Chapter Text
Bruce loves when things are normal, and he has a very strict idea of what normal is. Normal is his coffee being made with three and 1/4th spoons of creamer, the paper being delivered at exactly 7:59 on Sunday, exactly three fountain pens and two pencils sharpened to perfection being on his home office desk beside his keyboard, and all his children being within 3 hours at most of driving distance.
For the past 4 years, that last part has been out of whack. While Jason chose to stay in Gotham for college, and Dick took to New York while Cass opted for trade school in locksmithing in Bludhaven, Tim took to traveling. It’s something Bruce suspects he inherited from his globetrotting parents, wanting to see places far, far away from his home. Tim, only a few months after turning 18, took off for university in Madrid to study astronomy. Of course, Tim would visit when he could and he always face timed right on schedule, but it just felt so off.
Now that he’s coming home with his bachelor’s under his belt, graduated after rocketing through his master’s degree with shocking speed and finishing it a year ahead of time, Bruce can finally start to feel settled once more.
“Keep pacing like that and you’re gonna wear a hole in the floor,” Selina chuckles, looking up from her book as she lounges on the couch comfortably.
“I’ll stop when he’s back here,” Bruce rumbles, though he does stop pacing to sit at the end of the couch his wife is occupying.
“You know he’s not moving back in,” Selina chuckles, “He’s 22, he’s not moving back home.”
“He’ll be within driving distance, which works well enough for me,” Bruce huffs.
Selina shakes her head, smirking. “I don’t know how you’ll handle it when he gets married.”
“He won’t,” Bruce grunts.
“Dick did,” Selina points out, “Met a girl in college, married her, and now he and Kori are bringing Marie over tonight, and they’ve got their second on the way.”
“Dick dated a lot before settling down,” Bruce argues, “Tim had two girlfriends in middle and high school and he never did anything more than kiss them on the cheek and he hasn’t dated since he was 16 years old when he came out to us. He’s been focused on school and the worst thing he's ever done is stay out late because he was playing Wizards and Warriors with his friends.”
“It’s Warlocks and Warriors,” Selina corrects.
Bruce blinks in surprise. “Is it?”
“Bruce, I swear you still see him as the little 13 year old who used to sit in front of your dresser drawer so he could match your socks and fold them into dinosaurs,” Selina sighs.
Bruce shrugs, neither denying nor confirming. “You have to admit, that was a very impressive feat for a 13 year old with dyspraxia.”
“I’m just saying that someday he’s going to bring home a young man with a ring on his finger and you’re not going to be prepared because he’s still a kid to you,” Selina says before returning to Cat On A Hot Tin Roof.
Bruce shakes his head, but her words make him feel uneasy. That future is far off. Tim’s still young, and Dick hadn’t even gotten married until he was 26, and Jason himself hasn’t dated at all, never mind coming forward to Bruce about marrying someone. Yes, all will be well. Bruce has nothing to worry about.
At 5:50, right on the dot, Tim comes home. Bruce has been waiting in the foyer for the past ten minutes, though he tries to not show it as he stands in front of the doors as they creak open. Tim pokes his head through the door with a bright grin, his cheeks flushed softly.
“Well, hello there,” Tim says impishly, sliding inside, “B, you look old!”
Bruce tucks Tim under one arm, scoffing, “You better pocket that attitude of yours’.”
Tim hasn’t gotten taller since his last growth spurt at 17, marking him at 5’5 and Bruce would be hard pressed to say if Tim had ever weighed more than a buck-25. He looks more and more like his mother every year, save for his straight black hair that hangs down to the nape of his neck, with the exception of his fringe. But all Bruce sees is what Selina had accused him of: that tiny, barely chest high 13 year old with big eyes and a clumsy relationship with his tiny limbs Tim often got frustrated about. Damian peers over the banister, which is quite easy for him since he’s nearly taller than Bruce at this point. Tim spots him quickly and beckons him over with a wave.
“Now when did you get so tall,” Tim asks, standing on tiptoe to pinch Damian’s cheek.
“When you stopped growing,” Damian grumbles, though he’s much more mellow than Bruce supposes Tim remembers him being.
