buying yourself food when we both know Alfred is going to make far too much for dinner.”

“Well, you guys do eat a lot .”

Bruce chuckled. “I trust you, Hal. We practically live together at this point. You can hang out at my house when I’m not there.”

“You gonna give me the code to the batcave then?”

That got a sigh. Hal just laughed.

“Fine.”

“Wait really?” Hal went serious, blinking at him.

“Yeah. Sure. Tonight when I get home I’ll program your fingerprint in.”

“Oh-”

Bruce shrugged, glancing over at his shocked boyfriend. “You’ll need it sooner or later. The kids or I won’t always be around to let you down.”

“That was surprisingly easy.”

Bruce snorted, smiling as he pulled up to an office building. Hal unbuckled his seatbelt, leaning over and kissing Bruce.

“I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Yep.”

“Bye!”

And just like that, Hal got out and was gone. Bruce watched him leave with a fond smile, before turning and heading off to his own office.

Bruce heard the alarms going off before he realized what was happening. Even with all his extra senses, sometimes he missed minor things like that when he was focused.

He was sat on top of a support beam, watching the floor below him. Rumor had it there was supposed to be a big heist by Penguin tonight, and he wanted to be around to stop it before it started. Usually he’d have one of the boys with him, but Tim was training with his team, Dick was with Wally, and Jason was benched for the day while he recovered. So it was just him. Of course he could have always brought Damian with him, but he wasn’t in that much of a pinch yet, so he had gone out solo, just like the good old days.

But apparently, just like the good old days, someone had somehow pulled the wool over his eyes. He heard the alarms over the coms to the batcave first, and then they started in his earpiece. He scowled and flipped his arm over, looking at the holoscreen that popped up.

There were so many distress alarms in midtown. And Bruce was nowhere near them. Someone had set him up. There was no signs of Penguin, and he’d been sat here for far longer then he would usually wait. He reached up and tapped his earpiece.

“What’s the situation?” he asked, standing and lightly running along the beam back to the exit where he’d come in from.

“Unknown attacker. They seem to be mainly focusing on causing damage, attacking office buildings, which at this time of night, should mostly be empty,” Damian’s voice echoed back.

Bruce scowled a bit, wondering where Alfred was. But he didn’t say anything about that, just ran out and jumped down to the ground and into the Batcar. It revved up the second he sat in the seat, and then he was zipping off towards midtown.

By the time he got near, there was so much destruction he couldn’t get through with the car, so he ditched it a few blocks away, flying closer as a bat. It was easy to be missed when he was so small, but a lot of his common enemies had gotten skilled at locating him in batform. It didn’t take him long to find Killer Croc, his various goons running around with explosive charges.

“Cave, reporting in. It’s Croc.”

“Noted. Informing authorities now. Be careful father.”

Bruce had gotten used to dancing with Croc long ago. He didn’t hesitate to throw himself into the fight with a solid punch from the side that Croc just barely saw before it landed, Bruce shifting back into human form just in time to deliver the hit, and then shifting away.

“What do you want, Croc?” Bruce growled out, landing a few feet away.

“Oh, I wanted you, Batsy. Wanted you distracted, and most importantly, stuck in one place.”

Bruce dodged Croc’s tail, flipping backwards into the air. Croc snarled and lunged after him, slicing at him with his talons.

Bruce stumbled back, right into a heavy set goon, who swung at him with a thick bat. Bruce quickly roundhouse kicked him and then let himself slip into a smoke form to get a little bit of distance between him and his attackers. Only for Killer Croc to grab at him and snag him by the cape.

“Batman, report?” Damian’s voice asked over his comms, he ignored it, twisting to rip his cape away.

He should have seen the stake before the goon rushed him, but he had been occupied with Croc. For the most part, his armor protected him from things like wooden stakes reaching his flesh, but it had been ripped in the fight with Croc. So it was safe to say he was fairly surprised when he was lunging at a goon, and suddenly blinding pain broke out all throughout his thigh. He looked down and found a wooden stake stabbed into the flesh. When he looked up, almost in shock, he found the goon looking equally shocked, but she quickly realized her advantage, spun and sprinted away from him like there were guard dogs nipping at her heels.

Bruce stumbled back a few steps, falling against a broken chunk of cement, listening to Croc’s laughter as he too retreated. He reached down and yanked the wooden stake out without thinking, watching dark, thick blood gurgle out of the wound. He’d been injured many times before on this job. But it was still odd to him every time, to watch himself bleed. He very rarely bled for long.

“Batman? Report in!” Damian called again, voice sounding panicked now.

“I’m fine. Croc disappeared, his goons scattered. I’m. . . having a bit of an issue.”

The coms crackled for a moment before Damian spoke. “What’s wrong?”

“A minor injury. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll send Alfred aft-”

“No. Don’t do that. I’ll be fine. It will heal over in a minute.”

They sat in tense silence for a moment, Bruce watching the wound on his thigh.

“Hey! Bru- Batman! Jesus christ are you okay!?”

Bruce looked up and found a familiar man running over to him. Familiar brown hair, and brown eyes. Safe, sweet, kind and smart brown eyes. Bruce found himself looking at Hal, whos face was plastered with concern.

“I’m okay, it’s just a scratch.”

