Work Text:
Contrary to popular belief, Bruce loved children. Not just his own, but all children. He had a particular soft spot for babies and toddlers, probably because he had little experience with them in general. His own children had been well past that age when they came into his care, and he sometimes felt like he missed out on something important.
He’d hear Oliver, Barry, and Clark talk about sleepless nights and stressful milestone expectations and feel... grief, almost, at never having a chance at those experiences. They would tell him he was lucky to have a chance at a full eight hours of sleep, but Bruce wasn’t sure he’d describe himself as “lucky”. It wasn’t something he’d thought he’d ever want, but the further he got from the possibility the sadder he became. He knew that his boys would likely never bring a child into the world, and doubted his girls would either.
He wondered if that was his fault, in some way. Had he set such a poor example?
Occasionally, Oliver would bring Connor to the Watchtower when both he and Dinah had to come and Bruce would delight in the soft babbles the child made. Connor was a gregarious child, often passed around the table like a basket of rolls at Thanksgiving and happy to be around people. Diana would make faces at him, Barry would stick his tongue out, and the child would make his way to Bruce’s lap last.
Initially, Ollie had been uncomfortable – what in the world did Batman know about holding a baby? But, Bruce was nothing if not observant, watching as the adults around him held the small being with an arm behind his head and a hand supporting his bottom. The first time Bruce held Connor, he was surprised by how... warm he was.
“Is he ill?” Bruce had asked.
“No,” Oliver responded, distracted, “babies are just warm like that. They’re... compact and grow quickly, so they produce a lot of heat. If you see him in a week, he’ll grow another three inches and be holding his head up probably.”
It was a rare moment where Bruce was in casual clothes (as casual as he got – a cashmere sweater and slacks) and just his cowl, and he could feel the warmth of the child as he fell asleep in his arms, face smashed against his shoulder. Bruce swayed side to side like he’d seen Dinah do, hoping he wasn’t messing this up. There was a fear in the back of his mind that he’d drop him, and if that happened he’d probably let Oliver kill him. Hell, he might help.
By the time Jonathan was around, Bruce was more confident, understanding this creature was tougher than he looked. He was around considerably less than Connor had been, given that Lois was unlikely to come to the Watchtower, but given the growing relationship between Dick and Clark, the families mingled outside of work as well.
Watching Dick play with the youngest Kent made Bruce’s heart do... something funny, like it was flip flopping in his chest. The boy was a toddler, one who walked around like he was a tiny drunk sailor who just got off a six month deployment, but would also occasionally take flight. He was clumsy, but had the confidence of knowing someone would be there to soothe his pain if he fell. He was secure.
But, he was also a toddler, a baby if Bruce was honest. And sometimes, babies wanted to just be held by someone. Jon wasn’t as chatty as Connor was, but he was sunshine personified and it shocked everyone when he chose to clamber onto Bruce’s lap in the early evening and stayed there. The boy leaned his head onto Bruce’s collarbone, and closed his eyes. Soon, his breath evened out, asleep.
“You’ve been chosen,” Clark joked, sitting in the chair next to Bruce’s, “He doesn’t do that with just anyone, you know.”
Warmth spread through Bruce, starting from where Jon’s head rested and moving to the tips of his fingers and toes. He’d been chosen, he was special apparently. He’d never thought it possible, his overall demeanor too off-putting for children to want to be around, but Jon saw something else.
“Babies pick up on vibes, you know?” Lois added, “They know something we don’t.”
Bruce ran his hand up and down the boy’s spine gently, his heart stuttering. What would his kids have thought of him at this age? He glanced at Dick, sitting across from him with his legs kicked over the side of his chair. He couldn’t help but consider the differences between the teenager and the toddler, but also the similarities. Both craved closeness, but didn’t know how to ask for it.
Both scared the shit out of Bruce, if he was honest.
--
Over time, Bruce’s family grew but he seemed to only accumulate teenagers. Which, honestly, was mostly fine with him. There was something to be said for not having to worry about a child waking up alone while he was out protecting Gotham, and definitely something to be said for those kids being able to protect themselves from harm.
What he hadn’t expected, though, was for those teenagers to somehow accumulate their own children. Being a... grandfather... wasn’t something he’d prepared for. He didn’t have any experience to draw on, his own grandparents having passed before he could remember. It was a new challenge, one that he had hoped he would get but didn’t plan to.
Until.
Officially, the little girl on his hip was not his grandchild. She was just “Jason’s friend’s daughter”. But, Bruce being Bruce, he couldn’t help but see her as part of his little family, at least as long as she was visiting. Roy was protective, and it was hard to convince him to let anyone near Lian without him doing a full background check first, and maybe some light stalking.
How anyone had convinced him to bring the girl over in the first place was anyone’s guess. The Manor was not the first place he thought of when he thought “child friendly” but, whatever. Bruce had a full house for once, and he wasn’t going to let it go to waste. His kids were here, their friends and partners dragged along for a cookout, and he had acquired a tiny assistant.
Goodness she was cute. Big brown eyes, watching as the boys seemed to try and kill each other in the backyard. She didn’t seem scared of them, unsurprising given her parentage, but she didn’t want to join. Instead, she seemed content to stay on the deck with Bruce, Alfred, and Barbara, arms around his neck and pointy chin propped on Bruce’s shoulder as she observed whatever game was happening behind him.
“Since when are you so good with kids, Bruce?” Barbara asked, watching as he carefully moved to grab a glass of lemonade from the table.
He just shrugged, “I guess since always.”
It came easily, mostly because kids were generally much simpler than adults. Mostly, they wanted to know they were loved and that someone was there to catch them if they fell. It was much easier to build that trust from a young age. Bruce also didn’t like to speak too loud, and was getting stiff with age so he didn’t move as quickly anymore.
He felt Lian start giggling at something, and turned to look.
He saw a... well, it could really only be described as a pile of people. It was hard to tell where one ended and the other began, limbs tangled as they tried to get free from each other. It seemed they had been playing... tag, maybe, and had all converged on the two left standing, resulting in utter chaos.
Maybe Bruce hadn’t missed out on childhood milestones after all. His kids started yelling at each other and accusing each other of cheating.
“Aren’t you lucky to not be down there?” Bruce asked Lian quietly, a smile on his face.
She nodded and tucked her face into his neck, as if hiding away.
How lucky he was, indeed.