Tim laughs, squishing Damian’s face between his hands for a second before Damian bats him away. Selina peers out of the sitting room, and there’s something in her eyes that Bruce can’t decipher, but it’s gone as she welcomes Tim home.
“Hi, Selina,” Tim chirps, fixing his hair.
Selina messes it up again, fingers scraping against a tiny bronze butterfly clip pinned in his hair.
“Hey, Tim,” she replies, “Hm. You smell nice.”
“Oh, thanks,” Tim beams, “It was a gift.”
“Was the clip a gift too,” she asks.
“Ah, yeah, but it’s nothing recent,” Tim answers, “I got it three years ago.”
The look Selina gives Bruce is extremely pointed, but Bruce can’t for the life of him figure out why. The backdoor swings open and Cass strides in through the kitchen, kicking her heavy boots off while crunching on an apple.
“Tim,” she grunts, finishing off the apple (including the core, which Bruce has been trying for years to get her to stop doing) before she squeezes him.
“Cass,” Tim wheezes as she lifts him up off the floor.
She releases him after a minute, then slowly circles him to inspect him. They’re very close, and the only sibling Tim’s as close to Cass is Dick, who should be arriving-
“Oh, you’re back,” Jason comments as he smacks the back of Tim’s head.
Not yet. Probably having some trouble getting his two year old loaded up in the car. Bruce thanks his lucky stars he adopted Dick as an older kid and not a toddler. He’s not sure he’d have survived to adopt his other kids, or meet Damian, for that matter.
“Yes, I’m back. How’s work, Jason,” Tim remarks, smoothing his hair back into place.
Jason shrugs, wandering over to the dining table. Alfred shoos them all into the dining room to have a light tea before dinner is served in a couple hours.
“You must be starving,” Alfred comments, tutting under his breath.
“Yeah, got off the plane, drove over to the apartment, and passed out. Was nearly late getting over here,” Tim admits, “But I made it in time.”
“With no traffic violations, I hope,” Dick jokes as he arrives, cradling Marie in the crook of his arm.
“Dick,” Tim grins, stumbling out of his chair to go hug his brother, then peers over. “Hi, Kori!”
Dick’s wife waddles in, her hand on her large bump.
“Hello, Tim,” Kori replies, “Jake is saying ‘hi’ as well. He just kicked me in the bladder.”
“Jake,” Dick scolds teasingly, pulling out a chair for Kori to plop into.
Finally, all his family is here. Tea is poured and cookies are passed out, and Bruce is quite content with life. From the corner of his eye, Tim fiddles with his hands under the table, chewing on his lip.
“How was Madrid,” Damian asks, sipping his tea.
Tim startles. “Hm? Oh! It’s- it’s wonderful, really. It’s just so beautiful, you’d love it there. And so romantic. Dick, you and Kori should really visit someday.”
Selina tilts her head to the side, eyes narrowing. “Romantic, you say?”
Tim nods, twisting his fingers awkwardly.
“Did you make 2 hundred or 3 hundred friends,” Jason teases, “Or, no, no, lemme guess- you broke your record and you made 5 hundred friends?”
Tim looks down at his hands, grinning. “I did make a lot of friends. I met some…really special people there and I…gosh, this is so hard to say. Especially when I know what you guys are like.”
What does that mean? The tense feeling in Bruce’s stomach wells up again.
Tim takes a deep breath, steeling himself, before he continues. “Actually, I made one, um, particular friend. Uh, he’s- he’s really special, and more than a friend, really. Uh, I met someone while I was in Madrid, a couple years ago, actually. And we really hit it off and, um, well…we kept seeing each other and before we got on our flight, he…he actually, um, proposed to me. And I said yes.”
Bruce swallows his tea roughly, nearly choking. Tim lifts up his left finger to show off a slim silver ring with a tiny sapphire set in it.
“I’m engaged,” Tim announces with flushed cheeks and bright eyes, “I’m getting married!”
Bruce turns to Selina and whispers hoarsely, “You jinxed it.”
While Bruce processes, feeling like he’s having an out-of-body experience, his other kids explode into a commotion.