“That doesn’t look like a scratch!” Hal exclaimed, dropping to his knees beside Bruce, pressing a hand on the wound.

“I’ll be fine, I just need to get to the car.”

“Here, let me help you.”

Hal slipped an arm under Bruce and they started limping back to the car, Bruce leaning against him heavily. They weren’t far, or at least that’s what Bruce thought - in reality they had walked completely the wrong direction - when his leg gave out on him. He fell, grabbing at an alley wall as he almost took Hal down with him.

“Hey, easy now, lets just take a break.”

Hal let Bruce lean against the wall, stepping back and glancing around. He was visibly concerned, hovering over him a bit, constantly glancing around like he was worried someone would come rushing around the corner and try to hurt Bruce further.

“What happened?” Hal asked.

“Stake through my leg,” Bruce grumbled, looking down, he reached down and removed the now broken armor that had been on his thigh. It was still bleeding quite a lot.

“Do you usually bleed this much?” Hal asked, alarmed.

His pants were stained dark red at this point, and blood was still streaming from the wound, which showed no signs of healing. He groaned and sank to the floor. He felt light headed.

“Bruce, hey! What are you doing, we need to bandage that!” Hal exclaimed, dropping down to his knees next to Bruce.

“I just need to rest for a moment.”

Hal was silent for just a moment. “When was the last time you fed?” He asked quietly.

“This morning?”

“Bruce it’s nearly eleven at night! That’s over twelve hours. That’s probably why you’re bleeding so much, you don’t have anything to convert into energy to heal!”

Bruce looked at him for a moment. Hal was staring back into the white lenses of his mask. Hal might be right, but what could he do besides get back to the Batcar and go back to the cave?

“God you’re an idiot,” Hal muttered.

Bruce was starting to sit up when he realized Hal was shoving his jacket off.

“What are you doing?”

“You need to feed.”

“Yeah, So get me to the car and I’ll-” Bruce stopped, realizing. “No.”

“Bruce, you and I both know if that keeps bleeding you’re not making it anywhere.”

“So you think the answer is for me to drink your blood!?”

“Unless you have a blood bag in that handy dandy utility belt? Then yes.”

“No!”

Hal scowled at him, Bruce shook his head, standing.

“No. No, I’m not going to drink your blood, I’m not crossing that line. I have other options.”

“Do you?”

Bruce turned to walk away, and immediately his leg gave out from under him. Before he could even start to fall, Hal was wrapping an arm around him, holding him up. They stumbled a bit, Hal pulled him back until they were both leaning against the wall.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you aren’t feeling weak and light headed?”

Bruce looked up at him. “I’m fine, Hal. I will be fine.”

“No you’re not. I’m calling your bluff right now.”

Bruce just glared back, and Hal didn’t cave. His head was spinning. And then the thoughts wormed in. He could drink just a bit. Just enough to get his energy levels up. More than likely they’d have Hal’s blood type back at the house, and would be able to easily give him a transfusion. He knew he was capable of controlling how much he drank from Hal.

Hal smirked just slightly, and that’s when Bruce caved.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

Hal reached up, gently pushing his cowl off, eyes quickly scanning over Bruce’s face. He was a bit beat up, but not the worst Hal had ever seen. Bruce let his eyes drop to Hal’s neck, scanning over it, trying to guess where the best bite location would be. He need to be careful to avoid the arteries, but still hit a vein or else this would be pointless.

He quickly glanced back up at Hal.

“Hey,” the man murdered, reaching up to gently grab Bruce’s wrists. “It’s okay.”

Bruce nodded and pushed Hal into the wall a little to give him something to support on, before bending his neck and sinking his teeth into warm flesh.

It was nothing remarkable. It was no different then drinking from any other person on the street. Bruce drank just enough to clear his mind and quiet the rumble in his stomach before he pulled away. Hal looked a little stunned and slumped a bit, but Bruce could feel the fresh blood already running through him. As much as he hated to admit it, Hal had been right, he could feel his leg healing, and energy rushing through him. He quickly reached into his belt, pulling out an emergency bandage, and applied it over the bite marks.

“Come on, Hal, let's get to the car.”

Hal leaned into him when Bruce slipped an arm around him, starting back to the car.

“Mask,” Hal mumbled, head falling to the side slightly.

Bruce chuckled, pausing to pull his cowl back on. It didn’t take him long to find the car, easily scooping Hal up and putting him in the passenger seat before hopping into the driver side. Once the top had closed, and they were safely hidden from public view, Bruce leaned over, gently cupping Hal’s face.

“How do you feel?”

“Tired.”

“Lethargy is a common symptom, so is chills and anxiety. Let me know if any of it gets worse.”

“Okay,” was Hal’s sleepy response, before he let his head slump against the window.

When Hal came to, he was in Bruce’s bed with an IV drip in. Bruce was sitting nearby, reading a case file, leg propped up on a footstool.

He heard a soft grunt as Hal tried to roll over, and then stopped.

“Hey,” Bruce murmured, setting aside his work and getting up, barely limping as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Hi?” Hal reached up and rubbed at his eyes, then lifted his arm to look at the IV.

“Alfred wanted to make sure you kept hydrated,” Bruce explained, gently placing a hand on his leg.

