Work Text:
Bruce was having a really, really, really supremely bizarre day. Like, seriously weird.
When he woke up that morning in a bed that was definitely different from the one he had fallen asleep in, a lot of reasons went through his head.
‘Time traveled a few decades into the future’ wasn’t on the list though.
Even though the bed wasn’t his own, he recognized the room and knew that he was still in the manor, so he hadn’t been terribly alarmed… Until he bumped in what looked like a seriously sleep deprived teenager in the hallway.
The teen carried a cup of coffee in one hand and, in the other, what seemed to be an electronic device the size of a sheet of paper, it looked like the handheld computers WE had on the drawing board but that weren’t supposed to exist yet. The pale (clearly sleep deprived) boy in sweatpants and overly large t-shirt stared at him blankly with baby blue eyes for a full ten seconds before he blurted out “Who the heck are you?”
“Me? Who are YOU? And what are you doing in my house?” Bruce replied, outraged, and already in defense position, ready for a fight.
“Your house? Look, I don’t know who you are but I need to know how the hell you got past security.” The teen seemed innerved, as if he wasn’t the actual home invader.
“I’d like to say the same about you.” Bruce counter with a snarl.
“What’s your name?” The stranger insisted.
“What’s yours?” Bruce countered. If this guy didn’t know whose house he had broken into then Bruce certainly wasn’t going to tell him, that’s how people like him got kidnapped.
“Will you just answer the damn question?” The teen snapped.
Before he could reply with a threat, a door at the end of the hallway opened and a younger teenager poked his head out. Just how many intruders were hiding in his house?
“Drake, why all the screaming?” The new boy was much smaller and despite his dark cinnamon skin and bright green eyes, his face was disconcertingly familiar. “And who is that?”
“I don’t know, Damian.” The older teen, Drake apparently, frowned.
“Did Father bring home another stray?” The younger, Damian it seemed, marched up to them and crossed his arms, glaring up at Bruce. “I demand to know what you are doing in our home, interloper.”
“For the last time, this is MY house!” Bruce yelled, throwing his arms up in frustration, if this was some sort of practical joke it was not amusing in the least.
“Liar!” Damian shouted back.
That was more or less when the youngest launched himself at him, he probably just intended to grab him or restrain him but when Bruce dodged and tripped him, the kid went into attack mode. Bruce barely had time to evade before the boy spun around like a ninja and kicked him into the wall. Bruce wouldn’t take that lying down and soon there was full out brawl happening, no matter how much the older teen tried to pull back the small little gremlin currently giving Bruce a run for his money.
Bruce knew how to fight, he’d been learning all matter of martial arts since his parents died, but the kid was a good fighter too. Really good. Ok, too good. Bruce was absolutely and humiliatingly losing the match (and he did NOT lose).
He managed to even the field just a little by literally pulling the rug out from under the kid, causing him to trip and stumble back into the older one. Bruce took the opportunity to make a run for it, he was at a disadvantage after all and needed to fight smartly, but he didn’t make it more than a few feet because as soon as he reached the stairs a small Asian woman appeared out of nowhere and grabbed him.
Bruce tried to fight her off as well but she pinned him down fairly easily, holding him in an armlock with his face pressed uncomfortably to the hardwood floor.
“Let me go!” He demanded, struggling (and failing) to get free. He wanted to kick and scream but it was proving pretty futile.
“Not until you tell us who the hell you are and what you’re doing here.” The older boy, Drake, stood over him commandingly.
“Screw you!” Bruce barked out, furious, and still struggling uselessly. How the hell was a single tiny woman so damn strong?
And then, when it was clear that they were getting nowhere, both Bruce and the older boy yelled, practically in unison- “ALFRED!”
And they both froze.
Drake looked down at him, surprised. “Wait, how do you know Alfred?”
“Me? How do you know my guardian?” Bruce retorted with a confused frown.
“Guardian?” The older boy’s frown deepened even further.
“What is happening? How does he know Pennyworth?” Damian demanded, looking between all over them for answers.
“I think…” Drake began but before he could finish someone else beat him to the punch.
“…Bruce?” The young Asian woman asked hesitantly, she was examining him carefully and finally let go with a puzzled quirk of her brows. She then turned and signed something at the other two.
“What do you mean his face moves like him?” The older boy asked, stunned.
“What is all this commotion, young masters?” Alfred chose that moment to appear at the top of the stairs.
“Alfred!” Once again Bruce spoke at the same time as the older teen, but he ignored it and rushed to the butler.
It was definitely Alfred, it was, but something was off… He looked so different, greyer, so much older.
“And who might you be…?” Alfred began with a raised brow only to hesitate, looking mildly disturbed, before he placed a cautious hand of Bruce’s shoulder. “Master Bruce?”
“Yes?” He asked with a scowl. What the hell was going on? What kind of Twilight Zone did he fall into?
“You… What happened to you?” Alfred ran his hands along Bruce’s shoulders and seemed to want to cup his face, as if to make sure he was real, but held back at the last second.
“What happened to me? What happened to you?! You’re old!” Bruce countered, loud and frustrated. He was starting to think that maybe he was losing his mind.
“No, sir. I am exactly the age I should be.” Alfred calmly explained. “You, however, seemed to have regressed a few decades.”
“What?” Bruce’s scowl deepened and he shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“How old are you, my boy?” The old butler wondered.
“I’m fifteen.” Bruce announced, though he was starting to doubt that himself.
“Oh no.” The woman murmured softly.
“Are you telling me that is supposed to be Father?” Damian pointed, rather rudely, at Bruce, with his mouth slightly agape.
“I mean, if you two stand next to each other I can definitely see the resemblance now.” The older boy grimaced as he looked between the two.
“What exactly happened last night, master Tim?” Alfred asked, talking as if Bruce wasn’t even there.
“I don’t… Oh, fuck.” Drake (or Tim? Which was it?) went from a lost frown to a tired groan. “Constantine.”
“Language.” Alfred admonished.
“Sorry, Alfie.” Time flinched and ran hand through his hair in obvious distress. “We stumbled on Constantine, Bruce sent me home and stayed behind to help him with his case.”