“Congratulations,” Damian says boredly, which, no, no congratulations, there will be no wedding!
“You’re 22,” Jason points out, which, yes, that’s an excellent point, Jason.
“So,” Tim replies with a shrug.
“Little young, don’t you think,” Jason says, tapping on the table.
He makes such good points!
“Bruce was only a little older when he adopted Dick,” Tim tells him, “I’m not having a kid, I’m just getting married.”
“Nice,” Cass drawls, “Same one?”
“Yes, the same one you met last summer,” Tim confirms.
“You met him,” Dick interrupts, staring at Cass in shock, which Bruce is similarly feeling, “What’s he like?”
Cass just smiles coolly. Bruce can’t believe it. She met Tim’s…boyfriend….and didn’t tell anyone?
“Well, actually, you’ll get to meet him in about…2 hours,” Tim says, “I, uh, invited him to come over for dinner so he could meet everyone else since he’s already met Cass. I drove over and then he took the car back so he could get our cats settled.”
When did Tim get cats? Is he living with his…fiance? Has Tim been living with his fiance for who knows how long?
“No,” Bruce croaks out hoarsely, “You’re- you’re not getting married. That’s just- that’s impossible.”
“I am getting married,” Tim replies calmly, “Look, I even have the ring on my finger to show it.”
Tim waves his hand around, the dining room light catching on the tiny gem. It’s too small, in Bruce’s opinion, hardly appropriate for Tim who should have very expensive everything, and clearly this so-called fiance of Tim’s can’t provide for Bruce’s son at all-
“I can’t wait to meet him,” Selina says, much to Bruce’s betrayal.
“Neither can I,” Alfred tacks on, and to Bruce’s relief, Alfred has a particular look in his eye that practically guarantees that the shotgun that Bruce knows Alfred keeps hidden somewhere in the Manor is sure to make an appearance, “May I inquire about your…paramour’s name and where he’s from?”
“My fiance,” Tim pointedly replies, “Is named Danny Temple and he’s from California.”
“A West Coaster,” Jason groans, “Come on, man.”
“Just because you never get out of Gotham doesn’t mean I have to be the same,” Tim remarks airily, “He’s really smart and he’s really sweet to me, and you guys can’t be mean to him, okay?”
There’s a quiet grumbling before a general terse agreement that sounds off. Bruce isn’t happy at all. Marriage? What about- about- asking for permission and respecting your elders? This Daniel kid never came to talk to Bruce, not even over the phone. Hell, Tim hid that he had someone he was seeing from everyone! How is he not meant to be suspicious?
“Alfred,” Bruce hisses under his breath as he slips into the kitchen under the guise of looking for milk for the tea, “Do you still have some of your old contacts?”
“Indeed, sir,” Alfred mutters, “Shall I ask for a favor to investigate this…’Danny Temple’?”
“If you would,” Bruce whispers, snatching the milk up before lumbering back into the dining room.
The minutes tick by like the tolling of funeral bells until Tim jolts up from the couch, darting forward towards the foyer to open the doors before the doorbell even rings. Tim’s gone for a moment too long, and Bruce suspects that his son is greeting his fiance with a kiss.
As soon as Bruce sees what Tim’s fiance looks like, he immediately dislikes him. He’s got long, absolutely inappropriately scruffy dark brown hair and sharp, dark eyes. There’s a faint scar on his upper lip, something Bruce decides must be from some type of fight. He’s one of those punks fathers worry about persuading their innocent, good children to sneak out in the dead of night and kidnap them to carry out their impure intentions.
Bruce is pleased that this young man isn’t taller than or as tall as him or Jason (though he’s just a bit taller than Dick so Dick can’t claim the same) so Bruce can still look down on him intimidatingly to discern what he wants from Tim. Bruce spots the silver band TIm’s fiance sports on his left ring finger and grumbles.
“Hi, Cassandra,” Tim’s fiance greets, waving lazily at her.
Cass waves back and sticks a cherry pit in his hand. He pockets it, for some reason. Bruce isn’t really sure why but he doesn’t like that either.