Hal hummed in response and let his eyes close. Bruce looked at him for a moment before getting up and walking around the bed. He slipped under the covers and shifted over until he was laying right next to Hal. Hal opened an eye and looked over.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How do you feel?”

“. . . Just tired.”

“Take a nap, Hal. I’ll be right here.”

“Okay.”

Bruce leaned over and kissed Hal on the head, then carefully slipped an arm under him, pulling him closer. Hal gave a soft hum and shifted once before settling his head on Bruce’s shoulder.

“Love you,” Hal murmured so softly Bruce barely heard it.

He froze completely as Hal drifted back into sleep.

Chapter Text

It had been over a year since Bruce had first been exposed as a Vampire, and nearing five months since he and Hal got together. Hal had adjusted to life with the Wayne’s and with the Bat-family, and seemed fairly relaxed with the whole concept now, though he still panicked every time they got home injured or worried when they went off on long missions, which was fair. He didn’t live with them full time, though he often spent weeks at the Mansion, and then when he left for work, or just needed space, Bruce missed him terribly.

Bruce was starting to consider just asking him to move in. . . but he didn’t want to take away Hal’s ability to come and go, or his freedom and silence. Bruce knew how loud his family was, he had escaped to Hal’s apartment a few times when he just needed to be away from his loud children for a bit. He loved them dearly, but sometimes. . . sometimes he just needed to be away.

It was a late spring morning, Bruce had actually slept in late, something he only did about once a month. He’d sleep about eight hours on these rare occasions and crawl out of bed around noon, feeling like he had just been pulled from the grave. He woke up to a silent bedroom, Hal nowhere to be seen. This didn’t frequently bother Bruce, but he still reached across the bed despite himself, as if he was trying to pull Hal into him to cuddle. 

He laid there for a moment, letting himself wake up fully. He could hear voices softly downstairs, and could feel the warm sun just glancing across his shoulders. He finally got up, leaving his phone on the bedside table, and pulled on a t-shirt. Bruce pushed open the curtains so Hal and Alfred wouldn’t come after him for letting the plants in his bedroom die, and then headed downstairs, preparing himself for whatever he might find on this Saturday morning.

What he found was Hal and Jason cooking waffles, eggs, bacon and hashbrowns, while Alfred was completely missing from the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway, staring at the two, who were talking and laughing as they cooked together. Hal glanced up, catching Bruce’s eye, and smiled so softly.

“Good morning,” he said, his tone immediately softening from the one he’d been using to banter with Jason.

“Good morning,” Bruce greeted back.

“Morning old man!” Jason shot over a grin, flipping some hashbrowns out of the pan with one hand.

Bruce rolled his eyes fondly, but walked over to get himself a cup of coffee. Hal was in the middle of pouring pancake batter, so Bruce didn’t interrupt, just leaned back against the counter and watched.

“Hey Bruce, me and Jay were thinking about going out and looking at motorcycles this afternoon?”

“Is that so?” Bruce asked, glancing over at his son.

“Yeah, my bike’s struggling a bit recently, and I decided it was finally time for an upgrade, especially with all these long drives I’ve been doing,” Jason explained.

“Makes sense. You have enough to pay for it?”

“Yeah, we’ve been doing really good recently, and making legit money too, so don’t give me that look.”

Bruce scowled. “What look.”

“The signature, Son, should I be disappointed , look.”

Hal chuckled, glancing over at Bruce. “You do have a look.”

“Oh whatever, you’re not supposed to agree with my brat kid.”

Hal just laughed harder at that, setting down his spatula and walking over. Bruce set down his coffee cup, opening his arms for Hal to step up close and lean in, kissing him gently. Bruce let his hands slide down Hal’s sides to rest on his ass. Surprisingly, Jason didn’t say anything. 

Hal stepped back after a minute, just smiling fondly at Bruce.

“Besides, I thought it’d be good to spend a little time with just Jason,” Hal said softly, glancing over his shoulder at the man.

“Mhm, it is.”

“Hal if these pancakes burn you never get to cook with me again.”

“Yessir!” 

Hal hurried away to flip the pancakes again and Bruce just laughed to himself. After a nice quiet breakfast, Hal and Jason headed out, and Bruce headed down to the cave to do equipment checks. The day passed rather unremarkably, Alfred came down to bring him lunch around 2pm, and sat down next to him to silently go over the contents of Bruce’s utility belt while he silently patched a hole in his armor.

They had been sitting in silence for a long time when Bruce could sense Alfred was getting ready to speak.

“Yes?” he asked, preemptively. 

“You seem happy.”

Bruce stopped working, looking at the older man. 

“What?”

“With Hal. You seem happy and comfortable. More than you have with any other partner, even Ms. Kyle.”

Bruce gently sighed, setting down his tools and turning to face Alfred fully. 

“I trust him,” he said truthfully. 

That was the big difference between Hal and any other lover Bruce had kept for a long period of time. Not only did Hal know about Bruce being a vampire, and him being Batman, he knew it and accepted it without many complaints. He fussed over Bruce, sure, but he didn’t try to control him and make him stop being Batman. And despite everything that had happened when they first met, that background made him trust Hal more, almost. He could relax around Hal, be himself, and was comfortable in the knowledge that Hal was interested in him for more than just his money and sex.