Both Alfred and the smaller kid groaned. Bruce glowered further, he felt like he was the only one out of the loop and he HATED not having all the answers.
“Is someone going to clue me in?” He demanded.
“I’m afraid we’re dealing with some magic here.” Alfred explained apologetically.
“Magic isn’t real.” Bruce rolled his eyes.
“I wish.” Tim grumbled with an equal roll of his eyes.
“What do we do?” Damian enquired.
“Family meeting.” Tim announced.
And that had been how Bruce had ended where he was now- sitting on the emerald green sofa in his father’s study (no, in HIS study according to these strangers) with Alfred next to him and a myriad of people crowded around him. It made him want to scream, too many strangers, it was overwhelming, but he settled with just glaring silently at them all.
Tim (and yes, his name Tim, he checked) was arguing with someone over the phone, pacing a trench into the hardwood still in his sleeping clothes and scowling the same way Bruce did when he was both angry and frustrated; the guy couldn’t be older than eighteen and Bruce sensed something of a kindred spirit in him, it wasn’t just the physical similarity of the pale skin, black hair and blue eyes, it was the way Tim moved, the way he thought and acted.
Damian was pacing back and forth as well but slower, like a hungry caged tiger, he looked upset and hiding it behind a glare and Bruce could relate to that too, he didn’t like how confused he felt either.
The Asian girl, whose name apparently was Cass, was sitting across from him with a friendly smile and looking very non-threatening but Bruce was still weary of her, had already seen how strong she could be.
There were also three newcomers- a redhead in a wheelchair that had been shocked to find out about Bruce but immediately rallied around Tim for information and pulled up a laptop and her own phone, furiously attempting to contact people; a huge muscular guy in leather with a white streak in his hair, was laughing so hard he was wheezing and clutching his gut; and a pretty blonde eating chips straight out of the bag and laughing just as hard as the bigger man, she looked like she was enjoying a show.
“Todd, will you stop it already?!” Damian snapped at the big guy.
“I can’t!” Todd, it seemed, just laughed harder and pointed at Bruce. “It’s a little itty bitty B! Mr. I-am-the-night so tiny and pimply and emo.”
“I do not have…!” Bruce began, outraged.
“He’s just trying to get under your skin.” The redhead explained, glaring daggers at the big guy over her glasses as she waited for the person she was contacting to answer.
“I’m so sorry, Damian.” Mr. Hair Streak turned to the youngest, still laughing his ass off. “I thought the teeny tiny genes came from your mom, I was wrong. Maybe there’s hope for you yet!”
“Oh, go shove it up your…” Damian began with a snarl.
“Master Damian!” Alfred scolded, livid.
“Chill, Dami.” The blonde young woman, around Tim’s age it seemed, grinned and slung an arm around Damian’s shoulder. “At least now you get someone your own size to play with.”
Damian snapped back and began arguing loudly with the laughing girl, all the while the big guy was still teasing and making jokes at Bruce’s expense that he didn’t even understand.
“Alfred, tell me again who these people are?” Bruce turned to the butler with a frown.
“I told you already, master Bruce.” He had but Bruce was having trouble processing it.
“What’s with the ‘master’ thing?” He frowned.
Alfred hadn’t called him that since he’d been granted custody as per the Waynes’ wills. Bruce didn’t like it, Alfred may have been the family butler but he was more like his father now and the formality felt wrong; if this really was the future, why had Alfred gone back to the titles?
“I’m sorry, it has become a habit.” Alfred apologized softly and gently. “Would you rather I go back to simply Bruce?”
“Please.” He nodded and waved in the general direction of the strangers. “Now, tell me again, who they are and why I’m putting up with them.”
“Bruce…” Alfred sighed, like he was tired of repeating himself.
“Humor me.” Bruce insisted.
“These are your family. Your children.” The butler explained, as directly as possible.
Bruce looked around a motley bunch again- Tim was ranting onto his phone and waving his arms like a maniac while the redhead tried to calm him down and speak to someone else at the same time, the Todd guy and the blonde were play-shoving and bullying the angry little gremlin that was threatening bodily harm with a sword (the hell had that come from?!), and Cass was just sitting in the middle of the chaos with a creepily calm smile.
“I made these?” Bruce wrinkled his nose and to his surprise Cass giggled.
“You wish!” The big guy laughed again, having heard the comment. Bruce chose to ignore him.
“I mean, him I can kind of see some similarities.” Bruce pointed at the stressed-out teenager now coldly issuing threats on the phone in a low voice. “But not the rest. No offense.” He meant that last part mostly to Cass.
“Wait, wait. Wait!” The big guy suddenly turned to Tim with a vicious grin. “Hey, Timmy, did you hear that? Daddy thinks you and him are alike.”
“What?” Tim looked stunned, almost offended even.
“Not wrong.” Cass pointed out with her own smile.
“Take that back!” Tim started to argue but then someone on the phone must have said something because it redirected his attention again. “No, not you. Just tell me how long.”
“Excuse me? Father, how dare you?” Damian looked supremely offended, looking from Bruce to Tim and back to Bruce.
“Oh, the irony.” The blonde cackled again.
“Better him than me.” Hair streak snickered.
“Sorry, what was your name again? Todd?” Bruce asked with an annoyed frown.
“It’s Jason.” The big guy replied with a smirk.
“l’m guessing you’re the pancake child.” Bruce shot at him.
“The what?” For the first time, Jason looked mildly confused.
“The first pancake in the batch that you always flip badly so it ends up a mess?” He explained drily.
Jason was stunned by the insult for a second, blinking as he took the info in, and then laughed all over again. “What a nerd!”
“OMG, I need to start calling you that. You’re Pancake Hood now.” The blonde joked, poking the big guy in the chest.
“Sure, Waffler.” Jason laughed and mussed her hair.
“I don’t like him, do I?” Bruce asked Alfred, flatly, with jerk of his head towards pancake child.
“Actually, sir…” Alfred began and then cleared his throat and corrected himself. “Actually, Bruce, I was under the impression that he was your favorite.”