Dick swoops in before Bruce can step forward. “Hi, I’m Dick, Tim’s oldest brother. That’s Jason, Damian, and there’s our dad, Bruce and his wife, Selina.”
“Danny. I recognize you from the pictures Tim’s showed me,” Danny says, disentangling his hand from Tim’s to meet Bruce’s eldest’s handshake.
Pictures? Tim showed this….punk his photographs? Tim hated showing people his photographs.
They migrate to the dining room, where Cass moves from Tim’s side so his fiance can sit by him. Bruce really doesn’t like this at all. He feels like he’s got indigestion.
“So. Madrid. University,” Jason starts casually, poking at his glass with a fork, “You met Tim there?”
Tim snorts, “Yeah, you could say that.”
Selina perks up, leaning forward. “Oh? Sounds like a story there.”
“He ran me over,” Danny tells her.
Tim pokes him in the shoulder. “Don’t make it sound like I hit you with my car. I was on roller skates.”
“Why were you on rollerskates,” Jason cackles, “You can’t even walk down the hall without clipping the corners cuz you can’t tell the distance.”
“He’s actually gotten better about that,” Danny interrupts rudely, “It’s been a few months since he hit a corner in the hall.”
“See,” Tim huffs, “I’ve gotten better. Anyway, I was roller skating around the Uni and he walked right in front of me and I crashed right into him.”
“He was going as fast as he could,” Danny informs them, “I didn’t even have time to hear him yell at me before he knocked me off my feet. I hit my head, didn’t get a concussion but there was some blood and Tim was losing his mind over it.”
“I thought I killed someone in the stupidest way possible,” Tim laughs, “It was just so dumb. We ended up taking the cab to the hospital together because I twisted my ankle and he walked away with my number.”
Kori chuckles, hand on her belly while Marie climbs into her lap, as much as she can, that is. “That is much sweeter than how Dick and I met. He was doing flips on his friend’s table at a party and slipped and spilled an entire gallon of soda on me. He wasn’t even drunk. He paid for my dry cleaning though, and I thought he was so handsome, so I forgave him.”
“Wait,” Dick frowns, “You didn’t forgive me because you thought I was charming?”
Kori shakes her head. “No, I didn’t learn about the charming part until much later.”
Tim snickers under his breath.
“So you did meet at university, then,” Bruce rumbles, finally managing to speak, “What do you study?”
Bruce won’t accept any sort of wishy washy field of study like philosophy or communications.
Unfortunately, Danny disappoints him by answering, “I study biomedical engineering. I’m part way through my master’s in it and I’m interning at a Kord Industries program.”
Bruce can see the flicker of interest in Alfred’s eyes. Dammit. Bruce studied business, not medicine like his father, and none of his other children have shown an interest in medicine, or any related fields.
Bruce doesn’t consider Alfred won over just yet, no, they still have to get that background check done. Bruce is sure that there’s trouble in there somewhere. Jason leans back in his seat, his expression flat.
Bruce spends the entire dinner in a fugue state; he barely remembers eating even though he can still taste Alfred’s roast on his tongue. He snaps out of it as he brushes his teeth and turns to look at Selina, who is finishing up putting up her hair for the night.
“I don’t like him,” Bruce grunts, rinsing out his mouth.
“Well, I did,” Selina replies, “He’s smart, he’s handsome, what more could you want for Tim?”
“I noticed you didn’t mention rich,” Bruce mutters.
Selina smirks, brushing a hand over his jaw. “Tim doesn’t need a rich, pretty boy. He is the rich, pretty boy.”
“So you’re saying it’s about the money,” Bruce interjects.
Selina rolls her eyes. “No. I’m saying Tim found himself someone good to be with, and you should be happy that he’s not dating some loser who sells cryptocurrency or whatever kids call it.”
“We don’t know a thing about him,” Bruce argues, “He could be a….a dangerous occult fanatic.”
“Trust Tim,” Selina says, “And don’t be a paranoid nutjob like how I know you can be. Just…be happy and maybe offer to help plan the wedding.”
Oh, there will be no wedding. Not on Bruce’s watch.