“I’m glad,” Alfred said softly, reaching over and putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

Bruce smiled at him, and then turned back to his work.

Hal got back late that evening, after dinner. Bruce was in the lounge with Damian, watching a documentary on ancient mesopotamia. He had gotten the alert for the security gate, and had heard Hal coming into the manor, so he wasn’t surprised when he felt arms slip around his shoulders.

“Hi baby,” Hal murmured, kissing his cheek. 

“Welcome back,” Bruce said, smiling slightly.

“Harold,” Damian greeted, glancing over from the armchair where he was cuddling with his cat.

“Hey, bud.”

“How was your day with Jay?”

Hal let go and walked around to sit beside Bruce, slipping an arm around him. “It was good, I think he found one he likes but he didn’t get anything today. He got a call from Roy and took off for Star though,”

“Yeah, that’s pretty typical for them.”

Hal nodded, then looked at the tv. “Oh god you two are such nerds.”

“It’s called being educated, Jordan, you should try it,” Damian shot back, sniffing in contempt.

“Uh huh,” Hal shook his head, smiling. “Hey I’m gonna go take a shower, you doing patrols?”

“Well. . . Jason was supposed to cover for me tonight so I guess I am now.”

“Okay. . .”

Bruce gave him a shrug and an apologetic smile. “I’ll be careful.”

“I know, baby.”

Hal kissed him, and Bruce squeezed his thigh quickly. 

“Blegh,” Damian inputted from across the room.

Hal just laughed as he pulled away and headed towards the door. “Night squirt!”

“I’m not short!”

Bruce smiled to himself and shook his head, turning to watch Hal leave.

After the documentary was finished, he sent Damian off to finish homework, while he went down and got suited up for patrols with Tim and Stephanie. It was a quiet night, but not the type of quiet that Bruce liked. It was the type of quiet that made Gotham feel like she was holding her breath, waiting for something to happen. It was the type of quiet that meant trouble later. But trouble didn’t come that night, and Bruce found himself crawling into bed at 4am, having not gotten into a single fight.

Hal picked up his head as Bruce crawled in next to him, made a sleepy noise and rolled onto his stomach. Bruce chuckled, gently poking his side.

“Noo,” Hal whined, twisting away from him.

“You’re already awake, come over here.”

Hal gave another whine and crawled over, laying partially on top of Bruce. “Cold.”

“Well I’m not gonna be much help there,” Bruce murmured, slipping his arms around Hal and sliding one hand down to rest on his hip.

“Stupid.”

“I’m sorry that I got turned into a vampire?”

“Should be.”

Bruce chuckled to himself again, kissing the side of Hal’s head. Hal let out a big sigh, then tilted his head so his chin was on top of Bruce’s chest and he was looking up at Bruce. 

“Hi there, handsome.”

“Hi.”

“You should get some more sleep.”

“Make me.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Mhm,” Hal said in a sleep voice, with a cocky smirk.

Bruce quickly flipped Hal onto his back, pinning him by the throat. “If that’s what you want, my love.”

“Hey, wake up sleepy head.”

“Fuck offfff.”

“Hal.”

“Hhhhhhngg.”

Bruce chuckled, leaning down and kissing Hal on the cheek. Hal opened one eye and glared at him.

“Aww, what’s the matter?”

“You are, you dick. I barely slept because of you.”

“Oh you enjoyed it.”

Hal grumbled and rolled onto his stomach, pulling the blankets up so Bruce could only see his hair.

“Well, my sulking love, I’m going to make coffee, you might want to get up and start getting ready, we have that theatre and dinner.”

“Fuck, I forgot.”

“Yeah I know, hot stuff.”

Bruce kissed Hal on the head and then turned, walking towards the door. “Better not fall asleep again!”

“Bah!” Was Hal’s eloquent reply.

Bruce chuckled as he headed out the door and downstairs.

They had gotten invited to the unveiling of the recently remodeled Gotham Opera House, which included a banquet and a complete showing of Rigoletto. The opera started at three, with a tour after the showing, and then dinner at six. So they didn’t have to be at the opera house for a while, but Bruce knew it took Hal a while to wake up fully.

He got coffee started, and grabbed a blood bag to suck on. Alfred was nowhere to be seen, but Bruce didn’t think anything of it, just walked around, cleaning up a few dishes that had been left out from last night and this morning. The day passed casually, the boys coming in and out with their various guests or pets or tasks. Hal came down eventually and they sat on the sofa together so Hal could watch tv while Bruce read some case files. Then Alfred walked past with a “Should you two be getting ready” and then day kicked into panic mode.

Bruce was wearing a deep red suit with a charcoal grey button up and no tie. He understood the irony of him wearing that color of suit, and yes that’s why he picked it. Hal had a classic black suit, but with a black button down and a gray vest to add a nice pop of contrast. They got dressed and ready and fully styled and then started heading towards the Opera House, with just enough time to get there perfectly on time.

The Opera itself was okay, Bruce wasn’t big into them, since they typically hurt his ears, but he had come prepared with specialized earplugs to help protect his sensitive ears. The opera house was gorgeously designed, some how perfectly combining classic architecture and modern designs. Hal and Bruce walked through the tour with their shoulders bumping together the whole time, occasionally tossing glances at each other.