“Yes.” Cass agreed with a very sure nod.
Bruce made a rather disgusted face but before he could ask more questions the door to the study burst open and a tall pale redhead walked in, she was dressed eerily similar to Jason- cargo pants, leather jacker, tight t-shirt and steel-toed boots, and there was something about her that was deeply familiar. Behind her came an unassuming dark-skinned teen around Bruce’s age that looked absolutely lost and gravitated towards Cass immediately for more information.
“Holy shit, I thought you were kidding!” The newly arrived redhead elbowed Jason in the ribs, clearly talking to him even though she was staring at Bruce. “How the hell…?”
“I don’t know but I can see where the baby bat’s attitude comes from now.” Jason stated as he pointed at Damian, the younger one threatened to cut his finger off with his sword.
“Brucie, do you remember anything?” The new redhead crouched down in front of him. “Is this like de-aging or full-on time travel?”
“Time travel!” The wheelchair redhead answered for the other side of the room.
“Do I know you?” Bruce asked the new woman, he had had enough new people for one day.
“It’s Kate.” She offered, tilting her head. “Your cousin?”
“Kate?” Bruce frowned but the longer he looked at her the more he could understand the similarities to his little cousin, one of the twins that was still in grade school. “Kate! You’re supposed to be a little kid… And where’s Beth?”
“Oh, hm… She’s…” Kate hesitated, looking away anxiously.
“Sick. Can’t come.” Jason offered, rather bluntly.
“Yeah, that.” Kate nodded with a sigh.
“Kate, listen to this- we told him we’re his kids and he said the only he could see any similarity with was Tim.” Jason sputtered on the words and broke down laughing again. This time, Kate joined him.
“Why is that so funny?” Bruce frowned, annoyed.
“Because Tim’s adopted, Brucie.” Kate was still laughing.
“Oh.” That made sense, Bruce looked around at all the strangers and it dawned on him why they were all so different. “Oooh… Did I adopt all of you?”
“Not, not all.” The blonde shook her head and raised her hand in the air. “Stephanie. Protégée.”
“Duke. Foster kid.” The dark-skinned teen also raised his hand timidly.
“Barbara.” The wheelchair redhead also raised her hand. “It’s complicated!”
“And I am the blood son.” Damian added, head held high with a proud expression.
“And you never let us forget it.” Jason rolled his eyes at the smallest in the room.
“Then where’s my wife?” Bruce asked, wondering where Damian’s mother was in all this chaos. He was a little curious about her- why wasn’t she here for this crisis?
Kate and Jason traded a look, Cass looked at Duke and they both glanced away, avoiding his eyes, the blonde grinned like a maniac but said nothing, and Damian frowned a little in way that was either conflicted or constipated (he wasn’t sure which). Bruce found it all deeply suspicious and wondered what they were hiding but before he could pry, Tim finally dropped the phone and rejoined them.
“Ok, guys, here’s the deal.” The tired teen announced. “It’s temporary, we just have to wait it out until whatever emotional revelation the magic needs to reverse itself.”
Most the people in the room grumbled at that, some groaned too, but overall, they all seemed to understand and nodded in agreement.
“Shouldn’t Dick be here for this?” Kate asked suddenly, looking around as if she thought she might have missed someone.
“Yeah, where is our big bird?” Jason asked as well.
“Oh, he’s been on assignment with the Titans.” Barbara replied, as if that explained everything. “I already called him, he should be here soon.”
“Who’s this Dick? Another kid of mine?” Bruce wondered. He was starting to question Future-Bruce’s choices, considering how strange (and large) this family seemed.
“Er, no, Bruce. Not quite.” Barbara cringed a little, grimacing. Cass, Tim, Duke and Stephanie echoed the sentiment.
“Oh, I just realized something.” Jason perked, eyes wide. “Can you imagine the freak out if Dick had actually slept at home last night?”
“Oh yeah!” Kate laughed and waved at Bruce. “How awkward would it be to wake up, roll over and see this?”
“No, I meant like, for him.” Jason pointed at Bruce too. “That’s gotta be traumatizing.”
“What are you all talking about? Who is Dick person?” Bruce snapped, growing progressively more and more frustrated.
“Did someone say my name?” A new voice was suddenly at the door of the study.
Bruce looked up at the newcomer and suddenly felt the world shift under him in the weirdest way.
Time seemed to slow.
His stomach flopped.
His heart suddenly began to pound much too hard against his ribs.
He could feel heat traveling feverishly up his neck and face.
His hands started to feel clammy.
He wondered if he was sick, or if this was some sort of fight or flight response for some reason.
He couldn’t understand why he felt so strange because his brain was too busy trying to process what he was seeing- standing in the doorway was the single most handsome man he had ever seen in his entire life.
He was of average height for an adult but lean, muscular and graceful like a jungle cat, his eyes were a pretty robin’s egg blue and his olive skin was flawless, his shiny black hair was like the night’s sky and currently messy and windswept, he wore jeans and a sleek blue sweater under a jacket but Bruce had the feeling he could have made rags look good.
Most of all, the thing that captured Bruce the most was that dimpled thousand-watt smile.
Bruce really, REALLY, hoped this man wasn’t related to him. He didn’t know why but he did.
“Oh, Dick! You’re back!” Tim called out, breaking whatever spell had made time slow down for Bruce.
“Well, yeah, Babs sounded so freaked that I came as fast as I could. What’s the big emergency, guys?” The newcomer, Dick, asked while glancing around the room.
“That.” Jason retorted, stepping aside and tilting his head casually at Bruce.
“Who…?” Dick began with a confused expression before he moved closer and that look turned into a slight frown of concern. “Bruce? Is that you?”
Bruce nodded, impressed that the person had recognized him at all. It was one thing for Alfred and Kate to know, they had been with his whole life and seen him grow, but not this person.
“You must be Dick.” He couldn’t stop staring at the man, couldn’t stop wondering who this person was to him.
