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Bruce took a long inhale and gripped the desk in front of him, “How could you not have told me about my son?”

He had flown to Nanda Parbat soon after finding out that Jason had been with Talia before he came back into Bruce’s life. ‘Back into his life’ was an optimistic view of it. He’d tried to shoot Bruce last week during an argument. But he was alive and in Gotham again.

Which brought him to where he was now, standing over Talia’s desk, staring into her bright green eyes. Her gaze jumped between his eyes, searching for something. Her voice was purposefully calming, with just a hint of her accent, “Beloved, how did you find out?”

He grit his teeth, remembering the years of grief, “That isn’t important. I want to know why you kept him from me for so long. Why you never even told me.”

“You’ve never cared to understand me,” Talia tsked at him, “You think I have no affection for my own son? You’d take him from me as soon as you found out.”

Bruce’s mind stuttered over her words. What was she talking about?

“I deserved to know at least. Whatever claim you think you have over doesn’t make him not my son,” He spoke firmly, still trying to parse her words. 

She was becoming more agitated, Bruce could see it in her eyes. Finally she spoke again, eyes turning desperate, “Damian is our son. We were meant to raise him together.”

Bruce let his grip on the desk tighten, hurting his palm on the wooden edge. He didn’t know how to react to what she’d said. Their conversation replayed in his mind, his face must’ve shown some confusion because Talia’s face drained for a moment. 

She spoke again, too confident now, “Jason could have been ours together. You could have helped me heal him and hone his skill.”

Bruce didn’t allow her to cover up her words, “Who is Damian?”

Talia grit her teeth, realizing her mistake couldn’t be covered up. 

He took a shaky breath, “Talia, who’s Damian?”

Silently, she stood from her desk, walking out of the room. Bruce followed after her, impatient to find out what he was now fairly certain of: She was hiding another child from him.

His brain ran through possibilities. Had she not actually miscarried after their divorce? Had she kept that from him? Forced him to mourn their child when she was just hiding him for 7 years?

She stopped at the room next to her quarters and took a quiet breath, steadying herself. Talia, pushed the door open and slipped inside, speaking softly, “Habibi, wake up.”

Bruce followed after her but was stuck one step past the door. He’d expected a child but was shocked to see a toddler. Inside was a bed, holding a young boy, maybe 3 years at the oldest, currently staring him down with huge curious green eyes. 

He rushed forward towards the boy, stopping when he realized it might scare the boy, “Talia, what’s going on?”

He didn’t take his eyes off the boy – Damian, he mentally corrected . He saw his own features reflected back at him: his eyes were sharp and analytical, with little peaks in his eyebrows that Bruce saw in the mirror everyday. Damian’s skin was a few shades lighter than Talia’s, more evidence of Wayne DNA. 

Talia watched his awe and smiled softly, which caused him to recoil, “Tell me what’s going on.”

“He’s ours,” Talia spoke softly, “I used both our DNA and created him.”

Bruce knew his mask was slipping, he sounded exasperated and angry, “Why?”

Talia went silent at that and it angered him further, “Was this all some power play from you and Ra’s? Raising him to use him against me?”

“It’s not like that,” Talia spoke harshly.

“So, you’re telling me your father had no part in this?”

Talia was quiet for a few moments, “I hoped Damian could make you see reason and bring you back to me. I will admit Father has different plans for him.”

Bruce had to turn around, trying to control his anger in front of the young child. His hands were clenched so hard that he felt blood dripping into his palms from his nails digging in. After a few moments, he turned back, “You’re delusional.”

Talia reeled back at his words, “Beloved, please understand.”

“I understand you perfectly, but your reasoning is flawed. You’ve brought a child into this world just to make him a pawn in your game.”

She moved to speak but stopped, closing her mouth suddenly. They stared at each other for what felt like hours, both trying to read the other. 

Bruce was broken out of his focus at a short cry from Damian. Without thinking, he rushed over and picked him up. He was lighter than expected, with soft flowing robes covering his small body. His cheeks were chubby, but he still managed to look serious. Bruce was immediately in love with him. He spoke in soft Arabic to the boy, “Hello, Damian. Are you alright?”

Talia spoke softly, “That is unusual, he shouldn’t be crying.”

Bruce turned on his heels to look at her. He spoke in a harsh tone, not letting his voice reach a yell while Damian was still in his arms, “Children are supposed to cry. Did you really start his training already? He’s a toddler.”

She looked slightly affronted by his chastising, “I started training that young.”

“And look how you turned out,” It was a low blow, he knew it. He knew her weaknesses after all their years together, and it felt unfair to use them against her. But he didn’t feel like being fair right now. 

He thought about his time training with the League. The stories he’d heard from Jason, Cass, and even Talia herself. It would be cruel to leave Damian behind. 