Bruce thought the evening was going amazing, Hal seemed a little bored during the opera itself, but otherwise like he was enjoying himself. Dinner was some fancy pasta dish, Bruce didn’t really care, considering he couldn’t actually eat that much of it without getting sick. He quietly slid Hal his plate when Hal was finished with his own.

“Brucie, is that you?”

Bruce froze, hearing a painfully familiar voice, then a familiar scent hit his nose. 

“Andrea.”

He turned and sure enough, the woman coming to a stop right beside him was very familiar. Andrea Sweet, one of the most famous Succubi of Gotham and Hollywood, famous for getting what she wants through seducing people and never getting in trouble for it. Bruce had formerly dated her, but mostly just because the public wanted him too, not because he was actually that interested or because she could actually seduce him, he was only barely affected by her abilities, and even then they had to be very heavily focused directly on him. 

“Imagine my surprise when I found out little Brucie Wayne wasn’t a humie! Made so much more sense why I could never get anything out of you.”

Andrea draped an arm around Bruce’s neck and leaned pretty heavily into him, pressing into him at an awkward angle due to how he was sitting, and she was wearing four inch heels.

“Andrea, how can I help you?”

“Oh! I was just wondering if you would be free this weekend, I have a party to attend and it’d look just awful if I was too show up by myself. And since we’re both in town at the same time… Well…”

Bruce spared a glance over at Hal who looked a mixture of flustered and furious.

“Sorry Andrea, won’t be able to make it.”

“Boo! Party pooper!” She leaned a little more heavily and Bruce could start feeling the affects of her powers.

He grabbed her arm and gently pulled her off. “Andrea, that’s enough, you know how dangerous it is to use your powers like this in public.”

She actually pouted at him, standing up straight. “What happened to you, Brucie, you used to be fun. You’ve changed.”

“Yeah, life happened. I adapted. I wish you the best Andrea, but I’m not gonna do this anymore.”

She made a little snooty noise and spun on her heel, walking away. Bruce shook his head and sighed, turning back to Hal.

“Who was that?” he asked, sounding a little tense.

“Andrea Sweet, a fairly well known celebrity around here. She’s a succubus and one of the few who isn’t afraid to hide it.”

Bruce expected that to derail him. He’d seen Hal’s instincts from the DSMC kick in on many occasions when supernatural creatures were involved, but he didn’t react to that news in the slightest.

“She was awful friendly.”

“Hal, love. . .” Bruce tried, reaching a hand out to touch Hal’s arm. 

Hal raised an eyebrow. “Bruce.”

“We dated, a few times, years and years ago. I’m not interested in her, I never was and I’m not now.”

Hal snorted, looking back at his plate. Bruce frowned.

“Darling, don’t be jealous, she’s truly of no interest to me, her powers barely even affect me.”

“Oh but they still do, right?”

“What? Hal what’s going on?”

“Really Bruce?” Hal snapped, shooting him a glare.

“Yes really! I don’t understand and-”

Hal snorted and stood up. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

He walked away without looking back at Bruce. There was a long moment of silence, and the people on the either side of their table was just staring at Bruce. He gave them a tired smile and stood up, following his boyfriend. 

“Hal. Hal!” he called, jogging to catch up.

“Go away, Bruce.”

Normally Bruce would listen. He tried to be good about giving Hal his space, but this really wasn’t the time for his date to go storming off, considering the event they were at.

“Hal, I’d like to give you the space but can we talk about this?”

“No! I don’t want to!”

“Really Jordan?”

“Really!” 

“What the fuck is this about because if it’s about Andrea, I promise you there’s absolutely nothing ever going to happen there agai-”

“It’s about Andrea! It’s about you! It’s about me! It’s about this whole damned world!”

“What?” Bruce hissed, trying to make heads or tails of what had upset Hal.

“God you’re dense sometimes!”

Hal slammed his palm into the bathroom door to open it and stalked in, and Bruce followed after him, no shame in his body.

“What is this? What about Andrea upset you?”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Harold.”

“ Jesus can’t a man pee in peace!”

Bruce let out a long breath through his nose. “Alright. Fine. I’m going back to the table, return when you’re ready.”

He turned on his heel and walked back out, heading back to the dining hall. He was given a few odd looks, but no one said anything, just stared at him and whispered to each other.

Bruce waited a few minutes. Then a few minutes turned into ten, then twenty, thirty and before he realized it had been an hour and no Hal. He had started conversing with the people across the table to distract himself and didn't realize how fast the time had passed.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said with a polite smile, standing and heading back towards the bathroom. 

Obviously Hal wasn’t inside. He was a grown man, he wasn’t going to hang out inside a public restroom for an hour. But that meant he was somewhere just where exactly that was? Bruce had no idea. He called Hal a few times but each time it went to voicemail. He let out a hissing breath, frustrated. Why was Hal being so childish?

He tried to search the rest of the opera house as casually as possible, and when there was no signs of Hal, and another call went to voicemail, he gave up. Instead he dialed Tim, who picked up on the second ring.

“B-man, what’s up?” Jason’s voice echoed through the phone.

“Where’s Tim?”

“Playing his nerd game with Roy, why?”

“It’s not a nerd game, Jason it’s fucking witchcraft!” Tim’s voice yelled.