Dick reached out for him and for a second Bruce tensed but Dick telegraphed his every move carefully and didn’t try to touch invasively, he merely grazed Bruce’s jaw with the tips of his fingers before retreating. The touch felt like sparks on his skin, wonderful little flickers of warmth.
People often accused Bruce of being too sensitive or unsociable because he didn’t like being touched unless he initiated it and he didn’t really know how to talk to people, somehow they always misunderstood him, they didn’t get that the only people he could stand being touched by were those he truly trusted and even then it was tricky. This person, Dick, seemed to know that well and didn’t try to invade his space at all even though it looked like he was dying to do so.
“What happened to you?” Dick asked, kindly and concerned.
“Time travel. He was working with Constantine and then woke up today thinking he was fifteen again.” Tim explained once again.
It was at that point that Dick turned back to the others, listening to the details with a nod of understanding but Bruce wasn’t focused on what they were saying, he was too busy staring that the man, staring and thinking about that brief touch and about how gentle and not terrible it had been.
And then Jason, Kate and Barbara started saying something about patrols and cowls and replacements that went completely over Bruce’s head and that was when Dick nodded and stepped into the conversation, all of them looking expectant as if he was the leader they looked up to.
“Ok, everyone, here’s what we’re going to do…” Dick began only to be interrupted by Bruce himself.
“Who exactly are you?” He blurted out, unable to hold himself back anymore, intrigued by this man who everyone seemed to defer to.
“Huh?” Dick glanced at him, a little startled.
“He’s your husband, dummy.” Stephanie answered with glee.
“My what?” Bruce winced and glowered; he couldn’t have heard that right.
“Your husband.” Jason rolled his eyes and grabbed Dick’s wrist, raising it and shaking his left hand to show off a simple golden wedding band. “Spouse, life partner, whatever you want to call it.”
“No, that… That can’t be right.” He shook his head firmly in denial, they were messing him, just another dumb joke.
“Why not? Look, here.” Steph, now sitting on the main desk (his desk), grabbed one of the picture frames on it tossed it for Bruce to catch.
The photo showed a smiling Dick and a tall imposing man that certainly looked like a much older weathered version of Bruce in a comfortable embrace. He dropped the picture like it had burned him.
“No, I… I don’t believe you!” Bruce scowled even harder and got up, away from Alfred and Kate and shoving angrily past Jason to get out of the study as fast as possible.
“What’s with him?” He heard Jason ask behind him. “He handled the rest of us just fine.”
“God damn it, you two!” Dick snapped.
“What did we do?” Stephanie sounded cowed.
“Use your heads!” Dick scolded. “When you were that age did you understand that you liked…”
Bruce didn’t hear the rest of the reprimand; he was finally out of earshot and racing up the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him before he found his room (his old room?) and shut himself in.
The room was immaculately clean and tidy, too tidy for what Bruce remembered, something about the air in there made it feel like it hadn’t been used in a long time and in felt more impersonal than it had ever been, not to mention that there were different details all over the place that gave this odd feeling of uncanny valley.
Nonetheless, Bruce threw himself on the bed, punched and shouted into the old pillows and then stared at the wall in frustration.
They were wrong.
Maybe they were messing with him. Maybe it was a trap or a trick after all. Maybe this was some parallel universe and not his own. Maybe he was dreaming.
There was no way he was married to a guy, no matter how pretty said guy was.
They HAD to be wrong. They had to because Bruce wasn’t gay.
At least, he didn’t think he was.
Besides, wasn’t that other kid, Damian, supposed to his biological son? Surely there was a mom somewhere that Bruce had been with, right?
It’s not that Bruce had anything against gay people, it’s just that he didn’t think he was one of them.
Girls were pretty, they were soft in all the right places and smelled nice and had soothing voices. He liked girls, he knew he did, he used to have a huge crush on Michelle Pfeiffer, didn’t he? And what about his old fascination with Eartha Kitt?
And ok, so he could recognize when a guy was good looking too, but that was objective, right? Just because he can recognize that a person is attractive, doesn’t mean he’s attracted to them, right?
So what if he thought Gregory Peck was ruggedly handsome back in his old movies? So what if he had noticed boys in school once or twice, like Johnny with the pretty eyes or Ollie with the nice arms and shoulders? It didn’t mean anything, did it?
And ok, so he had never really dated seriously, but that was because he didn’t connect much with the kids at the academy (it didn’t help that he was more advanced than most of them and had already skipped grades). He had trouble socializing and most people thought he was too blunt or too cold or too off-putting, and while some girls thought that was attractive and a lot of them liked him, they tended to change their minds after they got to know him better.
Bruce didn’t mind not dating as much as his peers, it wasn’t a priority to him, he had other goals he needed to achieve, had too much to learn, too many skills he needed to acquire, too much training to do.
To be fair, Bruce had spent most of his life without ever thinking about this topic, he liked what he liked and didn’t really think too deeply about it or try to label himself. He always just assumed some day he’d marry some nice girl the way everyone expected him to, and the idea wasn’t displeasing, even if it wasn’t a priority.
He hadn’t ever thought too deeply about any of it… Until the year before when those two boys at his school were rumored to have been expelled after they were caught making out behind the gym.
Bruce had found the punishment unfair, the part of him that sensitive to injustice burned to make things right even if he didn’t know the boys, even if he couldn’t sure of what had really happened. Yet, the true issue was that ever since then it was all people at the academy talked about, not just the gossipy students but the school news, the self-entitled activists, the parents, even the teachers.
Suddenly Bruce saw people speculating about who among them was ‘like that’, suddenly he saw the words queer and gay tossed around like insults, suddenly he saw all sorts of homophobic slurs springing out to attack people’s character.
Suddenly, he was getting upset for all those dumb attitudes. For the first time in his life, gossip was bothering him. For the first time, he was thinking about labels.
Not in the sense that he feared being labelled, but in the sense that he didn’t know what those labels meant to him, had never thought about them before, had never considered that some people could see the topic differently from him.
At first, he was only thinking about how those labels affected him, he was a teenage boy after all, it took him a while to see beyond himself and start thinking in a bigger scale and as a result he had started to consider that maybe his view on the subject wasn’t the same as everyone else.