“This is no place to raise a child. You knew I couldn’t let him stay here. That’s why you kept him from me,” Bruce spoke softly, suppressing the guilt he felt at Talia’s expression, “I won’t keep you from seeing him. Relocate to Gotham if you need to. But I’m not leaving here without him.”

Bruce cradled the back of his head, encouraging him to lean into his shoulder. Damian took the hint, small hands reaching for Bruce’s suit.

He met Talia’s eyes, seeing how broken down she looked, “I’ve given you chance after chance to leave this place. But you won’t, so you try to drag me back here over and over again. It is never going to work. I’m leaving before Ra’s gets back. You know where to find me.”

As Bruce walked closer to the door, Talia stopped him, holding out a small stuffed brown bat and a sheathed katana, “Here. These are his favorites.”

Bruce wanted to reject the sword or make some comment about it but he chose not to. Instead, he let Talia lean in and kiss Damian’s forehead. She pet his hair and Bruce tried to ignore the devastation in her eyes. 

She stood straight, steeling herself again but Bruce saw through it. He notched the katana on his utility belt and let Damian hold the bat toy. With his free hand, he touched Talia’s shoulder, “Come visit… please. There is always space for you in Gotham.”

She nodded, but he knew it would end the same as it always did. She couldn’t leave the League. And he couldn’t leave Gotham. Despite how much they tried, there was no happy ending for the two of them.

He gave her a final nod and tried to ignore how Damian started the whimper as he watched them get further from Talia. 

“It’ll be ok, Damian,” Bruce tried to hush him as he snuck down the halls of the compound. As he rounded the corners, Bruce squished Damian closer to his body. 

He moved quickly through the familiar route, avoiding the shadows and assassins lying in wait. He assumed that the lack of resistance was thanks to Talia. Despite his anger, he was grateful for the care that she still showed him and Damian. 

Soon, he was outside, running towards the Batplane he parked in the courtyard. He hadn’t expected to be making a stealthy exit, but he cursed himself for making such a scene when he showed up to tell Talia off. Leaving his plane in the center of the compound was bad form.

He buckled Damian into the co-pilot seat, making sure none of the controls were in reach of his grabby toddler hands. With practiced ease, he took off into the open air and started the course back to Gotham.

It wasn’t until he was over the ocean that he thought to call back home, where Alfred or Tim were certainly tracking his return. 

“Batman to Batcave, does anyone copy?” He spoke into the mic.

A young voice replied, “This is Robin. I copy.”

Damian started to move his hands around, disturbed by the new voice. Bruce reached a hand out to touch his, hoping to calm him slightly. 

“Could you get Agent A for me? I am bringing back a guest.”

Tim’s voice was hesitant, “Talia?”

“No,” Bruce almost laughed at Tim’s distaste, “It’s a toddler. We need food and a bed.”

“Alright, I’ll pass that along,” His words came out carefully, “Um. Whose toddler is it?”

Bruce sighed, “It’s a very long story.”

He knew Tim would probably be too wrapped up in investigating because he’d been vague with him. So he made sure to message Dick and Jason himself that he was bringing home a child and to come to the Manor when they could. Jason left him on read and Dick replied with an “ok, bruce.”, which Bruce assumed was meant to be seen as passive aggressive. At least, none of the kids had him blocked right now.

His hand was still resting near Damian, who was trying to wrap his fingers around Bruce’s thumb. He spoke softly, “It might be strange at first, but they’ll love you.”

Damian hummed and looked up at him. Bruce spoke again, “You’re a quiet kid, huh? Did your mom teach you English yet?”

“...Little bit,” A tiny voice came from the boy and it had Bruce’s heart soaring. 

“That’s good, habibi,” Bruce switched to arabic, “ What about arabic?”

Damian responded quicker now, “Yeah.”

“Very good, Dami,” He should’ve felt silly using a baby voice while he was still mostly dressed in the batsuit, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. He was used to Robin needing words of comfort or a hug while he was still in the suit. Tim was the only Robin who had never asked for that and sometimes it worried Bruce.

“Everyone will be so excited to meet you.”

Everyone was not excited to meet him.

He had assumed Dick’s curt and Tim’s quiet investigating were signs of approval but that was not what awaited him at home. 

As he stepped off the Batplane holding Damian, Dick was standing at the end of the ramp, already lecturing, “This is pathological, Bruce. A text message that you’re adopting another kid? When I come here, Alfred is equally confused and Tim is freaking out because he thinks you don’t trust him enough to tell him things.”

Bruce shouldered past him, carrying the toddler in one arm and a duffle bag in the other. He turned to Dick and grunted out a reply, “I had to bring him home, I didn’t have a choice.”

He could see Tim walking over in his peripheral vision and nodded at him, encouraging him to come closer. Bruce went to speak again but realized Dick was completely tuning him out, instead staring at Damian, “Holy shit, he’s yours.”

“Don’t swear, he knows enough English to pick up on it. We can talk about this after he’s in bed.”