“Whatever nerd! ”

“Jason, give Tim his phone please.”

“Okay, okay, geesh old man, hang on.”

There was some faint talking, and then bickering, and Bruce waited while the phone got passed over, pacing back and forth in the hallway.

“Yes, Bruce?”

“I need you to trace Hal for me.”

“Uh. . . Bruce?”

“I know. Okay, I know. But we got into a fight and he stormed off and he won’t answer his phone and he’s nowhere here and he didn’t leave because I have the car keys, so please. . . I just need to know he’s somewhere safe.”

“Okay. Okay give me a minute.”

There was more faint talking, and then the clicking of keys. Bruce listened to Tim type for a long time, then he went silent.

“Tim?”

“Uhm. . .”

“Tim what is it.”

Tim cleared his throat, faintly Bruce could hear Jason say something about getting suited up.

“Bruce, his phone pinged as just outside the opera house.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Like. . . twenty feet from your location.”

Bruce looked up at the side exit right in front of him. He walked over and shouldered it open, looking around outside. There was no Hal.

“Are you sure, Tim?”

“Positive. You must be only a few feet away, Bruce, sure he isn’t on the other side of a wall?”

“Tim I’m outside.”

“Oh well. . . So I guess not but-”

Bruce saw it then, shreds of fabric, and a shattered phone over by the wall. He hurried over picking up the cloth. It was definitely Hal’s, same color and texture, and it smelled like him. The phone blinked to life to show all of Bruce’s missed calls. Then he smelled it. He looked up and around, and then at the wall again. There was blood stained on the wall, not a lot, and already dried, but recent enough that the blood smell was fresh on it. 

“Bruce?”

“Fuck. I’m coming back now. We need to get suited up and look for him, I think he was taken, Tim.”

“Heading down to the cave now.”

They’d been searching for hours, and the longer they looked and found nothing, the more sick Bruce felt. He had lost Hal. All because of some stupid ex and stupid fight. Hell, what even had been his last words to the man? Tim and Jason kept telling him not to catastrophize, but it was too late for that.

They were back at the opera house, Roy and Tim doing yet another spell over the blood splattered on the wall, while Bruce paced, biting at his gloves.

This can’t be happening.

“Hey- Bruce, hey,” Jason said softly, stepping in front of him and interrupting his pace track.

Bruce blinked at him, then scowled. “What?”

“We’re gonna find him, okay? I’m sure it’s just some… stupid ransom or something. Doubt they’d let Hal get hurt too bad.”

“What if it’s not though,” Bruce said softly, sighing and looking back over.

“Then we’ll find him, and kick their asses for taking him.”

Bruce nodded and tried to find comfort in Jason’s words. He knew the criminal underground of Gotham a lot better then Bruce did these days, but still… it was hard to believe. It’d been hours and there’d been no contact, ransom cases never took this long. 

Four more hours and still nothing. 

Six and the sun was high in the sky. 

Ten and his phone was ringing.

He all but lunged across the kitchen for it, snatching it up. 

“Dick? What is it?”

“You’re… gonna wanna come into town. Thirty first and Grant,” Dick said quietly, sounding hesistant.

“Suit or no?”

“Bat, yeah.”

He rushed down to the cave to change, and then rushed out to where Dick had said. He saw Nightwing’s back, hunched over something, and then Magpie’s cape peaked out from behind him. He could feel panic threatening to choke him, and he rushed forwards, all but pushing them aside. The smell hit him first, and he nearly choked on a sob.

Laying slumped against the alley wall, was exactly what he didn’t want to see. Hal was clutching at his stomach, but it didn’t seem to do much good, the slash marks that ran across his abdomen were bleeding rather rapidly. The smell of blood had hit Bruce almost like a wrecking ball, and he staggered a bit. Dick reached out a hand to steady him.

“Hey spooks,” Hal choked out, trying to grin. It turned into a grimace instead.

“Jesus Christ Hal, what happened?” Bruce asked, dropping to his knees.

“We think a wolf grabbed him,” Tim said softly from beside Bruce, sigils floating around him and Hal. 

Hal gave a weak nod. “Got away when they shifted back.”

He coughed, and blood came up.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“We need to get him to a hospital, now,” Bruce snapped. “He may have gotten bit or-”

“Bruce,” Dick said softly, grabbing his shoulder again. 

When Bruce looked up, Dick just shook his head a little.

“Bruc-” Hal started, and broke off coughing again. “‘Mere.”

Bruce shifted closer, grabbing Hal’s thigh and squeezing slightly, his other hand came up to cup Hal’s face.

“Didn’t get bit,” he mumbled, leaning into the hand. “Just cut.”

“Let me get you to the hospital, please. ”

“Look at me, I’m not gonna make it.”

"Yes you are, I'm not going to give up!" Bruce snapped, shifting so he could lift Hal.

"Bruce," Hal said softly, and shook his head, smiling sadly. 

Bruce stared at him, at Hal's pale face, blood soaked shirt, and the sad expression. Hal knew. They both knew. He wouldn't survive with modern medicine. Hal was giving up.

"... I can save you," Bruce said suddenly, the thought popping into his head.

"Bruce- shh, please let me just-" Hal broke off, coughing. 

"Hal. I can save you. I did it with Jason, please, don't- don't make me watch you die too…"

"You wanna…" Hal trailed off, staring him.