And of course, as a teenage boy he had certain urges and desires and those made everything more confusing.
Sometimes at night, alone in his bed, he’d start out fantasizing about a beautiful girl and halfway through he’d be thinking exclusively of an attractive man, it confused him so he solved the issue by fantasizing about the two together instead of imagining himself with one or the other, it was easier, removed him from the equation and kept the fantasies straight, made it so that he didn’t have to question his own sexuality.
He convinced himself that there was nothing queer about him, nothing to think about, nothing to complicate his life. He liked girls so there couldn’t be.
But now these strangers that claimed to be his future family were telling him that he was destined to end up married to a man. That wasn’t even legal, not where he came from, how was it possible?
No, they were either lying or they were mistaking him for someone else.
Someone knocked at the door, interrupting his confusing thoughts and inner turmoil. Bruce didn’t want to see anyone but then the voice of the woman that claimed to be Kate floated through the door.
“Bruce? Can I come in, please?”
“Go away.” He ordered, rude and uncaring.
“Look, I know you’re confused, let me try to help.” She wasn’t so much asking as she was demanding.
Bruce debated what to do, he could just shove her away but he couldn’t keep them all out forever, sooner or later he had to leave the room, sooner or later he needed to find a way back to his own… Time? Place?
And honestly, nobody said he had to talk, he could just hear what this Kate had to say and let that be it.
“Fine.”
Kate came in and politely shut the door behind her. “Hey.”
Bruce didn’t answer, he crossed his arms and sat very straight as Kate shrugged off her jacket and settled next to him on the bed. He hadn’t realized she had tattoos so he focused on those instead of looking at her face.
There was a long awkward silence before Kate finally spoke up. “So this is really weird, huh?”
“…” His reply was a tense silence and a deeper scowl.
“Want to talk about it?” She leaned back, looking around the room instead of staring.
“You heard Tim, it’s temporary.” Bruce knew that wasn’t what she meant but he’d be damned if he admitted it.
“I meant about the thing upsetting you.” Kate smiled, knowing full well he was being facetious.
“I’m not… upset.”
“Sure, and I’m a fairy princess.” She mocked with high pitched voice. “Come on, let cousin Kate help you out.”
“You wouldn’t understand.” Bruce grumbled.
“Try me.” She challenged.
“…” Again, he refused to answer her.
“Bruce, I can help.”
“How can you possibly help?” She snapped, annoyed.
“Well, I am an out and proud lesbian, so there’s that.” Kate shrugged.
“What?” Bruce startled and finally looked her face, searching for signs of trickery. “Since when?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it was when dad let me play with toy guns, or maybe I got turned when I saw that one cheerleader movie as a teenager.” Kate’s sarcasm was tinged with amusement. “Seriously, Bruce, it’s not something you become, it’s just something you are, even if it takes a while to figure out.”
“How did you figure out?” He was invested now, wanted more information.
“Little things over time.” Kate seemed to consider those memories for a moment. “Though, the big one was probably when Joey Cohen tried to kiss me in the photo booth at my Bat Mitzvah and I realized I would rather have his sister instead.”
Bruce cracked a smile for the first time. “Shelly?”
“Obviously.” Kate grinned conspiratorially. “But even before that, I kinda knew, I just had trouble wrapping my mind around it.”
“How did you manage?”
“Well, Beth knew even before I did, I never had to say it out loud with her, she was always supportive and willing to talk girls with me.” Kate mused nostalgically but her expression quickly turned gloomy. “But Beth and I… What I mean is, Beth supported me but she wasn’t like me and things happened and… Anyway, I needed someone who understood and could give me advice. There was someone else in my life that helped with that.”
“Who?”
“You.” Kate smiled.
“Me?” Bruce frowned.
“Brucie, you grew up to be a great detective, you figured me out before even Beth did and when I was finally ready to talk about it you were there.”
Bruce considered that for a moment, it seemed like something he would do but he wasn’t sure how he would do it. “What did I say?”
“You told me that it’s alright to be who I am, no matter what the world says, you showed me that liking girls was fine, that I didn’t have to change myself to get accepted. You told me that I wasn’t alone and reassured me that I was valid and that there were millions of people like me out there, a whole community to lean on. You promised I’d find love, that there was no wrong way to love.”
Kate let that sink in, pressing a cautious hand to Bruce’s back and when he didn’t answer and just dwelled on the new information, she kept talking.
“You also told me that if I wasn’t ready to tell people, if I decided I didn’t want the world to know, that that was fine too, that protecting myself and feeling safe and happy was more important than being brave.” Kate explained with a seriousness of a frontline soldier. “But you told me that even if people in my life rejected me for being who I was, I’d still always have you and you’d still always love me.”
“I said all that?” Bruce scrunched his face suspiciously; he’d like to believe that he could think that way but he doubted he could be that eloquent with feelings.
“Maybe not in those exact words and maybe not all at once but you got the message across eventually.” Kate shrugged with a little smile.
“You did come out though. You’re too proud to hide.” Bruce could tell just looking at her that she was a proud person, and he knew the little version of her, the headstrong one that never held anything back.
“Yeah,” Kate nodded. “but I probably would have taken much longer if I hadn’t had your support.”
“How did uncle Jacob and aunt Gabby take it? When you told them?” He was curious about that, he knew his uncle could be a bit conservative, not at all like his mother had been.
“Oof… Nowhere near as well as you did.” Kate laughed softly, hiding a little melancholy. “I mean my dad, my mom was out of the picture by then, but he came to terms with it eventually, he didn’t want to lose anyone else.”
Bruce considered that, wondered if his parents would have accepted something like that just as easily, wondered if Alfred would take something like that well. But why did he need to think about that? I shouldn’t apply to him, should it?
“I’m glad it worked out for you but it doesn’t really help me right now.” Bruce tried for thankful but it came out dismissive.
“Bruce, I’m trying to say that all the support you gave me you’ll get too. All that applies to you as well.” Kate assured him. “Just ask your kids, you gave them the same talk.”