“I have to agree with Master Bruce,” Alfred chimed in, hustling towards the growing group, “Don’t argue in front of the child.”

Damian was staring between all of them. When Alfred made a move to take him from Bruce’s arms, Damian grabbed hold of what he could, which ended up being Bruce’s cape.

“I’ll put him to bed,” Bruce took the opportunity to leave the situation, but the three men followed silently. He ignored them as they walked 10 feet behind him all the way up to the master bedroom.

He closed his door before any of them could follow. It was unlocked but he hoped they’d give him the space he needed to process this situation.

Bruce set Damian down in his bed, and pulled out a change of clothes that Alfred had managed to find for him. He spoke softly in Arabic to the boy, hoping for some response, “Are you tired?”

Damian shook his head but Bruce could see the tiredness weighing down his eyelids. Bruce cooed, “It’s ok. I’ll leave the lights off in case you want to rest and I’ll be back soon.”

Damian let out a short mumble that sounded enough like a “yes” for Bruce to pull the blanket over him and leave the room.

Dick and Tim were waiting outside the room, both seemed anxious for answers. Alfred was a few feet away, dusting, and acting like he wasn’t listening to every word. 

“Let’s go down the hall,” Bruce spoke softly, not wanting to risk waking Damian, “Alfred, you can join us.”

Alfred chose to come with them as they all stepped into a guest bedroom. The minute the door was closed, Dick was speaking, “What the hell is going on, Bruce?”

Bruce sighed, trying to be as analytical as possible, “Talia stole my DNA and made a baby with it. When I went to talk to her, I found him and felt that he would be better off here than being raised by the League.”

Tim scoffed and spoke under his breath, “No shit.”

“Is Talia going to come after him? We can set up more patrols,” Dick was thinking more practically now that the drama of the situation had been explained. 

“No, Ra’s might be angry but Talia let me take him,” Bruce answered quickly then quietly added, “And I’ve agreed to let her see him anytime she comes to Gotham.”

There was a chorus of groans from the two younger men while Alfred pursed his lips in a way Bruce recognized as distaste. Tim was the first to speak, “What’s his name?”

Bruce realized all the little details he’d neglected to mention. He suddenly wanted to apologize for the whirlwind of confusion he’d put them through, “His name is Damian. I believe he’s around 3. He’s very quiet but he knows Arabic and bits of English. I… I don’t really know much else about him.”

Alfred spoke first, “Perhaps we should assume he follows his mother’s diet. I believe I have some recipes without meat from when she stayed here before.”

Bruce nodded at that, and spoke again, “I’m sorry for how unclear I’ve been. It’s just starting to dawn on me that I have another son.”

He looked between Tim and Dick who both had very different expressions, Tim looked shocked by the apology and Dick looked pleased by it. 

“Shall I call Master Jason now?” Alfred spoke and Bruce quickly shook his head.

“I’ll do it myself. For now, I think everyone should get some sleep. Dick, please, stay here tonight, we can go over everything in the morning.”

He looked like he wanted to argue but just nodded.

Bruce went back into his room to check on Damian before making the call to Jason. As soon as he stepped in the room, he heard gentle snores coming from the small bed. He leaned over Damian and saw his expression was far more relaxed than he had been while awake. He stared at him for a few minutes, taking in his son’s face.

Once he felt steady again, he moved to the ensuite bathroom. He stared at his phone for longer than he’d like to admit. He wasn’t sure what would hurt more, getting cussed out or Jason not picking up at all.

With a final breath, he clicked his contact and listened to it ring. In that moment, he decided that Jason not picking up would be worse.  

Just as he was starting to believe Jason was going to let it go to voicemail, the ringing stopped. After a few seconds of silence, Bruce realized that he was waiting for him to speak. He sighed as quietly as he could, “Jason. I would like you to come to the Manor for an hour or so tomorrow.”

Jason was already speaking as Bruce finished his sentence, “Fat chance-”

“I want to talk to you about the League. Talia had a baby while you were there,” Bruce interrupted him and felt some regret over it as he heard Jason swear at him.

“I’m not doing shit for you. ‘World’s Greatest Detective’ my ass. If you need to figure something out, do it yourself.”

“Please, Jason. I brought him home. Come meet your brother.”

Jason let out a cruel laugh, “He’s not my brother. Everyone in my family is dead.”

With that, Jason hung up, leaving Bruce to flinch at the dial tone.

He leaned over Damian’s bed and thought back on all the little ways he’d fucked up. All the ways he might fuck up this time too. He tried to push those thoughts out of his head. This was his second chance. Well, his fourth or fifth chance really. But he could still learn how to be good. He would learn how to be good. 

Bruce gave Damian’s sleeping form a small kiss on the forehead, causing him to stir a bit. He whispered so low that he could barely hear himself, “I love you, Damian.”