"Turn you, yes. You wouldn't be *alive* but you'd still be here with me-"

"Bruce, I-*

“ Please,” Bruce forced out. 

Hal’s grip was getting weaker, his eyes closed. He dragged in one shakey breath, then another, each exhale ending in weak coughing.

“Please I can’t lose you.”

They looked at each other, Hal’s eyes glassy and distant, Bruce’s watery and red. He rubbed his thumb over a spot on Hal’s wrist, squeezing his hand. 

“Please, Hal. ”

Hal took in a shaky breath, squeezed back as much as he could, and then whispered out, " okay .”

That was all Bruce needed. Hal had already lost too much blood, he couldn’t take too much more, but he leaned in, biting down on the exposed part of Hal’s neck, sucking a little bit of blood from him. Then he yanked off his own glove, brought his wrist up to his mouth and punctured easily into the vein with his canines. He brought the quickly bleeding limb up, pressing it to Hal’s mouth.

“Drink. I need you to drink,” he whispered, tilting Hal’s head back.

There was a moment and then Hal choked down the blood streaming into his mouth.

“Just like that, you’re doing good,” he murmured, cradling Hal’s head slightly.

They stayed like this for a minute, just so Bruce could be sure , and then he pulled his wrist away, shifting instead to cradle Hal to his chest.

“You’re going to be okay,” he promised softly.

“I… love-” Hal croaked out, hand weakly grabbing at Bruce’s cape.

“Shh, shh don’t try to speak,” Bruce shushed.

It felt like his heart, however useless it was now, had jumped into his throat, words were hard to force out. Hal’s breathing was ragged, he was far too pale. But he shook his head a little, and clenched Bruce’s shirt, tugging him down.

“I love you,” he forced out, voice barely above a whisper, words ragged.

Bruce took a shaky breath, and just held him tighter. Hal took in a ragged breath, and then didn’t take in another. 

He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see Magpie’s concerned face. 

“B, come on, we need to do the next step,” he said softly. “If he has any chance, we need to go now.”

Bruce nodded and stood, still cradling Hal. 

He was dead. 

Hal Jordan was dead, and the only chance Bruce had of getting him back was to bury him. He tried to stay confident, tried to hold hope that the vampirisim would take, but as they drove to the manor, and he stared at the blood staining his suit, he could feel dread taking over him. He’d gone through this with Jason, had thought it hadn’t worked. He couldn’t do that again. Not with Hal.

He was supposed to protect Hal through everything. He had failed.

Chapter Text

The grave was untouched.

The flowers that Bruce had gently laid on them unmoved, the dirt still carefully pressed over. He’d barely left it, aside from when Alfred forced him to come inside and feed. He was terrified that the grave would remain untouched, that Hal would never come out of it, he would just be dead. But there was nothing he could do about it right now, he’d done all he could.

Jason kept him company for a lot of it, telling him dumb stories about Roy and Lian just to keep him distracted, reassuring him that Hal would be okay, neither had ever seen a failed turning.

Almost a full day passed before anything happened. Damian and Bruce were sitting outside, Damian just keeping him company while drawing. Bruce was enjoying the soft scratching of Damian’s pencil on the paper.

Then they heard a soft crunch, and the dirt started moving. Bruce jumped up, going to rush to it, but Damian grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“Father, you have to wait,” he said patiently, pulling Bruce back.

Bruce stared at the child, but nodded, and stepped back, though he didn’t sit again, just bounced on his feet, watching the slow movement of the dirt. Damian stood eventually, squeezing Bruce's arm. 

"I'll go get food for him."

Bruce heard the kid run off, but didn't say anything, just waited as patiently as he could. He could feel the fear bubbling up in his throat. 

What if Hal hated him for what he did? What if Hal ran away forever, and he'd done all this for him, and still lost him? He wasn't sure he'd be able to take it. He couldn't lose someone he'd loved this deeply again. This is why he stopped letting people into his life. This fear, this risk. 

But Hal was already in his life, and it would destroy him to lose Hal. 

A hand burst through and started scrabbling at the dirt around it. Bruce started worrying at the inside of his lip, his canines piercing the skin. A second hand followed, and Damian came back, panting as he clutched a couple blood bags.

It didn't take long from there for Hal to come crawling out. He looked- well like death, collapsing as soon as he got out of the grave. Bruce couldn't take it anymore, snatching a blood bag from Damian and rushing over. 

"Love- hi, it's me. Hold on," Bruce murmured, kneeling next to him. "You need to feed- okay?" 

He held up the bag to Hal. Getting a first feed from a bag was always more difficult, it didn't have the same scent as a real human, but at least Damian had the common sense to heat it up first.

Hal blinked at him, confused. He whimpered in pain, lifting a hand to his mouth. 

"I know- I know love," Bruce murmured. "You need to feed. Please… Hal, I know you're in there, listen to me and just drink ."

Bruce wasn't sure how long he begged with Hal for, holding up the blood bag, putting it right in front of him, trying to convince him to drink, but it didn't seem to be taking. Bruce was about to the point of crying. Then suddenly it was like a flip switched. Hal snatched the bag from him, bit into it, and started ferociously drinking. Damian quickly passed the next over, and Bruce swapped the bags out as soon as the first got too empty. 