“The ones downstairs? Wait, do you mean some of them are…?” Bruce’s eyes went a little wide as he wondered about the people he had just met.
“Yeah.” She nodded.
“Which ones?” He prodded, curious about their experiences and always eager to know everything.
“That’s for them to tell.” Kate frowned a little and waved the matter away. “The point is, by the time you had to give that talk for the third time, you had the script down to a science.”
“I get what you’re saying, but being supportive isn’t the same as being… like you.” Bruce avoided looking at her again, his hands clenched on the old bedspread.
“True, but I wouldn’t be telling you any of this if you didn’t need to hear it.”
“But I like girls!” He flung his hand into the air, frustrated.
“So does your husband, you nerd.” Kate mock-punched his shoulder.
“What? But…” His scowl was back, filled with confusion this time.
“Brucie, are you stuck because you think you can’t like one gender if you like the other?” Kate’s tone was teasing and she was grinning. “You do know bisexuals and pansexuals exist, right?”
“I… Yes, I but I guess I never thought about that option.” Of course he knew those people existed, he’d just been too wrapped trying to stay in denial about himself that he hadn’t considered them.
“You were so stuck trying to work out your attraction to the same gender that you forgot that you don’t necessarily need to have a preference, huh?” Kate nailed his thoughts exactly.
“Oh.” Just like that everything seemed to fall into place in his head, his feelings were still a mess and he still wasn’t sure of anything but things were making more sense now.
“Yeah.” Kate understood his lightbulb moment and nodded sympathetically.
“Ok.” Bruce decided he could work with this. “Ok, so how did I figure all this out originally?”
“I don’t know, you never told me, but by the time you gave that talk you had it mostly figured out.”
“Mostly?”
“Yeah, well, the public didn’t know, all your public relationships were with women and the media just made assumptions.” Kate rolled her eyes as if the topic was a sore spot. “It was actually a pretty big scandal when you and Dick got found out, though it probably wasn’t all because of the same-sex thing.”
“What do you mean?” That made Bruce suspicious, what could be a bigger scandal?
“Er… I don’t think I should say. I’m giving you way too much information about your future already, I probably already screwed up your timeline.” Kate winced apologetically. “The point is, you will love Dick and he’s an incredible person. He has to be to put up with you.”
“Ahah.” Bruce grabbed a pillow and smacked her with it.
Kate laughed, swathing away the pillow. “I mean it. You’re a complicated guy and you grow up to be an even more complicated sourpuss.”
“What happened about not telling me about the future?” His tone dripped sarcasm.
“You’re right, I should shut up.” Kate surrendered with a chuckle. “Anyway, you might be stuck here a while so… Talk to your family, Bruce. I know you’re used to doing everything on your own but you don’t have to, they want to help, they always have.”
“Hn.” Bruce grunted his affirmative.
Kate gave him a pat on the head, he hissed and shook her off. She wasn’t bothered, just smiled as she left him to his thoughts.
Not long after, someone knocked again and Bruce opened the door himself this time, only to find Damian standing there with a food tray.
“Pennyworth requested I bring you this.” Damian pouted a little grumpily. “None of us can eat in our rooms but apparently it does not apply to everyone.”
Bruce gave him a bemused expression but let him in, watching as the tray was deposited on his desk. The veggie omelet was made just the way Bruce liked it and even though he was never particularly fond of Alfred’s cucumber sandwiches, they were still comforting, as was the steaming fragrant tea.
“Is that all?” Bruce wondered if the kid had anything else to say.
“…I hope my, our, presence has not bothered you too greatly.” Damian had his jaw set in a stubborn way, his eyes impassive, a poker face if there ever was one. Bruce knew that expression well because he wore it himself when he felt insecure and refused to show it.
“No.” Bruce shook his head, kept his tone neutral.
He wasn’t upset that his supposed kids existed, it was a little unbelievable and he was having trouble wrapping his mind around it but he didn’t hate it, he didn’t hate them. If not for the shock he would be fascinated.
“Because you seemed greatly upset.” Damian insisted.
“I’m fine.” He assured, drily.
“Is it Richard? Do you wish for him to leave?” Damian seemed to be digging for answers, trying to find a way to solve a problem that didn’t need solving.
“No. It’s fine.” Bruce insisted more forcefully.
“…” Damian was clearly fighting the urge to keep arguing but he didn’t say anything, just stared awkwardly.
“Is that a real sword?” Bruce nodded at the weapon slung over Damian’s shoulder, trying to change the subject.
“Of course.” The boy nodded.
“Can I see it?”
Damian unsheathed sword and presented it politely, like an offering.
Bruce accepted and raised the sword, examining the reflective blade in the light with curious eyes. It was heavier than he imagined, he had held swords before but mostly European styles from his father’s collection and fencing swords, never a katana quite like this one.
“Incredible.” He commented, cutting through the air with a swish before he ran his fingers along the blunt edge of the blade.
“Would you like to see my throwing knives too?” Damian seemed a little more satisfied now, prouder and excited like a real child.
“Yes.” Bruce agreed immediately, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Damian reached under hoodie and pulled out a handful of small flat knives, holding them out. They were made of some dark shiny metal and Bruce accepted them and tested their weight in his hands, bringing them close to his face in fascination.
“You can throw them if you want.” Damian offered.
Bruce looked around for a target and settled for the furthest wall, the one paneled in dark wood with a large poster of the periodic table that he had never bothered to remove. He lifted one knife by the tiny handle and threw it, only for it to smash against the wall and bounce back, clattering on the floor.
“No, like this.” Damian placed a blade in Bruce’s hand by the sharp edge, coaching him on how to hold, how his hand needed to move before releasing the knife, and how hard to throw it.
This time the blade ended perfectly embedded into the wood paneling of the wall.
“Neat.” Bruce grinned at his own handiwork and glanced back at the boy. “Just how many more weapons do you have on you?
“I have these.” Damian didn’t really answer but he pulled something out of his pocket- a bunch of small metal R shapes in primary colors.
“What are those?” He picked one, upon closer inspection he noticed that they had very sharp edges.
“You can call them throwing stars.” Damian replied mysteriously and smugly.
“Why the R?” Bruce wondered.
“You will know someday.” Damian smirked and pointed at the poster on the other side of the room. “There. Potassium.” He threw an R and it landed dead center on the little square for potassium on the periodic table.
Bruce’s eyes went a little wide, not quite surprised but very impressed.
Damian grabbed another throwing star and aimed. “Iron.” Once again, it was a bullseye- the sharp little R ended precisely on the square for iron.
“Cool.” Bruce complimented, genuinely excited. “Can you teach me that?”
Damian nodded and they kept messing around for a while until the wood was hopelessly scoured and Bruce’s stomach rumbled loudly and he sheepishly remember the food. It had gone cold but he ate it anyway as Damian lectured on how to improve his aim.
The rest of the day was similarly lighthearted.
At some point he decided to head to the library, maybe he could find some books about magic or time travel that he could study in order to figure this conundrum out, it was better than sitting by, bored and doing nothing.
However, when he entered the library he found someone already there- Jason was sprawled on an ottoman with a book that was clearly about time and time travel theories, he was so deeply immersed in it that he didn’t even notice Bruce was there.
Bruce cleared his throat and Jason looked up but rather than making anymore scathing comments, he just scooted over and sat more properly, giving Bruce space to join him. Bruce asked if there were any other books he could research and Jason offered him a pile he had already compiled.
They ended up reading in companionable silence, Bruce occasionally asking a question or another about magic (that he still didn’t believe existed) and whatnot, only to learn that apparently this sort of thing wasn’t all that unusual in their life and that the Constantine person he had heard about was ally but also a magical problem-magnet.
After a couple of hours, Bruce was already reconsidering his opinion on Jason. Perhaps the wasn’t that bad of a guy after all.
They got interrupted when Cass and Steph showed up looking for Bruce, he thought it might be something serious but as it turned out Tim had fallen asleep at his laptop and they were trying to rope Bruce into helping them prank the teen.
He didn’t understand but he went along, mostly just filming (with a phone! A phone with a camcorder built into it! Truly, the future was fantastic) as the girls worked, and half an hour later Tim had a face full of makeup and glitter in his hair.
Tim didn’t even notice after he woke, he only realized halfway through dinner because people wouldn’t stop snickering and he noticed lipstick stains on his glass. The teen threw a fit and threatened to freeze Steph’s phone until she apologized (he made no move against Cass), but when he caught his own reflection in a mirror, Tim actually gave an impressed little shrug.
Bruce grudgingly admitted to himself that this family was amusing.
After that everybody started to leave, claiming to have work, which was mysterious because how was it possible that everyone in this billionaire family had to work nights, including someone Damian’s age? However, nobody offered explanations, they said he’d know when the time was right and, truthfully, Bruce already had theories.
Perhaps his plans for the future had worked out, perhaps he had allies now in his mission.
Alfred and Duke were the only ones left behind and the latter roped him into playing a complex video game whose graphics were mind-blowing (again, he marveled at the advances of technology).
They were making an effort to keep him comfortable and distracted, and the frustrating amount of personal questions they kept peppering in told him they were trying to get to know this version of him without judgement, which could be invasive but also… Touching. Bruce appreciated it, they had no idea how long he’d have to stick around and they were trying to make the best of it.
The only one that had been absent all that time was Dick. Bruce understood that the man was probably giving him space but he wanted to see him anyway, so he eventually went back to his room, not the one he recognized but the one he had woken up in, planning to stay awake and wait.
He was rewarded in the wee hours of the night when he heard the door click open. Dick walked in wearing nothing but sleep pants and socks, his hair damp and messy and little bruises peppering his torso and adding to Bruce’s theories about the mysterious night work.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you were here.” Dick startled when he saw Bruce sitting on the bed.
“I wanted to see you.” He stated frankly.
“Ok…” Dick seemed a little cautious as he approached the bed and sat on the edge. “Is everything ok?”
“I wanted to… I realize I was… The way I acted before was inappropriate.” Bruce struggled to find the right words.
“Apology accepted.” Dick smiled, understanding him in a way only Alfred was usually able to.
“Hn.” Bruce gave a tiny grunt and a nod, trying not to look at that too bright smile. “May I ask something?”
“Sure.” Dick was curious.
“Are we really…?” Bruce fumbled again, frustrated with himself.
“Yes.” Again, Dick understood.
“And it’s legal?” Bruce frowned.
He glanced at Dick’s wedding ring, up close he could see that it was blend of gold, silver and other colored metals, reminding him a little of the marbled effect on the sharp edge of Damian’s sword.
Dick snorted a little laugh. “Yeah, it is.”
“When did that happen?” Bruce wondered, even though he couldn’t stop staring at the way the laughter made Dick’s shoulders rise, his back muscles rippling with the movement.
“Wait for it. You’ll see history being made.” Dick grinned, bringing out his dimples and lighting up the room.
“Hm.” Bruce hummed a non-reply, staring at all the exposed skin of the man in front of him and feeling his face heat up ever so slightly. He really couldn’t understand his reactions to this shiny person.
“Are you uncomfortable? I can put on a shirt.” Dick was being genuine and polite but the smile made Bruce feel like he was being teased.
“No, no.” Bruce shook his head, trying not stare so hard. “Just thinking.”
“What’s on your mind?” Dick tilted his head innocently and curious.
“Am I… Kate said I was a difficult person.” Bruce was tangling his words again, nerves and an inability to talk emotions making themselves known again. “That is to say many people don’t get along with me, I can be… What I mean is…”
“Bruce, you’re perfect just the way you are.” Dick placed a comforting hand over Bruce’s on the bed, smiling even more warmly. “I won’t tell you our relationship is perfect or that we never fight because that would be a big lie but I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. I love what we have, I love how complicated you are, I love how clumsy you are with feelings and how passionate you are with your actions. I love you.”
Bruce really needed to figure out how Dick did that, how he seemed to read his mind and soothe his anxieties so easily. He wondered how long his future self had been with Dick? How many years did it take to forge a connection this deep?