Two and a half blood bags later, and Hal seemed to be full. He slumped over into Bruce, and the man just wrapped him up, holding him close. 

"I know- I know," Bruce whispered, cradling him slightly. 

"I'll go tell Alfred," Damian volunteered again, and took off, running for the house again. 

Bruce slowly scooped Hal up, and headed for the house as well. Alfred met them at the door, quickly helping Bruce carry Hal to the bedroom they'd prepped. Hal seemed to be unconscious again, which was for the best. Bruce was in and out for a week after he'd turned. 

They tucked Hal into a small bed in a dark room, leaving a monitor in there to watch him in case anything happened, and Alfred dragged Bruce out not long after.

"We're back to waiting, Master Bruce," he said gently, offering a reassuring smile. "But the end is approaching."

"I know," Bruce said with a sigh, and let himself be pulled away to get his own dinner. 

Another day passed, with no changes. The kids came and went, checking in on both of them.

Three days after Bruce had first buried Hal, he woke up again. Bruce's alarms started ringing, and he hopped up from the sitting room, sprinting to the room Hal had been sleeping in.

He took a deep breath before pushing the door open. 

"Hal?" He called softly. 

Green eyes blinked back at him in the darkness. Bruce closed the door behind him and walked over. 

"Hal, love, it's me," he said gently, walking over to the bed.

He was used to the blank processing right after transition, but that didn't help his fear any. 

"Please love, it's just me. It's Bruce."

He reached a hand out, and Hal just stared at it for a minute. Then finally he reached out, gently taking Bruce's hand. 

"Bruce?" He whispered out. 

Bruce let out a breath, pulling Hal to him and wrapping him into a hug.

"Oh thank hell," he mumbled, holding Hal close.

"What- what happened?" Hal asked, clutching onto Bruce's shirt. 

"I'll explain everything, I promise I just-" Bruce squeezed his eyes shut and held onto Hal.

Eventually, as promised, he did explain, still cradling Hal close. Hal stayed quiet through the whole explanation, and for some after. Bruce felt like he was going to explode, just waiting for Hal to react.

"I don't know- what to say," he mumbled.

"I know, I'm sorry," Bruce murmured. 

He knew Hal had never wanted to be turned, but what option did he have? Surely Hal could understand that. 

"I was going to die?" Hal asked. 

"Yes… if I hadn't turned you, you would have certainly died."

Hal was quiet again, fingers twisting in Bruce's shirt. 

"Okay," he said softly.

"I'm sorry… I know you never wanted this, I just… didn't know what else to do."

"I know baby," Hal promised, lifting his head finally. 

"And if you- if you need time or if you decide you can't be around me anymore because of what I did-"

"Bruce. Babe," Hal said quickly, grabbing his shirt and tugging. "I'm gonna need some time to process and think, but don't start thinking I'm gonna run away, okay?"

"... Okay," Bruce agreed softly. 

"Now just… shut up and sit here with me, the world is ringing."

"Okay- okay," Bruce said with a soft chuckle, and fell quiet, just cradling Hal close.

---

Hal did end up taking a few days apart to think, process, and recover. Bruce couldn't blame him, it was a traumatizing process, and he'd hidden himself from the world for weeks after he'd first converted. 

But once Hal came to terms with his life, things seemed to become normal. Hal was still recovering, and still slept a lot, and Bruce was happy to lay in bed with him every time he napped, even if he himself was used to never sleeping. 

He was laying with Hal on his chest, the man dozing in and out while Bruce peacefully read. Hal's skin had never regained it's color after being dead, but Bruce thought he was still just as handsome. 

Hal shifted, then slowly lifted his head.

"Hi," he mumbled, sleepily smiling at Bruce before tucking hus face back into Bruce's chest. 

"Hello love," Bruce chuckled, kissing his head. 

Hal hummed happily. He was quiet for a bit, before finally yawning and stretching, rolling to lay next to Bruce. 

"Ya know, I thought I wouldn't be able to sleep as a vampire."

"That will come- you can still sleep it's just… not as necessary."

Hal pulled Bruce's book from his hands, tossing it aside, and tugging on him to get him to shift over. 

"What?" Bruce asked with a little laugh. 

"C'mere."

Bruce obliged, rolling over and wrapping an arm around Hal. Hal grinned and kissed him softly. 

"Ya know," he murmured, pulling back after a while. "If you had asked me, I probably would've said no, but now…"

Hal paused, running his fingers over Bruce's skin. Bruce felt his heart jump into his throat, waiting anxiously for the rest of the sentence. 

"Now thinking about it, I would've never been able to grow old with you, it would've grown old, and you would've stayed this age and we would've lost each other. Now… we can stay together for as long as we want, old age can't separate us, and you get a hot older boyfriend from it."

Bruce laughed, shaking his head and going to kiss Hal. 

"I'm sorry I turned you without asking… I just… couldn't lose you."

"I know," Hal murmured, kissing him again. "I'm not upset with you. I get it. And I'm glad I didn't lose you either."

The weeks passed, and Hal slowly adjusted to his new life, and he seemed content. Months passed, and he and Bruce quietly got married. Years passed and they were happy, content to be with each other, unbothered by what the world may bring them.