“I… I don’t know what I’m supposed to…” Bruce frowned, hated not knowing what to do at any given point.
“Don’t say anything.” Dick shrugged, tone still kind and understanding. “I know the you now is not the you who loves me, it’s ok.”
“Thank you.” Bruce gave a grateful nod before finally looking the man in the eye. “Can I ask a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Can you close your eyes?”
Dick’s smile scrunched with confusion for a second before he nodded and closed his eyes, leaning back on his hands with perfect trust and waiting patiently.
Bruce crawled closer carefully, leaning over Dick without actually touching, he took a deep breath and then pressed his lips to Dick’s hesitantly and carefully, as if the powerful man in front of him was made of delicate crystal.
“Bruce, you shouldn’t…” Dick began almost immediately, leaning away anxiously. “This isn’t… You don’t have to do this. You don’t know me and you’re a kid right now and while I don’t have a leg to stand on with this, we really shouldn’t.”
Bruce frowned a little, filing those words for later examination, and covered Dick’s mouth with his hand to silence him.
“It’s just one kiss. Nothing else.” He assured bluntly, almost clinically. “Please.”
Dick looked at him for moment, as if judging how honest he was, and then let out a small breath and relaxed, letting his eyes slip closed again.
Bruce pulled his hand away slowly and leaned in again with more confidence this time.
The kiss was sloppy, Bruce’s lips were clumsy as they pressed and molded to Dick’s mouth until the older man’s lips parted just a fraction, kissing back gently and almost chastely, until Bruce could taste his minty breath and had memorized the feel of those slightly chapped lips.
The kiss broke quietly, like cotton candy dissolving in his mouth, and Bruce finally put some distance between the two of them. He couldn’t help but bring his hand up to trace his lips with his fingertips as he considered how he felt.
It was… pleasant. Nicer than Bruce expected.
He had thought that kissing a man would be very unique, that it would provide all sorts of answers, that it would be inherently different from a straight kiss, but it wasn’t. It felt natural, it felt right.
But maybe that was because it was Dick, maybe it had nothing to do with gender but rather with the person he was with.
Bruce didn’t know yet why his future self had fallen in love with Dick, he could understand the attraction but he still didn’t know about the love, yet he could see it happening, he could understand it now that he saw a little more of Dick.
“Thank you.” He said at last.
“That make you feel better?” Dick questioned with an arched brow, apparently reading Bruce’s mind again.
“Hn.” He gave a little grunt of agreement.
Dick’s eyes softened and got up from the bed. “Do you want to sleep here? I’ll take one of the other rooms.”
Bruce shook his head and got up himself, he wasn’t going to kick the guy out of his own room. “Stay, I’ll go.”
“Alright.” Dick gave him yet another smile, seemed to have an endless supply of those. “Good night, Bruce.”
“Good night.” Bruce lingered for a moment longer and then shook himself internally and left.
*
The sun had just started peaking over the horizon, tinting the darkness with hues of lilac and orange among the fading twinkle of the stars, when the door to Bruce and Dick’s room cracked open silently and then shut just as gently.
Dick was asleep curled up with Bruce’s pillow in his arms, the sheets pulled up to his naked chest and crumpled around him. He looked young and vulnerable but there was a slight pinch to his brow, a tiny tension on his body.
The bed dipped slowly, the sheets slipped down delicately, a deeper shadow fell over Dick as Bruce leaned over him slowly and began to pepper kisses along Dick’s jaw and cheek.
“Hm… Bruce?” Dick stirred and blinked slowly in the dark room, looking up at his husband and giving him a sleepy smile. “Hi.”
“Do you have any idea why I woke in my childhood room?” Bruce asked in murmur, lips gliding along the column of Dick’s throat. He smelled like peppermint soap and bergamot shampoo and Bruce could have happily drowned in it.
“What do you remember?” Dick whispered, tilting his head back, eyes slipping lazily closed again.
“Patrol. Constantine. Coming home. Going to bed, this bed.” Bruce reported with slow kisses between the words, tracing along Dick’s collarbones and pausing to suck at a little bruise.
“You lost a whole day.” Dick moaned softly under his breath, and then stretched lazily and turned enough to wrap his arms around Bruce’s neck. “Time travel shenanigans.”
“Explain.” The dark knight demanded softly, settling his weight gently onto his husband.
“You wouldn’t happen to remember spending a day in the future when you were fifteen, would you?” Dick ran a hand through Bruce’s bed hair, gently scratching along his scalp as he spoke.
“Hm…” Bruce thought about it for moment, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch like a sated cat. “I thought that had been a dream.”
He did, for years he had convinced himself that it had been a very vivid and chaotic dream, he had tried putting it out of his mind. When Kate needed his support in her teens, he dug up memories of the dream and used them like nothing more than subconscious advice, when Dick first came into his life he convinced himself the name was just a coincidence and nothing to worry about.
But Dick had grown and gotten older, looking more and more like the man of his dreams, making it harder to deny the truth, though his stubbornness tried.
By the time he met Jason he could no longer ignore the facts but decided simply to shelve the ‘dream’, to not let the knowledge in it affect his decisions, even though it did from time to time.
“And you just forgot about it?” Dick chuckled and continued his soft caress.
“Never.” Bruce promised, because no matter how much he lied to himself he could never forget the things he had learned that day.
“Was it a good dream?” Dick cupped Bruce’s cheek in his hand, making him open his eyes and look at him.
“Almost too good to be true.” Bruce turned his head just enough to kiss Dick’s palm.
“I missed you.” Dick whispered and tangled their legs together, pulling Bruce even closer. “Little you was cute but I missed the man who’s loved me through hell and back.”
“I’m here.” Bruce pressed his forehead lightly to Dick’s, the corners of his lips quirking into a smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Dick smiled, a wordless ‘I love you’ sparkling in his sleepy eyes. He tipped his head just enough catch Bruce’s mouth in a lazy kiss, his lips a little chapped but pressing to Bruce’s just right, both of them sinking into the affection, a perfect dance of familiar sensations and warm breaths with their mouth slotted together as if they belonged that way.
It was right. It was home.